A gay sex stories: The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 02 They slept naked; no alarms were set for Saturday morning. They woke up whenever the hell they wanted to. Atlanta’s weekend came to life and breathed beneath them. Neither had any plans for the day, other than hanging out together.
Around 7am, Ace squeezed out from under Pete’s comforter to empty his bladder, trying not to wake his sexy companion. He was still sleepy, and as soon as he’d finished peeing, he returned to Pete’s bed.
Pete mumbled something in his sleep, but Ace wasn’t sure what it was. He fell back into a deep sleep of his own.
They both woke, hungry, around 10.30am.
Pete woke up to the feel of Ace spooning him from behind. He felt Ace’s warm breath falling on his ear. He blinked, yawned and stretched, and his movements woke Ace up.
“Hey sexy,” Pete whispered, grabbing Ace’s arm, holding him close.
“Morning, dude,” came Ace’s reply. “Sleep well?”
“Mmmmm, sure did,” Pete smiled.
Ace grazed his fingertips across Pete’s naked chest, lightly touching his nipples. Pete moaned. Fuck, that felt good.
“I’m a little hungry,” Ace declared. “Could use some breakfast. What about you?”
Pete rolled over to face Ace. He kissed him deeply. “Yeah. I’m hungry too.” And he knew what he wanted to eat.
Pete began kissing Ace’s neck, and Ace’s skull lolled back in bliss. He reached down to touch his dick, fully expecting it to be hard. It was. He stroked it gently while he continued kissing and sucking Ace’s sexy neck. Pete gazed deep into Ace’s eyes, kissing his mouth again, tasting his tongue.
Pete dived under his comforter and swallowed Ace’s dick. He heard Ace exhale in bliss. A lazy morning blowjob was, without doubt, the best way for any man to wake up. He stroked Ace’s shaft while he licked the head with his sweet, fat tongue.
He remembered last night’s bet. Last night, he wanted to make Ace cum as quickly as possible just to prove that he could, but this morning, he was looking forward to giving him a long, slow, languid suck. He scooted down towards the foot of his mattress to make himself more comfortable.
He lightly stroked Ace’s inner thighs before tickling his balls. His fingertips teased Ace’s butthole as he began tonguing his sensitive nutsack. Sucking one ball into his mouth, followed by the other, he tickled Ace’s ass until he felt him squirm.
“You like that?” he asked.
Ace nodded. He couldn’t form words.
Pete’s fingers tickled the length of Ace’s pulsating shaft while his other hand continued massaging his asshole. He put his middle finger into his mouth and wet it before inserting the digit into Ace’s anus. He knew what he was looking for: his prostate gland. He found it and pressed gently. He heard Ace gasp.
Pete sucked Ace’s cock back into his mouth, ploughing right down to the base. Ace nearly lost what was left of his mind. Almost immediately, Pete pulled his mouth back off Ace, teasing the underside of his dick with just the tip of his tongue. His finger was still massaging Ace’s prostate.
Ace thrust forward, desperately trying to fuck Pete’s face. “Fuck, man, you’re gonna make me …”
Pete’s finger applied delicate, exquisite pressure on Ace’s gland, and Ace flexed uncontrollably. He felt Ace’s boipussy clench around his finger.
Ace’s first rope of cum fired metres into the air before splash-landing onto his chest. Pete sucked him back into his mouth, tugging on his twitching shaft. He wanted to feel Ace pulsing onto his tongue.
Pete removed his finger from Ace’s hole. He traced circles around his sensitive, spasming anus with his fingertip. He hadn’t swallowed. He took one last suck of Ace’s cock, making sure to get every last drop.
Ace knew what was coming. He opened his mouth to let Pete drool his thick load onto his tongue, and the two sexy long-haired metalheads swapped Ace’s sperm back and forth for a few moments.
Eventually, Ace swallowed his own jizz.
“Breakfast?” asked Pete.
“I’ll be ready in a second. I just need to put my shoes on,” replied a clearly naked Ace.
They each brushed their teeth and began to get dressed. Ace pulled his jeans on and threw an Iron Maiden t-shirt over his shoulders. Pete wore a pair of denim shorts and a Slayer tee. “You remember last night’s bet?” Pete teased. “Don’t you?”
Ace pouted. “You … what? … are you serious about that?” he asked.
Pete grinned.
“But I thought you were just showing off at how good your BJ technique is.”
Pete shook his head. “A bet’s a bet, isn’t it?”
Ace sighed in defeat. He found his bag. He extracted the bottle of lube he carried everywhere he went, along with the buttplug he’d prepared to wear when Boipussy played at Eternal tomorrow night. Pete watched as Ace lubed himself up before delicately inserting the plug. Ace sighed; it felt so good. He made sure it was all the way in — the flared base rested snugly against his ass cheeks. “You enjoy the show?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Sure as hell did.” Pete was hard just from watching Ace plug himself, but right now, food was a higher priority than sex.
