Head 01 Hot Head (14 page)

climbing, past his bunched crotch, past the open-toggled jacket, up the suspenders stretched over the length of his torso. His nipples were hard under the white Tshirt.

Once the picture on his laptop reached the stubbled throat, Griff was as impatient as Dante was.

Dante spread his legs wider, tilting his crotch toward the camera as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes I get so horny I have to get off three or four times a day. Ya know? Even when I’m fucking chicks regular, I gotta beat the bone just to take the edge off, so I don’t squirt in my shorts riding in the rig.” The ridge under his bunker pants was harder now, lifting away from his thigh. He ran a hand over the curved length.

“Ungh.” Alek groaned. Even hidden out of view, his breathing shifted and his arousal was palpable. He let the camera linger and travel more slowly, savoring

Dante’s uniformed body reclining there on that plush leather. “So… uh… Monte, you’re a firefighter?”

“Find ’em hot and leave ’em wet. Greatest job on earth. I pul people out of burning buildings. I get into fights and win. And I got hot and cold running sex on tap at any joint in New York.”
Noo Yawk
was how it sounded ’cause he was exaggerating the accent.

“Wel, that makes you a hero, yes? But what do you think makes you a HotHead?” Alek crouched, getting closer to Dante’s spread thighs, shooting up so he

loomed onscreen.

Suddenly, Dante stood up right over the camera, forcing it to tilt back. “’Cause I’m a crazy son of a bitch with a sick bod.” His basket bulged right in the

center of the screen, but only the lower half of his face was visible at this angle. Cleft chin, square jaw. “’Cause in Truth or Dare I always pick dare.” Towering above Alek, he shrugged out of his heavy jacket, slowly revealing the long-sleeved undershirt, emphasizing his words. “Because I don’t have a good time, I am a good time. Why the fuck else would I be here?”

–
Plunk
–

The bunker jacket fel to the carpet off camera. Alek scooted backward with the camera so Dante fit onscreen from his thick boots to his tousled hair,

towering over everyone watching him. If nothing else, he was a natural-born tease.

Griff’s pulse was thunder in his ears, his breathing deep and ragged. He wiped his mouth, keeping his gray eyes glued to his best friend.

“When fires blaze, my arm is raised.” Dante ran thumbs under the red suspenders, puling them off his shoulders to hang against his legs. “Can I take some

more off?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He arched and puled the white shirt free of his olive skin, tossing it toward the jacket on the floor. His bronze nipples were tiny and hard, but he pinched them anyway and smiled at the lens. He ran one hand from a nipple across the T of crisp, black chest hair and down to where it narrowed into a sleek treasure trail leading straight under his waistband. His caloused hand kept pushing right under the turnout pants, into his basket, and scratched, hard enough that it was audible on camera:
scritch-scritch-scritch. Thwap.
In his basement room, Griff’s stiffness slapped his bely, pulsing with his heartbeat. Look at that. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d gotten. He groaned.
Nice
.

Alek obviously agreed. “That’s nice.”

Dante undid the button of his pants and tugged at the zipper.

Alek stepped back again. “Can you turn around first?”

Dante looked confused for a second. “You don’t want me to… oh!” He turned slowly to face the chair. “What do you want me to do?”

“Now flex.”

Dante brought his biceps up to give double guns, and the lean muscle jumped under his skin. There was a long shiny-pink burn on one shoulder, which only

made the olive of his skin look more exotic. After a few seconds, Dante relaxed and dropped his hands to the back of his bunker pants, pushing them down a bit so that a hint of his crack showed.

Griff sighed. Against the rusty hair on his bely, his club of a cock had spun a strand of precum. He reached under his bals to rol them gently, lift them clear of his thick thighs. Another bead of fluid appeared at the head. He rubbed his thumb over it and brought it to his mouth.
Sweet
. He angled the laptop screen so he could get lower.

“Do you have something to show us, Monte?” Alek lowered the camera to focus on Dante’s asscheeks as the pants were nudged down slowly, revealing the

hard, rounded perfection of his backside.

Help.

“Kidding? I got so much to show, man.” Dante looked back over his shoulder in profile and pumped his hips a little, fucking the air and inching his trousers

stil lower.

Griff realized he was holding his breath.

