“It sounds kind of immature to me.”
“All the surfing teams have some kind of initiation or game like that they play. Everyone surrounding the tournament takes it pretty serious, except for the Americans I guess. No offense.”
“None taken.” I didn’t know of anything like that going on with the American team if they did participate.
My ego was a bit crushed to think that Sven and Larz had thought that I was a dud in bed. I was happy now that I had not run into them again since the daytrip. I knew my pride would heal though. I had definitely slept with some lousy guys in the past, and it’d be rude to think that I’m always going to be a Casanova. It’s part of being gay I guess. I decided not to tell my friend or the other American team members about what I had learned. I laughed to myself as I walked back inside to join them. The Americans were good surfers, but it seems that over half of the team was a bad lay.
Pay Day
At the end of this work day, I am sitting at the bar in a joint called Alcatraz. This place is in a seedy part of town right in front of one of the busiest streets in the city, especially around quitting time when everyone is getting off work and on their way to happy hour like me. The parking lot for this bar is across the street. I’m surprised I haven’t seen a car hit someone trying to cross the street to get into this place. I only come here because it’s two blocks from my apartment and the only place close enough for me to get to without having to try to cross the street or take a bus. If I’ve had one too many to drink, the last thing I want to do is to get hit by a car or try to catch a bus home, risk passing out and then have some trash take my wallet.
Speaking of trash, this bar is full of it. Fags line the wall in the dark looking to get their cock sucked. There’s a tree house out back above the patio where they go to do their business. It doesn’t bother me as long as they leave me alone. There are two bathrooms with black doors near the back of the bar, one marked with a sign that says “master” and the other with a sign that says “slave.” I try to avoid them all together. From the outside, they reek of piss and sex, and the stench of sweat and leather linger in the air. Although the bar is kept dark all the time, the place resembles a factory or construction site. Through the smoky room you can see metal pipes lining the black walls, with belts and hand cuffs draped over them. I try not to think of how many bugs or diseases I could probably catch if I stood too close to them.
The bartender is always nice, probably only because I tip him well. His name is Jack and he resembles a hardworking man like me, although I’ve wondered if his looks are a costume just to fit into the theme of the bar, with his ripped jeans and plaid shirt. He even wears a hardhat, but what kind of a construction worker would pound asphalt all day and then come to a place like this to sling beer for a bunch of homos. He’s got my own beer ready by the time he sees me walk in the door and sit down. I guess I’m quite the regular here, you could say. That’s not something I would ever admit to, but at the end of a another day in my frustrated life, I need a place close by like this where no one gives a shit and no one will bother me.
So, I’m sitting at the bar this one night keeping my eyes glued to the television like I always do. They don’t ever play anything on the screen except porn, and it isn’t the kind I’m accustomed to trying to watch at home through static late at night, beating myself off while catching the glimpse of a fuzzy black and white ass cheek or tit. Here two guys are going at it in a shower; the faint sound of techno music in the background. A pool game going on behind me stalls while everyone stops to catch the guys on the screen shooting their wad all over each other. I turn my head away and Jack sees me; he smiles, finding humor in my disgust. I peek back to see if the scene is done but try to avoid looking curious.
I’d often catch guys whispering to Jack at the end of the bar. I knew they were questioning him about me, afraid that I was some undercover cop that would bust them doing coke in the bathroom or smoking weed under the tree house. Or even worse, they might be possibly attracted to me and trying to pump Jack for information before they approach me. However, I’m glad they kept their distance. After several weeks of coming here, everyone forgot all about me which was alright by me. Like I said before, I didn’t bother anybody in this place and I certainly didn’t want them to bother me. Each time I come here, I stay planted on my barstool with the back of my head turned to the crowd, just trying to blend in like one of those pipes on the wall.
It’s Friday night and for once the bills are all paid and I’ve got plenty enough left to get me through till next payday. I look down and notice there’s one too many beer bottles in front of me and it’s still early in the night. I’m not ready to head home and think about having a few more, but I have to piss so badly. I hold it for a good hour before finally catching Jack to himself and call him over.
“You ready for another,” he asks.
“Yeah, I need your help first man. Be honest with me and don’t laugh,” I whisper across the bar to him.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Man, I need to piss like a racehorse and I don’t know which bathroom to use.”
He smirks a bit, holding his laugh behind his fist. My face stays solemn without a grin just staring at him, letting him know that I’m not joking, that I’m being serious.
“Use the one on the left,” he says, his grin quickly fades.
“Thanks, Jack. Hold my seat, will ya?”
I slid off my stool and fade into the dark hoping not to bump into anyone while I head toward the door marked “master.” It takes quite a push to get the door open. I thought for a moment someone might be leaning against it on the inside, but the bathroom was empty. I held my breath as I stepped inside. I was surprised that the bathroom was actually very clean, although that stench still lingered in the air. A blue light overhead shines down on an all white tile bathroom outlined in black. There were two urinals on the wall with a pedestal sink on the other side. I guess the toilet was in the bathroom marked “slave.” The pipes and the faucets were shiny silver chrome, so shiny that I could even see myself in them. A condom and lube dispenser hung on the wall above the urinals, a paper towel dispenser above the sink.
