Boys In Heat, page 7
Ford took a seat in a cracked vinyl chair, sneaking glances at Del between pulls of his beer. He supposed he was cute, for a mouth-breather. Ford remembered him as scrawny, but now he was about as built-up as Lando, as if Del had spent his time away from school doing hard labor. His eyes were heading for Del’s crotch before he could stop himself, and when he heard Lando chuckling he whipped his gaze toward the TV.
Lando was standing at the kitchen entrance, his smile broader than ever. “Like I said, he’s a man where it counts. Can show you, if you like.”
“Naw, that’s okay,” Ford said, feeling his face burn.
“Hey, Del, whyn’t you show this guy here how big a man you are.”
“Huh?” Del sounded as if he’d just been woken from a deep sleep.
“C’mon, show ’im.”
“But I’m watchin’ TV.”
In two steps Lando had crossed the living room and shut off the TV. “Now you can show this guy how big a man you are.”
Del looked vacantly at the blank TV screen, still hoping, it seemed, that it would come back on. He got to his feet a few seconds later, and Ford was better able to see his hard torso, see that it was covered with golden hair. When Del undid the top button of his cutoffs, Ford said, “You don’t hafta do that,” because it was what he thought he should say, not because he meant it.
But whether Ford meant his protest didn’t matter. Del’s zipper came down regardless, and out came his dick. “See, whatta I tell you?” Lando said. “Good Lord may’ve shortchanged ’im upstairs but he made up for it down below.”
Del did have a big dick, about six or seven inches, soft, and a good size around, too. The kind of dick that got Ford thinking the thoughts that had plagued him since junior high, the kind of thoughts he’d hoped one of Miss Vel’s girls would put to rest for good.
“Looks even better hard,” Lando said. Ford didn’t even have to look at him to tell he was grinning. “Wanna see it stiff? Go on, Del, show this dude what it looks like hard.”
“That’s…” Ford’s protest dried up in his throat. Del started fondling his cock, looking down at his crotch—they were all looking at his crotch. If having everyone’s attention made him nervous, Del didn’t show it. Ford gulped more beer, hoping the alcohol might dull any possible physical reaction.
Del’s prick gradually inflated before their eyes. Ford’s own cock responded to the sight, and he crossed his legs, hoping Lando didn’t notice. When Del had worked up a semi he looked up, treated them to a goofy grin and giggled. Holding the base of his dick with one hand, Del slapped it into the palm of the other, looking directly at Ford, his grin now an approximation of a seductive smile.
Ford stared at the other man’s cock, thicker and longer now, the head succulently plump. The air inside the trailer became thin, breathing requiring more effort than when he first entered. His stomach curdled, his crotch tingled.
Lando said, “He can suck hisself. Wanna see?”
Yes! Out loud, Ford said, “No, I…”
“Sure you do. Only cost twenty dollars.”
“I…I don’t have that much on me.”
“Bullshit. You come to Miss Vel’s you gotta have least fifty dollars in your pocket. Del’s gonna put on a show for you, and you’re gonna pay to see it.”
There was an implied “or else” in Lando’s words. Ford pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out two tens, trying to hold the wallet so Lando couldn’t see the other bills. Lando plucked the money from his hands, thanking him obsequiously.
“Okay, Del,” Lando said, holding up the bills. “Show the man your special talent.”
Del pulled off his shorts. Completely naked now, he lay down on the sofa. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression one of concentration, like a circus performer about to do a death-defying stunt. And then Del raised his legs up over his head, his toes touching the end table closest to where his head rested, sending an empty Coke can to the floor. With his body bent in half, his semihard cock was positioned over his face, nearly two inches from his lips. Raising his head, Del closed the distance, his lips locking around the tip of his cockhead.
“Can only suck the head,” Lando said. “But that’s enough. Can suck hisself ’til he cums, you want.”
Ford ignored him, his attention focused on Del slurping his own dick, seeing it getting even harder. Ford was getting harder, too, and crossed his legs, again, hoping to conceal the rising mound in his crotch.
“Ever try and do that ya’self?”