“We want everything you’l give us.” The camera was jostled as Alek reached down to do something—like adjust his wood, obviously.

Alek’s lens backed away as the descending pants revealed more of Dante’s lower half, until the trousers were scrunched down around his boots, limiting his

movement. The hair on his legs only came partway up—soft, sooty hairs dusting him from mid-thigh down—and his ass and his upper legs were smooth and cut;

nothing fuzzed the lines of muscle. Almost like he was wearing a permanent pair of pants that stayed tugged down.

Griff had never noticed that before. But then, he didn’t let himself hang around Dante bare-assed these days. Since he started having these feelings. Too

fucking risky. But God, he was grateful to Alek for educating him. He’d never be able to see Dante without thinking of those light hairs starting halfway down.

“You make yourself comfortable.” Alek sounded as horny as Griff felt.

Behind his camera, Alek must’ve signaled, because Dante turned around with his boner bobbing in front of him. Then he realized that he was on display and

squeezed the meat hard, making the veins bulge where it extended beyond his fist. Dante’s shaft was exactly the same dark pink of his lips: medium-rare. It was long and curved and hooked to the left in a jaunty way that seemed to guarantee wicked pleasure for al involved.

Griff’s meat was a lager can; this was… perfection.

The camera dropped to Dante’s groin. Alek crouched or knelt, folowing that treasure trail down so that the entire screen was filed with the springy pubes,

the brick-brown bals hanging loose in the wrinkled sack and the meaty curve of succulent hardness between them wrapped firmly in Dante’s fist.

The camera dropped lower, until it was clear that Alek was nearly on his back on the floor so he could aim up. Dante’s feet were stil caught in the pants and

boots, so he had to squat to let his bals hang loose. His legs were spread slightly, revealing the firm ridge between his nuts and his anus, and the plump curve of his buttocks was just visible in back. Dante was tugging on his nuts, hard, stretching them in the skin.

“Rough, huh?” Alek zoomed up from directly underneath, a worm’s-eye view of Dante’s crotch. He rose off the floor until the lens was ful of Dante’s fat

orbs squeezed down under his fist.

Dante ran the other hand along his inner thigh, then under to pet the light hairs that dipped into his crack. “Bals? Yeah. I like ’em to ache a little. When they get mashed some. Ungh.” He squeezed them hard with his caloused hand, making the bulge shine under the lights. His stiffness arched above.

For the first time since Griff had started watching on his bed, he wrapped his hand around his own fat cannon. He didn’t tug it, just squeezed it gently and

slowly. Otherwise, he knew he’d pop too quick and start to hate himself before he’d had a chance to see the whole thing.
This
was what he had wanted to find in that bar earlier. Only it was here on his laptop and lived under his best friend’s roof.

Alek puled back and let the camera pan up Dante from the floor to show the ful, flushed length of his body. He was starting to sweat.

“It’s weird to spank my crank in my turnout gear, huh?” Dante looked down at the pants bunched at his boots, the stiff reflective stripes tangled. He tugged

absently at his hard-on, like he’d forgotten what he was doing.

Alek snorted a laugh. “Surely you’ve done it before, at the firehouse.” He edged around for a side-view of Dante and his cock. “Firemen are, after al, men.”

“Nah. I mean, I’ve banged girls in the bunker gear, ’cause they dig it. Quickies. But if I’m jerking off in the station, I’m in the john or alone in the shower.”

Dante answered unselfconsciously, puling lightly on his circumcised rod.

Griff had to let go of his uncut meat as he imagined Dante busting his nut at the station. How was he ever going to get to sleep again?

“Oh. I imagine you’ve seen a felow fireman jerking off and joined him, in the shower or watching a porno together.” Alek came around to the front of the

chair again and stepped toward Dante. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Dante stepped back, bumping into the chair. He put his ass on the black leather, grinning guiltily. “Uh. Maybe. I mean. Once or twice. It’s just guys and

we’re al buddies. We’ve had strippers for bachelor parties and things and, you know… sure. I done a few things.”

The words gave Griff gooseflesh and his breath caught. Was that the truth or just porno bulshit?

“I imagine our members would pay a fortune to be flies on those wals. Firemen helping each other with the hoses and poles.”

