Willie and I smoked and drank some booze, topping off our unusual date. I'm sleeping tonight and tomorrow with him in his suite at his upscale motel. It seems I need to be submissive to Willie if I want to be his boyfriend. That isn't as ominous as it sounds, and he's play-acting more than anything. Still, he's our leader, and in that capacity doesn't want us to do anything I don't want to do, so it's. a shrug from me.
He did a pay-me-back, humiliating stunt after dinner, but we're back in a loving frame of mind, although tired and slightly drunk. We both had a good piss, washed up, and brushed out teeth. Now we're wrapped in one another's arms and under the covers to get some sleep. No sex, but we'd had plenty of that earlier. Willie, with a slur in his voice, murmurs, "I overdid my retaliation, Dylan. You're not too upset with me for that, are you, Dylan? I didn't like doing it, but I'm responsible for putting my foot down so we could have a long relationship. Please say you understand."
I kissed him and said, "I don't pretend to get it fully, Willie, but I like ninety percent of being your boyfriend. I think the key word is compromise."
Hey, ninety percent is a grade of 'A'. It's not an A-plus, but we'll see how it goes. Willie's breathing quickly became deep and steady. What a goofy, up-and-down day, but I've heard getting through tough times together helps build a strong relationship.
The next thing I'm aware of is Willie groaning as we rolled out of bed at eight o'clock in the morning. I whine, "Willie, why must we get up so early? I think I've got a hangover. My first one." Willie mumbles, "We've got to get our haircuts and return for our water-skiing lesson. I've got a hot speedboat rented all afternoon, and an instructor comes with the package for the first hour. It'll be so cool." I said, "Dude!" because that does sound cool.
We brushed our teeth with vigor and then jumped into the oversized shower stall to shampoo and wash each other quickly. While drying my hair, Willie says, "The head of my dick is still too sore this morning. I worked this organ too hard on you yesterday, but you are so yummy that I couldn't stop fucking you.
I mutter, "It's okay. You fucked be as good as Carl, and that's saying something. The thing is, I I like you much more than I like Carl, sex with you is my favorite ever!"
He says, "Thanks. Since my dick's sore, how about giving my asshole a sweet rimming?" No problem. I like rimming his ass. It's a very submissive thing to do. I can't think of a more submissive one, and Willie said he over did it, so I'll do this for him. "I'm glad to rim my leader's asshole, Willie."
He has a serious expression, nodding and saying, "You're doing great this morning, sweetheart. Maybe I should put my foot down with you more often. Anyway, we're already naked, so let's hop up on the bed again."
On top of the sheets, Willie gets comfortable on his knees with his forehead resting on his forearms and his forearms flat on the mattress. This leaves his oh-so-hot ass sticking up in the air. I got on my knees behind him and, sitting back on my ankles, I massaged his buttocks with both hands, and right away, I started getting hard. Willie has a great ass. I leaned forward and kissed his ass all over and then licked his round, firm, totally hairless buttocks.
Spreading apart his cheeks, I gave a big wet kiss right on his tightly closed anus, followed by a long lick, and then, beginning at the back of his balls, I lapped all the way up his crack and then licked all around both sides of his ass crack. Jesus! my dick was like a steel rod by now, and when I reached under his nut sac to feel Willie's cock it was just as hard as mine, so I stroked it awkwardly a few times, and Willie murmured, "I love the way you rim my ass, Dylan. Love it!!"
This time I sucked on the back of his nuts first and then started my long lap up his crack, over his hole, and then back down, stopping at his asshole this time to concentrate on licking right on top of it, over and over. Willie moaned and tightened up his body; he did a full-body shudder, and I watched those little goosebumps break out all over his arms. My tongue had worked its way into a small opening at his asshole, and then I pushed my tongue in a little more and then some more, and I tasted a slight bitter shit-taste for a few seconds, but it faded.
That hint of my boyfriend's shit got my dick dripping precum. It was so sexy performing this submissive sex act; I loved doing it. The taste of his shit, while offensive, added to my overall sexual thrill. This is an example of a little submissiveness being a turn-on for me. As I said, the hint of shit faded almost as fast as it appeared, so I could really get into fucking his hole with my tongue. His sphincter got looser, so I went up on my knees and pushed the head of my dripping, throbbing boner past Willie's sphincter ring and up inside him. I went in about two inches, and he let out a squeak but pushed back, so I thrust forward together. We got my cock totally up his ass in no time flat. Willie goes, "Oh, this feels so good! I forgot how hot this is. Fuck my ass, Dylan."
