This story contains sexual situations between two males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
I woke in the morning to the sounds of seagulls calling their breakfast orders to the sunbathers on the beach. Although the curtains were drawn in my bedroom, I could tell the sun was strong outside and it was going to be another scorcher of a day in Coolangatta.
My brain was registering the need for caffeine and my bladder was telling me I urgently needed a piss. I climbed out from under the covers and headed for the bathroom, my rampant rock python leading the way, as always first thing in the morning.
My head cleared as my bladder emptied and I suddenly remembered The Kiss. Fuck, Tyson Hill had kissed me last night. On the lips. This unbelievably gorgeous hunk of rock star – my musical idol and secret crush – had played tonsil hockey with me.
Sure, I'd upped the ante on his publishing deal from a miserable $15K to $250K, which is true cause to celebrate. A grateful handshake I expected, even a big hug would have been appropriate. But he kissed me! On the lips. And it wasn't a quick blokey kiss; it was a full-on, deep, penetrating mouth wrestle, and all these hours later I could still taste him.
I padded naked to the kitchen and switched on the percolator. As I prepared the coffee I realized that my cock was still hard, despite the fact I'd already pissed like a racehorse. No wonder!
As the coffee began to drip I took myself back to the bathroom, shaved and then stepped into the shower. I couldn't erase the image of Ty's handsome face closing in, and the faint smell of his cologne as his soft, full lips locked with mine.
My hand slid down my chest, through my pubes and I started doing a loner with my boner. My eyes were closed and I stroked to images of Ty's hot body and beautiful smile as the lyrics of "Love On The Rocks" played in my head. My cock felt like granite, and while I willed myself to prolong the pleasure, the mechanics took over and I let out an audible groan as the first volley of cum raced from `the boys in the basement', through my shaft and spurted from the eye of my dick. By now I was leaning against the tiled wall of the shower and, with my cock upright in my hand, that first spurt splattered just under my chin, followed by another four or five of equal force.
I had to reach for the taps to steady myself lest my legs give way, and as I stood panting I watched the ropes of my spent ball batter swirling around the drain. Stepping out, I dried myself and, with a towel around my waist, I walked back to the kitchen. I'd just taken my first mouthful of head-clearing coffee when the doorbell rang. It was probably George delivering the morning newspapers.
I opened the door to find Ty, dressed in his customary butt-hugging Levis and tee-shirt, beanie pulled down over his head and a wide, brilliant smile lighting up his face.
"Morning mate!" he beamed, with no remorse or even self-consciousness about what happened in that very same spot the previous night.
"Hey Ty!" I grinned. "Come on in"
Ty strolled through the door and into the lounge, remarking as he did, "it was briefs when you answered the door yesterday, and just a towel today. What will it be tomorrow? Your birthday suit?"
"Well you always seem to arrive just when I've got out of the shower," I smirked. "Just like the Jehovah's Witnesses!"
"I'm not here to save your soul, mate!" he laughed. "And the only Watchtower' you'll get from me is All Along The Watchtower', in the key of C minor!"
"Coffee?"
"Yeah, just a quickie though," Ty replied. "Gotta get everything organized for the showcase tonight. I just wanted to let you know we'll need to leave here at 1. We'll drive to Coolangatta airport and fly to Cairns, then do the transfers."
"I'll need to jump online and book a ticket," I said.
"No need, mate," Ty grinned. "I already had a ticket for Scotty and seeing he's going home today, you can have it."
"Well let me fix you up for it, then," I said.
"Are you kidding Mike?" Ty asked. "You just got me a quarter million dollar deal for my songs, and you think you should pay for an airline ticket? Mate, this gig's on me. Five star all the way! And we're gonna need to work out how you get compensated for pulling that deal off."
I could think of several ways I could be compensated, all of them involving the hidden treasure between Tyson's Hill's magnificent ass cheeks, but it seemed more prudent to just say, "it was nothing, Ty. Consider it pro bono."
Ty laughed. "Pro bono! I like that, even though I don't know what it means! It's either the dude from U2's nickname or some obscure reference to your dick!"
I almost shuddered when he mentioned my dick. If only he knew! "It's a legal term, mate! It's Latin and it means `for the public good'."
"Oh," he said. "Never was much good at languages. Maybe it's time I brushed up on a foreign tongue!"
I wanted to offer my tongue for him to brush up on. I wanted to offer him everything I had, including the column of flesh that was registering an expression of interest beneath my towel, despite having so recently been deflated. Instead, I changed the subject.
"Will I get to say goodbye to Scott before he heads home?"
Ty put his empty coffee cup on the bench and picked up his wallet and keys. "I'll send him up later. He's still packing and he's cracked the sads. He really wanted to see the showcase."
I saw Ty to the door and he squeezed my shoulder as he left. "See you at 1, mate," were his parting words. No kiss this time, but I did get another lingering look at his great ass, displayed to perfection inside the fading denim of his jeans. It made me think how hungry I was!
I threw on shorts and a tee and went for a run, stopping on my way back for a hearty outdoor breakfast. I was just finishing a fruit salad when Scott wandered up to the table.
