Hello Baby
by: Staley Cole Smith
© 2022 by the Author
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
scsmith@tickiestories.us
Part 1
2
Dottie was a champion specimen of a lesbian. She possessed the qualities of toughness with a no-nonsense attitude. I can’t say she was one of my favorite people to be around. However, Dottie was Dottie, and in my world, she was difficult to avoid.
During the day, she slung hash at a nearby country eatery, which was a poor excuse for a restaurant. In the evening, she tended bar at Hero’s, a local gay bar. Dottie was hard working, I’ll give her that, but she was also a bitch without a bike. Serving people day and night, crowded her sense of decency, and it was beginning to show.
Jack, the owner of Hero’s, who was an overweight drag queen, liked having Dottie around. The gay kids imitated her sarcasm going back and forth at each other being clever. If you ask me, it was dumb.
Dottie could handle any situation between three screaming queens or a couple of straight troublemakers who’d wander into the wrong bar to punch out a queer... I would ignore the haters, but not Dottie. When she grabbed a club and came around that bar, it was time to move – and fast.
It was Friday on a hot July evening…
“Hi, queen – what brings Miss Kitty out tonight? Oh, don’t tell me, you are trolling again,” she said with a sarcastic laugh.
“It’s a real possibility,” I replied. “What’s new in Lesbo land?”
Dottie gave me one of those ‘get real’ looks but didn’t say a word. She just folded her arms and stood there like a Nazi German officer.
“Okay peaches, what’ll you have? I don’t have all fuckin night.”
“Just beer and please call me Pete. I hate peaches. It’s so fruity!”
“Too fruity! - No problem, you are more banana than peach anyway,” she mumbled and walked away.
“What does the banana remark supposed to mean, I called out after her?”
“Jesus, do I have to explain everything? You ain’t that fuckin dumb.”
“Okay – okay” I replied.
“Peter, sweetie, let’s talk business here for a second. Can I sell you a ticket to the gay picnic on Sunday, at the cove? Maybe two tickets.” Dottie asked, sounding like a real pal.
Sweetness always poured from her lips, when she wanted something from the gay crowd.
“Sure, give me a couple.”
I put the tickets in my shirt pocket, forty bucks poorer, and picked up my beer. I walked over to a small table near the wall and sat down. A little of Dottie’s remarks can be painful. Moreover, she gossips about everybody, so I avoid her, if possible.
I sensed somebody standing curiously close next to me. A hand gently touched my shoulder. I jumped a little, but being touched was common in a gay bar.
“Mind if I share this table with you?” A man said to me. The bar was dark, but I could see he was fine and spoke well. There was nothing dramatic about him. I thought he was probably straight, in the wrong bar. He was close to my age, probably around forty, who knows, just average. I like average.
“Be my guest, there’s nobody stopping you.”
“Thanks – I’m not hitting on you. I just want to sit down before this place fills up. It’s Friday and it gets packed about this time.”
“You’ve been here before?” I asked
“A couple of times, but I’m not trying to hit on you, don’t worry.”
“Oh, and I thought I was getting hit on.”
“You tempt me, but not that much.” My name is Manny.
“Peter.”
“I know. I’ve seen you before.”
“Do I know you?”
“You do now,” he said as his hand went on my leg.
“You’re not interested, but you want something.”
“Yes, I do,”
His hand gently massaged me under the table and I liked it. Our knees also touched.” It was a childish move by a stranger.
Dottie brought a couple of drinks to the table. Here you go, ladies. The drinks are on that skinny faggot by the window. His name is Tony or some damn thing. He’s kinda cute.
Dottie can really piss me off at times, but it’s part of the game!
My name is Peter, not lady. Being gay doesn’t mean you are automatically a queen. I’m gay, sure, so what?
I waved ‘thank you,’ to Tony and he responded by smiling and nodding his head. He stared at me for the longest time.
Manny removed his hand from my leg before Dottie noticed, depriving her of fuel for some nasty comment. My crotch was semi swollen, so I remained seated.
“You would never go out with me - would you Peter?” Manny said.
“Never go out with you? - What makes you say that?”
“League man – league. I’m not in your league.”
“That’s not very friendly,” I told him. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, but it’s honest.”
Manny stood up like a slapped puppy. He picked up his beer and walked back to where the young hottie’s were dancing.
“What the hell was that all about?” I thought to myself!”
I don’t like head games! Actually, I don’t like games at all. Tell me what you want and if we connect, that’s good. I’m just not into horse crap.
