The Perils of Praline (3 page)

Stewart pulled him under the showerhead and kissed him. Their soapy, slippery bodies rubbed together, and Praline, with thoughts of Dave G. still dancing in his head, gave himself to the kiss. With his tongue, Stewart explored Praline’s mouth as though he’d misplaced something in there, something of great sentimental value.

Praline ran his hands across Stewart’s wide shoulders, down his thick arms, slipping them around his waist. It was wonderful to hold a man in his arms, even a man he barely knew. He reached down and took Stewart’s cock in his hands; it was big and hefty, requiring a two-handed approach. He was about to go down on his knees and suck it when Stewart spun him around and pushed him against the tiled wall. He slipped his hand into the soapy crack of Praline’s ass.

“This has to be the most amazing ass I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“It’s just—big,” Praline replied, blushing. Though he appreciated Stewart’s lying about his disproportionate derriere.

“Oh, no, it’s perfect, it’s…” Whatever Stewart said next was lost as he stuck his face between Praline’s ass cheeks.

Stewart’s tongue tickled at Praline’s delicate rosebud, sending shivers through the boy. This went on for quite some time, leaving Praline limp and moaning. Then Stewart slipped his index finger inside and expertly found his prostate. Praline nearly jumped out of his skin. For a few delicious minutes, Stewart rubbed the prostate with a gentle, circular motion
,
causing Praline to whimper and gasp.

When the motion abruptly stopped, a disappointed Praline looked over his shoulder to investigate. Stewart looked up at him and giggled. He’d balanced a bar of soap on top of one of Praline’s ass cheeks and it was staying there! “That is just so amazing,” he said.

Horrified, Praline wiggled just enough to knock off the bar of soap.

“Ah, you spoiled my fun,” Stewart complained. “Okay, we’re getting soggy. Time to go into the bedroom.”

Dicks wagging in front of them, they walked from the bathroom to the bedroom. Praline kept his eyes on Stewart’s thick cock, planning to inspect it close up very soon. He tried not to notice that there was another hole in the wall next to the bed and that the lamp on the nightstand had been badly broken—though it still worked, it tilted sharply to the left.

Next to the lamp sat a photo of Stewart with a thickly muscled man of about forty-five, whose hair plugs and overly hip clothing suggested he refused to admit he was a day past thirty. Stewart noticed Praline looking at the photo, and turned it face down on the nightstand. “We don’t want my roommate staring at us while we play, now do we?”

“You must be awfully close,” Praline said, and not just because of the bedside photo; it seemed to be a one-bedroom condominium. He would have given this more thought, but his attention was drawn to several adult toys spread out on a latex sheet.

Proudly, Stewart picked up the longest of three dildos. It was an angry red and about a foot and a half long. He held the dildo up in the air and asked, “Do you know what this is, little boy?”

Of course, Praline knew what it was and said so. He’d heard plenty about dildos growing up—the boys at his high school used “dildo-breath” as an endearment and, of course, he’d seen many, many dildos (JPEGs, that is). However, he’d never seen one quite like this. In addition to being long and red, it had a penis molded onto each end.

“And do you know what we’re going to do with it?” Stewart asked in a low, honeyed voice. Well, yes, Praline had some idea. Though he was curious as to exactly how
it
might work.

Too excited to wait for an answer, Stewart swept the other toys away and jumped onto the latex sheet. Getting on all fours, he instructed Praline to get behind him and do the same. Spreading lube on both ends of the dildo, he inserted one end into his ass
,
giving out a low, raspy moan as he did so.

“Put the other end into your ass,” he said breathlessly.

Praline hesitated
.
Did he want to do this? He wasn’t sure. It was a rather large dildo, after all. And he’d never done anything like this before. But then he remembered that he’d recently learned he was the adventurous type and this happened to be exactly the kind of thing adventurous people did.

He climbed onto the bed and slipped the dildo into his ass.

“Now back your butt up toward mine,” Stewart said.

Backing up, Praline felt the dildo slide deeper into his ass. The phallus pressed against his prostate in a stimulating way. Stewart started rocking back and forth, which eased the dildo out a bit, then pushed it back in, seeming to go further in with each push. Gently pushing against Praline’s sweet spot each time. Too gently, actually.

