Date: Tue, 14 Jan 2003 03:04:20 +0000
From: graham_cro_uk@hotmail.com
Subject: Baroque

I used to think that London was the centre of the universe. Perhaps Nicolaus
Copernicus could have put me right on that particular misconception. My only
excuse is that when you grow up in a small village in the countryside, the
metropolis exerts a gravity and one is drawn like Orpheus to its concrete
jaws.

Soho is the beating heart of the West End. A toll free theme park that can
take its toll. 24 hour hedonism - easy everything. Whatever your heart or
even your cock desires.

Sometimes you can sit and watch the countless faces pass by. With the flux
of speeding lives comes a sense of detachment like a stupor. People
interconnecting like thoughts then lost from each other like amnesia.

Tonight I had stepped into this epicurean garden, opening my mind to
possibilities. It was just like any other chill October night. I starred
from the window of my usual nondescript boy bar. Listening to the communal
monologues, buried in my own nonchalance. Handing out conversation like
cigarettes and leaving alone.

I decided to take a walk to the end of Compton Street and into the
labyrinthine red light area.
"coke mate?"
A pensive young guy shifted his hands around in his baggy pockets.
"No, er...thanks mate."
I walked on not really knowing why I was here. I turned down another gaudy
street, hypnotised by pulsing neon of the porn shops and trails of taxis. A
black guy walked by with a group of women. They were dressed in the kind of
logo emblazoned cloths that declared wealth but spoke of sartorial
vulgarity.

I stood staring into the window of a porn shop wondering what I could
purchase to get off on. Shortly, I noticed a diaphanous shadow overlapping
the darker one that I had created before the images of merging skin. I
turned and saw that same guy but without his brash female company. Perhaps
he had noticed me looking at him? He resembled an upturned game of scrabble
with his logo inscribed garments. He stood slightly shorter than me but
looked thick set and muscular. His close fitting trousers bulged
conspicuously at the crotch. Although he was probably in his late twenties,
his face told of excess and hedonism. He was looking directly at me. I
smiled so as not to appear rude and he smiled back.
"What are you looking for mate?"
The truth was, I did not know what I was looking for. Hell, who does till it
arrives.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Not sure really."
I gave a nervous laugh.
"I can get you girls, nice ones, what are you into?"
Before I could answer, he showed me his diamond encrusted jewellery and gold
rings. I tried to look impressed as he told me how rich he was becoming
through pimping. Undoubtedly, it must be interesting work but I was spending
more time trying to discern what was underneath it all both literally and
metaphorically.
After he'd finished his monologue he asked me again if he could sell
anything from his rather exotic `market stall'.
"I prefer guys really, sorry to have wasted your time mate."
"I can get guys too, what type of guy do you like, hey I've got a 23 year
old guy, very fit?"
"Actually, I think you're very attractive yourself but I don't really pay
for it as yet. I guess as time goes by and I get older it may become a
necessity... Not that there's anything wrong with paying, on the contrary, I
think it saves alot of money on psychotherapy"
He laughed.
"If you like me then I am available, think about it."
"Ok I will, uh...can I buy you a coffee, or are you busy?"
"Sure, there's a place across the road." He pointed at an intimate Italian
cafe, empty but for a young couple.

I went to pay for the coffees but he intervened. I carried the coffees to
the window seat and looked out into the fluorescent dreams of night. I
thought how strange it was that this human crucible can throw together such
unlikely meetings. As I sipped my coffee I looked back at him and he seemed
to be scrutinising me. I felt slightly uncomfortable under his gaze so I
broke the silence.
"I think really I have got you here under false pretenses you know, unless
you just want to chat. Even this may be a little tedious for you as my life
is far from eventful."
"Well, I meet alot of people in my line of work and everybody wants
something. I am just figuring out what you want."
I would probably have compared myself with Dr Faustas at that moment but
secularism is all that I have ever really understood.
"What do you dream about?"
His voice softened slightly as his eyes gave a sideways glance and then
sidled back into the murky depths of his coffee.
"Different things, I guess. Half the time I am not even sure if conscious
thought is a kind of dream."
"Yeah, I used think like that too."
I was not sure if he was trying to humour me for my rather obtuse answer.
"But you must have fantasies."
"Yes, I have a few. but inhibitions usually get in the way."
"Let go of them."
He gave a sly smile and I felt a reassuring hand run up my leg from under
the table.
"Being seduced by a rogue has always been one of my fantasies."
A gold tooth drew my eyes to his confident smile. Clearly he understood my
allusion to himself.
"I love sex, you have to in my kind of work. I mostly f**k girls but I'll
f**k guys sometimes. That's what you want innit?"
"Perhaps, although, this may sound misguided but I have this friend in Togo
and, well I said that I would wait for him."
"Is he waiting for you?"
I decided not to answer that question and expose myself to criticism.
"Ok, I know, Baroque!" he seemed triumphal and rather smug.
"What?" I wondered if my friend was loosing the plot.
"A club, I'm taking you there, drink up mate, my name's Des by the way."
I shook his hand and smiled again.
"Graham."

We left the cafe and I tried to keep up with his eager footsteps. We weaved
through the milling crowds that spilled onto the roads. I caught snippets of
conversations like news bulletins. Different dialects and languages mixed
like the hues of the shop facades. Within a couple of turns, it seemed
darker and the crowds more dispersed and distant. He lead me to the entrance
of a dark narrow alleyway strewn with garbage bags and ushered me to follow
him. Despite being a little drunk, I was not so brash as to follow blindly.
"Sorry, Des, I would prefer not to follow you into there."
Had he not laughed, I would have wandered back, although he did grab my coat
sleeve which freaked me out a bit. I shook off his grip. He looked at me
rather bemused.
"Chill out man, I ain't gonna rob ya, look there's the door."
My eyes adjusted to the gloom and sure enough a steel door broke the
continuity of the brickwork. I still had reservations about it but in the
clutches of fear, I decided to take a chance.
"Ok, you first, and if you are going to beat me, please, spare my cute
face."
He laughed.
"Yeah, you got a pretty face, white boy."
I was unsure at that point if he fancied me or was fishing around for my
latent desires to emerge. I managed to sidestep the garbage and joined him
at the side door on which he knocked once. It opened and as we both stepped
in, I could faintly hear the bassline of a familiar pop song. While I
deliberated over that we stepped into a minimalist reception room. Recessed
spotlights reflected like an upturned treasure chest in the smoky marble
floor. An enormous doorman with cane row hair and a tuxedo looked at us.
"Yo, Tyrone! how's it hangin bro" Des slapped palms with the giant and
pressed fists together.
"Cool bruv." The doorman flashed a metallic grin.
"How was Venus....me chose `er for ya." Des said enthusiastically.
"She naaasty girl, she com bobbo `pon me all night." I understood most of
the doorman's Jamaican patois.
Des laughed and said
"Laters bruv, one."
They brushed palms and we walked to a smoked glass wall at the far end of
the room, I took a last glance at the doorman. He seemed to be looking at me
so I gave him a demure smile and stood at the smoked glass wall. All of a
sudden, doors slid back and we stepped into a small elevator. As the doors
closed, Des looked me up and down and I put my eyes to the floor.
"Check it out man."
his eyes were on his own crotch where his cock had got hard and extended
down his left leg. It looked huge and I could make out the outline of the
thick head.
"Nice." I decided at that point I did not want to massage his already
inflated ego anymore than his inflated dick.
"Kiss it." His voice became authoritative.
"Kiss it yourself." He looked momentarily surprised but quickly regained his
composure. Of course I would have loved to kiss the bulge but I wanted to
remain an enigma to him for a while longer. I flashed a smile at him which
seemed to annoy him.
"Yeah pussy boy, laugh at me, cuz you ain't gonna be laughing later..." he
looked pissed.
"Sorry Des, I meant no offense." I looked back down at the floor as the
doors slid open.

He lead me into another very contrasting and dimly lit room. It was
decadently furnished with reproduction chairs and an ornate cloakroom
counter topped with marble and embellished at the edges with gold leaf
wrought iron. A full length mirror adorned the red velveteen wall, framed
within golden filigree. I handed my jacket to the beautiful androgynous
oriental guy who appeared from the cloakroom. He dutifully took Des's coat
and disappeared into the half light.
"Wait here."
Des went into the bathroom as I looked into the mirror, beguiled by the
events of the night. Des emerged dabbing his nose with the back of his hand
and sniffing profusely. His eyes had become more dilated. The hard on in his
trousers was once again evident.
Des grinned at me and pushed open a door.
"Welcome to Baroque, private members club, don't forget to tell your friends
about it, the rich ones that is...."
"Of course, thank you."
At that point I realised that Des had kindly allowed me a free preview.
Thudding music kicked out a bassline and dim footlights illuminated the
edges of a stage in the centre of the darkened room. A perimeter of tables
with ornate preternatural blue lights glowed dimly at each. We made our way
to one near the stage and slid into sumptuous seats. I lit a cigarette and
offered one to Des. As I lit his cigarette, fire danced in his eyes and cast
off shadows into the gloom.
"Carpe diem"
I realised I had spoken it aloud.
"What?" Des looked puzzled.
"Seize the day, in latin, it was a popular saying during the 'Baroque'
period."

And this was a moment seized. As the lights dimmed I noticed a a few other
hunched figures shifting impatiently at tables. Des was ordering drinks as
my attention returned to him. Within a couple of minutes two large drinks on
ice arrived at the table courtesy of a smart young arabic waiter. It tasted
like Absinth. The music stopped and the foot lights diminished into
darkness.

I could hear footsteps on the dance floor and just about see multiple
silhouettes filling it. For a moment, silence and tension, then, in an
instant, the lights blazed and pounding electro pop kicked out a seductive
melody. On stage, four pairs of dancers started to throw-down on stage in a
`v' formation. Gyrating and twisting to the beats and dressed only in
leather briefs and bondage harnesses stretched over their oiled chests. At
the front, two well muscled black guys flexed their muscled stomachs as they
thrust their hips suggestively at the small audience. Lifting their arms
they wound their herculean bodies beneath the syncopated flashing of
spotlights. Their hairy armpits already glittering with sweat. All the
dancers had lifted their arms and moved with perfect synchonicity. Behind
them, two tall arabic looking guys stood legs apart alternately flexing
their biceps then putting their hands on their hips, mock-grinding the air.
I looked at their hairy stomachs glistening with oils as they moved serpent
like, staring moodily into the blackness. Close behind, two indian guys
stretched and stomped barefoot. Their lithe bodies weaving a spell as their
bulging leather pouches stabbed the air. The dancers formed a semi circle
facing outwards and rested backwards on their arms, still pushing out their
well filled pouches, sweat now shimmering on their recumbent bodies.

I knocked back the Absinth and more seemed to arrive while I gazed,
enchanted by the siren calls of exotic flesh. I glanced at the other
spectators and was sure some were masturbating in the swirling shadows. Des
was rubbing his dick under the table and transfixed by the oriental dancers
who now stepped to the fore. I started to feel the rush of my own hard on.
The music slid into a funky bassline and dirty guitar. Blusey piano riffs
danced around the merging performers, they started to unfasten their bondage
harnesses, which dropped to the floor simultaneously. I stared at the black
guy as his hands pushed downward on the slippery leather briefs revealing
tufts of dark pubes. He pushed them lower so that the thick stem of his cock
caught in the light. All the dancers now dropped their skimpy briefs and
their large dicks slapped on their thighs as they gyrated their bodies,
touching their oiled dicks and inducing slow climbing erections.

