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    Rip Skor
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Boy Story: Go North Young Man - 5. Sunday, Sunday

Sunday, Sunday

 

 

 

The next day was Sunday and would be our last full day and night in Montreal as we planned to head home Monday after hotel checkout. One of the things that most of our group liked to do when in Montreal was to see some local music at one of the live music venues around the city. One of our favorites was called Les Foufounes Électriques (which loosely translates to Electric Buttocks) or just Électriques for short. From the outside the club looks a little like a fun house from an amusement park…although in need of some refurbishment. On Sunday night, a Montreal band that we had seen before and really liked was playing at Électriques, so that was on the agenda.

I was hoping we would have some time to return to Club David after seeing the band. Shawn was now constantly on my mind because we kind of had sex the night before, didn’t we? I couldn’t imagine he gave all his customers the same attention. But he was a stripper, so are the rules different? I was still trying to process the goings on of the previous night, but I decided to just live in the moment and worry about processing it later.

There were four people from our group who went to Électriques that night. After the music venue, we took the subway a few stops and ended up entering Club David at around 12:40 am. We found a table for four straight back from center stage against the back wall. We sat down and were immediately descended upon by a waiter eager to take our drink order. Once we ordered up a round of beers, Bob joked to me, “Hey, there’s your boyfriend.” I turned to look and Shawn was standing back near the bar eating a bag of potato chips. I laughed to myself at the sight. Here was this innocent-looking blond boy without a care in the world eating a snack surrounded by a roomful of guys with a single desire…and Shawn was the guest of honor.

I said to my friends, “I’ll be right back.” As I approached Shawn, his face lit up. He looked at his hands all covered with oil from the chips and nervously said, “Wait here, I’ll be right back!” He disappeared out back to wash his hands. He reappeared a minute later wiping his hands with a paper towel. He threw the towel in a nearby trash barrel and jogged up to me and gave me a big hug. I hugged him back of course. “I didn’t want to get you all greasy,” he said explaining his quick exit.

“I know, thank you,” I replied.

It was difficult to hold a conversation with the music blasting for the current dancer. I did manage to get through that this was my last night in Montreal and I wanted to buy a dance.

“Sure, but I have to do something first,” he informed me.

I shook my head in the affirmative to indicate I understood. I pointed to where I was sitting and returned to my seat.

“What? Are you not getting a dance?” Bob asked.

“Yeah, but I think he might be going on stage soon,” I guessed. “Aren’t you going to buy a dance?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t you think he’s cute?” I asked.

“Oh, sure. But he looks too young and cream cheese for me. I’m old enough to be his father. It wouldn’t feel right. Plus, I’m more into ethnic types, like that Asian guy over there. I might hit him up.”

The dancer on stage finished his dance and we all clapped. Then came a barrage of French words. He was explaining something and all the dancers got on stage and lined up. Then some more dialogue in French and a song came over the sound system. The dancers left the stage and went into the back room. Then they all came out carrying dance pedestals. Shawn parked his pedestal in front of me. He saw I was confused and leaned over to say, “Don’t worry, this isn’t your dance. It’s just something new we do at 1:00.”

Apparently, each dancer picks a member of the audience and does a free dance in front of that person while all the rest of the audience looks on. The dance I received was hot and Shawn got completely nude, but it was totally above board. I don’t know, but I got a sudden urge to cover him up and whisk him away to safety. Of course, I didn’t want to be expelled forever and have Shawn think I was some kind of psycho, so I just sat in my seat admiring Shawn and looked around at everyone else admiring Shawn. I noticed my whole table with their eyes glued to Shawn’s cock and balls. It would seem to me that, universally, Shawn had the most sets of eyes on him, so if there was a point to this exercise, Shawn won.

The dance ended, the emcee started speaking in French, and everyone clapped. The dancers were introduced individually and each one took a bow in appreciation. Shawn received the loudest ovation. I was pleased to know that I had him next. He put his clothes back on: sweat pants with snaps down the side, a solid blue tank top, and spandex briefs with an interesting pattern and interesting bulges from within.