I thought it felt awful good myself, and Willie's right; I'd also forgotten how good it felt from this end. There were black dots dancing in my vision. This was fantastic. I've never fucked anyone else, so yeah, this is a hot thrill! No other experience, but how much experience do you need? I drove my boner in and out of Willie's hole while holding onto his hips with both hands. Nothing clever or fancy about this fuck, just pleasure for me and apparently for Willie, too.
My nuts were working overtime and began to hurt a little as they slowly moved up to the top of my scrotum and pressed against my groin. More precum, and I knew this was it. I grunted out, "I'm going to cum, Willie." Three seconds later, a long string of cum blasted out of my cock into Willie's bowels. Immediately Willie's sphincter ring tightened around my boner as he fired a load of his cum on the sheets, and then we fired our second shots together. Willie made lots of familiar steam sounds from the air squeezed out between his front teeth. I had cum droolings with each thrust for a minute or so after the climax.
Wow, did that ever feel good! Finally falling onto Willie's back and hugging his slim body, I kissed the back of his neck, the half-inch long hairs tickling my nose. He was smelling so nice with his Willie scent. Sex with Willie is awesome. He let his knees slide backward till we were flat on the sheet, me on his back with my dick up his ass. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Willie said, "That rocked, Dylan! WOW! Nice fuck, sweetheart!"
Then, thirty seconds later, he checked his watch and said, "I hate to be a killjoy, but we gotta get moving now." I wheezed out, "You're the best, Willie. I loved that so much." Willie started rolling over as he said, "It was fantastic, but only occasionally. We need to get moving." As we ate a quick breakfast at a diner, and I worked up the courage to whine, "Can't we pass up the haircuts, Willie, please? I don't want a flattop. If this were nineteen-fifty-five, maybe I'd be okay with it."
He plops a twenty-dollar bill beside his plate, stands, and says, "Let's go. No more whining, okay?" Goddammit, my dick squirmed in my pants at that rude dominant comment from Willie. Standing and groping my junk, I mutter, "You don't need to be rude," and then, "What's an authentic flattop, anyway?" He shrugs, "I don't know. We'll find out."
The haircuts didn't work out well at all. Getting in the car afterward, Willie rubbed his head and mumbled, "This haircut really sucks." I mutter, "Duh, really?" The barbershop was right outside the Army base and the majority of their customers are military personal getting too-short haircuts because they have to.
We didn't talk for five minutes, then Willie said, "My fuck up, Dylan. I apologize." I shrug, and mutter, "Again you apologize! Ah, fuck it; hair grows steadily, but slowly."
We just made our scheduled time for the water-skiing lesson. The instructor, Andrew, was a well-built guy with a few tattoos, and a killer smile. He's about probably twenty-five-years old, asking. "You in the service, boys?" Willie's grumpy now, muttering, "No, where do I rent the skis and whatever we need for this?"
We got all the stuff we needed, plus, roast-beef sub sandwiches and a couple bottle of Snapple. Off we went to learn to water ski. It was a blast and after a while, except for noticing Willie's too-short flattop, I hardly thought about mine. Andrew, the ski instructor, must have detected somehow that Willie and I are more than buddies because he asked at one point, "Ah, are you guys, ah, that is, are you boyfriends?"
Willie said, "Yeah, we are, why?" The guy told us that he's straight, but, "I couldn't help but noticed the killer hickey on Darren's neck, and, I don't know, you just seem like boyfriends."
Willie mumbles, "It's Dylan, not Darren," and, later the guy says he knows about a party tonight where a lot of the guys there will be gay. It's twenty dollars a person for all the beer you can drink, lot of hot music, and military guys were always welcome. Willie said we'd think about it. Andrew said, "Sure thing man, it's up to you".
Willie had thought of everything and in his backpack was sunscreen, towels, change of tee shirts, and even a couple of baseball caps which came in real handy. The sun blaring down on our newly uncovered scalps would burn the top of our heads if we didn't wear the hats.
It was a lot of fun, the afternoon flew by. Willie knew how to water ski. Andrew was for me, and he did a hell of a job teaching me how to do it. It was easy, and I was skiing like a champ in twenty minutes. In between water skiing, we talked about what we wanted to do tonight. Andrew told us the party was a weekly event at a gay club. We don't need to be twenty-one to drink in the private club.
We got referral cards from Andrew that had a code number, the club's address, and driving directions on the back. Willie thinks, for a straight dude, Andrew knew an awful lot about gay activities in the area. He said, "The card says it's a fifty-dollar membership fee, so I'm thinking Andrew gets a commission. Do you want to go?" I nodded, "Yeah, I'd like to see what's up with that. I've never been in a gay club. Kind of scary, but let's do it."
