SEVEN HITS! Get Your Ass Ready! (8 page)

“And…what did you think of it?” Beck said, looking up at Tommy, who was leaning against the chair now, hands behind him, in a pose that thrust his long bulge in Beck’s direction.

Tommy grinned. “Well, I’m not gay, man.” He held up a hand. “But…when I see something like track 3? Seeing dudes gettin’ it from other dude like that? And I’m, you know,” he winked one glittering eye, “in the mood?”

He adjusted his crotch, as if the thought were making his cock swell uncomfortably. “Well, fuck, a hole’s a hole, you know?”

“Yeah, true,” Beck said, mesmerized by Tommy’s easy sexuality.

“Why don’t you put on track 3 and see what I mean?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” Beck flipped the lid up. The skinheads were just finishing off, drenching the little bitch bottom’s face with cum and beer at the same time. He clicked the forward button to track 3.

“How’s that harness fit you?” Tommy asked.

“How did you…” Beck looked down. Shit, of course, his white wafer-thin UnderArmour t-shirt didn’t conceal the harness at all. He laughed, because what else was there to do. “Shit.”

Tommy laughed too. “Hey, no worries man. Looks a little looser on you than it was on Alan. Course, he was a bigger guy than you. Not that I minded, you know? More to hold on to.”

Beck’s laugh relaxed him
. Shit, I can see where this is going. And I want it! I want this fucking straight dude to give me that dick!
He looked over at the computer to see what all the fuss was about on track 3…what it was that would turn this straight dude on enough to want to fuck a gay guy.

A dark haired young guy was sitting in a neglected garden area in a cheap plastic lawn chair, shirtless, a big eagle tattooed on his chest. He was smoking, his dark good looks enhanced by his scowl, as he looked disdainfully at the stereotypical gay boy on his knees in front of him, waxed and smooth and shiny with a little quiff of gelled hair sticking up in the front.

Eagle dude held his cigarette up with a pinch of his thumb and forefinger, eyes narrowed down like he was sighting a target, and the target was the gay guy’s head. He casually reached behind the bottom’s head and thrust it down into the crotch of his gym shorts. Pretty boy eagerly pulled down the elastic and the already hard monster cock popped out. The dude grabbed the gay boy’s jaw and spat in his face, slapped it for good measure, and jammed his head down on his cock like he was a farm boy fucking a melon, casually taking another drag off his cigarette as he did it.

“Yeah,” Tommy whispered, rubbing his crotch, the lust in his eyes narrowing his own lids, sighting his own target: Beck. “That’s some hot
shit. I saw the flicker, man. Saw the porn flicker around the drapes. Knew what you were up to in here.”

“The what?”

“The porn flicker, dude. Dick goes in, dick goes out, in close up. Screen bright, screen dim, regular as fucking clockwork. You know someone’s watching porn when you see that. Turn the volume up on that.”

Beck gave a half-throttled laugh, his own sexual tension too high now to be eased by the absurdity. It was true, wasn’t it – you could tell when someone was watching porn just by the metronomic flicker. He raised the volume. The due was passionately face fucking his willing captive, hissing something in an unknown language.
Holy crap, this is a hell of a lot nastier than most American porn, isn’t it!

“Take off that shirt,” Tommy commanded. Beck tore it off and threw it aside. In the two seconds it had taken to pull it over his head, Tommy had crossed the room and as Beck turned to meet him, he pushed his crotch into Beck’s face. Beck went to pull Tommy’s shorts down and Tommy slapped his hands away. He pulled up the hem of his shirt to give Beck a flash of his ripped, hairless abs and V-cut hips.

“No.” He ground his dick into Beck’s face. Beck’s lips tried to wrap around it, getting a mouthful of fabric and ever-growing cock. “Chew on it.” Beck bit down and Tommy jumped back.

“Fuck!” He slapped Beck. “Easy on that!”

Beck had never been slapped, not during sex, anyway. The shock was electric, not just the surprise of it but the physical sensation, the…not what he’d call pain, but a sharp sting. A pleasant sting, he realized, a jolt to the system that was routed straight through his own stiffening cock.

And it wasn’t just the sensation, but the
feeling,
the knowledge that Tommy had taken over, was running things now, and there was a price to be paid for not doing shit right. It made him want to please Tommy…and yet also to displease him, to feel that sting again.

