Beyond the Beaded Curtain

Fuck Julia, I was screaming in my head, as I pulled on my jeans and a dress shirt and my leather vest, slammed through the apartment door, and stabbed at the buttons on the elevator door.

She didn't feel satisfied. SHE didn't feel satisfied. Well, what about me? She didn't satisfy me either. Maybe I could satisfy her better if I ever was made to feel satisfied.

Well, fuck Julia, I muttered as I slammed my fists against the metal elevator walls while it descended twenty stories to the street level below. I'd told her I needed smokes and dressed and headed for the door before she could go into that litany of how Jim had fucked her so much better than I did. Well, fuck Jim too for that matter.

I hit the streets. It was drizzling rain and I knew I couldn't just walk it off. I didn't really need smokes, but I sure could use a drink. There was a bar up ahead, Big John's. I'd never been in there, but it was beginning to rain harder now, and I couldn't go back to the apartment—not just yet. Anything but facing Julie's mocking eyes right now.

I pushed the door open and entered the smoke-filled room. A rock band with a sound much too big for the size of the room was doing it's thing over in the corner. The first thing I realized, though, was that there was nothing but men in the room. Not a woman in sight. Well, that wasn't all that bad. If I looked into the eyes of any woman just now, I'd probably only see Julia's mocking eyes staring back at me.

A skinheaded guy who appeared to have far more muscles than brains motioned me to a seat next to him at a table with a big smile, but I just smiled weakly back at him and moved slowly toward the bar at the far side of the room. I passed men dancing with men. I surprised myself by not being the least bit turned off by this; in fact, I felt a little thrill, like I was going on an adventure—like I was detached from my body and somehow sparring with Julia across the divide between this danger-filled smoky room and the sterile environment of Julia's apartment up in the clouds not more than two blocks away. This was a whole new world to me. Maybe I'd check out this world a little more closely.

I leaned up against the bar and ordered a beer and then turned and watched the rock band and what was going on around me for a while. This was obviously a pick-up joint at the height of its evening activity. Connection, some of a blatantly intimate sort, were taking place all over the room. For some reason I found this exciting, even sexually arousing, in a way that I didn't find Julia arousing. It didn't take long for me to realize that some of the men were starting to buzz around me as well, sensing a new player in the room. I started to become a little embarrassed. I wasn't really planning on being a player; I was just playing on the edge of this world, observing it, considering the "what ifs." And I hadn't the foggiest notion of how to play here even if I had intended to do that.

I ordered another beer. I momentarily wondered how long I could stay away from Julia's apartment on the pretense of buying a pack of cigarettes, when it hit me that I didn't really care. Fuck Julia. I downed my beer and ordered another.

I had waved off several guys in obvious search of a pickup when the mystery man appeared at my elbow. As time went on, the Rock band was getting louder, the beat getting heavier. I knew I was drinking too much; the beat of the music was beginning to transfer into my head as a headache. Tall and dark, with curly hair cascading around his head, he moved into the empty stool beside me I had been protecting to keep some distance between me and the circling crowd. His eyes seemed to be violet. He had a mustache that met his sideburns and a sensuous mouth with an engaging, ready smile. There was a small scar running down his chin that made him seem a little dangerous and kept that question in my mind of what the story was there.

He trapped me with his eyes, and I couldn't lie when he asked if I was alone and if I'd let him buy me a drink. We didn't really say anything to each other, but, although there were loud conversations and music and the smoke of cigarettes all around us, I felt that we were the only ones there. I could hear my heart beating, and I thought I could hear his as well, moving to match the rhythm of mine, matched the rhythm of the band music. It wasn't long before he had his arm around my shoulders in a possessive manner, and on my fourth drink and his second, his arm had drifted down and he was cupping my buttocks with his broad hand. I let it stay there. I was feeling dangerous and exhilarated and aroused all at once, something I hadn't felt with Julia an hour earlier. Above all, I was feeling wanted and desired. I'd play the game for a while longer and then leave and get those smokes and see if I could transfer these feelings into another go at Julia.

