Alien Culture

The Alien Culture Project, part 12 by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.

Reed sat at the dimly-lit Sparta bar, trying to spot Chance. He really had to squint, as Sparta was a fairly dark club, lit only by strips of neon here and there, strings of twinkle-lights, and candles on the tables that fringed one side of the dance floor. He had waited out front for a while, but he felt sort of stupid just hanging out on the street. Hell, Chance was a big boy: if he didn't see Reed out front, he'd be sure to come in. So he sat nursing a drink and chatting with the bartender, while he waited. The club was already three-quarters full of some of the most gorgeous boys in the city. The music was thumping, and the dance floor was already crowded. Reed was almost breathless, he was so antsy to see his boyfriend - especially to see him in this scene, such a major part of Reed's social life. Clubbing with that wild, sexy, young stud could only be cool.

Just when he thought he should maybe go back outside to check for Chance, his eyes caught sight of something electrifying. There at the door, back turned to him, was the hottest-looking boy he'd ever seen. A total young muscle-stud, even better built than Chance, he thought. And dressed and groomed to fucking kill. Dude had a buzz cut that was perfect: it looked like three- or four-day beard growth had spread out and covered his head, just the way Reed liked it. He felt his own dick swell as he thought about licking that hard-body's head all over, then feeling that sexy stubble scratching down between his legs. Fuck, would that be hot! And this hot-boy's outfit! Shit. Reed began to think maybe this was a young film star or something, here on location, cause he had never seen fashions this sexy. It was denim, but cut in some incredibly expensive, had-to-be-European way. The clothes seemed tailor-made; they hugged the gorgeous stud's upper body and cupped his incredible ass. The jacket and T were cut short, so his perfectly sculpted lower back was boldly displayed. And that sweet patch of flesh went on forever, cause the jeans were very low-riding, leaving a mouth-watering inch or so of ass-cleavage on gorgeous, knee-weakening display. It got Reed very hard, that deep crack between those hard, luscious globes. Reed gulped some of his scotch and soda, to relieve a mouth gone suddenly dry with lust, and thought about burying his tongue all up in that sexy ass. This guy's ass was even better than Chance's - harder, rounder, fuller.

Fuck, this was the kind of dude that was going to seriously test his relationship with his new boyfriend. He didn't want to be unfaithful to Chance, ever, but about thirty feet away, chatting with the doorman, was a stud that made Chance look like a kind of rough draft. This dude was serious perfection. Reed was too tempted; he knew he'd have to flirt with him. And why the fuck not, Reed thought though indignantly, as he felt his dick harden further for this major stud who, he saw, was turning so many heads: Chance had spent the past few days of his new gay life fucking any built young guy he wanted; didn't Reed get to play around outside the relationship, too?

Reed sipped a little more scotch as he watched this breath-taking boy. His testosterone started churning up wonderful sex fantasies. Damn, he thought wickedly, what if he and this dude really did hook up? What if he got involved in a furtive affair with him, and then realized he preferred him over Chance? Odds were pretty good of that, cause this stud made Chance - sexy as he was - seem like a grade-schooler. Ooooh, that sexy buzzed head was sooo perfect, and that hard, ripe ass. Those huge legs, so much harder and bulkier than Chance's, he could tell from just looking. And this Euro-stud's shoulders were way broader. Oh fuck, was he ever hard for this guy. He could hardly wait till he turned aroun -

Reed thought people only actually did those goofy comic spit-takes in the movies, but as soon as his dream-stud turned, caught his eye, and waved, Reed spit out the rest of his mouthful of scotch in utter disbelief.

"Hey, man! I made it!" Chance yelled excitedly across the bar-space, after paying his cover (and getting a nice ass-rub from the doorman, which caused Chance to turn around and grin). As he strode over to his lover, hurriedly, Chance couldn't help but notice the weird expression on Reed's face. Like he was pissed or something. Shit, what time was it? How late was he?

He got up close to his lover, gave him a quick kiss, and then looked a little hang-dog at Reed's gaping stare.

"Shit, man, sorry if I'm late, but it's so fuckin' good to see you. Damn, you look hot. Hell, Reed, I wish we could fuck right now," he said as he stroked Reed up and down: leather pants, see-through shirt, some kinda cool-ass metal stud belt, and hair perfectly gelled. And small silver earrings, which looked very sexy on Reed.

But Reed was still looking pissed. Chance couldn't understand this.

"Dude, what is it? What'd I do?"

"Holy fucking fuck," Reed stammered, thawing into utter passion for his hot young lover. "I was just in some XXX-rated fantasy about how I was gonna leave you for this way finer-ass stud who'd just walked in the club," Reed shook his head in confusion, "and then it turns out YOU"RE the way finer-ass stud!"

Chance smiled sheepishly and rubbed his head. "You mean the hair, right? Looks great, huh? I got it cut this afternoon after you left."

"I sorta figured that, dude. But it's not just the hair, which looks sexy as hell, you fucker. I mean, look at those fucking incredible clothes you're wearing! Shit, Chance, I thought you said you were gonna wear jeans and a T-shirt? We had a bet, remember?"

Chance unbuttoned his jacket, stripped it off, and tried to look innocent. His perfectly-chiseled physique, clad in these supremely sexy clothes, was already attracting leers and finger-pointing from most of the boys around them.

"I did, Reed! This is that COLT shirt you gave me and these are a pair o' my old jeans!"

Reed was back to his dumb-founded look again. How could Chance look so incredibly hot in just jeans and a T? Into his mind popped the description of a young Englishwoman from a Henry James novel he'd read for English Lit last year: "She looked more dressed, often, with fewer accessories, than other women." Fuck if that wasn't true of Chance: only an impossibly gorgeous young hunk like him could show up every other GQ wanna-be in the club wearing just jeans and a T. But what, how . . .

"What'd you do, man, sit in a hot tub all afternoon to get those clothes to shrink-wrap onto your body?"

"Nah," Chance laughed. His face settled into a broad beam: he knew he had won their bet; he could just feel Reed's lips playing up and down on his hard dick later tonight as they settled up. And he knew Reed could, too. "I think they just fit me a little better than maybe you thought they would. You know, my momma always said I had a good body for clothes. 'Anything looks good on you,' she always used to tell me."

Suddenly, two cute, bubbly young boys ran up to them.

"You've GOT to let us know," they said, brazenly stroking Chance up and down. "I say Andrew MacKenzie, he says Gaultier. WHO are you wearing, dude? You look un - fucking - believable!"

"It's Mai Tran," Chance said. "She's got a shop right off campus. 'Tran's Tailor.' She's really cool, check her out. She knows how to dress hip guys, believe me."

The two boys thanked Chance and backed away, wanted to savor his looks as long as they could. One of the boys whispered to the other, pointed, and they laughed.

"So anything looks good on you, huh?" Reed sneered sarcastically.

But Reed was too blown away by how incredible his gorgeous stud lover looked to be mad at how Chance'd out-foxed him. Life with Chance was the wildest of rides. Well, if he's gonna be the hottest-looking guy in the club, it's not too shabby that you're the guy he's going home with. He reached around and pulled Chance to him, kissing him hotly while his fingers played in that tantalizing ass-crack.

"Let me fucking look at you," he said, misty-eyed at this boy's masculine perfection, now clothed in the hottest of outfits.

