Free Beautiful Boys: Gay Erotic Stories by Richard Labonte (Editor)

night of drinking, pushes me against the wall and grabs between my legs. I brush him aside and hurry away, slipping on a patch of liquid slicker than mere water. I take a long, hot shower. My clipped American penis is unimpressive compared to the flaccid uncut European cocks of the men lingering under the showerheads. There’s a beauty swinging between the legs of the Cossack soaping his armpits; it’s as thick as naval rope with a spotted mushroom head. I wonder what it looks like hard and ready for action. Only one way to find out. The fucking son of a bitch brushes my hand away. Cocksucker. Who the hell is he to be so choosy, with his receding hairline and double chin? I knot my towel around my waist and go in search of a wet mouth and a willing hole.
     
    It sounds like a day at the zoo in this place: grunts, groans, guttural noises. Put your cock in my mouth , an Englishman begs as I hurry past his cabin. Sorry, Lord Brideshead, nothing personal . Everyone who wants me isn’t my type, and no one I want is interested. Coming to Prague was a mistake. The guide-books promised a nonstop orgy (at an hourly rate if all else failed), the perfect antidote for being dumped via email by my transatlantic partner of seven years back in DC, who informed me that absence did not make the heart grow fonder and that he’d met the love of his life, a twenty-four-year-old White House intern with a full head of hair and a virgin ass. Discouraged, disheartened, disgusted, I convince myself to make one more round through the bathhouse. If nothing more promising—or willing—materializes, I’ll drop off my key and my towel and splurge on a cab. Better to be held hostage by the extortionist Prague taxi mafia than suffer another adventure on the night tram back to my hotel.
     
    The door to Room 41 is ajar, inviting any curious hand to open it. A pot-bellied bear mounting an eager cub is willing to share his bounty, but frowns when I ask for a condom. I shrug and step back into the hall, resigned to the night ending in frustration.
     
    “Hello.”
     
    I turn and stare into the face of an angel sprawled across the mattress of his brightly lit cubicle. I look to my left, then my right, thinking he must be speaking to someone better looking, more ripped and chiseled, than me. He strokes his long brown penis and offers a blazing smile. I take a tentative step forward, crossing the threshold of his room, still expecting him to shake his head no when, after getting a better look, he realizes he’s made a mistake. But he spreads his legs and cups his round balls in his hand, tugging at his scrotum.
     
    “You like?”
     
    “You speak English?” I ask, confirming the obvious.
     
    “Yes. Of course. Come in. Please.”
     
    He tosses aside my towel and takes my cock in his mouth. His tongue teases me to a full erection, then he slides his lips up and down the shaft, nibbling on the head.
     
    “Is it nice for you?” he asks, his blue eyes twinkling, confident in his skill.
     
    “Oh, yes.”
     
    “Please. Close the door.”
     
    I wedge my body against his on the narrow mattress. He throws his leg over my hip and grinds his cock against my belly.
     
    “Will you be happy to fuck me now?” he asks.
     
    His ass is already slick with lube. He watches with almost clinical interest as I roll a rubber over my hard-on.
     
    “It is good. I am safe, too,” he says before pressing his open mouth against mine and plunging his tongue deep into my throat.
     
    A sweet, fleeting romance with this blue-eyed boy would be nice, twenty or thirty minutes of gentle touching and soulful glances ending in a passionate climax. But his body language says he wants to get straight down to business. He flips on his back and raises his legs, grabbing my hips and pulling me close enough for the head of my cock to tease his puckered hole.
     
    “You will fuck me good?” he asks, less a question than a command to drive my pole deep inside his ass. I slip