Interested to know if anyone has a beat buddy to do beats together in SEQ/Briz/Ippy... could both be vers, or top and btm, or both tops/vers tops, like if you were both vers and hit on nothing there's always each other as an example... also handy for security... good for 3-som and group fun. My closest beat is Denmark Hill near Ippy Hospital, Kholo Gardens and Brassall Quarry are also not far away.
I want to start a thread about public cruising spots where people can find raw sex in public. Let me know what places you like. I'll try to share some other favorites of mine too.
The Apache Drive-In Theater on Hwy 31 in Tyler, TX is a legendary East Texas cruising spot.
Apache Drive-In Theatre
13180 TX-31, Tyler, TX 75705
The drive in plays straight porn on the big screen after dark but there are group rooms and buddy booths playing vids inside all day too.
I've taken lots of loads there. If you're there when I am, I'll probably take yours too.
“Hey Ian! Looks like I finally found us some work?”
“Well, 'retail workers' if you wanna get all technical about it. Same difference, we're getting fucked over either way.”
These sorts of interactions were commonplace in Kace and Ian's relationship. In fact, you might call it the bread-and-butter of their day-to-day life. Really, Ian should've been used to it now. But for a, shall we say, more 'reserved' person, his boyfriend's more risque sense of humour still succeeded in making that tan on his face look more like a sunburn, and getting him very interested in looking at the floor. Or a wall. Or anywhere that wasn't eye contact.
“Come on,” Kace laughed, tossing a muscular arm around Ian, pulling the whole 'whopping' 145 pounds of man to his side of the sofa .“It was funny!”
“You know how I feel about those kinds of jokes...”
“Of course! Why do you think I make them?”
“Because you like to see me squirm?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You want my honest answer?”
“Because...” Kace continued, arm sliding lower to wrap around Ian's waist. “You're cute as hell when you're flustered.”
Though that remark did nothing to reduce said flustering, it did bring a hint of a smile to Ian's face, one of the few he'd made over the past couple weeks. However, that smile wouldn't last for long as he sighed, blonde hair mingling with his boyfriend's brown locks as he set his head on Kace's shoulder.
“So... Those are the only openings you could find today, huh?”
Likewise, Kace's teasing demeanour also faded, shifting instead into concern.
“Look... I know you're not big on 'people'-y jobs.”
“And I can't blame you. People are dicks.”
“Don't worry, I'll find us something else and-”
Though Ian's 'raised voice' was little more than speaking slightly above inside-voice levels, to Kace it was as if a screamo-metal rave was taking place in their tiny living room. Ian never yelled. EVER. To call this a cause for concern would be the understatement of the year.
“It's okay. I'll do it. Just get me the application form.”
“No. You don't have to do some job you hate. There are always other options.”
“Like what? Calling up Mom? Again?”
“C'mon Kace, she's helped out too much already.”
It was true. Since the day they'd rented that sardine-tin apartment, Ian's mother had practically shouldered all their living costs. She didn't mind, all she cared about was that her son found 'a nice young man to settle down with.' Besides, she'd joke, with him majoring in nursing, he'd be paying her back in spades anyways when she got 'so damned old I can't find my teeth no more!'
Yea... Clearly Ian didn't inherit his shyness from his mom's side of the family. Anyways, the point was that even though she didn't mind, Ian sure as hell did. Kace sighed. Getting that guy to take a helping hand was akin to trying to bathe a cat.
“Look... Just think about it, okay? We don't have to decide tonight.”
Ian sighed. Though disappointed, his smarts overruled his emotion. There was no way he could rationally argue with Kace's suggestion.
“Fine,” He acquiesced. “I'll think about it, but I can't promise anything. Now...” Ian paused. He needed something to occupy his mind, any menial task would do. “Would you like some supper?”
“Dude. It's 4:30.”
Ian's baby blues crashed, falling to look at an incredibly fascinating spot of brown carpet.
“So yea!” Kace laughed, delivering a playful and (unintentionally) painful slap to Ian's back.
Baby blues have just taken liftoff, I repeat, baby blues have just taken liftoff.
“You're sure? I don't want you just to do this because of me-”
“Ian. I'm. Hungry.”
“As long as you're certain-EEP!”