*
They caught the elevator to the ground floor, and Pete led his boyfriend to his local coffee shop.
“Feels weird,” Ace reported.
“Huh?” asked Pete.
“The plug. Feels weird. In my ass.”
Pete wanted to ask Ace why it felt strange wearing the plug walking down the street, but it didn’t feel weird when he was onstage. There was plenty of time for that question later. As he thought about the intricacies of his boyfriend’s asshole, he was surprised to feel his hand being gripped. As they walked the next few steps, they held hands for the briefest of seconds. Ace didn’t care who noticed or if anyone was offended. He turned to face Pete. “You’re mine,” he whispered.
Ace would’ve loved to pull Pete into an alley and kiss him, but that might’ve been a step too far. He didn’t know very much about Atlanta’s levels of tolerance. And besides, he knew Pete worked in an office nearby. He didn’t know if his boyfriend was out to his co-workers.
They arrived at the coffee shop, and a waiter led the party of two to a table. Ace sat down very carefully. The waiter handed them menus and they ordered coffees.
“Fuck, check him out,” Ace gasped as his eyes followed the waiter.
“Yeah, he’s sexy.” Pete gawked at the waiter’s tight jeans that showcased his fat ass, and his long, brown hair tied back in a tight bun. “I’ve got a serious thing for dudes who wear nose rings,” he disclosed.
“Fuck yes,” replied Ace, checking out their waiter’s beautiful face and pierced nose. “Same. I’ve always thought that if a guy is ugly, a nose ring and a little stubble can at least make him look semi-attractive. And if he’s already hot to begin with, then fuckin’ hold me back.”
Pete knew what he was gonna do next week. He’d often wondered what he’d look like with a nose ring, and he decided that it was time to find out.
The waiter wafted across to deliver their coffees. They couldn’t stop staring at him. The waiter smiled. “Enjoy,” he said, turning to walk away.
“He’s getting a big tip when we’re done,” said Pete.
“I wanna give him a big tip of my own.” Ace reached under the table and adjusted his crotch.
Just at this moment, the waiter looked back across to their table and winked.
“Fuck, dude, did you see that?” breathed Ace.
“You’re such a fucking slut, Ace,” Pete joked. He aspired to tame Ace’s easy ways, but in his heart, he knew he might not be able to. Besides, there was no denying it, their waiter was off the chart. That nose ring was fucking killer.
They sipped their coffees while Ace mentally undressed the waiter. Despite having already lost a load today, the plug buried in his boipussy made him feel extra-horny. Eventually, the waiter came over to take their breakfast order.
“What would you two like to order?” their waiter asked. He was wearing an apron, and he held a pen and a writing pad in his hands.
Ace closed his menu and answered with a question of his own. He flicked his long, blonde hair away from his face, and looked the waiter directly in the eye. “Sorry for blurting this out, but you look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?” Ace fluttered his eyelids and played with his hair. “Like, I don’t watch very many movies, but are you an actor, maybe?”
Pete sighed. ‘OK, so this is Ace’s cheesy pick-up line,’ he thought to himself.
The waiter chewed on the end of his pen for a second or two as he prepared to answer. His tongue wrapped around the tip of the lid. He maintained eye-contact with Ace the whole time. “Unfortunately, I think you’re mistaken.”
Ace casually rebalanced his weight on the plug. “That’s a shame,” he smiled, stifling a moan.
The waiter glanced at Pete as he took a sip of his coffee. He assumed his two customers were together, and that they were both hungry. He turned back towards Ace. “What can I get you two for breakfast?”
Ace resisted the urge to ask for a fat sausage with a serving of thick mayonnaise. He flicked back his blonde mane. “Could I have the French toast, please?”
The waiter turned to Pete. “And what can I get for you?”
“Umm … can I have the pancakes with icecream, please?”
“No problem,” said the waiter. He collected the menus and walked back to the kitchen.
Pete began to speak. “Hey, so I need to tell you this story …”
Ace interrupted. “Wait, fucking shut up for a second. That man is sex on legs.”
“Wipe the drool off the corner of your mouth, Ace.”
Ace reached for a napkin and dabbed his lips. “I want to take him out back and make him bend me over. If the French toast comes out and it’s drenched in his cum instead of maple syrup, I’d still eat it.”
Pete recoiled. “Ew! Gross, dude! Anyway, shut the fuck up. I need to tell you a story.” He paused to take a breath. “So, you know Carlos? Frontman for my band? Anyway, one night, we were at band rehearsal, and we took a break for a few minutes. He told us about how he took Gorilla out for breakfast one morning. He ordered pancakes, smeared icecream all over his face like it was cum, jammed his foot into Gorilla’s crotch under the table, and gave him a footjob. Made him lose his shit inside his pants.”
