Jazz Baby

by Roland Graeme

  A few of the bolder couples did their thing together with the door wide open and the light on, encouraging other guys to watch them from the hallway, or to crowd into the room and join in.

  To get the hang of how it all worked, I walked past twenty or thirty rooms, looking in at the occupants. Some of them, I had to admit, were really hot-looking—muscular, with big dicks which they fondled invitingly, often making their pricks gleam in the dim light with a palmful of lubricant. But this whole scene was still so new to me that I wanted to complete the tour before selecting my first actual sex partner.

  I walked to the end of the corridor, toward the red Exit light at its far end, and I cruised everybody I passed. A couple of men who passed me let their hands brush against my hard-on through my towel. One dude stopped me, his hand gripping my arm, and he whispered into my ear, “Want to come to my room? I’ll suck you dry!”

  I smiled but I shook my head—he wasn’t quite my type—and I quickly moved on. But I was getting impatient. The thought of all the sex going on so openly, so unashamedly, all around me was driving me crazy with barely pent-up lust!

  I headed toward the door which led to the stairwell, and I went up to the third floor. Behind me, somebody also going up to investigate the action on the third floor reached up and felt my left thigh under my towel. I twisted my head around, looked down at him, and smiled. He squeezed my thigh and smiled back.

  We separated, though, and I looked into another corridor. The third floor was laid out somewhat differently. It was divided into one large room resembling a virtual dormitory, containing a number of beds arranged in close rows, and the rest of the space, which was split up into cubicles like those on the second floor. Men were lying on the dormitory beds, either asleep or pretending to sleep. Again, no one spoke.

  I walked down the aisle between the beds and examined the meat display with growing hunger. A couple of guys were lying on their backs with hard-ons, stroking their cocks and rubbing their balls. I went over to one of them, a big truck driver type with a nine-inch dick in his hand, and I stood by his bed. I felt hot rushes of desire run through my veins, and my semi-hard-on turned into the real thing, a rock-solid erection which poked up blatantly under my towel.

  The truck driver guy—he must have been about twenty-eight, with curly black hair and massive biceps—reached out and ran his hand up the inside of my leg. He swallowed, and he licked the edge of his lips. His hand came up under my towel and cupped my balls. I felt his fingers run up the length of my tense cockshaft.

  With a gentle pressure, he pulled me by my cock onto the bed beside him. I sat down close to the huge dick he held between the fingers of his other hand. He had a hedge of black pubic hair, with his thick fuck tool sprouting out of it like a tree trunk.

  “Suck my cock,” he whispered to me.

  I went down on it. I didn’t give a damn about all the other men in the area. In fact, the guys on the beds of either side turned to watch as I moistened that big, rubbery dick with my tongue. I could hear bedsprings creaking around me. Somebody else who was cruising the “dorm” stopped at the foot of our bed to watch me blowing the stud. The truck driver squirmed as I put my lips to the head of his cock and grasped him by the thighs, which were powerful and thickly muscled, with a virtual lawn of crinkly black hair coating them. I slithered down the bed a foot or two to position my head over his cock and I went down on it all the way.

  He put his hands on my head, locked his fingers together behind my neck, and he began to move my head up and down on his meat, very rapidly and forcefully. His thighs writhed up against my chest, and his hands shoved my head all the way down on him—all nine inches!—until my lips banged against his egg-sized balls and my nose was crushed into the black silk of his crotch hair.

  “Suck it,” he growled. “And don’t you stop sucking until I’ve come in your mouth and you’ve swallowed every drop.”

  I gagged as the thick head of his cock passed the back of my throat and slammed down into my gullet, and I lifted my head in protest. His big hands squeezed my head between them like an orange, and he shoved my face back down again. At the same time, he lifted his ass from the bed. His hairy stomach muscles spasmed against my sweaty forehead. He raised his right leg and locked my by the neck between his calf and his thigh.

  I tried to lift my mouth off the shaft of his prick. I was choking, and in fact I felt on the verge of vomiting. But his left hand gripped my scalp and held me all the way down against his balls, my lips kissing his fat testicles while his fuck tool filled my mouth and throat, fucking me orally with brutal lust.

