Bond West

Published on Mar 25, 2006

Gay

BOND WEST III

by Russell S. res1961@sbcglobal.net

(M, M) story includes homosexual sex of a graphic nature, which is kind of the point of these stories, don't you think? Let me know if you liked it, I appreciate the feedback.

The third episode of the activities of Bond West, a young man making his living as an escort to other men; generally any man with the cash.

III

It was early Sunday morning, the first rays of light peaking in around the drapes. Sleepily, Bond wadded his pillow under his head and rolled onto his stomach away from the sun. There was no way he was getting out of bed yet, he'd been out late with a client. A business man in town for a three-day conference had paid for the works; dinner, drinks at several different bars, then back to his hotel room where he proceeded to drunkenly suck Bond's cock. He was terrible at it, most of the married clients couldn't suck worth a damn, which Bond sarcastically chalked up to their wives not having dicks to practice on.

"Just another closet case," thought Bond as the middle aged man on his knees stopped sucking long enough to ask Bond to fuck him.

He wasn't into it, but Bond managed to stay hard long enough to fuck the not-too-firm ass as he fantasized about hot guys he'd been with. He'd even conjured up an image of his roommate, Brent, a total hottie as far as Bond was concerned. Brent's dark hair, lean, muscular build, and the boyish angular face of an A&F model provided all the imagination Bond needed to fill up the condom, finishing his part of the fuck and quickly pulling out. He hoped his client had had enough.

Walking to the bathroom Bond dropped the condom in the toilet, flushed, cleaned himself up with a warm washcloth, then returned to the other room. Unsure if it was the sex or the liquor, Bond found his client flat on his stomach where he'd left him, but now snoring loudly. The man had not bothered to hide his wallet, so Bond paid himself the agreed upon amount, resisting the temptation to accept a bonus.

"You can call me a whore," Bond said to himself, "but you can't call me a thieving whore."

Bond dropped into bed as soon as he got home to the apartment, unaware of whether Brent was home or not. As the new day began, he heard the sounds of his roommate prepare for his daily ritual, a two mile run through the neighborhood. Since it was Sunday, he might even go for three.

Unaware of how much time had passed since he'd heard Brent leave for his run, Bond woke up to the smell of bacon. He glanced at his nightstand clock; 9:17. Rousing himself, Bond tossed off the covers. Lazily, he stretched his naked body this way and that, finally throwing his legs over the side and standing up. He stretched once more, on tip-toes with his arms reaching for the ceiling, then walked to his dresser. Retrieving a pair of orange boxer briefs, Bond covered himself and left his room. The smell of the bacon, and now the sound of frying eggs, lured him into the kitchen.

Brent glanced over from the sink where he stood drinking water. "Hey, roomie."

"Hey," Bond echoed. "What's all this?"

"Nothing special, I just wanted to," Brent explained.

Standing behind his roommate, Bond ran the palm and fingers of one hand over Brent's bare back, feeling the musculature. His mind returned briefly to the imagined sex he'd used as a crutch with his client, causing his cock to twitch.

Brent turned his face toward his roommate again and smiled as he heard Bond voice his appreciation. "Thanks."

The food was served up and both boys sat at the table chit-chatting back and forth about what their plans were. Brent was going to the gym that afternoon, Bond was going to hang around the apartment. As they talked and ate they felt their knees occasionally touch, eventually coming to rest against each other. Brent moved one bare foot closer to Bond, placing it over the toes of Bond's right foot. Bond wondered if maybe something was going on, but when it didn't progress he assumed Brent was just being his overly friendly self. As Brent stood up to gather the now empty plates, Bond noticed a significant bulge within his roommate's shorts. He stared briefly, but didn't acknowledge it. With no mention of the situation, Brent returned to the kitchen to clean up.

The rest of the morning went on like a typical Sunday for the pair, sitting around reading the newspaper, watching TV, checking email. Bond noticed more than once that Brent seemed preoccupied, and twice caught his friend staring in his direction. Out of the corner of his eye Bond saw Brent adjust his junk a few times, at one point sporting a full erection. If Brent was horny he never mentioned it, but it certainly looked that way. The question in Bond's mind was if his roommate was horny for him.

