I just want to give major kudos to my editor,
RogueLurker. She’s a great lady, and this wouldn’t be
readable w/o her help. If you like this story, then give her a pat on the back
when next you see her.
By Tom
Collins
Dusty saw Deb coming across the
quad, and gave a little wave. Deborah, actually, but she hated that, insisted
that people call her Deb. In her opinion Deborah was a name you’d give someone
that you expected to speak with her teeth clenched, and play the violin, not
someone who laughed like a donkey, and played the electric bass in a garage
band. They had agreed to meet for the concert on the commons at
Deb stopped about 15 feet from where he stood leaning against a tree
with his legs crossed at his ankles, looking him over like a buffet at Sizzler.
His sleeveless t-shirt fit like a second skin, with the words ‘I’m With Stupid’
and an arrow pointing at the fly of his 501s. His auburn locks in their
perpetual disarray. Five minutes after he brushed his hair, it would be an
unruly mess, forever looking like he had just climbed out of bed from a hot
session with some lucky guy. Taken on their own, his finely sculpted features
and golden brown eyes would be considered pretty, but a strong masculine aura
gave him an air of confidence and predatory raw sexuality that saved him from
being labelled a “boy toy”. No one ever
thought to question it.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wished you were straight,
Dusty?” she sighed melodramatically as she approached him.
“I’d guess about as many times as I’ve wished Mel Gibson would suck
my cock. You know, my little brother Trevor looks a lot like me, and I’d bet
he’d really go for some mature poon.” He wore a
wicked grin as he said this.
“Ick, man. He’s barely legal.
Plus, he’s probably a virgin. What, I ask you, would I do with a
virgin?”
“The same thing you’d do with a non-virgin, only more times probably.
Not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have to deal with any bad habits that
he might have picked up from some other chick. You’d be training him from
scratch, babe. Think of it, he’s basically a walking erection who would be
extremely eager to please. “
“Damn. You make a good case. I just might have to seriously think
about it.”
They walked over to where he had parked his VW and climbed in. He
loved his van. While it was the furthest thing from sexy, it had plenty of room
in the back for a good-sized mattress, which he kept a 400-thread count set of
fresh and folded sheets sitting on the middle of, ready for anything.
Once they arrived and found their seats, they had about a half hour
to wait for the show to start. Dusty was
amazed that Deb was able to get tickets at such a late date. The band was starting to build a reputation
in the States and the hall was filled with fans. They already had bedrock
following from when they were on a kids’ show some years back. That was how Deb
had gotten hooked on them. They had been very popular overseas, but had only
recently begun to make waves over here.
“Deb, you never said how you got the tickets and passes.” Dusty
whispered.
Also whispering, she replied, “I went online, and bought them from
their site months ago. It seemed to take forever for them to arrive.”
About a minute before 7 the house lights lowered some, the stage
lights came up, and a voice announced the group. And there it was, that
incredibly sexy voice coming through the sound system. The prime tenor for the
group came out onto the stage, strutting like he owned the place.
“God, he’s so hot! I just wanna
throw him down right there, and have my way with him.” Dusty sighed.
“I don’t think you’d stand a chance. I’m telling ya,
he’s not gay. Look at how he’s focusing on the ladies out here,” Deb argued.
“It’s camo, babe. All an elaborate act. He’s not out of the closet yet.”
“Nah, he’s flirting with that woman Keith just hauled up on stage.
He’s all rubbing his ass on hers and everything. I’m telling ya, Chris is straight. You’d have a better chance with Jed,
the percussionist. I don’t get why you’re into him anyway. He’s not your usual
type.
This was true enough. He usually went for jock types, big muscles,
big cocks, little brains, and little in the way of talent outside the bedroom
or the field. There was just something about this guy though. He was average
height with light colouring, and sharpish features.
His physique would be called willowy if he was a woman. What an athlete would
think of as a swimmer’s build.
