Date: Sun, 30 Jun 2019 19:43:58 +0000 (UTC)
From: Ken James <ken@kenjamesfiction.com>
Subject: Dick Dancers Ch. 01

* * * * * * * * * *
Male strippers get wild at a gay billionaire's party.
* * * * * * * * * *

"Richard, you're on in five minutes." The manager's voice cut through
Rick's near-doze.

Rick Wright, who danced under the name "Richard Long," was sitting in the
beat-up old easy chair in the corner of the bar storeroom which doubled as
the dancers' dressing room. The book on database design in Rick's lap was
dull reading and he'd been fighting sleep for the past half hour.

The clock over the door read "1:30 a.m." It was time for his last dance. It
was early Saturday morning, so he could sleep in. That was way better than
Tuesday, when he danced until midnight, then had to get up for an 8:00
a.m. class. Still, he figured there were lots of worse ways for a college
student to make extra money.

Rick stood up, stretched and made a few dance moves to make sure his
muscles were sufficiently warmed-up. He swigged bottled water, then
examined his reflection in the tall wall mirror. Not bad. He was 21 years
old, 5'10" tall, weighed 175 pounds, and was nicely muscled from dancing
and the gym. His eyes were blue. His brown hair was so fine and silky that
he'd given up on the spiky hair styles. Even with a fistful of styling gel,
his hair would be flat on his head within fifteen minutes, so he'd just cut
it short.

The current dancer's last song was fading out. Rick made a final adjustment
to his posing strap, a tiny black thong with a fabric pouch barely
containing his cock and balls, and then stepped into the heat of the
barroom as the DJ announced, "Once again, Harry's Garage is proud to
present Richard Long!"

Drums pounded through the sound system as Rick ran through the applauding
crowd. A pulsing synthesizer bass line joined the drums as he approached
the platform. He jumped up onto the tiny stand under the spotlights just as
the melody started.

The first song was fast. Dancing to it was like a hard workout. Within two
minutes, Rick's body was slick with sweat. The next song was slower,
allowing Rick to be sensual, with a lot of suggestive hand, butt and pelvic
motion. Rick liked the slow songs because they allowed him to get really
sexy. It was also easier for the patrons to stuff money into the waist band
of his posing strap. Harry's Garage paid him $50 a night, but he usually
made a couple hundred more in tips.

Rick finished his 20 minute set with another fast song. The crowd applauded
wildly as he took a final bow and left the stand.

Back in the dressing room, he grabbed a towel and began wiping the sweat
off his body. The manager stuck his head in the door and said, "Richard,
there's a guy outside that wants to talk to you. Is that okay?" Rick
nodded.

A man entered, unobtrusively slipping a bill into the manager's hand as he
came through the door. He was in his forties, dark-skinned, short, balding
and pudgy. Despite the heat, he was dressed in a dark sports coat and
tie. "Mister Long, my name is Joel Cairo. I have a proposition for you--"

"Sorry Mister Cairo, I'm not a hustler," Rick said quickly.

"Of course not," Cairo answered smoothly. "I am not attempting to
proposition you for sex. My employer is giving a private party tomorrow
night. He has instructed me to retain male dancers to provide
entertainment."

"I don't know," Rick replied. "Finals are coming up and I need to be
studying."

"I quite understand the large amount of studying a college student must do
to be successful," Cairo said. "However, I also understand the finances of
college students. My employer is prepared to be most generous. Shall we say
$1,500 for one night's work, paid in cash when you arrive at the door?" He
paused. "Plus tips, of course. And the guests tip well."

Rick couldn't quite believe his ears. "And it's just dancing?"

"Assuredly," Cairo replied. "Although my employer would prefer that you
dance completely naked, rather than retaining the flimsy concealment you
are required to employ in this fine establishment."

"I can handle that," Rick said. "I'm pretty near naked with the posing
strap, anyway."

"And my employer would prefer that you begin your performance fully clothed
and gradually disrobe."

"No problem," Rick said. "I've done the male stripper thing before. Will
there be women there?"

"No," Cairo answered. "It will be exclusively male. I assume that is
acceptable."

"Sure." Rick had stripped for women. It paid well, but he was gay and
preferred performing for men.

"Excellent." Cairo handed Rick a slip of paper. "So, I can count on you to
be at this address at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow?" He left swiftly after Rick
agreed.