Griff breathed out. Porno bulshit. Al that baloney was “Monte” talking for his new fans. Dante wasn’t jerking off with anyone in 181. Wishful thinking. Griff

was no different from al the guys who were fantasizing about fireman gangbangs on HotHead right now, except he only needed this one guy. They could have al

the fake porno firemen.

Now Dante was naked in the black leather chair, and his ruddyshaft was wet at the tip. He toed off the sturdy boots and kicked free of the pants. “There! I

shoulda been a nudist.”

Alek chortled. “Never too late to change careers.”

Dante hooked one leg over the arm of the chair and started whacking his meat for real. His big bals bounced under the shaft. Dante’s dick was hard enough

that it was shiny and the veins stood out. “You got something slick? Lotion or something?”

“Of course.” Alec stepped close and his hand reached into frame to offer Dante a silver bottle. His thumb flicked open the cap with a
snick
. “Would you like me to squeeze some out for you?”

Griff grunted and nodded.

Dante nodded and grunted. “A lot please. Yeah. My dick’s cut, so I like it real wet. To make it slide easy.”

Griff licked his hand in his bedroom.

From overhead, Alec’s hand dribbled a stream of clear lube onto Dante’s rod, the slippery ribbon folding and spreading as soon as it hit his hot, plum-glossy

glans.

“I used to wish I was uncut. Growing up, a lot of guys were and I felt weird.”

On his bed, Griff tried to think of someone Dante knew who was uncircumcised other than, wel, him.

Dante was jealous of my cock?

“That’s it. That’s it. A little more. Yeah.” Dante’s hand kneaded his meat lovingly.

Alek squeezed out another clear ribbon and stepped back again, hesitating a little as he realized that Dante wasn’t done with the thought.

“When you’re uncut, you can slide inside the skin—”

How does he know that?

“—but I’m cut pretty tight. I think that’s why I got the curve.” Dante squeezed his arched erection, stil smoothing al that lube into his medium-rare hard-on, some of it running into his pubes and down behind his bals. He looked down at the vicinity of Alek’s off-screen crotch. “Hey! You got a stiffie too.”

“Of course,” Alek mumbled. His smile was audible. “You are very handsome.”

Alek’s about to try something!

Even in the darkened bedroom, fist ful of his own fatty, Griff could tel how close Alek was to crossing the line. He knew al about that kind of impossible

lust. Even with the Russian hidden from view, anyone could tel that he wanted to touch Dante badly enough to blow off the filming. Any second now Alek was

going to drop the camera and deep throat Dante’s beautiful curved shaft until those ful nuts had emptied into him.

Worse, Griff could tel that Dante knew too, that he was teasing the Russian on purpose, playing for attention and hoping for a bonus. It didn’t dul the

horniness, and in a strange, jealous way Griff found himself hoping that Alek would do it because he was so close and it was so possible and they both wanted

Dante so badly.

Dante’s boner slipped through his over-lubed fist with a crackling sound as he milked it with patient affection. One plump vein wrapped up the side and then

branched midway. The head got darker with each stroke, its ridge standing in sharp relief. Every few strokes Dante cupped his hand and sort of polished it.

Griff tried to imitate the stroke and almost yelped at the sensation, tugging his foreskin forward protectively for a moment. His own cockhead was intensely

sensitive. Maybe because he was uncut, that much direct friction was almost painful. His whole life he’d wished he was circumcised, but he’d never thought about the practical differences.

Looking at Dante’s perfect cut erection, he realized how differently Dante could use his shaft, how rough he could be, how much harder and longer he could

fuck. Cautiously Griff started stroking again, careful to let his dick slip inside the skin. His erection loomed in front of his laptop screen and Dante’s face.

So strange
.

On the other side of Griff’s boner, Dante joked toward the camera. “Maybe I could bring a buddy in some time. You know?”

Griff’s hand froze.
The fuck did he say
? For a second, he felt like Dante was talking to his penis. That was how it looked to him anyways. His meat bobbed and leaked to one side of Dante’s bulshit grin.

On the laptop Dante plowed ahead. “I got a buddy at the station. Hel, he’s way hotter than me.” Dante’s hand twisted around the curved shaft hypnoticaly.

“For real.”

What fucking buddy? Or was this more porno bulshit?