SEVEN HITS! Get Your Ass Ready! (14 page)

Tyler shouted. “Fuck! Ah shit!”

The voices in the hall suddenly died for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Hell yeah, man,” he heard one say. Jake was bracing himself with one hand on Tyler’s shoulder to keep him from bouncing off his cock from each powerful thrust, the other hand on the back of Tyler’s head, smashing his face into the bed. Even so, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the feet in the doorway – two feet, four, six…

He barely had time to look up before another cock was in his mouth, both ends now taking it hard and fast. There was a crowd in the room now…no, a gang, he thought, a fucking gang bang crew. The temperature was rising as the press of bodies grew, the fast hard breathing of excited men filling the room with heat.

“Gimme
that,” one said, pushing another out of the way. He could see them at the foot of the bed, three, four, more guys, naked and stroking their cocks, waiting for their turn, or not waiting, pressing, fighting to get in there.

“Aww, fuckin’ A,” he heard Jake growl behind him, as he picked up speed, fucking harder, faster. Tyler didn’t know if he could stand it – skinny guys really were the best fuckers, they never wore out, never got tired like bigger dudes who ran out of gas trying to keep all that weight in motion. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more pounding, Jake roared. “Sheeeeeit!” And Tyler felt Jake’s dick pulsing, pumping, inflating his guts full of cum.

Then he heard his own voice coming out of the TV on the wall.

“I’m getting hot, can I take my shirt off?”

“You sure can,” Nick said. “So you know what’s coming?”

“No, No idea.”

He would have laughed if his mouth hadn’t been full of cock. “60 Cocks” was playing on the TV. Guys could watch him on the monitor, then turn around and see him there on the bed, taking dick for all he was worth.

Tyler greedily grabbed each man, each cock in turn, the end of his long drought coming in a flash flood of manflesh. All his pure physical frustration was done, the dam busted, and
yet…and yet, even as Jake rolled off and another man took his place, all he could think about was Nick, as Nick’s voice filled him, ruled him, more than any, all of these guys could.

“This is called ‘Sixty Cocks in Sixty Minutes.’ Sixty lucky guys tonight are going to get one minute each for you to suck their cocks.”

“Holy crap.”

Nick’s laughter
. “You up for it?”

“Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

Are you watching, Nick? Tyler asked the mirror with his eyes, knowing there was a camera behind it. Are you there, right there? Are you coming out here?

Cock after cock rammed his throat, his ass, and he surrendered, reveled in it, gasped for breath and begged for more. But all the time it was Nick’s voice on the TV, Nick cajoling, encouraging him to keep working, telling him to move around, that was the ultimate intoxicant. And Mark Blackbeard must have known that, he thought, must have known what it would take to get me to do this, to keep doing this, beyond the point where I was exhausted, worn out, used up. For Nick…

Finally the tide of men was receding, load after load shot in his face, his ass, his body, the bed, drenched in sweat and spit and cum and lube. Finally he was left alone on the bed, gasping for breath.

He heard the men showering, chatting, making plans to have a drink, just another day at the office… He couldn’t move, he was so tired.

The sounds diminished. He slurped as greedily at the bottled water as he had at the cocks, some nearly as big as the bottle. Then he saw a figure in the doorway.

“Nick,” he whispered. Nick was standing there, watching him, eyes hooded like a cobra’s. “What did you think?”

“What do you think I think,” he whispered, in a broken voice.

“I think you like to watch,” Tyler said, rubbing his chest, his cock, his ass. “I know you like to watch.”

“I saw your eyes,” Nick said. “When the movie came on. You…changed.”

“Yeah? What changed?” Tyler asked, knowing the answer, wanting to hear it from Nick.

“You were…”

“Don’t be shy. From then on, I was thinking about you. Hearing your voice, directing me, seducing me. Did I like getting gang banged? Hell yeah, I liked it. But…from that moment on, all those guys? All they were to me were the vegetables I had to eat to get to you for dessert.”

Nick burst out laughing, the tension broken. “You don’t like vegetables?”

“You’ll have to cook me some to show me why I should.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. I will.”

“So…” Tyler said. “You coming in?”

“No,” Nick said, but before Tyler’s face could fall any further, he said. “No, get dressed. You owe me dinner and a bottle of wine, remember. Then…we’re going home.”

“Just you and me? No cameras?”