Willie puts the backpack in the trunk of the rental car, and says, "It'll be my first time in a gay club, too. We'll check it out after dinner."
With sunburned noses, we arrived back at the motel at four-thirty, got our stuff out of the car, walked across the parking lot to the lobby, and headed upstairs to the second floor. In our room, we dropped everything and headed for the shower. When we were squeaky clean, we got under the clean, crisp sheets of the king-size bed to escape the coolness of the air-conditioner, and, without discussing it before hand, fell into a short, but intense make-out, Willie being very affectionate and me feeling totally appreciated.
I think Willie's the best leader/boyfriend any gay boy could wish for. His penis had recovered and he said felt good, so, using lube this time, Willie fucked me for almost twenty minutes before we exploded cum shots, his up my ass and mine went onto the previously mentioned crisp, clean sheets.
It was an excellent fuck and we stayed in bed wrapped-up in each other's limbs and fell asleep. It was a late-night last night, and we got up early, then all afternoon in the hot sun did us in. Add to that twenty minute of robust sex, plus, it's a fact that teenagers can take a nap anytime.
Eventually we were up, dressed, and out to dinner. We ate at a little spot that was owned by someone Willie's father knew and because of that we walked up past a long line of peons, right up to the maître d' where Willie was greeted like a celebrity, and we were then ushered right to a table for two at the edge of the bay. I could get use to this special treatment. The muttering of the peons didn't even bother me as we butted in front of about fifty of them. They'll get their tables eventually.
Dinner wasn't as tasty as the entrance had been, but it wasn't bad. I had a fried shrimp platter and Willie ordered bouillabaisse which I'd never heard of, and when it came in a large, shallow, bowl that looked like the left-over items from five or six fish dinners piled into a broth that smelled like clam juice.
Willie raved about it and insisted I try it sometime. I told him, "No thanks. Perhaps when I'm a homeless person." Later, we found the gay club, but it wasn't easy even with no name at the entrance, no nothing except the building's address on the card. The door opened into a lobby that had a short line leading to the real entrance of Club Boytoytime. Willie muttered, "Catchy". The line moved right along.
Willie handed a bouncer guy the card Andrew had given us and we were ushered to the side where a black dude asked, irritably, "Where the fuck you two been? We expected you here an hour ago."
Even Willie was speechless. He finally said, "What? You have the wrong guys." The black guy muttered, "Oh, great! Comedians. Follow me!" We went up two flights of stairs exchanging glances like, "What the fuck?" The lower flight of stair led to a big, loud room with many guys of all ages dancing, many without shirts, and some in their underwear. Very loud dance beat music, glasses clanking against one another, loud talking and laughing.
They had one of those globes with hundreds of tiny mirrors to make the spot light look like streaming tiny spotlights. It was pretty cool, and exciting, but we continued up another flight of stairs. It led to a much quieter, smaller bar area with maybe fifty men talking and drinking, but no music. It was like a regular bar. Occasionally, a subdued loud speaker would announce a number in a low voice, "Number twenty-one, please". Willie and I are looking around, totally in the dark as to what's happening. The black guy says, "My name's Kendrick. Use it when you tell the bartender what you want to drink, the drinks are comp-ed. I'll go see how the other boys are doing."
Willie and I look at each other for the tenth time since coming in this gay club, totally in the dark. Willie says, "Comp means free, as in complimentary." I'm like, "Oh," and I shrug because I've never paid for a single thing with Willie, so everything is comped as far as I'm concerned.
He ordered two imported beers that tasted so bitter I couldn't drink mine. "What the fuck is going on here, Willie?" He said, "Hell if I know, but it's interesting they didn't charge us the bogus fifty-dollar membership fee. Let's see what's shaking and we'll decide if we should stay or bounce outa here."
Willie got himself another beer and I got a grapefruit juice and vodka. We both smoked a cigarette. It was about a half hour before Kendrick came over to our table and said, "Here, take a couple of these," and handed us a few pills. I said, "Man, if that is for a headache? I'm good. I don't need any pills." Kendrick laughed and then was very stern, "Take the fucking pills." For what seemed the thousandth time tonight Willie and I exchanged glances and then Willie said, "We're not trying to be funny, we don't do drugs."
He was respectful when he said that, not being a smartass, and Kendrick mutters, "Oh Jesus, what a night. Okay, ball busters, I'll be back for you in a couple of minutes."
