When You're Young

It was hard not to stare.

I’d just come from behind the cherry counter with my set of keys when the last drops of autumn light faded from the quite downtown street. I was so in awe glaring out the window I almost missed the big sexy bald man with the thick thighs sitting below it, puffing on his cigar melting the evening away. He looked gallant in his business throws and polished wingtips, confidently seated in the soft brown leather chair like he owned the place. How could he not? He was the embodiment of magnificent masculinity. I tried not to get lost in his allure, his unapologetic potency. So I moved right by him without making eye contact on my way out the door.

Dammit! Why in god’s honest fuck didn’t I run my hand across his naked scalp? Why didn’t I just gently brush against the back of his chair? Then I could’ve gotten him to turn around–or did what he did, which was completely ignore me.

Oh! That’s right! I’m the world’s biggest pussy these days! Rather than make the bold move to go after what I really wanted like I used to, I determined it was best to stretch out on the bed of my hotel room and hash out these erotic chimeras on my trusty old laptop.

I’d been a long time since I wrote anything new. Long ago, I had this crazy dream of becoming a writer, re-imagining my life story in my old efficiency. Instead of pouring my heart out into the Great American novel, I leapt into the lap of the nearest sugar daddy and jumped through every hoop he told me to. I can’t complain. I enjoyed lifting my legs for the occasion, as my sponsor was both wise and generous mentoring me and paying for my schooling, which lead me into a career where I could take care of myself in the long run.

I was younger then, a couple of years after thirty. Old enough to know I couldn’t monkey branch onto the next man without having an active gym membership and results to show for it.

Years later, after holding onto the money I made without a benefactor, I was able to lend my best friend the money to open a cigar shop.

Why cigars when there’s an ad right across the street against big tobacco? I don’t know. I guess he thought if public outcry said no, he’d find a private select that welcomed it.

Just looking at Cigar Daddy sitting there looking good with his pronounced bulge made the venture all the worthwhile.

As I lingered in my terrycloth rob coming up with my next round of words to play out the story that could’ve been, I started to really think where did all my gusto go? What happened to the horny boy that would’ve readily put both holes on the table for some hard plugging? And if Cigar Daddy wasn’t a taker, indubitably I was going to find one before the end of the night.

I guess when you’re young, you’re unrepentantly unabashed. It’s ‘You’re you. I’m slightly promiscuous. Nice meeting you…and if there’s some spark of lust, surely, we’re fucking in a little bit.’ These days if not through some work-related function or pressed to connect through a friend of a friend then you’re pretty much limited to swiping through various options of takeout sex on your smartphone. Which is fine, but sometimes going out for the hunt is way more fun!

Do you know how I scored my first piece of ass? I taunted the neighborhood cocksucker. I told him if he wasn’t going to give it up there was an easy fudge packer up the street crushing purple hardons like purple cookies, and that if he wanted me to keep dropping by he’d have to deliver a little more than his usual sucky-suck. The cocksucker not only upped his head game to keep me coming back, but eventually he gave me what I wanted. I got a little greedy though and ran the same line with the slutbucket up the street for an old-fashion party line with me and my friend using his whorish competitor. First dick? I instigated a fight between a garbage man and the waterworks guy that frequented the food truck I worked, and, in the end, I gave them both a shot! These days there’s so much more to life than stepping over people just to get laid.

I should test those waters again; I chuckled in my head. Those antics were mild compared to the ones I would later engage in over the years.

I brushed the impulse off remembering that I was showered and ready for bed. It was just a matter of pulling back the covers and letting my head fall on the goose-feathered pillows.

After an endless stream of minutes passed of not being able to come up with anything more to write, I sat my computer down on the nightstand. I was about to climb into bed when I was moved to close the curtains from the impending dawn. I wasn’t ready to go to sleep. I wasn’t even tired, but there was nothing for me to do with my night other than stare at another screen–and I wasn’t entirely into that anymore. As I took in the view of the skyline, I kicked myself for not having a balcony room to enjoy a strong nightcap. Nevertheless, I had a magnificent vantage point just the same–much like the one I took on my first vacation in the big city–back when I was younger.

Monday night didn’t exactly scream ‘paint the town red.’ It was however what I was working with once I took the time to redress and spritz myself with a new application of eau de toilette. As I strolled down the cool streets of the downtown business district near my hotel, I was amazed at all the activity still going on around 11:30pm. Strangely, I felt slightly overwhelmed and tempted to head back up to my room.