"Your hair is incredible. I can't tell you what a turn-on a buzz cut like that is for me. I want you to rub it all over my body later - my nipple, my stomach, my thigh, my cock, everywhere. Damn!" He rubbed it sensuously with both hands, while kissing Chance deeply. Then he pulled back and eyed Chance up and down, letting one hand play across those hard, ripe pec's, brushing the stiff little nipples, standing out so clearly from a shirt that looked like it was spray-painted on. With his other hand, he sensuously stroked those lean, cut abs, delightfully on view thanks to his tailored T. His fingers wandered down to feel the newly-groomed pubic stubble, now teasingly shown off by his radically low-riding jeans. He pulled the waistband even lower. "Damn, you shaved again down there, dude! Shit, you look even hotter!"

Chance just stood there, a little embarrassed, but loving the feel of Reed's fingers playing so close to the base of his cock. He looked around and saw how many guys around the bar were drinking in this show of hot, sexy boy-lust.

"Damn, Chance, I thought I was supposed to be the male model. You're about the sexiest stud I have ever seen. You're like the hottest gay porn come to life. Fuck this club, let's go straight home and get naked. I am so fucking hard for you, I can't stand it."

Chance pulled his lover close, rubbed his crotch into Reed's stiffness, and cupped his lover's sensuous, leather-clad ass. He leaned close and whispered wetly in his ear, "Shit, man. you know you got me whenever you want me. But let's stay a little longer; I gotta do my part for the 'Alien Culture' project remember?"

"'Alien Culture,' my Aunt Fanny! This culture is about as alien to you as a rim job. Pretty fucking much 'Second-Nature Culture' by now, I'd say. In fact, you just about own this club tonight. You got more dudes drooling after you than a twink in a prison yard. All right, Junior, we'll stay. At least as long as it takes me to pay off the bet." He was wantonly stroking Chance's long, thick cock, starkly outlined in those newly re-cut jeans. All eyes around them now were glued to these two young hunks enjoying such hot foreplay.

Chance laughed and rubbed his lover's dick, straining against the tight leather pants Reed wore. Both boys became lost in the love and lust coursing through them. They kept stroking and moaning until Chance finally snapped out of it. "Hey, you weasel, you ain't even bought me my first drink! Get me a beer, and then I wanna check this place out!"

"All right, stud. Larson!" Reed called out, waving to the man tending bar, and Chance watched as a tall, handsome, Nordic-looking guy walked over to them. He had short blonde hair, blue eyes, a square jaw, and rugged blonde stubble on his tan face. He wore a tight black sleeveless T that showed off his well-developed upper body. Like Reed, Larson had earrings in both ears, and on both wrists were several thin metal bracelets.

"What can I get you boys?" the bartender asked with a smile.

"First, Larson, let me introduce my boyfriend. Chance, meet Larson, coolest bartender in town."

Larson smiled warmly as he shook Chance's hand. They were each pleased with the other's strong, warm grip.

"Chance is on the school wrestling team," Reed added. This cause Larson's eyes to widen.

"Really? My boyfriend and I have had season tickets for the wrestling team for years! We follow you guys religiously. We even road-tripped to state last year to watch you guys. Fuck," he smiled dreamily, "what an after-party in the hotel later with a couple guys from your team. Damn, was that ever hot! Sure would love to repeat that again this year!"

Chance smiled, marveling once more at all the torrid male sex that went on, right under most peoples' noses, just past their field of vision, a world of intense male desire that had been previously unknown to him, unsuspected even, all his life, but which he was now an excited part of.

"Shit," he grinned, flirting almost automatically, "why wait till state, Larson? I bet some of the guys would be up for partying any time. I know I sure would."

"OH, he's a wrestler, all right!" Larson laughed loudly. "Fucking horndogs, all of 'em!" Then his eyes raked Chance up and down. "Chance, I don't mind telling you, I'm gonna enjoy watching you this season. Fuck, you're built!"

"Thanks," the young boy smiled. "How about you and your boyfriend host our first victory party?"

Larson laughed again, turned on by this sexually aggressive young stud. "You got it, dude! That's a promise I'll hold you to! Bring Reed, he needs to see how you boys party. So, what's your pleasure?"

"I'll have another scotch and soda, and Chance will have a beer. What kind, Chance?"

"Uh, Grain Belt, I guess." Suddenly, Chance's eyes glazed over, as a reverie took shape in his mind. He realized why that choice of beer popped into his head. It was his dad. Each week, he'd come home with a case of Grain Belt and a couple sixes of something imported. He explained his buying habits one day to Chance: "The cheap stuff's, that's the everyday beer. Us working men, we gotta drown our sorrows. And then you drink the good stuff on weekends, to remind you what you're workin' for."

But this involuntary memory wasn't through; it had a definite life of its own that needed to play out, brought on, no doubt, he realized later as he turned this reverie over in his mind, by the incredible carnival of half-naked male flesh surrounding him. First, he was reminded of all the times in senior year when he and his friends would steal a beer or two from his daddy's stash on the porch. If the old man ever missed it, he never said anything. Chance suspected his father knew he was always a few beers short each week, but probably figured Chance and his friends couldn't go too crazy on two or three beers. Fuck, Chance realized, those times with the guys he hung out with, other high school athletes, were so charged with homoerotic passion. He could just see him and Dennis Sullivan wrestling bare-chested in the barn after splitting a couple beers. Damn, he thought now, I bet each of us was waiting for the other to make the first move.

And then, his mind made one more click, and a long-forgotten memory came crashing into his consciousness, with a force that left him breathless; a memory he'd had locked away, forgotten for years, until the combination of his father, the beer, and the shirtless boys in Sparta clicked the tumblers just right to release it. His mom was gone, he remembered, on a trip to Aunt Sarah's. Another of those endless trips she was always taking. And it seemed that every time she left, Uncle Bill would stay over. At least that's what Chance called him, though he found out somewhere around junior high that Bill wasn't really Chance's uncle at all. It was just a title of respect that stuck out of habit as Chance grew older.

Bill was one of his dad's oldest friends. He worked the farm with his father. They'd go on hunting and fishing trips together, and Bill and he would drink beers together every weekend, some nights, too. This one time, though, in this memory that was currently flooding through Chance's consciousness, there was a poker party his dad had planned since his mom was away. Chance must have been about 8 or 9 at the time. Christ, it was all so vivid now. He had been put to bed by his father as Bill was downstairs setting up the room for cards. Chance was woken up from sleep by something or other, a noise probably, and couldn't get back to bed, so he'd come downstairs for a drink of water. His dad and Uncle Bill and two of the hired men, Tom Hanrahan and Pete Buckley, were in the living room. Chance could see the memory now as vividly as if it were happening there in the club. All four men were naked.

"Your kid's awake, Paul!" Pete Buckley called from where he was, down on the floor with Tom Hanrahan.

Chance could see his eight year-old self rub his eyes, trying to process a confusing sight; a young boy's eyes, having just emerged from a dark bedroom, still groggy, blinking from the bright light and loud strangeness of the scene.

"Hey, son, you OK?" his father asked tenderly, coming over to comfort him just like always, as if his nudity meant nothing at all. "Us guys were just playing strip poker. You ever play that with your friends, Chance? Every time you lose, you gotta take some clothes off. Ain't none of us guys did too well, I guess, cause just look at how naked we all are. Come on, son, let's get you some water so's you can get back to bed."

