Roo's Birthday Surprise

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The man's muscles ripple as he pumps his fist up and down. A sheen of sweat glistens off his olive skin. Andrew finds himself staring at the guy's tattoo, a red rose with a stem like barbed wire, running from the man's left pectoral all the way down to his pubis; Andrew's gaze follows the tattoo until his eyes settle once again on the man's erection, looking blurry but still impressive. The guy's webcam can't process the speed with which he is jerking off.

Andrew's slender fingers dance over the keyboard, tapping keys with uncanny precision. Roo's right hand is buried in his trousers, wrapped around his own cock. Enter. A loud ping -- too loud, it hurts his ear -- momentarily drowns out the other guy's soft moans and heavy breathing. An indication Andrew's message got delivered via private chat. Andrew adjusts his earbud, rereads his own message on the screen.

can i see ur face??

He doesn't expect a reply. The other guy (nickname: heli0s29) never replies. At least, he's never replied to Andrew, but Roo's never seen him typing either. Except for the black cloth bandana covering his face, "Helios" is always fully naked already when he gets online -- usually every Saturday and Sunday between 3 and 4 in the afternoon, sometimes in the evening on weekdays. Andrew knows this because the website sends alerts to his phone whenever Helios comes online (for a fee, which Roo pays for with the credit card his dad "lost" but hasn't blocked yet).

Roo types another message, hits send.

mmm ur cock looks so fine

Roo picks up the pace, his fist moving up and down the length of his shaft while his eyes rove over Helios' body before fixating on the webcam performer's thick cock again. He types yet another message, his breathing shallow.

I want to feel it

And he does; he imagines what it would be like to have Helios' dick in his mouth. Would he be able to take it all in? What does Helios taste like? It's funny, in a way -- up until a couple of months ago, Andrew never would have wondered about stuff like this. And then one day, on a whim more than out of curiosity, he surfed to the cam site and clicked one of the performers at random. Helios.

And Andrew was hooked. Gay for Helios. Well, not only for Helios... Ever since Andrew first blew his load while watching Helios stroking his thick dick live on cam, he's been looking at guys differently. Sneaking glances at the curve of their ass, the bulge in their pants. Getting not-so-random boners in the shower after gym class, surrounded by smooth, soapy bodies. Furiously masturbating at night while imagining his hand on another guy's ass, his mouth on biceps and pecs and abs and cock.

A tingle in his balls warns Andrew he's close. He slows down his strokes, tries to tense the muscles around his perineum -- he read about this online: it delays the orgasm and makes it more intense. And, what the hell; Andrew reaches out for the keyboard again.

its my birthday

Roo doesn't really know what he hopes to accomplish by sharing this tidbit about himself with Helios, and it doesn't matter. His breathing comes in shallow gasps; he leans forward in his chair, nose almost pressed to the laptop's screen as he takes in the sight of Helios' dick and imagines it filling him up, imagines the weight of Helios' body on his own, pressing him down while little drops of sweat fall down from Helios' brow onto Andrew's own face, his lips brushing against Helios' bandana as their eyes lock--

"Oh, fuck," Andrew gasps. "Fuuuck." Hot cum spills over his fingers and darkens the inside of his sweatpants. He'll have to wipe them clean before putting them in the laundry basket, or his dad might wonder about the stain.

Pling.

That's weird. He hasn't sent any message... Still in the throes of his orgasm, Andrew gasps. On the screen, in a red font, is a message from Helios.

happy bd ;)

An actual message from Helios! Andrew stares at the screen, flabbergasted. Helios is back to stroking his dick, but is that a crinkle at the corner of his eye? Is he smiling underneath that bandana?

Andrew jumps when there's a knock on the door. "Just a sec!" He slams the laptop closed, reaches out for a pillow with his left hand -- his right still wrapped around his cock, sticky with sperm -- and knocks over the plastic water bottle on his desk. "Shit!" He tries to pick it up, now holding a pillow, and only succeeds in batting the bottle off the table.

The door opens. Andrew freezes, horrified, pillow in one hand while the other's in his tented and stained trousers. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Then screams, "Oh my god, dad! Why do you even knock if you're just gonna come in anyway?"

With an involuntary groan, Ellis starts to climax. Long experience has taught him at which angle he should hold his dick for the best visual effect, so that the jets of cum hit his body just so and leave glistening trails on his upper body. Sometimes, after a particularly long session, his cum shoots all the way up to his face; he tries to aim for the bandana, but on several occasion he's managed to hit himself in the eye. Not that his viewers ever seemed to mind that, or even notice it.

As his balls spasm and push out the last of his seed, Ellis glances at some of the messages streaming by on the screen.

WOW!!!

Oh yeah bby cum for me

mmm I wanna see you eat that cum

Yeah, yeah, yeah. He suppresses a sigh and unceremoniously disconnects the webcam. The bandana comes off next. Ellis takes a deep breath; he hates how the bandana makes his face all sweaty, how it makes his stubble even more itchy. He's tried masks a few time -- both regular cloth and latex -- but they felt too constraining. And anyway, his "fans" seem to prefer to see his eyes, at least.

Ellis rummages in a drawer, fishing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, lights one up. He would kill for some weed right now. Probably for the best he doesn't have any, though; his shift starts in a couple of hours. He takes a drag from his cigarette and absentmindedly scratches at his pubis. The trails of cum are already getting dry and sticky, clotting his pubic hair together, but that's okay. There's still time for a shower later.

Why did he send that message? He always sticks to his three rules: one, don't let them see your face. Two, get as many viewers as possible, for as long as possible -- many guys on the site pay by the minute, and Ellis gets fifteen cents on the dollar. And three: don't respond to the messages. He's on the website to make a quick buck, not to make friends.

Not only that, but the one time he breaks his rule, the other guy goes offline not five seconds later. Rude. The odd thing is, Ellis recognised the guy's username, roo99. This "Roo" is almost always watching when Ellis performs; one of Ellis' first viewers, "Roo" is probably responsible for a good chunk of the money Ellis made while camming on the site.