Tony was still leaning against the wall. He zeroed in with a warm stare and licked his lips. For sure, he was eager and it excited me. Moves like that always do!
He came over to the table where Manny had been sitting. “Did your friend leave?”
“I think he is dancing.”
“You’re Tony, who sent over the drinks. Thanks.”
“Yeah, that’s me - I’m Tony, mind if I sit here?”
“He’s coming back.” I don’t know why I answered that way.
“No problem,” he said, and left, mingling with the crowd.
It didn’t help my ego watching him leave. However, it was time for me to move on.
I left the table and took a seat at the bar. Even with the insults, Dottie was somebody to talk to.
“What’s the matter Peter, are the hot men avoiding you tonight?”
“It looks that way.”
“It’s the cologne.”
“I don’t use cologne.”
“A-huh,” she mumbled, continuing to wipe the bar with a wet rag.
“Well, I don’t. I am naturally delicious.” I could have stuck that rag up her twat; but Dottie was being Dottie!
Someone crowded in beside me, almost spilling my drink. It was Manny.
‘Hey, you’re back.”
“Yeah, I’m back.” He said - “Sorry Pete, I just want to touch you.”
“I hear that a lot.”
“I bet you do. I’m not worried.” He mumbled winking at me.
Manny was husky compared to me. He wasn’t heavy, just solid and sexy like a baseball player with an ass you’d want to bite. His hair cut short and black. His face sported a beard trimmed around his cheeks and mouth. He seemed to have everything, with a little extra thrown in!
We stood side by side talking about things I cannot remember. It was just talking.
The beer was getting to me, so I headed for the restroom. The men’s room had two urinals side by side (how convenient) for looking and grabbing.
The person, next to me put his hand on my dick. I thought it was Manny, but it was the dude, Tony.
I finished, washed my hands, and walked out. Tony was still standing by the urinal. (No surprise there)
Back at the bar, Manny asked me if I was all right.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I thought maybe you got off.”
“Nope, I’m saving that! Why, do I look empty?”
“What are you saving it for anyway?” Manny asked taking a sip of his beer.
“Sunday!”
“What’s special about Sunday?”
“The picnic - Are you going to Jack’s barbeque picnic on Sunday?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t blend with those screaming gay kids and a bunch of dykes. I would feel like a jerk, hanging around by myself.”
“Not so. You would probably get raped in the weeds by a hot dude.”
“You think so?” He said, “You’re a hot dude.”
I took a ticket from my shirt pocket and touched it to Manny’s nose.
“What’s this?”
“Your ticket to the weeds. I bought a couple of them, just to shut Dottie up!”
“Go with me? All the beer you can drink including barbeque ribs and chicken dinners. Jack puts on a cool spread.”
“Is this a date?” Manny asked.
“I guess one could say that. However, you don’t have to hang with me. It’s not really a date.”
“I will go, but let’s call it a date! I get to kiss you if it’s a date.”
I made one more trip to the men’s room before leaving. This time Manny followed me. There was a couple in the room pinned against the wall kissing as we went in. They completely ignored us. More people were trying to get into the men’s room, so we swiftly got out of there.
It was near last call, and the typical few minutes scramble was taking place. It always amazed me how desirable people become at closing time.
We walked to the parking lot, across from the tavern. I parked by a chain-link fence, and Manny parked further away, so I gave him a lift to his car.
On the short ride over, we talked and talked. “Peter, I have to tell you something, Manny began softly.
“Wait – let me guess! You are married, but you would never leave because you love her. However, you are a gay man trapped in a straight marriage! How am I doing so far?”
“That’s pretty good!”
“What made you think I was married? Was it gossip from Dottie?”
“Nope, Dottie never mentioned your name. It is the indentation on your finger. I noticed your ring finger when you were holding a glass of beer. I figured it had to be from a wedding band.”
“Does that (being married) bother you?”
“It doesn’t bother me. The last thing I need is a boyfriend. I like the idea of sex without cupid! Can you handle that?”
“Sure, I can handle that.”
“I can too.”
I wanted to kiss him, but the console between the front seats made it rather awkward. We got out of the car and walked over to where he parked.
It was dark and nobody was close by. Manny pulled me into his chest. His mouth covered my lips and for the next few minutes, the lip sucking and tongue exploration got me tingling and romantic.
It was a feeling of instant love, but of course, I knew better. There would be no love in this grab fest, and I knew that.
“I need to leave,” Manny said.
“Yeah, me too, it’s really late!”