When he left, I asked, "How are we going to get the fuck out of here?" Willie looks around and says, "That door we came in is the only one I see, how about if we casually walk over, and..." Just then Kendrick is back saying, "See the bartender over there...?" Willie and I look over, and with my peripheral vision and I see Kendrick putting powder from a smell manilla envelope into our drinks, and casually put the envelope in his side pocket.
We look at him and Willie asks, "What about the bartender?" Kendrick says, "He used to be a place kicker for the New York Jets. Anyway, finish your drinks and then you'll take your turns in the slings."
The second he's out of earshot, I say to Willie, "Don't touch that fucking drink! That guy poured some powder in our drinks, I saw him out of the corner of my eye." Willie's like, "You're shitting me, right?" I shake my head, looking around, "Where can we dump these drinks?" Then I casually poured my drink on the carpet under our table. It was absorbed in the thick carpet's pile.
Willie nods and does the same thing. We put the glasses back on the table, each had a little left in the bottom. I'm scared because this is serious stuff, trying to drug us. Willie is unconsciously rubbing the sandpaper feel of the back of his head and biting his lip for a few seconds, then says, "Let's just go right back down the stairs," and we start to get up, but Kendrick is right there like he'd materialized out of thin air.
"Come on boys, no more screwing around. You're up." He has us walking with him as he pleasantly asks, "So, what branch of the service are you in?" Willie goes, "Marines," and we follow Kendrick down a hall with signs pointing this way and that, labeled, "SLING ROOMS" "GLORY HOLE" "PRIVATE ROOMS."
I hear Willie mutter, "Fuck," under his breath. Kendrick opens a door to a room with two hammocks or something hanging from the ceiling and two gray haired men appeared to be humping the hammocks. "Oops, sorry gentlemen, wrong room."
The next door led to a similar room with two hammocks but no one was humping them. Kendrick says, "Guys! Listen up!" I thought he was talking to Willie and me until a head pops up over the side of each hammock. The hammocks were too short to be real hammocks, but I didn't know what else to call them. There were made of leather; I could tell by the smell.
The heads belonged to teenaged boys about our age. One was a redhead with real bushy hair who had a face almost as red as his hair. He said, "Where the fuck you been?" Kendrick said, "Watch your mouth, Arnold! These two are newbies, okay? Let em' have a quickie and then they'll relieve you. I gotta take care of something else, so, you two," pointing at the hammock boys, "Are responsible. Got it?" They nod their heads, as Willie and I exchange another quizzical look.
Kendrick opened the door and is gone, never to be seen by us again. On the wall was a condom dispenser and complimentary lubricant. The four of us stare at each other until redhead says to me, "How 'bout you do me quickly so I can get on my way. The tips have been good tonight so you're lucky with that." He swung the hammock a bit and underneath was a hole in the hammock. It didn't take a genius to figure out that that hole was matched up with the redhead's asshole.
My dick twitched and I groped my crotch. Willie said, "Just curious, but where do we go when we're done? Down the main stairs or what?" The other boy was a very cute blond, but he had that dumb look in his eyes you see in kids sometimes. He said, "Fuck no! Ya want to piss off Kenny, you stupid dick. Go down the hall to the left where it says EXIT... duh!"
Willie gives blondie the finger, and says to me, "Let's go," and we're out the door in a flash with the hammock boys yelling, "Hey! Hey!" That's all we heard as we ran down the hall, took a left and flung open the door that led outside to metal steps going two floors down. The steps looked high and dangerous, but we didn't hesitate. Lots of noise made by the hard leather soles of our sandals slapping against the metal steps, Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack...." and an echo after each "Clack."
I thought, there was no way we were going to escape this easily. At the bottom of the metal steps, the fire escape, we ran away from the building, which means we were also running away from the rental car, but we weren't thinking straight at the moment. Just, get the fuck away from there. Four blocks, running hard, I was already half a block in front of Willie. Finally, something I can do better than him... run my ass off.
He called out, "Wait up, Dylan!" I slowed up till Willie was next to me and we jogged two more blocks and then collapsed onto a bench at a bus stop. Breathing hard, Willie says, "What do you think, babe?" I say, "We better start circling back, so we can sneak up on the car. They don't know our car so there isn't any reason someone would be watching it." Willie muttered, "Makes sense..."
That's what we did. It took a half-hour to do a big circle and then, there was the parking lot. Willie muttered, "If they're watching the lot, they'll be looking for two boys so I'll go in alone. If they grab me, find a phone and call 911."
