I'm lying on the living room floor of an apartment in Fort Collins, Colorado. The pale gray light of dawn filters through the curtains.
Lonnie is sleeping beside me. Our bed is three blankets spread on the carpet with a thin quilt covering us. We're the roadies for a band named "Zandor Walker."
The bar where Zandor Walker is playing rents the apartment for the bands playing there. Beck, the keyboard player and lead singer, claimed the master bedroom. Larry, the drummer, and Jim, the bass player, are sleeping in the second bedroom's twin beds. Tom, the guitar player from Texas, is asleep on the living room couch, facing away from me.
I'm big and stocky, with collar length brown hair and a short black beard. Lonnie is my height, slender as a reed but strong. Last week, he carried one end of a 420 pound Hammond organ down a flight of stairs while Larry and I struggled to hold up our half. He has a sparse mustache and a jet black ponytail that reaches his ass crack.
Lonnie's openly gay. I'm straight, but curious about men. Two nights ago, Larry slept on the floor with Lonnie. Last night, he told me, "It's your turn."
The rough pallet isn't very comfortable and I had trouble sleeping. I'm thinking of getting up and making myself some coffee when Lonnie stops snoring.
We lie there silently. I broke up with Roberta, my crazy psych major girlfriend, a few months before graduation, and haven't had sex in almost a year. I'm horny as hell. I sense that Lonnie is too. He's a few years older than me, but we're both still at the age where guys are basically walking hard-ons.
We're both naked under the quilt. My cock's already hard, but it gets a lot harder when Lonnie puts his hand on my thigh.
I freeze, not sure how to react. Did Lonnie make a pass at Larry last night? Probably. But, Larry's totally straight. He would have pushed Lonnie's hand away, rolled over onto his side, and pretended to go back to sleep.
Not moving is a message. Lonnie slowly moves his hand toward my crotch. Gathering my courage, I put my hand on his and guide it upward. His fingers close around my rigid pole.
I've had sex with three girls. They were all shy about handling my dick. Lonnie isn't. He runs his closed fist up and down my swollen shaft and rubs his thumb over my cock-head, smearing the precum leaking from its tip. It feels good.
It's gotten brighter and I can see Lonnie looking at me. I push the quilt down so I can see his dick. It's long and thin and just as hard as mine. We roll onto our sides, facing each other, and stroke each other's stiff rods.
The tension in my nuts builds as Lonnie pushes me toward a cum-spewing climax. I sense he's getting close, too.
Lonnie lets go of my throbbing pole and rolls me onto my back. I'm sure he's going to fuck my ass. It'll hurt and I'm afraid, but I still want it.
I'm relieved when Lonnie straddles my shoulders and pushes his stiff dick into my mouth. It's the first time I've sucked a cock. It had always seemed gross to me--and to my girlfriends. They'd only suck my dick reluctantly, after I'd ineptly gone down on them. The hot male taste of Lonnie's salty skin and precum is almost overpowering.
I prop myself up on my elbows so I can move my head more easily. Lonnie moans softly as I bob over his rod, sometimes taking it deep in my throat, but mostly concentrating on his cock-head and upper shaft. I don't know what I'm doing, but I can tell he likes it.
Lonnie rolls his hips, thrusting his hard-on into my mouth. I suck his plunging pole harder. It's way more exciting than licking my girlfriends' pussies.
Tom groans on the couch and then resumes snoring. Lonnie goes faster. I put my hands on his butt cheeks, kneading their firm male flesh.
A new taste fills my mouth. It's faint at first but then grows intense. It takes me an instant to realize Lonnie is coming. It's so sexy! I suck him like a hungry calf, gulping the hot male juice spurting from his throbbing cock.
He stops moving. I hold his spent dick in my mouth, savoring the sexy male taste of skin, sweat, and the remnants of his cum.
I'm disappointed when Lonnie pulls away. He's smiling as he spreads my legs and kneels between my open thighs. His cock is still hard and I wonder if he's going to fuck me now. I'm scared, but I also want that more than ever.
Lonnie bends forward and swallows my hard cock. It's nothing like the unenthusiastic blow jobs Kathy, Pam, and Roberta gave me. I can hardly believe how good it feels.
I sink back on the blankets and close my eyes to concentrate on the sensations as Lonnie sucks my dick, sending waves of erotic energy surging through my body. His mouth is as good as my girlfriends' pussies. Maybe better.
The tension in my crotch builds steadily. I roll my hips in time with Lonnie's up and down sucking. It's not quite like thrusting into a pussy, but still great. I prop myself up on my elbows again and watch Lonnie bobbing over my dick. It's full light outside and the visuals are great. Better than with the girls, who all insisted on subdued lighting.
Tom has stopped snoring and is stirring on the couch. He's a homophobic redneck, but I don't care if he sees Lonnie sucking my cock. That's what I tell myself, but I don't quite believe it.
Lonnie sucks me harder and faster. He's not using his hands, just his mouth. That's how I sucked him off and it worked just fine. I'm getting closer and closer, but I wonder if I'm going to make it over the edge. Lying on my back, I can't really thrust like I did with the girls and helping out with my hand seems like cheating.
I want to come so bad. For myself, but even more for Lonnie. I always used condoms, so the girls never felt me shoot inside them. I want to give him that. For him to swallow my hot cum the way I did his. But, I can't do it. I'm too tense. I gently push him away and whisper, "Sorry. It's not working."
If Lonnie's disappointed, he doesn't show it. He crawls to the foot of our improvised bed and picks up one of the electronics magazines he's brought. "Look at this." He turns to an article on... something.
Lonnie works in a music store, repairing amplifiers and keyboards. My knowledge of electronics is limited to plugging components together and running a sound system. I pretend to be interested in the article while trying to process what we've just done.
Tom wakes up a few minutes later. He stares at Lonnie and me, sitting naked on the blankets and softly talking about electronics. Then, he gets up and goes into the bathroom.
The rest of the guys will be stirring soon, so Lonnie and I get dressed. We don't talk about sucking each other's cocks. Not then and not for the rest of the time we're in Fort Collins.
* * *
It's a few days later. The bar gig is over and we're back home in Colorado Springs.
Lonnie spent the last two days at the band's house working on an old Farfisa organ he'd bought and sleeping in an old recliner in the basement. Now, I'm taking him back to the house he shares with a lesbian couple. Even though we're alone in my car, we still don't talk about the sex. I guess we're pretending it never happened.
Lonnie and his friends live in a little two bedroom house in the old part of town. It's after noon and his roommates are at work. He invites me to stay for lunch and I accept.
He's a vegetarian, so living with a bunch of carnivores has been rough on him. He opens several cans of vegetables and pours them into a pair of bowls.
We eat the veggies, leaning against the counter in the tiny kitchen. He talks about going back to the music store. I think that's a good idea. The band isn't making enough to live on. Beck's roommate Rusty is a night cook at a 24-hour restaurant and he's paying the rent on the band house. Larry and I are sleeping in the basement. Jim is living with his parents and Tom is alternating between sleeping on the couch and staying with his old lady.
I want to talk about that morning in Fort Collins, but I'm not sure how to bring it up. Lonnie is standing a foot away from me and I wonder what will happen if I just put my hand on his crotch.
We finish lunch. Lonnie puts the bowls in the sink and we go into his bedroom. It holds a double bed hidden behind a curtain and an electronics workbench. The only decoration is a small black and white photograph of a naked man pinned to the wall over the bed's headboard. He's lying on his side facing the camera. Even soft, his penis is long and thick.
