Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2005 19:48:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rebel <rebel7772005@yahoo.com>
Subject: Blaine's New Life - Chapter 17

Blaine's New Life
By Rebel

The following story contains graphic sexual scenes involving sex between
males.  If material of this nature offends you then you should not read
this story.  Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states
you are not allowed to read this story by law.

This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's living
or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
Additionally, the actions of the characters in this story are in no way
intended to show approval of, or give sanction to, their actions.

The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Thank you all very much for the encouragement.  I really appreciate
everyone who has kept after me to continue the story.  I DO answer all
emails.  Positive comments are always welcome and you may e-mail them to
Rebel7772005@yahoo.com.

* * * * * * * *

I was supposed to meet Dennis and Michael somewhere out here, but all I
could see were several people standing around outside the gate.  As I
approached, two men separated from the group and headed toward me.  I
stopped in mid-stride and just stared.  If I hadn't have recognized Dennis'
face, I would have walked right past Michael.  Dennis was bareheaded
wearing a royal purple tight t-shirt that was cut off just below his pecs
and showing a good set of abs.  Michael was wearing a leather cap that was
peaked in front like one of those old time motorcycle caps that you see in
the movies.  He had his hair slicked back with some sort of gel and his
moustache was neatly trimmed.  The most amazing thing that brought me up
short was that he was bare-chested and only wearing some type of harness
that had two, wide leather straps, one on each shoulder, that met on a
large silver ring right in the middle of his solar plexus.  Also attached
to this ring were two silver chains that draped around to the back,
perfectly framing his massive pecs and dark, quarter sized nipples.

Until this moment, I'd never seen pierced nipples on a man before, but
Michael had one pierced with a small silver ring that had a small black
marble on it, and the other was pierced with a straight silver bar.  His
perfectly smooth chest shown like alabaster in the reflected overhead
lights.  He had black leather pants on that looked like they had to have
been painted on him and heavy black boots with silver rings on the sides.

As my eyes shifted over to Dennis' legs, I was in for another shock; his
pants weren't pants at all but leather chaps that were open at the top with
what looked like a leather jockstrap to cover his goodies.  The chaps were
held in place by a heavy, studded belt that encircled his impossibly small
waist.  When he saw that he had my attention, he turned around and just
about gave me a heart attack His entire bare ass was hanging out for all to
see, and there wasn't a hair on it.

"Looking good Blaine," Michael said as I picked my jaw up off of the
pavement.

"Shall we go in?" Dennis asked as he swaggered off toward the gate.


Chapter 17 -- Leather Isn't Just for Shoes Anymore

As we walked in the gate, I was in for another shock.  Just beyond the `L'
shaped privacy entrance, I saw two men at a table, both similarly clad as
we were.  One was sipping on a long neck while sitting back in one of the
plastic deck chairs, his legs spread wide with his Levis opened wide and
spread back.  The second man was on his knees between the splayed legs
doing a great job of bobbing up and down on what looked like an eight-inch
prong, and about every third trip down making it all disappear into his
throat.  I was so shocked at such an open display right there on the patio
that I just stopped and stared.  Michael had to come back and pull me by
the arm to get me moving again over to the stairs up.

When we caught up to Dennis, I saw Michael lean over and whisper in his
ear, then both chuckled, I presume at me, and climbed the stairs to the
second floor and the raucous bar noise and the tinny sound of a jukebox.
As we opened the door, another bouncer checked our hands for the bar stamp,
and then let us enter.  The sound inside was a cacophony of loud talk to be
heard over the more than reasonable sound system that was blasting out DJ
songs for the dance floor.  Where my previous sojourn into the gay bar
scene had been a mix of male/female and male/male dance partners, this one
was all men.  The attire ranged from complete black leather outfits that
made the wearers sweat copiously all the way to one young man who was
probably JUST 21 who was clad only in a tight, black, nylon dress sock
pulled snugly over his cock and balls.  Everyone on the dance floor seemed
to be having a good time.

