Date: Sun, 29 May 2005 17:59:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rio Mack <badprose@yahoo.com>
Subject: alien culture 12 (gay/college)

The Alien Culture Project, part 12
by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.

Reed sat at the dimly-lit Sparta bar, trying to spot Chance.  He really had
to squint, as Sparta was a fairly dark club, lit only by strips of neon
here and there, strings of twinkle-lights, and candles on the tables that
fringed one side of the dance floor.  He had waited out front for a while,
but he felt sort of stupid just hanging out on the street.  Hell, Chance
was a big boy: if he didn't see Reed out front, he'd be sure to come in.
So he sat nursing a drink and chatting with the bartender, while he waited.
The club was already three-quarters full of some of the most gorgeous boys
in the city.  The music was thumping, and the dance floor was already
crowded.  Reed was almost breathless, he was so antsy to see his boyfriend
- especially to see him in this scene, such a major part of Reed's social
life.  Clubbing with that wild, sexy, young stud could only be cool.

Just when he thought he should maybe go back outside to check for Chance,
his eyes caught sight of something electrifying.  There at the door, back
turned to him, was the hottest-looking boy he'd ever seen.  A total young
muscle-stud, even better built than Chance, he thought.  And dressed and
groomed to fucking kill.  Dude had a buzz cut that was perfect: it looked
like three- or four-day beard growth had spread out and covered his head,
just the way Reed liked it.  He felt his own dick swell as he thought about
licking that hard-body's head all over, then feeling that sexy stubble
scratching down between his legs.  Fuck, would that be hot!  And this
hot-boy's outfit! Shit.  Reed began to think maybe this was a young film
star or something, here on location, cause he had never seen fashions this
sexy.  It was denim, but cut in some incredibly expensive,
had-to-be-European way.  The clothes seemed tailor-made; they hugged the
gorgeous stud's upper body and cupped his incredible ass.  The jacket and T
were cut short, so his perfectly sculpted lower back was boldly displayed.
And that sweet patch of flesh went on forever, cause the jeans were very
low-riding, leaving a mouth-watering inch or so of ass-cleavage on
gorgeous, knee-weakening display.  It got Reed very hard, that deep crack
between those hard, luscious globes.  Reed gulped some of his scotch and
soda, to relieve a mouth gone suddenly dry with lust, and thought about
burying his tongue all up in that sexy ass.  This guy's ass was even better
than Chance's - harder, rounder, fuller.

Fuck, this was the kind of dude that was going to seriously test his
relationship with his new boyfriend.  He didn't want to be unfaithful to
Chance, ever, but about thirty feet away, chatting with the doorman, was a
stud that made Chance look like a kind of rough draft.  This dude was
serious perfection.  Reed was too tempted; he knew he'd have to flirt with
him.  And why the fuck not, Reed thought though indignantly, as he felt his
dick harden further for this major stud who, he saw, was turning so many
heads: Chance had spent the past few days of his new gay life fucking any
built young guy he wanted; didn't Reed get to play around outside the
relationship, too?

Reed sipped a little more scotch as he watched this breath-taking boy.  His
testosterone started churning up wonderful sex fantasies.  Damn, he thought
wickedly, what if he and this dude really did hook up?  What if he got
involved in a furtive affair with him, and then realized he preferred him
over Chance?  Odds were pretty good of that, cause this stud made Chance -
sexy as he was - seem like a grade-schooler.  Ooooh, that sexy buzzed head
was sooo perfect, and that hard, ripe ass.  Those huge legs, so much harder
and bulkier than Chance's, he could tell from just looking.  And this
Euro-stud's shoulders were way broader.  Oh fuck, was he ever hard for this
guy.  He could hardly wait till he turned aroun -

Reed thought people only actually did those goofy comic spit-takes in the
movies, but as soon as his dream-stud turned, caught his eye, and waved,
Reed spit out the rest of his mouthful of scotch in utter disbelief.

"Hey, man!  I made it!" Chance yelled excitedly across the bar-space, after
paying his cover (and getting a nice ass-rub from the doorman, which caused
Chance to turn around and grin).  As he strode over to his lover,
hurriedly, Chance couldn't help but notice the weird expression on Reed's
face.  Like he was pissed or something.  Shit, what time was it?  How late
was he?

He got up close to his lover, gave him a quick kiss, and then looked a
little hang-dog at Reed's gaping stare.

"Shit, man, sorry if I'm late, but it's so fuckin' good to see you.  Damn,
you look hot.  Hell, Reed, I wish we could fuck right now," he said as he
stroked Reed up and down: leather pants, see-through shirt, some kinda
cool-ass metal stud belt, and hair perfectly gelled.  And small silver
earrings, which looked very sexy on Reed.

But Reed was still looking pissed.  Chance couldn't understand this.

"Dude, what is it?  What'd I do?"

"Holy fucking fuck," Reed stammered, thawing into utter passion for his hot
young lover.  "I was just in some XXX-rated fantasy about how I was gonna
leave you for this way finer-ass stud who'd just walked in the club," Reed
shook his head in confusion, "and then it turns out YOU"RE the way
finer-ass stud!"

Chance smiled sheepishly and rubbed his head.  "You mean the hair, right?
Looks great, huh?  I got it cut this afternoon after you left."

"I sorta figured that, dude.  But it's not just the hair, which looks sexy
as hell, you fucker.  I mean, look at those fucking incredible clothes
you're wearing!  Shit, Chance, I thought you said you were gonna wear jeans
and a T-shirt?  We had a bet, remember?"

Chance unbuttoned his jacket, stripped it off, and tried to look innocent.
His perfectly-chiseled physique, clad in these supremely sexy clothes, was
already attracting leers and finger-pointing from most of the boys around
them.

"I did, Reed!  This is that COLT shirt you gave me and these are a pair o'
my old jeans!"

Reed was back to his dumb-founded look again.  How could Chance look so
incredibly hot in just jeans and a T?  Into his mind popped the description
of a young Englishwoman from a Henry James novel he'd read for English Lit
last year: "She looked more dressed, often, with fewer accessories, than
other women."  Fuck if that wasn't true of Chance: only an impossibly
gorgeous young hunk like him could show up every other GQ wanna-be in the
club wearing just jeans and a T.  But what, how . . .

"What'd you do, man, sit in a hot tub all afternoon to get those clothes to
shrink-wrap onto your body?"

"Nah," Chance laughed.  His face settled into a broad beam: he knew he had
won their bet; he could just feel Reed's lips playing up and down on his
hard dick later tonight as they settled up.  And he knew Reed could, too.
"I think they just fit me a little better than maybe you thought they
would.  You know, my momma always said I had a good body for clothes.
'Anything looks good on you,' she always used to tell me."

Suddenly, two cute, bubbly young boys ran up to them.

"You've GOT to let us know," they said, brazenly stroking Chance up and
down.  "I say Andrew MacKenzie, he says Gaultier.  WHO are you wearing,
dude?  You look un - fucking - believable!"

"It's Mai Tran," Chance said.  "She's got a shop right off campus.  'Tran's
Tailor.' She's really cool, check her out.  She knows how to dress hip
guys, believe me."

The two boys thanked Chance and backed away, wanted to savor his looks as
long as they could.  One of the boys whispered to the other, pointed, and
they laughed.

"So anything looks good on you, huh?" Reed sneered sarcastically.

But Reed was too blown away by how incredible his gorgeous stud lover
looked to be mad at how Chance'd out-foxed him.  Life with Chance was the
wildest of rides.  Well, if he's gonna be the hottest-looking guy in the
club, it's not too shabby that you're the guy he's going home with.  He
reached around and pulled Chance to him, kissing him hotly while his
fingers played in that tantalizing ass-crack.

"Let me fucking look at you," he said, misty-eyed at this boy's masculine
perfection, now clothed in the hottest of outfits.

