I used to think that London was the centre of the universe. Perhaps Nicolaus Copernicus could have put me right on that particular misconception. My only excuse is that when you grow up in a small village in the countryside, the metropolis exerts a gravity and one is drawn like Orpheus to its concrete jaws.
Soho is the beating heart of the West End. A toll free theme park that can take its toll. 24 hour hedonism - easy everything. Whatever your heart or even your cock desires.
Sometimes you can sit and watch the countless faces pass by. With the flux of speeding lives comes a sense of detachment like a stupor. People interconnecting like thoughts then lost from each other like amnesia.
Tonight I had stepped into this epicurean garden, opening my mind to possibilities. It was just like any other chill October night. I starred from the window of my usual nondescript boy bar. Listening to the communal monologues, buried in my own nonchalance. Handing out conversation like cigarettes and leaving alone.
I decided to take a walk to the end of Compton Street and into the labyrinthine red light area. "coke mate?" A pensive young guy shifted his hands around in his baggy pockets. "No, er...thanks mate." I walked on not really knowing why I was here. I turned down another gaudy street, hypnotised by pulsing neon of the porn shops and trails of taxis. A black guy walked by with a group of women. They were dressed in the kind of logo emblazoned cloths that declared wealth but spoke of sartorial vulgarity.
I stood staring into the window of a porn shop wondering what I could purchase to get off on. Shortly, I noticed a diaphanous shadow overlapping the darker one that I had created before the images of merging skin. I turned and saw that same guy but without his brash female company. Perhaps he had noticed me looking at him? He resembled an upturned game of scrabble with his logo inscribed garments. He stood slightly shorter than me but looked thick set and muscular. His close fitting trousers bulged conspicuously at the crotch. Although he was probably in his late twenties, his face told of excess and hedonism. He was looking directly at me. I smiled so as not to appear rude and he smiled back. "What are you looking for mate?" The truth was, I did not know what I was looking for. Hell, who does till it arrives. I shrugged my shoulders. "Not sure really." I gave a nervous laugh. "I can get you girls, nice ones, what are you into?" Before I could answer, he showed me his diamond encrusted jewellery and gold rings. I tried to look impressed as he told me how rich he was becoming through pimping. Undoubtedly, it must be interesting work but I was spending more time trying to discern what was underneath it all both literally and metaphorically. After he'd finished his monologue he asked me again if he could sell anything from his rather exotic `market stall'. "I prefer guys really, sorry to have wasted your time mate." "I can get guys too, what type of guy do you like, hey I've got a 23 year old guy, very fit?" "Actually, I think you're very attractive yourself but I don't really pay for it as yet. I guess as time goes by and I get older it may become a necessity... Not that there's anything wrong with paying, on the contrary, I think it saves alot of money on psychotherapy" He laughed. "If you like me then I am available, think about it." "Ok I will, uh...can I buy you a coffee, or are you busy?" "Sure, there's a place across the road." He pointed at an intimate Italian cafe, empty but for a young couple.
I went to pay for the coffees but he intervened. I carried the coffees to the window seat and looked out into the fluorescent dreams of night. I thought how strange it was that this human crucible can throw together such unlikely meetings. As I sipped my coffee I looked back at him and he seemed to be scrutinising me. I felt slightly uncomfortable under his gaze so I broke the silence. "I think really I have got you here under false pretenses you know, unless you just want to chat. Even this may be a little tedious for you as my life is far from eventful." "Well, I meet alot of people in my line of work and everybody wants something. I am just figuring out what you want." I would probably have compared myself with Dr Faustas at that moment but secularism is all that I have ever really understood. "What do you dream about?" His voice softened slightly as his eyes gave a sideways glance and then sidled back into the murky depths of his coffee. "Different things, I guess. Half the time I am not even sure if conscious thought is a kind of dream." "Yeah, I used think like that too." I was not sure if he was trying to humour me for my rather obtuse answer. "But you must have fantasies." "Yes, I have a few. but inhibitions usually get in the way." "Let go of them." He gave a sly smile and I felt a reassuring hand run up my leg from under the table. "Being seduced by a rogue has always been one of my fantasies." A gold tooth drew my eyes to his confident smile. Clearly he understood my allusion to himself. "I love sex, you have to in my kind of work. I mostly fk girls but I'll fk guys sometimes. That's what you want innit?" "Perhaps, although, this may sound misguided but I have this friend in Togo and, well I said that I would wait for him." "Is he waiting for you?" I decided not to answer that question and expose myself to criticism. "Ok, I know, Baroque!" he seemed triumphal and rather smug. "What?" I wondered if my friend was loosing the plot. "A club, I'm taking you there, drink up mate, my name's Des by the way." I shook his hand and smiled again. "Graham."
