by Greg Herren
Up Colfax Avenue, just a few blocks from the cathedral, Christiano noticed a bar with the brightly colored rainbow flag painted across the outside walls and windows of the place. “The Detour” was painted above the door, and Christiano thought it was the perfect omen, and a good enough reason to stop in for a few moments.
It was dark inside the bar, the only light emanating from the dim swinging overhead lamp above the pool table and from the neon signs above the bar advertising various brands of beer. Smoke wafted up from brightly lit tips of cigarettes dangling from the lips of several heavyset women with short, spiky haircuts, who were draped in oversize flannel shirts and dirty, torn jeans.
Christiano noticed that the whispered conversations grew even quieter as all heads turned toward him. He walked slowly toward the bar, nodding silently at some of the women closer to him as he passed. He was quite aware that he had drawn the attention of every woman in the bar. His black jeans, black button-down shirt, and knee-length black leather trench coat probably made it even harder to be inconspicuous than it would otherwise have been. But the fact that he was well over six feet tall, with creamy-white skin and a head full of dark black hair that was slicked back, probably didn’t help, either.
There were probably thirty women in the bar, and they all watched him in silence as he approached the bar.
“Good evening,” he said as he leaned against the wooden bar.
“Can I help you with something?” the woman behind the bar asked. She was short and stout, with bleached blond spiked hair. She chewed on a piece of gum and puffed on a cigarette at the same time. The sleeves of her flannel shirt had been ripped—not cut—off, exposing several large and elaborate tattoos on her well-muscled arms.
Christiano considered ordering a drink and then thought better of it. “I seem to be lost,” he said, and smiled at the bartender.
“You think?” The woman leaned in closer to Christiano and blew smoke into his face. “I never would have guessed.”
The other women in the bar laughed and slowly returned to their own conversations.
“We’re not impressed with your fancy clothes and your arrogant walk here, mister. I doubt seriously we have what you’re looking for here. Maybe just moving on might be a good idea.”
Christiano glanced around the room, taking stock of the number and size of the women present. He guessed it might take him about ten minutes to kill them all. He’d save the bitch behind the bar for last, of course, making her watch as he flew through the room, snapping some of the women’s heads, stabbing his dagger through the hearts of others, and strangling the rest. As for the bartender, he’d wait until she was paralyzed with fear, and then he’d sink his teeth into her neck and suck every last ounce of blood from her body. It’d take a couple of minutes—long enough for her to realize what was happening, though she would be unable to do anything about it.
But that would cause a scene. One of the women might escape through one of the two doors that led outside. And even if that didn’t happen, someone could walk in right in the middle of the massacre and could run for help. Then it’d all be over. His first night in Denver would end disastrously, with a barrage of police and reporters. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Besides, he didn’t have a taste for women anyway.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Christiano said. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to point me in the right direction, would you? Perhaps an establishment with a larger…male clientele.”
“Couple blocks just up the street. A little pansy bar called Charlie’s. Plenty of nicely trimmed weenies and shaved white asses there, if that’s what you’re into.”
“Precisely. Thank you for your assistance.”
Christiano turned around and walked toward the back of the bar, to the door he’d entered. Several of the women snickered as he passed by them. When he got to the door, he turned and looked back at the woman who’d disgraced him. Even from this distance, a good fifty feet, and through the dark and the smoke, he could read her name tag. Sheila was her name. If he didn’t find what he was looking for at Charlie’s, he might just come back here and feed on her even though he didn’t like the taste of women. It’d be worth it to kill her just for the joy of it, and for her being such a bitch.
Christiano tipped an imaginary hat toward Sheila and exited the bar.
Charlie’s was a little better but, from what Christiano could see upon his arrival, not a whole lot better. It, too, had a small-town, honky-tonk feel to it. It seemed Denver thrived on that particular atmosphere. The wooden decor and smoke-filled entry were unpleasant. To the left of the entry were a couple of pool tables, and to the right was a coat check. Just beyond the door was a large bar that greeted customers as soon as they passed the entry and the staff members who checked your ID and made sure you weren’t carrying a weapon.
Beyond the bar and to the left was a small dance floor and another, smaller bar. This dance floor was filled with young yuppie guys in various states of dress and undress, dancing maniacally to a loud bass beat. Sweat poured from their faces as they jerked their heads from side to side and jumped up and down. From his vantage point several feet away, Christiano could see their faces clearly. Most of them had their eyes closed and were smiling deliriously. The rest had their eyes open and were staring with empty gazes ahead of themselves, into thin air.
Christiano thought for a moment about choosing his prey from the group of skinny young men who were sweating and dancing in this bar. But the taste of their blood would be bitter and acrid from all the drugs. He decided to move on.
