Title: White Party '99 - Friday
Author: Paul Plesko
Email address: pplesko@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: White Party '99
Character/Pairings: Brian/Ben; Brian/other
Category: Drama, POV, episode-related
Rating: NC-17
Date: Nov. 30, 2002
Summary: This story depicts four days in late November of 1999 …the 15th annual celebration…and Brian Kinney's first visit to the party he had heard about for the entire gay portion of his 28 years. It was like a pilgrimage to Mecca…a child's first visit to Disney World…or an itch that cannot be scratched. It was a compulsion, pure and simple, for a man who followed wherever his compulsions led.
Spoilers: Episode 212
Warnings: None
Author Notes: Brian found someone before he even left Pittsburgh…a young Assistant Professor from Carnegie-Mellon bound for the same party…for "research." Their celebration got off to a bang-up start, followed by a memorable visit from "Room Service." All hotels should be like the Delano! Day 2 dawns…too early.
But Friday is another day in a new city. New experiences, new searches, new conquests.
White Party '99 - Friday
by Paul Plesko
Who forgot to shut the fucking curtains? The sunrise was cutting across the open ocean like a knife sticking right into my squinting eyes. Six a.m. I’d only had about three hours of sleep… although I couldn’t remember exactly. Waking up and getting my bearings in strange surroundings had always been a problem for me.
The bright light was suddenly interrupted by a shadow… but as soon as I opened my eyes, the sunlight returned to blind me. FUCK!
"Sorry, I woke you," he said softly as he positioned his body to put me in his shadow. "I was just trying to find the rest of my clothes. We undressed kinda fast last night, and everything got spread around… I found my underwear on the lamp," he added.
It was that guy from last night… the professor from Pittsburgh. How could he be so wide-awake? He had been getting-even with me for the bondage scene as recently as 2 am. Early-risers should be shot!
We had fucked again after the Cubans left… a slow, more languorous fuck with the full-moon light streaming in through the windows over the bed, making his skin shine like silver. There was no struggle for dominance this time; he actually encouraged me to fuck him. "Give it to me slowly this time… and make it last all night," he had whispered. The champagne buzz made it feel as if we were floating; we had held each other for support and kissed long kisses without pausing for breath. We had cum simultaneously that time. I caught his cum on the back of my hand… a gush, not an explosion… and I had fed it to him along with the warm contents of my condom. We had slept the sleep of satiation.
By the time I shielded my eyes and sat up, he had disappeared into the bathroom.
I rolled over, trying to keep my eyes shielded, but couldn’t sleep with my arm in the air, so I decided to close the Venetian blinds and the curtains. I wondered if passers-by on the beach got a good look at the bedroom gymnastics we had attempted last night. I could imagine the Olympic judges holding up a row of "9.9"s. I padded across the room and yanked the rope to close the blinds… and they fell off their brackets and clattered to the floor with a metallic crash.
"What the fuck?" He came out of the bathroom almost fully-dressed, with shaving cream on his face. "Oh, you decided to get up? Good morning," he said, matter-of-factly.
I arched an eyebrow and tried to smooth my bed-head. "No… but it may be a good morning… in about 5 hours… just maybe," I moaned. "This is my vacation."
"I was planning to leave you a note," he said as he wiped his face with a towel. "I need to get the rest of my bags out of the car." He was dangling the car-keys in his hand. "I’ll leave these at the desk… and I’ll take a cab to the Jefferson. You’ll know where to find me if you want to get together later… and thanks for a great evening. What a way to start the weekend."
"Yeah… maybe we’ll run into each other. There’re only about 4000 other guys to fuck at this party, so we’ll probably be bumping shoulders in the back-rooms."
"You’re right. This place is a banquet, and I intend to get my fill," he said with a smile.
I was tempted to make some sort of joke about "filling him" last night, but it was too early for humor.
"As a matter of fact, I’m gonna go find a Continental Breakfast… right now," he added. "Maybe with a French accent." He slung his jacket over his shoulder and spun out the door. "Adios."
"Finally… someone who knows how to fuck… and LEAVE," I said sinking back onto the pillows. But as I drifted back to sleep, I remembered the eroticism of last night… the bed still smelled of sex… and lots of it… and he was a nice guy. I’d say we competed to-a-draw… and both of us won. As evenly matched as one could find.
=====
The second time I awoke, it was 10am and the maid was knocking at the door. I told her to come back in half an hour. I had plans.
After a quick breakfast, I put on my black Speedo and black lycra muscle shirt and headed to the car with my beach bag and towel. Haulover Beach was famous on the East Coast… the largest municipally-sponsored nude beach in the continental US… and only a ten mile drive north. During White Party Week, it would be packed.
I parked across the street and walked through the cool underpass to the beach. Actually only half of the beach was designated "clothing optional"… and the dividing line was the lifeguard’s station. Too bad he’d chosen the wrong option, because he was a hunky 6-foot-4-inch demigod who would have looked even better without the faded red boxers. I spread my black beach towel on the sand in a fairly open spot just a slight head-turn out of the lifeguard’s straight-ahead gaze, slipped out of my suit… then the shirt, as I felt dozens of pairs of eyes watching me. Newcomers were always given the once-over, I guessed.
