If there was one thing that was constant in an ever changing world, it was Leather Night at Babylon. A parade of freaks, geeks and fairies, parading their best cow suits to their buddies, wearing clothes they wouldn’t be seen dead in normally; and glad to get the chance.
Leather Night was the night of rest. Oh, we still went out - unless something disastrous happened like an influx of Italian tourists or a death in the family. But Leather Night was the one night that even Stuart refused to cop off. Seeing all that gorgeous and not so gorgeous flesh so ridiculously clad like gay icons of the 70’s made him laugh, normally.
Then he happened.
Vince leaned against a railing, his eyes drifting across the crowd below. He’d lost sight of Stuart half an hour ago; Phil was chatting animatedly to some bloke he’d been to school with. And there he was. Big than life, long wavy dark hair, fittingly attired in skin tight black leather vest and trousers, pretending that every eye in the place wasn’t fixed on him. He leant with his back to the bar, elbows resting lightly on the sticky surface to tauten the muscles of that broad, hairy chest. He swayed slightly in time to the music as he arrogantly scanned the crowded dance floor. His lips were slightly curled at the antics of the regulars dancing up a storm to the Village People’s ‘YMCA’.
Fixing on that unbelievable body, Vince almost missed the figure just beyond him, hidden in the shadow of his friend. He was slightly shorter, tight brown pants his only concession to Leather Night, and his white shirt probably the result of a hasty work-to-play transition. He eyed the parade of flesh passing under his nose dubiously. It wasn’t the sneer of a morally superior straight guy but that of a country cousin who’d never seen the gay scene at its most flamboyant. If he thought this was outrageous, wait til he saw Mardi Gras week.
Stuart was back and following the direction of his friend’s gaze to see what held his attention. "Fuck, that’s one hell of shag."
"Tasty, eh?" said Vince.
Stuart didn’t answer. He glanced towards the dance floor as the music morphed into the dance beat of "Finally". A slow, wicked smile transformed his face. "Come and dance, Vince."
"What, to this?"
Stuart gave him the look and he followed meekly, complaining all the way. He didn’t often get Stuart to himself and odds were he’d be on his own before two songs were over, but he’d learned to make the most of his chances.
True enough, two songs later, Stuart had edged them closer to the bar against which the two dark haired men stood. With his back to the bar, Vince couldn’t see what kind of reception Stuart’s lascivious glances were getting until a tall figure stepped between him and his mate, effectively cutting him off. Vince took a few steps backwards, not really surprised. Some things were as inevitable as death and taxes. "Bastard," he said admiringly.
"He’s like that," said a voice behind him, apologetically.
He turned to face the shorter man he’d noticed before and found himself looking up. Out from his friend’s shadow, he wasn’t short at all, powerfully built with copper-tinged hair that brushed his shoulders.
"Yeah, well, I don’t suppose Stuart wants me to rescue him anyway. I’m Vince, by the way." He offered his hand and they shook.
"Iph," replied the other guy. "Do you want a drink? I don’t think they’re coming back any time soon."
Vince stared, surprised by the invitation. "Yeah, sure thing, mate."
Iph caught the bartender’s attention and signalled for two halves. When the beer arrived, he paid, smiled his thanks to the blonde youth and handed it to Vince.
"First time in Babylon ?" asked Vince as he took the glass.
Iph smiled. "Does it show?"
"Only when you cringe at some of the ladies walking past." He sipped his beer, tracking Stuart’s progress towards the toilets. Apparently even with a guy that good looking, nobody was getting taken back to Stuart’s warehouse flat from Leather Night.
‘It’s not quite this …open where I come from." One of the campier queens minced past and Iph’s head swivelled as he took in the view. "It’s … an eyeopener."
"If you’re gonna be that obvious about it, one of ‘em’s going to think you’re interested," said Vince dryly. "You could get lucky."
"I might," said Iph. He turned and placed his beer carefully on the bar. "But not with them." He leaned forward and kissed Vince lightly on the mouth and then cocked his head to one side, gauging his response.
