The Guy Most Likely to Get Laid

By marcar001

Published on Jan 12, 2002

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"The Guy Most Likely to Get Laid"

Carlos Z. Martinos

For men who like man-to-man sex. All others should just keep on surfing. The setting is a mountain cabin above Boulder, Colorado. It's the pre-condom year of 1980.

Ka-Pow! Ka-Pow! Ka-Pow!

Three pistol shots ring out and then echo through the night, as a winter storm rages down the mountain canyon. And the roar of the wind rushing through the pines seems momentarily diminished - somehow intimidated by the incongruity of pistol shots in this pristine forest. It's as if this wooded wonderland, so far removed from the boisterous turmoil of civilization, has for an instant become a part of the urban jungle.

Still holding his book, Laird runs to the living room window. His eyes focus on a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness, holding a smoking revolver and running through the snow with the athletic grace of a panther.

"Oh shit! It's Patrick . . ." The rest of Laird's thoughts are interrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. Laird walks slowly to the door and opens it a crack. And Patrick comes bounding in. "Took you long enough to open the fucking door, Laird."

"It's good to see you too, Patrick." The sarcasm drips from Laird's voice as he warily eyes his adversary of the past ten years.

In 1970, some ten years ago, Laird's parents and Patrick's parents bought vacation mountain cabins on adjoining one acre lots. The two families threw a big bash to celebrate their new bucolic lifestyles. And within minutes Laird and Patrick, both eight years old, were fighting. It was a memorable introduction - a bloody nose for Laird and a black eye for Patrick. And prophetic too. The boys have been cat and dog ever since.

But over the past three years the relationship has become more complex. Hormones have started raging, and a "friendship" based on unrequited sexual attraction has developed. And in the past year that friendship has evolved into a relationship of playful insults, heavily sprinkled with sexually suggestive innuendos.

The boys are both eighteen now, and they're both seniors at Boulder High. Laird is Chess Club and Drama Club and National Honor Society. Patrick is football and gymnastics and "the guy most likely to get laid every Saturday night" as voted by his classmates.

"What are you doing up here at the cabin, Patrick? It's Saturday night. I figured you'd be down in Boulder somewhere, getting yourself laid." Laird can't resist twisting the knife.

"You're just lucky I'm here, Laird. With that storm howling the way it is, you need a tough, macho jock like me around, to protect you." Patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to cover the grin that insists on tugging up the corners of his mouth.

"YOU protect ME?!" Laird smirks. "That's like the fox protecting the chickens."

"Hey Laird, that's a great analogy. Lord knows I'm a foxy bastard. And with that innocent little boy look of yours, you're definitely a chicken."

"Okay, Foxy. So why are you prowling around on a miserable night like this?"

"The storm blew down a tree, and it took out our power lines, Laird. And then, as I was plodding through the snow drifts on my way over here, a grizzly bear came lumbering out of the woods! I fired three shots into the air, just to scare him off."

Laird smirks at Patrick, and with his fake Irish brogue he says, "So you're packin' a six shooter now, are you Patty? Wasn't it just last year, lad, that you told me you went bear huntin' with a switch?"

"That's right, smart-ass. But I'm not hunting BEAR tonight." Patrick shoots Laird a wicked smirk, and continues, "so I'm gonna stay here and keep you safe, Laird. Until the snow plow gets up here. And I brought a bottle of vodka with me, man! We'll get drunk and watch all our inhibitions just melt away." Patrick delivers his last line with a wink and a grin.

"You're a gorgeous Neanderthal, Patrick. But I wish you wouldn't come on to me like that, you jerk! I never know if you're yanking my chain or if you're really serious." Then, drawling in his drama club Texas accent, Laird says, "So pardner, unless you got yourself a cute little filly outside somewheres, I'm `fraid you're gonna be playin' with yourself tonight."

Patrick gives Laird his best hottie stare, "Now why would I be interested in a little filly, Laird, when I have a sexy young stallion like you right here beside me?"

"YOU'RE a stallion, Patrick, and I'M a pony. And you know it, you cocky bastard. And if anything SHOULD happen between us tonight, tomorrow morning you would be, "God was I drunk last night!"

"I would never pull that routine on you, Laird. You turn me on, man. There's no way I would ever pretend that I wanted you only 'cause I was drunk."

"Patrick, you've got a girlfriend in Boulder. Kathy. And I'm sure you'll be seeing her in a few days. So just keep it in your pants until then. Okay?"

