Impulsive

They were the only ones in the men's room. Black was standing at a urinal. He had his cock out. It was humongous--long and thick... and half hard. Gordy stood there, a few urinals away. But he was turned to Black, watching him piss in a strong arc. He didn't unzip and belly up to a urinal himself. When Black was done pissing, he remained there, grasping his cock and stroking it erect.

"I liked that video you did with Austin Hawk," Black said while he was stroking himself. "I liked what Hawk did with you--that you just let him have what he wanted... and took it and took it."

"So, you did see the video from Hawk's subscription service," Gordy said. That said all he needed to know about Black. Black was a player of young men and was willing to shell out big bucks to see Hawk perform.

"Touch it," Black commanded, wagging his erection in Gordy's direction. Gordy didn't respond immediately, and Black reached over and took one of Gordy's hands and moved it to his cock. "Touch it. Stroke it." Gordy then fisted the erection in an expert underhanded grasp and smoothly stroked it. After a few minutes of Gordy responding to that command, Black growled. "On your knees. Suck it."

Gordy went down on his knees and gave Black head, as the man ran his fingers into the singer's long, black hair at the back of his skull and held Gordy's head to his crotch until he'd released in the back of the young man's throat.

"Come with me," Black said as he pulled a gagging Gordy up from the floor.

"Shouldn't we be getting back? The lawyers will be looking for us."

"No, we go the other way," Black said, pulling the young man out into the corridor and hustling him down the hall in the opposite direction from the room where they had been involved in a deposition. "There's more than one way to settle this lawsuit."

Gordy could act on impulse, but, apparently, so could Arnold Black.

* * * *

The motel was a fleabag named the Wagon Wheel on West 58th Avenue, in Allendale, on the western edge of Denver. Gordy sat in Black's rental Chrysler 300 while Black rented the room they'd parked in front of. Lots of rooms were available, although two doors down from the one they rented was one where the door was open. An old orange Dodge Charger was parked in front of the room and a hunky Hispanic buy, stripped down to shorts and flip-flops, was soaping up and hosing off that car. He also was ogling Gordy and Gordy was eyeing him back while waiting for Black to secure the room.

Once they were inside, Black took charge and went straight for business. He told Gordy to go shower and clean himself out. When Gordy came out of the small bathroom with its chipped black and white tiling, Black was down to in the buff too and checking out what was on TV. He knew his motels, because he managed to find a gay sex video channel. Black was paunchy, but he had a powerful body, heavily muscled. He was hirsute, some of the hair turning to gray, the rest a mousey brown, and he was hung like a bull.

Gordy sat on the foot of the bed, working his cock and watching the gay video while Black took a shower.

When Black came out, in full, thick and long erection, he put Gordy on the floor, both of them facing the TV set, on all fours, and, without ceremony, he mounted Gordy's hips, penetrated him, grabbed a hank of the Lakota's long, black hair to use as reins, and rode Gordy to an ejaculation. Gordy ran a hand under his belly and took care of himself.

Afterward, Gordy returned to sitting at the foot of the bed and watching the TV while Black stretched out on the bed and had a smoke. He played with his cock until it was hard again and then called Gordy to come up onto the bed and ride the shaft. Gordy did so, facing away from Black, palming Black's knees, and watching the TV. The video showing used the same position, and Gordy made an effort to coordinate his rising and falling with that of the actors on the screen. The top in the video was Austin Hawk, which Black had found amusing and had gotten a good laugh out of.

There was no reluctance or shyness on Gordy's part. He liked being fucked and had been aroused by how impulsively they had walked out on their lawyers to get off in a cheap motel.

When they were done a second time and, leaving Gordy stretched out on the bed, Black flipped off the TV, took another shower, and came out of the bathroom dressed and closing his fancy gold cufflinks on the white Egyptian cotton dress shirt, he probably wouldn't have said anything to Gordy before he left if the young man hadn't spoken. He'd gotten what he wanted. He had no trouble leaving the young, promiscuous, and unpredictable rock star naked on the motel room bed.

"So," Gordy said, "does this square us? Since we're such friends now, are you going to drop the suit?"

Black snorted. "Of course I'm not going to drop the suit. This doesn't come out of your hide and, if anything, it appears to make you more of a god in your fans' eyes. The insurers will pay the freight and both sides get great publicity out of the court case. I'm taking your insurers to the cleaners. It's just business. Don't take it seriously."

Hanging in the air was whether the fucking they'd just done should be taken seriously, but the answer for both of them was probably a no, so the question wasn't asked.

"You going to drive me back?" Gordy asked.

Black was already at the door, with it open. It took him no time at all to snort again, say, "Fuck, no," and be gone. Gordy rolled off the bed, went into the bathroom, and took another shower. He had all the time in the world and no immediate plans other than to check to see if he had brought cash or cards to get a cab from here. He wasn't all that sure where he was booked in a hotel. He usually moved in haze of drugs these days and relied on his manager and his "hanger-on" guys to guide him around. He hadn't paid much attention to how they'd gotten here from anywhere.

When he walked out of the room, the Hispanic hunk two doors down, was sitting in front of his sparkling clean Dodge Charger, sitting in a plastic patio chair that was tipped back against the wall, and drinking a beer out of a bottle.

Gordy looked at the Hispanic hunk and gave him a smile. The Hispanic guy smiled back, tipped the chair back onto four legs, stood and went to the open door of the room in front of the Charger. He held out a hand.

On impulse, Gordy walked to him. "What does a guy have to do to get a ride in the nifty car of yours?" He asked.

"We should be able to strike a deal," the Hispanic hunk said, with a smile. He came close to Gordy and when Gordy didn't shrink away from him, he palmed Gordy's butt, guided him into the motel room, and shut the door behind them.