Fabio and Chance

I’m walking down East 81st Street in NYC with Chance. We’re looking for his car.

“You found a spot on the street?” I ask.

“I always do. I’m lucky that way.”

It’s another surprise from this magnificent statue of a man. He’s 6’4, blond and looks like a CGI version of a superhero. His body isn’t on a human scale.  We just finished a threesome where he took a giant mutant cucumber up his gorgeous ass. We got paid for it. We’re whores. I’m an experienced escort and he’s a newbie.  I’m Fabio, 6’2 195, brown hair, blue eyes, moderately hairy and well built. The Stable, the agency I work for will tell you I’m packing 8 inches but it’s more like 6 and change. They say I’m 25. My driver’s license says I’m 32.

We stop in the middle of the block between First and Second Avenues.

“Here it is,” he says. It’s an old Buick, maybe a 2000, mud brown with a lot of dings on it, an ugly duckling of a car that you barely notice, which is why it’s still alive. “It belongs to my Dad. I only use it when I drive into the city. My car is a new Mazda RX 7.”

Ah, ‘the city.’ “Where you from?”

“Clifton, New Jersey.” He opens the passenger door for me like a gentleman and I slide onto the leather seat. The interior is clean and cream-colored and it smells good.

He slides behind the wheel and he smells good too. He just took a shower at the client’s penthouse and used some of his pricey, imported shower gel.

I have hundred questions for him. In the elevator on the way down he told me his real name is Chester.

“Was that your first job?” I ask.

“No. My second. The first one was a little guy, this waste management supervisor from Pennsylvania. When he opened the door he looked at me like I was Frankenstein and when I took my clothes off, he started to cry and asked me to leave. It made me feel bad. Kevin said it happens sometimes.

“Yep. So, tell me about the body. It’s fucking incredible.”

“Well, I was a fat kid with asthma and glasses. My nickname was Uncle Fester. I was tortured in gym class and beat up on the street,” he says and pulls his blond hair out of his eyes. His bangs conceal a furrowed brow and his green eyes are a little tired.

“How old are you?” I hate that question when I get it but I want to know.

“Twenty three,” he says.

I think it’s more like 33 but hey, he’s a sexy man who’s giving me a ride in his daddy’s car.

“So, the body. What’s the story? I work out too but man, your crate is insane.”

“When I was 15, I fell down the stairs at school and broke my leg and my right arm. I was laid up at home, bored out of my mind and flipping channels when I found this Tony Horton Beach Body infomercial. I ordered the DVDs and a little at a time, I wound up with, you know,… this.” He looks down at all of it, like he doesn’t know where it came from.

I live in the West Village and it’s a long ride through heavy traffic to my place. Chance/Chester doesn’t mind.

“I have nothing better to do and I like talking to you. I don’t talk that much,” he says. His sweet, earnest voice is very intent on trying to explain himself to me.

I begin to understand the magnificently constructed man next to me. Chubby Chester is still in there peeking out from all that muscle. He created Chance out of exercise videos, muscle magazines and gay porn and strangers approach the gorgeous turrets and buttresses with caution. The body got him an exotic dancer gig in Jersey and the look but don't touch  thing worked fine for him in the cage.  Kevin from The Stable spotted him, hired him and I met him on his second assignment. There are no lovers or even hot tricks in his story. People are afraid to storm the castle and Chester is afraid to leave it. His only action has been with toys and Mr. Cucumber. He wants to connect with somebody from the animal kingdom for a change. He wants to learn. I want to teach.

He finds a parking space on the street on my block. Now, that’s talent.

We’re in my apartment.

“Nice,” he says. It’s not but it works for me.

“You want tea or something” I ask before I settle on the couch next to him.

“I want a real live dick inside me,” Chance says. “I want your big dick.”

I’ve already been a good influence on him.

“Ever suck a cock before?”

“Not a real one. I want yours to be the first one.”

I don’t know if any of this is true, but hey, I’m a hustler too. My job is to read men, figure out what turns them on and then give it to them.

“Good boy,” I say and stand in front of him. I take off my shirt and toss it on the floor. My crotch is in his face. “You want my dick? Come and get it”

He unbuckles my belt and starts to toss it on the couch. I take it from him. It might come in handy.