I stood as close to the urinal as possible taking the longest piss ever and trying not to touch any more than I had to even though the bathroom was remarkably clean. I heard the door open and someone come in, although I didn’t turn to look at them. I kept my face to the wall trying to finish my business as quickly as possible but all that beer just wouldn’t let up.
“Hi, what’s your name?” I hear this kid ask from behind. I peer at him over my shoulder, nod my head at him but turn back to the wall.
“I’m Chris,” he says. He’s probably in his mid-twenties, kind of short, nice solid slim build, blue eyes, buzzed blond hair. A small diamond earring shines from his left ear. He looks a lot like all the other kids that come in here quite a bit.
“Tom,” I finally answered him.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, “I see you in hear a lot.”
After standing there for a few minutes, he finally steps up to the urinal next to me and unzips his pants. I don’t say anything back.
“What’s a hot guy like you doing in a place like this,” he asks.
“Minding his own business,” I spit back with a bit of force, hoping he’ll shut up. Finally done, I zip up and step over to the sink to wash my hands.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I was hoping you might be interested,” Chris said, zipping up his pants and turning around to face me.
“Interested in what?” I ask, looking at him in the mirror above the sink.
“You know,” he smiles, “going out back and talking or whatever you want.”
“Look kid, I think you have the wrong idea. I’m not interested in anything in here, especially in going out back.”
“Why are you always in here then?” He asks with a grin.
“To have a beer or two and be left alone,�
� I say to him, “I don’t want anything else.”
“What if I told you that I want you to fuck me?”
I turned around and grabbed him by the shoulders with my wet hands and slammed him into the wall. I couldn’t believe what he had just said to me.
“Go fuck yourself, you faggot,” I spit in his face. I looked for fear in his face but his expression had never changed.
“I’d pay you, and I’d never tell anyone. No one would ever have to know,” he said to me very seriously.
I just starred at him and laughed a bit. I couldn’t believe what he was asking.
“Shouldn’t a guy like me be saying that to you?” I asked.
“It’s been said before, but let’s just say that tonight I finally got up enough guts to ask for what I really want,” Chris said.
“Yeah, I’ll say you got a lot of guts asking shit like that to a guy like me, kid. If I was sober right now, I probably would have broken your jaw by now.”
“So, you interested?”
“Hell no.” I let go of his shoulders but he stayed pinned against the wall.
“Name your price,” he said.
“I said no.” I turned toward the door but he grabbed my arm. I turned quickly as if to strike him but he put his other hand on my chest as if to stop me.
“Five hundred dollars,” he said
Five hundred dollars was almost a week’s pay to me. I thought about the guys on the television above the bar and just couldn’t imagine myself acting out something like that. But Chris must have seen something in my eyes that told him I was actually thinking about going through with this. In a soft voice, he told me that we could go out in the alley behind the bar where it was dark and no one would see, and he explained to me what would take place. I still couldn’t believe that a young kid like him was asking this of me when he could probably have any guy in this bar that he wanted. However, I figured that I was still capable enough of breaking his nose if he tried to rob me or pull any funny business.
He told me to go pay my tab and walk out the front door and then walk down the alley that ran between the bar and the building next to it. He would exit out the back through the patio and meet me in the alley. I warned him what would happen if he decided to pull any funny business, but he told me not to worry.
“You outta here?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, I think I’m heading home for the night,” I told him as I gave him a twenty, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks, man. See ya later,” Jack said as I walked out the front door.
The alley was very dark but I could see a figure in the distance in front of me leaning against the building, the tip of a cigarette lit his face. I could tell by the height that it was definitely Chris. As I approached him, he didn’t say anything to me but turned and started walking along the side of the building toward the back. I walked along behind him, turning to see if anyone was following us. At the end of the alley, there was a wooden gate that opened up to a pathway over grown with trees that ran behind the fence surrounding the bar’s patio.
“You sure no one ever comes back here,” I asked him.
“Nah, if the gate is closed then people from the bar know not to come back here. It’s kind of a signal. It’s usually where people come for a bit of privacy, but being this late most people have already gone home. There’s no trash so I don’t even think homeless people come through here. If they did, we’d here the leaves rustling before they walked up on us. Don’t worry,” Chris assured me.
I tried to look around but it was too dark to see anything. The patio from behind the fence was oddly quiet. I looked up toward the top of the fence to see if people from in the tree house could look down on us, but the fence was too tall and the leaves were too full overhead. Chris assured me that no one on the patio could see or hear us. I blinked my eyes to adjust to the dark because he was only a voice coming from a dark silhouette somewhere in front of me. I figured it was probably better that I couldn’t see him; I could pretend that he was someone else if I needed to.