The nude portion of the beach was as heavily populated and the clothed-section. I had expected an overwhelming majority to be male, since this was White Party Week, but the beach-goers were divided roughly 50-50, male-female. Approximately a third of the men were a pleasure to view in-the-buff; the remainder were of little interest to me, other than to marvel at their willingness to "show-it."
I walked to the water’s edge, choosing my path to get better looks at a few men who caught my attention. Several looked-up or smiled or made a greeting. Many eyes watched me pass. The water felt cool at first as I waded to mid-thigh depth. And then I took-the-plunge and swam parallel to the beach for a few hundred yards, then reversed my direction and exited at the far end of the nude section. I wanted to get a good look at the possibilities…but, from a first perusal, the lifeguard seemed the best prospect. I detoured to walk by his station on the way back to my towel. As I looked up at him, leaning on the railing, there was a lovely view up his pantleg; the bright sunlight shining through the red polyester fabric gave his soft cock a rosy, aroused glow.
"Buy you a beer?" I said as he pretended, for the first time, to notice me standing there.
"No beer on the beach," he said. Nice, authoritative deep voice… I liked that. "And I can’t drink on-duty."
"I was thinking about later," I said… taking a few steps up the ramp to get a better view… and to give him a better view.
"Ummmm… you’ve gotta stay on this side of the platform," he warned. "No nudity on that side. And why would you want to buy me a beer, anyway?" This guy was apparently straight, but that wasn’t necessarily an impediment… just a challenge.
"No ulterior motive," I answered. "Just being friendly. It’s a hot day. I’m thirsty. I’m a tourist… thought maybe you’d know a good place."
"Well… ya never know," he said, shaking his head. "This is Queer Week… as if this place isn’t queer enough… and I just thought you might be… one of THEM."
"Asshole," I thought. "Oh, I AM," I said. "But if you’re not… that’s OK, too. Some guys swing both ways… some experiment… you never know… and I just figured you were the best looking guy on the beach… and I only go for the best…"
He smiled before catching himself. Compliments for his appearance were probably welcome from the ladies.
"I was only offering a beer… and promising nothing more. You can think about it," I added as I turned toward my towel. "It’s the best offer you’ll get all day." I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked away… and when I reached my towel he was still watching me… perhaps in disbelief, perhaps in indecision.
I stretched out on the towel on my back and began to spread the oily lotion over my torso, arms, and legs. But, by the time I was finished, Brian, Jr. was waving hello to the crowd, so I rolled over onto my belly and spread out to soak up the sunshine. My cock dug into the sand looking for the cool dampness. There was nothing like the heat of the almost noon-day sun to warm you and relax you almost instantaneously. I probably dozed.
But suddenly I was aware of the sound of footsteps crunching the sand near me. At first, I thought it might be the homophobic lifeguard. "If that fucker kicks sand on my towel," I thought, "I’ll be pissed." But instead, the footsteps stopped. Someone was standing next to me.
I turned my head and opened my eyes a slit to discover someone crouching just a few feet away, knees wide-spread, and cock dangling just inches from my upturned face.
"Hi," he said.
I sat up, partially, to see who was making an approach. I shaded my eyes to see him. "Hi yourself."
"My brother… over there… dared me to come over and talk to you." He motioned toward a blonde young-man reclining on a towel in the distance.
"So, you won the bet," I said. This one was blonde, too… a curly mop of hair… probably about 20… as tan (all over) as a blonde can get… a younger version of Christopher Atkins in "Blue Lagoon." "Wanta sit down and make him jealous?"
He settled onto the warm sand. "I was watching you," he said. "Well, so was everyone else. You put lotion on your front, but then turned over. Don’t you want some on your back… so you won’t burn?"
"Sure… I’d appreciate that," I said, grinding my hardening cock into the sand at the thought of this boy spreading the lotion all over me. "There are some spots that are… hard to reach." I had spent hours in the tanning salon for the last three weeks, preparing for this trip… but he was right… the noon sun in Miami could broil you quickly. I handed him the lotion. He looked back toward his brother and smiled, probably some kind of competitive "hey, look at me" expression.
The sun had warmed the oil inside the brown bottle, so when he squirted some on my back, it almost felt like a cum-shot. My cock gave a twinge. And then his hands, strong and soft, began spreading the oil over my back and shoulders… then down onto my arms… and back onto my shoulders again. "You have a great body," he murmured.
"And you’re gonna get your ass fucked if you keep doing it THAT way," I replied.
"Tell me something I don’t already know," he said brazenly.
"What about your brother? Do I get two for the price of one?"
He laughed. "Oh, we’re not soliciting, if that’s what you think. We come here all the time, but during White Party Week, most of the guys are gay, so we get more courage about approaching someone." His hands were moving over my ass, softly following the curves as he let the heel of his hand slide into my crack to open it up. I turned to see if the lifeguard was watching this. And then he used both hands on the backs of my thighs… one side at a time, massaging the oil into my skin as if he were rubbing lanolin into leather… a deep muscle massage, as his fingers slipped deeply between my thighs.
