Disclaimer: This story is about men having sex with men. If that's not your thing or you're too young to read it, please leave now. The author has no knowledge of Rob Van Winkle's sexuality, and has written this purely as a work of erotic fantasy fiction. Enjoy!
ICE ICE ... MAYBE
by Backlash29
I think I might have had really hot sex with Vanilla Ice last week. But I'm not actually sure it was him.
I was on some shitty business trip to Chicago, like I always seem to be. The office was up in Skokie, but after the first couple nights I had to get the hell out of there and drive down into the city for some action, or at least eye candy. I parked my rental car in Boystown and walked to the nearest bar I could find...kind of a dive bar, submerged half-way below the street, dark and smoky. It's actually my favorite kind of place.
The bar was half-empty, or I suppose on a better week, I would have called it half-full. Some young toughs in the back were playing pool under a dim lamp. Near the door when I walked in was a gaggle of bouncy young boy-bar flesh, giggling and making plans to jump to a nearby club. To either side of the dark, narrow area were the usual gallery of assorted horny types, like me.
I took a seat at the bar, and that's when I noticed him. We sat facing each other at opposite arms of the long U-shaped counter. Judging by his eyes and demeanor, he had a few hours' head start on me, drinking-wise. The first thing I noticed was he was cute and drunk, making him an easy target for my night's plans. I had to be at an 8 o'clock meeting the next morning, so the more efficiently I could pick up a trick, the better off I'd be. And not only was this stud seriously cute, he seemed to me fixing his foggy gaze on me.
(About me: 32, business consultant, runner's build. I look good enough in the suit I typically wear, but once it comes off I have to say I'm especially proud. Over the years since college I have honed my physique, and I'm now in the best shape of my life. I'm a trim 5-9/165 but I've got cuts and bulges in all the places men seem to want them. In my casual clothes at the bar that night, I showed off my chest and butt quite well.)
It was around this time, as my eyes got adjusted to the light, that I gradually realized this stud wasn't only attractive, he was vaguely familiar as well. Only I didn't know from where. He wore baggy gym pants, a long-sleeve white T-shirt, and the ever-trendy backwards A&F cap. He had a powerful, sturdy frame, a medium crew cut, and a sexy van dyke goatee, making him ostensibly like any other hunky clone you might see around Boystown or anywhere else...but in my mind I could swear I knew him. I just couldn't place it. Was he someone I'd met at home, in LA? Was he famous? Or...
At this point, I noticed he was getting off his stool and preparing to join me at mine. He carefully found his footing on the bar's concrete floor, and then--drink in hand--he made his way over, sidling up at my elbow.
"You're HOT," he announced, and from his voice I realized he was far more drunk than I thought.
"Uh, thanks," I said, chuckling. "You're...plenty cute, yourself."
He took a final swig of his cocktail and then slammed the glass down on the bar, glaring at the bartender until he was content that the next drink was on its way. Then he turned his focus (such as it was) back to me. "I'm Rob," he said, sticking out his big hand. I took the hand and shook it, sifting my brain for any Robs from my past who might have matched his description. Still nothing.
"Jared," I said, flashing my best smile. It was a winner, and it helped me all the time in my career.
"Jared..." Rob repeated, slurring and smiling in his own way. "Jared...you're really HOT."
This time I just laughed. I ordered a drink for myself, and while we waited, I tried my best to exchange the pleasantries that accompany this sort of boy-bar behavior and typically precede a night of glorious fucking.
"Do you live here in town?" I asked. I had to ask twice; his mind had drifted away from us momentarily.
"Nah," he said. "Fla-ri-da." He pronounced it in a long, distasteful nasal whine.
"Nice state," I said.
"It's shit," he said. "Where're you from?"
"LA," I told him, adding candidly, "also shit."
He nodded emphatically. "Spent some time there. I gotta agree."
My brow raised. Did I know him? Maybe I'd solve this mystery after all. "Yeah? What's your line of work?"