I felt his fingers grab my belt loops as he pulled me in front of him and back against the fence. He dropped to his knees in front of me, undoing my pants and pulling them down to my ankles. I held my breath and closed my eyes tight even though I could not see anything. Chris ran his fingers along my waist inside the elastic of my briefs and then pulled them down as well. He cupped my balls in his warm hand and stroked my cock with the other. I felt it growing hard in his grasp, and then I felt his moist lips wrap around the head of my shaft. Scenes from the television in the bar ran through my head although I tried to block them out for fear that I’d lose my erection. Chris’s mouth traveled down the sides of my cock, swallowing it up in his hot mouth. As he sucked my cock, all thoughts soon left my head and were replaced by a feeling of total bliss.
“Now I want you to fuck me,” Chris said.
He stood up and pulled his jeans down. He then leaned over and braced himself with his hands spread against the fence and his feet spread apart. I took this as my cue to stand behind him. I put my hands on his hips but wasn’t sure exactly how this was going to work. I shifted around a bit, but Chris offered his help my taking my hard cock in his hand and guiding it into his tight asshole. I pressed my waist against his ass forcing my dick into him deeper. It was a feeling unlike any other I had felt before. His ass was so tight. Slowly, I eased into him until I felt his muscles relax and accept me inside of him. I immediately grabbed his waist and started fucking his ass as hard as I could. Chris pulled his shirt up over his shoulders and threw it to the ground. I took my own shirt off as well, sliding it up over my shoulders and letting it hang there around my neck.
It had been months since I had even fucked a woman, some whore from the street corner, and it didn’t even feel half as good as this did. If I had known how easy this was and how good it felt, I would have been taking guys home from the bar a long time ago. The tight heat of his ass around my cock and against my legs excited me. I pushed harder just to slap my balls against his buttocks. I could tell he liked it too the way he moaned.
With my hands gripped tightly on his shoulders I pulled his small frame back, piercing him with my erect cock, pressing as hard as I could into him. Chris grunted with both pain and ecstasy.
“I’m gonna shoot,” I said in between my own grunts.
“Come in me, man. Come in me,” Chris begged.
With one final hard push, my rod exploded in him. My waist jerked with the jolt of my ejaculation. I pulled out of him quickly and finished shooting my load up his back. We stood there, frozen in place for a few minutes, waiting for our hearts to slow. Chris stayed bent over, with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked zipping myself up. I took off my shirt and used it to wipe the jizz from his back.
“Oh yeah,” he said standing up and pulling up his pants.
“Now about that pay?”
“Yep,” Chris said digging into his pocket with no hesitation.
“You can keep it, if we can make a deal.”
“Oh?”
“Next week. Same time. Same place,” I said.
“Deal.”
Bennington’s Place
I met Bennington through a friend of a friend of a friend who introduced us to each other at a nightclub called The Castle one summer. It wasn’t a blind date or even an intended meeting, but rather one of those “oh, look who’s here…you know each other, right…oh, you guys have met before…at that party…you know the one…so…hey look who just walked in!” And just as a hand around each of our waists had ushered us closer together, we were left standing there next to the dance floor while our mutual butterfly friend flew away.
We shook hands, swapped names, and both confirmed we had definitely never met. Then, we stood there pretending to be interested in watching the mob of sweaty twinks in front of us fumble to the latest Cher song. It all seemed very much rehearsed, and probably because it was. Without saying
anything, we both knew we’d been there before and it was useless to spit words into each other’s ears all night and attempt a meaningful conversation. Loud music and insightful vocabulary just didn’t mix. Words without sounds, and the look in his eyes, told me we both knew that. He swallowed hard the last couple of swigs of a beer and dismissed himself with a nod. The reflected shards of light from a disco ball fell off his back and moved across the floor. I watched him walk away, but I knew we weren’t done yet.
The Castle had an excellent patio complete with a volley ball court, picnic tables, a wet bar, and lots of tall perfectly manicured shrubs that concealed park benches perfect for quick make-out sessions. There was even a garden pool, which I never saw anyone take a dip in except for the occasional sloppy drag queen that someone had pushed in. The pool’s underwater bright lights created an eerie aqua blue reflection waving over the whole patio, which would give any drunk soul the dizzy feeling they too had been submerged.
A heavy downpour had chased the patio party inside earlier that night, but the precipitation had stopped and so I stepped outside to bask in the smell of a cool summer rain and some fresh air. Slow steam rose from the pool and the searing concrete, and it was an invigorating feeling having the whole garden to myself while the rattle of techno echoed from behind the club walls. I glided through the clouds of steam, which resembled fog, and I thought of myself as some mad scientist scouring a cemetery late at night for a body in some 1930s black and white horror flick. The array of wine cooler and beer bottles sitting on the picnic tables were the test tubes in my laboratory. However, for my next mad experiment, I’d settle for just talking over a cup of coffee and maybe an early morning kiss good-night. Unfortunately, most of the guys I had dated were indeed monsters. Fed up with the night, I turned to go back indoors to go home but found Bennington standing there instead.
Bennington's Place Page 9
