“Aw, fuck yeah, baby,” Perceur gloated. “That’s right, come on me! Empty it all out of your big, fat dick, bust your balls! Come all over me!”
Luc did! By the time he’d finished ejaculating inside Perceur’s fist, he’d coated his cellmate’s hairy, tattooed chest with a dozen little rivulets of wet, dripping cum. But even then, Luc refused to let Perceur go. He tightened his anal muscles around the big man’s big cock when he felt the depleted fuck tool start to slide out of him.
“No,” Luc insisted. “Stay inside me. Keep your cock in my ass. Don’t pull out yet. I still want to feel it in me, in my ass! Fuck me, you big, ugly motherfucker! Oh, fuck me some more! Goddamn you! I hate your guts. But I love the way your big, hard cock feels in my ass!”
Perceur grinned, and he leaned forward to kiss Luc long and hard on the mouth, slipping him his tongue.
“Don’t you worry, baby.” Perceur promised. “From now on, for as long as you’re in here with me, you’re going to be feeling that dick of mine up your ass every night!”
Chapter Three: Strip Club
There were a few blocks downtown in Cherbourg, near the waterfront, which were notorious for their dives—bars, strip clubs, and other disreputable hangouts. The area was also well known as a gay cruising spot.
Luc decided to try his luck there. He’d pick up some guy, and if Luc came up with a convincing enough sob story, the guy might befriend him, and treat him to a meal. Maybe Luc would even end up with a place to stay, overnight. Or they might skip the pretense of a budding romance, and just exchange money for sex.
It was still early, only a couple of hours after sunset, but there was a great deal of pedestrian traffic—most of it male, as local men, sailors who were temporarily in port, and tourists all went in search of entertainment.
Luc joined the crowd and strutted along proudly, his hard-muscled young body provocatively on display in his tight jeans and equally snug-fitting tank top, the latter baring his shoulders and arms, but also revealing the fact that he possessed a big, hard pair of pecs and a set of tight-packed abdominal muscles. The jeans, too, showed off his firm butt and his cock, which was stuffed down one leg of the pants. He was now carrying his long-sleeved linen shirt in his hand, as though it was a jacket which it was too warm tonight for him to wear.
“Hey, man—where you going?” a rough-sounding voice called out, jeeringly. Then an equally rough hand grasped Luc’s elbow from behind. Luc turned and looked at the guy—or rather, the guys. There were three of them, all sailors in uniform, all ugly, and all drunk. They leered at Luc as they closed in around him.
“Hi, good looking,” the second matelot jeered.
“You sure are one fine-looking dude,” the third sailor declared, rubbing his grimy hand over his swollen crotch. “Hey—do you like to suck cock? Shit! Of course you do. I can tell that just by looking at you.”
Luc thought he could handle it. Obnoxious guys were no novelty for him. But he automatically glanced up and down the sidewalk in search of reassurance and possible support. But the passersby studiously pretended not to notice. A couple of female hookers were watching, amused, from a nearby doorway. They’d no doubt rejected the three horny sailors as potential customers, given the fact that the drunken men were trying to get Luc to give it away for free. And Luc shared their opinion. The sailors were losers. But if they got riled, they could probably bash him, knock him down and beat and kick him right there, taking their sweet time about it, without having to worry about anybody calling the police or intervening on Luc’s behalf.
Luc wrenched himself free with a sudden, violent gesture.
“Sorry, guys, I’ve got a date,” he said, trying to sound as offhand about it as possible, and praying that his voice wouldn’t crack from fear.
Taken by surprise, the sailors were too startled for a second to react. Luc stepped away from them and calmly walked down the sidewalk to escape. They started to follow him, cursing, but then they evidently decided it wasn’t worth it, and they contented themselves with shouting insults after the fugitive.
“A date, huh? Well, give your boyfriend a good hot suck for me!” one man said.
“Yeah, and don’t forget to bend over and spread your ass for him,” the second jeered.
“Take his cock up your ass! Fuck yourself on it, you stuck-up cunt! You look like you’re used to that!” yelled the third.
Luc hurried away.