Lando had moved closer, standing immediately to the left of Ford’s chair. Annoyed by the intrusion, Ford intended to throw an irritated scowl Lando’s way, but surprise pulled his furrowed brows upward when he turned to the pimp wannabe.
The front of Lando’s shorts poked out lewdly, the man making no effort to conceal his arousal. “I tried few times,” Lando answered his own question. “Never could do it. Most I managed was jacking off onto my own face. Ever do that?” Lando grabbed his crotch then, massaging his cock through the thin material of the shorts, showing his bright white teeth all the while.
Ford turned away, not answering, and drained his beer. He rested the empty can between his legs, wanting to ask for another one but not wanting to speak to Lando, his face burning from the other man’s words, his mind conjuring up a visual of the muscular black man naked, legs over his head, his white load splattering his dark brown face. Ford’s dick throbbed.
Del’s cock was rigid, enabling him to take the entire head into his mouth. His ass bobbed gently in the air in time to the steady slurp-slurp-slurp of his self-satisfaction. His balls draped over his fingers where his hand held the base of his cock, rolling loosely within their fuzzy pink sac. Ford cupped a hand over the bulge in his jeans, telling himself all he was doing was watching a freak show, nothing more.
Lando said, “Hey.”
Ford turned, then recoiled.
Lando had pulled his shorts down and was waving his dick in front of Ford. Maybe not as long as Del’s—only lacking an inch or so—but certainly as thick, the dark shaft bumpy with engorged veins, the head a lighter brown fading to a dusky pink near the piss-slit. “Ever suck a black man’s cock?” he asked.
It was all Ford could do to breathe, let alone speak. “I need to go,” he said, the words coming out in a hoarse gasp. He began to rise from his seat.
Lando pushed him back down. “I think ya want to stay.”
“Hey, Del,” Lando called across the narrow room, “how ’bout stoppin’ what yer doin’, suck something else for a while.”
Del kept on sucking his cock until Lando called out to him again, more forcefully than before. Del stopped then, lowering his legs until he was lying prone across the sofa, his prick wet with spit and pulsing visibly. “C’mon, Lando, I’s almost done,” he complained, the words coming out a whiny slur. When he looked over at Ford and Lando, though, he got that goofy grin again and got up, lumbering, zombielike, toward Lando—or, more specifically, Lando’s cock.
“Show our new friend how you like to suck other dicks,” Lando said, though Del was dropping to his knees unasked, grinning, saliva dribbling on his chin. He took hold of the other man’s hard-on, gave the shaft a squeeze, and rubbed the head across his lower lip. He flicked the slit with his tongue, and then licked the cockhead like it was a chocolate lollipop. Finally, he took Lando’s dick into his mouth.
Ford had seen his share of straight porn, but he’d gotten a few peeks at gay porn on the Internet—rather than buy Ford his own computer, his parents had purchased one for the family and set it up in the living room. It was a challenge to look up information for a history report without being interrupted; visiting a porn site for more than a few minutes was out of the question. Now, seeing Del suck Lando’s cock two feet in front of him, Ford was paralyzed by contradictory feelings. His cock was so hard it hurt yet terror gripped his insides so tightly he thought he might hyperventilate.
Del swallowed Lando’s rod whole. Lando, groaning loudly, grabbed a fistful of Del’s hair, holding it like a saddle horn and thrusting his hips forward, fucking Del’s mouth. His blond friend didn’t gag once.
“How ’bout it?” Lando drawled, rolling his head toward Ford. “Wanna give it a taste now?”
“I don’t…I mean, I’m not…”
“Shee-it,” Lando chuckled. “You scared, is what you is. Tell you what, you suck me and I’ll have Del suck you for free.”
Ford stared at Del’s lips locked around the base of Lando’s cock, his nose cushioned in the other man’s tightly curled pubes, his hand cupping Lando’s balls. Ford tried to imagine that was his mouth wrapped around that dick, that Lando was holding him by the hair. But he couldn’t conjure the image. Even in his own fantasies, Ford was never one of the players; he was too afraid of confronting the truth even within the privacy of his own mind. Del’s mouth around his cock, though, was too strong a temptation to resist.
“H-how much?” Ford asked.
