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The first time we connected, we agreed to meet in a park where we made our transaction.  Several times after that, he would meet me at my house, an hour late, or two hours late, or he wouldn’t show up at all.  It drove me crazy, but dealers are hard to come by, and I knew that if I pissed him off, I’d probably have a tough time finding another connection.  


 


After we’d met up maybe half a dozen times, I guess he decided that he could trust me, and he started having me meet him at his apartment.  That worked out great, no more having to wait around, hour after hour, for him to show up.  He would answer the door, we’d make the transaction, and I was on my way.


 


One Saturday afternoon, after the usual frustration of trying to connect with my dealer, I finally got him to answer his phone, and he told me to meet him at his apartment.  Fine.  At least I wouldn’t waste an entire afternoon waiting for him to show up at my house.  


 


No matter how many times I met up with my dealer, I was always extremely nervous, so I got in the habit of taking a couple of big hits on my bubbler, before I left the house.  That always made the tension and nervousness roll right off of me.  


 


I  pulled on a pair of 501’s, my boots, and my black leather motorcycle jacket (no shirt), and headed out.  Traffic was good, and parking was easy, so it didn’t take me more than 15 minutes to get to his apartment.


 


Apparently the leather motorcycle jacket look gave him the idea that I was in the mood for some action, because, for the first time, he invited me in.  As soon as I was inside, he offered me his pipe, and, of course, I accepted.  I took a good hit, then handed it back to him.  After we each had taken a few hits, he asked me if I did G.  I said, “Sure,” so he went out into the kitchen to mix it up with some Gatorade.  


 


He handed it to me, and I drank it right down, as usual.  But, man, this was some strong assed stuff !  It made me feel extremely dizzy, and just before I passed out, my eyes closed, and I could feel him unzipping my jacket and tearing open my 501’s.  The last thing I remember, I was sitting on the couch, feeling his mouth on my cock.


 


When I came to, I was all put back together, but I was still feeling kind of dizzy.  I couldn’t help but notice that, now, there were 2 more men in the apartment.  It turned out that one guy was another customer, and the other guy was my dealer’s supplier.  


 


The customer was a hot young guy who looked like he was barely of age, if that.  He and my dealer were passing the pipe back and forth, and my dealer asked him what he liked.  He said that he liked sucking big dicks.  My dealer said, “I’ve got a pretty big dick,” and he proceeded to haul it out.  He wasn’t kidding.  It must have been about 8” long, and quite thick, and cut, with a big helmet head on it.


 


The kid wasted no time dropping to his knees, enthusiastically sucking my dealer’s hard cock.  Soon,  the kid stripped down, and he resumed sucking.  I asked the kid if he wanted to have his cock sucked, too, and he said, “Yeh !”  So, I went right to work on him.  


 


I’m one of those guys who gets Tina-dick, as soon as I start partying.  Not these guys.  I was surprised that, even though they’d both been hitting the pipe, over and over, their cocks stayed rock hard. While I happily sucked the entire length of the kid’s cock in and out of my mouth, my dealer placed his hands on the back of the kid’s head, and repeatedly forced his down into the kid’s throat, and held it there until he had to come up for air.  It was fuckin’ hot to watch, and I wished that it was my throat that was getting fucked.


 


Several times, the 4th guy in the apartment (my dealer’s supplier) mentioned that he needed a ride back to his house.  After a while, the kid had to take off, so I volunteered to drive the supplier back to his house.  Every time I think of that afternoon, I could kick myself for not hanging around.  Maybe I could have had a nice long session partying with my dealer and sucking and riding his big cock.


 


It was about a 30 minute drive to the supplier’s house, and we exchanged small talk, then he suddenly blurted out, “Have you ever thought about becoming a dealer ?”  I admitted that I hadn’t, and he proceeded to give me kind of a soft sell proposition.  “You want some real quality shit, not that stuff he’s dealing you, that’s been cut so many times that you can hardly raise a decent cloud.”  Well, he was certainly right about that.  I told him I’d give it some serious thought, and I’d let him know.


 


When we got to his house, he said, “Come on in.  I’ll show you some real quality shit.”  No way was I going to refuse THAT offer.  I parked the car, and we went inside.  Having never been in a supplier’s house, I didn’t know what to expect, but it looked pretty much like any other average house.  He quickly gave me the ten-cent-tour, casually mentioning the sling that was hanging from a couple of beams in the ceiling of one of the bedrooms.  Of course, my eyes lit up when I saw that.


 


Back in the living room, he told me to have a seat, while he went out to the kitchen to get a couple bottles of water.  When he returned, he also had what I was pretty sure was his “stash” kit.  Smart guy, I thought.  Being a supplier, he must have had a fairly large quantity of Tina, well hidden, somewhere in the house, and he kept a small “stash kit,” just for regular use.


 


“Have you ever done hot rails,”  he asked me ?   


I said that I had done, a couple times.


“Wait’ll you try this shit,” he said.  “This shit will knock you on your ass !  But, in a good way.”  And, he laughed.


 


I was surprised that the only thing in his “stash kit” was one small baggie, about half filled with very finely crushed Tina.  Again, he was being smart, not keeping everything in one place.  From one room, and then another, he retrieved a large mirror, a long glass rod, and a lighter.  After placing the mirror on the coffee table, in front of me, he layed out a couple of fat lines of the Tina, then he proceeded to move a steady blue flame up and down the tip of the glass rod.


 


When he determined that the glass rod was blistering hot, he handed it to me, and said, “There you go.  Do that one,” pointing to one of the lines on the mirror.  I put the glass rod to my nose, and very quickly sucked up the entire line of finely crushed Tina, holding the smoke in my lungs for a second,  before blowing out a huge white cloud.  


 


“You feel that,” he asked ?


He already knew the answer.  He could see my bulging eyes and dilating pupils,as the rush intensified and i gasped for breath, my head and chest feeling hot, and my heart beating a mile a minute.  Again, he laughed.


 


Suddenly, I felt an urgent need to get out of my clothes, which I did.  I could feel my hole twitching, and I couldn’t keep my hands off my cock as I watched him reheating the glass rod.  Then, he handed the rod to me, and told me to continue heating it.  “I’ll be right back,” he said.  When he returned, he was minus all of his clothes, and wearing nothing but a steel cock ring and a pair of black leather chaps, with his big black cock hanging down, very thick and heavy.


 


Showing a big grin, all I could say was, “Whoa !”  


“I thought you might like that,” he said, as he took the glass rod from me, and heated it a little more, before he bent down and snorted the second line.  Immediately, he grabbed the back of my head, and pressed his lips to mine, and shotgunned the cloud into me, completely filling my lungs.  Now, I really was reeling.


 


“Chug down that bottle of water, then follow me,” he said. 


I was more than happy to do as I was told.


He handed me a black jock strap, and said, “Here; try this on.”


I pulled it on, glad to cover my ever shrinking Tina-dick, and turned back and forth to see if he approved.  He smiled and nodded.


“Go ahead and hop in the sling,” he told me, which I was more than happy to do.

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