Albertane: After Dark
11 - Crashing Aaron's Party - Shaun
Written for the t_s_s "Get Zac Laid" challenge.
First published on the Nifty Archive (December 10, 2004)
Zac Hanson wanted to fuck.
Who he fucked was of no consequence to him—he just wanted to get laid.
The novelty of the party he was attending, one of those annoying industry shindigs, had long since worn off, and now Zac was looking for some action. He'd stealthily retreated himself into a dark corner which allowed him to avoid being sociable—"Hey, aren't you that Hanson kid?"—and scan the room nonchalantly without appearing too obvious. The predator always did lurk in the shadows, didn't they? Waiting for their moment to pounce? That's what he was tonight: a predator.
I'm so fucking horny, he thought. Kate picked a hell of a time to go away.
She, along with Natalie and Ezra, had flown out this morning to visit a sick friend, which he knew was far more important than his overactive libido, but the selfish part of him wanted her back. They'd spent most of the previous night going at it hard and heavy, apparently making so much noise that Ike had finally burst into the room some time around 3:30 to tell them to "knock it off or else!" Zac had hoped their all-night love fest might be able to hold him until Kate returned home in a few days.
No such luck.
Zac considered himself to be a straight but he liked keeping his options open. Take Taylor for instance. Normally Taylor served as his backup fuck—though admittedly it was unfair to consider tapping his ass anything close to a second prize—since not even Zac was able to resist that. His older brother, despite the fact that he was married and had a kid, was all about the cock, and Zac thanked God for it. Taylor was hot, and fucking him had become one of Zac's guilty little pleasures.
Speak of the devil, he thought. His eyes focused on Taylor, dressed in painted on, black leather pants and a white wife beater. He was more than a little bit drunk and shamelessly flirting with Ben Jelen, one of the few remaining boys in the music business he hadn't slept with. Zac laughed. That boy could get anyone into bed. He had never forgotten something a fan had written about Taylor one time. How did it go again? "Taylor has the power to make straight boys cry."
He didn't see Isaac, but figured the eldest Hanson wasn't too far away, most likely hitting on Jonny Lang—who Zac had seen and said hello to not twenty minutes ago—in yet another unsuccessful attempt to get him in the sack. Ike had been trying unsuccessfully to claim that prize for God only knew how long. Zac had to admire the boy's tenacity.
He took a swig of his Corona and continued surveying the room for a victim. Who would it be tonight? The choices were endless: just about everyone was there. You could hardly move a foot in any direction without encountering some big name. So many beautiful people in one place—it was enough to make his head spin . . . both of them. Decked out in a pair of torn, baggy blue jeans and a tight, black t-shirt, Zac looked fine. And it was only a matter of time before he found someone who wanted a piece of him.
His eyes fell on Taylor again. His brother was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. Such a pretty face . . . that long, lean body . . . that perfect ass. He felt his cock stiffen as he thought about the many times they'd been together, their sweaty bodies moving in perfect rhythm with one another . . . those slow and steady thrusts in and out. You took your time with Taylor, because you never wanted it to end.
Unfortunately for Zac, it appeared Ben was falling under Taylor's spell. At least one of them wasn't going home alone tonight. There went his backup plan.
"Damn," he whispered, his hand sliding down to adjust himself.
"Does he scream when you fuck him?"
Zac jerked his hand away from his crotch as he turned to find whom the voice belonged to.
The boy was sixteen . . . maybe seventeen, with shaggy blond hair that partially obscured his radiant bronze eyes. His face, which seemed vaguely familiar, had a youthful, impish quality with smooth skin that was aglow even in the subdued light of Zac's dark corner; his cocksucker's mouth was molded into a devilish grin that left no question to the boy's intentions. A tight white t-shirt clung for life—and why would it want to let go?—to his slender, wiry torso, giving a not-so-subtle hint to the lovely toned form that rested beneath. The little slut's legs were wrapped in black leather, which one only wore if they were up to no good. This boy was made for sex, there was no doubt about it, and something told Zac he'd seen for more than his fair share.
