MY SUMMER OF SEX WITH COWBOY
Chapter 50
By Donny Mumford
During the drive to the apartment, Bruce continues his great mood excitedly talking about how good the chicken dinner was. It's funny, the simplest things he'll get excited about. I'm in a great mood too, but still a bit shell-shocked. I mean, last night Bruce told me he's in love with me. I had doubts he'd ever say that and never mind him telling me that this soon in our relationship. I'm sure he's been thinking and rethinking the pros and cons of his feelings in this regard for weeks. No way was it an abrupt or unexpected revelation for him, thereby freeing his mind up to get excited about chicken piccata... haha.
Seriously though, this is even more of an amazing development when considering not too long ago Bruce made fun of me, saying I sacrificed leverage when I told him I loved him. He inferred he wouldn't ever do that, and now he's done it too. Obviously, his earlier appraisal was made when he was still thinking in his surviving-on-the-street mentality. He's abandoned that way of thinking and, instead, he's embracing the opportunities in his new life, a new life he refers to as 'the real world.' Well, he's jumped into the real world with both feet by sharing his feelings of love.
There's a chance he may be confusing gratitude for love. Bruce has been open about how grateful he is for the help I've given him, although initially, he was cautious about committing to the 'real world', but we both persevered and here we are in love and horny for one another--my impossible dream.
Love is one of the most studied and written about of all human emotions but continues to be one of the least understood. For example, is love a biological or cultural phenomenon? Heh heh, how the hell would I know that? What I do know is I want to be with Bruce and desire physical contact with him. I also care about his happiness, and there's passion involved, plus, lately, periods of euphoria as well. So, add that all up, and if that ain't love, I can't imagine what the fuck it is.
While that's how I feel, I don't know exactly how or why those emotions developed in my brain. In Bruce's case, if gratitude is the major reason he feels he's in love with me, at least he's got something concrete to base it on. And, I suppose being grateful to someone is a reason to love them, although that love is different from being in love.
And, I don't know why I'm nitpicking this to death. Perhaps it's because I want to be prepared for a time Bruce realizes it's gratitude and not love he's feeling. Yeah, but there's also Bruce's recent horniness for me. Hell, not too long ago, he was having sex with me as an obligation; then, he developed a desire for sex with me. Sex once a day fulfilled that desire for a while, but now he claims he's horny for our sex and wants to have it more frequently. Obviously, very excellent development. Perhaps his horniness for me could actually mean it is love after all.
Yes, Bruce's horniness is a huge development in our relationship, but I still don't want to get all geared up about it only to have a big letdown later. I don't think that's going to happen, but, Interrupting my musings, Bruce asks, "Why so quiet, Zach?" Looking over at him, I mumble, "Um, oh, I like hearing you talk. You've got a very youthful-sounding voice" Being a tad bossy, he mumbles, "Thanks, but keep your eyes on the road." Looking back at the road, I mutter, "Yeah, yeah, I know," and he goes, "So, you like hearing me talk, huh? What was I talking about just before I asked why you've been so quiet?"
Hmm, it was something about the dinner we just finished. I was thinking about love and not listening, but did I hear the word cheese? I shrug, "Cheese?" He goes, "Oh, you were half-listening. Yeah, those outrageously delicious cannolis. Ya know, I never thought of cheese being sweet and never as a dessert."
I mutter, "Yeah, that is a little bit different, and then there are folks who think a cheese plate is an appropriate dessert. Different types of cheeses, French people maybe. Anyway, tonight was only the second or third time I've ever eaten a cannoli." He mutters, "It's genius making sweet cheese into a dessert, ya know?" Uh-huh, as I said, Bruce gets excited about the craziest things, whereas I take most things for granted.
I go, "You're a lot of fun to be with, getting excited about cheese. Holy shit." He goes, "I'm fun? You're the most fun person I've ever known." I go, "Oh, sure. No, it's just that, um, I was thinking that liking someone, having fun with someone, is an important part of falling in love with them."
He chuckles, then asks, "Are you drunk? Having fun with someone equals love?" I'm like, "Yeah, it's an incredibly insightful concept... having fun and wanting to be with someone is an important factor for falling in love." He mutters, "Well, excuse me for saying this, but that seems, um, obvious rather than incredibly insightful." Snickering, I go, "Well, yeah, when you put it that way."
Okay, I guess it is obvious, although I'll bet there are people in love who get on one another's nerves too, so don't always have a fun time being together.
When we're inside the apartment, I smirk, asking, "Are you going to take your unnecessary extra shower tonight?" He laughs, "Ya know what? I think I'm over that. Showering at night and then again in the morning is stupid of me... haha." Hmm, I wonder if psychologically Bruce was subconsciously showering off his life as a prostitute? Oh man, that's deep. I need to do less deep thinking as well as less over-analyzing everything. Bruce says he's in love with me... go with that, Zach!
He says, "C'mon, we'll get undressed, use the bathroom, and get to bed. It's getting late." Getting late? It's five of nine! Well, it's good to see he still has that touch of bossiness... heh heh. As we get undressed, I'm thinking we didn't have much to drink. The shot and beer with Cowboy and Lee, then the two smallish Manhattans and a glass of wine that Bruce didn't even finish. And, that relatively small alcohol intake was over a three-hour period. So, no, I can't blame booze for my meanderings about fun and love and whatever. As usual, I overcomplicate things.
We get in bed, and Bruce murmurs, "Get over here, boyfriend." I slide over, and we hug, then Bruce says, "You know, on second thought, you may be right about having fun. That's another new concept to me... frivolous fun, and the dinner tonight was fun." I go, "Definitely. That's the kind of thing I was talking about." He nods, then goes, "Okay, here's a fun thing to say that I've never said before. Um, I've never told you directly how sexy hot and handsome I think you are." I go, "Oh, well, thanks. Gee, I had nothing to do with the handsome part, though." He murmurs, "No, I guess not, but I enjoy looking at you just the same... my handsome boyfriend and, um, lover." I expected him to laugh at that, but instead, he kisses me, and then we hug, squeezing.
Bruce murmurs, "Your body is hot, Zach," and he squeezes his arms around me again, then says, "Um, I guess I should talk about this too. Last night, um, well, I know it seemed strange to you that out of the blue I told you I'm in love with you, but I didn't know how else to do it except come right out with it. I'd been thinking about it for some time and, um, as scary as it was for me, all of a sudden I couldn't wait to tell you, and so I blurted it out." I go, "Bruce, that was the biggest...," but he put his fingers on my lips and say, "And, what's even more memorable for me is, well, I realized I've never before in my life had anything that I could hardly wait to tell somebody."
He has tears in his eyes now as I stare dumbfounded at him and unable to think of what to say. He adds, "Um, that's not something I expect you to understand, Zach, but it meant the world to me to have something wonderful to tell you, and, as I said, I could hardly wait to do it." Keeping his arms around me, he rubs tears off his face on his pillow, then forces a chuckle and says, "Um, yeah, but I'm embarrassed now so there isn't any need for you to ever mention this again, and I mean ever. It's true, though, and I wanted you to know."
I murmur, "Um, thank you for telling me," and he says, "Oh, Christ, see how vulnerable I am now? Telling you I loved you last night and now confessing this embarrassing shit. Jeez, it is beyond..." Now it's my turn to put my finger on his lips and say, "It's what people in love do, Bruce. They share their thoughts, ones they wouldn't consider sharing with anyone else, not in a million years." He nods, "Yeah, I guess, but still, never mention it again, okay?" I chuckle, "Okay, I won't. You can trust me."
We kiss, and he says, "I don't know why I told you all that. I didn't expect to... it just came out." I go, "What on earth are you talking about?" He goes, "There you go! That's perfect..." Then we make out, but not as if we're teenagers in heat. We make out like lovers stretching everything out, doing it slowly with passion. I have tingling vibes all over me because now I believe he actually does love me. It might have started as Bruce being grateful, but it's moved past that 'cause you can't fake desire, and I sense a desire in him for me.
