Hipster Brothel (contemporary gay romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  “But I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want, you know that, right?” Mr. B whispered.

  “Stop being so considerate,” growled Jo. “You were right all along, and I was fucking selfish. I just want to make us work.”

  Mr. B pulled away for only long enough to look into Jo’s eyes with a smile. “We will work out. I promise.” But then his face froze, and he pulled away as if he were on fire. “Fuck! Fuck! Wait here. I have to call this guy. He’s coming tonight, and I thought I could do this brothel thing, but I can’t, I have to call it off.”

  Jo grabbed both his wrists and kept him in place, looking straight into his eyes to make himself as clear as possible. “He’s already here.”

  Mr. B stared at him, and it took a long moment for the truth to sink in. “But… you have no money.”

  Jo hung his head, only to look up again. “The advance... that was my salary.”

  Mr. B rubbed his forehead and for a moment Jo worried that he was angry, but then Mr. B sighed loudly. “Thank you. This was such a bad idea.” He looked at the jar again, and his mouth stretched into a smile. He leaned in and gave Jo a soft kiss. Jo had missed those so much he trembled from the emotion suddenly flooding his heart. He was sure he’d made the right choice. Mr. B was the most tender, sweetest guy Jo knew, all in a package of a tall, hot, lumberjack. “‘Jornard’s’. I like that.”

  “Do you like ‘Jo and Mr. B’ together too?” asked Jo, putting his arms around Mr. B’s midsection and cuddling up to him.

  Mr. B’s smile widened until it was brighter than the campfire. “I can’t believe you pranked me into wearing wooly socks for ‘William’.”

  Jo frowned. “What’s wrong with wooly socks?”

  “They’re not exactly… sexy, are they?”

  Jo looked down at the thick fabric sticking out from Mr. B’s boots, feeling increasingly self-conscious. “They look cute on you.”

  “So what else was true in that questionnaire?” Mr. B’s fingers sneaked under the back of Jo’s T-shirt.

  Jo exhaled, and his eyes shut for a moment when the warm touch made his knees buckle slightly. “Well, the name was fake, but... that’s about it,” he said softly, embarrassed that Mr. B thought his tastes were silly.

  Mr. B licked his lips, analyzing that for a while. “So… you’ve brought snacks to share, and you’d like to have sex outdoors?” He didn’t seem displeased at least.

  Jo clenched his teeth and pulled Mr. B’s face lower by tugging on his beard. “You shouldn’t have agreed to outside food. What if the guy drugged you, and abducted you, or stole your freaking kidney?” He groaned, but before Mr. B managed to answer, he added, “I have rosehip jam donuts.”

  Mr. B moaned as if they were fucking already, and the face he made had Jo wishing that were the case. “Jo… I love those so much… I just wanna stuff my face with them.”

  “Well, you need to wait, because I want you to teach me to chop lumber first,” said Jo, slowly leaning in until his lips brushed against Mr. B’s in an electric kiss.

  Mr. B’s hot fingertips trailed up and down Jo’s spine. “So you really wanna do this? To be honest, I’m kinda happy you do, because it would be a shame to have all this go to waste.”

  Jo whimpered, rubbing his forehead against Mr. B’s beard. “Never. I am so ready to learn all kinds of survival techniques from you.”

  “Get ready for the boyfriend experience then.” Mr. B laughed and pulled away. He grabbed his ax and put it over his shoulder. “So you’re up for watching a real man cut wood?” If Jo didn’t know just how cute and approachable Mr. B was, he could consider his large frame and handsome features intimidating.

  He nodded, watching the firm forearms tense where they stuck out from underneath the folded sleeves. Jo knew all the tattoos on Mr. B’s body by heart. “Yes, please.”

  Mr. B walked up to him and slung a beefy arm over Jo’s shoulders. “Come on then. First, tell me how much experience with wood you have?”

  Jo looked down, straight at Mr. B’s dick, which was starting to become a clear outline in one of the jean legs. He exhaled, more aroused by the second. Even the cool evening air couldn’t make him cold. “About a month or so.”

  Jo whimpered when Mr. B’s warm hand settled on his nape, and the fingertips tickled the sides of Jo’s neck.

  “You need practice then. A lot of practice. You will have to visit me here often.” Mr. B led him past the train car and toward the stump that he usually used for cutting wood into smaller pieces.