"Your hair is incredible.  I can't tell you what a turn-on a buzz cut like
that is for me.  I want you to rub it all over my body later - my nipple,
my stomach, my thigh, my cock, everywhere.  Damn!"  He rubbed it sensuously
with both hands, while kissing Chance deeply.  Then he pulled back and eyed
Chance up and down, letting one hand play across those hard, ripe pec's,
brushing the stiff little nipples, standing out so clearly from a shirt
that looked like it was spray-painted on.  With his other hand, he
sensuously stroked those lean, cut abs, delightfully on view thanks to his
tailored T.  His fingers wandered down to feel the newly-groomed pubic
stubble, now teasingly shown off by his radically low-riding jeans.  He
pulled the waistband even lower.  "Damn, you shaved again down there, dude!
Shit, you look even hotter!"

Chance just stood there, a little embarrassed, but loving the feel of
Reed's fingers playing so close to the base of his cock.  He looked around
and saw how many guys around the bar were drinking in this show of hot,
sexy boy-lust.

"Damn, Chance, I thought I was supposed to be the male model.  You're about
the sexiest stud I have ever seen.  You're like the hottest gay porn come
to life.  Fuck this club, let's go straight home and get naked.  I am so
fucking hard for you, I can't stand it."

Chance pulled his lover close, rubbed his crotch into Reed's stiffness, and
cupped his lover's sensuous, leather-clad ass.  He leaned close and
whispered wetly in his ear, "Shit, man. you know you got me whenever you
want me.  But let's stay a little longer; I gotta do my part for the 'Alien
Culture' project remember?"

"'Alien Culture,' my Aunt Fanny!  This culture is about as alien to you as
a rim job.  Pretty fucking much 'Second-Nature Culture' by now, I'd say.
In fact, you just about own this club tonight.  You got more dudes drooling
after you than a twink in a prison yard.  All right, Junior, we'll stay.
At least as long as it takes me to pay off the bet."  He was wantonly
stroking Chance's long, thick cock, starkly outlined in those newly re-cut
jeans.  All eyes around them now were glued to these two young hunks
enjoying such hot foreplay.

Chance laughed and rubbed his lover's dick, straining against the tight
leather pants Reed wore.  Both boys became lost in the love and lust
coursing through them.  They kept stroking and moaning until Chance finally
snapped out of it.  "Hey, you weasel, you ain't even bought me my first
drink! Get me a beer, and then I wanna check this place out!"

"All right, stud.  Larson!" Reed called out, waving to the man tending bar,
and Chance watched as a tall, handsome, Nordic-looking guy walked over to
them.  He had short blonde hair, blue eyes, a square jaw, and rugged blonde
stubble on his tan face.  He wore a tight black sleeveless T that showed
off his well-developed upper body.  Like Reed, Larson had earrings in both
ears, and on both wrists were several thin metal bracelets.

"What can I get you boys?" the bartender asked with a smile.

"First, Larson, let me introduce my boyfriend.  Chance, meet Larson,
coolest bartender in town."

Larson smiled warmly as he shook Chance's hand.  They were each pleased
with the other's strong, warm grip.

"Chance is on the school wrestling team," Reed added.  This cause Larson's
eyes to widen.

"Really?  My boyfriend and I have had season tickets for the wrestling team
for years!  We follow you guys religiously.  We even road-tripped to state
last year to watch you guys. Fuck," he smiled dreamily, "what an
after-party in the hotel later with a couple guys from your team.  Damn,
was that ever hot!  Sure would love to repeat that again this year!"

Chance smiled, marveling once more at all the torrid male sex that went on,
right under most peoples' noses, just past their field of vision, a world
of intense male desire that had been previously unknown to him, unsuspected
even, all his life, but which he was now an excited part of.

"Shit," he grinned, flirting almost automatically, "why wait till state,
Larson?  I bet some of the guys would be up for partying any time.  I know
I sure would."

"OH, he's a wrestler, all right!" Larson laughed loudly.  "Fucking
horndogs, all of 'em!"  Then his eyes raked Chance up and down.  "Chance, I
don't mind telling you, I'm gonna enjoy watching you this season.  Fuck,
you're built!"

"Thanks," the young boy smiled.  "How about you and your boyfriend host our
first victory party?"

Larson laughed again, turned on by this sexually aggressive young stud.
"You got it, dude!  That's a promise I'll hold you to!  Bring Reed, he
needs to see how you boys party.  So, what's your pleasure?"

"I'll have another scotch and soda, and Chance will have a beer.  What
kind, Chance?"

"Uh, Grain Belt, I guess."  Suddenly, Chance's eyes glazed over, as a
reverie took shape in his mind.  He realized why that choice of beer popped
into his head.  It was his dad.  Each week, he'd come home with a case of
Grain Belt and a couple sixes of something imported.  He explained his
buying habits one day to Chance: "The cheap stuff's, that's the everyday
beer.  Us working men, we gotta drown our sorrows.  And then you drink the
good stuff on weekends, to remind you what you're workin' for."

But this involuntary memory wasn't through; it had a definite life of its
own that needed to play out, brought on, no doubt, he realized later as he
turned this reverie over in his mind, by the incredible carnival of
half-naked male flesh surrounding him.  First, he was reminded of all the
times in senior year when he and his friends would steal a beer or two from
his daddy's stash on the porch.  If the old man ever missed it, he never
said anything.  Chance suspected his father knew he was always a few beers
short each week, but probably figured Chance and his friends couldn't go
too crazy on two or three beers.  Fuck, Chance realized, those times with
the guys he hung out with, other high school athletes, were so charged with
homoerotic passion.  He could just see him and Dennis Sullivan wrestling
bare-chested in the barn after splitting a couple beers.  Damn, he thought
now, I bet each of us was waiting for the other to make the first move.

And then, his mind made one more click, and a long-forgotten memory came
crashing into his consciousness, with a force that left him breathless; a
memory he'd had locked away, forgotten for years, until the combination of
his father, the beer, and the shirtless boys in Sparta clicked the tumblers
just right to release it.  His mom was gone, he remembered, on a trip to
Aunt Sarah's.  Another of those endless trips she was always taking.  And
it seemed that every time she left, Uncle Bill would stay over.  At least
that's what Chance called him, though he found out somewhere around junior
high that Bill wasn't really Chance's uncle at all.  It was just a title of
respect that stuck out of habit as Chance grew older.

Bill was one of his dad's oldest friends.  He worked the farm with his
father.  They'd go on hunting and fishing trips together, and Bill and he
would drink beers together every weekend, some nights, too.  This one time,
though, in this memory that was currently flooding through Chance's
consciousness, there was a poker party his dad had planned since his mom
was away.  Chance must have been about 8 or 9 at the time.  Christ, it was
all so vivid now.  He had been put to bed by his father as Bill was
downstairs setting up the room for cards.  Chance was woken up from sleep
by something or other, a noise probably, and couldn't get back to bed, so
he'd come downstairs for a drink of water.  His dad and Uncle Bill and two
of the hired men, Tom Hanrahan and Pete Buckley, were in the living room.
Chance could see the memory now as vividly as if it were happening there in
the club.  All four men were naked.

"Your kid's awake, Paul!" Pete Buckley called from where he was, down on
the floor with Tom Hanrahan.

Chance could see his eight year-old self rub his eyes, trying to process a
confusing sight; a young boy's eyes, having just emerged from a dark
bedroom, still groggy, blinking from the bright light and loud strangeness
of the scene.

"Hey, son, you OK?" his father asked tenderly, coming over to comfort him
just like always, as if his nudity meant nothing at all.  "Us guys were
just playing strip poker.  You ever play that with your friends, Chance?
Every time you lose, you gotta take some clothes off.  Ain't none of us
guys did too well, I guess, cause just look at how naked we all are.  Come
on, son, let's get you some water so's you can get back to bed."