We moved to an open section of the bar without stools, leaned in to shout
our orders to one of several bartenders, took our proffered drinks and
moved off to a `quiet' section of the bar be way of a hallway and through
two inter-connecting rooms.  The entire interior was painted in various
textures and finishes of the color black.  I noticed as we moved through
the crowd that there were strategically placed hanging silver chains and
various bars of dubious use.  The place was lit with well-placed lights,
usually red, that lit up one section of a wall or accouterment, but left
much of the room in deep shadow.  In these shadow areas, I could see
several bodies mulling around much as we were, but stopping and talking
once in a while before moving on.  Michael and Dennis seemed to be
well-known here and were stopped several times to chat briefly before they
moved on.

They found an open section of wall and a free standing bar table where we
set our drinks.  I followed their lead and turned back to face the interior
of the room with my back against the wall, all three of us clustered around
this small table.  At least the noise level here was tolerable for
conversation with only slightly raised voices.  The circulating patrons
were a myriad of various leather costumes and outfits.  Some were festooned
with multiple tattoos in every conceivable place; one guy with
close-cropped hair sported a chained angel on his right pec with the chain
leading to his pierced nipple.  As he walked away, I saw that he sported a
rather large color picture of the Grim Reaper in purple carrying the Rebel
Flag tattooed on his right butt cheek.

I was gawking at the tattoos so much I almost missed the Adonis who
strutted by.  He was about 6 feet 2-inches tall, with blond hair, probably
peroxide, wide, tanned shoulders tapering to a trim waist, but what made
him stand out was that he was wearing a shoulder harness similar to the one
Michael wore, but this boy's was made completely of silver chains connected
to large silver rings.  It looked like it was about two sizes too small,
from the way the chains pressed into his tanned flesh, really accentuating
the overly developed chest.  It was obvious that he was into nipple play
because his nips were visibly hard and standing proud about a quarter of an
inch from the flat, meaty slabs underneath.  In a word, he looked like a
`lollipop' ready for licking.

We stood there sipping our drinks and watching the endless parade of
patrons.  I had heard of leather bars and was vaguely aware that they were
part of the S&M scene since the `straight' world had its variations.  I
knew that all of it was somehow entwined with whips, chains, and bondage,
but I had no idea that it was so prevalent in the gay world.  I leaned to
Michael's ear and asked (shouted?), "Are ALL these guys into S&M?"

He shouted back, "Nah, most of `em just like the clothes," and grinned and
smirked a bit.  Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he said, "C'mon,
let's go out on the deck where we can talk, and it's a little cooler."  I
hadn't paid much attention to it, but now that he said it, I did notice
that the atmosphere in the bar had gotten almost sweltering.  "We're going
out on the deck to cool off," he said to Dennis as we were leaving.

"I'm gonna make a swing around the bar, can I bring you guys a refill?"
Dennis asked.  We both nodded and we parted, Michael and I escaping to the
refreshing upper deck while Dennis swam his way into that sea of man-flesh.
We saw two empty chairs at a 4-top and walked over to them.

"Hi guys," Michael said, "Are these two taken?" indicating the empty
chairs.

The dark haired one looked up at us and then replied, "Not at all!  Ohhhhh,
David, this must be our lucky night," gushing out a pick-up line that was
older than I was.

"Down Richard, put the talons away, you know I'm married," Michael said as
we sat down.

"Yes, I know you are Michael, but..." then Richard got a look of abject
horror on his face.  "Oh My God... don't tell me that you're married to this
hunk too!" he gushed.

Michael, chuckling, said, "No Richard, I'm not a polygamist, but you
wouldn't like Blaine here -- he's vanilla."

"Ooohhhhh," Richard groaned, "What a waste," but he still eyed me steadily
and his brown haired friend seemed to take an interest.

"As I was trying to say inside Blaine," Michael continued, "Most of these
guys really aren't into pain and bondage and all that stuff, they just like
the way they look in the Levis and the leather pants, not to mention the
rest of the accessories, and they usually prefer their partners to be men
rather than the limp-wristed variety."

"Oh yes," Richard interjected, "Give me one of those Nelly queens any day,"
doing his imitation of a lisp.  The brown haired man sitting next to him
gave his cheek a modest slap with the back of his hand at that comment and
I wondered if he could talk.

About that time, Dennis appeared at the table juggling three drinks and
doing his best to veer around revelers.  All things considered, I thought
he did an admirable job of getting through it all with the drinks full.
"Hello Richard," Dennis said as he set the drinks down.  It looked like
Richard's face lost all of its color.

