Tight Holes and Big Poles

David is tall and slender, with a halo of blond curls and startled brown eyes.  We are in The Lookout Lounge of the Mountain View Country Club where I am the bartender and David is one of the servers. The Lounge is full this summer night at nine o'clock.  The juicy young staff circulates among the elderly patrons taking drink orders and relaying them to me.   Harsh whiskey and cigar laughs pierce the smoke and civilized murmuring.

Two bourbon old fashioneds," David says, his dewy brown searchlights scanning my face.

 He is nineteen and I am thirty-two.  He is just one of a dozen boys and girls on the staff who haunt my bar, looking for someplace to park their unfocused energy and pour out their adorable tales of woe.  To them, I represent the glamorous adult world where all choices have been made and lived with.  To some, I am the cool, patient older brother, to others, the suave older man who can teach them a thing or two.  David seems to have the worst case of puppy love, so intense, for the moment, that he can't hide it from the others.  My life is no pleasure cruise, I try to tell them, but they still come at me with their shining faces.  They walk away and I watch their supple bodies ripple with energy in their black, polyester uniforms.

 David haunts my every step tonight.  When I go to the men's room, he follows, washing his hands and talking to me as I stand at the urinal.  He continues his soft lament which issues from peach fuzz lips, like a vaporizer's gentle puffs of steam.  Syracuse is rough, his parents' expectations high, his girlfriend, Courtney, won't sleep with him.  My listening echoes inside his cavernous want.  I nod my head and shake off my stirring, hefty cock.  His dark eyes are locked onto mine, searching for approval, definition, the dark charge of lust.  I've got my cock in my hand, and I could just step away from the porcelain and feed it to him.   "Here, kid.  This is what you really want."

I could press him up against the white tile, tear off his pants, ram my cock between his quivering, creamy haunches, and rock him for an hour or so.  Listen to his whimpers as his eyes roll back into his head and his hot little hole takes the length of my cock.  I could grab his curls and turn his face to mine and suck the ether from his soft lips.

Instead, I zip up and follow his pretty ass back to the lounge.  He is undeniably lovely, but I've had my share of young men and have sworn off them.  Not for me the long nights of playing Daddy nursemaid to boys who insist on telling why they don't want what they seem to want so much.  The hurried departures in cars that mom needs for work in the morning, the barefoot tiptoe through the back door to their rooms.  Pointless calls in the middle of the night when they're out with friends, just to know you're still there and hopefully waiting for them.  Surprise visits when their horns are up and no visits when they’re supposed to show.  The juicy mouths that don't know where to begin or end, the silken, stiff, abashed young cocks you want to slice off and sauté in sweet butter when you're done with them, and the butts so tight, they hurt to enter, hurt to leave.  No.

Two Manhattans and a Scotch on the rocks," David puffs at me.  "It sucks using my mother's car. I wish I had my own wheels so I could go out after work and blow off some steam."

"Where would you go?" I ask, handing him the Scotch rocks.

"I don't know.  Where do you go?"

"Oh, places.  I don't think you're ready for them."

"Try me."

Ooh, would I.  He's going to be an accountant, married to his unresponsive girlfriend.  His flirtation with me is a flirtation with his own destiny.  Does he dare step off the path assigned him and risk winding up like me?  It may look tempting when he feels the leash tug at his slender throat, but that leash has a pot of gold at the end of it. For the moment, for this summer, we are thrown together in this working vacation from his real life.  In September he'll go back to school, and I'll still be here or work someplace else.  I hand him his drinks and there is no time to tell him of the hazards of too many left turns off the path.

 At midnight, the last members leave the lounge and I make a round of drinks for he staff as we clean up.  I knock back a few belts of whiskey to take the edge off.

Some of the kids invite me to a rock club with them and I decline.  David is the last to leave, moping about not being able to go anywhere.  I run my hand through his curls and he brightens.  "Cheer up," I say.  "It's only temporary.  You will have everything you want."