Brent left for the gym just like he'd planned, leaving Bond alone for a couple of hours. Finding a semi-interesting movie to watch, he lazily settled onto the couch. About half way into the film the cell phone rang.

"Bond West," he answered, as always.

"Hello, Bond, how are you?" the caller asked. "It's David, we got together a few weeks ago, if you remember."

Bond did remember, thinking back. David was around 45, stately mannered, a gym body, and loaded. After the two had met at David's huge home north of downtown Bond realized he probably could have quoted double his usual price without David batting an eye. He told Bond he normally never paid for sex, but had been thinking about it; something totally no-strings with a younger guy. They'd spent a couple of hours together, lots of foreplay, a long session of 69, then taking turns fucking each other all over the master bedroom. Bond assumed David was calling for a repeat of his services.

"Actually," David said, "I've got something else in mind." Bond listened as his client explained.

"A dear friend is having a birthday next weekend, I'm setting up a party at my place, probably around thirty men. If you're interested, I'd like to have you as a dancer. I'm really looking for two dancers, if you know anyone else to suggest. What do you say?"

Bond considered the offer briefly, then affirmed, "I can handle that. And I know a second guy who I've worked with before, but I'll let you call him and see what he says."

David gave a sigh of relief. "That's wonderful, I had no idea who else to call."

"His name is Chris," said Bond, then rattled off a phone number. "Ask him to call me after you've talked to him, if he says yes. And I think he will."

Saying thanks to each other, they ended the call. A few minutes later the phone rang again.

"Bond West."

"Fucking whore," the voice swore. "How are you?"

Bond laughed into the phone. "Christopher, you slutty bitch, what's up?"

The two of them had met professionally a few months ago, both hired separately by the same guy, neither one knowing it would be a three-way until they showed up. It had gone ok, although they had enjoyed each other far more then they'd enjoyed their mutual client. Afterwards they'd grabbed a late dinner together, passing the time sharing stories of various customers, good and bad. Bond had found it fun, and somewhat supportive, to talk about how he made a living with someone in the same line of work. Chris was a little older than Bond, 28, tall, with a muscular, tight body kept cleanly shaved except for the dark brown hair on his head and a small matching patch above his dick.

"What do you think about David's party?" Chris asked, curious of Bond's take on the offer.

"I think it's cool," Bond assured him. "He seems like a honest guy, if he says we're dancers then I think that's all he meant. And don't worry about not getting paid."

"Ok," agreed Chris. "I wasn't too sure about taking on thirty guys."

Bond laughed again. "Yeah, like your gaping ass couldn't take them on two at a time, fucker."

"You cunt," Chris chuckled.

Bond agreed to pick Chris up and drive them both since he already knew the place, then they said their goodbyes.

The week passed quickly for Bond, although only having gone out on calls Monday and Wednesday night had kept activity to a minimum. When Saturday rolled around Bond was ready for the dancing gig. The $300 for a few hours work would go a long way. Picking up Chris, the two young men drove to David's lavish house.

David warmly greeted them at the front door, a martini glass in hand.

"Are we too early?" Bond asked, looking around the large room. A buffet table was set up with food, wine, and liquor, along with assorted chairs and sofas scattered about. A huge entertainment center filled almost an entire wall, plus two small, foot tall platforms on the floor at the corners for him and Chris to dance on, but no partiers.

David reassured him all was well. "No, you're right on time. I wanted you here before the guests arrived."

As he showed them around the party room and a little more of the house David continued. "Keep in mind this is a private residence, all the men who'll be here are friends I've known for years, so feel free to let things go, if you know what I mean."

"I don't know about Bond," said Chris, "but I'm not shy at all. What ever happens, happens."

Bond grinned at Chris. "I'm sure we'll manage."

"Great," David smiled, sipping his martini. "I've got a dozen more things to take care of, so you two go ahead and change into whatever you're wearing. Or not wearing. People should be showing up around 7:00."

David headed toward a side door, then stopped suddenly and added, "Check the CDs for whatever music you want to play, I'll leave that up to you boys. One less thing I've got to worry about." Quickly, the host disappeared through the doorway.

