Bottom Out

I dropped Will off at the terminal around six. His flight wasn’t scheduled for another hour, but he had decided to get to the airport early, and get some reports into his hard drive in the first class lounge. The drive from Chelsea to LaGuardia had been silent torture. The only sound was the throaty growl of the Jaguar’s big eight-cylinder engine as we roared through the Midtown Tunnel and into Queens. It was always the same argument. Our relationship for the last two years has been primarily built on strong physical attraction, but our sexual needs were often at odds.

We were both tops. Our sex was always hot, physical, and athletic, but neither of us would submit ultimately to the other. As often as I tried, he simply would not surrender his temptingly tight little butt to me. I loved to try, and the struggle was often the sexiest part of our lovemaking. Will was a powerfully built man. He had played pro baseball in the early nineties, and had the sturdy shoulders and large biceps of a power hitter. A knee injury ended his career, or he would probably still be playing today. 

Likewise, Will would try to get me underneath him all the time. I would let him put a finger or two into my tight asshole, but when that “big ten” came knocking at my back door, I’d buck him off me like a skittish bronco. This business trip would have him out of town for a week, and our goodbye sex that afternoon was the last straw. I refused to roll over and get fucked, and Will exploded. Neither of us dealt well with rejection. That’s what comes from over developed egos. 

“You just don’t give a damn about what I need, do you Robby? You fucking selfish bastard. I give you everything you need, and you can’t give up one freaking thing to me that would make me happy?”

“So, what, now you own my ass because you pay the electric bill? You fucking think I’m your slave or something? And what about you, Will? You don’t really care about my needs, either. Keep your fucking money.”

His well-invested resources had enabled him to start a consulting business, and we lived comfortably together in a three-bedroom condo on west 23rd street, across from the Chelsea Hotel. But I was making enough on my own at the health club, and didn’t need to take his crap. I think I loved him, at least I cared a lot about him, but it looked like we were too similar to ever be compatible sexually. I think it was our narcissism that originally drew us to each other; we looked like twins and had the identical need to dominate. Our birthdays were even the same week, three days apart, and we planned to celebrate them next weekend when Will returned to New York.

So there I was, headed back from the airport to Manhattan in Will’s platinum Jaguar. He never let me drive it unless he was along for the ride. It was his baby, and he felt funny having another man at the wheel of his personal phallic symbol. The car service had no limo available, or I wouldn’t be driving it now. I approached the Brooklyn Bridge entrance, but just couldn’t turn the wheel. I sailed past the ramp and the Jag leapt forward on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, taking me towards the south shore. I had the top down despite the cool breeze blowing off the East River. I didn’t know exactly where I was going, but I knew this road. It was the route we took last summer when we drove out to Sayville, to catch the ferry for Fire Island. There is a bar near the terminal, The Crow Bar. Maybe a drink would calm me down.

The Crow Bar was a dingy little beer hall, paneled in dark wood with red vinyl tiles on the floor. The big old bar had a stainless steel top that looked like it came out of a high school biology lab. Beer lights and posters of nude men lined the walls behind a row of little round tables flanked by stools. In the back of the bar was a lounge. The place was packed for a Sunday night. I went to the bar and ordered a Corona. I glanced around at the patrons as I squeezed the lime wedge into the neck of the bottle. Some very handsome men mixed among the local-yokels. At the far end of the bar was a stunningly good looking young guy, with a motley assortment of men fawning and pawing at him. He was probably about 20 or 21 at the most. His golden hair was longish, falling on his shoulders in rings of gold. The wide grin on his angelic face showed me he loved the attention these big ole bears were giving him. One particularly beefy guy was standing close behind the kid, urgently pressing his torso into the small of his back as he sat on the barstool. The big hairy man was massaging the boy’s shoulders as he reached back around the mountain-man’s waist, encircling his substantial girth with his arms. His tightly muscled body showed through the thin fabric of his white sleeveless tee, and I saw a very nice little bulge in his faded jeans.

The kid noticed me looking at him. I think he liked what he saw, too, because a minute later he got up and headed towards the restroom. As he passed me, he brushed his hand across my back. 

“Hey, man…How ya doin’? Don’t remember ever seeing you here before!”

He flashed a wicked grin at me, with white teeth and full pink lips that looked like they were made for sucking cock. He continued to the corner of the bar but didn’t go into the john; instead he lingered at the doorway to the dimly lit lounge. I watched him as he posed in the flickering blue neon, looking back at me to see if I was watching. Of course I was…his little butt swaying as he swaggered to the back of the bar, his glossy hair dancing on his broad shoulders, his delicate hands rubbing his rippled abdominals in lazy circles. I polished off my beer, picked up a condom from the bowl at the end of the bar and strode back to the doorway, following the golden boy into the room.

He was waiting a few feet beyond the entrance. As I entered his hand reached out and grabbed mine, pulling me to a couch in the corner. We sat together, my arm around his shoulder as he massaged my bulging dick through the stiff fabric of my jeans. He reached up to my face with his swollen lips and kissed me. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and tasted his sweet breath, Coca-Cola and peppermints.

“I’m Devon, call me Dev. Tell me what you want me to do. I’m versatile, I’ll give you whatever you need!”

I unbuttoned his fly and slipped his pants and briefs under his ass. He wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders as I reached for his milky-white buttocks. They were soft and velvety, as smooth as a baby. I massaged them for a while, then slipped my hand between the damp crack, and put my thumb on the puckered rose of his asshole. He moaned and pressed his face into my neck. 

There was a lot of intimate shit going on in the room, but we quickly became the center of attention. I have that big ego, so I was turned on to be the envy of so many men. Dev cried out as my thumb entered his ass. I flexed it inside him, making him whimper with pleasure. He reached down and opened my belt, unzipping the denim until my rock-hard cock popped out, fully erect with a drop of pre-cum glistening on it’s shiny head. He took it in his hand and pulled roughly on it.

“Holy shit, man! What an awesome cock. I really want you to screw me with it, okay? I promise you’ll enjoy it. I’m a really great fuck, and I love being nailed hard. Let me do the work and I’ll get you off, but good!”

I was sure he was great. I hated not being in control, but figured I’d let him do his thing. The men sat around us, various sexual acts in progress, waiting and watching for Dev to jump the handsome stranger. He opened my shirt, exposing my muscular pecs and mat of fine brown chest hair. He took my nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he straddled my hips, my cock standing straight up between his magnificent cheeks. Dev gently twisted them, pulling and massaging my tits until they stung. I pulled the condom out of my breast pocket and rolled it down my shaft. I slid down in the couch and Dev positioned himself to take my manhood into his gut. Squatting over me, his quivering asshole poised just on the crown of my prick, he slowly dropped himself down until I was fully inside him. He arched his back and moaned. His beautiful face showed the strain as he flexed his sphincter, trying to accept the huge intruder in his butt.