Chance had seen his father naked before, so that didn't really bother him. But his younger self, Chance realized now, must have been unable to make sense out of any of the other aspects of the scene, and so had just filed it away as unintelligible. But it sure made sense to Chance now, and the realization hit him like a blow to the stomach. But also, he realized, as he turned it over in his mind, a kind of pleasant, excited warmth. His dad was gay! Uncle Bill and he were lovers! Of course! Why had he never suspected it? All those trips together, the hours they'd spend alone in the barn, the way Bill would move in during harvest and planting time and when his mom was away. Damn, Chance smiled, so his dad was a cool-ass stud, too! Like father, like fucking son!

As he kept turning that memory over, he realized that what the eight year-old Chance had thought was Pete and Tom wrestling was no doubt the two hired men 69'ing there on the floor. The memory appeared in his mind now so clearly, in fact, he could even see the glistening hard-ons both men had. In fact - holy shit - his father's hard, wet dick was dripping pre-cum, he was sure of it now. He could see the dripping tip as he walked with his son from the kitchen up to his bedroom. Bill must have been tonguing his dad's cock all over right before they heard the boy coming downstairs. Chance grew hard as he let his mind dwell on this now-treasured memory. He was incredibly excited at discovering his father's secret gay life. It was as if his subconscious had been saving this memory for him for years, until he was ready for it. And he sure was ready for it now. It came to him like a lovely, unexpected present. How fucking hot his father was! Damn, now he really wanted to bring Reed home for Thanksgiving. Show his dad how much times and morals had changed, how young guys didn't have to hide their love for each other in secret any more. Fuck, maybe he and Reed and Dad and Bill could play a game of strip poker!

Reed snapped him out of his reverie.

"I'm not holding this forever, dude. Earth to Chance. Do you read me?"

"Sorry," Chance grinned sheepishly, shaking his head, "I was miles away. Hey, Reed, gimme the camera. I'm gonna wander around for a while and take some pictures. You got such great photos for your part of this 'alien culture' thing. I wanna get some hot shots, too. I'll be back in a bit, and then we can dance a little, OK?"

"All right, lover," said Reed, as he handed over the camera he had on the bar, next to his keys and wallet. "I'm gonna kick back, sip scotch, and just groove on seeing you here, and watch everyone stare at you, of course. Fuck, cowboy, do you ever look hot! I'm ready to pay off that bet any time, by the way. . . . WITH INTEREST!" he called out, as Chance moved through the throng of beautiful men. Reed was so in love with that boy, so happy to share this part of his life with him.

Before he took any pictures, Chance wandered through the club, agog at the spectacular display of male beauty. The club itself, Chance noted, was sort of like the American Legion hall back home: a mirror-backed bar, tables around it, a dance floor, and a game area off to the side. Except Sparta was a cool, hip, gay variant: beautifully lit in neon and twinkling lights, and on the three walls bordering the dance floor were huge cartoonish murals of bare-chested Greek warriors. The music, too, was different than what he was used to: instead of juke-box country, there was an incredible sound-system blasting this throbbing style of dance music unfamiliar to Chance but which he dug a lot.

But the main difference between this club and the Yellow Branch Legion hall, of course, was the clientele. Chance's brain felt like it had been submerged in a nice warm bubble bath as he walked around and eyed all the gorgeous, mostly shirtless men in the club. It was the sexiest space he'd ever been in. Tall, short, thin, beefy, all races, ages ranging from 18 to maybe 40-something, and almost all incredibly handsome and very well-built. Most wore just jeans, some in leather pants, like Reed, and a couple pairs of dancers had stripped down to jocks. Fuck, was all Chance could think. He started snapping pictures of the hottest-looking guys he could find. After a few minutes he started to notice how some of the guys were wearing this really cool thing: these X-shaped leather straps criss-crossing their torso's. Chance thought it looked too fucking cool; he thought he would look great in one. Some even had leather arm-bands, too, which seemed to accentuate their biceps.

A dreamy lust-daze settled in over Chance: he strolled through the club like an adult kid in an adult candy shop, not being able to decide what looked tastiest. Adding to the buzz was that he knew every guy in there was like him - gay and horny as fuck. He could just about inhale the lust in the air. It was so cool to be in a space like this; it felt like an island, a haven. He felt totally comfortable here. In the world outside Sparta these past few days, he'd always wonder when he saw a hot-looking guy: is he? Here, there was no wondering. Plus, he could scope out guys to his heart's content, not having to worry about pissing some straight dude off. Shit, other guys sure were scoping him.

And not just scoping. He smiled as he felt anonymous hands rub his abs or pecs or shoulders, stroke his ass, or slide fingers under the waistband of his jeans, either in front or back, to poke around in his crack or cop a feel of his dick. Increasingly, he realized, the seductive ass-cleavage Mai had designed for him was driving every boy in this club nuts. The top of his two luscious buttocks were so tantalizingly revealed now by his jeans' ultra-low cut, boldly showing off that perfect, deeply etched V-groove, pointing to the promise of paradise that lay waiting beneath that denim. Some guys would stop him and let their fingers dwell while they spit corny game: "Damn, I see Olympus is short one god tonight," shit like that. Chance was giddily buzzed and flattered. In many cases he returned the touch, but then smiled, offered a quick peck, and explained that his boyfriend was here with him. Mock-sad pouts and then smiles as he drifted off.

Chance couldn't help but think of the library research he was working on earlier that afternoon. This was Sparta, all right. In ancient Sparta, they segregated the boys in barracks for years, from age 7 to about 30. Such close proximity meant the boys were naturally drawn to each other; homosexuality was built right into the culture. Taking a male lover was encouraged, as the Spartans thought emotionally attached soldiers made better fighters. This nightclub was like a modern version of what those boys' barracks must have been like, with homoerotic passion and desire given free rein and encouragement to flourish; boys, having worked their bodies to perfection, showing them off to each other, arousing each other, enflaming a lust that would be wonderfully satisfied. So Chance wandered through this modern Sparta, seeing his own natural desires thrown into such high relief. Permeating this swirling, glorious scene of male perfection, pumping through it like the throbbing bass-line of the booming music - or, better, like steadily shooting loads of rich, thick cum - was raw masculine desire. These finely-tuned bodies were being shown off out of the primal need to fuck or be fucked or both. It was a scene of fevered male lust, as thick with intense heat as a sauna in hell. It was an environment Chance understood completely. He'd taken enough pictures for now; he had to find Reed.

On his way back towards the bar, he saw a guy standing alone by the pool tables he thought he recognized. He got a little closer, and then he was sure of it. It was Curtis Somebody or Somebody Curtis, a freshman football player he'd met during an all-sports mixer the first week of classes. This guy was big, built, and beautiful. Figured he'd be hanging out here; he fit right in. As Chance neared him, he really dug the kid's look: jeans that hugged his beefy thighs and massive calves very nicely, a faded biker jacket zipped open to show brawny pecs tightly covered by a thin wife-beater. The kid was nicely groomed, too: he had a kind of young gay marine high-and-tight blonde flattop, showing off the sexy curves of his skull, and a very carefully trimmed thin goatee. Chance could just picture rubbing his hands all over that nicely buzzed head, stroking back and forth across that crew cut, while his dick pumped in and out of that cute goateed mouth. He figured he'd walk over and say hello; always nice to hook up with another hot young gay jock.