Vince was gobsmacked. He gaped at Iph, wondering why this gorgeous guy wanted him. Me, he wondered. I don’t know what this guy’s on but it’s time to make the most of it. With unusual decisiveness, he slammed his beer down on the bar, not caring whether it landed safely or not. He grabbed Iph by the wrist and navigated their way across the club to the toilets. God, let there be a cubicle free, he prayed.
There wasn’t. Some things never change and Vince’s crappy luck was one of them. He stood there at a loss, not know what to do. Chances were the guy would change his mind before they had a chance at some privacy. A hand seized from behind and pushed him roughly against the wall. His back was hard up against the sign that said ‘No shagging in the toilets’ and a diatribe against the evils of BBC programming as Iph held him against the cold wall and kissed him fiercely. His hands groped for Vince’s erection through his jeans, tracing the hard outline, stroking, then jerking.
Vince moaned deep in his throat. The guy was sucking the life out of him and in another 30 seconds he was sure to blow. He fumbled for the fastenings of Iph’s trousers then gave up and pushed his hand inside from the waistband and encircled his hard cock. Fuck, he was big. No wonder he was hanging round with leather-guy.
He was just about to blow from the expert hand on his cock when he heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like Stuart groaning. Pushing Iph’s weight off him, a not inconsiderable feat, he lifted his finger to his lips to motion for silence and then mimed listening to his puzzled partner.
"Oh yeah, that’s good. Oh fuck, yeah, right there." It was Stuart all right. He certainly didn’t waste any time, reflected Vince. He’d never heard Stuart while he was shagging before. He could hear the grunts of the guy Stuart had picked up. If the intensity of noise was any indication, Stuart was having the shag of his life in there. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh were barely audible under Stuart’s moans and deeper-pitched groans of the guy fucking him.
Vince’s shoulders shook as he tried not to giggle out loud. For once, he wasn’t outside, wondering what it would be like to shag Stuart. He could hear for himself, while a fantastic looking bloke stroked his cock.
A toilet door slammed open next to the one he suspected was occupied by Stuart, and two glassy-eyed men stumbled out, reeking of sex and sweat. He was in there in a flash, Iph following more slowly. Locking the door, he realised once again just how big his partner was, his bulk making the confines of the cubicle seem even smaller. Vince kissed him again, reaching into his jeans’ pocket for a condom. He’d learned many years ago not to rely on the crap they stocked in the vending machines. Iph had unlaced his trousers and his hard cock swelled even more as Vince carefully rolled the condom over the taut flesh. He was uncut, Vince noted in passing.
"Fuck me," he whispered, turning towards the wall that separated him from Stuart. He undid his jeans with trembling fingers and laid his cheek against the cold stone wall. Iph placed the head of his cock against Vince’s arse and pushed in slowly. Vince could feel that big, hard cock gliding inside him, moving at a maddening pace until it was buried completely in him. His own cock was pressed against the toilet wall, the chill removing the need to blow immediately. Iph fucked him slowly, one hand guiding his cock in and out, the other on the back on Vince’s neck possessively.
Vince whimpered at the feeling of that cock, knowing Stuart was only a few feet away, hearing his whimpers as he too was fucked. His hands clenched and released, and he couldn’t help begging for more, he had to have more, he needed it harder and faster, he had to be fucked.
A muffled noise above his head made him look up. Stuart, his face flushed with sex, was standing on the toilet next door and peering over the wall to watch Iph do his friend. He smiled at the sight of Vince getting thoroughly fucked, but there was a hint of a darker emotion there too.
"Well, if it isn’t Vince Tyler, taking it up the arse." Stuart’s eyes assessed Iph speculatively and his next comment was directed at him. "He’s a lucky man tonight." Iph groaned and pumped harder, biting his lip and thrusting harder, spasmodically as he came in Vince’s arse.
Vince came too, staring at Stuart, harder enough to see stars. For few moments he thought he’d black out, then he had himself under control again, panting and twitching at the intensity of the experience.
Fuck, what a shag reflected Vince as he left the toilet, cleaned up and tucked in. He admired Iph’s arse from the rear as he joined his friend at the bar, and Vince made his way to the balcony that was their favourite perving spot in Babylon. He could see Stuart, Phil and a couple of other guys he knew, ready for a drink and a joke and maybe a spot of bragging.
Maybe they’d have to reconsider this whole Leather Night shag-ban.