The boy from the band

[smtw]

THE BOY FROM THE BAND

If you ever want a job where sex is a fringe benefit,
then get a job at a hotel. It can't be just any job, or
just any hotel, or just any location. The hotel must have a
bar, and that bar must be a part of the bar band circuit.
Holiday and Ramada are best for this. The job should be as
the hotel's night manager which will give you the necessary
free time as well as the opportunity for those special
public relations duties. The best location is a rural
southern town. There you may not be the only game in town,
but you will likely be the best game in town.
I had all of these elements going for me when I was in
graduate school. From one summer to the next, I had moved
from one hotel chain to the other (more money), and I had
discovered that I thoroughly enjoyed screwing guys (big
surprise).
The work routine was easy most of the time. I showed
up for work between 10 and 11 at night and finished ten
hours or so later. Of course, whenever the general manager
wanted to play hooky or had some sweet young thing secreted
in his room for the evening, I had to show up earlier.
Except for bouncing the occasional drunk from the bar, all I
had to do was to roam around the property until midnight.
At the witching hour, I took over the front desk and
prepared to balance the books for the inn. There might be a
rare late check-in, but in a rural Alabama town few tourists
were likely to wander through. By 12:30, the audit was
nearly complete except for the bar. At 1 o'clock during the
week and at 2 o'clock on the weekends, the bar manager would
show up with her receipts and make her cash deposits.
Fifteen minutes later, my audit would be complete, and I
could do whatever I pleased - sleep, read, meditate, listen
to music, just think or, if the Fates smiled on me, get
lucky. Usually, no one was around to bother me at all until
the kitchen staff began to drift in at 5 A.M.
Opportunities for sex were not lacking. If I wanted a
woman, there was always some bar cutie to put the moves on
or a bar waitress to lay. I had sampled a few of those. I
had even taken it a step further when I initially discovered
men. I spent the weekend with one of the bar waitresses and
her boyfriend. Aside from both of them giving me head, the
boyfriend's favorite activity was screwing her while I
fucked him. It was a weekend!
If I wanted a guy, there was always a traveling
salesman, a traveling executive, a truck driver, or a band
member. The traveling salesmen and traveling executives had
a fairly uniform routine. Either they stopped by the front
desk after the bar closed and didn't leave, or they dropped
by the front desk later, figuring everyone had gone. The
conversations always began with not being able to sleep, the
pressures at work, or the pressures at home. Somehow,
however it began, it would wind up with them behind the desk
slurping on or riding on my rod.
Truck drivers were a bit more rare. Most of them, I
guess, preferred to get their action on the road. The few
that preferred getting it on in a hotel setting were pretty
direct. They would wait until no one was around and simply
ask if you wanted to fool around.
If I had a preference, it was for the boys in the band.
Their attitude of reckless abandonment while performing on
stage often carried over into the bedroom making for really
hot sex.
When the band for the last week of July checked in, I
was the manager on duty. I was sitting in the bar talking
with a young plumber who, I was positive, wanted and needed
to be snaked out. I was pretty sure that nothing at the
desk could interest me as much. I was wrong!
The problem at the desk was simple; the new desk clerk
didn't know what rooms were to be used for the band. I gave
her the information, and she proceeded to check them in. I
had been so busy thinking about the plumber that I hadn't
paid attention to these guys. It was a five member band -
five men. I didn't have much of a reaction when I did
scrutinize the drummer, the bassist, the keyboard player and
the lead guitarist. They were okay...nice looking..., but
nothing to write home about. The lead singer was a
different story. He didn't look much different from the
rest of the band, but there was something very different
about him.
We were aware of each other even before our eyes met.
It was as if our charismatic auras collided like a high
speed train wreck. When we did make eye contact, we
exchanged that "knowing" sort of look. It ended when he
winked, and one of the other band members asked how to get
to the rooms. I grabbed a hotel map to give the directions,
and the lead singer used this opportunity to press in close
and make body contact. Despite the fact that there was
enough heat generated between us to melt all the gold in
Fort Knox, I kept my cool but just barely.
Nick was the singer's name. He was the kind of guy
that you'd love to throw down in the mud, wrestle with in
the muck and slime, subdue totally, dominate mentally,
physically, and emotionally and then pig fuck till he
squealed.
Nick was thin, but to call him a skinny white boy would
have gone too far. Sinewy probably best described his body.
He had adolescent hips, but his butt was firm and fleshy.
