Strung Tight

by Brown, Berengaria

  “Tell me about the tattoo,” said Jeff, resting his hand on Pete’s belly.

  Pete gave a little wiggle to show Jeff he liked the hand being there. “I’ve always liked tats. I like looking at pictures of men with tats. I like looking at different tattoos and styles of drawings. A couple of years ago the relationship I was in just sort of died. We found the passion simply wasn’t there anymore, so we parted as… Well, I guess more as acquaintances than as friends or lovers.

  “Anyway, I wanted to change up my life a little. Even then I was starting to find the desk job boring. It took me quite a few weeks to choose the design then find the right artist to ink it for me. I’ve been very happy with it.”

  “I like it a lot. It’s very different, very special. You’re special,” said Jeff, leaning over to drop a kiss on Pete’s bellybutton.

  Pete’s breath caught in his throat. Already he was becoming aroused again, his cock starting to stand up and lean toward Jeff’s touch. And oh how he wanted to touch Jeff’s Prince Albert, to lick along the jewelry and play with the tiny barbell.

  “Tell me about your piercing. When did you have it done?” he asked to get his mind off his cock.

  “I traveled with a band for four years, played a bit of guitar, wrote some of their songs. The money was good, although it tended to flow out like water because of all the parties the band threw night after night. After four years, I was totally over the whole thing—the traveling, the shows, the parties, people throwing themselves at us, the drugs. That’s when I packed up and left. I got this done just for me. I thought I’d be celibate forever more. Yeah, right, that didn’t last!” he laughed.

  “Exactly like your tattoo, this was the symbol of the new me. Of course, I discovered it gives my partner enormous pleasure, too, as well as me.”

  “It does indeed.” Pete was having trouble talking, Jeff’s hand was wandering over his tattoo, and his cock was getting desperate to be touched, too. “I want to suck it,” he confessed.

  “And I’d like to play with your tattoo. It might be time for some sixty-nine, d’you think?” suggested Jeff.

  Pete nodded and flipped around in the bed, to be beside and partially over Jeff, lowering his head to the other man’s cock and arranging his legs so Jeff could touch and lick him.

  Pete cupped Jeff’s balls with one hand and ran a finger up and over the jewelry. He was fascinated by the way the barbells peeked out of the skin and couldn’t resist extending his tongue to lick the length of the piercing. It tasted of Jeff, salty and musky with a faint metallic undertone.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured happily, running his tongue the length of the shaft. A shaft that was getting longer and thicker the more he licked. Pete rolled Jeff’s balls in one hand as he nibbled along the vein in the cock, then swiped his tongue across the head before pointing the tip of his tongue and diving into the eye for a taste of his pre-cum.

  “Delicious.” Pete sucked the cock head into his mouth, pulling it deep, deeper, deeper still, relaxing the back of his throat to accommodate as much as possible of the yummy cock. He rolled his tongue over and around the jewelry, delighting in the taste, the sensation. Relishing the powerful waves of lust sucking Jeff’s cock was giving him, feeling his own dick grow and stretch and extend in eagerness for more sex with this yummy man.

  But that wasn’t the only thing arousing him. Jeff was doing awesome things to him, too. The guitarist’s lips and fingers were trailing along the lines of his tattoo, sending shivers through his skin and making his heart beat faster with anticipation. Jeff was so close, so very close, to his cock, but not touching it, swirling his lips over skin, licking and nibbling as he went, but never touching his damn dick.

  Pete’s cock was huge, hard, hot, and aching to be touched, but still Jeff teased all around it.

  Pete lifted his mouth off Jeff’s penis to groan, “Dammit, suck my fucking cock, will ya. It’s aching for your touch.”

  “Oh, is that what you want?” The guitarist’s voice was full of laughter, but Pete’s cock was enveloped in the heat of his mouth and Pete sighed with relief. For about ten seconds, before groaning in joy as lips and tongue began to torment his cock and fingers rolled his balls.

