The following story contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations between two consenting adult homosexual men. If such content offends you or is illegal for you to view due to age or laws in your state or country, please do not continue. All persons and events in the following story are fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
I'm fairly new at this, so comments and criticisms are welcome. Enjoy.
The Bartender and the Bass Player
The club was packed that night, full of hipster frat boys and the women they don't call the next day. I was busy filling drink orders with sexually suggestive names and trying to keep Jenny, the other bartender, from devolving into a mewling infant over her most recent fight with her boyfriend. This one seemed to be about her cat, Snuffles, so she was in a particularly tenuous mental state. I hadn't heard of the band that was playing, but judging by the size of the crowd, they were either really good or really famous. Experience had told me that one did not necessarily mean the other.
I had been tending bar here for nearly two years and had seen many a band come and go. I had heard so much white boy angst backed by three chords and a drum line that I had stopped listening to the bands altogether, focusing instead on the cleanliness of the taps or the number of clean glasses. As a young woman wearing hoop earrings with a wall of bangs that could stop bullets stood quizzing me on the ingredients in a Blow Job, I figured tonight would be just like any other Saturday.
"Gin and Tonic," a male voice said to my right.
"Finally, a normal drink," I said, turning to greet the customer.
"A classic," he said. As I looked up at him I decided he could order a blow job from me anytime. He was my height, about 5'10", with shaggy dark brown hair and stubble on his cheeks. The dark hair contrasted beautifully with his fair complexion and his firm, pink lips. He wore thick, black-rimmed Buddy Holly glasses and the green eyes behind them were bright and piercing. From what I could see of his body, he was sinewy and strong. A sandwich wouldn't have killed him, but I wasn't complaining.
"Coming right up," I said, trying to maintain my professional decorum as lust drifted through my nostrils and threatened to buckle my knees. I grabbed the bottles and poured the drink as he kept his gaze on me. Experience had taught me that this club was not a good place for me to meet men, the clientele was almost fascistically straight. But something in the intensity of his look told me this guy might actually be interested.
I slapped a napkin down on the counter and set the drink on top of it. He laid five bucks on the table and took a sip.
"Nice," he said. I reached for the till. "Keep the change". He downed the rest of his gin.
"You want another?" I asked, a little startled by the speed with which he had finished.
"Nope, have to get backstage," he said. "See ya later." He bowed his head a bit, then turned and walked to the back of the club toward the stage door. Of course, he was with the band. The few cool guys we got were usually with the band.
I continued taking orders. Jenny was unable to pour anything with Apple Schnapps in it since it reminded her of her boyfriend. This complicated matters when a gaggle of women, each one fancying herself the Carrie of the group, ordered three rounds of "Tartinis". I swear, two of them had necklaces spelling their name and another had a giant flower pinned to her chest. Posers. I watched the band set up. My guy seemed to be the bassist. A pert young woman was setting up the drums. And two guys, one of them wearing a Che Guevara shirt, were arguing over the set list on the side of the stage. White boy college rockers, oh goody.
The owner introduced the band then went back to his office to snort coke or whatever it was he did back there in his feeble attempt to be the straight Steve Rubell. They began to play. It became clear pretty quickly that the drummer was chosen simply because "chick drummers are cool" as one of the hipsters huddling around the bar commented. She had no discernible talent. The lead guitarist was decent and seemed to know at least five chords. The singer had abandoned singing in favor of a sort of rhythmic wail. But the bassist was damn good. Or damn hot. It was hard to tell anymore.
As they broke into a plaintive power ballad about some selfish ex- girlfriend, named Deborah who had refused to return the singer's vinyl records I caught the bassist looking at me. There was an intensity in his eyes as he strummed his guitar forcefully. His forearms were well-developed and I could see the sinew and muscle tense and release as he played. He made me instantaneously develop a fetish for forearms. I returned his gaze and he gave me a tiny smile, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Oi! Can we get some service here?" I shook myself out of the stare and starting filling orders again. Every song seemed to be about the same bitch from Hell (the singer's phrase) named Deborah. In fact, half the choruses consisted of variations on either "Fuck you, Deborah" or "Come back, Deborah." I didn't know the guy, but his neediness combined with his desperate, failed attempt at bed-head made me think Deborah and I would get along well.
I looked up after every order and each time the bass player's eyes were still on mine. It had been so long since I had felt an attraction like this I wasn't sure exactly what to do. And it's pretty hard to look seductive when you're running a blender.
