Pete’s Tavern | Story 1: Bryce’s Massage

ZACH POV

He’s the bartender at a pretty popular bar in my neighborhood called Pete’s Tavern. It has all the characteristics of a quintessential 19th century saloon, because that’s exactly what it is. With its black and white floor tiles, brass light fixtures, and massive, chest-high longbar made of solid mahogany, it’s warm and welcoming to say the least. All that charm aside, it’s an inviting, friendly place where you feel like you belong, even if you didn’t know a soul when you walked in.

I can’t tell you exactly why Pete’s is so inviting or so friendly. Maybe it’s the physical surroundings I just described, or that it’s always comfortably crowded, but never overly so. Or maybe it’s because it seems easier to strike up a real conversation with the guy on the barstool next to you, who might actually teach you a thing or two.

Maybe it’s the burgers and Italian sausages delivered by Jake the jock, the owner’s twenty year-old alleged nephew. Or it could be the libations served up by my friend the bartender. From Manhattans and Martinis, to Fuzzy Navels and Rusty Nails, Pete knows all the recipes without having to look any of them up.

Yup, my bartender friend at Pete’s Tavern is Pete. And he’s also the owner.

Good old Pete, who’s not old, but definitely good. Good at everything. For example, he knows how to make the perfect Moscow Mule in a copper mug. He’s good at telling jokes, even though most fall into the ‘dad jokes’ bucket. He’s good at history and particularly good at the history of New York City. He’s really good at trivia, especially sports trivia, and can tell you things like the day and time when Yankee pitcher Dave Righetti threw the legendary no-hitter against the Boston Red Sox. That and every other stat for the Yankees, Mets, Giants, Rangers, Knicks… you get the point. On top of that, he can tell you the realtime score of every NCAA basketball or football game on any given Saturday in season. Just ask him when you walk in next time.

And not only is Pete good at remembering names, he’s great at it. Better than that even, he’s a fantastic listener. He’s the kind of listener who makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room that matters. Like you’re a confidante or trusted, loyal friend.

And besides being good at things, Pete’s also good-looking. Not tall, five-eight or nine max, dark hair and thick, everywhere. As Jake says, he’s built like a tank, and handles like one too. Which reminds me, I still need to ask Jake how he’s come by that information about his uncle.

So yeah, Pete’s good at making you feel interesting and his good looks draw you in, so that’s why people open up to him and tell him things. All kinds of things and probably too much. But that’s how Pete gets the lowdown on everyone who walks through the door. Except for me, because if you know me you know I don’t talk much about myself at all. Except I did tell Pete one thing. And it’s that I write M/M erotica for fun in my spare time, and that’s what kind of started things off.

“You’d be surprised at the number of guys who walk in here and tell me about their… adventures. All of them, with men and women, everything. Well nothing with animals yet but I’m waiting for that.” He laughs and puts the glass he’s polishing on a low shelf under the bar and looks up at me. “And some of these stories are pretty wild.”

My ears perk up at hearing this, which is a bit of an understatement because my ears were not the only thing perking. This could be a virtual goldmine of information and so I reminded Pete I write M/M erotica. Pete just smiles at me again and says: “Well, you might want to hear this one about Bryce then.”

“He’s a regular, drinks bourbon, one rock, beer chaser,” says Pete. “And he’s usually got something to share with me about his latest escapade, or with whoever is sitting at the bar next to him. I don’t know what he does for work, I think he’s in re-insurance or something like that, but that’s not key to the story. What’s key is he plays rugby at Pier 40.”

I know about rugby at Pier 40 in Hudson River Park and have gone several times to watch both practices and matches. For obvious reasons.

“His club practices on Wednesdays and then their matches are on Saturdays. But last month, he had what he described as a pretty brutal practice which was pretty unusual for July and Summer Sevens…”

BRYCE POV

Bryce clenches his teeth in pain as he limps the last twenty feet of his trek to The Recovery Zone, a specialized “social wellness club” in SoHo. It’s a nice facility, built entirely around physical recovery, and what’s really great is it doesn’t require a membership to book an appointment. You just pay by individual service, à la carte.