* * *

Rick arrived at the West Austin address at 7:45 p.m. He stopped at the
booth in front of the steel gate and gave his name to an athletic young man
wearing a stylish quasi-military uniform. "Welcome, Mr. Long." He pressed a
button to open the gate. "Go straight up the drive. Parking is on the
left."

The driveway wound through trees for a quarter mile before the house came
into view. It was a three story art deco palace, perched on the top of a
hill. The parking area was almost full. Rick's 10-year-old Nissan looked
decidedly out of place among the luxury cars. He took a small suitcase out
of the trunk and walked to the front of the house.

A tall, gray-haired man in a tuxedo guarded the front entrance. He was
ruggedly handsome, with short salt-and-pepper hair and a trim athletic
figure. Rick guessed he was in his mid-50s. "Mr. Long, I presume." He spoke
with a distinguished-sounding English accent. When Rick nodded, the butler
continued, "Welcome to the Armitage residence. Mister Cairo will see you in
the sitting room."

The butler gestured toward a door on the left. Before Rick could take a
step, Joel Cairo emerged from the room. "Welcome, Mister Long," he
gushed. "It is so good of you to come. Please walk this way." He spun
around and minced off.

"I can't walk that way," Rick thought as he followed Cairo into the sitting
room.

"Here is your fee." Cairo opened the drawer of a small writing desk and
pulled out an envelope. Rick took it and looked inside. It contained 15
crisp $100 bills.

"Thanks, Mister Cairo." Rick stuffed the envelope into his pocket.

"Some of the guests may wish to fondle you while you are dancing," Cairo
said. "If this attention is unwelcome, simply tell the individual to
desist. He will respect your wishes."

"What if I don't want anybody touching me?"

"Then we will notify the guests that you are to be left alone," Cairo
answered. "Is that your desire? I observed that you allowed some of the bar
patrons to touch you last night."

"I guess it depends on who does the fondling. Is there anything else?"

"You will be dancing for 20 minutes out of each hour, from 9:00 p.m. until
midnight." Cairo pointed to Rick's suitcase. "Is your costume in there?"

"Sure is." He'd actually brought two. Hot cop and lumberjack.

"Excellent," Cairo beamed. "The . . . um . . . 'strip show' . . . will
begin at 9:00 p.m. There will be two other performers. 'Dan Dangler' and
'Roderick Ramm.' Perhaps you are acquainted with them?"

"I know Dan." His real name was "Dan Alexander" and he danced at Harry's
Garage, Bunz--the bar with male strip shows for women only--and several
other clubs. Rick had tricked with him a few times.

"And I've seen the videos from Ram Rod Productions." Rod's videos were on a
high-end streaming service that Rick couldn't afford, but there were
low-res versions all over the free gay porn sites.

"The three of you may take turns dancing," Cairo continued. "But, if you
wish to dance together, that is acceptable." His lips curled into a greasy
smile. "And you may interact with each other . . . and the men in the
audience . . . in any way you desire." His smile widened. "In fact,
Mr. Armitage encourages interaction."

"Uh . . ."

"You do not have to do anything you don't want to do." Cairo took a black
plastic watch out of the drawer, and handed it to Rick. "This is your
ARTwatch. It gives you access to selected parts of the house."

Rick took his own watch off and put it in his pocket, than fastened the new
watch around his wrist. Its top was a black mirror, but when he flipped his
wrist up, it displayed an old-fashioned analog watch face. "I guess I'm
supposed to wear this all the time."

"Yes," Cairo said. "It is waterproof and close to invulnerable." He glanced
at his own watch. It was identical to the one he'd given Rick. "It's 8:00
p.m. You start in an hour." He stood up and started for the door. "I'll
show you to the performers' lounge."

When Rick followed Cairo out of the sitting room, he saw Dan Alexander at
the front door, flirting with the butler. Dan grinned and waved at Rick,
then turned back to the older man and asked, "So, what's the Royal Marines'
version of 'Take it easy, okay?'"

The performers' lounge was a medium-sized room filled with comfortable
modern furniture. Three make-up mirrors were spaced along one wall. Cairo
pulled a curtain aside, revealing several lockers. He pointed to the first
one. "This one is yours." Its front was smooth fine-grained wood, blank
except for the embossed steel letters "ART" and a small square of black
glass.

Cairo pointed to the glass. "Put your thumb there. Then on the ARTwatch."