It's a long make-out, rubbing our hands on each other, our hard sex organs dancing together. We hug our naked bodies tightly, squirming to touch one another from head to toe as quiet moans of arousal slip from our throats. It goes on for quite a while before Bruce murmurs, "Omigod, Zach, pass me the lube before I have an accident." I pass it to him, and he takes his time spreading the lube with me on my stomach happier than I've ever been in my life. Bruce slowly lubes my rectum, taking his time because we both need a little time for sexual heat to lower to manageable levels.
Then, we get on our sides, me facing away with Bruce's arm over my shoulders holding my back against his chest, and then his sex organ enters me. Yes, it hurts for a while, but in a good way. Our sex is like our earlier make-out in that it's done slowly. Our fucking is a delicious, expressive, and eloquent, almost a religious experience, our bodies mutually providing exquisite pleasure for one another. The side of Bruce's face against the side of mine, his minty moist breath coming out as quiet moans at the pleasure sensations flowing over both of us... indescribable sensations coming from each steady long dreamy thrust of his engorged sex organ steadily moving back and forth inside me.
The sexual pleasure builds inside me to levels I never dreamed of, and that's because, as Bruce murmured to me last night... love makes it better, doesn't it? Yes, to be loved is the most beautiful experience imaginable, one that becomes obsessive, something to cherish and nurture.
All that is true, but also true is the fact this ecstasy will inevitably result in sexual orgasm. As has been the case lately, Bruce and I feel that irresistible sensation building simultaneously... climaxing is eminent. Our quiet moans get desperate-sounding as Bruce increases the speed, the force, and urgency of his thrusting, our climaxes getting closer and closer, and then it's on me and I moan, "Ahhh, Bruce..." as my hips hump, my brick-hard boner throbbing with intense otherworldly pleasure, cum streaming out from its gaping piss slit sending shivering pleasure all over me. I'm shuddering with pleasure as Bruce humps against my buttocks, gasping and groaning while filling me up with his semen.
A dull splat was all I heard as my cum hit the sheet, and, no, we didn't remember the hand towel... again. Bruce goes, "Oh, God," and thrusts in my sloppy rectum a few times, then pulls out and flops over on his back, pulling me next to him. We quiver a little at the after-effects and then lie without moving, breathing deeply. After a final deep breath, he murmurs, "Wow, this is a world I never imagined existed, Zach. That was so fucking special."
Yes, very, very special. Cuddling for a bit, but then Bruce needs sleep so we get out of bed and quickly clean up in the bathroom, then I wipe my cum off the sheet. Smiling at one another, very pleased with ourselves, we sleep together as we always do. The next morning, Bruce and I, not being morning people, only nod, grin, and mumble, "Good morning," then do very little talking after that. He takes a shower while I dream of some day having morning sex with him, then fall sleep. Bruce, smelling like toothpaste, after shave, and bath gel, gets me up around five-thirty. I use the bathroom, then quickly get dressed while he makes us take out coffees, and off we go to Atlantic City.
It's not as if I've never gotten up at five-thirty in the morning before. I did that many times in the Navy Seals, but I didn't like it then, and I don't like it any better now. Bruce's job has been a vital part of his quick transformation from negative thinking to his current positive frame of mind, though, so that makes getting up early each morning worth it.
It's not until after our kiss goodbye and Bruce is on the boardwalk disappearing around the corner that I give a thought about what I'm going to do now. I didn't bring a swimsuit and towel for the beach, and I don't have the hotel room to change in even if I had that stuff with me.
Yeah, that's right, Dickie paddled and fucked me at his apartment yesterday, not the hotel room. It seems a long time ago, as if a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours, but it was just that one remark by Bruce... that super monumental remark about being in love with me, that's what changed pretty much everything... distorting time and whatnot.
Huh, so, yeah, what am I going to do today? Every day for the last few weeks, I've been hiring pussy boys, Dickie being the best and most recent, but should I do that now that Bruce and I might be on a two-a-day sex routine? Hmm, he never said anything about having sex this afternoon. He was horny yesterday, but that doesn't mean he'll be horny today.
No, I can't take a chance on changing my routine, things have been working out too perfectly of late to change anything. Dickie has been satisfying my horniness and I need to keep going with that to avoid being squirrely with horniness around Bruce when he gets off work this afternoon. Of course, I'm fine now but what about eight or nine hours from now? And, some day hopefully having morning sex with Bruce will be perfect. That's for the future, though, because as long as Bruce is getting up at five-thirty there isn't going to be morning sex. Yeah, I better keep Dickie on the payroll.
Yes, that's what I'll do, but I don't need to do it right now. I'll go back to the apartment for another hours' sleep, and look Dickie up later. Driving back home, I'm thinking about Dickie's paddling and how it's become necessary in order for me to get that submissive thing working. Paddling didn't use to be necessary as a dominant top could bring on a deep submissive sense in me. Lately, Dickie's experience recognized I wasn't experiencing the submissiveness during sex with him that he feels I'm paying for so he added the paddling. That extra humiliation has me experiencing the level of submissiveness I was previously sensing. He's a professional and, as he always says, he wants to make sure I'm getting my money's worth. With hired pros like Dickie, I need to feel submissive during our sub/dom sex in order to get off with the sexual heat I'm looking for.
Nothing of the sort is necessary when having sex with Bruce. He's dominant without making an issue of it and last night's sex was the best sex I've ever had. With Bruce, the submissive sense is implied, and, add to that the fact we're in love and, as I just said, it's the best sex I've ever had in my life. Well, obviously, the two situations couldn't be more different, but, thinking about it, I'm getting an itch for the recreational sub/dom sex with Dickie. I don't especially like him, but he is excellent at his craft if that's what I can call it.
Back at the apartment, to get my mind off everything, I change the sheets, put the used ones and dirty clothes in the washing machine, drop in a pod of Tide, and start the washing cycle. Then, after a five-minute shower, I get in bed, smile, and fall off to sleep for an hour and a half. Hmm, getting out of bed, I'm hungry now, so, wearing a swimsuit, T-shirt, and sandals, I grab the stuff I need... my sunglasses, cigarettes, wallet, and key fob, then I'm on my way to the car planning to have breakfast at the cafe where my favorite waiter works.
Even though it's Sunday and the weekend crowds are still obviously here, it's past time for breakfast rush hour by the time I get to the cafe. I get seated right away and watch Bruce carrying breakfast plates to a table. He sees me and gives me the kind of smile that seems to say... I'm glad to see you!
Um, yeah, that's the kind of smile he gave me. It was a much more special smile than the ones given to the customers at the table he's serving, although that was a pretty good smile too. I watch him get a pot of coffee, then come right over to me. With another smile, he says, "I'm glad you came in for breakfast this morning, Zach. You sure look rested." He pours coffee as I say, "Yeah, I went back to bed. Hey, I liked that smile you gave me when I walked in." He goes, "Uh-huh, I saved it for you. Whaddaya going to have for breakfast?" I'm like, "Well, I'd like to have you for breakfast," and he goes, "That won't work as long as I have this job, but I won't have it forever, so..."
I order pancakes and bacon with scrambled eggs on the side, adding, "Ask the genius chef not to burn the scrambled eggs this time." He laughs, and off he goes. Huh, how the hell does he run around like that for eight 'effing hours every day?"
When my breakfast is served, not being one to complain, I don't mention it isn't real maple syrup on the pancakes, and the genius chef did overcook the scrambled eggs. I keep those thoughts to myself. Then, after eating, I leave my waiter a ridiculously large tip, and on my way out, I say, "Awesome breakfast, Bruce," and I get that smile again. That's well worth lying for.
Okay, well-rested with a full stomach, I'm ready to get my ashes hauled, although I don't understand that idiom. It's not far to Dickie's apartment, so I walk there, and, even though I'm still not horny, I feel anticipation building because I like sub/dom sex, especially the way Dickie does it. It's great recreational sex whether I'm horny or not. And, yeah, I'm still dealing with this oversexed problem that was created, ironically, by Bruce during the three weeks he was training me to be a pussy boy.
Sweating slightly, I walk into the apartment building without needing to be buzzed in because the front door's lock is broken. Dickie's apartment is on the left, the first floor. Feeling the back pocket of my bathing suit to be sure I have my wallet, although I knew I did, I knock on the door hoping Gorgon, the roommate, is out. Rubbing perspiration off my forehead, I knock again, and this time Dickie opens the door and goes, "Jesus Christ, you're like gum on my shoe! Are you stalking me?" I go, "C'mon, Dickie, I'm your best client, don't break my balls."