Ellis stubs out his cigarette. Ah well. Lesson learned. Don't trust any of the sleazy guys on this site; they're only here to watch you jerk off. Still, it stings. Why do all men have to be dogs? He's never interacted with this "Roo" guy -- until today, that is -- but he'd gotten... accustomed to him. Another reason to never respond to any of the guys on the site, he guesses. They can't disappoint you if you never talk to them.

He pads into the shower, lets the lukewarm water run over his body. Picks at the dried cum on his stomach, his mind miles away.

Truth is, he likes showing off in front of a webcam. The money is nice -- if it was any nicer, he could probably give up his job at the Cupid -- and it goes a long way towards paying rent. But it turns him on to feel wanted, to know he's responsible for a complete stranger's excitement, for their orgasms.

What he doesn't like is guys. Sure, he likes to have sex with them (mostly, there's always exceptions). Not a big fan of being ghosted, though, or of being treated like a walking dildo. Most dudes assume he's dumb, because of the way Ellis looks and because of his bartending job, and never mind he's taking up 15 credits in community college this semester. One time, a guy Ellis was dating -- and quite liked -- found out about the webcam site and called Ellis a whore, insinuating that was what Ellis really did at the Cupid instead of bartending.

Ellis hasn't really dated anyone since that conversation, three months previous. Well, he's had a few one-night stands, but those don't really count...

He shakes his head, clears those thoughts away. He's been wool-gathering, almost feeling sorry for himself over guys who aren't worth his attention anyway. What a waste of time. And water.

He steps out of the shower, towels himself off, and gets ready to leave for work.

Jeremy glances over at the passenger seat for the umpteenth time since they left home. His son, Andrew, pointedly ignores him by looking out the window, arms folded across his chest.

Great. Just great. Jeremy clears his throat, prepares to say something, anything, to break the silence.

Just as he opens his mouth, Andrew's hand shoots out, lightning-fast, towards the car radio. Some happy pop tune fills the car at top volume, drowning out whatever Jeremy was about to say. Jeremy snaps his mouth shut, looks at the passenger seat again. His son glares back defiantly, red blots showing up on his cheeks.

Okay. Deep breath. Andrew's temperament sometimes seems like an unholy mix of both his parents' worst sides. As much as Jeremy would love to remind his son who's boss, that would result in a drawn-out shouting match. And Jeremy's trying, he really is. He wants to be a cool dad. A chill dad. And it's the kid's birthday, after all.

Or course, it doesn't help the tension any that Jeremy walked in on Andrew during a... private moment.

"Son," Jeremy starts -- no good, he can't even hear himself over the music. He reaches for the car radio, simultaneously trying to meet his son's baleful gaze and to keep an eye on traffic. The music turns off abruptly. Wrong button. Andrew's glare intensifies.

"Son," Jeremy tries again. "I get that you're... embarrassed--"

"Oh my god."

"--but there's really... there's no reason to, these--"

"I'm not hearing this. I'm not."

"--perfectly normal urges. In fact, when I was your age..."

"Dad! We don't need to talk about this!" Andrew looks as if he's about ready to jump out of the moving car. "Like, ever."

"I'm just saying, I understand," Jeremy mutters. Not for the first time, he wonders why it's so hard to talk to his son. Talking to the guys at the construction site is a lot easier--but maybe that's because he's responsible for their paycheck. He's never walked in on one of his employees jerking off either, so there's that.

The silence grows. Jeremy struggles for something, anything to say, and comes up blank. Then--an inspiration. "So... you seeing anyone?"

Andrew squints his eyes. "What?"

"Are you seeing anyone? Do you have a girlfriend?"

His son makes a small noise in the back of his throat that somehow perfectly expresses he finds the question both offensive and ridiculous. Jeremy waits, not taking his eyes off the road. Finally, Andrew deigns to reply. "No, dad, I'm not seeing anyone. Thanks so much for asking and pointing that out. Are you?"

"I--oh, no, I..." Jeremy says, flustered. Lamely, he finishes, "I still miss your mom too much."

He can practically hear Andrew's eye-roll at that. "Why do you always talk about mom like she died, instead of ditching us to shack up in with Rrro-dri-go in Barcelona?"

"Andrew!"

"Whatever. You know it's true."

"Well." Jeremy huffs. "Even if it's true, there's no reason to be so, so blunt about it."

"Seriously, dad? Being blunt is the issue here?"

"Yeah, yeah, all right. Can we just drop this, please?" The kid's got a point, though: maybe it's time to get over Sharon. Jeremy hasn't dated anyone in over a year now, not counting his monthly trips to the Cupid's Arrows, because he pays for those. He would claim he's too busy with work, but the truth is the guys at the site run such a tight ship they only need him to come in to sign off on everyone's hours.

"Why did you ask, anyway? If I have a girlfriend?"

Wait, does Andrew sound... nervous? The kid is staring at his hands instead of getting all in Jeremy's face, as he usually does. Maybe he's worried Jeremy found out about the credit card -- in fact, he's known about his son using one of his credit cards to access an "erotic webcam" site pretty much since the start, and he really doesn't mind. If anything, he feels like there's finally something about his son he understand. He was just the same as a teenager. That's what this whole outing is about. It's practically a family tradition.

"Oh," Jeremy says, playing it cool. "Just asking. I wouldn't want to get you into trouble."

"What does that mean?"

This is going to be great. By the end of the day, his son will practically worship him, like he did when he was a small child. "You'll see."

"Uh. You're freaking me out, dad."

Jeremy just smiles. "You'll see."

They pull in up the parking lot of a low structure, surrounded by woods. By Andrew's count, they passed the last house at least ten minutes ago. Between that and his father's mysterious behaviour, this is some serial killer bullshit. Roo is ready to bolt from the car when he notices the neon sign on top of the building: Cupid's Arrows. Complete with a bad animated cartoon of a plump little cherub shooting an arrow through a pink heart.