“I know, but Chris is just sizzling. Look at him jumping around up
there. The guy is a huge ball of energy. He must be incredible in the sack,
plus that sexy voice? Sheeit, Deb, you know what I’d
give to make that guy whine like a kitten. If you need some proof that he’s
gay, I’ll give it to ya.”
“How?” Deb demanded.
“Patience, Grasshopper. All will become clear in time.” He said with
a smug grin.
Dusty looked around at the other people seated in the auditorium. The
place was big, and steeply tiered. The head of the person sitting in front of
him was at chest level. Figuring anyone onstage would be able to just about see
into the laps of the audience, he prepared himself to gather the proof Deb
wanted.
They were starting a slow song just then, and Dusty gave his full
attention to Chris as he began singing. Chris was scanning the audience, making
eye contact now and again, and Dusty’s goal was to
catch his eye and hold it. His eyes scanned past, lingering only for a second,
but then snapped back, drawn to Dusty like ball bearings to an electric magnet.
Dusty knew what he saw was a guy in the third row staring directly at
him, and lightly stroking his package, while wearing a “come hither
expression”. Dusty’s grin widened when Chris actually
faltered, his voice seemed to catch in his throat for a split second. His eyes
lingered on the movement of the hand, then catching himself he flushed and
looked away. After that the singer’s eyes would skitter back every few seconds,
never staying away for long. At the end of the song, the group exited stage
right to get ready for the next number.
“See?”
“Jesus wept, you and your fucking gaydar. I really hate you right now. You know how
hot I am for him, and you have to go and prove to me that he’s a fag. Thank you
sooooo much.” Deb’s eyes were shooting daggers at Dusty, who just
laughed.
Back stage, Chris felt like he’d slipped through the looking glass.
He couldn’t believe the heavenly creature flirting with him from the third row.
If you could call what the redhead was doing “flirting”. He’d never had anything like this happen, and
wasn’t at all sure how to handle it. His
experience was limited to being picked up in a 7-11 once, and another time
while he was reading in
Kevin
and the others started making obvious innuendoes while he adjusted his clothes
to hide the evidence of his arousal. It was intended as gentle teasing among
friends, but they weren’t helping the situation. At first, he hadn’t even been
sure the attention was aimed at him. He
had to believe it, since the others had concluded that there was something to
rib him about.
Chris
could usually give as good as he got when it came to
joking around, but he seemed to have lost his equilibrium.
“Guys,
time to let up. We can’t go back out onstage with him all flustered like this.”
Dusty and Deb were still whispering together when the band returned
to the stage, arranging themselves for their next number. Chris had changed his outfit a bit. He was
wearing grey slacks, a
Right away, he started trying to catch Chris’ eye again. It wasn’t
difficult to do. His eyes were obviously drawn to him. Every time Chris looked
at him, Dusty was doing something erotic. To keep the singer’s attention he had
undone his belt and the top button of his jeans so that he could adjust himself,
making sure Chris was looking when he did it.
Dusty had kept up his campaign of seduction for most of the concert,
and he was really starting to hope it would be over soon as his balls were
really starting to ache from the constant state of arousal he had kept himself
in while putting on his show for Chris.
As soon as the group said good night, and it was clear they wouldn’t
be coming out for a third encore, he was out of his seat, catching Deb’s hand,
and working his way past the other people in their row.
“You have no idea how glad I am that you got those back-stage passes,
girl. I think I’d have to break someone’s head if they wouldn’t let me back
there right now.” he said as he buckled his pants, and then banged on the
entrance to the rear of the theatre.
When a little goth
girl, holding a clipboard, opened the door Deb flashed the passes at her. The two were ushered in and pointed towards
the dressing room.
Walking down the corridor, they had no trouble finding the guys. The
door was open, and there were several fans already in there with them, getting
autographs, talking with the group members, and having their pictures taken
with them.
Dusty stepped into the room, scanning the place for Chris. He spotted
him coming out of what appeared to be a washroom, towelling his hair dry. With a relieved smile, Dusty made a beeline
for him.
Stopping in front of him, Dusty said, “Hey.”
