Fog City Temptation (Bathhouse Confessions Book 4) Read online

  My catalog of moods was quickly flipping through the pages. At first, I was surprised, then confused, but now, something deeper and darker was taking hold. I felt warm in my cheeks and my stomach began twisting in knots.

  It wasn't embarrassment. It wasn't nerves. It was something else.

  I nodded. "Alright, lead the way."

  Lenny took off down the hall and I followed behind him. I didn't want him to spend too much time looking at my face. I feared it would betray me and give him a hint of what I was really feeling.

  Which was...

  I still couldn't pinpoint the feeling. It was like angry sadness.

  Why would Ricky waste his time on a clown like Lenny? Why would he spend time with anyone else but me?

  Lenny opened the door and motioned for me to go ahead into the room. I faked my best smile.

  Ricky was sitting on the bed when he saw me. His eyes widened with recognition. He looked happy to see me and that sent a flutter through my chest, mixed with my tangled bramble of foreign feelings.

  I took in the sight of Ricky's sculpted body. He was nude except for the same white cotton uniform Lenny and I were wearing.

  Lenny shed his towel first, hanging it on a hook by the door. "Look who I found," he said, beaming. "You two remember each other."

  Ricky stood to greet me. "Of course."

  I ignored him, turning to Lenny instead. "So you want us both, huh?"

  "Uh, yeah," Lenny said, as if it were a dumb thing to ask.

  "Let me get you warmed up." I grabbed a bottle of baby oil from the small bedside table and poured a generous pool in the palm of my hand, then took hold of Lenny's cock. He was hard in an instant and shuddered as I began vigorously stroking his lengthening shaft. "You like that, don't you?" I whispered.

  Ricky began planting soft kisses on my shoulder from behind. I ignored his advances, focusing on Lenny as I worked his cock.

  "Whoa, whoa, slow down there, partner," Lenny said between gasps.

  But I kept going, squeezing and pumping his slick dick until his whole body began to stiffen.

  "Cha-Charlie, wait, wait, too fast." But he showed no signs of pulling away so I kept stroking.

  My plan was to wear him out early and then send him on his way so I'd have the soldier all to myself.

  "Ah, fuck, I'm gonna shoot," Lenny groaned. A thick rope of cum burst from his cock and landed between our feet. I kept pumping, determined to make sure he would leave the room feeling completely spent.

  Finally, Lenny wilted in my hand like a dandelion plucked from its stem. He pulled away. "Too sensitive."

  The whole event must have taken less than two minutes. He stood there awkwardly with his floppy soft dick coated in oil and semen. He looked tired, confused, and a little angry about blowing his load.

  "Why'd you do that?" Lenny asked.

  That's when the answer hit me.

  Jealousy.

  The intense storm inside me, the sensation of anger and sadness duking it out, that was jealousy. It was an unfamiliar emotion, but so razor sharp that it consumed me.

  I patted his bare belly. "Sorry, Lenny boy. I just couldn't hold back. I wanted your dick so bad."

  A smile spread across Lenny's lips and his cheeks turned rosy pink with pride. "Ah, that's okay. I just wish you'd waited. I really wanted the three of us to play together."

  "Maybe next time," I said, taking his towel from the hook and offering it to him.

  "Yeah, okay." He nodded and cleaned himself off. "Well, you guys have fun. I'm going to take a shower and maybe go out. The cinema is playing a triple-feature of Rock Hudson films."

  "The guy who's always playing a cowboy?" I asked.

  Lenny nodded. "Yeah, but he's doing more serious stuff now. Romantic pictures. He's a real dreamboat."

  "Okay, well enjoy." I scooted Lenny out of the room and then finally worked up the nerve to look behind me at Ricky. He had his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

  When the door shut behind us, I felt the anger simmering to a slow burn. We were finally alone, the way I'd pictured us all week. The fact that he'd been willing to have sex with someone other than me left a blemish on the perfect picture in my mind.

  "You're quite a pistol, aren't you?" Ricky remarked.

  "Well, I do feel like a loaded gun." I reached between the overlap in his towel and grabbed hold of his cock and balls, forming my fingers into a tight ring. "Did I say you could share yourself with other people?"