"Oh... uhh... hi Dennis.  How's your night?" he asked in a very different and
strangely quiet voice.  Then he turned to the cowboy with the brown hair
and said, "C'mon David, I need another drink," and all but dragged him from
his seat.  As the man unwrapped his legs from under the table and stood, I
saw that he towered over all of us.  He must have been about 6 foot 4, and
besides the form-fitting cowboy shirt he wore, his jeans looked like he was
poured into them.  Right at my eye level, I caught sight of what must have
been a Polish sausage going down his left leg.  I followed his jeans all
the way down to his polished, pointed boots with the heels and had to do a
double take when I saw that he was wearing spurs.

Now being what would usually be referred to as a "bonafied cowboy", since I
had worked on a real cattle ranch for one long, dry summer in Wyoming, and
I could ride a horse western style, hell, I could even use a lariat and
rope a steer, I could see that this tall drink of water was no real cowboy.
He had probably never even been in a saddle, well, one with a horse under
it, and didn't know what a cow smelled like.  Now I could more fully
understand what Michael was talking about when he said `liking the
outfits'.

The real icing on the cake was when this lanky `urban cowboy' opened his
mouth, and in a high, squeaky voice said, "See ya later guys," as he was
being dragged away by Richard.  It was all I could do to keep from
laughing, and I could see that Dennis and Michael were having the same
problem.  After the duo disappeared into the crowd, we all burst into a fit
of giggles.

"What was that all about?" I asked them once I got myself under control.

"Oh...you mean Richard?" Dennis queried.

"Let me," Michael said, "This is good."  So I looked toward Michael for
`the rest of the story'.  "One night about six months ago, we were in here
and Richard seems to feel that he has to hit on any and all fresh meat."

"Newbies," Dennis answered to my raised eyebrows.

"Anyway, he was trying his damndest to get me, to the point of being
obnoxious.  He drinks like a fish and is usually half crocked, so after
about the umpteenth time of telling him that I wasn't interested, Dennis
walks up to him, grabs his shirt front, and raises him a foot off the
ground--"

"It wasn't a foot," Dennis interrupted, "Only an inch or so."

"This is myyy story, I'll tell it any way I want," Michael said in mock
sternness.  "Now if you don't miinnndd... Richard is spitting and
sputtering being held against a wall about 6-inches off the ground," he
said smiling at Dennis, "And Dennis hisses to him that if he catches him
bothering me anymore, he would pitch him over that balcony and shove him
into the burn pit for Sunday barbecue.  Richard's eyes got about as big
around as saucers, and when Dennis let him down, all he could do was to
apologize to us for the rest of the night."

"I must admit that all of the free drinks he bought us that night really
tasted better than any other night we've been here," Dennis said, taking
Michael's hand.  We all had a good laugh after that one.

"As you have seen with our cowboy here," Michael explained, "Most of these
guys just like dressing the part; they're not hardcore S&M at all.  Oh,
don't get me wrong, there are some really butch dudes here, and some that
rally are into bondage and discipline, but for the most part, it's just
harmless fun."

"Butch?" I asked with arched eyebrows.

"You know," Dennis said, "Like super macho, tough guy stuff.  Boy, you
really are a novice Blaine, I guess I've got to start you in Gay Life 101,"
starting to grin widely at my blush that was slowly creeping up my face.
"The term `butch' as opposed to `fem' or `feminine' meaning more masculine
traits, where the femme traits are more the stereotypical swishy and
limp-wristed behavior displayed by some gay men."  As he talked I thought
back to incidents and encounters in my past or times when I'd see such
traits displayed by both men and women.  I was beginning to understand this
new vernacular that was bandied about so freely.

"Often times you hear the term `butch dyke'," Michael filled in.

"Yes, I've heard that even in the straight bars where Cindy and I would
sometimes go," I commented.

"And I'll bet it was used by a man referring to a woman who was a little
more forceful and dynamic than the usual, demure coquettish type that the
American male comes in contact with," he continued.

"Yeah, and the lady had a short, boyish type haircut and very little make
up, come to think of it," I remembered.

"Well, the term literally refers to a lesbian who displays those manly
traits, but in our society has become synonymous with any female, gay or
straight, who challenges the norm like that.  And almost always in the
straight world, it's a derogatory comment, right?"