Making their way back to the party room and then into an adjoining sitting room, Bond and Chris dropped the small bags they'd each brought containing various items of clothing they could use while dancing. Bond didn't know about Chris, but his own bag also contained condoms and lube, items he never went to work without. Within a few minutes they had both stripped naked, then donned their respective costumes. Bond wore a pair of bright red briefs and white tennis shoes, while Chris chose white Calvin boxer briefs and white crew socks.

Looking each other over they nodded their approval of the others' gear.

"Hot," Chris said, reaching over and flicking Bond's left nipple.

"You, too," complimented Bond as he patted Chris' butt. "I'd forgotten what a cute ass you have."

"Thanks. You've got quite a bubble yourself."

Bond's cock throbbed a couple of beats before he broke his gaze from Chris' eyes. "We better set up some music." Chris followed as Bond led the way back into the big room.

Finding several hundred CDs in a cabinet above the sound system, they hunted, sorted, and made choices for the evening's entertainment, picking out a mix of various music styles. It was almost 7:00 as they loaded their choices into the CD player and set it to shuffle. The music began just as the first guests rang the doorbell.

As the party started and the guests hugged and kissed their greetings to each other, Bond and Chris began to dance to the music. Gyrating their bodies to the rhythm they paid little attention to the men chatting near them, nibbling on food, and otherwise enjoying the party. Both boys knew they were eye candy; entertainment for the guests. Men came and went, roaming the party room and other areas of the house.

After an hour of dancing non-stop the two were shining with sweat. Bond signaled he was taking a break, so Chris followed him into the room they'd used earlier.

"I don't get it," Chris said, shaking his head. "What are we supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody's paying much attention to us. I don't know about you, but a little tip money would be nice."

Bond looked at Chris and smiled. "Then let's get their attention."

Pushing down the front his briefs, Bond stroked his cock, working it up hard. Pushing his erection to one side he was able to keep it covered under the small amount of fabric, but the outline was obvious. Chris smiled, winked at Bond, then did the same.

"One more thing," said Bond as he stepped up to Chris and grabbed his hips, grinding their cocks together. "Stay horny."

Chris immediately pressed his lips to Bond's, kissing him. Bond responded with his tongue, sliding it into Chris' mouth. Bond's cock expanded even more, stretching his briefs, while Chris' hardon throbbed against him.

"Horny is not a problem," Chris promised.

Eyes darted toward them as they returned to the party room. At least a few of the guests seemed to notice their cocks, staring longer than they had before.

"Let's push the platforms together," Bond suggested. With Chris' help they were quickly dancing next to each other. Moving to the sound, they looked into the crowd, occasionally making eye contact with various men, teasingly rubbing their cocks.

A couple of minutes into it one of the guests approached. Stepping in front of Bond, he whipped out a $1 bill from his pocket. Bond shook his cock in the man's direction and allowed him to pull the briefs away and get a good look before stuffing the money inside. He then moved and did the same with Chris. Other men were soon approaching from different directions, each with dollars to offer for a look.

When one of the guests approached Chris with $5 and asked what he could get for it, Chris brazenly pushed down the front of his boxer briefs, tucking the elastic under his balls. The guest glanced up at Chris, then back to the swaying cock, the tip of his tongue darting slightly from his mouth.

Leaning down, Chris whispered, "Go ahead, taste it if you want to." As he returned to an upright position, he moved slightly closer to the man's mouth.

The guest hesitated a moment, but then opened his mouth just enough to get the head of Chris' cock inside, licked it once with his tongue, and backed away.

Chris smiled seductively down at him.

Bond was smiling, too, as he watched the exchange. His cock was straining against the material of his tight briefs. Another guest walked up to him, also with a $5 bill.

"Can I?" the gentleman asked. Bond nodded.

With no assistance, the man reached out and freed Bond's cock. Springing out, it pointed directly to the man's face. Taking it his hand, the man stroked twice, then licked the head. Two more strokes followed, and another lick, before the man retreated.

