Hey guys! Here's another chapter of The Insatiable Boy. Glad you guys enjoyed the first one. Reese isn't in this chapter, but he will be coming back soon. For now, enjoy all the raunchy little antics that Gavin gets into. This one involves dad/son role play, pussy talk and a lot of nasty sex. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 2: Gavin meets the man who started it all
A few days after my night at the bookstore, I was coming back home later after a hook-up. I managed to find some decent looking dude not too far away and had agreed to meet him over at his place. Sure enough, his pictures did match the nearly 6 foot frame that answered the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. It was like something out of a porn scene- with the dude wearing that classic grey color that, under the right light, showed off the bulge he was sporting.
I left there with a load buried deep in my satisfied little hole, walking with an extra spring in my step after what was considered a sub-par day. My boss had e-mailed me earlier that morning, letting me know that I'd nearly gone over the max number of hours each of us could work. It turns out that all of those extra shifts I'd pulled had piled up, and I now needed to give some away in order to stay under that threshold. I chuckled at the thought of a maxed-out paycheck, but later remembered that I wouldn't be able to take up any more shifts until next month rolled around. That meant a good week and a half before I could go back and possibly run into Reese, hoping to take him up on his promise.
I got back to my building pretty late with all of the nearby shops closed and barely a soul on the street. As I walked towards the door, I saw someone get out of his parked car, clutching a grocery bag in one hand. It wasn't until we both got into the lit foyer that I got a good look at him- a moderately tall Latino guy who can't have been more than a few years older than me. He had this slight scruff on his face that barely worked to cover up that baby face I'm sure he was trying to hide. I held the door open and he hurried inside, thankful that he didn't have to pull out his keys.
"Thanks for that, man." He said, as he tripped on the door threshold, sending the container of baby formula sliding across the tiled floor.
I picked it up and handed it to him, taking a second to admire his beefy frame that was hidden behind a jacket and some jeans.
"Thanks again" he said, shoving it back into the bag, "My wife would've killed me if this had spilled." He gave me a smile, "Hell hath no fury like a new mom who'd just run out of formula."
I laughed along with him, asking, "Oh, so you're the ones in 4B? I always see some woman leaving with a stroller." He nodded. "I'm right next to you in 4A. Gavin" I said with a smile.
"Ah, the neighbor we haven't met yet." He stuck out his hand, saying, "I'm Nico and that woman that you keep seeing is my wife Abby and our son, Miguel. We just moved in a couple weeks ago."
I bit down on my lip, suddenly even more enamored that the hunky neighbor turned out to be a loving husband and father. Even the feeling of that cold wedding ring on his finger made my tired cock stir. But still, even as my fantasies went wild, I kept myself in check- not one to be flaunted when I'm so clearly not desired.
"Well, if there's anything I can do, just let me know." I said, taming the dirty thoughts inside and offering myself in the most platonic and neighborly way possible.
Nico nodded as he started to walk towards the small staircase leading up to the units. "Actually, Gavin." He inhaled, "There is one thing."
He turned around and walked back. "Never mind." he said, like the words were just at the tip of his tongue.
"No, tell me." I said, crossing my arms.
He sighed, "So, Abby and I take turns with the baby, and that usually leaves me with the night shift." He started to explain, "And well, um. I've spent many nights having to listen to certain noises coming from your unit, considering you're the only other resident on this floor." Nico kept talking with an awkward look on his face like he'd been regretting even bringing this up.
"Abby's always out like a rock when Miguel's asleep, but it's a little..loud."
I raised my eyebrow, feeling like a fisherman with an eye on his prized catch. "And what is it that you hear, Nico?"
He sighed again, "Come on, we're both men here, you know what I'm referring to. I mean what else would you be doing at 2 in the morning on weekdays." I could almost feel Nico puff out his chest in an attempt to seem more manly.
I manage to hide my blush, thinking about this past week and the handful of nights I'd spent on my back, while some top fucks me to completion. My shitty Ikea bedframe and the lack of soundproofing within the walls did more than enough to contribute to the late-night sounds that Nico was referring to. I could picture him, blasting some music on pair of headphones trying to drown out my wailing. The previous tenant was a bar owner that was barely home- probably the reason why I'd never heard a complaint before.
I flash him a devilish grin and uncross my hands. "I'll be sure to keep it down the next time. But I can't speak for the other guys."
Nico is now red, clearly regretting that he brought this up in the first place. His eyes widen, getting that mental image of me with a steady stream of random men at all hours of the night. I give him a wink just to make it clear.
He clears his throat, shifting the bag to the other side while fumbling with his keys. "Um thank you for that." He's clearly uncomfortable and definitely regretting bringing anything up in the first place.