The other brother, probably older but looking like a twin, arose and picked up his towel. I knew he couldn’t stay away for long.
"Mind if I join you?" he said provocatively. "I’m Dean."
"And I’m David," the other added as his hands moved up to the small of my back again and began applying pressure that was crushing my hard cock in the most delightful way. "Where are you from?"
"Pittsburgh," I said. "Yes… I’m a hard-fucking tourist from Pennsylvania who’s come down here to show the natives what gay men are like… and to partake of some of the ‘local attractions.’"
They chuckled. Dean spread his towel adjacent to mine and settled down elbow-to-elbow with me. David stopped the massage and lay on the warm sand on my other side. As we talked about mundane things, Dean’s hand began to slide, palm up, sideways along the towel, just grazing my hip bone and slipped under my abs where they lifted to leave space for my cock as it ground a well into the towel and sand. I lifted my groin slightly. His fingers dug and encircled the flesh-column. "I knew it was a nice one," he murmured. "I could tell from a distance. Care to give us a better look… in the parking lot?"
"I can show you right here. A stiff one can’t be that unusual on a nude beach." I started to roll over.
"No," he said quietly. "I don’t just want to look. I want to suck it… and ride it. We both do."
I had thought about giving the lifeguard the "Kinney Approach"… after he’d had a chance to view the merchandise… but these two were ripe-for-the-picking and too eager to pass-up. Getting picked-up was not something I usually did… but this was Miami, during White Party Week… and anything could happen. "Let’s go," I said.
As we put on our suits to leave the beach, I gave the lifeguard a wave. He’d never know what he had missed. The "twins," in burgundy and blue low-rise boxers, led the way to a black Ford Expedition parked in the far corner of the parking lot. The rear seats were down and an exercise mat filled the rear compartment. These boys were prepared.
"You want to fuck in THAT?" I said.
"We both live in the University of Miami dorm, but it’s closed for the holiday… and Mom is at home in Coral Gables, too… we’ve got her SUV, actually… so we usually just 'play' here in the parking lot." Obviously, this was a regular recreation for the pair.
"I have a hotel about ten miles away. We can go there," I said. "It’s much more comfortable and a lot more private. Unless you’re in a hurry, of course…"
"Fuck, no…" "Where is it?" "Lead the way!" They were both talking at the same time.
"Follow me," I said.
=====
As we walked past the pool on the way to the bungalow, they asked if they could take a swim. "To get the sand off my legs," explained Dean.
"Sure," I answered. "Just don’t take too long. The champagne’s already cold."
They splashed around for only a few minutes, and then appeared at the door of the bungalow, dripping and eager. I handed each of them a glass of champagne.
Wet suits were quickly off and tossed into the bathroom sink. While one toweled the water off his back, the other sank to his knees and began to suck my hardening cock. Soon, they knelt side by side, with lips sliding along both sides of the length of my shaft… two mouths… double pleasure.
"Over here," I said, indicating the bed. They followed me on their knees while trying to maintain contact. I lay on the bed and they hovered over me, one sucking my shaft and the other tonguing my ball-sac. A soft cheek against my inner thigh… warm saliva on smooth-shaved skin… taut lips catching the mushroom tip… and two pairs of hands stroking my body to full arousal.
I fucked the first one while the other watched, stroking himself slowly as if it were his cock sliding into his brother. And then vice-versa… rolling Number Two onto his belly over the chest of his brother. They caressed each other as if they did it regularly. They rolled into 69-position while I continued to fuck the one on-top. The sound of their moaning from cock-stuffed mouths aroused me even further.
We played like this for over an hour. I controlled my urge to cum; they brought each other to the peak, but not over-the-edge. Fucking first one, then the other… then letting them explore me with soft tongues and warm lips… twisting in the crisp white sheets… smelling the chlorine in their hair and tasting it on their skin… positioning them… showing them new positions and techniques… sucking their steel-hard, youthful cocks as they moaned their approval… letting them test their strength against mine… tasting their maleness… arousing the fever in them.
As the afternoon waned, I positioned Dean on his hands and knees… then draped David over his back, groin-to-ass, with his arms wrapped under his brother’s chest and his chin against Dean’s shoulder. Spreading both brothers’ knees, I opened two ass-cracks for penetration… soft, moist sphincters, lubed and prepared by earlier fucks, waited in anticipation for the final assault.
Partially kneeling, I entered David first… the one on top… sliding into him full length as he clutched his brother and moaned into his ear. After a stroke or two, I pulled out, leaving his hole gaping like a goldfish gulping air, I knelt a little lower, and I thrust into a surprised Dean. He arched his back, shifting his brother’s weight, and then rocked backwards onto my penetrating shaft.
"Fuck me," he murmured. "Fuck us both!"
While I fucked Dean, his cock swayed forward and back, striking his brother’s forearm. David released one arm from his brother’s chest and reached below his brother to jack his cock in-rhythm with my thrusts.
While I fucked David, he continued to milk his brother, while he rubbed his own cock along his brother’s spine. A few minutes inside one… a few minutes in the other… and back again… I fucked them as they spoke to each other and to me… words of lust… arousal… pleasure. We rocked forward and back in perfect rhythm, never missing a beat. I watched my cock find its way into alternating holes… I watched their bodies stiffen as they approached their climax. And, in the end, I felt their muscles tighten on my throbbing shaft as I plunged into both of them as they shot their loads… double-convulsions… multiple orgasms… noisy sounds of release.
My final thrust was so violent, it knocked Dean forward, sprawling onto the bed with the two of us atop him. My cock was buried in David as I felt the waves of muscle contractions expelling my cum against his tightness.
We lay in a heap of cum- and sweat-soaked limbs and torsos. I nuzzled two blond heads with sweat-dampened cheeks. Their labored breathing lifted me with each gasp.
I was the first to regain the power of speech. "Ready to go again?" They both moaned and we all laughed.
This time, all three of us took a dip in the pool before the boys headed for home.
"We thought we’d be lucky to get a taste of you," said Dean. "We hit the jackpot, I guess!"
=====
I slept for a few hours, comfortable after the warm sunshine, the physical exertion, and the splendid climax. I need to replenish my strength for that night… the White Dreams Party at the Seaquarium, second-only to the White Party itself in splendor and in sexual exhilaration. After a late supper, I caught the water taxis to Key Biscayne. The loud party could be heard echoing across the water over the engine noises of the boat. The place was like ten Babylons rolled into one. It’s amazing that it didn’t disturb the fish and other sea-life in the aquarium. And the party was only an hour old; many of the party-goers hadn’t arrived yet. The place would be filled by midnight, and the party lasted until 6 am.
I took my place on one of the balconies overlooking the main dance floor; the light-show was spectacular… the vast interior space throbbed with pulsating lights, swam in a sea of swirling spotlights, and sizzled with the startling strobe-light display… the closest thing to being inside a fireworks display.
I looked straight down from my perch and got my first glimpse of him. Perhaps it was the angle that made his pecs so impressive… his ass so rounded. He was dancing below me with a group of guys in similar clothing… fatigue pants and a gray t-shirt I couldn’t read from this angle. But his ass was bare… and so were his feet… he appeared to be wearing just the tee-shirt… so I decided to investigate. I worked my way through the crowd to the stairs and descended to the main dance floor level. His group had moved, but I found them without too much effort. He was the shortest of the six… approximately 6 feet tall… short, blond hair with a little spike in front… a perfect smile and sparking blue eyes… actually not my usual type, a little too "pretty"… but his ass looked even better from this angle. Their matching gray shirts said "USMC," so they were either Marines, or pretending to be. One of the taller guys seemed to be very protective of him… keeping his arm around his shoulder as they stood laughing as a group. I stepped closer to a better look. He wasn’t naked from the waist-down… he was wearing a white athletic "jock" strap that accentuated the globes of his ass and pointed at the glory-hole. The music blasted again and the group broke into pairs to dance. Jock-strap-boy was carrying a beer that he sucked while he danced. He was feeling no pain and enjoying himself. I cruised past, making a mental note to keep him in-mind… very hot… very ready… very fuckable.
I felt a hand on my shoulder… I was wearing the black lycra tanktop, my usual hunting attire… and the hand felt warm and strong on my deltoid. I spun to face him… Ben, the guy from Pittsburgh. "I thought you didn’t have a ticket for this party," I shouted over the music.
"Some guy told me I shouldn’t miss it," he countered in a loud voice. "The White Party is more genteel, more polite… this party is a fucking orgy, he said… so I shelled-out the extra cash. For research…" he said with a wink. "By the way, I wanted to tell you, speaking of a ‘fucking-orgy,’ …that was a wild time last night. I left this morning still unable to tell you how spectacular it really was… and not wanting to ruin it by trying to duplicate it. But any time you’re ready…"
I cut him off before he had a chance to say something that would be a turn-off. "Found anyone today?"
"A few of the guys at the Jefferson were frisky this afternoon. I had two guys competing to give me a blow-job… so I let them share. But I’ve been trying to save my energy for tonight. How about you?"
"I went to the nude beach… hit on a homophobic prick-lifeguard… but found a little action. But I really want to find someone here. Him… for example." I pointed at the jock-boy through the crowd.
"Oooooh… NICE!" he said with a nod… "and the guy with him isn’t bad either. He looks like G.I. Joe on steroids."
"That gives me an idea," I said, pulling Ben off the dance floor. "You take Joe-boy… I don’t care what you do with him… just get him away from jock-boy… and I’ll step in."
"I’ll show you the technique I developed to perfection at Yale… the genteel approach." He lifted his plastic cup filled with beer and gave it a twist.
He moved slowly through the crowd of dancers to the Quantico crowd, gauging his angle of approach. As he passed them, his elbow poked one in the ribs, which caused him to spin-around, knocking Ben's beer cup which spilled all over G.I. Joe’s shirt. After a flurry of brushing off damp foam and apologies, Ben began conversing with the guy… and I moved in to "cut the lamb from the flock."
"Semper Fi," I said in his ear. He turned.
"Ooo-RAAH!" he said in reply. "Oh, YES…" he said as he looked me up-and-down slowly.
"In Latin, I believe that means ‘Always hot and tight,’ doesn’t it?" I said with a grin.
His forehead furrowed at the perceived insult to the Corps… but then he smiled, remembering where he was. "Something like that," he said. "We have a tradition to uphold." He gave the pouch of his jock-strap a heft with his cupped hand. And he smiled that big grin again… all teeth-and-blue-eyes.
"I need another beer. Care to join me?" I said as I wrapped my forearm around the small of his back and guided him away from the group who were paying more attention to Ben.
"I’m empty," he said, inverting his bottle. "Sure." He led the way through the crowd to the bar. There was a long line.
I stepped beside him and put my hand on the small of his back again… then let it slip down to follow the curvature of one strap as it curved over his hip… smooth as his chest and back.
"Are you a Marine?" he asked over his shoulder.
"No way," I replied. "I can’t take orders for-shit… and the only ass-kissing I do is brief foreplay. Other than the hot uniform, it had no attraction for me." As I spoke, I traced the curvature of his ass-globe and let my fingers slide seductively into his ass-crack. They came out wet and slick; the guy had come to the party pre-lubed. I lifted the two fingers to show him I’d noticed. And I added the raised eyebrow of recognition.
"Before I was a Marine, I was a Boy Scout. ‘Be Prepared’ was our motto." He swung his ass as an invitation.
I stepped behind him and ground my groin against him. He pressed back against my hardness, then reached behind him to feel the hardness in my jeans. "Mmmmmm… feels like you’re ready for something too."
"How much do you want that beer?" I whispered in his ear.
His fingers deftly manipulated the buttons of my fly and his hand snaked into my left pant-leg to surround my stiff shaft. "I’ll take one of these instead," he murmured. "Where?" he said, turning toward me.
"Up there," I said as I pointed up to the balcony where I had been standing. "There’s a secluded corner near the starfish pool. Go there and I’ll meet you in five minutes." He smiled, nodded, and headed for the stairway. I went to find Ben. He was still with the Marines.
"Bingo," I whispered in his ear. "Keep ‘em busy. I’m gonna score the blonde fucker. I’ll see you later." He acknowledged with a nod and continued talking with the group. "I owe you," I whispered as I left.
He was leaning against the wall, one foot flat on the floor, with the other knee bent and his foot planted toe-against-the-floor. The slenderness of his waist was striking; the stiff rod in his pouch was peeking out above the tight, elastic waist-band. With his head cast down, he was looking up at me with those "fuck-me" blue eyes. "What took you so long?"
I reached for his wrist, pulled him away from the wall, and then did an under-arm turn, spinning him face-first against the wall. Stepping forward, I trapped him there with my body… one knee spreading his thighs from behind. Only then did I notice that another couple were fucking to our right… and a tall guy in a football jersey was getting a blow-job from a twink on his knees on our left. "I’m gonna give it to you right here," I hissed into his ear. "But I’m gonna finish it where your buddies can see it." He stiffened and tried to push away from the wall, but I held him there. "Doug will kill me," he said, cheek against the wall. "He’s very jealous."
"Then he should keep better track of his property," I said. "Hot boys wander off at parties like this all the time. And it’s why you’re here, isn’t it?"
"Yes."
I unbuttoned the top button of my fly and the jeans sprung open and sagged onto my hips. My cock was gripped tightly by the faded denim, so I had to extract it with my fist. I slipped the rubber on one-handed, using the other to slip up under his tee-shirt to feel those hard abs. The straps of his jock would not be in-the-way, so I left his cock confined. I gave my cock a few quick jerks to flare the tip…and then I slipped it up and down his crack as he whimpered.
"Give it to me hard. I can take it."
I spread his feet with mine, opening him wider. He pressed his palms against the wall to brace himself. I pulled my jeans to mid-thigh. With my chest against his back, I pulled my pelvis back far enough to straighten my shaft and plant it in him. I jiggled it a bit to coat it with his lube, then put my hands on his hips.
"Semper Fi," I said once again as I pistoned into him with one lunge. The first few inches slipped in unimpeded, but I heard him gasp as he tightened onto me like a vice.
"God, I love it," he moaned. "Fuck me!" He relaxed again, and I shoved in a few more inches. "Aaahhhh… that’s enough."
"That’s what YOU think," I whispered. "There’s still more."
"God, you’re bigger than I thought. I’ll try." He relaxed again, briefly, and I pressed into him again almost full depth. I felt his entire body shudder as my cock straightened one of the curves in his rectum. I started to pull out and felt him grip me.
"More," he gasped. "…more."
I started the in-and-out fucking motion then… in hard, with an upward thrust at the end to lift him onto his toes… then a slow withdrawal as he settled back down onto his feet. My chest slid up and down against his shoulders… my thighs pressed against the backs of his… my balls slapped the edges of his crack on the in-thrust… my breath roared in his ear. I could hear his pelvis slap the wall with each onslaught. He grunted each time I entered him.
Gripping each of his wrists, I stretched his arms up and out, spread-eagled against the wall, as my pelvis continued to pivot up into him. His head lolled back in total abandon, rocking against my shoulder.
A group had gathered behind us to watch. Someone even had the guts to slap my ass in-time with my fucking, as if to urge me on.
"I’m gonna shoot," he moaned.
"Oh, no you’re not. Not until I say so," I said. "Let’s show your buddies what a good time you’re having."
I pulled out of him so quickly, he gasped at the feeling of emptiness. Guiding him with a hand on each shoulder, I pulled him away from the wall, then shoved him through the crowd toward the couch near the railing. As we arrived, I gripped the fabric of his shirt and lifted it, stripping it off of him in one pull. Even before his arms lowered, I gripped him around the chest and pressed him downward onto his knees on the couch. His elbows rested on the back as he pressed back against me. I stripped off my already-damp tanktop and tossed it onto the couch cushion.
"Fuck me more," he said. "Fuck me, fuck, me, fuck me…"
I wrapped my right arm around his neck as I whispered in his ear, "Hot and tight… just like I like it… take it… take it…" He twisted his head; his mouth sought mine as we attempted to join lips in an impossible position.
One of the spotlights hit us at that moment… it moved on… but quickly returned. Someone had seen us and positioned a manually-operated light to illuminate us with a cold white circle. Heads turned… eyes fixed… mouths opened… I heard a gasp from below… and then the rhythmic chant of "Fuck… fuck… fuck…" as I drove into him harder with each stroke. So there would be no mistaking who was receiving my attention, I slipped both arms beneath his pits, then lifted my forearms and clasped them behind his neck, immobilizing his arms up-and-out in a position of utter submission. I arched his back against me as I drove up into him with my final thrusts. The murmurs had become a roar… and the roar had been joined by rhythmic clapping in-time with the music. They were all with me, at that moment, fucking the jock-boy vicariously. The climax, that was coming, was for them all. More than a few were stroking themselves in-rhythm.
I lifted him… stretching him… finding more ass to fuck with each lunge… skewering him on a flesh-pole.
The explosion started deep within me… that sudden feeling of tightness and then release as the fluid gushes along its twisted path to the surface… muscles contracting to speed it… muscles contracting elsewhere to stop all motion so that all attention can be focused on that split-second of ultimate release.
The crowd knew it. The clapping stopped. Motion stopped. Time stopped.
I exploded into him as his shout echoed over the continuing music. The crowd roared their approval. Hands patted me from behind. Upturned faces from below wished that they were next.
The next few minutes were a blur. G.I. Joe arrived to retrieve his boy… and Ben was there to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me to prevent a fight. The crowd of well-wishers swelled. "Best fuck I've ever seen here," said one veteran. "Awesome!" said another.
"I'm outa here," I said to Ben. "I got what I came for… too early, maybe."
He laughed. "After that, you'd have 'em standing in-line," he joked. "Now you're not only a legend in Pittsburgh, you're an international celebrity!"
"I said 'I owe you'… and I meant it," I continued. "Let me buy you dinner… Sunday night… the restaurant in my hotel… The Blue Door. Nine o'clock?"
"Sure," he said, "but you…"
"It's a deal." I interrupted, making sure that I did NOT say 'It's a date.'
I strode away through the crowd, still getting back-slaps and congratulations… and I took the water taxi back to the headquarters hotel.
=====
The air was still warm even thought it was after 11. I decided to walk back to the Delano along the dark beach. On warm nights in Pittsburgh, the rivers didn't smell quite as nice as the ocean spray. I slipped off my tanktop and tucked it into the top of my jeans at-the-hip. And I slipped out of my shoes and socks to let the surf swirl around my ankles. The lights from the row of hotels barely managed to reach the water's edge. In the darkness, I stroked the warmth of my own chest with my fingers… remembering the boy's lips on my shoulder. In my solitude, I had not noticed the figure hurtling toward me through the darkness. He passed me only six feet away and I caught a glimpse of his profile.
"Armando? Armando…" I had remembered his name.
The figure halted in the darkness and reversed direction.
"Si," he said. "Aaah… Brian… from last night. It is hard to see in the darkness. My mind was on other things."
In the dim light I could see that he was wearing only running shorts of undetermined color… slit up the side to the waistband, because they flapped in the breeze. "You are alone?" he continued.
"Yes… headed back to the hotel. I went to one of the parties…" I paused as he stepped toward me, just inches away. I swore I could feel the heat of his body irradiating my chest.
His hand touched my shoulder and slowly glided down my upper arm. "So beautiful…" he said.
"I didn't know you could speak English," I said. "You didn't say much last night."
His teeth, exposed by a wide smile, were visible against the darkness of his shadowed skin. "No need to say much…" he said. "Luis, he does most of the talking."
"I seem to remember keeping your mouth busy doing other things," I murmured. He was closer… his cheek against mine as his hands explored my body. I tossed my shoes and socks onto dry sand and returned the favor.
"Like this," he said. His hand guided my cheek, turning my lips to meet his. We kissed as his other hand slid along my hip and over my denim-covered cock. I slipped my hand into the waistband of his shorts and found what I remembered.
"Come… let me show you what we do in Cuba," he murmured. "Leave your pants here… next to mine." He shoved his thumbs into the waistband of his running shorts and slipped them off his non-existent hips. He bent to retrieve them at his ankles and tossed them a few feet above the water-line.
"Here? On the beach?" I said. "Won't the police…?"
"They're strict here," he said… "they drive their Jeep along the hard sand… but if we go into the water, they won't see us easily. They usually look in the dry sand… for people on blankets… or in the bushes… or under the lifeguard stations…" He spoke from experience, apparently.
"We could go back to the hotel," I said, realizing he had just come from there… and that Luis might still be there.
"Please…" He said. "Here." He opened the top button of my jeans… then quickly undid the rest. He pushed them open… and my tanktop slipped into the water with a soft splash. I retrieved it, soaking-wet, and tossed it after my shoes, knowing it would be a sandy mess when I retrieved it. I stepped out of my jeans as another wave swept in to soak more than just the bottom cuffs of my pants. I tossed them farther up the sloping sand.
As I straightened-up, he was there to caress me again… guiding me into the surf… a hand in the small of my back propelling me into deepening water that might swallow me up. As the waves caressed the tops of my thighs, we stopped.
"Right here… if someone comes, the water is deep enough for us to sink down almost out-of-sight." He sank down to show me… and took my hard cock into his lips. As the waves lifted and caressed my balls, his mouth moved over my shaft… licking and kissing. I fingered his wavy hair, remembering its dark sheen. His silhouette against the glittering reflection of the skyline in the water before me was almost surreal and unrecognizable… arms, shoulders, and head… bobbing in the undulating water. "You have cum tonight… I can taste it… so nice." His lips returned to my cock… surrounding it… sliding down its length. He lifted his eyes to look up at me… a look of submissive adoration that always aroused me. He continued his excellent mouth- and tongue-work for several minutes while I fought to maintain my balance.
"My turn," I said, finally, pulling him upward by the hair. "I've been thinking about this since last night." He stood… water clung to his body like a shirt of jewels. I dropped slowly to my knees in the water feeling it engulf me as his lips had engulfed my cock. With both hands on the backs of his thighs, I pulled myself close to him and took the tip of his dick into my lips… slowly at first… but as I felt his urgency, I tried to take it more quickly. I had remembered its size. Fuck… I had memorized its size… I had thought of nothing but its size since last night. I had to have it. He pulled back, not wanting to choke me. I crawled one step forward on my knees into deeper water that lapped my chin. I found his shaft again and sucked it rapidly, tasting the saltiness of the sea-water. My hands gripped his ass now… pulling him into me. Perhaps I could never take it all, but I simply had to TRY. My jaw ached from being spread so wide… my tongue couldn't decide where to go to make more room… I gulped and swallowed on it, milking it with my throat muscles as I felt his pubes brush my nose. God, I had wanted this. And now I wanted more.
I sucked him as best I could… but knowing that anyone would have trouble with "El Gordo." He stroked my head in encouragement and cupped the back of my head in his palms as he rocked slowly back and forth… slow-fucking my throat.
He stopped. I paused, not knowing what to do. He pushed me off his cock and lifted me to a standing position again.
"I want you," he said… and he knew that I wanted it too.
"I'm not sure I can take all of you," I answered.
"That's OK… few can," he replied… "but I want to be inside you, even a little."
"With a condom," I said… "Only with protection."
He shrugged. "I have nothing," he said disappointedly.
"Hold on," I said. "I have some… definitely not your size…" I was striding through the deep water to the beach… "but they stretch like crazy…" I had reached my pants and I was fumbling for the pocket… "I saw one, once, stretched over two fists…" biting the package to open it… striding back into the water again… "but not this brand… let's see what happens." Spitting out the foil and discarding the wrapper… I gripped his cock like it was my own and felt for the tip in the darkness. Perhaps the salt-water helped. The condom stretched… and stretched some more… over part of his shaft… enough for protection, as long as it didn't split. I stopped thrashing around in the water and stood facing him silently.
"You're sure?" he said, stepping forward. "No lube here."
"I'll try."
He took me in his arms and slowly turned me. I could feel the tip of his shaft pressed against the middle of my back. Fully hard, it could almost reach his sternum. Being in the water added some buoyancy… he gripped me under the armpits and lifted me enough that his cock slipped between my thighs. My feet gripped his ankles to steady myself. I settled down onto him, feeling his rigidity part my thighs and enter my perineum. I reached back to guide it… pulling it rearward to lodge in my external sphincter. He paused as he felt it enter. I arched my back against him… wanting it inside me… wanting him to drive it in deep… wanting to be filled… and stretched… and hurt by its monstrous size. I wanted to be fucked more than anything at that moment… the feeling of fullness, the feeling of being used, the combination of pain and pleasure that penetration brings.
"Do it," I rasped.