We left the cafe and I tried to keep up with his eager footsteps. We weaved through the milling crowds that spilled onto the roads. I caught snippets of conversations like news bulletins. Different dialects and languages mixed like the hues of the shop facades. Within a couple of turns, it seemed darker and the crowds more dispersed and distant. He lead me to the entrance of a dark narrow alleyway strewn with garbage bags and ushered me to follow him. Despite being a little drunk, I was not so brash as to follow blindly. "Sorry, Des, I would prefer not to follow you into there." Had he not laughed, I would have wandered back, although he did grab my coat sleeve which freaked me out a bit. I shook off his grip. He looked at me rather bemused. "Chill out man, I ain't gonna rob ya, look there's the door." My eyes adjusted to the gloom and sure enough a steel door broke the continuity of the brickwork. I still had reservations about it but in the clutches of fear, I decided to take a chance. "Ok, you first, and if you are going to beat me, please, spare my cute face." He laughed. "Yeah, you got a pretty face, white boy." I was unsure at that point if he fancied me or was fishing around for my latent desires to emerge. I managed to sidestep the garbage and joined him at the side door on which he knocked once. It opened and as we both stepped in, I could faintly hear the bassline of a familiar pop song. While I deliberated over that we stepped into a minimalist reception room. Recessed spotlights reflected like an upturned treasure chest in the smoky marble floor. An enormous doorman with cane row hair and a tuxedo looked at us. "Yo, Tyrone! how's it hangin bro" Des slapped palms with the giant and pressed fists together. "Cool bruv." The doorman flashed a metallic grin. "How was Venus....me chose er for ya." Des said enthusiastically. "She naaasty girl, she com bobbo pon me all night." I understood most of the doorman's Jamaican patois. Des laughed and said "Laters bruv, one." They brushed palms and we walked to a smoked glass wall at the far end of the room, I took a last glance at the doorman. He seemed to be looking at me so I gave him a demure smile and stood at the smoked glass wall. All of a sudden, doors slid back and we stepped into a small elevator. As the doors closed, Des looked me up and down and I put my eyes to the floor. "Check it out man." his eyes were on his own crotch where his cock had got hard and extended down his left leg. It looked huge and I could make out the outline of the thick head. "Nice." I decided at that point I did not want to massage his already inflated ego anymore than his inflated dick. "Kiss it." His voice became authoritative. "Kiss it yourself." He looked momentarily surprised but quickly regained his composure. Of course I would have loved to kiss the bulge but I wanted to remain an enigma to him for a while longer. I flashed a smile at him which seemed to annoy him. "Yeah pussy boy, laugh at me, cuz you ain't gonna be laughing later..." he looked pissed. "Sorry Des, I meant no offense." I looked back down at the floor as the doors slid open.
He lead me into another very contrasting and dimly lit room. It was decadently furnished with reproduction chairs and an ornate cloakroom counter topped with marble and embellished at the edges with gold leaf wrought iron. A full length mirror adorned the red velveteen wall, framed within golden filigree. I handed my jacket to the beautiful androgynous oriental guy who appeared from the cloakroom. He dutifully took Des's coat and disappeared into the half light. "Wait here." Des went into the bathroom as I looked into the mirror, beguiled by the events of the night. Des emerged dabbing his nose with the back of his hand and sniffing profusely. His eyes had become more dilated. The hard on in his trousers was once again evident. Des grinned at me and pushed open a door. "Welcome to Baroque, private members club, don't forget to tell your friends about it, the rich ones that is...." "Of course, thank you." At that point I realised that Des had kindly allowed me a free preview. Thudding music kicked out a bassline and dim footlights illuminated the edges of a stage in the centre of the darkened room. A perimeter of tables with ornate preternatural blue lights glowed dimly at each. We made our way to one near the stage and slid into sumptuous seats. I lit a cigarette and offered one to Des. As I lit his cigarette, fire danced in his eyes and cast off shadows into the gloom. "Carpe diem" I realised I had spoken it aloud. "What?" Des looked puzzled. "Seize the day, in latin, it was a popular saying during the 'Baroque' period."
And this was a moment seized. As the lights dimmed I noticed a a few other hunched figures shifting impatiently at tables. Des was ordering drinks as my attention returned to him. Within a couple of minutes two large drinks on ice arrived at the table courtesy of a smart young arabic waiter. It tasted like Absinth. The music stopped and the foot lights diminished into darkness.