He nods his head for me to come inside, and when I do, he goes, "I didn't want to talk business in the hall." I go, "You were expecting me, weren't you? We've had a morning date for seven days in a row." He holds up a finger, like, 'Wait a second' and goes to the kitchen table, picks up his cell phone, then goes, "There's no text from Richard, so no, I wasn't expecting you." I shrug, "Well, this morning, I thought we could bypass Richard for once... he won't find out." He goes, "Nope, I'm not cheating him out of his online fee. Call him and set it up!"
Jeez, that got a submissive buzz running through me; he's good at this dominant stuff... consistently the hardass. Not physically, but his demeanor is always hardass. With me, he's like that because he knows I'm what they call an 'S' type client, super submissive, so he stays in the dominant role from beginning to end assuming it's what I'm paying for.
I go, "Please, Dickie. I don't wanna go through that crap with Richard" A teapot begins whistling, and Dickie takes the pot off the stove and pours boiling water into a mug with a teabag in it, saying, "You'll do what you're told. Use my phone and call Richard." Sitting at the table, I pick up his phone, then try again, "Please, Dickie. I'll give you an extra-large tip."
He sits across from me and begins spooning in sugar, one, two, three, four teaspoons of sugar, then he looks up and says, "I've got a guy coming here, a client that Richard set me up with, who's due in fifteen minutes. The guy is in Atlantic City for the weekend, so he'll be leaving for Delaware probably later today. Here's what I'll do for you as a favor, and you better give me a huge tip for making this exception for you. If, and it's a big if, but if it's okay with this guy, I'll do you both at the same time."
Oh, balls to that! I make a face, and he says, "It's either that or call Richard and set up a date for later this afternoon." I'll be with Bruce later this afternoon, plus Dickie has already created a submissive twitching in my balls. He's such a dominant prick. Okay, what to do?
I go, "Can I smoke in here?" He mutters, No," and I go, "Um, what's this other guy look like?" He sips some tea, then says, "I don't know. He's an 'S' type, though, like you, so it'll be easy for me to handle you both simultaneously. Hey, I don't need this shit, but I thought it might be fun for both of you submissive twats." I go, "I don't know, Dickie. Do you think I should?" He says, "Yes, and I know you're going to, but until my client gets here, go over there and stand in that corner." He points at the corner, "Do it now!"
My dick moves in my swimsuit. Holy shit. Well, what the fuck? He's right; this could be fun... it's new. Hesitating, I squint at him, and he says, "Or don't stand in the corner, but then you'll need to call Richard and set up a date with me later. Either way, I don't really care."
He has that certain prick-quality about him that all the excellent dominant types possess. Slowly, I get up... fuck it; I go over and stand in the corner, feeling a shiver of submissiveness and that makes me grin because this has the potential of being extra hot. I'm leaning against the wall, not actually standing in the corner per se. I glance over at the back of five-foot-eight, skinny Dickie, watching him typing on his phone and not paying any attention to me. Damn, I kind of admire him. He's only nineteen, so how can he be so confident? I'd like to know his backstory. Then I think about him fucking me in that van in New York outside the pussy boy club weeks ago... it makes me grope my junk.
I know Dickie's confidence is partially an act. Hell, I saw him the other day be obsequious to a client who insisted that he, the client, be the dominant one. It's crazy that I'm still into this sub/don shit with a hired pussy boy. It's been a couple of months now that my sub/dom fetish got reactivated by Richard. Then, as I alluded to earlier, it was perfected and firmly established in my head by Bruce! And now Bruce and I barely do sub/dom sex at all. Lovers' sex beats the hell out of that, but, as I thought the other day, this sub/dom shit with Dickie is therapy. Hot, sexy therapy.
Dickie's roommate, Gordon, comes into the kitchen, mumbling, "You're such a fag, Dickie... drinking tea." I faced the corner when he came in and now he asks, "Hey, Dickie, who's that you've put in the corner?" Dickie says, "A client, obviously, which is what you need more of." I hear Frosted Flakes going into a bowl as Gordon mutters, "Fuck, you've got clients following you around. How does that happen, dude? My shift starts at six tonight and I've gotta somehow solicit clients like yours." Dickie mutters, "If you can."
I'm looking at the bad paint job in the corner as I hear the refrigerator open and then milk being poured on Gordon's Frosted Flakes as he's asking, "Didn't you tell me Richard set you up with an eleven o'clock client this morning? That's not him, is it?" Dickie says, "No, he came unexpectantly but I'm doing a double this morning, killing two twats with one dick." Gordon sounds serious when he says, "You're amazing! Ya know, you could be one of the main pussy boy men any time you wanted. Recruiting your own crew." Dickie goes, "No shit. I don't want to do the recruiting bullshit, though. And, anyway, I like street whoring."
Gordon begins eating the cereal making many disgusting wet mouths sounds as he does it. I'm assuming he's eating Frosted Flakes because that's what he was eating yesterday morning. I better keep facing the corner because Gordon can see me and he'll squeal to Dickie if I'm just leaning on the wall. This shit is getting me hot, so I press my nose in the corner.
In less than fifteen minutes, I hear a knock on the door. Dickie slurps some tea, turns in his chair, and says to me, "Um, your name is Zach, right?" What? He forgot my name? My voice sounds funny to me, like I'm timid, when I say, "Yes, Dickie," and he goes, "Answer the door, Zach, and bring the guy inside." Walking past the table, big-headed Gordon, with a mouthful of milk and Frosted Flakes, goes, "Hey, you're the guy. You didn't give me a tip yesterday after blowing me." I say, "It was too fast," and he nods, "Oh, yeah, I forgot." Moron!
My submissiveness floats away as I open the door and see a freckled-faced redhead about Dickie's size, who, without making eye contact, timidly mumbles, "Ah, um, I'm Clark Baker, um, is it okay that I'm five minutes early?" His pale red hair is pulled back into a longish ponytail that he nervously flicks up with his freckled right hand, blushing brightly. He has a goofy expression on his face with his mouth tightly closed and his eyes squinting so only slits of green are visible. I ask, "How old are you, Clark?" He goes into the back pocket of his jeans and fumbles out a wallet, saying, "I'll be twenty in October," as he holds out his driver's license.
Dickie pushes me out of the way, saying to Clark, "Get the fuck in here." Then to me, "I told you to let him in, not interrogate him." He grips the back of Clark's neck hard enough that Clark hunches his shoulders as Dickie guides him to the bedroom, telling me, "C'mon, dickhead, follow me." Clark can't move his head because of Dickie's hold on his neck, but Clark's eyes go from me to Dickie and back to me. He looks confused and jittery, and who can blame him.
Inside Dickie's bedroom, he closes the door and says, "You two sit on the edge of the bed." Clark and I do that, Clark right next to me, almost leaning on me. Dickie puts a hand on either side of Clark's skinny shoulders, then says, "I'm your dom for this date, Clark." Nodding his head at me, he adds, "He's another client of mine. What happened is, my schedule got screwed up this morning, which is why you're both here at the same time. As a favor to both of you, I'll service you both at a reduced fee, but only if you agree." Nodding at me again, he adds, "This submissive client has agreed to that... do you?"
Clark mumbles, "I'll do whatever you say I should." Dickie mutters, "Of course, you will." He straightens up and says, "As I said, I'm reducing my normal fees, fees you'll both pay. The paddling before and after is a one-time charge of forty dollars; sucking my cock is another forty dollars, and I'll fuck both of you for seventy-five dollars each. That one-fifty from both of you," and he holds out his hand. Clark gets his wallet out again, counts out seven twenties and a ten, then hands the bills to Dickie. I give Dickie three fifties, and he drops all the bills on the bureau, saying, "Both of you get undressed... quickly!"
We're still sitting on the edge of the bed as Clark quickly unties his sneakers and takes them off, timidly asking, "Can I stand?" Dickie rolls his eyes, jerking his hand up, and Clark stands right up and begins working at getting his belt buckle unhooked, then drops the jeans he's wearing and starts unbuttoning his short-sleeve shirt. I was naked before Clark got his sneakers off. Meanwhile, Dickie's getting the paddle from the bureau's bottom drawer.
