Текст книги "Every Frat Boy Wants It"

Автор книги: Todd Gregory

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Chapter 5

-ell of a party, huh?" Blair grinned over at me.

. "Uh-huh." I collapsed on the gigantic bed, wasted out of my mind. I'd been smoking pot and drinking beer all day, and the bed felt incredible. My mind was still kind of spinning from everything that had happened since we'd gotten to Los Angeles the day before.

I still couldn't believe I was in Los Angeles-Beverly Hills, to be exact. It had taken us four hours to get down the highway from Polk to the big city-and Blair had laughed at me constantly that first day. "Close your mouth, you're gonna draw flies," he kept saying over and over as he drove me through Hollywood, showing me the landmarks I'd dreamed of when I was growing up in Kansas. After showing me around there, he had veered up Santa Monica Boulevard and taken me into West Hollywood-"WeHo," he'd called it, "the gayest place in Southern California." And he wasn't kidding. It seemed like everywhere I looked I saw beautiful gay men, holding hands, sitting outside coffee shops, waiting in line to get into restaurants, or just walking along the sidewalk. He took me to a gay bookstore called A Different Light, and showed me books and magazines I'd never dreamed existed. He introduced me to the manager, a hot man wearing tight jeans and a tank top, with a ripped body covered with tattoos. He bought me dinner at a restaurant a few blocks away, and the waiter was one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen. After he'd taken our order and left us, I said as much to Blair.

"Probably an actor," Blair shrugged. "Beautiful men are a dime a dozen down here."

I want to live here, kept running through my mind over and over again. Once I get my degree, I am moving down here.

And after dinner, he drove me up to a huge beautiful building in Beverly Hills, where we were let in by a security guard. The house was like a Moorish castle, with fountains spread out all over the lawn, and massive palm trees casting shade here and there. "Welcome to my dad's," Blair said as he parked the car. "We have the whole place to ourselvesDad's in Prague making his latest epic movie."

He showed me through the house-which looked like a museum. I couldn't keep my mouth shut-drawing flieson the tour. There were at least ten bedrooms, and from Blair's bedroom a set of French doors led to a balcony that overlooked an Olympic sized pool, surrounded by columns and marble statuary. As I stood out there, on that starry night looking out over the lights of the city of Los Angeles spread out below me, I felt tears coming to my eyes.

Blair put an arm around me. "Being Steve Blanchard's son has its perks, huh?"

"How-how could you live in the Beta Kappa house after living here?" I finally managed to stammer out. "My parents' whole house could fit in your bedroom."

Blair sparked a joint and passed it to me. "A bit of an ex aggeration, which I've noticed you're prone to. It's rather endearing, though, my friend." He shrugged. "I've been in boarding schools, too, you know, so having a cubicle of a room isn't a big deal to me. And besides, Mom's house in London is pretty small. All this"-he made a sweeping motion with his arms, taking in the house and the grounds"overwhelms me a bit from time to time. A rather vulgar and ostentatious display of wealth, as my mother would say."

"Yeah, well, I could learn to like it." I took a deep hit and passed the joint.

"Eh." He made a face. "It's not as much fun as it looks. When Dad's here"-he pointed to the wall that ran around the grounds-"there's always the paparazzi outside the gates, or hanging in the trees trying to get pictures. That sucks." He laughed. "I used to moon them every once in a while, just to see if they'd print it since I was underage. They didn't-because Dad would have charged them with kiddie porn." He sighed. "Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and famous aren't what they're cracked up to be, are they?"

We stayed up late, smoking another joint and drinking a bottle of wine from his father's wine cellar-he told me the name and year, but it meant nothing to me-before falling into bed together. When he told me we'd both sleep in his room, I wondered if this was the night it would happenbut it didn't. Blair stripped down to his black Versace underwear, climbed into bed and rolled over onto his side. I lay there for a while, listening to him breathe, watching his back and wanting so desperately to reach out and touch him, to put my arms around him, cuddle up with him. Instead, I turned onto my side with my back to him and fell into a restless sleep.

"I think we're going to have a party tonight," Blair said, waking me up the next morning with a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel smeared with cream cheese. He'd already showered and put on a pair of shorts.

I sat up and took a bite of the bagel. "A party?"