"Umm . . . excuse me?" was all Zac managed to say in response. It was sort of hard to concentrate when faced with such beauty, especially when all the blood in your body was traveling at breakneck speed into your cock.
"Your brother—does he scream when you fuck him?"
Zac laughed nervously. "What are you—?"
"Don't play innocent with me," the boy said, still sporting that grin. "It's not the first time I've seen that look. My brother eyes me like that before he ties me down to his bed and fucks the shit out of me."
Zac felt his knees weaken. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep from dropping to the floor. His mind shifted into overdrive conjuring up images of him and the boy naked and covered with sweat, limbs intertwined; Zac pounding the boy's small, round ass for all he was worth. This was not a slow and steady boy, like Taylor, at all . . . no, sir. You gave it to this one fast and hard because, if you didn't, chances were he wouldn't hang around long. Nope, before you could say premature ejaculation he'd have skipped your number entirely and moved onto the next contestant, leaving you without so much as a lifetime's supply of Turtle Wax.
"He screams like a little girl," Zac managed to answer. There was no way he was going to let on how worked up he was, though it wasn't exactly hard—for a lack of a better term—to figure that out by the pronounced bulge in his jeans.
"I thought so." The boy shifted his weight, jutting one hip out while planting his hand firmly to it with a flourish. His other hand grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and tugged upwards, revealing the lower part of his smooth, white tummy. He laughed. "You don't even know who I am, do you?"
Zac watched as the boy's eyes scanned him up and down, his head giving a slight nod of approval. He apparently liked what he saw. "Does it really matter?" Zac responded, pretending like it didn't.
The boy shook his head, his grin growing wider. "I suppose it doesn't at that. But I do seem to have the advantage over you. I mean—I know who you are. I figure it's only fair for you to know who I am. At least then you'll have a name to scream out." He offered Zac his hand. "I'm Aaron."
No fuckin' way! It can't be.
"Not Aaron Carter?" Zac replied, returning the handshake. It lasted longer than it should have—touching the baby smooth skin sent a jolt of electricity directly to his already-throbbing dick. He played it off. "Surely you're not that annoying little shit?"
"Well, aren't you the charmer?"
"I just meant that—"
"I know what you meant."
Swiping the half-full Corona from Zac's hand, Aaron placed it to his lips and downed the remaining liquid. "Thanks," he said.
"Don't mention it."
Zac had to admit there was something extremely hot about this pretty, little boy sporting an ego almost as big as his own. You had to hand it to the kid: he knew exactly what he wanted and had the balls to go after it. Without a doubt, he had found his fuck-buddy for the evening, but he'd be damned if he was going let the boy get the best of him. Oh, no . . . this was going to be on his terms, and his terms alone.
"How old are you—twelve?"
"Do I look twelve to you?”
Zac didn’t respond.
“Look, I’m old enough, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
There was frustration in Aaron's voice, and that self-satisfied smirk had all but disappeared from his face. Zac chuckled to himself—his plan seemed to be working. “I’m not worried at all,” he said, matter-of-factly. He turned and walked towards the bar, figuring he could polish off at least one more beer before ending the charade and taking the boy home. Oh, how fun it was going to be to watch him squirm.
He approached the bar and nodded at the guy minding the store. "Hey, what's up? I'll have another Corona."
The bartender retrieved the bottle and popped the cap. He handed it to Zac just as Aaron was stepping up to the bar.
"Thanks, man," he said, motioning to Aaron, "and how about a Shirley Temple for the Boy Wonder over here?"
"Fuck you," Aaron said.
"You suck your brother's dick with that mouth?"
Aaron opened his mouth to speak but Zac stopped him.
"Look, kid," Zac began, "this kamikaze boy whore shit may work on the Backstreet Boys tour bus, and I have to admit it was kinda cute at first, but you're starting to get on my nerves. If I wanted to fuck you, I would—I'd bend you over and do the deed right here. Get lost, alright?"
