by Ben Ryder
I waited as long as I could before taking the microphone again, hoping the girls had enough time to change.
“Gentlemen! Once again we want to thank every one of you for taking the time to come out and see us tonight!” I could hear some kind of chant growing louder from the back of the room. “We at Side Line also have some great news for you all!”
The chant progressed forward through the crowd and became louder and clearer. “Girls, girls, girls.” “Guys, please, if I can I have your attention for a moment,” I said, holding up a palm to try and quiet the crowd. “We have some great news that we don’t want you to miss.”
“BRING BACK THE GIRLS! BRING BACK THE GIRLS! BRING BACK THE GIRLS!” The chant had changed halfway across the room. It didn’t sound like a good-humored request, but rather more like a demand.
“Guys, please, if I can please have your attention for a moment.” I slapped the microphone with the palm of my hand, sending three muffled bangs out of the speakers. The noise dissolved in my ears as the chanting subsided. I looked behind me and saw Jackie at the back of the box, nodding. I turned back to the crowd.
“Side Line wants to have the chance to sponsor a cause dear to your hearts. If I can ask you all to look toward the back bar.” All heads turned. I whipped my head around while the crowd was distracted and saw Jackie leading the girls away. “Can you see on the bar in the back there are pens and slips of paper? We want you take a moment to jot down the name of an organization that helps support veterans.”
A group of men near the front of the stage was following the girls with their eyes as they left the box to walk around the back wall. I tapped the microphone again and stared down at them, making it clear I was watching them.
“Side Line beer has agreed to make a substantial donation to various charitable funds. So whether it’s placing a working dog with an injured veteran or organizations that support veterans’ families during their deployments, the money will go to good use.”
Heads nodded, and it seemed my words were appreciated. Gradually, the atmosphere began to shift.
“But we need your help, guys. Please give us your suggestions tonight so Side Line can begin the process of helping those in need and supporting military families who need assistance.”
There was applause. It was enthusiastic but a little somber. Our attempt to give the girls a chance to get to the back and tame the frenzy we caused seemed to have worked.
I stepped off the stage and made my way to the back of the bar just as the club started playing its regular music again. I leaned against the doors with the girls in front of me and watched Jackie walk over to the bar owners. The girls were beaming and looked energized, with massive smiles on their faces. I was a little confused at first, but then realized that they hadn’t seen the fight over the bra and were only concentrated on their performance, so they only saw a sea of men who appreciated their efforts.
“Girls, great job,” I said, smiling so as not to scare them. “But I think these guys are getting a little full-on tonight. For the rest of the night, you are to stay behind the bar and hand out the rest of the beer sparingly. Please don’t engage in too much conversation over the bar, and work in pairs.”
Jackie returned and took over, smiling. “Girls, the owner has just brought in some soft drinks for you all. Have a quick break, and then we’ll head back out.” She turned to Nikki. “Since we girls are an odd number, I will be working with you.”
The girls headed off into a back room, and the smile dropped from Jackie’s face. “What the hell did we expect?” she asked, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. “We’ve been turning them on all week. Of course they were going to become rowdy.”
“This isn’t our usual crowd, though, Jacks. Usually these gigs are one-off and hardly ever have the same people night after night.”
Jackie slapped her palm against her head. “We should never have thrown the bras out.” “It seemed like a good idea when we talked about it earlier. The reaction was just stronger than we imagined.” I pulled the cigarette out of her hand and took a drag. “It was scary to watch, though, huh?”
Jackie nodded slowly. “The owner has been an absolute dream, but then again I suppose he doesn’t want any trouble either.”
“Do you want to call it a night?” I asked. Jackie pondered this for a moment. “Do you think we’re overreacting? I mean, they are all highly disciplined military men. I can’t imagine they would cause a ruckus.” She took another puff of her cigarette. “But then again, if anything did get out of hand, we’d be next to useless trying to control it.”