He checked out a street nearby where male prostitutes hung out, working the street. There was more than one gay bar on this block, and the hustlers took advantage of the fact by stationing themselves outdoors, trolling for tricks. Spaced out along the sidewalks at intervals, almost like soldiers on parade, they stood there, loitering, or they leaned back against the wall of the nearest building. The male whores seemed to run the gamut from baby-faced twinks to hulking, formidable looking toughs. There was something for every taste.
Luc had paused, looking for a spot for himself, when some of the hustlers in his vicinity spoke up, as raucously as the sailors had.
“Check out the fresh meat,” one guy commented.
“Fresh, my ass!” another one replied, caustically. “He looks well past his ‘sell by’ date to me!”
“Bitch,” one of the biggest and roughest looking of the men growled at Luc, “you’d better move on. This is my corner. I’m the only one who works it. Get lost, or I swear to God I’ll cut you. You want to bleed, boy?”
Nervously, Luc did move on. Fast!
Now his obvious recourse seemed to be to enter one of the bars, hoping to be picked up. But he didn’t really have any extra cash to spend on even one drink. He’d have to stall, avoiding attracting the bartenders’ attention to himself, while he cruised the paying customers.
Next to one bar was a gay strip club. Its ground floor window, overlooking the sidewalk, was covered up from the inside, so passersby couldn’t see in. A blinking red neon sign was displayed in the window. The neon tubing was bent into the shape of the outline of a stylized nude man. Also in the window, displayed on its bottom ledge, were photos of young men, all stripped to the waist or stripped down to their underwear or posing straps, along with a placard. The sign announced Hot naked men! Hot gay striptease! Nude dancers! Private lap dances available! Our exclusive XXX rated live sex shows every night!
The club’s front door was propped open. There was a tiny vestibule, its walls blocking the view of the interior from the street. Music could be heard, coming from inside. Perched on a stool in the vestibule was a bouncer, a surly looking, pumped up, massively muscled bodybuilder type. He was asking to see the ID of anyone who looked suspiciously young, and he was taking money from everyone he allowed to pass by him and go inside, depositing the cash into a lock box resting on a shelf behind him and secured to the wall by a chain and padlock.
Luc stood in front of the big man, looking hesitant. The hulking number looked him up and down.
“Okay, pretty boy,” the bouncer growled, at last. “I know I’m fascinating to look at, but don’t just stand there. Do you want to come in, or stay out? If it’s out, move along. You’re blocking the way for the paying customers.”
“Ah—I really need to get inside,” Luc said.
“Are you new here?” the muscle man asked. “First time?”
“Well, yes. I’ve never been here before.”
“No, what I meant, is this your first time working here. I thought you might be a new stripper, reporting for duty tonight. But they usually tell me, when they hire fresh meat. My mistake.”
“That’s all right.” Luc was quite flattered that the guy thought he had a good enough body to strip in front of an audience for money. “I’m just another customer. Can I go in, now?”
“There’s a twenty euro cover charge.”
“Ah, listen, big guy. I really can’t afford that. Can’t you just do me a favor and let me in?”
“Do I know you? Do I owe you a favor?”
“No, but if you make an
exception to the rules, I’d be willing to do you one.” Luc treated the bouncer to his most ingratiating and seductive smile.
“Listen, buddy. You’re cute, but you’re not so cute that you’re worth risking my job for. If you want to hook up with me outside of here sometime, fine. I’ll fuck your pretty ass, ream out your sweet little hole and make you beg for more. Otherwise, hand over the twenty euros, or get lost. No freebies.”
Luc was about to slink away, shamefaced, when another man, who’d stepped up behind him on the sidewalk, spoke.
“I’ll pay the young man’s way,” this man said. “He can be my guest.”
The bouncer shrugged. “I don’t give a damn, as long as I get the money in the till.”
Luc’s benefactor was a man in his mid-thirties, not unpleasant to look at, and wearing a rumpled suit with a loosened tie. He was probably some sort of a businessman, on his way home after working late, and in search of entertainment. He’d apparently already stopped off at a bar for a few drinks. He was visibly intoxicated—not in an extreme or obnoxious way, but just enough to make him a bit unsteady on his feet, and to put him in an exaggerated good mood.