Chris pulled the towel down onto his shoulders and looked up to see
who was talking to him, and froze. The look of astonishment on the guy’s face
was comical.
“Uh…hey. Umm, you, enjoy the show? You
want an autograph, or, something?” he stammered.
“Yeah, to all of the above. The show was great,
I’d love an autograph, and the or something too.”
He reached up, and smoothed the wet hair off of Chris’ forehead, his
hand sliding to the back of his neck as he leaned in slightly, his violet eyes
locked on Chris’ baby blues. Dusty’s right hand was
just brushing the shirt at his waist when a large, heavy hand landed on Dusty’s shoulder and pulled him around. Dusty found himself
looking at an Adam’s apple. Looking up he recognized the base singer in the
group, Gary.
“Dude, what’s your prob?” Dusty asked, as
he stepped back with care. He didn’t want to trample Chris.
“You’re leaning, man. And I don’t like it.”
“What business is it of yours, big guy? He your
squeeze or something?”
“No. He’s my friend, and your actions are clearly making him
uncomfortable. Therefore, it becomes my concern. Shall we discuss this in
private?”
“What makes you think I wanna go anywhere
with you, man?”
“
“No. It’s not cool, Chris. We’re going to have a talk as soon
as the meet and greet is over. His
behaviour is inexcusable.” It was a bit loud in the room, and
It
took a good hour. Dusty waited out of the way, watching the brouhaha. Finally,
the last roll of film had been exposed, one final autograph book was christened,
and a last minute “Thanks, guys!” said. Looking around to see if everyone had
left,
Reaching for her, he said, “Sorry, miss, but it’s getting kind of
late, and we still have things to do before we can leave. Would you excuse us,
please?”
“But…”
“She’s with me.” Dusty interjected. “She’s my best friend. Anything
you think you need to say to me can be said in front of her, ‘cuz I’d just tell her anyway.”
“That coolwith
you, Chris?”
“None of this is cool, man.” Chris looked very uncomfortable.
“So, this is about protecting his virtue, or something? Like, you wanna know what my intentions are, or what?”
“Your intentions are perfectly clear, son. I have no issue
with your intentions. What I do have an issue with is your actions.
What you were doing during the concert was not a problem, seeing as how the
audience couldn’t tell what was going on, but in here, anyone paying the least
bit of attention to the two of you would have seen what was going on. At this
point in time, Chris is not out to the general public. His reasons are his own,
and I respect them, as should you.”
“Hey, I didn’t know, man. I’m sorry. Honest, how could I know he’s
still in the closet? I mean, just ‘cuz someone don’t
advertise that they’re gay, don’t mean they’re hiding it, right?”
“That’s true, but you need to be more discreet in the future. You
should always assume that someone hasn’t come out unless you know for certain
otherwise.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be more thoughtful in the futu…”
“YAH! Who just grabbed my ass?” Deb
shrieked.
The three of them were standing fairly close together, so when she
jumped forward in surprise, she slammed up against
“I’d say the percussionist is the culprit, Deb. Weren’t
you saying you thought he was cute?”
“No, I said you’d have a better chance with him than Chris. I thought
for sure he was the gay one. “
“Hey! Why would you think I’m gay?” he demanded, clearly affronted.
“Come on, look at how you dress. Straight men do not wear button
down, silk shirts open and untucked, with a tight
t-shirt underneath.” She replied.
“They don’t?”
“I told you, man. Do you believe me now?” Chris asked, snickering at
Jed.
“Shit. No wonder I never get laid.” He muttered.
“You know, you’re real cute when you pout?” Dusty commented.
“Back off, dude, I don’t fly that way.” He said defensively, but
turned his puppy dog eyes on Deb while he said it. She smiled, and he
brightened.
“So, are we through here?” Dusty inquired.
Dusty turned to Chris, who smiled shyly at him. “Wanna
get out of here?”
“I can’t. Not right this minute, anyway. Someone might see, and snap
to what’s up.”
