Names Aren't Important
Please note that this story and all others within the Erotica section of the Gossamer Tower are subject to this disclaimer.
Written May 2011 (mm)
It was my second time to visit the West Hollywood dance club Rage when I had met him for the first time. While I can't even remember his name, I do remember exactly how we met.
I was seated at the second floor lounge with a decent view of the dance floor below, nursing my drink. The bartender claimed it was own creation - something he called a Big Dick. And while it pretty much tasted like a zombie of some sort, the name alone made it an interesting enough drink. The club was already pretty full given it was already past midnight - the local alcohol laws meant a 02:00am deadline for any public drinking. I never understood that rule, but you just roll with the punches I suppose.
Then I caught him staring - he was standing in a corner looking directly at me. We didn't even get to play that classic game of trying to steal a glance without the other noticing. He was just dead set looking at me. The attention was both empowering and somewhat scary. I was only here on an extended business trip after all - I didn't want to make any trouble.
As he emerged from the shadows and came closer, I started to better appreciate his appearance. He was taller than me - well, like everyone else in the bar. Definitely Caucasian with fairly short dirty blond hair and pale blue eyes. His eyes really caught my attention - even in the gloom of the club they stood out a bit and almost seemed to glow given how they reflected the lights pulsing and flashing around the dance floor. And then there was his smile - a knowing, confident kind of smirk that made me feel like I should probably call him "sir" or something.
I was struggling to think of what to say as a striking opening line when he solved that problem for me. As as he was close enough he brought his lips to mine and kissed me. No wait - he kissed me, italics included. After a few moments of shock and confusion, I melted into the kiss and stopped resisting, allowing his tongue to dart past my lips. I could taste him - an odd mix of cigarettes, peppermint and grenadine. He had a light dusting of stubble on his upper lip that tickled a bit as he continued to lock lips with me. And for some reason I kept opening my eyes to see if he was still there - the sight of his long blond eyelashes somehow sticking in my mind as an image of that moment.
We parted long enough for me to catch my breath while he just stood there smiling. It wasn't a friendly, nice-to-meet you kind of smile. It was something else - something a bit more feral. At that moment I had totally forgotten where I was and the rush of the club came back all at once. Somehow it had seemed like all sound and color had drained from the world while he had me in his arms but now it was all coming back.
I deftly dug my fingers into my palm until it was enough to register a bit of pain. Yup, I definitely wasn't dreaming.
"More?" he asked, this being the first thing he had actually said to me. I could only nod my head a few times before his hands cupped my face again, his tongue dancing with mine. Insert swoon here, or something like that. It's hard to remember the rest. All there was at that point in time was me and him and the exchange of heat facilitated by our joined lips. Soon his hands were running down my back, cupping my rear through my jeans. My own hands followed suit - tracing down his chest, feeling his body gyrating against mine. Damn this guy could kiss.
We came up for air again, and he finally picked up his drink - it was something blue I think - to take a quick gulp. I did the same, the sugary sweetness filling my nostrils as the alcohol burned my throat for a second. I could feel my blood rushing through every vein, pounding a rhythm of its own that seemed to counter the music playing. All I could hear was the racing of my heart - for the life of me I couldn't tell you what song was playing. Not that I actually cared about that either.
"You taste nice," he began with a chuckle. "I take it you're not from around here?" He punctuated his question with that smile of is - it was the dangerous kind that made mothers warn their children about talking to strangers. Oh Toto, this definitely isn't Kansas any more.
"No - here on business" I croaked. That got me blushing automatically - why the heck was I acting like a lovestruck teenager? "Just thought I'd check out the place." I added in an attempt to recover some dignity.
"You're cute," he continued, "You up for some fun tonight?"
It took almost all of my willpower to avoid nodding my head like an eager puppy. It had been a boring few weeks thus far and to finally get some, well, attention was a welcome change. And he was hot. "Depends on what you mean by fun." I tried to answer in a similarly confident tone. I had no idea if it was working.
"Then let's see if you can dance as well as you kiss."