No, I shook my head. I remember when this was just getting the night started.

Slowly, I found my rhythm in the crowd, pacing back and forth on the well-lit thoroughfare, looking where people were running off to restless to find my place. Since so many groups started off as mixed company and slowly shucking off the men, I soon became the strange boogieman following behind a group of women in the dark. And because I was never that kind of glitzy gay man, I came off more like Grim Reaper waiting for his next victim. 

Once I got a hang of where all the men were going, I carefully followed them. There weren’t any clubs to speak of, but there were plenty of bars to choose from, from the classic to the modern chic. Any other night, those alone would’ve been a treat, but tonight it sounded uneventfully average, more my regular speed. I didn’t get dressed up again for the same old same old, particularly as a guest in a new town. I wanted an adventure. Something I could write about or relive once I was alone in my room hankering to rub one out. I trailed some more. I’d learned there were also a lot of late-night eateries on the next street and middle-aged married men had an affinity for southern fried food with all the fixin’s. I thought I’d hit Texas gold chasing behind this flirty ginger into a liquor store. I swore he was playing hard to get, but he was doing nothing more than buying a gorgeous for him and his “date,” who turned out to be an escort.

My luck seemed to change when I started chatting it up with the coquettish cashier. Aside from being the standard big and tall, he wasn’t my usual cup of tea. But I knew from experience that sometimes the biggest freaks just had to be readily available. The more we connected the more I read he was a freak. That elusive man that knew he packed some very good dick and wasn’t afraid to use it. About an hour of him having me pant around him like a dog that needed to be lead, he let it be known that he was a saved stud as he started talking about his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Needless to say, I ran out of there and into the path of a panhandler who offered to blow me in exchange for a few buck. Although the offer was tempting, that was too extreme even for me. I wanted to be wild and free, try something different outside of the normal routine–not become a john. Though, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. He was a looker. And it helped that he wasn’t the cliché homeless guy. At best, he was certified trade looking to get over for the night. I made him a proposition just the same: If he could point me in the right direction of what I was looking for, there was a few dollars in it for him.

He did. I spotted him ten.

He made it clear that the didn’t ring all the bells and whistles, but there was a pub up the way that catered to conventioneers and locals alike, young and old, business and lay. “Straight, gay, and everything in between,” he bragged. “A guy like you can’t miss scoring even if you tried!” The man was right. Not even a moment after I sat down at the bar, a stylish nerdy twenty-something with black-rimmed glasses sat beside me.

The kid started off super smooth. He’d started conversing with the bartender at his domain, and before I knew it, he lured me into a private booth. I think he was disappointed that his collegiate vocabulary didn’t impress me nearly as much as he would’ve liked, but it was informative nonetheless as he struggled to finesse that gray area of not being patronizing with not coming off his pedestal. I assumed he was just being a snot–an entertaining snot–but a snot, nevertheless. It quickly came to light that this was his lame attempt at seduction. Somewhere along the way he lost his airtight script, and with each passing moment he was growing frustrated with himself that he was unable to “seal the deal.” Was I ever like this? Unkindly, as I made my own subtle digs at him, he fell into sheer nervousness and went for broke, littering his pristine word choices with cheesy double entendres and sleazy cruise spots innuendoes.

I was downing the last of my second beer when the kid let it slip that he smelled the money rolling off of me. He was in search of a daddy to take care of him, and apparently, I was it. When the fuck did this happen? I couldn’t get too upset. I was out here doing the same, looking for the same.

I can assure that one of us gets what we want.

As I finished my drink, my voice deepened with sex. I’d hope this would bring the kid at ease, that we were closing the deal. This unfortunately only seemed to unnerve him even more. Look, kid, Daddy’s got it from here!

“You’re done tripping over your words?” I erupted after another one of his stuttering sessions.

His flustered face calmed down.

“We can dance around in circles some more or I can tell you that it’s been a while since I’ve gotten blown off real good and that you look like you got the right kind of mouth to get the job done, whatcha say?”

A hint of excitement crept over his face only to be masked by fake outrage. How dare you? It vehemently questioned. The kid wanted to be wooed.

“If you wanted to be wined and dined you should’ve found a guy that like to play those kinds of cat-and-mouse games. Me? I’m a straight shooter. I don’t like to toy around with my schlong.”

