This story is not intended to be read by minors. If you are, please do not read, and close this window.
This story is the property of the author. It cannot be duplicated in any way without the author's permission. Get real people this is fiction, made up, not trashy tabloid article material. This is in no way based on factual knowledge of the author. I wish though. If you happen to resemble the star(s), write me, LOL. Maybe you'll be the cast in my next story...
Redneck - Tim, Dennis and the Tattoo...
NOTE to readers this story's main characters resemble two of country's hottest performers today. I do not by writing this story, claim to know these stars (I WISH) nor have any personal knowledge (AGAIN I WISH) of their personal inclinations. This and all my stories are just a fantasy. Write me guys, KPG111061@aol.com, stories are under gay/celebrities; some comic book fantasies about the Human Torch, Toby Keith and TK & Kenny Chesney; under encounters and beginnings some of my "redneck" stories.
First, let me tell you that because you grow up in a dirt patch of a town, where even the DOT won't put an interstate exit ramp, contrary to that redneck comedian, Jeff Foxworthy, does not make you a redneck. A redneck does not always have a family tree without branches; a redneck does not always have "summer" teeth (some are here, some are there, some are missing) and a redneck does not always go unshaven with at least 2 tattoos on his bicep sporting some pregnant, two boy named (Bobby Joe or Tommy Sue) girlfriend.
I grew up in a little dirt patch of a town. The DOT even after being bribed wouldn't put in an interstate ramp for a little town; said it wasn't cost effective. Now as far as my family tree, well even I have some doubts about the branches forking. I have never had a girlfriend, pregnant or not and boy named or girl named. My teeth go along with the rest of me, pearly white and semi-even; couldn't afford braces growing up so they are simply normal, but no cavities (look Ma). Now, I'm your typical small town boy, grown up and gone off to college. I've been told that I look like that singer Tim McGraw, black hair, lean/firm body and yes; I like to wear jeans, boots, t-shirts, etc. Unless at work, then either a suit or business casual as they call it. I just recently grew a goatee/mustache which makes the resemblance even stronger to the singer guy.
I'm in Tampa, Florida on business. By education and trade, I'm a Pharmacy Rep. Yeah, believe it or not, a professional redneck. I milked a stay over weekend from my boss, thanks to my performance last quarter. Tampa is one of my cities. Suburbs to visit, city offers a decent nightlife and some of the hottest, laid back guys in the south. The men here party with grace and subtlety. There are lots to choose from here; stripper clubs, leather/levi, warehouse dance clubs, etc. On my first weekend night, I decided to go to Ybor (pronounced e bore) City, every building is a club or restaurant. I love this area, very old, historical and party central on the weekend.
I'm walking around deciding where to go for a drink when I see this tattoo parlor across from Centro Ybor (restaurants, comedy club, bar area). I've always wanted a tattoo but the chicken in me has always stopped me. I walk over to it and stand there looking in the window, when I notice the man behind the counter. Damn he's fine; tall, lean, stretch shirt showing a great chest and even from the sidewalk I can see the nicest ass when he turns around to point out some designs to one of the customers. I can't help but think that he looks very familiar. I wonder if maybe we met on one of my other trips here, maybe a bar buddy or one of my rare tricks. I'm so lost in my daydreaming, that I didn't even notice the guy was looking at me, watching me watching him. He very subtlely winks at me. I blush and nod. Then decide to stiffen my resolve (not my dick, watching him took care of that) by going for a drink. I notice back over at the Centro area, a kind of Tex-mex bar upstairs. I decide that'll do and if I get a good enough table I can watch the store front from there.
I order my favorite Jack & Diet coke, not one of those frozen foo-foo drinks in those machines that this place specializes in and then luck up with a group leaving me a table on the front street side. I'm sitting there nursing my second drink, when I notice, my new attention-getter leaving the shop. He's walking down the side walk away when I notice him stop and looking around. He happens to glance up and spots me in the crowd; smiling, he nods to me. I raise my glass a little and smiling nod back. He starts to walk off again; damn it. Then without breaking stride he cuts across the street. I wasn't sure where he's headed until I hear a clearing of the throat. I look up and there he stands. He asks me do you mind some company? I tell him, my pleasure, as he sits. Close up, damn better looking than I thought. He orders a drink from our waiter, this cute little stud that had been cruising me earlier. My new friend sticks out his hand and says name's Brian. Padgett, I tell him. The little stud waiter delivers Brian's drink and me a refill and winks. Brian notices and says looks like you have an admirer there, laughing. He says, maybe he likes the fact you resemble that singer, you know, Tim whatshisname. Laughing, I tell him, yeah I hear that sometimes, Tim McGraw. What about you Brian? You look very familiar to me too. Have we met before when I've been in town? Brian laughs and says no, I don't think so. Most folks tell me that I look like Daryl Worley, the singer of "Have you Forgotten." That's it, I yell. You do. Here I was worried that I had forgotten meeting you or something. Then we both laugh realizing how I had said it. I asked about his job, he asked about mine. We talked about our similar backgrounds, about his love/like living in Tampa; about my love/like of visiting. During all of this talk, we had not noticed that stud muffin waiter, had been bringing refills. When I excused myself to go to the bathroom and stood up was when it hit me. Carefully as possible in skin tight jeans and boots, walked to the bathroom and as I passed the wait station, gently leaned into our waiter and whispered, thanks for the great service and by the way you have an amazingly hot ass stud. He blushed, looking around and said thanks.