Chance had seen his father naked before, so that didn't really bother him.
But his younger self, Chance realized now, must have been unable to make
sense out of any of the other aspects of the scene, and so had just filed
it away as unintelligible.  But it sure made sense to Chance now, and the
realization hit him like a blow to the stomach.  But also, he realized, as
he turned it over in his mind, a kind of pleasant, excited warmth.  His dad
was gay!  Uncle Bill and he were lovers!  Of course!  Why had he never
suspected it?  All those trips together, the hours they'd spend alone in
the barn, the way Bill would move in during harvest and planting time and
when his mom was away.  Damn, Chance smiled, so his dad was a cool-ass
stud, too!  Like father, like fucking son!

As he kept turning that memory over, he realized that what the eight
year-old Chance had thought was Pete and Tom wrestling was no doubt the two
hired men 69'ing there on the floor.  The memory appeared in his mind now
so clearly, in fact, he could even see the glistening hard-ons both men
had.  In fact - holy shit - his father's hard, wet dick was dripping
pre-cum, he was sure of it now.  He could see the dripping tip as he walked
with his son from the kitchen up to his bedroom.  Bill must have been
tonguing his dad's cock all over right before they heard the boy coming
downstairs.  Chance grew hard as he let his mind dwell on this
now-treasured memory.  He was incredibly excited at discovering his
father's secret gay life.  It was as if his subconscious had been saving
this memory for him for years, until he was ready for it.  And he sure was
ready for it now.  It came to him like a lovely, unexpected present.  How
fucking hot his father was!  Damn, now he really wanted to bring Reed home
for Thanksgiving.  Show his dad how much times and morals had changed, how
young guys didn't have to hide their love for each other in secret any
more.  Fuck, maybe he and Reed and Dad and Bill could play a game of strip
poker!

Reed snapped him out of his reverie.

"I'm not holding this forever, dude.  Earth to Chance.  Do you read me?"

"Sorry," Chance grinned sheepishly, shaking his head, "I was miles away.
Hey, Reed, gimme the camera.  I'm gonna wander around for a while and take
some pictures.  You got such great photos for your part of this 'alien
culture' thing.  I wanna get some hot shots, too.  I'll be back in a bit,
and then we can dance a little, OK?"

"All right, lover," said Reed, as he handed over the camera he had on the
bar, next to his keys and wallet.  "I'm gonna kick back, sip scotch, and
just groove on seeing you here, and watch everyone stare at you, of course.
Fuck, cowboy, do you ever look hot!  I'm ready to pay off that bet any
time, by the way. . . . WITH INTEREST!" he called out, as Chance moved
through the throng of beautiful men.  Reed was so in love with that boy, so
happy to share this part of his life with him.

Before he took any pictures, Chance wandered through the club, agog at the
spectacular display of male beauty.  The club itself, Chance noted, was
sort of like the American Legion hall back home: a mirror-backed bar,
tables around it, a dance floor, and a game area off to the side.  Except
Sparta was a cool, hip, gay variant: beautifully lit in neon and twinkling
lights, and on the three walls bordering the dance floor were huge
cartoonish murals of bare-chested Greek warriors.  The music, too, was
different than what he was used to: instead of juke-box country, there was
an incredible sound-system blasting this throbbing style of dance music
unfamiliar to Chance but which he dug a lot.

But the main difference between this club and the Yellow Branch Legion
hall, of course, was the clientele.  Chance's brain felt like it had been
submerged in a nice warm bubble bath as he walked around and eyed all the
gorgeous, mostly shirtless men in the club.  It was the sexiest space he'd
ever been in.  Tall, short, thin, beefy, all races, ages ranging from 18 to
maybe 40-something, and almost all incredibly handsome and very well-built.
Most wore just jeans, some in leather pants, like Reed, and a couple pairs
of dancers had stripped down to jocks.  Fuck, was all Chance could think.
He started snapping pictures of the hottest-looking guys he could find.
After a few minutes he started to notice how some of the guys were wearing
this really cool thing: these X-shaped leather straps criss-crossing their
torso's.  Chance thought it looked too fucking cool; he thought he would
look great in one.  Some even had leather arm-bands, too, which seemed to
accentuate their biceps.

A dreamy lust-daze settled in over Chance: he strolled through the club
like an adult kid in an adult candy shop, not being able to decide what
looked tastiest.  Adding to the buzz was that he knew every guy in there
was like him - gay and horny as fuck.  He could just about inhale the lust
in the air.  It was so cool to be in a space like this; it felt like an
island, a haven.  He felt totally comfortable here.  In the world outside
Sparta these past few days, he'd always wonder when he saw a hot-looking
guy: is he?  Here, there was no wondering.  Plus, he could scope out guys
to his heart's content, not having to worry about pissing some straight
dude off.  Shit, other guys sure were scoping him.

And not just scoping. He smiled as he felt anonymous hands rub his abs or
pecs or shoulders, stroke his ass, or slide fingers under the waistband of
his jeans, either in front or back, to poke around in his crack or cop a
feel of his dick. Increasingly, he realized, the seductive ass-cleavage Mai
had designed for him was driving every boy in this club nuts.  The top of
his two luscious buttocks were so tantalizingly revealed now by his jeans'
ultra-low cut, boldly showing off that perfect, deeply etched V-groove,
pointing to the promise of paradise that lay waiting beneath that denim.
Some guys would stop him and let their fingers dwell while they spit corny
game: "Damn, I see Olympus is short one god tonight," shit like that.
Chance was giddily buzzed and flattered.  In many cases he returned the
touch, but then smiled, offered a quick peck, and explained that his
boyfriend was here with him.  Mock-sad pouts and then smiles as he drifted
off.

Chance couldn't help but think of the library research he was working on
earlier that afternoon.  This was Sparta, all right.  In ancient Sparta,
they segregated the boys in barracks for years, from age 7 to about 30.
Such close proximity meant the boys were naturally drawn to each other;
homosexuality was built right into the culture.  Taking a male lover was
encouraged, as the Spartans thought emotionally attached soldiers made
better fighters.  This nightclub was like a modern version of what those
boys' barracks must have been like, with homoerotic passion and desire
given free rein and encouragement to flourish; boys, having worked their
bodies to perfection, showing them off to each other, arousing each other,
enflaming a lust that would be wonderfully satisfied.  So Chance wandered
through this modern Sparta, seeing his own natural desires thrown into such
high relief.  Permeating this swirling, glorious scene of male perfection,
pumping through it like the throbbing bass-line of the booming music - or,
better, like steadily shooting loads of rich, thick cum - was raw masculine
desire.  These finely-tuned bodies were being shown off out of the primal
need to fuck or be fucked or both.  It was a scene of fevered male lust, as
thick with intense heat as a sauna in hell.  It was an environment Chance
understood completely.  He'd taken enough pictures for now; he had to find
Reed.

On his way back towards the bar, he saw a guy standing alone by the pool
tables he thought he recognized.  He got a little closer, and then he was
sure of it.  It was Curtis Somebody or Somebody Curtis, a freshman football
player he'd met during an all-sports mixer the first week of classes.  This
guy was big, built, and beautiful.  Figured he'd be hanging out here; he
fit right in.  As Chance neared him, he really dug the kid's look: jeans
that hugged his beefy thighs and massive calves very nicely, a faded biker
jacket zipped open to show brawny pecs tightly covered by a thin
wife-beater.  The kid was nicely groomed, too: he had a kind of young gay
marine high-and-tight blonde flattop, showing off the sexy curves of his
skull, and a very carefully trimmed thin goatee.  Chance could just picture
rubbing his hands all over that nicely buzzed head, stroking back and forth
across that crew cut, while his dick pumped in and out of that cute goateed
mouth.  He figured he'd walk over and say hello; always nice to hook up
with another hot young gay jock.