All the time he was holding my eyes with his. He set his drink down, fished the cherry out and put it up to his lips. I watched him slowly draw the cherry in, move it around his mouth, and produce the pit in between his lips with that smile of his. He obviously wanted me to do something, so I reached over and went to take the pit out of his mouth, whereupon he captured my thumb with his lips and drew it in.

At the same time, I felt his hand on my thigh. He held my thumb while his hand moved to my crotch, and he felt the full engorging length of me with his hand. I could feel his intake of breath, clearly pleased at what he had discovered. I was pleased that he was pleased. I sensed the growing danger here, though. Just how close to the edge was I here? And on which side of the edge. It was about time to put an end to this pleasant little fantasy I'd entered and return to my world.

He released my thumb and gave me a broad smile. I rotated my hips, in a half-hearted attempt to get free of his grasp. He was moving too fast, but I wasn't sure I minded. All I could think of was punishing Julia for those mocking eyes of hers. She didn't want me? Well, here was someone who was showing he wanted me—even if he was from another world altogether.

His hand traveled with me as I rotated my hips, intending to shake his grip off. Misjudging my intentions, he grasped my cock through the fabric of my pants and his other hand squeezed my butt cheek, holding my hips in place. It was obvious where he was going with this. I relaxed, giving up, bordering on the intoxicated, whether by the drink or the promise of some form of satisfactory sex as a punishment for Julia's mocking eyes.

He pulled away from the bar and led me around the bar by an elbow. I was drawn through a beaded curtain into a alcove with dark velvet walls. We were just a beaded curtain away from the raucous, revolving crowd and the steady beat of the music, but were fully private in our own world in that dark alcove.

He pushed my back to the wall just beyond the beaded curtain and leaned his hips into mine. I could feel the strength and urgency of him. He held me with his eyes again, as his face came to mine. He pressed his lips onto mine, opening me to his urgency and his surprisingly sweet kiss. His mustache tickled my nose. It was time for me to put a stop to this brief fantasy—to stay on my side of this divide. But, although my mind was screaming "break and escape," my legs felt like lead, glued to the spot.

I sensed that it was too late, that I no longer could pull back, and decided to go with the flow, to see and sense what this world looked like, if only for a brief time. I could always go back to my world. I'd probably be better with Julia when I'd seen and been able to reject this world.

His hands were working on the buttons of my vest and shirt, which he pulled off my body and dropped beside us. He quickly pulled off his T-shirt, and we were bare chest to bare chest. I ran my hands up his sides and onto his pecs. He was in magnificent shape, obviously a bodybuilder, and was covered with dark curly hair. I pushed through his curly chest hair and found his nipples, both pierced with rings. I let a hand follow hair down his washboard abs, finding another ring in his navel--curly hair everywhere. I wondered if it continued on down. But I wasn't in a hurry. This would be my one fantasy encounter. I might as well make the most of it.

He was in a hurry, however. This was all moving just too fast for me, but I couldn't have stopped it now if I'd tried. He had me trapped with those violet eyes. He had one hand on my crotch again, and with the other one, he was unbuckling my belt, pulling down my zipper, pushing my pants and briefs over my hips and encasing my stiffening cock. He quickly had his own cock out, and he held them against each other; mine was being measured with his. Mine was a good size, but neither as long nor as thick as his was. He encased both of our cocks in his hand, mine lying atop his. I sighed, letting my hand travel on down below his navel, through curly hair and sliding across the underside of his cock and finding his heavy, hairy balls. He reacted with pleasure, intensifying the sucking motion of his kiss, his exploration of my mouth with his searching tongue. I could have continued at this stage for some minutes, maybe even have left the whole encounter here, but he obviously couldn't.

I gasped as he disengaged from our kiss and quickly worked his lips and his tickling mustache down my neck, over my pecs, down my abs and belly, through my pubic hair, and to my cock, which he took into his mouth and started to work back and forth in a frenzied manner.

