Rebel_Ballsy Boys 1

by K. M. Neuhold

  “Oh my god, we have to do this,” Rebel says in a giddy tone, grabbing my arm excitedly. “Let’s go sign up right now.”

  “Sure, why not,” I agree. “But you’d better make my drink a double, so I’m drunk enough to do this in a half hour,” I add to the waiter.

  I save our spot while Rebel goes and signs us both up to take our clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers. I guess for him this is no big thing. I’m not exactly body shy myself. I’m more worried I’m going to dance like a spaz or freeze when I see a bunch of eyes on me, or worse yet, suffer the humiliation of not getting any tips.

  Rebel returns a few minutes later, as does the waiter with our drinks. The twink who was dancing on the stage in front of us hops down and makes his way in our direction.

  “Sorry if this is super rude, but are you Rebel?” he asks with hearts and stars in his eyes.

  Rebel gives him a charming smile. “I am, nice to meet you.”

  “This is so cool! My friends are never going to believe I met you. Do you, um, want a lap dance?” he offers with fluttering eyelashes and a cute little blush.

  “Um…”

  Rebel looks over at me like he’s asking for permission, and I bristle a little. “Dude, I’m not your boyfriend, do what you want.”

  There’s a little too much venom in my tone, but the implication that I should have a say in who touches Rebel has my chest tightening and my palms sweating.

  “Sure, I’d love a lap dance.”

  “Oh my god, this is so cool. You can call me Glam, by the way.”

  Glam wastes no time straddling Rebel and working his hips in mesmerizing circles. His hands are all over Rebel’s chest and combing through his hair.

  A flash of something hot and possessive flares in my gut as Rebel smiles at the kid and runs his hands up the back of Glam’s thighs to cup his ass. Apparently, Glam’s not going to enforce the no groping the dancers rule that was posted at the entrance.

  Glam leans close and whispers something in Rebel’s ear that makes Rebel smile and shake his head. What did he ask? Maybe he was asking if Rebel and I are together or if Rebel has a boyfriend.

  I swallow the bile in my throat. What do I care, anyway? Rebel can fuck anyone he wants. He’s a porn star. He fucks people for a living and that doesn’t bother me. And he’s not my boyfriend.

  When an announcement cuts over the music that amateur night is about to start and that all those signed up should claim a stage, I jump up and tap Glam on the shoulder. “Sorry, man, Rebel and I are signed up to dance.”

  “Oh.” Glam’s face falls as he climbs off Rebel’s lap. “If you change your mind, here’s my number.” He slips a piece of paper into Rebel’s pocket, and I have to bite back a growl.

  “You okay?” Rebel asks, clearly noticing the tension vibrating off me.

  “I’m great; let’s get up there and make some money.”

  Rebel and I climb up onto the nearest stage, and immediately, we have a few bachelorette parties and a horde of men gathered around to watch us.

  “Uh, this is a little daunting,” I whisper to Rebel.

  “Just relax and have fun,” he suggests as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it into the crowd.

  I shrug and follow suit, and then we start shaking it to the music. With the strange, hot, territorial feeling still lingering, I reach for Rebel and start to grind up on him like I’m staking a claim in front of the whole club. I run my tongue along his neck, and I hear a cheer go through the small crowd we’ve amassed.

  Rebel’s hips work in perfect time to the beat, and he doesn’t falter as he makes quick work of getting my pants open. He drops into a crouch, tugging my jeans down with him, and then twerks it for the ladies directly behind him.

  Another cheer goes up and money starts landing on the stage. I step out of my pants and kick them over so I have room to move but don’t lose them. Then I help Rebel get his pants off, much less elegantly than he managed for me, but we get the job done.

  I catch sight of Glam beside the stage watching us, and out of sheer pettiness, I grab Rebel and shove my tongue into his mouth, grabbing his ass and pressing our bodies close together as we move to the music.

  We’re met with whistles and cat calls.

  “Not sure we’re supposed to put on a live porn show,” Rebel jokes, giving me one more quick kiss before pulling away.