Now that things were exposed both dancers left their cocks out for all to admire. Some guests touched, one or two others licked or sucked momentarily. From across the room one partier loudly suggested, "Let's see some ass!" Whistles and hoots followed from others, egging on the boys to get naked. Bond glanced at Chris to see him pushing his boxer briefs down and off, which Bond quickly matched. Both naked except for their feet, they turned away from the men. A loud chorus of approval greeted them as they danced, their asses swaying and grinding to the music. Moving closer together, Chris put his arm over Bond's shoulders as they synchronized their movements.

As the sexual tension built up between them they kissed again, delighting the crowd of men in the room. Over the music someone yelled, "Get a room!", producing giggles and laughs from the other party guests and big smiles from both dancers.

When the party wound down Bond and Chris were thanked by several guests for a good show, plus receiving a few friendly pats on the butt. People began to leave, eventually dwindling the crowd down to the David and four others. Still naked, the boys nibbled on remaining food along the buffet, chatting and touching between themselves. Although not hard, their cocks stayed plump.

The few remaining guests continued to visit with David. As he ate, Bond noticed looks and body language suggesting the topic of discussion was him and Chris. Shortly, David stood up and walked toward them.

"Great show, guys," David praised. "We all loved it."

Chris expressed his thanks first, followed by Bond.

"Uh," David stammered, "there's one more thing, if you're up for it."

Bond's cock tingled, sensing a call to action. "What?" he asked.

"The four guys left are two couples, to be blunt they want you to fuck."

"Oh, yeah?" Chris asked, looking toward the four men. None of them were particularly attractive to him, but not bad looking. He'd certainly fucked worse, he considered to himself. "Which ones want to get fucked?"

David followed Chris' eyes to where the men sat on the sofas. "Oh, no, you misunderstand. They want to watch you two fuck each other."

Two pair of eyes widened at this revelation, Bond's and Chris'. They looked at each other already knowing they'd be happy to fuck, but hadn't considered making it an exhibition.

Sensing their possible reluctance, David made an offer. "Would $500 persuade you? On top of the $300 for dancing?"

Just as Bond was about to ask for a minute to talk it over, Chris interrupted. "Ok."

"I guess that's a 'yes,'" agreed Bond. "Give us five minutes to get ready?"

"Sure," David answered. "Just start whenever you're set."

Walking into the side room, they shut the door behind them.

"Wow, I can't believe it," Chris stated.

"Kind of unexpected, for sure," said Bond, slightly nervous.

Chris suddenly noticed Bond's anxiousness and approached him. "You ok with it?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I fuck for a living, just never for an audience before."

Chris wrapped his arms around Bond from behind, his hands lightly rubbing Bond's chest, teasing his nipples, instantly hardening them. Bond's cock stirred again, lengthening and straightening upwards. As he returned to full erection, Bond felt Chris nibbling his ear.

"Block everyone else out," Chris whispered. "You only have to pay attention to me, and me to you." Chris' hard dick poked at Bond's beautifully curved ass as his hands continued to play along his chest and stomach.

Turning around within Chris' arms, they kissed again, long and deep. Warm drops of precum smeared across their abs as they ground together, working themselves to a horny peak.

"God, I want to fuck you," growled Chris, low in his throat.

Bond was getting breathless at the idea. "Yeah?" he muttered. "You're going to fuck me?"

"Hell, yeah, I am."

Breaking away from the embrace, Bond went to his bag and retrieved the condoms and lube.

"Let's do this in here," Bond instructed, popping the cap on the lube. Squirting some into one hand, he reached around and began working the slick liquid into his hole.

"Give me some, too," Chris asked.

Each boy lubed himself, then switched to sliding a finger or two into the others' butt.

"Fuck," groaned Bond. "Let's go before I cum."

Taking the condoms with them, they returned to where the men were waiting. The two couples were there, but not David. Too horny to really care, neither boy asked where their host was.

Looking briefly at their small audience, Bond and Chris turned toward each other. They started kissing, fondling, and groping, just as they would have in a room alone. An upholstered chair with a towel over the cushion had been placed about ten feet from where the couples sat, and the two hustlers moved to it. Chris sat down, his cock pointing straight up, inviting Bond to suck. On his knees between Chris' legs, his ass toward the onlookers, Bond bent forward and began sliding and slurping on Chris' cock.