CJ Curtis, meanwhile, was nervous as hell.  He had arrived at the club
about twenty minutes ago, after weeks of working up the nerve to come.  He
had just downed his second beer, hoping to calm his jitters.  CJ was a boy
who started realizing he was gay in high school - probably earlier, if you
came right down to it - after finally admitting to himself how fucking
aroused he was by men.  He lived for his times in the locker room, being
able to drink in naked male flesh.  It would feed the endless jack-off
sessions later in his bedroom, imagining all those dicks he'd memorized
pumping his hard, hungry ass.

His other undeniable clue, besides how much guys' bodies turned him on, and
the thought of sex with them, was his waning interest the sex he was
actually having with the cute girls drawn to him.  He'd never had problems
getting girls; no popular, good-looking, high school football jock ever
does.  But since the end of junior year the sex had been unsatisfying,
empty, a dull, dutiful version of the hot, physical action he dreamed
about.  The only thing that got him off about heterosexual sex was
double-dating with another hot football player, and winding up somewhere
where, the two couples having sloppy young sex together, he could watch the
other boy's naked body: a beautiful, firm ass; a ripped set of abs; a great
pair of biceps; or a nice hard young boy-cock as it was sucked by some
drunk girl trying to give head, or while that firm butt pumped it in and
out of some girl's pussy, or - best of all - as it shot load after load all
over some girl's face or tits.  At this point, he never dated anymore
unless it was a foursome.  Those moments, as satisfying as they were, were
torture, too, cause he ached to dump the girl he was with and get with the
guy.

The summer before he left home for school he bought his first gay porn mag;
fuck, did that ever take a lot of nerve, hands shaking like shit as he paid
for it.  He was glad the clerk didn't say anything, or he might have died
as he tried to answer in a trembling, cracked voice.  He pored over that
magazine constantly, reading it cover to cover, trying to learn about his
desires from people who were experienced in them.  And then at college,
having a computer, all those nights in his dorm room alone, after his
roommate left for the evening, learning to navigate through all the gay
porn on the net, discovering the hottest shit imaginable.  Fuck, the seed
he'd been spilling this past month!

He'd found out about this gay club through a local chat room, thought for a
while about dropping by, just to see what might happen, but he'd been too
scared.  He was panicky about any of his teammates finding out he was gay:
it would be humiliating to be teased and insulted for these urges he
couldn't control.  But uncontrollable they were, and so his dick won out at
last over his brain.  As wrong as this might be, he had to take his first
halting step into gay public culture.  He had to see.  He had to start
building his real identity.  It couldn't wait any longer.

So naturally, his heart sunk and his nerves seemed to scream, as he watched
a kid he knew from school - a fellow athlete, yet - walk towards him.
Fuck, his doom had come swift as shit, that's for sure.  Damn, his heart
was racing ridiculously fast as the boy - Chance? was that his name? -
approached.  But even through his mounting hysteria, he could appreciate
that the boy coming over was so fucking beautiful.  He'd seen this kid once
before, at the fall sports mixer - fuck, that was about the best party CJ
had ever been to: prime jock beef as far as his leering eyes could see.  CJ
had had a ball.  And he remembered this Chance dude, all right; it was
pretty hard not to.  He and this stud had chatted for a long time as they
slammed down beers from the keg.  CJ had tried to drop subtle hints, make
small but telling gestures, cautiously flirting with the boy, but it was
just too delicate a dance for a novice - hovering over it was a dark cloud
out of which could strike at any moment a sudden bolt like, "What are you,
some kind of fucking fag??!!"  And, fuck, look at this kid tonight; shit,
he is so fucking hot.  Christ, what a dick on this boy, you could see it
perfectly outlined in his jeans (CJ always checked out guys' packages).  He
swallowed hard and tried to get control over himself.  What the fuck was he
gonna say?

"Hey, dude!  What's up?" Chance said warmly, extending a hand.  As they
shook, Chance grabbed him around the shoulders with his other hand and gave
him one of those hip guy hugs, making sure to "casually" press his cock
against one of CJ's rock-solid thighs.  "Chance Taylor, you remember me?
From that sports party thing in August?"

"Sure, man," CJ said nervously, buzzing from the feel of this stud's thick
cock against his leg.

"Shit, sorry, dude, but I forget your name.  Curtis?"

"CJ.  CJ Curtis.  Close," the young football jock laughed nervously, dying
inside.

"CJ, fuck yeah.  Good to see you, man!  Cool fucking place, huh?  You come
here a lot?"

"Naw, man.  No.  Not me," CJ stammered.  "I was just walkin' back to campus
from the library downtown, and I really just stopped into the first bar I
saw to grab a cold one - you know, wind down, maybe shoot some pool."

"Well, fuck, dude," Chance laughed at the thought of a straight stud
wandering into a place like this, "do you realize you picked about the
gayest gay club in the city to wander into?  That's pretty fuckin' amusin'!
I came with my boyfriend.  He's been anxious to show me this scene, and
fuck, I gotta say, I totally dig it.  Never saw so many hot guys in one
place before."

"Your boyfriend?"  CJ was stunned.  "Uh, fuck, man, I didn't know you were
gay."

"Neither did I, until I met Reed.  Fuck, man, am I ever happy.  Reed keeps
me well-fucked and well-loved, you know what I mean?  Never had it so
good."

Chance kinda scoped out CJ a little. Shit, he thought, this guy sure as
hell looks gay.  He had that Tom of Finland vibe goin' on with his hair and
clothes.  Oh well.

"Too bad you ain't into guys, dude," Chance added, "cause a fine-ass jock
stud like you could do some serious damage in a place like this, I dare
say.  'Spect you could have all the dick you could handle, if you was into
it."

CJ was starting to sweat now.  It was like his mind was shorting out.  His
desperate attempt to keep his secret, pushed up against this incredibly
beautiful jock-stud turn-on in front of him, so casual about being gay, and
holding out the promise of the kind of sex that CJ ached for with an ache
that threatened to shake his body apart if it wasn't soon satisfied - it
was too much too handle.  Add to it was a non-stop kaleidoscope of the most
beautiful men he had ever seen.  His circuits shorted; he suffered a total
existential blow-out.  He was able to stammer out just a few sounds before
he blew.

"I - You - I - ," and then he collapsed in a heavy, silent sob - his
emotional, spiritual, intellectual, physical, and sexual circuits all
blown.  Chance put his arm around him immediately.

"Dude!  You OK?  What's wrong, man?"

CJ turned and gave Chance a look that almost frightened the boy.  It was
the kind of look a desperate mother might give if they told her they were
taking her children away for ever.  CJ couldn't stand it any more.  He was
ready to surrender.  Let them ridicule him all they wanted, ride him off
the team, chase him back to his hometown; let word of this get back to his
parents.  He didn't care anymore.  He had to talk to someone.  He had to
let someone know the real score.  His secret was eating him alive.

"Chance," he sobbed quietly, "aw Chance, aw fuck.  Damn it.  I'm just, aw
shit, man.  Can I talk to you?" he asked, with a look only a total bastard
could refuse.

"Dude," Chance said, so sweetly, so caringly, still holding him around the
shoulder, "of course, man.  CJ, what is it?  What's up, man?"

"Fuck, Chance, I think I'm gay, too.  I mean, like, really, I know I am."

Chance smiled tenderly, relived it wasn't a brain aneurism or something,
"Shit, man.  Aw fuck, CJ, don't worry.  Shit, that's nothin' bad!  Nothin'
to cry about!  Fuck, man, you'll handle this.  I did.  It's cool, trust me!
You'll have a wonderful life, dude, I swear!"

