Hey Guys, this is the beginning of a new series of short stories. As always, they involve man 2 man sex, and also as always, I try to make the reading as fun with one hand as whith two. If that sort of thing offends you, then I suggest you find something else to read. I have a reading list, which I will gladly provide, if my stories don't turn out to be your particular sound of one hand clapping.
Best, Stony
P.S. I do like to hear from my readers, so if you'll take the time to e-mail me at: cqsqfq@hotmail.com I will take the time to answer. Enjoy!
Bar Tender
I'm not a bar faggot. In fact, I don't drink much at all. Maybe a glass of wine at the Christmas party of a beer at the beach or ball park, but I've never really developed a taste for the stuff. This happened a few weeks ago, and I thought you might find it interesting enough to print.
I'd been to the beach all day, working on my tan, and as the sun started to go down, I gathered my stuff together, and headed back to my car. I was putting my beach gear in my trunk, when this dude on rollerblades cruised up an told me I had a flat tire.
"Shit," I said, and thanked him for the wonderful news. I looked around, but couldn't find a jack. I never really concerned myself about changing tires, and I suppose my four year old used car never had a jack. I do have the auto service from my insurance company, so I dug the card out of my bag, and headed for the nearest phone for help.
It turned out to be a little bar right at the entrance to the parking lot. I scooted in, and headed for the phone which was on the wall between the two toilets. The place was empty, except for a table of guys that were absorbed in a soccer game being announced in some language I couldn't understand. I made my call, and was asked where I was located. I told them which beach, and they asked me to be more specific.
"Hold on a sec." I turned and looked at the table full of guys, but they all looked three sheets to the wind. The bartender was bored, polishing glasses. He had a cute little bow tie on and a frill down the front of his white shirt. I thought about shouting, but decided it was uncouth. I tripped over to the bar and said excuse me.
"Yeah?"
"What's the name of this place?" He told me, and I thanked him and went back to the phone. The dispatcher told me I had to stay put, that it could be awhile, with all the calls they were getting. I hung up and went back to the bar.
I must have been muttering or something when the bartender swiped the bar in front of me with a wet rag, and asked; what'll it be.
"Wine," I said, without thinking about it.
"Red or white?" I looked up at him for the first time, and smiled. He smiled a very sexy smile, and waited.
"Uh red, I guess." He poured the wine and sat the glass in front of me.
"You got troubles?"
"Flat tire."
"Can't you fix it?"
"No jack." I took a sip of wine. He smiled at me.
"I've got one in my car you could use."
"Oh, no thanks. I'm not much into changing tires."
"Me neither, but I can have the dishwasher do it if you've got a fiver to give him."
"Oh you sweet thing you." He smiled again, and I smiled back at him.
"Hey Carlos?" He shouted toward the back of the bar. A young Mexican man stuck his head out of a swinging door. "You want to make an extra five bucks?" When Carlos assented, he took his car keys out of his pocket, and asked me for mine. "Where are you parked?" I told them, and Carlos took the keys and headed out the door after hearing the mission.
"I'm Greg," he offered me his hand. I told him my name, and thanked him for his kindness. I told him I had to call the auto service company to cancel the call, and he handed me a phone from under the counter. I made my call, and then went back to sipping my wine.
"You know Greg, you didn't have to go out of your way to help me with this problem."
"I guess it's just my upbringing. I'm a pushover for people in trouble." Carlos was back in a jiffy, and handed our keys back. I gave him the five, and thanked him for the help. He said de nada, and disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Can you recommend the food here?" I asked, feeling my empty stomach beginning to react to the wine.
"No food until later. The cook doesn't come on until six, and it's just hamburgers and sandwiches. Are you hungry?"
"A little. I haven't eaten all day."
"My shift is over at six, which is just fifteen minutes. I know a nice little Greek place not far from here, if you'd care to join me."
"Are you into Greek?" I smiled at him.
"In a big way. How about you?" He was grinning from ear to ear.
"The last Greek I had, left me sore for a week." He laughed outloud, and put his hand over mine on the bar. His replacement bartender strolled in about then, and he said he'd change into his civilian clothes and be right out. He came back, wearing the same pants, but had pulled on a very tight muscle shirt that showed off every bulge he had.