Now I was seeing where a lot of these terms that are swaggered around the
dating scene came from.  It never ceases to amaze me, the never-ending
lexicon of words that constantly change right before our eyes.

"Let's go downstairs to the leather shop," Dennis suggested.  "Who knows,
you might even find something you like."  I had no idea what they were
talking about but was game for anything -- especially with a couple of
scotch under my belt.

We serpentined our way through the mass of bodies in the bar that I swear
had doubled since we had arrived.  It was nice to rub against other moving
bodies, and I finally figured out that the bumping and grinding going on
wasn't purely by accident.  Maybe it had something to do with the couple of
times that I was openly groped and fondled as we moved that had something
to do with my realization.

As we emerged back onto the outside landing of the stairs where we had
entered, I followed them through another maze of bodies that were either
standing on the sides, or trying to move in the opposite directions, going
either into, or out of the bar.  Walking this gauntlet proved as
interesting as moving through the crowded bar.  I felt my ass cheeks
stroked a couple of times and at one point this beefy hand reached out and
scooped me into his buff body.  "Hi gorgeous, I'm James.  What are you
doing later?"  I could only stammer and grope for words at his direct
approach as I looked into his ice blue eyes and thick brow only inches in
front of me.  I felt an arm snake around my middle and looked over to see
Dennis pull me from his clutches and glare at him as we moved on to the
stairs.

We couldn't talk moving down the stairs in single file, but when we got to
the bottom, Michael turned around and asked, "Are you ok?"

"Sure, no problem," I answered, "He just caught me by surprise.  Who was
that guy?" I asked them.

Both shook their heads and Dennis replied, "I don't know him; never seen
him before.  He must be an out-of-towner."

"Yeah, well, if he keeps going like that he's liable to get that arm broke
before the night's over.  Some of these guys don't go for that shit at all.
Tiny, one of the bouncers will stomp him into a mud hole," he chuckled at
the thought.

"Well, just forget about it guys," I told them, "Let's just have fun."
Dennis steered us over to a flat steel door with the name "Cage Works"
welded on it.  He opened it and as we entered, I noticed a distinct absence
of noise.

Noting my wonderment, Dennis leaned over and said, "Yeah, Les got tired of
all the noise too, so he had the place soundproofed."  A nice looking older
man came out from a curtained back room and greeted Michael and Dennis like
long lost buddies.  They introduced me as a `newbie' to the gay life and
the bar scene.  As we talked, a younger man in leather attire came out from
the back room, said he'd see Les later, and walked out of the shop.  Dennis
and Michael ignored it so I did too, even though I was dying to find out
what we may have interrupted.  Les looked me over with an appraising eye
and then went over to a rack of hanging garments.  When he came back, he
had an armful of various leather garments.

"Take your shirt off Blaine," he said in a conversational tone, and all
three of them watched as I pulled the wife beater I was wearing out of my
pants and proceeded to pull it off over my head.  "Ooohhh, that's nice," he
said as he appraised my chest and abs.

"Well, I do try to workout when I'm in town," I said lamely, trying to
remember when the last time was that I had seen the inside of a gym.

"And it shows partner," Dennis said.  "I didn't know you had such assets
hidden under that shirt and tie at the office."

"Or maybe you've just been hiding this from me," Michael playfully said as
he took a step closer, cupped a butt cheek in one hand, and slid the other
hand deftly over my hard pec and quickly erecting nipple.

"Now cut that out," Dennis said for a comeback.

"Ahhh, a lover's spat; ain't love grand," Les smirked at the pair.  "Here,
slip this on," he told me as he handed me a black leather vest.  I held it
in my hand and raised it, stuck my other hand up, and let the vest slid
down them onto my shoulders.  The leather felt soft and supple next to my
bare skin and I could feel myself starting to get an erection.  I pirotted
to show off for the guys and that darn Michael had the nerve to give me a
wolf whistle, to which we all giggled like school girls.  Les escorted me
to the full-length mirror and I was astonished at the `look'.  Bare chested
with just a black vest DID look good on me.