“Why aren’t you out? I mean, it’s not like you’d loose your female
fans, and you’d gain tons of male fans. Seriously, the girls who are infatuated
with you would be disappointed, but they wouldn’t be pissed. Isn’t that right,
Deb?”
“That’s about how I feel. I’m pissed at Dusty, here, not you.” She
responded, punching him lightly in his abdomen, intending to hit his tight
six-pack, but her aim was higher and harder than she had meant.
She wound up hitting him right in the solar plexus, causing hit
breath to rush out and his diaphragm to seize up. His arms flapped about like a
wounded bird, until his right hand landed on Chris’ shoulder, his fingers spasmed closed, causing him to clutch a handful of vest,
and shirt.
“Oh, shit, hahaha, I’m, sorry, hehe, I didn’t mean, HAHAHAAAA…” She tried to apologize,
but seeing Dusty looking like a stunned, beached carp was just about the
funniest sight she had ever seen.
“Are you OK, Dusty?” Chris enquired, looking concerned.
Dusty stumbled back, the back of his legs struck a vanity chair and
he sat down heavily. He still had a handful of Chris’ clothes, and dragged the
singer along, tangling their feet as he lost his balance, involuntarily sitting
down. Chris suddenly found himself in Dusty’s lap,
straddling his legs. Dusty’s face was pressed into
the side of the surprised tenor’s neck, just as his lungs decided to start
working again.
He took a tremendous gasp of indrawn air, and then just sat there
panting into Chris’ neck and ear. Despite the way that they had ended up in
this position, Chris quietly groaned and shuddered as he closed his eyes to
enjoy the single most erotic experience of his life. Dusty felt Chris’ instant
erection press hard into his flat stomach, and slid his hands down to his ass
to pull him closer. They looked around at the sound of a throat being loudly
cleared.
“I think that all of us in here would appreciate it if the two of you
would wait until we don’t have to be present. It was bad enough watching the
two of you eye-fucking each other during the performance. I really don’t have
any desire to see more, thank you.”
Chris scrambled up, blushing crimson. Dusty stood, rubbing his
mid-section.
“Well, if we can’t leave together, how are we gonna handle this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve…I mean, its been…I…I…I
have a room that I share with Jed”
“Not a problem.” Deb assured Chris, “Jed and I’ll be getting our own
room.”
“How about we meet you guys at
your motel?” The red head inquired of Chris.
“Uh, yeah, that’d be great.”
“Which one are you in, and what room?”
“The Ramada, room number 232.”
“Great, see you there.” Dusty slid his hand behind Chris’ head, his
right slipping to the small of his back.
He pulled him in close, his lips
just barely brushing Chris’. His tongue snaked out and swiped at his bottom
lip, Chris gasped, startled by the unexpected sensation. Dusty took advantage
of his parted lips by slipping his tongue into the warm depths of his mouth. It
was abundantly clear that Chris would have hit the floor if Dusty hadn’t been
so strong. As it was, Chris just sort of sagged like a rag doll, his knees
completely unequal to the task of holding him up. Dusty gave his ass a little
squeeze as he got him back onto his feet.
“See ya there?”
“Right; sure, you bet.” Chris looked beyond dazed.
“Right. Let’s go, Deb.” Dusty said,
turning to his friend.
As they left, the band could hear Deb continuing her complaint to
Dusty about how to get pointers on making a guy swoon.
“God, help me! I think I’m in
love.” Chris was leaning back against the wall for support.
“Lust.” said
“Same difference.” Eric piped in.
Deb was standing in the lobby, waiting for them, but Dusty was
nowhere to be seen. Looking concerned, Chris approached her. She smiled and
pointed upstairs. Quickly returning her
smile, he was off, moving towards the elevator like the hounds of hell were on
his heels.
When
the door opened, he saw Dusty leaning back against the ice machine, ankles
crossed, thumbs hooked in his pockets, fingers framing his basket. The entire
pose designed to display the goods to their best advantage. Chris just stood
there, enraptured. He snapped out of the trance when the door started to close
again, and reached out to stop it.