We walk to our cars, and he gives me a hug in the parking lot.  The urgency of it knocks the breath out of me.

I drive away from the country club revved up by coffee and whiskey, drunk and alert and looking for action.  Like junk food's surge of cheap energy, I'm caught up in a junk love rush, fueled by David's sugary beauty and need.

 It's after one when I get to The Male Box.  I walk in like a man with a mission.  No small talk.  I just want to fuck with somebody.  I scope out the bar, look out on the dance floor and see a couple of likely prospects.

 "Is it still raining?" asks a voice at my side.  He is blond and bleary eyed, in his mid-thirties with a full, flushed face.

"No.  It didn't rain at all today."

"Right.  That was yesterday."

I shake my head and ignore him.  He looks a little puffy and besides, he's drunk and stupid.

"What are you drinking?"  It's him again.

"It's okay.  I got it," I say.

"I know you got it.  I can see that.  What are you drinking?  If you don't mind, I'd like to know."

"Whiskey."

"I'll have another one.  And whiskey for my snooty friend here," he says to the bartender.

I look at him, surprised by the heat in his bleary, blue eyes.  He stands, leans on the bar, and leans into me.  His beefy chest, covered in blond fur, spills out of his starched, white shirt.  His jeans are worn and tight, packed in all the right places.  A clean breeze blows off him, good, honest soap with no sweet or funky undertones.  A couple of hours ago he must have looked very nice, a fleeting thought he immediately reads.  He has a man's edge, drinking off something major to get to this ballsy, nerveless state.

 "I've been waiting for you all night," he says.  His full face is pleasant, and I like the bad boy twinkle he manages.  He must have been the cutest boy in seventh grade.

"Oh?

"You just got here, so you can shop if you want to shop. But I know how to treat a guy like you, and I think you know that."

I put my finger to my lips, and he is quiet.  I have my glass of whiskey, knock back one more quick one and take him back to my place.

 A fat full moon hangs outside my window and floods the apartment with light.  Just inside the door, his mouth is on mine, his hands on my face pulling me into his deep, wet kiss.   It's a good kiss and I know things are going to be interesting, at least.  We strip in seconds and wind up stretched out on the hardwood floor, head to cock, feeding each other our well-matched dongs.  His is thick and veiny, a cock with a history.  His fragrant blond pubes graze my nose, and his tight, pink balls make a perfect mouthful.  He slurps happily on my fat tool, taking the big head down his throat.

He rolls onto his back and stretches his golden body across the floor.  I am  pleasantly surprised by how taut and well-made he is.  I stand, straddled over him, take a breath.  My fat dick points, glistening, to the moon.  We smile at each other, and he runs his hands up my legs.  He pulls my full, furry ass down onto his face.  He gnaws at my hot hole while my balls crunch up on his chin and my cock stretches along his hairy chest.  I lean over and take all of his fat cock in my mouth, right up to the tense, pink nuts.  I dip my dong down his throat and hoist up his haunches to get a peek at his rosy crack.

His round, muscled ass feels like marble in my grip and glows in the moonlight.  I part his beefy thighs and bury my face within his spread cheeks, lapping at his unpenetrated rosebud hole.  I hear him gasp at this new sensation, feel the juices regroup in the downy stretch to his clenched balls.  His mouth goes dry on my cock, and I like this power over him.  I climb off his face, spin him around the floor and pin his strong thighs in my grip.  I spread his legs and plunge my face into his ass, making a meal out of it.  I slap his butt and make him grunt.  I drink in the perfume of man meat and soap as my tongue works its way into his steaming center.  I take a breath and look at him spread out before me; his eyes are closed, and his tongue is lolling around his lower lip.  My hunger for this nameless hunk surprises me.  I feel his butt hole tighten around my tongue lashing.  He's ready to pop a sizzling load.  I want to get inside this tight, hot man.  I lower his ass down to my stiff cock and rub my cock's juicy, fat head along his puckered, gasping hole.

