At First Glance
The bowels of the nightclub rumbled under the influence of machine-gun music beats and obscene shouts, all the cause of a sort of indigestion in the city. Outside the nuclear explosive so modestly labeled a party were swarms, nearly plagues of men rushing in, some embracing their counterparts either out of love or sheer sexual desire, the destination ever the same for each. Keeping the most loyal of watches just before the front door were several assumed bouncers, presenting themselves as secret service agents more than fellow flames. There was no secret about it. This particular city corner of the night was the most infamous hotspot for the open homosexual. This city corner was the most sexually active spot in compare to any and all straight strips. This city corner was in heat. Seiko made his way toward the door, as intimidating as the scene happened to be. He himself never was very strong in terms of tolerance of embarrassment or pressure. The question on his mind was what he was doing here in the first place. So many years of staying home alone must have taken toll on his social skills. Sweat had already begun to build up on his forehead, and his walk suffered an acute deformity. Each step he made seemed to seep in a cold germ from the wet city pavement chilling his entire body. Moreover, the item most intriguing him up to this point must have been the couples on their way in. Jealousy seemed to be his personal bully, and woe the worst of mothers. Loneliness happened to be his only friend, a companion he could do without. Perhaps this is why he was here; to find another to suit his needs. It was a pointless cause, though. He knew himself all too well, and he'd never let himself be so free. Morals were his prison, and the bars had yet to be broken. Upon completing his odd trek to the door, one of the several bouncers stopped him in place and demanded identification. Seiko quickly flipped out his rarely used license and was patted on the back, apparently some sort of tradition to signal a right of passage. The very hand which did so, however, slid down enough to groove along his hind side, signaling a slight stir and demand of attention, his eyes spontaneously shot open. Trying to ignore the invasive assault to his body, he continued with his deranged walk to meet eyes with the innards of this bizarre new world he somehow forced himself into. He was in complete awe; or better yet, horror. The main section of the club was a giant dance floor shimmering with typical rainbow designs and strobe lights. Television screens added a sickening texture to the room, video of all sorts of bizarre yet adrenaline inhibiting scenes playing out. Booths with male porn poster tables lined most of the walls, and a bar and tap zone seemed nice and secluded near the rear of the whole scene. Nearly all of the dancers were half naked, most wearing fish nets tank tops and the like. The only true light to illuminate everything emitted from the bar, and oddly enough, that became Seiko's next destination. Traversing a maze of intimately touching bodies, some of which grabbing at his own parts, Seiko fought through his own shy blush to steal an empty bar stool. The bartender made note of his own usual questions for new customers, and when turned down, merely smiled at Seiko's cute bashfulness. For a great period of time, he sat in the stool with his head in his arms on the table, thinking of what ever led him to torture himself by coming to this place. The sight of so many happy duos, even those solely fit for a one night stand, drove a chisel into his heart, and the knife in his back was being turned slowly. For a brief moment he looked up to admire himself in the mirror apparently ahead of him behind the counter. For a taste of the usual he saw himself alone, the same short haired, highly kempt, blue-tinted person he always knew for life. It was hopeless. The blue-green tint in his eyes told the truth to him for years. They were his masters and his torturers. He was a bitch to himself. Stealing his attention away from the sad, depressed figure in the mirror were several others making enjoyable conversation, inaudible in the frustration of noise, at a circular table lit by a candle lamp. A few of them shot glances toward him, or at least as many as he could see in the mirror. One in particular seemed particularly interested. He was a bit younger than himself, maybe 21 or 22, with yellow tinted fur and brown patches along his chest and stomach. His hair was a gorgeous orange, and he donned a fish net, like most of the others. All in all, he outdid Seiko in looks, beating over a black, skin-tight T-shirt with tight spandex and see through articles. Despite the wonderful view, it seemed the whole table was laughing at him for his self-seclusion. A frown slid into his mouth, and his head again fell into his hands. The laughing behind continued, devils haunting him for what seemed like hours. The bartender couldn't stop asking if he'd like something to "drink" either, which was always a good bit of support if he was looking for sex. Unfortunately, that wasn't very high on tonight's agenda. Thoughts started to rush in again. The entire point of this trip was all wrong. He didn't want to meet someone for a quick sleep over and leave in the morning. He had been hurt too many times that way. Again, things began to seem hopeless, as his if his life were a never ending pit of... GRAB! A tight, violent, uncalled for hand clutched hold of and pinched hard on Seiko's rump, startling him beyond compare. The sensation of this violation