He's heard about this place.

It's basically a legend. Some of the older guys in school brag they come here every week, though no one believes them, of course. It'd cost too much. What's more believable is that about a quarter of Roo's classmates lost their virginity here. The Cupid's is not a bar, or a stripclub, or even just a bordello; it's a rite of passage for guys Andrew's age.

Damn. He'd even be excited about this, if only he were into girls.

He makes a decision. In the car he already had a mini panic attack when his dad asked him about his non-existent girlfriend. He has no idea whether or not his dad would be cool with him being into dudes, but it seems unlikely; he's made some disparaging remarks about "sissies" before, and he does work at a construction site, after all.

This is going to take some acting skills.

"Whoa, the Cupid's, huh?" He was going for enthusiasm, but it immediately sounds hollow and artificial to him. Stupid. Don't try so hard.

His dad on the other hand perks up right away, oblivious. "You've heard of it, then?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, some of the guys, at school..." He trails off.

"Hey, I get it, son. I might not look it, but I was your age once." His dad seems very pleased with himself, and Andrew's heart drops. It's kind of sad, really, to think how he'll eventually turn out to be a disappointment to Jeremy.

Or he could just never tell him. Only bring home girls and tell dad they're his dates, or--

"You ready to go in?"

Andrew forces a smile. "Sure. Let's do it."

They exit the car and cross the short distance to the front door. Andrew reaches for it, but his dad puts a hand on his shoulder. "This is where you become a man, son," he says gravely. "That's what my own father told me here, once, so that's what I'm telling you now. And don't worry." Wink. "It's my treat."

Okay, that's actually sort of sweet, in a very awkward way. Andrew swallows, nods, and pushes through the Cupid's front door.

The front room feels a lot like a reception desk. A young woman stands behind a counter, offers them a smile. It grows wider as she notices Andrew's dad. "Jerry! How long has it been? And you brought a friend."

Jeremy turns beet red, stammers, "Hi, Sapphire. This is my son, Andrew."

The woman -- Andrew's not naive enough to believe her name is really Sapphire -- winks at him. "First time, huh? Well, you go right on in, sweetie." She nods towards double doors, framed by potted plants and decorated with shiny golden cherubs and curlicues. All fake, of course. All plastic, even the potted plants. He glances back to his dad, who's speaking to "Sapphire" in a low voice. She laughs, a bright, too loud sound, and touches Jeremy's arm. Jeremy smiles, keeps talking, and digs up his wallet. Probably to pay their entrance fee, or something. Andrew steps inside.

The heat, the music and the smell hit him all at once. It's like stepping into some kind of nocturnal jungle cave, if jungle caves were filled with chemical floral air fresheners and patchouli, and if the jungle animals were for some reason really into generic trance music. It takes only a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim lights.

There's topless women everywhere.

Despite himself, Andrew's heart starts to beat faster. His palms feel clammy, though he can't be sure whether it's because of the heat or the nerves caused by the excessive nudity all around him. Should've brought an extra shirt; he can already feel the wet patches form around his armpits.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he nearly jumps. It's his dad. "Feast your eyes, son. You only turn eighteen once."

Andrew swallows. His mouth is suddenly very dry. "Yeah. Hey, now that I'm a legal adult and all, how about a drink?"

His dad laughs -- too loud -- and slaps Andrew's shoulder -- too hard. At least one of them is having a good time already. For fuck's sake, I'm your son, not one of your construction site buddies. Andrew grimaces and hopes it looks like a smile.

"Let's go," Jeremy says, waving an arm around magnanimously. "You see anything you like, you let me know. My treat. Happy birthday, Roo."

"Don't call me that," Andrew mutters, knowing the music makes it impossible for his dad to hear him. In truth, he enjoys the nickname -- but to hear his dad use it, to be all familiar with him, to pretend they're buddies now, is just jarring. He desperately needs that drink, and fast. The bartender -- a hunky guy, seems to be in his mid to late twenties, not at all bad-looking, if a bit scruffy -- is in the midst of an animated conversation with a young brunette. Andrew waves to try and get his attention, and, when that doesn't work, loudly snaps his fingers and yells, "Hey! Some service here?"

He really needs a drink.

The bartender saunters over, frowning, which is... whatever. Actually, it makes him look even more attractive. Brooding.

Jeremy sits down on the barstool next to Andrew. "We'll have two beers."

"Actually," Andrew snaps. "Vodka coke for me."

The bartender scoffs. Looks from Andrew to Jeremy, then to Andrew again. Finally says, "Sure, kid."

Did he emphasise the kid? What-ever. It's not like Andrew needs anyone's approval -- and especially not from some meathead jock working at a titty-bar-slash-brothel. He glowers at the guy as he brings him his drink. "Thanks so much." He takes a big gulp from the cold drink.

"Yeah, sure." The bartender gives Jeremy his beer and goes back to talking to the woman.

"Hey, Ruby!" Jeremy booms. The woman looks up, smiles, gives a little wave. His dad beckons her over.

Andrew takes another big gulp. His dad's so pathetic. It's obvious the woman doesn't remember him, obvious she's just acting -- well, doing her job, more likely. He sips his drink again, ice cubes rattling against the glass.

"Jeez, Roo, slow down a bit, huh? It's not even four o'clock yet."

Andrew puts the glass down -- too hard, but he doesn't care. "'S my birthday, isn'it?"

His dad looks like he's about to say something, but then the woman he called Ruby is suddenly standing next to him. "Well, hi there, stranger."

It takes some effort for Andrew to suppress a snicker. He reaches for his drink and nearly misses. Wait, did he have lunch? His dad seems deep in conversation with the woman, oblivious to the fact that she doesn't remember his name and makes up for it by calling him "honey", "sweetie" and "stranger".