My cock is growing down my leg. Chance starts to unbutton my jeans.

“No. They stay on for now. Find the dick from outside. Follow the bulge with your mouth. Show me how much you want it, boy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get your ass off the couch and get down on your knees.”

He does. He puts his mouth at the top button of my jeans and starts to slide down.

“Slower,” I say.

He buries his nose where the base of my cock lurks beneath the denim.

“Yeah, get a good whiff of that Tide and testosterone. You like it?”

He nods.

“Grunt for me, baby. I want to hear you.”

He does. Hmm, hmm, hmm.

“Good boy.”

He slowly follows my cock’s outline down to the right where the head bulges and swells. I tap his cheek, he grunts and looks up. I cock my thumb north. Go up to the top again. He puts his mouth on my swollen cock head and wets it through the jeans and then starts moving up again.  I tap his head and he grunts for me: hmm, hmm, hmm.  He takes the cock route three, four, six, seven times and reaches for the top button, looking up for my approval. I nod.  He undoes it, lowers my jeans a little and buries his perfect snout in my pubic hair, where the bush meets the bone. Nice.

The jeans slide down some more and two more buttons get undone. His lips are on the base of my meat, no Tide there, just prime beef. His hands squeeze my cock head through the denim and it puffs up to meet the touch. Hmm, hmm, hmm. Now it hurts to be so hard and constrained. He undoes two more buttons and my cock is sprung, clipping him on the nose in its upward spring. He grabs it and tries to put it in his mouth. I tap his head and he stops.

I put the belt around his neck and buckle it enough to guide him without choking him. I tug his head down and my cock pulses on the bridge of his nose. I like the way that looks and feels so we stay like that for a while.  Then another tug and he goes lower. My balls are resting on his nose.

“Kiss them, boy. Show them some love.” He kisses them like Aunt Minnie kisses her Siamese. A tug. “Tongue.”

He tentatively runs his quivering tongue under my nut sack and inhales. I tug and he grunts. He goes in deeper: this new taste sensation has its own manly aroma and it pulls him in. Good boy. His tongue loosens up and starts working my full nuts, taking them one by one in his mouth, bathing them underneath and darting between my legs for more pungent dude funk. I didn’t take a shower after our previous session so he’s getting all this sweat and dried spit and jizz straight, no chaser.  He grunts on cue now: hmm, hmm, hmm.

I give a tug up and on the ascent he runs his tongue the length of my shaft. Now the throbbing head is right at his lips.

“Open your mouth.”

He does.

“Just take the head in. For now.”

His mouth opens wide and comes down and around the big head, all warm and wet. He starts to move his head. I tug at the belt.

“Relax and get used to that big dick in your mouth, you tramp.”

He flinches a little. I can’t tell if he likes or doesn’t like tramp. Wait. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. He’s my bitch right now.

“Tongue.” He gives me some tongue.

“You are such a good little tramp.” I run my fingers through his blond hair. Then I tug at the belt.

He whimpers.

He starts to suck on my cock. I feel teeth. I yank the belt and tap his head.

“No teeth, Chester”

He flinches.

“Yeah. When you fuck up you’re gonna be Chester. So don’t fuck up, Chester. This cock in your mouth right now is the center of your universe. With this cock in your mouth you are a happy little piggy.” I tug. He grunts.

“Your job is to slowly suck the juice out of this big dick and drink it down like it’s a protein shake.”

My cock is inching into his mouth and he’s huffing and puffing all around it. My bitch boy is working hard. He wants to do a good job. He is doing a good job. I push a little further in and he gags. Baby steps. We get back in rhythm. My jeans slip down to my ankles.

“You are such a good boy. You’re my little bitch boy.”

I can feel him smile through his mouth stuffed with cock. His breathing becomes shallow, he’s turned on. He pulls down his shorts his pink boner pops up. He starts to pump it.

I yank at the belt.

“No. No hands. You have no dick, bitch boy. This cock in your mouth is the only cock in the world right now, Chester.”

He nods.

“You want to use your hands? Hold on to my balls and work them, tramp.”

He kneads my swollen balls in his big hands and my tool pushes deeper into his mouth. No teeth, no gag. He is such a good boy.

“Good boy!” I squirt a little into his mouth and he grunts. Good

I’m getting close. I want to pump my full steaming load down his throat. He’s earned it but is he ready for it?

