By Glenn Williams
Art by Frank Weber (Bastille)
“Señor, you are wanted in the cabaña.”
I open my eyes, but the sun has been beating on my eyelids for hours now and I can’t see worth a damn. Someone’s standing above me, but he’s just a grey shadowed blur.
“What?” I growl. “What are you talking about?”
My skin feels hot and slick like a well-broiled chicken, and the crystal-white sand beneath my towel radiates a warmth that only a Costa Rican beach can. I love nude sunbathing. My hairy chest and belly bake to a nice copper tone. My cock and balls lay plump against my naked thighs, my cockhead just squinting out from my thick chewy foreskin. Earlier, I had been jacking off in the sunshine and a drool of dried precum glistens on my balls and shaft.
“Señor,” the voice above me repeats.
Oh shit, I was touching myself again. I lean up onto one elbow and look toward the voice and, as my eyes adjust... holy fuck! A gorgeous Latino man stands above me.
He’s about my age, but his hair is black as a raven’s and tied back in a thick ponytail. He wears light white linen pants, blowzy, but well-pressed. He wears no shirt. He has exquisite muscles, stuffed tight and rippling under his skin, veiny. A body of wavy, curved flesh. His skin is golden-brown perfection, smooth as silk, with tiny round brown nipples. His dark black mustache and full soft lips accentuate eyes deep and dark as ocean caverns. The fingers of one hand mindlessly rub his dark clipped treasure trail.
“You are wanted in the cabaña, señor,” he says in a smooth husky baritone.
I look past him to where he’s indicating. There, in a deep green tropical grove, is a small hut set back beyond the sandline, almost unnoticeable. A sign over the door reads, in fat blue letters, El Gallo Nido.
“Are you sure it’s me they’re looking for?” I ask. “I’m here alone.”
The man’s gaze moves boldly over my body. Down my hairy chest to my big bear belly. He smiles with teeth white as Costa Rican sand. His gaze lingers on my cock and balls. He licks his lower lip with his tongue. “Oh, si señor,” he sighs. His hand moves slowly down to the bulge in front of his linen pants and he presses there with the flat of his palm, before gripping the thick package of flesh under there and squeezing it at me.
My cock has taken notice and rolls over off my thigh, filling with blood.
“Si, señor,” he says, clearing his throat. “It is you that I... It is you that they want. You have been...” He licks his lips again. “Cho-o-o-o-sen,” he says, stretching out the word deliciously.
Chosen, huh? Well, my cock’s certainly interested. “All right,” I say.
I get to my feet slowly, feeling the hot sand beneath me. The man takes my elbow to help me up. Before I am fully balanced, he pulls himself close into me. His lips barely tickle the skin on my shoulder, as if to kiss me there, but teasing me only. Instead he slowly breathes in my scent through his nostrils. The heat from his solid brown chest and abs radiate to my big furry belly. His wide-set eyes and wide forehead are almost Mayan-looking. So fuckin’ beautiful.
|My cock is certainly interested|
“Varonil,” he whispers. His crotch presses into my thigh and I can feel the hard throb of his fat cock through his linen pants. My cock starts to answer throb for throb.
“Chosen, huh?” I smile. “Okay. Take me to this cabana.” I lean down to pick up my swim trunks.
“No, no, señor,” the man says, reaching for my elbow. “You do not wish to be...” His gaze goes to the ocean, looking for the right word, “Overdressed.” His smile is like starlight.
I laugh. What the hell? Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve walked into a strange building buck-naked.
“Alejandro will bring your things to your room,” he says. He claps his hands and a young man, who looks fifteen but is probably more like eighteen or nineteen, steps from between the trees and walks toward us with small steps. He doesn’t look at me, but stares intently at my beach towel, swimtrunks, suntan lotion and other stuff, like he’s been trained to do so. Without a word he reaches down and begins to gather my things.
“Do not worry about your belongings, señor,” the man says as he hurries me toward the door of El Gallo Nido, “Alejandro is very trustworthy. Your belongings will be safely delivered to your hotel room.” I turn back to look as we walk. Alejandro holds the crotch of my swim trunks up against his face, his eyes closed.
I’ve got to remember to tip him.
When we arrive at the cabana door, the man stops me. He turns facing me directly, holding my biceps in his powerful grip. His eyes stare straight into mine. So dark and beautiful. His eyelashes are huge. My cock is completely plumped up now. I can feel the tip touching his white linen pants.
“Promise me something, señor,” he says. “Por favor, if I have pleased you in any way?” He licks his lower lip again. “Promise me, you do not forget me when we go inside?”
What the fuck am I getting myself into?
I look back again and see Alejandro hurrying dutifully toward the resort with my things in his arms, my swim trunks flopping from his teeth. No turning back now.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Hector,” he says.