As the set drew to a close, we were crushed with orders. Jenny had run in the back to call her boyfriend, so I didn't have a chance to catch the bassist's eye before he left the stage. By the time Jenny returned, the club was emptying out and the band was nowhere to be seen.
"Everything's okay," Jenny said with a girlish lilt. "Jerod says I can keep Snuffles as long as she stops crapping in his shoes." She seemed to think this was the most romantic statement any man had ever said to any woman.
"I need to take the trash out. You okay out here?" I asked.
"Fine. The crowd's almost gone," she said. I gathered up the trash bags and headed out the side door into the alley.
As I threw the bags into the dumpster, I heard a match scratch against a matchbook. I looked down the alley. There he stood, Sexy McForearms, lighting up a cigarette. He seemed to be alone. I should go talk to him, I thought. But that would be the brave thing to do and I never did the brave thing.
"Hey, can I bum one of those," I asked, approaching him. This guy was too cute to chicken out.
"Hey," he answered, pulling a cigarette out and handing it to me.
"Nice set," I told him. It was vague enough that I didn't have to be talking about the band's performance.
"Dude, we suck." He answered, laughing.
"No, it was great."
"Please." He slanted his eyes a bit and grinned at me sardonically.
"Okay," I acquiesced. "But you're damn good. Much better than the rest of them."
"Thanks. I know how awful we are, but it pays. The lead singer's Dad is loaded. His girlfriend dumped him and he decided to get revenge on her through rock and roll."
"Oh," I said. "From his lyrics, I would have never known. What was her name? Deborah?" He laughed.
"You gonna smoke that thing?"
I looked at the cigarette, the whole pretense of this conversation.
"Oh, yeah," I said, putting the cig to my lips.
"You don't have to, just to look cool."
"You mind if I don't?"
"Not at all. I'm Jonas, by the way," he said, extending his hand.
"Sam," I said, meeting his firm grip with my own. We held the shake for a millisecond longer than usual. His hands were incredibly strong. They set my mind dancing.
"I fucking hate cigarettes, but I'm addicted. I only allow myself one after a show and one after sex now." I hoped his pack was full.
"Pack a day smoker, then?" Was I being playful? What the fuck was going on?
"Yeah, carton on a good day," he smirked. We chatted for a while. He was from a town about an hour down the road. He asked me about bartending and I explained that it was paying the bills while I worked at becoming a paid author. He hoped to someday sign up with a band that didn't suck. We both wanted to get the Hell out of this state.
"So, how long have you guys been touring?" I asked.
"A couple months. We're heading home in a couple days before we begin our World Tour." There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"World Tour? Really?"
"Yeah, Corey's dad booked us a gig in Moosejaw. The big time."
"Congratulations, you've made it." He smiled and his eyes sparkled behind his glasses. He raised one eyebrow and looked into me intensely. There was an awkward pause and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to fill it, so I just returned his look. Suddenly he threw the cigarette down, stamped it out and moved in to me, forcing my back against the wall. He put one hand on the brick wall behind me, then took my chin in his other hand and pulled me in for a kiss.
My mouth was closed at first, still in a little shock at the speed and force of his move. I opened it and felt his long, warm tongue extend into my mouth. I sucked on it before closing my mouth around his perfect lower lip. He let out a little moan. We continued to kiss, then he released my mouth and moved his head so his mouth was right next to my ear, his hot breath sending shivers throughout my body.
"I want you to fuck me," he whispered, his deep voice stirring something in my stomach. Goddamn he moved fast. I could feel the hard cock in his cargo pants rubbing against my own. I was lost for exactly how to respond. I had kinda wanted him to fuck me, but who was I to argue?
"Oh yeah, I would love that." I answered, my voice betraying my nervousness.
"When do you get off?" He asked, his voice still breathy and low.
"Half an hour."
"I'm staying at the Regency down the street. Room 134. Come by when you're done here."
"Okay." He kissed me again, softly, then turned and walked down the alley toward the street. I stood thunderstruck for a moment. He turned his head back at me and smiled lasciviously. I had no idea my dick could get that hard.
I hurried Jenny through the closing routine, my heart racing. I wanted to get over there as soon as possible, but my stomach seemed to be putting on a community theater production of Twister: The Musical. I was not the type to meet a stranger in his hotel room. My experience up to this point had all been with guys I had dated. The sex had never been casual. I wasn't sure how I felt about having an anonymous encounter, but I banished any fantasies in my head about this turning in to anything more. I just met the guy. But he was so fucking cute. I took a look at myself in the mirror.