I'm watching Clark, waiting for him to drop his underpants... see what he's got down there. Off come his underpants, white old-fashioned jockey underpants, and what he's got down there is a boring four-inch skinny dick, maybe a tiny bit shorter than Dickie's, but Clark's penis has a pointy head. The big bulbous head of Dickie's pecker is what creates all the hot sensations when he's thrusting it in my ass. Clark has a normal pubic patch of crinkly red hair, and his skinny body is a creamy pale color, devoid of hair except down there. He doesn't appear to have a muscle in his body, although, of course, he must have some. I don't see any, though. And, oh yeah, his pecker is already stiff.
Huh, Dickie's bossy dominant behavior has aroused and turned-on 'S' type Clark already. I'm used to Dickie, so I need the paddling to really get into a submissive frame of mind, although I did get a submissive twinge in the kitchen when Dickie put me in the corner. It felt good so I'm looking forward to the paddling that will set me up submissive-wise quite nicely. That's all well and good, but I'm worried Clark will detract from my normal submissive high. It's not his fault, but he'll probably be a deterrent for me experiencing the full submissive vibe that Dickie gets me into normally.
We're both naked as Dickie takes a few practice swings with the paddle, "Swoosh, swoosh," sound as it goes through the air. "You two bend over and hold onto the bed's bottom board." As we do that, Clark makes a gasping sound, his side rubbing against my leg and side. Dickie says, "Both you cunts need to push your asses out." Clark grunts as he exaggeratingly pushes his ass out and up. I do it without the grunt, my ass a foot higher than Clark's.
"Swoosh," "Whack!" Clark screamed, "OW! OH, OW!" Dickie says, sounding bored, "If you scream that loudly again, I'll add one more whack for each scream." I happen to know Dickie's not bored because he gets off on a little sadistic paddling. "Swoosh," "Whack," and my buttocks quiver and sting like fire, but I expected that, so don't say anything. "Swoosh," "Whack!" and Clark whimpers and shakes, leaning against me. His face bright red, he looks over at me without making eye contact. I smile at him, mouthing, 'only two more.' He leans against me harder as we get, not two more, but three more whacks. The extra one for, um, whatever reason. My buttocks are molten hot! Even I need to shake a little, then shudder in a submissive fog as Dickie says, "Both of you on your knees."
Clark and I, our hands rubbing our butt cheeks, stand and then bump into each other, hurrying to turn around and get on our knees while Dickie is casually getting undressed, saying, "I'm doing you both a big favor here, but I might need to get both of you involved helping out. Just do what you're told, and I won't need to do extra paddling."
Clark's face is still scrunched up dealing with the first paddling pain. My butt cheeks are still hot and stinging too, but I feel awesomely submissive, mumbling, "Yes, Dickie." Clark takes a deep inhale, then, anxious to suck Dickie's cock, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, and I mean he sticks it out! What a tongue on this guy. It's long and wide, a healthy-looking rosy red color. Dickie's eyes open wide as he mutters, "That's a world-class tongue, um, what'd you say your name was?"
The tongue goes back in his mouth as Clark says, "I'm Clark Baker," and Dickie goes, "We don't use last names, Clark." Clark hunches his shoulders, murmuring, "I'm sorry." Dickie lightly smacks the top of my head, asking me, "I'll bet you'd love to have that tongue of Clark's on your dick." I nod my head too fast, and he chuckles, then grabs Clark's ponytail pulling his face against Dickie's crotch. Clark's tongue comes out, and wet-sounding licking commences. I'm staring, hardly believing what I'm seeing. In my submissiveness, I sprung a semi-hard boner during my paddling, and now, watching Clark licking Dickie's privates, my dick gets harder. And so does Dickie's dick, and so does Clark's dick.
Dickie's hard dick goes in Clark's mouth now as slurping and sucking sounds replace the wet licking ones. The sounds are similar to Gordon eating his bowl of cereal but infinitely sexier. Dickie grunts and moves his feet, then moans, and after maybe three minutes, he uses Clark's ponytail to pull his head back. When his cock is out of Clark's mouth, it sticks straight out. Yep, four inches of hard cock with its swollen head dripping precum. Dickie shakes his head, then yanks on Clark's ponytail, then points at me, muttering, "Suck his cock for a minute. Let me get it together. Jesus, what a tongue!"
Clark doesn't hesitate; he leans over and does a long lick across my belly and then holds my stiff cock in two fingers at the base and licks up and down the shaft as I grunt, "Ahh, umm..." He puts my cock in his mouth, and it's like two tongues sucking and licking my boner. Now it's me who's scrunching up my face, my hands going to Clark's head. "Ahh, ahh, umm... fuck, umm..." Dickie grabs Clark's ponytail again and pulls his head back. My cock comes out as hard as wood, and Dickie says to me, "Your turn. Suck his cock first, then you can have a turn sucking mine."
I'm grabbing my balls, my cock throbbing as I nod my head. Of course, Clark's penis is a wooden stub now too as he obviously likes sucking cock. Clark's taking deep breaths, sitting back on his ankles, not saying anything. Leaning over, I lick the pointy head, then take his hard penis in my mouth, swirl my tongue around it, and then bob up and down the short shaft. After the fifth bob, my tongue gets coated with his precum, a lot of it, and some leaks out the side of my lips. Dickie immediately pulls my head away and moves it to his cock, which I suck into my mouth.
His cock is sloppy with Clark's saliva, but only for ten seconds. Dickie only lets me suck it for a minute, "That's enough for now," as he's pushing my head away. When I sit back, my cock is sticking straight out. Clark leans over again and sucks on the head of my boner. Dickie's like, "Goddammit, I didn't say to do that," and yanks on Clark's ponytail. This is goofy, disjointed, and whacky, but it's got me aroused just the same.
Dickie lectures Clark and me as we're sitting back on our ankles. "You two are overdoing it, and that's pissing me off. You both like sucking cock too much. Anymore overdoing it, and you'll both be paddled." Clark and I look at each other, then back at Dickie, who goes, "Alright, whatever! Um, just try to be, ah, more normal, and I'll let you both suck my dick more. I always make sure you submissives get your money's worth."
All this lecturing and chaos have our dicks losing their rock-hard condition, and I'm losing any submissive sense I had too. Screwing up things further, Gordon sticks his head in the doorway, asking, "Can I borrow twenty bucks, Dickie?" Dickie takes a twenty off the bureau and hands it to Gordon, who mutters, "Thanks," and leaves. Clark raises his hand and Dickie goes, "What?" Clark asks, "Can I use the bathroom?" Oh boy, this isn't working, and the discount from Dickie's normal fees wasn't much to start with. He mutters, "The bathroom is at the end of the hall." Clark hops up mumbling, "Thank you, Dickie," and leaves.
Dickie sees by my expression I'm not happy, so he goes, "Okay, what the fuck... you can finish your turn sucking my cock." Okay, that's a little more like it. He's leaning against the bureau, his penis is almost flaccid by now. Since he's not coming to me, I walk on my hands and knees the four steps to him and pick his dick up in my fingers, then do long licks under his balls and on the inside of his thighs. He smells like a guy who needs a shower but not in a totally offensive way.
Stroking his short penis, I continue licking all around his groin area and finally feel submissiveness developing again. Mmmm, my nose pressed against the skin where his leg connects to his torso, I lap under his balls near his asshole feeling myself sinking into a decent trance, Dickie's absently rubbing my head, probably bored. My cock sucking can't match Clark's. I'm feeling good, though. I move his cock to my lips, lick the big head and then take the whole thing in my mouth and bob up and down on it. The third bob I do extra hard, and part of the head goes in my throat. The next bob, the whole head goes in, goes in very, very tightly making me gag, so I stop doing that.
Dickie pushes my head away when Clark comes back and timidly asks, "Can I do that too?" Dickie mutters, "No, suck his cock. Mine's getting tender." Chark gently pushes on my shoulder, so I sit back on my heels. He gets on his knees, bends over, and takes my fairly hard cock in his mouth again. Bruce leaves the room, mumbling, "Be right back," and, with my cock's head in Clark's mouth, his tongue goes to town. Jesus, I hold onto his ponytail and try not to gasp, but I gasp anyway. "Ahh, ooh, umm... Clark, ah..." It's only twenty seconds, but he's created like a suction thing going on, and I need to really yank to get him to let go of my cock's head or I'm gonna blow my load prematurely.