“Well, there’s no doubt that Carlos is a sexy motherfucker,” replied Ace.
Pete nodded. They both agreed on that. “One of the best things about playing drums in Ass To Mouth is I’ve got an awesome view of his hot ass while he sings.”
“Am I about to get a surprise footjob from you?” asked Ace.
“Isn’t my mouth good enough for you?” came Pete’s sultry reply.
Ace leaned back on the plug and moaned.
Their food arrived, and to Pete’s relief, Ace’s meal was drowned in maple syrup, and not their waiter’s cum. They talked about music while they ate, and they formed plans for the rest of the day. Pete had planned to show Ace some of his city.
They stood up from their table after breakfast. Their stomachs were full, and there were no surprise footjobs.
Pete visited the bathroom while Ace paid their waiter with his card, making sure their hands touched as the transaction took place. He glanced up at the waiter as the machine beeped. “I’m leaving you a tip,” he said, “but if you want to give me your tip later, I can leave you my number.”
The waiter laughed, flicking his hair back. “Wow, you leave it all out on the park, don’t you? I thought you might’ve been hitting on me before. Sorry, dude. You’re cute, but I’m straight.”
Ace felt his sphincter clench around his buttplug. “I was definitely hitting on you,” he said, “and you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Ace reported the unwelcome news. “Fuck,” he pouted. “He’s straight.”
Pete wrapped a sympathetic arm around Ace’s shoulder as they walked out onto the street. “Awwww, poor boislut. Looks like you’re gonna have to put up with me instead.”
Ace nervously hustled Pete over to a quiet corner of the street. “I need to tell you something before things go too far between us.” His ass squirmed on the plug. “I have a confession to make.”
Pete waited.
“I’m not quite sure how to put this, but … when you called me a boislut just now, it’s kind of true … Pete, I need to be honest … I need to tell you … sometimes, I can be a total slut for cock.”
Pete raised a cynical eyebrow. He remembered learning about how Carlos fucked Ace in the Eternal loading dock the night before Gorilla died. “No shit,” he deadpanned.
“Maybe it’s a little different when you’re the frontman,” Ace explained. When I’m performing on stage, I’m trying to engage the audience as directly as I can. It’s my job to make sure everyone is on their feet, rockin’ out and havin’ a good time. I try to look at the people in the crowd as individuals, not as a collective. I try to look people in the eye while I’m singing. And I guess I’ve found a way to pick out the sexy dudes in the crowd, and I circle my attention back to them a few times during the set, just to make sure they know that if they want to have some fun with me after the show, I’m available.”
“Yeah, I kind of get it,” Pete admitted. “I’m sure Carlos does the exact same thing when A2M plays. Most nights after we play, he makes an excuse to leave the band room early, and everyone knows why — he’s already lined up a guy to fuck. But it’s hard for me to make eye contact with people in the crowd when I’m way up the back of a stage behind a drum kit. But it really doesn’t matter anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Ace asked.
“Well, I don’t think I’d have the confidence to be a front man in the first place, and even if I was, there’s no way I’d be confident enough to pick out hot boys in the crowd.”
“But you’ve got a good view of Carlos’s ass, don’t you?” Ace smiled out the corner of his mouth.
Pete couldn’t deny it. “Some nights, I’m fucking hypnotised by it.” He paused for a moment. “But like I said a second ago, I’m not confident. I don’t think I’ve ever tried to pick up a guy in my life. I wouldn’t know what to say or do. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to stand in front of a band on stage, picking out dudes to fuck. I’m guessing you’d need balls of steel to do that, and I don’t. I’m happy up the back of stage, in the engine room.”
Ace wondered if he could give Pete some special tips on how to hit on dudes, but at the same time, he felt like he’d finally found someone special, and he needed to curb his instincts. Or, at the very least, he needed to try.
“I really like you, Pete, and I’m going to try to be faithful to you.”
Pete nearly doubled over with laughter. “Yeah, OK, whatever, dude.” He wiped tears of mirth out of his eyes.
Ace was offended. “Why are you laughing, Pete?”
“Because I just saw you hitting on the waiter at the café like fucking five minutes ago!”
“Sorry about that,” blushed Ace.
“Besides, I was never expecting you to be ‘faithful’, in your quaint, old-fashioned words. Life’s too short. This ain’t the 1950s, we’ve got colour TV now. Fuck whoever you want. Just be careful, and make sure don’t fucking catch anything. I don’t want you to get sick, and I don’t want you to get me sick either.”
“That’s so sweet, Pete. But I’m still gonna try really hard not to fuck around on you.”
“You won’t last a month,” Pete challenged.
“Is this another bet?” Ace felt the plug in his ass.
Pete shrugged. “Sure. If you want.”
