Strung Tight Read online

  Published by Evernight Publishing at Smashwords

  http://www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2011 Berengaria Brown

  ISBN: 978-1-926950-33-4

  Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

  Editor: Kimberly Bowman

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my MM fans and in memory of childhood camping and campfire camaraderie.

  STRUNG TIGHT

  Berengaria Brown

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter One

  Jeff sat on the steps of his trailer in the setting sun, idly strumming his guitar. It seemed as though all around him people were hooking up, finding their Mr. or Ms. Right. But it’d been over a year since he’d had his own Mr. Right. Or even a Mr. Right Now. And that was pretty surprising since he worked in a strip club, The Howl and Pussy, here in Resort City.

  Resort City. He snorted. A pretentious name for reclaimed swampland. But the beaches were good, the climate pleasant, and it suited him to live here in obscurity. He’d done the rock band lifestyle, racing from city to city, drugs and women on tap. It was great fun for a twenty-year-old, but dead boring by the time you hit twenty-four. And at thirty, he was glad to be in this quiet trailer park, working as a song writer by day and guitarist in a strip club by night.

  But, damn, he wanted to sink his aching dick into a real ass, instead of just using his hand. And even more than that, he wanted the companionship of a genuine relationship with someone to care about. A man to share more than the weather and the price of gas with.

  It was almost dark. Time to shower and shave, get dressed in his work clothes, and head into town.

  ****

  Hamish Clark, the owner of The Howl and Pussy, nodded to Jeff as he stepped up on the stage under the spotlight and settled his guitar across his chest. His chest was bare, oiled and waxed, and he was wearing the obligatory skin-tight jeans and cowboy boots that would get him some good tips. Not that a lot of women came here, but he guessed the tips he got were more for his body than for his music.

  The club was dim with little tea candles on each table. From under his spotlight, Jeff couldn’t see much of anything anyway, but he had a good idea what was happening at many of the tables. And his music was just a background noise to disguise the customers’ grunts and groans, while the women who danced and stripped took their breaks.

  Shit, man, you’re cynical tonight!

  Nah, just realistic.

  As he played, Jeff noticed a blond man at the back of the club surrounded by a group of tourists. Even from here, he could tell the man was arguing, or maybe trying to convince the tourists about something. Hamish moved to serve at the bar, and the bar girls went over to the tourists. Jeff forgot about them, concentrating on his music.

  At the end of his set, he walked through the club, swinging his hips, flexing his chest, collecting tips as he went. When he stopped at the blond man’s table, Jeff’s cock pressed hard against his zipper. Damn, that blond’s hot. Hotter than hot. And those blue eyes. Incredible.

  The blond’s gaze rested on his for a heart-pounding moment, and Jeff’s cock stood up in delight. He’s interested in me too. Yee haw!

  The blond said something to the men at his table in a foreign language—German? Dutch?—then one of the men scooped a pile of dollar bills and coins off the table and handed them to Jeff. “Your music is good. You will sing again later?”

  “In half an hour, then again an hour after that.”

  He turned and looked at the blond. “I finish at midnight.”

  The blond gave a tiny nod, then said, “We’ll be leaving at eleven. The bus departs at eight in the morning, and we have much to see tomorrow.”

  A torrent of angry comments broke out, led by the man who’d tipped him. Jeff smiled and moved on to the next table, his heart beating faster in the knowledge—hope—that he would be seeing more of the blond that night.

  The rest of the evening seemed to drag by, but it was a good night for tips. The strip club was well-filled with patrons, and the dancers made good money, so he was happy for them. The staff was all locals, and most of them relied on the cash, with tourism the main industry around here. Having an outside job as well as this gig made him different from most of the people here.

  At midnight, he slung his guitar over his shoulder, took a last walk around the club collecting tips, then headed out to the parking lot. He stopped at his car to put the guitar in its case and then pulled a tee shirt over his head.

  “Well fuck. Just when I was enjoying the view.”