To the right of the main bar were a glass partition and a glass door. Beyond them Christiano could see another bar, packed full with a slightly older and slightly more dressed crowd of men. He walked past a group of men who watched his every move, through the glass door, and into the larger, less smoky room. This part of the bar was filled past its legal capacity with guys dressed in jeans, button-down shirts, and cowboy boots. Country music blasted from large speakers spread throughout the room. A mirrored cowboy boot disco ball hung from the ceiling over the center of the larger dance floor. The air reeked with a mixture of various sweet-fragranced colognes, sweat, and alcohol. The men all stood tall, with their chests puffed and pushed out in front of them. They scoped one another out with an eagle’s eye. It didn’t take long for Christiano to feel hundreds of eyes boring in on him.
He walked to the back of the room and leaned against the door that led out to the patio. Several men in their late thirties or early forties approached him and tried to strike up small talk with him. Christiano was not attracted to middle-aged men with thick mustaches or chests filled with matted hair, and so he dismissed them politely.
After an hour, Christiano was just about to give up and move on. Then he noticed him. The boy couldn’t have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five years old. He was standing in a group of similarly aged and similar-looking young men on the far end of the dance floor. He and his friends were drinking and laughing and watching the older men dancing two-step on the dance floor a few feet away.
Christiano focused his vision on the young man, and the friends around him blurred into Christiano’s peripheral vision. The young man was tall and thin, with wavy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. When he smiled or laughed, his entire face lit up, and giant dimples popped out on either side of his full, pink lips. He’d been wearing a white T-shirt earlier but had taken it off and stuck it inside the waist of his blue jeans. His torso was thin but well-defined. He sported a marble-smooth and perfectly proportioned chest with dime-sized nipples that were hard and dark brown. The washboard abs drank in the sweat that dripped down his chest and tummy, and flexed involuntarily as the young man laughed.
From where he stood, easily fifty feet away, Christiano could smell the kid’s scent. It was sweet and clean and strong. And it made Christiano crazy with lust. His heart raced, and his cock stirred in his pants. Christiano knew at once that he had to have this young man.
His eye
s bored in on the blond guy across the room, and then he waited. It didn’t take long. A few seconds later, the young man turned his head in Christiano’s direction. Christiano raised his glass and smiled. The kid smiled back and brushed several stray strands of hair from his face. His movements seemed to be in slow motion, and when he raised his arms, Christiano noticed the flexing biceps and dark brown patch of hair under the kid’s armpits. Again he could smell the boy’s scent: strong and masculine and confident.
Come here, Christiano whispered in his own head, without moving his lips.
The boy cocked his head to one side and looked perplexed. He glanced around him from side to side and then behind him. He shrugged his shoulders and then returned his gaze to Christiano.
Come to me, Christiano repeated.
The blond kid set his drink down and excused himself from his friends. He began walking toward Christiano, stopping only a couple of times to stop and kiss one guy on the cheeks and to shake hands and chat for a short moment with another acquaintance. Then he set his eyes on Christiano and walked steadily to him.
“Good evening,” Christiano said as the boy approached him.
“Hey,” the kid said, and stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Just trying to get my bearings,” Christiano said. “It’s my first night in Denver, and I’m afraid I’m a little lost.”
“Lost, huh?” the blond boy said. He looked around him to make sure their conversation wasn’t being overheard. “What exactly is it that you’re looking for?”
“A little company.”
“Company, huh? Like an escort?”
“Not exactly,” Christiano said. “I don’t usually pay for the company of another man.”
“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t, either. But I’m not really a man, now, am I? I’m really just a boy.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned sheepishly as he blinked his eyelashes seductively. “A boy who is willing and able to do pretty much anything you want. Do you get my drift?” the young man whispered. He looked around him again, nervously.
“Yes, I believe I do. And just how old are you?”
“How old do you want me to be?”
Christiano looked down at the kid and raised his eyebrows.
“All right, all right. I’m twenty-three. But keep that between you and me, okay? Some of the guys in here like to believe I’m seventeen or eighteen.”
“Just between us,” Christiano said as he crossed his heart. “And also just between us: twenty-three makes you a man and not a little boy.”
“I get it. So you’re not going to pay?”
“No.”
“That’s cool, I guess. Wanna get outta here anyway? I’ve done pretty good tonight. I suppose I could give it up for free just this once. Just for you.”
“How thoughtful,” Christiano said. As if you had a choice, he thought to himself. As if you ever had a chance. You poor boy.
“Let me go say good-bye to my friends,” the boy said as he started to walk away.
“No,” Christiano said, and grabbed the boy’s arm. “They will get the idea when you don’t return.”
The kid looked up into Christiano’s eyes, and for a brief moment he looked afraid. Then his eyes softened, and he nodded his head.
Christiano smiled and led the boy to the front door.
“Do you have a place we can go?” The boy was anxious and looking around him in every direction.
“No,” Christiano said. “I mean, I do, but it’s not very convenient.”
“I hear ya,” the boy said. “Wife wouldn’t be real thrilled with the idea of watching another guy fuck her husband, huh?”
“You are quite crude, aren’t you? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean to be such an ass.” He squeezed his crotch and danced around Christiano. “I’m just horny as fuck. And you’re really turning me on.”
“You’ve already had sex a couple of times tonight, and you’re still horny?”
The kid smiled. “I’m twenty-three.”
“Right.”