I could hear footsteps on the dance floor and just about see multiple silhouettes filling it. For a moment, silence and tension, then, in an instant, the lights blazed and pounding electro pop kicked out a seductive melody. On stage, four pairs of dancers started to throw-down on stage in a `v' formation. Gyrating and twisting to the beats and dressed only in leather briefs and bondage harnesses stretched over their oiled chests. At the front, two well muscled black guys flexed their muscled stomachs as they thrust their hips suggestively at the small audience. Lifting their arms they wound their herculean bodies beneath the syncopated flashing of spotlights. Their hairy armpits already glittering with sweat. All the dancers had lifted their arms and moved with perfect synchonicity. Behind them, two tall arabic looking guys stood legs apart alternately flexing their biceps then putting their hands on their hips, mock-grinding the air. I looked at their hairy stomachs glistening with oils as they moved serpent like, staring moodily into the blackness. Close behind, two indian guys stretched and stomped barefoot. Their lithe bodies weaving a spell as their bulging leather pouches stabbed the air. The dancers formed a semi circle facing outwards and rested backwards on their arms, still pushing out their well filled pouches, sweat now shimmering on their recumbent bodies.
I knocked back the Absinth and more seemed to arrive while I gazed, enchanted by the siren calls of exotic flesh. I glanced at the other spectators and was sure some were masturbating in the swirling shadows. Des was rubbing his dick under the table and transfixed by the oriental dancers who now stepped to the fore. I started to feel the rush of my own hard on. The music slid into a funky bassline and dirty guitar. Blusey piano riffs danced around the merging performers, they started to unfasten their bondage harnesses, which dropped to the floor simultaneously. I stared at the black guy as his hands pushed downward on the slippery leather briefs revealing tufts of dark pubes. He pushed them lower so that the thick stem of his cock caught in the light. All the dancers now dropped their skimpy briefs and their large dicks slapped on their thighs as they gyrated their bodies, touching their oiled dicks and inducing slow climbing erections.
I started to feel intoxicated and looked at Des. He had pushed back his chair and was running his hand slowly up and down his exposed cock. Although in shadow, it curved upwards from his trousers and looked to be 10 glorious inches. It looked veined and ugly and was fatter at the base. It was uncut, the bulbous light brown head slipping fully out of the foreskin with each jerk. He looked at me and continued to pleasure himself. "You wan some?" his voice an octave lower than usual, smooth and bewitching like the voice of a secret lover. "Come on man, it wants you too." Again he looked annoyed at my reluctance . "I can't Des, it's too public." "Fk's sake, just get under the table before I get vex again." I slipped from my chair and crawled on the thick fleecy carpet. The music mixed into some drug induced trance music. Its anthemic keyboards filled my brain. Through the gap between table top and stage the dancers had started to push their hot naked bodies against each other, touching each other's hard dicks, sword fighting with them, indiscriminately exploring each other's flesh. I moved nearer Des's huge dick which he pushed it down at my mouth as I part emerged from the table. I let my unmoving lips rest on it and it smelt faintly of piss. He firmly grasped my head from behind and pushed my mouth onto it. "Ooooh..good boy." he exhaled, as it slid into my mouth. I part emerged from under the table and tried to let as much of his dick as I could into my throat. Both of his hands now clamped either side of my head and he started to fk my mouth, his rings dug into my ears as his grip tightened. As I knelt at his feet he tried to push his cock too far into my mouth and I felt myself on the verge of gagging so I pulled off. "Hey, keep da riddem." he was once again annoyed. I noticed him signal to one of the dancers but obediently kept slowly sucking his huge prick, making my lips tight around his slippery girth. As I looked up, one of the oriental dancers was kissing him passionately as he leaned back. His pale dick pushing against Des's shoulder. I pulled off Des's dark veined monster and allowed the oriental guy to massage it. To my shock, he broke off with his kiss and spat on Des's twitching cock, He straddled his legs and let the thing gradually slip up his hungry arsehole till it was fully embedded. They kissed some more and Des started making obscene grunts as he rapidly f**ked the guy from underneath, hands steadying and spreading his buttocks. He looked at me between kisses as I sat back on the chair and started to jerk off.
Everything seemed to be degenerating into something bestial, something unknown, yet it awoke a lust in me that seemed to consume my being. Bodies twisted and writhed, sweating and groaning lasciviously. On stage, an old spectator had mounted an indian guy who was on all fours as the old guy knelt behind, his trousers around his ankles. He seemed to f**k him mercilessly hard and I could hear their flesh slapping above the music. One of the black dancers was slipping his fat member into the indian guy's mouth. The music seemed to be looping on the same tune as bodies interlocked in complete abandonment. A twenty-something white guy stepped up onto the stage and started kissing the other black guy and arabic guy alternately while they jerked his ruddy and inflamed member. He knelt down and fumbled with his trousers, getting on all fours allowing the arabic guy to start pumping his expectant arse.