"Hey Scott," I smiled. "I was hoping I'd see you before you went home."
"Yeah, I was going to come by your apartment, but then I saw you from the beach. Guess it's time to say goodbye?"
"I guess so, mate," I said. "When do you leave?"
"My bus leaves in 90 minutes. Ty's driving me to the depot."
"I'm sorry your holiday got cut short mate. I feel kinda bad that I'm taking your place for Ty's showcase."
"Yeah I really wanted to see him play, and I've always wanted to go to Bedarra Island," Scott said dejectedly. "But I'm glad you're going along with him. I still can't believe you got him so much money for his songs. I'm really glad I asked you about it."
"I was happy to be able to do it Scott," I said. "That McPhersons deal was really bad and I only managed to get him what the catalogue is really worth."
"Well he's really grateful Mike," Scott smiled. "He keeps talking about it. He really likes you, you know. Now that he's famous he doesn't really have any good friends, except for a couple of mates back home in Stanthorpe. It's a bit hard for him to trust people, but he reckons he can trust you."
"He's a great guy," I said. "I think we'll be great mates."
"Well, better get going I suppose," said Scott ruefully.
I stood and held my arms out, and gave Scott a hug. "Glad I met you Scott," I smiled. "Maybe I'll see you again somewhere down the track."
"Yeah, I hope so too," Scott replied. "Thanks for everything. You know, the dinner, the massage, getting Ty a good deal."
"Pleasure, kiddo."
Scott gave me the `thumbs up' before turning and trudging back to the apartments. As he walked away, I realized why he'd seemed vaguely familiar when I first saw him. He was a younger version of Ty; the same facial features, the same basic build and of course, the same incredible ass. And, come to think of it, the same full, soft lips; I wondered whether they tasted anything like his older brother's?
I shook my head to clear if of such an inappropriate thought, paid the bill and headed back to my apartment. I checked my email, and sent a long and thankful message to Ben Chappell for orchestrating the upgraded publishing deal for Ty.
At midday I threw together a sandwich and then grabbed a small suitcase and filled it with what I thought I might need for an overnighter on Bedarra. I thought about calling Ty and asking what I should wear for his al fresco media showcase, but figured it was probably not the `rock industry' thing to do. It's a tropical island – so I guessed I'd be safe dressing as I would for any Queensland evening function.
At 12:50, the phone rang; it was Ty, asking me to meet him out front of the apartments in 10 minutes. I had enough time to eat a small bunch of grapes before grabbing my bag, wallet and sunnies, and hit the elevator. I strode through the lobby and saw George walking towards me.
"Good morning Mr Stewart," he smiled with his customary courtesy.
"Good morning, Mr. um, George," I grinned back.
"Mr Hill is waiting for you in the car."
Out front, George walked ahead carrying my bag and opened the door of a magnificent silver2010 BMW 550i Gran Turismo, which comes with a price tag of around $150K. Ty was belted up in the driver's seat as I hopped in next to him.
"Nice wheels, mate!" I grinned. "How the other half lives!"
"I wish," Ty laughed. "The record company hired it for me for these few days. My own car is still at Mum and Dad's in Stanthorpe and it's so old, the insurance covers fire, theft and ambush by bushrangers!"
With a wave to George, we were off and the car glided through traffic for the 20 minutes it took to reach Coolangatta airport. As we pulled up at the valet parking counter, Ty hopped out, grabbed his luggage and guitar and went into what I realized was probably his usual routine ... sunnies on, beanie pulled down, collar pulled up, trying to look as unlike Tyson Hill as possible.
I trotted along behind him as he strode purposely to the business class check-in counter and in lightning time we were ushered through to the business lounge. It was only once we were behind those closed doors that Ty started to relax.
"You OK mate?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm good," he responded. "Airports are the worst. It only takes one person to spot you and suddenly there's a swarm. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm lucky that people seem to care so much and want to say hello, but it still freaks me out a bit."
We had enough time for a quick cold beer before our flight to Cairns was announced as boarding, and a few minutes later we were seated, preparing for the two hour flight to far north Queensland.
As the plane climbed through the clouds, I realized how much I was looking forward to this overnighter. Not only was I going to see Tyson Hill perform in a setting few people would ever get to enjoy, but I'd always wanted to experience the Bedarra resort.
Bedarra Island is a privately owned island off the coast of Queensland, completely made of granite and part of the mainland until about 8000 years ago when sea level rises caused it to drift. An exclusive getaway for the rich and famous, it has only 16 luxury villas, accommodating a maximum of 32 people (and – thankfully - no children under any circumstances!) Each villa was apparently placed for absolute privacy, along with breathtaking views of ocean and tropical rainforest.
Ty spent most of the flight filling me in on what was to come. His record company was hosting the event, as a thank-you for the select rock media who'd supported him when the first single was released. There'd be an outdoor buffet dinner, followed by a 40-minute acoustic performance from Ty, and then we'd stay overnight and return the following day.