  In just our briefs, we dance our way toward the edge of the stage and are met with tons of groping hands, trying to shove money into our underwear and stealing a quick grab of our asses and junk when they can manage it. By the time the song ends and we have to give up the stage to the next guys wanting a chance, we’ve made back at least three times what I lost at the casino.

  “Okay, that was fun,” I admit, pulling my pants back on.

  “Hell yeah, it was,” Rebel agrees.

  Our shirts are long gone, so when we leave the club after a few more drinks, we do it with our glistening abs on full display.

  “So, uh, what did Glam ask you?” I blurt as we walk back to the hotel, both more than a little tipsy.

  “What?” Rebel asks, his eyebrows scrunching.

  “When he was giving you the lap dance, he asked you something?”

  “Oh,” Rebel nods. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot. He asked if I wanted to meet up after his shift. I said no thanks.”

  “Oh.” That hot flare hits my gut again. “Did you want to? If you just said no because of me, you can totally call him.”

  “I’m having fun with you, why would I go out of my way to hook up with someone else when I’m enjoying what we’ve got going on?”

  “I guess,” I agree.

  “Now, let’s go see about swimming. I’m all hot and sweaty. I’d love to jump in the pool.”

  We head through the lobby and out back to the pool, which, to my surprise, is completely empty.

  Rebel looks one way and then the other before kicking off his shoes then dropping his pants and underwear. He smirks at me and shoots me a wink over his shoulder before doing a cannonball into the pool. I hurry to follow suit, adding a flip to my jump just to show him up a little.

  “Show off,” Rebel accuses when I break the surface of the water.

  “Don’t be jealous,” I tease and then splash water at his face.

  “Oh, you’re going down.”

  Rebel launches himself at me and we tussle, trying to dunk each other. Until we both become acutely aware of our naked bodies rubbing together and the fact that our dicks are getting very interested in the action.

  “Too bad we don’t have any lube down here with us,” I lament, cupping his balls and then wrapping my hand around Rebel’s fat shaft and giving his a few slow strokes beneath the water. His head falls back, and his lips part on a silent moan.

  “Mmm, guess we’ll have to find another way to entertain ourselves. Or just tease until we get back to the room. A little edging action is always fun,” Rebel says, pinching my nipples and then nibbling along my jaw.

  “I’ve always been too impatient for edging, maybe you’ll have to show me.”

  “I’m not going to say no to that.”

  His lips find mine, and I back Rebel up against the side of the pool. His legs wrap around my waist, my hands moving to his ass, his still playing with my nipples as our tongues meet in a teasing dance.

  I groan into Rebel’s mouth when he flexes his hips, rubbing his hard cock against mine.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs against my lips.

  A throat clears behind us, and we jump apart.

  “What do we have here?” A stern looking security guard stands over us at the edge of the pool. “You two do realize that public indecency is a crime, even in Las Vegas, don’t you?”

  “Oh shit,” I mutter, sure this big dude with a stick up his ass isn’t going to go easy on us.

  “We’re sorry, sir. We got a little carried away,” Rebel apologizes with that charming smile back in place.

  The g
uard glares down at him, and then suddenly his expression changes. “Wait, you’re not…?”

  Rebel’s smile brightens. Damn, does everyone in this town know who Rebel is?

  “I take it you’re a fan?” Rebel asks, straightening up a bit.

  “Uh, yeah, you could say that.” The guard blushes. Then he looks around like he’s making sure no one else is out here. “Listen, I’ll let you off with a warning, but you can’t do this again. There are still rules here, and it’s my job to make sure they’re enforced.”

  “We understand,” Rebel assures him.

  Then he hoists his hard, wet body out of the pool and stands before the security guard stark naked with a semi like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The guard’s eyes widen as he takes in Rebel’s body. Poor guy didn’t even get any warning before Rebel unleashed the beast on him.

  “Do you think...um...could I get an autograph?” he stammers.