Nick’s lopsided grin returned. “Well, I don’t know about
that
…”

Dark Bar was mobbed as usual on a Friday night. Tyler loved the crush of hard bodies as he squeezed himself through them on his way to the bar. His bare torso slipped across other bare torsos, or old t-shirts, or slick leather jackets whose zippers and buttons nipped and scratched at his skin. Hands were everywhere, like centipede legs pushing and pulling at him as he inched through the crowd, some grabbing at his cock but mostly reaching for his ass.

His now famous ass, he smiled to himself, as the bartender dropped what he was doing to serve him. “Two
Stellas
?” he asked Tyler, who nodded. He wished he could remember the bartender’s name…he just called him “37” now, since he’d been number 37 in line when Tyler had starred in “60 Cocks in 60 Minutes” right here in Dark Bar’s bathroom.

“On me,” 37 said with a wink.

“No, on me – any time you like,” Tyler responded, getting a laugh. He dropped the fiver on the bar as a tip and worked his way back to Nick.

He grinned from ear to ear as guys looked at him and did a double take, realizing they knew him from somewhere, and then realizing where. Some of them smiled, nodded knowingly. Hell, some of them had probably gang-banged him in “Pirate Island Hotel,” his last movie for Pirate Island Studios.

A finger caught him through a belt loop, and he turned and found himself lip-locked with a skinny punk rock dude, who put Tyler’s hand on his crotch to make Tyler feel his monster cock.

“Nice,” Tyler said. “You should audition for Pirate Island.” He had a handful of Mark Blackbeard’s cards in his pocket now. Mark trusted him to know who would make good PI material. He handed one to this guy.

“Thanks, but I don’t see your number on here,” he said with a cockeyed grin.

Tyler laughed. “I’m unlisted.” He gave the big bulge one last caress before moving on, feeling it get rock hard in wow, like two seconds. How flattering was that!

His smile faded as he got closer to Nick. Nick wasn’t…scowling, no, he was too cool for that. But he wasn’t meeting Tyler’s eyes, and his face was the face of a guy who just got bad news. The bill of his Giants cap was down, shadowing his features. That was the reason most dudes love wearing ball caps, Tyler thought, to keep their feelings hidden, to prevent eye contact when they don’t want eye contact. When Tyler handed him his beer, Nick nodded, his eyes dark.

Tyler was getting to know his boyfriend, yeah, that was what Nick was now, getting to know him a little better every day. And he knew what Nick was thinking. It usually turned him on to see Tyler adored, to see him worshipped and desired by other guys, but…he wasn’t enjoying this.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asked him, putting an arm through Nick’s as they sat on the bench built into the wall.

Nick shrugged off his mood and took a big swig of beer, left handed so as not to break Tyler’s embrace. “Yeah, man. No worries.”

“Liar,” Tyler smiled. “Spill it.”

Nick smiled too, at last. “You got a read on me now?”

“Don’t I, though? What’s up. You’re…not jealous, are you?”

Nick’s eyes were distant, as if he didn’t want to think about feelings like that, about what they meant about himself. That he was in love with Tyler, sure, but that he was one of
those
guys, the possessive insecure types?

His eyes widened as Tyler unhooked his arm, got up, and pushed his way back to the bar, not stopping for anyone or anything. He said something to the bartender, who looked at Nick and laughed.

Nick was steaming now. The fuck is that?

Tyler pushed his way back through the crowd, his arms over his head with a triple shot of Jager in each hand. The whole time, his eyes never left Nick. He wriggled and twisted out of every
assgrabber’s grasp, until he was face to face with Nick.

He handed Nick the shot. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Nick said, puzzled and wondering what was going on. They both knocked back their shots and the bartender dimmed the lights even dimmer than they already were. A few whoops went up, the music suddenly got louder, and Tyler dropped to his knees in front of Nick.

He looked up adoringly at his boyfriend. “Just us two now,” he said, unbuttoning and unzipping Nick’s trademark cargo shorts. He reached in and pulled out Nick’s long, fat cock for all to see. The crowd closed in around them, hands reaching for Tyler, and he looked up at Nick as he swatted them away.

