Mean Licks

I arrived at the recording studio early. A band I was
managing was cutting a new release. Six months ago these
guys were dog shit on the sidewalk. Last week they had the
audacity to walk out of a session just because somebody
bought the wrong brand of beer. Funny how a little taste of
success can turn some people into temperamental pricks. But
so long as they keep bringing in the hits, I'll continue to
do everything I can to make certain everything is up to their
bloated expectations.

It was purely by chance that I heard the kid. His voice
was like that of a soulful angel. When I heard him, I had to
see the face that went with the voice. Silently I slipped
into the studio. I couldn't believe my fucking eyes. So
often the voice doesn't match the face. That wasn't the case
with this kid. He not only sounded like an angel, he looked
like one.

He was quite young and even though his wavy, brown hair
hung down past his shoulders, he was wholesome looking. His
features were more beautiful than handsome. I nearly shit my
pants when he looked up into the booth and smiled. He had
the sexiest fucking eyes I'd ever seen. Of course, I was
compelled to check out the bulge in the crotch of his tight,
faded Levi's.

The kid cut loose on lead guitar with some of the
meanest licks I'd ever heard. Every note he struck seemed to
have "superstar" written all over it. I asked around and
found out the kid's name was Brian Tyler. He was the talent
of a mom-and-pop operation, and was there cutting a demo.
Christ, what a waste. The kid was not only a natural, he was
the hottest thing I'd seen in a long time.

I waited around until the kid finished recording his
tape.

"Excuse me," I called to him as he headed for the exit.

The kid turned and looked me up and down with his huge,
brown eyes. Standing next to him I realized he was much
taller than I thought. He was well over six feet tall. The
kid left me spell bound. Never had I ever seen such a work
of human perfection. My eyes wandered down his slender torso
to visually caress the fullness of his well defined basket.

"Do I know you?" He asked, politely.

I introduced myself and was flattered by the fact that he
knew my name.

"Are you really serious about your music?' "Absolutely,"
he replied excitedly.

I handed him on of my cards. "Then I suggest you be at
my office first thing in the morning."

The kid was dumb struck. He said nothing until I turned
to walk away. "I'll be there. And thanks a lot."

"Don't thank me yet, kid. Let's talk first. By the
way, how old are you?"

"Nineteen," he replied.

"Great. Leave you mom and dad at home. I don't get
along well with parents."

"I don't know," said Brian. "They oversee everything."

"Come alone, or don't come at all, kid. It's up to
you.'

The next morning, when I arrived at my office, Brian was
waiting.

"Am I too early?" He asked. "You didn't specify a
time."

"You're right on time. Come on in. Have a seat." I
could tell he was nervous as hell. "You ready to become a
star?"

"Just like that?" He questioned. "You make it sound
easy."

"Nothing's ever easy in this business, kid. But if
you're up to it, I think together we can make you rich beyond
your wildest dreams."

The kid's face beamed with excitement. We talked shop
until noon. I took Brian to lunch at my favorite restaurant.
I immediately picked up on the fact that our waitress, a
sleek young beauty in her mid-twenties, was flirting like
hell with my new, would-be client. She did everything but
grab his cock, trying to get him to notice her. At best, she
received a casual smile as Brian gave her his order. His
nonchalant behavior intrigued me. It was time I got to know
Brian on a more intimate level. The waitress wasn't the only
one interested in getting into his tight jeans. I stared
across the table at him. Sweet Jesus, he was prettier than
the waitress.

When the waitress left with our orders, I leaned across
the table. "You get laid much, kid?"

"I've had my share of women," Brian offered, blushing
shyly as he looked around to see if anyone else might have
overheard my query.

Somehow I doubted his claim. I noticed Brian's eyes
wander to the bus boy who was clearing the table next to
ours. I have to admit, his presence hadn't escaped my eye
either. He was a small, asian boy, no older than Brian. He
had jet black hair, and a cute little ass that made my cock
tingle with lustful fantasy. We both watched him walk away
with his tray of dirty dishes.

"Nice butt," I said, at a whisper.

"What!" Brian jumped.