  “Sure thing, man.” Rebel claps him on the shoulder. “Do you have a pen? As you can see I don’t exactly have a place to carry one at the moment.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He whips out a pen and a pad of paper. Rebel writes something and signs it with a flourish.

  “Here you go, and thanks for being cool. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll just head up to our room before we get into any more trouble out here.”

  Rebel winks at him, and the guard quivers a little. I stifle a laugh. The guard leaves, and I climb out of the pool as well, and Rebel and I hurry to dress.

  “Well, this was a night for the history books,” Rebel jokes as we ride the elevator up to our room, our jeans sticking to our wet skin. “And it’s not even over yet. I promised to school you in the ways of edging, which means we have a long night ahead of us still.”

  19

  Rebel

  Considering how early we need to be on the road to make it to Colorado tonight, we really should’ve gone to bed earlier. Correct that: gone to sleep earlier. We did go to bed. We just didn’t do a whole lot of sleeping till much later.

  Turned out Troy sucked at edging, so I had to show him again. And again. And then he had to prove to me he’d learned, so he drove me to the brink of insanity before he finally let me come.

  I sigh as I take in my red-shot, small eyes. My hair is such a hot mess, I’m not going anywhere near it until I can take a shower and wash it properly. It will have to wait till we reach Colorado. For now, I just tie it into a sloppy man-bun. It will have to do.

  Troy stumbles into the bathroom, and he doesn’t look much better. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “It’s too early to be up.”

  He looks adorable with his hair sticking up in every direction, and I grab his hand and yank him toward me for a morning kiss. He protests a little, probably because we haven’t brushed yet, but I don’t care. Like a little morning breath is gonna bother me.

  “Morning, sunshine,” I tease him when I’m done thoroughly kissing him.

  I pull him close for a hug, his morning wood poking me. I don’t know if it’s because he’s still half-asleep or what, but he returns my hug with more enthusiasm than usual, and even snuggles close for a bit. I nuzzle his neck. “Want me to take care of that for you?” I ask, sneaking my hand between us to rub his hard cock.

  “Mmm. Would you?” he asks. “You don’t have to, but…”

  I’ve already sunk to my knees, and I free his cock from his boxers. “My pleasure.”

  It takes me less than two minutes before he comes with a deep sigh. He’s messed up my bun, of course, but it was totally worth it.

  “You look like shit,” he says when he gets a good look at me.

  “Wow, that’s some kind of thank you.” I rise off my knees, lick the last remnants of his cum off my lips.

  “Sorry,” he says, then shoots me one of his sexy grins. “Thank you for the blowjob. You look like shit.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror?” I say indignantly. “You don’t look much better, dude.”

  He turns to study himself in the mirror. “I still look twice as good as you.”

  I slap his ass. “Have your eyes checked, man. Nobody looks twice as good as me, not even on my worst day. Now, put on some clothes so we can go downstairs for breakfast, ‘cause I need to mainline some caffeine.”

  Troy halts in his moves. “I figured we’d do a drive thru somewhere for coffee and unhealthy breakfast sandwiches.”

  I walk into the room, grab a T-shirt and a fresh pair of jeans from my weekend bag. “No, I booked a full breakfast for both of us with the room. Figured we’d need the fuel for a whole day of driving.”

  I get dressed quickly, and it doesn’t hit me till I’m putting my socks on that Troy hasn’t responded. I look up to find him watching me with a strange look on his face. It’s not anger. More like...panic?

  “I can’t afford breakfast here,” he says. “I need that money for tuition. It was stupid of me to even gamble with it, and I got lucky I made it back with the stripping thing.” He starts to make a move like he wants to jam his hands into his pockets, but then apparently realizes he’s not wearing pants, so he ends up with clenched fists.

  “That’s okay,” I say carefully, sensing I need to tread lightly here. “I told you this hotel was my treat. That includes breakfast.”

  He doesn’t look reassured. “How much is the breakfast?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. It’s usually between fifteen and twenty bucks in hotels like this.”

  He relaxes a little. “That’s not too bad,” he says. “A coffee and a breakfast sandwich will run you close to eight bucks already.”