No!" he says through the steamy moonlight, and I know he means it.  My lips meet the head of his swollen cock, knowing he will squirt any second.  He twists around and pulls my cock into his mouth and on contact I pump a steaming load down his throat. He gulps it down, sucking the juice out of me.  I shake with pleasure as I swallow the length of his rock-hard tool and feel the first bursts of sweet cream shoot out of him. I gulp down each delicious, pent-up spurt like a man who hasn't eaten in days.

 In the shower, he is all pink and gold in my grip.  He is a beautifully made man with big, articulate hands that knowingly roam my body.  His face is perky and relieved now and his blue eyes are bright, twinkling with mischief.  The warm water slides off our big bodies, trickles into our locked-together lips.  Who is he?  His hunger is that of someone who has worked out exactly what he would do once he got his hand on another man, without having much chance to do it.  He's definitely not a piece of trade from the bar circuit, this or any other.  This kind of meat and muscle union doesn't happen very often and I'm not going to question it.  I'm going to ride out every sultry second until we part.

We step out of the shower with hard ons. He dries me off tenderly, then sinks to the floor and takes my cock in his mouth.

"Who the fuck are you?" I say, before I can stop myself.

He looks up at me with those blue twinklers.  “I’m your coach, Johnny.  And if you tell anybody about this, I’ll have you thrown out of school.”

“Oh.”  I wanted to laugh but didn’t.

“Do you understand me?”  This new tone in his voice makes my cock jump.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Show me your room, Johnny.”

I lead him to my unmade bed.

“Your room’s a mess, Johnny.  I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”  His voice is a gruff, thrilling whisper.  

“You’re naked, Johnny,” he growls, “That’s against regulations.  Go get your jock strap.”

I pull it out of the dresser drawer and slip it on.

“You’re a pretty boy, Johnny.  That’s going to get you into trouble.  See what you do to me, Johnny?”  He stands by the bed, stroking his big cock.  “Get your ass over here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 He pushes me down onto the bed and hoists up my butt.

“It’s lesson time, Johnny.  You have to learn.”  He whacks me across the ass, and I yelp.  “Hurts, don’t it, son?”  He whacks me again.

“Yes, sir.”

He spits on his palms, spits on my ass, and administers, resounding, stinging whacks to my upturned ass.  My cock is hard and pokes out of the jock strap.

His mouth is in my ear. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  See all the trouble you can get into with this pretty ass of yours?”

“Yes, Sir.”

 He spreads my butt cheeks apart and spits on my hot puckerhole.  His hands run up my cheeks, up my back. He grabs my shoulders and pulls me toward his thick punisher, rubbing its fat head around my hot hole.  He grabs my shoulders again and plunges me onto his cock, finding the center in one thrust.  I feel the delicious tight squeak of skin on skin and the heat of him deep inside me.  He pumps my ass with his hot piston.

“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  You’re so bad.”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Yes, yes, yes, Sir.”

He grabs my cock and pumps it too, while his other hand slaps my butt.  My body starts to quiver, and I yelp with pain and pleasure.  The juice spurts out of me in hot licks as my butt muscles squeeze around his fat tool.   I feel him pump me full of his hot syrup.

We fall across the bed and laugh.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he says.

“You did, Coach, you did.  Are you a coach?”

“Nah, I sell computers at Cyber World in the mall.  The coach thing is just something I always wanted to do with a guy.”  He looks at his watch.  “Oh, shit, it’s late!”

“Back to the wife and kids?”

“How did you know?”

“A hunch.”

He sits on the edge of the bed.  “The brood is down at the beach for a week.  I figure this is my only chance to see the sights.”

At the door he says, “Can I come back sometime?”

“Anytime.   But my name isn’t Johnny.”      

It rained hard all the next day.  When I got to the Country Club at four, I learned the sewers had backed up, flooding the dining room and lounge.  We were told to go home and ran to our cars in the downpour.  I had just started the engine when David tapped at the window.

“Hey, can I come with you?” he asked.

“I’m just going home.”

“I’d like to visit for a while.”

I hesitated.  “You’re soaked.  Get to your car and follow me. My place isn’t far.”

His breath was hot and sweet on my neck as I opened my apartment door.  I waved a hand around my tiny Spartan lair.

“Lesson number one.  Stay in school.”         

“I like it,” he said.  “No frills.”

I turned and we were face to face.  “I’m going to pour us a couple of brandies.  We should get out of these wet clothes and get comfortable.”

I led him by the hand to the living/bedroom.  He stood there, giving me his big, brown eyes.

“Need help?”  I took off his vest, unbuttoned his shirt.  He had a boy’s chest, smooth and slender with tiny brown nipples.  My hand grazed them as I slid his shirt off and I felt the charge of that brief touch surge through him.  I went to the kitchenette and poured two snifters full and found him standing shirtless in the middle of the room, looking expectant and lost.

“You can take your pants off,” I said.  “I’m not going to bite you, I think.”

“What about you?”

“No problem.”  I set the brandies down and peeled off my clothes in second and stood next to him wearing only my crusty, bulging jock,  He stepped out of his pants, shoes, socks, folded his clothes neatly across a chair and stood in his briefs.  The outline of his long, thin cock poked against the cotton.  I handed him his brandy, our toes and baskets grazing each other’s.    “To us,” I said, “may we have everything we want.”  We clinked glasses.

“What do you want from me?” I said.

He puffed his baby breath at me. “I don’t know.”

I put my mouth on his and we breathed into each other.  I felt his body tremble and his cock jump in his briefs.  I stuck my tongue in his mouth and his soft lips parted.  I ran my hands down his smooth back and pulled him into me, our baskets grinding together.  His hands were on my face, feeling it, examining it, pulling it closer.  He stepped back and scanned my face in fear and amazement.

I let him lead.  He put his hands on my shoulders, then slid them down my beefy arms and held my hands.  He gazed at my crotch, my hard cock straining against the jock strap.  He shook his head like a dreamer awakening and laid his golden curls against my chest.  I slipped my hands into his briefs and cupped his downy butt cheeks and pressed him into me.  He looked up in surprise, clamped his dry mouth on mine.  His long, pale body contracted and shuddered; his legs wrapped around mine as his body arched.   He gasped and I felt wave after wave of hot jizz shoot out of him as I held his quivering ass.

Suddenly, he wouldn’t look at me.  “I have to go,” he said as he hurriedly gathered his clothes.

“Look at me!”   He did.

“You’re not going to run out of here feeling all bad about yourself.  Nothing bad has happened.  You did something you wanted to do, and it felt wonderful, didn’t it?”

He nodded.

“You wanted to be with me, so now you’re with me.  This is the only chance you’re going to get.   If you run out now, I will never talk or listen to you again.  We should enjoy this time we have together.  If this is just a phase you’re going through, then let’s make it a wonderful phase.  Something we can both remember with pleasure.  Now, go clean up and let’s hang out.”

He took a shower, and I stretched out naked on the bed, sipping my brandy.  My cock was hard as a rock, and I was so worked up over David I thought I was going to shoot my load any second.  I wanted him to experience this time with me before he scampered back to school and the girlfriend.  That way he could make an informed decision.  I heard his light footsteps approach.  He stood by the bed, wearing a towel with his cock standing straight up beneath it.  His startled brown eyes took in my cock and the sight of me laying before him. 

He took off the towel and I looked at his long, slender cock and his pink, hairless balls dangling beneath it.  He knelt on the bed and took my fat cock gingerly in his hand, stroking it.  I ran one hand through his curls, then down his lovely back.  I felt up the downy mounds of his ass and ran one finger across his tiny, clenched butthole.  He moaned as I gently fingered his hole and the velvety nether stretch to his dangling balls.  A pearl glistened at the head of his cock and his balls rose and tightened.