“What do I win if I can last a month?”
Pete stroked his chin and smiled an evil grin. “I’ll get back to you on that. I need to think of something sinister and evil. But when you go back to Florida after this weekend, how will I know if you aren’t flashing your ass to random metalheads? I know your type, man. Long hair, tattoos and denim.”
“Is your ‘type’ (Ace did the dramatic airquotes) any different to mine?”
Pete had no response. Of course it was.
“So you’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?” Ace concluded.
“There’s a reason your band is called Boipussy, right?” Pete laughed. “You’re such a fucking cock slut.”
Ace smiled. He knew it was true, but he felt the need to deflect the challenge. “You gonna show me your shitty-ass town?”
*
Pete led Ace to the central bus interchange. “OK, here are your options. One. Zoo slash aquarium. Two. Coca-Cola museum. Three. MLK memorial site.”
Ace wanted to fuck. “Four: Your place. Fuck the museums.”
Pete smiled. “Excellent choice. And my place is within walking distance.”
They walked back the way they came, but this time, Pete reached for Ace’s hand. He gripped it tightly, and he didn’t let it go.
They caught the elevator back to Pete’s floor, and their tongues were fighting like demons before the door was closed. Their faces parted for a split second. “I fucking want you so bad,” said Ace.
“I’m yours,” Pete whispered. He threw his red Irish hair back.
Ace gazed at the beautiful constellation of freckles that adorned Pete’s cheeks and nose. His hands reached up to grip Pete’s jaw. Their lips met, and their tongues danced again like fire.
Ace was still wearing his buttplug, and as he felt Pete’s tongue mash against his own, he felt his ass twitching around it. “I wanna fuck you,” he breathed.
Pete mock-laughed and rolled his eyes back. “Again?” he smiled. He’d let Ace fuck him anytime, anywhere.
But Ace wasn’t smiling or laughing. He was consumed by lust. “Yeah, Pete. I fucking want you.”
“Then come to bed.” Pete led Ace back to his room. They lay down under Pete’s comforter and kissed for what felt like an eternity. Their dicks were beginning to leak.
Pete lay on his back. He spread his thighs and stretched his hole, lifting his hips into the air. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Ace’s mouth was drawn to Pete’s pussy like a moth to a flame. He couldn’t get enough. He was so consumed with eating Pete’s ass that for a moment he forgot all about the plug in his ass, but that was soon about to change.
Pete grabbed Ace by the hair and gently coaxed his tongue out of his pussy. He wanted something else instead. “Fuck me?” he pleaded.
Ace was already hard. He thrust into Pete’s hole, and as soon as he felt Pete clenching his shaft, his own boipussy gripped the plug still buried deep inside him. He’d almost forgotten it was there, but as soon as his cock plunged deep, the feeling was absolutely indescribable. “Fuck, Pete … the plug … fuck … I’m gonna …”
They locked eyes and Pete reached up to touch Ace’s nipples.
“No, don’t do that … please, fuck … don’t touch me there …”
Pete squeezed hard.
“Fuck, dude, I can’t … no, stop …”
On the fifth thrust, Ace flooded Pete’s cunt with the thick seed of a thousand loads. The pleasure of unloading inside his boyfriend while wearing a fat plug in his own ass was completely off the chart. He stayed hard, but the pulses of his orgasm were too insistent to be denied. His ass twitched uncontrollably, clutching the plug. He couldn’t thrust anymore; all he could do was stay inside his boyfriend, not moving. He felt his cock twitching, but his balls were completely dry, and it felt like there was no more semen for him to expel.
Pete felt his pussy grip Ace’s shaft like it never wanted to let him go. “Did that feel good?” he cooed. He teased Ace’s nipples again.
Ace was beyond words. Pete felt a drop of sweat land on his stomach.
“It’s a good thing I can’t have babies,” Pete said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because if I could, you would’ve just given me triplets. I’ve never felt anyone cum inside me so hard in my life.”
Ace grinned. He leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. His erection was going nowhere. The plug in his boipussy was fucking dynamite; it wouldn’t let him go soft. He began to thrust again. He felt the warmth of his load rippling against the head of his dick as he began to pick up speed.
He didn’t know if he could cum again, but he felt like he could stay hard for a week. He resolved to put his erection to good use — he was gonna see if he could fuck a load out of Pete. He rested his weight on top of Pete’s torso and ploughed him fast.
Pete moaned. He felt Ace’s weight bearing down upon him, he smelled his sexy scent, he felt his long blonde hair tickling his chest, and he felt his dick in his pussy. “Fuck me, Ace,” he whispered. “Keep fucking me. I love you.”
“I love you too, Pete.” Ace’s cock twitched again, and Pete’s pussy gripped it hard. Nothing came out — Ace was physically spent from shooting his first load — but the sensation felt the same. And as he collapsed on top of Pete’s body, he felt a thick warmth.