  Pete responded by concentrating on sucking Jeff, and soon their mouths and bodies were working in unison as they licked and sucked each other’s cock and balls, their hands holding and stroking in counterpoint to their mouths.

  Pete’s spine started to tingle. His balls were hard and tight. He knew he was about to explode, so he gripped the end of the barbell on the Prince Albert piercing with his teeth and tugged gently as he worked Jeff’s balls with one hand and thrust his other thumb deep into the man’s ass.

  Instantly, a stream of hot cum hit the back of his throat and he swallowed, wanting to suck every drop from Jeff. Just then, Jeff scraped his teeth across the head of Pete’s cock and his own orgasm raced through him, streams of cum spurting from his cock, his whole body shaking with his release. He was hard-pressed to remember to hollow his cheeks and enhance Jeff’s climax and lick him clean as he kept on coming, while Jeff sucked him off.

  Finally, the aftershocks slowed, then stopped, and Pete swiveled around in the bed to rest his head on the pillows. Jeff pulled Pete hard against him and they kissed, an incredibly carnal kiss, as they shared each other’s flavors.

  Jeff leaned down to haul the bedcovers over them both. “Reckon we deserve a nap,” he said, holding Pete tight.

  *****

  Jeff sat on the steps of his trailer strumming his guitar as the notes for a new song coalesced in his brain. His fingers would discover the tune, and when he played it, he’d be able to write it down. But this one was for Pete, not to sell to the band. Pete. How could someone he hardly knew have left such a deep impression on him? He wasn’t twenty anymore, thinking himself in love with anyone who made his cock stir or that he could fuck and move on with no consequences. But what he felt for Pete was much more than either of those two responses.

  He suggested to Pete, as he drove him back to the motel in the early hours of the morning, that the blond come back and stay with him for a while before deciding what he wanted to do next. Jeff knew Pete wanted to return, but who knew if he’d turn up or not.

  Jeff shrugged his shoulders. Well, he’d find out tomorrow, or maybe the day after. But he sure as hell hoped Pete’d be back. Although maybe the company he worked for would have plans for him, offer him a more congenial tour group or something. Jeff shrugged again. Ah fuck it, I’ll just have to wait and see.

  It was almost dark. Time to get ready for his gig at the club. Jeff stood and moved into the trailer and laid his guitar carefully on the table before going into the bathroom to shave and shower.

  *****

  There wasn’t a big crowd at the strip club and Jeff knew the women would be disappointed. He could see Doris, the stunningly beautiful blond transvestite receptionist from the Busty Gladys Hotel, getting very friendly with Manny, who also worked at the Busty Gladys. They were at a table in the corner. The front tables were all filled, but there were a lot of gaps at the back. Thank God I’m not relying on tips to pay the rent, Jeff thought. Then he remembered most of the other staff did depend on tips.

  Tourism was the biggest single employer at Resort City. He had his other job, writing songs for the band, which he then uploaded to an FTP site, and his fees and royalties were paid directly into his bank account. Without the Internet, he wouldn’t be able to live here, but then the tourists all demanded good internet service, which was good for news him.

  But if Pete came here, what work could he do. Barkeep? Wait staff? Both of those paid minimum wage and no one could live on that. Most of the tourists here spoke English, and the ones who didn’t tended to come in a group with their own translator, so translation wasn’t a good job prospect.

  Were there freelance translators? Could people translate from home? Maybe they’d need dictionaries and manuals and stuff, but then again, maybe all that gear was o
nline. Even he’d heard of dictionary.com and thesaurus.com and babelfish. Uh. Too hard, it’s all too hard. If he comes back and if he wants to stay, maybe we can think about it then.

  When his shift ended, Jeff slung his guitar over his shoulder and roamed between the tables collecting tips, smiling at the occasional person who wanted to slip a bill in the waistband of his jeans, and generally working the room. Again he noticed Doris and Manny’s heads were very close together so he forbore to go to their table. At the very back of the room, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest—his yummy, muscular chest—was Pete, a bag at his feet.