I paid the bill and walked out with the kid two paces behind.

I didn’t think it’d work! Passive aggressive was usually my forte unless me and some other boy were going up for the same dipstick. And even then, it was just a matter of who was willing to do more to achieve that end. With me being a free spirit, I was no stranger in getting the job done.

I refused to take the kid back to my hotel room. My dick was heavy at the thrill of it all, but no more. My ass hungered for that hearty man from earlier and there was the possibility of something tomorrow, if I got the chance. After all, I was a very respectable man. I couldn’t have one man after another doing the walk of shame through the hotel lobby after we were done. But as the kid sat across from me at the pub, he’d already laid it out that he was a broke college grad looking for a job and sponging off of big sis until he hit it big. Unless I was willing to get serviced in the seat of his smart car, I’d have to come up with something much better.

“If you got any ideas of where you’d like to go, I’d like to hear them. If not, I have an idea.”

His eyes beamed, telling me of a bathhouse up the road.

I chuckled. I knew his trick all too well. Get a room, hold the key, and after I’d paid to get us in and got mine, he could spend whatever time left on the pass to suck and fuck and sleep as he pleased. Í would’ve gotten with the trade if I wanted to pay for it, kid!

My feet led us down the hills into the dark and around the park to the empty quiet of the cigar shop. Though I had a key to get in, I remembered the graveled parking lot and small partition facing the hushed street on the side of the square. The area was dead for the night. Foot traffic was scarce, which meant police activity around there was as well since there were no benches to sit on or places to park without paying the private companies.

“On your knees, knob slobber,” I commanded, falling back against the painted cinder wall undoing my belt ahead of the shameful cocksucker’s excuses. “I got a surprise for you!”

I undid my fly and whipped out my cock. I’d started to get hard the second I went along with plan, and with every step towards that end I felt it pulse with its life-giving fluids. Now that we were here it felt like it was all going to explode out of its fleshy sheath.

“Wow!” Dropping to his knees, licking his lips, and tilting my lengthy cock up at the hilt, the kid smiled bright like it was Christmas morning. “I wasn’t expecting you to have all this. Then again, Daddy, you did say you had a big surprise for me.”

I winked. “Isn’t it what you’ve been craving all night?”

The kid looked up submissively, slowly licking the tip. I gently grabbed the back of his head, thrusting into his mouth, enrapt by the warm of his tongue and the cool choke of the autumn night.

“We got to be quick.” I added to the rush of excitement.

The kid loosened his throat and allowed me to fuck his face with the loud slop of saliva drenching my cock, making it even more erotic.

I rode his face like there was nothing else like it in the world. No city. No buildings. No side street to consider. Instead of the breezy cold of the abandoned downtown night, we could’ve very well been in the steamy warmth of the bathhouse with strangers all around us. Nothing else even mattered.

“That’s the stuff.” I moaned. He tickled my fancy marble sac. I heartily pumped some more. He worked my taint then probed my chute. He milked my spot. It was too much, forcing me to clench my cheeks and empty my balls.

I fell into the wall. “Thanks kid. I freakin’ needed that!”

In that instant, before I descended back to and grabbed my pants around my ankles ready to go about my business, I became the slew of men that used to use me. It felt magnificent–strange. But I still hungered to be that boy again, eager to be used by the raging cocks that saw me for what I was.

I walked the kid back up to the pub over to the lot where his abnormally small car was parked. He couldn’t stop grinning ear to ear, basking in sheer glow and rambling on and on about how hot that was. How he wouldn’t have gotten up the gumption to do that without being in the firm care of a daddy. We exchanged numbers with the promise that his butt was on the table next go-around. I conceded in that moment, finally accepting that I was never going to be that cute boy again swimming in an endless sea of debauched cock.

Maybe it was time I accepted my new role in life. I was higher up in the food chain. I always said I never wanted to be that creepy old guy in the corners shelling out money for dick. So if I haphazardly landed a willing boy toy looking for a daddy, why not run with it? Make somebody else happy like they did me in times past. It wasn’t like my cock was useless. I could grow to be an excellent cocksman. Didn’t the best tops start off at the bottom?