Why the 'eep,' you ask? Good question. In case you hadn't already guessed, Ian was rather the quiet type. He was lucky that he made all those (in Kace's opinion) adorable faces whenever they fooled around, because there were mutes who made more sound during intercourse. A good thing Kace, despite his large appetite for such activities, was fairly vanilla, because gagging Ian wouldn't have changed a thing in terms of the, ahem, 'auditory' stimulation. No, the only way, to the best of Kace's knowledge anyway, was to catch the guy by surprise. So, the second he stood up, SWHACK came a second slap! Only this one was a wee bit lower than the shoulder, let's put it that way.
“Damn! Bounce quarters off that thing!” Kace hooted, counting not one, not two, but five ripples in Ian's butt before it finally settled back from extremely bouncy to its regular bouncy state. The display was made easily visible courtesy to a pair of bright blue short shorts. Really, the only reason Ian wore them was because they came free with his last photoshoot, and they couldn't afford to waste. Well that and he knew how much Kace loved it (though not as much as the complimentary Speedo, but that;s a story for another time).
“I know,” Ian sighed, arching an eyebrow as a lazy smile spread across his lips. “You have. I've still got the bruises.”
“Come on man,” Kace laughed, calling out to Ian as he scampered off to the kitchen. “It was only one!”
“One quarter my ass.”
Dinner was, as usual, a budget feast of tuna melts and baked beans. Protein, fat, and carbs, Kace would say. You couldn't go wrong with that!
Even if it was plain. Even if they'd had it every night for the past week. Even if-
A piano solo blasted from Ian's shirt pocket, snapping both parties out of their daydreaming fugue. Not any piano solo, however, no, his ringtone was the opening to Kace's latest, greatest piece. A little something to remind them of what all this was for in the first place. Ian swallowed his mouthful, fully prepared to hit decline.... That was until he got a good look at the caller ID.
“Ah, sorry, I gotta take this one,” Ian said, leaving Kace alone with nothing but a half-eaten tuna melt for company as he made a hasty exit, not just out of the kitchen but out of the apartment altogether, off to pace the corridors in some conversation unknown.
That... Wasn't like Ian. Like, at all. Running off like that, hiding conversations... It wasn't cheating, Kace knew that much. His boyfriend barely had enough extroversion to flirt with him, let alone a random stranger. Besides, the guy was paranoid about STDs and all that jazz (majoring in nursing can do that to a person). But, if not that, the question still remained: what was wrong? Whatever the problem was, Kace thought, sipping the last of his beer, he'd gently confront Ian with it that night. After all, their relationship was one constructed of trust. Whatever was bothering Ian, he could talk about it! Little did he know that Ian, who'd just hung up after insisting on consulting Kace before entering any 'binding contracts' was about to do the same thing.
“Ian, are you-”
“Uhm, so I-”
The pair stopped. Tried again. Stopped again. It seemed every time one opened his mouth to speak, the other chose that moment to do the same, sending them into a hopeless cycle of cutting each other off. Alas, one of the few disadvantages of always travelling the wavelength as your partner.
Though mildly infuriating, it did serve to ease off a good chunk of the tension, and by the end the two were deliberately cutting themselves off just for the joke of it.
“So,” Kace said, finally getting out in front. “I was going to ask... But I feel you've been trying to tell me for the past five minutes.”
“How did you ever guess? Hah, yea, it's... It's Jonathan!”
“Jonathan? That's great news!”
“Not quite... You see he said he was looking for a-”
Why, might you ask, is that great news? Here's a hint: it has something to do with those short shorts hugging Ian's bubble-for-a-butt backside.
Jonathan had been taking pictures since before the dinosaurs went extinct. Okay, maaaybe not quite that long. Let's just say he'd been at it long enough to to take maternity pictures for Kace's mom. Kace, who was now twenty.
The pictures Jonathan specialized in though... Well, they weren't exactly white-bread pregnancy fare. And he wasn't interested in Kace.
Don't be mistaken, he did not find him an unattractive man. Standing 5'8, 165 pounds, with a surfer dude mop of hair and deep brown eyes, the guy was nothing to sniff at. But Kace wasn't exactly what he (or, more accurately) his customers, were interested in. A bit too muscular. A bit too intimidating. A bit too, as one client put it 'top-ish.' They weren't looking for tall , dark and handsome. No, what they wanted was limber, lithe, and boyish. And that's where Ian came into play.