  Jeff couldn’t help himself. A jaw-cracking grin split his face and he pulled the blond into his arms, slapping his back, hugging him hard. “Hey, man, good to see you.”

  “Good to see you, too.” Pete’s voice was husky and there was shininess in his big blue eyes. Could it be tears?

  As they walked together out to the parking lot, Jeff said, “Just the one bag?”

  “Yep. That’s all the guide’s permitted. The coach’s storage area is for the customers, not the staff.”

  “Uh-huh. Makes sense, I guess. Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

  “Storage locker. I cancelled my apartment when I quite the old job and figured I’d use my rest days to see a bit more of whatever place I ended up at.”

  “It looks like you’ve ended up in Resort City. It’d be my pleasure to show you around,” said Jeff, grinning again.

  “I’d rather explore around your body,” said Pete once they were in the car.

  “Me, too. It’s been a long four days. And I didn’t think you’d get here until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “It seemed stupid to pay a night’s accommodation when I could get straight on the bus and come here.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ll accommodate you, no worries.” They both laughed at the weak double entendre, then became silent as they moved from the car to Jeff’s house. It was well after midnight and trailer park residents tended to go to bed early.

  In the bedroom, there was a moment of stillness between them, a shared look of deep lust and longing, before clothes went flying everywhere. Then, the men were on the bed, Jeff’s legs wrapped around Pete as he laid on top of him, his hands tangled in Pete’s silky-soft blond hair, his tongue thrusting deep into Pete’s mouth and his cock dragging across the other man’s, over and over again, until they both ran out of breath.

  Jeff sat up to grab the lube and a condom from the nightstand and Pete rolled onto his stomach, waggling his ass high in the air.

  Jeff’s breath hitched and his cock leaked pre-cum. He swatted Pete’s ass. “Keep that up and there’ll be no time to prepare you properly.”

  Deliberately, Pete waggled his ass again and Jeff nearly came on the spot. “Fuck!” he gasped, squirting lube into the blond’s ass and thrusting a finger deep inside to rub the gel into the walls.

  Pete was scraping his cock across the bed and Jeff knew he had to hurry for both their sakes. Hastily, he added more gel, inserted a second finger to spread it around, rolled on a condom, slathered lube over the latex, and drove his aching, needy, cock into Pete’s ass. The muscles parted and Jeff thrust hard and deep, pushing his way inside.

  When he was balls-deep, he held still for a heartbeat, then withdrew. Rising a little onto his knees, he plunged inside again. Setting a harsh, desperate pace, his hands digging into Pete’s hips, he ploughed in and out. Pete pushing his ass back onto Jeff’s dick in time with the thrusts. They were both needy, ragged, hasty, yet the bed seemed to be clouded in a wave of testosterone as they fucked, hard, desperately, almost feral in their thrusting, powerful movements.

  Such raw passion couldn’t last long. Soon, Jeff knew he was coming and couldn’t hold it off for more than the briefest time. He slid a hand under Pete’s body and grabbed the other man’s cock. Timing his thrusts as best he could, he dragged his hand up Pete’s shaft, pressed his nails into the vein, rubbed his thumb over the head, and squeezed it, putting a little twist into his hand action as he dropped down to the root again.

  One, two, three frantic strokes and they both exploded together, cum jetting into Pete’s ass and into Jeff’s hand simultaneously. Jeff stroked again into Pete and along Pete’s erection, then they both sank down onto the bed, their sweaty bodies glued together.

  “Wow, that was wild,” gasped Pete.

  “Yeah. Let me get my breath back and we’ll do it again. Slowly.”

  “Fuck slowly. Let’s do it again just like that,” replied Pete.

  Nevertheless, the second time was a little slower, and the third was gentle and romantic. By the time they fell asleep, dawn was lighting up the sky, and they were both stiff in muscles that hadn’t been used so much in years. But they were very content.

  *****

  When they woke and showered, it was so close to lunch time they decided to eat in town.

  “After breakfast, lunch, brunch, or whatever we’re going to call it, I’ll take you around and show you my favorite places. I guess you only saw the tourist things when you were here before.”