CJ Curtis, meanwhile, was nervous as hell. He had arrived at the club about twenty minutes ago, after weeks of working up the nerve to come. He had just downed his second beer, hoping to calm his jitters. CJ was a boy who started realizing he was gay in high school - probably earlier, if you came right down to it - after finally admitting to himself how fucking aroused he was by men. He lived for his times in the locker room, being able to drink in naked male flesh. It would feed the endless jack-off sessions later in his bedroom, imagining all those dicks he'd memorized pumping his hard, hungry ass.

His other undeniable clue, besides how much guys' bodies turned him on, and the thought of sex with them, was his waning interest the sex he was actually having with the cute girls drawn to him. He'd never had problems getting girls; no popular, good-looking, high school football jock ever does. But since the end of junior year the sex had been unsatisfying, empty, a dull, dutiful version of the hot, physical action he dreamed about. The only thing that got him off about heterosexual sex was double-dating with another hot football player, and winding up somewhere where, the two couples having sloppy young sex together, he could watch the other boy's naked body: a beautiful, firm ass; a ripped set of abs; a great pair of biceps; or a nice hard young boy-cock as it was sucked by some drunk girl trying to give head, or while that firm butt pumped it in and out of some girl's pussy, or - best of all - as it shot load after load all over some girl's face or tits. At this point, he never dated anymore unless it was a foursome. Those moments, as satisfying as they were, were torture, too, cause he ached to dump the girl he was with and get with the guy.

The summer before he left home for school he bought his first gay porn mag; fuck, did that ever take a lot of nerve, hands shaking like shit as he paid for it. He was glad the clerk didn't say anything, or he might have died as he tried to answer in a trembling, cracked voice. He pored over that magazine constantly, reading it cover to cover, trying to learn about his desires from people who were experienced in them. And then at college, having a computer, all those nights in his dorm room alone, after his roommate left for the evening, learning to navigate through all the gay porn on the net, discovering the hottest shit imaginable. Fuck, the seed he'd been spilling this past month!

He'd found out about this gay club through a local chat room, thought for a while about dropping by, just to see what might happen, but he'd been too scared. He was panicky about any of his teammates finding out he was gay: it would be humiliating to be teased and insulted for these urges he couldn't control. But uncontrollable they were, and so his dick won out at last over his brain. As wrong as this might be, he had to take his first halting step into gay public culture. He had to see. He had to start building his real identity. It couldn't wait any longer.

So naturally, his heart sunk and his nerves seemed to scream, as he watched a kid he knew from school - a fellow athlete, yet - walk towards him. Fuck, his doom had come swift as shit, that's for sure. Damn, his heart was racing ridiculously fast as the boy - Chance? was that his name? - approached. But even through his mounting hysteria, he could appreciate that the boy coming over was so fucking beautiful. He'd seen this kid once before, at the fall sports mixer - fuck, that was about the best party CJ had ever been to: prime jock beef as far as his leering eyes could see. CJ had had a ball. And he remembered this Chance dude, all right; it was pretty hard not to. He and this stud had chatted for a long time as they slammed down beers from the keg. CJ had tried to drop subtle hints, make small but telling gestures, cautiously flirting with the boy, but it was just too delicate a dance for a novice - hovering over it was a dark cloud out of which could strike at any moment a sudden bolt like, "What are you, some kind of fucking fag??!!" And, fuck, look at this kid tonight; shit, he is so fucking hot. Christ, what a dick on this boy, you could see it perfectly outlined in his jeans (CJ always checked out guys' packages). He swallowed hard and tried to get control over himself. What the fuck was he gonna say?

"Hey, dude! What's up?" Chance said warmly, extending a hand. As they shook, Chance grabbed him around the shoulders with his other hand and gave him one of those hip guy hugs, making sure to "casually" press his cock against one of CJ's rock-solid thighs. "Chance Taylor, you remember me? From that sports party thing in August?"

"Sure, man," CJ said nervously, buzzing from the feel of this stud's thick cock against his leg.

"Shit, sorry, dude, but I forget your name. Curtis?"

"CJ. CJ Curtis. Close," the young football jock laughed nervously, dying inside.

"CJ, fuck yeah. Good to see you, man! Cool fucking place, huh? You come here a lot?"

"Naw, man. No. Not me," CJ stammered. "I was just walkin' back to campus from the library downtown, and I really just stopped into the first bar I saw to grab a cold one - you know, wind down, maybe shoot some pool."

"Well, fuck, dude," Chance laughed at the thought of a straight stud wandering into a place like this, "do you realize you picked about the gayest gay club in the city to wander into? That's pretty fuckin' amusin'! I came with my boyfriend. He's been anxious to show me this scene, and fuck, I gotta say, I totally dig it. Never saw so many hot guys in one place before."

"Your boyfriend?" CJ was stunned. "Uh, fuck, man, I didn't know you were gay."

"Neither did I, until I met Reed. Fuck, man, am I ever happy. Reed keeps me well-fucked and well-loved, you know what I mean? Never had it so good."

Chance kinda scoped out CJ a little. Shit, he thought, this guy sure as hell looks gay. He had that Tom of Finland vibe goin' on with his hair and clothes. Oh well.

"Too bad you ain't into guys, dude," Chance added, "cause a fine-ass jock stud like you could do some serious damage in a place like this, I dare say. 'Spect you could have all the dick you could handle, if you was into it."

CJ was starting to sweat now. It was like his mind was shorting out. His desperate attempt to keep his secret, pushed up against this incredibly beautiful jock-stud turn-on in front of him, so casual about being gay, and holding out the promise of the kind of sex that CJ ached for with an ache that threatened to shake his body apart if it wasn't soon satisfied - it was too much too handle. Add to it was a non-stop kaleidoscope of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. His circuits shorted; he suffered a total existential blow-out. He was able to stammer out just a few sounds before he blew.

"I - You - I - ," and then he collapsed in a heavy, silent sob - his emotional, spiritual, intellectual, physical, and sexual circuits all blown. Chance put his arm around him immediately.

"Dude! You OK? What's wrong, man?"

CJ turned and gave Chance a look that almost frightened the boy. It was the kind of look a desperate mother might give if they told her they were taking her children away for ever. CJ couldn't stand it any more. He was ready to surrender. Let them ridicule him all they wanted, ride him off the team, chase him back to his hometown; let word of this get back to his parents. He didn't care anymore. He had to talk to someone. He had to let someone know the real score. His secret was eating him alive.

"Chance," he sobbed quietly, "aw Chance, aw fuck. Damn it. I'm just, aw shit, man. Can I talk to you?" he asked, with a look only a total bastard could refuse.

"Dude," Chance said, so sweetly, so caringly, still holding him around the shoulder, "of course, man. CJ, what is it? What's up, man?"

"Fuck, Chance, I think I'm gay, too. I mean, like, really, I know I am."

Chance smiled tenderly, relived it wasn't a brain aneurism or something, "Shit, man. Aw fuck, CJ, don't worry. Shit, that's nothin' bad! Nothin' to cry about! Fuck, man, you'll handle this. I did. It's cool, trust me! You'll have a wonderful life, dude, I swear!"

"But, damn, Chance, what if the team finds out? My parents?"

