"Ok, we'll meet up with you guys at Inez's," Chris Larabee called to the departing members of Team 7. "We're just going to make another sweep of the place, shouldn't take too long." He pushed the door open and entered the store. A small bell tinkled overhead as the door nudged it.
"You have to hand it to the owners, Vin, this was a pretty ingenious place to store weapons. I mean how often is an alternate lifestyle adult store checked out by cops?"
"Gay porno shop, ya mean," Vin snorted. "Alternate lifestyle, huh." Vin Tanner walked up and down the aisles idly glancing at the rows of gay porn tapes. "Yeah, I can't see any cops wandering in here, they'd be too afraid of being seen." Vin ran his finger along the spines of the boxes as he walked down the aisle, the scuffed, warped wooden floorboards creaking under his boots.
"Smells kinda ripe in here," Chris sniffed. "Reminds me of my high school locker room." Chris walked around the small store, his hands crossed over his chest, glancing at the racks of paperbacks and magazines along the side walls of the store. "Yup, jockstraps, that's what it smells like, sweaty jockstraps."
"Thanks for the visual, Chris. I didn't hang out with the jocks much in school. Least now I know what I missed," Vin said inhaling deeply. "Hmmmm, nice."
"You making fun of the best years of my life?," Chris said, a smile in his voice.
"Nah, not me. Hey, we about done here? Why'd ya wanna stay behind , anyway, Chris? You know as well as I do there ain't no more guns hidden here." Vin stood with his hands jammed in the pockets of his black ATF jacket.
"Thought we could pick out a movie or two for this weekend. Ever see one of these gay porn videos?", Chris began looking at the boxes, once in a while pulling out one and reading the title. "California Hot Bods," "All Male Ass Attack.'' Hey, Vin, you believe these titles?," Chris raised his eyebrows as his eye caught the cover of one box in particular.
"No, and we don't need any porn to get us horny, Chris. At least I don't. And I don't think you do either," Vin said primly, his voice rising.
"Hey, look at this one, Vin. This guy looks like..."
"Chris, c'mon, I'm starvin' and I have to take a leak," the impatience in Vin's voice evident.
"In the back, through the curtain, bathroom," Chris murmured as he nodded his head in the direction without taking his eyes off the tape in his hand. He reached inside his black leather jacket for his reading glasses. "The Hung and the Restless," Chris snorted as he read off the box. 'They were young and hung and desperate for love.' "Yeah, right, "love," that's what they were desperate for. I don't think so."
Chris felt a sudden twinge in his groin, his black denims growing uncomfortably tight, as he scanned the video in his hand. What was it about this video that was turning him on, he mused. The naked young man on the front of the box was bent at the waist, his hands on his knees, his long, wavy light- brown hair partially obscuring his face. His partner, a dark-haired man standing behind him, was gripping the hips of the brown-haired man, his cock obviously inside him, a look of ecstasy on his face. 'Yup, I know the feeling, bud,' Chris grinned to himself.
"Hey, Vin, " Chris yelled to the back of the store, "you have a twin brother in the porn business? The guy I'm holding in my hand is your spitting image."
"You're holdin' a guy in your hands...I'm jealous. Oh, and yeah, that would be Randy Andy, the black sheep of the family. You can't see me but I'm hangin' my head in shame Chris. The secret is out," Vin deadpanned from the rear of the store.
"Nah, says here the star is Dallas Rider. Must just be a younger cousin of yours," Chris called out, unable to take his eyes off the video.
Vin had already parted the dingy threadbare curtain when he heard Chris's comment about the video. He saw a row of rooms, like the dressing rooms in a department store, and he stepped into the first booth he saw looking for the urinal that wasn't there. If this wasn't the restroom what the hell was this booth for, Vin wondered. As he turned to leave he noticed the wall. His eyebrows shot up. 'What the hell,' he muttered.
"Chris, c'mere," Vin shouted. "Got somethin' for ya." Vin tried to keep the glee out of his voice.