I’d made my way back to the hotel ready to write my new story when snippets of the old one reemerged right in front of me. If I swore it was hard not to stare before, big bald and sexy from the cigar shop made standing underneath the dull city lights on the side of the glass building smoking a cheroot look absolutely incredible. Thick eyebrows, clean square jaw, wide patriarchal nose reminded me of why I hankered for men like I did. Memories of old crushes and past conquest came flooding back into my mind, from my old hunky high school science teacher to the postman I agreed to have the threesome with and every man in between and beyond.

As I got closer to him, as going passed him was the only way to get to the front of the hotel, I tried to suppress those sensations from earlier. I was drained, I kept telling my cock. But the tip of it was just as wet as the gulf behind it. It wasn’t ready to let go of the dream it may’ve squeezed its last man-pickle. The more I avoided looking at him, the more I took in his enormous stature. Six-five, wrestler’s build. Did I smell what The Rock was cooking?

No, no, I scurried passed.

“Damn smoke-free hotel got me out here this late at night.” He murmured the second I thought I stepped out of the danger zone.

It was instinct I cocked my head back towards him, like watching a bad accident about to happen and lacking the willpower to turn away.

“Huh?” I stopped.

He repeated himself, still steamed that he thought hotels like ours had smoking rooms for guests, if not a smoking lounge to enjoy a nice cognac. I agreed. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out another cheroot from his portable humidor and offered it to me.

I reached for it reluctantly. I was fervent for his chunky digits to graze mine. I smoke, but I wasn’t much of a smoker. I didn’t know a culebra from a corona even with the guide lessons from my best friend and other cigar aficionados, which lead to another tutorial from him–which I didn’t mind one bit. 

His name was Lux. He was in town for his brother’s wedding. He said it so melancholy I didn’t pry at his sore spot. He’s straight, I figured in dismay. Perhaps he was one of those unmarried men still licking his wounds that his crappy brother was accumulating the dream wife, kids, and white picket fence that he really wanted. So, I was floored when Lux circled back to cutting out of the bachelor party early when his father sent over the stripper to give him a lap dance.

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked out of curiosity. What? She wasn’t your type, stud?

The thick milky fog escaped Lux’s mouth into the murky night and ever so slowly he gave a fleeting look to my rear end, and said in dark sexy tones, “With a phat booty like that, I’d rather get a lap dance from you than her.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. He was joking, right?

Lux smirked knowingly, enjoying my bewilderment.

“My father’s known about me since I had the college recruiter palming his soles, but he’s still holding out for that day I’ll ‘change my mind’ for a nice pair of heavy knockers.”

“Will ya?” I joshed trying to recover from this sudden revelation.

“Why don’t you invite me up to your room and find out for yourself?”

I tittered. “What am I going to do? Motorboat you with my ass?”

Lux seductively took another toke, making sure the heavy intent of his lust was clearly there. “Worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Once we made it back to my room, I made my way over to the mini bar to see whatever dark spirits the movies chased after a cigar. When I heard the lock, it became clear he wasn’t up there for a drink. By the time I cocked my head his way, Lux had already stripped his blazer and pulled his expensive leather strap from its loop, leaning against the door. He curled his finger for me to come to him. His gawk was enchanting, frightening. This wasn’t a “I want to fuck you” look. This was a “I’m going to fuck you good” look. How long had it been since I had something nice and hard up in me? Shy of seven years with work and graduate school?

I wanted to kiss him, but we weren’t there yet. My hands busied the buttons of his white shirt dusted with stripper glitter as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. I reached down then looked. It was quite impressive, even at half staff.

“Now that you’ve gotten my undivided attention what’re you going to do about it?”

I stroked his cock patiently, teasing him like he unknowingly teased me back at the cigar shop with his imposing presence. “Smoke it.”

I dropped to my knees. His invigorating scene invaded my nose of his fragrant cigar with notes of cologne and soap and musk radiating off his forested pubes.

I licked my lips. I kissed the tip, holding his long, hefty shaft in my hands with a hearty smile. “Damn, if you don’t have some meat on you…and tasty, too.” I told the big man after another sample of his nutty-sweet flavor across my kisser.

When I was younger, it was nothing for me to dislocate my jaw for a cock this size. These days I proceeded with caution, avoiding the need to reach for some pain pills later. I gave him the blowjob the kid tried to give me on the side of the cigar shop. He was eager but lacked the skill. I was both hungry and skilled, and Lux greatly appreciated my efforts with his inaudible growls.

I sucked him like this for awhile more than satisfied I had him here in room taking care of his needs this way. Ready to milk his robust cock of its cream with just my mouth when he suggested we make it over to the bed. He stripped me of my clothes and flipped me on my stomach. “What’re you doing?” I asked, looking back at him, afraid that we didn’t fully negotiate what was to come. “What’d you think I’m going to do? I’m going to bury my face between those sweet cheeks!”

His hot breath brought a sigh of relief to my fretful rear. Play-biting and licking my cheeks like a rough puppy marking his territory. Once he made his claim, Lux meticulously ate me out having me beg for more to wanting to tap out against the thick of his deep tongue breaching my sphincter thrashing and swirling and darting in and out of my hole with his fingers steadily stretching and exploring.

“Looks like you’re ready to get fucked.” Lux growled.

I gasped, writhing in sweat. By then he’d worked four fingers inside me flanked by his incessant rimming.

I felt a heavy loss when he pulled out. Used when the lube cooled the smolder of being pulled apart back there. A smile warmed me looking back at the way he filled the magnum. I feared it was going to burst through its limits, but I was no virgin in taking a big beautiful cock.

He calmly splayed on the bed next to me. I took that as my cue to straddle him, but he shooed me back in my place. “Get over there in the chair.”

Confused wasn’t the word, but it was close enough. I understood his intent, but I couldn’t shake these transitions from boy to man back to son in one night. “Yes Daddy,” I conceded.

I bit my lip. I sauntered over into the chair with his soulful eyes burning my body, particularly the place his digits played. I looked back at him wantonly. He looked back at me knowingly, carrying his cased prick to make sure I knew what I was in for.

I lifted my legs. He entered me slowly. Even with all his diligent prep work, it hurt like he never did anything. Four fingers without blinking an eye? He’s packing a fucking telephone pole! I felt weak and sore and tired and he was barely in. “C’mon boy,” he encouraged patiently, grinning. “This ain’t your first rodeo, is it?” I shook my head. “Then you should know better than anybody that Daddy’s got you!” Lux winked.

I winced when he met resistance, whimpered when he blew passed it; suffered at his initial strokes and welcomed him home when his cock made it there in my tear, making sure I thanked him for his company with every grumbling moan whenever he passed by my sweetest spot. The ecstasy swells and multiplies to where I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m bucking him, clawing him, begging to be fucked–harder, softer, just like that–in a never-ending cycle.

Then he rode me.

Before long, I was just a useful hole sandwiched between him and the chair. His pumps moving from leveled to frantic, like a piston gone awry driving everything he had into me, clutching the chair for balance to where his head was above me and going over the back. I cowered underneath him in blackness and fire, acting as a towel to his heated sweat raining down on me.

It felt incredible!

“That’s my boy!” Lux stammered. Reminding me there was always a man out there in desperate need of my hole.

He was knocking the precursor liquids out of me. I clenched my cheeks, amazed that I had walls to speak of, walls to grip his massive manhood.

Lux stuttered, choking on his obscenities.

Hot damn! I was milking the bull!  

He pulled out, snatched off the condom, and unloaded just above my thigh as my cock erupted with its own white-hot lava.

It took a long while, but after we stirred to from our post-cum drowse my feet found their way back to the ground. He kissed me and kissed me again before he scooped me up and carried me back to the bed.

“I didn’t mean to be so rough.” Lux apologized.

“Daddy, you were perfect.” I said grappling his neck and wrapping my legs around him as we lay. 

He nuzzled my neck and rolled over.

I was sad, thinking he was preparing to leave after I made up my mind that he was the first thing I wanted to see in the morning. Somehow when we made it over to the bed, we woke up my laptop.

“What’s this?” Lux asked looking at the Word document.

“It’s just a story I was working on earlier.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Wannabe.”

I started to tell him about the story I started working on shortly after we first crossed paths. “A fantasy,” I said before being interrupted by my vibrating phone.

Lux reached over and handed it off.

I saw who it was. I declined the call.

“Maybe it was important this time of night.” He comforted me with a kiss, wordlessly letting me know he was staying for the night.

I tell him who it was–the kid from earlier. Even though I had no obligation to either man, I was wrought with guilt. I didn’t know what to do.

As Lux’s cock stirred from his lap again, he asked. “Think the kid is down for a threesome?”

“Worth an ask,” I said. “You’re only young once.”