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Louis the Cajun – Quarter Stories 12

STORY: 1981—Cajuns have a way about them, the way they move as men, the heavy beards, beefy bodies, thick hair all over em. Sexy as natural as picking up a crate and seeing the hot New Orleans sun beating down on their muscle-flexed sweaty arms. Loading up a truck outside the bar at Bourbon and Dumaine. I couldn’t take my eyes off one of them, a guy named Louis, a 6‘ 2’ thick workman, about 34 or so, darkish long brown hair, a bushy beard with full lips, and sparkling blue-green eyes. Unkempt, wearing baggy work jeans and a white tank top, sweat-soaked in boots too hot for the season. I thought he was straight, but that should have been a giveaway, the motorcycle boots. He made me hard looking at him. The other bartenders didn’t pay him much attention. I asked about him and was told “Don‘t mess with that one. He‘s dumb, does drugs, low-life, but has a big dick.” “Oh, he‘ll come around about 6 am looking to see what’s left. You watch.” I did.

At beer bust at Jewel’s the next Sunday I had been there awhile. It was late and I was drunk and in line to the bathroom to take a piss. Louis came out of the dark of the bar and got in line a couple of guys behind me. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact. He pushed the guy next to me outta the way and stood next to me, and looked right at me. He smelled like a sweaty man who‘d been drinking and partying. “Hey, saw you on the street,” He said with an accent I was getting used to. “Yeah, I saw you too,” I replied. He went on. “Well, I took a good look at you.” “Oh yeah?” I said, looking straight back. “Wanna beer?” “Sure,” I said “but I gotta piss like a racehorse. Let me piss first.”

The line was moving slow. We were rubbing arms together talking. “I can’t piss if I’m hard, gotta concentrate.” I thought to myself. We got into the bathroom. It was painted black with a toilet with no door and a clawfoot bathtub that you pissed in, whether there was someone laying there or not. Jewel’s was a kinky place. He pulled his jeans down revealing a hairy hot man’s ass and a big ol’ uncut dick. He looked at me and smiled. We pissed together. Sword fighting. He grabbed mine, which was almost hard, and smiled. He grabbed me by the neck. I was shorter. He left. “Fuck!” I thought.

Louis was toward the front of the bar over by a meat rack in the dark with a couple of guys I had met before. One guy, beefy like Louis, was a Stevedore named Jeff. These were men. They worked the River and the wharves, cargo, day and night. I was hooked. “I saw you work Lafitte’s, you allowed in here?” he laughed and looked me in the eyes. “You‘re a Lafitte guy, could get in some trouble.” Jewel’s was known for its backroom, open 24 hours, sex on the pool table. I pushed back. “I ain’t afraid of trouble.” Hell, I could’ve sucked his cock right there. He put his face so close to mine I could feel his beard and his lips moving. He locked eyes and didn‘t blink. “I wanna show you something.” I laughed and relaxed a bit. “I think I just got sight of it.” He said seriously, “No. More. I want to show you more.” “Like what?” Silence. We drank another beer and I bought some shots of Jaegermeister and then we all had our shirts off and I was feeling rowdy sexy with these beefy and hairy men all around me. His buddy Jeff leaned over with his arm around me, feeling me up, and wanting to stick his tongue down my throat. Louie stepped right in and kissed me instead. I had two bearded guys all in my face. Then a couple more guys joined in, thinkin something was gonna happen. Louis started talking for a bit and Jeff grabbed me and pulled me close and his lips were rubbing my ear and his hard cock was rubbing my thigh. He was getting off on this. Me too.

“Now Louis ain‘t dumb, but he ain‘t exactly smart.” His stevedore buddy Jeff began,“It‘s just his way but he‘s bayou and it's different there.” “Doesn‘t usually take to someone like this.” “Doesn‘t take to anybody, he‘s a loner” “Hell somebody from goddamn Lafitte’s!!“

The shots and beer had me all warmed up and we were rubbing our arms together and punching each other and a bit of wrestling. Then he pushed me on a barstool against the wall and I almost fell off. I was leaning on it and grabbing his ass to hold on. It was his tongue down my throat that kept me sitting upright and his cock was hard and so was mine and we made out a long time. Then he pulled back. He stared at me hard. ”That’s good. I see you.“ And he grabbed his shirt and he and Jeff left the bar laughing, leaving me wet and drunk and horny as fuck. I could taste that man everywhere. The other guys looked at me like ”What the hell you do?” What I did was pull my sweaty shirt back on, wiped my mouth, and walked down Gov. Nicholls to 1132 with a hard-on, wanting that man in my bed.

—Bobby Young


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