In San Francisco, '77 was a great time to be alive if you were batting for the home team. People felt that they could do, say, or be anything they wanted. Every belief that had been held dear by the multitudes had been challenged in the previous decade and the world had collectively rocked back on its heels, trying desperately to catch its balance. Now it had and what's more, had begun to run forward. Stephan loved every minute of it.
At the moment, he was trolling a bar. This was the third place he and Phineus had tried that night and they had been looking for two weeks. Stephan's friend, who had little patience with this hunt, was already becoming discouraged and his fidgeting was becoming a distraction.
"Hey, Phin," the blond head turned and thickly lashed, azure eyes regarded him. "Why don't you go see if you can find someone to play with after we're done here, man? If I find what I'm looking for, I'll come get you."
"Stellar," Phineus replied with a grin and disappeared into the crowd.
Stephan paid little heed to the come-ons and mild groping as he slowly progressed through the club, looking the men over critically as he pushed his way through the sea of humanity. Now that his friend didn't encumber him, he could devote his full attention to his project, but he didn't hold out much hope of finding what he needed here.
Moving around the edge of the dance floor, Stephan came to a less congested area. Chairs were drawn up to coaster-like tables set up for those who needed a respite from dancing. He was forced to shift his position slightly to keep from being blinded by a blue spotlight aimed at the dancers on this side of the room. Blinking to clear his vision, he scanned the men sitting in scattered, chatting clumps. Stephan was about to move on when a burly fellow shifted forward in his seat, apparently needing to stress some point or other to his companions and he spotted a man at a table beyond him. Here was a man who showed some potential. His prospect watched the dancers avidly.
Stephan assessed him with an artist's eye. His medium brown hair was silvering at the temples but from Stephan's vantage, his face seemed fairly unlined. A finely sculpted nose lead down to a mouth that still held most of the plumpness from his youth—the firm chin and strong jaw gave his face character. Wire-rimmed spectacles framed intelligent eyes that, at the moment, were looking back at him with surprise and interest.
Stephan began making his way over to the gentleman's table, smiling. That's what he looked like, a gentleman, sitting there, neatly groomed in his grey suit, his white shirt being nicely offset by a burgundy tie. He looked to be in good physical shape, but it was hard to be certain. A suit could hide a multitude of sins and the man was sitting with a table between them.
Having come to the bar with little expectation of making a connection, Edgar was surprised, when he noticed a beautiful, young man looking him over from the edge of the crowd. Tonight was mostly about burning images of the writhing, young bodies on the dance floor into his mind for later use. Now, Ed found himself to be the subject of the younger man's obvious attention and he allowed his eyes to travel appreciatively over his potential suitor.
The Romanian cast to the dark haired stranger's chiseled features was enhanced by an old, black biker's jacket. His black T-shirt, advertising a disreputable looking group of men calling themselves the Ramones, had been tucked into snug, well-worn jeans with large, raged holes where their knees should have been.
Their eyes locked and Ed stopped breathing. The living fantasy's full, edible lips, curved into an enigmatic smile. Ed's heart started jack hammering in his chest. He hadn't realized how aroused he had become until he felt the muscles in his stomach and groin clench.
I'm dead. Some piece of lighting or something has fallen from the ceiling and crushed me, Edgar thought to himself as a hand extended to him from across the table.
"Stephan. Tell me your name and I'll buy you a drink," Ed noticed black lacquered nails as he shook the young man's hand. Stephan dropped, uninvited, into a chair.
"It's nice to meet you Stephan, I'm Edgar." Stephen caught a waiter by the hips, as he tried to slip past their table, ordering Ed another Scotch and Soda and a Salty Dog for himself.
"I tend to be a rather straight forward guy," Stephan began as he flipped his wavy dark hair back behind his shoulders in a practiced manner. Ed couldn't be sure, but it seemed to have a purplish cast, that shown like highlights, overlaying the black. "So I hope you don't mind if I jump right in and ask a favor of you."
Ed raised his eyebrows in amusement as the waiter returned with their drinks.
"Would you mind standing up for me, for just a few minutes?" Stephan asked.