He’d made Pete cum, just from penetration. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever done that to anyone else before. He lifted his head and gazed at Pete’s beautiful freckles. Pete’s mouth lay open, wordless, in ecstasy.
Ace reached down between them and scooped up some of his boyfriend’s load. It was so fucking warm. He put his fingers onto his tongue, drinking Pete in.
Ace finally pulled out and lay next to his boyfriend. He stroked Pete’s chest and kissed his neck. “It’s official.”
“What’s official?” asked Pete.
“My balls. They’re empty.”
“Aww poor baby,” Pete responded. He reached down to massage Ace’s nutsack.
They smiled deliriously at each other.
“I don’t know about you,” said Pete, “but all this sex gets exhausting.”
“I know what you mean,” Ace replied. “Is it time for a lazy weekend catnap?”
“Yeah,” Pete giggled. “There’s heaps to do in Atlanta, but lying next to you is better than visiting any museum.”
“You can show me your city another time. I’m sure I’ll be back.”
Pete rolled over onto his side, and Ace lovingly scratched his back until he heard his boyfriend begin to snore.
Ace’s cock was still hard. The plug was still in, and he knew he wasn’t allowed to take it out until tomorrow.
Pete slept like a log, but Ace only slept lightly. His dick was delicately wedged between Pete’s ass cheeks as his arm enveloped his chest.
Time passed, and the sun began to set.
*
They woke up as the moon began to rise. Despite the plug, Ace eventually fell into a coma, but eventually, his hungry stomach woke him up. He shook Pete from behind. “Hey, dude. Wake up.”
“Fuck off.” Pete was in the middle of a sweet dream. He was swimming in the ocean, and he felt safe and warm.
“C’mon, dude.” Ace’s tummy rumbled.
Pete’s beach disintegrated. He opened his eyes and rubbed the sand out of them. He rolled over and focused on Ace. “Fuck, man, you woke me up.”
“I know I did. Aren’t you hungry? Let’s get something to eat.”
Pete stretched, yawned, and farted. “Hear that?” he said. He remembered Ace’s punishment from last night. “Bet you can’t drop a fart right now, can you?”
The thought hadn’t crossed Ace’s mind. Is it possible to fart while you’re plugged? He responded to the challenge, purely in the interests of science. “Wait,” he said, focusing all his efforts on expelling a juicy stinkbomb. He had one in him, he just couldn’t make it bubble up to the surface.
Pete grinned. “Come on, push it out, dude.”
Ace struggled and strained. “Can’t make it happen.” He sweated and pushed, and miraculously, he gave birth. “There it goes.”
The rancid scent wafted across to Pete. “If you’re hungry, you might want to make some room for more food first.”
“Huh?” replied Ace.
“Maybe take a shit before we go out.”
“But then I’d need to take the plug out,” said Ace. “I thought that was the bet? That I needed to keep it in until tomorrow?”
Pete kissed him, burying his tongue deep in Ace’s throat. He smiled. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Ace said. He stood, bent forward slightly and squeezed as he slowly let the buttplug fall out. After Ace’s recent effort to squeeze out a fart, let’s just say it needed a serious clean.
“Fuck, that was hot,” whispered Pete. “Show me your gape?”
Ace leaned forward. It was a little messy, but his boipussy was gaped wide enough for someone to drive a truck into it. Sideways. “You gonna take a dump before we go out?” Pete asked.
“Yeah. But you aren’t allowed to watch.” Ace headed to the bathroom and locked the door.
Pete pouted. He waited patiently as Ace’s digestive system destroyed his apartment.
Ace flushed and opened the door. “Nobody smoke,” he joked.
Pete hit the exhaust fan and pinched his nose. “Get dressed. We’re going to Eternal. The sun is setting and it’s time for a meal and some drinks. The time is metal o’clock.”
Ace threw a faded Fear Factory t-shirt over his shoulders. He flopped his tongue out and raised his devil horns. “I’m ready.”
Pete looked down at Ace’s flaccid dick. “Maybe put some pants on first.”
Ace looked down at his junk. “Oh. Yeah. There’s that. I’ll grab some pants.”
Pete looked at Ace’s naked feet. “And some shoes.”
Ace was still hopping into his pants. “Yeah. I’ll pull my boots on.”
“Fuck, you’re cute,” Pete said.
Ace nearly blushed. “Shut the fuck up and get us an uber.”
Pete grinned as his fingertips danced across his touchscreen. He couldn’t remember the last time he ever felt this happy.
*
Pete asked the driver to drop them off a block away from Eternal. He led Ace into a burger joint. Fifteen minutes later, they sat at a table, facing each other, each with a haloumi burger and a side of fries in front of them. Pete paid.