My blond hair, which hung straight to just above my shoulders seemed to be behaving. I had shaved before work, so my face was still pretty smooth. I wasn't exactly wearing my sexiest outfit, but my light blue ribbed t-shirt was at least clean as it clung to my slightly defined body. I debated asking Jenny if my ass looked okay in my jeans, but decided against it.
"What's with you tonight?" she asked, eyeing me suspiciously. "You got a date or something?"
"No," I lied. "Going straight home." We finished cleaning up and I grabbed a six pack of beer and followed Jenny out the door. The hotel was a couple blocks down the street, so I decided to leave my car at the club. I pretended to fumble with my keys until Jenny had pulled out, then checking to make sure she was gone, I headed off down the street to the hotel, my heart threatening to crack my ribs with its beating.
"I want you to fuck me." The words banged around in my head. I could feel his mouth next to me ear, the sweet hot breath. I tried to shake it off so I could keep walking without falling on my face.
It was a nice hotel. Not luxury, but not a fleabag either. I found room 134, took a deep breath and knocked. The door opened almost immediately.
Jonas stood before me, his shaggy brown hair wet from what I assumed was a shower. He wore an orange t-shirt which clung to his pecs and abs. His baggy cargo pants did me no such favors. But he still had his glasses on. Mmmmm.
"Hey," he said. "I was afraid you weren't going to come."
"Well, that remains to be seen," was what my gutter mind wanted to say. But I settled instead on, "I said I would." He stepped back and opened the door, letting me in. I think he took a moment to appraise my ass.
"I brought some beer. You want one?" I asked, setting the six pack on a small round table on the side of the room.
"Um, no thanks. I kinda want to be sober for this. Don't want anything impairing my memory. Plus, you make a damn strong Gin and Tonic." He smiled at me. I left the beer alone. Staying sober sounded great.
"Um," I said, "I've never done anything like this. I mean, gone to some guy's motel room."
"Neither have I," he said.
"Yeah right. You're with the band." I smiled at him.
"I'm not saying I haven't had opportunities, but." He looked deep in my eyes. "You want to listen to some music?" He seemed a little bit nervous, not quite as in command as he was in the alley. It was endearing.
"Sure." I sat down in a chair as he walked over to a small portable stereo. His ass? Firm and beautiful. "Can I take my shoes off?"
"Please," he said, smiling. "You like Lou Reed?" I told him I did. As "Sweet Jane" began, he walked to the center of the room.
"Come here," he said softly. I rose and walked toward him. We stood, six inches from each other, our eyes locked on each other. I felt his hand brush up my bare arm and under my short sleeve. I reached my hand up and ran my fingers through his slightly damp hair, then pulled his mouth to mine.
Our open mouths touched softly and I could feel his stubble tickle around my lips. It wasn't coarse, but soft and sensual. His mouth was warm, enveloping my tongue like a soft stick of butter. He sucked on my tongue as our hands and arms began stroking and caressing each others' upper bodies. His back muscles were firm and defined. And his hands were strong and determined. As our kiss grew deeper and deeper he grabbed my ass and smashed our bodies together.
"You are so fucking hot," he said as my hands moved under his shirt and touched his bare skin. He lifted his arms so I could take his shirt off. His pale white skin offset dark, hard nipples on firm, slightly defined pecs. There was a tiny bit of soft dark hair between them. His body was perfect. I immediately put my mouth on his shoulder and tasted him. He was clean, but there was no hiding the salty, sweaty musk. I lapped at him as my mouth closed over his skin.
"Lift your arms," he said. I complied. I felt his hands graze the bare skin as he grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. We stood there, shirtless and locked in an intense stare. His hand came up and he ran his fingers through the hair covering my chest.
"I love chest hair," he cooed as he used both hands to massage my pecs. I smiled. "And these dimples." He took his index finger and traced the smile lines in my face. His finger traced over my lips, pulling the lower one down a bit. Then it made it's way down my neck as I threw my head back. His finger continued its way down my body, making detours to gently flick each nipple, then down over my stomach, into my navel and through my trail to the button fly of my jeans. He fumbled with it a bit, then closed his mouth around my Adam's apple.