Rob was silent for a second, as the question sunk in to his alcohol-drizzled brain. When it did, he seemed to find it funny. He laughed for a moment, and then replied. "Work! Oh god, I wish I could work. I don't really work, not any more. At least...it don't feel like work." Then he hiccupped quietly, punctuating the thought.
I tried again. "What did you do in LA?"
"Entertainment industry," came his practiced answer, and he said it with a forlorn, sad sigh. "Jus' like every other fuckin' goon in that town tries to make it."
He had a point. I'd lived in LA for six years, and I was still the only person I knew who wasn't related to Hollywood or the music scene in some direct or indirect way. Our drinks came, and he instantly had a sip.
"Well..." I said, upbeat, sensing that Rob wanted to change the subject. "So..."
"Let's fuck," he interrupted me, and I cast a nervous laugh around me in case he was overheard. "Really. Jared. You're hot. I really like you. We...we should just fuck."
Rob was focused right on my face again, his pretty eyes and lips only a few inches from mine. Startled, I felt myself simply nod, and then I leaned in to kiss him. He was a great kisser. We made out for a minute, and a minute later we had devoured our drinks, and I was helping Rob into the passenger seat of my car.
Now, I'm not proud of myself for taking advantage of a drunk guy, but when he's as fine as this stud was, and he walks up to me in a bar and says to me point-blank "Let's fuck"--well, that doesn't happen very often, even for as much action as I'm proud to say I get. And like I said, I needed cock that night.
We got to my hotel in Skokie, and in the incandescent lamplight of the guest room, I tried once again to determine where I recognized him from. I didn't have much time to analyze it, though. Within seconds after shutting the hotel room door, Rob was on me, kissing me masterfully (he is exactly my height) and rubbing all over my shoulders and back with his strong hands. We fell on the bed and made out passionately. I smelled the rum on his breath from god-knows how many highballs, but it just turned me on even more.
Finally he fell back from our embrace and started pulling off his clothes. That's when I saw the tattoos. I couldn't believe how many this stud had. A Scorpion on his shoulder. A band around his bicep, just below that. A colorful collage on the muscles of his left lower leg. His wrist, his other arm, his chest...they were all over, and his muscle tone made them sexy as hell. I looked over this tattooed hunk's wonderful body, wanting to taste and feel every inch of him, and I didn't know where to start. Reaching over, I hit the lights.
He smiled up at me seductively, and I got the sense he was sobering up. He said in a soft voice: "Jared, take your clothes off. I wanna see you naked, man." I obeyed, pulling off my cotton oxford and wiggling out of my khaki pants. Seeing me, Rob whistled. "Looks fine, man, looks really fine. Oh yeah. Let's go!"
"What do you want me to do?" I whispered.
Rob smiled and shut his eyes, stretching out on the bed. "Just do me, man. I like it all. Whatever you want." He reached forward and grabbed my throbbing erection through my cotton briefs. "This feels nice, baby. You want me to suck this for a while?" he cooed in his soft, sexy tone.
"Oh yeah!" I definitely loved how verbal he was being. It was a hot counterpoint to his gruff appearance.
Rob scooted forward into a half-sitting, half-reclining position, and reached into my briefs to pull out my thick nine-inch dick. "Mmm, Jared babe, this looks nice! I can't wait to suck it down."
I remained on my knees on the hotel bed as I watched my aching cock disappear into this tough beauty's pretty mouth. His eyes were still closed, and his ball cap still on backwards, as he gently inhaled my cock and started moving it expertly in and out between his lips. His tongue coated the entire fleshy surface of my shaft, head, and balls as he deep-throated me in long, beautiful strokes. Moaning, I rested my hand on his cap and slowly pushed my hips forward in time with his oral ministrations, fucking his handsome face.
Rob was a devoted cocksucker, and he went at my meat like it was his duty to give it as much pleasure as possible. In truth, it seemed to give him immense pleasure, as well. It always turned me on to meet a seriously macho type and then watch him turn into a cock-hungry sissy-boy once I've got him in bed.