“How do the girls feel about it?” “They’re all fine. They’re having a great time. I think it’s the most appreciative audience they’ve ever played to, so they feel like stars.”
“Okay, how about we have them stay behind the bar for twenty minutes so we don’t just disappear immediately? They should be okay there. Then we’ll get the owner to grab us taxis to meet us in the back and leave early.”
Jackie mulled it over for a moment before she agreed. She joined the girls to explain the plan of action, while I returned to the bar with a smile on my face. I mingled with the guys as much as I could to gauge the atmosphere. But whatever Jackie and I thought we felt seemed to have dissipated. The crowd was still in high spirits, but the overall demeanor was calm.
The squad filed out to the bar to another round of cheers from the soldiers. I watched from the public side of the bar as the girls handed beers to guys who obviously were pleased to see them again, but didn’t look like they posed any threat. I shook off my caution a bit and leaned over the bar to Jackie to tell her that everything seemed to have calmed down.
Just as I was about to speak, I saw an arm reach across the bar and firmly take hold of Emma’s elbow. I raced forward, knocking two guys out of my way before snatching the hand off Emma and pushing its owner back into the crowd. Only then did I recognize that it was Brandon, the tall Navy SEAL we’d met at the beach the day before.
Understanding that he was probably just trying to get Emma’s attention, I held my palms up in apology for my overreaction. His friend, however, who I didn’t recognize, took my reaction as hostile. He shoved me, and my back slammed into the bar. He raised an arm. Instinctively, I leaned away from the blow, but his clenched fist still careened off the side of my head. My ears started to ring instantly. I turned to assess where the next punch would come from, but suddenly felt my body being forcibly thrown to one side by a single strong hand. A huge balled fist shot past my face; there was a flash of an anchor. One of the girls screamed behind me as I saw Damon’s fist crash into Brandon’s face and then, without skipping a beat, onto the nose of his friend who had struck me.
The crowd parted as the club’s security guards stampeded toward the bar. Arms were thrown around shoulders like straitjackets, and we were all pulled out the door and pushed onto the sidewalk.
I threw my arms up before another punch could be thrown. “Calm down!” I shouted as Brandon got on his feet and took a step toward Damon, who was examining the blood dripping from his knuckles. Jackie flew out the door and stood between all of us like a referee at a boxing match.
“Simmer down, boys,” she said calmly as her eyes darted between each of us. “Let’s not get out of hand. I am sure your superiors would rather not pick you up from a jail cell tonight.”
Her words seemed to hit home, and everyone backed off. “Jackie, get the girls in a cab and back to the hotel.”
“Already done. The cab was waiting for them when this all kicked off. I’ve sent them on ahead.” I looked at Damon’s hand and put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked back and drew himself up to full height. I turned to the other two lads. “Look, guys, we don’t want any trouble. Brandon, I saw a hand grab for one of the girls, and I reacted. It’s as simple as that. If I’d seen it was you, I wouldn’t have jumped the gun so much. That was my fault, and I apologize.”
Brandon’s anger showed through gritted teet
h and a throbbing vein in his neck. “Yeah, but it doesn’t excuse this prick!”
Damon moved forward, but Jackie countered his move and slammed a palm on his chest to hold him back. Damon sneered at Brandon. “I just floored both of you fuckers! You want to go again?”
“Look, mate, it’s my job to protect those girls, and he was just helping me out,” I said, also standing between them. “Jackie’s right. Do you guys really want to explain this tonight to whomever you answer to? Let it go.” They looked at each other once again and seemed to weigh what I was saying. “Look, free drinks all night on Tuesday night for you and whoever you bring along if we can all just let this go.”
Brandon spat blood onto the curb. Pinching his nose to stem the blood flowing from his nostrils, he nudged his friend, and they sulked down the street.
“Jackie, would you take Damon back to the hotel so we can patch him up before he heads back to the barracks?” I asked, passing her my room key. “I just have to make nice with the club owner.”