That butt looked as though it was built for rough riding and
endurance. Nick's hair was really long and naturally black.
It was a combination of wavy and frizzy as if it couldn't
quite make up its mind which to be. The biggest problem I
had with Nick's looks was his paleness. His coloring, or
near lack thereof, was in stark contrast to the darkness of
his hair. Since I am racially mixed, I kind of groove on
guys whose complexions are not at either extreme from my own
honey colored permanent tan.
Nick's face was an exercise in contradictions. He
sported a mustache which grew into and faded into a beard
that covered only his chin. Yet, even that attempt at
appearing devilish couldn't cover his soft boyish facial
features. He wound up looking much more impish than
threatening. His eyes, however, had a coldness about them
in their steel grey gaze. His eyes could trap you in to
staying much longer than you should.
When I first saw Nick, he was wearing tight leather
pants and a tank. He was pretty furry - chest, back, and
arms. Each arm and both shoulders were decorated with
tattoos. A black rose sprouted from his left bicep, a snake
slithered on his right arm, a butterfly flew over his left
shoulder, and a skull and crossbones design sat menacingly
on his right shoulder. Tats turn me on when they are worn
by the right kind of guy. Nick was the right kind of guy.
Though he was not what your mind would conjure up in
reaction to the word "butch", there was nothing feminine
about him.
Nick was a little prone to ornamentation. Like me, he
wore a silver chain around his neck. Nick also had both
ears pierced with a sapphire stud in one and a silver loop
in the other. His ears were not the only pierced part of
his body. Although only a part of the mental ring was
visible from beneath his tank, it was evident to me that his
right tit was pierced. Like the tattoos, the guy wore it
all quite well.
That Sunday night after everything had settled down and
the audit was done, I spent every moment plotting how to get
into Nick's pants. For me, that was a pretty radical step.
Though I might chase a skirt, I rarely went after a guy.
Usually, the guy had to make the first move; I, then, would
make all the subsequent moves. Nick was enough to make me
want to break this pattern.
By Monday night, I had my hormones under control. I
went in to hear the band. They were actually very good. It
was too bad that we only had them for a week, but they were
working their way out to the west coast. As I sat at the
bar, Nick strutted over in my direction while singing and
winked, just winked. I dutifully but grudgingly went to
work.
By the time the band stopped playing at 12:30, I was
engrossed in my work looking for a transposition error that
one of the desk clerks had made. Despite the band's noisy
exit, I would have missed them had it not been for Nick
coming over to the desk. In front of the other band
members, Nick told me that they were going to party and
asked me to come along. That voice of his was so raspy and
sexy that I threw a rod immediately. He winked at me again.
I told them that I had to keep the hotel running - what a
fucking corny answer. With several six packs in hand and a
couple of girls, the band went off to their rooms. I
eventually found the error, took Sheryl's bar report, and
balanced the books for the day. It was 1:30, I was bored,
and I was super horny.
After trying to read for forty-five minutes, I gave up
and decided to take a nap. I locked the front door, the
only external entrance, and went into the office. I
promptly propped my feet up and closed my eyes. As soon as
I had relaxed, the switchboard buzzed. Nick was on the
other end. He had left something in the bar and wanted to
come and get it. I told him to come ahead.
I unlocked the door for Nick and relocked it behind
him. I followed him into the bar to ask if I could help him
find whatever he was looking for. Actually, I followed him
into the bar because he was wearing this tiny pair of red
gym shorts that hugged his sweet ass unmercifully and
because the thought of jumping that ass would not leave my
mind.
"So when are you going to put the moves on me?" Nick
said as he turned to face me.
"What?" I stammered, being caught off guard.
"Unless I misread you completely, I'm pretty sure you
wanted to strip me naked yesterday." Nick said. "What
exactly is it that you want to do to me?"
Nick had moved in real close, but I had regained my
composure. I wasn't about to budge an inch.
"I want to fuck you long enough and hard enough to make
you without ever touching yourself." I responded with
feigned confidence.
"Suppose that I wanted to fuck you?" Nick indicated, a
little more tentative than before.
"Then I guess we'd both be shit out of luck cause I
don't do windows, floors or bottom for anybody."
"Damn! You are every bit the fucking stud that I
thought. Every guy I met during the last two gigs wanted me
to fuck him. I can flip-flop, but I am hot to get fucked by
a real man!"
Nick's statement set the unstoppable wheels in motion.