Ty also rattled through the people I'd meet; his manager Vince, his agent Tony, his publicist Monique and an assortment of other people in his extended entourage whose names I was sure I'd never remember.
"Are you sure they're not going to mind me tagging along?" I asked.
"Of course not, mate," he smirked. "They know about the publishing deal and they love you. Believe me. Vince especially. He gets 20%! Besides, I'm Tyson Hill and apparently I can do anything I fucking well like because I'm a rock star, and rock stars please themselves!"
After touching down in Cairns, we quickly transferred to another terminal where smaller, transfer flights took off. We boarded a small aircraft and flew to Dunk Island where a driver whisked us to a jetty and a small boat was waiting to ferry us to Bedarra.
In just over 20 minutes, we were offloaded at Bedarra jetty and waiting for us was Ty's publicist. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said, "Monique, this is Mike Stewart, my lawyer."
I was taken aback by the introduction but didn't show it. Monique and I shook hands and she was all smiles; "I've heard all about you, Mike. In fact, we all have. Vince calls you `Money Man'!"
In reception, my head almost spun as I met `the team'. Everyone was friendly and welcoming, more so than I thought they'd be. They were also generous in their praise for the job I'd done getting Ty a good publishing deal.
The last person I was introduced to was Vince Cometti, Ty's manager, who was without doubt the hairiest dude I've ever met. He was wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt which was undone. Hairy chest, hairy stomach, hairy legs, hairy arms. He was clean shaven, but his 5 o'clock shadow was already at 10 o'clock.
I usually take an instant dislike to artists' managers, but I warmed to Vince right away. He was an Italian guy, perhaps late 30s. He was a fast talker, but friendly and complimentary.
"I'm glad Ty's got himself a good lawyer at last," Vince enthused.
"Oh, I'm not actually his lawyer," I tried to explain. "I just put him in front of The Song Factory."
"Actually, I want you to be my lawyer Mike," Ty cut in. "What do you say?"
"Well, yeah, sure mate," I said, surprised. "But please don't feel any obligation. I wasn't looking for a gig."
"I know you weren't mate," said Ty. "But I need people around me I can trust because I'm still getting my head around this whole music industry thing."
"Well if you say so, Ty, I'd be glad to represent you."
"I do say so," he grinned. "And when I say so, everyone has to agree, because I'm Tyson Hill."
Vince chuckled and smacked Ty across the back of the head. "You're full it, you know that Hill?" he laughed.
"You're right Vince, I'm full of it," Ty replied. "And that means you're 20% full of it."
"I made you, Hill, and I can break you!" he grinned.
"Yeah, yeah" was Ty's response. "Keep an eye on him for me Mike, and let me know when you find me a real manager!"
Vince guffawed and shook both our hands. "Gonna have a wander around. There's a few other guests on the island, so I'll see if I can't find myself a rich bitch who needs to feel wanted."
As he strode off, Ty called out, "She'll end up exploited like me!"
Without turning back, Vince flipped him the bird, and Ty said to me, "I love Vince. I think of him like an older brother. Who should be institutionalized."
The introductions over, Ty picked up his key and we wandered off down the path to one of the two "Pavilions" villas the resort offered. A short walk led us to a tropical vision. Ahead of us overlooking Wedgerock Bay was a huge open plan condo, made primarily of timber and glass.
Inside, a spacious sleeping area with a floating bed, a huge, separate bathroom with shower and deep bath overlooking the rainforest, a massive and luxuriously appointed living area with a full bar, a large screen TV, DVD player, work desk and computer. Outside on a whopping balcony was a private plunge pool, sun lounges and a daybed.
"Shit, this is OK!" said Ty enthusiastically, as he dropped his bags on the bed.
"Man," I replied, "I reckon this place is so exclusive, even room service has an unlisted number!"
Unsure of where I would be sleeping, I was still holding my luggage until Ty said, "just chuck it on the bed, mate."
Did that mean we'd be sharing a bed? I guess it did, unless I was going to crash for the night on an outdoor daybed. Me, sleeping with Tyson Hill? Never in my wildest dreams ...
No sooner had I dropped my bag in the bedroom than Ty's mobile started ringing and he took a series of calls, mostly relating to the evening's performance. He patiently answered questions, asked a few of his own, and between them, managed to ring reception and organize for some `snacks' to be sent over.
Twenty minutes later, a very pretty girl delivered a platter of canapés, along with a complimentary bottle of Moet champagne and two chilled crystal glasses. As Ty handed her a tip, she slipped out a copy of `Love On The Rocks' and a pen and sheepishly proffered them. "Would you mind?"
"Of course not," Ty grinned. "What's your name?"
"Kelly"
Across the CD cover, Ty wrote "To Kelly, lots of love, Tyson Hill xxx".
"Wow, thanks so much. I can't wait to hear you sing!"
As she left, Ty popped the cork and poured us both a glass of Moet. "Cheers mate," he said, clinking his glass with mine. "Here's to a great night!"
We both stood on the balcony looking out over the bay and when the bubbles were gone, Ty said he was needed for a sound check.