Then Tyler’s lips were on Nick’s already-stiffening dick. Nick closed his eyes, his senses shutting out the whole world outside the tip of his penis. Tyler was concentrating just on the head of his dick, licking it, kissing it, nipping ever so lightly with his teeth on it. Nick pushed his hips forward to thrust his package out, to let Tyler do what he wanted to do – to show the world Nick’s enormous cock, to show them what he had that they didn’t. Then, finally, Tyler adjusted his angle, opened wide, and took it all down his throat.

Nick groaned as the audience sighed, as Kings of Leon pulsed and beat through the speakers – “Super Soaker,” yeah, perfect, Tyler thought – I’m gonna get super soaked tonight!

Tyler held Nick’s cock down deep, his chin grinding on Nick’s pelvis, for what seemed like an eternity. Sometimes Nick thought Tyler could go forever without breathing. He’d had been amazed the first time Tyler had done it, deep
throating
him for almost two minutes without coming up for air.

“I was a competitive swimmer in high school,” Tyler told him. “Now that’s something I learned in school that’s really useful!”

Finally, though, Nick’s dick popped out of Tyler, who let it bounce and snap back against Nick’s hard flat abs.

Both of them were swatting hands away now, till the audience finally got the idea – look, don’t touch. Helping hands started keeping overeager graspers from even trying. They were into it now, protecting the island that was Tyler and Nick.

Nick reached down, caressed Tyler’s face, then gave it the little slap he knew would really get him going. He took his dick in hand and pointed it at Tyler’s open eager mouth as his other hand reached back and forced Tyler’s head down on it. This time, when his cock was fully engulfed, he started thrusting, both hands on the back of Tyler’s head now, fucking it like it was nothing but a
Fleshlight.

Every now and then he’d let Tyler up for air. He reached out and grabbed someone’s beer out of his hand, took a swig, and spit it in Tyler’s face. Shock and delirious pleasure suffused Tyler’s face.

Nick stood up now, putting his abs, his hips, into the thrusts. Tyler’s head was a hole, a tunnel, a cum dumpster. He felt himself edging closer and thought about pulling out and stroking it. But it was like Tyler read his mind, as he reached up and grabbed the base of that cock so it couldn’t get away, never taking his mouth off it.

Nick tore Tyler’s hand off it and gave in, thrusting harder and harder, his prostate stinging, squeezing, his balls getting tighter and tighter. “FUCK!” he shouted as he came down Tyler’s throat, every drop slamming straight into his guts. He pumped and pumped, until finally, his spent dick lost pressure and started to get soft.

Tyler sucked every drop out of him, then finally leaned back with a smile and wiped his mouth. The audience burst into applause.

Nick laughed, pulled Tyler up and kissed him long and hard, tasting Jager, beer and his own cum in his lover’s mouth.

“I get it,” Tyler whispered.

“Get what?”

“You’re jealous.”

Nick nodded, realizing, accepting himself, his nature. He was jealous, possessive. Fuck yeah! He was! So what!

“Let’s go,” Tyler said, and led Nick by the hand through the crowd.

The crowd thinned, but near the door, a pair of hands grabbed Tyler, firmer this time. “Hey, you can’t put on a show like that and not do an encore,” the guy said. He was big and built, brutish looking, mean-eyed in a way that threatened more than rough sex.

Tyler broke free. “Sorry, man, show’s over.”

The man scowled. “Fucking cock tease, that’s what you are.”

Tyler laughed. “That’s right, bitch. I’m a porn star.” He put on his Ewan
MacGregor
as Obi-Wan voice. “Teasing cock is my
spe-ci-al-ity!”

Nick burst out laughing, and they walked out arm in arm.
Yeah
, Nick thought.
I’m in love and I like it.

Back at Nick’s, Tyler slow-stripped for his lover. Nick was splayed out on the bed, his ball cap pulled low but not low enough to impede his line of sight. Tyler watched him appreciatively. His boots, his shorts, his white wife beater, his ball cap, his colorful chef’s tats of various foodstuffs…goddamn, he’s such a fucking
dude
, Tyler thought. I love it.

It was politically incorrect to be turned on by a guy because he totally looked like a straight dude, but so what. Most of the queens who called themselves “straight acting straight appearing” were so fucking starched and pressed and crisp and scented that they were more like mannequins than men. Nick was…messy. Casual. Shaved on random days. Hated shopping. Shouted at ball games on TV. He dressed for comfort and comfort only, and looked fucking great in everything without even trying.