They laugh. Andrew drinks. Time seems to simultaneously pass too slow and too fast, and he realises he's just drinking molten ice cubes.

"... so yeah, this is my son, Andrew."

Suddenly the woman is next to him, too close, her breast softly pressing against his bicep. She takes his hand as if to shake it but doesn't let go. He's uncomfortably aware of how clammy his palms really are, despite cradling his cold drink only a second before.

"Well, aren't you a handsome young buck! Your daddy tells me it's your birthday?"

He wants to ask her why she talks like that, but of course he knows the answer -- and besides, none of this is her fault, so why be rude? "Yes, ma'am." The word yes is a lot harder to form than it has any business being. His mouth feels like it's asleep.

She laughs -- Andrew thinks it almost sounds genuine. "What a perfect gentleman. Ma'am. Please, do call me Ruby."

He tries to withdraw his hand, but she won't let go. Ruby leans in, so her lips brush Andrew's ear. "Now why don't we go somewhere we can get ourselves acquainted a little better, all right?" And with that, she starts walking -- leading Andrew along.

His dad winks and raises his beer to them.

Oh shit. Shit. It's happening already? He'd hoped for more time -- and a couple more drinks, at least. Andrew's heart is beating in his throat while the interior of Cupid's Arrows passes him by in a blur. There's the stage with the topless women, three or four men watching them -- the place is kind of empty, but then again, it's the middle of the afternoon. And then the stage is behind them, and they're in a long corridor with about a dozen doors. Flowery wallpaper, more fake potted plants. It seems that whoever designed the interior here was going for an old-timey saloon vibe, before remembering they were supposed to keep to the Cupid-theme and and covering all the doors in tacky cherub decorations.

Ruby leads him into a room and it's... well, it's not nice, but it's not awful, either. It's clean, at least on the surface. More fake plants, a flatscreen mounted on the wall, and a kingsize bed. He doesn't really want to think about anything that's gone on in that bed. Probably they change the sheets every time someone uses it, right?

Click.

He turns around. Ruby's by the door, her hand on the small turning knob that locks it -- pretty much like the locks on the doors in a public bathroom. Classy.

"You're a bit... jumpy, aren't you?" For a second there, she dropped her fake accent.

Andrew swallows. "Yeah. I guess."

Ruby walks past him, sits down on the bed. Pats the spot next to her.

Okay. This is it. Andrew sits down -- too fast, the bed creaks loudly -- and keeps his eyes to the front. He jumps when Ruby lightly places her hand on his leg.

A look of genuine concern passes over her face. There's no trace of the exaggerated southern drawl now when she speaks. "Look, kid... We don't have to do anything. You know that, right?"

He folds his hands in his lap, stares at them. "Yeah. Sure."

The silence drags on.

Ruby leans in closer. "Just... relax, okay?" Her hands are on his shoulders, gently exerting pressure. It feels... nice. He can feel some of the pressure seeping out of him. "That's right," Ruby murmurs, her mouth by his ear again, nuzzling against it. "Just let it all go."

Andrew closes his eyes, exhales a long, shuddering breath. He leans his body backward, into Ruby's, feels the heat of her through his shirt. Ruby's right hand snakes down his body, lingering on his chest, then down again, the sudden weight of it heavy on his groin.

"... Oh."

He sighs.

"Is it... did you drink too much? Sometimes that happens."

"I... no, no, that's not it." Well, he is pretty buzzed, but by now he's also sure if he can't get it hard for this woman, he can't get it hard for any woman.

"Is it me? Would you like me to get someone else?"

"No! You're great. It's just..." He hesitates. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the fact that she's a total stranger, but suddenly, he really needs to tell someone what he's been struggling to admit to himself for all these months. "I think I might be gay."

She lifts her hand from his crotch -- but, he notices, keeps her arm around his shoulder. "Oh. Oh. Well, that's a relief." She flusters; she sounds very different now that she's not putting on the country cowgirl act. "I mean... that came out wrong! I didn't mean to be rude. It's just, this is my job, you know, to make guys feel all... excited, and whatnot. I'm rattling." She snaps her mouth shut. Squeezes Andrew's shoulder. "Also, there's nothing wrong with being gay, you know."

Andrew has to laugh at that, but he's also... well, relieved. The first person he came out to, and she didn't recoil in disgust. Sure, she's also a sex worker, but it still counts for something. Then, a sobering thought. "Sure. I know there's nothing wrong with it, I guess, but try telling that to my dad."

"What, to Jer-Bear?"

Huh, guess she does know his name... wait. "Who?"

"Nevermind that. Look, I know your dad likes to seem all rough and tough, but he's actually a pretty sweet guy. Although I guess you know him a lot better than I do."

"Jer-Bear?"

Ruby makes a face. "I feel like you're focusing on the non-pertinent issues here."

"And he's a pretty sweet guy? My dad?" Another thought. "Wait wait wait... Did you and my dad--"

"Oh, no, no!"

"Because... if you did, and then he paid you to... to, you know, with me... that would be fucked up."

"Well, maybe once or twice. But that was so long ago, it hardly counts."

"Annnd I'm scarred for life."

"Aw, pumpkin." She squeezes his shoulder again, then stands up. "It's really cute how you can't even say 'fuck' unless it's in 'fucked up'."

"I'm sending you my future therapist's bills."

"Sure. Now, what are we gonna do with you? It being your birthday and all, and Jer-Bear having paid for the full package..."

"I really wish you wouldn't call him that in front of me."

"As my own daddy used to say, tough shit." She perks up, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh! I know just the thing."

Ellis is handing the man -- total DILF, by the way -- his third beer. The guy's kid's pretty hot too, despite being a bit too young to Ellis' tastes, and that's not even considering the fact he acted like a total douchebag. He hopes Tanya (Ruby, as she's known to the clientele) is okay. Sometimes these younger guys, they think just because they're paying for it, they can do anything they want.