  “We were really only here twenty-four hours. The men wanted to see the nudist beach and the company knew it would be cheaper to stay here than the extra night in Miami. I’m pretty sure they didn’t buy the propaganda about Resort City, they just used it as a draw card because of the beach and the cheaper accommodation.”

  “I guess those men were expecting to see a lot of hot, naked babes on the beach. The dancers at the strip club have better bodies,” said Jeff.

  “That’s true. I was looking at the lifeguards and your body is better than any of theirs,” replied Pete.

  Pete managed not to laugh at the stuffed pelicans decorating the Sea Shanty Inn Roadhouse where they had breakfast, but he couldn’t help bursting out into wild cackles at the tacky, pink plastic flamingoes out front of the Resort City Motel. “Oh my God, they’re fucking awesome! What on earth were they thinking?”

  He liked the little beach near the trailer park. Sand dunes half hid it from the walking track, and, because the land shelved steeply and the water was deep close to shore, it was ignored by families. Young people preferred the nudist beach, which left this one for keen swimmers and people wanting peace and quiet.

  “Ahh, perfect. I can see myself here,” said Pete.

  “Tomorrow, we can spend the day on the beach, if you like,” promised Jeff.

  “Sounds like a plan. Tonight, I’ll come into the strip club with you and ask the manager if he’s hiring staff or knows of anywhere else that needs a casual worker,” said Pete.

  “Hamish is the owner. He’s got his finger on the pulse of the community and should be able to tell you whose hiring.”

  *****

  The Howl and Pussy wasn’t looking for staff, and neither were any of Hamish’s contacts. But, friends of friends had a few leads and, over the next few days, Pete followed them all up, his hopes rising time and again, only to be dashed. He was too old, too educated, too expensive. Why hire an adult on a full wage when a sixteen-year-old was much cheaper.

  The rest of the time, they swam and surfed and just hung out together, getting to know each other better. At night, they fucked each other’s brains out in every possible position, and on every surface in Jeff’s home, to their mutual joy and satisfaction.

  Jeff found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with Pete. But what was going to happen if he couldn’t find a job? Jeff knew Pete would never tolerate being a kept man and, he was worried that he’d wake up one morning to find the blond had left him.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, Jeff, Pete, I heard you were looking for work. Don’s looking for people to train as Lifeguards.”

  “Thanks, Sid. I’ll go check it out,” said Pete.

  “He seems quite serious about it, was saying he didn’t have enough people to cover all the shifts, especially during the middle of the day when everyone’s out on the beaches.”

  “Exce
llent, thanks for telling me. I reckon I could learn to do that. I’m a pretty good swimmer.”

  “Change of plans, then,” said Jeff. “Let’s go back home, grab whatever you need and head straight into town.”

  “Absolutely. We can do laundry any time. I hope this one is a real job. I’ve been getting a bit down with the constant rejections.”

  “Yeah, well, kids could be lifeguards, I guess, but likely they’ll be looking for adults who’ve got some brain to go along with the brawn,” said Jeff, smiling and punching Pete’s arm.

  God he hoped so. Not having a job was eating away at Pete, he could tell. Pete was coping well, but every now and then he’d be silent and introspective, and Jeff knew the worry was killing him inside.

  “Don’s a good man, sensible, not an asshole like some of the town people. He’ll treat you fair and say what he needs, not leave you trying to guess,” said Jeff.

  “Necktie and button-down shirt, d’you think, or should I dress a bit more casual?” asked Pete.

  “Go with the necktie. Better to look overdressed than like you don’t care, I reckon.”

  *****

  “Ah yes, Pete. You’re staying with Jeff Daly at the moment. I’ve seen you around town.” Don reached over and shook hands before waving Pete to a seat. “Resort City is becoming ever more popular as a tourist destination, and we need half a dozen more lifeguards, particularly for the midday shift, but other shifts will also be available. I take it you’re a proficient swimmer. Have you worked as a lifeguard previously?”