“Ready?” he asked looking at me.

“For you…I’m always ready,” I announced.

He was now holding the dance pedestal from the public dance he just performed. We passed by the same guy in the doorway and went to our usual corner. I had decided earlier that I would ask for two dances up front and permission to blow him. However, I thought better of it. If he lost his job because I pressured him for a bj at work, I would feel horrible. The good thing is that this time I knew the score going into it.

Shawn positioned the pedestal in front of me and stepped up on it. He began dancing and periodically removing clothing. Eventually, he brought his flaccid boy bit and touched it to my lips. I knew my cue and immediately took it in and began working on it. Again, I felt it growing in my mouth. The more he grew, the more I had to work with. This time I dared to use my hand as well. Shawn pushed it away saying, “No, you’ll get me off. It will make a mess.”

“Oh, right,” I thought. “It will be impossible to be inconspicuous if we are doing things and it gets messy.”

I slid my mouth down to his scrotum and began working over his large grape-sized ovals. I caught Shawn moaning a couple of times. I moved my mouth back onto the shaft. He withdrew almost immediately. He had a look on his face like he was about to let go. I pulled back to get a good look at his stiff cut cock again as it stood at full attention before me. What a perfect specimen!

He spun around once again offering up his small, round, luscious ass. I ran my hands over his smooth mounds and spread his checks to get a look at his little pink pucker. There it was all closed for business, but I planned to change that. I teased the rim of his hole with my tongue, which tickled him at first as he wriggled. I applied more pressure and spit all over the outside which allowed me to slide my tongue inside. I started to work my tongue in and out of that little hole. Of course, a dancer bent over with a client’s face buried in his ass was an obvious indicator of illicit behavior, so we couldn’t stay that way for long. Then the song ended and so did my dance.

At this point, I couldn’t buy another dance. I had one free one that was fully legal and a second one that sent shivers up my spine. The dances were a nice introduction, but now indoctrinated, I needed to go to the next level. But is there one? I handed him a $10 bill and told him to keep the change.

“Shawn, I want to give you this,” I handed him a folded piece of paper. “This is my name and phone number in case you want to come to Boston and go to the beaches. I even
know where there is a nude beach.”

He took the piece of paper and slid it in his pocket. “Oh thanks. I might want to do that this summer,” he enthused.

“Anytime, my friend,” I replied.

“Except winter, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’d be happy going to the beach in the winter,” I informed him.

We left the back room and returned to the main area. My friends noticed my return and started to get ready to leave.

“I guess we’re leaving. I hope to see you again sometime soon, Shawn,” I stated turning toward him.

He gave me a hug and stood on his tip-toes to kiss me full on the mouth. He didn’t seem to mind that I slipped him the tongue as he pressed his against mine. Our lips parted, I gave him another hug and then strode off to catch up to my group. As we walked back to the B&B, I savored that kiss by repeatedly licking my lips. He was simply the cutest boy
I’d ever messed around with. This left me wanting more…but as the Rolling Stones sing, You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

We left for home the next day at around 11:00 after breakfast. Since I wasn’t driving, I had a few hours to finally process the events of the weekend…well, the events specific
to Shawn.

 

 

 

 

©Copyright 2017 Rip Skor; All Rights Reserved
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Long distance... what exactly...? Simply longing? Not exactly the easiest way to get to know someone, meeting up once or twice a year. The internet has its advantages. 

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This story takes place in the 1990s, so no Facebook or other social network sites to make it easy to meet. Even email would have been unlikely unless Shawn had access at a university, for example. I think our boys will just have to get together in Boston and see what happens! 

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What a disappointment. Having a connection to someone so far. I remember meeting Pierre. A French boy I met backpacking in Europe. We had 5 magical days with instant chemistry. Different continents and starting college, no chance. Hope different for these two.

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It really is awful when geography comes between two people who seem to have the hots for one another and not the proximity to let it play out.

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