Our cell phones were in the car. That was our plan, but we didn't need one. No one approached Willie as he walked up and got in his car. I wondered if his heart was thumping as hard as mine. He's got guts, Willie does. I was proud to be with him.
He came roaring up to me, leaned over and unlatched the door for me to jump in and did he ever lay some rubber with the back end of that rental swerving from side to side. I could smell the burnt rubber for two blocks. Willie ran a light and we were a quarter mile from the Garden State Parkway just like that. Willie let out a long stream of curse words and I knew it was him letting out the tension.
I felt a little sick to my stomach, but I knew that was just too much adrenaline pouring into my system. I get the same reaction when I'm in a fight, well, right after the fight. It will pass in a couple of minutes.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck that fucking water skiing instructor, Andrew!" Willie was screaming into the night with the wind blowing over our extremely authentic flattop haircuts. We both calmed down after a bit, but we didn't have much to say during the drive on the Garden State Parkway back to Sea Isle City.
In our motel room, Willie and me hugged and then got the nervous giggles. We'd dodged a bullet, but neither one of us wanted an adult beverage from the mini bar, so we sat out on the balcony drinking orange soda, smoking another cigarette, and building up the story of our adventure for future retellings.
Willie didn't even argue about the cigarette smoke. Instead saying, "Yeah, I could use one of those, I think." We worked over our gay club adventure and it's going to be a BIG, story to tell, I can just see that. It was big enough to start with, but wait till be exaggerate it over time.
Almost as an after-thought we remembered the envelopes and we fished them out of our pockets to find a hundred-dollar bill in each, the second and third hundred dollar bills I'd seen tonight. Willie scuffed at the hundred dollars, "Big fucking spender! That prick, Kendrick. Huh, Dylan?"
I was thrilled to get that hundred-dollar bill, but I realized it didn't mean much to Willie, so I said, "Guess the guys make most of their money from tips. The kid said the tips were good tonight. Maybe we should have stayed awhile."
Willie chuckled and muttered, "Oh, there isn't much chance you'll be getting any tips tonight, even though I'm pretty sure you'll be getting fucked tonight."
As it turned out he was right. I got fucked that night and I was lucky enough to get fucked hard the next morning, too. Willie's penis head had healed. He had to catch a two o'clock flight out of Atlantic City on Sunday so after he fucked me doggy style on top of the bed, we had a big breakfast, and then he drove me back to Wildwood. No one was in our condo; the Moms were on the beach according to a note from Tris. Chubby wouldn't be back till seven o'clock tonight.
I went out on the deck to lounge around and think about things. In the early afternoon like this it's actually too hot on the deck. I stayed anyway, and spent some time wishing I could see Willie for our regular Saturday night date, but that's not happening. I can't wait for our next date, which will be Tuesday night, ten days from now.
Huh, I missed him already, and I miss Carl. I liked talking to my mentor about gay matters, and I liked how awesomely my mentor fucked me, and I even like making out with him. Could I love both Carl and Willie? Carl broke me into making out, oral sex, and anal sex, plus rimming, and what else? I forget, but I was broken in, sexually, thanks to Carl, so Willie could move in and take me further into the pleasurable world of gay sex. I'm so very lucky!
Then I thought how Willie has been out as gay to everyone since middle school and how he appears so much more relaxed about being gay than I am. He's not ashamed about being gay, nor is he particularly proud about it; it just is. Sooner or later, I'm going to need to come clean to Mom, Tris and, of course, Chubby. It scares me, though. Willie never says anything about me coming out. Well, one thing is for sure, and that is, I'm not coming out on vacation, so, along with everything else, I'll worry about it later.
Then I wondered about that gay club and how water ski instructor, Andrew, had set us up. He must have lied to Kendricks, saying we agreed to be in a hammock. Willie told me what a glory hole is, too. Wow, there sure seems to be some diverse ways to have gay sex. For all I know, there are just as many diverse ways to have hetero sex, but that doesn't interest me.
All of this is too much to think about. It's overwhelming, which is why I miss Carl. He'd take me through it all.
It was early afternoon, so I wandered down to the beach to hook up with the moms, but they weren't there and the twins were off playing golf, so I took a long walk up the beach. When I got back to our place the Moms were out on the deck with their gin and tonics, talking.
They didn't see me; as they were going over their weekend with us boys away. The Moms had been with the same two guys all weekend. They hadn't gotten into any juicy sex talk, so I took a deep breath and got ready for a shriek when they saw my absurd haircut...
To be continued...
