Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 18:08:28 -0800 (PST) From: ron ronn Subject: Al and Ben Take a Road Trip This is my second erotic fiction story inspired by a road trip taken by myself and my best bud. I hope it makes everyone hard. If you have any suggestions or literary criticisms, (be nice, girls), drop me an email at warp8tobeach at yahoo.com. Thanks. Jack Russell "AL AND BEN TAKE A ROAD TRIP" I want to tell you a story about my best friend, Al McCalaster. He's probably one of the straightest gay friends one could have and his cocky confidence is always in a wrestling match with his quiet sensitivities. Every time we go out on weekends to check out the gayborhood, something funny is about to happen and it's the unplanned venues that usually turn out to be the most campy. My phone rings. It's Saturday night and Al in his usual weekend state of anxious boredom. He's like Cinderella fretting just before midnight with a cell phone in one hand and a cigarette engaged between his lips. He paces the floor nervously as his two cats dodge his wayward feet. His cluttered living room looks like its been the victim of a frat party only to suffer the indignity of being visited by a passing hurricane. Magazines and new car brochures are tossed about. The ashtray has a full compliment of butts and a pot pipe is stuffed with stash. "Whatyoudoin?", he asks in his usual New York draw. It's more of a command than a question since I know that Al is on the quest for a piece of ass...the holy grail of gay life. Lurking beneath his jocks is an 8" Goliath toss of meat straining on its chain like a pit bull agitated by a unfamiliar scent. "What are you doing, Al?" I reply with a hint of humor. I know that soon we'll be on the road in search of our destiny. I do a quick online check and we both decide that it's time to free ourselves of the Ft Lauderdale scene. There can be no alibi about it, we're taking a road trip. "Here we go...", I said. "There's a transgender bar in the next county called "Wilma's". I've never been there. Hmm, I wonder if it's a dive?" Al chuckles in anticipation. I can almost see his eyes reduced to slits as a mischievous smile draws across his tanned face. He's now stroking his goatee. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun! We'll be laughing our asses off!" We arranged to meet at my place and downed a couple of beers just to get the edge off. Soon we were in a transitional area of town that had seen better days but was stubbornly in the process of a rebirth with new condo construction midwifing buildings that were left derilect after a war. Homeless figures prowled in darkened shadows and drug pushers plied their wares in front of barred store fronts. Yep, I thought. We're going to have a blast. Wilma's was on the corner and attired in twinkling Christmas lights that created a surreal reality in contrast to the neighborhoods soulless feel. A festive and hurried flow of patrons in various stages of drag or sexual awareness arrived at the front door and were greeted by a shaved headed bouncer. He smiled warmly and ushered us in behind two guys dressed as if they just got out of the office and were satisfying their curiosities before heading home to the wife and kids. Al and I have a plan of attack all worked out when exploring new territory. We split up to survey the floor plan and then meet at the bar, order beer, and decide where the action might be. A mostly ignored drag show was in progress while other drag queens made their rounds with the patrons making small talk and encouraging them to fill their cleavage with dollar bills. What a way to make a living, I considered. I saw two fashionably dressed guys in their middle thirties idling over tired drinks. When I walked by, the guy with neatly styled thinning blond hair took an extended look at me. His pursed lips revealed a subtle smile. Had I been a submarine, I'm sure I would of heard a "ping" on the hull. The timing was right and I returned eye contact, leaned towards them and made a funny comment about one of the drag queens that looked so bad as a woman, I feared what she might look like out of uniform. They laughed good naturely and I introduced myself. "I'm Ben", I said holding out my hand and initiating formal negotiations. "Charles", the smaller one of them replied confidently. His eyes were a dreamy light blue. I found him riveting. He could be sexy talking about concrete. Fashionably dressed, he knew what to wear to complement his slim build and delicate features. He wore his long sleeve shirt opened collared. A fine gold choker chains traced his neckline and leading my eyes down to the point where they disappeared behind the button line. "And this is my boyfriend, Doug", Charles volunteered for his solidly built friend. Even though seated, I marveled at this nicely assembled hunk of man. Doug was a few blocks north of 210 lbs and his calloused handshake was vice gripped and a bit intimidating. It almost reeked of "bend over, I'm driving". His polo shirt struggled with his biceps and his traps appeared to be cast of stone. This guy knew his way around the weight room and I hoped that he was just as home in the bedroom too. Al rambled over to us in idle amusement and from the look on his face, I could hear him congratulating me on my quick work. I introduced Charles and Doug while the bartender brought them fresh beers. Doug ran his hands through his jet black hair. He had wide cheekbones and deeply set hazel eyes that suggested Slavic lineage. We settled into relaxed conversation ranging from the bar scene to our jobs. Charles was an accountant who spoke in precise and clipped sentences. I wondered if he was as clinical when being intimate. Doug was a personal trainer. He seemed comfortable with his boyfriend taking the lead. "So what