I'm like, "Jesus, Clark... Gawd!" He looks down, murmuring, "Sorry," so I go, "Oh, that's okay," and rub his shoulder. Dickie's back, drinking from a bottle of water, then says, "Did you get your money's worth so far?" Clark nods vigorously, "Oh, yes, definitely, Dickie." I go, "Yeah, I guess so. It's been, um, different, but..."
He chugs more water, puts the bottle on the bureau, and says, "Clark, suck my dick for five seconds to get it hard, then stop! After that, I'll fuck both you submissive cunts until you both climax." Clark goes at it and, hmm, Dickie lets Clark suck his cock for longer than five seconds. It's obvious Dickie is loving it. He finally pushes Clark away and says, "Good, that's good. Now both of you grab the bed's bottom board and stick your asses out. I'll get a condom," and he goes in the top bureau drawer to do that.
Clark's right arm and my left one are touching as he looks at me, making only fleeting eye contact, he murmurs, "This is the best sex I've ever had." That is so 'effing sad! I lie, "Yeah, me too." Clark is growing on me, ya know? He's a nice, humble kid, and, yeah, he's kind of cute too... in a weird way. I ask, "What are you doing later?" He blushes, "Um, I could meet up with you if you want." Dickie goes, "Stop talking, you two!" Clark mumbles, "Sorry," then, "Ahhh!" as Dickie shove's his cock inside Clark's ass."
Making a gurgling sounding noise, obviously, in pain, Clark mutters, "Feels good," but he was straining to say that, so I know he still hurts from the abrupt entrance. Immediately, I hear the "Slap, slap, slap" sound of Dickie's crotch slapping again Clark's buttocks. When you have a short cock, with every thrust you smack your bottom's ass. Fast slapping sounds with Clark moaning, "Ah, ah, ah," just as fast. It's getting me hot and bothered waiting for my turn. Then it occurs to me that when it's my turn, Dickie's condom will be covered in Clark's ass juices and maybe remnants of his feces as well. Holy shit, that gross... but rather sexy too.
Looking back, I see Dickie with his hands on Clark's shoulders pulling Clark back into the fast hard thrusts, Dickie grunting with every thrust and Clark still going, "Ah, ah, ah," and it goes on for four or five minutes with me getting seriously aroused. I'm itching for my turn as Dickie stops thrusting and tells Clark, "Let go of the bedboard and we'll both take three steps back." Then to me, "Get over where he was and we'll do a train. I'll kill two birds with one dick." I scramble over as Dickie tells Clark, "Fuck him while I'm fucking you."
He doesn't need to tell Clark twice as, "Ahh!" Clark plugs his cock in my ass. Oops, no condom. Clark starts fucking me rapidly, like a dog in heat fucks a bitch in heat. Dickie snickers as Clark's rapid thrusting to and fro fucking me is also fucking himself going back and forth on Dickie's boner. It only lasts for about ten seconds before Clark lets out a yell, "Eeee, Aaah!" and shoots a nice creamy stream of cum that splatters against the walls of my bowels. It all happened so fast, I hardly realized what was going on! I barely had a boner never mind climaxing!
Clark is gasping as I look back at Dickie again. He's still humping his cock in Clark's ass with his eyes closed. His groans I recognize as the sound of desperation that happens just prior to climaxing. Then, as I expected, he stops, presses hard against Clark's buttocks, "Ooh, oooh, ahhh," as he's filling up the condom with spunk. I've squirmed to the side, Clark's cock coming out of my ass as another long gasping exhales comes from Dickie. "Ahhhh, Ummm." He pulls his cock out, muttering, "Great asshole, Carl! That felt fabulous!" Clark is shaking as he mutters, "I'm Clark, not Carl."
Swell, but what about me? Standing, I feel Clark's cum running down the back of my legs as I go, "Hey! What the fuck is up with that, Dickie?" He holds his hands out, "I couldn't stop, so sue me. I'll give you your seventy-five bucks back. Something like this happens to me once or twice a year..." I go, "Fuck, I'm all horned up here." He looks at Clark, "Um, no, he won't be any more help. Hey, I'll get Gordon to do you. Be flexible, and don't forget; I'm doing you a favor."
I go, "Fuck, Gordon!" Then I remember he has a cock very much like Bruce's. No, I don't want a cock very much like Bruce's; it might detract from how special it is with Bruce. Hmm, I also don't want to burn any bridges here with Dickie, so I calm down and say, "Um, no, but thanks for offering Gordon, that's okay. Um, and you can keep the seventy-five bucks." He says, "Thanks, I'll make it up to you, Zeek." Clark mutters, "He's Zach."
Dickie ignores that and hands me some tissues that I use to hold at my asshole. Then Dickie holds out the condom to Clark, mumbling, "Flush this." Holding the condom with two fingers, out away from him, Clark carries the gooey condom to the bathroom with me following him. He flushes it and we wash up as best we can. I do one final wipe on my ass and Clark goes, "I don't see any more cum coming out."
Back in the bedroom, Dickie says, "Both of you grab the end board there at the foot of the bed, and I'll finish up by doing the second part of your paddling." Clark goes, "That's okay. You don't need to, does he, Zach?" I mumble, "I didn't even get off, so forget about that, Dickie." He picks up the paddle, saying sternly, "No, I'm not forgetting about it. It's part of the deal with you two 'S' type clients. If you hire me, paddling before and after is mandatory whether you reject getting fucked or not."
Shit, today was a complete disaster, but it'll just be Dickie and me tomorrow, so I don't want to screw that up. I say, "He's right, Clark. Remember, you just got a damn good double-fucking." He nods, "Okay," and we do what our dom tells us and grab the bed's bottom board, or whatever it's called, then push our asses out. As I said, Dickie has a fetish and usually springs a boner from paddling his submissive clients.
There's the swooshing sound as Dickie practices swinging the paddle and then the "Whack" sound as it connects with Clark's buttocks... "WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!" as Clarks cries out, Ahh!" after each one, leaning hard against my side. Then my three "WHACKS" which feel good because I've learned to embrace the pain, plus paddling gets me sinking into a docile and submissive frame of mind which feels good too, so when Dickie asks, "Do you feel you deserve another?" I go, "Yes, Dickie," and he gives us each another whack.
Putting the paddle in the bureau drawer, he says, "You can get up now. You're both done." Clark and I stand, rubbing our buttocks with both hands, as Dickie says, "How about a tip, Clark?" Feeling submissive to Dickie now, I'm sort of on his side, saying, "Yeah, where's his tip, Clark?" But then, I look at Clark and see the tears from the paddling and go, "Ah, c'mon, Dickie. Um, sorry, but can't my seventy-five dollars covert Clark's tip?" Chark sniffles and says, "I only have twenty dollars left." Dickie's shaking his head, so I pick up my bathing suit and take a fifty out, mumbling to Clark, "I'll lend you fifty," then hand it to Dickie, asking, "Is this enough?" He takes it and says, "Yeah, it's good, but you're going to need to arrange a date with me through Richard from now on. I don't want this kind of fiasco to happen again." I go, "Yes, Dickie," and he mumbles, "Both of you get dressed and get outta here. I've got things to do."
What a prick! Yeah, but, as I said, Clark and I are 'S' type clients, so Dickie feels he's just doing his job. It's working too as both Clark and I hurry to get dressed, acting humble, docile, and submissive. Dickie shakes his head as if we disgust him, and then he walks into the kitchen. He's talking to Gordon and doesn't even say goodbye as we leave.
Outside, horny as a warthog now, my paddling submissive sense evaporates, unfulfilled. Taking a deep breath of humid hot air, I pat Clark's back, saying, "It's been nice meeting you, Clark." He looks past my shoulder, saying, "You too, but, um, don't you want to meet me later?" This morning has been so fucked up, and Clark's little pointy-headed dick didn't do much for me. I go, "Um, ah..." and he says, "Oh, no, that's okay if you don't want to..." Oh fuck, the poor guy. I go, "Yeah, no, I mean, yes, I want to. Um, do you have a car? I left mine in the parking lot on the twentieth street lot."
