ALPHA

ALPHA

By Simon Traum

It's 10:33 on Friday night.

     After a short, angry search for a vacant space, Donny parks the car in the bar's lot.  A repeating, low bass tone makes itself known as he shuts off the engine.  He's already buzzed.  His pulse hammers almost in time with the bass tone coming from the building.  There's a dull pain, low in his stomach, making his abdomen muscles tense unconsciously.  Time for another drink.  Build up a decent head of steam to blow off.  Frustration and alcohol seem to go hand in hand for him.

     The music is much louder inside the building, which is filling up fast.  The bartender greets him, gives him his usual.  He downs half of it at once, looking forward to further effects.  So far, he's feeling mean.  God help the shithead that gets in his way tonight.  Wouldn't be the first time he's ended up in a scrap here.  He knows the owner, who has a weakness for war vets; they never kick him out for good.  He's aware that the bar's security team is suspicious of him, but he knows they're busy right now, too.  It's coming up on peak hour, and they've all got their hands full.  With a building full of rowdy customers jostling around him, they can't concentrate on Donny.  Just as well, since he doesn't want anything to do with them if he can help it tonight.

     Except for one.  He looks around, scanning the crowd for him.  He's got something for that big-ass bastard.

     Ignoring whatever song they’re playing - some country shit - he passes the Men's room on the southwest corner of the building, and recalls that he fucked a guy up the ass in that bathroom once.  No shit.  It was the night they had the riot here at Trask's, about a year ago.  Amazingly, Donny missed it since he had his hands full, first fighting, then fucking that dark-haired dude in a sealed stall.  He's never seen the guy since, which he regrets, but he's never regretted that fuck.  Sometimes his memories of the weekend are faint or vaguely focused due to the amount of drinking he does, but this one remains vivid.  He can still remember the rush he had for a week afterward, crystal-clear.  He still thinks about the guy when he jerks off.

     He ain’t no faggot, but that was the best fuck he'd ever had.  Well, until recently anyway...

     It's not enough, though.  It never is.  There's just not enough fucking in the world to make up for all the bullshit, and now he's well on his way to drunk and getting increasingly pissed off.  There's a crop circle developing in the crowd around him.  The regulars know to steer clear when he stumbles or yells or breaks something.  That's usually about the time security closes in on him.  If not the cops.

     He has a knack for getting arrested.  Everyone seems to know it.

     Watching him, you'd swear he was about to explode with fury.  He's only in his late 20’s, not a very large guy, but he looks unpredictable and dangerous.  The veins on his neck and forehead are sticking out.  The large, clear blue eyes on either side of his broken nose communicate vexation and psychosis, practically advertising his immanent violent explosion.  His tight, compact body is tensed as his light blond head jerks around, practically glowing in the dark, searching for what?  Most people are probably glad it's not them.

     Finally, Donny spots him.  That big blond ox of a bouncer who put him in a headlock and threw him around the place three weeks back.  Donny hasn't forgotten how that felt.  Well, he's here to pay the big guy back, even if he is twice Donny's size.  Glowering, he makes a beeline for the bouncer, who's glancing around, hasn't noticed him yet.

     He's gonna nail that fucker.

Hold on. 

     Back up.

     Before we go there, there's some stuff about Donny that's maybe not obvious yet.

     Rewind back to quite a few years previously, to when Donny found himself with a newly broken nose and a split lip in a barracks almost deserted except for Donny, the bigger man who sat on his shoulders, crushing him face down into the cot he was bleeding on, who told him, "Private, don't make me break your face any more than I already have," and the other one, who violated him painfully from behind while Donny's teeth chattered with humiliation and agony.

     No.

     Never mind.  Look away.  You never saw it.  Forget it.

     Donny spends a lot of time forgetting it.

     He doesn't want to think about that.

     So, instead, let's take a look at something more recent: a few weeks, not quite a month ago, when Donny found himself at loose ends.

     It was sometime during the afternoon.  He'd been drinking, so the details are fuzzy, but the man's name was Kane.  With a K.  Australian.  Tall.  Dark.  Yeah, pretty fuckin' handsome, too, with a way-hot body and the longest dick Donny'd ever seen, but we're getting ahead of things.  And his boyfriend was Nick, who was Donny's age and who'd been in the Army, too.  They’d hit it off quick.

     He'd been hanging out by some hotel's deserted pool, trying to think through the heat and his buzz, trying to ignore the pain he was feeling in his stomach more and more lately.  Wasting what was left of the day.  He didn't know anyone here, wasn't entirely sure where he was.  What staff were on duty were busily ignoring him, hoping he'd go away.  He'd been left, abandoned.  Again.  Okay, he'd done some yelling, but he hadn't punched anyone yet.  They all leave anyway, sooner or later.  Fuckers. 

     Then these two walked out into the sunlight, wearing tiny black bathing suits.  He watched the pair of them from under the shade.  The tall one was clearly in charge.  The other looked younger, had quite a few tattoos, looked ex-military, from the haircut.

     Suddenly, Donny was spellbound, electrified.  His pulse hammered.  It was just the three of them in the pool courtyard, so his attention couldn't help but focus on them.  Both men were very good-looking, in kickin' shape.  Donny's dick stirred in his shorts, catching a buzz of its own.

     The tall one glanced over a few times as the pair spread towels over loungers.  Then they waded into the pool, gradually submerged themselves.  The tall one said something to the shorter one, who nodded and started swimming laps down to Donny's end of the pool and back.  He went back and forth a couple of times, blue water jumping around him in bright sunlight.  Donny was thinking about getting in too, when the guy hauled himself dripping out of the water right in front of him.

     "Hey," he said, "my friend and I saw you over there.  I hope I'm not bugging you.  My name's Nick."  He smiled.  Donny felt drawn to him immediately.  He had a high-pitched Southern twang to his voice and a body that looked even better up close.  Green eyes.  Little patch of light brown chest hair between his lower pecs.  Small tattoos scattered all over him.  Donny felt like he might swoon.  The guy looked too good to be true.

     "Donny."  He stood up and offered his hand, slightly dizzy.  He nodded.  "I saw your tatts.  Were you in the service?"  He pointed out his own sole piece just above his biceps.

     "Yeah.  Hey!  You've got the dogtags, too!" Nick noticed, putting his own shoulder up next to Donny's to compare them, almost identical.  Nick’s skin felt warm next to Donny's, whose cock gave itself an instant pump up.

     "Hell, yeah, brother!" Nick enthusiastically responded.  Abruptly, he grabbed Donny and hugged him hard enough to feel Donny's pulsing chub pressing against him.  Donny felt panic well up.  He started to squirm, but the dude's arms were strong and he wasn't letting go.  Nick drew back for a second, watching Donny, and placed his palm over the bulge in Donny's crotch.  "Hey, nice," he murmured, stroking it lightly.  "Now I'm getting one, too."  He pulled Donny's hips closer to his so they could rub their bulges together under the shade.  Nick grinned like he couldn't help it, touched one blunt fingertip to Donny's earlobe, traced a cool line down his neck, making him shiver.  Donny’s hands tentatively stroked the other man’s skin.  "You should come over and meet my guy," Nick said softly, indicating the tall man with a jerk of his head.  "It's only fair, he saw you first."

     They were gorgeous, both of them.  Donny was smitten.

     Nick was Kane's boyfriend.  Nick was from Alabama originally, Kane from Melbourne.  They were passing through.  Kane had sent Nick over to get Donny interested.  Even if there'd been competition, they both would've wanted Donny.  This was easier than having anyone else in the way, distracting them.  They took him upstairs to their suite, started kissing him, which felt fine.  Their warm tongues lapped against his, getting his cock harder and making him think maybe the day wouldn't be a total waste.

     Kane liked being in charge.  He took control of the situation immediately after they'd locked the door.  He had a lot of ideas, and he liked to direct.  That should have bugged Donny, but Kane was extremely masculine and very good-looking, and Donny liked kissing him.  After a while, he found himself realizing that he, just like Nick, would do whatever Kane asked, was anxious to please him.  It was only fair, since everything big man Kane told him to do ended up feeling pretty fuckin' incredible.  Yeah, Donny had no trouble following orders that afternoon, just like being back in the Army again, except it felt good.

     "Brilliant," Kane said, his Australian accent thick as molasses.  "I was hoping we'd find a nice blond."  He ruffled his fingers through Donny's yellow shock, then eased his damp swimsuit down to his feet. 

     "Suck my cock, boy," he abruptly told Nick in a much harder voice, placing a large hand on Nick's shoulder.  His long dick was pulsing its way up, a second at a time, to full rampant erection.  Donny couldn’t take his eyes off of it.  It stuck out, gradually extending beyond its foreskin, in front of Kane's trimmed crotch, huge and pretty as fuck above the fat, low-hanging balls.  Skimming his own bathing suit down his legs, Nick obediently dropped to his knees on the carpet, and Donny watched fascinated as he enthusiastically grabbed Kane's prong by the base and shoved his mouth over it, wetting its length and stroking it with his lips. 

     Kane moaned loud as Nick began to bob on the huge tool.  Donny’s cock responded with a jump inside his shorts.  He watched, paralyzed and fascinated, as Kane’s eyes closed and the bigger man pumped his hips roughly toward Nick’s face.  “Take it all, boy,” he gasped through his groans.  “Take care of this cock.”  Danny was really starting to dig the accent.

     Then Kane grabbed his head, "C'mere," and locked mouths with Donny, who couldn't help moaning himself.  Donny doesn't kiss much, not even women, but this was just fine.  He could make out with Kane all afternoon.  Kane's strong hands moved down over Donny's bare neck, shoulders, chest, sides, found the waistband to his shorts and pushed them down his hips.  The only obstruction was Donny's jutting hard-on which Kane grasped in his warm paw once it had been freed.  Donny's arms snaked up Kane's torso and around his broad shoulders, feeling every muscle on their way.  Kane's body was naturally smooth and hairless, like Donny's tightly-muscled frame, just tufts at the pits and crotch, Kane's hair pitch, Donny's straw.

     Nick had settled into sitting back over his bent legs, leaning forward on his fists as he diligently took Kane's now-massive erection in his drooling mouth.  Donny'd never seen a man that handsome sucking a dick and liking it.  Sucking cock was just something you put up with.  But Nick looked like he lived for it, eagerly taking the Australian's amazing length down his throat.  Donny couldn't stop staring whenever Kane wasn't kissing him.  Eventually, Kane suggested, "Why don't you go down there and help him out?"

     Donny didn't even think about it, just dropped onto his knees beside Nick.  He watched Nick's blowjob for a few seconds from the side, noting the position, among other things.  Nick’s cock was sticking up in the space between his kneeling thighs, the disproportionately large head dripping, unnoticed, onto the carpet.  Leaning forward, Donny dragged his tongue up from Kane's ballsack to the thick, warm base of his pulsing cock and into his short, dark pubes as Nick's face continued its plunging.  Kane gasped, grabbing the back of Donny's head, pressing his face hard into his crotch.  Donny looked up as best he could and saw Kane's head thrown back.  Nice jawline.

     The head righted itself.  "You," he barked at Nick.  "Back off.  You," he gripped Donny's head harder, "get ready to suck."

     Holding his cock around the base and squeezing so the whole thing bulged and the veins popped, Kane pushed his hard rod roughly into Donny's obediently open mouth.  He thrust it in and out fast and grunted, "Oh God!" as Donny choked and coughed.  Then he turned back to Nick, shoving the member into his waiting face.  Nick sucked greedily as Donny coughed.

     When he'd recovered some, Kane asked Donny through his panting, "You ready for more, pussyboy?"

     It was the insult that did it. 

     "Fuck yeah!" and Donny was up next to Nick like a puppy at mama's tit as the big man alternated, switching between their waiting mouths.  Donny still choked now and then, unlike Nick, who got handed the ball a little more often. 

     Then Kane took his prong away. 

     "Kiss him," he ordered. 

     Becoming truly abandoned now, Nick and Donny fell on each other, sucking wildly at each other's faces, spittle flying, hard cocks crossed and bumping.  Donny's erection gulped more than once as he felt Nick's hard, lightly furry triceps.  An incredible rush rampaged throughout Donny’s innards.  He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

     Their mouths were glued together when Kane shoved his huge dick in between them, seizing their heads in his hands and fucking between their lips.  By that time, Donny found it difficult to stop touching Nick, whose body felt magnetic somehow and made Donny feel just great.  When Kane put his veiny hard-on, now curved distinctly upwards and needing to be pushed down, back into Nick's eager maw, Donny ran his hands down the surface of Nick's body, massaging, touching, exploring.  Nick writhed under his touch, stuck his ass out and wagged it when Donny placed a palm there.  It was a real nice ass, practically talked to him, but just in case he was butt-deaf, Kane advised him as he groped the cheeks and crack.

     "I think he wants you to fuck him." 

     Donny ran a finger up, investigating Nick's hole.  He slid right in.  The outside was dry, but the inside had been lubricated.  Nick helped by pushing himself open around Donny's finger, moaning around Kane's girth.  Donny's erection had gone dark red by now and was giving off a palpable warmth, not to mention leaking copiously onto the floor.  He moved around behind Nick, who obligingly raised his butt a few inches for better access, and, taking a breath, placed his swollen purple dickhead at the lips of Nick's ass.  Nick reached back with both hands and pulled his pretty globes out of the way.  Donny, recognizing the starting gun, pushed quickly inside. 

     "Uh, fuck!" moaned Nick, momentarily letting his mouth fall out of dick-range as he was cranked open.  Two seconds later, though, he was taking it in both ends efficiently again, humming along with his breath as he jackhammered back and forth between the dark giant and the little blond stud.  All three of them were groaning together now, making a hell of a racket. 

     Kane was the first to go off.  He pulled out of Nick's mouth, screaming in pleasure and shooting his thick load down Nick's sweaty back and onto Donny's upturned, fascinated face.  Donny felt his dick expand as he hammered away at Nick.  Some of the come slid onto the top of his mouth and he licked it away, feeling his rush intensify.  Then, still fucking, he leaned forward, licking up some of the load from Nick's shoulder. 

     He found he liked the position, closer to the floor.  With his hips extended low, he could reach under and wrap his fingers around Nick's bouncing erection.  It was slick with precome, and Nick whined like an upset baby when he touched it.  Squeezing a little bit meant Nick could fuck his fingers while fucking himself on Donny's cock.  Nick squealed like a stuck pig, a glossolalia that ended with convulsions, cries and Donny's sperm-coated fingers, gripping Nick's hips roughly as he pumped himself to a howling orgasm inside him.  He doesn't know about the other two, but Donny saw stars.

     They hung out for a few more hours after that.  They were very horny guys, and Donny was happy to oblige.  He knew he'd never see them again.  It always seemed to work that way.  He was lucky to get it at all.

     There was just one awkward moment, when Kane decided he wanted to fuck Donny.

     "Come on," Kane said commandingly, "You'll love it..."  He had both hands clamped around Donny's hard buttcheeks, trying to get at his clenched hole.  It wasn’t gonna work.  Donny knows he doesn't like being penetrated.  Just don't ask, okay?  It fucking hurts.  He can't imagine any real man sitting still and taking it unless he had to.

     Except that guy in the Men's room at the bar didn't mind, did he?  Nick seemed to love it, too.  And Nick was clearly a man.

     "What about you, dude?" Donny spat defiantly to Kane, his one moment of rebellion the entire afternoon.  "I ain't seen your punk-ass take a cock yet, either!"

     Kane looked surprised for an instant, then he grinned wide and shook his handsome head.  "Alright, alright, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but," he winked at Donny, "you're missing out, mate."

     Fuck that!  Donny wasn’t backing down, no matter how gorgeous Kane was.  "So why don't you show me what I'm missing and bend over, big guy?"

     Momentarily forgotten, lying on the bed, a naked Nick pointed out, "When you guys get done arguing, I'm still waiting for someone to stick it in me."

     They compromised by taking turns on his ass until Kane and Nick had to leave for dinner.

     True to form, Donny never saw them again.  He regretted nothing, though.  What was going through his mind was how to hold onto the wonderful, expansive, confident feeling he swam through until it wore off a day or two later. 

     Once that happened, he found himself stuck back in his usual mood: Surly, paranoid, needing a drink to dull the pain.

     Looking for revenge.

Fast forward.

     A little bit further.

     Back to the bar.

     The bouncer sees him an instant before Donny's on him.  Lightning fast, he ducks low under Donny's flailing fists, grabs him around the waist, and wrestles the smaller man backwards into a storeroom.  One huge arm shoots out to slam the door shut, and Donny hasn't even taken a breath before he finds himself pressed helplessly back against the wall.

     Then the big man's mouth covers his in the dark, and Donny's tongue pushes through into his mouth, and they're clinging to each other desperately, fingers tangling through their blond hair, grinding their crotches together, moaning softly.  "Missed you," Donny tells him, but the place is so noisy right now he can't even hear himself.

     It's a lot like the first time, but the bouncer doesn't have to feel Donny's hard-on to figure out he's horny.  Three weeks ago, he'd had to forcibly keep a ferocious, struggling Donny pinned against the wall, so he could get the thickening cock out of Donny's pants, fingering it gently.  Donny was murderously pissed off until he noticed the man wasn't trying to humiliate him and for that matter it felt pretty good.  They'd gotten along fine after that, with the hulking dude getting on his knees and sucking Donny to a mind-shattering climax.  He went home early that night, quietly.

     At a loss as to how to achieve the same result again, Donny came back the next night and pulled the same act on the same bouncer.  They quickly ended up in the same storeroom, but this time the ox let Donny fuck him, which shattered his mind all over again.

     He walked out pleasantly shell-shocked after that.  Oddly, he didn't think about it much over the next few days, but the following Friday night, he was back in Trask's, throwing another friendly punch at his favorite bouncer, and every weekend night since.  He's never been laid this often in his life.  The nightly encounter only lasts about 20 minutes or so, but Donny feels gorgeously drained afterward, every time.  He hasn't been thrown out or arrested in weeks.  He still works himself up into an anger fit, out of habit mostly, but he channels it all into the sex.  The bouncer doesn't complain or balk, no matter how hard he gets pounded.  No one can hear shit over the sound system, so Donny feels comfortable bellowing his lust as he hammers away at the big guy's incredible fuckhole, the pleasurably determined look on both their faces like that of a pair of demons who've discovered that someone’s carelessly left Heaven's back door open.

     They're at it right now, fucking hard and sweaty.  The big guy's lying back across some debris with his mammoth dick reclining rigid over his abs, one huge leg draped over Donny's shoulder while Donny plunges inside repeatedly.  Every once in a while, the bouncer sits up on an elbow, grabs Donny by his sweating hair and drags his head in to kiss him while Donny holds on to the other man’s erection for dear life, still pumping away.

     He's thinking he might have to come soon, with absolutely no choice in the matter, the big guy’s driving him so crazy, when the door suddenly opens behind him.  Colored lights and deafening noise spill in, ruining the atmosphere.  Donny turns in shock as the door slams and the light, which they haven't turned on once, blazes traumatizingly across the tiny, cluttered space.  There's a tall man with short, dark hair and a skintight black SECURITY t-shirt stretched over his impressive build, scowling at them.

     "Jesus, Zark," the newcomer moans in a deep voice, "you think you could at least lock the door behind ya!"

     "Aw, sheeit!  Lock it, will ya, Billy?" Zark, the bouncer requests.  Billy does.

     "Kill that light, too," growls Donny.

     "Hey, fuck you, boy," Billy leans down into Donny's face, threatening.  Donny stares right back, bottom lip thrust forward, feeling fury building inside.  He ain't backing down.  He'll fuck this motherfucker up.

     Feeling like he's carefully defusing a time bomb, and not for the first time, Zark plants a big palm on Donny's sweating chest, stroking down his flexed washboard to just above his hip, while shouting at him, "You're losing your hard-on, stud?" 

     Instantly, he has Donny's full attention as the smaller man recalls what he showed up for and resumes pounding away at his fuckhole.  Zark, getting what he wants, bears down for more friction. 

     Eventually, Donny notices that the dark man has moved up to the other end of the makeshift table.  He's removed his shirt, revealing a beautiful coat of dark hair that runs in a wide swath down his well-defined chest to taper to a trail over his abdomen, and he's getting his thick cock out of his jeans.  Turning Zark's head to the side, he pushes his dick into the huge man's mouth, fucks in and out, fingers coiling into Zark’s short blond hair.  One of Zark’s huge arms snakes its way around Billy’s hips, pulling him in even closer.

     All three of them are groaning loud now under the bare bulb in the ceiling.  Donny, seized by something he doesn’t fathom, leans into his fuck, reaching a trembling hand out to stroke Billy's dark pelt.  He still doesn't like the guy, but, damn, he looks good!  The other man looks over at him at the contact, decides to allow it.

     Then Zark's big dick is shooting his milky load back all over his smooth, massive torso.  He didn't even touch it.  Donny enjoys looking at it so much he comes himself, gasping as he shoots his stuff into Zark's warm, clutching hold. 

     Billy lasts a minute or so longer, growling and barking as he climaxes with both hands clamped around the back of Zark's manically puffing blond head.  After a while he opens his eyes again and tells Donny.  "Now you can turn off the lights, Red."  Donny reaches back to do so.  The three of them huddle in the noisy dark, letting their eyes adjust again. 

     Billy backs off in the gloom to retrieve his shirt.  He's already put his dick away.  "I don't know how you do it, man," he tells Zark.  "You're gonna get both of us fired some day.  How'd you end up with Red here, anyway?"

     "Why do you keep calling me Red?" asks Donny, still pugnacious.

     "It's security's nickname for you ever since you started causing trouble, son," Billy offers.

     "That don't make no sense," Donny thinks they might be making fun of him.  Feels his rage flame start to ignite, flickering to life inside.

     "Yeah, it does," Zark interjects.  "You should see your face when you're ready to fight, bud.  Or fuck.  C'mere."  He seals Donny's mouth with his, effectively quenching the fire.  Donny luxuriates, wrestling under the huge man's rough tongue, floating for a few seconds.

     Zark withdraws.  "You're a real good kisser," he says in his urbanized Arkansas slur, "but what the hell is your name anyway?"

     "Donny." 

     "Zark," Zark offers.

     "Yeah, I figured that out when he showed up," Donny jerks a shoulder at Billy, who's standing by the door, waiting for them to get their clothes on.  Well, he won't have to wait long for Donny.  Zark's the one who tosses his clothes all over the place.  All Donny has to do is pull his pants back up from around his ankles and pull his shirt back over from behind his neck.  "What kind of name is Zark?" he suddenly thinks to ask.

     "You're not the only one with a nickname, buddy," Zark tells him as he hunts for his lost shirt.  He finds it, tries to brush the dust bunnies off, with middling effect.  "Short for Ozark, where I grew up."

     "And by the way," Billy barks, "I don't care if Zark was laid out like a five-dollar hooker a few minutes ago, this bar ain't no fuckin' whorehouse, so don't start making a habit of this."

     "Too late," Zark tells him.

     Billy freezes.  "How long have the two of you been doing this?"

     "Weeks," Zark sheepishly admits. 

     "Here?!?" Billy demands, incredulous.

     "It's been keepin' him out of trouble."  Zark shrugs.  It's obvious he's developing a mean crush on the cute, little broken-nosed stud.

     "That makes sense," Billy allows after a pause.  "He can't drink himself into a murderous rage if he wears himself out in your revolving door."

     "That's unkind, Billy," drawls Zark, smirking.

     "Aw, you know I love your revolving door, big guy.  What'd I do without it?"

     It won't be too long before Billy wants another spin himself, and he knows it.  But another possible way to keep Donny off the sauce has just occurred to him.

     "Y'know, Steve's quitting at the end of the month," he mentions to the other bouncer.  "We need another guy on the team here."

     Abruptly, he turns to Donny.

     "Want a job, Red?"

     Donny’s thinking about it.