The burger contained lettuce, cheese, tomato, onion, pickles, jalapenos, and two thick slices of pan-fried haloumi. The whole production was drowned in ketchup and mustard.
Ace unwrapped his burger. He looked at his plate and flicked his hair out of his face. “That’s fucking massive. That might be the biggest burger I’ve ever seen. Why the fuck did we order fries? Do I eat this fucker with my hands, or a knife and fork, or maybe even with a front-end loader?”
Pete grinned. He’d ordered this burger a thousand times. “Don’t be a fucking pussy. Pick it up and eat it.” Pete held his burger in front of his mouth. He expertly squeezed the buns together and took a bite. Sauce dribbled out the corner of his mouth, but he was perfectly comfortable with that particular sensation.
Ace tried to follow Pete’s example. He took a bite, and the ass fell out of his burger. Tomato, cheese, and a slice of haloumi fell out of the bun, and his hands were saturated with mustard. Lettuce fluttered on the breeze. “Fuck, dude.”
Pete smiled with hilarity as he watched Ace wipe his hands, and then try to reconstruct his burger. It took a few minutes for Ace to assemble the delicate tower, but as he went to take a bite, the whole thing fell apart again.
“They’ve given me a faulty bun. Why does your bun work and mine doesn’t?”
“I always got good buns, Ace, you should know that about me by now.” Pete took another huge bite of his delicious burger. “Fucking delicious,” he said, chewing, mouth full. Speaking with his mouth full was, again, not an unusual experience for Pete.
Ace accepted defeat. He tackled his deconstructed burger by eating the ingredients off the wrapping paper one by one.
“You’ve made a little mess there, Ace,” Pete joked. “Haven’t you ever eaten a burger before?”
In frustration, Ace shot back. “Well, we can’t all be lucky enough to be born without a gag reflex, can we?”
Conversations on nearby tables stopped. Everyone knew exactly what that meant. Pete wasn’t sure what to say or do.
Ace turned to face his fellow diners. “What can I say?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s true. He wasn’t. I mean, it’s just a fact. On reflection, we should’ve ordered hot dogs.”
There was a dude sitting two tables away, eating dinner with his parents. He knew he was gay, but he hadn’t mustered up the courage to come out to them yet. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to. It felt way too difficult, and he couldn’t predict how his parents might respond. He was still a virgin, and his parents were completely oblivious to his sexuality. They wondered when he’d get his first girlfriend, not knowing he’d probably never have one. He desperately wanted to find a boyfriend, but he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t out. He wished he could own his sexuality as proudly as these two denim-clad long-haired dudes. He thought they were sexy. He knew he’d have a serious tug later tonight thinking about the red-haired guy who was, apparently, highly skilled in the fellatio department.
Ace and Pete talked as they continued to eat. Ace picked at his fries while Pete destroyed his burger. “Just heading to the bathroom,” Pete said. He wanted to wash his hands.
Ace followed him. He noticed Pete at a washbasin, lathering up his hands with liquid soap. He stood at the next washbasin and did the same. He looked in the mirror at Pete. He smiled as Pete looked back.
Without a single word, they dried their hands, and locked themselves in a cubicle.
Ace violently mashed Pete up against the door and jammed his tongue so far down his throat he nearly tasted his boyfriend’s meal. Pete’s fat, vicious tongue responded. Ace moaned. He pulled his face away and gazed deep into Pete’s eyes. A trail of spit connected their lips. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how much I love kissing you. Your mouth is like heaven.”
Pete grinned. “I’ve been told that before. And I’m not stopping you.”
Ace leaned back in, gripping Pete’s jaw, holding his mouth close. He wished he was still wearing his buttplug.
Pete’s hands fumbled at the buckle of Ace’s tight denim jeans. The battle was fierce, but he eventually prevailed. He undid Ace’s button, pulled down the zip, and reached inside. His hand feverishly pumped Ace’s shaft as they continued to kiss.
The guy who was eating dinner with his parents entered the bathroom to take a piss, but he couldn’t get a stream going because it was obvious that those two guys were making out in a cubicle. He heard bumps, thrusts and moans, and as he stood there, trying to take a piss, he popped a boner. He would’ve given anything to know what was going on inside the cubicle.
Pete dropped to his knees and sucked Ace’s cock into his throat. The feeling was so intense that Ace’s knees began to buckle. He gripped the top of the cubicle door to steady himself.
“Fuck, Pete, you gotta stop.”
“Nuh-uh. Blow it in my mouth.”
Ace came so fucking hard the cubicle door rattled with the force of his body. As his orgasm washed over him, he roared, not caring who heard him or what they thought.
Ace helped Pete to his feet. He knew what was coming next. Pete kissed Ace deeply, and they swapped his load back and forth for a few minutes.
Pete pulled his pants up and rebuckled his jeans. They stepped out of the cubicle.