I lean in and kiss him. His mouth opens and I feel his tongue moving against mine. He tastes of cinnamon and chocolate. He groans in my mouth, his arms encircle my back and crush me to his compact form. He is brushing the tip of my cock against his crotch, as if by accident, but it’s quite on purpose. My cock drools a bit on them.
I pull back and smile, “Damn, Hector. Such a beautiful man as you? I promise I will not forget you in there.”
“Whoooo!!!” comes a chorus of loud, manly voices as if from a group of guys. When I look beyond Hector, I see the door is open and there are men inside who are laughing and whooping. And they are watching.
“Hector ha sido malo,” a voice says musically and there’s a roar of laughter.
“I’ve been caught,” Hector says to me, blushing in the chest and face, smiling miserably. It’s a beautiful thing to see.
“I don’t care,” I say. I flip the guys in the cabana off with one hand and with the other guide Hector’s face into another deep tonguey kiss. A huge ruckus of laughter rises from the cabana.
Looks like this is turning into a good day.
I walk into the cabana, which is dark, and once again my eyes have to adjust to a change in light. When I’m inside I hear the door close and all is dark and quiet.
There are pillows everywhere I step. On one side, there’s a long bar with a mirror and rows of alcohol. In another corner of the hut, tables and chairs have been stacked up, clearing the floor. There are a couple soft sofas arrayed against a reedy wall that looks like it’s made to roll up and expose the outside. Light seeps through the slats of the wall.
The center of the room has a slightly raised center which is covered by what looks to me like a wrestling mat. Bright, colorful pillows all over it.
And everywhere, lined against the wall, laying on the pillows, sitting around the cabana are naked men. Tall ones and short ones and fat ones and skinny ones and ones with so many muscles you’d think his skin would burst. Older men and younger men and none of them, not one of them, with a stitch of clothing on. Must be twenty, thirty guys. They are everywhere, everywhere except the center platform.
My cock is at full drooly salute. Hector takes me by the hand and leads me to the raised platform.
“Gran oso,” someone grunts. Men laugh, low and horny.
“Papá grande,” another voice says. More laughter.
“Es mío,” yet another voice says. Instantly a chorus of voices cry out, “¡No! ¡No! ¡Es mío! ¡Es mío!”
I’m starting to blush here. Hector smiles up at me, still holding my hand.
On one of the sofas, a man with a very dark, hairy chest sinks down into the cushions, reaches for the hands of a young smooth-skinned young man with a perfectly round ass and pulls him onto his ramrod cock. The young man’s head goes back as he gasps, his ass swallowing the hairy man’s cock whole.
Against the bar, two white-haired, brown-skinned older men kiss each other hungrily while their hands move across each other’s backs. Their cocks are hard and loll about with the movements of their entwining bodies.
Over by the window, a huge beanbag contains an extra-large, brown-skinned chub with tits that look like whipped chocolate mousse and his dark cock and huge ballsack peeking beneath his round smooth belly. He pulls on his foreskin, twisting it over the end of his cockhead like a candy wrapper while a beautiful, dark-haired man kneels down behind the big guy and begins kiss-nibbling the chub’s shoulders.
There’s so much to see; it’s hard to focus on any one thing. Hands are moving in their own rhythms along the lengths of cocks, their own and others’. Some eyes are on a partner; some are scanning the room; many are still on me.
Against one wall, a man older than myself with a round moon-like face and large hairy pecs pumps his uncut cock lazily in and out of another man’s mouth. Yet another guy steps up behind him, wrapping his arms around him from behind, pinching the man’s nipples, slipping his own cock up the length of the guy’s asscrack in a hot, sweaty act of frotage.
A few men are groaning in the dark corners of the room. I’m feeling a little vulnerable on the center platform with Hector. I turn and look at him.
Hector smiles at me, drops my hand and steps off the platform. In a loud voice that fills the room, he cries, “El gallo está aquí!” The men for the most part quit what they’re doing long enough to crow like roosters. “¡Qui-qui-ri-quí!” they crow over and over.
My cock is hard and straight, every vein throbbing. A bead of precum drools off my cockhead on a long sticky string. I’ve never seen such an incredible, horntastic thing as this crowd of hungry men. Sweat trickles down my neck into my chest hair. At this point, I don’t give a fuck which guy comes up here with me. I just want him to get up here fast.
|My cock is hard and straight|
Hector reaches into a bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. In a loud voice he cries out, “El Primer Gallo es Ramon Duarte!”
There is cheering and a few guffaws as a young man steps forward out of the crowd. Must be Ramon. He’s a little shorter than me, maybe forty, his hair is thick, black and very curly. He has a killer smile, kind of bashful, beautiful eyes. I look slowly at his chest, at the clump of curls between his pecs that runs in a thin line down to a spectacular bush and a nice hard cock.
