Shorts
Arcade
*snap*
Dante’s Inferno. A gathering place. A social haven. A place where teenaged humans waste their youth one quarter at a time. And a place I have been watching for weeks.
My name is Difford, for the here and now, and I sell arcade games. Well, I do much more than that as I pass my time in this reality, stranded in Earth's past by my own people’s jealousy of my superiority, even among the Continuum.
For now, I run a tech company, and our newest virtual-reality flagship, Arcade, is arriving tomorrow. As such, I need proper stages on which to exhibit its potential. Dante’s Inferno will do nicely for this flea-bitten city, but the location's foot traffic is hardly my primary attraction to it.
The tech boy, Nick, and his boyhood friend, Stilts. They caught my attention instantly, drawing an interest that goes far beyond their public talents. Nick, with his solid, full body, his gorgeous blonde hair, thick and straight and glossy, and his smooth, boyish features, those blue eyes, red lips, what’s not to notice? And his boyhood friend, Stilts. That red hair, those speckled hazel-and-blue eyes, those freckles, and so slim and lanky, and the way he moves! And his mischievous grin! Possibly a human after my own heart. If I were human. And if I had a heart. Well, for now, here, I am, and I do.
When I saw them together as I stepped into Dante’s Inferno, I knew I had found the right place. I could easily see their secret past together as one played and one watched -- different friends now. They’d been friends in childhood, almost inseparable. Two mon amis, if you will. They had spent their allowances at Dante’s, riding their bikes together, sometimes saving a few quarters for a burger and soda later. But then puberty had struck, and they both found themselves feeling things that scared them—for each other. And so they fostered their separate activities; Nick dove into books and circuitry, while Stilts took to skating and weed. As they grew into adolescence over the next couple of years, they grew apart. Nick grew taller and wider while Stilts barely grew wider and only a little taller. Mostly apart. Often seeing each other at the arcade.
The bookish Nick had stayed a virgin, too afraid of his attraction to other boys to act on it. He hid it well, mostly by staying alone. He liked being around all the other boys playing the games after school. It was… exciting. Though he was only really interested in one guy.
Stilts had smoked his way through two sexual encounters by now, both with older skater boys, just getting high together. Just messing around, as he thought of the hurried encounters. As he only had feelings for one dude.
I saw other interesting facets among the others around the games, but these two were fascinating. They'd always had, and still had, Dante’s Inferno. So why not get them together there?
I purchased the space and time for Arcade from the arcade’s owner under strict non-disclosure and secrecy. I left direct orders that the floor space for Arcade was not to be cleared until the night before the game arrived. And even then, after hours, under the strict pretext of confidential hardware prep. A corporate lie, of course. My real objective was far simpler: ensuring Nick and his old friend, Stilts, would come by for an unauthorized visit to inspect the game before the place opened the next morning.
I had kept both young men busy with other attractive young men all day, and too busy to do anything about it. Right up until they met in the alley beside Dante's Inferno.
I’m such a naughty Q. I mean, corporate cutthroat. Just a normal, human, capitalist.
Ten p.m.. Dante's Inferno was quiet, the heavy glass front doors double-locked against the rain outside. Row after row of arcade machines went dark, one by one, their marquee signs no longer throwing pulsing lights across each other, their multitudes of music, engines, and explosions stilled into the low hum of transformers and fans. Finster shook his head as he passed the new machine sitting in the back room, then locked the door to that room. Then he walked out the back door and locked both the deadbolts in it.
As the ripples of his passing were still echoing in the puddles outside the back door, along one side of the building, Nick stood in the shadows. A stolidly built young man—broad-shouldered, straight-sided, and softly filled out in a way that strained the fabric of his plain black t-shirt. The garment wasn't tight, but it clung flat against him, outlining the heavy, steady sweep of his sturdy frame. One unaccustomed to strenuous exercise or manual labor. Below, his dark jeans hugged the generous, heavy curves of his thighs and buttocks, and the generous bulge in front shifting with every rocking movement from side to side as he impatiently waited for Stilts.
He blew his breath out explosively, his exhalation coming in a practiced huff that blew a stray lock of white-blonde hair across his brow. He heard Stilts' skateboard come around the corner to the street.