do you do, Ben?", Doug asked. "I'm going to school right now". I said. Al leaked a smile between his pursed lips as he lit his cigarette. He heard this line before and knew what was coming. "Oh, where?", Doug asked. "F U C K-U", I replied with each letter getting a higher octave. We all collapsed in laughter and I stroked Dougs arm. I just had to feel him and wanted to see his reaction to my provocations. Charles saw my moves and returned affection by putting his head on Al's shoulder. Al pulled Charles into him and felt Charles dick straining in his pants. Al was facing me and rolled his eyes and opened his mouth in amazement. He held his hands apart discreetly and mouthed the words to me..."this big!" "Are you a couple?", Charles asked me. He flashed a wicked smile. "No, we're best buds", I said winking to Al. I was putting it all together like a toy store puzzle. We have Charles, the little guy with the horse cock and he's teamed up with Doug, a not too shabby side of beef who's a big bottom at heart and loves dick up his ass. As we exchange more biographical information with each other, a mathematical inverse formula emerges as personal comfort zones shrink, bodies rub, glances are returned, and a primal body language becomes more significant than the spoken word. Charles and Doug have been dating for two years and had an open relationship. Now I know what they mean by the "terrible twos". I was ready to order another round of drinks but Charles tilted his head to one side and confessed that he was in the mood for some wine and had a bottle back at his apartment. Doug remained quiet like a fisherman waiting for trout to bite. "Want to go back to my place?", Charles teased. His pale blue eyes sparkled like wet mints under manicured eyebrows. "My apartments over on 5th". He motioned with his hand that it wasn't far. It didn't matter to me if his place was in South America. We were off to bed and it was a place we all wanted to go. Al and I followed our new friends in their Mustang. They must of thought they were driving in a NASCAR race but Al's Nissen Z perky engine kept us on their bumpers ass. I started singing my AB'C punctuated by laughing thats been lubercated by a few beers. "Whatareyoudoin dork?", Al belted. "My AB'C! Get it? We're the alphabet gang tonight. Al, Ben, Charles, and Doug!" "Oh, you're too funny", Al chuckled. "It's going to be more O, O, O...Ohhhhhhh, that feels so good!" We exchanged hi fives. We followed the Mustang around a traffic circle and pulled into a gated garage at a new apartment buildings in the area. On the street level were shops and the ubiqious Starbucks and up-scale delis that served as a social anchor for the block. A private sun deck had a large lagoon pool complete with waterfall and jacuzzi. Across the hall was a full gym where dateless souls were pumping up on a Saturday night. A second level running track ran overhead. "Fancy, schmancy", I whispered to Al. We took the elevator up to Charles apartment. Doug was directly in front of me and I ogled over the perfection of his ass. He filled his jeans beautifully as this massive squatting muscle rode high on his hips erupting from the pelvis like chemically enhanced melons. Imagine the pleasure Charles must get in being fucked by this guy and running his hands over his plump ass and fingering him into a deeper orgasm. Charles had his digs set up as if waiting for a camera crew from Metropolitan Home Magazine. The furniture was smartly arranged around a flat screen TV and the balcony was decorated with miniature bistro lights. A bottle of white wine was produced, candles were lit, and the stereo resonated with some post modern tunes. We settled in the living room conversing in hushed banter and sipping our wine. They were great hosts and Al and I were in no pain. This type of evening certainly was not expected. Still, I couldn't help wonder who was going to raise the sails and get this boat to sea. Before I could even complete my idle thought, something incredible happened. The smaller couch that Doug and Al were on was a bit cramped for the two of them and Doug's massive thighs were pushing into Al's as if they were in a tightly seated airliner. Doug made a dismissive gesture suggesting, "oh well, why not", picked up Al and put him on his lap like Santa at Macy's. I popped a boner right there as I'm sure Al had one too since I could see the outline of his member under his pants. Before the magic was lost, I made my move on Charles and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His cologne hit me like an aphrodisiac. There was no turning back. Charles twisted his torso and I could see his nipple through his unbuttoned shirt. He put his hand over the back of my head and our lips merged. I received the deepest tonguing I've ever had since college when I dated a sex crazed mid westerner. I was surprised and delighted that Charles was so aggressive. How unusual for a bottom, I surmised. Charles pulled off my shirt and his went awol next. He skin was silky with boy like pecs and six pack abs. His happy trail were whispers of blond hair that pointed south like a wayward compass. He maneuvered on top of me and continued a full court press. He pinched my nipples, stroked my midsection, and paused at my belt line. His timing was impeccable. It was intoxicating. I stole a glance over to Al and Doug to see what the competition was doing. They completed more sales as they were both void of clothing and Doug was surveying Als body with his mouth. Doug had Al pinned underneath him and his back sprayed out from his waist like a mantra ray. Looks like Dougs a top and even though Al was one also, he was going to be demoted to Doug's bitch tonight. I'm sure my friend would consider this an open invitation. As Doug moved over Al, I spied his steel rod