"The team? Fuck, dude, get a clue. Half my wrestling team is gay. I bet half the football team is, too. Fuck, man, I'm just startin' to realize why a lot of guys get into sports - basically it's cause a lot of guys get into sports, that's why. I mean, dude, think about it. What attracted you to sports, I bet, was what, at some level, the same level, attracted me. A heavy-duty desire to be around other good-lookin' guys. To like, hang out with men."

"Half the fucking wrestling team? Chance, are you serious?"

"Fuck, yes, dude," Chance smiled. "Oh wait," he remembered Gar, "I take it back, more than half. And fuck, son, I must say, we've had some hot fuckin' times in the shower, believe me."

"Aw shit, Chance. I dream about shit like that. I drive myself crazy jackin' off, fantasizin' about just that kinda shit! It's like ninety percent of my waking day is spent thinkin' about sex with dudes! Fuck, man," CJ laughed now, between subsiding sobs, "I blow about three hours a day surfing gay porn."

"Damn, boy, we gotta get you laid!"

Chance brought his hand up to trace this beautiful, sweet, sad, vulnerable boy's face - his lips, his goatee, the sexy shaved side of his head. CJ was almost melting with warm, newly released desire.

"Fuck," Chance added, "I'd volunteer for the job myself if I wasn't here with my boyfriend. But I'll take a fuckin' rain check."

CJ brought his hand up to feel Chance's strong, sexily stubbled jaw, trace over his own gorgeous buzz cut, then he brought both hands down to rub Chance's beautifully outlined chest, daring to touch those hard, alluring nipples.

"Oh fuck, dude, I could do this all night! This is the kinda shit I dream about."

Both boys were hard as hell. Chance bent closer and gave CJ a tender kiss on the side of his cheek. That kiss, the electric thrill of his first kiss from another man - the feel of hard, full lips; the stubbly, coarse beard of another passionate boy; the feel of Chance's big, strong fingers gently tracing his jaw and ear - it tripped a switch in CJ. He grabbed Chance by that sexy shaved head of his, held his head still, and kissed him on the lips, hungrily, hotly, with the force of a minor volcanic eruption. He started sucking, kissing, tonguing, rubbing his own smooth skin against Chance's light beard, his hard jock jaw against Chance's, sending off sparks off smoldering boy-lust. His hands pawed Chance's ripe, young body with the clumsy honesty of a finally-admitted desire. He worked one massive pec, not tentatively now as before, but hard and rough, while his other hand found the boy's crotch, grabbing another guy's dick for the first time in his life. His lust now was a conflagration; it felt to Chance like the heat of this boy's long-simmering passion was sucking the very air out of his lungs. He had to break their clinch before he either shot off in his jeans or died of suffocation.

"Damn, son!" he gasped, half-grinning at the big shy stud across from him gone suddenly wild. "We DEFINITELY gotta get you laid before you fuckin' explode!"

"What's this about gettin' laid?" a voice asked behind him.

Chance spun around to see Reed standing there with a smirk.

"Can't leave you alone for ten minutes, I see, before you start hookin' up with some sexy-ass stud."

Chance laughed nervously. "Aw fuck, Reed, it ain't what you think. Reed, this is CJ, he's on the football team, and he really needs to get laid. CJ, my boyfriend, Reed."

The two shook hands. Reed studied his features, then said, "Damn, stud, unless you have some weird-ass skin disease I can't see, I shouldn't think you'd have to do much more than breathe to get laid around here."

Chance looked at CJ. "Can I tell him?" he asked.

"Sure," CJ shrugged, smiling a little shyly, but pleased as fuck that the storm-tossed boat of his life now had land definitely within sight.

"Ya see, CJ's sorta what I was a week ago. Only he KNOWS he's gay. But he's just as inexperienced, just as frustrated."

Reed laughed. "CJ, look around. Take your pick, dude. Blonde? Redhead? Black? Asian? White? Leather? How about my friend the bartender? He's hot. This ain't gonna be hard, man, believe me. It's just a matter of making your mind up."

CJ laughed, "Damn, you guys make it sound so easy. So why the fuck have I been goin' outta my mind for the past couple years?"

"Cause you ain't met us!" Chance laughed.

"CJ," Reed said, "let me make a suggestion: why not get your ass out on the dance floor, and in about - oh, I don't know - say, ten seconds, you're gonna have five offers of fairly hardcore sex, I guarantee it."

The dance floor gave Chance an even better idea.

"Hey, Reed, where does the DJ hang out?"

Reed pointed to a window in the wall Chance hadn't seen earlier.

"That's the DJ booth up there. Why?"

"How do you get up into it?" Chance asked.

"See the mural of the hunk with the spear kissing the hunk with the shield?"

"Yeah."

"Can you make out a door in the spear-hunk's thigh?"

Chance stared and then saw it; it was painted the same fleshy color as the Greek warrior's thigh, so it was hard to make out in the neon darkness.

"Come on, you guys. Let's go see Mr. DJ."

"Chance, Chance, whoa, whoa, chill, cowboy, chill. I mean, are you nuts? You can't just go over and talk with the DJ. That's fucking DJ 2Tronic spinning tonight. He's the hottest fucking DJ in town. This guy does remixes of famous rap and r-n-b songs. People all over the fucking world buy his mixes! And anyway, even if he would give you the time of day, which he won't, believe me - whaddya think this is, like goin' to Oz to get the Wizard to give CJ a man? Believe me, junior, 2Tronic ain't got time for this shit."

"CJ, meet my boyfriend, Mr. Fucking Know-It-All. Reed, would you care to up that bet I already won from you? Make it double or nothin' or somethin'?"

"What, you mean two blowjobs I'd owe you?"

"Or somethin," Chance smiled slyly.

"Oh, hell no. I'm cuttin my losses. But I will enjoy seein' you get your cute little ass bounced the fuck out of the DJ booth. That'll be amusing as shit. I'm way up for that."

"OK, Nasty McNasterson, let's go." By this time, Chance was so fucking hot to get laid himself, he was thinking with his libido. But he had a pretty good idea his plan would work and CJ would get a fine fucking introduction to boy-sex.

They were about ten feet from the door to the DJ booth when it suddenly burst open and Tou stood there yelling, "Chance! Good to see you, man. I been lookin' for you!"

"Tou, man," Chance said, as the two sexy boys had a very physical embrace. Reed, meanwhile, went from being stunned to mad to realizing that nothing Chance ever did for the rest of his life - nothing that concerned sex, that is - could possibly surprise him. He was jealous as hell as he watched his lover being felt up by that incredibly hot Asian boy, the king of local DJ's, dressed so damn sexy in an old, too-big pair of 1940s thrift store pants, suspenders, and the top band of a jockstrap showing. His beautifully lean, muscular chest was bare, and currently getting a pectoral massage from Chance as they continued kissing.

When the two boys finally came up for air, Chance turned his shit-eating grin towards Reed. "Tou, my boyfriend Reed, and CJ, a friend from school I thought you might like to meet."

Tou nodded warmly to Reed, then shook his hand, saying, "You about the luckiest guy on earth, you know."

"Tell me about it," Reed laughed, adding, "Shit, man, a pleasure to meet you. You're about the greatest DJ I've ever heard."

"Thanks," said Tou. Then turning back to Chance, looking him up and down, he smiled,. "So, Mai make you nice sexy clothes for 'da club,' huh?"