There it was—the final blow. If that didn't bring Aaron down a few notches, then nothing would. The look on his face was near heartbreaking. If it all hadn't been a part of Zac's plan, he might even feel sorry for the kid.
"Fine," Aaron said with as much dignity as he could scrape up off the floor. His head hanging in defeat, he turned to walk away. Looking back one last time, as if to offer Zac one final chance, he added, "Later."
The boy wasn't used to rejection, and from the view Zac had of his ass right now, he could understand why. But there was more to him than just his cute, round backside: he was gorgeous. No, he wasn't anything close to perfect, like Taylor, but he was beautiful nonetheless, and Zac had certainly wanted him from that very first moment. He couldn't, however, let Aaron have the upper hand.
Sure, Aaron's little ego trip might have been a turn-on, but Zac knew it was only an act. And while those terms may have been acceptable from the standpoint of some of the other boys Aaron had slept with, they weren't with Zac. It was Zac that said who, what, where, or when, not some cutesy bottom boy throwing himself at anything with a penis. Power was everything—bad shit happened when you lost control.
Zac watched as Aaron made his exit. Deciding that the game was over, he downed the rest of his Corona and set off to claim his prize. He figured he had a few minutes before the elevator arrived, and he, of course, didn't want to appear too anxious, so he took his time as he made his way to the door. As he entered the hallway, he saw Aaron standing at the elevator, still looking dejected. Zac could hear him cursing under his breath.
"Come on, dammit," Aaron muttered. He was repeatedly punching the elevator button as if it had wronged him in a former life. "Who the fuck needs him?"
"What did I tell you about that language," Zac responded, putting his hand on Aaron's shoulder.
The boy jumped. "Shit!"
"See," Zac said, "there you go again. We're going to have to wash that mouth out with something."
The elevator door opened. Zac led Aaron inside and pressed the button for the lobby.
"Come on, let's go," Zac said.
"We're going back to my apartment."
"But I thought you said—"
Zac's hand clamped over Aaron's mouth. He reached around and grabbed the boy's ass, pushing him back towards the rear of the elevator.
"You needed to be put in your place."
The door shut behind them; the car began its twelve-floor descent to the lobby.
Zac's hand fell away from Aaron's face. Their lips met and parted in an instant, allowing their tongues to intertwine and dance together. He felt Aaron frantically grab at his t-shirt, pulling it from his jeans; his small hands moving beneath the fabric and exploring Zac's firm torso. Zac broke the kiss and reached around to grab Aaron's legs, forcing them apart as he lifted him a few inches into the air and slammed him against the back wall of the elevator. He felt Aaron's lower limbs clamp tightly around his waist, and countered the movement by aggressively thrusting upwards into the boy's crotch, forcing their hard cocks to press against one another.
"Oh, god," Aaron moaned.
"Just 'Zac' will do."
Aaron seemed to pause for a moment, as if trying to decide how he should take the comment, and then smiled.
The elevator lurched to a stop and the bell sounded—someone was about to get on.
Zac smirked. "Down, boy," he said.
Aaron frantically unlatched his legs from Zac's waist and hopped down just in time for the doors to open. Other than the fact that they both had raging hard-ons, Zac figured they looked as normal as any two people would taking a ride in an elevator. A young couple in their early twenties, dressed in evening attire, stepped into the car.
"Going down?" he heard Aaron ask them.
"Not yet," Zac said with a giggle, squeezing Aaron's ass.
"Cut it out!"
The couple gave them both a strange look but said nothing. Aaron was twelve shades of red; Zac just looked at them and smiled. "Evening," he said, nodding and stifling a laugh.
The door closed and the two unwanted guests turned to face the door. The elevator resumed its descent.
Zac reached over and grabbed Aaron's dick. "You got a permit for this thing?"
Aaron slapped his hand away. "Stop!"
Zac burst out laughing.
The elevator reached the lobby a few moments later; the bell sounded and the doors opened once again. As the four of them stepped out into the lobby, the couple gave the boys one last suspicious glance.