  Ricky chuckled. "I didn't know we were going steady."

  I tightened my grip. "Oh, you think you're funny?"

  "No, but you are with this little act you're putting on." He seized my wrist and nudged me away from his jewels.

  Something about his steadfast confidence bothered me. He seemed so certain he had the upper hand. And I couldn't blame him. After all, I'd been the submissive one who got on my knees and allowed him to have his way with me.

  But I liked to turn the tables and surprise men. The bathhouse was an exhilarating opportunity for me to explore new identities; a stark contrast to the monotonous routines of my daily life. So I decided to go all the way to the other extreme and take on the role of the alpha dog.

  I tightened my jaw and narrowed my eyes. "That's enough out of you, maggot!" I barked. "Tonight I'm the drill sergeant."

  The smirk disappeared from Ricky's face. His back stiffened and he turned his gaze forward, standing tall and straight.

  "That's more like it," I said. "Now take off your towel and report for duty. I'm going to give you a full body inspection and you'd better be squeaky clean, soldier."

  "Yes, sir." He hung his towel and then stood in front of me with his arms down at his sides. The hint of a smile still lingered on his face, a sign that he was onto my game and willing to play along. I appreciated his versatility.

  Earlier in the week, I'd stopped at the library to do some research. I learned that the military had strict guidelines about hygiene. Soldiers were expected to report to duty clean-shaven, freshly showered, with teeth brushed and hair buzzed short. It was considered disrespectful if they showed up looking unkempt or smelling unclean. As a neat-freak myself, that mindset perfectly aligned with my own credo.

  Every muscle in Ricky's body was flexed as he stood there waiting patiently. I examined his perfect face while he stared unflinchingly at the wall. His jawline was square and hard as if cut from steel.

  I lifted his arm above his head, revealing the tight black curls that grew in the scoop. I'd always been curious about a man's armpits but never felt emboldened enough to explore them. This felt right, so I decided to go for it.

  Leaning into the slope beneath his arm, I deeply inhaled his fragrance. He was fresh, as I'd expected, but there was something indescribable about the humid environment. A natural aroma that I wanted to drink in like a fine wine.

  He shifted a little when my lips found his flesh. A minor twitch, but otherwise he stood stoically. I dragged my tongue from the muscular canvas at the peak of his ribcage up to the heart of his armpit where I swirled around and took my time tasting him. Then I moved north to the fleshy underside of his bicep.

  Ricky fought back a giggle that leaked out as a snort.

  I reached over and twisted his nipple. "Is something funny, soldier?" The nub grew hard between my fingertips and he quivered again.

  He suppressed a gasp. "No, sir."

  I mashed his nipple between my fingers as if it were a balloon I was trying to pop. "Then why did you laugh?"

  His knees seemed to buckle. "I'm just really sensitive under my arms and around my chest... Sir."

  I released his reddened nipple and slithered around his body, brushing against his rigid erection. Pre-cum was leaking from the tip of his tight foreskin. It smeared against my leg, leaving behind a sticky snail trail. I ignored it and took my place behind him.

  "Bend over," I commanded.

  He folded his body forward. I crouched down behind him. With excited fingers, I spread
apart his globes and took a long look at his hole. The tight knot puckered under my gaze, a telling sign that my steady and strong soldier was feeling a bit vulnerable and shy about such an intimate inspection.

  I was feeling a bit vulnerable myself. My sexual encounters were usually so casual and disconnected. Perhaps we bathhouse men made a habit of remaining as aloof as possible. Digits inserted into holes; in, out, in, out, until the anticipated fluids were extracted and the participants were spent. Then a hearty slap on the shoulder like a baseball player saying, 'Good game, sport.' And it was all over.

  But I was way past the point of being casual with Ricky. There was no denying it after my jealous display. So I went with the feeling and leaned in to greet his inviting hole.

  Just a timid flick with the pointed tip of my tongue, testing the atmosphere like a snake. I licked him from the tender, fleshy underside behind his balls all the way up to the spread.

  Ricky gasped softly. His composure was melting.

  I licked his hole again, this time flattening my tongue into a pad, spreading it slowly up the same path. He moaned and let his stiff spine relax.

  I probed deeper. We settled into a rhythm. I'd lick him, taste him, inhale the natural wonders of his flesh. He'd moan his appreciation, getting louder with more primal grunts that bellowed from the depths of his chest.

  Soon his muscles began to loosen, opening the gates of heaven for me. I stiffened my tongue again and probed inside his delicious hole. Then I darted it in and out, fucking him with frenzied motions.

  After soaking his hole in my saliva, getting it nice and wet and pliable, I acknowledged it with a wandering finger. Just the middle one, gently massaging Ricky's tight entrance, as if to say, 'Hello there, mind if I pop in for a visit?'

  He opened up for me without resistance. I slid inside slowly. My index finger, not wanting to be left out of the fun, chased after it.

  Ricky's breath quickened as I found my way to his pleasure epicenter, rubbing gently in a circular motion around the swollen bubble of his prostate. Around, but not directly on it. I wanted to tease those oh-so-sensitive nerves that formed a web around the gland, giving him a little preview of what was coming.

  I drove him around the block a few times and he began squirming impatiently. I knew he wanted my dick, but he'd have to wait.

  "You like the way it feels when I play with your hole?" I was trying on some dirty talk to see how it fit.

  "Oh, yeah," he groaned.

  I thumped the core of his prostate. "Do you want me to fuck you with a bit more pressure?"

  His breath seemed to catch in his throat as he murmured some semblance of a response.

  "I can't hear you."

  "Yesss," he groaned. Louder and clearer, he said, "Yes, fuck me hard. I want you, sir."

  "Alright then."

  I stiffened my pointers and worked in a third, my ring finger, to keep the other two company. Ricky was warm and wet and his body was stuffed full of me. I applied pressure directly to his prostate, pressing firmly at the top and then swiping all three fingers downward. Then I repeated the motion. With each swipe, his entire body shook.

  "Okay, now go lie flat on your stomach and put your cock between your legs so I can see it," I instructed.

  Ricky followed my lead and flattened down on the bed, pushing his big bull balls and bloated cock behind him. The glossy pink tip of his glans peeked out from his foreskin. He was so hard that he seemed to struggle to force his shaft down against the mattress.

  Long ropes of crystal pre-cum were leaking from his wide slit. I wanted to make it flow faster, so I reached my fingers inside and pushed harder on his fun button. Another long rope of pre-cum pulsed out of him.

  "I don't know how much more I can take before I come," Ricky said. "When are you going to fuck me?"

  "I am fucking you, Ricky. Can't you feel that?" I twirled my fingers inside him and then pressed down in the center. He reacted with a loud, frustrated moan.

  "Yes, and it feels great, but what about your cock? I want your cock inside me!"

  I smiled devilishly. "Oh, well, I can't stick my big cock in you without some kind of lubrication, Ricky."

  He looked over his shoulder and asked, "What about the baby oil that you used on Lenny?"

  "Nah. If you want me to fuck you, you're going to have to make your own lubricant."

  "What do you mean?"

  Ricky didn't understand, but soon he would. I began working his hole with a feverish pace. His moans grew louder until he was practically screaming. I could see his cock twitching in response to my wicked persistence.

  "Charles... Oh, fuck, Charles... Right there... Right there... It feels so..." A breathy sigh. "Sooo fucking good..."

  His whole body tensed and tightened, then I felt his prostate gland harden against my fingers. Three quick shots of cum exploded from the shiny head of his cock onto the bed. I continued to stroke his tortured prostate until I'd forced out a couple more thick wads of milky white.

  "Now I'm really going to fuck you, Ricky." I scooped up a hearty palm-full of his cum and slathered the hot, bubbly fluid all over my cock. "Turn over."

  Ricky flipped onto his back with a look of dreamy afterglow on his face. "I don't know if I can take it," he said. "I'm really sensitive after I come."

  "So you don't want me to fuck you now?" I asked.

  A gluttonous smile spread across his mug. "Oh, I do, sir. I want all of you."

  "Good." I settled onto the bed and spread his legs for easier access. "Just take a deep breath. I'm going to fuck you with your own cum."

  We breathed together as I pressed myself into his spent hole. The air was thick with the bleachy fragrance of his homemade lube and the spicy sweat of our bodies.

  I glided past his tight entrance with my cum-coated cock. The sensation of his sticky wet release combining with the soft, moist inner walls of his body felt so incredible, it was like slipping into a dream.

  "You feel so good, Ricky," I moaned. "I'm going to fuck you full of my cum. Then our cum will be merged together inside you."

  "Oh, yes," he said, craning his neck forward so his face was close to mine.

  At first, I didn't recognize the gesture. It was so foreign to me. But as his lips found their way to mine, it suddenly seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

  Timid at first, our mouths merged into a kiss. Then I sunk deeper inside as I pushed forward with my hips, and our bodies connected as one force.

  Our tongues twirled and teased, then I burrowed further into his mouth, enjoying the sweetness of his breath. I couldn't get enough of him. Tasting him, feeling him, thrusting myself inside of his soft vortex. None of it felt like enough. I wanted to somehow merge my soul with his so we could share this intensity together.

  Once again, I experienced a warm, fluttery feeling in my chest. Was this love? I wondered; that unfamiliar emotion I'd tried to hold at bay. I didn't know Ricky, so how could I love him?

  But I wanted to know him. Everything about him. I wondered if the heart simply wants what it wants, with no burden of logic. After all, it's not the heart's job to be logical.

  An electric current flowed between us, with our bodies mashed together, my hips jutting as I pummeled him. My heavy balls were stirring, an orgasm rumbling. It was heightened by the sudden onset of emotions I felt, ones I couldn't make sense of.

  My breath quickened between our labored kisses. Ricky grabbed hold of my ass, digging his fingers into my flesh. His eyes were clenched shut.

  "Look at me," I whispered.

  His lids lifted and he stared into me. That vast golden brown terrain that filled his irises was almost too much, but I maintained eye contact, searching beyond the surface for somewhere deeper.

  There was nothing to fear. I pulled him tighter against me, wrapping my arms around the solid sheet of muscle and bone that supported his back.

  Hot liquid cum began burning the crest, ready to erupt out of me. My cock stiffened as I blew the first
load inside his wet hole. I continued to thrust, pushing out another thick load, merging our semen together. Then came a third and fourth burst of white gold before I finally felt drained.

  As we settled into the groggy aftermath, I kissed Ricky's lips, then his cheek, and ever so affectionately kisses him on the forehead. He started to pull away, freeing our sweaty skin from its tight lock. But I clung to him, holding my arms around him in a tight embrace.

  "Just a minute," I said. "We need to talk about something."

  Chapter 4

  Ricky's face was filled with reluctance. "What's on your mind?"

  I was reluctant too. Talking before sex was easy. All roads led to the same destination. It was simple. Uncomplicated. Talking after sex opened a door to endless possibilities. I released him from my arms and tried to squeeze into the tight space beside him.

  "Here, let me make some room for you." He shuffled around in the bed, distancing himself from me with an invisible wall as I settled onto my back.

  "Come closer." I put my arm over his shoulder and pulled him against me. Just moments before, we'd been kissing and clinging to each other. Now he was acting like a fidgety kitten that didn't want to be held. "I want to talk about my jealous outburst earlier. You know, with Lenny."

  "Oh, that." His whole body seemed to freeze into a block of ice. "We don't need to talk about that."

  "But I want to. I know I acted like we were... You know, together."

  "But we're not together," he confirmed.

  The bluntness of his words hit like a hammer to my heart. I tried to smile through the pain. Tried to reason with him. "Look, let's both cut the tough guy act."

  "We're men. We're supposed to be tough," he said sharply. "When I'm on duty, I have to guard myself twenty-four-seven. Always choosing my words carefully, always keeping my body stiff, always keeping my eyes on the ground. I can't let any slip-up give away my secret."

  "Ricky, I have to be on guard too. How do you think the guys down at the docks would treat me if they ever knew?"

  "Then why are you acting like we're a couple?" He stood up from the bed. I watched as his magnificent body glided toward the door to collect his towel. He was covered in the sticky remnants of our passion, and a perverse part of me didn't want him to wipe it off. The white crust that clung to the curls of his pubic hair seemed sacred.