Friday 23 May 2014

Blog Story #2 – Gotta Start Somewhere

This posting is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.
It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

This story has had some editing done to it, and it’s US English, though when I ebook publish it will go back to British.
For the first post, click here!

Gotta Start Somewhere
Sean has always been a big boy, hairy, manly, but that’s what’s on the outside.
For the men who just want Sean for his body, it was not what was on the inside that mattered: it was the outside package that counted most.
Set up by his mates, Sean entered the horrors of a nightclub but he soon realises it could be the best lost bet of his life.
James and his long turn partner have finally broken up, and suddenly all James can think about is going for the man he’s wanted since their first meeting.
But does James want him for Sean or to make himself better after a breakup?

“Yeah, fucking stud,” he mocked though he knew it wasn’t really a lie as he sure could pull off the look, much better than a lot of other men. Leaning forward Sean made sure James heard his words. “Feel like I’m in the wrong fucking club.”
     James’ laugh lined his face real nice, but then it always had. “True that, the look is definitely lost on the body mass here.”
     The bar man came up, taking James' order over the noise and before Sean knew he was gulping down a beer.
     “Here,” James said as Sean put his empty plastic cup down on the counter.
     “Huh, isn’t that…”
     “Seriously dude, you think I don’t know ya?”
     “Yeah, yeah, whatev.” Sean picked up the cup and followed James out into the heated mass of people, letting him slide his sweaty self up against other sweaty selves, only, unlike them, he left a thick mark behind. Man, he was often surprised there was never a man with a mop following behind him, cleaning up the mess of sweat trailing after him like an OHS hazard.
     His mates were all standing, sitting, around in a dark corner of the club, the heavy beat rocked into him in all directions and when he turned to have a look at the view, he noticed there wasn’t much he’d miss if he just sat the fuck down.
     A slap on his back had him turning back around. “Hey, mate, you came.”
     “Yeah, ‘cause unlike you I don’t run hiding like a bitch when I lose a bet, even if it’s clearly a set up.”
     All the guys around them laughed loudly at that. “How else were we meant to get ya here?” Rolf said, putting his hand out for a shake, which Sean delivered.
     Sean shook the hands of the guys around him, taking the ribbin’ they all wanted to give in the fun light hearted, jest-full way that he wasn’t going to take to heart, all the while scoping the area looking for James' boyfriend Tim.
     He had to be careful with Tim, the little man always seemed scared shitless of him, though Sean was never sure why, it wasn’t like he did anything to him, but ever since they’d meet Tim had kept his distance and if possible he’d leave a room as soon as Sean entered it.
     Sean had tried, in the start, to get the man to relax around him, but that hadn’t helped; he’d end up sinking into a mood and stay there until James up and left. He didn’t understand, but there was no way he’d purposely make one of his mates leave the party, so he stayed away.
      Meeting all the men, getting their slaps on his shoulder followed by a wipe of hand on his back, though they all seemed to think he didn’t notice. Sean smiled, serves the bastards right for putting him in a room with no air and a shit-ton of body heat.
     Finally managing to slide into one of the booth ends, Sean spread his legs and took a deep breath, and if he could help it, he wouldn’t be leaving this spot all night.
     “Fuck man. Do you need any more room?” Ben said next to him as he shifted away.
     “’Course, how else am I meant to air out the boys.” that, and with the sweat dampening between his thighs from his sweating, Sean was already starting to feel the chaff, and he really didn’t want to have to work all day Monday with fucking heat rash between this thighs, that shit sucked, well, balls. Not that he had a problem with sucking balls, but those were generally the clean, fresh type, not his hairy assed ones.
     Sean had had many lovers complain about the amount of hair he had below his belt line, and this was after he spent the evening trimming the fuckers down. He couldn’t help it that it wasn’t practical for him to shave himself bare, not to mention that fact that he didn’t look particularly good once he did, all clean and smooth surrounded by a thick dark bush.
     The first time he’d shaved it his brother had walked in on him, took one look at his junk and pissed himself laughing, and Sean was talking ‘bout the collapsing on the floor clutching his sides laughing. When he’d finally been able to take a breath, though he still spat out a bout of giggles, he told Sean that shaving was a pain and then showed him that trimming was his best option. Sean hadn’t been so sure until the next morning when the hair had started to grow back and itched like fuck for the rest of the fucking day.
     “So where’s Tim?” Colin’s voice came from the bench behind Sean.
     “Who cares he and James broke up like a month ago or some shit.” Replied a guy that sounded like Smithy, but Sean wasn’t turning around the check.
     “Really, thank fuck, that guy annoyed the shit outta me…” Colin’s words trembled on, both of them did actually but the baseline smashed on again and the words were drowned out.
     Sean shifted in his seat. He stretched his arm out across the back of the bench, his other scratched at his pec, his legs stretched out a little more, getting comfortable. 
     He felt as if something had settled onto him, like the music had suddenly grabbed hold of him and started its seductive dance, right there on his lap, and he was letting the music pull him under.
     Suddenly Sean didn’t feel like he was suffocating under the immense heat. The sweat pooling on the seat under him didn’t bother him, nor the fact that his exaggeration would actually be spot on by the end of the hour.
     Drinks kept turning up under Sean’s hands. As one finished, he always seemed to have another. A fuzzy buzz took over his mind, something he hadn’t felt since his first wank circle that turned a little less about manual work and more a group bonding exercise.
     Sean wasn’t sure how long he sat there, watching, laughing, chatting, with the men around him, until his bladder pushed him up out of the chair. It always surprised him that he needed to piss in places like these, since he was sure he sweated more than he chugged down, but piss he must.

...continues here

No comments:

Post a Comment