Best Gay Erotica 2014 (6 page)

Still a one in three chance of staying here with Jake. A one in three chance of just staying home, of a full day with all of the things that Jake likes to do but I don't.

I'm honestly not sure who I'm rooting for.

“Won't he just be able to count whose turn it is?” Brad says. “Doesn't matter what order we go in, he just has to follow the hits, keep track of the count, and he'll at least have good odds of knowing who gets to hit.”

That's true. But I bet Jake thought of that.

“There's enough tools here for us each to have one,” Jake says. “You just hit whenever you feel like it. Hit twice in a row if you want. Hit and then move. Don't hit for five minutes. Remember, the goal is not only to be the one to knock the piñata down,
but also to have him guess that it was someone else.”

They chuckle, and I adjust myself, steeling for the first round. The bell rings, and the first hits come in almost immediately.

Using swimming-pool noodles for beating is brilliant. They don't hurt really. There's a dull thud. But they make a lot of noise. The noise those things make is enough to make others wince. You can swing them as hard as you want, but it never makes more pain than a dull thud.

Jake knew what he was doing picking those. There's a slight sting, but for the most part all it'll do is tire them all out. As bad as the noise makes it sound, they could pound on me all day with those things, and the biggest danger I'd be in would be fear of boredom.

The one thing the noodles do manage to do is make my skin more sensitive. Which means, when the bell rings a second time, and the first hit from the flogger comes, I can feel it a bit more directly than I might have otherwise.

This time around, the hits are a bit more scattered. I think I recognize Jake's hand, the way he jerks back just a little bit at the end, the twitch that adds some sting to the thud of a flogger. Then come two quick hits, solid pounds of weight that crash into my sides.

I grunt, for the first time, and I hear snickers of satisfaction. I tighten my jaw and try to steady my breathing. Another hit comes from the other direction, almost making me gasp at the surprise instead of the pain.

“Almost had him!” Larry says.

“And if you had, he would have known it was you,” Jake says.

Two hits later, Jake steps in front of me and runs his hand gently down my cheek. “It's okay,” he says. “I just need to check. Can you open your mouth?”

I nod.

He laughs. “Not a trick, love,” he says. “This doesn't count as being broken. I just want you to open your mouth for a second, so I can see that you can. Then we'll put the bag back in and the game will be on again.”

I open my mouth, give it a stretch and then close it again on the plastic bag.

And just as I do, the bell rings. I smirk. If I didn't have something in my mouth, I'd yell at Jake for claiming that there were no tricks.

Round three starts with a solid hit to my ribs. It feels like one of the pool noodles, but with a pipe, a plastic pipe, on the inside. Same loud noise, but with a whole lot more pressure behind it, a more intense impact. The first hit makes me ache, makes me swing back and forth a little. I squeeze my hands, clench my jaw and try to pull in breaths that just won't come.

At the apex of the swing comes another hit, sending me the other direction. I clench my eyes under my blindfold, bite down and cough at the hit.

Then there's an upswing, a single hit between my legs. One solid blast, and the candy crashes to the floor. I cough, gasp for breath. I nearly vomit from the pain.

On the one hand, I'm happy it ended when it did. I don't want to know what the Wiffle ball bats would have felt like. I certainly don't want to know what the bare piping or the bamboo would have done to me.

I am a bit surprised it took that long to hit between my legs, actually. I'm not complaining, but I expected them to think of it sooner.

Jake pulls the blindfold off my eyes and rubs my jaw, kisses away the tears. After a few seconds, when I can breathe again, he kisses me gently. Then he helps turn me toward the others.

“Okay,” he says. “Time to guess. Who took the last hit?”

I take a deep breath and look at the guys. Jake stands with his arms crossed, barely breathing hard, smiling and sweating a little. He locks eyes with me, the view of a sinner and a saint, but mostly a sinner.

Brad smiles, nervous. He won't make eye contact with me.

Larry also won't look at me, but he looks bored. Like it all comes down to a foregone conclusion. Like he not only knows who hit me, he knows who I will choose. Like he's not surprised.