Bryce is a regular here, like some other ruggers on his team and stops in once a week at minimum, mostly for the ice baths, sauna and massage services. All of which is exactly what his aging thirty-four year old body needs regularly after getting beat up for a few hours at Wednesday’s practices, and then majorly pummeled on Saturday afternoons for his games. Even at six-four, two hundred-forty pounds, the soft-tissue soreness and deep bruising, not to mention the stiff neck, linger well into the week these days, just in time for practice again on Wednesdays. And this time of year, during the summer, the play is supposed to be more casual and social. But not this summer, it’s been brutal.

Anyway, he’d pulled his hamstring during practice this particular Wednesday evening in question, and is in real pain, and is compounded by having to shuffle over from Pier 40, at least a third of a mile away. He’s in desperate need of relief. He needs a massage, and he needs it bad.

As he hobbles into the dimly lit lobby of the club, he’s instantly soothed by the scent of essential oils and aromatherapy candles, only to freeze when he catches sight of a guy behind the reception desk. He’s tall and olive-skinned, with long, thick, dark hair, and shoulders that are twice as wide as his waist. The tag on his smock says Luis and he welcomes Bryce with his dark eyes and long lashes that render the use of words unnecessary.

Bryce on the other hand, needs to use words and due to the momentary lapse in his brain can barely utter a single one.

“H-hello…”

ZACH POV

Pete pauses for a little sidebar here, to salute Bryce and the fact that a six foot four, hard-ass rugby player, opens with a stutter. “If you saw this guy, you’d never believe he’d be at a loss for words. But I have been Bryce… you have been Bryce… we have all been Bryce stuttering at a Luis, or at a Louise at one time or another.”

I agree with Pete but didn’t ask if it was a Luis or a Louise that he’d stuttered over. But I will in time.

BRYCE POV

Bryce’s voice is husky, half from the throbbing ache in his leg and half from that memory lapse in his brain. He pulls it together enough to get the next part out mostly because there is significant physical pain involved. “I think I pulled my hamstring… during rugby practice today… and I’m wondering if there’s someone here who can help me out.”

The man behind the desk introduces himself as Luis. With a Spanish accent, he tells Bryce he’s covering for the receptionist who had to step away for a few minutes, but will be right back.

“Alright… can I get a massage? I don’t have an appointment…”

Luis then instructs Bryce to go to therapy room six at the very end of the hall on the right, shower and get onto the massage table under the sheet, face down.

“Who’s gonna do my massage then?” asks Bryce.

“You’re in luck,” says Luis. “I am a masseur and I have a ninety minute opening right now.” He flashes a warm smile and nods. “I am happy to help you with your hamstring. Follow my instructions and I will be down in less than five minutes.”

ZACH POV

Another pause so Pete can serve up a few draft pilsners and when he comes back he says this: “So Bryce is kinda freaked out right at this point because he just felt a little tingle over Luis. You know, a guy, and Bryce doesn’t tingle over guys. At least not until that point. And he was laughing a little when he said it so I could tell what he was telling me was legit. And then he admitted he was actually excited that Luis was giving him the massage.”

Pete looks at me then, eyes wide and he laughs a ‘holy shit’. Because what Bryce told Pete next was that he hoped Luis would finish off the massage with a happy ending. Then Pete laughed again, and this time I did too.

BRYCE POV

So Bryce goes down the hall to therapy room six, the last door on the right, not really sure what to think, but he needs a good rub down so he tries to forget about whatever crazy shit he was just thinking.

It’s a small, cozy room with soft lighting and soothing spa music playing in the background. As he enters, Bryce notices that the air conditioning is off, making the room feel warm and slightly stuffy. There is a tiny, tiled shower stall in one corner so Bryce strips down and takes a quick shower to rinse off the grime he’s accumulated at practice.

Out of the shower he takes a rolled towel off a spa bench and dries himself. In another corner of the room there’s a mirror over a small sink and Bryce catches his reflection.

Pretty jacked, he thinks, and he isn’t wrong. His thick neck flares out into heavy traps and broad, boulder shoulders. Dark hair mats across full pecs, tapering down over a partial six-pack to a dense but well-maintained bush. His super-solid quads and ass are his real pride and joy, and are the reasons he can still hold his own on the pitch despite being an old man.