"You heard me. Don't tell me you didn't notice.
Wouldn't you just love to stick you cock between those tight
buns? What do you want to bet his dick is uncut? Christ, I
love to chew on foreskin. There's nothing quite like it."

Brian squirmed restlessly in his chair, twisting his
napkin.

"Know what," he asked.

"That you like boys."

Every bit of color left Brian's attractive, young face.
He looked around in a panic. "Are you all right?" I asked,
realizing I'd struck a raw nerve.

"I've got to get out of here," he said. "I feel sick."

"Sure, kid. Wait for me outside. I'll have lunch
delivered to my office."

Brian was silent during our short walk back to my
office. At least he was regaining his color. He no longer
resembled a walking corpse.

"Why did you say those things to me?" Brian asked, once
we were back in the privacy of my office.

"I've been around, kid. I recognize a fag when I see
one. This business is full of fags and dykes. And then you
have your fucked-up people. I've seen it all. Done most of
it too."

Brian didn't dispute my observations. He just stared at
me. I could tell his naive brain was on overload. He looked
like he was about to slip into a coma. It was time for some
shock therapy. If the kid couldn't cut it, better find out
now than later.

I picked up the phone and called a friend who designs
wardrobe for a lot of performers. "Billy boy, I need a
favor. I got this new, young stud who needs a fitting. Can
you send someone this afternoon? I really appreciate it
Billy. Oh, and Billy, why don't you send Freddie. He does
great things."

Freddie was a hot, young cocksucker who worked for
Billy. I was sure that once Freddie got a load of Brian,
things were bound to happen. I would have staked my
reputation on it.

By the time Freddie arrived, we had eaten, I had booked
studio time and worked up a preliminary contract. "Sign
here, kid, and you're on your way."

"Shouldn't I have a lawyer look this over first?" Brian
asked.

"It's up to you. It's just an agreement between us
stating that you won't sign with another agent. Simple,
straight forward stuff."

Brian carefully read through the document before signing
it. "This is all happening so fast."

"Time is money, kid."

The temperamental Freddie arrived in such a huff,
storming right past Brian without noticing him. "What the
fuck is so important that you have to drag my sorry ass all
the way down here in the middle of the day? You think I'm
your personal puppet, or something?"

"Freddie, I'd like you to meet Brian."

Freddie spun around, in his flamboyant style, to face a
wide-eyed Brian. "Oh, sweet Jesus," gasped Freddie. "There
is a God. Quick somebody pinch me. I think I've just died
and gone to heaven."

"So what do you think of him, Freddie? You think you
can do something with him?"

Freddie clutched his fist over his heart. "Are you
shitting me?" He choked, peering at me over his sunglasses.
"What I wouldn't do with him hasn't been thought of yet."

"Stand up, kid. Let Freddie have a good look at you."

Brian slowly stood. Freddie circled him like a starving
vulture. "You're exquisite. But we need to do something
about lifting up your basket." With that, Freddie reached
out and cupped Brian's crotch in his hand and gently raised
his limp manhood.

Brian blushed bashfully as Freddie groped his cock and
balls. It wasn't until Freddie reached to unfasten his jeans
that Brian objected.

"Don't be a wuss, sweetie," Freddie said,
affectionately, patting Brian on the cheek. I've seen it
all. Tasted most of it, too," he giggled. "So relax, and let
Freddie do his job."

I came around from behind my desk as Freddie opened up
the front of the kid's jeans. "I can't work like this,"
Freddie wailed in frustration. "I'm and artist. My
measurements must be exact. You're simply going to have to
get out of those rags."

"You want me to take off my cloths?" Brian asked,
astonished. My stiff cock pressed out against my pants as I
went across the room and locked my office door.

"I insist," said Freddie, twirling his tape measure.

"I don't know if I can do that," Brian said.

Yanking down the front of the kid's pants, Freddie
offered, "Sure you can. See how easy it is."

Freddie and I both stared lustfully at the kid's
vulnerable, young flesh. His sizable cock was half hard and
getting harder right before our eyes. Freddie reached down
between his own legs and squeezed his stiffening cock.
Conceding to Freddie's will, Brian modestly finished
stripping off his cloths.