"You'll have to excuse my friend," Zac said. "He gets a little excited in elevators."
"Oh, Jesus," Aaron said, putting his hand over his face.
"My friends call me 'Zac'."
The couple quickened their pace.
"You folks have a nice evening, now!" Zac called after them.
They walked through the revolving door and onto the sidewalk; the chilly night air was enough to cool them down from their mini-make out session. Zac hugged his arms close as the two of them approached the edge of the sidewalk. Zac waved his hand into the air at an approaching cab.
"Damn, that was embarrassing," Aaron said. "What if they recognized us?"
The cab zoomed by them.
"Yeah, right . . . like anyone knows who you are anymore. Besides, you didn't seem to care who saw you when you were throwing yourself at me upstairs."
"I wasn't 'throwing myself' at you."
"Uh – huh," Zac replied as three more cabs zoomed right passed them. "Shit!"
Aaron shrugged. "I wasn't—"
"Damn, kid, you did everything but quote me a price."
A taxi pulled up to the curb and stopped. Zac opened the door and motioned for Aaron to get in.
"Are you calling me a whore?" Aaron inquired as he stepped into the vehicle.
"Hey, if the leather pants fit . . . .”
Aaron's ass was still hanging out of the cab; Zac grabbed it. The boy's head shot up in surprise and whacked against the roof of the car.
"Fuck!" Aaron called, falling onto the floorboard.
"You're just a little potty mouth, aren't you?" Zac stepped in behind Aaron and closed the door. He rattled off the address to the cabbie and turned to face Aaron, who had just managed to pull himself up from between the front and back seats. "It looks like I'm going to have to teach you some manners."
Zac leaned in closer and their lips met again. His hand moved slowly down Aaron's chest and stomach, stopping at his waist; his nimble fingers skillfully unbuttoned and unzipped the boy's pants in one quick motion, releasing Aaron's cock, which eagerly sprang outwards. He chuckled as Aaron nearly jumped out of his skin when he grabbed hold and began jerking it.
Breaking their kiss, Zac lowered his head and assessed the situation: Aaron's dick was long and slender, almost as big as Taylor's, and crowned by a light fuzz of well-trimmed pubic hair. It was almost as beautiful as the boy himself, and seemed to be twitching in anticipation—its head glistening with pre-cum—as Zac hovered just a few excruciatingly close inches away.
The moan that escaped Aaron's lips seemed to be begging him to continue.
Zac sucked the boy's cock into his mouth, burying his face into the soft pubic hair and inhaling deeply. Closing his lips around the shaft, Zac slowly began moving his head up and down, allowing his tongue to dance gracefully across the sensitive skin as his hand gently kneaded Aaron's balls.
He increased his speed as Aaron's hips began thrusting upwards. Zac could feel the jolts of sexual electricity emanating from Aaron's body as everything around them—the cab, the cabbie, the glowing scenery whizzing by outside the car—ceased to exist, their minds canvassed by an erotic mural of lust and ecstasy.
"Oh, Jesus," Aaron screamed.
His cock exploded in an earth-shattering orgasm, pumping several loads of cum into Zac's hungry mouth, which the older boy eagerly consumed.
Zac raised himself up from Aaron's crotch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Mmm, nice," he said. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face and put your thing back in your pants. We're almost there."
As if on cue, the taxi pulled up to the curb outside Zac's apartment building. Aaron frantically tried to put himself back together as Zac tossed the driver a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks," he said, opening the door. "Keep the change."
The cold air hit them hard as they stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. As the taxi sped away, Zac got a good look at Aaron's face. He was still sporting that silly smile, and held a vacant expression in his eyes. It was a state some people referred to as a "sex coma", and Aaron had a pretty bad case.
Zac laughed. He leaned in close, opened his mouth, and pressed his tongue to Aaron's cheek, licking upwards in one agonizingly long stroke. Aaron immediately snapped back into reality.
"What?" he said.