He towels his dark brown hair dry and looks back at the mirror to do a quick inventory of his face: light brown eyes, straight white teeth, a solid smile framed by well-kept scruff with great coverage. Not too bad he thinks. Actually, I’m pretty fucking hot.

Then he towels off his package, an impressive eight inches that he’s pretty happy with. When it’s sufficiently dry, he lays face down on the massage table as Luis had instructed.

As he settles in he tries to ignore the sweat that’s already starting to pool in the small of his back. But less than a minute later Luis enters the room and moves to the end of the table above Bryce’s head. Then he feels a large, warm hand land between his shoulder blades. It presses down firmly and holds there for thirty seconds.

“Good. Are you ready to get started?”

Bryce grunts affirmation and Luis pulls the sheet down off Bryce’s shoulders and folds it back just above his asscrack. Luis tucks the sheet under his hips on both sides then moves back to the end of the table above his head. Luis’ cock can’t be more than two inches from his head, and for some reason that’s all Bryce can think about and his own cock jumps.

Luis starts the massage by rubbing warm oil onto Bryce’s back, slowly moving around his shoulders and traps, rubbing the oil into his tired muscles. The pressure is perfect as fingers knead into his flesh. Large hands massage his neck and traps, then run down his spine and quickly back up.

Luis steps to Bryce’s left side, concentrating next on his delts, then over and around his lats, and back up to the delts. Kneading, massaging and releasing the tension all along the way.

“Pressure is good?” Luis’ voice is barely a whisper.

“Fer-fect,” is all Bryce can manage with his face smashed into the face cradle. His muffled answer is followed by a low moan.

Luis moves to Bryce’s right side, and repeats the process: a focus on his delts, then over and around his lats, and back up to the delts. More kneading, massaging and releasing of Bryce’s built-up tension.

Bryce shifts a bit on the table to accommodate his dick that suddenly seems to have its own ideas about where this massage is going. Luis moves back to the head of the table, cock two inches from Bryce’s head again, and starts using a forearm across Bryce’s back, running it up and down, applying pressure to both shoulders and adding emphasis with his elbow where it’s needed.

Bryce had noticed the dark hair on Luis’ dense, corded forearms when he came in and as Luis uses them across Bryce’s back, the sensation is electric on his skin. He hears another moan fill the room then realizes it’s coming from somewhere deep within his chest.

The room feels warmer and Bryce can feel a few drops of Luis’ sweat drip onto his back while forearms extend down towards his ass. Firm pressure, hands reaching, and that’s when Luis’ cock starts bumping into the top of Bryce’s head.

“That’s good,” says Luis. But Bryce isn‘t sure it’s a question, so he just grunts to let Luis know that yes, that’s good. What Luis doesn’t know is that the grunt also means that Bryce likes the feel of Luis’ sweat dripping on his back and Luis’ cock bouncing off the top of his head.

“Which hamstring is injured today?” asks Luis.

“Rite-te-sside,” mumbles Bryce.

Luis moves to Bryce’s right side and pulls the sheet down further, exposing more of his furry ass. More oil gets spread and Luis continues running forearms and hands up and down his right side.

Then Luis steps slightly closer to Bryce’s ass. He feels the sharp edge of Luis’ elbow drive into his glutes, and then lower into his hamstrings on the back of his right thigh. A shock of pain and relief courses through his whole body and Luis works his right hamstring for several minutes. Then to his left side and Luis repeats the whole process, though less time is spent on the uninjured hamstring.

Then Luis is back at the head of the table, except now the concept of personal space seems to be abandoned. Bryce can feel Luis’ cock against his head again, but now it’s not spongy, it’s rock hard. He’s sure Luis knows Bryce can feel it as Luis leans over him, hands running over his shoulders and down over his lumbars. Back and forth, back and forth, dick bump, dick bump.

