What a neat idea, Ted thought. He'd been down Lexington a couple of times a week all semester from his room to his classes at the university and he hadn't even noticed the Chance Café, down on the lower level under a hippy New Age gear store.
A cyber café, he quickly figured out from a scan of the membership agreement, where you could hook up with other guys in cyber space in comfort. It was sort of a closed men's club—a dating service, where you checked in at the membership desk—really a private little room—the first time, and someone actually took the measurements himself and filled in the vital information on your club Web site profile and took your picture for posting. Then one could be quite sure who they were talking to and what they looked like and how they measured up. It wasn't subject to personal exaggeration.
It was a closed site only accessible from the other Chance Cafés, wherever they were, and when you wanted to browse the members' pages of those currently on line and chat with them one-on-one, they had cubicles where you could do that—very privately, other than the open door from the corridor. So, if the conversation got hot, you could comfortably get hot too.
The whole issue of false advertising had been what had turned Ted off about any of these Internet dating services, and he certainly didn't think he had anything to be ashamed of in his own vital statistics, so there was nothing that bothered him about either having a hunky guy gather his statistics—which had led to a proposition that Ted had politely fended off—or having these statistics placed on a profile with his picture—as long as it was a very, very private club and he'd be talking with some guy safely off in Cleveland somewhere.
Ted had fucked with guys before—well, a couple of times. But he'd always found the fantasy of cyber chat and of dirty talk with a guy in cyber space as so much more arousing than the actual fuck, and a good background for masturbating. Plus, he had this imaginary picture of the guy who would be fucking him—a muscle-bound hunk who would overpower him and sink an extra-long dick in him—and none of Ted's actual coupling partners had lived up to that in any way. He was going to a somewhat geeky school. Very good academically, but most of the men students were the indoor, quiet type who felt well fucked only by a complicated computer program.
But Ted had to laugh at that thought as he stood in the little room off the reception area of the Chance Café and had his dick measured. Here he was not very far from choosing to be fucked by a computer rather than a real man himself.
Ted had been sorely tempted to take the guy checking his stats up on his proposition. He was a nicely bulked-up Scandinavian type with a broad smile and a very nice thick cock of his own, which he had been quite proud to show Ted for comparison purposes while he was measuring and propositioning him.
"I've got my own nice little private cubicle right back here," the attendant had said. "I can hook into a live sex session on my computer, and you can watch it while I bend you over and fuck you deep. How about it?"
Ted had looked at what the guy was packing and was intrigued by the thick gold ball he had pierced to the underside of the cock right under the rim of his bulb. That alone sent little chills up Ted's spine. Nothing like the fucking he'd done in small study apartments with the other computer geeks. He wondered how that gold ball would feel running up and down his inner channel. But Ted was just too shy to more than fantasize about how that might feel.
Alone in the booth and with his still-to-be-completed profile backlit on the screen before him, Ted couldn't get the image of the attendant's gold ball-enhanced cock out of his mind. Why did he shrink from being cocked with something as exotic as that? He knew he wanted more than he'd been getting. That was why he'd checked out this cyber café and continued with the membership procedure after he heard what it was all about. He could find stuff to wank to in the privacy of his own room.
He was here because he wanted to kick it up a level—wanted to masturbate in a more public venue—and to something that stepped it all up a notch—to the fucking words of someone in another Chance Café somewhere, sitting, as he was, in a semiprivate booth in front of a computer with a Web cam. Actually being able to see each other, each other forming the words, as they sat there and masturbated themselves to the fucking words of the other guy in some distant club.
What the hell, Ted, thought, and he threw all caution to the wind. He registered under the name of teddybear4u and tapped in likes and dislikes that described a submissive for muscle hunks. In truth that was his fantasy, so why should he hold back? It was all fantasy anyway. No pretty boys for him. He wanted to see a thug on the screen. And cock? The bigger the better. And, still thinking of that gold bar on the underside of the attendant's cock, he specified that he liked thick cock rings and toys. And forceful. Yes, forceful—don't take no for an answer.
Ted pushed the submit button and laid back in the chair, eyes closed. Waiting to see what, if anything came up in a match. He heard the ding in less than a five-minute wait, but he had no idea what it was.
"Scoot your chair back and take your shirt off."
What? Ted heard the voice, but he had no idea where it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from the computer. He opened his eyes and then he opened them very wide indeed. His profile was no longer what was appearing on the screen. What he saw was a biker type all leathered out and sitting in a chair away from the video cam wherever he was recording from. It was a cubicle much like the one Ted was in.
That was fast, Ted thought. It was intriguing what the system matched him up with in such a short time. And it was a bit surprising how his profile requests had been interpreted. But from the way his cock was hardening, the match up must have been done well.
Bulky, hard pecs, bulging biceps. Not fat, but a good hard belly that had seen its share of beer. Dark. The overall visage of darkness and danger. Black curly hair, covering pecs and moving down the sternum and belly into a pubic bush from which protruded a thick cock hung down between spread thighs at the front of the desk chair. A thick silver cock ring—just as Ted had ordered. The guy was wearing a black leather hat, a black leather vest that didn't close across his chest, and black shiny boots that reached up almost to his knees. Nothing else, except an insistent, mocking stare.
As Ted watched, the guy leaned forward toward the screen and took his cock in a beefy hand and repeated in a gruff, commanding voice, "Scoot back in the chair and take off your shirt. Now!"
Meekly, a chill of thrill going down his spine, Ted pushed his chair back and lifted his T-shirt over his head.
"Aw, nice little chicken," the computer screen muttered. "Straighten up and lean back in the chair. Now run your hands up your chest. Yes, like that. Finger your nipples. Make them puff out for me. Now!"
Another ding from the computer and it went to split screen. Another hulky hunk. More a bodybuilder this time. Red hair, freckles, lightly tanned hairless flesh where the first guy was dark and hairy. A perfectly sculpted body. Squared-jawed chiseled features on a thick neck. Completely naked and sitting away from the video cam as the first guy was—both guys with computer mouses in their hands on long cords. Heavy-muscled spread thighs, big balls resting on the vinyl of the desk chair seat, stubby little cock in repose, but thick, and crowned with a big gold stud with a ruby-colored gem in the center. This one had already started. He had his hips rolled up and his hand was slowly working a long purple dildo into his hole.
Ted was reacting to the first guy. The second guy just sat there and smiled and worked at himself. Ted was on screens to two other booths somewhere. He was momentarily stunned not only that he had so quickly attracted this attention but that the technology existed to link this way in the first place. This could be a triangulated encounter across the American continent.
"I said Now!" the first voice commanded. Ted started playing with his tits, as commanded. He found it arousing—and more arousing because he was being ordered to do it by a bruising hulk—and not the least so because another guy was watching him do it. Not reality, but close enough to make his cock hard.
"Strip off those pants." The commanding voice again. "Now!"
Ted rushed to comply. It was getting pretty tight in there anyway. He flipped his loafers off with toe on heel and then stood and stripped down his jeans and briefs.
"No, don't sit yet. Turn around."
Ted did so, slowly.
"Now bend down and spread those cheeks."
"What?" Ted asked, shocked at how quickly this was going.