I grabbed the back of his head and a handful of hair and
kissed him hard. His breath was a mixture of beer and pot,
faintly masked by a breath spray, and I savored every flavor
his kiss could produce. Nick's hands automatically went to
my chest to push me away, but he couldn't summon any
strength. I had him now; I had tapped into his lust. His
arms went around my neck, and my hands captured his butt.
Our bodies seemed to melt together.
In the ensuing frenzy, all gentleness disappeared. We
were like addicts in need of a serious fix. I unzipped my
pants, forced him to his knees, made him suck me by pushing
his head up and down on my dick as far and as fast as I
could make it go. I pulled him up, pushed him down onto a
table which was braced against the rise in the floor that
formed the bandstand, ripped off his little red shorts,
started sucking him, and then rimmed him till he moaned out
loud.
I had no concept of right or wrong anymore; I had no
concept of societal rules and accepted conventions. All I
had was an incredibly primitive urge to satisfy myself.
Getting my cock in his ass was as necessary to my existence
as air to breathe. I spat on my hand, rubbed the saliva on
my dick, pushed his legs upward to create the proper
position, and shoved my cock into him. The fit was tight,
and the entry was anything but easy causing Nick to scream
out in pain and his ass to spasm in defense. None of this
was enough to stop me. I just started pounding his butt,
and I kept pounding and pounding and pounding.
Nick seemed to struggle to free himself of this
impalement, but I had his arms pinned to the table making
escape impossible. Like an animal, but even more like a
machine, I just kept fucking him and fucking him. As the
pain shifted to pleasure, Nick eased into the enjoyment of
being screwed by a madman.
"Fuck my white ass! Fuck my white ass!" I heard Nick
yell as I began to drift back to reality.
"Like my black dick, don't you white boy?"
"Love black dick in my ass. Fuck me harder! Oh, God,
yes! Harder! Harder!"
Nick's eyes had been closed initially, and his head
thrashed back and forth. They were now open, and he stared
intently into mine as he yelled every word. It was like a
contest. No matter what I dished out to him, he was
determined to take it and demand more.
"Pig fuck my butt! Do it! Come on, shove it to me
now!"
I would have thought it impossible that I could fuck
anyone harder than I was fucking Nick, but his words
triggered something. My thrusts became even harder and even
faster till the sounds my slamming into his ass echoed
through the room.
"You fucking bastard! You got it. You're gonna make
me do it! Oh, God. Oh, God! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Cum shot out of Nick's dick. It splattered everywhere.
One small spurt landed on my lips. I licked it to enjoy its
salty, sweet taste. Nick's ass began twitching
spasmodically around my cock, and I couldn't hold off a
second more. It felt more like I was pissing in his ass
than ming in it.
"Milk that black dick, you fucking whore! Drain all
that out of it!"
I came so hard that I felt an ache and an emptiness in
my balls. Both Nick and I zoned after getting off, but the
cramping in his legs and the pain of my zipper digging into
my balls brought us back to the mundane. We disengaged.
"Damn good fuck, man! It has been years since someone
plowed a load out of me."
Nick pulled his shorts back on, and I adjusted my
clothes and cock, zipped my pants to avoid that "I just got
a piece" appearance. We walked from the bar into the office
and had a well deserved smoke. We chatted mostly about sex
and exchanged double entendres. In the process of
conversation, I learned that most of the other guys in the
band were totally straight, but they had no problem with
Nick's preference. Everything was open, including the
drummer's bisexuality. According to Nick, two or three
times a year the drummer got the urge and went stalking to
find a male partner. Nick told me that there had been times
when several band members were getting in on with their
dates in the same room. No one cared who you were with as
long as you weren't holding up his action. Only one rule
for the group endured; there was no fooling around among
band members.
"Hey, we didn't find your bracelet." I said.
"I got what I came after." Nick said smugly. "I just
didn't get enough!"
With that, Nick slid off the desk where he had been
sitting and posing, dropped to his knees, and started
licking the stains on my grey trousers as I sat in the
chair behind the desk.
"I need more dick. Make me suck it. Make me take it
up the ass.!" Nick whispered as he unzipped my pants and
sucked my semihard rod.
"Yeah, that's it, pussyboy. Suck that dick. Get it
nice and hard so I can fuck you with it."