"What can I say," Chance laughed, as he put his arms out and slowly turned, letting Tou see Mai's wonderful magic.

Tou did the ass-cleavage poke, laughed, and then turned to feast his eyes on the big beefy boy named CJ.

"You friend of Chance's, huh?" Tou asked, with a definite leer in his voice.

"Yeah," CJ said shyly, totally turned on by this hot Asian stud, as well as the cool young gay camaraderie. Tou's longish black hair and sleekly muscled chest, with that teasing glimpse of jockstrap covering his luscious lean abs, had CJ very fucking hard.

"Chance," Tou asked, "all your friends as beautiful as you?"

"What can I say? Hey, Tou, I got a question," and Chance reached in to whisper something to Tou, while Reed and CJ stood there, horny as hell - Reed for his utterly unpredictable stud of a boyfriend, and CJ for this Asian sex god he'd just met.

As Tou listened to Chance, he broke out in a wide grin, then kissed Chance and stroked his ass.

"Follow me!" he said and turned back through the door and up the stairs.

"Come on, Tou's gonna show us where he plays music," Chance said, flushed with excitement cause he knew what was coming.

Once up the stairs, they entered a narrow room filled with shelves and crates of records. Plus, on a long counter, were 4 turntables, a huge console of switches, and a couple of laptops. The room itself was lit with a red light, carpeted, and there were throw pillows all over.

A record was coming to an end. In a flash, moving at blurry speed, Tou put on a set of headphones, dropped a needle onto one of the other turntables, which had a record already spinning on it, took the just-played record off, dug in a crate for another, slapped it on, then with one hand he moved the new record back and forth, and with the other flipped a switch on and off. The sound was totally cool. All three of Tou's visitors were totally impressed.

"Damn," Reed called out, "that's so damn cool. Great beat, man! Your scratching ins incredible!"

Tou couldn't resist showing off more. His middle finger flipped the switch back and forth fast, with a kind of funky rhythm. His other hand played on the record in the same jerky, percussive movement. Then he let one record play, took the other off, got a new one, dropped the needle, and suddenly a whole new groove came out, taking the music to a whole other level. Even up here, closed off, the boys could hear the crowd go wild. Tou had brought the beat up to an even higher, wilder zone. Reed started rocking with Chance. Soon the two of them were in their own little dance world, as Chance held Reed's hips and the two swayed and kissed. CJ was very envious, but he loved that his true destiny, a gay life, was finally unrolling before him. Tou turned to him and motioned with his head for the footballer to come next to him.

When CJ pulled up close, Tou grabbed him by the ass and kissed him hard on the mouth. CJ let out a swoony, muffled moan. His lips, feeling a very insistent tongue, surrendered immediately. The two boys went wild caressing each other's tongues. CJ by now had begun stroking Tou's hips, working up to that beautiful chest.

"Wait," Tou snapped quickly, breaking the clench. He did a few mouse clicks, flipped another switch on the console, and then turned back to CJ.

"Pre-recorded mix, for when I take breaks. It's a great fucking time to take a break, no? I'm horny as hell, and you're too fucking hot."

CJ was in heaven. He could feel his dick throb expectantly, insistently.

"Aw, shit, man, you are so fucking gorgeous," he moaned, all hoarse with the thought of his first actual dream-sex with another boy.

Tou ripped CJ's jacket up and then pressed his crotch into the big, massive thighs of this beefy young muscle-stud. He stroked those huge biceps, then started licking them. Then he trailed down with his tongue to suck CJ's nipples, right through his wife-beater. Tou had been thinking about sex all afternoon, ever since his fabulous fuck session with Chance. And now, suddenly, his prayers were answered, with a muscle-boy even bigger than Chance. Damn, just how he liked them. All-American Studs.

CJ was in ecstasy. His boat had finally landed; he'd set foot on Paradise Island, where the natives were all men and all beautiful. This Asian beauty's big thick lips on his nipples gave him the best feeling he'd ever had in his life.

"Oh man," he moaned, his dick dripping like a faucet, "that's so fucking fine."

He had dared to flip down Tou's suspenders, which dropped to the floor along with his trousers, leaving the lean stud in just a jock. CJ's delighted hands were having a field day, wandering over hard male flesh for the first time in their life. As Tou started chewing on his nipples and playing hard in his ass crack, CJ moved from Tou's lean, luscious arms down to the straps tightly covering his ass. Moving his fingers under those straps, he played over the firm globes of a boy's ass for the first time. The utter joy of erotic delirium was overwhelming him.

"I'm gonna cum soon, man," he cried weakly.

Tou was off him in a shot.

"Not yet! Wait!"

First he ripped the boy's wife-beater off, exposing a huge expanse of hard, well-worked lineman torso. His gaze lingered on the almost smooth chest, with those massive, flat pecs, each dotted by a sweet little coin-sized nipple. CJ's abs were thick and cut. Tou slid his hand over them. Fuck, what a hard, meaty slab.

CJ watched as that beautiful Asian face, half-hidden by Tou's long black hair, stared at his bulging crotch. Then those fingers, which had flown over switches and turntables a moment earlier, began to fly over CJ's jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down in a minute.

"Fuck, you are so fucking hot!" Tou cried, as he saw that CJ, too, was wearing a jock. He stared at those huge tree-trunk thighs, each gigantic muscle beautifully carved. And the jock pouch showed a huge wet stain at the tip of what looked to be seven inches of tightly packed boy-meat.

Tou reached down to pull off CJ's shoes, slip off his jeans, and then suck at the already-wet mesh of the boy's jock.

"OH FUCK YEAH!!" CJ cried, as his hands gratefully held the back of Tou's head, fingers playing in the soft, black sheen of his long hair. Another dude's lips on his cock for the first time? OH FUCK! No wonder he'd dreamed about this for so long: it turned out to be utter bliss.

By this time, Reed and Chance were also naked. They had been fooling around, kissing and playing with each other's dicks, but CJ's excited moan brought them over to check things out, to help celebrate CJ's baptism into the longed-for joy of boy-on-boy sex. Reed got down to help Tou lick and suck at the big boy's pouch. Chance put an arm around CJ and rubbed his pecs softly, tweaking a nipple as the boys fell into the tender kisses of male intimacy.

Once Chance was done with the last few light, butterfly kisses of his new fuck buddy's boyish, eminently kissable face, CJ looked at him with a look of sweet, tender affection. "Thanks, man," he whispered. It was all he needed to whisper. His life had finally started, thanks to this wonderful new friend.

Chance smiled, and went back to kissing around that cute goateed mouth, rubbing his face against CJ's, and letting his hands play over that cool butch haircut. Tou and Reed, meanwhile, had freed CJ's dick and were sucking on it for real: Tou on the tip and shaft, Reed lapping and sucking his sweet, tight ballsac. Every minute or so, Tou and Reed would fall into a heavy-duty kiss themselves. Then back to CJ's cock. It was wet, boyish eroticism.

As his head turned this way and that, in a kind of slow, ecstatic whirl of lust, CJ looked down for a second and saw Chance's incredible cock for the first time. Huge, thick, veiny, uncut, dripping - it was the kind of cock CJ jacked off to over and over on the internet every night. And now, here was one in the achingly lovely flesh. His hands went for it immediately. The first feel of another guy's naked dick, especially one this hot, combined with the two hot boys working over his cock and balls in indescribable lusciousness, brought him way over the edge.