"Stand up?" The dark eyes smiled at Ed. "I... suppose not." He finished as he pushed the chair back so he could stand.
The older man didn't know what to make of it when the younger one stood and came around the table. Taking him by the shoulders, Stephan turned him aroundand slid his hands up under the suit jacket. He heard Ed's breath catch when his hands touched the small of his back. Examining the gent's back with his palms, he noted that it felt firm, but not overly muscled and he had good, solid shoulders.
When he felt hands exploring his ass with firm squeezes, Ed had to grab the back of his chair to keep his feet. Stephan knelt and ran his hands over both of the older man's nicely toned legs, staying away from his groin. Standing again, he turned him back around so he could find out how good his chest and stomach might be.
"Very nice. Do you work out?" He inquired of the older man as he flipped off some guy who was hollering for them to get a room. Another was calling for them to hurry up and get busy.
"Whaaa... yeah, once a week or so. I use the facilities at the school I teach at." Past Stephan's shoulder he could see a cute as hell blond making a beeline for them through the tables.
"Stef, is he the one?" The newcomer asked.
"I hope so," Stephan said, reseating himself. "Sit down, Phin."
"The one what?" Ed asked, looking between the two.
"You ain't even asked him yet? Jeeze, Stef!" The blond huffed.
"I haven't had the chance so just chill out. Fuckin' drama queens..." Stef shook his head in disgust.
Turning to Ed, the dark haired man introduced his friend, telling him to ignore Phineus. Stephan explained that he was a painter, producing primarily nudes. He and Phineus were searching for a man with a certain look, a look that Ed filled admirably. What the painter wanted was an older man who had a refined air to polarize the blonde's coarse youth.
Ed admitted that it was a very flattering offer, but he really didn't have the time, with all the papers he had to grade during midterms. Stephan assured him that it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours, explaining that he would take a few rolls of film with them in any pose he could possibly want and then paint from those. He could even come over now and have a look at his work to help him decide. If he agreed to the pictures, they would be able to take them the next day, since this was Friday.
Thinking that, at worst, he was wasting his time and, at best, he might be able to get a little action, Ed agreed to have a look at Stephan's work. Admiring the way the blonde's red, Adidas shorts displayed his ass as they made their way to the front door, he decided he rather liked the idea of being pressed up against his lithe, young body for a few hours. Even if nothing came of it, it would be great fodder for fantasy later on. As the three made their way to the door, Phineus announced that he wanted to stay awhile longer and told the painter to call him in the morning to let him know what Ed had decided, they pecked each other's cheek in parting.
When Ed pulled out his keys and started sifting through them, Stephan said that he had come with Phineus. Indicating the direction he was parked in, he asked where the studio was. He was surprised when it turned out to be a rather wealthy part of town.
"Aww, man!" Stephan exclaimed, racing past him and stopping in front of a red, '57 Chevy. "Would you look at this beauty?" He was caressing the hood like a lover.
"Would you believe I lost my virginity on the hood of a car exactly like this one?" The young man inquired, as he turned and slid his tight little ass up onto it.
"Same color and everything. Tim Martin, man, he was great! We were up here at the windshield, like this..." demonstrating what he meant, he crawled up and balanced himself face up, with his shoulders just above the glass and his feet set wide on the hood, his hips thrust up putting his pelvis in line with his knees. A spot on his jeans, where his package rested, was worn nearly white and had begun to fray. Ed's erection, which had mostly subsided during the conversation at the table, sprang painfully back to life.
"And he was kneeling right there," Stephan indicated the spot between his knees. Ed couldn't take his eyes off of this dark Adonis. His cock had become twisted in his shorts so he reached down to adjust himself. Stephen noticed.
"It would be so tasty to relive it, man. Since I gave you that wood, why don't you climb on up here with me?" He lowered himself until his thighs were braced against his calves and his back lay across the windshield. With his knees spread wide, the brunette ran his hands up and down the inside of his legs in invitation. Ed had to clear his throat before he could speak.
