If You Feel Lucky

The alley was long and dark, cobblestones covered the ground, there was a light at the far end that burnt with a yellow hue.

A man walked in from the dark end, wearing a knee length jacket and Cuban Heel boots.

A young, athletic man stood under the yellow light at the far end of the alley. He wore jeans and a singlet. His arms bulged with muscles on either side of his well developed chest. His guy crew of four sat around him on empty four gallon drums.

The Cuban Heels clip clopped on the grey cobblestones, which looked like steel grey corn on the cob laid out flat under his feet.

The young athletic man smoked a cigarette, the smoke from which clouded up into the yellow light, like mist on a cold night.

Cuban Heels walked straight up to the young man under the yellow light, as he approached, the young man flicked his cigarette at Cuban Heel's feet. Cuban Heels looked down at the burning red ember at his feet. He looked up at the young man under the yellow light.

"You feel lucky, pal?" said Cuban Heels.

"Lucky enough," said the athletic young man.

"You feel lucky enough to get to me, before I get to you?"

“Lucky enough, sure.”

"Protect your manliness, as you know I'm coming for that first."

“Come for it. Give it your best shot.”

"Suck my cock!" said Cuban Heels.

"Nah, you got it all wrong, mate. It's you who'll be sucking my cock," said the athletic young man.

"So, you are feeling lucky."

Cuban Heels stepped forward and grabbed the young man by the face. The young man didn't try to pull away, he stood firmly defiant, chin out, still.

They gazed at each other, defiantly.

Cuban Heels slipped his hand around the back of the young man's neck. He pushed the young man downwards onto his knees. The young man didn't resist.

The athletic young man’s crew got to their feet, but the athletic young man held up his hand telling them to hold back.

“How lucky do you feel now?” said Cuban Heels.

“Still lucky…” murmured the athletic young man.

Cuban heels rubbed the athletic young man’s face up and down his crotch.

The athletic young man’s crew got obviously twitchy, but they didn’t act.

“How lucky…” Cuban Heels rubbed the athletic young man’s face up against the front of his jeans again. “Do… you… feel?”

“Take it out, and I will bite the fucking thing off,” said the athletic young man.

Cuban Heels tossed the athletic young man down onto the cobble stones, where he landed on his arse. “You’ve got some hutzpah, you know, kid,” said Cuban Heels. He held out his hand to help the athletic young man up, which the athletic young man took. Cuban Heels wrenched the athletic young man to his feet with a jerk of his arm. Suddenly they were face to face eyeballing each other. “I like that in a man,” said Cuban Heels.

They eyeballed each other for several, long minutes. Then they kissed passionately.

The athletic young man’s crew whooped and clapped loudly.

They pulled apart. “You’ve got a strange way of greeting people,” said Felix.

“What’s your name?” asked Cuban Heels.

Felix’s crew of athletic young men, now sitting back down on the drums, began to sit up and pay attention, all four of them. Ready for anything?

Felix held up his arm, and pushed out his chest, and moaned. “This is a strange way to say hello.”

Two of Felix’s crew had slipped their hands on to the handles of their guns in their jean’s waistbands.

Jose took Felix in his arms and whispered in his ear. “I’m going to do you well. If your boys weren’t here, I’d have you bent over one of those drums by now.”

“Oh yeah, man, but my guys are here,” said Felix.

“You’d take it like a girl?” said Jose.

“For as long as it takes my guys to blow your brains out,” said Felix. 

“Get rid of your boys and I will do you up against the wall right now,” said Jose. “Long and hard.”

Felix turned to his crew. “Ha ha, you’d like that, hey.” His boys mummed in agreement.

“I’m telling you…” said Jose. He spun Felix around. Felix resisted. Jose pushed him face first up against the alley wall.