  Suddenly, he let out a faint groan, and his cock shot its stream of hot cum down my gullet, rinsing out my guts with the steady flow of thick, creamy fuck fluid. I gagged again, and the semen ran out from between my lips and his jerking cockshaft, soaking into his black pubic bush.

  His right hand slammed down on my head like a sledgehammer, and he locked my head even more tightly between both of his brawny legs. His cum never seemed to stop shooting out of his big dick, flooding my mouth and throat, filling my belly as I swallowed it desperately. There had to be a pint of it, half of it sliding sluggishly down my throat and the other half spilling out of my raped mouth over his cock and balls and crotch hair.

  The pulsating head of his emptying prick felt like a fist being clenched and unclenched rhythmically inside my throat! His whole body spasmed in a final paroxysm of lust under me, and then it was over.

  His hands fell to his sides on the bed and his legs uncoiled from my neck. He lay there like a felled giant on the narrow mattress, panting, his hairy chest rising and falling like a bellows working, his slippery cock immersed in a pool of saliva and white, creamy cum on his stomach.

  I sat up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My forehead and chest dripped sweat. Blearily, he looked up at me.

  “Thanks,” he grunted, and then he turned over onto his side, away from me. The guy at the foot of the bed moved off into the darkness. The two men on the beds on either side stopped jerking off and they lay back, still. The sex show was over, and I’d sucked off my first cock at the baths. Another milestone in gay life had been successfully passed.

  Chapter Ten: Giving a Cop a Hand

  My hair, I realized with a mixture of amusement and dismay, was sopping wet with the truck driver’s jism. I certainly looked the part of a cocksucker as I stood up and walked back toward the stairwell. I had noticed a sign on the first floor that indicated the showers were located in the basement. Obviously, to patronize this establishment, you had to be willing to do some hiking, including negotiating the stairs.

  I passed the reception area on my way to the basement. After I made the descent, I discovered that there was a small swimming pool in the basement. A naked man was dog-paddling across the pool when I entered. He rolled over onto his back to watch me as I headed toward the shower stalls near the pool.

  I took off my towel, hung it on a wall hook, and stepped under the nearest showerhead. I took the worn-down bar of cheap soap from the ledge and began soaping myself. It felt good.

  As I showered, I could feel the eyes of the guy in the pool on my naked body. I found myself enjoying his admiration, getting off on the fact that he found my body desirable. I stretched my arms up and soaped my sides, putting on a show for him. I rubbed the bar of soap through my pubic hair and worked up a heavy lather, spreading it over my cock and balls. I raised my left leg and rubbed the lather over my flexed calf muscle.

  I could hear a flurry of splashes in the pool water behind me. Was the swimmer actually beating off as he watched me? I didn’t want to be responsible for somebody getting distracted and actually drowning!

  I stood under the stream of steaming-hot water and let it run through my hair, over my eyes and cheeks, and down my chest. My ass was facing the staircase at the moment. I heard somebody’s bare feet thud down the stairs, and then the sound of water running from another showerhead.

  Casually, I turned
around. Two showers down, a young guy stood with his back to me. Immediately, I focused my attention on his truly fantastic ass. He had a slender waist slightly arched forward, sloping down over solid, dimpled ass cheeks. His legs were chunky and long-muscled, with a football player’s calves. The hot water poured down over the rippling muscles of his broad back as he soaped himself, and it flowed through the dark hair on his legs. He bent over and I could see the brownish-pink pucker of his asshole.

  I stopped soaping myself and I watched him. My cock got hard.

  “Hi.” He had turned around suddenly in my direction. “Hey—aren’t you Keith?”

  “Yeah.” I held my erection in my and blinked to get the water out of my eyes. He looked familiar to me. I remembered his face from one of the bars. As he spoke, he moved from under the shower and came toward me, alluringly naked and wet, his hand outstretched.

  “Sure, now I remember,” he told me. “How have you been?”