There aren't any other clients at the bar, and the DILF clearly wants to talk to someone. In fact, most of the guys who come here don't just want to fuck, not really. They think they do, but what they want is someone who'll listen to them bitch and moan about their shitty wife, their shitty kids, their shitty job. It's a cliché and a lie that only women want to talk about that kind of stuff. Ellis should know; as a bartender, he's on the front lines for these conversations.

He's idly wondering if he could convince this guy to take a quick trip to the bathroom and mess around. There's a glory hole in one of the stalls, which always struck him as super-weird, seeing as Cupid's is basically a brothel anyway. But he's not complaining. He's gotten lucky there before, and maybe, if he can get a few more beers in this guy before his son's finished up with Tanya, he can get something else in him as well...

Something vibrates in his back pocket. His mobile.

It's Tanya.

El - Can u come? We're in room 7. Urgent

His blood turns cold. He glances at the kid's father, just sitting there at the bar, oblivious to all the things his spoiled brat might be doing.

No. Take a step back. Ellis doesn't know what's going on, either. For all he knows, the kid passed out or threw up all over the bed after downing that vodka coke in under five minutes. Skinny thing like that, it seems the more likely scenario. Tanya would kick his ass if he tried to get too frisky.

All the same, the "urgent" spooked him. "Hey," he says to the DILF. "I gotta step out for a second. Be good, okay." He winks at the dude, just for good measure, then half-jogs to the rooms, trying not to think about what he might find there. He's in no mood to clean up a spoiled ginger kid's sick today.

Tanya is waiting for him at the door, a wicked grin on her face.

Uh-oh. "What's so urgent?"

She just smirks.

"Tanya? What's going on?"

"I think the young man would prefer your company over mine."

"He... what?" Ellis looks around, bites his lower lip. "Shit. For real?"

"If you're up for it, that is."

He shrugs. Plays it cool, even though his cock twitches and swells already. "Yeah, guess so." He considers, before he adds, "But you owe me."

She throws back her head and cackles. "Like hell I do! You two have fun now." She starts walking away, then turns back, as if she just remembered something. "Be gentle, okay? I'm pretty sure it's his first time."

"Yeah. Sure," Ellis says to himself as Tanya rounds the corner and disappears from sight. "I can do that. Okay." He licks his lips and enters the room.

The kid's sitting on the bed, leaning backward, eyes wide. Damn, but he looks fine. A red-head -- Ellis doesn't think he's ever been with a red-head before. Sharp nose and chin, pale green eyes. A light smattering of freckles on his face. Some ginger fuzz on the spots he missed while shaving.

And that body... the kid's on the skinny side, it's true, but a lot of it is just ropey, trim muscles.

Ellis closes the door behind him. "Hey. 'Sup?"

The kid just nods. There's something else about him, too. He looks flushed, probably from the drink he had before. Since the kid was rude to him, Ellis was... overly generous with the vodka, and skimmed on the coke. Thinking back on it makes Ellis feel pissed off all over again, though, so he tries not to.

Just as Ellis tries to figure out what to say next, the kid unceremoniously whips out his dick. For a second, Ellis is taken aback. Speechless. Hypnotised by dick. It's fully erect, perfectly straight, smooth and longish; thin at the base, where it's surrounded by a thick patch of orange pubic hair, and getting thicker near the top. Ellis gets a glimpse of the purple head.

Fuck. He clears his throat. "... What exactly did Tanya tell you?"

"Who?"

"Ruby, I mean."

"Oh." The kid's staring at him. There's something about him, it's almost arrogance? It rubs Ellis the wrong way, somehow, and at the same time it makes him hard as a rock. "She didn't tell me anything, really. We were gonna do it, I told her I might be gay, she left and went to get you. So I figure..."

Ellis takes a step toward the bed. "You figure what?"

"I figure... you should suck my cock."

Tempting as it may be, Ellis can't help but laugh. "I think you've watched one too many porn movie, my dude."

The kid's face flashes red. Ellis can't tell if he's embarrassed or angry. "Ruby said it was already paid for."

Probably angry then. Hot twink or not, Ellis can't stand whiny entitled guys like this. "That may be, but I'm a bartender here. I don't get paid for... this kind of work."

The kid looks taken aback. Maybe Ellis misread the situation; maybe this really is some shy, virgin baby gay, and they just got off on the wrong foot.

"Look..." Ellis starts to say.

"It's my birthday," the kid blurts out at the same time.

"What's that? What did you say?"

"It's my birthday." Puzzled. "Why?"

Ellis takes another step closer. Tries not to stare too much at the guy's dick. It looks even better up close, but Ellis has a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What's your name?"

"Andrew." He's frowning now. "Why all the questions?"

"Andrew," Ellis says. "Let me guess, you go by Roo sometimes?"

"Yeah. What--"

"And your username online is roo99?"

Now the kid looks nothing short of panicked. "How would you--"

Slowly, deliberately, Ellis lifts his shirt--not taking his eyes off Andrew all the while. The kid's expression shifts from incomprehension to surprise to... what exactly? Shock? Sheer terror? Which is inadvertently hilarious, since he's still got his dick out.

"You're... You're him!" Andrew babbles. "Helios!"

"Yup."

"Oh my god. Oh my god, you... I've..."

Ellis shakes his head. "Save it, kid. I don't care." He takes one last look at Andrew, still sprawled out on the bed, then turns around and leaves the room.

What. The. Fuck. Just happened?

Andrew is stunned. He was here. Helios. Right here. In this room.

And then he left again? They were about to get down to it -- Roo was about to have his cherry picked by the guy he's been lusting after for months now, the guy who basically made him realise he's gay, and -- he left?

Andrew scrabbles to his feet -- almost falls on his face, pants around his knees and erect cock swinging around like a nightstick -- and hobbles to the door. Stuffs his dick in his waistband, pulls up his pants.

He's going after Helios.