"I'd love to. You have no idea how much I'd love to, in fact, but why don't we wait until we get to your place?" He stepped around the front of the car and opened the driver's door.
"This is your car? That's the joint!" He slid off the far side of the hood and climbed in the other side as Ed tried to make himself comfortable behind the wheel.
"Here, let me take care of that for you." Stephan said, pulling Ed's closer leg up onto the broad bench seat. Sliding over, the painter started working to undo the older man's belt.
"Don't worry, no one will even notice and if they do, they won't care. Not in this part of town."
Once he got Ed's fly open, he reached into his shorts and wrapped his cool hand around the teacher's hot erection. The older man jumped and groaned at the sensation the temperature difference caused. Stephan stroked it lightly a couple of times, watching Ed bite his lip, before gently pulling the burning shaft out of the confining cloth. Holding it just beneath the top, he smoothed the pad of his thumb over the mushroom head several times, smearing the precum around. Ed started panting and gripped the dash with one hand, and the seatback with the other.
Leaning down, he swirled his tongue around the glans, paying special attention to the underside before slipping it into his mouth. He swallowed him as deeply as he could in their awkward position, stroking his tongue back and forth, as he slowly bobbed his up and down the thick shaft. He knew it wouldn't be long when Ed started pumping his hips, pushing his cock deeper into Stephan's mouth.
"Ooh, God... Stef... I'm gonna come. You better pull off if you don't wauuuh..." the remainder of the sentence trailed off into a full body groan, while his cock pulsed out the evidence of his pleasure into Stephan's waiting mouth. The first shot was lost down his throat, but the rest ricocheted off his pallet to land on his tongue. It was salty-sweet and altogether lovely.
Straightening, the younger man tucked Ed's shrinking cock away and started to adjust his clothing. Stephan was surprised when the teacher caught his face in his hands to draw him in for a kiss. Their lips barely touching one another, Ed thanked him by stroking his tongue along the painter's lush, lower lip before deepening the kiss. Sensual massaging of lips, a languid dance of tongues fencing with each other, Stephan groaned as he lost himself in sensation. When the younger man started tugging Ed's best work shirt, in an attempt to pull it out of his waistband, Ed pushed him away enough to speak.
"We'd better go now, before we get too carried away. I need more privacy than we have here," Stephen growled and tried to recapture his mouth. Ed tsked as he held him off. "Patience is a virtue and virtue is its own reward, beautiful." He had to chuckle when the young man sat back and pretended to pout.
"Fine, then you'll be driving with one hand the whole way." As he said this, Stephen fit the teacher's palm against his straining bulge and his fingers down under his balls. Crossing his legs tightly, to keep the digits in place, he started slowly swinging his uppermost leg. Ed could feel the thinning spot in the denim under his fingers as they moved, almost imperceptibly, against the heated cloth.
"I hope you know how to shift." Ed laughed.
Along the drive to the artist's home, Ed would randomly wriggle his fingers or scratch at the cloth beneath them with his nails. Shivers raced through the young body to his right, groans and hitching breaths escaped his sweet mouth. By the time they pulled into the drive and around to the back of the house, Stephen was softly biting Ed's shoulder through his suit coat, whimpering and playing with the hair on his now exposed chest. The older man was hard as a rock again.
Pulling himself and the artist out of the driver's door, he pressed him against the front finder and kissed him long and deep. Massaging Stephen's firm ass, he reveled in the feel of yielding flesh beneath the soft fabric. Breaking the kiss and stepping back, he jerked the snap on the pants hard enough to make the zipper open. Pulling them down as he knelt, He confirmed his suspicion. The young man wasn't wearing underwear. This close, the smell of his arousal was strong.
Stephen thrust his hips forward a fraction in invitation and Ed took him up on it. Catching hold of the base of the artist's rampant cock, he noted that a pleasant amount extended beyond his fist. Collecting the drool of precum from the underside of the head with the flat of his tongue, he drug his tongue upward to delve into the piss slit, searching for more. Feeling Stephen's cock twitch in his hand, he pulled away, not wanting him to come yet.
"You're an evil, evil tease, Eddie!" The impatient, young man groaned in frustration.