"Ah yes," Les hissed, "Starting to look more like a biker all the time.
Now you need these," handing me a pair of equally soft leather trousers.
We were all just standing in the shop and no one made a move to show me to
a changing room when it suddenly hit me that they were ALL waiting to see
me slide my jeans off and change right there.  I grinned wide and undid the
buckle and the top button.  You could almost see them salivate.  I found
that I was enjoying this, so I made slow, deliberate moves to pop the next
button and the next, letting the top of my pubic bush come into view.  I
could see hard-ons starting in three pairs of pants -- which made me get
harder too.  I quickly undid the last two buttons, dropped the Levis to the
floor and stepped out of them, then swung one leg into the hole opening of
the leathers.

I seemed to have it made when I miscalculated the length of the unhemmed
pants and stood on the bunched up extra on the floor.  I lost my balance
and because my feet were tangled in the new pants, I was unable to take a
step to catch my fall.  Michael wasn't quick enough to catch me completely,
but he was able to grab my arm as I fell into him, resulting in both of us
ending up on the floor, me on my bare butt with a semi-hard dick, and
Michael lying crosswise on my knees.  Dennis thought this was uproariously
funny and brayed like a jackass at our predicament.  That got Les started
which then infected the two of us, both red-faced and looking at each
other.

The one good thing that DID happen was that it broke the sexual tension in
the room and we all went back to being just guys out having a good time.
Michael got to his knees and they grabbed me, one under each arm to get me
up but still tangled.  They then went down, held my legs while one cleared
one leg, and then the other cleared my other leg.  When I was finally
standing on my stocking feet with the leather pants bunched around my
knees, they stood and just gawked at my package.  As graciously as I could
muster, I reached down and pulled the soft pants up over my butt, tucked in
my almost soft cock, and zipped them up.  "Zippers?" I questioned.

"Buttons would tear out the leather," Les told me, "They need the
continuous pull of a zipper."  I fastened the top button and went to look
in the mirror.  `Damn, they look good on me,' I thought.

"You really look good in those," Dennis said in almost a whisper.  `Well,
either way,' I thought.  As I was admiring my reflection, I noticed several
pairs of gray slacks on a rack behind me and thought `how inconsistent; to
have gray slacks in a shop like this'.  So I turned around to check them
out further.  On closer inspection, they weren't "slacks" at all but were
ultra-soft gray leather pants.

"I just got those in," Les told me when he saw that I was admiring them.
"Tonight's the first night I've had them out.  Let's see," he said as he
started thumbing through the sizes and selecting one, "These should fit
you."  I got smart this time and sat on the stool he had there to take the
black leather pants off and try the gray ones on.  I stood to fasten the
top and caught the looks from Dennis and Michael as I put everything away,
zipped up, and snapped the top closed.  Michael looked like a ravenous wolf
about ready to eat me up.

I stepped to the mirror and turned around to admire the view.  The cut of
these was slightly different and hugged my buns better, actually pulling
into the butt crack a little and making them more defined.  "Oh... My...
God!" I heard and looked up into the mirror.  In the reflection, I could
see that Michael had a full-blown hard-on snaking down the inside of his
right thigh, and Dennis's bulge in his small leather jock was more
pronounced.  I looked over and Les was poking out his faded jeans.

"Damn guys, it can't be that good," I said jokingly.

"You have no idea," Dennis muttered.

"Dennis, we've worked together for years," startled at his response.

"Yes, but in all those years, I've never seen you with your shirt off, let
alone..." referring back to the strip show he's obviously been enjoying.  I
turned back toward the mirror feeling a blush coming on, but I was also
kind of reveling in this newfound adulation.  I surruptiously stole glances
at the others as I moved slightly in the mirror to look from different
angles.

"I'll take `em," I said thinking that I owed myself a change of outfits to
go along with this new life I was starting to enjoy, "But I will need to
find someplace to hem up the legs."

"I do that here," Les told me, "It's included."  I started to put on my
boots for a fit when Les told me, "No Blaine, let me measure you in your
bare feet, then they'll look good in whatever footwear you have on... or
don't have on as the case might be," and we all chuckled at the inference.
He proceeded to push down and pull up on the beltline to see how much it
would move -- which it didn't, and to feel the crotch and inseam "for fit",
of course, hehehehe.  He marked the bottom of the trousers and then stood
back up.  "Give me about half an hour or so and you can have them tonight,"
he said surprising me at his promptness.  "And the vest?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, that too," I told him, "I kinda like the way it sets off my
natural color."  I have what's called a `ruddy' complexion; not olive like
Italians and Greeks, nor is it the alabaster of Scandinavians.  The black
leather set off the coloring that showed that I hadn't been in the sun much
over the past few years.