The guy from the nearby table was slumped in a corner of the bathroom. His load dribbled down the shaft of his small, yet fiercely erect penis. He looked up as the two metalheads exited the cubicle. He mumbled an apology.
*
Pete led Ace across the street to Eternal. The night was early. Their bellies were full, but Ace’s balls were empty.
Pete ordered two beers. Carlos was behind the bar tonight. The room was quiet. They chatted for a few minutes as Carlos poured their ales. Pete gave him a $20 bill, and he received two $10 bills as change. Pete smiled in gratitude. He gave one of the beers to his boyfriend and they found a table.
“So you’re gonna play here tomorrow night?” Pete asked.
“I mean, yeah.” Ace took a sip of his ale. “That’s the plan. That’s why I’m here.”
“And also to hang out with me,” pouted Pete.
“Yeah, that too,” Ace replied.
Carlos stood behind the bar with not much to do. Pete waved him over. “Hey, dude, can you come sit with us for a while?”
There was very little demand for beer at this stage of the evening, though Carlos knew it was early. He expected it’d get busier later. He left the bar and headed across to his drummer’s table.
Carlos felt a little strange. He took stock of the situation. He’d lost his boyfriend, Gorilla, recently in a tragic accident. He was still coming to terms with the loss and was burying himself in work to try to move on. He tried to shut out the world — the only things that existed for him right now were his friends, music and Eternal.
Pete, the drummer in his band, was one of his closest friends, but it hadn’t always been this way. Carlos had always regarded Pete as an excellent drummer, but for most of their time together in Ass To Mouth, Pete lusted after him, and it was difficult for them to form a mature friendship. But now that Pete was head over heels in love with Ace, the sexual tension between them had disappeared.
Carlos remembered that he and Ace fucked at first sight the night before Gorilla died. He regretted it. It sullied his memory of Gorilla, but it wasn’t Ace’s fault. It was just sex, it didn’t mean anything, and he never expected Gorilla would die the very next day and that he’d never see him again.
He felt bad that he fucked Ace before Pete did. He wished it hadn’t happened. But the past can’t be unwound, and it can’t be stitched back together again, either.
So much stuff was packed into such a short space of time. Carlos still had a gaping hole in his life where Gorilla had once been, but his heart warmed as he saw how close Pete and Ace were becoming.
Carlos shook Ace’s hand. “Can’t fucking to watch Boipussy rock out tomorrow night!” he said.
Ace leaned in for a hug, planting a wet kiss on Carlos’s cheek. “Thanks, man! I’m really looking forward to it, and it’s awesome to see you again!”
Pete watched their embrace and smiled. These were the two hottest men he’d ever met, but he had the one he wanted. He took a slug of beer.
Carlos turned to Pete. “How’s things, helldrums?”
Pete beamed. “Yeah, not too bad.” He glanced sideways at Ace and knew he’d never been happier in his life. But the contrast to Carlos’s life was stark. “How are you coping, buddy?”
Carlos wiped away a silent tear. He still wasn’t over the loss of Gorilla. Maybe he never would be. “I don’t know. I guess I’m OK.” He was silent for a moment. “Been writing a lot of new stuff on my acoustic lately, but it’s probably a little too melancholy for Ass To Mouth.”
“Don’t fucking turn us into softcock rock,” Pete laughed. “The day you bring ‘Hotel California’ into the rehearsal room is the day I throw my kick drum at you.”
Carlos smiled. He was just working cathartic shit out of his system. “No fucking chance of that.” They bumped fists.
Carlos looked sideways as a thirsty customer approached an unmanned bar in search of beer. “Wait a second,” Carlos said as he stood to return to duty. He poured some beers, took some cash, and returned to Ace and Pete. “How are you finding our fair city, stranger?” he asked Ace.
“I have an excellent tour guide,” was Ace’s response. Pete blushed in embarrassment. They hadn’t really been anywhere except Pete’s bed.
Carlos knew, without a doubt, that Pete was deliriously happy right now. It was written all over his face. It felt bittersweet for him to see his friend experiencing such joy while he felt such sorrow within his own heart. He decided it was best for everyone if he went back behind the bar. “I’m gonna leave you two alone,” he said. “Have a great night.” He pointed to Ace. “Expecting a kick ass show from Boipussy tomorrow night. Fuckin’ tear these walls down.”
Ace raised his metal horns, and Carlos responded in kind before heading back to the bar. The crowd began to swell, and Carlos knew he’d be pouring beers solidly for the next few hours. From time to time, he looked across at Pete and Ace. He watched them in quiet conversation, and he felt jealous. Watching them interacting with each other reminded him of how he felt when he was with Gorilla.
Carlos was happy for Pete, but he wiped away a tear in memory of Gorilla. He snapped back into the present and served the next customer.