I grabbed his head, burying my fingers in his hair, in an involuntary maneuver to stem this full assault on my body. He roughly grabbed my hips with his hands to hold me steady, and when I relaxed and gave into his victorious breach of my crotch, he moved his hands around to cup and dig into my buttocks, still holding me firmly in place while he pumped my rod with his mouth. He pulled his mouth up to where he just held my glans in his mouth, sucking hard, flicking his tongue around my pissslit and then forcing the tip of his tongue into my slit, tongue fucking me there, in that smallest of all entrances to the body. I groaned and tried to escape, but his hands, digging into my buttocks, held me in place. His strength was incredible, and I was weak from the buzz of the drinks. He slowly swallowed me whole again, his teeth scraping down the sides of my penis as he drew me in, applying pressure all the way in. I couldn't help letting loose with soft moans and writhing under his attack. It all was surreal, a party blithely going on in the bar, and a mad man beating down my defenses and eating me alive just beyond the beaded curtain. I grabbed his massive shoulders, beating on them, scratching at them, trying to push him away from me. But all of my efforts were fruitless. His brutal mouth began his pumping of my cock again. The beat of the band beyond the beaded curtain was steadily increasing, and his pumping of my cock matched the rhythm of the band.

Without lessening his pumping of my cock with his mouth and tongue, he took my balls in the fingers of one of his hands and rolled and pulled on them, causing me to give out little yip, yip sounds and to moan more deeply. The fingers of his other hand had found my asshole, and I lurched and writhed and increased my moaning as they worked their way into my ass, not giving me time to adjust, plunging past my sphincter muscle and finding, and roughly rubbing my prostate. Not long after this, I came under his unrelenting onslaught. He just took my cum at the back of his throat as I spasmed three times and went limp against the wall. His hands went to my hips and worked their way up my sides and onto my pecs, He was digging into my chest, nipping and kneading my nipples. I begged him to stop, to let me rest.

He just laughed and told me to turn around and to spread my legs, which I did, meekly, at his sharp command. I felt his hands roughly spread my butt cheeks and he had his mouth and tongue at my asshole, licking, rimming me, and pushing in. One hand went back to kneading the muscles in my belly, the other one was working my cock and balls.

He had me all wet and moaning again in a short time, when, without ceremony, he spun me around, lifting me up the wall with his strong hands, got his arms under my legs, and folded my knees up so my feet were completely off the floor. I was yelling for him to stop or at least slow down, but the noise in the bar was so overwhelming that

there was no one to hear me or to come to my rescue.

I felt the knob of his huge, erect cock at my asshole and, and I tried to lurch and escape him, without success, as the head entered me up to the rim of the glans. He stopped then, but only briefly, as we gasped and panted in unison. He captured me with those violet eyes again and commanded me in a hoarse whisper to kiss him again. As our lips met, he brutally pushed mine open with his and buried his tongue down my throat, stifling any screams of pain and pleasure I might have given, as his long, thick cock slowly but steadily pushed its way up my ass canal, keeping just ahead of my ability to stretch to accommodate him. When he was in up to the hilt, he started to pump me, keeping time with the beat of the band beyond the beaded curtain, slapping and ramming my back against the velvet wall with his thrusts, and didn't stop until he had cum.

When he was finished, he let me slide to the floor and then stood over me, smiling that smile and holding me with his violet eyes, while he adjusted his clothes. He told me that he'd enjoyed me immensely and would like to see me again. He flipped a business card down into my lap, and then he was gone. And I was again alone in the alcove, with the sounds of a raucous party drifting through the beaded curtains. The band had stopped; was probably on break. My whole world had also stopped.

As I lay there on a heap of sore but strangely satiated flesh on the floor, trying to come to grips with the brutal but glorious sexual encounter I'd just had, I also was coming to a realization that maybe the problem with Julia and me wasn't Julia and her mocking eyes at all. Maybe I was meant for something different than Julia. But did it always have to be this brutal and, what concept was I striving for—both intimately personal but also impersonal at the same time? I had no idea where I fit now, but after what I'd just experienced, I couldn't honestly tell myself that I could go back to the other side of that beaded curtain, to Julia, ever again now.