"But, damn, Chance, what if the team finds out?  My parents?"

"The team?  Fuck, dude, get a clue.  Half my wrestling team is gay.  I bet
half the football team is, too.  Fuck, man, I'm just startin' to realize
why a lot of guys get into sports - basically it's cause a lot of guys get
into sports, that's why.  I mean, dude, think about it.  What attracted you
to sports, I bet, was what, at some level, the same level, attracted me.  A
heavy-duty desire to be around other good-lookin' guys.  To like, hang out
with men."

"Half the fucking wrestling team?  Chance, are you serious?"

"Fuck, yes, dude," Chance smiled. "Oh wait," he remembered Gar, "I take it
back, more than half.  And fuck, son, I must say, we've had some hot
fuckin' times in the shower, believe me."

"Aw shit, Chance.  I dream about shit like that.  I drive myself crazy
jackin' off, fantasizin' about just that kinda shit!  It's like ninety
percent of my waking day is spent thinkin' about sex with dudes!  Fuck,
man," CJ laughed now, between subsiding sobs, "I blow about three hours a
day surfing gay porn."

"Damn, boy, we gotta get you laid!"

Chance brought his hand up to trace this beautiful, sweet, sad, vulnerable
boy's face - his lips, his goatee, the sexy shaved side of his head.  CJ
was almost melting with warm, newly released desire.

"Fuck," Chance added, "I'd volunteer for the job myself if I wasn't here
with my boyfriend.  But I'll take a fuckin' rain check."

CJ brought his hand up to feel Chance's strong, sexily stubbled jaw, trace
over his own gorgeous buzz cut, then he brought both hands down to rub
Chance's beautifully outlined chest, daring to touch those hard, alluring
nipples.

"Oh fuck, dude, I could do this all night!  This is the kinda shit I dream
about."

Both boys were hard as hell.  Chance bent closer and gave CJ a tender kiss
on the side of his cheek.  That kiss, the electric thrill of his first kiss
from another man - the feel of hard, full lips; the stubbly, coarse beard
of another passionate boy; the feel of Chance's big, strong fingers gently
tracing his jaw and ear - it tripped a switch in CJ.  He grabbed Chance by
that sexy shaved head of his, held his head still, and kissed him on the
lips, hungrily, hotly, with the force of a minor volcanic eruption.  He
started sucking, kissing, tonguing, rubbing his own smooth skin against
Chance's light beard, his hard jock jaw against Chance's, sending off
sparks off smoldering boy-lust.  His hands pawed Chance's ripe, young body
with the clumsy honesty of a finally-admitted desire.  He worked one
massive pec, not tentatively now as before, but hard and rough, while his
other hand found the boy's crotch, grabbing another guy's dick for the
first time in his life.  His lust now was a conflagration; it felt to
Chance like the heat of this boy's long-simmering passion was sucking the
very air out of his lungs.  He had to break their clinch before he either
shot off in his jeans or died of suffocation.

"Damn, son!" he gasped, half-grinning at the big shy stud across from him
gone suddenly wild.  "We DEFINITELY gotta get you laid before you fuckin'
explode!"

"What's this about gettin' laid?" a voice asked behind him.

Chance spun around to see Reed standing there with a smirk.

"Can't leave you alone for ten minutes, I see, before you start hookin' up
with some sexy-ass stud."

Chance laughed nervously.  "Aw fuck, Reed, it ain't what you think.  Reed,
this is CJ, he's on the football team, and he really needs to get laid.
CJ, my boyfriend, Reed."

The two shook hands.  Reed studied his features, then said, "Damn, stud,
unless you have some weird-ass skin disease I can't see, I shouldn't think
you'd have to do much more than breathe to get laid around here."

Chance looked at CJ.  "Can I tell him?" he asked.

"Sure," CJ shrugged, smiling a little shyly, but pleased as fuck that the
storm-tossed boat of his life now had land definitely within sight.

"Ya see, CJ's sorta what I was a week ago.  Only he KNOWS he's gay.  But
he's just as inexperienced, just as frustrated."

Reed laughed.  "CJ, look around.  Take your pick, dude.  Blonde?  Redhead?
Black?  Asian?  White?  Leather?  How about my friend the bartender?  He's
hot.  This ain't gonna be hard, man, believe me.  It's just a matter of
making your mind up."

CJ laughed, "Damn, you guys make it sound so easy.  So why the fuck have I
been goin' outta my mind for the past couple years?"

"Cause you ain't met us!" Chance laughed.

"CJ," Reed said, "let me make a suggestion: why not get your ass out on the
dance floor, and in about - oh, I don't know - say, ten seconds, you're
gonna have five offers of fairly hardcore sex, I guarantee it."

The dance floor gave Chance an even better idea.

"Hey, Reed, where does the DJ hang out?"

Reed pointed to a window in the wall Chance hadn't seen earlier.

"That's the DJ booth up there.  Why?"

"How do you get up into it?" Chance asked.

"See the mural of the hunk with the spear kissing the hunk with the
shield?"

"Yeah."

"Can you make out a door in the spear-hunk's thigh?"

Chance stared and then saw it; it was painted the same fleshy color as the
Greek warrior's thigh, so it was hard to make out in the neon darkness.

"Come on, you guys.  Let's go see Mr. DJ."

"Chance, Chance, whoa, whoa, chill, cowboy, chill.  I mean, are you nuts?
You can't just go over and talk with the DJ.  That's fucking DJ 2Tronic
spinning tonight.  He's the hottest fucking DJ in town.  This guy does
remixes of famous rap and r-n-b songs.  People all over the fucking world
buy his mixes!  And anyway, even if he would give you the time of day,
which he won't, believe me - whaddya think this is, like goin' to Oz to get
the Wizard to give CJ a man?  Believe me, junior, 2Tronic ain't got time
for this shit."

"CJ, meet my boyfriend, Mr. Fucking Know-It-All.  Reed, would you care to
up that bet I already won from you?  Make it double or nothin' or
somethin'?"

"What, you mean two blowjobs I'd owe you?"

"Or somethin," Chance smiled slyly.

"Oh, hell no.  I'm cuttin my losses.  But I will enjoy seein' you get your
cute little ass bounced the fuck out of the DJ booth.  That'll be amusing
as shit.  I'm way up for that."

"OK, Nasty McNasterson, let's go."  By this time, Chance was so fucking hot
to get laid himself, he was thinking with his libido.  But he had a pretty
good idea his plan would work and CJ would get a fine fucking introduction
to boy-sex.

They were about ten feet from the door to the DJ booth when it suddenly
burst open and Tou stood there yelling, "Chance!  Good to see you, man.  I
been lookin' for you!"

"Tou, man," Chance said, as the two sexy boys had a very physical embrace.
Reed, meanwhile, went from being stunned to mad to realizing that nothing
Chance ever did for the rest of his life - nothing that concerned sex, that
is - could possibly surprise him.  He was jealous as hell as he watched his
lover being felt up by that incredibly hot Asian boy, the king of local
DJ's, dressed so damn sexy in an old, too-big pair of 1940s thrift store
pants, suspenders, and the top band of a jockstrap showing.  His
beautifully lean, muscular chest was bare, and currently getting a pectoral
massage from Chance as they continued kissing.

When the two boys finally came up for air, Chance turned his shit-eating
grin towards Reed.  "Tou, my boyfriend Reed, and CJ, a friend from school I
thought you might like to meet."

Tou nodded warmly to Reed, then shook his hand, saying, "You about the
luckiest guy on earth, you know."

"Tell me about it," Reed laughed, adding, "Shit, man, a pleasure to meet
you.  You're about the greatest DJ I've ever heard."

"Thanks," said Tou.  Then turning back to Chance, looking him up and down,
he smiled,. "So, Mai make you nice sexy clothes for 'da club,' huh?"