I ARRIVED back at the hotel to find Jackie halfway through bandaging Damon’s wrist. The hotel’s first aid kit lay open, with small empty packets of antiseptic wipes strewn across the table. The tops of Damon’s knuckles had been wiped clean and bore small cuts that, considering the amount of blood that I had seen, didn’t appear to be as bad as I expected.
“It seems our young warrior here has injured his wrist while defending young Emma’s honor,” Jackie said as she carefully secured the bandage with medical tape. She eyed him up and down. “And might I just add, what a magnificent display of brutality it was!” She winked at Damon.
“How are the girls?” “Oh, darling they’re fine. Emma was a little shaken, but once I explained what happened, she was delighted that you jumped to her defense,” Jackie said, returning the tape to the first aid kit. “All the girls are with her now sharing a cheeky bottle of wine in her room.”
“And are you okay?” I asked.
“My love, I wasn’t the one dodging punches, was I? I am absolutely fine.” “Why don’t you go and join the girls, Jacks? I can finish off here and get Damon back on his way.”
Jackie rose from her seat and gave me one of her allknowing smiles before she turned and knelt to give Damon a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, young man. You’re our hero,” she said, looking quite small next to his large frame.
Jackie waltzed out the door, slowly closing it behind her as though she was sneaking out of the room without making a noise. I emptied the remains of the ice bucket into a hand towel, twisted off the ends, and put the makeshift ice pack onto Damon’s knuckles. I sat in the chair across from him and applied a little pressure onto the towel. He winced.
“Thank you,” I said with all sincerity.
“No problem,” Damon replied flatly.
“I’m sorry about the other night, calling you up on stage.”
“Why? You made me look good in front of my buddies,” he said, still in an even voice.
I removed the towel to see if the swelling had gone down, but his knuckles still looked enflamed and puffy. “I’ll run downstairs and grab you a cab back to the barracks,” I said, fumbling with the medical tape. “Will you get in trouble if you’re back late?”
“I don’t have a curfew tonight. It’s one of only two nights this week that we’re free from it.”
“Oh, okay. In that case, do you want me to ask the hotel to call a doctor to check this hand out?” It was the first time he smiled that evening. His face softened, even if the tone of his voice didn’t. “No, I think it’s okay. I’ve done a lot worse to myself and lived to tell about it.”
“I’m sure you have.” Damon looked down. A smattering of dried blood was matted in the blond hairs on his forearm.
“Do you want to wash off before you head back? You look in a bit of a state.”
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
“Can I get you a drink? I think there are some whiskey miniatures in the minibar.”
“Anything but whiskey,” he said, grimacing. Damon got up and walked to the bathroom. I heard water running as I searched the room for a glass that Jackie and I hadn’t used before we left. Expecting that Damon was only washing his arm in the sink, I walked into the bathroom to find him shirtless with his belt buckle unhitched. His free arm was extended, testing the temperature of the water in the shower and I noticed he had a star tattooed on the front side of each shoulder.
“Clean glass,” I said as I reached across the sink to grab the tumbler that sat behind the tap.
His shirtless upper body was even more magnificent than I had imagined. He didn’t have the typical dream muscle body that was worked and sculptured to perfection in a gym. His was a body that had been earned through hard, masculine work. His wide lats and thick back were shaped from years of carrying heavy military packs for countless miles. His arms bulged from lifting duffle bags from camp to camp. His shoulders were rounded and cut from supporting the strap of a heavy firearm. His lean, tapered abdominals were covered with light blond hair that ran down toward his belt. His massive chest, cut from demanding drills from screaming commanders in training, held a tattoo on his left pectoral muscle that was covered with light brown chest hair. It looked like an eagle with splayed wings sitting on a globe and an old-fashioned anchor running through it. Above, in italic writing, it read Semper Fi.