“So what do you say? We could go to my friend’s car. It’s just right over there,” he said, and pointed to a car at the end of the parking lot. He jingled the keys in front of Christiano’s face.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Once inside the car, the young man wasted no time in unbuckling Christiano’s belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He began unbuttoning Christiano’s shirt as well, then became impatient and ripped the shirt open, popping buttons in every direction. He leaned Christiano’s seat back and pulled Christiano’s cock out of his jeans.
“Wow, dude,” he said as he wrapped his fist around the girth of Christiano’s quickly hardening cock. “This is fucking awesome!”
“I’m glad you approve,” Christiano said as he felt the warmth of the kid’s mouth surround his cock.
“Approve?” the kid said as he pulled his mouth from the now swollen dick. “It’s outta this world. I don’t think I can take it all.”
“Try,” Christiano said as he held the young man’s head in one hand and pressed slowly downward.
The young blond boy sucked Christiano’s cock for several minutes. Several times he had to stop and take a couple of deep breaths.
Christiano thought the sloppy cocksucker might not be able to finish, but before too long, he felt the inevitable signs of his pending climax. His balls began to shrink up, and the familiar tingling started at the base of his cock and worked its way slowly up his hard shaft.
“That’s it,” Christiano said as he panted and held the boy’s head deep onto his cock. “I’m gonna shoot.”
The kid moaned loudly and sucked harder on Christiano’s cock. He wrapped his hand around the thick cock and slid it up and down the veiny shaft.
A couple of seconds later, Christiano’s body tightened up, and he moaned. The young guy sucking his cock also moaned, and his grip on Christiano’s throbbing cock tightened.
Christiano’s body convulsed for several seconds and then lay limp on the passenger’s seat.
“How was it?” the blond asked as he shifted himself in the seat and wiped at his mouth.
“Incredible,” Christiano said. He leaned forward to kiss the young man on the lips.
The boy leaned back. “Sorry, I’m not really into kissing strangers.”
“That’s all right.”
“But my cock is fucking harder than a rock. I gotta get off, man. Will you suck me, too?”
“Oh, I will definitely suck you,” Christiano said. “Lie back.”
The young man shuffled around in the seat and switched places with Christiano. He lay back in the seat and shoved his jeans down his legs and to his ankles. His cock throbbed against his belly.
Christiano looked at the dick for a moment and deliberated with himself. It was long and thin. White skin stretched across it and highlighted the thick, blue veins that snaked around it. A tiny drop of precum leaked from the head and glistened there a moment before dripping down the hard shaft. It was a nice cock, and Christiano wanted to suck on it until it was spent.
But he was hungry. As much as he wanted to enjoy this young man, he needed to feed even more. Time was running out.
“Come on, dude. Suck my dick,” the young boy said as he repositioned his body in the front seat.
“Later,” Christiano answered. “First I want to kiss your neck.”
“Look, dude, I told you I’m not into kissing. I just want you to suck me.”
“Don’t worry. I will. Just lie back and relax.”
The kid sighed deeply, then relaxed in the seat.
Christiano leaned forward and kissed the cool, sweaty neck. He licked it for several moments and then clamped his mouth across the jugular vein. The boy moaned loudly, and his body twitched a couple of times. Christiano knew the kid was getting into it, and smiled to himself. As much of a fight as they initially put up, they always eventua
lly begged for more. He knew it wouldn’t be any different this time.
“Oh, man, you’re fucking getting me all hot and shit,” the young man said as he bucked underneath Christiano. “Keep sucking my neck, dude. It feels incredible.”
Christiano sucked for a moment longer and then opened his mouth enough so that the lips around his now protruding teeth could slink back. He took a deep breath and then sank his canine teeth deep into the kid’s neck and across his jugular vein.
“Owww!” the kid yelped. “What the hell?”
Christiano sucked hard as his teeth pushed deeper and deeper into the kid’s neck. The first wave of blood that flooded into his mouth was warm and sweet. Christiano moaned loudly and sucked more of it into his mouth. He closed his eyes as the warm sweetness slid past his tonsils and down his throat.
“Stop it, man,” the boy yelled, and tried to push his hands against Christiano’s chest and push him away. “That hurts, dude. Stop it!”
The feel of the young man’s hands against his chest and the struggle the boy was putting up only fueled Christiano’s desire. The boy bucked up against Christiano, wiping his sweat against the smooth skin of Christiano’s own naked torso. Christiano could feel the cool sweat against his skin, and his own cock began to throb back to life. The boy’s cock, which was long and hard and throbbing just a moment ago, was quickly shrinking and losing its hardness.
“Please don’t,” the boy pleaded as he realized he was nowhere near strong enough to overpower this man on top of him. “I’m sorry.”
Christiano continued sucking the blood from the boy’s neck and wondered what the boy was sorry for. Not that it mattered. The body beneath him began to lose its strength, and the struggle became much less powerful. Christiano reached between his own body and the boy’s and pinched the boy’s nipples. Another moan escaped the boy’s mouth, and Christiano smiled to himself. Even in a moment of pain and confusion, the young kid recognized his own arousal.