Rich did and the locker door opened silently. "Only your thumb will open
it," Cairo said.

"Cool." Armitage Research Technologies was a Fortune 25 robotics,
communications, and consumer products company. Its ART products were very
popular, but also extremely expensive. He put the envelope of cash on the
top shelf and pressed a softly-glowing button. The door closed with a soft
click.

"Please make yourself comfortable." Cairo gestured to a small wet bar at
the far end of the room and then bustled out.

The shelf behind the bar held bottles of top shelf liquor. The refrigerator
was stocked with champagne, several brands of beer, and expensive bottled
water. An elaborately-carved mahogany box filled with machine-rolled joints
sat on the counter.

Rick took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and sank into one of
the chairs, facing a giant wall-mounted flatscreen showing pictures of
naked men. This place and the people in it were a bit overwhelming. Still,
a gig was a gig. He'd danced for private parties before, but the audience
had always been women. They'd gotten pretty raunchy, especially after a few
drinks. He wondered what a group of gay men would be like. His cock stirred
at the thought.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite Dick." Dan Alexander waltzed into the room,
followed by Joel Cairo. He was a big black bodybuilder, Rick's age, but
bigger and heavier, with close-cropped hair and a neatly trimmed beard,
wearing tight khaki shorts and an equally tight white tank top that showed
off his muscular body. "How's it hangin', Bro."

Rick stood up and embraced Dan. "Getting' pretty hard, Stud." He kissed
Dan, who kissed him back, using a lot of dirty tongue.

Dan grinned. "It's a lot harder now." He ran his hand over the bulge in
Rick's jeans.

"Yeah. You do that to me."

Cairo cleared his throat. "Mr. Dangler."

Dan patted Rick's ass and then turned to face the older man. "Yes?"

"If I may have your attention for a moment." Cairo went through the
ARTwatch and locker routine with Dan, the looked at his own ARTwatch and
frowned. "Mr. Ramm should be here by now." He shook his head and
sighed. "These Hollywood types."

After Cairo left, Dan took Rick in his arms and kissed him again, long and
hard, leaving both young men with massive erections. "Damn, you feel good,"
Dan said.

"So do you," Rick answered. "It's been too long,"

"Sure has. It's just so hard . . ." Dan ground his crotch bulge into the
bulge in Rick's jeans.

Rick laughed. "WE'RE sure fuckin' hard."

"Yeah," Dan agreed. "You always get me turned on."

"Same here, Stud." Rick looked at the clock on the wall over the makeup
mirrors. It was a big square of fine-grained wood with softly-glowing
modernistic hands and numbers. The embossed steel letters "ART" were set in
one corner. "It's 8:20 p.m." He pointed to the long couch stretched along
one wall. "Plenty of time for a quick roll in the hay."

"It's tempting," Dan said. "But Cairo could come back."

"You think he'd mind?"

"Well, he's sure got a poker up his ass," Dan answered.

"I bet he'd rather have a dick up his butt," Rick said. He and Dan laughed.

"Most likely," Dan agreed. "I think everyone in this house is gay. Sean
sure is."

"The butler?" Rick asked. "He's all right, for an old guy."

Dan nodded. "Sean was a Royal Marine and he is in SHAPE. He could kick both
our butts without breaking a sweat."

"I'd rather have him fuck our asses."

"That could be arranged," Dan said. "In fact, I've made a date with
him. After the gig tonight."

"You slut!" Rick laughed and slapped Dan's muscular butt.

"Use it or lose it, Bro."

"No problem of that with YOU."

"Well . . . Between school and dancing, I don't get as much sex as I'd
like." Dan was an Electrical Engineering major, as well as being active in
the GBT Delta Lambda Phi fraternity. "I told Sean that 'sexy soldier' was
one of my costumes." Dan grinned. "He said he was going to teach me how to
REALLY use a bayonet."

"I'm sure he will. But, that's later. " Rick looked over at the couch and
then up at the clock. "There's still time for that roll in the hay."

"Well . . . maybe we COULD fool around a bit." Dan reached for Rick's
belt. As he was unfastening its buckle, the door opened with a soft click.

Joel Cairo came in, followed by a muscular man in his mid-20s. He had
tangled shoulder-length dark brown hair with blond highlights and a black
mustache and goatee. He was wearing a torn white undershirt and frayed blue
jean cutoffs. "Fuck your schedule," he said, slurring his words
slightly. "I'm here now, aren't I."