"Hey, man! Kathy and I are just two ships, passing in the night. She's been good for a quick toss in the hay. But by mutual agreement we broke it off last night."

"I would like to believe that, Patrick. But that gleam in your eye tells me you're probably bullshitting me. I don't want us to get it on tonight `cause it would just be "wham-bam, thank you man". I want an emotional and intellectual relationship, to go along with the physical. I've never had sex with anyone, Patrick, and I want the first time to be special."

And Patrick is totally blindsided by Laird's last remark. It had never occurred to him that Laird was a virgin, or that Laird might want some kind of relationship. He's so stunned all he can manage is, "Hey, Laird, I'm gonna make us a couple of drinks. Then we'll sit down and discuss it. Okay?"

And Laird merely nods as he watches Patrick glide across the room to the bar. "God, how I envy Patrick. It's unfair that one guy should have so much athletic grace. And it's unfair that he should have such an easy-going, playful, seductive nature. And it's unfair that he should have milky blue eyes that grab hold of me and never turn me loose. And it's unfair that his blond hair sparkles golden in the sunshine. And it's unfair that his muscles ripple and bulge every time he moves. And it's unfair that his 175 pounds are packed into such a gorgeous six foot bod. If only I could measure up to Patrick physically, maybe we COULD have a relationship."

Patrick stands at the bar with his back to the room, mixing the drinks. "God, how I envy Laird. Laird with his towering intellect. Laird who will graduate from high school in a few months with a perfect 4.0 grade point average. I look at him and I can just visualize all those synapses snapping in his brain. Thinking. He's always thinking. It's impressive! And it's intimidating!"

And then there's Laird, the little boy. Laird with his "pretty boy" face. Laird with his lean 150 pounds stretched out beautifully on a five foot eleven frame. Laird with his curly black hair and his adorable pug nose. Laird with his limpid green eyes that seem to be saying "fuck me" every time I look into them. Laird with his sensual mouth and his cute little bubble butt - those inviting portals of entry that drive me wild. If only I could measure up to Laird intellectually, maybe we COULD have a relationship."

Patrick's thoughts are interrupted by Laird, who has walked over to the bar and is standing beside him, looking dejected and forlorn.. "I've been thinking it over, Patrick, and this just isn't going to work out between us. I want a tender relationship. And you want a hot fuck. Our two ships better just pass in the night too." Laird turns away from Patrick, without giving him a chance to respond, and starts to walk toward the sofa.

Patrick grabs Laird by the shoulder and spins him around, roughly. "Don't turn your back on me like that, asshole!"

Laird knocks Patrick's hand off of his shoulder. "And don't spin me around like that, dickhead!"

The action in the next few seconds is a blur. Arms are flying and fists are flashing. And each boy manages to land a blow on the other's face.

"Ouch!" says Laird, as he lands on his ass.

"Ow!" says Patrick, as he stumbles and lands smack on top of Laird, in a tangle of arms and legs.

Neither boy moves or speaks for several seconds. Then, from somewhere under Patrick, comes a sound that just might be a snicker. And before long it has grown into a full blown laugh. And then both boys are laughing, as all their pent up stress and emotions melt away. It's that "can't-control-it, unabashed, let-it-all-hang-out" kind of laughter, that only teenage boys seem capable of creating. And whoever said "laughter is the best medicine" was right-on. Teenage boys use laughter regularly to heal a multitude of physical and emotional aches and pains.

The boys are lying nose to nose and toes to toes, with Patrick on top. When the laughter finally subsides, Patrick props himself up on his elbows and stares down into Laird's face, only a foot or so away. "OH MY GOD! I am so sorry, Laird!" Patrick digs in his pocket, pulls out his handkerchief, and gently wipes Laird's nose. "I hope you'll forgive me, Laird. I'm afraid I've given you a bloody nose ---- again."

Laird touches his nose gingerly with a hesitant finger, looks into Patrick's eyes, and tries to hide the grin that flickers across his face. "And your eye is starting to swell, Patrick. I'm afraid I've given you a black eye ---- again."

And then they're off again. Laughing and hollering and whooping it up. Just like a couple of school boys. And of course that's exactly what they are.

This time, when their laughter subsides, it's different. Patrick, still propped up on his elbows and lying on top of Laird, looks deeply into his eyes. And Laird returns Patrick's stare without flinching. At some point both boys feel a stiring in their groins. Patrick puts a hand softly on Laird's cheek. Laird puts a hand on the back of Patrick's head, and pulls his head down to meet his own.