My hands were sliding all over his bare back. He turned me so my back was to the bed, then walked me back. His strong arms supported me as my knees bent and we fell onto the bed. I was on my back and he laid to one side, his leg entwined with my own. He propped his head up and stared into my eyes and his hand continued stroking my chest hair.
"You're beautiful, Sam." Hearing my name in that Jack Daniels voice of his spread a warmth throughout my body.
"Oh, God, so are you, Jonas." I whispered. He closed his mouth over mine again and kissed me with a new force. He hoisted his body up and now lay directly in top of me, our tethered cocks rubbing together slowly. He kissed my cheek and ear, then gently bit into my earlobe. I let out a sigh. He was the least selfish lover I had ever had. He kissed down my jawline, then positioned himself. His hot breath caused my nipple to stand straight up. He closed his mouth around it and gently sucked, his tongue slathering back and forth. He turned his attention to the other nipple until both were wet, hot and hard. I felt his nimble fingers undoing the buttons on my jeans. He was playing me like a bass guitar, but then what did I expect? I lifted myself up as he pulled my jeans down leaving me only in my white cotton briefs.
"I see someone's been a little excited," he smirked, eyeing the wet spot where my cock had leaked. His leaned down and licked it. My cock jumped. "Mmmm, you taste good." He closed his mouth around my bulge.
"Take em off. Please, take em off," I begged. He closed his teeth around the waistband and pulled them down, my cock springing free. I lifted myself up again and I was soon naked. He raised himself up a bit and surveyed me.
"Fuck, you're hot." He dove down and took all of my 6 and a half inch cock into his mouth in one move. I threw my head back and cried out. His throat muscles strummed all over my head as his tongue bathed my shaft. He started slowly moving up and down, each time sending me deeper inside him and deeper into ecstasy.
"Stop," I said breathlessly. "I'm having all the fun."
"I wouldn't say that," he said as my cock slid out of his mouth.
"Lay down," I said, turning on my side. He obliged. I leaned in and kissed him. "You want me to work your nipples a bit?"
"No, please take my pants off." He was practically begging. I slid down and placed both my hands on his fabric belt, unfastening it with a lot less flair than he had done mine. As I unzipped his pants I was surprised to find that he wasn't wearing underwear. I looked up and his eyes glinted. Bushy brown hair was poking up everywhere. He raised his ass and I pulled his pants down and off. His cock, about the same length as mine, stared right up at me. It was thin, veiny with a large mushroom head. And the slight curve to it made me immediately think of my hard to reach places.
I kneeled down on the floor between his legs and looked up, past balls and gorgeous cock, through his thick bush to his sparkling green eyes, still hiding behind those adorable glasses. I smiled and snaked out my tongue to tease his balls. He closed his eyes and bit his lip and sighed. I opened my mouth and took his large right ball in my mouth, feeling the coarse hair and smooth skin moving all over my tongue. When it was sufficiently wet, I turned my attention to the other one.
"I love that," he cooed. I sucked harder. His cock had a thick undershaft which drove me wild. I barely touched it with the tip of my tongue and he moaned again. I traced my way up to the head, slowly. Then I closed my lips around the head and slathered it with my tongue. I opened my throat and millimeter by millimeter took his deep in my mouth.
"Holy shit," he moaned. I held him in as long as I could, using every part of my mouth to caress him. "Sam, I want you to fuck me. Please."
I wordlessly released his cock and licked his balls again, then, spreading his cheeks, made my way down his perineum. His pink rosebud stared at me, challenging all of my love-making skill. I pointed my tongue and got it, bull's-eye, right in the center. He let out a huge, baritone scream. This boy had one sensitive ass. I licked back and forth, soft, then hard. He continued to pant and moan. I rolled my tongue and started pushing inside him. His hole at first was having none of it, but then suddenly opened and let me in. I slowly pushed back and forth.
"Here," he said gutturally, throwing me a condom and some lube. I put some lube on my finger and spread it around his hole, gently spreading it inside his slowly relaxing hole. I tore open the condom and prepared to unfurl it on my pulsing cock.
"No, let me," he pleaded. I stood up and walked over to the side of the bed. He took the condom and then with both hands slowly spread it down my cock. His strong fingers touching every nerve ending I had.
"You want it fast or slow?" I asked.