"You can come if you like Mike," he said, "but it's pretty boring. You might prefer to see the show when we've got all the kinks ironed out."
"Yeah mate," I smiled. "I'll just stay here and unpack."
Ty squeezed my shoulder, grabbed his guitar and headed off for the marquee where his showcase was being staged. I watched him as he made his way along the path to the main reception area, marveling at his confident gait and of course, salivating over those beautiful buns.
Back inside, I opened my suitcase and started hanging clothes in the walk-in wardrobe. When I'd finished, I took a chance and unpacked Ty's bag, hanging his gear next to mine. I smiled to myself when I found his socks and jocks at the bottom of the bag. I picked them all up and dropped them straight into a drawer, resisting the temptation to inhale them.
I necked a beer and sat on the couch, flicked on the TV and watched the resort's informative presenter, pointing out the many amenities and sights. Catamarans, sailboards and paddle skis, fishing, snorkeling, motorised dinghies to explore beaches and neighboring islands, gourmet picnic hampers for beachside lunches. Pity we'd have no time to take advantage.
In the distance, I could vaguely hear Ty tuning his guitar and singing a few words on mike, trying to balance the sound.
I checked my mobile and realized I had a few missed calls. I returned two calls to mates back in Melbourne, who just wanted to shoot the shit.
An hour or so later, the room phone rang. It was Monique, the publicist, suggesting I wander over in about 10 minutes so I could enjoy some food before the show started.
I stayed in my jeans and sneakers, changed my shirt, slapped on some cologne and brushed my teeth, and headed off towards the marquee. Even in the distance is looked spectacular. It was small, to accommodate only about 24 people, but it was lit externally with fairy lights, which were also strung through the surrounding palm trees, and the inside was lit with candles.
Two huge TVs screened muted footage from Ty's live-in-concert DVD. I smiled to myself; it was the same DVD I'd bought the day it came out, and I'd had a tug while watching it that very night.
There was a small stage inside the marquee, set up with just microphone stands and a stool, ideal for an intimate, acoustic performance. Through the room were several tables for two and a couple of four seaters. Along one side of the marquee was an elaborately set buffet which groaned under the weight of seafood platters, cold meats, salads, vegetables, and assorted hors d'oeuvres, while a selection of tiered, gourmet desserts sat on a smaller table.
I loaded a plate with crayfish, prawns and salad and when I turned away from the buffet, Monique waved to me. She'd saved me the seat with her on one of the tables for two, three rows back from the front of the stage. A bottle of chilled Coldstream Hills Chardonnay was waiting in a silver bucket.
"Looks like my favourite wine is also your favourite wine," I smiled.
"It's not my favourite wine, but only because I can't afford it!" Monique laughed. "Ty said you liked it and asked me to order a bottle for you."
So not only did Tyson Hill have the face of a footy-playing angel and an ass that made men like me weep, he was thoughtful as well.
We chatted for a while and once or twice, Monique introduced me to rock journalists returning to their seats after filling their plates.
Before long, the lights dimmed a little and a well preserved middle aged guy stepped up to the microphone. He introduced himself as an A&R manager from Ty's record company and prattled off a pre-prepared speech about Ty's success and his gratitude to the media for getting behind him. Just when I was getting ready to throw a prawn at him, he introduced the star of the night.
To huge applause, Ty wandered on from the side of the marquee and sat on his stool in front of the mike. He looked ... well, gorgeous. Faded jeans, a bright, multi-coloured striped denim shirt and a cream calico vest. No beanie this time, just curly locks that framed that face I wanted to eat.
Ty said a few words of thanks to everyone for making the trip to Bedarra and thanked the music critics for the five-star ratings they'd given his album. He seemed slightly nervous as he spoke, and his eyes seemed to be scanning the room. He looked my way and suddenly his body seemed to relax. He smiled and introduced his first song.
A beaming Monique leaned over to me and whispered, "it's so sweet the way he relaxes when he knows where I am."
I nodded and smiled, but didn't have the heart to mention that while his smile was directed at our table, his eyes were definitely on me.
He strummed the opening chords of "Love On The Rocks:" and I suddenly found myself mesmerised.
"Love on the rocks It's over, it's gone The memory lingers But the show must go on"
I was transfixed throughout the performance which, while low-key in comparison to the intensity of his usual live shows, was painfully intimate. He worked his way through the main songs on his debut album and then introduced two new songs that would be on his follow-up.
I tried to concentrate on his lyrics, but I found myself focusing instead on him. The beautiful man with the world's most beautiful lips. And ass. And legs. And heart. It was lucky that starch white tablecloths were draped over our laps, lest Monique be scared by the log that was suddenly stretching my Levis.
All too soon, the 10-song performance was over and the usually hard-to-please media guests were on their feet. Ty took his bows humbly, and disappeared. He re-emerged as we were tucking into dessert and after a brief stop at our table to flatter Monique and ask me for an honest opinion, he was whisked around the room by Vince to pay homage to the image makers.