He points at a late model Volvo, saying, "I've got dad's car. He and mom are on the beach." I'm like, "Oh, you came to Atlantic City with your parents, huh?" Nodding, he goes, "Yeah, for the weekend. Can I give you a ride to your car?" Shrugging, I mumble, "Yeah, sure, although it's not that far."
We get in his dad's car, and he starts the engine as I ask, "How do you know about the pussy boys?" Driving away, he says, "I've used them in Delaware where I live... Dover, Delaware. They're less expensive there." I'm like, "You should see the prices they charge in New York City." He drives carefully, too carefully actually as he's saying, "Boy, Dickie gave me my money's worth today, but I'm sorry you didn't get your money's worth. I want to thank you for letting me fuck you and for taking care of my tip 'cause Dickie sure deserved a tip."
Oh, brother! I muter, "It was nothing, um, your welcome, and you fucked me good, Clark." He goes, "Thanks, I wish I could have done it better but I was sort of in a coma and didn't even know what I was doing. Um, if you'll give me your address I'll mail you the fifty dollars as soon as I get paid next Friday." Shaking my head, I mutter, "Nah, that's okay. Forget it." He goes, "No, I want..." and I emphatically say, "Forget it! Okay?" Then, realizing I'm taking my exasperation about this morning out on Clark, talking quieter, I add, "It's my treat, Clark. I enjoyed meeting you, and, um, everything...." He thanks me profusely as I nod, "Uh-hu, you're welcome..."
I tell him where to drive and at the parking lot, he says, "The least I can do is let you suck my dick and then I'll try to get you off with an imitation of the fuck Dickie gave me. It'll be my treat, Zach." I do a fake cough covering my mouth to hide my grin and laugh. "Um, Omigod, thanks, Clark." He says, "I need to connect with my folks first, but I can meet you back here in two hours, say at two o'clock." Huh, it could help a little I suppose, so why not?
I say, "Thanks, Clark. I'll be on the beach directly down from that rental booth," as I point to it. He holds out his hand, so I shake it and mumble, "See you then." Clark says, "I'll do my best although I'm not an experienced top." Swell. That's a shocker...
Getting out of the car, I'm like, "I'm sure you'll do great. I'm, ah, looking forward to it, Clark. See you at two o'clock." For the first time, he grins, which surprisingly eliminates anything I felt was cute about his face. The grin makes him look like a total toad. Gee, that's the opposite of Bruce when he grins, plus the same for Markie. It's rare, but I've seen it before. The smile or grin turns an otherwise good-looking or cute face into a goofy one.
I wave as Clark pulls away, then get the towel I brought with me from my car and head for Markie's booth, feeling out of sorts after today's weird time with Dickie and Clark. And, other than superheroes, you don't meet many guys named 'Clark', do you?
At the rental booth, I find Markie reading another paperback book, so I tap on the counter. He looks up, and I go, "What are you reading, Markie?" He holds up the front cover, and I see "Alexander The Great And His Times" by Agnes Savill. I make a face, "You're into history, are you?" He puts the book down, gets up, and asks, "Where's your smile?" Forcing a smile, I go, "I didn't have the greatest morning ever. How about you?" He goes, "I'm sick of this job. Whaddaya want, the same?" I nod and mutter, "Yeah, a chair and umbrella, but after this job, you'll be back in school." He sets out a beach chair, takes the ten spot I put on the counter, puts it in the register, then hoists an umbrella on his shoulder and says, "I like school."
We walk to my spot on the beach, then after Markie sets the umbrella firmly in the sand, I mutter, "Thanks," and hold out another ten-dollar bill, and he rolls his eyes, saying, "You don't need to do that. You've tipped me more than everybody else combined, um, just about." I go, "Yeah, well, buy yourself another paperback book." He does his grin, puts the bill in his pocket, and says politely, "Thank you." Ha, see, that's a cute grin!
Naturally, I forgot sunscreen, so I sit under the umbrella, wishing I'd thought to bring a paperback book. Five minutes later, I'm joined by Cowboy and Lee, but not Henry and Antoine. Lee, as always, hugs me and Cowboy kisses me, asking, "What's happening, Zach?" I ask, "Where have you guys been. It's almost noon."
They set up their chairs as Lee's saying, "We had to get something fixed on my motorbike, then mom texted me to come home, so we went to my house, and I had to fill out another form for college. I already did it once, but they claim otherwise. No big deal." I'm like, "So, Cowboy, are you going to join Lee at his university?" He goes, "Nah, I've decided that would be too much trouble. We're going to make frequent road trips, and then, during college breaks, we'll meet here with you and Bruce."
No subtle pressure there for Bruce and me to stay in the apartment. What the hell... if we need to relocate, I'll keep paying rent on the apartment for the boys to use. I go, "Um, where are the other two? Henry and Antoine." Lee laughs and then says, "Cowboy gave Henry a bloody nose last night because he was getting overbearing." Cowboy mumbles, "Yeah, I
Zached him. Ya know, no sense fucking around with it, so I broke his nose. He was getting obnoxious, and then he slapped Lee. Can you believe that shit?" Lee goes, "He slapped me because I laughed in his face for telling me to run over and get him a cold drink."
I'm like, "Don't bring me into it, Cowboy. You punched him, and good for you, but don't say you Zached him. Christ, what will your parents think?" He snorts out a chuckle, then says, "It felt good too." I ask, "Well, what happened then, ya know, after you punched him?" Lee chuckles and goes, "Antoine whispered to me that he's wanted to do that a hundred times." Cowboy shrugs, "After I punched him, Henry told Lee and me to get fucking lost." Lee adds, "So we did."
Haha, it's cute how they finish each other's sentences. Ah, well, dumping Henry was perfect as far as I'm concerned. Antoine was okay, but Henry, no thanks! I seriously don't know if I could take another afternoon with him. The boys and I talk about crazy stuff and laugh, then go in for a swim. Cowboy buys us pizza and sodas around one o'clock for lunch. At ten of two, I tell the guys I'm going for a walk and then reluctantly head up to the parking lot to intercept Clark.
Shit, I only get halfway to the rental booth and see Clark on his way down the beach... it's a good thing I left when I did. He doesn't see me, so I yell, "Yo, Clark!" He turns in my direction and does that goofy-looking smile, saying, "Oh, hi! Thank you for meeting me. I guess I'm anxious, huh? It's only ten of two, and I was already walking down to find you." Putting my arm across his shoulders, I say, "I'm early for our date too." He does his insane-looking smile again, so I'm going to try not to say anything that he might grin or smile at.
Surprising me, when I put my arm across his shoulders, buddy-buddy-like, he puts his arm around the back of my waist, like we're boyfriends. Fortunately, when walking by the rental booth, Markie's reading his book and doesn't see us, or he'd ask me about it.
Well, it'd be awkward taking my arm away now, so I'm stuck walking like this to Clark's car. Oh, hell, it's not so bad. Haha, he's my type, right? He's youngish, cute when he doesn't smile; plus he's slim and short. So, except for his undersized penis, he's just right. Well, I don't like his ponytail at all, but that's nitpicking. He timidly says, "If you think it's alright, we can go to my motel. Mom and Dad will be on the beach till five o'clock at least."
I squeeze his shoulders, and he squeezes my waist, quietly adding, "This is awesome of you, Zach. I was really nervous about doing this, but you're awefully nice." I again mimick Cowboy's lack of modesty and go, "Everybody tells me that, Clark, but, um, you have your own room at the motel, right?" He goes, "No, I'm in with mom and dad." Oh, fuck... the poor kid!
I'm like, "Are you positive your folks won't leave the beach early?" He says, "They didn't yesterday, and we're not leaving for home until early tomorrow morning, so they probably won't." They probably won't, huh? That's not nearly good enough. I go, "You know what? I'll get us our own room. That'll be better." He looks up at me, "Really? For me, you'd rent a room?" I'm like, "Of course, you're worth a room rental, right?"