He took my hand and led me back down to the first floor. We inched our way past the crowds to the main dance floor and found ourselves a little space beside the flashing LCD screens. With that he closed his eyes and started to dance to the music and I did my best to let the music take me. I have no idea what we looked like, but it was amazing. I felt so free - so alive.
And then he took my hands to his chest and I could feel the sweat breaking past his shirt. He wasn't a body builder or anything like that but I could definitely feel the slight ripple of his muscles as he continued to dance to the beat. The whole time he was just staring at me with that wolfish grin of his, as if he was daring me to go further. Who was I to say no?
I reached under his shirt and felt the slight trail of hair on his stomach. I could feel that he had some definition down there and the thought of it all excited me. I changed tactics and started to unbutton his shirt as he danced. He didn't try to stop me and so I took that as an invitation to continue and soon the beige fabric was hanging limp, leaving his chest mostly exposed to me. I continued to explore his body with my fingers as I tried to keep up with the beat - a grin of my own unconsciously forming on my face. Beads of sweat had already started to form all over his body given the heat of the dance floor and the result of our own physical exertions.
As if I was in a haze, I continued to dance as my hands explored his chest - shyly playing with his nipples for a moment before returning to run down his body. The music started to become more and more distant and all I could hear was the bass beat - hell I could feel it pounding through the soles of my shoes.
It took me a while to realize I wasn't the only one exploring. I looked up to find that I was mere inches from his body now, his hands already in the process of slipping into my jeans on an expedition of their own. He caught me staring and playfully licked a bead of sweat off my nose before flashing that feral grin once more. "Enjoying?" he asked playfully. I responded with a courage I didn't realize that I had by pulling him even closer to me, grinding my hips into his.
I could feel his excited as much as he could feel mine. He laughed a bit as he disentangled himself from my underwear and resumed dancing - his arms hovering above me as he continue to grind and gyrate against one another.
I was so glad that I had decided to come back to this bar tonight. But I wouldn't fully appreciate how much so until later on.
And just like that, the house lights were on and people were already making their way out of the club. I never understood why places like Los Angeles banned the sale of liquor past 02:00am, but you had to respect the local laws and just how well everyone was following them. The DJ was announcing the last call for additional orders but that was as good as saying the bar was pretty much closed.
I was drenched with sweat given the heat of the dance floor and my companion fared little better. He was already buttoning up his short, covering the same body that I had been enjoying with my fingers seemingly moments before. It was then I realized that my belt had somehow become undone in the course of our gyrations. I'm pretty sure I blushed again as I secured my belt as he watched me with amusement.
"I feel like you've been laughing at my expense all evening" I quipped as I tucked my belt back in place. He shook his head briefly as he explained, "No sweetie, I just like what I see."
"Well...Rage is closing up for the night." I answered, not quite finding the courage to assume more than that. I found myself absentmindedly fixing my shirt while waiting for him to reply.
"So it is," he answered. "Did you have fun?"
I smiled rather foolishly before realizing it and in the end just went with it. "Yeah, I had a lot of fun. Certainly the most interesting night of my trip so far."
"Most interesting...but who said it was over?" he asked, again flashing those pearly whites of his. It was definitely the kind of smile that mother's warn you about and actors work all their lives to capture on screen. And I was just getting sucked into it.
"Well...the bar's closing. Um." I swallowed rather nervously - I felt it was loud enough to be heard in all corners of the quickly emptying bar. And despite the lack of people, I felt everyone was watching.
"But the night's just begun - unless you have somewhere else to be."
At that moment, a million scenarios ran through my head in terms of what might happen next. Many scenarios included me taking a lonely bus right home to my hotel and just turning in for the night. A few ended with my disappearance in the back alleys of Los Angeles with this stud as my killer.
But a significant number of them wondered what the rest of his body would feel like...would taste like. And then some.
"No...no where really." I croaked, again my embarrassment rushing to me cheeks. In a desperate move to recover some dignity, I tried to confidently add, "What did you have in mind."
He leaned over so his face was right up next to mine. Our noses were seemed less than a centimeter apart as those baby blue eyes of his were practically glimmering in the much brighter bar. "I'm going to make sure that this will truly be a night you'll never forget."
I gulped again and I could smell the odd cocktail of his breath again. Less of the cigarette scent and more of the cocktail mix. It had been a rather busy night. And yet despite how much I wanted this to happen, my brain made one last attempt to trigger a self-destruct on this entire operation.
I asked, "Why me?"
With that he took my hand in his and whispered, "I'll show you why."
He led me out of the club and into the chilly early morning air. The breeze made every hair on my bond stand on end given my sweat-soaked shirt and that made me shiver involuntarily. He had parked his car a few blocks down and we quickly escaped the morning air by getting into his car.
The silence in the vehicle made my ears seem to ring a bit - or was that just the effect of being aware from the blaring club music for more than 5 minutes? But he decided to solve this philosophical debate for me by pulling me close once more to kiss him. Again I felt his attentions all the way down to my toes as he made me feel all tingly inside. His hand was (again) playfully groping me through my jeans, returning me to full excitement like back on the dance floor. My hand fumbled forward, reaching for his pants in turn and was greeted with the same level of enthusiasm and anticipation there.
I don't know how long the kiss had been, but when he pulled back once more I felt a bit lightheaded and definitely out of breath. The man really knew how to push my buttons - and I still didn't know his name.
"So my place or yours?" he asked, as if we hadn't been tongue-wrestling just moments ago.
"I don't even know your name." I answered - again worried this was going to end the night for me. "Do we really need to do that right now? I'm here. You're here. I want you and you want me. And we both know nothing is going to come of this in the long term since you'll be flying back to...wherever you come from."
I tried to process his argument but my alcohol-addled brain was a bit slower than normal on the uptake. He pressed on, "So the only important question now is - your place or mine?"
"Yours...I guess." I replied, still not certain of what I was doing. But my hormones were raging throughout my system and my dick definitely didn't want to go without due attention tonight. In the battle of brain versus dick, my brain was definitely losing.
With that, he fired up the engine and started to take us to our destination. He wasn't driving overly fast - something which seems typical of most LA drivers that I've encountered. But he had another plan in mind.
With the car in motion, his right hand was free to maneuver. His fingers deftly worked their way past my fly and into my pants. Before I could put up any true resistance (as if I would), he already hand me in his hand, though with some increasingly uncomfortable boxer briefs straining in the way. His touch sent shivers up and down my body as he switched between examining my penis with his fingers and simply playing with my dick, keeping me on edge the whole drive. Even then my eyes would occasionally roll back up into my head given his ministrations and I'm sure I whimpered involuntarily more than once.
And just as quickly his hand would be back on the steering wheel as he navigated another turn or tried to keep up appearances when more cars seemed to be on the street. And I just sat there, my head already resting on my seatbelt, every beat of my heart seeming to create radial pulses starting with my groin. If I was going to die today, at least I'd die happy, right?
And no, obviously I didn't die. Far from it.
Between the alcohol in my system and his ministrations on the drive to his place, I was feeling in a state that was more than just a good buzz. Let's face it - I was beyond just being horny. I was practically ravenous and he knew it - no, he was enjoying it. And admittedly so was I.
But then we finally pulled into the parking lot of a small apartment building and the repeated fondling and probing of my underwear stopped, giving me a few moments of relative clarity to gain my bearings.
"You're going to have to follow me up - unless you're planning on staying here in the car." he chuckled as he opened his door. I followed suit exiting the car, the cool early morning air helping to wake me up a bit from my state of contented bliss. As I tried to get a better grip of where we were as we walked towards the main doors of the building, I could hear him laughing to himself again.
"What is it this time?" I asked a bit defensively.
"Well...and I'm not complaining mind you - but you better zip up your fly. Although I think your undies are kinda cute."
I immediately reached for my zipper and saw that he had (deliberately?) failed to resecure things down there. And my lime green boxer briefs were standing out in rather stark contrast to my dark denim jeans. I simply zipped myself back up while avoiding eye contact for the moment.
He led me up to third floor where he quickly opened the door for his apartment. It wasn't a very large space - a single bedroom affair with a modest kitchen nook in the corner. But then I wasn't there for breakfast, now was I.
As soon as the door closed, again we were plunged back into darkness. I was about to remark about the lights when I felt his hands pulling me close, his lips once again meeting mine. In the dark he kissed as he slowly steered me into the direction of his bedroom. His hands were already unbuttoning my shirt until it was just another item of clothing left behind on the floor somewhere in the dark.
I tried to return the favor and helped him out of his shirt as he continued to kiss, nibble and sniff me, his lips darting between my mouth, my neck and who else knows where. His hunger emboldened me and I pull his chest close to me so I could do more than nuzzle him.
My tongue probed his chest until I found a nipple. I closed my lips around it, suckling a bit as my hands fumbled with his belt to take his jeans off. I ran my tongue over his nipple in circular motions, the light hairs around it tickling a bit as I set to work. I could hear him moan slightly every time I'd nibble it gently (with just a hint of teeth) and hearing him just urged me on further.
Soon we were both down to our underwear - I was in those damned lime green boxer briefs that had made its cameo before and he was in a more stylish black number that hugged his body very well. And most especially his engorged member that looked a bit intimidating even with the fabric standing between us. He gently nudged me back onto the bed and I went along with it, feeling the slightly cold sheets beneath me as he crawled into position.
Then it was all about his lips again as he went back to kissing me - something neither of us could get enough of apparently. His hands felt like there were everywhere at once - stroking my cock through my boxers, tweaking my nipples then retreating quickly and taking my head in hand in order to draw me closer, kiss me deeper and to seemingly steal the very breath from my lungs.
I wanted him so bad. And apparently, he wanted me too.
It took me an attempt or two, but I finally managed to reverse our positions and got myself on top of him. In the pale light I could see that smile of his again, a Cheshire grin that spoke of our shared hunger, excitement and enjoyment. I tried to show a similar smile in turn as I ducked down, taking his underwear with me.
His cock was...well...pretty fucking beautiful, for lack of a more precise way of describing it. It was big but not frightening huge. It was of even girth from head to base. And it was twitching in time to the pumping of his blood. My tongue reach out to it, licking the head ever so slightly - an action that was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. I continued on, taking more and more of him into my mouth, my saliva lubricating my way down his shaft. The staccato grunts of his breathing turned into a long, drawn-out moan as I went to work, all the while maintaining steady suction as I worked my way down. Soon his pubes were starting to tickle my nose and I knew that I was reaching my limit. But I would not be denied.
Relying on an old trick a fuck buddy of mine taught me, I did my best to breath through my nose as I bobbed once more. On the downstroke I felt that familiar resistance in the back of my throat as the head of his shaft started to probe my throat. And as I had learned to do before - I swallowed, or at least made my muscles go into that position. It worked every time - swallow at the point of greatest resistance and find yourself with a mouth very full of cock. From a low moan I got a sharp exclamation with a bit of a whimper.
It was nice to have control - even if only for a little while.
I went to town on that beautiful cock of his - moistening his entire shaft with my spit as I blew him. Up with my tongue tickling the head and down again waiting to hear him go crazy for a moment as I'd take him all in. A few times his hands gripped me by the hair to push me back down and I'd try not to resist - at least not all the time.
Finally he pulled me off his cock, not raging with his own desire given the rather fierce, steady twitching it was making. The spit-slicked meat reflected the moon light in a funny way, making it look like it was dipped in silver or something. I wanted to go back down but he pulled me back up to kiss me again. Our tongues danced once more as he shifted us around, bringing himself back on top.
"Well aren't you the little show-off?" he taunted as he pinched my right nipple, making me gasp this time. "But now it's my turn."
I was afraid that he was going to rip off my boxers given the eagerness and urgency in his movements and it was pretty darn close to that. Soon my own cock was bobbing in the night air, the head glistening. "I see I've kept you more than a little excited." he teased as he licked off the pearl of liquid that had formed at the head.
I wanted to throw a witty remark of my own but he seemed determined to keep me unsettled. In one fell swoop he took my dick completely into my mouth. I saw stars for a moment as he savored taking me completely, his tongue tracing lines of its own along my shaft as he just held me there. Then he started his own rhythm, sending shocks of lightning up and own my body as he took me in. I felt my toes curling on their own whenever he'd attack my increasingly sensitive head. And his hands remained just as eager, pinching my sides without warning or playing with my now sensitive nipples. As much as I thought I had managed to dominate him for a bit, he was now playing me like some musical instrument. I could sense his playful enjoyment as he coaxed various moans, groans and gasps from me as he worked me up completely.
And just as quickly I could feel the cold air assault my dick where his warm mouth had been moments before. He was crawling back up, stealing a nibble or two as he made his way up my body. Then his lips were again my world while he mashed out cocks together, pushing his rigidness against mine.
I felt like I could have finished right then and there. But he was definitely dragging this out for both of us - he had other plans in store after all.
When I look back at that night, I can't even remember how long we had been going at it when he finally broke off our kissing to fumble in the dark for the drawer of his nightstand. As much as I had been enjoying our various entanglements up until that point, we both knew the main even was just around the corner.
From the minimal light coming through the window, I saw him return with the tools of the trade in hand. In his left he held a blue bottle of lube. In his right he held a condom, still sealed away in its packaging. A bit out of breath, I broke the silence. "So is this where I ask if you're a top or a bottom?" He chuckled in response, his hard on bouncing a bit in time with his laughing. "Seems a bit late for that now, don't you think?" he answered.
He grabbed a pillow and set it at the edge of the bed before dragging me into position. I contemplated putting up a little resistance, but who was I kidding? I wanted this as much as he did - at least that's how I was reading things thus far. The bastard had a knack for catching me off guard though.
"And who said I was a bottom?" I jeered as he pulled me further up the pillow, his cock clearly leaking a bit as he did so. "Who said I was only a top?" he replied. I wanted to squeal, but I needed to maintain some dignity. So I tried to match his smile as he applied some lube to his fingers and started to work on loosening me up.
He was a lot more...gentle, at least versus what I expected given his personality. He started with one finger dancing around the ring, as it were. He'd occasionally stroke himself to keep hard as he kept playing with my hole, his fingers showing the same dexterity and nimbleness that he had demonstrated in the car. At times he'd take me in hand to stroke me as well, just as he'd push in further with his finger - or was it now fingers?
By the time I had realized that I had been moaning for some time, I heard the tell-tale rip of a condom being released from its prison. He was generous in the lube he applied onto his latex-sheathed dick with a few more long strokes. I could practically taste his anticipation - the scent of it was everywhere, it seemed. Or it could have been my own.
Then I felt him poking and probing with something other than his finger. He started slowly, trying to ease past that initial wall of resistance. I did my best to relax, but he was a bit thicker than I had anticipated. There was that familiar sensation of pain as his head eased passed the threshold - the pain that every man who's ever bottom feels almost every single time. But we all knew that way lay beyond it was more than worth the pain.
Sensing my momentary discomfort, he started stroking me again. The pleasurable sensation had obvious effects as it helped me relax a bit more as he thrust himself in further. "That's it," he whispered, "pull me in baby." He gave me another glans to base stroke and as I moaned I felt his pubes brushing against me. Gods, he had finally bottomed out.
We both stayed still for a moment in that initial moment of joining. A bead of sweat had worked its way down his neck to rest near one of his nipples. The roaring of blood in my ears was replaced with a realization that I could feel his heart beat too, but instead it was pulsing inside me. He flashed a rather wicked grin as he twitched his dick inside me, hitting a spot that had lights flashing in my vision.
At first he probed instead of fucked - a long drawn-out exploration of my insides as he tried to rotate his cock inside me, checking how I responded when he'd give a little thrust here or pushed deeper to reach something there. Sometimes he'd start to pull out slowly until I'd end up wrapping my legs around him to ease him back in. He'd test to see what would make me gasp, moan or sigh. And he'd check to see if certain thrusts had me leaking more or just made my dick dance between us. The bastard was taking his time and was enjoying it.
Then he bottomed out again, going as deep as he could as he leaned over. Hovering less than an inch away, he smiled just before he kissed me again. And then he started to fuck in earnest - sometimes he'd jab repeatedly trying to find my most sensitive spots. Other times he'd use longer, fuller strokes but never letting the head of his dick leave me. His hands joined in the fun my playing with my nipples or bracing against my hips or even making me suck and bite them as he fucked me.
I could feel the wave building in me - the knowledge that he was hitting all the right spots and was going to bring me over the edge. I tried to reach for my dick to further enjoy the fuck, but he deftly grabbed me hand and pinned it down over my head. As he look the other one and braced it as well, he chuckled again, "No. That's. My. Job." with each word punctuated with a full, deep thrust as far as he could go.
He attacked my armpits with his tongue as he continued to fuck me, my dick feeling harder than it had been for a long time despite being trapped between our writhing bodies. He continued his assault with thrusts, nibbles, licks with me only able to moan, gasp and shudder as he made me remember why it was amazing to be a gay man.
And just as I felt things reaching the crest, that point of no return - he stopped. My eyes had been closed then as I had just lost myself to the sensations. My hands were still over my head despite the fact he was no longer holding me down. I blinked a few times to see him in the gloom. "Wha-why'd you stop?" I asked a bit more urgently that I had expected to. But he just stood there watching me. The only sounds were our attempts to draw in enough air into our lungs.
"Just wanted to make sure you were still with me." He said. Taking one leg in hand, he set it against his body so it was completely vertical as he moved my other leg to the side, twisting my body slightly. Impossibly, it felt like he was now trusting deeper than before, and this time with an intensity that he had been holding back all night. I couldn't help but howl in pleasure as he resumed and didn't even notice that he had my cock in hand as he fucked my brains out.
And then it happened. Some might call it bliss. Some might call it climax. I think the best way I could describe it was, well, fulfillment. He had grabbed me by the shoulder as he continued to ram into me with long, steady, strong thrusts. I was as impaled on his meat as I could possibly be and I was loving every moment.
Hey gave out a low, rather guttural growl as his thrust reached a fever pitch that he matched with his stroking of my cock. I felt him swell deep within me just as my balls churned and seemed to boil with the need for release. There was a low, throaty moan that was probably the work FUCK, but I have no idea if it was him or me.
I came. And deep inside me, so did he.
I gasped as the first ribbons shot out of my dick. The second or third release hit my neck or somewhere close to there. He was still fucking me as a fourth and a fifth spasm sent cum arching all over my body. I lost count by then and I never checked if he had tried.
It felt as if I had lost time for a moment there. There exists a good five or so minutes of time that I lost in that release. All I know is that once I had come back down from wherever he had sent me, he had already collapsed on top of me, our spent dicks resting between us. There was a layer of sweat, semen and lube that was now mashed between us, as if it threatened to fuse us together in that spot for the rest of time...or at least until morning.
"Fuck...that was good." I couldn't help saying. He raised his head for a moment to smile at me again, but this time a good and honest smile that wasn't part of a performance. "You were amazing." he replied as he planted a few kisses on my nose, my neck and eventually my lips.
He had remained lying there for some time - at least long enough for us to doze off a bit. Once the sun had started to rise I had managed to gain my bearings again - and eventually turn the tables. At least a few times. But he made sure to return the favor eventually.
I never understood why we avoided names - it's not like I wanted a relationship, right? We both knew what we wanted - a really good fucking and a night of general enjoyment. And we made sure to arrange a few more sessions while I was still in Los Angeles.
I've been back to California a few times since then, but for some reason we've never tried to hook up again. I hit Rage a few times but never caught him there and if he had seen me he certainly didn't let me know. It's just as well, I suppose. We had a good run and anything more might have been too complicated.
But it never hurts to think back and remember.