"I just want it inside me." I moved back down between his legs. I grabbed him at the ankles and lifted his legs over my shoulders, taking the time run my fingers up and down his hairy shins and calves. I positioned my cock right in front of his hole, then leaned forward and he took the head in. I hoped the rooms next door were empty because he was screaming at the top of his lungs. I felt the warmth of his tight hole envelope me as I slid into him, moving at the speed of molasses. His muscles tensed and relaxed all over my shaft as our bodies melted together. Finally I felt my bush pushed against my skin by his body. I looked down at his white skin. The firm hints of ab muscles, the tiny patch of hair on his chest, the dark, hard nipples. Then I looked into his eyes and saw them staring back at me. I could see deep inside him. I leaned down and he pushed himself up until our mouths met in a soft, wet kiss. He lay back down and I slowly pulled myself out of him until just my head was in. Then I pushed myself back in, then out again. In, out, in out. Slowly gaining momentum.
"Oh God, that is so good," he moaned.
"Your ass is so wonderful," I breathed back, my own breath becoming ragged. I thrust in and out of him faster and faster. His moans gave way back to screams. I couldn't keep myself quiet either, letting out deep moans and nasal squeaks and he started pushing himself into my cock.
The force of our fucking was causing our bodies to slap together loudly. We were screaming and grunting. Each in our own ecstatic worlds, yet feeling like we had become one body at the same time. As I thrust deeper and harder, his own moans became higher and more ragged.
"I'm gonna come!" he squeaked, his voice full of need. I immediately enveloped his cock with my lubed hand and started stroking him fast. As his voice gave way to the unmistakable sounds of orgasm, my own cock unleashed a torrent of warm cum inside him. Ropes of cum shot out of him and all over his chest. I kept thrusting and stroking, both of us crying out. As the waves of cum gave way to gentle ripples, our breathing relaxed and I collapsed on top of him. I moved myself to pull out.
"No, leave it in, Sam," he whispered into my ear, kissing the lobe gently. I obliged, just laying there feeling his warm sweaty body against mine. My cock took a while to soften as I listened to his breathing. Finally it fell out with a gentle plop. He turned his head and looked at me. A wide, contented smile spreading across his pink lips. I smiled back.
"You don't have to go home tonight, do you?" he asked.
"No," I answered, a little surprised. I didn't ever want to go home. He wriggled out from under me and stood up.
"Why don't you get in bed." He walked over and turned out the light. Seeing his lithe naked body in the light of the streetlight outside made blood run back to my dick. I undid the covers from the bed and slid inside. They felt warm and soft on my naked body. He flicked off the stereo and walked to the bed, pulling the covers up.
As I felt him slide over to me and drape his arm and leg over my body all the tension in my muscles seemed to float up and out of the room.
"That was amazing," he sighed.
"Yeah, you're wonderful, Jonas." He took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. He turned back and looked into my eyes.
"I want to know you, Sam." Suddenly my heart lurched a bit into my throat. "Maybe this doesn't have to be a one-time thing." There was a tenderness in his voice, and a little fear and nervousness too. I barely knew this guy. I knew more about the inside of his ass than I did his childhood but something in my chest told me that would change. I was suddenly thinking about fate.
"I want to know you, too." He smiled and kissed me tenderly. We melted into it, like it was our first kiss. He laid his head on my chest and I stroked his hair.
We lay there talking for a couple more hours, trying to learn as much about each other. He was smart and we laughed quite a bit. We found out we were the same age, 23. We both had arts degrees which meant menial labor until we hit it big. And the thing we both wanted more than anything was to fall in love. As his breathing on my chest faded into sleep, I had a strange feeling we would both get out wish.
The Bartender and the Bass Player, part 2
I awoke the next morning from a deep, dreamless sleep. I lay on my back and I felt Jonas's head still nestled on my chest and his legs braided with mine. I looked down at him, smelling his hair. I didn't have much expertise in these situations, but I didn't think it was usual for the morning after a casual encounter to feel so safe.
Jonas stirred and lifted his head up to look at me. Our eyes met and he ducked down to softly kiss my collarbone.
"Morning," he said, his voice deep. "You sleep okay?"
"I slept great. You?"
"Oh, yeah. Didn't crowd you or anything?"
"Not at all," I said, pulling him closer to me to drive home the point. He laid his head back down and stroked my chest hair. We lay there a moment in comfortable silence.
"Um," he said with a sheepish lilt. "You have anywhere to be today?" Last night's confidence was replaced by an adorable shyness.
"Nope. It's my day off. You?"