  Jeff spun around and there was the blond, arms folded across his chest, hips thrust out, his cock very obvious through the thin material of his pants. Jeff let his eyes rest on the erection and was thrilled when it grew.

  “I’m enjoying the view, too,” he said huskily.

  “You’re Jeff. I liked your music. I’m Pete.”

  The men shook hands. Pete’s skin was hot, but not sweaty. Jeff felt tension curl in his belly and his dick was twitching.

  “Well…” Jeff cleared his throat. He was so filled with lust he could hardly talk. “Your place or mine?”

  “Oh yours, definitely yours. Unless you want a dozen German tourists commenting on everything we do tonight?”

  “That would be a big fat no. Hop in the car. I live in the trailer park and it’s not far.

  There were a few moments of silence as Jeff pulled out of the parking lot. Then they spoke together.

  “Have you lived here long?”

  “Do you bring tour parties here often?”

  They both laughed, then Jeff said, “You first.”

  “I’m on my first tour with this company. My folks were military and Dad was stationed in Germany most of my childhood, which made translating an easy career choice. I got tired of sitting at a desk nine to five. I found translating interesting and challenging, but I’m over the whole desk job thing. That’s why I signed up with this tour company. But these men…” Pete shook his head and sighed. “God, they’re useless and hopeless. Everything is too hot or too cold, too loud or too soft, too old or too new. Pretty much, they want everything to be just like home. I dunno why the fuck they came on vacation.”

  “Yeah, I thought they were arguing back in the club.”

  “Uh-huh. Half of them wanted to go to the nudist beach even though it was dark. Mind you, the strip club was pretty dark, too, but at least they got to look at the women on the stage.”

  Jeff pulled up beside his trailer. “We’re here,” he said unnecessarily, climbing out of the car and getting his guitar case off the backseat. He opened the door of his home, flipped on the lights, and waved his arm toward the dining area.

  “Want some coffee? Or maybe a beer?”

  “Oh God, don’t mention beer!” wailed Pete. “Did you know under the Reinheitsgebot only water, barley, yeast, and hops can be used to make pure German beer. The law dates back to the fifteenth century and wasn’t repealed until 1987. And since then beer hasn’t been the same!” The last sentence was uttered in a deeply mournful tone, belied by Pete’s dancing blue eyes and a half-suppressed grin.

  “Well, I guess you could have offered to drink a glass of each brand of beer to find the one they were most likely to approve of,” Jeff suggested, putting the coffee on.

&nb
sp; “Trust me, I’ve thought about it. The only thing that prevents me from getting drunk every day is the knowledge that I couldn’t deal with them all with a hangover.”

  “So are you planning to quit?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ll get the greatest pleasure from telling them to stick this job where the sun doesn’t shine in—” he looked at his watch “—three days, twelve hours and twenty-two minutes.”

  “Not that you’re counting,” Jeff laughed.

  “Exactly! Then, I’ll need to find another job and I doubt they’ll give me a reference. But that’s a problem for another day. Let’s talk about you. How did you get into the guitar-playing business?”

  “Joined a band at seventeen. Did the circuit from twenty to twenty-four, then got tired of the endless traveling, the drugs, the drunks, the non-stop parties with people I didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

  “Like you, I tried a desk job, and found it got old quick. Now, I live here, write a few songs, play some guitar, and bum around on the beach. It’s not a bad life at all.”

  “It sounds like heaven,” said Pete enviously. “But I can’t see this town needing someone who speaks excellent German, reasonable Italian, and mediocre French. Unfortunately.”

  The two men gazed into each other’s eyes. Lust exploded like a visible force, and Jeff took two hurried paces to close the gap between them. Pete stepped into Jeff’s embrace and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist, lifting his face for a kiss.

  Jeff gently pressed his lips to Pete’s, then swiped his tongue along the seam of the blond’s mouth. He opened and Jeff slid his tongue inside, enjoying Pete’s taste of coffee and mints and something spicy.