  Jo licked his lips, pushing against the heat of Mr. B’s body as he watched the pile prepared for splitting. “Only if the lesson is satisfactory enough.”

  “Oh, it will be. I do this for a living, babe.” Mr. B pulled Jo in front of himself with ease, as if he’d practiced to do just that. His wide chest pressed against Jo’s back, just like the hard-on in his pants. Jo thought they’d do this to joke around, so he was surprised to find himself overwhelmed in the warm embrace. “Grab the ax with both hands.” Mr. B passed it to him.

  It was heavy in Jo’s grip, but he raised the blade, watching the stump and the little piece of wood on top through the haze of rapidly growing arousal. Mr. B’s body protected him from the cool air, and his warm breath danced over Jo’s nape again and again, sending delicious tingling down his spine.

  Mr. B’s arms slid against his, and Mr. B settled his hands on top of Jo’s, so warm and big Jo couldn’t wait to feel them on his naked body. The position they were in reminded Jo of a couple playing golf or baseball in a romantic comedy, but it was probably part of the cheesy appeal of the experience.

  “You ready?” Mr. B asked, as he slowly ground his dick against Jo’s ass.

  Jo groaned, leaning back into the comfort provided by the wide chest behind him, but he gave Mr. B a nod, lowering his head just so that he could sense the beard against his bare nape more prominently. “Yes.”

  He didn’t actually do anything. Mr. B did all the work, and Jo was just enjoying himself with his arms against Mr. B’s. They lifted the ax, Mr. B made sure they were in the right position, and then they brought it down together with fervor, making the piece of wood split in two.

  Jo couldn’t even pinpoint why his heart was beating so fast over something so silly. Maybe it was the blade of the ax so close, or maybe it was experiencing Mr. B’s strength firsthand that got him so rattled.

  The thick dick pressed against Jo’s ass every time they moved forward. Whenever a new piece needed to be placed on the stump, Jo would lean down for it, and Mr. B’s hand trailed under his top, massaging his back gently. It awoke sensations Jo couldn’t fully comprehend, so he went completely silent, letting Mr. B’s hands direct him.

  “You’re getting good at this,” Mr. B murmured against Jo’s ear and licked along the earlobe, sending a shudder straight to Jo’s balls.

  Jo whined and rolled his hips back, rubbing his ass against the thick cock trapped underneath the tight jeans of his dream lumberjack. “You think? Maybe I should learn working on a different kind of wood now?” he asked, both aroused and acutely embarrassed because of the horrible pun.

  Mr. B let out an animalistic groan against Jo’s skin. “Do you think you’re ready to progress to that?” He let go of the ax, leaving it in Jo’s hands, and ran his own down Jo’s thighs, only to stroke up, all the way to Jo’s groin. A little piece of wood dug into his knee uncomfortably, and so he shifted, pushing even closer to his lover.

  “Oh, fuck, yes,” whispered Jo, turning around to face Mr. B. The large palms that had rubbed against his cock just moments ago now squeezed his ass, and he moaned into Mr. B’s warm, open mouth. “I will be an eager student, I promise.”

  “How do you want to work the wood then?” Mr. B asked and gently took the ax out of Jo’s hands. Which was thoughtful, because Jo’s fingers were trembling like frightened puppies.

  Jo grinned, pulling on Mr. B’s belt and already unbuckling it with fervor. “I have an idea. I think I ne
ed to get to know this thick branch intimately,” he said, slowly sliding to his knees, with his chin rubbing against Mr. B’s body until he was all the way down.

  Mr. B spread his feet and arms, watching Jo with a little smile. “Be my guest. It’s your boyfriend experience.”

  Jo laughed and unzipped the jeans, pushing his face between the open folds and rubbing his nose against the bulge under the cotton. For a moment, he choked up when he realized Mr. B wore the boxer shorts with the ax-print, the ones Jo had brought him from Canada. The cock was warm and so alive for Jo that he started sucking on it through the fabric, even if he didn’t appreciate the taste of cotton all that much. “I can’t get to it though.”

  “Let me help you…” Mr. B watched Jo with the same kind of gaze with which he watched donuts, and Jo’s skin already prickled with imagined bites. He pulled his jeans and briefs slightly lower, and when that thick dick sprang out, Jo groaned with the pleasure of seeing it in all its glory.

  He captured Mr. B’s sac in his mouth and moaned when the warm cock bumped across his temple in the process. He gently separated the balls with his tongue and savored the clean taste of skin, the salt of fresh sweat, and the musky undertone of arousal that was in the mixture because of him. He grabbed the cock at the base and sucked in the head next, unable to resist its smooth texture. After a month of being together, he’d grown much more proficient at pleasuring Mr. B with his mouth, and he looked up, proud of the way he could take him in so much deeper now.

  Mr. B’s face went slack, but he still kept his gaze on Jo despite his eyelids clearly being heavy. He was a monument of a man in the plaid shirt, with his beard trimmed to perfection, and his big hands already reaching for the sides of Jo’s face, just the way Jo loved it.

  He whimpered around the girth and hollowed his cheeks, suddenly grabbing Mr. B’s ass to show him just how serious he was about giving him a mind-blowing experience. Opening his mouth wider, he tickled the base of Mr. B’s length with the tip of his tongue and drew back to focus on the cockhead once more. The salty precum drizzled to his tongue, and he swallowed, sensing his own cock hardening further from the excitement of it.

  “That’s so good…” Mr. B murmured. “You’re doing so well. Christ, my cock missed you so much,” he added the last one in a whisper. Gently holding Jo’s head, he started rocking his hips to push that wonderful cock farther down the welcoming softness of Jo’s tongue, and each movement made his buttocks flex under Jo’s hands.

  Jo chuckled so hard he needed to take a moment’s break. “Well, I’m here to soothe it now, right?” he asked and gave the cock a long lick from the base all the way to the head. It twitched when he rolled the tip of his tongue right under the ridge of the head, and he immediately licked away the moisture that beaded at the little hole, just for him.

  Mr. B stroked Jo’s ears with his thumbs. “Did I ever tell you I find it hard to jerk off thinking about anyone else?” Mr. B wouldn’t even blink as he said that, his strong body tense, his cock eager for more licks and caresses.

  Jo moaned and sucked Mr. B’s cock especially loudly. That was so hot. He wanted to keep Mr. B for himself. For good. He didn’t even notice when he started humping the air, painfully aroused from the taste of Mr. B and the way his dick so deliciously fit into Jo’s mouth. He let his hands wander, increasingly desperate to make his lover come. It had been too long since he last tasted him.

  Mr. B leaned forward, seeming even bigger, even more all-encompassing over Jo. “Do you want to swallow?” he rasped, and his hips started working in a faster rhythm, pushing his dick through Jo’s lips time and time again, reminding Jo of the way it had fucked him so many times.

  Jo clung to Mr. B, nodding as best he could with the cock blocking him from actually saying anything. He looked up, capturing Mr. B’s gaze, and sucked harder, tightening his lips around the girth to give his lover even more pleasure. The dull groans Mr. B made in response rained down Jo’s back and only spiked his own arousal. Whining in desperation, he opened his pants to relieve the pressure on his erection.

  “Yes…” Mr. B moaned, and the way he rapidly clenched his ass coincided with the first spurt of cum in Jo’s mouth. Mr. B’s cock was so hot and rigid Jo was going frantic from all the sexual fantasies it forced into his mind. He whimpered and gripped Mr. B’s ass harder, running just the tips of his fingers over the crack. He’d fuck Mr. B tonight. Have him by the camp fire, spread his thick, muscular thighs, and enjoy every second of his cock getting milked between the soft buttocks.

  He swallowed everything, almost surprised when Mr. B finished, his muscles going slightly limp under Jo’s touch. Jo pulled away and gave the still-hard cock a kiss, but he yelped when strong hands pulled him up so rapidly for a moment he felt as if he were about to fly up, like a weightless balloon. But Mr. B pulled him against his chest, then spun him around to secure Jo against his own body, and his huge palm squeezed on the painfully erect cock that was still trapped in Jo’s underwear.

  With only the sweat on Mr. B’s hand for lube, the touch was almost too much. Almost. Combined with the slowly softening cock pushing at Jo’s ass, the raw, quick strokes to his dick were a whole new dimension of pleasure. Here in the woods, no one would hear him, so Jo didn’t temper his moans, grinding against Mr. B as he came rapidly, spilling his cum all over the thick, calloused fingers.

  His knees were so soft, he could barely stand, but Mr. B was there, holding him up, whispering filth into his ear and tickling it with the beard. The scent of freshly cut wood was as thick in the air as that of cum and pleasure, and Jo was sure he would forever associate it with this experience.

  It took him several moments to gather his scattered thoughts to finally speak. “I... would definitely call this lesson satisfactory.”

  “Isn’t it me who is giving out grades? I’d love to give you… a D.” Mr. B gave Jo that silly grin that always came with his puns.

  “Like... the D?” Jo chuckled, slowly turning around to hug Mr. B. His blood was still hot, and despite the tiredness that sank its claws into his body, he could sense an undercurrent of arousal just beneath his skin.

  "Why you gotta spoil my pun? Of course it's the D." Mr. B put his heavy arm around Jo’s shoulders and forced him into motion so that they walked back to the campfire despite still having their cocks out. “But according to the questionnaire, it’s me who’ll be getting it?”

  Chapter 11

  The fire sent bright orange sparks into the sky, surprising Jo and making him lean closer to Mr. B. The fresh air smelled of pine and warm wood. And of Mr. B, whose body now steamed with vaporized masculinity.

  Jo grinned, pulling his bag off the ground on the way to the den of blankets and sheets close to the fire. “I thought you’d be getting the D, if we’re to follow your questionnaire, but it’s okay if you don’t feel like it. We didn’t really talk about it much so far,” he said, letting himself slump down.

  Mr. B hugged him as soon as they sat down. “Because someone was always horny to get their ass filled. And I won’t lie, I was always eager to deliver. Jo, you have no idea how long I had tried to not creep on you.”

  Jo smiled, allowing himself a bit of inner boasting. “But when your attention slipped, what did you imagine?” he asked and pulled out the box of fresh donuts. He couldn’t wait to see Mr. B eat them. He made the most joyful sounds when he chomped down on their soft dough. They were these… groans of happiness.

  Mr. B bit his lip and nudged Jo’s temple with his nose. He squinted, frowned, and said nothing, only making Jo prod him about it.

  Jo chuckled and nudged him with his elbow while opening up the sweet-smelling box with his other hand. “Come on. You know of my deepest secrets.”

  It was as if the donuts unlocked Mr. B’s lips. “Okay, but donut first. Oh, man, they’re glazed…”

  Jo licked his lips and sat on his heels, to be a little bit higher next to Mr. B. He put his arm around B’s shoulders and picked up the first donut. “I know r
ight? They’re from this Polish bakery in town. The same one I got donuts for your birthday from,” he teased, smelling the pastry first. Its aroma was a delicious concoction of rosehip, vanilla, and yeast, shiny with the glaze and fried to a pleasantly dark hue.

  Mr. B opened his lips wide. “Have I told you you’re the best?” He trailed his fingers over Jo’s side.

  It was like a match striking against the stretch of Jo’s body, and he almost moaned from the heat of the touch. “Now I’m gonna be even better,” said Jo, moving the donut close to Mr. B’s lips. He could already hear the sound of the dough giving under his strong teeth, and imagined the crumbs of glaze settling in Mr. B’s beard.

  Mr. B let out that groan Jo longed to hear when he bit off almost half of the donut at once and chewed it with his face completely relaxed and reflecting utter bliss. Maybe that was why Jo loved feeding him so much. For years, this had been the only way he could feel like he was giving Mr. B a mouthful of pleasure.

  “So good…” Mr. B said with his cheeks still stuffed.

  Jo kissed his temple, then moved his mouth along the shell of Mr. B‘s ear, breathing in the minty scent of shampoo. The heavy body settled against him comfortably, as if he could provide Mr. B with all the joy in the world. “So what was it? Tell me your dirty secret.”

  “I’d force myself to not focus on your body that much, but I’d imagine your cum-face. If you would get red, if you closed your eyes, how you would sound, if you would bite your lips…”

  Jo laughed at how innocent that was. “Aw, that’s so adorable. And now you know,” he said, rewarding him with the succulent middle of the donut, where the delicious jam awaited.

  Mr. B nodded as he chewed, and just as Jo had expected, the crumbs were gathering in his beard and it was so unbearably cute Jo curled his toes. “I do. And it’s beautiful. You are so beautiful when you come.”