"Not till 9 o'clock. We have another show. You wanna hang out?"
"I'd love to," I said, stroking his shaggy brown hair and tickling his ears a bit. "What do you wanna do?"
Suddenly he pounced up and landed on top of me, straddling my naked body with his own. The bed bounced up and down and I let out a giggle.
"This," he said, leaning in to give me a sweet kiss. I opened my mouth and let his tongue explore, then gently pushed my own tongue into his mouth. He sucked playfully at my lower lip then raised up and looked deep into my eyes. "You're beautiful," he said.
"So are you, babe," I rasped, a little choked up.
"Ooh!" he said, jumping off of me and throwing the covers back. He put his glasses on and ran over to the wall opposite the bed. I looked at his milky white ass. It was firm and hairless, with dimples like ice cream scoops on either side. He bent over and grabbed his acoustic guitar. Slinging it over his shoulder, he turned around. There he stood, naked, with only the shiny brown guitar and his Buddy Holly glasses to hide behind. I think I fell in love with him right there. He tensed his body, raised his left hand above his head, then swooshed it down and strummed fiercely across the strings. He repeated the motion a few times then broke in to a familiar riff I couldn't quite place. I laughed and sat up in the bed as he began to dance around, his face screwing up into a visage of pure concentration. His knees bent as he tensed up for a particularly tricky lick. It was the sexiest mother-fucking thing I had ever seen. As he finished the song he looked up at me and smiled.
"You are so sexy, dude," I said, shaking my head at him in disbelief. A twinkle crossed his eye and he settled himself and started playing an intro to a song I recognized. Then his voice began. It was soft and sweet, with just a hint of nasal twang. I felt it pour into my ears like some sweet, intoxicating liquor.
"Look at the stars.look how they shine for you," he sang, his eyes never leaving my own. "And everything you do.yeah, they were all yellow." The words and the song were familiar but they had never made me feel like this. It was as if we were the only two people in the universe, locked and spinning around each other in a perfect moment. I wanted to leap up and make love to him right then, but didn't want to moment to end.
"I drew a line.I drew a line for you." His voice was beautiful. He was wasting his time as a bass player, he deserved his own band. As he moved in to the instrumental bridge, he started slowly walking toward me. It was an oddly theatrical move. One which, if I had seen in a movie, would have seemed cheesy. But it didn't. It was wonderful.
As he finished the lyrics he leaned in and kissed me. He stood straight and took the guitar off, then laid back down next to me on the bed. I lay on my side and looked into his eyes.
"You're won-" I started, but he put a finger to my lips. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.
"Why don't you go take a shower, then we'll go get something to eat." His fingers filtered through my hair.
"I'd rather if you came with me," I said, my lust overpowering me.
"Don't ruin the surprise," he said playfully, tousling my hair. I smiled and got up, walking toward the bathroom.
"Goddamn, that's a cute butt," he said as I walked away. I shot him a smiling glance over my shoulder as I stepped into the bathroom.
I stood under the warm water, feeling it wash down my body. I ducked my head under the shower and wet my hair. The shower was a large rectangular tub, bigger than average. Sliding glass doors sat to one side. I saw Jonas's silhouette through the frosted glass. The door slid open and he stepped in, setting a large bar of soap on a small ledge.
He stepped toward me and took my face in his hands. As our mouths met I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in. The water now ran off both our bodies. He broke the kiss and ducked his head under the shower, opening his mouth so some of the water pooled and ran down his chin. He swallowed and drew me into a firm, wet kiss.
"Turn around, baby." He said and I obliged. We positioned ourselves so his back was to the shower head and mine was to him. I felt his open mouth on the nape of my neck. As I closed my eyes, he made his way over my shoulder, his tongue lapping all the way.
"Fuck me. Please, dude." I whispered hoarsely.
I felt his mouth right next to my ear as he hissed sexily into it. "You're gonna have to be patient." He gave my earlobe and gentle kiss.
I felt the bar of soap on the opposite shoulder. Applying a bit of pressure, he started swirling it around on my back. I could feel the lather develop and spread. Some of it started trickling down the small of my back. He caressed me with the soap, moving in larger and larger circles all over my back. Then I felt his hands move up and start washing down my right arm, then my left. He took time to massage my shoulders a bit and I felt the tension flow out of me and, carried by the water cascading down our bodies, spin down the drain.
He told me to turn around and I stood, facing him. Our eyes locked as he started lathering up my right pec. He leaned in a sucked my left nipple. I let out a sigh. As he had done on my back, he swirled the bar around and around, the thick lather getting caught up in my chest hair. Then he took my hand and raised my arm above my head. Our fingers locked as he gently stroked my armpit, then slid the bar down my soft under-arm. He repeated this on the other arm, but this time leaned in to suck a bit on my neck. When my entire upper body was covered in suds, he kneeled before me.
"Hold on to something," he commanded. I grabbed the top of the shower door. I prepared myself for his mouth, but was surprised when he knelt down and took my right foot in his hands. I wasn't prepared for the sensations as he soaped it up, then moved in swirls up my leg to my inner thighs. He grazed my balls and I let out a little moan. He set my leg down, then went for the other one, repeating the process. But, this time when he reached my balls, he took them into his hands and started fondling them.
I felt his hands flit through my bush as he moved the soap all around. Finally, all but my dick was covered in foam. He rubbed the bar in his hands, building a strong, creamy lather. Then he wrapped both of his hands around my cock. I bit my lip and sighed loudly through my teeth.
He moved his lubricated hands back and forth on my cock, trying to keep the whole thing covered, like the grip of a baseball hitter. As his hands moved faster and faster and he fumbled with my balls with his thumbs, my groans of pleasure became louder and louder. My body was spasming and my hips were involuntarily thrusting back and forth.
"Dude, stop, I'm gonna come." I begged. But he just picked up his pace. Waves of joy ripped through my body as every nerve I had seemed to start at my cock. He continued to stroke. "Please."
I let out a choked gulp as I felt the orgasm reach critical mass. Streams of cum shot out of my cock, hitting his chest and face. Some of it landed in his open, waiting mouth. He kept stroking to the point where my eyes rolled back and I almost passed out. When I was spent, he gently released my softening cock. He looked at me with all the smarm he could muster and licked his lips.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, ashamed at my lack of stamina.
"For what?" he asked, incredulous. "For that? Don't ever apologize for that. I just wanted you good and relaxed for phase two."
"Phase two?" I raised an eyebrow at him. He stood up gently grabbed my lower lip in his mouth.
"Turn around and lean over," he told me. I didn't need to be told twice. I felt the water hit the back of my neck and run down my back. He got on his knees behind me. Holding the soap in his hand, he began soaping up my right cheek as he kissed the left. I felt him spread the lather all around one side, then the other. He took the bar and soaped the beginning of my crack.
Then, placing his other hand on my back, he pushed me down so that my hole was exposed to him. The bar stroked slowly down my crack, but did not touch my hole. He repeated, moving the bar back and forth, each time getting closer and closer to my hole. Finally, I felt it graze my rosebud and I let out a grunt.
"Relax," he said in a claming tone. "Just relax." It was hard with the attention he was paying to me, but I tried to oblige. Finally I heard him set the bar of soap down and I felt one soapy finger peek into my hole. He pistoned it in and out at a glacial pace as I heard a condom wrapper open.
He stood slowly and lined himself up. "Now, I want you to breathe deep. Stay as relaxed as you can. I wanna slow-fuck you as long as we can."
"Okay." I was so turned on, and my voice was so breathy, I'm not even sure if he heard me. I felt his head lightly tease my hole. I took a deep breath, trying to relax every muscle in my body, and especially that one. My hole opened up as he slowly pushed the head in. I let out a noise consisting entirely of "n"s, building in volume and intensity as he moved in.
Then, like a film moving a frame at a time, I felt his shaft push further and further into me. His pace was constant, rhythmic. One more perk of having a musician inside me. His bush gently pushed up against my ass and then I felt his body contact mine. He pushed a millimeter further and my body erupted in what felt like cool, blue sparks. He had touched something, found a hidden panel, and unleashed what felt like cool blue fireworks in every part of my body. I tensed and let out a loud, ecstatic scream.
"Relax, baby," he said, his hands caressing my back muscles gingerly. My lungs filled with air again and I slowly exhaled. Then, just as slowly and perfectly as his cock had slid in, he slid it out. His pace was constant and I could feel his hot breath on my back. It was taking all the concentration either of us had not to just start fucking like rabbits.
I felt his cock slide methodically back in. He reached an arm around and pulled me into his chest. Like a Swiss clock, he would push in, then pull out, resting each time for a precise measure of time. I wondered if a song was running through his head. Each time he was in to the hilt, the same wave of sparks flicked through my body.
"Nice and slow, baby. I want you to feel everything." I was melting. It felt like the only part of my body not liquefied was my hard, throbbing cock. The steady rhythm of his cock was sending my brain into a reverie. It was as if thick, cloudy tendrils were lifting us up as one body, letting us float freely in space. I'm not sure how long we spent slow-fucking. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Time meant nothing. The details of my life up to this point meant nothing. All that mattered was this beautiful man inside me.
"I'm getting close," he whispered, but his pace never wavered. I felt a soapy hand engulf my cock and stroke, in lock step with his cock. Our breaths became short and each one carried a soft grunt with it. With monkish control, Jonas slid in and out and stroked back and forth. He was fully collapsed against my body now. I was afraid any moment we would both turn to jelly and fall on the shower floor.
"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss," he hissed and I felt warmth emanate from the head of his cock. This set me off in turn. Focusing only on staving off any tension in my body, I felt hot pulses of pleasure shoot up my shaft and throughout my body. I was coming, but it was unlike any orgasm I had ever had. The cum didn't shoot out, it just sort of dribbled. It was soft and intense. And, I decided, it was the purest joy I had ever experienced.
Jonas kept himself inside me as he lay on my back, breathing slowly. "That was amazing," he said, his voice dripping like honey.
"Yeah," was all my exhausted brain could come up with. We stayed there, letting the water pound against us, for a few minutes until his soft cock slid from my hole. My hole ached at the loss. Slowly we rose up. I turned around and met his deep gaze with my own. We leaned into each other, but we did not kiss. Instead, we wrapped each other in a warm, exhausted hug. It took us awhile to finally catch our breath.
After a few moments, we stepped out of the shower and softly wrapped towels around each other until we were dry. We walked out and collapsed on top of each other in bed.
"We seem to be going in circles," I said after a moment, smirking at him as my hands wrapped around his back.
"Yeah," he said. "You hungry?"
"Little bit," I said as my stomach, with perfect comic timing growled fiercely. He rubbed my belly and lay his head on my chest.
"Sam," he said a slight quaver in his voice. "Am I crazy." He trailed off, not finishing the thought.
"No," I said. "I don't either of us is crazy."
We lay there for a few more minutes, then dressed and walked to the hotel restaurant to get lunch. We were each still buzzing around in a cloud as we talked, getting to know each other better, parroting back each other's life story to make sure we had the details right. His dream was to move to New York and start his own band. New York sounded fine to me.
As we stood at the podium paying for our meals, he reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. We spent the rest of the day laying in bed, talking and listening to music. Naturally, he had very good taste in music and he began testing me on bands and songs. I passed with fairly high marks which impressed him. The evening we undressed each other and climaxed, just rubbing or bodies together.
"When are you coming back to town," I asked as his 9 o'clock appointment approached.
"Two months," he answered, sadly.
"Shit," I said.
"I take it you'd like to see me when I get back?" he asked, smiling.
"Hell, yeah." I said.
When it was time, he walked me back to my car. We stood beside it facing each other. He leaned in and gave me a tender kiss as the van containing his bandmates pulled in to the parking lot. It didn't phase him as he placed his hands on my head and drew me into a deeper kiss.
I did see him again in two months. And we wrote or talked nearly every day in between. We spent as much time together as we could when he was in town. Sometimes, if his tour dates were close enough I would drive out and see him.
In fact, the first time he told me he loved me was as we lay together, wrapped in blankets, on a bare stage in a club across state. The words hit me with such force that I lost my breath. They immediately filled me with a contented warmth. But my skin suddenly became gooseflesh.
"Okay, don't answer," he said as I lay in silence.
I lifted my head up, looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Sorry," I said. "I was just processing how good it feels to hear that. The fact that I love you? I've known that for a long time." He pulled me in a little tighter and smiled broadly.
We did end up moving to New York and he started his own band. Our apartment was a dump, but the bed was nice and that was really all that mattered. Sure, we had our fights. He has a strange obsession with the location of the TV Guide. But they were tiny and faded quickly. Sometimes I would just stare at him and think, "Is this Him? Is this the one?" I was amazed at my incredible luck.
And tonight, as I felt him inside me, a feeling which is now familiar but feels, each time, powerfully new, I asked myself the question again.
And as he leaned down to kiss me, as I felt his soft pink lips on mine, I knew. I just knew.
The End.