He heard Chris making his way to the back of the store, the floorboards groaning under his weight.
"Not in here, go into the booth next to me."
Chris stepped into the small booth and laughed appreciatively. "Well, glory halellujah," Chris said as he sank to his knees and feasted on the site of 8" of glorious cock poking out of the small hole in the wall. "Hello, there big boy, come here often?," Chris's green eyes gleamed with desire. He started to gently stroke Vin's cock. "Hell, Vin, now I know why they call it a "glory hole." You are indeed a glorious site to behold."
Chris licked his lips in anticipation of the meal to come. He was so mesmerized by the site before him he wasn't even disgusted by the sticky floor underneath him. Had he realized why the floor was so tacky-sticky he probably would have thought twice about kneeling on it. But that minor consideration paled before the beauty of the site before him. And beautiful it was. Vin's cock was the most perfect thing he had ever seen, every inch of him a work of art and Chris was a connoisseur when it came to art this fine. He knelt in awe. He always did. He never tired of seeing Vin naked.
Chris opened his mouth and drank him in slowly, as luxuriantly as if he was partaking of a fine, rare wine.
"Oh, God," Vin begged from the other side of the wall. "Oh, yeah, Chris, suck me."
The steel of his prick, the tang of his musk, the taste of him. Vin's cock was achingly erect, his balls throbbing as Chris sucked him deep.
Vin's smouldering blue eyes were glued to the wall and he braced himself against it as he felt himself coming. He gasped in sudden horror as he felt the exquisite pleasure thrumming through his cock turn to excruciating pain. It felt like his cock was being squeezed in a vise. Vin slammed the wall in desperation.
"Stop it, Chris, please stop," Vin cried.
"Mmmm?" Chris pulled his mouth off the slick, throbbing shaft. "What? You're almost there," Chris said huskily, thinking Vin's cries were ones of passion. He quickly engulfed Vin's engorged member once more and continued his torment.
Tears streamed down Vin's face as he pounded the wall in frustration. "Shit, fuck, piss, Larabee, stop it! I mean it, you're killing me!," Vin yelled.
Chris couldn't believe how turned on Vin was by being blown through the glory hole. The harder he sucked the louder Vin screamed. In fact, Chris had never heard Vin this vocal or passionate before. Chris laughed, his mouth filled with Vin, delighting in his ability to drive his handsome young lover to distraction. He slid his mouth off Vin's rock hard glistening cock, the resulting sound a satisfying slurp. He wrapped his hand around the pulsating shaft as Vin climaxed.
"Ahh, ah, ah, fuck, Chris, I'm coming!" Vin's voice was a combination sob and scream.
Chris's hand filled with thick, hot liquid as Vin's cock spasmed its release.
When Vin could speak again his voice was hoarse with pain.
"God, Chris, my dick.....it feels like it's stuck in a rat trap or bear trap or somethin'---like it's bein' torn off," Vin moaned. "Am I bleeding much?"
"Christ, Vin, I'm sorry. I thought you were screaming from, you know, getting off. The light in here is pretty dim but I don't see any blood. Shit, pard, I didn't mean to hurt you. Your dick is red as hell at the base, rubbed raw." Chris continued, wincing at the sight. "Vin, look to your right, further down the wall, you see that? A hole a good 5" wide. Room enough for both your dick and your balls. Why'd you stick your dick into this small hole instead?"
"I dunno. Seemed a good idea at the time," Vin said morosely. "Aw, Chris, it hurts so bad."
"Vin, you're still hard as a rock and you're turning purple---that can't be good. You know what I'm thinking, pard? This is just a "message hole"-for passing phone numbers and the like, business cards, whatever. Damn Vin, get soft will you? The guys are liable to come back here if we don't show up at the bar soon," Chris said with rising impatience.
Vin rolled his eyes, exasperation in his voice. "What do ya think I'm tryin' to do? Gettin' your hand off my cock would be a good start, Larabee."