  “Fine.” And I recalled his name. He was Mario—Paul’s buddy, the cop.

  We met under the showerhead between us, and somewhat formally, given the circumstances, we shook hands.

  “I haven’t seen you out for a while, kid,” Mario said, casually. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”

  “Oh, here and there. I haven’t been to the bars that much, lately. I’ve been keeping myself busy.” As I made this vague and no doubt lame-ass excuse, my eyes kept doing a dance all over the other guy’s exceptionally hot body. I didn’t see how I could have forgotten this stud’s name, even for a moment.

  I certainly remembered his physique, even though on that previous occasion he’d been dressed, and now he was nude. There were the same beefy pecs, with their hard, pointed nipples, which I’d seen bulging under Mario’s T-shirt the night we’d met. That had been my first night out in the gay world. What an introduction to gay life! And how far I’d already come, in the short time since then!

  As he talked on, I recalled how he’d squeezed my dick that night, and how I’d felt his ramrod bulging against my leg through our clothes. Now, of course, we were both naked, and his dick was hanging out in front of me, in a long, meaty arc of flesh, sprouting from a jungle of curly black pubic hair. His cock was darker than the rest of his body, a light brown color, with a huge purplish-red head, resembling a ripe plum. His whang glistened with soap and water as I stared down at it.

  Restlessly, Mario kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, making the athletic muscles of his thighs tense and ripple along with the movement. He had virtually no gut. Instead, a well-chiseled girdle of muscle connected his waist to his pubic hair. A narrow ribbon of that soft black crotch hair extended up from his groin, swirled around his navel, and fanned out sparsely over his swollen pecs.

  “Are you living with Paul now?” he wanted to know.

  “Yeah,” I replied, absently. Paul was far from my thoughts at the moment, I’m afraid!

  The ends of our dicks were scarcely an inch apart, swaying, nodding invitingly to each other. I felt Mario’s dark eyes riveted to mine. His hand was resting on the front of his thigh, near his balls. His fingers casually slid up under his balls and massaged the underside of their hairy sac. His cock flopped up and down in response to the tickling pressure on his scrotum. I could feel our wet, naked bodies coming closer together as though compelled by a magnetic attraction.

  The man in the pool, whom I’d forgotten was there, made a loud splash with both arms, and Mario and I turned our heads to see him floating on his back in the shallow end, his head resting in the water near the tiled edge of the pool. He was stroking his erection, which jutted out of the water, and he smiled at us. He was probably hoping for a threesome, but we disappointed him.

  “Say, Keith, why don’t we go to my room?” Mario suggested. We looked at each other, raw desire written in our eyes.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  We turned on the showerhead above us and rinsed the soap from our bodies, our arms and legs brushing together, our dicks touching. We kept looking at each other and grinning—in our eyes erotic promise smoldered away, quickly reaching combustion temperature. I half-expected the water to turn into steam when it touched my flesh, I was so goddamn hot!

  “You want to go to your room, or mine?” I asked Mario, as I followed him up the stairs to the first floor.

  “It doesn’t really matter, I guess. But do you have any poppers?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  He chuckled. “I’m always well supplied. Come on, we’ll go to my room. Hurry! I can’t wait to be alone with you.”

  Hotter than ever after hearing this remark, this proof that Mario’s lust was every bit as urgent as my own need, I pursued him up the stairs to the second floor, watching his balls dangling between his legs under his too-short towel, which covered his crotch and ass, but which was almost as revealing as total nudity would have been.

  I started memorizing details of his body—such as the way his calf muscles tapered downward toward the back of his ankles. His ass was slightly hairy, but then I liked a man to have hair on his ass. Sprigs of silky black hair sprouted from under his armpits. His back was smooth and solidly muscled, with a straight, deep spinal indentation ending at the top of his butt. His torso sat on a thin waist, narrow for such a big man.

  On the third floor, Mario led me directly down the dimly-lit corridor to the last room in a long row of them. He put the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door so quickly that I didn’t have time to see the room number. Several other guys at that end of the hallway were on the prowl, rubbing their cocks under their towels, eyeing one another eagerly. Ignoring them, I followed Mario into his room, and he closed and locked the door.