“You ready?” Stilts asked casually as he rolled past on the rough alley pavement.
Nick ran to catch up. He was distracted by the way Stilts’ was pushing himself along on his board over the rough concrete, and how that extra effort showed in how his faded jeans revealed his lean butt and legs. The wife-beater showed off everything above his waist. The lean V of his build, the hint of ribs, possibly, not entirely hidden by his ever-present pack hanging from his narrow shoulders, freckled and pink from sun. His longish red hair was restrained by his cap and his eyes by his sunglasses. Even at night.
Nick sighed and ran to catch up. They stood next to each other, in front of the large window, smiling. Stilts stood with his board in one long, slim-fingered hand, just right so as to hide his crotch. His loose, faded jeans didn’t show much, usually, anyway. Not unless he was particularly excited and wasn’t wearing boxers over briefs, as he usually did anymore.
"You ready?" Stilts asked, lopsidedly grinning.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Let's go see this game," Stilts replied, his grin wide.
They dragged several pallets from the stack down the alley to stack beneath the window, and there, Stilts used a pocket knife to wiggle the latch on the window free. When it snapped aside, he grinned down at Nick, then pushed the tilting window in and up. Then he took off his cap and glasses, put them in his pack and pushed it through the slim opening. Then he slipped inside after it.
Nick passed Stilts his board through the low opening, then climbed over the sill himself. Stilts' hands were on his shoulders as he passed over the sill, and then along his broad sides, supporting him, and stayed there as he stood up. One of Stilts' hands reached up to brush some dust off the front of Nick’s black shirt. Several brushes.
“Guess there’s a lot of dust on the sill,” Nick said, taking over, touching fingers briefly.
His blunter, thicker fingers were not actually trying to push away Stilts’ longer, slimmer fingers intentionally, more out of how they made him feel. Especially with his nipples reacting. And they weren’t alone in reacting to the contact and the sight and even the smell of Stilts so close.
I wish you could sense how much faster his heart was racing, how shallow his breaths were in comparison to his usual. Both of them, for that matter. Neither understood why their eyes seemed so warmly dark when they stared into them, like they were now.
Nick truly adored how Stilts’ blue eyes held amber flecks that turned them green under the lights. It felt as if he could fall into their complex depths. Stilts felt he was staring into the blue arch of creation when he gazed into Nick’s incredibly sharply defined blue eyes. Their faces were smooth and flawless, and neither had ever shaved, nor would need to anytime soon.
Their nervous half-laughs and shuffling on their feet went unnoticed by the both of them.
There they stood, alone together for the first time in nearly two years. In such a familiar place. But so strange for it to be so brightly lit and so quiet. Just the hum of transformers and fans.
If you were standing there invisibly, you could smell them.
Ahhh.
Oh, the things they were thinking behind those blushes and grins!
If only I could nudge them. But… alas.
“So, let's go see this machine,” Nick finally said, afraid of saying what he wanted to say.
Stilts considered for a moment, then nodded. Nick took the opportunity to glance at the narrow buttocks on display as Stilts picked up his pack. Flashes of their bare beauty when they’d been twelve passed through his mind. And brief regret they still hadn’t shared a gym class since showers started. The brief flash of the waistband of his underwear sent a surge through his pecker.
Well… I refuse to use the more gauche descriptors. Your language can be so… gauche. And what I’d made sure they both endured all day long.
Stilts functioned first. The more daring and ballsy of the two, always. Now the shorter. And he enjoyed looking up into those big blue eyes. “I didn’t expect you to be so willing,”
Nick replied with both pale brows raised out of curiosity. And his heart raced! If he would just do what he was thinking!
"When I said we should come sneak in and get a first look at the new game before everyone else. I thought you'd say no." Stilts took a single step closer, still looking up into Nick's blue eyes. "Why didn't you?"
Nick looked down into Stilts' blue, amber flecked eyes. He felt his stomach tighten and his back shiver. He glanced down his friend's front then back up. His pecker jumped.
“So?” Stilts asked with a shrug and a wider grin showing his teeth. He threw on his sunglasses and continued, “Shall we?"
"What?" Nick asked, his rapid breaths showing through his black shirt, his erection still showing through his black pants.
“Ya never know until ya ask!” Stilts replied comically, then reached for Nick’s crotch with his free hand, making overt, exaggerated kissing motions with his juicy, red, grinning lips.
Nick slapped away the approaching hand and blew at a long lock of almost straight hair not hanging across his brow at the moment, red lips shining, square jaw wide.
Sigh.
You can almost hear the shorter, leaner Stilts sigh, can’t you? That was him, not me.
After which, he inhaled, then said, “You’re gonna owe me for this one.” Then he turned to the door.
Nick took this opportunity, too, to take in Stilts’ lean form as he headed toward the door. Almost too slim for a V, but his shoulders were wider than his hips. A bit. The jeans almost hinted at his slim butt, but were too soft and baggy. When he turned around, Nick hoped he could keep hiding his excitement in his tight black jeans. A quick manual check only worried him more. Too firm to hide easily, and so hard so many times all day long… he knew it was going to be a problem. “Just what am I going to owe you?” he asked.
“I don’t know, yet, but if I told you what I was thinking…” His grin over his shoulder was more than mischievous.
It reminded Nick of those times they’d done things worthy of trouble. Back when they’d been kids together. Friends together.
Perfect. Stilts was always a bit more bold, and with his experience, he only wanted Nick more. Undeniably more. The way Nick stood, he could tell he was hiding his hard-on. Or, trying to. It stood out in glorious contrast, making Stilts glad he was wearing boxers over briefs.
He nearly spoke his mind, but instead, turned to open the door. It was locked.
"Dang it!" he barked, then leaned down a bit to look closely at the lock above the knob. "Any ideas?"
Nick was having ideas as he watched Stilts' backside while he inspected the lock. "No, can't you pick it?"
"Pick it?" Stilts asked. He straightened up, shaking his head. They were stuck. There was no way he could pick the lock.
"This is your idea," Nick replied.
“Yeah. I always had to push you into everything,” Stilts recalled, his grin going lopsided again.
“You did. I kept you from doing the stupidest stuff, though,” Nick asserted, remembering, and wondering why he hadn't this time.
Nick's erection was obvious. Even though he had both hands as far into his pockets as he could get them, they did nothing to hide his excitement.
They were old buds, and old jokes and old jabs came up.
Stilts considered, “Kind of funny, I was always the tall one, but now you are. Still, though, I bet mine’s still bigger.”
“Longer,” Nick agreed. “Always was,” he conceded with a red-faced, tight-lipped grin. “But I bet we both know whose is really bigger.”
“Yeah, I’ll give ya the girth, dude.”
They stood there awkwardly, until, “Now what?” Stilts asked.
“Go home, I guess”
Stilts asked, “Is that what you want to do?”
Nick’s erection was still very evident. Stilts pointedly looked down at it then back up. He obviously adjusted his own in his baggy pants, eye to eye.
Oh, this boy has promise!
Then, when his hands moved away, it was obvious his adjustment was to make his own excitement about as visible as possible.
That long!?
I shouldn’t go into his head like that. Apologies. Suffice to say, Nick’s mouth was a round O and his big blue eyes gazed out huge before he clapped his mouth closed, then said, “Are you stoned right now?”
“Not anymore.” After a short pause, “Not much.” After a pause only slightly longer, he added, “Well, still, a little, yeah.”
“What’s it like?”
It was a safer topic than the ones beating at the wall of his consciousness.
Stilts slid his pack off and said, “Let’s go sit under the exhaust fan and discuss the matter.” He bounced his brows, red and faint, above his dark sunglasses.
“Okay.”
“Alright!”
Suffice to say, their discussion went much as you would expect. They stood near each other with the old-fashioned louvered exhaust fan running above them. Soon, Nick was holding a hit without coughing it all out, and no longer asking when it was going to work. The mild herb affected them predictably.
“Ma-a-a-n!” Nick drawled, trying not to giggle, or stare at Stilts, who had taken off his cap and sunglasses.
“I know what you mean, man.” Stilts laughed and hit the shortening joint.
It was their eyes that drew them together. Closer. Talking more frankly and openly with each passing minute. Soon comparing hands and fingers, and remarks about other features and ratios.
