Torrid Affair 2

He was almost disappointed. There were a lot of women there, a whole lot. And all of them were deep into getting blitzed out of their minds. It looked like he was the only male there, beyond the staff anyway. However, despite his glasses, and ponytail, the ladies seemed happy to see him, in fact he had to dodge more than a few enthusiastically groping hands. And he was still fully dressed. Trey hit the aged bar for a shot of scotch to get up the guts to go take his clothes off for them. Once he hit the stage, he'd be fine.

Stage fright was something that happened before a performance, never during, but this... He looked around at all the seriously drunk women. This was just plain scary. Leonora came out of the crowd wearing a slinky red dress that almost contained her boobs and butt. Looping her arm through his, she led him all the way to the back, where the men's room was. "Okay, do you need help getting ready?" She winked suggestively. Good God no! Trey threw up his hands, his smile tight with alarm. "That's quite okay, I'm good!" Leonora set her hands behind her and pouted.

"Okay." She waved him into the bathroom. "Well go get naked, we'll put on the music when you get on the stage."

Trey gave her a thumbs-up and bolted into the men's room with his tiny bag. He must have been out of his mind to agree to this. The men's room was huge, hospital green and pristinely clean. He could smell the fresh pine cleaner. Probably because he was the only guy there. Sighing, Trey walked into the biggest stall, the one with the handrails all the way around it, and dropped his bag. Crouching, he opened it and dug out his tall black leather pirate boots, the tiny leather pouch for his dick and a bottle of clear lube. His skin was sensitive to oils, so rather than baby oil he figured the edible lube he'd picked up at `Presario's' would work on his chest and ass for shine.

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It was water soluble, so it ought to come off easier than oil. The g-string fit, but just barely. The tall boots were fine. They went up over his knees but he'd broken them in really well at the last competition. He tugged the elastic from his hair and took off his glasses. A quick brush made his hair fall just past his shoulders rather nicely. He stepped out of the stall and stood in front of the full-length mirror against the far wall. Time for a shine. Smiling sourly, he poured a handful of lube and started smearing it on his chest. It was certainly shiny -- and smelled like vanilla. He supposed it was far better to smell like a pudding, or an ice cream rather than something fruity like strawberries.

He poured more goop into his hand and started working on his ass and upper thighs. By the time he was done, the smell of vanilla was over powering. Trey walked over to the tiny window and cranked it open to get some fresh air in there. Trey walked over to the men's room door and prepared to run for it. He was going to have to run if he wanted to make it to the stage, through all those drunken women, with his g-string still on. He smiled and took a deep breath. He was definitely going to need another shot of whiskey when this was over too. Trey launched out the door and jogged with a huge grin pasted across his face.

Screams and whoops erupted all around him. He dodged and twisted through the ladies and leaped onto the stage, arms out, head up and ready to rumba. And right there in front of him, leaning against the back wall, was the guy - the guy from the adult toy store in black jeans and a black muscle shirt that showed off his gorgeously defined arms. "I'd like to see that, you dancing." Trey blinked in astonishment. So did the guy. In fact, his mouth fell open and he straightened, his arms falling slack to his sides. Then he frowned, as though puzzled. What was he doing here? Trey almost frowned, but he latched onto his wits and kept his smile pinned on. The salsa music crashed into Trey's ears and he went into action.

It was automatic, and instantaneous. He whirled in place, arms out then slammed his heels and started rolling his spine and rocking his hips to the pounding music. His patented, `you know you wanna fuck me' smile bloomed across his face. The open admiration of the women, and the scotch he'd downed, encouraged him to twirls and spins. The music switched but Trey's boot-heels kept thumping in perfect time. He dropped to his knees threw out his arms and bucked his hips, tossing his hair and panting for breath. The women whistled, screamed and tossed money at him. Encouraged, Trey leapt up onto his feet, and dropped face down in a push-up position and rolled from butt to shoulder and back like he had a body under him, tossing his hair for good measure, and all without touching the stage floor. He then flipped over onto his heels and shoulders and bucked upwards too. The screaming escalated.

The money increased. Trey hopped onto his feet and circled the stage, shaking his ass, rolling his hips and panting for breath while the women shoved money down his tall boots. Laughing, he tossed his hair and just barely managed to keep his g-string out of the hands of the more enthusiastic women. The guy from `Presario's' inched closer to the stage frowning, his arms crossed. Trey simply could not resist. He moved toward him rocking, swaying, and shaking his ass. He spun around, his blond hair flying, to give the guy a good look at his ass, and dropped hard to his knees right in front of him. The guy looked straight into his face and his eyes opened very wide. Trey winked, and blew him a kiss, then lunged up onto his feet and bolted to the far end of the stage. The music slammed into a finish and ended.