With only his height (5'6) and measurements alone, most people would've assumed they belonged to a woman. But anyone who saw him knew better. He looked effeminate in the way only a man could. He was, as Jonathan put it, a-
“-Twink. He said he was looking for a twink.”
“Uh. Yea. And I think he found one,” Kace said matter-of-factly, giving his boyfriend a painfully obvious glance up and down (especially down). “So, what's he got you modelling this time? Bike shorts? Boxers? Speedos? Hmm, yea, I hope it's Speedos.”
“No, it's... It's not anything.”
“What? It's gotta be something! Come on, I won't bite! Now spill.”
“No, Kace, that's what I mean. It's nothing. At least for a couple shots anyway.”
“Ohhh!” The brunette's eyes lit up, finally grasping what Ian was too shy to simply say straight. “That all? Look, Ian, I know how Jonathan works. Private clients with private requests desiring pictures for private use. Like, maybe five people will ever see it at max. I'm not telling you to do it if you're uncomfortable, just... Don't start worrying I'm going to get all jealous or something. The only way you're gonna make me mad is if I don't get a peek at those sweets pics of yours.”
Kace winked, leaning in for a kiss... But Ian pulled away.
“That... That isn't all. I'm... This isn't a solo shoot.”
“Oh...” He said again, more hesitantly that time around.
“Well...” Kace continued, trying to keep the conversation moving forwards. “What does he want you to do? For the shoot, I mean.”
“Sort of a plotline, actually. Basically, an, uhm, older black... Gentleman seducing a....” Ian reddened, unsure if he wanted to quote Jonathan on the next part. “ 'Soft white twink'.' B-But there's no...”
“You can use the word sex, you know,” Kace laughed, trying to lighten the mood by, as he loved to do, teasing his boyfriend's 'fragile constitution.' “I mean, with how much we-”
“He said,” Ian interrupted, eager to nip THAT little tangent in the bud. “He wants some close contact. Not heavy petting or anything, just...”
“Regular petting?” The taller of the two joked.
“You could call it that... I guess.”
“You should do it.”
“Yea, if you want to, go for it,” Kace shrugged.
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I mean, it's not like you're going to be fucking the guy or something.”
“Right, sorry, 'engaging in intercourse,' is what I meant to say. Still, I'd prefer to look in on it myself too, just in case... Y'know... But if you can't do it with-”
“Kace,” Ian said, putting a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder (made somewhat comical by their differing heights). “You being there is the only way I think I CAN do this.”
Kace ended up being the one to send Jonathan the final okay, Ian taking off to do whatever he did when he felt embarrassed (which, let's be real, was probably holing up in the university library with a med textbook). When he arrived back some three hours later, he opened the door to find-
“Hey, 'Rustic country lodging suite with fishing lake and complimentary fresh English breakfast,' or 'Roomy accommodations with...' Huh. Says here 'Nautical feel?'”
“What?” Ian asked, baffled as he stepped into the kitchen, revealing Kace clicking feverishly on his old brick of a laptop. “What are you-”
“Bed and Breakfasts. See anything you like, just shout. Oh! 'Chic, modern rooms a stone's throw away from the city's premiere entertainment venues?' Sounds like clubbing to me! And I don't know about you, but that's right up my alley! There's also-”
“And why exactly are we looking at BnBs?”
“Uh, for your shoot of course. Duh.”
“My shoot is at three in the afternoon, right?”
“Yea. Hey, this one has a pool! All these things used to have was, I don't know, a bed and a breakfast,” Kace responded, only half listening.
“...And the studio is only an hour out of the city, correct?”
“Yup. Say, which would you prefer: a circular room with square windows or a square room with circular windows?”
“I'd prefer to know why it is you think we need a Bed and Breakfast for a one-day job.”
“Need? No, we don't need it. But it'll be fun.”
“And how are we planning to pay for this?” Ian asked, gesturing to the burnt out lightbulbs gone months without replacing.
“....The shoot,” Kace responded, as if being forced to explain the most obvious thing in the world.
