Aidan Meets Sex With Ethan

I guess you could say it isn't all bad, but it's shit work for shit wages, that's for damn' sure. No, no, you should know now that yes, you're right. There are a few, and a very few, people who absolutely adore this job. I always thought that about the best job you get must be to work at a movie theater. Well, certainly there are better. This is just the best job you can get where the $7.50 ticket prices do not apply to you.

I'm Aidan, as my name badge says. Actually, I'm Nikolus, but there was a guy here called Nick when I arrived, and so, despite my unique spelling, I was damned to my equally unique middle name, for the boss hates double-names. This Nick guy left two months after I was hired. Back when they were still calling me Andrew and aldous. They never gave me my easier name, but eventually they learned my real one.

Everyone I work with seems to have been here for ever, and a few of them have. There's Nancy, world's most swift popcorn girl. She's very fast and can usually muster her way through a set that brings in about two-thousand dollars in concessions alone without taking two breaths. Then there's Mike, the big black guy that tears tickets. His title would be usher, but he's really just there as an intimidation factor. You gonna put people at door, you've got to chose the ones that have no trouble throwing people out -- this would be Mike.

Michelle. She's my pride and joy. I love that girl like I love my dog, man, and somewhat more. Isn't she a treat? You just look at that curveatous body of hers...she's something. But I have a little more in mind for myself. She's one of those I want to look at, but don't want to touch. The female body is gorgeous, but not gorgeous enough. there's always got to be something else to tide me over, you know? Something better. I've yet to have good sex with a woman. And I tried all of 23 times. Yes, 23 exactly and I counted everyone of them. You can't go wrong with 23 times.

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Shaquanda. She's been working here since she was old enough to work, and she's here every summer as she goes to college in the Fall. This'll be her last year at Valdosta State. This year she brought me gifts from her home back in Texas: Ethan and Brad. Brad being black, Ethan being black, Mexican, Puerto Rican, White...he's got it all. There's nothing but a solid mix to this boy. See, Brad is black, but he's got a white name. Ethan is just...all that. Which is what brings me to write down what happened today after work. Some things you just can't deny yourself.

After work, Shaquanda had to pick up Brad from his grandfather's house. It was about 12:30 am when she left. Ethan and I got in the car and decide to go downtown. We took Michelle, my baby, and Nancy with us. One guy for every girl. Riverstreet is really in this time of night. We're sitting watching the man play "Taps" on his trumpet as some poor soul lay sprawled out, either dead or drunk out of his fucking mind, on the craziest street in Savannah. I wanted to take his wallet. I don't concern myself. Michelle began to warm up to me. Ethan was seated across from me with Nancy. From nowhere he spilled the beans. "I'm not entirely heterosexual, you know." He says. I'm not shocked, I'm not amazed, but I'm intrigued. I pretend I had no idea. "You're kidding me? You're a fag?" I say, outright.

"No." he says simply. We go on about our business. By this time, Michelle has found a fifth of vodka from somewhere, and she and Nancy are hitting it pretty heavy. We take them home for safe keeping.

"Why not ride out to the Pavilion at Tybee?" I question him. "I know you're leaving on Tuesday and I just know so little about you." The drive is long. He insists on listening to Spice Girls on the way. I'm troubled, but I carry on.

When we finally arrive at the pavilion, there's no one there. However, the pier smells like fish guts. We deal with it, because it's the best place you could possibly smoke cigarettes and discuss constellations at. And finally he asks. "Are you gay, Aidan?" Ethan, always known for his straightforwardness, is desperately awaiting an answer. I feel something stirring in my gut. So many nerves and so little time to expel them. "Not gay." I say. I'm slowly trying to form whole sentences. I feel as if the wind has been knocked out of me. "Not gay, but I would probably kiss a guy. I just don't know about all of that anal stuff."

"Would you kiss just any guy, or do you have preferences?" I know what he's driving at, but I still want to drag this out. I'm too afraid that if I don't let this wear off for awhile, I'll ejaculate immediately. "Every good kisser has preferences."