I mingled for a while, making small talk with some of the guests, before leaving Ty to the serious task of `working the room'. I figured I'd hang around the villa and congratulate him in person if I was still awake when he got back.
Back in the villa, I opened the sliding doors leading to the balcony to let in the light breeze. I stripped to my boxers and lay on the bed, flicking through the myriad of television channels. I was just starting to nod off when Ty arrived back, full of verve and clearly on a high.
"Woo hoo, Mikey," he hooted. "That went well!"
"It was fantastic mate," I bounced back. "Really, really good. God, I'm glad I could be there."
"I don't think I could've done it if you weren't there Mike," he said. "Shit, I seriously have to piss."
He fast tracked to the bathroom, let go a torrent, and walked back into the bedroom sans jeans and shirts. And no little drips showing in the front of his jocks. How did he manage that?
Ty jumped on the bed and lay on his side resting his head on his elbow. For a while, we talked through the show and compared notes on which songs worked best. Out of the blue, Ty said, "Mate, we have to talk about the publishing deal. I talked to Vince and he agrees, you've gotta take a percentage."
"Ty, we've been through this," I replied. "It's a freebie. I was happy to help."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "But that's not right. You need to take like, 20%. I need to settle this."
"It's cool, Ty," I said. "It was a couple of emails. It's not worth 50 grand."
"Well it doesn't have to be money. Can I pay for something? Something you really want?"
I sighed inwardly. Something I really want? OK Ty ...
"OK mate," I said. "I'd really like you to kiss me again."
There was nothing for a couple of seconds and then Ty grinned, "Mate, I'm serious."
"I know," I said. "Seriously, I'd like you to kiss me again like you did last night."
Time stood still for a moment or two and then Ty leaned forward, reached out and drew my face to his and pressed his lips against mine. It was very bit as mind-blowing as it was the previous night, only this time his lips seemed even fuller, more moist.
It was a kiss so tender, and I felt like it connected our souls. My lips were slightly parted, and I wanted to enjoy more of his sweet, full lips before I explored the wonders of his tongue. Ty's kiss awakened emotions in me I never knew I had. And this time, instead of being the passive recipient of a kiss, I became the aggressor.
I cradled the back of his head in my hand and leaned in for the second kiss, which came from somewhere deep inside. I felt an ache in my heart, and at the juncture of my legs, an even greater throb.
We kissed as though nothing else existed in the world. I felt Ty's hand on my head and his fingers running lightly through my hair. No words were spoken yet both our lives changed with that kiss. I felt Ty's hand on my shoulder, and then it slid slowly down my back, rubbing in little circles. It kept going and I felt it glide over the satin of my boxer shorts, and gently squeeze my ass cheeks in turn.
The kiss continued as Ty's hand moved sensuously from the back of my boxers, and his long fingers wrapped around my pulsating cock.
He broke the kiss and exclaimed, "Holy fuck!"
My chuckle was a hoarse one. "A little more Latin for you, mate," I panted. "That's `homo erectus'!"
Ty smiled, took my hand and moved it down over his chest and stomach, holding it as it wrapped around his cotton-covered thick tube of man meat. "I've got a `pro bono' of my own!"
I was aware that my cock was leaking precum like a tap and for a moment I felt in danger of spontaneously ejaculating, something that hadn't happened since I was a young, horny teenager. Yet that's how he made me feel. I couldn't remember a time when I'd been so completely turned on by another man. I wanted him and he was making it clear he wanted me, too.
In one fluid motion I pulled his jocks down as he lifted his body lightly and pushed them the rest of the way, kicking them across the room. Before he was even resettled, he yanked my boxers down and in the mad scramble I flicked them on to the floor.
Suddenly, we became a frenzy of mashed lips and entwined limbs. Naked, we rolled together until I was on top of him, raised on my elbows to allow myself to drink in his beauty. Fuck, this man is truly gorgeous. His eyes were glazed as he intermittently peppered my lips with little kisses and ran his hands down my back and over my ass.
My hand slipped behind him and after squeezing each delectable cheek, my fingers slipped between them and found his opening. It was moist, not from lube but from sweat and arousal. I shifted down the oversized bed so that my head was between his legs and Ty instantly raised his ass off the mattress and pulled his knees back, offering himself to me.
My tongue snaked out of my mouth and the tip flicked his quivering entrance, eliciting a throaty groan from Ty. I leaned in closer and lapped my tongue the entire length of his ass crack, intoxicated by the musky aroma that reminded me of Moroccan food ... tangy yet sweet. As Ty continued to pant, I kept lapping his puckered hole, dipping my tongue inside him every now and again. I moved my tongue and gently ran it across the bottom of his sagging ball bag as I gently inserted a finger into his ass. The tip pushed through his sphincter with barely a flinch from him, and for a moment I paused. As he relaxed I pushed further in, and then added a second finger, propelling them as far as they could go. When I found his prostate, his moan was primal.
His back was now arched, his urgent need wantonly obvious. I so wanted to suck his magnificent cock, to take him into my throat, to masturbate him with my mouth and to drink his breeding DNA. But I too felt an urgent need to be inside him, to let him feel my heartbeat through my dick.
"God, Mike," he croaked. "Please ..."
I pulled myself back up and lay once again between his spread legs. I took myself in hand and realized there was no need for pharmaceutical assistance; the head of my cock was covered in enough precum to lubricate an army. A voice somewhere in the back of my head was telling me I should be rolling on a rubber, but I couldn't think where they were and nothing short of an earthquake was going to interrupt this moment.
Ty lifted his legs over my shoulders and I stretched out over him, one hand either side of his body, as he reached down and took my cock in his hand and guided me to the promised land. He positioned my cockhead over his sodden hole and with his other hand, pulled my face to his to join us in yet another mind-altering kiss.
All it took was one slight thrust from me and my cockhead slipped inside him. I held myself completely still, firstly to enjoy the insanity of this never-dreamt-of moment and secondly, to prevent myself from spewing my load then and there. The world seemed to stop as Ty and I gazed into each other's eyes, and even deeper.
Very slowly, our eyes still locked, I inched forward, sinking further into him. Ty raised his glorious butt even higher to accommodate my length and I gently thrust forward again; his eyes closed and another groan escaped his lips. There was no pain, I was sure, only pleasure, and I hoped what he was feeling was even a fraction of what I was experiencing.
I leaned down and kissed Ty's eyelids as I sank into him fully, finally bottoming out. I was all the way inside him and I registered just down hot and silky his ass felt. Again, we stayed very still and I realized that the pulses from my rigid cock were matched by the gentle flexing of his anal muscles; it felt like his ass was massaging my throbbing dick.
Ty's muscles were gently squeezing the entire length of my cock, as he reached his arms around my back and pulled my tightly against his panting, naked body. His eyes once again closed, he covered my face in little kisses until his lips found mine and this time, out tongues began a dance.
I was lost in our oral exploration, vaguely aware of how my rampant cock was flexing deep in Ty's bowel. Slowly at first, he lifted his ass driving me deeper into him and at the same time, causing his rock hard prick to rub against my stomach. It was time for us to make love.
Steadily, I began to move in and out of him, circling my hips each time I was fully back inside him. With each gentle thrust inwards, I felt the rim of my cockhead brush his prostate, and each time it did I heard a soft moan. I was aware that for the first time in my 32 years that I'd ever felt so completely in tune with another man's body. Sure, I'd had some hot fucks in my time, but this time I felt like my cock truly belonged inside this devastatingly gorgeous man, rather than being a temporary visitor.
Fleetingly I wondered if I'd found my soul mate? I'd always scoffed at the notion before, dismissing it as soppy nonsense, but here and now I felt connected in a manner far beyond the hot and sweaty man-on- man sex I'd enjoyed to this point in my life.
There was something about the way my cock fitted Ty's gripping ass that told me this was something special, and I was silently grateful that it had been so long since I'd had sex. Despite the fact I desperately wanted this act to go on and on, I was keenly aware that my ball sack was starting to tighten and the tell- tale signs were there.
As if he sensed it, Ty reached his hand down and pushed firmly on my bare ass, holding me deep inside of him by slowing my movement. Blissfully, the inevitability passed and when I was back in control we slowly started to move in unison. Ty was rubbing his hands up and down my back and over my ass, tiny noises escaping regularly from his throat.
Then suddenly, he raised his ass once again and spread his legs even wider, as though he was doing the splits in mid air. The feeling for me was indescribable. I was totally inside of him, rampant and ready, and I was unable to control my urge to step up proceedings. I was consumed by a tremendous need to make him mine, to completely and totally own his ass.
The muscles of Ty's inner ass gripped my cock like a fist, and I was aware that I was moaning and panting as lustfully as he was. I could feel the slow build in my prostate as it prepared its milky gift for giving. I almost felt as though I was outside my body when the quake hit. I heard myself groaning Ty's name repeatedly and then his roar as he unloaded a volley of scalding semen between our bodies. I felt the jets as they splattered our necks and chests, and the involuntary clutching of his anus around my shaft sent a message to my own `boys' that it was time to surrender. With one final forceful thrust, I gritted my teeth and bellowed, as my balls emptied their potent cargo deep into his guts. The world seemed to go into slo- mo and my orgasm felt like it lasted a millennium where in reality, it was only a few seconds.
I collapsed in Ty's arms and we both lay for several minutes panting in sensory overload. I felt so completely at home inside him, I didn't want to withdraw, and even when I tried he held on to my ass to keep me in place. Eventually I softened to the point where my own seed forced me to slip out. I instinctively reached my hand under Ty and caught the flood of semen that was soaking into the sheets.
We kissed many times and finally, we disengaged and lay side by side, Ty's hand stroking the side of my face. We looked at each other for a long time before Ty cuddled in under the arm and lay his head on my chest. For an hour or more, we talked and kissed. About everything.
We talked about our childhoods and our teen years, and about our mutual sexual uncertainty at that age. We'd both fucked girls and both found it pleasurable, but somehow incomplete. We compared our clumsy first attempts at sex with another man, and what we thought our futures might hold.