He leaned forward and laid feathery kisses across the length of my pulsing tool.  He spread his legs to accommodate the palms of my hand massaging the hot golden zone between his legs.  A languorous string of drool oozed out of his slender, throbbing shaft as he took my straining cock head in his mouth and delicately, thoughtfully tasted its juice.   I was ready to cum in his mouth.  But not yet.....I pulled his head away.

“But I want to,” he said.

“There’s more,” I said, pulling him toward my face.  We kissed a deep, juicy kiss as he spread himself over me.  I took his long legs and brought him up until he straddled my chest. His pretty cock pulsed in my face.  I took the length of it in my mouth and felt it throb in the back of my throat.  I held his now tight balls in one hand, while the other played around his clenched hole.  I felt the rumble in his balls and spurt of sweet cream eased down my throat.  I knew there was more.

I lifted his beautiful, tense ass onto my mouth as his cock ticked and drooled across my face, his full balls resting on my nose.  He worked his ass around and around on my hungry tongue, practically squeaking with delight.  I gnawed at his tenderized hole and worked my tongue into the steaming, musky center of him, the place I most wanted to be.

I licked rhythmically within his sweet asshole, drinking in the taste of him.  I ran my hands over every part of David, the golden curls, the fluttering eyelids, the sloping, freckled nose, his parted lips and dry tongue.  His slender chest and tiny, aroused nipples.  His flat stomach and little patch of wiry hair.

I parted the quivering mounds of his ass as I licked deeper inside him.  My hands ran down his thighs, his calves, the soft soles of his feet.  His cock pulsed and oozed its inexhaustible supply of cum into my hair.  When he put his hand on his cock, I took it off and his hands roamed across everywhere they could reach on my body.

He rotated his impaled ass around my long tongue.  He pulled at my cock.  I lifted him and his mouth met mine, amazed and hungry for the taste of my lips, the taste of himself on my lips.  His gasping hole grazed my tool, and the heat was intense.  My cock rubbed along his steaming crack and his butt trembled with anticipation.

“Is this what you want?”

He couldn’t get the word out but nodded his head.  My fat cockhead met his soft, moist hole and slowly, exquisitely entered his hot center.  We paused and let his ass accommodate my stiff, veiny tool, millimeter by millimeter.  He groaned as his virgin ass filled with my man meat, the pain and pleasure shooting across his beautiful face.  He got up on his haunches and brought his tight butt all the way down on my cock, rocking with excitement.

I took a deep breath and looked at him, his slim, pale form completely in my possession.  His brown eyes were on fire as his sphincter muscles contracted around my tool.  I ran my hand across his face, and he took my fingers and sucked them, one by one.

From deep inside him I felt the trembling juices and the first contractions as his cock swelled.  I watched the first spurt of cream shoot out of him and splat hot across my face.  I opened my mouth wide as spurt after steaming spurt arched through the moonlit air.  My tongue licked up every delicious drop.

I couldn’t hold out any longer.  I pulled his shaking, spurting body in time to grab my own raging tool and slap it across the small of his back.  I shot a load that hit him between his bony shoulder blades and trickled down his spine.  I pulled his cock to my mouth and drank the last drops of him.

He spread himself sleepily across the bed.  I washed him with a warm cloth and dried him as he grunted contentedly.  I lay beside him, and he curled his moist, long form against mine.  We fell asleep happily, with nothing to say, no past and no future.

When we woke, it was almost three in the morning.

“Oh no!  My Mom’s gonna kill me.  She needs the car for work in the morning.”

When he left, I drank some more brandy and looked at the fat moon outside my window.  My mother had her own car and was satisfied with a call every couple of weeks.  I didn’t have a wife to ask me how I spent my week alone.  There was just me, big and naked, looking out my window with the taste of David still on my lips.  And I was very, very glad.