After a bit, Stewart seemed to tire of their position. He twisted around and took hold of the dildo with one hand and then jack-hammered it back and forth. Praline moaned rhythmically. “Ah, ah, ha, AH, ah, ah, ha, AH!” This was much more to our acquiescent hero’s liking.

“Man, this is so hot,” Stewart gasped, and stopped what he was doing. Praline caught his breath and was about to request a little more jack-hammering, when Stewart told him to turn over onto his back.

Once on their backs, they intertwined their legs so as to get their butts close enough to slip the dildo back in. Stewart lifted his hips and began to buck back and forth. Meanwhile, Praline couldn’t help thinking, even though he was rock hard and totally turned on, that he might be having more fun if they put the dildo aside and Stewart just fucked him. Or maybe he could fuck Stewart. Either way. He wasn’t picky about such things.

Though the double-headed apparatus was effective, Praline felt disconnected, staring at the ceiling and wiggling his hips back and forth. Stewart moaned loudly, but other than their legs wrapped around each other they weren’t even touching anymore. It occurred to him that this might not be the best way to get to know a person.

Praline hoped Stewart would tire of the novelty item, pull it out, and stick his big, chubby dick into him instead. It would be deliciously warm, and he could look up into Stewart’s pretty eyes while being aggressively pumped.
J
ust as Praline was hoping for this, he hoped a little too hard, and, without planning to, came in three great bursts. Stewart caught on and, with a few rapid thrusts of the dildo, also came.

Bellies splattered, they lay panting on the bed. Then, after pulling the dildo out of their butts with a double pop, Stewart sat up.

“Wasn’t that amazing?” he asked. “It’s like we were feeling the same thing at exactly the same time.”

“Yeah, it was great,” Praline agreed and, fantasies aside, it had been great.

Unexpectedly, they heard the sound of a slamming door. Stewart jumped up and said, “Oh my God, my husband’s home. Shit. He said he wasn’t coming back until tomorrow night. You have to get out of here. He’s insanely jealous.”

Always a bit slow after an orgasm, Praline gaped at Stewart. “Husband? You said roommate.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” Stewart grabbed the young man and pulled him off the bed. “You have to go!”

“Go where?” It was a reasonable question. Praline was pretty certain there was only one entrance to the apartment and Stewart’s husband had just come through it.

Stewart slid open a glass door to the bedroom’s balcony. A man’s Eastern European-accented voice called out, “Baby, you here? You husband home now!”

“Just a minute, sweetie,” Stewart called out. Then he gave Praline a hard push onto the balcony. Had he had time to investigate, Praline would have seen that the balcony was a kind of graveyard for rejected exercise equipment. There was an exercise bike, a flimsy treadmill and a mail-order home gym. But he didn’t have time, instead he took a giant step backward attempting to regain his balance and landed square on an abandoned mini-trampoline that propelled him up and over the balcony’s railing
.

With arms flying willy-nilly, he desperately reached for something, anything to halt his trajectory. As he tipped over the balcony, his hands grabbed hold of the wrought iron posts that held up the railing. He slid down them and came to a painful stop, his eyes at floor level.

Peeking his nose over the edge onto the balcony, Praline saw that Stewart had closed the bedroom drapes. He was about to scream for help, when the booming, heavily accented voice of Stewart’s husband stopped him. “What the fuck going on? Whore! Pig whore!”

Before Stewart was able to respond, a loud crashing sound suggested the flight attendant had been thrown across the room. Even though his situation was precarious, Praline decided to wait a bit before screaming. Then, he looked down at the quiet city street fourteen floors below and began to crave his mama’s shoo fly pie.

Praline makes a frenemy.

Even as Praline dangled naked from the fourteenth-floor balcony, the wind tickled his penis and began to arouse him. This might seem odd given the danger of his situation, but such are the benefits of a twenty
-
year-old’
s
libido.

Struggling to focus on his predicament, he studied the balcony below. It seemed he might be able to toss himself onto it if he could swing his legs back far enough to gain momentum. Of course, if that didn’t work he’d fall fourteen stories to a certain death. Or, if he looked on the bright side, break every bone in his body and survive in a vegetative state for decades to come.