I started to feel intoxicated and looked at Des. He had pushed back his
chair and was running his hand slowly up and down his exposed cock. Although
in shadow, it curved upwards from his trousers and looked to be 10 glorious
inches. It looked veined and ugly and was fatter at the base. It was uncut,
the bulbous light brown head slipping fully out of the foreskin with each
jerk. He looked at me and continued to pleasure himself.
"You wan some?"
his voice an octave lower than usual, smooth and bewitching like the voice
of a secret lover.
"Come on man, it wants you too."
Again he looked annoyed at my reluctance .
"I can't Des, it's too public."
"F**k's sake, just get under the table before I get vex again." I slipped
from my chair and crawled on the thick fleecy carpet. The music mixed into
some drug induced trance music. Its anthemic keyboards filled my brain.
Through the gap between table top and stage the dancers had started to push
their hot naked bodies against each other, touching each other's hard dicks,
sword fighting with them, indiscriminately exploring each other's flesh. I
moved nearer Des's huge dick which he pushed it down at my mouth as I part
emerged from the table. I let my unmoving lips rest on it and it smelt
faintly of piss. He firmly grasped my head from behind and pushed my mouth
onto it.
"Ooooh..good boy."
he exhaled, as it slid into my mouth. I part emerged from under the table
and tried to let as much of his dick as I could into my throat. Both of his
hands now clamped either side of my head and he started to f**k my mouth,
his rings dug into my ears as his grip tightened. As I knelt at his feet he
tried to push his cock too far into my mouth and I felt myself on the verge
of gagging so I pulled off.
"Hey, keep da riddem."
he was once again annoyed. I noticed him signal to one of the dancers but
obediently kept slowly sucking his huge prick, making my lips tight around
his slippery girth. As I looked up, one of the oriental dancers was kissing
him passionately as he leaned back. His pale dick pushing against Des's
shoulder. I pulled off Des's dark veined monster and allowed the oriental
guy to massage it. To my shock, he broke off with his kiss and spat on Des's
twitching cock, He straddled his legs and let the thing gradually slip up
his hungry arsehole till it was fully embedded. They kissed some more and
Des started making obscene grunts as he rapidly f**ked the guy from
underneath, hands steadying and spreading his buttocks. He looked at me
between kisses as I sat back on the chair and started to jerk off.

Everything seemed to be degenerating into something bestial, something
unknown, yet it awoke a lust in me that seemed to consume my being. Bodies
twisted and writhed, sweating and groaning lasciviously. On stage, an old
spectator had mounted an indian guy who was on all fours as the old guy
knelt behind, his trousers around his ankles. He seemed to f**k him
mercilessly hard and I could hear their flesh slapping above the music. One
of the black dancers was slipping his fat member into the indian guy's
mouth. The music seemed to be looping on the same tune as bodies interlocked
in complete abandonment. A twenty-something white guy stepped up onto the
stage and started kissing the other black guy and arabic guy alternately
while they jerked his ruddy and inflamed member. He knelt down and fumbled
with his trousers, getting on all fours allowing the arabic guy to start
pumping his expectant arse.

Des had broken into a sweat and continued to push up his slick fat cock into
the oriental guy who was groaning and jerking rapidly, his hungry arsehole
swallowing the whole length as he squatted up and down. Des pushed him off
and got him onto all fours facing me. Without hesitation he spat on his
oversexed dick and jammed it back into the guy's slackened hole. Again he
looked at me and started to f**k him hard, quite indifferent to his yelps.
"Bastard." I said but I could feel the tantalising pleasure the sight was
giving me. I started to jerk faster, slipping a finger into my butt, my
heart palpitating frantically.

Des grasped the guy's shoulders and started to plunge deeper and harder. The
oriental guy was now rocking back on him, panting like a dog. Des slowed and
savoured his moment of delight. Then grabbed him at the waist, pulling him
back and ramming his cock fully inside while he spunked his entire load into
the guy's arse with pounding thrusts and beast like grunts. After a couple
more jerks the oriental guy lurched back and quivered shooting his load to
the floor as Des emptied the last drops with slow hip gyrations. He pulled
out and wiped the glistening spunk over the guys butt cheeks and back,
making snail-trails. The oriental guy got up and leaked spunk as he walked
back to the stage. Des looked at me, his cock still fully bloated.