"Yes, Mr. Ramm," Cairo answered. "But Mr. Armitage--"

"Fuck Mr. Armitage." Rod Ramm bent Cairo over and humped his butt through
their clothes. "And I probably will, before the night is over."

He reached around the older man's body and groped his crotch. "I'm worth
way more than what your boss is paying me and he knows it. And if he
doesn't, he'll learn fast enough." He pushed Cairo away. "Now, go polish
your knob."

"Just be ready to perform." Cairo minced out.

"Fuckin' little ass-kissin' prick," Rod growled after the door had closed
behind Cairo. "I'm so goddamned tired of these rich assholes and the
self-important turds who work for them."

He seemed to notice Rick and Dan for the first time. "You must be the other
dick dancers."

"Yeah," Dan answered. Rick just nodded. Rod had an impressive bulge in his
tight-fitting cutoffs, but he was a lot shorter than he looked in his
videos.

"Welcome to the big time." Rod looked around the room. "Who do you have to
fuck to get a drink around this place?" He stumbled over to the bar, took a
bottle of Bunnahabhain 25 off the shelf, and splashed the Scotch into an
oversized tumbler, spilling a little on the counter. "Guess this will do."

Rick winced as he watched Rod down half the liquor with one gulp. He'd
worked in a high-end liquor store for a while. That bottle of Scotch cost
$900, which was a month's rent on his one-bedroom apartment. Oh
well. Mr. Armitage could afford it.

Rod reached for the bottle again, but then hesitated. He opened the
mahogany box and frowned. "No coke? What kind of cheap ass place is this?"
He looked at Dan and Rick accusingly. "Did the two of you use up all the
blow?"

Dan just glared back at Rod. "That's the price of getting here late," Rick
said.

Rod balled his hands into fists and took a step forward, then shook his
head and laughed. "Okay, you got me." He took a joint out of the box and
lit it with a crystal lighter. "I'm being a prick. Sorry, but I've had
. . . uh . . ." He took a few deep tokes, drawing the smoke in slowly,
holding it for a long time, and then letting it out gradually. "Let's just
say it's been a rough week." He held the joint out. "Want some?"

Dan hesitated, but then took the joint. "Oh, why not?" Rick had never seen
him smoke pot before. He took a long drag and then passed it to Rick. "It's
a party," Dan said, letting the smoke trickle out of his lungs. "Might as
well get in the spirit."

They passed the joint. Rick poured himself a quarter glass of Bunnahabhain
and sipped it slowly, savoring every expensive drop. Even the rich
peat-heavy fumes were intoxicating.

The clock over the makeup mirrors chimed softly. It was 8:50
p.m. "Showtime," Rick said. "Who goes first?"

"Not me." Rod lit another joint. "I'm the headliner."

Dan shrugged. "I'll do it." He opened his suitcase and took a police
uniform out.

Rick laughed. "You're doing 'hot cop?'"

"Sure. That always gets a good reaction from the ladies. I bet gay men will
like it, too."

"No doubt." Rick opened his suitcase, revealing his own cop outfit. "I
guess I'll do 'sexy lumberjack.'"

"No," Dan said. "Let's dance together. Two cops are better than one."

* * *

Cairo showed up at 8:59 p.m. He led Rick and Dan down a wide utility hall
with a smooth tile floor and bare walls. They stopped at a pair of heavy
wood doors. "This is the party room." He opened one of the doors. "There is
no stage. That will make it easier for you to interact with the audience."

He gave them an oily smile. "The more you interact with the men, the better
your tips will be." The audience members could use their ARTwatches to tip
the dancers. Rick's and Dan's ARTwatches would vibrate every time they
received a tip.

"Okay . . . Stud." Dan put his hand on Cairo's butt and fondled his crack,
making the older man squirm uncomfortably. "We can handle the interaction
stuff." He slapped Cairo's ass and stepped away, then blew Rick a
kiss. "Come on, Bro. It's showtime."

"All right." Rick bent over, bumping his butt into Cairo's crotch, then
straightened up and took Dan's hand. "Let's go interact." They stepped into
a large room illuminated by swirling colored lights and pulsing with dance
music. It had a big dance floor with an elaborate lighting system, a DJ
booth, and a long bar stretching along the far wall.

