[ WP ] A Nigerian prince unexpectedly arrives at your home to bequeath boons for assisting in his flight from persecution

( NSFW/S ) 
 
 The sun is bleeding through the blinds, his head is pounding, he can hear the faint groans of a garbage truck in the distance, hauling away the weekly refuse. The man was hungry as well. It must be morning. His urge was back as well, he had already decided he could n't risk going back to the river again. Today he would content himself with pickings from the refrigerator. 
 
 
 Two Tylenols, a shot of vodka each, a warm can of clamato juice in two quick swallows, and a long piss that turned the toilet water dark orange. At least another hour flew by as he masturbated impatiently, his eyes darting from window to window within his 54 inch computer screen. Sluts being fucked, sluts crying and gagging, sluts being shit on and pissed on and eating shit and crying and begging to stop and for more and being fucked to death. The men were their masters, like Gods in complete and total control of their objects of pleasure. But even the most sinister depths of the Internet would not bring this young man to completion today. It is always so obvious that they're faking it to him now. 
 
 Switching to rum and coke, half and half with 6 big ice cubes. The caffeine helped the headaches sometimes. In the fridge, the yogurt looked bland, the fruit looked dry, the eggs were okay, the jello looked too light, the coffee cake looked too brittle and the bagels should n't even be there. In the back of the bottom shelf, where things are often jostled into temporary oblivion, was a massive side of top sirloin steak. It had a subtle hue of green under the kitchen light, the cellophane wrapping barely containing the semi-congealed drippings, it would be perfect though. Any other day it would be trash, but this was the breakfast he wanted and he was confident he could cook any of the harmful stuff out. He was actually exhilarated, like finding a ten spot in between the couch cushions. And yet, he remembered reaching for it, almost intuitively... 
 
 
 His breakfast was ready on a round dinner plate fuming wisps of fragrant steam. The young man towered over his feast, knife and fork upright in his hands taking in his mornings work of which he was very pleased. The steak was rare because fuck it, that's how a steak should be, charred and bloody. The fried eggs were equally rare, the yolks running over innocently, like a pair of popped eyeballs. Each bite was delicious, and the subtle grinding of the serrated edge against the oozing meat was as good as any song to him. 
 
 
 The young man's imagination began to drift to an encounter with a delectable little slut muffin he had seen days earlier. He had never really noticed the neighbor boy before as he was just a child but my had he grown. The young man had been walking back from work when he saw him struggling to get his bike out of the gutter. The front wheel was trapped between grates and the look of overwhelming frustration on his face was good enough to fuck. He looked 15 or so, slender but lithe. The young man knew he could overpower him easily, which got him rock hard. He continued on to his home without a word. 
 
 The young man was rock hard now, and the feast had seemingly evaporated. He downed the rum and coke and unzipped his pants when suddenly the door bell rings. The man at the door was short, skinny and crudely dressed in a bright colorful robe that engulfed him like a forest garden. He appeared equally aloof as he was out of breath. 
 
 
 `` Good sir! You are the Mr. Woodrow, no? I am Ndjokuani, the crown prince of Nigeria. I have journeyed tirelessly and you will be glad to know I have made it here safe thanks to your gracious contribution. I will be accessing my funds here in America soon to give you your much deserved reward, but it seems I have encountered one small problem which I'm sure a fine man like yourself would easily be able to assist with. Truthfully, you could actually call it an investment as you are guaranteed to become a rich man with me. We have much to discuss sir, and I grow nervous standing here. Nobody knows I am here and I have taken great pains to assure that it is so. Would you care to discuss your increasingly bright future over some coffee?'' 
 
 
 `` Come in.'' 
 
 
 
 
 Edit: grammar