"What can I say," Chance laughed, as he put his arms out and slowly turned,
letting Tou see Mai's wonderful magic.

Tou did the ass-cleavage poke, laughed, and then turned to feast his eyes
on the big beefy boy named CJ.

"You friend of Chance's, huh?" Tou asked, with a definite leer in his
voice.

"Yeah," CJ said shyly, totally turned on by this hot Asian stud, as well as
the cool young gay camaraderie.  Tou's longish black hair and sleekly
muscled chest, with that teasing glimpse of jockstrap covering his luscious
lean abs, had CJ very fucking hard.

"Chance," Tou asked, "all your friends as beautiful as you?"

"What can I say?  Hey, Tou, I got a question," and Chance reached in to
whisper something to Tou, while Reed and CJ stood there, horny as hell -
Reed for his utterly unpredictable stud of a boyfriend, and CJ for this
Asian sex god he'd just met.

As Tou listened to Chance, he broke out in a wide grin, then kissed Chance
and stroked his ass.

"Follow me!" he said and turned back through the door and up the stairs.

"Come on, Tou's gonna show us where he plays music," Chance said, flushed
with excitement cause he knew what was coming.

Once up the stairs, they entered a narrow room filled with shelves and
crates of records.  Plus, on a long counter, were 4 turntables, a huge
console of switches, and a couple of laptops.  The room itself was lit with
a red light, carpeted, and there were throw pillows all over.

A record was coming to an end.  In a flash, moving at blurry speed, Tou put
on a set of headphones, dropped a needle onto one of the other turntables,
which had a record already spinning on it, took the just-played record off,
dug in a crate for another, slapped it on, then with one hand he moved the
new record back and forth, and with the other flipped a switch on and off.
The sound was totally cool.  All three of Tou's visitors were totally
impressed.

"Damn," Reed called out, "that's so damn cool.  Great beat, man!  Your
scratching ins incredible!"

Tou couldn't resist showing off more.  His middle finger flipped the switch
back and forth fast, with a kind of funky rhythm.  His other hand played on
the record in the same jerky, percussive movement.  Then he let one record
play, took the other off, got a new one, dropped the needle, and suddenly a
whole new groove came out, taking the music to a whole other level.  Even
up here, closed off, the boys could hear the crowd go wild.  Tou had
brought the beat up to an even higher, wilder zone.  Reed started rocking
with Chance.  Soon the two of them were in their own little dance world, as
Chance held Reed's hips and the two swayed and kissed.  CJ was very
envious, but he loved that his true destiny, a gay life, was finally
unrolling before him.  Tou turned to him and motioned with his head for the
footballer to come next to him.

When CJ pulled up close, Tou grabbed him by the ass and kissed him hard on
the mouth.  CJ let out a swoony, muffled moan.  His lips, feeling a very
insistent tongue, surrendered immediately.  The two boys went wild
caressing each other's tongues.  CJ by now had begun stroking Tou's hips,
working up to that beautiful chest.

"Wait," Tou snapped quickly, breaking the clench.  He did a few mouse
clicks, flipped another switch on the console, and then turned back to CJ.

"Pre-recorded mix, for when I take breaks.  It's a great fucking time to
take a break, no?  I'm horny as hell, and you're too fucking hot."

CJ was in heaven.  He could feel his dick throb expectantly, insistently.

"Aw, shit, man, you are so fucking gorgeous," he moaned, all hoarse with
the thought of his first actual dream-sex with another boy.

Tou ripped CJ's jacket up and then pressed his crotch into the big, massive
thighs of this beefy young muscle-stud.  He stroked those huge biceps, then
started licking them.  Then he trailed down with his tongue to suck CJ's
nipples, right through his wife-beater.  Tou had been thinking about sex
all afternoon, ever since his fabulous fuck session with Chance.  And now,
suddenly, his prayers were answered, with a muscle-boy even bigger than
Chance.  Damn, just how he liked them.  All-American Studs.

CJ was in ecstasy.  His boat had finally landed; he'd set foot on Paradise
Island, where the natives were all men and all beautiful.  This Asian
beauty's big thick lips on his nipples gave him the best feeling he'd ever
had in his life.

"Oh man," he moaned, his dick dripping like a faucet, "that's so fucking
fine."

He had dared to flip down Tou's suspenders, which dropped to the floor
along with his trousers, leaving the lean stud in just a jock.  CJ's
delighted hands were having a field day, wandering over hard male flesh for
the first time in their life.  As Tou started chewing on his nipples and
playing hard in his ass crack, CJ moved from Tou's lean, luscious arms down
to the straps tightly covering his ass.  Moving his fingers under those
straps, he played over the firm globes of a boy's ass for the first time.
The utter joy of erotic delirium was overwhelming him.

"I'm gonna cum soon, man," he cried weakly.

Tou was off him in a shot.

"Not yet!  Wait!"

First he ripped the boy's wife-beater off, exposing a huge expanse of hard,
well-worked lineman torso.  His gaze lingered on the almost smooth chest,
with those massive, flat pecs, each dotted by a sweet little coin-sized
nipple.  CJ's abs were thick and cut.  Tou slid his hand over them.  Fuck,
what a hard, meaty slab.

CJ watched as that beautiful Asian face, half-hidden by Tou's long black
hair, stared at his bulging crotch.  Then those fingers, which had flown
over switches and turntables a moment earlier, began to fly over CJ's
jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down in a minute.

"Fuck, you are so fucking hot!" Tou cried, as he saw that CJ, too, was
wearing a jock.  He stared at those huge tree-trunk thighs, each gigantic
muscle beautifully carved.  And the jock pouch showed a huge wet stain at
the tip of what looked to be seven inches of tightly packed boy-meat.

Tou reached down to pull off CJ's shoes, slip off his jeans, and then suck
at the already-wet mesh of the boy's jock.

"OH FUCK YEAH!!" CJ cried, as his hands gratefully held the back of Tou's
head, fingers playing in the soft, black sheen of his long hair.  Another
dude's lips on his cock for the first time?  OH FUCK!  No wonder he'd
dreamed about this for so long: it turned out to be utter bliss.

By this time, Reed and Chance were also naked.  They had been fooling
around, kissing and playing with each other's dicks, but CJ's excited moan
brought them over to check things out, to help celebrate CJ's baptism into
the longed-for joy of boy-on-boy sex.  Reed got down to help Tou lick and
suck at the big boy's pouch.  Chance put an arm around CJ and rubbed his
pecs softly, tweaking a nipple as the boys fell into the tender kisses of
male intimacy.

Once Chance was done with the last few light, butterfly kisses of his new
fuck buddy's boyish, eminently kissable face, CJ looked at him with a look
of sweet, tender affection.  "Thanks, man," he whispered.  It was all he
needed to whisper.  His life had finally started, thanks to this wonderful
new friend.

Chance smiled, and went back to kissing around that cute goateed mouth,
rubbing his face against CJ's, and letting his hands play over that cool
butch haircut.  Tou and Reed, meanwhile, had freed CJ's dick and were
sucking on it for real: Tou on the tip and shaft, Reed lapping and sucking
his sweet, tight ballsac.  Every minute or so, Tou and Reed would fall into
a heavy-duty kiss themselves.  Then back to CJ's cock.  It was wet, boyish
eroticism.

As his head turned this way and that, in a kind of slow, ecstatic whirl of
lust, CJ looked down for a second and saw Chance's incredible cock for the
first time.  Huge, thick, veiny, uncut, dripping - it was the kind of cock
CJ jacked off to over and over on the internet every night.  And now, here
was one in the achingly lovely flesh.  His hands went for it immediately.
The first feel of another guy's naked dick, especially one this hot,
combined with the two hot boys working over his cock and balls in
indescribable lusciousness, brought him way over the edge.

"Fuck, dudes, I'm shooting.  Aw, how fucking WONDERFUL!" he cried, as he
began to pump load after load of thick, pearly-white cream.  Tou and Reed
laughed as CJ drenched them.  He kept pumping!  Seven, now eight loads!
With each load, CJ would cry, "OH YEAH!!" till finally, after the side of
Tou's face looked like a glazed donut, he stopped. He watched in
fascination as Reed and Tou licked his cream off each other's faces, then
the two boys rose.  Tou hugged the big jock, and when CJ gave him the most
grateful kiss of his young life, he thrilled to feel Tou's tongue enter his
mouth with a dribbly load of his own cum.  CJ drank it gratefully, ecstatic
to share in what had become another rite in this sacred, soul-saving
liturgy.

Reed and Chance couldn't wait to get their hands on each other.  Reed
pulled Chance down on the floor, and they got into a 69 position, with Reed
eating Chance's ass, getting him ready for the fuck he knew his lover
wanted; and Chance, delighted to feel what was in store, slicking up Reed's
dick with his eager, lapping tongue.

CJ and Tou were still kissing madly, feeling each other's hard young
bodies.  When CJ came up for air, he and Tou watched Chance and Reed.

"Fuck, you two, you look so damn hot!" CJ cried.  "Shit, eat that
jock-stud's hole, Reed!  Damn, this is gettin' me so fuckin' hard again!"

He and Tou were jacking each other slowly as they watched those beautiful
boys go at it.  They went back to kissing, CJ delirious with the new vistas
of pleasure that had gloriously unfolded for him.  His dick, he felt, was
jutting out hard and twitchy.  He looked down at Tou's luscious body: he
was bigger and more powerful than he seemed at first - like a big jungle
cat, he rippled with a lean sleekness.  CJ felt for Tou's dick.  It was
hard, too.  It curved upwards.  CJ just wanted to feel it, play with it,
stroke it.  He cupped the boy's big balls, reached under to tickle that
spot that he knew, from years spent perfecting masturbation, was so
sensitive.  Then he stroked Tou's proud young cock up and down, as if
paying it tribute.  Fuck, he wondered, what would this feel like in his
ass?  He played with his own ass practically every night.  It was so damn
sensitive, so hot and hungry.  He'd read porn stories and finger himself,
aching for the feel of a sweet, stiff prick working over his tender jock
hole.

As if Chance and Reed were telepathic, he watched in hot fascination as
Reed, finished working over Chance's smooth shaved hole, was feeding him
his dick slowly.  The look on Chance's face was utter bliss.  These boys
needed a fuck as bad as CJ did.

"OH YEAH, man!  Fuck me, Reed!  I need this so fucking bad!" Chance cried,
in the sublime throes of hard, young boy-lust.

CJ thought his own stiff prick would shoot a load right there, as he
watched that beautiful, tan dick of Reed's slowly ease into the
stretched-out hole between Chance's hard ass-cheeks.  Oh shit did that look
hot.  CJ could just feel a nice thick cock sinking into his own hole, while
he laid back like Chance, in paradise, as his year's-long itch was finally
scratched.  Soon, Reed was pistoning his lover in slow, sure, sexy
movements.  Both boys' beautifully muscled bodies were rippling in a kind
of orchestrated ballet of male eroticism.  Reed's hand jacked Chance's big
cock slowly, another hand played over his ripped eight-pack.  Then Reed
pushed in hard, all the way, and bent down to give Chance a deep soul-kiss.

CJ looked at his dick, then at Tou's.  They were both dripping. He bent in
and whispered to the Asian beauty.

"Fuck, man.  Would you do that to me?  Fuck, would I like to feel your
sweet dick riding my ass like that.  Aw shit, that looks hot!"

Tou lit up.  He gave CJ a kiss and then gently pushed him down near the two
rutting stallions.  Again, moving with liquid speed, Tou was down in CJ's
big, beefy ass, licking and lapping and slurping - the brawny lineman's
squeals and moans music to his ears.  He licked, sucked, poked and prodded
around that crack, loving the musky, metallic odor and taste of this big
jock's virgin hole.  The scraggly blonde hairs lining his crack gave his
tongue a nice sexy tingle.  CJ felt like he was floating in space.  The
music Tou was playing had become a heavy, throbbing, techno thing, and CJ's
body was dissolving into it.  The throb of the beat made him anticipate the
pulse of Tou's dick as it would pound his ass.  He squirmed in anticipatory
pleasure.

"FUCK!" he yelled, as loudly as he could, and Tou just smiled, working him
open.

CJ realized he wanted this kind of intense, soul-satisfying sex all the
time now.  The floodgates were open.  He wanted sex with boys as often as
possible; it was too fucking fine.  Even better than he'd dreamed.  He
would ask Chance how he came out to his friends and teammates, and then he
would do it, too.  Because he wanted to stroll around campus from now on,
ready to fuck or be fucked by any hot young jock who was interested.  He
was easing into his natural gayness like a wonderful suit of clothes that
fit him so damn comfortably.  Tou had a finger in his crack - how
wonderful! - now two!  CJ could feel himself relaxing, pliant, opening up
to draw in that luscious boy-cock.

"You ready, big boy, for a first-class fuck?"

"OH HELL YEAH!!" CJ whooped.  "Ride me, man!  Fuck this big, virgin
jock-ass!  Take my cherry, man!  Fuck me as hard as you fucking can!  Fuck,
I love this!"

Tou was thrilled by this eager, beautiful stud.  He held his big, dripping
dick, eased his cocktip into that big stud's sweet pucker, and, bending
down to give CJ a gentle kiss, started feeding him his first taste of
boy-meat.

CJ couldn't believe it.  The soft spongy head worked its way in.  His
sphincter was a little tight, but almost immediately eased open to take in
the pleasure-rod CJ had dreamed about for-fucking-ever, it seemed.  The
feel of that stiff, wet throbbing flesh as it slid into his eager hole was
unbelievable, un forgettable.  His natural instincts took over and he
pressed his ass back on it, welcoming it in.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good!" Tou cried.  "What a sweet, tight jock
hole!  You want more dick?"

"FUCK YEAH!!  Fill me, Tou, with that hard Asian cock!  Make me a real boy!
Ride me, man!  And cum in me.  I wanna feel your sweet spunk fill up my
virgin ass!"

Tou was now all the way in.  CJ could feel Tou's bristly pubic hairs right
under his balls.  Aw shit, this was ever fucking sex!  He could kiss
Chance.  Finally, man!  Finally!  He clenched his strong ass muscles hard
on the long, thick length of hot Asian dick in him, as if he'd never let it
out.  He had it, at long last, and now he'd never lose it!

"Let's fuck, man.  OK?"

"Shit, yeah!  I wanna hella fuck, Tou!"

He lay back and let Tou work his ass expertly.  Soon his own hips were
catching the rhythm, gliding back over that slick, wondrous hardness
pumping into him, shifting a little, moving here and there, so Tou's dick
could hit him just right, just where it felt best.  Suddenly, sheer
electric pleasure flooded him.  Tou had hit something incredible.

"OH FUCK YES!!  THERE!! Keep hitting that spot, man!"

He looked up at the sweaty face smiling down at him.  Tou looked like some
anime prince, concentrating on an ultimate, life-or-death mission.  His
lean, muscular torso was hunched over him as he pumped again and again into
CJ's needy hole.  He reached down to jack his own hard, dripping dick, but
Tou pushed his hands away and did it for him.  Those fluid fingers seemed
to be everywhere, dancing like lightning over his cock-tip, shaft, balls,
even abs.  CJ was on a bliss ride he hoped would never end.  I wanna die
like this, was all he could think.