"Come on," he said. "Let's walk. It's only a block." We left the bar, and he led the way to a cozy little place where we each had Spanikopida, and a Greek salad.
"Can I invite you up to my place to see my etchings?" He held my hand under the table, and tickled my palm with a finger. My cock was already reacting.
"Of course you can," I said. "I can't wait." We finished our meal quickly, and he insisted on paying with his tip money for the day. We walked back to our cars, in the lot, as the last of the light from the sun disappeared from the sky. He told me to follow him, and when he tapped his breaks three times, to park where ever I could find a space. We drove into Long Beach, and when he tapped, there was a nice spot handy. He parked in the spot allotted for his apartment, and waited until I hurried up the walk.
I was still wearing my swimming trunks, and my open shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. My beach sandals made clipclop sounds on the sidewalk of the quiet street. He led the way up the stairs to the second floor, and opened the door to his apartment, and ushered me in.
"Take your things off," he said, pulling his sexy shirt over his head. I was stripped out of what little I had on, and watched him pull his pants off his sweet little butt. When he turned around, his cock was already semihard.
"I'm glad you agreed to come home with me. You made my dick hard the minute I saw you in the bar."
"Really?"
"I wouldn't lie about a thing like that. I'm so fucking horny, I'm beside myself. I'm tired of jerking my meat every night. I don't get out much, because I hate the bar scene. Too many drunks."
"God, I know what you mean. I wouldn't have even come into your place today if I hadn't needed help."
"I'm glad you did." He stepped over to me, and took me in his arms. We kissed briefly, and groped dick for a while, before he led me into his bedroom. He wasted no time, putting me into position to give me a rim job. His tongue was working wonders on my hole, and I could feel his horn nudging my leg with anticipation. My own cock was rampant, and looking for someplace to hide its head.
Greg rolled me over, and gobbled my shaft, until I objected to the onesidedness of the act. We pulled a sixty-nine, and I loved the feel of his big piece of meat fucking my mouth. He brought me to the edge several times, but was always careful to back off before I actually lost it. He had more stamina than I did, and only came close once that I was aware of.
He got out some rubbers, and lube, and proceeded to goop up his and my fingers with the lube. We spent more than enough time, running our fingers in multiple digits in and out of each other's assholes. By the time we were both breathing heavy again, he said he was ready to take me up his butt.
He peeled a rubber and ran it down my shank, then repeated the operation on himself. He laid back on the bed, and grabbed his legs behind the knees, and opened wide. I didn't waste a second, and plunged into his opened hole with my eight inch fucktool. He moaned, and I began to plow his furrow good. I was so fucking hot to shoot by then, that I found myself climbing the heights within a few minutes.
"Oh shit Greg, I'm gonna blow it right now!" He grabbed his own stiff dick, and held it up straight in the air.
"O.K. baby," he said. "Get up on this before you cum. Take your rubber off. I want it in my face. I plowed him a couple of times more, and then flew into the air by some kind of magic, which I later realized was his muscular arms lifting me, and plunged my hungry asshole down around his beautiful cock. I ripped off my rubber, and my cum started blasting him in the face. His mouth was open, and he was doing his best to catch the heavy ropes of my cum.
My assring clamped down tight on him, and he groaned and flipped me over onto my back and was somehow above me suddenly. He was pounding me hard, and suddenly my ass was empty. He whipped off his cum sock, and jerked himself empty in my face. I caught at least three good squirts of his spunky cream with my tongue. We rested for a while, and watched some hot videos he had. After an hour, it started again. We did it three times, before we fell into an exhausted sleep. He woke me up in the morning, laying on my stomach, while he was stuffing his porkroll into my oven once again.
We see each other several times a month now, and He's looking for a job bartending closer to where I live, so we can move in together. He's one hell of a tender guy, and I thank the gods every day that I had a flat that day at the beach. I don't think I've ever been fucked with so much passion before, and can't wait for the next session to get started. I'm sitting at my computer typing this bare butt naked lubed and rubbered waiting for him to get here so I can rip his clothes off and fuck him silly. And him me of course.
End