I walk past him, twirling my own keys in my fingers as I ascend up the stairs. "Goodnight Nico." I say, leaving him frozen in the foyer. Toying with straight guys usually isn't my thing, but there's just something about him that likes seeing him get all nervous. One thing's for sure is that I do plan to tone it down the next time I have someone over, but only because he had the balls to ask.
***
The next night, I get that same urge as I'm mindless scrolling through Instagram. The wailing of baby Miguel is enough of a reminder that I shouldn't bring someone home tonight- aside from that fact that contrary to my playfulness, I don't actually want to be on Nico's bad side. I also can't think of a bigger mood killer than a crying baby just as a top is whispering unspeakably dirty things into my ear. And so, I get dressed, picking out a simple black button up shirt with a pair of dark washed jeans that perfectly hug my ass. A pair of white shoes and a watch that looks like I dropped a couple hundred on complete the look.
After twenty minutes, I'm in the middle of downtown and in queue to one of the better gay clubs in the city. The first time I came here was by suggestion from this dude I met on Grindr. He was insistent that we go dancing for a bit before getting down to it, and he was too hot to pass up. Still, I made it a point not to come here too often- partly because the drinks here cost an entire hour's worth of pay and because the last time I was here, I'd spent a half hour flirting and dancing with this guy who, at the end of the night, slipped into a an uber half-drunk, leaving me only with a kiss and some blue balls. I didn't mind having to work for my prize, so long as it was guaranteed.
Still, I was determined to not leave here empty handed. So I show the bouncer one of my fake ID's and am let inside after a little bit of hesitation. The club is just what any other kid my age desires: full of strong drinks and Instagram worthy interiors with the faint pounding of a beat that would leave everyone dancing around. But I'm not here for any of that, I'm here for the guys who crowd this place like it's a casting call for the next lead in a CW series. And hopefully one of them is willing to forgo their $18 Long Island Iced Tea and take me home with them.
I walk my way through the club, seeing many of the guys paired up like they're walking into Noah's Ark. Still, I take in the music for a little, dancing away until the back of my shirt is covered in sweat until I cave for one of the expensive drinks. I walk over to the bar and take a seat at the leather-clad stool that's most definitely more expensive than any piece of furniture in my apartment. But before I can even get my drink order in, I hear someone behind, serenading me in his deep bass tone.
"Turn around, baby boy."
The hairs on the back of my head stand at attention as I get a flashback that takes me two years back. I turn, biting down on my lip in hopes that this isn't me imagining things. '
"There he is." He says as I fully turn to him, bathing my eyes in his perfectly pressed white button up shirt that looked like it was bursting at his forearms. His polished black shoes compete with each of the crystal chandeliers in this place as he stands tall- completely towering over everyone around him, including me.
"Daddy?" I say, dropping my voice down along with my eyes that analyze every inch of his tall frame. It had been two years since I last saw him, and somehow he's aged into those years like a glass of wine that's begging to be consumed.
I was 18 at the time, still very new to the city and sex in general. I was still a top back then, refusing to let anyone near my virgin hole in fear that I'd be relinquishing some masculinity and power that I held so dear at the time. But in doing so, I'd been closed off to another realm of pleasure that my high school mindset couldn't comprehend. It wasn't until I moved here that i decided I wanted to properly let go. But I wasn't about to throw that all away for some other freshmen who'd fuck me in his dorm right before his economics class. I wanted experience- I wanted to be fully undone. And so in my search for someone, I found him- a businessman in his forties who had a taste for young blood like me. His name is Rashad, and even saying that in my head, I could feel it rolling off my tongue like slow melting butter. He was the first Persian person I'd met, having been born and raised in a town that was as white as wonder bread itself.
It was a week into college, and I'd managed to convince a bouncer at one of the other clubs that my fake ID was in fact legit. I ended up at the bar like a fish out of water, ordering a cocktail I'd only ever heard in movies. I was slowly nursing it while looking out into the crowd of sweaty bodies and men who looked like they had a couple years on me. Rashad was just on the other end, chatting up with the bartender when he caught sight of me. I smiled, feeling my cock stir at the mature man who looked at me like I was the hottest boy in the whole place. He ended up getting the chair next to me- clearly aware that I wasn't old enough to drink, having only just turned 18 a couple weeks ago.
I remember feeling so enamored at him- how his caramel colored skin peeked out through his shirts and how everything he told me sounded like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He brought me back to his place that night where he took me fully- in every sense of the word. He reached into my depths and pulled out this boy who wanted nothing more than to be taken and used in a way that most guys fear. That was my introduction into all of this. To a life of insatiability that left me ravenous for my next dip into the world of raw, gay sex. All of this came back to Rashad, or Daddy as I so affectionately called him.