And eventually, sex. Neither could pretend experience with girls, but Stilts red-facedly admitted to ‘experience’ with ‘someone’.
“What are you saying?” Nick asked.
“A couple friends,” he said with one of his shrugs. “No big deal. Just a hand-job or two. Helping a brother out, is all.”
“Are you serious? Is that, like, some skater dude thing?”
Stilts laugh was genuine, so was his answer. “I don’t know. I mean, it was a couple skaters, yeah, but smokers, too, so, maybe that? Or both? I don’t know.” Another shrug and lopsided grin.
“Do I know them?”
“Like I’m gonna hint who.”
“Fair. Just… wow.” He laughed once.
“Not like I haven’t thought of doing other stuff. With a guy. You know?”
Big round O and blue orbs again.
They inspired Stilts to say, “I always felt like… you make me want to do that stuff. With you.”
There! He’d gotten it out! He was shocked at himself. Almost as shocked as Nick looked.
They both turned deeply red. They were already close, but now they leaned closer. Slowly. They both snickered at least once, but their lips met. They remained there.
Neither had practice at this. They were awkward, but they quickly learned enough.
When they stopped, they laughed and talked, holding hands, still kissing between revelations.
They were content there, for a while, until shy kisses gave way to needing ones. Until held hands turned to roaming, roving, reaching hands. Until they were embraced tightly, pressing urgent needs together.
Stilts used a break to look around. He grinned, then grabbed several packing blankets and threw them onto the floor. They got onto them, kneeling, facing each other. Almost the same height, now. Nearly. Breaths fast and shallow, shaky, faces red, lips wet and shining and red.
Nick asked, “What do we—“
Stilts cut him off with a kiss, and his hands roaming down Nick's flanks, making him shiver more. He noticed, and enjoyed it. Nick's returned efforts felt amazing to his slim form. Their hands roamed under shirts to find stiffened nipples and pounding hearts.
Stilts tugged Nick’s shirt up over his head and tossed it away. He bent over and sucked one of Nick’s pale, tan, hard nipples. Nick sucked in a breath and his grin grew wider than ever before. He sighed and moaned before he cut them off instinctively. Then he began pulling Stilts’ shirt off, over his head and arms.
More kissing as their hands explored nipples and pecs, sides and backs, and then a tight, almost desperate embrace.
They swapped nipple kisses, experimenting and cataloging under Nick’s strict scientific protocols. Then navels. A soft innie, a near outie. Fuzzy around them, but mostly invisible, whether whitish or reddish. They were both pale and smooth, despite having body hair. It was so thin and faint, it was nearly invisible. They could feel it between pecs and under arms, but only see it if they looked closely. They touched and kissed and explored each other rather admirably for two youths.
It was Stilts that first cupped the generous package in the front of Nick's black jeans. He found a very hard object that slinked beneath his fingers as Nick sighed and groaned softly before he pulled his hips back quickly. Stilts' hand followed, but were more still against the throbbing object so constrained.
They giggled and kissed as Nick's hand found Stilt's crotch. In those baggy, soft jeans, the long, hard erection pointed down one thigh was easy to find. It was quite long, and felt curved or bent. The head was nearly the same size as the shaft, which surprised Nick.
Stilts' hand found the two objects hanging just below Nicks' erection. They were hard to search out, being held in place in the briefs and tight jeans. But he felt them and feeling them was incredibly exciting.
Nick felt Stilts trying to explore his balls, so he looked for the ones hanging beside Stilts' erection. They were hard to get to, difficult, almost impossible behind two pairs of underwear and those soft jeans. He gave up and went back to the interesting, long, slightly curved dick hanging down beside them.
Stilts sighed and shivered all over. Nick smiled, enjoying giving Stilts pleasure. "Does that feel good?" he asked, a whisper in an ear.
"Oh, yea," Stilts sighed back, then returned his hands to Nicks' hard knob.
It was all he could make out in Nick's pants. The hard, thick knob. It's blunt tip and prominent edges. The shaft seemed buried beneath balls or underwear. Or both. But the head was amazingly hard. And he knew how good it must feel as he softly scratched at the edges through the rough black jeans and soft briefs below. He could feel it squirm.