"Yeah." He smiled at me. "I can get my dad's caterer to deliver some food and liquor, and I can call up some people I know-we can have an impromptu pool party. Swim suits required." He leered at me. "I have a bikini you can borrow. Besides, you need to meet some gay people, I think."

"A bikini?" I stared at him. "Oh, no, Blair, I don't think-"

"Gay or bi or confused or whatever it is you are, you need to stop being ashamed of your body," he said, getting up and opening the French doors. Bright sunshine spilled in, a few wispy clouds danced slowly across an azure blue sky. "It's a perfect day for a pool party-and if you don't wear a bikini, you'll be the only one. Finish your food and get out of bed."

I did as I was told, gulping down the bagel in a few bites and washing it down with the coffee, which was good and strong. A little nervously, I got out of the bed. He looked at me critically. "Nice." He smiled. "The tan line needs work-but I know what we can do about that."

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, looking down at my legs.

"Your tan line stops about an inch or so above your knees." He shook his head. "That's a very Kansas-boy tan line. But then again," he folded his arms, raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side, "that's exactly who you should be at the party."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Oh, yes." He walked over to a dresser, pulled open a drawer and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a bright red bathing suit and placed it on top of the dresser. He started humming as he went through the drawer, and eventually two other suits-one yellow, one pale bluejoined the red one. He turned and tossed them to me. "Try these on."

I caught them and put them down on the bed. There didn't seem to be much material for any of them. "Um, I don't know-"

"Honey, let me explain something to you once and for all about being gay." He rolled his eyes. "Just call me Obiwan." He laughed. "Oh, I crack myself up. The most important thing about being a gay man-and a good one-that most gay men never seem to understand is"-he walked over to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and leaned in, adding in a whisper-"it's all in the marketing."

"Huh?" He wasn't making any sense to me.

He reached over and picked up the red bikini. "Here, try this one on." He gave me a wicked grin. "Do you want me to look away?"

I blushed. "No," I said, trying to sound defiant. "You can look all you want."

"In that case"-he took a few steps away from me and folded his arms-"go for it, prairie boy."

I slid my underwear down, stepping out of it and standing in front of him stark naked. I reached for the pale blue pair, making sure he could see my naked ass as I bent over the bed. I stepped into them and pulled them up. They were not my size; I'm bigger than Blair-but even on Blair, they wouldn't have covered a whole hell of a lot. I somehow managed to tuck my cock and my balls inside the little triangle of fabric, and turned back to him. "Well?"

"We're going to need to trim your pubic hair for sure," he said, stepping close. "Turn around, let me see your ass." I obliged, catching a glimpse of myself in the full mirror on the wall beside the bed. I blushed again-surely he couldn't want me to go out in front of people wearing something this revealing-but I stood there for a moment as he adjusted the suit over my ass, I started to see myself in a completely different way. The suit was sexy; and while I'd never really given a lot of thought to my cock size, the pale blue made it look rather large. Nothing as large as Rory Armagh's-he was practically deformed-but I kind of had to smile. I raised my arms and flexed my biceps.

Yeah, I looked hot.

But I could also see what he meant about my tan line and my pubic hair. Hair was coming out of the suit on every side, and it looked, well, sloppy. And the tan line looked ridiculous in this suit. I'd always worn long shorts whenever I was swimming or doing anything in the sun, so the skin below my knees was a dark, rich brown. Above my knees was as white as my ass. That skin had never seen the sun, and the skimpy bikini made it very apparent.

"Okay, put on the yellow," he instructed. He walked over to his desk and sat down. He started rolling a joint.

I was a little disappointed that he wasn't going to watch me change-God, how I wanted him to look at me-but I pulled the pale blue suit off. I pulled on the yellow, making the same adjustments in the front as I had before, and then looked over my shoulder at my ass in the mirror. I started adjusting the backside. "Jesus, I have a big ass," I said aloud.

"You have a hot ass." Blair finished rolling the joint and looked over at me. "I like the yellow better than the blue."

"The blue made my dick look huge."

"So does the yellow" He lit the joint. "Face it, my love, you have a big dick and a hot ass. Put the red on." I did as he took a hit. Once I had finished adjusting myself, he gave me a big grin. "And we have a winner! Red, my dear, is definitely your color."

"You think?" I took the joint from him and took a big hit.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "You're going to make a big splash tonight at my little party."