caught him so off guard he slid off of the stool and knocked over several glasses of wine on the counter, some onto himself as he fell flat on the floor. Before making it down, his chin latched to the counter's ledge and tore his head up so he fell backwards. Sound seemed to cancel out in his ears, and as his vision went into focus from the blur of the fall, the figure who had been the perpetrator of the act was seen standing over him, looking down with a vile smirk. It was that very orange haired creature he'd found so enticing just minutes before. Sound slid back into perspective and all of the round table joined in shameless laughter. The orange haired one returned, still staring into Seiko's eyes, and joined in with the laughter. He rose up to his feet, drenched in whiskey, and again took his seat, feeling an unknowable embarrassment and shame in himself. He was just a joke anymore. His whole character was that of a joke. This proved it. He was right. He was hopeless. Love would never find him. Its query didn't even include such reserved faggots like him in the first place. * * * A flood of cigarette smog filtered through every cubed inch of space in the club, extremely beautiful as seen in the streams of light flowing effervescently from booth lamps overhead. Abandoned wine and shot glasses overloaded the counters of the bar, and spilled alcohol seemed quite sticky on the floor. The lights still maintained their shiftless aura of dim, heartless ambiance. The strobes and multicolored rainbows seemed to had died down, and cleaning crews had begun their morning long escapade. Plenty of unimaginable articles seemed to find their way into public view, which wasn't too uncommon for regulars. Seiko, on the other hand, was left with a molested virgin mind. Even after the attractive males little prank on him, Seiko still remained locked in his seat at the bar. In fact, he had been sitting there all night, still wet with whiskey, still rose from embarrassment, still hopeless with his head in his hands. The bartender found himself in awe at how lifeless his customer was. Several times he had to check if he was even conscious, asking for a simple nod to state awareness. "Hey...buddy...the warehouse has an eviction notice...we all need to be out of here by 3:30 am. You've got maybe 40 minutes before I have to get the bouncer on your ass." Again, Seiko gave but a nod of acknowledgement. Underneath of the general sounds being made by the sloppy janitors and few remaining men of the club, distinct footsteps could be heard approaching the bar, and soon a squeak of the swivel stool just next to Seiko's. Stolid as can be, he just sat there without acknowledging this new visitor. His head still remained blindfolded by his sweaty palms. Whoever this being was, it was taking a great pleasure in aggravating him. It continuously poked his shoulder, demanding some form of attention. Soon it came to playing with his extremely trimmed hair. The infamous back-breaking straw was a gentle squeeze of his rump. In a temporary vent of anger, Seiko flung one arm up to tear the invasive hand away from his rear and the other hit the counter with brute force. Primarily, his face was scrunched into a mesh of hate and rage and anger; until he was slapped with the face of the attractive orange haired male from earlier that night. His face dissolved into total wonder with a hint of bliss. "Hey there sexy...!" The orange haired one said it as playfully and flirtatiously as it seemed could be possible. The two seemed to gaze at each other for a brief eternity, ending when Seiko's eyes broke off to re-profile this new side of the same character. Paranoia soon arrived to his thoughts. Chances said he was being set up for another joke. He was so prone to being taken advantage of. His head fell low, looking to the ground and turning ever so slightly away from his former point of focus. In response, his new male friend took a soft hold of his chin and lifted it back up to look at him. Once focus was again attained, he began to graze his soft fingers along Seiko's cheek; fervently, tenderly. At this point, Seiko's nerves went into overdrive and pumped enough adrenaline through his veins to help him lift a car. For a change of pace, affection was being geared toward him. It felt so wonderful he could have drooled without realizing his unruliness. All that seemed to fit into his own personal universe was this unknown man. Reality came in like a brick wall in a sudden burst of words. "My name's Nailo...and yours?" This gorgeous male had a name finally. Nailo...Nailo...a midsummer's breeze of a name. He could barely spit words out of his own mouth. "I-I...I...I'm S-Seiko..." He jumped a bit feeling a hand catch hold of his shoulder, grazing barely along the neck. "Hey...calm down...I don't bite...!" More playfulness entered his voice. Nailo seemed oddly happy to be in Seiko's presence. It caught the latter off guard...going from a total joke to someone worth knowing. Again, paranoia took hold. A quick change came upon the yellow furred face of Nailo, switching instantaneously from a casual, playful look to a much more down to earth, down to business look. "I...wanted to...apologize...for...well...you know. Sometimes I let things get to my head and do stupid things...what I did to you was a testament to that." New aspects of Nailo's persona seemed to be coming in too quickly to grasp all at once. "I'm a little prone to being a party man, if you know what I'm trying to get at." Seiko was lacking any response whatsoever to give to his friend, and out of