When I get back to the table, there is another round of drinks. Brian says I don't know what you whispered to little man there, but he left this round on the house and said to tell you ditto. What did you say to him? I simply thanked him for the great service he's been doing. Plus my friend, if you don't mind, I told him that he has an amazingly hot ass. Laughing, Brian, says no wonder he's like a little puppy now, but I do agree. God, I bet that ass makes grown men cry, moan and beg. Padgett, I have to tell you that you are no slouch in the looks department, front or back side. Same to you Brian. Why do you think that I was window shopping a tattoo parlor? Padgett, I was hoping you were going to come in have one of my designs done to a bicep or a shoulder maybe. Yeah right, I tell him, when I'm much drunker maybe. So after this last round, we decide to walk around Ybor and see some of the clubs. I tell our stud waiter, that we'll see him later and without anyone seeing it, I grope one ass cheek and Brian gropes the other. The waiter actually moans and winks at us saying later.
After an hour or so of walking in and out of several small clubs, I love jazz, we settle into the local jazz bar next door to Brian's tattoo shop. As we are sitting there nursing some drinks, listening to the music, I notice that one of Brian's sleeves has slid up and that I can see part of a tattoo on his bicep. I ask what it is. He slides his sleeve up to show me the word redneck. Now the text is gorgeous. It looks like calligraphy and isn't very large. I tell him that I like it. Perfect. He asks me if this is the one that I would have done. I tell him yes. Without pausing, we both stand up and go next door. There's some guy closing up and Brian says Joe go ahead and go home. I'll finish after this last customer. Joe, looks at me then Brian and says you're the boss, winks and says good night guys; locking the door behind him. We walk to the back and Brian shows me around, explaining in detail about the sterilization techniques, their training, etc. He then explains that he designed his own tattoo but that Joe copied it for him. Joe is fantastic at copying art work and text, Brian says. I design and he puts it to life. Brian pulls out a bottle of Jack and says here pour yourself a shot or two while I get ready. Take off your shirt before I start so that I can get to your bicep easier without ripping the sleeve. I skin off the stretch shirt and hear Brian say, shit, you're hot. Thanks. So for the next hour or two, Brian works slowly and gently. Instead of the pain I hear normally happening; I feel more like a scratching on my arm. Soon, I hear him say, done. I stand up and look in the mirror and see a copy of Brian's "redneck" tattoo. It's a little red and inflamed, but Brian says when it goes down, it'll look just like his.
He comes over to the mirror where I'm standing and says let me bandage that for you. Brian puts a light, cool cream and a gauze bandage on it and says there, another masterpiece. I don't mean the tattoo necessarily, laughing. He's standing a little behind and beside me so that we can see each other in the mirror together. It's amazing I tell him that together, we make each other look more like the two singers we already resemble. Brian says to me, I know, fucking hot isn't it. Here I am with Tim McGraw and here you are with Daryl Worley.
I turn around into his arms and tell him, oh yeah, as we both kiss each other. There's nothing hotter than kissing a good looking man, unless it's a good looking man shirtless or nude even. Brian's hands are all over my ass, and all I can think of his stripping him down and licking him from head to toe. Brian says one moment, flips off the lights, checks the lock and says follow me. As he opens a door next to the mirror, I see that there is a stairwell there. He says hope you don't mind, I live above the shop. As we get upstairs, Brian pushes down on his couch and takes off my boots and then my jeans. I stand up and without pausing, pull off his shirt, then push him down and off come the boots and jeans. Now you have two horny, hot men in nothing but skin tight, white briefs. The floor has what I thought was a rug, but is more like a comforter on it. We both lower ourselves down on to it and continue exploring each other's bodies.
Brian on Padgett He's fucking hot; black hair, muscled legs, bubble butt, well hung; Jesus, what a kisser. He has the sexiest set of DSLs (dick sucking lips).
Padgett on Brian He's beautiful and sexy. Lean, hot ass, hung like a horse and what a kisser. I can't believe how lucky it was we found each other.
As I come up for air, I tell Brian, that if sucks my nuts like that much more, I will probably cum soon. Good, he says, we have all night and all weekend. So why not go ahead. Next thing I know, Brian is between my thighs, licking my nuts, sucking my dick and I try to tell him that I'm cumming. He pulls off and says to me sorry without a rubber, we'll have to finish this way and starts to jack me. I love jacking, either myself or having someone else do it is so hot. Now I'm moaning. I can hear it in my head. With the loudest groan I've made, my nuts explode everywhere, it's like rain. Brian says to me, do you know how hot you look right now? The whole time jacking he's jacking himself. His turn, the groaning starts and next thing I know, another shower, white, thick and hot all over me.
We lay there on the floor for a while cum covered, exhausted, relaxed, comfortable and Brian says lets take a shower and go to bed. While in the shower, with the hottest stud I've ever been with, I notice that one large window allows the outside world to see in. Across the street is our stud waiter, watching and clapping. Brian notices too and laughs. He says that whenever he's in the shower, that area of the bar tends to become very crowded. I laugh and tell him that I can see why. He says also that if you are in the front bar area, you can see in to the living room area we were just in and that little waiter man must have noticed. Stud waiter stands and heads back to work. As he turns around, Brian and I both look at each other smiling and says, are you thinking what I'm thinking? Lets call across the street and let little stud know he's invited after work. I agree as Brian picks up his phone, calls and I watch the little stud answer then holds up 3 fingers. What does that mean, I ask. Brian says that's what time he gets off work and will be over for an after work shower.
Now, I have my tattoo that I always wanted and I have gotten a transfer with my company to Tampa. I live in Ybor City for now, but we are looking for a house in the area of Brandon. There are a lot of male couples living in the burbs. We also are looking for a house with a pool. We need a work area for our new pool boy/bartender/waiter. Now that's another story. By the way did I tell you, his name is Todd? He looks a lot like Kenny Chesney.