The women screamed, and threw more money. Trey scooped up as much cash as he could, shoved it into his boots and made a mad dash for the men's room. Yep he was out of his mind. Panting and sweating, Trey leaned against the metal wall of the huge stall and peeled his boots off, scattering crushed and wadded bills everywhere. He smiled. Apparently, he was a hit. He didn't bother to count it, just pulled his folded clothes out of his bag, and stuffed all the money in, as-is. He'd un-wad all of it, and count it once he got home.

Barefoot and wearing only his g-string, he padded over to the sinks to try and get some of the sweat and goop off before he climbed back into his clothes. Unfortunately, the lube proved difficult to get off. A lot of wet paper towels and handfuls of the bathroom's poor excuse for soap later, he finally realized that it was going to take a shower to get the vanilla scent off his skin. He groaned. He was going to smell like a freaking pudding cake all the way home. "Damn, something smells good enough to eat in here."

The voice was masculine and very familiar. At the sink, soapy paper towels in hand, Trey froze. He closed his eyes. 'No way... He did not follow me in here.' He opened his eyes and turned to look. The guy smiled from the doorway. "You were right; you are a damned good dancer." Oh shit... Trey smiled weakly. "Um, thanks." The guy sniffed and frowned. "What in God's name...? Is that vanilla smell, you?" Trey felt his cheeks heat and looked down at the sink. "I'm sensitive to oils, so I used..." No way, he was going to say 'lube'. "I used something else, and its Vanilla flavored." What am I saying!?! He looked up at the guy in shock. "Scented! Vanilla scented!"

"Is that so?" The guy grinned and approached his gait slow and easy, a stalking predator. "I don't know. You smell pretty tasty to me." Watching him closing in, Trey's heart thumped in his mouth. I think I am in serious trouble here. He swallowed. "I think I should check and see." The guy's brows lifted. "Take a taste-test." A taste test...? Trey sucked in a breath, dropped the paper towels in his hand and backed away. "Uh, let's not, okay?" The guy's smile sharpened, showing very white and very even teeth. "After that display up on the stage, right in front of God and everybody, now you're shy?" Trey backed into the wall. "How about -- not gay?" The guy snorted. "Good, me neither." He lunged. Trey twisted around him and bolted. The guy reached out almost casually, and snagged Trey's wrist, spinning him. "Oh no you don't, you little cock-tease!" Panicked, Trey swung his fist. The guy caught it in his hand. "Spirit! I like that." Trey stared at his fist captured in a hand bigger than his. "Shit..."

"Good idea." The guy tugged Trey into him and casually twisted both of Trey's arms behind him, holding him close, Trey's naked chest to his black muscle-shirted chest. There was a huge erection under the guys black jeans, pressing against Trey's crotch. Unfortunately, there was an erection growing in Trey's g-string too. He bit down on his lip. "Fuck!"

"Before you go screaming for help..." The guy started walking forward pushing Trey back, step by step. "Keep in mind that you and I are the only guys in here, besides the employees. Do you honestly think any of those women out there can do anything for you?" Trey took one breath after another. No, they couldn't, not against this guy. He was fucked. "Look I'm sorry I teased you..."

"Oh?" He kept pushing Trey backwards. "I'm not. I kind of liked it. I liked watching you shake your ass up there - right in front of me." He maneuvered Trey into the big bathroom with all the safety rails, then back against the long wall. "The way you moved made me wonder what you'd look like when you came." He smiled from only a kiss away. "Okay, that's enough!" Trey struggled, jerking at his wrists. "Let me go!"

"I don't think so." The guy pressed his chest against Trey's pinning him against the wall. He clasped both of Trey's wrists behind him in one big hand and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "This was supposed to be a gag gift." He ratcheted one side open. "Oopsie, I kind of forgot to give it to the bride, about the same time I saw you, wiggling your tight ass in my direction." He reached behind Trey. "No, stop!" Trey shoved at the guy, but it was like shoving at a wall. The cuff closed around his wrist. "Oh, God!" Then it closed around the other. Oh fuck... The guy stepped back, releasing Trey. Trey tugged. The cuffs were around both wrists and looped through the safety bar. He pulled, straining. The damned things wouldn't break either. He was well and truly caught. "Oh, nice." The guy smiled and tugged the hem of his shirt free from his jeans. "Struggle some more. It shows off all that muscle in your chest and arms." Trey glared at him. "Asshole."

"What, on our first date?" The guy laughed; a deep, low, and sinful sound. "I really don't think you're ready for that." He pulled the shirt up and over his head, then tossed it on top of Trey's bag. Trey gasped. The guy's chest, stomach, and arms, were cut and defined like a god, but it wasn't gym-meat; big bulky muscles from weight lifting. This guy was built like someone who had gained his bulk the hard way; through constant use. He wondered what it would feel like to touch it. A hot bolt of erotic heat spilled into his dick, and made it throb. The guy's brows lifted. "Like what you see?"

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