I spent the rest of the day grooming. Blair taught me how to put gel in my hair; how to shave my balls, and he also decided that I needed to shave my chest and underarms. "Are you sure I need to do this?" I looked at him dubiously. My balls already were bare, and I had trimmed down the rest of my pubic hair with electric clippers. "I mean, I kind of like that hair."

"It's all in the marketing, darlin'," he replied. "Yes, I'm sure. The smoother you are, the more they will like you. It will make you look even younger than you already do-and we're selling you as a farm boy from Kansas right off the bus."

"What do you mean by sell?" I started lathering the spot in the middle of my chest where all my hair was located.

"I don't mean I am going to pimp you out, if that's what you're afraid of." He burst out laughing. "Lord! No, honey, you're a product-remember? All of us are products, and we have to make ourselves as desirable as we can. We package ourselves into the most appealing product for as many different consumers as we can. And I don't mean that we have to sleep with all of them-no, just being desired is the end result we want, always. As long as you remember that-you'll go far. Now finish shaving off that hair, I need to call the caterers."

I spent the rest of the day by myself, with Blair poking his head in every once in a while to check on my progress. Around six, he sent me to his father's workout room to "pump up", which felt kind of silly to me. I'd been lifting weights ever since junior high for sports, and I'd never really thought about weight lifting as anything other than a way to improve my athletic performance-and once I was out of high school, I was done with it. But every wall in Steve Blanchard's workout room, which was better equipped than the one at Southern Heights, was mirrored. And as I did curls with a pair of twenty pound dumbbells, I watched as the veins in my arms popped out, and once I set the weights down, I realized my biceps did look better. I heard Blair saying, "it's all in the marketing" in my head, and I began to understand what he meant. He thought I looked good-but I could look better. And looking better was what it was all about. I decided then and there to start working out at CSUP's gym when we got back on Monday.

I showered after pumping up, and slipped back into the red bikini, staring at myself in the mirror. Now, I felt kind of self-conscious about the long stretch of white skin from the bottom of the swimsuit to just above the knee. But my chest gleamed in the bathroom lights, and I raised my arms to inspect my underarms, which were white and pristine. They stung a little bit as well, but Blair said that would pass. My muscles were all pumped up. No errant long curly hairs were sticking out of the bikini anywhere.

I looked sexy.

The bathroom door opened and Blair whistled. "Damn, boy, you are one hot stud." A joint was dangling from his mouth. "Just wanted to let you know people are starting to arrive. Almost time for your grand entrance." He gave me that evil grin I loved so much. "And just for the record, you're mine, okay? No sneaking off to get fucked in the bushes-or a van-"

"Blair!"

"Just teasing you, dear." He brushed my cheek with his lips.

"Blair-"I hesitated.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

His face softened. "Oh, Jeff, you don't ever have to thank me. I hope you know that."

"No, I do." I sat down on the toilet seat. "Thank you. You've changed my life."

"I hope you mean that in a good way."

"Yeah, yeah I do." Maybe it was the pot I'd been smoking all day, or the occasional glasses of wine Blair brought me, but I felt like I was going to break down and cry. No one had ever been as sweet to me as Blair before. Kevinwell, Kevin had been my best friend back in Kansas, but I'd never dared to be honest with him about who I was. Blair knew who I was, knew the truth about me, and he cared about me anyway. He cared enough to bring me down to Los Angeles and introduce me to his friends. He cared enough about me to teach me about being gay. I felt tears bubbling up in my eyes.

"Oh, girl, don't cry." Blair slid an arm around me. "This is a party, and you can't be going down there all puffy-eyed." He kissed me on the cheek.

"I love you, Blair."

I felt him stiffen, and knew instinctively that I'd said the wrong thing. Without looking at him, I went on, "You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for. You're like my brother."

He relaxed, and I made a mental note-never say I love you to him, no matter how much you mean it, he's not comfortable with that. He stood up. "Now, dry your eyes and come down to the party. Do me proud."

"Okay." I stood up and smiled at him. "Let's party."