"Vin, concentrate, I mean relax, take some deep breaths, visualize something---non-sexy. Lepers!," Chris exclaimed.
Vin sighed. He banged his forehead on the wall. 'Lepers, he says.' Vin would have laughed if it didn't hurt so damn much. He ran his hands over his face swiping away the tears and sweat and dried his runny nose on his jacket sleeve. Vin closed his red-rimmed blue eyes and braced his forearm against the wall and rested his forehead on his arm. He pictured not lepers but his Team 7 co-workers, Chris excepted of course. One-by-one as their faces drifted in front of him Vin felt himself softening. For the first time that afternoon he allowed himself a small smile.
"Vin, what happened? You were doing fine, dammit, you're hard again!"
"J.D.," Vin groaned. "I flashed on him wearing those tight cutoffs, barechested, washing my jeep. Shit, the kid's hot, Chris," Vin said with a shrug.
Chris grinned. "Yeah, well, when you're right, you're right. So, it's back to the lepers and naked old wrinkled grandmas and dead bunnies."
Vin snorted a laugh. 'Kay, bare naked ladies, headless bunnies, Mr. Burns..."
"Who's he?"
"Homer's boss, 'The Simpsons.'"
"I think that did it, Vin. I'm going to wrap my hands around you and help ease you out now."
Vin's cock softened enough to squeeze through the small message hole, formerly known as the glory hole. He held his breath as he pulled back slowly and gently circled his fingers around the base of his cock as it slipped out of the wall.
Vin breathed out loudly and then winced as he cradled his injured organ. He shuffled over to the small wooden bench on the back wall of the booth, his jeans puddled around his boots and slowly sat down.
In the adjoining booth, Chris struggled up slowly, his knees protesting the change in position. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he whispered to himself. He joined Vin on the bench in Vin's booth.
Chris stared down at Vin's bruised and abused cock. A low whistle escaped his lips. "Could have been worse, cowboy, your balls could have been stuck, too."
"Yeah, I'm a lucky bastard all right," Vin drawled. "Sorry fella," Vin said in an apparent apology to his cock. He pushed some damp wayward strands of hair off his sweaty forehead.
"Looks like you'll be out of commission this weekend, pard. Some Lanacaine or Cortaid on it should help, maybe an ice pack. You'll be good as new by Monday I bet," Chris said optimistically. "C'mon old man," Chris muttered, taking Vin's arm and pulling him up. "Let's get you to the bar for some liquid anesthetic."
"You ever take that leak, Vin?" Chris asked, his blond eyebrows raised.
"Nope. And I ain't peein' again or jerkin' off anymore and you stay away from me Chris Larabee, don't you go gettin' me riled up the next few days. It's watchin' women's golf for me this weekend."
Vin reached down and tugged up his jeans. "Looks like I picked a bad day not to wear underwear," Vin grimaced as he struggled to ease his rough jeans over his still throbbing cock then carefully zipped his fly.
"Looks like you picked a bad day to wear tight jeans, too," Chris quipped.
The two men walked slowly out of the booth and down the main aisle of the store. Vin was especially careful to walk rather gingerly with his legs slightly apart. Chris's knee joints remained stiff and achy. They really should think about installing rubber matting on the floor of these booths, Chris thought idly.
"Remind me not to stick my dick into any small holes in the future."
Chris and Vin stopped dead in their tracks and burst out laughing. Chris turned to Vin and lightly kissed him on his lips. "I love you, Vin." He ruffled the younger man's hair.
"Go ahead and take some handjob material, Chris. Some magazines or tapes. I won't feel so guilty if I know you're gettin' some."
"Take the situation in hand, as it were, huh,?" Chris laughed.
And as he passed by the rack of tapes he had studied earlier Chris picked out "The Hung and the Restless" and slipped it into his jacket pocket. If he couldn't have Vin this weekend Chris would have to be content with Dallas Rider. A poor substitute but there was something about the actor on the cover that made his heart beat faster and his dick grow harder. Maybe the weekend wouldn't be a total washout after all.
THE END