Nick giggled and snickered and warned Stilts, "I might go off any second, man." He rubbed the full length of Stilt's long dick, from sharp tip to smooth head to curved shaft to root and base at his body, above his balls He guessed seven inches. He couldn't wait to find out, and began unfastening the zipper in Stilts' baggy jeans.
Stilts did the same to his. In moments they had each others pants and underwear pushed down. Both would have stood out proud from their small bushes, but they were grasped in hurried frenzy by shaking hands. They kissed as they grasped each others hard members with one hand and hanging globes with the other, chests and stomachs pressed together.
Stilts long, almost elegant fingers wrapped most of the way around Nick’s thick five inches. Perhaps six inches. Thick and veiny. It barely filled Stilts’ fist. But Stilts’ long-fingered grip held for the most part as he stroked pre-cum from the wide slit in the fat head. It was red and swollen after the day it had endured, and the last few minutes, and then those last nearly explosive seconds. Stilts’ other semi-spidery hand easily cupped Nicks tight, slightly pink sack that nearly hugged his body. The balls within were surprisingly small compared to what Stilts expected, but he was used to his own, as the skater guys he had experimented with had only pulled their members from their flys, never their boys. Nicks blond hairs were subtle even there. Above his fat shaft, his pubes resembled more a pale shadow than actual hair.
Even in Nick’s shorter fingers, Stilts’ balls were clearly larger, beside hanging much lower in their pink sack. Pink everywhere down there. Even his fiery bush, almost a shadow as well. Nick’s almost stubby-fingered hand fit nicely around Stilts’ narrow, pink shaft. Smooth and slightly arched upward. The now scarlet head, angular and smooth-edged, pulsed as Nick’s hand stroked the shaft, skin and all.
Of course, they could see none of this, pressed so tightly together and kissing, though they actually enjoyed feeling it, not just watching.
Kisses and fondling, moans between breaths, broken and ragged.
"Ah!" and sharp, hissed intakes of breath. Nick felt his body reacting, and before he could say anything more, it was performing like it had never before. Intense, deep, pounding pulses of orgasm ripped through his pelvis. From balls to tip of his dick, and every inch of tubing between, thrummed with the heavy flow of his cum.
It coated his head and Stilts' hand, making wet slopping sounds almost as loud as the roaring of his pulse in his ears. Eyes closed, lips engaged with Stilts' lips... he released the largest, hottest, thickest load of his life. So far.
Stilts felt the pulse through the fat, bumpy cock before he knew what it was. But then he felt the hot flow of slippery fluid, and another, and more… and then the fact that Nick had stopped stroking didn't matter, as his balls were tugging up tight and preparing to blast off.
He stroked the slippery skin, feeling the waning pulses there, while his own was building up. The smell hit him next, making his mouth water around Nick's. He moaned as the pleasure of getting Nick off brought him to completion even as Nick's hand remained still around his throbbing shaft.
Nick squirted his last real spurts into Stilts' hand as his body shivered and his breathing returned. All while still kissing the red lips he had looked at so many times lately. Coming down from the heights, he realized he had blown harder and more than ever, and Stilts hadn't minded at all. And was still stroking him, which was passing his tolerance level, rapidly. He also realized that he had stopped stroking that long, slightly curved, smoothly headed dick, so he got back to that, with gusto.
But he squeaked, "It tickles too much Stop," around the kisses.
As he stroked that banana, it bobbed and jumped in his hand, and then gushes and groans as he fumbled his grip on the wildly swinging thing. Further gushes followed, with broken gasps and short cries as Stilts unleashed his massive load. Perhaps not for some grown men, but for him, for them, quite an impressive mess filled Nick's willing hand, making those incredible squishing noises.
"Stop," Nick complained, pulling his hips and his erection back, away from the overly intense sensations.
Stilts did not, even squished the bulky head in his fingers, sending Nick into laughter and shakes.
“Stop!”
“Why?”
Their hands did not stop. The wet noises changed, their groans and sighs and moans changed, and they laughed a lot more often as they continued while they kissed.
Moans and soft groans, wet stroking sounds, sharp giggles at times.
But I shall stop there. Perhaps, should you mortals so request, I may continue describing as they continue… well, exploring.
Ta for now, mon frere.
*snap*