The evening passed in a blur. I'm sure I walked around with my mouth open in awe all night long, but I didn't care about the impression I was making on anyone. At its height, there were about fifty people there-all men, all gay, and all beautiful. I recognized one guy from an exercise infomercial I'd seen on a cable channel once for an ab machine, and he was stunningly beautiful. Another guy I recognized from a commercial for shaving cream, another from underwear ads, and so on. There was a guy who looked vaguely familiar to me-and then I realized when he was a kid he'd been on one of those live-action Saturday morning shows. Another guy with an amazing ass turned out to have been an Olympic figure skater. Everyone was beautiful, everyone was sexy, everyone was kind-and didn't seem to mind that I could never remember anyone's name. The figure skater just smiled as I apologized for forgetting his name and said, "It's okay, you're pretty dear. You can be forgiven almost everything-except giving crabs."

I got touched a lot, but never in an ugly or scary way. It was always just an appreciation of some sort-maybe that sounds naive, but none of them touched with any ulterior motives, or so it seemed. Someone would come up to me and drape an arm over my shoulder while he made small talk, and maybe his hand would drop down and stroke my ass, but there was no follow-through, no requests for my phone number, no offer of theirs. It was, I don't know, nice. They asked me about myself, what I wanted to do with my life, and I couldn't really be from Kansas-was anyone really from there? But what might have seemed in a different tone of voice mean and condescending, was said in a teasing manner-and every Kansas remark was followed by "If they grow them like this in Kansas I'm taking the next bus to Topeka!"

Any self-consciousness I might have felt about my skimpy little bikini was gone within a few moments of joining the party. I had more on than most of the guests-many of whom were wearing glorified jockstraps that showed their asses.

And what beautiful asses they were!

Ordinarily, I would have worried about getting hard in the little bikini-but because there were so many beautiful men there, I was on overload. I couldn't stare at one for long before another one came into view who was just as gorgeous as the previous one. And everyone knew me as Blair's new friend Jeff, who'd just moved to California from Kansas.

"Have you ever done any modeling?" one man with long blond hair and a diamond stud in one ear asked me.

"No," was all I could think to respond.

"I'll give Blair one of my cards. Give me a call if you want to get started." He winked at me. "You could do quite well for yourself. I can just see you on a billboard."

I just laughed and moved on.

Others asked if I was an actor, if I wanted to do this or that, if I'd met so-and-so. And I was invited to other parties.

I just kept smiling and talking to people, meeting people, making small talk, chit-chatting, drinking champagne, and accepting hits off of joints.

And then it was just me and Blair again.

I was collapsed in a reclining deck chair, a half-full glass of champagne in my hand. I was more than a little drunk, and a lot stoned. "Did you have fun?" Blair asked as he collapsed into the chair next to mine. "You certainly made an impression on them all, as I knew you would."

"Oh, Blair." I rolled my head to the side so I could look at him. "Your friends are the nicest people."

"Well, let's not get crazy. They're fun-but I wouldn't go so far as to call them nice." Blair took a sip from his own glass, and then yawned. "You were quite a hit. Everyone wants you to call them, you know"

"Really?"

"Look at you, grinning from ear to ear." He smiled at me, then yawned. "No, you won't be calling any of them, you know."

"I won't?"

"Oh no, I warned them all off-you belong to me, remember? I told you."

"I wasn't sure if you meant it or not."

"Of course I meant it, silly little Jeff."

I didn't know what to say. I felt like crying a little bit.

"Come on, let's go up to bed." He reached out and took my hand, and I pulled him down on top of me, spilling his glass and mine. "Hey!"

I put my arms around him, and pulled his face down to mine and kissed him.

He resisted at first, but I could feel his dick starting to get hard against my stomach. He relaxed into the kiss, and it was like we went to a different place, as though we floated off the deck chairs and started drifting upward to the sky. I slid a hand down his back and cupped his hard ass with my hand. It tightened in my hand, and I slid my hand inside the bikini so I could feel his bare ass. His skin was velvety and smooth. He moved his head to the side, taking his lips down to my throat, and he started kissing me at the base. I moaned. It felt incredible, and then he was tracing designs on my throat with his tongue. He tilted his head back. "Come on, stud." He pushed himself up off of me and took me by the hand. "I don't want to do this outside, in case the paparazzi are around. I'm of age now. Come on, can you control yourself and that dick for a few minutes? Let's go up to my room."

