Evan J. Xavier - Back Alley Sex.pdf - Evan J. Xavier - terranova.books

Back Alley Sex (Sin City Gay Erotic Tales)

Evan J. Xavier

Published: 2011

Categorie(s): Fiction, Erotica, LGBT, Gay, Short Stories

Tag(s): "gay erotica" "gay sex" "las vegas" erotica "gay fiction" "erotic

short stories" "aggressive sex"

Back Alley Sex

(Sin City Gay Erotic Tales)

Evan J. Xavier

Published by Purple Fig Press

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook

may not be reproduced in any form without expressed, written consent

from the author.

This material features depictions of explicit erotic hot man on man sex.

It is intended for a mature audience.

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Back Alley Sex

He approached as I left BB, a popular local hangout in downtown Las

Vegas. He was in line waiting to get in with the other hopefuls. I noticed

him as I headed in hours ago. He shot me a quick eye-rape as I entered

the club. He was easy on eyes in a non-pretty boy kind of way. I told my-

self if he made it in I’d give him a taste. He never did.

"Where ya headed?" he said as he ran over, blocking the cab door with

his muscular arms.

"What's it to you?" I said as I turned, checking out his tall frame that

towered over me, 6’6” of solid man.

"It's early, how about we go in and have some fun. Come on it's my

last night here and I want to at least dance with the hottest guy in Ve-

gas." He shot me a smile with the whitest teeth I'd ever seen. His eyes

were a piercing chestnut brown with a very determined chin. I was

turned on by his straight forwardness; I liked that in a guy.

"How old?" I asked.

"Does age matter to you?"

"I wouldn't have asked if it didn't, now would I?" I moved his arm

from the cab door. I wasn’t going to wait until he decided to give me a

straight answer. A worried look flashed across his face. It was the look of

a man who knew the wrong answer could ruin any chances of scoring.

"Twenty-six," he said hurriedly, flashing a weak smile. His eyes told

the story of a liar.

"Too young baby, I like my men with a little hair on their chest." As the

driver prepared to leave, there was a knock on the window. I rolled

down the window and he rested his arm on the door, leaning into the

frame.

"I lied ok. I'm 37. Here's my driver's license as proof," he handed me

his worn leather wallet.

"Jon Verne, 6549 Country Lane Road, Atlanta, GA, 6'6", brown eyes,

240 pounds, Organ donor—good for you." He opened my door expecting

me to get out. It was very presumptuous of him.

"Come on, let’s have some fun," he said as he motioned his head to the

entrance.

It was only two in the morning; the night was still young and I didn’t

have my man meal for the night so I was down to take a chance. As we

walked through the entrance I gave Billy, the doorman, a wink and

tipped him just as I had earlier. "Coming back for seconds, Ian?" he said

nodding over to Jon.

"The poor man’s come a long way, it’d be impolite not to show him a

good time," I said as I took Jon's hand, leading him through the entrance

into the groans of the people standing in line.

We were greeted with complimentary Apple Martinis and asked if we

wanted manicures. This is BB's signature service. They do know how to

treat their guests. I’d already enjoyed a manicure earlier so I looked over

to Jon; he quickly shook his head. "It's all part of the experience," I said,

tugging his arm and leading him to the table. I plopped him down in the

service chair. "Now sit, and enjoy your mani," I said, leaving him to the

manicure mistress. Jon was hard headed. He attempted to leave the

manicurist, but she shot back a look that could strike fear in any man or

woman.

“You better sit your sexy ass down now,” she said with a southern

drawl as she placed his hand in water.

***

The big draw of BB to locals and tourist is its uniqueness. It doesn’t

have all the trappings of glamor and lights that Vegas is known for, but

it does have the sinful factor that everyone loves. BB is decked out as an

old fashioned beauty salon, complete with vintage hair drying stations,

barber chairs, and a bar covered in shag carpeting. The bar is completely

stocked and the bartenders can whip up anything you could ever ima-

gine. I once ordered a Long Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against a Cold

Hard Wall with a Kiss at the recommendation of Bobby, the bartender.

The drink was amazing but his cock was delicious.

I watched Jon over at the manicure station. He looked uncomfortable;

I could tell he was still new in the gayberhood. Like many that come to

Vegas, he was here likely on business and decided to go all out and cash

in on some repressed desires, thinking no one would know back home.

It’s an easy, quick release. It's the same tale I hear every single night from

White, Black, Latino, even Asian men. I was still new to Asians – man

could they fuck. I never had a thing for Asians until I met big dick Cee.

He was visiting and he caught my eye at a First Friday event. He DJ'd on

the side and took part in a competition at BB. He could spin the 1s and 2s

and my ass like no other.

***

Waving down the barkeep for a refill on my appletini, I felt a package,

a stranger's package press against my backside.

“Don’t turn around,” the deep voice commanded. I could feel his

breath on the back of my neck. I took a sip of my appletini and rocked

along with him as he ground up against me, swaying my hips to the

music.

“You dance with strangers so freely?” he said as he wrapped his arms

around my waist, still pulling me into him. My back arched so that my

ass met his center.

“Only for you Jason,” I said, turning around and meeting the faux

stranger’s eyes. “Long time no see.”

“Yes, It has been a long time,” he said as he placed his lips against my

forehead.

"Well just a few weeks," I replied, looking into his deep almond

bedroom-eyes.

I turned to order another round of drinks.

“I’m buying,” Jason said as he passed the bartender his credit card to

open a tab. Jason and I met about two years ago when he first moved to

Las Vegas.

Six months ago he broke up with his longtime girlfriend of four years.

Their relationship was pretty open. He fucked guys and she fucked girls.

It was a relationship of convenience to keep up appearances. Both were

lawyers for high powered firms and didn't want anyone finding out

about their ultra-private lives. She basically dumped him for a younger,

more successful ‘female’ lawyer.

“I saw you come in with that guy over there,” Jason said with an edge.

“Yeah, he begged me to come in with him. I think he just wanted to

get in. Isn’t he cute in a newbie kind of way?”

Jason was the jealous type. We hooked pretty regularly, so regularly I

stopped returning his calls. It started to get too relationship focused for

me. I wasn’t ready for one, and Jason was still on the rebound. One thing

he didn't like was me having sex with other guys. He thought I was his

and only his. No matter how many times I tried to explain it, he couldn't

understand where I was coming from. That, I didn't understand. Maybe

he didn't want to understand. So I just stopped returning his calls, think-

ing he'd get the idea.

Jason grabbed his drink, downing it in one shot, slamming it on the

counter and signaled for another. He was a man’s man. He didn’t play

games and he played hard. You’d never know it by looking at him, but

he’s 42 and built like a linebacker. I affectionately call him Daddy. He

likes that, says it turns him on.

“Seems kind of young for your taste," he said, scowling.

“Yeah, but it’s good to try different parts of the chicken," I said, trying

to turn his frown into a smile with my fingers. I was a little tipsy. Jason

tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably.

“And what part of the chicken am I?” he asked as he downed his

second drink.

“You’re the best part, the dark meat,” I said, giving him a slap on the

ass.

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