It had started again. Nick and I didn't excite one
another; we drove each other into a maniacal frenzy. I
braced myself on the arms of the chair and began thrusting
into his mouth. That wasn't enough. I grabbed him by the
hair forcing him down onto my dick as I stood. I humped his
mouth, sliding my dick deep into his throat. Nick groped my
thighs so hard that I felt his fingerprints being embedded
in them. Somehow in the madness of being sucked I managed
this time to disentangle myself from my clothes.
I made him lick my balls and kept forcing him on until
he reached my ass. I turned around and pulled his face
tight to my ass. His tongue went after my hole with full
force. As his beard slid up and down my crack, I found
myself moaning. Except for my dick, every muscle in my
lower region was relaxing in total ecstasy. I had to piss
like you wouldn't believe. I took a few steps and drug
Nick, who was still rimming me for dear life, along with me.
I started pissing in the potted plant near the desk, but I
stopped before fully emptying my bladder. I whirled around
to face the kneeling singer.
"Lick the piss off my dick!" I ordered.
"Make me, fucker!" he yelled back.
"Take it!" I demanded.
"Fuck you!" Nick screamed scooting away from me.
I grabbed him by the hair again to hold him in place,
slapped his face hard with my dick until he opened his
mouth, and then shoved my cock deep inside his mouth. I
sighed as I emptied the small amount of piss left in my
bladder. Nick drank the piss like he was chugging a beer.
He collapsed on the floor when he had finished, only then
realizing what he'd done. My dick was totally hard, and I
was anything but finished with him.
"Get up, cunt, so I can fuck that asspussy of yours."
I commanded while waving my dick at him.
"Fuck you, asshole!" he challenged.
My hand darted down, and my finger slipped into his tit
ring. Panic swept his face.
"Get up, fucker, or I'll fuckin' rip it out!"
Slowly and carefully, Nick eased his way up with my
finger still inside the ring until he stood with his butt
against the desk. My free hand grabbed his balls, and I
removed my finger from its dangerous location. We had
locked into one another's eyes. I gradually increased the
pressure I was applying to his balls.
"What do you want, cocksucker? Tell me what you want!"
I yelled in Nick's face as I squeezed even harder.
"I want you to fuck me!" he moaned as his face
contorted from the pain.
"Want me to fuck you sweet and gentle?" I said
sarcastically while tightening my grip again.
"Oh, God!" he cried out in pain. "Fuck me like a bitch
in heat! Please, fuck me now!"
I let go of his balls, spun him around, pushed him
facedown toward the desk, yanked his shorts down, leaned my
face down to his ass, spat on his butt, rubbed the spittle
into his hole, and stuck my dick fully into his man cunt.
"You got that fuckin' dick in me, black boy, now show
me you know how to fuck a man!" Nick hissed at me.
I pulled my dick all the way out, and then shoved it
back into him as hard as I could. Nick screamed, lunged
forward without escaping, braced himself on one arm on the
desk, grabbed his own dick, and started pounding his meat.
"God dammit! Shit! Fuck my hole!"
Nick was fucking back on my dick and jerking his cock
every bit as hard as I was shoving my pecker into him. The
entire time he kept screaming "Fuck me! Fuck me!" over and
over again, getting louder with each cry. Sweat was pouring
off our bodies as they slapped together. I found myself
gasping for air.
"Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! I'm ming!" Nick gasped as he
began shooting his load across the desk.
He kept whacking away at his meat and kept oozing
out. I kept fucking him though I wasn't close to ming.
After a while, the continued plowing became too much for
Nick.
"Man, I can't take that dick anymore."
I pulled out and started beating off hoping to
soon. Nick turned around, squatted, and started licking my
balls.
"Shoot that load, man. Shoot it all over my fuckin'
face! Make me eat that !"
The words were too powerful. I went over the edge.
The first squirts splattered on his face and trickled down.
Nick engulfed my cock and swallowed all the rest of my
flowing jism.
We were both spent for real this time. We laid on the
floor holding each other. For the first time, we were
gentle and loving as opposed to being trapped by
irresistible lust. After a half an hour or so of kissing,
cuddling, licking and nibbling, we redressed.
Our timing was perfect. We walked outside in the
morning air to talk and smoke. I had only had a couple of
drags from my cigarette when Gladys, the head cook, arrived.
She bade us a good morning and asked what I wanted for
breakfast. After she left, we kissed goodbye.
"Think you can make me take that dick everyday that I'm
here?" Nick asked coyly.