Why wouldn't he be surprised? Why won't Brad make eye contact?

Maybe Brad won't make eye contact because he feels bad about it. Maybe he's guilty for hitting me there. And that guilt is written so clearly on his face that Larry doesn't feel like there's any chance I'll pick him. And Larry knows that since
he
didn't deliver the final hit, he doesn't get me anyway.

Unless it's a bluff. Maybe he wants me to think that he doesn't care, wants me to guess someone else, so that he'll get the full twenty-four hours.

But then, why would Brad be so guilty looking? Why would he avoid my gaze?

I look over at Jake, but he is no help. He smiles, knowing that it truly
doesn't
matter what I choose. At best, he gets twenty-four hours of pushing my soft limits. At worst, he gets to have that experience of trading me away, and I come back in one day. We talk about it, we decide if we want to do it again and we have fantastic sex.

If it was Jake, and I guess him, then I don't have to worry about what he'll do as much, because it won't be as long.

But then, if it was him, he'll find some other way to get past the soft limits. He'll have plenty of chances for that. Tonight
wasn't about that. It wasn't about Jake getting to do extra things. It was about us experimenting with this fantasy.

Which means it has to be one of the others.

Fifty-fifty. Guess right, and I go home with one of them for the night. Guess wrong, and it's twenty-four hours.

I smile at Jake. “Are you sure?” I ask him. “It's not too late to back out. Not too late to change our minds.”

Jake smiles. “It's okay,” he says. “Just guess.”

I look over at Brad and Larry. Brad is guilty. Larry is confident.

I sigh. “I think it's going to end up with twenty-four hours,” I say. “With Larry.”

BIG THICK DICK AND DOUBLE-CHOCOLATE BUBBLE BOOTY

Shane Allison

I notice this beefy-looking tall brotha walk in. I've seen him before. I fucked him once in a bookstore bathroom. He's quiet and has dick for days. I think he works at some motel; I don't know. I follow him into the back of the dirty bookstore. Damn, look at the ass on him! A double-chocolate bubble booty I could eat off of for days and still have leftovers. I bet he looks delicious naked. He sees me but pretends I'm not there. He walks into one of the booths in the far corner of the back. I twist the doorknob in hopes that it's open. It's not. I hear money being worked into the machine. I hear the
ohs
and
ahs
of a woman being fucked. I hear the slurps of a dick being sucked. I tap gently on the door. I know he can hear me. He knows it's me. I wish he would let me in. I really want to suck his dick. I want to smash my face between the double-chocolate bubble cheeks of his booty. I hate when guys play hard to get. The
ohs
and
ahs
are enough to make my dick hard. I bet he's got his dick out. Damn, I wish he would let me in. I want to see his dick. I want
to drop to my knees and put his dick in my mouth. I would suck him so good. I would give him the best blow job ever. I want him to sit his double-chocolate ass on my face. I want his dick to kiss the back of my throat.

I'm so fucking horny right now. I hate hard-to-get guys. I circle the back like a dick-hungry shark. The gay porn DVDs locked behind the plate glass make my dick crazy-hard. Damn, look at the dicks on these guys! They've got some big nice asses, too. I love rimming a nice juicy ass. This place is cleaner than where I usually go. They have better gay porn movies, and it doesn't smell like piss. This place isn't run by gay-hating girls armed with flashlights, yelling at you to get in a booth. Bitches! They only have guys working here. Some of them are really cute. There's one guy who works here I would love to fuck. He's tall, a little on the heavy side. I bet he looks good naked and has a bodacious ass. This place is convenient for me because it's on my way home. Yeah, this place kicks the ass of the place I usually go. I'm sick of seeing the same guys whose dicks I have sucked over and over.

Someone new just walked in. He's cute, slightly older than Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty. He looks to be in his early forties, Native American–looking, though I'm not sure. He's wearing a white T-shirt, painter pants with paint stains on them and dusty tan boots. He looks familiar. I watch him take one of the booths in the corner. He looks at me like he wants me. I'm grabbing at my dick. He watches me grab at my dick. I walk over where his door is cracked open. He unzips his painter pants and takes out his dick. He hikes his T-shirt up over his belly. I see dark waves of hair on his stomach. He puts in some money. Someone is getting fucked. Someone is getting his dick sucked, from what I can hear. I'm so fucking hard right now. I need to suck some dick. I wedge the door open enough to slide
in between him and the small bench in his booth. Our bellies rub together. This is meant to be. Straight porn plays out on the TV. I waste no time. I sit down on the bench and put his dick in my mouth. It's soft, yeah, but it doesn't take long to get hard. Jesus, his dick is huge. Wait a minute, I know this guy. I knew he looked familiar. I've sucked his dick before at the other place. I've had him in one of the booths at the other place, where they don't have good gay porn movies, where it always smells like cum.

I remember him saying, “Make that dick come! Make that dick come!” He came all over my shirt that night. He had a lot of cum built up. Now it's like his dick won't stop growing in my mouth. I suck him slow. I've got my lips tight around his dick. I love sucking dick. I could suck dick all day. I would take load after load down my slutty fucking throat. He's moaning. He likes the way I'm sucking his dick. I can tell. It's one of the biggest I've had in my mouth. I mean he's gotta be like nine inches, six inches around. Gimme this dick! Nice and fucking juicy. I grab ahold of his hips. I push in. He shoves it all the way back in my throat. I didn't know I could take a dick this size so deep. I shut my eyes. I need to focus on all this meat I'm getting.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp
.

I take it all the way. I've worked up a thick mix of spit. Big Thick Dick stands up on top of the bench over me. His dick is point blank to my face. I put it back in my mouth. Yeah, I'm gonna make this dick come. Big Thick Dick grabs my head, mashing me on his dick. It stretches my throat. I don't gag. Big Thick Dick reaches over my shoulder and unlocks the door to the booth. He cracks it open just a little. He wants someone to see us, to see me sucking his humongous dick. It's cool. I don't mind. Big Thick Dick wants someone to watch him give my slutty throat a beating.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp
.

I'm turned on to the thought of someone walking in on us. I want someone to watch me suck this guy off. Big Thick Dick grabs me, holding my throat on his dick. I want to worship him on the regular. My throat would be good and stretched. My spit leaks around his dick. Drool trickles down my chin and shirt. Fuck yeah! I'm getting my mouth used. He pulls out suddenly.
Dude, what the fuck?
I'm hungry for him. We move out in the back. I sit my naked, bare ass on the cold gray linoleum floor. I open up. He shoves his dick back into my mouth. Someone's going to see us. We're going to get caught. My heart beats fast at the thought of being seen. Big Thick Dick tells me that my mouth is wet just like a pussy. I take my glasses and tuck them into my breast pocket. I hold on to the backs of his thighs. I tighten my lips like a rope. I'm gonna make him come. He slides all the way to the back.
Deep-throat that dick!
I'm such a slut!

Someone is standing there watching me get my throat used. It's Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty. I sense him getting closer. He unzips his jeans and pulls out his double-chocolate dick. I gotta have him.

“Let him suck you,” Big Thick Dick says to Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty. I have two big ole dicks in my face now and switch off sucking them both. Fuck yeah; I'm servicing two sweet dicks. This is so fucking hot! I'm so glad I came here. I work my dick stiff in my hands as Big Thick Dick and Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty take turns using my whorish mouth. I gag, but they don't give a shit. They just want to get their nuts off. I love being used like this. Both of them are going to come so hard. I can tell.

“Suck that dick,” Big Thick Dick says. Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty just stands there with his dick in my mouth. I'm sucking him good. This isn't the only time I have had the chance
to suck two dicks. Fuck, this is so hot! Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty whispers that he's gonna come. I suck him harder and harder. My lips are good and tight around his dick. I'm showing these men that I know how to take a dick. He comes. Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty fills my mouth. I throat his load like the cum-slut I am. He comes a huge load. He pulls out and shoots what's left on my face. I lick Double-Chocolate Bubble Booty's cum from my dick-sucking lips. Fuck yeah!