Their first kiss is gentle. Tentative. Experimental. Two boys who have known one another for ten years are finally getting to know one another. As their kiss progresses it gets more intense. More passionate. Open mouths beckon exploring tongues. And both boys sigh deeply, as the unfulfilled sexual tension that has been building between them for years is finally starting to crumble.

When they come up for air Patrick says, "Umm! You didn't shave today, Laird. When I think about how pretty you are, and then I feel your masculine stubble rubbing against my cheek. Whoa! It's an erotic contrast, man."

"And something else, Laird. You've always had a faint aroma about you that drives me wild. It's not a cologne or anything. It's just you. And I could taste that same aroma when we kissed. It's hot, man!"

"Before we go any further, I've got a confession to make, Laird. I may be the guy most likely to get laid, but I've never laid another guy. I'm a fucking virgin when it comes to gay sex. But it sure SOUNDS hot to me. And you LOOK hot to me. So let's teach each other. It'll be like an academic course. Gay Sex 101. With lots of lab sessions." Big grin from Patrick.

Laird returns the grin and then moves his hand down to Patrick's bulging crotch. "I've never seen you with a hard-on, Patrick. Even though I've fantasized about it a zillion times. Show me."

Patrick stands up and strips. Slowly. He knows that Laird is getting turned on by watching him, so he draws it out. Finally, when he's down to his jockeys, he takes Laird's hand and puts it on his crotch. "Pull my shorts off for me, Laird. I want you up close and personal for this moment."

Laird complies. Naked now, Patrick stands facing Laird, who is still sitting on the floor. And Laird stares in awe at Patrick's breathtaking tool. Eight thick inches of rock hard cock is standing proudly erect, straight out from his body. Cautiously, Laird reaches out his hand, gingerly touches Patrick's dick, and lightly runs a finger up and down the length of it.

Then he wraps his hand around it, gently at first and then tightly. He marvels at the way his hand is filled up by Patrick's cock. And he feels it throbbing and pulsing in his hand, as if it has a life of its own. Then Laird shyly reaches forward with his other hand and touches Patrick's balls. They are pulled up tight, at the base of his dick, and Laird caresses them lightly with the tips of his fingers.

Now, with both of his hands massaging Patrick's most intimate parts, he looks up into Patrick's eyes. They are filled with a look of erotic bliss. And Laird knows that no other man has ever given Patrick this kind of sexual pleasure. And now he has a feeling of connectedness to Patrick that is total and complete. And he is awestruck by the beauty that he sees and feels before him.

Then Laird notices the pre-cum that is oozing onto Patrick's cock head. He leans forward and licks it into his mouth. And it is the nectar of the gods. He looks up into Patrick's eyes and says, "I love it, Patrick. Make some more for me."

Patrick looks down and whispers into Laird's ear "I'm gonna make a lot more of it for you, Laird. You know what that is, don't you, man? That's nature's own lube. I'm gonna make more of it so that it will help lube my dick when I'm fucking you tonight, Laird. I really want to fuck you, man. Tell me that I can."

To break the tension for a moment, Laird reverts to his faux Texas accent. "You got a right tasty lookin' tool on you, Patrick. But there ain't no way that monster ramrod of yours would fit up inside of me."

"Well, amigo," Patrick drawls in imitation of Laird's accent, "where I come from we never say never." The boys look at one another for a moment, and then they both burst out laughing once more. And again they're just like a couple of school boys. Having sex and having fun.

They're quiet for a minute, as their laughter subsides. Then Patrick says, "My mama always told me I should hold my boyfriend's hand before I fuck him." Trying to keep a straight face, he takes Laird's hand in his, raises it to his mouth and kisses it gently. Still holding Laird by the hand, he takes the lube from his pants and then leads the way into the bedroom.

The bedroom is dark, except for two amber night lights which cast an erotic glow on the room. Patrick embraces Laird, and then slowly undresses him. When Laird is totally naked Patrick steps back and gives him an appraising look. "I haven't seen you stripped for a year or so, Laird. You never told me you've become such a hunk! You sly old devil! Been putting in some serious gym time, haven't you, stud? And just look at you man! You're not only a stud. You're a hung stud!"

"Whoa, Patrick! I haven't blushed in ten years. But I'm right on the verge now." And then they both start laughing again.