He is blushing and looking from side to side with a shy grin as he steps up onto the platform.
“Ramon?” I ask him. He looks up at me.
“Si, señor,” he says, his fingertips touching his chest, “I... is Ramon.” I can see behind the embarrassment and the chuckling and the shy, there is a vast hunger in those eyes. He steals little glimpses down at my cock.
I put my hand on top of his curly head and push him to his knees. “¡Qui-qui-ri-quí!” I shout.
The crowd roars with approval, clapping their hands. Ramon crumbles to his knees in front of me, a huge grin covering his face. His eyes lock on mine as his tongue comes out and flicks the tip of my cock. The touch of his tongue is like lightning bolts and I leave a little pool of precum on his tongue. He then begins bathing the length of my cock with licks of his tongue, my balls and my bush even. Licking me up with short little strokes like a thirsty dog.
I close my eyes, my hand still resting on top of his head. “Chuparme!” I say.
“Chupar! Chupar! Chupar! Chupar!” a chant rises from the room.
He continues to flick his tongue along the length of my cock, teasing me until I can bear no more. I grab a handful of Ramon’s hair and tilt his face back. His dark eyes are shining with lust. He looks at me like a wild animal.
“Suck me, goddamn it!” I growl.
And he dives down on my cock, swallowing every last inch of it in one huge lunge. His throat is so wet and hot and the room has exploded with cheers and chants of “Chupar!” and “Ramon!” I can barely breathe it feels so good and a huge growl rises from deep inside my chest and I find myself hollering with the sheer fuck-joy of it, my arms raised up, flexing my biceps.
I have become the Alpha Cock.
My hand is on the top of his head as my hips pump balls-deep down Ramon’s hot sweet throat. He takes it like a man, his wet tongue sliding down the length of my shaft, his cheeks pushing and sucking the blood to the tip of my cock. It feels so good I shove deep and he gags, pulls off, spit and precum dripping from his mouth. He smiles. Ramon’s become a wild man. He dives back down on my cock.
“Fuck yeah, suck me, amigo,” I murmur. “Chuparme!”
Ramon works the full length of my dick like he’s mad for it. Like he’s skull-fucking his own face onto my hard, throbbing rod. My ass is flexing, but I don’t need to thrust much. His hands are planted firmly on my hips and he’s set up a relentless rhythm.
I can feel my balls churning in my ballsack, wanting to let go.
“Muy bueno,” I growl. I grab fistfuls of Ramon’s hair and take over the rhythm of his sucking in the way that makes my cock feel like it wants to go. The men are chanting low and urgently, waiting for the cum to cum. Ramon has become nothing but a hot, wet mouth on which I impale my cock. He gags again when I thrust hard. It brings tears to his eyes, but I don’t care.
Guys all around me are jacking off, watching the Alpha Cock get sucked by First Rooster Ramon. Every now and then some guy somewhere shouts and jizz flies out the end of his cock in wild silky streams, sometimes caught by an eager mouth. The hairy guy on the couch blows a wad of cum while the boy on him cries out in a high voice, “Papá!”
Ramon begins to groan, working my cock to a frenzy. My balls are banging against his chin.
I’m going to cum. I feel that pressure behind my balls and the spasms rising. And bam! ropes of jizm are flying out my cock, flooding Ramon’s mouth.
“Awww!” I holler out as my cock spurts and spurts down Ramon’s throat. The crowd cheers. Ramon swallows and gags and cum drips out the side of his mouth.
My body shakes with the full good feel of the orgasm. My cock stops spurting cum, but it stays pretty hard... ready for more. Ramon cleans my cock and balls with his clever tongue. He is very attentive. Makes me chuckle.
I kneel down on one knee in front of him. His grin is like a child caught stealing candy. I pull his face to me and kiss him deep, tasting the salty tang of my own cum on his tongue. As we’re kissing deep, he falls back, laying down on the platform, pulling me with him until I am on my hands and knees over his prone body.
I am kissing him, tasting my cum on his tongue. I am caressing him, touching the fur between his pecs. I am a powerful, horny bear daddy.
“El gallo segundo es Vincente!” cries Hector. I turn and see he has another name pulled from the jar. He’s waving the slip in the air and the guys are cheering.
Wait... What? What second rooster?
Mutantbearman (Glenn Scofield Williams) writes poetry, prose, plays, periodica, and porn in Portland, Oregon, USA. He has published over 50 articles in gay and straight newspapers, poetry in magazines and online, and is working on his first full-length non-fiction. His erotica includes steamy stories about bears, chubs, muscle guys, doms and subs, bisexuals, and others. He lives with his boyfriend Nathan and two (wicked) pussycats.