Joe looked down at me with trust and lust in his eyes. “Let’s do it!”
I rose up slowly, and he backed up and off me. I reached down and grasped his fully-hard prick and stroked it a few times. Then I arranged us into the 69 position and we began to lavish attention on each other’s dicks.
After a few minutes of this, I scooted down further and put my head between Joe’s legs. He couldn’t reach my cock any longer, so he relaxed and waited to see what I was going to do.
I licked the bottoms of his balls and pulled each into my mouth, one at a time. He made sounds of pleasure as I did this. Then I licked on down and under, making contact with the bottom of his ass-crack. Joe moved slightly, lifting one leg and making it easier for me to access his entire butt.
I ran my tongue up to the base of his spine, then back down again, wetting everything. Then I moved back up to the object of my desire—his wrinkled pucker. As soon as my tongue made contact, he jumped slightly and drew in his breath quickly. I remembered the first time anyone did that to me, and I knew what a mixture of pleasure and fear it engendered.
I licked and slurped all around his hole and then lightly pressed my tongue against it. I felt Joe shiver with delight. I removed my tongue, licked my middle finger, and pressed on the soft opening. Joe pushed back against my finger, easing it inside himself.
“How’s that?” I inquired.
“Fucking good! Keep doing it!”
I extended my finger inside him, passing the second sphincter and entering the warm cavity. I moved it around gently, exploring and letting Joe feel what it was like to have a foreign object inside his body. I began to slide it in and out, finger-fucking him first slowly, then faster.
“Mmm.” He groaned sensually.
I then withdrew my middle finger and wet both it and my index finger. This time, two fingers introduced themselves into Joe’s asshole. He gave a little moan of pain and I stopped with both deep inside him.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. I like it, but it hurts a little.”
“That sounds about right.”
Soon, I removed my hand and replaced it with three fingers, which I eased in. Joe held his breath but made no sound. I leaned in and kissed his ass cheek.
“You OK, lover-boy?”
I gave his ass a good workout with the three fingers. When he seemed thoroughly loosened up, I pulled them out. “You ready for this?” I asked.
“Give it to me.”
I helped him get up onto his knees. “Arch your back,” I instructed.
When he did that I got up on my knees and moved in close to his rear end. I took my cock and slapped it several times on his cheeks to get it hard enough to enter. I leaned over and spit my saliva onto my cock and then smeared it up and down his crack and around his willing hole.
Then I pressed the head of my dick against his opening. The preparatory massage and penetration had done their work. With almost no effort the head of my cock slipped past one, then two rings of muscle and stopped at the threshold of his rectum.
“Still OK?” I asked caringly.
“Yeah. It hurts a little, but I feel like I want it in me—all the way.”
Without a word, I pressed my belly toward his buttocks, and my dick went in as far as it would go. I stopped.
“How is it now?”
“Unh. I’m not so sure now.”
“Squeeze your ass muscles like you’re taking a shit. Try to push me out. That should relax them around my dick and make it fit just right.”
I felt Joe follow my instructions. “Relax, and don’t forget to breathe!”
He chuckled a little, and I felt his ass squeeze my cock. I gave him a minute or so, and then slowly began to pull back. About half-way out, I stopped and then gently pushed all the way back in. Joe looked up at me and smiled contentedly.
“I like that,” he cooed. I leaned down and kissed him.
Soon, I began to increase the speed of my fucking and also draw out further and sometimes push back in only part-way. I wanted him to get the experience the full range of feelings and to reassure him that I wasn’t going to hurt him.
To my pleasant surprise, Joe began to move his body forward and back, matching my plunging motions. He was breathing normally, so I asked him, “Is this OK with you? Are you getting into it?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he said. “I never knew it was gonna feel this good.”
After a brief pause, Joe said, “I know I ripped your ass open the first time, so why don’t you fuck me hard, so I’ll know what that feels like, too.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can fucking take it. Don’t be a wimp!”
With that challenge, I was more than ready to oblige Joe. I began increasing the speed and depth of my thrusts until I was approximating the pounding that he gave me. He had lowered his head and was simply enjoying the ass-fucking that I was giving him.
I didn’t want to overdo it, so I slowed down after a minute or two and then completely stopped moving, my cock resting about half-way in his hole. I reached down under his belly and was surprised and delighted to feel that his cock was rock solid. That was a sign that he was turned on by being fucked, and it boded well for future sessions when we would surely takes turns poking each other.
“You gonna cum this time?” Joe asked.
“If you want me to.”
“Go ahead. Cum inside me.”
“Not without a rubber.” He looked disappointed, but I wasn’t going to change my mind.