Jeremy is pissing away his three beers. He's pleasantly buzzed -- not drunk, but getting there. Maybe the friendly bartender can make him a cup of coffee, or something, cause he's in no state to drive. Well, maybe Andrew will still be a while. He remembers his own first time here at the Cupid's Arrows... Ah, to be eighteen again -- an excess of stamina, but not necessarily longevity...

He's been spacing out; he shakes his head to clear it, and just now notices the guy at the urinal next to him. That's just bad etiquette. Everyone knows you leave one empty urinal, if you can. He glances at the guy: youngish, clean-shaven, dark hair, wearing a dark blue business suit. Kind of looks like a banker, or an investor.

Jeremy can't stand investors. He deals with them sporadically at the construction sites he oversees. Sometimes they're fine, sometimes they want to "get involved". Then they get in the way. They slow things down. They think they know better.

Bunch of jackasses, investors.

He's about to shake off and leave when he notices this particular investor (or banker or whatever) seems to be sneaking glances at his dick.

"'Scuse me buddy," he says. Roughly. Authoritatively. The way he'd talk to an incompetent foreman who bungled something or other and caused a delay. "Help you with something?"

And -- Jeremy's jaw almost drops -- the guy looks him in the eye. Then, very obvious, very deliberate, looks at Jeremy's dick. Then looks him in the eye again. "I sure hope so." He licks his lips and casually saunters to the furthest bathroom stall, goes in, and locks the door.

The stall with the glory hole.

The hell? Jeremy is nailed in place, trying to process what just happened and coming up blank. Just as he starts to question whether it really happened at all, the investor guy in the stall clears his throat. Still there. Waiting.

He can't believe this is happening, but... he's getting hard. "Little Jerr" is up for it. It's not even so much that it's another man -- Jeremy has a mental flash of himself stuffing his dick down the man's throat, of making him grovel and beg for it, in his fancy suit, wearing his nice shoes and his expensive cologne... Of holding the man's head in place as he slowly pushes his cock down the man's throat, inch by inch, and holding it in place for the guy to choke on... Of using his years of pent-up aggression and frustration with exactly this kind of person, the kind who thinks their money and fancy clothes make them somehow better or more deserving, well, he'll see how deserving he is when Jeremy's fucking his face, won't he, and...

He snaps out of it. His dick is rock hard. It's almost painful.

A shuffling sound from the bathroom stall. The guy is getting up again, maybe getting ready to leave.

Jeremy makes a decision.

He enters the stall next to the investor guy and closes the door behind him.

Andrew's dad, the DILF, is gone. The bar area is totally empty. Probably for the best. Ellis is so pissed, he might say something he'd regret later. And even if this Roo kid is as arrogant and rude as he's cute, and just the same as any other shallow guy who logs on just to see Ellis play with his dick, to see him as nothing more than a fucking object, a means to get off, the kid probably doesn't deserve Ellis spilling the beans to his dad.

Probably.

He doesn't even know who he's the most pissed off at. Tanya, for getting him in this mess? Andrew, for confirming Ellis' darkest thoughts, that all gay guys are just hollow and shallow, no matter how young and good-looking? Or himself, for forgetting his rules? Don't give anyone the power to hurt you, and you won't get hurt. Which basically means: don't care about anyone. He knows it's not fair to take it out on Tanya or on some kid he doesn't even know, but that doesn't change how he feels.

Shit, he can even hear Tanya in his mind, talking him down, telling him he shouldn't overreact like this. She'd be right, of course, but sometimes he needs to let his emotions run their course. Even if it means other people think he overreacts. He ducks under the counter, where his personal belongings are stashed during his shift, and rummages in his backpack. He emerges with a pack of cigarettes and drops it on the counter. Fishes out a cigarette and lights up, even though smoking on the job isn't allowed (and is technically illegal in here). He doesn't care. There's no one here to see him, anyway.

"Hey."

It's Andrew.

"You can't be back here. Employees only on this side of the bar."

The kid ignores him. "Look, I... I don't know what I did, or... I just wanted to tell you--"

Ellis takes a drag from his cigarette. Just seeing Andrew's lips move is giving him a boner, and he realises--he's pathetic. Always complaining to Tanya about how shallow and sleazy other guys are, when he's just the same. He sighs. "You didn't do anything. It's... I'm having a weird day, okay? Now leave me alone."

Hesitation shows clearly on Andrew's face. Red blots colour his cheeks. Is he getting angry? "No. I'm sorry, but--no. I won't leave you alone."

The kid's not angry. He's terrified. And yet, he's still talking to Ellis. And stepping closer.

"I don't know you," Andrew says. "I mean, I've watched you, sure. It feels like I know you, but I don't. I just know that... shit, I dunno. You make me feel..."

"Horny?" Ellis offers.

Andrew laughs, a nervous, breathy sound. "Fuck, yeah. I mean, I'm sure more guys have told you this but, damn, I thought I was straight until I saw you on cam."

Now Ellis laughs. "No, that's a first, actually. Thanks, I guess?"

"Sure." Andrew smiles, a smile that lights up his face. Ellis has to resist the urge to kiss him. They're almost face to face now, or at least they would be, if Ellis weren't standing almost a full head taller than Andrew. "And thank you, too, I guess... Or I'd still think I was into girls. It's just..." Andrew takes a deep breath, then blurts out, "I've never wanted anyone as much as I've wanted you." He looks down. "Oh. And I'm sorry about asking for a blowjob like that."

"S'all right." Ellis takes another drag from his cigarettes. "You can try and ask again later."

"Really?" The kid looks up at him and grins. "Because, actually..."

Something tugs on Ellis' belt. He looks down, sees Andrew's slim fingers fumbling with the buckle.

"Uh."

Andrew's brow creases in concentration. The tip of his tongue is visible sticking through his lips.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Andrew says, and gets down on his knees, attacking Ellis' belt with both hands.