"Fuck, dudes, I'm shooting. Aw, how fucking WONDERFUL!" he cried, as he began to pump load after load of thick, pearly-white cream. Tou and Reed laughed as CJ drenched them. He kept pumping! Seven, now eight loads! With each load, CJ would cry, "OH YEAH!!" till finally, after the side of Tou's face looked like a glazed donut, he stopped. He watched in fascination as Reed and Tou licked his cream off each other's faces, then the two boys rose. Tou hugged the big jock, and when CJ gave him the most grateful kiss of his young life, he thrilled to feel Tou's tongue enter his mouth with a dribbly load of his own cum. CJ drank it gratefully, ecstatic to share in what had become another rite in this sacred, soul-saving liturgy.

Reed and Chance couldn't wait to get their hands on each other. Reed pulled Chance down on the floor, and they got into a 69 position, with Reed eating Chance's ass, getting him ready for the fuck he knew his lover wanted; and Chance, delighted to feel what was in store, slicking up Reed's dick with his eager, lapping tongue.

CJ and Tou were still kissing madly, feeling each other's hard young bodies. When CJ came up for air, he and Tou watched Chance and Reed.

"Fuck, you two, you look so damn hot!" CJ cried. "Shit, eat that jock-stud's hole, Reed! Damn, this is gettin' me so fuckin' hard again!"

He and Tou were jacking each other slowly as they watched those beautiful boys go at it. They went back to kissing, CJ delirious with the new vistas of pleasure that had gloriously unfolded for him. His dick, he felt, was jutting out hard and twitchy. He looked down at Tou's luscious body: he was bigger and more powerful than he seemed at first - like a big jungle cat, he rippled with a lean sleekness. CJ felt for Tou's dick. It was hard, too. It curved upwards. CJ just wanted to feel it, play with it, stroke it. He cupped the boy's big balls, reached under to tickle that spot that he knew, from years spent perfecting masturbation, was so sensitive. Then he stroked Tou's proud young cock up and down, as if paying it tribute. Fuck, he wondered, what would this feel like in his ass? He played with his own ass practically every night. It was so damn sensitive, so hot and hungry. He'd read porn stories and finger himself, aching for the feel of a sweet, stiff prick working over his tender jock hole.

As if Chance and Reed were telepathic, he watched in hot fascination as Reed, finished working over Chance's smooth shaved hole, was feeding him his dick slowly. The look on Chance's face was utter bliss. These boys needed a fuck as bad as CJ did.

"OH YEAH, man! Fuck me, Reed! I need this so fucking bad!" Chance cried, in the sublime throes of hard, young boy-lust.

CJ thought his own stiff prick would shoot a load right there, as he watched that beautiful, tan dick of Reed's slowly ease into the stretched-out hole between Chance's hard ass-cheeks. Oh shit did that look hot. CJ could just feel a nice thick cock sinking into his own hole, while he laid back like Chance, in paradise, as his year's-long itch was finally scratched. Soon, Reed was pistoning his lover in slow, sure, sexy movements. Both boys' beautifully muscled bodies were rippling in a kind of orchestrated ballet of male eroticism. Reed's hand jacked Chance's big cock slowly, another hand played over his ripped eight-pack. Then Reed pushed in hard, all the way, and bent down to give Chance a deep soul-kiss.

CJ looked at his dick, then at Tou's. They were both dripping. He bent in and whispered to the Asian beauty.

"Fuck, man. Would you do that to me? Fuck, would I like to feel your sweet dick riding my ass like that. Aw shit, that looks hot!"

Tou lit up. He gave CJ a kiss and then gently pushed him down near the two rutting stallions. Again, moving with liquid speed, Tou was down in CJ's big, beefy ass, licking and lapping and slurping - the brawny lineman's squeals and moans music to his ears. He licked, sucked, poked and prodded around that crack, loving the musky, metallic odor and taste of this big jock's virgin hole. The scraggly blonde hairs lining his crack gave his tongue a nice sexy tingle. CJ felt like he was floating in space. The music Tou was playing had become a heavy, throbbing, techno thing, and CJ's body was dissolving into it. The throb of the beat made him anticipate the pulse of Tou's dick as it would pound his ass. He squirmed in anticipatory pleasure.

"FUCK!" he yelled, as loudly as he could, and Tou just smiled, working him open.

CJ realized he wanted this kind of intense, soul-satisfying sex all the time now. The floodgates were open. He wanted sex with boys as often as possible; it was too fucking fine. Even better than he'd dreamed. He would ask Chance how he came out to his friends and teammates, and then he would do it, too. Because he wanted to stroll around campus from now on, ready to fuck or be fucked by any hot young jock who was interested. He was easing into his natural gayness like a wonderful suit of clothes that fit him so damn comfortably. Tou had a finger in his crack - how wonderful! - now two! CJ could feel himself relaxing, pliant, opening up to draw in that luscious boy-cock.

"You ready, big boy, for a first-class fuck?"

"OH HELL YEAH!!" CJ whooped. "Ride me, man! Fuck this big, virgin jock-ass! Take my cherry, man! Fuck me as hard as you fucking can! Fuck, I love this!"

Tou was thrilled by this eager, beautiful stud. He held his big, dripping dick, eased his cocktip into that big stud's sweet pucker, and, bending down to give CJ a gentle kiss, started feeding him his first taste of boy-meat.

CJ couldn't believe it. The soft spongy head worked its way in. His sphincter was a little tight, but almost immediately eased open to take in the pleasure-rod CJ had dreamed about for-fucking-ever, it seemed. The feel of that stiff, wet throbbing flesh as it slid into his eager hole was unbelievable, un forgettable. His natural instincts took over and he pressed his ass back on it, welcoming it in.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good!" Tou cried. "What a sweet, tight jock hole! You want more dick?"

"FUCK YEAH!! Fill me, Tou, with that hard Asian cock! Make me a real boy! Ride me, man! And cum in me. I wanna feel your sweet spunk fill up my virgin ass!"

Tou was now all the way in. CJ could feel Tou's bristly pubic hairs right under his balls. Aw shit, this was ever fucking sex! He could kiss Chance. Finally, man! Finally! He clenched his strong ass muscles hard on the long, thick length of hot Asian dick in him, as if he'd never let it out. He had it, at long last, and now he'd never lose it!

"Let's fuck, man. OK?"

"Shit, yeah! I wanna hella fuck, Tou!"

He lay back and let Tou work his ass expertly. Soon his own hips were catching the rhythm, gliding back over that slick, wondrous hardness pumping into him, shifting a little, moving here and there, so Tou's dick could hit him just right, just where it felt best. Suddenly, sheer electric pleasure flooded him. Tou had hit something incredible.

"OH FUCK YES!! THERE!! Keep hitting that spot, man!"

He looked up at the sweaty face smiling down at him. Tou looked like some anime prince, concentrating on an ultimate, life-or-death mission. His lean, muscular torso was hunched over him as he pumped again and again into CJ's needy hole. He reached down to jack his own hard, dripping dick, but Tou pushed his hands away and did it for him. Those fluid fingers seemed to be everywhere, dancing like lightning over his cock-tip, shaft, balls, even abs. CJ was on a bliss ride he hoped would never end. I wanna die like this, was all he could think.

"Oh Tou," he panted, "this is the greatest sex of my life. The ONLY fucking sex of my life! Fuck, man, you're amazing! Don't stop, man. Go all night! Please! Damn this feels wonderful! Fuck me, Tou! Keep fucking and fucking and fucking me!"

He'd fallen over the brink into total boy-sex pleasure. All he could feel were Tou's hands dancing across his cock and balls, playing it like a finely-tuned instrument, and that strong hard cock filling his ass - his body; his soul - with utter pleasure. Oh that cock! He wanted to hug it, kiss it, study it. The steady feel of it pounding him had become his heartbeat. He couldn't do without it, couldn't live without it. His hips were a pool of melted butter. His ass was a wild, electric thing. He was alive for the first time in his life.

"Fuck, you so fucking beautiful!" Tou cooed, as he pleasured the tightest, juiciest ass he'd had in a long time, and gazed down as this finely-sculpted young muscle-god.

"God, I wanna fuck you!" Tou cried and sped up his thrusts. CJ realized it was getting more intense. Tou was holding him by his balls, squeezing them, lifting his big body up by his balls and his cock-root as he pummeled that sweet, tight ass. CJ braced himself on his elbows and raised his hips up higher so Tou could get the best access to his boy-hole. Tou was relentless in his ramming, and CJ loved every minute of it. He felt the cream boiling in his own balls from the fucking and the ballplay. Oh God, this is sex, he thought dreamily as he sensed his cream ready to spurt, then, "UUUNNNNHHHHHHH, FUCK!" he screamed as his dick erupted. His ass clenched hard on the big dick in him, and he heard Tou cry, then felt the most wonderful feeling ever, as a thick hot rush of boy-cream exploded into his ass. OH YES! he thought. The feeling was happiness oozing over him, like reaching the warmth of home after a long, perilous trek. His ass clasped Tou tightly; his arms reached out to draw in his beautiful first-time lover. CJ felt like the gods had rewarded him, had rewarded his faith by giving him the prize he'd quested after so long. He thought to himself: I made it; I'm here.

A few minutes later, as he regained a semblance of consciousness, he looked over dreamily at Reed and Chance. They had been watching, smiling. They each kissed him, then both started dressing. Tou pulled out, kissed CJ, fed him his dick to clean, which CJ did gratefully, and then he pulled his jock and pants back on.

"OK, guys," Tou said briskly, flushed after such a fine fuck. "They don't pay me to have sex. I gotta get back to work. CJ, Chance'll tell you where I cut hair. You come by. I keep that nice flat-top looking good for you. And I keep that nice ass of yours in shape, too."

CJ smiled. He finally had his life. The mountain had been scaled, and now his homeland stretched out before him for mile after glorious mile. He dressed, too, after giving Tou a long, slow, sloppy kiss. Still in a sweet daze, the three boys descended the stairs and emerged into the club proper again.

Chance clasped him in a jock-hug as they closed the door.

"Well, stud. Whaddya think?"

"Chance, I just don't know what to say, dude. I feel like cryin' I'm so happy. How can I thank you?"

"Forget it, man. It's good to have another friend."

"When can I see you again, man?"

Chance thought. "I go for my hour-long run on Monday. You wanna run with me?" Then he smiled and whispered low to CJ, "We can cool down together in my room afterwards, and who knows, things might kinda heat up. I love sex when it's all sweaty and nasty, the way it's s'posed to be."

"Fuck, dude, it's a date. I can't wait."

"Shit, Chance," CJ added, as he sensuously stroked the beautiful face of this remarkable boy, emboldened into a new gay frankness, "I'd like to lick every drop of sweat offa that hot body o' yours. Fuck, that'd be hot."

Chance just grinned. CJ, though, was not a little sad at the thought of the three of them splitting up for the evening. But Reed wanted to be alone with Chance, he could tell. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little down. He was so fucking revved up, he could go for a lot more sex.

"Shit, though, guys. I gotta tell you. I sure am horny as hell after what just happened in there. I feel now like I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go!"

"I tell ya, man, the dance floor," Reed laughed.

"Naw, wait. I got it," Chance said, struck by another inspiration. "CJ, go to the doorman, where you came in, and ask him to show you how to get to the club downstairs. 'The Barracks,' it's called; it's where the guys in leather all hang out, I think. Head down there and ask around for a guy named Derrick Frank. Tell 'im Chance Taylor, the boy he gave a ride to tonight sent you down cause you wanted to have some fun. Tell him you're sorta new to all this - suggest maybe the two o' you head over to his place or somethin' for the rest of the night. Otherwise, if you hang out down there, I kinda think your ass might get drilled by about thirty hard-core leather dudes."

CJ smiled, "Shit, Chance, that's not a wholly unpleasant thought. But thanks, man, I'll go see if I can scare up this Derrick guy."

"He's cool. I think you guys'll have a good time."

CJ hugged Chance and Reed, then headed for the front of the club. "I'll tell you Monday what happens," he turned and shouted back.

When he was gone, Reed kissed Chance. "Well, that was hot as fuck, and you did your good deed for the day, scout. I, uh, gather from what Tou said at the end there that he was the one who cut your hair this afternoon?"

Chance grinned.

"I can fucking guess the rest. Listen, stud, I gotta pee. Here's a twenty. Get us each another round, and I'll meet you at the bar, OK?"

"Sure," said Chance, who was dying for another beer. He gave Reed a quick peck, then headed for the bar, thinking of his dad again.

Reed worked his way through the by-now-packed club, pushing his way through beautiful boys in every stage of undress, until he reached the john, which at Sparta was a sort of sex spa. The doorless stalls were almost always in use by two or more boys in some form of sexplay, and the troughs where you peed were designed for easy cruising. The long troughs made it so you didn't feel at all shy about getting right next to another stud while he whipped out his cock. Reed very much liked that aspect.

Sure enough, while he pissed a strong, steady stream, a guy suddenly edged in right next to him. Reed did what any still-horny gay guy in a muscle-club like Sparta would do, he riveted his eyes down on the guy's crotch. The man unzipped, and then fished out a real beauty. Long and thick and veiny like Chance's, plus VERY uncut. DAMN, Reed thought, this dude has a sweet fuckin' foreskin. It came to a fleshy little half-inch pucker hanging off the tip. The dude took his time, stroking it teasingly, diddling his foreskin with the big, lightly-furred hands of a real he-man. Reed was close to salivating. Then, after getting his dick semi-hard from showing off to Reed, this guy finally pushed the fleshy hood back, exposed the big round tip of his thick cock, and a golden stream started rushing into the trough.

Reed had stopped peeing by this time, but he was utterly mesmerized by the guy's cock, glued to it as the pee came streaming out. He'd never been into water sports, but he felt like he could with this guy. Reed imagined looking up longingly at this incredible dick as a shower of urine drenched him. He was getting kind of hard himself, and started stroking his own cock, jacking the foreskin, hoping this stud was looking over at him.

Suddenly he heard a gravelly voice boom, "Fuck, son. That's the second time in a coupla days I caught you staring at me way too long!"

Reed was, startled, but only a little ashamed: the way this guy was working his dick, he obviously wanted Reed to stare.

He started to apologize: "Look, I couldn't help but stare at that - "

But when Reed raised his head up to make eye contact with the dude, he couldn't believe it: "Holy Fuck! It's you!"

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