The pleasure of it wasn't wasted on Chris. "Oh, yeah, baby, suck my cock."

At Chris' urging Bond sucked harder, the heat from the hard meat in his mouth making him want it in his ass even more.

From behind him Bond heard one of the men request softly, "Fuck his ass."

Gently lifting Bond's head from his lap, Chris stood up, pulling Bond with him. Turning him toward the side of the chair, Chris easily bent Bond over the padded arm, his ass in perfect position. Deftly rolling a condom down the length of his cock, Chris held it in his hand, lining up the head at Bond's lubed asshole. Sliding it up and down between the cheeks to gather a little more lube, Chris took aim and pushed. The eyes of the four men watching focused on this initial penetration.

As the head pushed in, Bond's back arched, his eyes squinted shut, a slight look of discomfort on his face. A tiny moan escaped his mouth, quickly replaced by, "AAAHHHHHHH," as more of Chris burrowed inside him. Very soon Bond felt the prickle of Chris' pubic hair on his ass cheeks, the top boy grinding in as deeply as he could, waiting a few brief moments before starting a slow slide out.

"Hot ass, baby," Chris said quietly as Bond's pulsing tunnel gripped his cock. The second full thrust went in more easily and faster. After two more preliminary moves, Chris was unable to hold back. Involuntarily his hips began a rolling fuck movement.

Like a switch suddenly flipped, the cock stretching Bond open was all pleasure. "Fuck me," Bond urged under his breath, repeated with a louder, "Fuck my ass!"

From the short distance away the four men watching were all hard, one of whom had his cock out, stroking.

Chris took his time, making longer thrusts, giving Bond the full enjoyment of his whole cock. As it grew more intense, Chris became more vocal.

"Oh...yeah...fuck...yeah, baby...take my cock...fucking your boy ass."

Sounds of a wet mouth sucking cock came from the direction of the couples, along with moans of approval, as the partner of one began a blowjob, the second two jacking each other off.

Bond reached under and began to stroke his own cock, using his abundant precum for lube. The cock inside him felt incredible, hitting just the right spot each time it barged in. Chris planted his hands firmly on Bond's waist, pulling and pushing the bubble-shaped ass on and off his hardness.

Bond stroked his cock for several minutes in sync with Chris' fucking, drawing out the intensity as long as he could. Rubbing his cock from the outside as Chris worked from the inside, Bond felt the first tiny flutter of an impending orgasm. Bond slowed his stroke hoping to make it last, but couldn't stop the cascade as the muscles between his cock and well-filled ass began to tighten.

"OH, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM!"

Seconds later a thick, white eruption forced it's way out, followed by two more, leaving trails across the towel and the opposite arm of the chair. Residual amounts flowed out over his moving fingers, adding to the slickness along his rigid dick.

"ME, TOO!", boomed Chris, humping wildly into the hot, wet hole clamped down on his cock. His face contorted in pleasurable pain, muscles strained and bulging, forcing out his own load, emptying deep within Bond's body, restrained only by the thin layer of latex.

Other orgasms occurred a few feet away, staggered out among the four men watching, until each was drained and satisfied.

The big room resonated with the sounds of heavy breathing. The smell of cum swirled through the air. Still hard and embedded in Bond's ass, Chris stood still as if he were asleep, then jerked suddenly back to consciousness when one of the men watching stood up and zipped his pants.

"That was the hottest fuck I've ever seen," the man commented, his face flushed. "You two should do porn."

Bond blushed, then tensed as Chris pulled away and out of his butt. His ambitions didn't run toward being a porn star, but he appreciated the intended compliment.

David found Chris and Bond as they were getting dressed in the side room, cleaned up from their performance. He'd run out to an ATM for more cash, but had returned just in time to see them cum. Thanking them both again, he paid them for the dancing and the show, as promised.

"I'll definitely call next time I throw a party," David offered.

"Cool," Chris said, grinning. "It was fun and hot. And next time Bond can fuck me."

THE END

More Bond West to come, as I get time to do it. If you liked it so far, I'd love to hear from you. Russell, res1961@sbcglobal.net

Next: Chapter 4


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive