Chris & Mishka

Chris couldn’t wait to hit the beach! It had been one hell of a senior year! He managed to graduate magna cum laude from Harvard, and land his ass on The New York Rangers’ minor league hockey team. Man, did he have a horse shoe up his ass! Now, what was ahead, was like the yellow brook road to Oz, only Madison Square Garden gleamed on the horizon in its place.

Chris looked down at his ratty Birkenstock sandals, which were far from the ruby slippers, but they’d have to do for now. “Yeah, we’ll see! Right now though, we’ll party like a rock star and think about getting laid!,” he told them. He knew the sandals would wink at him if this really was a fairy tale.

Meanwhile, his buddies were confused. “Blue, what the fuck are doing, man, talking to your sandals?,” Justin asked, wrinkling up his nose. “Dude, are you surprised?,” Drew added, hurling a bottle of Hawaiian Tropic at Chris.

Chris caught the bottle up against his hip, like a football. “Yeah, I’m talking to my sandals. Don’t I have nice feet? You’d suck my toes, right, Wardley?” Drew made a gagging noise in jest, as Chris tried to get his leg up on him. “Get those Yeti feet away from me!,” he yelled, giving him a push. “Let your girlfriend suck them...Or maybe Janik...”

Janik! The name hit him in the gut like a brick. The first time he hooked up with his on-again-off-again lover, was in a place just as hot and sunny as Miami. He was sick to his stomach, thinking of the way they broke up only weeks ago. 

Chris had a deadline to drop Mary Beth and be exclusive with Tyler, but when the day came, the buzzer sounded and Mary Beth was still in the picture. After a little over three years, Chris still couldn’t admit that he was in love with another man. He promised Tyler so much and didn’t deliver. Tyler dumped his girlfriend sophomore year for Chris and told him that it was cool if he stayed with Mary Beth, as long as he was the only guy Chris fucked.

Come junior year, Tyler’s jealousy got out of control more than once. His binge drinking started to borderline on the need for serious rehab! He tried to blame it on the drunken Scottish roots from his mother, but Chris knew that it was because he wasn’t getting the love and devotion he needed and deserved.

Every time Tyler left, Chris knew he’d come to his room wasted after the bar. There’d be no words exchanged when Chris opened the door at 2 am; they’d just grab each other like two wild lions, and tear the clothes right off their bodies. Tyler ruined quite a few of Chris’ shirts over the years, but the sex was mind blowing! 

One time, Chris was so horny that he was almost enraged, and he made Tyler’s hot little ass bleed. He cried for fifteen minutes, telling Tyler he was sorry repeatedly, and how much he loved him. They just held each other. Tyler laughed it off and said that as much as he loved the thought of “getting the shit fucked out of him,” he’d prefer to bleed a little instead. 

Chris knew he could do anything to him and it would be cool. They were nasty in bed, but at the same time they were loving and tender. ‘Tripp’ was filet mignon. Sex with Mary Beth was like a vanilla milkshake compared to sex with him. Ok, sometimes she’d stick her finger up his ass when she blew him, but only because she knew he loved it. And he’d have to ask first and see that reluctant look on her pretty face, as if he just asked her to eat cow entrails. 

Tripp did it automatically, if it wasn’t his tongue or his dick up there first. He knew how to trigger Chris’ love button to the point where he’d shake uncontrollably and scream. And he’d growl in his ear, “You like that?...You gonna cum for me, baby?...Yeah?...Mmmmm...Louder!...Come on, Blue!” Tripp would moan right back at him whenever he’d moan - totally teasing him - before he’d let him cum. It drove Chris fucking crazy! And frenching him with that tongue ring...The way it felt when he’d lick his ass...

He couldn’t think about it anymore! His Tyler walked out for the last time. His filet mignon would find another plate, where he wouldn’t have to watch Chris sip a boring vanilla milkshake between each tasty bite...

“Ummm...Let’s not talk about Tyler, okay guys?,” Chris said, having no control over the words coming out a little nasty and upset. He thought that was pretty damn good, being he was killing himself inside fighting off tears.

Drew looked like he saw a ghost and Justin kinda just hung his head. “Dude, I’m sorry Chris!,” Drew muttered, wishing he was made of rubber, so his foot could kick his own ass. It was no secret. They were both there when Chris and Tripp first kissed on freshman spring break, up on the stage at ‘Senor Frog’s’. The next day, Chris told all their friends he was bisexual. No one cared, because half the guys at Harvard got it on with their male friends, especially drunk after frat parties. Some never did it again, but most just didn’t do it again until they were drunk!