desperation, looked down on the counter and mumbled with a stutter, "It's...a-alright." Nailo placed his hand on his new mate's back and began rubbing sexily, with intent to please. His face became casually flirtatious again. "Would you like to...to...come with me...up to one of the...uhh...private rooms...?" Nailo's question was presented humorously, but Seiko took it with eyes wide open. Here he was being offered a passionate night with someone incredibly attractive...probably the only passionate night he would have in his life...and if it occurred...his virgin lifestyle would be taking a new twist. Unfortunately, there lied the problem. He was afraid. He was afraid of sex and the fear of guilt for having made a possible mistake. All his life he had haunted himself with that thought and it belittled him as a being. This time, though, something seemed to fit that never existed before. There was something with this creature which held him in bondage...not to mention he was easy to take advantage of, and he had a hard time just saying "no." In reply, Seiko made an easy nod, and so Nailo smiled with some underlying malicious intent. The orange haired male took his hand and walked him in a very gentleman-like fashion, though still retaining a playful mannerism, to a stair well hidden in the shadows by the exit. He couldn't comprehend what he was getting himself into, but at the same time he didn't really care. He was desperate for love, and somehow he was lucky enough to have found it in a package he adored. * * * Nailo had dragged Seiko up into some motel-style hallway just above where the party had taken place. This area definitely showed its age, with most of the Italian lamp lights on the walls faded out, layering a fond shadow onto the floor. Wallpaper had been torn from hastily applied plaster and drywall, and the floor contained years worth of stains from God knows what, sticking adhesively to their feet as they traversed this shadow zone. Nailo hurriedly took hold of a door knob lacking the "occupied" tag found on most of the others, and allowed his new playmate to enter first. With unprecedented caution, the lightly blue tanned submissive took a seat on the saddest looking bed to ever have been seen and absorbed every detail of this new residence. The room was in about the same condition and appearance as the hall he had formerly been in, but with the addition of scratched oak furniture. A nightstand sat beside the bed with a lamp on top providing most of the light in the room. To the end of the room at the foot of the bed was a smeared mirror looking to have never been cleaned in about forty years. Staring deeper into the mirror, he noticed some unknown object shoved under the mattress. Seiko, curious to find the source of this illusion, found a pair of fur handcuffs, sticky to the touch. At that moment, Nailo slammed the door shut and locked it more than necessary. Slowly, maniacally turning to look at his new friend, he tossed a cute, yet somehow sadistic smile toward him. The innocent merely stared back in awe, enticed by his present situation and fighting to hold his pants low. Finally, in one obscenely curt pounce, the questionable dominant attacked the childish naivety of this new character and immediately gripped the rim of his shirt's neck, sponged their faces together and forced an all too frivolous tongue deep into the other's mouth. Somewhat reluctantly, his mate obliged, and soon the mouths overlapped one another in a fight to win the taste of each other. Nailo's stiff fingers moved up along his lover's neck and felt into his hair, at the same time forcing their faces closer together. Seiko couldn't think straight at this point. He couldn't control his body, his desires or his dignity. Every caged lust seemed to spew from his every pore. In response to the sudden rush of flavor to his throat, his trembling hands swiftly lifted up the body tight fishnet the initiator adorned and felt his hard muscles as they seemed to involuntarily flex, quite similar to his own inability to control himself at that moment. After the twelve second eternity that had passed, their faces parted to replenish their lungs, and Nailo's head fell limp on his paramour's shoulder. This didn't, however, prevent him from tasting his neck. Seiko's breathing pattern fell out of synchronization with the rest of his body, sweat prematurely trickling down his forehead. He could hardly even mumble the reflexive response. "Oh my God..." cracked out of his throat with a hint of tears ringing in the voice. His whispers could have been mistaken for desperation. "Are you alright? What's wrong...what did I do wrong?" In contrast, this response came out clear as day. At the same time, he already had an idea of what he might have done to unsettle his partner...or several things to be correct. As a relief to Nailo, the response came out much more crystalline that before. "No, you haven't done anything wrong...I've just never...never..." "This is your first time getting so close with somebody...huh?" Privately, he was quite glad to hear this. Though it was against his morals to seek virgin blood, something about this one enticed him, forcing the yellow hairs of his back to rise up. As a comforting notion, Nailo again laid kisses onto his lover's lips, but an incredible amount less violently and forcibly. Seiko joined in the ecstasy as well, a great deal more confident this time, hugging his mate's hips tightly. In due course, the kissing ceased and they joined foreheads instead. Simultaneously, their eyes opened to absorb what little light they