It didn’t take me more than ten strokes to reach climax. As my balls emptied onto Joe’s back, he moaned softly, and I knew that he had jacked himself off onto the sand beneath us.
As he had done the day before, I leaned forward and rested my sweaty body on his back. I nuzzled the back of his neck and tweaked his nipples as we both came down from the intense high of release.
After a minute or so, we both rolled onto our backs. Looking up at the moon and stars, I said softly, “That was fucking fantastic! I hope it didn’t hurt too much. Did you enjoy it?”
Before Joe could answer, a gruff voice said loudly, “What the fuck are you two faggots doin’ there?” A flashlight blinded us, as we scrambled to pull our shorts on.
“Stand up and get your hands in the air!” the voice commanded.
“We aren’t doing anything, sir.” I protested, trying to sound like it was the truth. I didn’t know how much he had seen or heard.
“Bullshit. I know what you queers do down here.” He lowered the flashlight and shone it all around us, noticing our shirts and sandals on the sand.
“We weren’t doing anything, sir.” I repeated.
“Then why the fuck are you both fucking bare-ass naked?” he demanded.
I was beginning to suspect that this was not a policeman or security guard.
“We were just skinny-dipping and then we were looking at the stars,” I lied, testing how far I could get with this guy.
“Bullshit,” he said again, forcefully. “I know what your kind do down here on this beach.”
“Oh, no, sir, we weren’t doing that.” Joe spoke for the first time. I knew he had taken the conversation in the wrong direction. Up until now, we had not actually been accused of anything specific.
“Doing what? What the fuck are you talking about, exactly?”
I intervened, “Whatever you think we were doing, you’re wrong. We were just swimming and relaxing on the sand. We thought because it was pitch-dark we didn’t need to put our suits back on.”
“You expect me to believe that fucking shit, asshole?” Now I knew this couldn’t be a cop, or at least not one like the ones I had known in Palo Alto.
“It’s the truth, sir,” I said as politely and meekly as possible.
“Get over here,” the threatening voice said. We got to our feet and crossed the six feet to where the beam of the flashlight was coming from. Suddenly, the light was turned off, and I felt rough hands pushing me to my knees.
“You like to suck cock, don’t you, faggot?” There was an urgency of desire in his voice now.
“Not me, sir,” I insisted.
“Sure you do.” I felt something long and hard being pressed against my face. “You want to suck this one, don’t you?”
I started to say no, but as soon as I opened my mouth, his dick was forcing its way in and deep into my throat. I gagged and choked, but he had his hand behind my head and was forcing me to take the cock. It tasted like shit, and I wondered if he had been on the beach like us, fucking some poor slob.
He began thrusting roughly. To my surprise, he came in thirty seconds. I guess premature ejaculation was a side effect of the thrill he was getting abusing me like this.
As I sputtered and choked on his filthy jizz, he was suddenly no longer there in front of me. I heard a loud thud, then the sound of breath being knocked out, and then another thud as the son of a bitch hit the ground.
I could now see fairly well in the bright moonlight, and as I looked, Joe was straddling the bully and pounding his face with punches. I jumped to my feet. “Forget him. Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
Reluctantly, Joe got to his feet, then kicked the guy in the side. I had gathered up our shirts and sandals, and I pulled Joe toward the way that led back to hotel row.
“Is he all right?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“I hope not. I wanted to kill the motherfucker!” Joe replied, breathing hard.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. We would be in a shitload of trouble if you had.”
We half-ran down the sandy beach, stumbling occasionally until we reached the outer limits of the bright hotel lights. We stopped, put on shirts and sandals, brushed each other off, and caught our breath.
“I don’t think he followed us.” I said half-convinced.
“I don’t think the asshole could even stand up.” Joe replied.
I looked at him for the first time since the flashlight hit our eyes. He looked OK, but a closer inspection showed that his knuckles were bloodied.
“You’d better put your hands in your pockets until we can get back to my room and clean you up.”
“What about you?” Joe asked with care and concern. “Did he hurt you?”
“Only my pride.”
“But he. . . uh. . . made you blow him, didn’t he?”
“Not really. I don’t know what he was trying to do, but it ended when you decked him.” I saw no reason to tell Joe anything he hadn’t seen for himself.
“Who the fuck was that?” Joe asked with disdain.
“Well, at first, I thought it was a cop or a security guard.”
“But I think it was really just some asshole out to make trouble and hurt people.”
“By ‘people’ you mean queers. . . like us.”
“I’m not at all sure he really knew. I think he was just an asshole bully who would have done the same thing to any guy or guys he could catch on the beach.”
We made our way, more or less with dignity, back to the Del Coronado and up to my suite. We quickly stripped and jumped into the hottest shower we could stand. As the water ran over me, I silently cried hot tears, hoping Joe wouldn’t notice.
We dried off and then fell onto my bed, clinging to each other for comfort and security. I think we fell asleep, but a short while later, we both jolted awake, probably to the same nightmare replay of the fracas on the beach.
“I’m sure glad you were there, Joe.” I told him with a kiss. Then, “By the way, where did you learn to kick ass like that?”
“Boxing in school. I was damn good at it, too.”
“Well, all I know is I’m fucking glad you were there to save my pansy ass.”
“Don’t say that. He had the advantage—he must have weighed over two hundred and he was pushing you down pretty hard.”
I smiled and pulled Joe to me. We wrestled affectionately, and I ended up on my side with my back toward Joe. I reached behind me and felt his hardness, which I then guided toward my waiting hole.
Joe quickly took the condom I handed him and began to fuck me slowly and gently, as I had done with him. When he sensed that I was ready, he increased the tempo and span of his thrusts, until he was plowing into me with abandon. This time, in spite of his fevered plunges, I relaxed and let him do as much and as hard as he needed to. I knew that he was letting go of the tension and fear and hurt over what that asshole on the beach had done to us. I let him go on and on, as long as he needed to.
Finally, he grasped me tightly with both arms, pressed deep into my gut, and released load after load of cum into me. Breathing heavily, he continued to pull me tightly to him, and I suddenly realized that he was shaking. His grip on me was so strong I couldn’t move, so I simply said, “You all right, buddy?”
Through his tears, Joe whimpered, “I’m so sorry he did that to you, Bruce. I wish I had killed the motherfucker!”
I gently pried Joe’s arms away from around me and turned to look at him. His face was red and raw with crying and the bed below his head was soaking wet. Apparently, he had been sobbing while he was fucking me.
“You didn’t let him do anything, and neither did I, Joe. He took advantage of us, blinding us with that goddamn flashlight and then tried to intimidate us with his shouting and bullying.” I took a breath. “You did the right thing, beating the shit out of him like that. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t acted when you did.”
“I know, but. . .”
“But nothing. You saved me. You’re my hero, my man, my lover.” With that, I moved in close and kissed his tears.
Joe shook a little longer, but his tears stopped and I sensed that the shock was wearing off. After a while, we got up and went into the kitchen. I poured a glass of Chablis and handed Joe a beer.
“I fucking need something stronger than this!” he said.
Nodding, I led the way out onto my balcony. When we were seated in the chairs, he pulled out the baggie of grass and the pipe.
“We can probably get away with just one before somebody smells the shit and figures out where it’s coming from. . .” I opined.
“Then I guess one will have to do it,” Joe replied.
We shared the pipe in silence, drawing the intoxicating smoke deep into our lungs. The pipe was out and we were just chilling, when I heard a nearby sliding door open and saw a shadow appear on a balcony four doors down from us.
“Don’t fucking move,” Joe whispered. I remained frozen as the person—I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman—on the distant balcony appeared to look around in the dark. Seeing nothing, he or she went inside and closed the door, and Joe and I jumped up and ran indoors, locking the slider behind us.
We spent the night together, taking turns sucking and fucking each other until first light. We didn’t get creative—it was more important just to share each other’s bodies and offer comfort and caring in the face of the violence we had just been through.
In the morning, we went down to breakfast together, then changed into our swimsuits and met again beside the pool.
Around noon, a shadow loomed over us, and we looked up startled. I immediately feared that the goon from the night before had somehow found us and gained entrance to the private pool area.
“So, who’s your new friend?” a gruff masculine voice demanded.
Joe looked up, startled. “Oh, hi, Dad. This is Bruce. I just met him this morning. He’s from Stanford.”
The older man smiled. Apparently, my credentials were sufficient for him to approve my being in proximity to his precious little boy (who had been having sex with me for the past several days).
Mr. Patrick shook my hand, made small talk for a minute or two, and then said, “Time to pack up, Joe. We’re heading up the coast to Malibu this afternoon.”
“OK, Dad. I’ll be right up.” His father looked at him strangely, but shrugged and left us on the pool deck.
“I can’t go with them,” Joe began.
“Yes, you can. And you have to.” I said firmly. “I’ll only be here another day or two, and then I have to get my ass up to Seattle and go to work. We both have our lives to live, and what we’ve been doing has been a great escape, but we knew it wouldn’t last.”
“Can I at least know where you are, in case I can get away or something?”
“Of course. I’ll send you an email with all the details.”