"That's news?" As he stood, he let his hands slid up the back of the painter's trembling thighs. Catching hold of Stef's backside, he lifted him up onto the fender, causing him to gasp in surprise. Ed pulled off Stef's loafers; the jeans were discarded as well. Pulling off his clothes, the teacher reached back into the front seat to dig in the glove box. Stef saw the easily recognized jar of Vaseline when he came back around the car door.
Ed finished stripping as he stood in front of the hood. He carefully set his glasses to the side and climbed up, once stable, he moved toward the dark shape awaiting him up at the windshield. Stef was already positioned the way he wanted to be, all he had to do was lift his hips. He did so when Ed settled himself in place.
Opening the jar, Ed coated his aching hard-on. Collecting another dollop from the jar, he smoothed it into the crevice of Stef's ass. The older man wasn't surprised when the artist started opening for him immediately. He easily inserted his index finger, each subsequent finger took a little more effort, but Ed knew it would be worth it. When he could twist three fingers in and out and Stef was pleading for more, Ed positioned himself. Holding onto his smooth hips to keep them steady, he pressed forward. Feeling the head slip past the opening with little resistance, he continued gliding in.
Stephan, trembling with the need for release, cried out when he felt Edgar's shaft slide against his prostate and jammed himself down onto its full length. Fireworks went off behind his eyes, mirroring his explosive orgasm. Seeing the evidence of Stef's pleasure coat his smooth, hairless chest and stomach, and feeling the painter's body begin milking him while his young hips ground against him, nearly broke Ed's control.
When the spasms finally passed, the teacher held the limp, gasping man. Having held onto his composure by the skin of his teeth, he waited until Stef had regained his senses before moving. Tilting the artist's pelvis, the older man began slowly thrusting upward. The angle allowed him to slid across Stef's hot spot with every thrust, causing the artist's flagging member to jump back to attention. Grabbing the hem of his T-shirt with both hands, Ed pulled in opposite directions, ripping it in a ragged line up the middle.
"God, that was hot!" Stef moaned, clutching Ed's triceps.
Ed began thrusting against Stef's sweet spot again, as he leaned forward to lave his nipples. The painter started whining and digging his fingers into his shoulders when Ed lightly sucking on the raised peaks, flicking his tongue. Stephan cried out as his second orgasm ripped through him.
Edgar gave his prostate little taps until the flow of come subsided. Finding that he could no longer hold back, the older man began giving full thrusts into the quivering passage that held him. Groaning as he buried his face in Stef's neck, Ed sucked and licked the tender skin behind his ear.
Running his fingers through the older man's thick hair, the painter rocked his hips in counterpoint to the teacher's. The sensation of fingers skimming through his hair, caressing his sensitive scalp, pushed Ed over the edge of the abyss. He roared his release into Stef's silky neck. Ed's body spasmed, his back arching with each orgasmic rush.
Stephan felt the older man's cock swell and begin twitching. The sensation of Ed blasting against his hypersensitive prostate set him off again, catching him completely off guard. A wave of ecstasy slammed through him, this one so powerful he couldn't even vocalize. They lay there, curled into each other until their breathing had returned to normal.
"Holy shit! That was slammin'!" Stef murmured into Ed's hair.
"Well put, my young friend." They rested for a while longer so they wouldn't have to climb the back stairs on wobbly legs.
"This is an awfully, mmmm... comfortable home. I thought artists were supposed to starve." Ed commented, as they passed through the kitchen, gathering beverages as they went.
"I get a very good price for each piece and I sell a lot of them." The painter said, smiling over his shoulder, as they climbed to the second floor.
The entire second floor had been gutted to form one, large room with small pillars serving as structural support. Framed posters of various musical plays and movies adorned the walls. A huge, brass bed dominated the southern facing wall, which consisted primarily of windows. Floor lamps were scattered around, casting pools of light. To the right, a large cast iron claw-foot tub sat out in the open, as did the toilet, with a curtain that could be drawn for privacy. A heavy drop cloth separated a corner of the room that was used as a darkroom.