So here he is, Luis leaning over him, hands reaching down as far as they can go, arms extended down to his ass cheeks, with a hard cock pressed firmly against Bryce’s head. As a guy, he should be nonplused by all that’s going on here, maybe even slightly repulsed. But something else has happened and his dick has completely stopped jumping at this point. And that’s because in this instance Bryce has a full-on, diamond-cutting brick of a boner smashing into the massage table underneath him.

ZACH POV

So I’m on the edge of my seat with my mouth gaping open, when we have to pause again. Pete refills the pilsners and mixes up a few Manhattans, a cosmo and a triple vodka rocks, no fruit. The last one is for me.

But he’s back in no time with some choice nuggets to drop.

“Two things happen next that change the course of this therapy session,” says Pete, and he does air quotes on the words therapy session.

“First Bryce does something he claims was out of character for him. And that is, he turned his face to the side so that Luis’ cock was now driving into his cheek instead of the top of his head. That’s the first thing.

And the second is that Luis’ hands, which had been running all the way down to Bryce’s lower back, had finally reached Bryce’s butt cheeks. And his fingers were starting to explore.”

After I pick myself up off the floor, I calmly ask Pete to continue the story.

BRYCE POV

Both of Luis’ hands dip lower on Bryce’s back. All the way down this time and both landing firmly on his butt cheeks. The sheet gets pushed further off his ass and hands are kneading and squeezing now, running circles on Bryce’s two firm orbs. Meanwhile, Luis’ stiff member is thrusting into the side of Bryce’s face, filling his nose with the scent of musk and Axe Dark Temptation body spray.

As Luis continues to work on Bryce’s glutes, the heat in the room is becoming heavy, almost wet. Luis’ fingers keep wandering dangerously close to the crack of Bryce’s ass and Bryce can feel Luis’ breath on his skin as the masseur leans in close to reach his ass muscles and work them. Sweat running is off Luis onto his back and that’s what he’s focused on when Luis slips a finger between his ass cheeks, just for a quarter of a second, but enough that it causes Bryce to let out a sharp gasp. And then Luis does it again, and then a third time.

“So hot,” whispers Bryce, out of his choked throat.

“You’re right,” says Luis. It is too hot. I will take off the sheet.” And in one swift motion Luis is around the table, the sheet’s stripped off and tossed aside. Bryce’s hairy, muscle ass is now completely exposed. With any covering gone, a shiver runs down his spine. Luis’ hand lands on his ass cheek and remains in place there for several long seconds. Neither of them moves a muscle.

“The air conditioning is broken in this part of the club today. I am sorry it’s so hot. Do you mind if I remove my smock?”

Bryce feels his skin prickle and he’s not sure if it’s the heat or being completely naked in front of Luis. Or the thought of seeing Luis without a shirt. Bryce has never had a super strong desire to see another guy without a shirt, but today seems full of surprises so he decides to go with it.

Propping himself up to answer Bryce turns around just as Luis pulls the unbuttoned smock down over broad, sinuous shoulders. Luis’ skin is dark and flawless, stretched taut over chest and stomach muscles that ripple with perfection, before narrowing to a tight waist that’s a statement on its own.

He’s not jacked like I am, thinks Bryce. But holy fuck he is superior.

Luis is mostly smooth except for the black hair on his forearms and moderate coverage distributed evenly across his well-defined pecs.

Nothing like the pelt I’m sporting.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty intense in here,” says Bryce, referring to the heat. He realizes how that sounds only after he says it.

Luis tosses the smock aside and turns his attention back to Bryce. “Lay down and relax,” Luis says, pushing Bryce’s shoulders back down. The large hand remains on Bryce’s back after he’s flat and then he feels Luis’ breath on his neck. A low voice next to his ear, deep and seductive, says: “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you...”

What happens next, happens fast. Luis moves down to Bryce’s left side and spreads oil on his glutes and quads. Then strong hands run over and around the fibrous muscle, up and down, curious fingers sliding through his butt cheeks, slick with oil. Aside from his asscrack Luis pays special attention to Bryce’s right hamstring, kneading the muscles on the back of his thigh and applying firm pressure with thumbs and fingers at key myofascial trigger points.

More oil.