He could attempt to climb back up onto Stewart’s balcony. It would be difficult but might be the safer choice. The real danger was facing Stewart’s still-screaming husband. In fact, the screaming—both Stewart’s and his husband’s—had gotten so loud that Praline hadn’t bothered to scream himself. No one would have heard him.

With his arms beginning to tire, he had to decide: Should he risk the ire of an irate husband? Or should he fling himself onto the balcony below? Biceps quivering, a choice had to be made soon, but which—

Suddenly, Praline felt a pair of arms wrap around his hips, strong hands pleasantly grasped his buttocks. A man said, “I’ve got you. Let go.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Praline decided to trust the virile-sounding stranger and let go. In one swift move, Praline was pulled to safety. Just as swiftly, he and his rescuer fell flat onto the balcony’s cement floor. Praline landed with his hips pressed into the stranger’s face. He raised himself, inadvertently dragging his penis across the young man’s mouth as he rolled off of him.

“Gosh, I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t mean to stick my…um, you know…right in your face.” Just a few years older than Praline, the young man was compact and olive-skinned, with eyes the color of semi-sweet chocolate and heavy black stubble shadowing his chin. Praline assumed he was straight, given that ninety-some percent of men in the world supposedly are, and as a straight man would likely be disturbed, even under the circumstances, to find Praline’s lubed-up, jizz-covered penis shoved in his face. He continued to apologize, “I can’t tell you how mortified—”

Raising a hand to stop him, the young man muttered, “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time.” Which Praline took to mean he was gay and had voluntarily had penises thrust into his face, rather than meaning he was straight and it wasn’t the first time he’d rescued a naked man from certain death only to end up with a penis thrust into his face.

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You saved my life!”

The young man wiped a bit of stray semen off his cheek, “No problem. Would you like to explain how you happened to be hanging naked off a balcony in the middle of the night?”

Something about the way he said it made Praline self-conscious, and he casually draped his hand over his crotch. “Well, it’s complicated.”

“I should hope it’s complicated,” the young man replied. “It’s not the kind of thing that should have a simple explanation.”

With a shy smile, Praline began to relate his story in extensive detail right there on the balcony. Overwhelmed, his rescuer stopped him and said, “Maybe we should go inside and get comfortable. My name’s Jason by the way. Jason Friedman.”

Praline introduced himself and followed Jason into the condo. The layout was identical to 1406 above, but the décor was more dramatic. The bedroom walls were tomato red and from what Praline could see of the living room it was painted a vibrant, vibrating teal. The bedroom furniture had an Asian influence and, to Praline’s down-home eye, didn’t look especially comfortable. The bed was a thin mat on a slab. There was a sharp-cornered dresser, spindly nightstands, and two chairs made of raw birch-branches tied together by a few strips of leather. Jason pulled a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts out of a gym bag and offered them to Praline.

As he restarted his story, Praline couldn’t help but examine the young man in front of him. Jason wore thin pajama bottoms and nothing else. His chest and stomach were covered with a layer of moist black hair that grew in wide swirls. His most prominent feature though was his nose, which was large and slightly hooked. His hairline receded a bit
,
giving him a high forehead, and his lips glinted raspberry red.

Though Praline had to admit Jason had a certain appeal, he also knew he wasn’t the kind of young man who’d ever be asked to appear in a magazine photo spread or on reality television, and therefore could not be considered attractive. Praline felt sorry for him. Being unattractive was about the worst thing that could happen to a gay man.

“That’s quite a story,” Jason said when Praline finished.

“I know, I’d barely believe it if it hadn’t happened to me.”

“Everybody goes through a really crazy period in their early twenties. Not always as death-defying as your experience, but definitely crazy.” Jason blushed
,
clearly remembering his own indiscretions. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

“It’ll pass?” asked a distressed Praline. He’d just discovered that he had an adventurous personality. The last thing he needed to find out was that it was only a phase. “Golly, I hope not.”

Jason looked at him oddly.

The arguing above them had faded to a rumble. Staring at the ceiling, Praline said, “I suppose I should go upstairs and ask for my stuff back.”