“Which way?” Dusty asked as he reached down
to pick up the paper bags by his feet.
“What?”
“To your room…which way?”
“Oh, right. Follow me.” Chris said, blushing slightly and heading out
of the elevator alcove.
“Endlessly, Babe.”
Dusty was walking so close to him
he could feel his body heat. His warm breath washed over the back of Chris’
neck, sending goose bumps down his arms and across his chest. Chris felt like
his guts were turning to jelly. He absolutely could not get the damned
key card to work right. Dusty reached around him, and caught his hand. Taking
the key card, he unlocked the door for them, and using full body pressure, got
Chris moving into the room ahead of him. Once across the threshold, he put out
the do not disturb sign, and grabbed the ice bucket.
“What’s in the bags?”
“Have a look see, while I go get some ice.” Dusty replied, smiling.
Chris started pulling stuff out of the bag. A 5th of
Raspberry Smirnoff, another of coconut Captain Morgan’s rum, blue plastic cups,
and some snack food. He had just pulled a large box of ultra thin Ramses and a
big bottle of lube that claimed to, “Make it last through any extreme situation
with our new ’waterless’, condom safe formula that never dries out! Smooth,
silky texture last and last until you’re done.” when Dusty came back in with
the ice. He blushed, and dropped the bottle like he’d been burned.
Dusty grinned, “You have done this before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, sure, of course. It’s just been a
while, and never with…”
Dusty strolled over to him, and leaning into the shorter man’s back
asked, “With what?”
“With, someone, ssso,
h…hot.”
His insides were quivering again, and he couldn’t seem to control his voice
around this guy.
With his mouth right by Chris’ ear, he whispered, “Mmmm, thanks, but I find that hard to believe. You’re a hot
little number yourself, all wiry muscles, and untapped energy. I’m dying to see
which one of us wears out first.”
That deep voice right in his ear, the warm breath puffing against his
hair and neck had Chris in such a state of arousal, that if Dusty had touched
him at that moment, he would have blown his load right then. He already had a
wet spot on his underpants, and slacks from precum.
He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he started seeing spots.
Luckily, Dusty moved away to pour some drinks and he was able to take a breath
and try to regain his equilibrium.
“Smirnoff, or Captain Morgan?”
“Which ever, I don’t care.”
“OK. Captain Morgan it is.”
Chris sat on one of the beds as Dusty played bartender. He took the
glass that was offered to him, and drained it.
“Whoa, I don’t want you incapacitated, just relaxed.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have a really fast
metabolism. Alcohol doesn’t affect me as much as most people. As a matter of
fact, I think I need another.” He said with conviction and stood to get it.
Dusty stood, and caught him around the waist. “Actually, I think what
you need is me. Let me give you a massage, I guarantee it’ll relax you way
better than booze. It’ll also let you get used to me touching you. We just need
to start off slow is all, not just jump right in. We’ve got all night, after
all.”
He reached around, and dug into the second bag, pulling out another
bottle, this one containing a yellow-white liquid. When he popped the top,
Chris could smell coconut and pineapple.
“Pina Colada flavored massage lotion.” He said, smiling
lecherously. “Take your clothes off, and lie on your stomach on the bed.”
Chris spent a couple minutes fumbling with the buttons on his
waistcoat, until Dusty took over. The rum didn’t seem to be kicking in yet, and
his coordination was shot from his nerves, not to mention being painfully
aroused for a couple hours.
He had gotten all of the buttons on Chris’s vest, and shirt undone,
when Chris stopped him.
“I think I’d like to take a quick shower first. If
you don’t mind?”
“Not in the least. I’ll join you.” Dusty replied, smiling.
“Well, actually, I’d like to do it alone. I mean, I’d be more
comfortable, ya know, if I
could just have a few minutes to myself.”
“Not a problem. Take your time, and once you feel ready, we can enjoy
each other.” Dusty stepped back to let Chris move past him.