“Thank you,” Luc said, as he watched the money changing hands.
“My pleasure,” the man in the suit replied.
Luc doubted that the guy had paid the cover charge out of the goodness of his heart. He no doubt hoped to pick up Luc, who wasn’t averse to that possibility, assuming he could get more of the man’s money transferred to his own pocket before their interaction was over.
He let the man lead him past the glowering bouncer and into the club. Its interior was small and dimly lit, with a bar against one wall, a tiny stage equipped with a stripper pole on either side, and a sound booth tucked away in the one corner. The rest of the space was taken up by small tables, and chairs. A curtained doorway led to some adjacent space.
While doing some heavy drinking, the customers who were seated at the tables, or standing in the rear of the room, opposite the stage, were gaping at the strippers, who came out to perform either individually, or in twos and threes.
“What’ll you have to drink?” Luc’s companion asked him.
“A beer, please.”
The man went to the bar, returning with the beer for Luc and a cocktail for himself. They found a table and sat down to watch the show.
The dancers didn’t do much actual stripping. They seemed not to bother to dress up in elaborate costumes. They came out on the stage in underwear, jockstraps, and posing straps, and they quickly got stark naked. The one item which seemed to be de rigueur was a tight fitting wristband, or an armband higher up on the arm, above the biceps. This was where the guys tucked the tips which the patrons gave them, for safekeeping. After gyrating on the stage, the strippers didn't confine themselves to it. They jumped down and circulated among the tables.
Observing the nude dancers as they worked the crowd, Luc took note of some good bodies, although in one or two instances the physique had to compensate for a distinct lack of male-model good looks. Tattoos and body piercings appeared to be common, as were unkempt hairstyles. These guys, Luc concluded, were kind of trashy.
“Have you been in town long?” Luc’s tablemate inquired.
“I’m from here,” Luc replied.
“Then you can’t have been working the streets and the bars for very long. Or I’d have run into you before tonight.”
Not sure just how to respond, Luc merely nodded. He was pleased, though, that the guy had immediately taken him for a hustler. That might simplify matters. Whatever I do, I mustn’t let him think he’s going to get anything from me for free, he told himself. Like that fucking bouncer said—no freebies!
The dancers, Luc noticed, didn’t hesitate to behave whorishly with the customers, approaching their tables, writhing in front of them, shoving their crotches and asses in the drinkers’ faces. The sluttier a stripper was, the more cash he ended up being given. Luc was mildly surprised to see some customers not only groping the dancers’ various body parts, which the performers encouraged them to do, but actually taking a brazenly flaunted cock in the mouth, to give it a quick suck. Luc was surprised the place wasn’t raided by the authorities, and shut down. But in all probability the management paid protection money to the right people.
The disc jockey manning the sound booth made an announcement over a speaker system.
“All right, gentlemen, while our dancers take a brief and well-deserved break, we’re going to start our famous live sex shows, in the back room. There’ll be a thirty euro admission fee. Feel free to take your drinks back there with you.”
“Now we’re talking,” Luc’s intoxicated friend declared, as he rose from the table. “This is what everybody really comes here for. Come on,” he urged Luc.
A queue was already forming, with patrons going behind the curtain one by one. Luc and his drinking buddy joined it.
Behind the curtain was a long narrow hallway. To one side, was the door leading to the men’s room, so labeled. A few steps farther along the hallway, a second burly, muscle-bound bouncer was on guard duty, seated on a stool, with a lock box in his lap, collecting the entrance fee. Once again, Luc’s new acquaintance paid for them both.
What a rip-off this place is, Luc thought. It’s a dump, but they seem to be making money from the suckers hand over fist.
At the end of the hallway, they went through another doorway.
Luc found himself in another cramped space, smaller than the main barroom. It was set up as a theater of sorts. A raised wooden platform was placed against one wall, in front of an open doorway. Loudspeakers, mounted on the wall high up on either side, piped in the music from the other room. The platform was barely large enough to contain the mattress lying on top of it. The mattress was encased in a thick black rubber fitted bottom sheet. On one corner of the platform was set a large plastic pump bottle of sex lubricant.
A spotlight, aimed at the mattress, threw a harsh glare upon it and its immediate vicinity. The rest of the room was in darkness. Rows of chairs were lined up, facing the “stage.” The seats ranged from folding chairs and worn-out old mismatched armchairs, to equally mismatched chairs which looked as though they’d originally been intended to be placed around dining room tables.
The bar’s patrons who filed into the room seated themselves, tending to spread out, with vacant seats separating them.
As Luc’s friend led him to a pair of adjoining seats, Luc noticed a slight but prevailing, unpleasant odor in the room. It was a compound of sweat, spilled alcohol, stale urine, and cum. There was no point in Luc’s pretending that he didn’t recognize that distinctive smell of semen. He knew what went on in sleazy waterfront dives like this one. In the gloom, the onlookers didn’t hesitate to masturbate themselves to orgasm while they watched the show, or even to engage in sex acts with one another. Those who were drunk enough often spilled their drinks, or they lost control of their bladders and, unable to make it to the men’s room in time, they pissed on the floor.
After no one else came into the room through its entrance, there was a few moments’ delay, and then, without any announcement or other preamble, the show began. Two stark naked men, both in their twenties, emerged nonchalantly through the doorway behind the mattress on the platform. They settled down on the black rubber fitted sheet which covered the mattress, and they began to make out, kissing each other on the mouth, with plenty of tongue action, and fondling each other’s stiff dicks. Soon, writhing against each other, they were masturbating each other, and fingering each other’s assholes, while they coaxed themselves steadily to an even greater level of arousal, and toward ejaculation.
One guy suddenly pulled out a dildo, which must have been hidden away behind the mattress, out of the audience’s sight. It was hard red rubber, shaped like an erect penis, with a tapered point. The performer used the pump bottle of lube to smear the slippery substance all over the dildo, which he proceeded to insert between his partner’s ass cheek
s and into his ass. He thrust about a third of the thick object up into the other young man’s anal opening, and the recipient went wild with what certainly seemed like unfeigned lust as it penetrated him. More and more of the artificial cock vanished inside his asshole, and the first guy fucked him with the dildo while he masturbated himself with his other hand, and, leaning over, he took the other young man’s cock in his mouth and sucked it, noisily and with evident relish.
Within a few minutes, the dildo-fucked dude had a violent orgasm which shook his whole body. Grunting, he shot his sperm all over himself and the other guy. The dildo was quickly withdrawn, and it was replaced by the other man’s big cock. They fucked with a mechanical efficiency, groaning and shuddering while their bodies hammered together in the rhythms of anal intercourse.
The audience was attentive, and appreciative. Several of the bolder men had already unzipped their pants, hauled out their dicks, gotten them stiff, and were masturbating away. Jerking off seemed to be the standard alternative, in lieu of applause.
Luc felt the man beside him grasp his wrist to guide his hand to his lap. He was sitting with his legs spread, and Luc could feel that he had developed a sizable hard-on in his suit trousers. Luc’s fingers caressed the bulge lightly, exploring its dimensions, but then he engaged it manually with greater force, when the guy pushed his hand down harder, and he grunted with satisfaction at the boy’s willingness to grope him.
“Take it out, boy,” he drawled, in a whisper—although there was nobody nearby to overhear who was likely to be shocked by anything he said. “Take my dick out and play with it a little, kid. I’ll give you twenty euros for a good hand job,”
Luc was tempted to ask for double that, namely forty, but a hand job was nothing—scarcely qualifying as actual sex, by his standards—and it sounded as though it’d be quick, easy money. So he continued to fondle the older man through his pants, while he glanced around, nervously. No one was paying attention to him and his john. And these men were scarcely in a position to be puritanical, or judgmental. Whether they were jerking off or not, all of the other members of the audience were staring fixedly at the stage, where the first stud was still energetically fucking his playmate.
Cherbourg Boy Page 3