All My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes - 8. Chapter 8 Rikk’s

How long had it been?

Carey checked his phone and yawned. Just over six hours in the library. The building shook periodically as a mid-summer thunder storm raged outside. He’d been cramming away since three o’clock. His brain was mush but it had been worth it. A twenty-five page paper for his History course pretty much put to bed. He’d gone over notes for tomorrow’s Poly Sci mid-term three times. Enough was enough.

As he waited for the thunder storm to abate, Carey slouched into a nearby lounge chair and closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, he saw the latest edition of the school newspaper lying on the coffee table in front of him. Picking it up, he knew better than to even glance at that inside back page. He didn’t want to know what movies were playing at The Palace.

Scanning the sports page articles about the prospects for football and other fall sports, he spotted an ad for an adult male club. He tried to concentrate on the football article but he couldn’t help it. His eyes kept returning to study the ad more carefully. The club was called Rikk’s, the ad dominated by a picture of a bare chested blond hunk. It boasted “Live Male Dancing” and “All Nude.”

Carey slapped the newspaper shut, folded it, and threw it back on the table. Squeezing his eyes shut, he mentally slapped himself in the face. Gathering his books up, he dropped them into his book bag and headed out. But, just as he was leaving the library, on impulse, he grabbed another copy of the newspaper from a stack near the door and tucked it under his arm.

On the way back to the frat house, Carey stopped at a sub shop to pick up a sandwich. As he was standing in line to place his order, he got a Kik notification from, who else, but DingDing69? Carey huffed. No way! He picked the wrapped sub off the counter and headed out the door, just as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Of course, it was Bell, this time sending him a text.

“Hey!”

Carey decided to respond, “Hay is for horses.”

“Talk?”

Carey pondered that question. His feelings ranged from anger to ambivalence. What, if anything, could be accomplished by having a conversation with…what kind of word would he use to describe Bell? Prick? Turd? Little shit? With a sigh, he decided to find out.

“Ok.”

The phone rang instantly.

“Hey!”

“I’m impressed with your broad vocabulary,” Carey responded with sarcasm.

“So how’s your summer?” Bell asked in that signature Maine family rasp.

“Summer school.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“What about you?”

“This ‘n that. We just got back from Tybee Island.”

“Where’s that?”

“Georgia. Near Savannah. It was Gucci good.”

“Ya know, you pretty much fucked me over,” Carey responded, changing the subject. He wanted to get that off his chest.

“Awww, well. I sorta didn’t have a choice in that.”

“You didn’t?! What the hell?! You could have kept your mouth shut.”

“Harper has a way of kind of sniffing things out. She cornered me before you guys even left. I didn’t tell her then but she eventually got the lid off the bottle.”

Carey smirked. He waited for an apology. None was forthcoming.

“So, how is she?” He finally responded in a soft voice.

“On the rebound. She was in Europe for school last semester.”

“Nice.”

“And my dad bought her a new Mazda Miata when she got back.”

Carey chuckled.

“Hope there’s enough trunk space for her laundry.”

“So, anything good going on for you?” Bell answered, apparently not getting the joke.

Carey thought about his Toyota Corolla and how that compared to Harper’s new ride.

“Work’n hard and keeping my head down.”

“That sounds boring.”

“You?”

“Well, I cut Tommie loose.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Carey responded sarcastically.

“Ya well,” Bell chuckled. “I got replaced by the oblong ball,” he continued, referring to football. “And, that’s in spite of the fact that I got two of ‘em.”

Carey smirked.

“Well, hey, I gotta get going.” Carey saw no reason to continue this conversation.

“Say, I was wondering,” Bell continued. “You wanna hook up sometime?”

“I don’t think so. Not right now.” Carey wondered why he had responded in that way. Why not a simple, “no?” Visions of Bell played through his mind.

“So, how’s your love life?”

“Like you even care!” Carey searched his mind, trying to stay calm. “How’s yours?”

“Well, I met a cute guy on Tybee,” Bell responded.

“I’m happy for you!” Carey blurted in a sharp tone.

“Wanna hear about him?” Bell teased.

“No I don’t! Gotta go!” Carey said in retort. “Bye!” He let the word kind of sing out as he clicked off the call. He just shook his head.

That night as he lay in his room sweating in his underwear, the ad came back into his consciousness. He stood up to retrieve the newspaper from the waste basket where he’d thrown it when he got back to his room.

Flopping back down on the bed, he studied the ad more carefully. Much as Carey resisted it, he could feel a stiffening in his shorts. Pulling his underwear down, he wrapped his fingers around his now stiff cock and closed his eyes. “Live Male.” “All Nude.” Words burning in his brain. He pulled hard in between caressing the head of his cock. In short order, he clenched his stomach, gasped, and orgasmed hard. It seemed like weeks since he’d last cum except that it hadn’t been even a week.

Throughout the next day, Friday, Carey had trouble concentrating. He steeled himself for the mid-term, breathing a sigh of relief once it was over. That night, after a microwaved Mac and Cheese dinner that he barely ate, Carey ventured out.