The pain is intense but the touch is energizing, so Bryce is moaning and groaning and purring like a giant kitten in Luis’ hands. Hands that are everywhere and moving fast. Over his quads, then down to his calves, circling around his glutes. Pushing, kneading, rubbing. Fingers slide between his cheeks into his crack, brushing against his hole repeatedly, up and down, up and down.

Luis continues to concentrate on his work, sweat trickling onto Bryce’s lower back, glutes and legs. “You have big quads,” says Luis. “Very big and very impressive. I like massaging big muscles.”

ZACH POV

Pete has to take a pause again to take care of a group of college age guys who seem to know Jake, but he’s too young to serve. Draft AlphaBeer all around so he’s back in no time and jumps right back in.

“Needless to say, my boy Bryce has an out-of-control rager burning beneath him that’s starting to leak everywhere that he’s got to somehow tamp down before he turns over. But that pretty much goes out the window because of what Luis does next.”

The visual of me that comes to mind is a buzzard hanging over a dumpster outside a meat processing plant on a hot day. Talk about leaning-in.

So Pete keeps going. “Luis goes around to the back of the table, grabs both of Bryce’s ankles and spreads his legs further apart. And to hear Bryce tell it is priceless. Something about having the candyshop’s full inventory on display so Luis can pick whatever treat he wants to devour first.”

Pete and I both laugh.

“And then out of nowhere, Luis climbs up on the table and kneels between Bryce’s legs.”

That’s when I have to excuse myself and take a few minutes for my own physical recovery. When I get back to my barstool, I see a fresh vodka rocks awaiting my return. Pete is so good at his job.

BRYCE POV

The heat and craving in the room is palpable. Bryce is spreadeagle on the table and between his legs is Luis getting situated. Luis spreads more oil over Bryce’s quads and glutes, and then starts to massage Bryce’s butt cheeks.

After a bit Luis leans forward and applies pressure to Bryce’s lower back, slick hands then run up over his lats, reaching all the way up to his traps at the very top. The hands rest there briefly, kneading his shoulders, gripping them firm, then gliding back down to his ass.

On the fourth such run, as Luis extends his arms to reach up to Bryce’s shoulders, Bryce feels hot breath near his asscrack. His own breath stops. A few more strokes, up and back, up and back, and he feels it again. And after a few more up and backs, just as Bryce exhales, there’s scruff in his crack and a tongue probing into his hole… and then it’s gone.

Holy shit, shit, shit…

A few more strokes up and down and Bryce exhales again. But on the third run the scruff is back and now Luis’ hands are gripping his ass cheeks and a mouth is buried deep in his crack and there’s a tongue that’s not being shy at all. Rapid fire stabs of a tongue are followed by long, sloppy licks, that start low on his taint and slowly move up, flat and wide, covering the entirety of Bryce’s puckered hole.

Fuck… what the hell is this…

Well, Bryce obviously knows what this is, and he decides he likes it. So he starts to moan and then can’t stop. His shoulders bunch and toes curl, while his hands move to the edges of the table with an iron grip. Luis’ whole face is in his ass now, tongue probing wildly into his tight sphincter. Then it goes wide and flat, licking and slurping all of the juices out of his hot sweaty asshole. Bryce moans and grips the table harder which is when Luis tells him to stop.

“Relax, you are too tense,” says Luis. “Stop grabbing. You have to let go or this massage will not help you.”

Bryce releases his grip on the table and drops his shoulders, and Luis returns to feasting on Bryce’s ass, with hands firmly spreading his cheeks and a probing tongue that works his hole like it’s the last hole on earth.

Luis’ mouth pauses but the fingers are still running all over Bryce’s cheeks, thumbs moving in and out of his crack. After several minutes the scruff is back and buried deep into his butt, and Bryce never wants it to end.

“You mother-fucker... that’s it… right there.” The words grind out of Bryce’s mouth like wet gravel pouring out of a cement mixer. “That’s it... you fucking god… you mother-fucking ass sucking god…”

The air in the room is gloppy with the smells of sweat and sex, and the noise of Bryce’s moans. His hips start to buck against Luis’ face as he tries to get closer to the source of the curious tongue. Bryce’s cock is pulsing and beyond rock-hard, drenching the massage table sheet with precum. And that’s when Luis tells him to flip over.