Zac stuck his hand inside the front of Aaron's pants and began walking towards the door, literally dragging along with him. "I know it was good, kid, but damn! I had to snap you out of it. I'm not quite done with you . . . yet."
He typed the security code into the keypad and pulled open the door.
"Come on, let's go," he said, leading Aaron inside. "That's a good boy."
The door closed behind them with a thud. Zac lead Aaron down the hallway to the elevator.
"You gonna be alright?" he asked, pushing Aaron inside and inserting his key into the control panel.
"Oh, yeah . . . I'm good."
Zac pulled him close and planted a kiss on his soft lips.
"You may want to call your Mommy when we get upstairs," he joked, "to tell her you're going to be late."
Aaron giggled. "You're such an asshole."
He felt Aaron's hand slowly snake its way down his body, stopping at his waist, fumbling to try and unbutton his pants. Zac slapped it away. His dick was aching for some attention, yes, but this wasn't the place for it.
"Nope, not yet," he scolded.
The elevator came to a halt and Zac opened the door; the two boys stepped out into the apartment. It was quiet, thank God. Zac grabbed Aaron by the hand.
"Come on," he said.
They walked across the living area and into Zac's bedroom. It was cozy and warm, with a perfect Zac-sized bed, decorated with a beautiful down comforter, resting against the center of the far wall, with bookshelves on either side of it. This is where Zac slept . . . and fucked. One could almost see the notches on the bedpost from the entryway.
Zac closed the door behind them, flipped the lock, and leaned back against the wall. He pulled Aaron close to him and wrapped his arms around the boy's skinny frame. Their lips connected as Zac's hands moved down and massaged Aaron's cock through the leather. Aaron wasted no time at all unbuttoning Zac's baggy jeans, which fell to the floor with no effort at all, leaving Zac wearing nothing but his black silk boxers and t-shirt.
Zac placed his hands on Aaron's shoulders and firmly pushed the boy downwards. "On your knees, bitch," he said.
The boy complied, falling quickly and using his nimble fingers to remove the boxer shorts, finally releasing Zac's thick member from its fabric prison. Zac watched as Aaron studied it for moment—he seemed to be admiring its size—and wrapped a hand around the base. He felt himself slide slowly into Aaron’s waiting mouth, and trembled as the boy’s tongue skillfully began to do its work.
"Oh, yeah," Zac moaned.
Zac watched as Aaron’s lips closed around his shaft and slowly moved his head forward to take more of it into his mouth. He could feel the boy’s tongue dancing madly over every inch. He was obviously quite an expert at giving head and obviously enjoyed it. Zac briefly thought that Nick Carter was one lucky motherfucker to have this kind of service at his beck and call. Zac's dick wasn’t exactly small, and the way the boy managed it was something to be admired.
Zac, lost in the moment, slowly began thrusting his hips, fucking Aaron's face gently. The boy was working his cock like a pro, and it occurred to Zac that Taylor might have some pretty good competition—Aaron was proving to be quite handy to have around. Zac increased the speed of his thrusts, but the boy never flinched, never once complained. He was good.
"Fuck, yeah," he said.
Quickly regaining his composure, trying to stick to the plan, he grabbed a handful of Aaron's hair and pulled the boy away.
"Oww!" Aaron yelped. "What the hell?"
Zac laughed. "Calm down, kid. I don't want to come in your mouth."
Aaron stood up and smiled.
"Take off your clothes and pull down the bed," Zac directed. He pulled off his shirt and walked naked into the bathroom. He grabbed a hand towel and obtained a half-empty tube of KY from one of the counter drawers. When he returned to the bedroom, Aaron had already removed the down comforter and was standing naked next to the bed.
"Here," Zac said, tossing the tube and the towel to Aaron. "I take it you know what to do with this?"
"Yep," Aaron said, catching it. He opened the tube, squeezed out some of the jelly onto his hand, and expertly spread it over Zac's dick. After he was finished, he wiped his hand with the towel and handed it to Zac.