  “Twenty bucks each. Not including tip,” I add. I could lie to him, but that will only end up biting me in the ass.

  “For that much money, they’d better serve, like, caviar or something,” he mutters.

  “It’s probably a breakfast buffet,” I say. “Maybe with some fresh options, like waffles or pancakes, or they may have an omelet bar.”

  He finally starts putting on some clothes. “I don’t even know what that is.”

  It’s starting to sink in that this is a whole new experience for him. I travel regularly for Ballsy Boys events, and while we don’t always stay in the most expensive hotels, we’ve outgrown the cheap-ass motel phase. When clients bring us out, for instance for a photoshoot, they need to put us up in respectable hotels. As a result, I’ve stayed in hotels like this all over the country and even in Europe. Troy hasn’t, and that’s probably embarrassing him.

  “It’s like an area where you can gather fresh ingredients for an omelet, or point them out, and they’ll cook a made-to-order omelet for you.”

  “Oh.”

  That one word is filled with so much emotion, it’s almost tangible in the room. What do I do? Do I ignore it to avoid making him feel even more uncomfortable? Or do I address it, try to take away his shame? I opt for the second one, but still choose an indirect approach.

  “Before I started working for Ballsy Boys, I had never stayed at anything more expensive than a Motel 6. My parents were big on camping, so all family vacations were done in tents. We used the cheapest motels my mom would find for things like trips to Disney, or when visiting family in big cities. The first time Bear booked a Marriott for me, I was blown away. I’d never seen a bathroom that big, and I sure as hell never had a bed that size for me alone. And that breakfast… Man, I completely stuffed my face. I get it, Troy. This was new to me as well a few years ago.”

  He sighs. “I’m struggling to keep my head above water, financially. I can’t afford shit like this, but I feel like crap for letting you pay for it.”

  I walk up to him, approaching him like a skittish rabbit. “I get that, but there’s no need to feel guilty. I can afford it. I come from a long and proud tradition of frugal people, so I’ve invested my porn earnings wisely. Trust me, one night here won’t make a dent in my savings. And we had fun, didn’t we?”

  When he doesn’t bolt, I slowly pull him close to me, hug him tightly. He al
lows it, but his body is tense. Maybe I need to distract him a bit. Sex usually seems to work with him, so I lower my hands to his ass.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun with our edging lessons.”

  He harrumphs. “That wasn’t fun. It was hot as hell, but I seriously hated you for a few minutes.”

  “Our striptease, then. That was fun, wasn’t it? Or skinny-dipping in the pool?”

  “We got lucky that guard was a fan of yours,” Troy grumbles, but his voice sounds less upset.

  “Everyone who’s seen me is a fan,” I joke. “Once they’ve seen my cock, they’re hooked.”

  I feel Troy’s face break open in a smile against my cheek. “Don’t forget your long and sexy hands. Pixie could write a sonnet about them, probably.”

  I squeeze those hands around his ass cheeks to demonstrate the accuracy of his statement. “Damn right. Then there’s my mouth…”

  Troy hmms. “That did feel pretty nice wrapped around my cock a few minutes ago.”

  “So, I think we can safely establish you don’t like me for my money, right?” I go in for the kill.

  He freezes for a second, then relaxes again. “No, I don’t,” he says softly.

  He allows me to hug him for a minute or so, before he steps away. “Thank you,” he says.

  I watch him with a warm feeling in my belly. “You’re welcome.”

  20

  Troy

  We pull into the quiet truck stop in the middle of nowhere in either Utah or Colorado...I’m not sure at this point. As the car rolls to a stop, I bolt from the passenger seat, my bladder full to bursting. Rebel is a few seconds behind me into the bathroom, which is exceptionally clean for a truck stop.

  We finish up and turn back to the door to leave, when something catches my eye as I pass a stall with the door swinging open.

  “Hellllo.” I grab Rebel’s arm to stop him.

  He follows my gaze, and at the same moment, we both turn to look at each other. I imagine my expression mirrors his, a little goofy and a lot dirty.