He frowns at that, mumbling, "I don't think, um, I hope you're expectations aren't, um..." He clears his throat, adding, "I'll try my best, but I mean, well, I've never had the opportunity to, um, be with anyone nearly as, ah, ya know, good-looking and sexy as you." I pretend I'm shocked, "Seriously?" Looking up at me, but his eyes are looking over my shoulder, he goes, "Yeah, I'm serious!"
We're at his car now, so I take my arm off his shoulders and say, "Well, I think you're special. You're a cute guy, and I like slim guys like you." It's his turn to be surprised, and he puts a lot more emphasis on it when he asks, "Really? You mean me?" I go, "Yes, of course, I mean you." His arm is still around me as we stand here, and, yeah, it's awkward!
Shaking his head, he takes a key fob from his pocket and pushes a button on it that unlocks the car. After a second with him still standing here, I go, "Should we get in the car?" He finally takes his skinny arm away, mutters, "Oh, yeah, but it's gonna be hot in there."
We get in, and Clark starts the engine, puts down the windows, cranks up the air conditioning, then asks, "Where do I go?" I direct him the short distance to the same cheap hotel I always use. During the drive, for something to say, I ask, "So, how early are you and your folks leaving tomorrow morning?" He says, "Five o'clock at the latest. My dad and I need to be at work by eight o'clock." I'm like, "Where do you work?" He says, "Amazon. Dad got me a summer job there, but I spent most of what I earned this summer on pussy boys. That was incredibly irresponsible of me because what I earn is supposed to go for my spending money and books when I go back to college, but I couldn't help myself."
When we get out of the car, he puts his arm around the back of my waist again, so what the fuck can I do? I put my arm across his shoulders, and we go inside the hotel like that with me rolling my eyes, not that Clark can see me do it. Inside, I ask, "Don't you have a boyfriend or sex buddy... anyone?" He shakes his head vigorously, saying, "Nope, I'm so far in the closet no one can see me in there. No one knows I'm gay except pussy boys and, um, now you."
In the lobby, I'm like, "Would you mind waiting here for me, Clark?" He doesn't mind, and then at the counter, the clerk recognizes me and is very friendly. Using my AMEX card, I rent a room for one night, figuring Dickie and I can use it tomorrow morning. Yeah, I've already committed myself to do what I'm told, so I'm going to do as Dickie said and arrange a date with him through Richard. I'll do it online later this afternoon.
I've got the key card, so I wave at Clark, pointing at the bank of elevators. We meet there, and he says, "This is so cool, Zach, renting a room. Are you rich or something?" I mutter, "Sort of," and he puts his arm around my waist again, so, jeezus, my arm goes across his slim shoulders..."
We wait for the elevator like boyfriends, then get off the fifth floor and walk down the hall with our arms around each other. It's okay, though; nobody sees us. Haha, as I said before, Clark grows on you. I hug his shoulders, and, dammit, he looks up at me with that grotesque grin of his, but without making eye contact, which actually helps. But, Jesus, hasn't anyone ever mentioned to him his grin is, um, not good?
At the door, he asks, "Um, Zach, shouldn't I lead the way, or, um? I mean, I should probably have the key card too, don't ya think. You need me to be the dominant top, doncha?" He couldn't dominate a kitten! I go, "You're right, Clark," and give him the card key. He opens the door, mumbling, "I'm not going to be good at this, I just know it..." I mumble, "No, you were good earlier, and I'm feeling submissive already." He looks up, giving me a cute freckled-face look that he probably feels is a confidant look. It's not, he looks frightened, but at least he didn't grin or smile.
I nod for him to go inside, then follow him into the room. It's a familiar generic hotel room, exactly the same as the last one I had here. The price is right, so I'm not complaining. Clark looks around and goes, "Wow, nice room! Oh man, this is swanky!" Glancing at him, I start to chuckle but see he's serious, so I fake a cough. He says, "You should see our motel room." No, I shouldn't, but him saying that... I don't know; I hug his skinny shoulders again because he's so pathetically innocent, or incredibly naive... or something. It's snobbish of me to think that way, maybe, but I feel sad for him, okay?
He taps his foot, then puts his arm around the back of my waist again and hugs me, saying, "Should we get undressed now?" He changed his clothes from this morning. Instead of jeans, he's wearing a pair of nondescript shorts that appear too small even for him and a plain white Tee that's the type usually worn under another shirt. I say, "Good idea," and he takes his arm from around my waist, then pulls his T-shirt off, mumbling, "Oh, damn! Excuse my language, but I just remembered I don't have a condom. I was going to buy some before meeting you at the beach, but..." I go, "Damn, I forgot to bring one too."
Tapping his foot again, he looks at the floor and asks, "Do you think it'll be alright doing it without a condom again?" Stepping out of my swimsuit, I'm like, "Yep, um, you already did it once without a condom, so, um, unless you know something I don't. Ah, you're clean, right?" He nods as he takes his shorts off, mumbling, "Yes, I took a shower after, um, Dickie, ah, you know." That's not what I meant, obviously, but he's only had sex with paid pussy boys who always use condoms, so he's safe. He looks at the floor, mumbling, "Do you mind if I ask why you don't have any hair around, un, your privates?" I tell him, and he says, "Wow, that's interesting. Was it hard training?"
Oh fuck, I don't want him thinking of doing that. I go, "It's hideous, and I couldn't take it, so I quit. You don't want any part of being a pussy boy trainee!" He looks over my shoulder, mumbling, "Dickie's my size and he could pass the test, but you couldn't?" I nod; "That's right." Frowning, he goes, "But why would you even want to be a pussy boy if you're rich." Patting his shoulder, I go, "Good question. It's complicated and let's just say I know now that I'd rather pay for it. I wasn't cut out to be a pussy boy."
We're naked, still just standing here. Clark, unlike Dickie, who has never felt the need to mention his short penis, says, "Ah, that is, um, ya know, I'm sorry about my small dick, Zach. It's what I was born with, so... um, sorry." I gently pull on his ponytail, mumbling, "Whaddaya talking about? You saw Dickie's dick, plus you fucked me earlier really well? Hell, I pay him to fuck me, right?" He quickly goes, "I'm not gonna charge you anything." Uh-huh, that misses my point about dick sizes entirely.
To get things moving along, I go, "What should we do now, Clark. You're the boss." He shrugs, "Um, do you wanna, um, suck my dick." I say, "Yep," and get on my knees, then lean over the same way I need to with Dickie. Clark's red pubic hair patch is neat to the point it almost looks as if he grooms it, although he obviously doesn't. It naturally grows this way, and, as I mentioned before, his cream-colored torso with freckles on his shoulders is naturally hairless, and void of muscular definition.
He's very clean and smells nice as I lick up what I'll call his four-inch penis, although it's shorter than that in this flaccid state. I lick it from the pointy head to the root and into his red pubic hair, which I didn't intend doing except the trip was so short I couldn't avoid it. Then I do it again, and he rubs my head, mumbling, "And you still have the pussy boy haircut too. The Delaware pussy boys have the same haircut."
Ignoring his ramblings, I concentrate on what I'm doing because I like doing it. I'm missing the bulbous head and girth of the shaft on Dickie's penis, but Clark's dick is the same length, so it's almost the same thing. Well, not really. That's me trying to talk myself into believing it's like Dickie's. The third time I lick up Clark's dick, it responds and tightens up noticeably, so I hold it in my fingers and lick his balls which, like Dickie's, are normal size but appear larger because of the shortish cock. Moving his lower hanging nut around with my tongue, it feels fairly heavy, so I'm not surprised he shot that big orgasms inside me earlier.
Mmm, by now, I'm getting into this, although with zero sense of submissiveness. My dick hasn't responded much so far either, but licking the inside of Clark's thin thigh, then the side of his scrotum gets Clark grunting as his dick firms up more in my fingers, and my cock begins firming up a little bit too. This is recreational casual sex without much in the way of high expectations. Sucking cock is simply something I enjoy doing, and, as I've said, I like Clark and feel a little sorry for him, so I want to make him feel good.