  He trailed his tongue behind Pete’s teeth and along the insides of his cheeks, then tangled it with Pete’s in an erotic dance, before sucking the blond’s tongue into his mouth.

  They didn’t break the kiss until both of them were breathless. Even then, Jeff nibbled on Pete’s lower lip and ran his hands up and down the man’s spine, wanting to get closer, needing to be inside him, right now, but not wanting to seem to be rushing or coercing the blond.

  Jeff pulled Pete’s shirt up, stroking the soft skin, loving the feel of muscles and bones and sinews moving under his touch. “Take it off,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “You too. I liked the look of your chest in the club.”

  They broke apart a few inches and shed their shirts. Jeff took Pete’s hand and led him to the end of the trailer where he sank onto the sofa and pulled Pete onto his lap. Teasingly, Pete rubbed his ass across Jeff’s cock, making him groan. “If you keep that up, I’ll get zipper burn!”

  Pete stood up. “Well, take your pants off. I’d like to see your cock.”

  “Together. We’ll take them off together,” replied Jeff, standing as well.

  It took Jeff a few minutes to get his boots and socks off and Pete watched him. Pete had bare feet inside his loafers, so that part of the program had taken him all of one second.

  They stood facing each other, hands on belts, and, like the dancers in the strip club, they slowly undid their belts, pulled them out of the loops, dropped them to the floor, then unzipped.

  Pete remained still and watched as Jeff spread the fly of his jeans wide, displaying dark blue briefs. He put his hands on his hips and nodded to Pete.

  Pete’s pants were a lot looser than the jeans Jeff was wearing. Just as he’d hoped, when Pete opened them, the pants slid to the floor, leaving him in his tighty whiteys.

  Jeff pushed his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them, then hooked a finger in one side of his briefs. Pete mirrored his actions, stepping out of his pants and sliding the underwear down an inch or two on one side.

  Turning forty-five degrees, Jeff slid his briefs off his butt, leaving it exposed, but his cock covered. He turned his head over his shoulder, watching to see what Pete would do next.

  Pete turned his back to him, dropped his underwear to the floor, pushed his ass out, and bent his knees, displaying his puckered rosette for Jeff. It was the sexiest ass Jeff had ever seen, the hole a deep pink, beckoning him to sink his aching dick in it. Below the yummy anus, in the gap between Pete’s legs, his balls hung, and Jeff had to lick his lips and swallow hard, they looked so delicious. He couldn’t wait to get them in his mouth.

  But wait? Was that the edge of a tattoo showing on the inside of Pete’s thigh? God! What other treasures was the blond hiding? And he had a little secret yet to display himself. “Turn around,” he ordered, hoping not to sound as needy as he felt.

  “Drop your pants and we’ll turn together,” suggested Pete, his voice alive with laughter.

  Jeff turned his back, pulled off his underwear, and looked over a shoulder, resting one hand lightly across his hot, hard cock. Pete had straightened up and was looking across at him.

  Jeff couldn’t help a huge grin spreading across his face. This man was perfect for him. Hell, he hadn’t had this much fun in a year, and they weren’t even in bed yet!

  “On the count of three. One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three!” they called together, turning to face each other.

  It was a tattoo! A swirling tribal pattern, spiraling and twisting and turning from the upper inside of Pete’s left thigh, across his groin and lower belly, to just below his bellybutton. It was a maze of black and blue and red lines, an intricate, yet clean, pattern that drew his gaze unerring to the man’s cock. And what a beautiful cock it was. Red and thick and long, pre-cum already beading in the slit of a fat, flat head he couldn’t wait to suck.

  “Very nice,” he managed to say.

  Pete’s gaze was glued to Jeff’s cock. He didn’t even look up when he said, “I’ve always wondered what one of those would feel like inside me. It’s a Prince Albert piercing, isn’t it? Damn but I’ve hit the jackpot tonight.”