White lights came up and the music faded when Rick and Dan reached the
middle of the dance floor. The room held at least two dozen men in various
states of dress and undress, from slacks, sports coats, and ties to totally
naked. Many of them were wearing leather.

The crowd cheered and a tall muscular man with a black buzz cut and beard
stubble joined Rick and Dan in the spotlight. He was wearing a black
leather jockstrap, a black leather and chrome chest harness, and heavy
black work boots. Rick recognized him instantly. He was Steve Steele, owner
of Steel Steve's Global Health Club, a very public advocate of LGBTQ
causes, and--more privately--a relentless butt slut who'd entertained half
the muscle men in Austin.

Steve grinned and struck a body-building pose, showing off his bulging
chest, arms, legs, crotch, and super-sculpted ass. He thrust his crotch
forward, displaying the big bulge in his jockstrap.

"Gentlemen!" Steve's booming voice filled the room. "And you guys, too."
The crowd cheered and reached for him. He kissed one guy and said, "Later,
dearie." He patted another man's butt and fondled a stiff dick, then
stepped between Rick and Dan. "Doms and subs! Pitchers and catchers! Big
dogs and little puppies! Lend me your ears!"

"I'll lend you my cock," a big hairy bodybuilder with a heavy beard and
mustache called.

Steve gave the man a thumbs up gesture, then went on. "It gives me a great
boner . . . uh . . . pleasure . . . to introduce . . ." He took Rick's hand
and held it high in the air. "The ever-exciting, ever-hard . . . OFFICER
RICHARD LONG!" He slid his hand down to Rick's butt. "If you think you've
seen long . . . You haven't seen Dick!" The crowd cheered and Rick's
already-swollen cock grew even harder.

"And in this corner . . ." Steve moved over to Dan and ran his hands over
the big bodybuilder's arms and chest. ". . . The cop you most want to meet
in a dark alley . . . OFFICER DAN DANGLE!" He stepped in front of Dan and
bent over, grinding his ass into Dan's bulging crotch. "The hardest man on
the force." The crowd's cheers grew even louder.

Steve straightened up and faced the crowd. "So, bitches. Bend over and give
it up for our hot cops!" The music came up as he sashayed away, waving his
butt suggestively at Dan and Rick.

The first song was uptempo. Rick and Dan gyrated to its pulsating beat
while trading frequent glances. They'd decided to leave the music to the
DJ, but had planned a set of coordinated moves.

They were both wearing black uniform caps, black short-sleeved police
shirts with embroidered badges, black pants, highly-polished black boots,
and shiny black leather belts.

Rick saw Dan unfasten his shirt collar and copied him. The two men danced
through the crowd, unbuttoning their uniform shirts and pulling them open,
exposing their muscular chests. Rick's ARTwatch vibrated briefly. He'd just
received a tip.

"Yeah! Show us your tits!" A shirtless man wearing tight blue jeans put his
hands on Rick's chest and pinched his nipples. "Damn! You are fucking hot!"
He tried to pull away, but Rick caught his hands and held them in
place. The men surrounding him cheered and his ARTwatch buzzed several more
times.

"Tuning in Tokyo," Rick said, reaching out and twisting the man's
nipples. The guy was bald with a hairy chest and a big bulge in his
jeans. He grinned and turned away, then bent over and waved his butt at
Rick.

The buzzing on Rick's wrist was almost continuous as he grabbed the man's
waist to hold him in place and humped his crack. Rick's cock was painfully
stiff as he let the guy go. He took his shirt off and tossed it into the
crowd, getting more cheers.

The lights following Rick and Dan were white, but swirling colors
surrounded them as they danced topless in the middle of the crowd with the
men's hands all over their chests, arms, thighs, butts, and crotches.

Rick pressed his body against Dan's and kissed him. Then, he stepped back
and unfastened the big bodybuilder's belt. The crowd roared its approval as
Rick gripped the waistband of Dan's black tear-away pants and pulled them
off, leaving him dressed in his uniform cap, boots, and a bulging black
leather jockstrap with a shiny chrome zipper running down the front.

Dan struck a pose, with his legs spread and his arms lifted, showing off
his bulging muscles. He grabbed Rick, spun him around, and bent him over,
then pulled his tear-away pants off, revealing his tight-fitting black
briefs.

The music slowed down, turning soft and dreamy. Rick and Dan glided through
the crowd, pausing to let a cluster of men fondle their hard bodies and
then drifting on to the next group. The smells of pot and expensive liquor
filled the air.