“I’m close, boy. You want to drink my load?”

He nods and grunts

I’m so deep in his mouth that I don’t have to shake, rattle or roll. I put my arms behind my head, spread my legs and let him do his job. The hot juice rumbles in my balls and my legs shake. The first big spurt hits the back on his throat and he gasps and gulps. My teeth rattle. I shot a load a few hours ago but this stud and this scene makes me hot, more free juice comes spurting out of my thick, money-making tool.  My eyes roll back in my head.

Chance gulps it all down hungrily with only one little cough. My cock is drained but we don’t move. This feels good.

I lean forward and kiss his hard working mouth. I taste my manly protein shake on his lips and tongue.  Health food stores should stock this stuff.

I unbuckle the belt and slip it off him. I  kick off my jeans and plop my naked ass on the couch next to him. I look at his wide eyes and I start to laugh. Not at him. I always laugh after a hot time. I’m happy. The Laughing Whore, that’s me! I slip off Chance’s jacket and pull off his shorts. I sit back and start laughing again and he laughs too. Two naked guys on a couch, laughing. 

I put most of my arm around his massive shoulder.

“Good job, baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did I do good?”

“Yep.”

He puts his platinum blond head on my shoulder. He’s earned that. We sit side by side on the couch. I’m thinking: I’m thirsty and hungry and I need a shower.

We both fall asleep sitting on the couch. His snoring wakes me up. His head is back and he’s really buzzing and there’s drool on my shoulder. I don’t care. He looks younger asleep and he’s a sweet soul in a beautiful body. I like this Chance/Chester guy. My arm is dead under the weight of his big head and as I try to extract it, he wakes up. We’ve been asleep for almost an hour. We both have morning wood in the early evening. I like the way he smells, the earthy way we smell together. I realize that I want to fuck this guy.

“I want to fuck you,” I say right after that realization.

“I want your big dick in my ass,” Chance says.

We gotta get off this couch so I pull him up and hold his hand as I walk him over to the other side of the small room.

I push Chance onto a cushioned wicker chair near the fake fireplace and prop his legs up over the arms. He looks sheepish as I stand back and watch him. I’m really looking at him and he’s not used to that. I like what I see and my cock is standing straight up. His pink balls flop onto the seat and his pretty cock stirs, it’s up, then down, it’s confused by my intense gaze. Good.

I kneel down before him and my cock is poised at his hot hole. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It’s a tight, beginners’ kiss. I keep my mouth on his and pry his lips wider with my tongue. I slowly root around inside his fresh mouth, nice even teeth, and his tongue starts to meet mine and now our upper hemispheres are connected.

Down south, my swollen cock head has breached his perimeter as his amazing ass muscles massage it. Caught in his steamy velvet grip my meat is pulled deeper and deeper inside him.  We are locked together and stay that way. This feels good. Our mouths are locked together too and his eyes are bright and wide open.Hmm, hmm, hmm, he puffs into my mouth. I know, baby. It’s good for me too. I hear a siren on Seventh Avenue. A neighbor is clumping up the stairs. I can’t hear anything. His interior gently kneads my swollen dong, squeezing incremental pre jizz out of it. We don’t talk. We don’t think. He sighs, so do I. Yes, baby, I know. I feel a tightening deep inside him and his balls constrict and rise and churn, the cream bubbling inside them.

I hold his pretty stiff cock against my stomach and pump his ass with my meat two, three, four times. His balls rumble and send the jizz to his cock. His manhole flutters and a squirt of cream shoots out of him and hits my chin, more squirts land on my chest and the jizz dribbles down to where we’re connected.  Hmm, hmm, hmm. I pump a load deep inside him, so intense I can almost hear its splats against his insides.

Exhausted and satisfied we stay sealed in this position for a long time. The street lights are on and they are the only source of light in the apartment. I’m happy.

Chance has to go. His dad needs the car back and rush hour is over so the drive home should be painless.

I did it. I captured the castle. Fabio and Chance probably won’t amount to anything romantic but I like him and he will be a good fuck bud.  I made him a better cocksucker, a better fuck and a better escort.

The next time he has to choose between animal and vegetable, I’m pretty sure which one he’ll choose.

THE END