“You won’t stand me up, will you Peter?”
“Only if I die in my sleep.”
“Be there!” he yelled after me.
I uttered something idiotic and drove away into the early morning darkness.
Part
2
1
It was Saturday, and I slept for nearly nine hours waking up and feeling good. I showered with the water sensation of wonderful, drowning faults that were not even there.
Dottie’s girlfriend Julie organizing the event, asked me to pick up some paper supplies, so that was on my afternoon agenda.
The next day, Sunday morning, I hit the shower again as usual. I dressed simply for the picnic, putting on worn jeans (no underwear) and a sky blue tee shirt.
I looked plain, but hunky, with my junk nicely bulged on the right side. I smelled good too, using Irish Spring soap.
I started growing a beard and it was at the meager point of being decent. Today, I was paying attention to details, such as “looking good.”
The aroma of barbecue beef and charcoal-grilled chicken drifted across the parking lot. Cars were parked everywhere; lord only knows where everybody came from.
Julie was there working the grill, loaded with half chickens smoking with foil-wrapped whole potatoes. Her girlfriend Dottie was basting ribs with barbecue sauce. Assorted food dishes, spread across picnic tables, appeared to be quite the feast.
There was also a table for deserts and liquor. The beer was on tap with a hunky stud bartender. Jack known for surprises, hired a bartender named Cooper, purely for eye candy.
At first, I didn’t see Manny, then, I spotted him talking to Jamie, a flamboyant young swish with pink hair, but a good body. Jamie was on a manhunt, but it didn’t bother me. Everybody there, was crotch watching, including me.
Manny looked spotless, in pale yellow shorts and a beige tank top. He had muscular tan arms and legs. His hair was short and shaved around his neck. He was much better looking in daylight. His butt was a definite turn-on for me, and others too, who had the good sense to love a great ass.
“Yo awesome, you look good enough to kidnap,” said Manny, and gave me a manly hug. “Hello baby, he whispered in my ear, so no one could hear.
“Yeahhh hello,” I replied – It was a dumb comeback, but how does one answer a greeting like that, from a hot married man?
Manny had a remarkable looking mouth. I never realized that somebody’s mouth could be sexy. His upper lip curled a bit when he spoke and his lower lip rose over his handsome teeth as he pronounced words.
Gaud, I must be a slut, just wanting to get inside his mouth. I tried not to stare as he spoke, but believe me, it was difficult.
I felt comfortable being around Manny. He was honest and carefree talking about himself being gay, yet coming across as straight. He didn’t talk about being married, and it was just as well. Why ruin a picnic with realism.
“C’mon, let’s check out the hiking trail along the rocks!”
“Okay let’s” He answered.
We walked for about 20 minutes when I stopped to look at large cracks in split rocks with weeds growing out of it.
Manny put his arms around my waist from behind. It felt awesome like a scene from Wuthering Heights. I could feel his junk pressed against my ass.
He pushed his hand down the front of my jeans and touched my dick. I wasn’t wearing underwear making it easy for him. I am not a boy scout but come always prepared.
In the distance, people were coming towards us walking the trail. They were laughing, yelling, and caring on like faggots loose in the city. Good grief!
Manny kept pushing his junk into my backside but stopped as the hikers got closer.
He took his warm palm from my crotch and brought it to his side.
“Peter,” he said, “I would like to completely hold you; but not in front of the dykes who are coming this way.”
There were a couple of flamboyant talking queens there also, and Jamie was one of them.
“Hey look bitches,” – it’s Peter, screamed Jamie wearing a lavender hair wig, looking like Dame Edna.
“Are you on your way to grandmother’s house?” Babbled a jerk called Bobby. He went by the name - ‘Bunny.’
He was not at all pretty for a gay boy. His jokes were lousy too.
“Oh, you must be the big bad wolf,” added Scarlet, (whose real name was Louis) I expected at any time, –“fiddle dee.”
Scarlet was a senior drag queen from thirty years ago. He completely zeroed in on Manny, shaking a walking stick at him.
“C’mon,” said Manny, I don’t like this.”
He didn’t speak to anybody; instead walked away. I went with him back to the picnic area.
“I hate that girlish talk. What’s the point?” He said handing me a beer in a plastic cup. It was cold from the tap.
“I don’t like it either, but that’s what some young and old gays do for fun.
“Yeah, well it’s pretty dumb. C’mon Peter, let’s get out of here before you change your mind, about being with me.”
“That’s not likely,” I said.
We left the picnic, never using our meal tickets, and went to a dumpy motel off the main highway. The room was cheap and tacky, but private.
Manny’s tongue slid slowly like velvet over my lips and into my mouth. I wanted him to be all over me, with that fabulous mouth.
I was mistaken when it came to knowing what pleased Manny. I was certain; this was going to be a hot blowjob session! maybe not.
Manny stripped and stretched out on top of the bed. “Play with my ass.” He commanded. “C’mon baby, take care of me. Do it, Peter!”
I didn’t need any coaxing. I licked him as he wanted, and fingered him gently, feeling how tight he felt.
I couldn’t hold back much longer. His movements were drawing my dick to a dark warm cavern. I slipped a condom on my cock and spread his legs apart. He was moist like a lizard. It was exhilarating.
“Go ahead, but don’t laugh. I love my ass played with and fucked. I didn’t tell you that before.”
“What happened? - Did you have a change of heart?”
“I lied – I always lie about that. There is nothing worse, than a screwed up married man.”
It took a little effort getting my dick inside him since he was so tight. I saw that I was hurting him by the expression on his face, but he never complained. He felt so inviting and warm, that victory was making a winner out of me.
"Oh, that’s incredible!" He finally mumbled.
I felt my own juices rise. Shooting a full load into the condom buried deep inside Manny, was all I could think about doing, so I did it.
I like winning, especially over married men! I am not sure if I won or not, but at least I am consistent.
He became aggressive and rolled me onto my back. He arched himself over my body as if he was going to do a push-up; but instead, his dick touched my nose.
“Open Peter!”
His cock went into my mouth, a little faster than I would have liked, but I took it.
He faced fucked me until I thought I would pass out. Nevertheless, I hung in there and complained only a little, when breathing became a problem.
He sat on my chest stroking and looking at me. I watched his remarkable mouth as he spoke and it weakened me. I wanted to get in there with my fingers and rub them over his teeth, licking and nibbling on his lips. I can’t explain it, – I just can’t.
“You’re a submissive ball of lust.”
“A-huh.”
“You want this?”
“Yeah.”
“Open your mouth.”
His balls tightened erupting streams of sticky sauce that filled my mouth, choking me as it ran down my throat. I reach between his legs to play with his butt again. I knew he would like me to do that.
“You’ve got me Peter; let’s see how useful you can be after you’ve already done me once.”
I understood now, that ‘nasty’ was all he wanted. We were in tune with each other's bodies, effortlessly with everything falling into place.
I understood that Manny didn’t want love, but he loved my dick, and that was good enough. He seemed mesmerized by touching and licking me.
He said, “Peter is a slut.”
“You’re in the ballpark now,” I replied.”
“Geezus – don’t I know it!”
We carried on like rubbish for at least an hour.
Today was closeness without caring. It was romance without emotion. It was a sick game, going at each other like monkeys in a zoo.
Manny maneuvered so he could get his mouth back on my cock. “Peter, give it to me,” he pleaded.
I didn’t need much encouragement for the second time. He was working in such a fearsome way. His talking got me to push out another sticky mess.
When I blasted into Manny’s mouth, the flow just wouldn't stop. I didn’t think I had that much left in me. He gurgled a little and swallowed. It was crazy watching him trying to keep up with the big boys.
“Peter, I wanted that, from the moment I touched you, but never thought I would get it.”
“Well, you did – twice!”
“Yeah, sure ‘nuff, did.”
It was a staggering experience and although we had the remainder of the day left, to be together, I was worn, tired, and getting hungry.
I just couldn’t do the third round. Manny had enough also. There was a role to play, and we played it like cougars.
Manny showered, but I didn’t join him. The bathroom was crummy and the shower was small and needed cleaning. However, he couldn’t go home cum stained, and smelling like a whorehouse. He had to wash!
As for me – I went back to the picnic and ate barbecue chicken with buttered dinner rolls, two mugs of cold beer, and a slice of custard pie.
By the time, I returned home, cum coating, my throat was gone. Goo, however, drying in my underwear, was uncomfortable. My balls working to replenish their honey were well on their way.
Manny and I didn’t meet again. I believed we would, but it didn’t happen. I don’t know if it was intentional or just one of those things.
Nobody, mentioned Manny, including Dottie, which seemed odd, since she gossiped about everybody.
I have plenty to remember and nothing to regret. Sometimes, I wish he were still here. Then again – I don’t!
********************************
The End
Posted: 02/11/2022