"A belt," Michael said as he moved to a hanging rack with several different
varieties.  The first one that caught my eye looked like it was an
oversized bicycle chain.  When I looked up questioningly, Michael said,
"It's a chrome drive chain from a Harley-Davidson motorcycle."

"Oh, that explains the four link width," I said as I passed it through my
hand.  It was finished off with a gaudy buckle and I just didn't think it
would be the right one for me.  I looked at several more and then found one
that was a mottled dark gray and black with a double row of square cut
`diamond' studs along the entire length.  I pulled it from the rack and
tried it loosely around my waist.  It must have been about a foot too long,
so I started to put it back.

"That one looks good with those pants," Les told me.

"Yeah, but it's way too long.  I was gonna put it back and see if you had a
shorter one," I responded.

"Since I do a lot of the custom leatherwork here, I order all of the belts
at maximum length, and then cut to fit the customer."  He chuckled as he
went on, "Not all of my customers are as trim and fit as you are."  I
started to blush again at the compliment.  "Slip it through the belt loops
and we'll measure it too."  I did as he asked and he marked it with ample
left over for "expansion" if I needed it.  Michael walked over with a belt
buckle showing the rear view of a nude reclining man, and snapped it on the
belt end.  It looked ok and then he rolled it in his hand to show me that
the `stud' that fit into a hole to close the belt was actually the
reclining stud's erection.  They all had a good laugh as I once again
blushed.

"No, I don't think so Michael," I said as I removed the buckle.  "I have
just the buckle at home," I told him, thinking of the Junior Rodeo buckle I
had received as a teenager back in Idaho.

"Use one of these for tonight, and you can return it the next time you come
to the shop," Les said with a twinkle in his eye, knowing that I WOULD be
back.  "You ARE gonna wear them tonight when I get them done, aren't you?"

"He will," Dennis spoke up before I could answer.  "We're just gonna have
to play bodyguards for the rest of the night is all," and they all chuckled
at my once again blushing at the unexpected compliment.  As I peeled off
the leather pants and got back into my worn jeans, he said, "We'll be back
in a while Les and see what mayhem he'll cause when we take him back
upstairs."


We left the shop and joined that cacophony of noises back on the lower
patio.  By now, our drinks were empty and a cute little thing approached
asking if we wanted refills.  "I'll just have a Pepsi, I still have to
drive home," I told him.  Michael wasn't driving so he ordered another
drink while Dennis joined me in a soft drink.

"The boss would have my head if I came in with a hangover tomorrow," he
said winking at me.  But then I remembered that tomorrow was Saturday, so I
knew he really WAS leading me on.

When the drinks arrived, he set the tray on the table we were leaning
against and served them, but as he handed me my Pepsi, he batted his
beautiful eyelashes and looked through them at me in a definite come on.
"And this is for the handsome driver," he purred.  When I took the offered
cup, he slipped his hand inside my vest and tweaked my nipple.  I was by
now getting a little more comfortable with all of this open display so I
smiled down at him.  He took my smile as an invitation, rose on his toes a
bit, and kissed me tentatively on the lips.  I was a bit surprised but
recovered quickly and found that I liked it.  I kissed him back and soon
found myself in a full-blown tongue battle with the kid.  We broke the kiss
and he tweaked both nipples with both his hands on my chest and said, "I'm
off at closing at 2," picked up his tray and sashayed off through the
crowd.

I looked over to see both Michael and Dennis grinning at me and I blushed.
"Well, what have we here?" Michael said, "A sex magnet in our midst?"

"I'd say so Michael, we've unleashed a sex dynamo onto this town," Dennis
replied.

"I wonder just how much of a dynamo our Blaine really is," he mused and I
thought he was kidding, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw hunger and
want.  Turning my gaze to Dennis for support, I saw much the same look in
his eyes.  `Oh shit,' I thought, `is this gonna lead somewhere?'  Then I
started thinking of the can of worms I'd be opening around the office and
dismissed the idea.