could, their pupils remaining incredibly large. Seiko had the look of a confused child planted on his face, whereas Nailo seemed to grin ever so slightly as to maintain his toyful, upbeat attitude toward the current situation. For brief moments the heat seemed to simmer down. Regardless, life wouldn't permit such a stretch of peace to last too long. The orange haired youth took a step away from Seiko, leaving him in longing for more passion. In response to this new and enticing expression of lust in the character before him, Nailo took to both of his knees in front of him, carefully spreading the legs before him, staring with wet lips in regards to the massive pulse concealed by thin and tight fabric. The unsuspecting one lying on the bed, still, confused, lusting. No longer did he care to hold up his usual moral standards. All of his general thinking had become unorthodox. The future became a blur, the past a cindered photograph, but the now was live video, every scene jamming his gut deeper and deeper inside. It was his turn to play the game. Seiko, with a tender, light touch, slithered his fingers deep into Nailo's rich hair, spinning it into a cute loop. The two shot the appropriate glances of consenting confidence, and reality lost grip on itself. Nailo, quite assured and seemingly experienced in his deeds, trickled his paramour's pants zipper down with a rain-resembling clicking beat. The hard flesh within slid out involuntarily, almost spastically. It was beating red with blood, thick and ribbed. Seiko let out his demure side and the blood from his member suddenly rushed to his embarrassed face. Nailo licked his lips yet another time, but this time for a purpose much clearer. Convinced no edge was left without lubrication in his mouth, he went to lubricating his partner, manually. With a tentative approach to the sensitive nerves between the shaft and head, he ferociously licked the mighty tool wet with saliva. The sensation of tongue to flesh was as refreshing to each of them as hot chocolate on a cold day, a warm and friendly peace under circumstances not so peaceful. For the youth, the ribbed edges grooved perfectly with the force of his tongue, or vice versa. Every bit of volume of this foreign length was pulled taught and tight, and tasted wonderfully fresh. Seiko had a sensation of his own to keep composure through. The very force of tongue that caused Nailo so much glee nearly shattered him. On several a tingle he nearly fell flat like a puppet, most unable to maintain control of his own muscles. His body drew all energy from his body's nerves and sent every bit of attention to the assessment of this new and unknown emotion derived from this novice intercourse. No words could be made in conjunction to describe the feeling. It was his first bit of intimacy, and the description would have to remain as such. On the front lines of the act, Nailo had proceeded to engulfing a decent portion of the member into his mouth, all attention still being focused on the sensitive head. He loved every bit of it. Heat emanated from his lover's stiff meat to the point in which he began to feel a sweat trickling down his forehead. As a small placebo to make the intercourse seem even more sinful, he began to gently fondle the sizable orbs hanging below his chin. They were loose and easily moldable, and henceforth enjoyable to toy with. His free hand took to the base of Seiko's member, serving as a guide to handle the desirable object with greater ease. It was obvious in the receiver's breathing pattern that the end was near. As a final deed to seal the act, he pressed his entire face into his love's crotch, deepthroating every inch of wide flesh. Without warning and in a completely random and brusque, Seiko pulled Nailo's head away, certain to be careful as to avoid choking him, but quickly nonetheless. The both were separated again, no longer conjoined by any other means aside from possibly thought. "No, no, no, no...I can't do this...oh my God...I'm so sorry, I just can't." He might as well have been stumbling over his own words. Nailo expressed a rare emotion from his face. Sympathy. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to get so...into it. I wasn't really thinking about the fact that this IS your first time." "Y-you don't need to apologize...I'm the one afraid here, and I'm the one who stopped it." Guilt now became his mask. "There is no fault. I've been where you were. And to make it worse, I was a lot younger, but I guess your being 'sin-free' for so long makes us even when it comes to being worried." Seiko suddenly found himself curious. "What was it like for you?" "Well...probably the same feeling you've got right now...I was only fourteen...it hurt...but then again, the guy didn't care about anything but getting near my ass." He said this with a smile on his face, but a fake smile. It was another mask. The smile faded quickly. "I shouldn't have pushed you into this...I wasn't thinking." "No...no...actually, it was one hell of a first meeting." This time the smiles were true. "I'm going to go...but I'll be back...t-to see you...again." The youth smiled with suppressed joy at that statement. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you then." He only wished he could come over with him, and then maybe try things a little slower. Seiko sighed a heaving sigh. "Alright then...see you tomorr-" He looked at his watch. "Tonight." Both chuckled, playfully. They shared passing embraces and a light tapping of lips, and Seiko speedily left the room. Nailo could but think one thing... ...keeper.