The lights dimmed and a goth band took the stage. The boys left their table to watch the band. The room filled with dry ice. A deep keyboard drone shook the room before the guitars kicked in. There was no drummer — the band preferred the cool, stale, precision of a drum machine. The singer wandered out from the curtain with his face painted white. He approached the mic stand in the centre of the stage.
Ace gestured towards the band. “Do you know who they are?” he asked.
“No idea,” answered Pete.
“Take a look at this cunt,” said Ace. “He looks like a ghost. I think he needs a little more sunshine.”
Pete giggled. The drum machine came to life. “Drummer’s good,” he laughed. “Way better than me.”
Ace stood behind his boyfriend, draping his arms over his shoulders. Pete craned his neck back and kissed Ace’s cheek. Neither of them knew who they were watching, but they were mentally cocooned in each other’s dark embrace.
“I love you,” said Pete.
Ace’s arms wrapped around Pete’s waist. They watched the goth band play their 45 minute set. From time to time, Ace leaned forward to brush Pete’s hair aside so he could plant delicate butterfly kisses on his neck.
Ace’s arms never let Pete’s waist go.
The darkwave band left the stage and the house lights came back on.
“You’re mine,” whispered Ace.
“If you say so,” Pete laughed, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek.
They kept drinking, and Carlos ensured their evening’s alcohol consumption remained dollar-neutral. Carlos knew both Ace and Pete would be back at Eternal tomorrow night; Boipussy were scheduled to play and he couldn’t wait to see them.
Carlos’s two special customers hugged him on the way out. He couldn’t help feeling jealous of them. He wanted what they had. Once upon a time he had it himself, but it was gone now. He knew they were going to fuck tonight, then sleep together, then wake up together, but Carlos was going to go home alone, sleep alone, and wake up alone.
Carlos shed another silent tear. He felt happy for his drummer, but sorry for himself.
*
Pete called an uber, and he and Ace piled into the backseat.
Ace’s phone pinged. He checked the message. “Shit. Fuck. No fucking way,” he said. His face looked panicky.
“What’s up?” asked Pete. He flicked his red hair back away from his face, and for a moment, his boyfriend drowned in the beauty of his freckles.
Ace composed himself. “I got a message from our bass player. Our drummer … he’s in the fucking hospital. His appendix burst and they’re cutting him up right now.”
Pete didn’t know Boipussy’s drummer very well at all, but he was his first thought. “Will he be OK?”
“Yeah, uhh … I guess so, like, eventually,” was Ace’s tentative reply. “I’m not a doctor, but isn’t it a matter of cutting it out and stitching him up? I’ll visit him when I get back to Florida, but I’m guessing he won’t be able to play drums for a while. Maybe even for a few months. And we can’t play tomorrow night without a drummer, so I guess we’re gonna have to cancel.”
“I know all your songs,” said Pete.
“What the fuck?”
Pete repeated himself. “I know how to play all your songs. Maybe not exactly the same way as your own drummer, but I know them well enough to tell you that you don’t have to cancel shit.”
Ace paused to take in what Pete had said. “Are you serious? You’d play for Boipussy?”
The uber driver’s ears pricked up, but he said nothing.
“I’d totally play for Boipussy,” Pete replied. The uber driver looked at his backseat cargo. He was definitely gonna give these sexy guys five stars. He didn’t know they were referring to Ace’s metal band, but even so, his dick was unexplainably hard. He wished he could pull over, park the car, crawl into the backseat and suck them both off, but he remained quietly professional, keeping his eyes glued to the road.
Pete continued. “Text your bass player, tell him you’ve found a solution to the appendix problem.” He grinned. “It’s either me, or it’s the goth band’s metronome. Choose wisely.”
Ace’s fingers danced across the touchscreen of his phone, and by the time the uber pulled up at Pete’s building, he had the response he wanted. They got out, closed the doors, and the car sped away.
“OK,” Ace announced. “They’re still coming. We’re playing. They’re gonna leave early, they should be here by around 2 o’clock tomorrow.”
Pete was gonna make his debut for Boipussy.
He was gonna spend an hour playing drums while watching his boyfriend’s ass dance across the stage, with a fat buttplug wedged deep inside.
“We’d better get some sleep,” declared Pete.
Ace pouted in disappointment, but sometimes, music comes first.
They showered separately. They dried off and crawled into bed.
Ace couldn’t keep his hands off his sexy boyfriend. He began groping Pete’s ass. Pete slapped him away. “If you want me to play drums tomorrow night, I need a good night’s sleep,” he said.
Ace was torn. He wanted Pete to feel prepared for tomorrow, but he couldn’t deny how horny he felt. He threw the comforter off, spat into his palm and jerked himself off. His load was weak. It felt good, but his balls needed time to replenish.
Pete was already snoring.