On the stage the indian guy and old man were on their side facing me, the
old guy f**cking him from behind and the black guy kneeling at his gaping
mouth, smearing pre-cum on his lips. The old guy pulled out and growled as
his cum squirted over the indian guys torso. He then forced it back in,
making the indian guy cum. As he closed his eyes in ecstacy the black guy
spunked his sticky jiz explosively into his open mouth.

Next to them half wreathed in shadow, the young white guy was being
alternately f**ked by arabic and black dicks. He had hoisted up his arse,
straight legged, like a bitch on heat and groaned with his head pressed to
the stage. The arabic guy stood behind him and f**ked him with incredible
speed, his hairy pendulous balls swinging in mid air. His angle changed to
closer upward thrusts as he emptied his heavy sack into the reddened man
c**t and gasped for joy. As he pulled out, cum dripped from shaft and he
walked around the prone recipient, kneeling and wiping the residual jism
into the guy's wavy blond hair. As soon as the black guy entered the filthy
hole he must have hit a spot and the young white guy immediately came in
lengthy squirts. The sweating black stud continued to pump his fat juicy
dick in and out, the sweat from his forehead running down his grimacing
face. As he pulled out his juice sprayed over the lilly white back.

I looked down and Des knelt before me, naked from the waste down. He had
taken grip of my yearning dick. One hand pinched my nipple painfully then
flicked it as it began to go red. He did the same on the other nipple while
his firm grip tossed my cock. His lips seemed abrasive as they kissed and
chewed the other nipple
"Ow, it hurts a bit,.... ouch."
He ignored my plaintive cries, but it was an exquisite pain.
He let go of it and dragged my jeans to half mast. I slipped down onto my
back and as he stood over me, my head pushed up against the lower upholstery
of the chair. His legs straddled my chest as he pulled my hair to force my
head onto his dirty cock. I could barely move my head in that position so he
started to f**k my face hitting his cock on the back of my mouth so I could
barely breath. I reached round his powerful legs and wanked my cock in time
to his thrusting thighs. His dark ball sack occasionally tickling my chest.
"Aaaah, pussy boy"
he grunted and pulled out his gorged monster. With one hand he grabbed my
hair, yanking my head forward and with the other he carefully aimed a
powerful jet of love juice all over my face, squeezing his hips towards me.
"Aaaah yeah"
I closed my eyes and mouth as the warm spunk flowed one squirt after the
other down my face. I was nearly coming and felt the delicious tingle in my
balls. He leant back and licked two fat fingers. Fumbling for my arsehole,
they found their mark and he forced them inside as I squirmed in ecstacy and
pain he said
"Cum for me, pussy boy."
After two more jerks, I squirted my first shot up his back and he shoved his
fingers in even further, the pain and rapture making my whole body shudder
as I powerfully shot every drop of frustration up his back and shivered as
the bliss radiated out through every fibre of my being.

In the dizzy after glow I felt affectionate towards him, but already he had
started to get up and pulled on his tight trousers. I looked up, still wide
eyed but his attention had moved on. I pulled up my jeans and looked at the
distant guy who had been so intimate but now indifferently dressed himself.
He grabbed his jacket and disappeared off to the bathroom. I realised that
the lights were starting to come up, so did likewise.

As I washed my face I realised Des was not around and guessed from that
point onwards that he probably sought new conquests and discoveries as he
explored his inner desires. I found my way out into the chill night air and
slipped into the cold sanctuary of shadows. I reached for a cigarette but
found a business card. It read `Baroque' and underneath it was printed
`Des...'


Note:
Please forward any comments to the above email.
I hope you enjoyed my story......Graham