Curt is on the lookout for someone to play with for the evening, but he doesn't feel like going into The Frayed Rope, his usual BDSM haunt. Instead, he winds up following a man with a great ass into a dance club. Could Kasey be exactly what Curt's looking for?
Curt wandered up the street, enjoying the warm evening. He was freshly showered, shaved and was lightly splashed with Calvin Klein's Eternity. Now he just needed a place to park his ass for the evening, maybe pick up a pretty little man or a big old stud; he was easy tonight.
He bypassed The Frayed Rope. He was in the mood for something a little lighter, no pressure, no expectations. A little voice in his head told him to hit one of the 'regular' gay bars tonight.
He caught sight of a cute ass and craned his head watching it go past him.
And smacked right into someone, hard enough he was a little winded. "Shit. Sorry."
"'s all right, man." A matching pair of twinks grinned at him, winked. "You were distracted."
"I was." He chuckled and glanced back at that ass again.
"You looking for some boys to dance with, beautiful?" They were a matched set -- blond and lean and little, one with dark eyes, one with blue. Oh, they were tempting, pretty and eager. And sweet-talking him with their complements.
But that little voice told him not yet.
"Maybe another night, boys?"
Brown-eyes pouted prettily, lashes fluttering. "He likes Kasey's ass, man. We saw him looking."
He looked back again, watching the ass in question turn into the Golden Feather at the end of the block. "You know him?"
"Everybody knows him. He's like an artist and stuff."
"Well, I don't know him, pretty-one." He thought maybe he wanted to, though.
"Oh, man. He used to be an actor -- dated Randy Hasten, the soap opera guy? Randy made it big, moved to New York, and dumped him. Kasey came down the beach and started doing performance art, paintings, all sorts."
Blue-eyes nodded. "He's a boozer, sort of, but wicked cool. He let this dude tie him on a big wooden cross and hit him, over and over.
Oh, someone who knew how to take pain, who maybe was into the lifestyle.
Curt licked his lips. "Thank you, boys. I owe you one."