“Hey-hey-hey—ease up there,” Lando said, pushing Del away, taking deep breaths. “Taking me farther than I wanna go just yet.” To Ford, he said, “What’s that you said?”
“How much? For Del to…to suck me.”
Lando flashed his teeth. “Another twenty, but free if you suck me. You want, you can fuck his ass. Better than pussy, all tight an’ shit. Del, he likes that almost as much as suckin’ dick. I’d offer you both, but I don’t think you’ll last long enough. Probably cum second you stick it in, no matter which hole it is.”
Ford’s cock throbbed an affirmative.
“So, you want it for free or you gonna pay?”
Wade pulled his wallet from his back pocket for the third time since entering the trailer. “I…I’ll pay for it.”
“Suit yerself,” Lando shrugged.
After Ford gave him a twenty, Lando asked if he wanted to get a blow job or to fuck Del. The sight of Del gulping down Lando’s cock burned into his brain, Ford chose the blow job.
“Then I’ll take the ass. Hear that, Del? You gonna get filled up on both ends.”
Del sat on his haunches, idly stroking his boner, smiling mindlessly.
Lando pulled off his shorts and tossed them across the room. “Gotta get our stuff. Don’t y’all start without me,” he said, starting down the trailer’s claustrophobic hallway.
“Gonna get outta yer clothes?” It was the first time Del had spoken directly to Ford since he entered the trailer.
“I thought Lando said—”
Del leaned forward, placing a hand on Ford’s knee. His other hand reached for the empty beer can nestled between Ford’s legs. “You gotta big dick?” Del dropped the can to the floor and grabbed Ford’s crotch.
An electric heat passed from Del’s hand through Ford’s jeans; he jerked upright, suddenly as rigid as his cock. Ford’s breathing quickened and his lips quivered, trying to form words he couldn’t find.
“Boy, you not undressed yet?” Lando had returned, holding a bottle of lubricant and foil-wrapped condoms.
“I—”
“Well, go on!”
Ford stood uneasily, doing his best not to look at the other two men. He took off his shoes and pants. He was going to leave his T-shirt on until Lando said, “You see either of us wearin’ a shirt?” Ford turned away so he was facing neither Lando nor Del, not wanting to see their reactions when he pulled down his white cotton briefs to reveal his hard-on.
It didn’t matter. “How ’bout that Del?” Lando cackled. “Not bad, not bad a’tall.”
Ford sat back down. Del was still kneeling on the floor, waiting.
Ford gripped the chair’s armrests, bracing himself.
Del gripped Ford’s cock.
Pleasure crackled beneath Ford’s skin. He looked down at Del regarding his cock, his hand gently stroking it. He paused, looking up at Ford. He no longer looked vacant. With Ford’s stiff pole in his hand, Del exuded absolute confidence.
Ford saw Lando kneeling behind Del, holding his latex-covered cock in one hand, his other hand playing with Del’s ass.
Del closed his mouth over Ford’s prick, and Ford’s eyes slammed shut. Excitement rocketed through his body with such force that he sucked in his breath and threw his head back, as if he was enduring the rapid drops and twists of a roller coaster. The warm, moist cavern of Del’s mouth, his wriggling tongue against Ford’s cockhead—it was better than Ford had ever imagined.
Keeping his eyes closed, Ford tried to imagine it was a girl sucking him, first trying to picture one of the girls he knew, like Shayla, who graduated in his class and now worked part-time as receptionist at the packaging plant where he worked. He tried to conjure her face, her body, but though he thought she was pretty, he never thought of her “that way.” He tried visualizing celebrities, women who clearly wanted to be thought of “that way,” but it was difficult imagining them doing to him what Del was doing. Worse, trying to picture a woman made his boner go slack.
Opening his eyes, Ford looked down between his legs and watched Del swallow his dick, slurping loudly, spit bubbling out of his lips and dripping off Ford’s shaft. Del pulled his mouth away, grunting as his body pitched forward. Lando was mounting him.
Ford saw the dark-skinned man leaning into Del’s ass, his hands clutched around the simpleton’s waist, eyes half-closed, whispering: “Better than pussy.”
Ford’s hard-on was revived.