Tommy dropped his shorts, revealing his dirty grey briefs, distorted by the pressure of his huge cock. Gently now, Beck chewed on Tommy’s dick, chasing it around the clock as it grew from six to nine to high noon, fully erect now.

Tommy thrust his hips, ground them into Beck’s face, his hands wrapped around Beck’s skull. Beck looked up – Tommy wasn’t even looking at him, but at the scene on the computer. Beck couldn’t see it but he could hear it, could hear the sound of the top spitting, slapping, the sound of the bottom choking, hacking, trying to get his mouth off the ruthless cock and failing. The top whispered something in a foreign language, something dark and nasty and Slavic in a scratchy husky voice built for saying things like that.

“You like that shit?” Tommy whispered. Beck couldn’t answer but he nodded as enthusiastically as he could.
Damn, he had to go to Europe! Some filthy shit going on over there.

Tommy nodded back in confirmation, his big hand covering Beck’s face, now delivering little half slap-pats. Tommy was still not looking down at him, his mind on screen. “Fuck yeah. All you queers love this shit.”

He licked his hand and stuck it into Beck’s mouth, feeling around, spreading his own spit in there, testing to see how far Beck would let him go. Then, he took it out and gave Beck a wet, hard slap. Beck gasped with pain-pleasure, his eyes fluttering.

Tommy sighed. “Yeah, this is what I like. Cruising the motel, gettin’ it for free.” And with his free hand he finally pulled down the elastic of his briefs. His dick popped out, bouncing free.

Holy crap, that’s a fucking missile!
Tommy’s cock was all out of proportion to his body, as if all his body weight was hanging off his hips.

He grabbed Beck’s ears like the handles of a jug. “Yeah, fucking queers, man, they don’t fuck around. They just want to
do it
.” And for emphasis as he said the last two words, he thrust his cock all the way down Beck’s throat in one motion of his hips, forcing it open so hard his gag reflex couldn’t even kick in. His head was like a log in a splitter, Tommy’s dick was so huge inside him. Even when his gag reflex kicked in, it only excited Tommy more, as the muscles of Beck’s throat clenched harder around his cock as he tried to cough it out.

Tommy pulled off his t-shirt and twisted it up, then wrapped it around the back of Beck’s neck, holding Beck’s head in place while he fucked his face.

“Don’t move,” Tommy said, as if Beck could, as if he’d want to. He was loving this! He couldn’t believe himself, down on his knees before an anonymous straight dude, taking his cock for all he was worth, his kneecaps getting sanded down by the stained, thin motel carpet.

Tommy grabbed his head and turned it like a lid on a jar, pointing his face at the computer. “Check that shit out.”

Onscreen, the eagle-tatted dude threw the cocksucker off his dick with a shove, sending him to his hands and knees, and in a flash was behind him, his long, straight, rock hard piece pointed straight at that smooth white ass. No hesitation, no warning, RAM! In went his cock, as the camera captured the thrust, the cruel look on his face, and the pained shock on the sub’s. “Aaahh
!” he cried through the computer’s speakers, and Beck knew the sound was traveling through the walls, the floor, the ceiling of the shoddy motel, and he didn’t care.

“Dude can fuck,” Tommy said admiringly. He reached past Beck and pulled something out of the suitcase while Beck caught his breath. Then he dangled the cuffs in Beck’s face. “Time to get serious now.”

Beck’s eyes widened. This was too much, too far. “No, I don’t think…I can’t…”

To his surprise, Tommy cupped his chin gently and bent down, his face inches from Beck’s. Tommy’s blue eyes were hypnotic, so hot and so cold at the same time. “Man, I am not here to rob you, okay? Put your shit in the safe over there and lock it up.” Then the darkness passed over his face. “Then you’ll be cool when I fucking take you like that,” he said with a cock of his head towards the computer.

“Okay,” Beck surprised himself by saying. He grabbed his phone, his wallet, his keys, and tossed them into the little room safe. He looked over his shoulder before punching in the code but Tommy’s eyes were on the computer, one hand rubbing his dick, the other hanging slack, dangling the handcuffs. His valuables sealed up tight, he turned back towards Tommy.