"I'm here!" a loud voice called. "Let's get this party started." It was
Rod, standing at the party room's main entrance, holding the bottle of
Bunnahabhain in one hand and a joint in the other, alternating between
swigging Scotch and toking high-powered pot. He was still wearing his torn
white undershirt and frayed blue jean cutoffs.

White light came up around Rod as he stepped onto the dance floor, walking
a little unsteadily. He took a long pull of Bunnahabhain and then dropped
the bottle. An athletic young man wearing a black and white tuxedo thong
and a matching bow tie dashed forward and caught the falling bottle without
spilling a drop.

The music stopped as Steve Steele emerged from a cluster of naked men and
hustled over to Rod. "Guys and horndogs!" he announced. "Aggie Fags and
Faggy Aggies!" He moved behind Rod and bumped his bulging leather jockstrap
into the other man's butt. "He's here! He's queer! And he's ready to get
down and dirty!" The DJ played a drum roll, gradually building in intensity
and ending with a cymbal crash and a burst of electronic noise. "Rod Ramm!"

Rod took a final toke, drawing the joint down to a stub and then tossed it
away. Another Tux Boy in fancy undress--naked except for a tuxedo thong,
bow tie, and shiny black shoes--picked the smoldering roach up and carried
it away.

Steve frowned and whispered something into Rod's ear. Rod just shook his
head stubbornly. Steve shrugged and walked away, looking pissed. He stopped
beside Rick and growled, "He's too fuckin' drunk to dance."

The music came up, loud and insistent. Rod stood still, swaying with the
driving beat. He took a step forward and almost fell over. A Tux Boy
approached him, but he waved the young stud away and looked at the men
surrounding him. "You really wanna watch me DANCE?" He pulled on his white
undershirt, widening the tear and exposing his muscular chest. "Or would
you rather see my cock?"

Several men shouted, "Cock!" Another yelled, "Take it off!"

"All right." Rod unfastened his cutoffs. They fell around his ankles,
freeing his stiff pole. It was a lot longer and thicker than most guys'
tools, with a broad bullet-head, towering above his shaved balls. He
stepped out of the cutoffs and kicked them away. "Who's gonna suck my
dick?"

Rick was tempted, even though Rod had been a serious . . . dick . . . to
him, Dan, and everyone else in sight. There was something about the man's
massive . . . rod . . . that was almost irresistible. He looked over at
Dan, who was staring at the gay porn star with open lust.

"I'll do it." A muscular man--all the men in the audience seemed to be
muscular--with a shaved head and bushy beard stepped up and wrapped his
hand around Rod's hard-on. He was wearing a black leather jockstrap
fastened to a chest harness and the standard heavy black boots.

"So you're gonna suck my cock?" Rod asked. The man nodded and Rod pushed
him to his knees. "Then, get on with it." The man bobbed over Rod's stiff
pole while kneading his balls.

"Billy Butt," Steve Steele said. He was still standing beside Rick. "What a
surprise."

"You know him?" Rick asked.

"Honey, I know EVERYBODY." Steve patted Rick's butt. "Even you."

"But, we've never met," Rick protested.

"I've seen you dance," Steve answered. "You've got a real talent." He ran a
slow finger along Rick's crack.

"Well . . ." Rick's cock, already long and heavy from the excitement of
dancing nearly naked for a roomful of lustful men, hardened rapidly,
stretching his tight briefs.

"You like that." Steve ground his leather-clad crotch into Rick's butt
crack and reached around to fondle his stiff dick.

"Of course." Now, Rick's cock was rock-hard, standing straight up with
precum leaking from its tip and soaking his briefs.

"Are you a top or a bottom?" Steve asked.

"Yes."

Steve laughed. "Good. I usually like it up the butt, but I want your sexy
ass."

"That'd be all right," Rick answered. "But, I want to fuck you too."

"Oh, you will." Steve patted Rick's butt and then stepped away. He did
something with his ARTwatch and Rick's watch vibrated with a different
pattern. "I just gave you my contact information. We'll get together soon."

"Well . . . okay." Rick was disappointed.

"I'd pull your briefs down and take you right here on the dance floor with
the whole crowd watching," Steve said. "But I don't want to be greedy. All
these guys want you." He gave Rick a hot dirty kiss and then disappeared
into the crowd.