"If not, I'll fuckin' kill us both trying." I said with
a big smile on my face.
Nick and I did get it on everyday while he was there.
Hot, sweaty, rough, and mindless fucking was what we needed
from each other, and that is what we gave each other. And
each day, Nick made it a little different. Our first fuck
session could have been called a rape fantasy, and each one
that came after that got even wilder.
When Nick showed up for our second fuck session, he was
wearing, underneath a long coat, a black leather vest, black
leather shorts, and black leather cowboy boots, along with a
holster containing a dildo. He insisted on riding my dick
until he came. He would then suck me off while I dildo
fucked him. As before, we couldn't stop at just once.
Thursday morning, we got stoned. Everything went into
slow motioned surrealness. I licked the outline of his
tattoos, I ravaged his nipples, and I chewed on his balls.
We fucked and fucked, too lost in the pleasure to . When
I finally felt us both get close, I ripped a mouthful of
hair from his chest. He was too stoned to scream, we both
were too stoned to care, and we just kept oozing love juice
until we collapsed. We were awakened by Gladys' banging on
the door to be let in so she could get the kitchen ready for
breakfast. That one was close.
On Friday morning, Nick showed up in full slave's
attire, hidden, of course, beneath his coat. My eyes
followed the black leather strap that ran up his hairy belly
joining another metal ring at the center of his chest. Four
other black leather straps also attached to that ring. Two
headed out left and right around his chest and connected to
another ring in the back as did the two that stretched up
his chest and over his shoulders. Shackles adorned his
wrists and feet. From each shackle dripped chains designed
to be connected - hand to hand, foot to foot, and hands to
feet. Nick wore a studded, thick leather collar that nearly
made the flesh of his neck invisible. A leash was attached
to the collar; he handed the leash to me along with a riding
crop. He knelt in a most dramatic fashion before me and
told me that he was mine to do with as I wished.
Knowing that our time together was waning made the sex
even more desperate than before. I wrapped the leash around
my hand and face fucked him so hard that he gagged for the
first time. I connected all the dangling chains forcing him
to literally grab his own ankles and bend over. Each time I
hit his butt with the riding crop, I exorcised more of my
frustration at the transient nature of what Nick and I had
between us. With each red mark that appeared on his ass,
Nick cried out that he was my bitch...my whore...my boy. I
fucked him with pure anger. The ass pounding that I gave
him that morning was intensely fierce and evil. It took
longer for either of us to get off than ever before. With
nearly every stroke my dick made into his ass, Nick would
sob the words "I'm sorry".
All day Friday I was in a blue funk. I snapped at
anyone who crossed me. By work time, I had come to better
grips with the reality of the situation. Come Sunday, no
matter what I wanted, Nick was leaving.
Saturday morning, Nick arrived sans fantasy gear and
looking disturbed. Despite the fact that we had less time
because the band played later on weekends, we sat and really
talked to one another. We confessed love for one another,
we admitted the confusion and depression that we each had
experienced, and we both concluded that we were not the best
option for one another at that time.
Talk turned in to touching. Touching led to kissing.
This time we didn't start with passion at its zenith and try
to force it higher. We were at slow burn with each touch,
each kiss, each nibble, and each lick moving us toward
inferno. We made love for the very first time. Right
there, on the floor of the lobby in an almost secluded
corner, we made love. The sensation was like being inside
him for the first time. Each thrust of my dick into him was
met by an equal response from his ass. The rhythm of our
bodies meeting grew gradually faster and faster. We could
not stop kissing one another; it got hotter and hotter. We
were both screaming and both ming. This time it was
different. This time the orgasm wasn't just physical and
mental. It was also emotional because this time we really
cared.
The band was popular with the crowd, and the manager
wanted to hold them over. However, they had other
commitments; they packed up their equipment and left after
they finished playing Saturday. Sunday morning was kind of
empty, even the young plumber couldn't quite fill the void,
though he tried his damndest.
We would have had them back, except the demo that they
had cut a few months earlier splashed into the top twenty on
the charts. They had it good for a while, but the success
didn't keep rolling in. Guess they were another one of
those one hit wonders of the music business. Within a year
they were back on the bar circuit.
Got a few calls from Nick over the years, but I never
laid eyes nor hands on him again. I still wonder about him
from time to time - where he is and what happened to him.
And, of course, I wonder if the sex would still be as good
now as it was then.

 

[str8but]

Smoking hot
thank you for sharing it
str8