Chris found he could control his fingers with Dusty in the other
room, and managed to get undressed without trouble. His nerves were on edge; he
couldn’t believe that this incredibly looking guy actually wanted to be with
him. Chris knew his reactions so far had to have made it clear that he didn’t
have a hell of a lot of experience in the bedroom.
He knew people thought he must be comfortable with sexual matters,
because he sang songs about love, sex, and intimacy with such conviction, but
it was just an act. Once you got him off of the stage, he was at a complete
loss. He had never managed to screw up his courage enough to approach someone
that he found attractive. He had only been with two guys, and that was because
they had approached him.
He finished his shower quickly, but stalled for a while. He was
afraid to leave the bathroom. Figuring that he might leave soon, if he hadn’t
already, Chris girded his loins with his terrycloth robe and opened the door.
He stepped out, dreading that the room would be empty. When he saw
Dusty slouched on the bed farthest from the door a wave of relief washed over
him. Then he didn’t know what to do.
“You’re shy.” It wasn’t a question. “Jeez, Chris, how can someone who
goes out on a stage all the time, and sings, and struts around like he owns the
place, be shy?”
“I don’t know. I guess, when I’m performing, it’s like, I know
I can give them…I can…I know what’s expected of me, and know I can
fulfill their expectations, but this…”he took a deep breath, ”I don’t…I’m
scared that I’ll, screw up, and you’ll be like, ‘Shit, this guy ain’t worth the trouble, I’m outa
here.’ I mean, I…” his eyes were shining like he was about to break down and
cry.
Dusty felt his heart swell with
emotion and it was a startling sensation, to say the least. It was one of those
things he had read in books, but had always thought was just literary license,
not something that actually happened to people. Like
“wringing your hands in distress”. It was almost funny when he realized
that Chris was doing just that, only it was the belt of the robe he was wearing
that was taking the abuse, rather than his hands.
Dusty got up from the bed, and said, “Come in here.” He moved past
Chris to enter the bathroom. When Chris didn’t follow, he repeated firmly,
“Come here, Chris.”
The singer took a hesitant step toward him. Dusty reached out, and
caught his wrist, pulling Chris to stand between him and the mirror. He stood
behind him, with his hands lightly on his shoulders. His hands slid down Chris’
arms to his waist. They slowly, caressingly glided them around his waist to lie
on his trembling stomach. Leisurely, Dusty unwrapped
the belt and let the robe fall open. Skimming his hands up through the light
thatch of blond hair, Dusty smoothed the robe back off of the creamy shoulders,
allowing it to drop to the floor.
“Look at yourself.” He breathed into the shell of Chris’ ear, palms
resting on his bare hips. “What do you see?”
“I…”
“What you see,” Dusty whispered, “is someone that I think is
extraordinarily sexy. You look at yourself, and you wonder, ‘how can someone I
think is beyond gorgeous want to be with me?’ What you’re not considering is
that not everyone would find me as attractive as you do.”
Chris made a sound of incredulity.
“Take my word for it. I’ve been turned down plenty of times. My advice…don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Dusty
smiled at him in the mirror as he pulled Chris back into his straining cock.
Chris shivered, and groaned, lifting his arms to pull Dusty’s
head into the crook of his neck, while arching his back so that his ass pushed
into the denim clad groin behind him. Chris’ erection was flaming red, and
twitching.
“Now, about that massage…” Dusty took his hand, and pulled him into
the other room
Dusty had Chris lie on his stomach, while he stripped, and then
straddled his hips. Chris could hear him open the lotion bottle, squirt some
into his palm, and smooth it around to warm it up. Firm hands touched down at
his shoulder blades, and smoothed up to Chris’ shoulders, causing his breath to
catch in his throat. After a few minutes of slow, sensual rubbing, he began to
relax into the experience. As Dusty slowly moved down his back, Chris could
feel his hard cock trailing down the crack of his ass, bumping back and forth.