He released his grip under my armpits and I sank slowly, driven by gravity, to surround his upward thrusting phallus. His arms re-gripped me tightly around the waist and forced me downward harder. I struggled, kicking my legs, but the water prevented rapid motion. Water isn't much of a lubricant; the sting of the salt burned like a red-hot poker sinking into quivering flesh. I inhaled to shout, involuntarily… and one of his hands slapped over my mouth, stifling my cry. "Ningún ruido. ¡Sea callado!" he hissed. I felt myself being transformed into a sheath for his monster… sliding inexorably downward… muscles and tissue stretched to their limits… and beyond. The feeling of losing control… what I longed for.
"You want it…" he whispered in my ear. "Take all you can… Tómelo. ¡Tome más!"
Suddenly the panic took over… the feeling of being beyond the edge… of floating in the abyss… of stepping off the cliff. My body became rigid as his cock continued to slide into me millimeter by millimeter. "Fuck me," I moaned. "It's been so long…"
My own cock lifted from the water and slapped my belly… like the tumescence of a young schoolboy ready to fuck anything that moved. The steel-hard erection of my youth… like iron encased in satin. The night sky exploded with stars… then the stars merged into incredible whiteness burning the backs of my retinas. The scarfing-response… the closeness to dying… the edge of unconsciousness. I jerked my head from side to side to force myself back to reality. The reality of being stuffed with cock… deeper… wider… more rigid than ever before. My body belonged to him. I was an extension of his body… of his pelvis… an adornment for his symbol of prowess.
He fucked me like a limp boy… using me for his own pleasure… sending me beyond consciousness to super-consciousness. I gave myself up to the pleasure. His hands rubbed my torso from neck to thighs as my full weight rested on his shaft. It throbbed inside me as he pumped his knees, bouncing me on his penetrating column; my ass gripped the stretched latex and tight skin beneath. His mushroom head raked back and forth along a few inches of my deep interior pumping sea water into me like the plunger of a pump. He stepped again into deeper water to add to my buoyancy so that he could lengthen his stroke. I moaned again, suddenly realized there was more cock to take. The water lapped my chest like cold tongues. Then he gripped my throat with the palm of his strong right hand and forced my head up and back against his. I swallowed instinctively against the pressure and gasped for a last breath. His forearm across my shoulder pressed my back against his warm chest. I felt his intrusions becoming more violent… more needy… more demanding. "Fuck me," I repeated. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…."
He came then, noisily and violently… his primitive cry in my ear followed by unintelligible Spanish. "¡Jódalo! … Llenarlo con semen caliente… ¡El dios! ¡Amo esto!" He squeezed my waist hard as if to keep the cum inside his body, but I could feel it gushing into the inadequate well at the condom's tip. We shuddered simultaneously as I reached back to stroke his hair and face. The sea boiled around us as a large wave almost covered us… lifting us momentarily, and then dropping us on the sandy bottom again as his cock slipped in another impossible inch. I shot then, with no further stimulation… adding my seed to the foam that swirled past us going out to sea.
He stood with legs firmly planted, afraid to move. My legs were limp and my toes swirled against loose sand. "Yo lo amo," he whispered in my ear, "Amo su como….caliente el dulce. Deme más!" He kissed the back of my neck and along the ridge of my shoulder as he held me. Then he lifted me once more. I felt the cool ocean water rush into my anus as his cock departed. Only the chill and the emptiness were left. We walked slowly into the shallower water, wishing it could have continued. The air was still warm.
"Let me dry you," he said. Neither of us had a towel, so he made a vain attempt to dry my back with his shorts. Then I turned and we stood facing each other, still dripping.
"Take me with you," he said.
"To my hotel?" I asked, wondering why we hadn't gone there earlier.
"No," he said. "I mean… away from here… from Miami."
"You want to leave Luis? And your job? And the beach?"
"Those are OK," he said, stepping closer to me. "It is the other shit… when I go home… the things they make me do…"
If I asked for more information, I would be leading him on. "I can't," I said. "I can give you some money…"
"Money for sex… always the same," he said, shaking his head. "Quiero más." He released me and turned to leave. In silhouette, I saw him put on the running shorts. "Es siempre el mismo," he said, choking on his words as he sprinted in the direction he had been going.
I watched until I couldn't see him any more… his elongated shadow in the glimmering surf… then nothing. I bent down to retrieve my clothing and when I stood again, I was as alone as I had been initially on this empty beach. The burning sensation in my ass and my damp nudity reminded me of what had just happened. I walked again toward the Delano, stopping once to put on my jeans.
It is lonesome at the top of the food chain. Polar bears eat alone. "King of the Hill" … "Demigod"… what was it Ben called me?… "a Legend." Or the less flattering descriptions… "Heartless Bastard"… "Uncaring Asshole"… "Selfish Loner." Maintaining the image and the legend was a demanding job sometimes. And it was good to get away from Pittsburgh… where I could lower the heavy façade and be a nameless stranger in the crowd… to know that the looks of admiration were based on the present, not on some past story of prowess. But the façade kept away the professions of love… the expectations… the demands… the needs. You can't have it both ways; you can't keep people at arm's-length and still hug them for support. In the end, you, yourself, are all you can depend upon… the rest just nourish the hunger.
The lights of the Delano loomed in the distance. To sleep alone tonight suddenly seemed like a good idea. I would sleep.
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