Des had broken into a sweat and continued to push up his slick fat cock into the oriental guy who was groaning and jerking rapidly, his hungry arsehole swallowing the whole length as he squatted up and down. Des pushed him off and got him onto all fours facing me. Without hesitation he spat on his oversexed dick and jammed it back into the guy's slackened hole. Again he looked at me and started to f**k him hard, quite indifferent to his yelps. "Bastard." I said but I could feel the tantalising pleasure the sight was giving me. I started to jerk faster, slipping a finger into my butt, my heart palpitating frantically.
Des grasped the guy's shoulders and started to plunge deeper and harder. The oriental guy was now rocking back on him, panting like a dog. Des slowed and savoured his moment of delight. Then grabbed him at the waist, pulling him back and ramming his cock fully inside while he spunked his entire load into the guy's arse with pounding thrusts and beast like grunts. After a couple more jerks the oriental guy lurched back and quivered shooting his load to the floor as Des emptied the last drops with slow hip gyrations. He pulled out and wiped the glistening spunk over the guys butt cheeks and back, making snail-trails. The oriental guy got up and leaked spunk as he walked back to the stage. Des looked at me, his cock still fully bloated.
On the stage the indian guy and old man were on their side facing me, the old guy f**cking him from behind and the black guy kneeling at his gaping mouth, smearing pre-cum on his lips. The old guy pulled out and growled as his cum squirted over the indian guys torso. He then forced it back in, making the indian guy cum. As he closed his eyes in ecstacy the black guy spunked his sticky jiz explosively into his open mouth.
Next to them half wreathed in shadow, the young white guy was being alternately fked by arabic and black dicks. He had hoisted up his arse, straight legged, like a bitch on heat and groaned with his head pressed to the stage. The arabic guy stood behind him and fked him with incredible speed, his hairy pendulous balls swinging in mid air. His angle changed to closer upward thrusts as he emptied his heavy sack into the reddened man c**t and gasped for joy. As he pulled out, cum dripped from shaft and he walked around the prone recipient, kneeling and wiping the residual jism into the guy's wavy blond hair. As soon as the black guy entered the filthy hole he must have hit a spot and the young white guy immediately came in lengthy squirts. The sweating black stud continued to pump his fat juicy dick in and out, the sweat from his forehead running down his grimacing face. As he pulled out his juice sprayed over the lilly white back.
I looked down and Des knelt before me, naked from the waste down. He had taken grip of my yearning dick. One hand pinched my nipple painfully then flicked it as it began to go red. He did the same on the other nipple while his firm grip tossed my cock. His lips seemed abrasive as they kissed and chewed the other nipple "Ow, it hurts a bit,.... ouch." He ignored my plaintive cries, but it was an exquisite pain. He let go of it and dragged my jeans to half mast. I slipped down onto my back and as he stood over me, my head pushed up against the lower upholstery of the chair. His legs straddled my chest as he pulled my hair to force my head onto his dirty cock. I could barely move my head in that position so he started to f**k my face hitting his cock on the back of my mouth so I could barely breath. I reached round his powerful legs and wanked my cock in time to his thrusting thighs. His dark ball sack occasionally tickling my chest. "Aaaah, pussy boy" he grunted and pulled out his gorged monster. With one hand he grabbed my hair, yanking my head forward and with the other he carefully aimed a powerful jet of love juice all over my face, squeezing his hips towards me. "Aaaah yeah" I closed my eyes and mouth as the warm spunk flowed one squirt after the other down my face. I was nearly coming and felt the delicious tingle in my balls. He leant back and licked two fat fingers. Fumbling for my arsehole, they found their mark and he forced them inside as I squirmed in ecstacy and pain he said "Cum for me, pussy boy." After two more jerks, I squirted my first shot up his back and he shoved his fingers in even further, the pain and rapture making my whole body shudder as I powerfully shot every drop of frustration up his back and shivered as the bliss radiated out through every fibre of my being.
In the dizzy after glow I felt affectionate towards him, but already he had started to get up and pulled on his tight trousers. I looked up, still wide eyed but his attention had moved on. I pulled up my jeans and looked at the distant guy who had been so intimate but now indifferently dressed himself. He grabbed his jacket and disappeared off to the bathroom. I realised that the lights were starting to come up, so did likewise.
As I washed my face I realised Des was not around and guessed from that point onwards that he probably sought new conquests and discoveries as he explored his inner desires. I found my way out into the chill night air and slipped into the cold sanctuary of shadows. I reached for a cigarette but found a business card. It read Baroque' and underneath it was printed Des...'
Note: Please forward any comments to the above email. I hope you enjoyed my story......Graham