So Bryce slowly rolls over onto his back and his cock is pointing straight at the ceiling looking every bit its eight proud inches. He looks at Luis and their eyes lock, and then he knows with certainty what is going to happen next.

He grips Luis’ forearms and pulls him close until they are face-to-face. Bryce can see his own eros reflected in Luis’ dark eyes, so he grabs Luis by the neck, long, dark hair tangled in his hands, and he draws Luis into a kiss that is deep entirely out of Bryce’s control.

For five full minutes they kiss and when Bryce disengages, Luis stands up and pushes the hair back from his face.

“Suck my nipples,” says Bryce. His breath is short and lips engorged. “Get down here and suck ‘em, Luis.”

And so Luis starts circling the areolas around Bryce’s nipples, moving in slow, gentle strokes with just the tips of his fingers to lightly brush the sensitive skin. He’s barely brushing the skin, running in concentric circles, his fingers close but not touching Bryce’s erect nipples directly.

Bryce’s breath is heavy and deep, abdominal muscles locking and releasing slightly with every circle Luis makes around erect nips. Bryce looks down at his cock and can see it bobbing with anticipation, a silver strand of precum streaming from the tip down to his stomach, a small pool guttering in his belly button. His eyes move to Luis and Luis sees it too. Luis leans down, slurps up the precum and then puts his mouth on Bryce’s dick and gets right down to business.

ZACH POV

“Why suck on some nipples when you can suck on a prime piece of meat?”

Wait! WTF! Did I just hear Pete say that? Holy shit!

And then Pete laughs. “Those were Bryce’s words,” he says, “And he also said the thing about guys being better cocksuckers than girls… it’s 100% true…” He stops and glances over at Jake’s college buddies who are now totally tuned-in to our conversation, mouths agape at the stuff coming out of Jake’s uncle’s mouth.

“Let me get you guys another round,” Pete says to them. And he does. And he also sends them over to the dart board hoping it will keep them occupied until Uncle Pete can share the full story with Jake later. With context, because context matters.

BRYCE POV

“Mmmm...” Bryce moans, and his hips involuntarily thrust forward. “Goddammit you are a good cocksucker... holy fuck, you are…”

As Luis continues to suck and deep-throat Bryce’s shaft without effort, he can feel himself priming to blow. That’s the last thing he wants right now, it’s way too soon, So he pushes Luis’ head away from his cock, and it’s abrupt.

“What’s wrong?” asks Luis. “You don’t like that?”

Both men are sweating profusely, their bodies shiny in the dim lighting of the therapy room. The scent of their combined musk permeates the air and it’s exhilarating to Bryce. He can’t remember feeling this consumed during sex before in his life and while he’s all-in, he’s also a bit overwhelmed.

“I want you to play with my ass now,” he says to Luis. “With your fingers.”

Without a word, Luis lubricates his fingers and begins to tease Bryce’s hole, one finger to start, probing slowly inside and stretching him open. Bryce groans from the pressure as Luis’ finger breaches his tight entrance. Once inside, the brave finger finds its way around, probing into corners and occasionally nudging up against his prostate. The sensation is heady and intoxicating.

Then Luis slides in a second finger, with much less resistance this time, so a third finger quickly follows. And Bryce takes it like a champ. He’s actually surprised at how easy they go in and out, and as Luis’ fingers work their magic, something deep inside Bryce spikes to the surface. He’s never been with a man before, but at this moment, all he wants is to feel Luis’ hardness inside him. His entire focus narrows into a single impulse and the urge to just lie back and let Luis use his body however he wants.

“Fuck me,” Bryce growls, his voice still gravely. “I need to feel what it’s like to have a fat cock inside me… right now.”

Luis doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and quickly sheds his pants, revealing the rest of his lean, muscular body. His cock is thick and long, and it juts out from his trimmed bush like an arrow ready to be launched. Bryce’s throat seizes as he takes in the sight of this beautiful naked man standing in front of him.

Luis moves to the front of the massage table and grips Bryce’s ankles, pulls him towards the edge and spreads his legs extra wide.