After a few minutes of sucking, he pulled off to catch his breath. He continued stroking my dick, sticky with his saliva, as his dark eyes fluttered open and he looked up at me sweetly. "This is really nice, Jared," he said. I agreed with a smile, and put my hand back on his head, guiding my cock back into his mouth.
Then I noticed Rob's cock, sticking out of his tighty whities. It was huge and engorged, at least one full inch longer than mine! The tip of it was sticking out from under his waistband, and it leaked precum onto Rob's hairy, trim belly. I instantly wanted to taste it, so I crawled over him and we got into a 69. In this position, I could continue fucking slowly in and out of Rob's mouth from my superior angle, while he used his newly-free hands to pull his underwear off and feed me his own dripping, ten-inch uncut monster.
I loved sucking Rob's huge cock. It was the fleshiest, most delicious dick I'd sucked in a very long time. I was lost in ecstasy as I slowly made my way up and down Rob's luscious pole in long, sucking strokes. He tasted fantastic, and as sometimes happened when I saw and felt and tasted a cock this big and beautiful, I began to imagine what it would feel like up my ass. I'm usually a top, but my butt gets twitchy when I find a cock as hot as this one, especially when it's hanging off a gorgeous, tattooed, sexy muscle god like Rob.
I got a little tired from elevating myself over him, so I spun around and decided to give Rob's cock my full oral attention. I knelt subserviently at the foot of the mattress and bowed down between his legs to deliver the sluttiest blow-job I knew how. I deep-throated him energetically, making his scream and moan with sheer bliss. I ran my lips and tongue over his knob and up and down his shaft, making love to Rob's engorged tool like a cheap whore, priming his pump to the brink of cumming with every inward stroke.
Gradually I became aware that Rob was not only pumping his hips to fuck me face, but also he was lifting his whole lower body to get his butt off the mattress. Taking his cue, I grabbed his ankles and draped his long, sexy legs over my shoulders, hooking them across my back, and then lifted his butt with both hands to give my lips and tongue easy access further down. I saw his tangy, musky butthole wink at me from inside its brim of manly hair, and a half-second later I stuck my whole face in it, licking and slurping madly on his divine ass. Rob squealed with obvious pleasure, so I grunted and pushed in farther, tonguing deep.
After a few minutes, he cried out: "Oh shit bro, oh man, Jared...I want you to fuck me! I want your dick in my hole! Please...oh stud...that's so good, rimming my hot ass, I gotta feel your cock inside me...NOW!!"
No problem there. I still wanted his big throbbing cock inside me later, but a little flip-flop action would also suit the evening's mood quite nicely. I'd bitch-fuck this stud, and then let him take his turn with me.
Not one to bother with much ceremony--especially when a hot stud is writhing underneath me, begging for my cock--I spat in my hand, rubbed it on my cock, rolled Rob onto his knees, pointed the tip of my shaft at Rob's exposed butt, and simply thrust inside. He groaned deeply and loudly at my initial intrusion, but a second later me had his strong hands on my hips and was pulling firmly, keeping me inside. He opened his eyes and looked up at me, breathless and smoldering with pent-up desire.
"Oh shit Jared, I've needed this so-o-o-o bad..." he groaned back to me, his cheek against the mattress and I grabbed both sides of his hard, fleshy butt to prepare my leverage. "You have no idea..."
"I think I do," I said softly, and then I started to fuck him--doggy-style, like a true horny bitch loves it.
Rob was like a wild animal with my cock inside him. With every thrust I made into his accommodating male pussy, he howled with delight, grunted, moaned, and pushed back energetically against my humping body, meeting me blow-for-blow. I power-fucked him deep and hard, my favorite way to do it, with no slowing down. I made it last as long as I could, but after ten minutes or so, I felt my cum boiling up.
Rob felt it, too, or at least he sensed it in my expression. "Oh yes-s-s Jared..." he moaned, slapping the headboard. "Fill me up, man, cum in me, fill my hole...fill up this slut's ass with all your cum-m-m-m..."
And so I did, giving him my seed, fucking him as hard as possible as spray after spray of hot sperm blew out of my cock and filled up his hungry hole. I shot more cum in him than I'd shot in the last ten asses I had fucked. He drained me. It seemed to go on forever, and Rob's butt milked me dry with every thrust.
When I had finished, I collapsed on to of him, exhausted and sweaty, and we kissed some more.
"What else do you want, baby?" he asked me sweetly.
"Your...cock..." I managed to say, still struggling to catch my breath and gather my wits. "I...want you to fuck me...with that huge bone..."
Rob smiled, and kissed me some more. Then, when he sensed I was breathing normally again, he rolled us both over, until he was on top of me, spreading my lithe runner's legs and wrapping them around his firm, tattooed torso. It felt so good, so right, to be on my back in front of such a hot man as this.
"I'll fuck you good and slow," Rob said to me, in a soft voice. "I'll do it as long as you like. All night, baby. I'll cum in your ass and stay hard, and keep fucking you until I cum again. You just lie there and enjoy."
And that's exactly what we did. As the moonlight angled in the windows of the hotel, illuminating the handsome features and awesome body of my bar pick-up stud, he pumped his cock in and out of me in long, even strokes, fucking me endlessly for most of the night. When he needed a break, he'd lean gently forward and we'd kiss and nap for a while, his huge bone still hard and buried inside my ass. Then he'd go back to fucking me. Every few hours he'd pick up the tempo slightly, and in a rush I'd realize he was going to cum. He would moan slightly at the moment of climax, and I'd feel his jizz escape into me. Then, as promised, he'd keep his hard cock inside me, and when we both felt ready, he'd start fucking me again.
By the time sunrise rolled around, I had seven of his sweet loads deep inside my ass. I told him I had to get up soon and get ready for a meeting, and so with a smile he lifted my legs and pounded my hole ever harder, shooting load number eight into me at the same precise moment that I blew mine all over my chest.
Then, as we were kissing and uncoupling that very last time, it suddenly occurred to me who he was. Or, who he might be. "Rob." Entertainment industry. Florida. Tattoos. Wait, could this possibly be...?
"Rob?" I whispered, not sure how to ask him.
"Yeah babe?"
"What...uh, I mean...in LA, what...kind of entertainment did you do?"
He gazed at me for a moment, smiling, then shut his eyes and rolled onto his back. Finally, he responded. "You know, Jared...I guess I'd rather not say."
I decided to let it drop. He seemed peaceful, and I didn't want to agitate him. A few minutes later, we got up and showered, and I had time to drop him back down at his car in Boystown before heading back up to Skokie for my meeting. He'd left me his tighty-whities, and I carried them around in my briefcase all day.
I never did find out if "Rob" really was Mr. Ice in the flesh, but god, what amazing flesh it was. I'd love to think that it was the white rapper himself who took my cock in both ends that night, and then plowed me with his own pile-driving ten inches until dawn. For a laugh, I might even to try track down some of his old videos to jerk off to. Drunk or not, famous or anonymous, he was definitely one hot fuck.
THE END
What do you think? Feedback and suggestions? backlash29@hotmail.com
My other stories are: "Ryan's Hole", "Ryan Goes Down", "40 Days and 39 Nights", "Enrique, Justin and Eminem", "Swimslut" and "Bulletproof Hunk" in Gay/Celebrities; "Seann and Justin" in Gay/Celebrities/Boy Bands; "Group House", "Birthday Slut", "Frat Slut Gangbang" and "Substitute Slut" in Gay/College; "Week-end Hotel Party" and "Road Trip Slut" in Gay/Encounters; "Slutty Lil' Bro" in Gay/Incest; "Cup of Joe" in Gay/Authoritarian; and "Buttsex Junkie" in Bisexual/Beginnings.