They stand admiring one another for a moment now. Both of them exuding a youthful, masculine beauty, with their cocks standing at full attention. Then Laird opens the drawer of the end table beside the bed, pulls out a picture and hands it to Patrick. "Since this is Gay Sex 101, I figure we should have a visual aid." Laird is trying to look serious, but a grin flickers across his face.

The picture is of two guys fucking, and Patrick studies it intently. "I just want to be sure I remember the positions. There might be a pop quiz at the end of the class. And if there is, I'm aiming to get an A+."

"So just lie down on the bed, on your back, sweetheart." Patrick is doing his Humphrey Bogart imitation now. "And think happy thoughts. 'Cause this is gonna be the best night of your life. And regardless of what our future holds for us, Laird, we'll always have Boulder." And even though Patrick is a macho dude, Laird hears what sounds suspiciously like a giggle coming from Patrick.

Patrick gets on the bed with Laird, and kneels between his legs. Then the boys lapse into silence for several minutes. Their hormones are taking both of them to a state of full arousal now. Patrick takes Lairds cock into his hand and starts slowly jerking it, while cupping Laird's balls with his other hand. Then he surprises Laird as he lowers his head, goes down on him, and proceeds to make love to his dick for several minutes. Sucking and kissing and licking and slurping and then sucking some more. What he lacks in experience he makes up for with enthusiasm and fervor.

Patrick puts both hands on top of Patrick's golden blond head, and he moans his encouragement as he watches his cock plunge in and out of Patrick's mouth. At one point Patrick takes Laird's cock so far into his mouth that he momentarily chokes on it. He glances up at Laird with a sheepish look on his face. But undaunted, he goes down again, this time without choking. And with Laird's dick still in his mouth, he stares up at him with a triumphant look in his eyes. And the boys' introduction to hot oral sex has taken them both to paradise and back

"Ummm!" Patrick moans as he pulls off Laird. "I hope that turned you on as much as it did me, sweetheart!"

"I've discovered sexual Nirvana, Patrick!" Laird pants. "My brain is trying to process all these new sensations. But I'm gonna disengage it now, and just let my emotions take control. I won't try to intellectualize anything. It'll be just you and me, alone in the world. Just you and me touching and feeling and seeing and smelling and . . . "

"And fucking," Patrick grins.

"And fucking," Laird grins back.

When Patrick speaks next his voice has become a whisper, his tone conspiratorial. "You're one of the most masculine dudes I know, Laird. But just like all males, you have a feminine side too. And tonight for a while, it's your feminine side that will guide you. And tonight it's my masculine, alpha-male side that will guide me."

Patrick applies a generous glob of lube to his throbbing dick. Then he whispers, "I'm gonna lift your thighs now, Laird, and push em back toward your chest. I want you to grab em and hold `em there, 'cause I'm gonna enter you now. I want you to lie back and relax and take me in. It's the first time for both of us, sweetheart, so think candle light and violins."

"That's my cockhead you feel now, Laird. I'm gonna enter you slowly but steadily. This part will probably be uncomfortable for you, 'cause I'm so damn thick. But just hang on. Here we go, Laird. I'm pushing into you now. That's it. buddy. My dickhead's into you now. And I'm pushing on in . . . . I'm sliding on into you . . . . . Just open up and accept me, sweetheart. I know you want to submit to me tonight.

After several long moments of deep groaning by both boys, Patrick exclaims, "We did it, Laird! I'm in you all the way now. My thick rod has filled you up. I'm proud of you Laird. It's your first time, and you took me like a trooper. Now we're gonna rest for a minute, while you think about having my thick tool all the way up inside of you. And the more you think about it, the better it's gonna feel."

"Tonight you're going to learn what it feels like to get fucked, Laird. You're going to learn what it feels like to have my hard, muscular body stretched out on top of you. You;re going to learn what it feels like when my hips are thrusting back and forth, propelling my golden cock into you over and over again. You're going to learn what it feels like when my cock erupts deep within you and fills you up with my seed. And you're going to learn to love it, Laird. All of it. Just as much as I do!"

Then Patrick lowers his body onto Laird's, with his cock still impaling Laird's ass. The boy's mouths find one another in a long open-mouth kiss. Then slowly and gently Patrick pulls his dick almost all the way out of Laird, and then eases it back in. With his tongue deep in Laird's mouth, he establishes a slow, rhythic fucking motion with his hips. Deep, slow strokes.

"I'm gonna be a slow fucker tonight, sweetheart. This is too good to hurry. I'm gonna make it last."