Rikk’s was located on another dark street in the same part of town as The Palace. Rather than a brightly lit entrance, Rikk’s was a relatively narrow storefront with a glass block window spanning its width. The door was solid wood, painted black. It looked as if it had been kicked in and patched with scrap wood and more black paint.

When he pulled the door open, he was greeted by a very large bald headed man with a nasty look on his face, sitting on a stool. He wore a tight black t-shirt with the word “Security” on the front, making the muscles in his arms and chest look even bigger and his demeanor even more menacing. A sign next to the box office declared, “No Alcohol, Drugs, or Weapons Allowed!”

The box office was behind a small window with iron bars across the front. He could barely see the cashier, an older man, who immediately asked for I.D.

Once Carey’s age was determined, he was told the price of admittance and given one simple instruction.

“Look! Don’t touch!”

The man pointed to the right with one finger at another black door.

Loud music. Dim lights in contrast to two disco lights that sparkled as they rotated around the room. The club consisted of a large open room with a generously high ceiling. A bar occupied a back corner. Tall round standing tables were sprinkled around the room. A go-go dancer cage was located on each side. A small elevated stage about ten feet square was to his immediate left as Carey entered.

Patrons held and sipped from what looked like soft drinks. The place obviously didn’t have a liquor license. Several naked men circulated through the crowd. Some tall, some short. Beefy, slender, smooth, hairy. A variety of shapes and sizes. Some were pretty young looking. Others looked like they were in their late thirties or even forty. Most of them had short, neat haircuts. A couple had buzz cuts. One guy had one side buzzed with really long hair at the part combed over to the other side. Each one of them wore sandals or light weight shoes. The men all had one thing in common: large cocks. Swaying and bobbing, flaccid, some cut, others not, a few with a healthy patch of pubic hair, most shaved smooth. Some of the men just walked around. A couple of them were engaged in conversations with one or more people.

Each go-go dancer cage was occupied by a nude dancer gyrating to the sound of the music. The dancers swung their hips in such a way as to make their cocks and balls bob and jiggle. Periodically, they would turn around, shake their butts, and bend over, spreading their ass cheeks. Small groups of men stood nearby each cage observing the action.

As Carey’s eyes roamed around the room, he didn’t see one guy who was even close to his age. Most were much older. Beards, mustaches, and goatees predominated. A lot of them were anywhere from heavy to obscenely obese. One of them brushed by him as he boldly cupped Carey’s crotch. Instinctively, he pulled back.

The man, a burly guy with a scruff, laughed as he passed by.

“Woo ha!”

He laughed in a screechy voice.

A tall man, naked, approached Carey with an offer to go to a private room.

“Fifty bucks for some fun!” He said cheerily.

Carey declined. Shortly thereafter, another guy, same offer, same response.

A couple of women were interspersed throughout the crowd. Two heavy set women stood with elbows on a table, giggling and tittering almost non-stop. A more significant group of ten to fifteen girls, probably in their twenties, stood huddled in a corner like scared rabbits. One girl wore a tiara emblazoned with “Bride” in glittery letters. Bachelorette party.

Carey was more than turned off by the the whole scene. Feeling remorseful and disgusted in himself, he prepared to leave the club.

Just then, the music stopped and an emcee’s booming voice came across the sound system. He promoted upcoming events followed by a few other announcements.

Then he yelled, “And now! For our next featured act, a new comer, and I do mean a new cummer,” he said with added emphasis, “to the Rikk’s stage! Let’s welcome…Apollo!”

There was a smattering of applause and a “woot!”

Carey’s jaw dropped.

Apollo’s appearance was basically unchanged. Long straggly dirty blond hair over his ears and covering most of his face. Pale skinny body. The farmer’s tan was gone. He didn’t look as emaciated as before. In fact, his skin tone looked healthier, more of a light ivory instead of sickly gray. He was still pretty much hairless. Carey guessed right away that he probably shaved his pubes, at least. His cock, that sweet cock, still the color of turkey sausage, hung in front of him. If anything, it looked thicker,

Apollo didn’t smile. He still had that same wise ass expression on his face. As he shook his head, it looked to Carey as if he had added a diamond stud in one ear. Naked, the only thing he wore was a small shell necklace.

Dancing? If you could call it that, was uninspired, to say the least. Apollo had some moves but most of it consisted of waving his hips back and forth to make his cock and balls swing and bob around. Every now and then he turned his back to the audience, stuck his ass out a bit, and turned his head back to wink at the audience.

Carey’s eyes were locked on Apollo. He was more stunned than anything else. Certainly not aroused. When he glanced to either side, a lot of the conversation had stopped and people were just watching. The eyes of the girls in the corner were all riveted on Apollo. Every so often, one girl would put her hand over her mouth and whisper to the girl next to her.

Apollo performed for three songs.