This was a border I’m about to cross, he thought. In just a second I’m going to let a fucking stranger…restrain me! Some drugged-up white trash in a sleazy motel room…I’ll be his fucking
prisoner!
But the thought wasn’t terrifying, it was too fucking exciting, his dick too hard at the thought, to be terrifying. It was
hot.
His swollen balls overruled his brain now.

He knew what Tommy wanted. He wanted to take him like the guy on the screen was doing to his little slut! He got on his knees at the foot of the bed, facing the computer. He pressed his face down against the bed, turned to the side to see the screen, and put his hands behind his back.

“Aww
fuck yeah,” Tommy said, dancing with excitement. He grabbed Beck’s wrists, as roughly as a cop would do arresting a criminal, and the snick-snick-snick of the cuffs and the cold bite of the metal on his wrists make Beck gasp. On screen the ruthless beast was pounding the hell out of Blondie, grabbing his gelled-up hair like the horn of a saddle, riding him hard.

The cold splash of lube on his ass made Beck jump a little. He buried his face in the mattress, preparing himself for the onslaught.

But it didn’t come. “Easy, man,” Tommy whispered. “Relax. Enjoy the ride.” Then two long thin fingers were probing his asshole, massaging the outside of it, circling gently. The lube was warm now, the blood rushing to his sphincter in response to the pressure. Then like water down a drain the fingers made smaller circles, closer and closer to the pucker, pushing the flesh ever so slightly up and away from them, as if they were making a hole.

“Deep breath and hold,” Tommy said, and Beck inhaled. The fingers were still now, poised in place like a screw waiting for the drill. “And let it out.” And as Beck sighed, and his hole involuntarily relaxed, Tommy’s fingers slid past his sphincter.

Beck gasped as the rhythm changed. Now the thrust was long and insistent as the two fingers went in and out of his hole – all the way in till Beck felt the knuckle of Tommy’s little finger grind against his pelvic bone, the fingers slipping and twisting inside him. Then they came out smoothly, and his asshole gave a little pop.

Then, three fingers this time, harder, faster, more like a power screwdriver now, Tommy twisting his wrist as they entered to really open Beck up. Long, deliberate, careful motions, exquisitely timed so that even the pain of stretching out his asshole was generating endorphins, making his dick harder rather than soft, and Beck found himself arching his back to push his butt up, to push it onto Tommy’s fingers.

“Okay, all right.” He chuckled. “You thought I was gonna take you like that, didn’t you? Fucking throw you down and hammer your ass.”

“Yeah,” Beck said, half wishing he had.

Tommy bent over him, his smooth hard chest against Beck’s back, and slipped his arms under him to grasp him by the shoulders. His hot breath was in Beck’s ear, his huge hard cock slipping along Beck’s lube-slick crack. Tommy’s weight pressed down on him, and Beck found the tip of Tommy’s long cock easing into his cuffed hands. Instinctively he grasped it, massaged it, made love to the soft head.

“That’s it. Show me how much you want it.”

The cuffs rubbed and chafed and bit into his skin as he turned his hands, stroking Tommy’s cock. “Please,” he finally said, “please, fuck me.”

Tommy laughed. “Fuck yeah!” Then in a menacing tone that chilled Beck’s blood, as he whispered in his ear. “You’re gonna be sorry you asked in about an hour.” Beck remembered that Tommy was high, full of energy, could go on and on, long past when Beck would be spent and wasted.

Then Tommy put a hand on Beck’s throat, half stroking it and half choking it. Beck knew he should be terrified now, knew that this could be where it all went south, but something about the way Tommy had opened his ass, something about the way he’d made Beck put his shit in the safe to calm him down about that, told him that yeah, this was going to be intense, extreme,
dangerous
…but that was good. That was real good.

Both Tommy’s hands were on his neck now, the tips of his fingers just meeting, the choke a threat, a turn-on that Beck knew was keeping Tommy hard.

The head of Tommy’s dick was up against his hole now, and Tommy was squeezing his own asshole to make his dick dance and twitch against it. “Fucking queer,” Tommy whispered, “fucking cock whore.”

And yet for all that he was still being so slow, so careful. Without direction, Beck took a deep breath and held it. Tommy’s body reacted instinctively, freezing along with Beck’s. For a second they were both perfectly still. Then Beck let out his breath in a whoosh.

And with that, Tommy moved too, and the head of his cock slipped past the gate of Beck’s asshole. He didn’t stop, seized the moment, leveraged his hips and pushed.