“Lift your bottom up,” says Luis. And with Luis’ hands under his cheeks Bryce hikes up his ass and redistributes his weight to his upper back and shoulders. And that gives Luis’ raging cock a straight shot into his primed asshole.

There’s a pause as Luis looks down. Bryce’s heart races faster when he sees the intensity in Luis’ dark eyes, and he licks his lips nervously. Then, with a single powerful stroke, Luis plunges himself deep into Bryce’s ass, burying a full nine inches all the way to the hilt.

Bryce cries out in pain and shock; the force of it is almost too much to bear. But with a few thrusts of Luis’ hips, the pleasure overrides the pain, the friction and being filled to the brim by Luis’ pulsating cock is like nothing he’s ever experienced. As Luis finds a rhythm, withdrawing the head and then driving forward again, Bryce collapses into the control that is being exerted over his entire body.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, along with the grunts or moans emanating from both men. Luis leans over Bryce, palms flat on Bryce’s pecs, pushing down hard, hips moving faster and harder now. It’s as if Luis can’t get deep enough into Bryce’s tight heat and so the pace accelerates. He sees Luis look down and smile at the sight of Bryce’s cock flopping around aimlessly on his stomach now, precum splattering everywhere. And while this is happening Bryce has the uncontrollable urge to touch every inch of Luis’ body so his hands are everywhere now: forearms, biceps, abs and chest, gripping, kneading and massaging everything.

As their bodies slam together, there’s desperate chaos unraveling in Bryce that he feels in Luis too, a determination and a need to satisfy the other, no matter what it takes.

The heat and humidity in the room peaks and the smell of sweat and sex creates the most hypnotic atmosphere Bryce has never known. He looks up at Luis and his eyes take in the masseur’s flawless face. He is literally drowning in Luis’ masculinity as Luis fucks his ass. He’s completely immersed in this man’s dominance; it’s almost as if he’s trying to pull Luis inside of his own skin.

And then, just when Bryce thinks he can’t last any longer, Luis leans down and kisses him, in a fierce, demanding collision. As their tongues tangle together Luis bites down sharply on Bryce’s lower lip, forcing his mouth open and Luis claims it, savagely.

The world around them fades into nothingness with only the two of them connected by flesh and the frantic energy that exists between them. They are lost in each other in this singular moment, bodies moving and minds surrendering. And then the final barrier snaps and everything utterly unravels for both of them at the same time. They are locked together, bodies shuddering, chests heaving and Bryce feels the heat of Luis’ emission filling up his insides while his own cum shoots out of him with a velocity that even surprises himself. Six, seven, eight spurts of thick, hot jism explode out across his stomach, chest, neck and even his own forehead.

Then Luis collapses on top of Bryce, sweat drenched and still gasping for air. Bryce is exhausted and completely rung out, but strangely satisfied, and even with Luis’ cock is still inside of him he can’t believe what’s happened over the last 60 minutes. His ass just got destroyed by another man and as he lays there with Luis splayed out on top of him, he realizes he’s crossed a threshold.

ZACH POV

“Need a refill?” Pete’s looking at me with his eye brows raised and his head tilted.

I look down and my third vodka rocks glass is empty. Dammit, I hate when that happens. But I tell Pete to hold up because he hasn’t finished the story.

“Yeah, that’s the end,” he says. “He said that he would never forget the feeling of being taken by Luis.”

I stare at him like a ten-year-old kid who’s just had his iPad taken away at Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s.

“That’s where Bryce ended it. Said he would remember this day as the hottest, most intense experience of his life, and it had nothing to do with the broken air conditioner.”

“But wait. What about Luis?” I ask. “And Bryce… he just crossed the Rubicon… was he going to stay there? Did they see each other again? What about his hamstring? And how does Bryce know what Axe Dark Temptation body spray smells like?”

“Well Bryce’s girlfriend showed up then and they left. So I guess those questions will go unanswered. But there are other stories, plenty of others. And I’d be happy to share a few more of them next time you’re here at Pete’s Tavern.”

This story was actually provided by a loyal paid subscriber to The Studio: After Dark. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. DM me for details if you want Pete to share your story.