Dan pushed his way through the men to Rick. "Yo, Bro." He looked down at
the big tent in Rick's briefs and grinned. "How's it hanging?"

Rick laughed. "It's not hanging at all, Stud. It's sticking straight up."

"I'm just as hard," Dan said. "It just doesn't show as much with this
leather jockstrap."

"You could take it off." Rick reached for the zipper.

Dan pushed Rick's hand away. "When the time is right, Bro." He stepped
behind Rick and humped his butt while stroking his swollen pole.

Rick pushed back against Dan's leather-clad crotch bulge. He was usually a
top, but he couldn't get enough of the big black man's hard cock. "The time
is right now."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Fuck me." Rick had never had sex in front of an audience, but the
idea was incredibly arousing.

"Well . . . If you're sure."

Ten feet away, Rod was holding Billy Butt's head motionless, roughly
fucking his face while a dozen men watched. "Jesus! That's good!" He pushed
Billy away. "Who's next?"

"Me." A man with a buzz cut and a closely-trimmed beard, naked except for
heavy black boots and a cock ring fastened to a black leather and chrome
harness, took Billy's place. His dick was enormous, with a wide plow-shaped
head. He stroked Rod's stiff shaft while licking and sucking his balls.

"Ready to get fucked?" Dan humped Rick's butt crack while reaching around
to stroke his hard cock.

"Oh yeah!" Rick's hands were on the waistband of his briefs when his
ARTwatch chimed and flashed insistently. Rick flipped it up and letters
streamed across its black face. "Cops! Arrest that man."

Dan was looking at his own ARTwatch. "Back to work, Bro."

"Okay," Rick said. "You can fuck my ass later." He waved his butt at Dan
suggestively.

A police siren split the air and strobing hot red and blue lights followed
Rick and Dan as they approached Rod. "Don't move," the DJ's distorted voice
announced as they grabbed Rod's arms and pulled him away from the buzz cut
man. "You're under arrest for public lewdness."

The flashing colored lights on Rick, Dan, and Rod turned white again. The
DJ played "Bad Boys" as a pair of Tux Boys came through the service door,
carrying a heavy steel sawhorse. It was painted black, with padding on the
top and leather cuffs attached to its legs. They set it down in the middle
of the dance floor and walked away.

"Okay, punk," Dan said. "Assume the position." He and Rick bent Rod over
the sawhorse and fastened the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, leaving
him immobilized with his butt exposed and vulnerable.

"What are you going to do?" Rod sounded frightened, but he was an
uncommonly good actor. He'd started out doing "naive gay boy next door"
parts, but his last film, "Master / Slave," had won two "Kinky Video"
awards: for best film and best actor. He'd played a sexily scary dom with
one man and a hot initially-reluctant sub with another guy.

"Whatever we want," Dan growled. He raised his voice. "Is there a paddle in
this joint?" A Tux Boy appeared in seconds, carrying a black leather
paddle. He handed it to Dan and walked away while the men in the audience
gathered around the bench.

Dan held the paddle up. Its business end was two strips of sewn-together
black leather, 15 inches long and three inches wide, with a tapered riveted
handle. He slapped it against the palm of his hand. "This will do fine."

He stepped behind Rod and slapped the paddle against his bare buttocks. It
made a loud crack and its curved end left a perfect half-moon mark on his
ass. Rod screamed and tried to pull away, but the bench held him firmly in
place. "Jesus!" he gasped. "That hurts!" His cock had grown even harder.

"Look." Dan reached between Rod's spread legs and caressed his stiff
pole. "He's getting off on it."

"No!" Rod squirmed and squealed as Dan paddled his ass, turning his
buttocks bright red with a series of smooth measured strokes.

"Oh yes," Dan said. "Take it boy." Rick was surprised and a little scared
by Dan's obvious excitement. He'd never seen this side of his big black
fuck buddy. "If you do the crime, you gotta do the time."

"God, you've got a sexy ass." Dan fondled Rod's hot pink butt cheeks, then
ran a finger up and down his crack, teasing his little puckered
hole. "Perfect for fucking." He slipped his index finger into his mouth,
coating it with spit, then pressed it into Rod's anus.

"Oh, Jesus!" Rod moaned, pushing his butt back to take more of Dan's
finger.

"You like that?" Dan twisted his finger inside Rod's butthole.