After stealing a lingering gaze, I returned to the room and poured the vodka. Since the ice bucket was empty, I headed out into the hall to the ice machine. When I returned I could hear the intermittent splash of water hitting the bottom of the bathtub. The door was slightly ajar, so when I walked past, I got a glimpse of him, one bandaged hand stretched out of the shower while the other ran a soapy washcloth over his body. I stopped and watched for a moment, like the same peeping Tom I was as a kid staring at Jamie in the school shower.
Damon’s body was tanned and golden down to his hips until a white box of flesh showed where he wore his shorts. The white lather from the soap ran down his stomach and off his cock, as thick flaccid as it was hard, like a thick stream of bubbly white piss. With one arm still outside the shower, he turned to rinse his back. His skin glistened under the water, apart from a jagged scar that ran about eight inches vertical from his shoulder blade. I followed the trail of water as it cascaded off his high, round ass and fell like a waterfall from the bottom of his plump muscular cheeks. I was so strongly aroused that shakes replaced my hard-on. I felt as though my brain was filling with blood instead of my cock. I sat at the small desk in the room and waited to hear the water stop.
When Damon emerged from the bathroom, a white towel was wrapped around his waist, and he carried his bundle of clothes, which he dropped on the floor next to the bed. The air conditioning hit his hot flesh and the residual water on his skin began to rise in steam.
“Semper fi?” I asked, pointing to his tattoo. “Always faithful,” he said, placing his palm to his chest like he was covering his heart or about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Personal or military motto?”
“Both,” he replied.
I sat back on the chair and took a sip of vodka. Damon walked over to me and stopped in front of my knees. Unclipping the knot, he let the towel fall to the floor with a damp thud. He stood with his hands to his sides, presenting his cock to me as it began to swell. My gaze traveled up his body until they met his. He towered above me and looked down, nodding to his cock as if to give me permission to begin.
I didn’t move. I remained stoic and unbothered by his exposure. His face changed to a mixture of confusion and impatience. What was I waiting for? Didn’t I owe him for his act of heroism at the bar? Or was he confused why I wouldn’t be acting a little more grateful to have the chance to take him in my mouth? We stared at each other like two cats down an alleyway. He eventually broke his stare and bent over to pick up his towel.
I truthfully was grateful to him, but I wasn’t about to suck his dick as a reward. I felt like I needed to
delay his pleasure and quash his vanity for a moment to make him understand that, unlike last time, sex was about two people, not just one. I wanted him, probably more than he wanted me. But I wanted us to have sex, not just him being serviced and getting what he wanted. As he reached for his towel, I knew that this little game of cat-and-mouse would eventually lead him to get dressed and walk out the door.
I caved. Like I knew I would. I wanted him too much. I moved off the chair and dropped to my knees, my head bowed in an accidental show of subservience to his cock. I ran my hands up the sides of his thick thighs and around to his ass, still clammy from his shower. His muscled cheeks tensed and hardened like covered stone. I kneaded the flesh of his ass with my fingers slowly until they began to relax, only to feel them tense again as I took his cock deep into my throat.
“That’s it, buddy,” Damon said. I varied the speed and intensity, but I soon learned what he enjoyed the most by way of his fingers tightening his grip on my hair. I pulled my fingers down over his scrotum like a reverse claw from an arcade grab machine. This must have been a new trick to him, as he began to sound like he was attempting to catch his breath from the pleasure. His whole body showed signs of his heightened arousal. His fingers worked furiously into my hair. His abdominal muscles tightened and relaxed with every thrust into my mouth, and his face and neck became flushed, like he was holding off coming too soon.
The knuckles of his injured hand began to swell again. The tight bandages on his wrist caused the veins of his forearm to fill with blood until they were raised under his skin, giving him the look of a boxer fresh from a fight.
He moved us onto the bed, where he lay on his back and waited for me to strip to my briefs and get into position. I turned off the main light and switched on the two bedside lamps, focusing the intimacy in the room solely on the bed. I got onto one elbow and began sucking his cock and tugging lightly at his balls. My occasional involuntary groans were met with exaggerated exhales from him as my moan vibrated in my throat and onto his cock.