When I've covered his scrotum with saliva, I put his firmed-up penis in my mouth... all of it. With both my hands on Clark's butt cheeks, which are a bit flat, I'm swirling my tongue around the head of his cock hoping it'll get larger, but it doesn't. Giving up on that, my lips suck up and down on the shaft, which gets his dick growing slightly longer, and then it gets very hard, very quickly. Clark is groaning and shuffling his feet so much he's making it difficult for me to keep his whole cock inside my mouth, so I begin bobbing my head. My lips covering my teeth and putting extra pressure on the shaft I bob up and down and the third bob, his dick head goes partially in my throat, and subsequent bobbing gets the whole head going in and out of my throat.
In short order Clark is pushing at my head, going, "No, ahh, I'm going to..." and I pull my head back, letting his hard cock side out of my mouth on my tongue. There's a string of precum that breaks off drifting down my chin that I try licking off, then swipe at it with my fingers. Clark goes, "That was close." My fist closes on my semi-boner, and Clark sees me do that and mutters, sounding amazed, "I get a boner from sucking cock too."
I nod, wiping my mouth again, then say, "We both like doing it, right?" He goes, "Yes, sometimes that's all I can afford, and I'll suck off a pussy boy in dad's car." I almost laugh, "Dad would be surprised if he knew that, huh?" He goes, "God forbid."
We're both casually stroking our cocks as I ask, "What should I do now?" He looks around, then goes, "Jeez, we don't even have lubricant. I've read online that you should always use a lubricant. Damn, I screwed this up not buying a condom." I go, "Check the bathroom, Clark. They'll be something in there we can use among the complimentary toiletry items."
With his boner in his fist, he scurries into the bathroom. My dick is quickly losing its partial hard-on. He comes back, his boner bobbing up and down now that he's not holding it. He shows me a small tube of hand lotion. I shrug, "Let's try it." I'm not too concerned about lube because his dick isn't that big even as a boner, plus there's a pointy head at the end. Hell, it went in easy-like earlier and it should go in even easier with the hand creme helping.
Clark is uncertain what to do now, so I get on my hands and knees, saying, "Do you want me to lube up my asshole?" Shaking his head, doing a partial goofy-looking grin, he says, "No, I should do it, right?" I mutter, "Whatever you say, boss."
He unnecessarily spreads the lotion on my butt cheeks using the palm of his hand to smooth it out, back and forth, then more lotion on both my buttocks before pressing some of it at my asshole, which is the only place that needs it. Finally, he's pressing lotion inside, opening my anus to allow his finger in there. Clark is breathing raggedly, short ragged breaths as he finger fucks my anus. I'll bet he's unaware of the prostate gland being the source of much of the pleasure in that region. He doesn't rub it, although his finger moving up and down gets my prostate sensitized, and I squirm a little as my dick gets a little firmer.
When I'm about to mention he's lubed me enough, he gasps and murmurs, "That should do it," sounding out of breath. A second later, his cock is inside me. Goddamn, it hurt a little too. No, nothing like, for example, when Richard thrust his cock inside me, but it hurt a little this time and I didn't notice it at Dickie's, but that was all fucked up. Clark's cock is wider than his finger, pointy head or not, so his boner spread me open. It's a fleeting pain, but it woke me up... yeah, smallish cock or nor, I'm finally getting a full fucking today, and it feels pretty good.
And, as he was earlier, Clark's an energetic fucker so there are fast and furious, "Slap, slap, slap" sound right off the bat. My rectum tightens on his boner, and I'm soon feeling good sensations. Nerve endings aren't aware of the size of their initiator, they're being activated, and pleasure from them gets me moaning, "Um, um, um, oh, oh..." I'm soon closing my eyes and enjoying a casual wave of sexual pleasure, not intense at all, but it's constant, and it's lasting quite a while too. I don't know, maybe seven or eight minutes before I realize it's been that long. My cock is a hard boner up tight against my belly as Clark keeps humping that wooden rod back and forth inside me, and it feels good!
Finally, my climax awakens and quickly grows stronger as I increase my groaning that sounds desperate even to me, and I realize I'm going to blow my load as I moan, "Ahh, oh oh, Clark, ahh, ahh," and my climax explodes, shooting straight out whizzing past my neck, cum spray wetting a bit under my chin. I shudder, feeling great as I tighten my stomach muscles and shoot out a final spurt, then slump a little as Clark goes, "Eeeii, ahh," and fires his second cum load of the day inside me. I didn't feel it, but immediately, his thrusting is sloppy, with some cum splattering out of my ass with each of his last three thrusts.
He's gasping for air, lying on my back for a few seconds before lifting and pulling out. Squeezing his dick, he mutters, "Oh, wow, that worked out okay... I did way better than I expected. I've only topped one pussy boy so this was my second attempt at topping. Um, third if you count me doing it at Dickie's." Standing, I look around and spot a box of cheap tissues. Grabbing a bunch of them, I hold them at my asshole, saying, "That was better than okay, Clark, that was great. I needed that too, so thank you."
He's doing his unfortunate smiling again, looking at the floor, mumbling, "I'm glad 'cause I was nervous but didn't want to disappoint you. I really went at it, didn't I?" I hug his shoulder, saying, "Yep. Gee, I wish you weren't leaving tomorrow. You can top me any time." His arm, of course, is around my waist as he squeezes, saying, "You could be my submissive bottom if you lived in Delaware." Okay, let's not get carried away here...
I ask, "Should we clean up a little, do you think?" He goes, "Yeah, okay." In the bathroom washing up, he looks at the sink, asking, "Would it be alright if I took some of the toiletry things here and in the shower?" He wants this cheap shit? I go, "Yeah, of course."
As he's collecting the small sample size item that I assume he'll take to college with him, I go into the living room. He told Dickie he's down to his last twenty dollars. So, what means so little to me will seem so big to him. I get his wallet from his shorts and then get all the money I have from my bathing suit. I put five hundred dollar bills, four fifties, and assorted twenties and tens, all the money I have on me in his wallet. Putting the wallet back in his shorts, I get dressed.
He comes out with both hands holding lots of small toiletry items, smiling his goofy smile. Huh, his flaccid dick now looks incapable of providing the pleasure I received from it. He says, "These toiletry things are great... thanks a lot. I'll take them all to college. Save me some money." I go, "Good, they'd never get used otherwise." He wistfully says, "I wish you lived near me, Zach." I mutter, "Me too," and, as he puts his old-fashion white jockey underpants on, I ask, "So, why the ponytail, Clark?" He says as if anyone would know this, "Tonsurephobia." I'm like, "Uh-huh, what's that?" He says, "I have deep anxiety and fear about getting my hair cut."
I'll just let that pass, saying only, "Oh, I see." He's dressed now, and says, "Should we go?" Nodding and feeling as if I should offer this, I go, "Sure, um, do you wanna hang out with me on the beach?" Walking down the hall, he says, "Thanks, I'd like to, but my parents are wondering what I'm doing, so they want me to spend the rest of the day with them." He puts his arm around my waist, so I put my arm across his shoulders and say, "I understand. Parents are like that." This kid is almost twenty-fucking-years-old!
We pass people who give us funny looks because we make an odd couple walking as gay boyfriends, which Clark appears to be oblivious about. At his car, I take my arm away, saying, "It's only a block from here, so I'll walk to the beach. I had a great time with you, Clark. You're a terrific dominant top." He looks down, saying, "I did okay. I surprised myself, but I wanted to please you so bad." I go, "Well, you did!" He says, "If we lived close, I'll bet we'd be boyfriends. We hit it off from the start, didn't we?" I nod, "Absolutely. Well, it's been great," and I kiss him a quick kiss. He blushes, mumbling, "We'd be boyfriends for sure." I go, "Yep, bye, Clark."
He goes, "Bye," and I walk away, not knowing what else I could have done. I mean, he said he needed to be with his 'effing parents. I offered to hang out with him. Fuck, I feel bad for him... that's all. I did my best, and I feel okay about it. It was a decent fuck. Well, it wasn't hot and wickedly sexy, certainly not comparable to sex with Dickie and never mind sex with Bruce.
Every climax doesn't need to be the experience of a lifetime, though. No, while there's no comparison to sex with Bruce, there isn't with a horse and a car either, for example, but both are modes of transportation, so, if you don't have a car, a horse has its value in getting you from here to there faster than walking. Sex with Clark was like that... it got the job done, and I'll now be able to meet Bruce on the beach without leering at him and dry humping him.
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com.
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