  Even with the light off, I could see that Mario’s cubicle was identical to mine, except that the bed happened to be on the opposite side. He didn’t waste any time. He dropped his towel from his waist to the floor and turned to face me. I hung my own towel over the foot of the bed. Silently, we came together, our arms wrapping around each other’s waists.

  His body was warm, smooth, and beautifully solid against mine. We kissed standing there beside the bed, our tongues licking out the insides of our mouths, our hands feeling the hard contours of our bodies. Our cocks pressed hard together. Mario’s erection rose and found its way between my leg and my balls. I clamped my leg around it.

  He reached down and shoved my dick between his leg and balls, as we held our bodies close together like that. His hands stroked my back and slid down to my ass cheeks.

  He rocked back and forth in a fucking motion, our cocks squeezed between each other’s legs. I licked the shadow of his beard stubble with the end of my tongue, savoring the salty taste of his skin, and then I bent down and drew a line with my tongue down his chest to the hard tip of his pec.

  With his hands on my sides, I sucked on first his right tit, then the left, and ran my tongue down the ribbon of hair on his stomach. I swabbed out the deep pit of his navel.

  His hands came up to my neck and I took the head of his cock between my lips. It was firm, with a nice, wide glans which featured an unusually large piss opening. I stuck the tip of my tongue into the hole and tasted the sweet juice of his pre-cum. He sucked air quickly down into his lungs, and then he thrust his hips forward, as though to pull my tongue deep inside his cock.

  “Let’s get on the bed,” he whispered.

  He slid onto the bed on his back and spread his legs wide apart. I followed him, lying on top of him, shoving my palms under the flared muscles of his back. His hairy legs wrapped around my calves, and we started kissing again, tongue sliding over tongue, until we had thoroughly explored the interiors of each other’s mouths.

  We switched positions, me on my back, and Mario on top of me, kneeling over my body. He gave me a tongue bath, from my neck down to my ankles. For a full five minutes I squirmed under the soft, wet pressure of his agile tongue as it searched out the muscles and crevices of my body.

  He lic
ked my ankles, bit the ends of my toes gently, ran his tongue over the soles of my feet and up the insides of my legs, and sucked hungrily on both of my balls at once, stuffing them inside his wet, hot mouth.

  He raised my legs over his shoulders, lifting my asshole into the air with his powerful arms, and he dug his tongue deep into my sphincter ring. It felt as though his tongue had penetrated as far as the pit of my stomach when he rimmed me like that! My whole body shook against his, in sheer ecstasy, as he sucked my ass, fucking it with his tongue.

  “Don’t come,” he grunted, the words muffled against my asshole. “Don’t come yet!”

  He lowered my ass, knelt up over me, and took a small brown-glass bottle of liquid from the bedside table, his chest brushing over mine as he reached for it.

  “Poppers,” he explained. He unscrewed the cap and put the bottle to his nose. “Whew!” he gasped, appreciatively. “Good and strong—” He handed the bottle to me with his thumb over its top.

  I took a long snort up each nostril, felt my head expand like a balloon being blown up, and I sailed off into the nirvana of a hot popper rush. Mario took the bottle from my hand, replaced the cap, and set it back on the table.

  We were both breathing hard. He looked down at my body from his kneeling position between my legs, while I gazed up at his magnificent chest and thighs and cock.

  He came down over me slowly, his body melting into mine, and we writhed together, our arms and legs intertwined, our groins shoved hard against each other. I wrapped my legs around his hairy thighs and I shoved his ass forward with the palms of my hands, to feel the bulk of his cock rubbing against mine.

  When we came down from our first high, Mario lifted me and tossed me like a feather on top of himself. We took another whiff of the poppers, and zoomed off again.

  This time, I gave Mario the tongue bath. I made him turn onto his stomach. I went up the backs of his legs with the flat of my tongue, spread his ass cheeks wide open with the tips of my fingers, and I ate out his ass.