"Oh. Then nevermind." Nevermind?!? How could he say nevermind? "Why do you say that?" I ask him. "My preference was you." I'm now leaning up against one of the posts. He's just standing there. I refuse to make the first move, even though I want to badly. He reaches out for my hand and I take it. He uses it to pull me not an inch from his face. "I'm glad to be your preference." He says to me. "I can't go around just kissing anybody, you know. And besides, you were my first choice. Right after I got here." Not a second later his arms are around me. We're caught up in a very passionate embrace matched only by the strength of his arms around me. he has a tongue ring. The Tongue ring feels different in my mouth. His hair feels different right now while running through my fingers. I'm truly enjoying this. Moreover, I'm enjoying the taste of him. I push him off. "Take me home."

We ride roughly twenty minutes in the car. President Street traffic is backed up and it's nearly four in the morning, but we try not to concern ourselves. In fact, we pretend to be concerned with nothing. The radio is off, the windows are up, and we are not talking. Ethan looks upset.

We pull up at my house at three till four. I speak. "I have a confession to make." he sighs. "What?" he says hostilly. I pour out my heart. "My parents have left me alone for the weekend. I would really greatly appreciate it if you would...accompany me to my door. Possibly inside also to make sure there are no burglars or anything. Then to the kitchen for something to eat and maybe upstairs for...a sleepover?" The car is quickly thrown in to park and no quicker than we have time to enter the house, we're kissing again.

I'm concerned that Shaquanda is worried, but I also don't care. I'm having ethan to myself tonight. I don't care what anyone says about it. His embrace is still very tight and his kiss so deep. I want him to take me somewhere. Anywhere, but wishful somewhere memorable. We rely on a shower to do the trick. Thankfully, my parents come from money, and therefore the shower is very vast. He undresses me, mouth to zipper, and I'm too interested in getting into him to commit myself to any foreplay such as the latter. The water is extremely hot and not only do I get my first taste of gay sex but in the same bite, my first taste of masochism.

He snatches me by my hair and thrusts me to the ground of the tub, falling on my knees. "I want you to tease me," he says. I know just the trick. I begin to lick him. All over his body paying careful attention to get the area around his cock, but to avoid his cock itself. He's very receptive, but it pisses him off. He begins moaning deeply and loudly. Thank God for parental trust and vacations. He slaps me very hard and yells for me to turn over on the ground. "Get on your hands and knees," he says to me, "and prepare yourself for the best sex you've ever had."

I can feel him behind me still rubbing all of his massive seven inches down my back and around my butt cheeks, just enough to get me so hard I don't know how long I can handle sitting there. "Have you ever had a dick in your ass?" he asks me. I admit that I haven't. "From the moment I first saw you I knew you wanted my dick in your ass. You can tell me. Did you want my cock in you?" I don't answer. I'm wanting him to ram it in. "GODDAMMIT!" he exclaims as he grabs me by the neck and whispers in my ear "Do you want my fucking dick in your ass?" I breathe deeply. "No." I say. But I wanted it so bad.

"No? Fuck you no, bitch. You know you want it." He let's me go and I assume my position. "No, I don't want it." "Want what?" I moan. "Your dick. In my ass." He is grinning. I can tell my the way he's talking. "Fuck you." he says. He grabs me from behind by the shoulders and drives all seven inches of his cock into my ass on the first push. "OH MY GOD!" I exclaim. "NO!" I'm panting deeply and he's grinning the whole time. Somehow, he managing to drive his cock even deeper into my asshole with every stroke, and every last bit of that gorgeous hunk of meat is in there. "Yes!" He yells. "No!" I say "Stop, please!" "Fuck you!" He yells back, pumping me harder and harder every time going deeper and deeper into my willing, very willing asshole.

"OH my GOD!" I exclaim as I come hard onto the side of the tub. He's still pumping as he orders me to lean over and lick it off. I lean over and begin as I feel him drive very, very deep into me and shoot a wad of cum into my body. He moans pleasurefully. I can feel it inside of me, but he continues to pump. Harder and harder with every stroke, but he's already cum. he's just pumping me and pumping me as hard as he can. I continue licking up my cum. Finally, he shouts out in pain. "FUCKING HELL!" He stops and throws his arms around me. We fall asleep in the shower while still together.

My evening was something to talk of. I hardly ever experience anything that good, but when he leaves Tuesday, I'll be at the airport. He better believe he'll be returning to see me. All decked out and ready to work on my asshole.

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