“Yes, all 250 dollars of it.”
“Two hundred and, hah! 250?” He laughed, slapping the table with nearly enough intensity to send the laptop barrel-rolling to the tiled flooring. “Ian, it's 250 per HOUR! It's an eight hour shoot! Haha! I'm supposed to be the dumb one in this relationship remember?”
“You're not dumb,” Ian said, registering the need to assure his boyfriend before the first part of what was said sunk in. “Wait. Per hour?”
“Yep! Bet you're glad I read the fine print, huh? I-oh!”
Something rare had just happened. No, it wasn't the couple embracing, that was a daily (practically hourly) activity. The oddity at hand here was who was embracing who. Kace always played 'offensive,' as it were, both inside and outside the bedroom, Ian fair better suited to being on the receiving end. Yet, Kace now found himself pinned to his chair by a pair of thin, smooth arms leaning over him from behind.
“Thank you...” Ian whispered. To Kace, it was just money. But to Ian, he knew it was a big deal. Something he wouldn't have to take from his mother or put himself deeper into the indentured servitude that was student loans. He'd always been the type to try to earn his keep. Unemployment was tough on him. Finally, he could go to bed without feeling guilty, like a mooch.
“No...” Kace corrected. “Thank YOU. Now...” He continued, once the pair had enjoyed a couple minutes of comfortable, intimate silence. “You. Me. Six pack in the fridge.”
“Dude! We're celebrating!”
They had a wild night. And by wild, I mean Ian drank three-quarters of his bottle instead of the usual one half.
“Lightweight,” Kace teased, draining the dregs from his third bottle.
“Well, we can't all be fat like you,” Ian replied, having consumed just enough alcohol to allow him to make playful jabs.
“Hey!” Kace said, pulling up his shirt to reveal a very different kind of six pack. “This look like flab to you?”
“Hmm. I think I'll need to get a feel of it myself before I can make any final conclusions.”
Ian? Flirting? Was... Was he somehow sloshed already? There was no way he'd-
“But... I shouldn't. You're clearly intoxicated. It would be taking advantage of a vulnerable situation.”
And there was the Ian that Kace knew.
“You can take advantage, I don't mind!”
Ian sighed. “Yes, that is what a drunk person would say.”
“Dude! Watch!” Kace whined, performing the finger-to-nose sobriety test. Alas, he missed the dead centre, falling slightly closer to the left nostril than the right. For most people, that would've been more than enough to prove that one was still overall competent. But, in case you haven't already guessed, Ian wasn't most people. “See! Sober! S-O-B-E-R! Mostly.”
“Alright. Look, it's getting late. I need-”
“Your beauty sleep.”
“-My rest or I'll be too tired to get anything done tomorrow. My courseload isn't going to review itself.”
“And if you still feel this way in the morning, we'll do something about it then, promise.
“Make yourself a cup of coffee.”
Kace made something between a grumble and a laugh. It was a strange sound, and one he'd only started producing after dating Ian. That guy could be so risk-averse that he made one want to throttle and protect him at the same time. Basically, the kind of frustrating one can't help but love.
That's why, after being left alone with his thoughts (for Ian was readying for bed, no doubt flossing his teeth and cleaning under each nail), Kace found something that just didn't seem quite right. With a payout of 2000 dollars, it made total sense why Ian would swallow his nerves and get in front of the lens. But... When he made the decision, he thought he was only getting 250...
Kace shrugged. Maybe Ian was right. Maybe he really was drunk.
Now I know you're probably all on the edge of your seats right now. Did he or did he not live up to his promise to Kace the next morning? Well, I assure you, he did. For four hours straight, as a matter of fact. Ian could still... Sort of stand afterwards? But it was a good thing they hadn't done the deed the day of the shoot, or else the poor man might've needed a walker just to get around the set!
To Be Continued....
Hello! I'm new to this site so I don't know if these are customary, so I'll attach one here in the first part and no more after. The story you are reading is a commissioned piece, and my buyer suggested I post it here. The story is currently complete, and per their request, I will be releasing it in parts. I am a female writer, so I apologize if sometimes my portrayal of the male homosexual experience comes across as 'off.' I hope you can enjoy regardless!)