"Oh Tou," he panted, "this is the greatest sex of my life.  The ONLY
fucking sex of my life!  Fuck, man, you're amazing!  Don't stop, man. Go
all night!  Please!  Damn this feels wonderful!  Fuck me, Tou!  Keep
fucking and fucking and fucking me!"

He'd fallen over the brink into total boy-sex pleasure.  All he could feel
were Tou's hands dancing across his cock and balls, playing it like a
finely-tuned instrument, and that strong hard cock filling his ass - his
body; his soul - with utter pleasure.  Oh that cock!  He wanted to hug it,
kiss it, study it.  The steady feel of it pounding him had become his
heartbeat.  He couldn't do without it, couldn't live without it.  His hips
were a pool of melted butter.  His ass was a wild, electric thing.  He was
alive for the first time in his life.

"Fuck, you so fucking beautiful!" Tou cooed, as he pleasured the tightest,
juiciest ass he'd had in a long time, and gazed down as this
finely-sculpted young muscle-god.

"God, I wanna fuck you!" Tou cried and sped up his thrusts.  CJ realized it
was getting more intense.  Tou was holding him by his balls, squeezing
them, lifting his big body up by his balls and his cock-root as he pummeled
that sweet, tight ass.  CJ braced himself on his elbows and raised his hips
up higher so Tou could get the best access to his boy-hole.  Tou was
relentless in his ramming, and CJ loved every minute of it.  He felt the
cream boiling in his own balls from the fucking and the ballplay.  Oh God,
this is sex, he thought dreamily as he sensed his cream ready to spurt,
then, "UUUNNNNHHHHHHH, FUCK!" he screamed as his dick erupted.  His ass
clenched hard on the big dick in him, and he heard Tou cry, then felt the
most wonderful feeling ever, as a thick hot rush of boy-cream exploded into
his ass.  OH YES! he thought.  The feeling was happiness oozing over him,
like reaching the warmth of home after a long, perilous trek.  His ass
clasped Tou tightly; his arms reached out to draw in his beautiful
first-time lover.  CJ felt like the gods had rewarded him, had rewarded his
faith by giving him the prize he'd quested after so long.  He thought to
himself: I made it; I'm here.

A few minutes later, as he regained a semblance of consciousness, he looked
over dreamily at Reed and Chance.  They had been watching, smiling.  They
each kissed him, then both started dressing.  Tou pulled out, kissed CJ,
fed him his dick to clean, which CJ did gratefully, and then he pulled his
jock and pants back on.

"OK, guys," Tou said briskly, flushed after such a fine fuck.  "They don't
pay me to have sex.  I gotta get back to work.  CJ, Chance'll tell you
where I cut hair.  You come by.  I keep that nice flat-top looking good for
you.  And I keep that nice ass of yours in shape, too."

CJ smiled.  He finally had his life.  The mountain had been scaled, and now
his homeland stretched out before him for mile after glorious mile.  He
dressed, too, after giving Tou a long, slow, sloppy kiss.  Still in a sweet
daze, the three boys descended the stairs and emerged into the club proper
again.

Chance clasped him in a jock-hug as they closed the door.

"Well, stud.  Whaddya think?"

"Chance, I just don't know what to say, dude.  I feel like cryin' I'm so
happy.  How can I thank you?"

"Forget it, man.  It's good to have another friend."

"When can I see you again, man?"

Chance thought.  "I go for my hour-long run on Monday.  You wanna run with
me?"  Then he smiled and whispered low to CJ, "We can cool down together in
my room afterwards, and who knows, things might kinda heat up.  I love sex
when it's all sweaty and nasty, the way it's s'posed to be."

"Fuck, dude, it's a date.  I can't wait."

"Shit, Chance," CJ added, as he sensuously stroked the beautiful face of
this remarkable boy, emboldened into a new gay frankness, "I'd like to lick
every drop of sweat offa that hot body o' yours.  Fuck, that'd be hot."

Chance just grinned.  CJ, though, was not a little sad at the thought of
the three of them splitting up for the evening.  But Reed wanted to be
alone with Chance, he could tell.  Still, he couldn't help feeling a little
down.  He was so fucking revved up, he could go for a lot more sex.

"Shit, though, guys.  I gotta tell you.  I sure am horny as hell after what
just happened in there.  I feel now like I'm all dressed up with nowhere to
go!"

"I tell ya, man, the dance floor," Reed laughed.

"Naw, wait.  I got it," Chance said, struck by another inspiration. "CJ, go
to the doorman, where you came in, and ask him to show you how to get to
the club downstairs.  'The Barracks,' it's called; it's where the guys in
leather all hang out, I think.  Head down there and ask around for a guy
named Derrick Frank.  Tell 'im Chance Taylor, the boy he gave a ride to
tonight sent you down cause you wanted to have some fun.  Tell him you're
sorta new to all this - suggest maybe the two o' you head over to his place
or somethin' for the rest of the night.  Otherwise, if you hang out down
there, I kinda think your ass might get drilled by about thirty hard-core
leather dudes."

CJ smiled, "Shit, Chance, that's not a wholly unpleasant thought.  But
thanks, man, I'll go see if I can scare up this Derrick guy."

"He's cool.  I think you guys'll have a good time."

CJ hugged Chance and Reed, then headed for the front of the club.  "I'll
tell you Monday what happens," he turned and shouted back.

When he was gone, Reed kissed Chance.  "Well, that was hot as fuck, and you
did your good deed for the day, scout. I, uh, gather from what Tou said at
the end there that he was the one who cut your hair this afternoon?"

Chance grinned.

"I can fucking guess the rest.  Listen, stud, I gotta pee.  Here's a
twenty.  Get us each another round, and I'll meet you at the bar, OK?"

"Sure," said Chance, who was dying for another beer.  He gave Reed a quick
peck, then headed for the bar, thinking of his dad again.

Reed worked his way through the by-now-packed club, pushing his way through
beautiful boys in every stage of undress, until he reached the john, which
at Sparta was a sort of sex spa.  The doorless stalls were almost always in
use by two or more boys in some form of sexplay, and the troughs where you
peed were designed for easy cruising. The long troughs made it so you
didn't feel at all shy about getting right next to another stud while he
whipped out his cock.  Reed very much liked that aspect.

Sure enough, while he pissed a strong, steady stream, a guy suddenly edged
in right next to him.  Reed did what any still-horny gay guy in a
muscle-club like Sparta would do, he riveted his eyes down on the guy's
crotch.  The man unzipped, and then fished out a real beauty.  Long and
thick and veiny like Chance's, plus VERY uncut.  DAMN, Reed thought, this
dude has a sweet fuckin' foreskin.  It came to a fleshy little half-inch
pucker hanging off the tip.  The dude took his time, stroking it teasingly,
diddling his foreskin with the big, lightly-furred hands of a real he-man.
Reed was close to salivating.  Then, after getting his dick semi-hard from
showing off to Reed, this guy finally pushed the fleshy hood back, exposed
the big round tip of his thick cock, and a golden stream started rushing
into the trough.

Reed had stopped peeing by this time, but he was utterly mesmerized by the
guy's cock, glued to it as the pee came streaming out.  He'd never been
into water sports, but he felt like he could with this guy.  Reed imagined
looking up longingly at this incredible dick as a shower of urine drenched
him.  He was getting kind of hard himself, and started stroking his own
cock, jacking the foreskin, hoping this stud was looking over at him.

Suddenly he heard a gravelly voice boom, "Fuck, son.  That's the second
time in a coupla days I caught you staring at me way too long!"

Reed was, startled, but only a little ashamed: the way this guy was working
his dick, he obviously wanted Reed to stare.

He started to apologize: "Look, I couldn't help but stare at that - "

But when Reed raised his head up to make eye contact with the dude, he
couldn't believe it: "Holy Fuck!  It's you!"

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