"Lie down," Zac ordered, tossing the towel and the KY to the floor.
Aaron complied. Zac climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind him. He grabbed hold of one of the boy's legs and lifted it into the air, using his other hand to position his slick shaft against Aaron's waiting hole. A few seconds later, he slowly began to push himself inside, encountering surprisingly little resistance; the boy was obviously used to being in this position. Aaron let out a loud yawp as Zac's dick slid inside him.
"Oh, Jesus," Aaron moaned.
"I told you to call me—"
"Yeah, I know . . . call you 'Zac'. We've been through this."
"Just relax, kid," he said, massaging Aaron’s hips. After a few moments, he felt the boy begin to relax—his cock had even sprung to life again. Zac wrapped his hand around it and began slowly jacking it up and down.
“Oh, yeah,” Aaron groaned.
Zac gently pushed himself the rest of the way in. The boy’s face grimaced in pain and Zac noted that his fingers were digging into the mattress below him. Zac knew his dick was bigger than average, and while he figured the boy had most likely been around the block a few times, this was still incredibly painful for him. To Zac, however, it was wonderful. Aaron was gorgeous, and Zac relished being inside him—it was absolutely amazing.
After a few minutes, Zac could feel the boy’s muscles relax around him and the expression on his face had lost some of its intensity. As if to say, “It’s okay . . . go ahead,” the boy’s eyes connected with Zac’s and a small smile spread across his face.
Zac took the cue. He slowly pulled out until only the head of his dick remained inside Aaron, and then slowly pushed back in. He felt Aaron’s legs lock around his waist, forcing him to push deeper inside. Zac pressed forward with his lower body, lifting Aaron's backside off the mattress, and began thrusting himself in and out.
White-hot energy, a byproduct of their merging, superheated the air around them, and their bodies were instantly covered with a thin layer of perspiration. They moved together as one, dancing to the carnal melody of their most primal desires. Instinct had long since taken over, and the two boys were completely consumed by their lust for one another—a titan fucking a titan.
Zac leaned over, almost bending the younger boy in half, and pressed his lips to Aaron’s; their mouths opened, tongues intertwining in a passionate kiss. Zac winced with pain as he felt Aaron’s fingernails dig in and scrape painfully down the flesh of his back.
“Fuck!” he muttered, with his mouth still on Aaron’s. That, Zac thought to himself, was going to leave him with a little souvenir, and he briefly wondered how in the hell he was going to explain it to Kate.
He pushed himself deeper into the boy below him—who moaned loudly in response, his face contorting into a beautiful expression of extreme ecstasy—and increased the speed of his hand, which now furiously masturbated Aaron’s cock. Zac felt the boy’s hips moving in rhythm with his, their bodies working together. It was almost more than he could take.
“Oh, god,” he heard Aaron groan.
With every thrust, Zac could feel himself moving closer and closer to orgasm, a moment he had no desire to try and prolong. Having Aaron wrapped around him was pure heaven. He was no Taylor, of course, but still one hell of a good lay. And Zac knew that blowing his load inside this particular boy was going to be especially satisfying.
He watched his fallen angel’s head tilt back—the boy’s body tensed, and he let out a loud shriek. In the next second, Aaron's cock exploded, shooting several streams of creamy come all over his stomach and Zac's hand, which continued jerking it furiously—milking it for every last drop.
Zac felt Aaron's muscles tighten around his invading member, and the sensation was all that was needed to send him over the age. Burying himself deep within Aaron, Zac howled as his dick unleashed its fiery load into the boy's waiting ass. His mind reeled as he continued thrusting, allowing the orgasm to play itself out.
It was over.
They both sat there for a moment, neither one able to move. It was Aaron that spoke first.
"That was . . . that was fucking incredible."
"Of course, it was," Zac managed to respond.
Aaron giggled. "You are an ass."
"Yes . . . yes, I am."
He collapsed on top of Aaron.
"Jesus," he said, panting.
"You can call me 'Aaron'."
"Very funny, kid," Zac responded.