When Dusty began following his hands with his lips and tongue, he
couldn’t help but groan, and spread his legs slightly. Dusty’s
entire hands were working his butt cheeks, while his mouth was sending shivers
from the base of his spine to the rest of his body. He clutched the pillow, and
ground his hips into the mattress, whimpering incoherently when Dusty’s tongue slipped into the top of his crack.
When he felt his cheeks being pried apart, he held his breath in
anticipation. The actual sensation of having this beautiful man swirl his tongue
around the edge of his hole, then clamp his lips around it, creating a suction,
was intense, but when he flickered and probed it with his agile tongue, it was
too much.
“AAAAAHH, Ohhh, GOD, HUUUUUHG!” his entire
body spasmed with the intensity of his orgasm; he was
literally blind for a few seconds. Afterward, all he could do was lie there,
twitching, and gasping for air.
Dusty
continued to stroke his back, buttocks, and thighs. It was sensual, yes, but
mostly soothing. Like he knew that Chris needed to come down,
before he could stand more stimulation. When his breathing had returned
to normal, he felt himself being turned over. He opened his eyes to find Dusty
smiling down at him.
“And think, that was just a little
foreplay.” He looked down between their bodies. “You’re still hard. God, I knew
I was gonna love being with you.”
At this he slid down, and began licking up the sperm that covered
Chris’ stomach, making little appreciative sounds as he did it. He got as much
as he could without touching Chris’ still aching cock, and then moved back up
for a kiss. He kissed Chris’ lips for a bit, and then slipped his tongue into
his mouth. The combined taste of Dusty’s mouth, the
massage lotion, and his own essence was glorious. He never wanted the kiss to
end, and clutched at the red head when he tried to move back down his body.
Dusty indulged him for a bit, but soon pulled away to continue moving
down, his lips and tongue exploring every inch between Chris’ mouth and his
goal. He took the time to bring both of the singer’s nipples to an almost
painfully erect state. Chris was already losing himself in the new sensations
that Dusty was causing to course through his body.
Dusty loved the sexy little whimpers, groans, and disjointed words
that Chris clearly couldn’t control. He didn’t know how much longer he could
hold out. He’d been hard off and on for a good two and a half hours now, and
his entire groin was throbbing and aching. He’d nearly lost control when he
realized that Chris was blowing his load earlier.
“Chris?”
“Chris.”
“Huh?”
“I need you to do something for me, Chris.”
“Anything, what do you need?”
“I’m really starting to hurt, man.” He slid up, and lay next to him
on the cool sheets. “I want to make everything perfect for you, but I really
need a little relief to be able to do that. Will you just touch me; just use
your hands to help me out here, please?”
Chris took a closer look at Dusty and saw the strain in his face, and
his labored breathing. Looking down, he saw that his
cock was so engorged that he could actually see his pulse. It was an angry
purple color for half of the length. Rolling to his side, he pushed on Dusty’s hip to get him onto his back. Chris continued
rolling until he was on his knees, straddling his right leg. He took a few
seconds to examine the cock with its silky looking thatch of auburn hair.
This was only the third cock he had ever seen in person, not counting
his own. It was long enough that it was drooling precum
directly into his navel, and looked thick enough that Chris’ hand would only
just encase the circumference. He placed his palms on Dusty’s
firm pecs, and smoothed his hands down his torso to
either side of his cock, never taking his eyes off of it. Dusty clutched the
sheets on either side of his hips. He couldn’t keep from grinding his pelvis
into the air while groaning in anticipation.
“You’re uncut, aren’t you?” Chris asked, looking up. Dusty was biting
his lip, looking pained. The best he could do was nod in answer. “I’ve never
seen one that wasn’t circumcised. It’s beautiful.” He breathed.
“Chris, please!”
His reply was to gently lift Dusty’s cock up, and out of the way so that he could lick the pool of precum out of his navel. It was salty-sweet, slick, like
room temperature jell-o, and smelled musky. He smoothed it around his mouth as
he moved his face down to the base of Dusty’s pole.
With his tongue spread out flat and broad, he licked in one long motion up to
the tip, then swirled it around the tip without pausing. He heard Dusty’s breath catch and rush out
in a loud groan when he tongued the piss slit.
He swirled around the head in a downward spiral until the tip of his
tongue slipped under the edge of the glans. Dusty’s right hand settled onto the back of his head. It
felt like a butterfly in his hair, like he was scared Chris would pull away if
he applied the least pressure, but Chris could feel it trembling just the same.
Wrapping his lips around the entire head, he sucked softly as he slid the shaft
into his mouth. He rocked his whole body back until his ass was touching his
heels so that he could get his throat into the right position to take him
completely in.
“Hah hah hah hah, Aahhhh.”
It almost sounded like he was laughing and Chris could see Dusty’s balls pulling up hard. He knew Dusty was about to
come, and didn’t want him to yet, so he pulled off almost completely. With his
right hand, he gripped the base of his cock, applying uniform pressure all the
way around. With his left, he made a circle of his fingers and thumb, and carefully
pulled Dusty’s testicles down. This was a technique
he had read about in a book, and wasn’t entirely sure that it would work the
way it said. He waited until Dusty’s legs stopped
quivering, then retuned to the stimulation.
Taking him in all the way again, the blond bobbed his head up and
down slowly, swirling his tongue back and forth on the underside. He had
forgotten how much he loved the feel of a hot, hard cock in his mouth, and he
had every intention of enjoying it as long as possible. When Chris went down
all the way, he could feel the head twitching in his throat. He was so turned
on by the power he held over this god-like man at this moment that he couldn’t
keep from moaning in pleasure, twisting his head around like he was sucking on
a stationary lollypop, and bobbing his head up and down rapidly. This was way
too much for Dusty to take. When Chris felt him swell, throbbing hard in his
mouth he knew he had misjudged the timing. All he could do was pull back so the
blast wouldn’t choke him, and accept the offering.
“Uuuh, Huhhg, Uuh, Gooooddd, Huuuhh, Chriiiiiisssss, Huuuuu.”
It felt like about a quart of cum hit the roof of his mouth, though
he knew it couldn’t be more than a couple tablespoons. Chris had never seen
anyone get so lost in an orgasm before. Every single muscle on Dusty’s body was either twitching, or standing out in
bas-relief. His hips thrust in symphonic rhythms, an almost perfect 4/4
measure. It was the most beautiful sight in the world. He imagined that this
must be what Mozart had felt when he conducted one of his great operas,
physically guiding the orchestra to play his music exactly the way he heard it
in his mind. It was heady, and exhilarating.
Once he felt Dusty’s penis begin to slowly
deflate, he let it slide slowly out of his mouth, and gently laid it on Dusty’s stomach. He gradually worked his way back up Dusty’s body, planting open mouthed kisses along the way,
so that they were lying next to each other, he on his side, and Dusty still on
his back. Dusty’s right arm was flung out under the
arch of Chris’ side, and it came up to pull him into Dusty’s
side at the same time that he turned his head to look at him.
“You know, you act like some kind of a sweet, virgin angel, but you
got a mouth like the very devil himself. God, damn. I thought I was gonna have
a fucking coronary, or something. I’ve had a lot of great blowjobs in my life,
Chris, but that was the trump. How can you have performance anxiety in
the sack when you know how to play cock like Gabriel blowing on Judgment Day?”
“I didn’t know I knew how. I mean, I’ve only done it a couple times,
and they didn’t seem all that thrilled with the way I did it, so I started
reading any book I could get my hands on that looked like it might give a clue
as to how to do it right.
“Bullshit. Books don’t give you the physical ability to deep throat a
guy’s meat, man.”
Chris sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs. He looked extremely
uncomfortable again. He mumbled something that Dusty couldn’t catch.
“What?”
“Iprobledwidacucmboble.” He said, with his
face pressed into the hollow created by his arms, and legs.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” Dusty said, propping himself up onto his
elbows.
Chris lifted his head, and covering his closed eyes with his hands,
he repeated, “I practiced with a cucumber. OK? Go ahead, laugh.”
“Why?”