“Dude, its fine!,” Chris sighed, walking out on the balcony and breathing in the humid, tropical air. “I’m here to get totally fucking hammered - and fuck every fucking chick that doesn’t slap me across the face! Now hurry the fuck up and put your suit on, ‘cuz I only wanna be in here if I’m passed out or getting laid!”

‘Big Yellow Taxi’ was playing somewhere down by the Oasis pool, “...Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til its gone...They paved paradise and put up a parking lot...,” The Counting Crows sang. It reminded him of what he lost every time he fucking heard it!

“Shut that song the fuck off!,” Chris found himself hollering down to a gathering of golden-skinned, muscular guys hanging by the pool. They were stuffed deliciously into red spandex suits, screaming European. One was tossing a lifeguard float up in the air and catching it.

A tall, beefy blond in dark sunglasses took a step forward and looked up towards Chris. “Vali otsyuda!,” he yelled up to him with a cupped hand. Then, he muttered something to one who was reclining in a chair. He turned up the radio and they all mocked Chris with their laughter.

Chris chewed furiously on his lip; but, at the same time, was surprised that his cock began to stiffen in his snug, Hawaiian suit. All that tanned skin and sun kissed hair down there was making him hot. That, and the blatant fucking defiance for them to do what he wanted! He pictured himself bending the tall blond over his knee and spanking his ass while he purred in whatever fucking language he was speaking.

“Fuck them, Blue! Let’s check out the beach!,” Justin said, patting his shoulder. They left the unpacking for later. They had a week here. Plenty of time for that!

They crossed the patio ten minutes later, barefoot and all-American gorgeous. Chris was so heavenly that he made his attractive friends look average. Playing hockey gave them all huge thighs, shoulders and forearms, but Chris was exceptional in every way imaginable! 

People tended to stare when he walked by. He had the body of Adonis and the face of Cupid...He was more beautiful than handsome, with piercing, moss-colored eyes and a mop of chocolate curls that you just wanted to run your fingers through forever...

Justin and Drew looked for hot girls by the pool side, making sure they greeted them all and told them what rooms they were staying in. Chris of course stopped with them and reveled in the same perverted ‘guy thoughts’ as his eyes devoured their tiny bathing suits and bulging cleavage. It was refreshing to him that he could get himself to drool over more than just Tyler’s perfect ass, and he smiled to himself.

Something was peculiar though...The pool side seemed pretty packed, and people were staring over the gate that led to the private beach like Peeping Toms. Some were pushing each other to get better views.

“You guys wanna hit the beach with us?,” Andy asked, nodding towards the line of people with necks stretched like little green aliens. The girls looked at each other giggled. “What’s going on?,” Drew asked, his blue eyes wide as saucers.

Two foreign speaking men wearing next to nothing walked by with bottles of Evian. They had incredible, hairless bodies and tans. They seemed a little out of place here somehow. American lifeguards didn’t wear such revealing suits. Chris couldn’t put his finger on it though...One of them was the one that yelled up at Chris about the radio. He looked like a Norse god up close. 

As they passed Chris, the Norse god’s crystal blue eyes met his, and he said to his friend, “Krasivy!” The svelte, dark-haired guy with him nodded and said, “Da!” They smiled at him, and the tall blond winked. Chris felt his cock twitch.

He watched them approach the gate to the private beach, which a large, bulging-armed security guard allowed them access to. Then, the gate was closed again.

“They’re filming a gay porno on the beach right now! But they’re supposed to be done by 3:30!,” an adorable brunette girl informed them. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

“Can you...see anything?,” Chris asked, trying hard to sound like he wouldn’t love to.

“No!,” a 40-something, flamboyant queen interjected from the neighboring community of chaise lounges. “Honey, I tried! Mikhail Krepka is fucking here! I’d give my left nut to see him get rimmed on the wet sand!” One of his gay porn groupie friends high-fived him for that remark.

“Gross!,” the token bitchy blond girl cried out, tossing her head. Chris laughed to himself. ‘Hi, Mary Beth!,’ he thought. The gay guys all chorused, “Whatever honey!” “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” “Like pussy tastes better!” Then, he thought of rimming Tripp and needed to excuse himself for a minute. He offered to buy everyone a round of drinks as an escape. Of course no one said no.