"Whoa, kid, slow down." Ellis starts to reach down... and freezes. The DILF, aka Andrew's dad, just walked out of the bathroom. He's heading for the bar. Ellis whispers, "Seriously, this is not--"

Ellis' belt finally unbuckles. Andrew's hands make short work of the buttons and zipper; Ellis feels the kid's fingers against his skin -- warm, he's so warm -- as he hooks them in Ellis' boxers and pulls everything down, pants and all, in one swift movement. Ellis gasps as his penis, free from its constraints, bounces against Andrew's face.

"Hey, could you get me a coffee, please?"

"I... yeah, I'll get that for your in a minute." There's no way for the DILF to see his son from that side of the bar. Andrew's in the nook under the counter, hidden from view, and as long as Ellis doesn't turn or move no one can see his dick is hanging out. Something soft and warm touches the tip of his dick. He looks down, only to see Andrew looking up at him, tongue out and touching Ellis' cock. The visual is enough to almost send him over the edge. He takes a quick drag from his still smouldering cigarette.

"Oh, you're on your smoking break, I see," Andrew's dad says, oblivious. "Take your time."

"Yeah... thanks."

Another man, dressed in a navy blue suit, comes out of the bathroom. He makes a beeline for the booths surrounding the stage, not even once looking in the direction of the bar. Thank Christ.

Under the counter, Andrew takes Ellis' cock in his mouth and slowly starts moving his head back and forth. Ellis shudders. The kid's lips are wrapped around his dick very tight, and every time Andrew moves his head forward he tickles Ellis' glans with the tip of his tongue. "You're very good at this," Ellis mutters.

"Excuse me?" Andrew's dad was staring after the guy in the suit, but now he's focused on Ellis again.

"Oh... ohh... nothing." Ellis leans forward, elbows on the counter, bringing him almost face to face with Andrew's dad. Which, he's sure, must seem very weird to the man, but he can't help it since the dude's son is under the counter giving him such great head it's making his knees buckle. He surreptitiously sneaks a hand under the counter, running his fingers through Andrew's hair, which Andrew takes only as a sign to start moving faster. Fuck.

Andrew's dad looks at Ellis expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

Ellis nods towards the pack of cigarettes. "Want one?"

"Huh? Sure."

"Go ahead. Take one." Ellis gestures, unable to move. Well, that's not entirely accurate. He's moving his hips along in sync with Andrew's head, pushing his dick in a little deeper every time. He risks a glance down while Andrew's dad reaches for the pack of cigarettes. The kid's really going for it, saliva running down his chin. For a second, Ellis worries Andrew's dad will be able to hear the slobbering noises over the background music.

"I don't usually smoke," the DILF says. "Trying to set a good example for the kid."

"A... ahhh," Ellis says, nodding. He offers his lighter and tries to keep his hand from trembling.

"Thanks." Andrew's dad lights up, inhales. Lets out the smoke. "Damn. It's been a weird sort of day."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You know, sometimes you think you've got it all figured out, and then... life just happens, and it's messier than you thought it'd be? It doesn't fit the patterns you thought it should."

Ellis nods, not because he knows what on earth the man is talking about, but because he's bartender and that's what you do. At the same time he feels Andrew's hands cupping his ass, urging him to thrust deeper, deep enough to make him worry how the kid can even take it. He tries to keep his breathing regular in the hopes the DILF won't notice anything, but he's so fucking close...

And just like that, it's over. His dick, wet and engorged, is out in the air again. He chances another look. Andrew grins up at him and mouths something that looks a lot like "come on". And then he's gone, sneaking away behind the counter on hands and knees until he's out of sight. He winks at Ellis and walks back towards the rooms.

Oh.

Ellis grabs the pack of cigarettes and gets down on his haunches to put them away in his backpack--and to put his dick away in his pants again. When he resurfaces, he smiles at the DILF. "I'll get you that coffee now."

Andrew's heart is beating fast. That was sooo fucking hot. He sucked his first dick. He sucked Helios' dick.

He checks his phone. Where is Helios? It's been fifteen minutes already. His clothes are in a disordered pile next to the bed; he figured out how to dim the lights, left the door unlocked and really, really hopes none of the girls who work here think the room is free and walk in to find him on the bed, face down and ass up.

Almost absentmindedly he strokes his dick, the taste of Helios' pre-cum still in his mouth. He was so big. For a moment there, he was really sure he was going to choke on that dick. And he would've been okay with it, too.

Creak. Someone just came into the room.

Andrew glances over his shoulder, recognises Helios' bulk in the gloom. He thinks he can see Helios' eyes go wide. Good. Andrew smirks, lowers his face and arches his back.

Since he can't see much, he's more aware of the sounds in the room. The distant beat of the trance music in the distance. The click of the lock being turned. His own rapid, shallow breathing. Helios' footsteps approaching, the clinking of his belt buckle and the rustle as Helios quickly undresses and dumps his clothes on the floor as well. Neither of them speaks.

Then: hands cupping his ass. Strong fingers kneading his cheeks. They're rough, urgent. It hurts a little and sends shivers down his erect cock.

Smack!

Andrew lets out a gasp. The tingling sensation doesn't last long; Helios' fingers are back, kneading, massaging.

Another slap, harder this time. Andrew groans and at the same time hears Helios suck in his breath. Something hard and heavy falls on Andrew's tailbone, rubs back and forth. That dick he's so familiar with after months of watching it through his computer's screen, that dick he had halfway down his throat only moments ago.

The weight lifts and Andrew moans. He can't control the sounds he's making; he pushes his ass up and back, wanting to feel Helios' hard cock against it once more, but strong hands press him down and spread his cheeks.

Something soft and warm and wet touches his hole and he nearly loses it. "Oh..."

Helios' tongue moves up and down along his hole, enters it. Andrew squirms but Helios' hands hold him in place, push him down and keep his hole spread open. "Oh... oh, fuck, yeah..."

"Yeah?" Helios' voice is a breathy whisper. "You like that?"