We talked about our families, friends and our fears, our plans and our goals. And then we kissed some more, sharing intimate explorations of each other's mouths. Then we just lay together, silent, as the moon shone through the open shutters and distant waves lapped on the shore. I don't know how long we lay there before I realized Ty was asleep, still with his curly locks spread over my chest, me still with my arm around him and my hand making the gentlest movements up and down his ass cheeks. Very slowly, I extricated myself from him and he didn't wake.
I lay next to him, studying him as he slept, his mouth slightly open, his breathing steady. In repose, his face was even softer and gentler than it was when he was awake. I wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him until our mouths blistered. I wanted to swallow his cock and suck the oil from the wells below it. I wanted to lower him on to my cock and then bounce around the room as though we were on a pogo stick. Fuck, if I could eat him, I would. But for now, he needed to sleep.
I was happy enough to gaze at him in slumber and I did, until sleep eventually called for me as well.
I woke almost the same way I had fallen asleep. On my side, looking directly at Ty, who was now on his back with his face on its side on the pillow. Rays of sunrise had replaced the moon through the shutters, and he was as breathtaking as he was the night before.
The climate had allowed us to sleep naked, without sheets or blankets, and resting across his thigh was his thick, meaty cock, a good 13cm even in its relaxed state. How I longed to feel it in my mouth. I was tempted to wake him with a blowjob, but it was early. I knew he'd had a big night and needed sleep. Such restraint!
We'd be checking out of the resort mid-morning and returning to Coolangatta for Ty's meeting with the guy who would be overseeing the renovation of his apartment. I'd have to wait for my first taste of `Ty' sauce.
Quietly I got up, grabbed my shorts and running shoes and pulled the bedroom shutter doors closed. I dressed in the lounge and then hit the beach, for a long and strenuous run. As my feet pounded the sand, my mind was filled with thoughts and images of Ty. How on earth had this happened to me? And why? Where to from now? I had no answers, but I loved the fact that I was able to ask myself the questions.
On my return run, I slowed to a walk as I approached the villa. Slipping inside, I noticed the bed was empty. The radio was on and over the sound of cascading water I could hear Ty's unmistakable voice, powerful and perfectly pitched, singing along with U2's "Pride (In The Name Of Love)".
I smiled; opportunity had knocked. I kicked off my shoes, dropped my shorts and walked naked into the bathroom. Ty had his back to me under the double shower, and his singing meant he hadn't heard my footsteps.
I stood for a moment and enjoyed the vista of jets of water running down his back and into the crack of his all-too-perfect ass. And then I stepped into the shower and moved against him, wrapping my arms around his chest. "Shit," he exclaimed and he jumped momentarily, but I felt him relax as soon as my lips kissed his neck. He leaned back into me, pushing his cheeks against my swelling cock as I showered kisses around the back of his neck.
I moved my right hand down over his nipples, tweaking them slightly as I did, and then moved further down until my fingers met his pubes. I ran my hand in circles through the short, wiry curls until the back of my hand was slapped by his upwardly mobile erection. I moved my hand even further down and gently encircled his dangling balls, drawing an ecstatic groan. Now was my chance.
I turned him around to face me, our erections poking each other in the thigh. I looked into his eyes, said "hey!", took his face in my hands and kissed him. Hard.
I broke away, looked him straight in the eye, licked his lips and sank to my knees. My face was level with his pulsating penis, twitching proudly in front of me.
God, he was sexy. The tropical climate was perfect for keeping men's ball bags relaxed and loose, and dangling beneath that steely pole were Ty's generous eggs. I leaned down and tried to take them both in my mouth but it was impossible, so I settled on first sucking one, then the other, to audible appreciation from above.
As I tongued his baby-makers, his erection rested across my cheek and along with drips from the shower I felt his thick, warm precum on my face. I moved up and flicked my tongue across his glistening cockhead, and felt his whole body twitch. Running my tongue around the rim of the helmut, the tip was flicking the sensitive nerve endings that were gathered there.
Without warning I slammed my mouth down the entire length of his shaft, coming to rest in his curly bush. I felt his knees buckle and his hand grab on to the top of my head to steady himself. In a natural rhythm, I sucked him tightly, my mouth moving from the base to the tip where my tongue would snake across his piss slit. Then my wet mouth would bob back down to the base, my right hand manipulating his hairy hangers.
All too soon, Ty started making a noise that familiarity enabled me to identify as impending release. I felt him deep in mouth and let him gently fuck my face, his cockhead moving into my throat where practised swallowing meant I could milk him. He let out a panting wail as his back arched and his nuts erupted, filling my mouth with bloke yolk. After the fourth spurt I lost count, reveling in the joy of bringing him such pleasure. As his hard-on subsided I nursed him in my mouth until he became too sensitive and drew back, withdrawing his spent cock.