"Fuck yeah!"

"Sir!" Dan snapped.

"Fuck yeah, SIR!" Rod gasped. "I really like that!"

"You'll like a big fat black cock up your bright red ass even more," Dan
growled. "Won't you . . . Boy?"

"Oh yes, Sir! Please slide your big fat black cock up my ass! Fuck the hell
out of me."

The men in the audience were standing in a rough circle around the bench
with their cocks out. Most of them were jacking off. Several were
masturbating each other. "Yeah!" one shouted. "Fuck his ass!"

The crowd chanted, "Fuck his ass! Fuck his ass! Fuck his ass!" A Tux Boy
magically appeared, handed a big squeeze bottle of lubricant to Dan, and
vanished again.

Dan lubricated his index finger and slid it up Rod's ass. It went in easily
and Dan worked it in and out, twisting his wrist to distribute the lube
evenly. He pulled his index finger out, then smeared lubricant on his index
and middle fingers and pressed both fingers into Rod's puckered hole.

"Oh Jesus!" Rod gasped. His stiff cock jerked in time with Dan's rough
finger thrusts. "That feels good!"

"Fuck his ass!" The crowd's chanting grew even louder. "Fuck his ass!"

"Yeah!" Rod said. "Do it now!"

"Oh-Kay!" Dan turned to face the crowd and pulled the zipper on his bulging
leather jockstrap down, freeing his big hard cock. The men surrounding him
gasped at the sight of his giant mahogany pole with a broad plow-shaped
head. He turned slowly, giving all the men a good look at his mammoth
erection, then coated his stiff pole with lube, gripped its rigid shaft,
and guided its head into Rod's hole.

"Fuckin' Jesus!" Rod groaned as Dan's cock-head stretched his
asshole. "That's BIG!"

"Too big for you?" Dan pushed in deeper.

"Oh hell no!" Rod answered. "Keep going. Just take it--" He screamed as
Dan's flaring head slipped through his anal ring and his long thick rod
slid home. "Oh yeah," he gasped. "That's . . . Damn!"

Dan drew back slowly and then pressed back inside. "You've got a fucking
tight ass."

"Your big fat black cock feels great," Rod said. "Now, fuck me good and
hard. I'm ready for you."

"All right." Dan pulled completely out and then pushed his cock-head back
through Rod's anal ring. "I'm gonna pound your hot sweet asshole." He
teased Rod's ass mouth with a few more shallow strokes, then fucked him
hard, pulling out and then slamming home, bouncing his swinging balls
against Rod's butt cheeks.

"Oh yeah!" Rod gasped. "Hammer my ass!" He rocked his butt back to meet
Dan's driving cock.

"Take it, Boy!" Dan growled. "Take my big hard dick."

"Man!" Rod groaned. "That's so good."

Dan slammed Rod's butt harder and faster. "I've got a big hot load for
you."

"Shoot it!" Rod cried.

"Here it comes." Dan rammed Rod's ass over and over, pulling almost out and
then driving home, slamming his pelvis against the bound man's muscular
buttocks.

"God damn!" Rod gasped. "Your hot cum . . . Feels so good!"

"You've got a fucking great ass." Dan pulled his stiff pole out of Rod's
butthole. His cock gleamed with lube and cum. He patted Rod's butt, then
stepped away from the bench and turned to face the crowd. "Who's next?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Check out my novel "Jack Hammer: King's Ransom," a gay romantic thriller.
Alex King has a promising life, with rich parents, an outstanding college
career, and a sexy new boyfriend. That's all shattered when a masked gunman
kidnaps Alex and murders his boyfriend. Alex's world suddenly narrows to a
basement cell and repeated rapes by a vindictive killer. His only hope is
to make his jailer--the killer's straight son--fall in love with him. Go to
kenjamesfiction.com for more information.

* * * * * * * * * *

Visit kenjamesfiction.com for ALL my free stories and extended samples from
my books.

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Copyright © 2019 by Ken James

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and
incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales,
organizations, or events is entirely coincidental.

Website: kenjamesfiction.com
Email: ken@kenjamesfiction.com
Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/author/kenjames
Smashwords Author Page: www.smashwords.com/profile/view/KenJamesFiction

Please contact me. I love getting feedback and reply to every message.

Thanks to Wayde, my greatest fan, best friend, and husband, for all his
love, enthusiasm, and support.

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