My heart sang as he led me up to the bedroom. It was all I could do not to run up the stairs. Blair and I are going to bed together, we're going to be lovers, my dreams are coming true! Once we were inside, he pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands grabbed my ass and squeezed. He moved his head down my throat, nibbling on first one nipple, before moving on to the other as my knees buckled. It felt incredible, the pleasure was so intense I didn't know how long I could stand it. He bit down a little harder on the right one, and the shock of the pain along with the pleasure that followed was so much I almost fell down. I gasped out, "Oh God!"

My cock sprang through the waistband of my bikini, and when he got to his knees and took it in his mouth I thought the top of my head would blow off. He teased the head of my dick with his tongue, before running his tongue along the base, and taking my shaved balls into his mouth. I put both hands on his shoulders as I moaned, and looked down through half-open eyes. I looked into his eyes and he closed one eye in a wink as he slid his mouth back up my cock to the tip.

"That's ... so ... good," I gasped out. "My God, Blair, please, don't stop."

He winked again.

And then he took my entire cock in his mouth, all the way down to the base, and I moaned again. My heart was racing, I could hear it pounding in my ears as he slid his mouth back and forth slowly over my cock.

Nothing in my wildest dreams had ever prepared me for this sensation.

My whole body began to tremble.

And he stopped.

He closed his hand over the base of my cock and stood up. "I want you to come inside me, Jeff."

"Anything ... anything you want, Blair," I breathed out between gasps.

"Anything?" he asked, one eyebrow arching upwards. "You better be careful who you say that to, my little prairie boy."

He let go of me and walked over to the bed, stripping out of his bikini on the way. He had no tan lines, his round hard little ass tanned as dark as the rest of him, and when he turned around I saw he'd shaved off his pubic hair. His entire body was smooth as silk, tanned a deep brown, and just beautiful to behold. The definition in his abs, the veins in his arms and shoulders, his muscular legs. I stared at him, wanting to always remember the way he looked as he stood there naked in front of me, and then he beckoned to me.

His own cock was erect, standing straight up along his torso. It was bigger than I would have thought, with a big head and getting thicker as it got closer to the base. He walked over to the nightstand and got out a brown bottle and a clear plastic bottle of Wet. He put them on top, and laid down on the bed, his legs spread. "Come here," he said.

I walked over as he tore open a condom wrapper. He squirted some of the lube inside, and rolled it down over the top of my cock. He squirted more lube on my nowencased dick, and squirted some in his hand. He reached down and lubed up his ass. He opened the brown bottle and inhaled, before offering it to me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Poppers. Don't worry-it won't hurt you."

I inhaled up one nostril, then up the other like he'd done. Suddenly I felt hot, as though the blood had rushed up to the skin everywhere and sweat broke out on my scalp-and at the same time I felt so incredibly horny.

"Fuck me," he whispered. "But go slow at first. I'm not used to guys your size, and you are so fucking big."

All I wanted to do right then and there was shove my cock as far inside of him as it would go. I wanted to touch him everywhere. I wanted to make him feel as incredible as I did, but I did as he asked. I found the opening down there with the head of my cock, and slowly started to work it in. He gasped a little at first, and resisted, but as I worked my way in, his head went back and his eyes closed.

I was about halfway in when he put his hand against my chest to stop me. He inhaled from the bottle again and handed it to me. I inhaled, and as I put the cap back on the bottle I felt him completely relax.

I went all the way in.

His head went back and his mouth opened. "Oh ... my ... God ..."

I started moving back and forth, pulling my cock all the way except for the head before shoving it in as far as I could.

"Oh ... God ... yes ... fuck ... me ....Jeff, please ..."

I started going faster.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and he let out a loud grunt with each penetration.

I could feel it starting within me.

I pounded deeper and faster and harder.

He screamed as come flew out of his cock, his head lolling about as I felt mine go. My entire body stiffened. I was moaning, making noises like an animal as I shot my own load.

We both convulsed, our bodies shaking.

And then it was over.

He opened his eyes and smiled at me.

I leaned down and kissed him.

He peeled the condom off me and wiped himself down with a towel, which he tossed to the floor.

"I want to sleep with your arms around me," he whispered.

We snuggled down into the big bed, his ass against my crotch and my arms around him. I buried my head in the back of his neck.

He was asleep in an instant.

I love you, Blair, I mouthed soundlessly to the back of his head.

And before long, I too, fell asleep.