I stood back up and leaned into him, resting against the tiled shower wall. I pressed my lips to his and let him taste himself, I pinched his cheek and said "Morning, mate!" and backed out of the shower, grabbing a towel on my way back to the bedroom. A naked Ty joined me a minute or so later, towel in hand. Either side of the bed, we watched each other towel off, grinning stupidly at one another. There were probably a lot of words to say, but we both seemed to enjoy our silent communication. I feasted on his awesome body whenever I could drag my eyes away from the beauty of his face.
We dressed in silence, still watching one another, when Ty broke the spell with "wanna eat?". I nodded and followed him out of the villa, and we walked side by side to the breakfast marquee. It was still early and the only other signs of life were staff and a couple of roadies, who exchanged pleasantries and congratulated Ty on his showcase, before we were left on our own at a small table. We ate fresh fruit, eggs and bacon and toast, washed down with fruit juice and coffee.
As we walked back towards the villa we were intercepted by Monique, who reminded us that we'd need to be in the lobby in 40 minutes for the short trip to the jetty, the start of our three-leg journey back to Coolangatta. We were packed and ready to go in half an hour and we sat pleasantly chatting with a few of the crew, Ty occasionally removing himself to sign an autograph for a resort guest.
We were herded into a Tarago and driven a short way to the jetty, where a boat was waiting to take us to Cairns. Before long, we were being whisked from another jetty to Cairns airport for our flight to the Gold Coast. We were separated from the team flying economy and were ushered to our seats in business class, a section of the plane we realized we had to ourselves.
Once we were in the air, we whiled away the next two hours picking up on the talk we'd had the previous night. I tried to explain the mechanics of my job as an entertainment lawyer, though much of it was lost on Ty, and he in turn tried to explain the songwriting process to me. Once, when no cabin crew members were in sight, he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh while we talked, and a couple of times he was bolder, giving me quick lip kisses.
All too soon we began our descent to the Gold Coast and on arrival, we were whisked through the processes and collected by a driver from Grand Apartments, who took care of the our luggage. The familiar and friendly face of George appeared as the car pulled up in front of the foyer and he welcomed us back. "I hope you enjoyed your time away Mr Stewart, Mr Hill," he nodded. "It's good to have you back."
Ty thanked him and slipped a banknote into his hand, and I patted him on the shoulder as we strolled through the lobby and took the lift to the top floor. Ty had about 30 minutes before his meeting with his foreman, enough time we agreed to polish off a beer. Ty mentioned he was hungry; he'd been hanging out for some of the fresh seafood in the marquee after his performance, but by the time he'd schmoozed the room, there was nothing left. I opened a bag of potato crisps which were gone within five minutes, and when his beer was empty, Ty was ready to meet his contractor.
I declined his invitation to tag along, preferring to stay where I was. He gave me a quick hug and told me he'd be back around 1pm.
That would be lunch time! I picked up the phone and called George and asked him to come to the apartment. At the door, I handed him two $100 bills and asked him to arrange for a couple of platters of fresh crayfish, king prawns and crumbed calamari to be sent up by 12.45, with seafood sauce, lemons and all the trimmings, along with a good bottle of white wine.
I used the time to make the bed, throw in a load of washing, and set the balcony table for lunch for two. Spot on 12.45, George rang the bell and wheeled in a table laden with beautifully fresh Queensland seafood, a large bowl of Greek salad, crunchy fresh rolls and all the condiments, and a fine bottle of Australian white wine on ice. I refused to take to $22 change, telling George to keep it for his trouble.
He thanked me, and wheeled the trolley to the balcony where he set everything up so we were ready to sit down and enjoy.
When George left I opened the wine and poured myself a glass, and turned on the radio so that the hits of the day were an unobtrusive backdrop. When the doorbell rang, I poured a second wine and handed it to Ty as he walked through the door.
"Thanks mate!" he beamed. "This'll go down well! We should go grab something to eat too, there's a nice little ..." ... his voice trailed off as he looked out on the balcony.
"Crayfish and prawns?" he exclaimed. "Are you kidding me? Man, you're something else! Can we eat?"
We sat down and tucked in to an amazing meal, enjoying good food and wine as Ty relayed his discussion with the contractor overseeing the renovation of his apartment. While he discussed the job, it dawned on me that he wouldn't be able to stay there while the place was pulled apart, and I asked him about it.
"Yeah mate," he smiled. "I was just gonna go and stay at the Hyatt, where Vince is, but then I figured maybe it might be OK if I stayed here with you? I'm house trained and I tidy up after myself!"
I smiled back. "This is a very expensive apartment to rent," I said. "You'll have to think of some way to earn your keep. Any thoughts?"
Ty grinned. "Oh, I can think of a few good ways of paying the rent, don't you worry about that!"
We drank a toast, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh breeze, and lazily finishing our wine. We would make our way to bed before long, I knew for sure, but for now we were simply too full.
We sat and basked in sunshine for quite a while; I was just thinking of moving us to the comfort of my king size bed when the doorbell rang. We looked at each surprised and we both shrugged at the same time.
We weren't expecting visitors, and we certainly weren't expecting the drama that was about to unfold ...
Please feel free to email me your comments. marcusis32@live.com.au