  “I aim to make sure you’ll come harder than you’ve ever come before,” said Jeff, pulling Pete into his arms and rubbing their cocks together.

  Pete lifted his face to be kissed, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s waist and rubbing his nipples across Jeff’s chest. When they broke apart from kissing, Pete whispered, “I don’t think I can wait any longer. I need you inside me, now.”

  “That’s what I want, too.”

  Jeff held Pete’s hand as they walked through the living area, down the hallway, and into the bedroom. The curtains were closed and Jeff didn’t turn any lights on, but he left the door open. Light from the living room shone in enough for them to see what they were doing, but gave a more romantic atmosphere than the overhead lights.

  Jeff pulled his quilt down then dragged Pete into his arms for another kiss. This time they were more impatient, and the kiss was harsher, more desperate, both of them seeking to convey that time for foreplay had run out. “Climb on the bed while I get the supplies,” he said.

  Jeff rummaged in the drawer, pulling out condoms and lube, while Pete lay on his back, head resting on his hands, feet flat on the mattress, cock sticking straight up.

  “Damn that’s hot. You’re hot,” said Jeff, kneeling in front of him.

  Pete pulled his legs up and apart, balancing them on his forearms, saying, “I wanted you the minute I saw you on that stage, the spotlight gleaming off your pecs and abs, and you concentrating on the guitar, ignoring everyone.”

  “You can’t see much with the lights in your eyes and the room dim. But I saw you and wanted you, too.” As he spoke, Jeff drizzled lube into Pete’s ass, his fingers rubbing it around the entry and into the walls of his hot, dark channel.

  Pete’s hips thrust up into the finger strokes as Jeff added more lube and a second digit, stretching and softening the tissues. Soon, he added a third finger, then, satisfied Pete was ready, he rolled a condom over his cock. “I can’t ever remember my dick being this hard before,” he said as he pressed it to Pete’s ass.

  Pete wiggled a little, Jeff pushed forward and his cock popped through the tight sphincter muscle
and slid into the hot channel. Both men sighed in relief, and Pete let go of his legs to rest them high on Jeff’s shoulders. Jeff nudged his body tighter to Pete’s and slowly withdrew until just the head of his cock was inside, then pushed in again.

  “Damn, that Prince Albert feels good. The barbell gives an extra zing every time you move,” said Pete, shivering a little.

  Pete’s skin was hot so Jeff knew it was an erotic shudder. He’d originally gotten the piercing as his own little secret after a relationship had broken up. Since then, he’d realized that, if used tactically, it gave his partner intense pleasure, too.

  Jeff held the blond’s hips and concentrated on pushing in and dragging his cock along Pete’s walls on the way out, gradually moving faster, thrusting harder and deeper. Pete held Jeff’s arms, moving in rhythm with him, his cock bobbing between them, dripping with arousal.

  In, out, faster, harder, deeper Jeff pounded into Pete’s ass. Both men slammed together, skin sweaty, breaths coming in harsh pants, the bed rocking with the force of their fucking.

  “Oh, God, yes,” groaned Pete, his cock erupting between their joined bodies. The sight of his partner climaxing was so carnal Jeff came instantly, too, his cock blasting into the condom in spurt after spurt of cum as Pete’s cock still erupted between them.

  Jeff slowed his movements, and then withdrew his cock, tied off the condom and dropped it into the trash can beside the bed. “The bathroom’s tiny but I reckon we’ll both squeeze into it,” he said, pulling Pete up off the bed and leading the way.

  Chapter Two

  Pete relaxed in the bed beside Jeff. It’d been a long time since he’d had someone he cared about, and Jeff was a man he knew he could come to care about. Such a damn shame he’d be leaving Resort City tomorrow. But, in a little over three days he’d be quitting his job and he could return, if he chose to. Although, he was damned if he knew what kind of job he could get here. I can’t really see myself as a male stripper. But still, he’d be more than willing to come for a while, see if this thing with Jeff grew into more than just a fling.