At the end of the last song, the emcee came back on and yelled, “let’s give it up for…Apo-ll-o-o-!” As he dragged out the end of his name. There was a smattering of applause. Carey smiled to himself. The girls in the corner clapped the loudest.

After he left the stage, Carey looked around to see if there was some kind of stage door that Apollo might be coming through. He was still craning his neck to look around when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to look.

It was him.

Apollo jerked the hair out of his eyes as he looked at Carey with his usual head tilt and that wise ass look on his face. But, there was actually a slight smile on that face.

“Dude!” He said.

Carey smiled in surprise. They shook hands and did a shoulder bump.

It was then that Carey realized Apollo was still naked except for white athletic shoes he must have put on when he got off the stage.

Awkwardly, Carey said, “It’s you.”

Apollo just smirked.

“How did you know I was here?” Carey asked.

“I saw you.”

“You saw me from the stage?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Apollo looked around and smirked again.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Carey blushed.

“I mean,” he stammered, “How long have you been working here?”

“I dunno…a few weeks, I guess.”

“And before that?”

“This ‘n that.” A short pause. “Hey…school. How’s that going for you?”

“Ah...it’s all right. I stayed for summer school.”

As he spoke, Carey’s eyes quickly surveyed Apollo’s body. As provocative looking as he was when they first met, he was even sexier now. Thin, but not as scrawny looking. There was an actual contour to his chest. It helped create a sensuous curve from his skinny waist to his hips. His nipples were still pale pink and looked hard, perhaps from the cool air in the club. Light hairs on his stomach. A hint of a treasure trail from his belly button into his crotch. His limp cock jiggled slightly when he moved from hip to hip. There was, indeed, a small diamond earring in his right ear.

“How did you end up here?” Carey asked.

“Management recognized I got some real talent,” Apollo chuckled.

“Where are you living?”

“Here ‘n there.”

“Are you still homeless?”

“Technically?” A pause as he looked to the side. “I got lots of places I can crash. Hey! I’m makin’ enough money now to afford a place.”

Carey searched Apollo’s squinty eyes for the truth.

“Your dad came to my house looking for you.”

Apollo’s smirked. “He was lookin’ for his cash cow.” Shaking his head. “What a fuckin’ prick.”

“So you’re not with either your mom or dad?”

“Nope. Been on my own since.”

“So, now you’re working in a nude dance club?”

Apollo’s just shrugged.

“Why here? “Why’d you come here?”

Apollo shrugged again. “I hung around back there for awhile.” Pause. “Went to your house…”

Stunned, Carey looked at him. His parents had never said anything.

“Your mom answered the door. Told me you’d left to come here for school. So, I said to myself, ‘Why not?’”

“You came here because I was here?”

Carey searched Apollo’s eyes for answers.

Apollo just looked at him. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then, with a small smile he said quietly, “So…here we are.”

“I don’t get it. Why?”

“I dunno.”

He looked off to the side again, squinting into the disco lights.

“I thought you were…nice.”

Carey brought his hand up and brushed it up against Apollo’s arm.

“I thought you were nice, too.” Practically whispering, “I still think you’re nice.”

Glancing to the side, he saw a security guard giving him a hard stare. Apollo saw the security guard, too.

Turning to look into Carey’s eyes, “Um, you’re not supposed to touch the dancers, dude.”

When Carey looked down, slightly embarrassed, he noticed Apollo’s cock at half mast. It was thick. The head was positively alluring.

Neither one of them had noticed the two girls who had been standing nearby whispering to each other. They looked to be around college age. Ignoring Carey, they approached Apollo.

“Um,” one of them said shyly. “Would you want to do a private room with us?”

The girls’ eyes roved up and down Apollo’s body.

“Sure.” Turning to Carey. “Duty calls.”

“Wait!” Carey said. “When are you off?”

“Not until eleven.”

“Do you want to meet up?”

Apollo looked at him for a second.

“Ok.”

Carey was about ask, where, but Apollo had already turned to lead the two girls to one of the private rooms off the dance floor.

Over his shoulder, Apollo yelled over the music, “Leave your address at the box office.”

Carey stared at Apollo’s cute butt as he walked away with the girls. His own cock fully erect, pushing against the front of his pants.

He was ready to be done with Rikk’s. As he turned to head toward the exit, he looked over to see a man standing against the wall. It was the same man who had been at The Palace. Same long black coat. Zorro hat covering most of his face. Thin black mustache. Creepy, Carey thought.

He ducked through the crowd of men and giggling girls who were now enjoying the latest dancer to grace the main stage. Exiting the room, he went to the box office. The same bouncer sat on the stool by the entrance, the same nasty look on his face. Trying to ignore him, Carey turned to the cashier and asked for a piece of paper and a pen. He was handed the torn corner of an envelope and the stub of a pencil.

He quickly scribbled his address on the paper. Handing it back to the cashier, he asked, “Will you give this to Apollo?”

The bouncer smirked, nodded his head, and held the door open for Carey.