Del gulped down Ford’s cock, his head bobbing in rhythm to Lando’s thrusts. Ford pushed his hips upward, working against the descent of Del’s mouth onto his dick, his cockhead hitting the back of Del’s throat. Ford fought the urge to run his fingers through Del’s hair, clutching the chair’s armrests the whole time, as if he were struggling to keep from being ejected from his seat.
The sensation intensified, until pleasure could no longer be contained. Ford struggled to ride the rapturous feeling a while longer, but he couldn’t fight it. Emitting a ragged gasp, his body jerking in his chair, he came.
Del greedily gulped down his load, squeezing the shaft of Ford’s dick to push out every last drop. Even when Ford thought he was drained, a few more beads of cum oozed out of his piss-slit, lapped up happily by Del.
Weakened by his orgasm, Ford sat, motionless, not quite believing he’d participated in what had happened. In his dazed state he watched Del, his face shiny with saliva, sweat and cum, sit up and lean against Lando’s chest. Del’s oversized dong was bobbing in the air, a clear thread of precum swinging off the head.
Lando reached around and grabbed Del’s dick, pulling on it while he fucked him in hard, sharp stabs. He was looking over Del’s shoulder, whispering something to him while looking directly at Ford, his eyes knowing.
Ford told himself he should look away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off Del’s writhing body, his big, drooling cock. He couldn’t help but stare at the contrast of Lando’s chocolate skin against Del’s whiteness.
The two men came within seconds of each other. Del was first, his cumshot rocketing straight up, splattering his own heaving chest. Ford was sure Lando would’ve said something about that—in his mind he could hear him whistling, saying, “How ’bout that?”—if he weren’t so close to cumming himself. Lando was really fucking Del hard, his thrusts making Miss Vel’s son bounce and sway like a rag doll in a windstorm. His face was screwed up, his lips trembling. Ford expected Lando to roar like a lion when he got off. Instead, Lando let out a coughing gasp, his body convulsing as he came. Del rolled his hips, massaging Lando’s throbbing pole with his ass.
Del turned his head and stuck out his tongue. Lando leaned in and met him, the two men kissing awkwardly, Lando tweaking one of Del’s sticky nipples as their tongues dueled.
Lando looked at Ford, and their eyes met. He smiled conspiratorially.
Ford hopped up from his seat then, rushing to gather his clothes, getting dressed hurriedly. By the time he got his clothes on, Lando and Del had settled onto the sofa. Neither of them had bothered to get dressed. Ford headed for the door.
“Maybe next time you won’t be so shy,” Lando called after him.
Ford paused at the door, looking over at the couple on the couch. He shook his head. “I ain’t queer like you,” he said. He opened the door and rushed out of the trailer, trying to outrun Lando’s deep, rumbling guffaw.
On the drive home he wondered what it would be like to suck a black man’s dick and to fuck Del up the ass.
ORBS
Clarence Wong
I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Two silver balls, one on each side of the crown of his penis, held together by a slender rod pierced through the base of the crown. They shone in the San Diego sunlight, a beacon in the sea of pink and beige bodies lying buttocks up on the beach.
“They’re from Tiffany,” said Colin, later, flipping up his penis and showing me the tiny mark embossed on the silver rod.
“Tiffany sells this kind of…uh…jewelry?” I said, trying to hide my surprise.
“Special order,” he said. “I know people there.”
I was taking the summer off from my regular job teaching English to Mexican immigrants. I spent my days reading Hemingway on Black’s Beach, the far, secluded end where gay men sunbathed in the nude under the stern eye of state park rangers.
To pay the rent, I worked the dinner shift at House of Hunan. Mr. Yang, the owner, had hired me on the spot. I satisfied the two requirements he had for waiters. They had to be Chinese and they had to speak English. House of Hunan’s clientele was exclusively Western. No self-respecting Chinese would eat there. The fare was strictly middle-American versions of Chinese food. Everything was served in the same brown, gooey sauce.
Colin was an Aussie from Brisbane, currently living in Amsterdam. Short and stocky, he had sun-bleached hair and a shapely goatee. His forearms bulged like Popeye’s. To me, he looked like a wrestler from the Ukrainian team at the Olympics. Or a short-order cook at an all-night diner. I couldn’t decide which.