"I do... oh... please... don't stop..."

Helios obliges, rimming Andrew's hole while kneading and squeezing his cheeks.

After a couple of minutes -- too soon, way too soon -- Helios pulls back. Something hard, something big presses against Andrew's hole. It's gentle but insistent. Andrew whimpers, "I don't know if I can take it." Even though he really wants to.

"Shh," Helios whispers. "Relax. Just the tip, all right?" While he talks, he keeps pushing -- then stops, pulls back a little, and pushes again. A little deeper.

"Nngh... fuck," Andrew gasps.

Helios shifts his body, but his dick keeps pushing into Andrew's hole. Slowly, gently, but inexorably. Helios moves again so that he's on top of Andrew; Andrew feels the man's hard body, his warm skin against his back, his weight pressing Andrew down. Andrew's breath comes in shallow gasps, and still Helios is sliding deeper inside him. "Shhh." Andrew feels Helios' lips grazing his ear, his hot breath on his face. "Fuck, Andrew, you're so tight..." Helios wraps his arms around Andrew so that he covers Andrew's body almost like a cocoon, and all the while, he keeps pushing. Andrew feels like he's filling up. It hurts, but not as much as he imagined it would; his instincts are to squirm away, but the weight of Helios' body is pinning him down to the bed. Each time Andrew thinks this is it, that he can't take any more, Helios pushes a little deeper -- and Andrew finds that yes, he can take more after all. He moans into the bedsheet while Helios nibbles at his ear, whispering all the while, "Shh, you're doing great... fuck, you feel so good..."

Then Helios starts to pull out, and the sheer sensation of it causes Andrew to gasp. Helios wraps his arms tighter around Andrew. A single drop of sweat rolls down Andrew's cheek; he feels like he's burning up, he can't move, he feels helpless and the safest he's ever been at the same time. Then Helios shifts his pelvis forward, and Andrew cries out in pain and ecstasy. Helios draws back again, slowly, and then thrusts again, a bit harder this time. And again. Soon, he's building up rhythm, while Andrew groans and moans, white spots dancing in his vision. Helios is whispering in his ear, and Andrew can't make sense of it at first, overwhelmed by the sensation of Helios pounding his ass.

"Fuck, Andrew... Roo..."

"Oh... Oh, fuck... me... fuck..."

"Yeah... You like this? You want it?"

"Oh... I... oh... oh..."

"Say it, Roo, fuck, say you want it..."

"I... ohh... yeah, fuck, I want it, I want it so bad..."

Helios growls, shifts his body, one hand grabbing hold of Andrew's hair and pulling his head back. Andrew opens his mouth to cry out, sweat and tears mixing on his cheeks, and Helios' mouth is on his, his tongue entering Andrew's mouth while his dick hits something deep inside Andrew's body, something he didn't even know was there, over and over again, faster and faster.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fffffuuuuu--"

Andrew shoots his load all over the bed, shivering and sweating, in a hands-free orgasm that seems to go on forever while Helios fucks his ass and holds him tight.

"Ngh, fuck... good boy, Roo..." Now Helios' breath becomes ragged and shallow as he picks up the pace, making Andrew cry out again. Then, Helios pulls out brusquely. "Oh, fuck, god, Roo..." He wraps one hand around his cock and starts pumping, while grabbing Andrew roughly by the shoulder with the other hand, turning him around so he's facing Helios -- or Helios' dick, more specifically.

"Shit, Roo, I'm gonna cum, I'm--" He presses his dick against Roo's mouth. Andrew opens up and Helios thrusts his dick inside immediately. Not a second later Andrew tastes hot cum on his tongue as Helios cums in his mouth. It just keeps coming; soon it's running down Roo's chin, dripping onto his body.

"Oh... oh... fuck me, Roo, that was... fuck." Helios reaches over, picks up a box of tissues from the floor next to the bed. He gently wipes off Roo's chin.

"So... Is that like... good or bad?" Roo says, trying to catch his breath.

Helios grins and moves in to kiss Roo. "You know," he says. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name's Ellis."

"I think... I like... Helios... better."

Ellis shakes his head. "I think I like you better when you have my cock inside you so you're not saying shit like that."

"Hey... give me like... ten minutes, and we can go again." Andrew considers. "Make it... twenty, maybe. To be sure."

Already Ellis is picking up his clothes. "Sorry, kid. I've got to get back to work."

"Oh."

Ellis leans over and pecks Andrew on the cheek. "But come see me anytime. Like I said, I'm the bartender. I don't charge for this."

"You look properly wiped out." Jeremy glances at the passenger seat, where Andrew looks to be dozing off. It's bittersweet, really -- reminds him of a simpler time, when Roo was just a toddler who'd fall asleep in the car too, and Jeremy would carry him inside as they got home and put him to bed.

Andrew yawns. "Guess I am."

"Had a good time then, did you?"

His son is silent for so long, Jeremy thinks he's fallen asleep for real. "Yeah," Andrew says finally. "Yeah, I did." Then, and without a hint of sarcasm. "Thanks, dad."

Jeremy laughs. "What's this? That Alice must've really done a number on you."

"Who?"

"Alice? The girl you were with? I ran into Ruby at the bar, asked her if you were about done, and she told me you preferred Alice's company." He ponders about that for a while. "Who is she? She a new girl there? I thought they were all supposed to have this silly names like Ruby and Sapphire and Emerald."

Andrew grins, and for a second Jeremy is sure he's done at least something right as a father today. "Yeah, dad. Alice was great." He lets out a contented sigh. "Sorry. It's been a bit of a weird day."

"Yeah," Jeremy sighs. "Tell me about it."

Hi! I'm Ryan, a writer of smut. I've decided to publish all my new stories for free online. Writing is hard and I'd like to do more of it; if you like my work and want to support my journey, consider donating on Ko-Fi or ordering a commission.

Alternatively, you can buy e-books of my stories for the price of a cup of coffee.