"Umm, Patrick," Laird growls, "let's go at it all night, man. You feel fucking incredible. You called yourself an alpha-male, and you got that right. You must be dripping testosterone all over the sheets!"

"So fuck me hard, Patrick! Fuck me until our two bodies have merged into one. Fuck me and fill me up with that gorgeous dick of yours. Prove to me tonight that you really ARE my alpha-male!"

And time ceases to exist as the boys continue their erotic adventures. Having sex. Having fun. And discovering an intimacy between them that neither boy would have thought possible just a few hours ago.

Then a quiet settles on the room. The silence is broken only by the soft suctioning sounds of two men fucking, and by the breathless moans and groans coming from both boys. Each time Patrick completes his stroke into Laird, he hesitates for just a fraction of a second and then gives another push into him. At that same moment Laird pushes his ass up to meet Patrick's thrust, and that pushes Patrick's cock even deeper into him. And both boys moan in wonder at the incredible sensations that they are creating with their bodies.

At some point Laird senses an almost imperceptible increase in Patrick's tempo - each stroke coming a fraction quicker than the one before. And Patrick's kisses become more intense, his tongue thrusting ever deeper into Laird's mouth.

And now, almost simultaneously, the boys slide into a euphoric state of sexual ecstasy. And without either of them fully understanding it, a unity develops between them. Two minds and souls merging as one. A harmonious joining of the carnal and the spiritual. And then that unmistakable feeling engulfs them both. That incredible sensation that tells them that orgasm is imminent.

"Oh my God, Laird!" Patrick whispers. "What are you doing to me?! I've never known these kinds of sexual sensations before! Oh, take me, man! My load is on its way! I made it for you, Laird! So take it, man!"

Patrick makes one final thrust. Eight inches of thick cock deep into Laird. And his first hot spurt of cum explodes into Laird's bowels. And moments later there's another blast, filling Laird's chute with Patrick's masculine, alpha-male sperm.

Then in a heartbeat, using his gymnast's skills to full advantage, Patrick pulls out of Laird and moves forward on Laird's body. Almost instantly Patrick's cock is positioned a couple of inches above Laird's mouth. He achieves his new position just in time. His dick pulses, and his shot splashes onto Laird's lips and chin.

Surprised and exhilerated, Laird opens his mouth in time to accept Patrick's next spurt, which gushes into his mouth and down his throat. Then several others follow, each one finding its mark deep into Laird's mouth.

This surprising finale pushes Laird over the top. He feels his dick contract in a spontaneous orgasm, sending his hot seed splashing onto himself and Patrick.

And thus our two boy-men achieve the ultimate intimacy.

With their arms wrapped tightly around one another, they lie motionless and mute. They find themselves unable to verbalize the thoughts and emotions racing through their minds. So they slide comfortably into a warm afterglow of touching and being touched. And they lie with bodies pressed tightly together. Neither one of them willing to break the bond they have created.

They lie that way for several hours. Drifting in and out of sleep. Finally Patrick ventures, "I know it's way to early to be using the "L" word, Laird. But I can't help myself. I think I just might kind of love you a little bit, sweetheart."

And Laird, who is smitten, flashes Patrick an innocent little boy grin, "This is all so sudden, Patrick. After all, we've only known each other for ten years. And yeah, I think I just might kind of love you a little bit too."


It's the year 2020 now. Forty years ago, "might kind of love you a little bit" blossomed into "love you forever and ever". Patrick and Laird are relaxing on the sofa in their family room, and Patrick's arm is draped casually over Laird's shoulders. They're both eyeing a couple of eight year old boys who are scuffling playfully on the floor.

Laird calls out, "Hey Larry. Don't punch Patty on the nose like that, honey. Last time you did that he got a bloody nose, and then he gave you a black eye."

Laird grins through gritted teeth, "Aren't they adorable when they fight like that, Patrick?! Just like we used to do some fifty years ago . . . . Yesterday, when we were young."

Patrick casts loving eyes on his partner. "I think I heard you gritting your teeth just now, sweetheart. But you gotta admit, the boys have enriched our lives."

Laird sighs deeply. "I know they have, Patrick. And I know neither of us has ever regretted our decision for a moment - that decision we made almost nine years ago to have ourselves cloned."

The End

Larry and Patty, the cloned sons of Laird and Patrick, are eight years old in the year 2020. Will they grow up and become lovers, just like their fathers? Time will tell.

marcar001@msn.com

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