"Care to dance?" Dennis offered, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Sure, I'll give it a try," I told him after only a couple of moment's
hesitation.  We worked our way through the throng and into the area that
was supposed to be dance floor, but with the mass of bodies, it was
difficult to know where it began.  They had some techno-punk-rock something
playing that I didn't recognize, but it was loud and thumped to a strong
beat.  After a couple of numbers in that mass of humanity, I was sweating
profusely and thankful for my Right Guard since it was obvious that not
everyone around me had used deodorant.  We finished two or three numbers
but then made a hasty retreat to the outside deck area.  Michael must have
been watching and showed up almost immediately with our drinks.

"Thought you might like these," he said handing them out.  As I was taking
a big gulp of my drink, I saw Michael lean over and whisper something to
Dennis.  `Lover's secrets,' I thought, but then Dennis looked up quickly at
me but then looked elsewhere as Michael whispered.  I wondered then what
social fau paux I might have committed.  When we'd finished our drinks
Michael said, "It's been more than half and hour; let's head downstairs and
get our social butterfly here into his new duds," giving me a hug.  We
worked our way back through the crowd and down the stairs, but this time
the thug on the stairs just ignored us.

As we walked into the shop, Les was just coming out of the back with my new
pants over his arm and my belt in his other hand.  "That's good timing, I
just finished them," he said as he handed me the pants.  "You DO want to
wear them now, don't you?" he asked as he looked questioningly at the three
of us.  Just then the shop door opened letting in the noise from outside --
no wonder Les didn't need a bell on the door -- and we all turned to see
the cute young waiter from upstairs walk in.  "Hi Alan," Les said
cordially, "Anything you need in a hurry for upstairs?"

"Nah, I'm on break and just thought I'd look around," he said hastily when
he saw that we were all watching him.

We went back to our conversation with me answering, "Yeah, I guess I'd
better or else these two wolves will have me for dinner," I chuckled.

"Not a bad idea," Les flirted.  I laid the new pants on the counter,
unlaced my hiking boots again and kicked them off, then unbuttoned my
501's, not giving it a second thought; everyone had already seen everything
earlier.  I slid the jeans down and heard a sharp intake of breath.  I
looked up as I let them fall to the floor and saw Alan's eyes about pop out
of his head; I'd forgotten about him being there.  I made a show of
stepping out of my jeans and bending over to pick them up for his benefit.
It obviously worked because he made pretense of covering up the obvious
erection he had in the scanty waiter outfit he wore.  I took the new
leathers and pulled them slowly up my legs and over my rump.  As I tucked
everything inside, still looking at Alan, I heard him sigh.  As I was
pulling up the zipper, Les leaned over and whispered, "Go on over and
stroke him off; it's ok."

I got a wolfish grin on my face then and took the three steps over to Alan,
took him in a tight embrace, and pressed my lips hard against his full,
luscious mouth.  When we came up for air, I reached down and grabbed his
cock through his jock as I slid my lips and tongue down his neck and
shoulder, finally sucking a nipple into my mouth.

"UUUUuuuhhhhh, ggaaaawwwwwdd!!" Alan moaned loudly.  He arched his back,
threw his head back, and thrust his pulsating cock hard into my grasping
fist.  I hadn't realized that he was so close and figured that I'd better
hurry if I wanted a mouthful of him.  I rapidly moved south on the moaning
boy but not loosing contact with my tongue and lips as I felt his treasure
trail start and then tasted the wide elastic of his jock.  I pulled the
pouch outward and let his cock flop free in the air where it bounced once
and I trapped it in my mouth, letting it slide a bit farther in.  He seemed
to be of average size, cut, and easy to work on.  With my limited knowledge
and experience, I wasn't sure if I could take all of it or not, but using
what I'd been taught with Jerry and Steve, I was able to go all the way
down to nestle my nose in his wiry pubic bush.

I had planned on giving him at least a few strokes, but poor Alan didn't
last that long.  I felt his cock swell in my mouth and the skin become real
taut before he suddenly grabbed the back of my head and held me in place as
he started to spurt out ropes of cum.  I grabbed him by both cheeks equally
as tightly.  His cum tasted acrid and bitter compared to my previous
partners, but it still felt good to be swallowing as he shot.  I don't know
how many shots he got off, but when I looked up, I saw that he was getting
weak on his feet and starting to swoon.  Les had stepped behind him when he
saw what was happening and held him under the arms.

Loud clapping came from over my shoulder followed by, "Way to go Blaine!"
and "That was great!"

I lapped up every drop I could feel on his dick as I slowly withdrew to
lean back on my haunches, grinning, and looking up at a very fatigued young
man.  He was coming down from his high and Les was able to exert less and
less force to hold him up.  "Wow," was about all he could get out to which
we all chuckled.  He looked so cute standing there barely able to maintain,
with his jock pushed aside and his now limp cock hanging there.  I saw one
last drop form on the head so I quickly leaned forward and slurped in onto
my tongue.  "Oh Fuck!  Don't do that!" Alan exclaimed as he tried to back
up away from me but couldn't move since Les was still right behind him.  I
stood up and adjusted my almost rigid shaft figuring that I'd get off
later, and we watched as Alan rearranged his outfit, ran his fingers
through his wavy brown hair, muttered something that sounded like `I need
to get back,' and beat a hasty retreat out the door.

"Damn man, I didn't know you were gonna do THAT," Les said also adjusting
his crotch.  "That was wild!"

"No shit Blaine," complimented Michael, "THAT was fantastic!"  I looked
down at both bulging fronts and only smiled, but THIS time I didn't blush.
I slid my new pants around a bit, getting comfortable, but still had the
loose ends of the belt hanging in front.

Les saw what I needed, reached behind the counter and grabbed a brass
buckle in the shape of dragon, and handed to me saying, "Here, use this one
for the night.  You can leave it here when you leave or bring it by some
other time."  The guys got me situated, gazed a critical eye, but then
nodded their approval.  When I reached for my jeans to transfer the stuff
from my pockets, Michael put out a restraining hand.

When I looked up at him he said, "It would be a shame to have a bulge from
your wallet spoil the affect of that gorgeous butt.  Just use a wristband
like we do."  I saw that they had matching wristbands and when I looked
back toward Les, he already had a studded band held out to me.  I wasn't
sure how to use it, so Michael stepped over and showed me that the back
opened and was large enough to put some bills and my ID.  "I'm sure that
you can leave your jeans and other things here until we leave," he said to
which Les just nodded already scooping them into a large plastic bag and
writing my name on it.

"And you can drop off the buckle when you come for your things," he said.
We all thanked him profusely and walked back outside into the cooling air
and the noise.


This time as we walked back upstairs I knew what to expect and found that I
was kinda looking forward to it.  More than one hand stroked, patted, or
squeezed my butt as we `ran the gauntlet' to get back inside.  We wormed
our way back through the crowd that I could swear got more densely packed
while we were gone.  When we got back to near the table we had left, we saw
that it was occupied so we moved to the back wall that had a shelf at hip
height running all the way around it.  Before we got settled standing
facing back toward the room, Alan was there with a duplicate of our earlier
order.  As he handed me my Pepsi, he leaned in, gave me a quick peck on the
lips, and said, "Thanks baby, that was the greatest," and then vanished
back into the crowd.

For the next hour or so, we randomly circulated the various rooms seeing
what might be going on, getting groped, and doing a fair amount of groping
ourselves.  We were finally overheated and needed a breather so we migrated
out onto the upper deck.  As we were standing there, Dennis sidled up close
and said, "Michael and I would both like you to come home with us for the
night -- if you'd care to."

`Then my feelings from earlier were right,' I thought, `but maybe that's
not such a good idea.'  "I'd love to enjoy both of you guys Dennis," I told
him, "But I think that would make a very awkward situation around work."

"What situation Blaine?" he asked.  "You heard what Pete said, and Debbie
thinks the sun rises and sets with you, and as far as us making fools of
ourselves at work, I think we both know each other better than that."

Maybe I just wanted to be convinced, but I really didn't have to think
about it that long.  "Ok," was all I said but you'd have thought I had just
given him the keys to the city, the way his face lit up.  We made our way
back through the bar, this time with Dennis holding my hand as we went, and
almost made it to the exit before we saw Alan.  I gave him a quick kiss and
whispered, "Maybe another time baby."

He smiled a genuine smile and asked, "Promise?"

"Count on it," I told him and we pressed on out the door.

To Be Continued...