swaying back in forth and his low hung ball sack could be seen under his inseam. I stretched over and slapped Dougs hairless ass. It was as if cut from granite. I'll bet that he could crack open a acorn caught in his hole just by flexing those cheeks. Charles slid his hand down my jocks and gently stroked my pulsating cock pulling at my wild bush. In one twist he removed my shorts and I kicked them off my foot. They sailed across the room crash landing on a table lamp. Charles revealed himself in the candlelight and his juicy cock saluted the ceiling and rose past the center line cut in his abs. I felt so humbled. This slim stud had an honest 8" cut member with the grith of a washing machine agitator. It glistened like an icicle in the wavering light. Our dicks merged and his looked morphed next to my pitiful 6" cut. Stroking them both, I whipped them into a frenzy and Charles shot spunk onto my chest. "Don't worry.", he said softly. "I got a bucketful to go." As if by magic, Charles produced lube and greased up our rods. He nibbled at my neck while steering his hand under my scrotum and massaged hot lube into my puckered hole. I felt disconnected as if looking at myself from another room. This is odd, I thought. I'm a top and it should be my hand loosing his sphincter muscle. Assuming that little Charles was the bottom and big muscled Doug was the daddy was completely incorrect. A little light came on in my inebriated head. They were BOTH tops! My little ABC song in Al's car earlier had metastasized to a new band..."the four tops"! I tossed a useless gaze towards Al. Our eyes met and we shared a drunken shit faced grin. Doug took Al in the missionary position and immediately wedged his meat into Al's ass. Doug rocked over him like a wrestler humiliating his opponent. Al hung on for dear life with his ass pulled back and knees practically in his ear canal. He wrapped his legs across Doug's waist and dug his fingers into his thick back. Doug propelled his full weight into Al and his hot pubes slapped against my friends ass cheeks. It sounded like the clapping of meaty hands. Al let out a hurtful whine but Doug stopped it as his lips clamped down over Al's mouth. "Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth", Doug instructed. "We're just getting started." Al closed his eyes allowing his sense of touch to take over. He went on the offensive burying his mouth into Dougs chest muscles much like a great white shark striking an unsuspecting harbor seal. They were in perfect harmony and building a tempo as Doug stretched Al's hole. Charles and I were no slouches. We were quite busy swapping spit and running our hands over every crevice of our sweltering bodies. While Al was being bred conventually, Charles guided me down to the rug and urged me into a passive doggie style berth . My ass was perked, sticking out, my hole wide open. I felt so vulnerable. Before I could even get my paws into position, he slid on top of me and slapped his sheathed cock against my ass. I felt little resistance as his cock wormed its way in. He's fucking me from behind, controlling my sexual wants, and then pressed his lips to my ear. "You're my slut boy, Ben.", he drooled in an unfamiliar southern draw. I was shit faced. This guy's a pro. He even called me by my correct name! Now back to Al and Doug. The band was ready for its gay crescendo. Doug arched his back, made a series of guttural grunts and ejected at least three loads of wash into Al's puckered ass. Doug collapsed on Al and his beefy body all but swallowed my friends frame. As Doug withdrew, the reservoir of the condom was swollen resembling a water balloon. Doug removed the condom from his rod as another shot of spunk hit Al's chest. Al had cum too and their sperm swam as one river down Al's torso. Doug sat on Al's face, allowed him to lick his sweaty hole, and then drove his still erect rod into Al's mouth. I could make out the veins in Dougs pulsating manhood. Al slurped it in a confusion of spit and cream. His eyes closed and hands clasping Doug's balls, Al was in an infantile clutch of his daddy, luxuriating in the embrace of just being filled by a man now wrapped around him. He was clearly enjoying himself. Charles slid his smooth chest over my back as he pounded me. Usually, I have to contract my sphincter muscles around my partners dick when I guest bottom but with Charles, his mushroom sized head and thick rod split me open to manhole sized proportions. We moved in symphony. I moaned, he grunted and stroked my dick with his left hand. My prostrate enjoyed the massage and then could take no more releasing a shot into Charles palm. He took his fingers to his mouth. "Mmmmm", he resonated at the taste of my milk. He embraced me in a hug and we enjoyed a celibate moment regaining our breaths. I thought we had moved on to the post sex phase where you light a cigarette but Charles had more sexual stamina than I had imagined. He turned me on my side, one leg on the floor with the other draped over his shoulder. "I want to go deep.", he demanded. And deep he went. It felt like an anaconda slithering for prey in a gopher hole. I chocked on the thought that it would soon exit out my mouth. He churned me as if making butter and his pace suddenly slowed down. He pulled me into him, his nipples skating on my back, his hands holding on to my hips. I knew what that meant. I felt intense heat as he expelled another shot into me. Surprisingly, I was not spent and loosened a million little Ben's over my leg. Oh, the humanity! Charles fell back to the rug with his chest heaving, his cock still swollen. I stroked his cock lovingly. It deserved nothing less. "I feel so good.", I exhaled. It was probably the most prolific statement I had ever made since I told my last boyfriend that I wouldn't cum in his mouth.