King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate
By Addison Albright
Published by JMS
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Copyright 2017 Addison Albright
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* * * *
King Kong vs. The Skinny Pirate
By Addison Albright
Blaine sat on an empty
barstool between a likely prospect and King-fucking-Kong. He lifted
his chin, summoning the bartender as he ran freshly manicured hands
over the textured cashmere of his Kiton pinstripe suit, smoothing out
“A Skinny Pirate,
The bartender quirked
an eyebrow but otherwise kept his face expressionless. “Coming
vision picked up movement to his left. King Kong was looking him
over. He turned his head to the right, ignoring the hairy behemoth,
to check out his hopeful hookup for the evening.
Maybe a couple inches
taller than himself, the man was casually dressed in freshly pressed
khakis and a clean navy polo shirt. His dark wavy hair was neatly
trimmed, and his hands, while not professionally manicured, were well
The man concentrated on
a Screwdriver, studiously ignoring him, though.
The bartender placed
the drink in front of Blaine, and he slapped some bills on the bar.
“Why’s that called
a Skinny Pirate? Looks like rum and Coke to me.”
Blaine sighed and
turned to the muscle-bound hulk. “Because it’s made with Captain
Morgan rum and Diet Coke.”
He picked up his drink
and spun on the stool to cast his gaze over the room. No prospects.
No singles, anyway. The patrons all appeared to be in couples.
King Kong turned on his
seat and brought a domestic longneck to his lips. The man was big and
hairy—except for his bald head—but basically clean, albeit
slightly rumpled, in jeans and a snug T-shirt. Minute traces of
grease stained his cuticles, and his beard could use a trim. A gold
hoop glinted on his right earlobe.
“Not much hope out
there. I’ve already scoped the place.”
Blaine glanced at the
guy on his other side. Maybe there was still a chance.
“Preppy there’s got
someone who’s going to be joining him.” King Kong shrugged. “I
Blaine heaved another
sigh and took a more thoughtful look at King Kong. How bad did he
really want to get laid tonight?
King Kong grinned.
“Feelin’ desperate, are ya?”
Maybe not that
King Kong actually
waggled his eyebrows. “I showered and everything.”
Blaine crossed his
arms, and his jaw tightened. The man was laughing at him. Sure, he
was picky, but he had a right to be, goddammit. He sucked in a deep
breath and slowly blew it out, then took a sip of his Skinny Pirate.
“What’s your name? Or should I just call you ‘King Kong’?”
The man’s laughter
reached his eyes. “That depends. You wanna be my Ann Darrow?”
“Blaine will do fine,
“George. My name’s
It fit him. Not as well
as Harry, but it matched him.
Blaine put out a hand.
“Pleased to meet you, George.” What the hell, the man had
“showered and everything.” He was huge, but not fat. Not Blaine’s
typical hookup, but perhaps he’d do. He certainly had a nice firm
grip. “So what do you do? Mechanic?”
George smiled and
looked at his hands. “Never can get it all off, no matter how much
“It’s honest work.”
Blaine was choosy but didn’t consider himself an elitist. Hell, he
was lost under the hood of a car and had plenty of respect for those
who understood an engine.
George leaned back and
considered him. “It is. Hard, sweaty, and grubby.” He grinned.
“Kinda like good sex.”
Jesus. Didn’t sound
too much like the sex Blaine was used to.
“How ’bout you,
Blaine? I don’t get the impression you work with your hands.”
“I’m an attorney.”
“I was gonna guess
either that or some kinda corporate raider.”
Blaine smiled. “Well,
I’m the attorney for a corporate raider, so you got a pretty
good read on me.”
“There now, you see?
We’ve got two things in common. We’re both pretty astute
“That’s one thing.
What’s the other?”
George inclined his
head. “We’re both horny gay men.” He grinned again. “And here
I’d just complimented your powers of observation.”
Blaine laughed. “You
got me there.”
“So the question is,
what are we going to do about it?”
“I believe this is
the point where one of us asks, ‘your place or mine’?” Blaine
tossed back the rest of his drink and raised his eyebrows.
The lines around
George’s eyes crinkled to life with his renewed smile. “I cleaned
my apartment and everything, too.”
* * * *
George’s place was
small, but tidy and clean. Blaine preferred not to bring hookups home
with him, but it was often a germaphobe’s worst nightmare going
home with them. Some of the most well-turned-out men were such total
slobs it was hard to even hold a boner in the surroundings. He gazed
around the room, taking in the tasteful, if inexpensive, furnishings.
“You’re a man of
your word, George. I like that.” Blaine followed him the few short
steps to his bedroom.
George turned and
looked him over. “I don’t suppose it’d be a good idea to just
rip that suit off you in a horny haze.”
“I’d appreciate it
if you managed to resist.” The suit cost more than George probably
made in a month.
George pulled a
straight-backed chair away from the wall. “Here…is this good
enough to hang it on, or do you want me to dig a suit hanger out of
“The chair’s fine.”
Blaine shrugged out of
the jacket as George walked into the bathroom. The sounds of water
splashing into a sink drifted out as Blaine worked on his tie and
shirt buttons. What the hell was George doing? Brushing his teeth?
That was new. He’d brushed before heading to the bar and popped a
few mints on the way here, but hookups often didn’t bother, so he
tended to avoid mouth-to-mouth contact.
He unbuckled his belt
and stepped out of his pants. After folding them carefully, he placed
them over the back of the chair, then hung his jacket over the top.
He lay his shirt, tie, and socks on the chair seat, leaving him
standing in his boxers and undershirt.
When George reentered
the room, something flew through the air toward Blaine. He caught it
and stared at a small, cheap toothbrush in a plastic wrapper.
“I like to kiss.”
George winked, then pulled his T-shirt over his head. Jesus fucking
Christ. “King Kong” certainly was an apt nickname for the man.
George had more fur on his body than could be found in all of Beverly
Blaine had never been
attracted to bears. Hopefully he’d be able to get it up for the
man. George was a nice enough guy, with all the personality
characteristics Blaine looked for in a man, so he didn’t want to
When Blaine stepped out
of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, George was down to his
boxer briefs and had drawn back the bedspread. There were no wrinkles
on the sheets. Blaine smiled his appreciation for the fresh bedding.
George straightened up
and returned the smile. “It always bothers me when I go to
someone’s place and the bed has more life growing on it than a
Petri dish.” His grin widened. “Sex might be grubby, but the
sheets don’t need to be—at least not ’til after.”
George removed Blaine’s
undershirt, tossing it toward the chair. Blaine’s eyes widened, and
he stiffened slightly as George placed a large hand on his jaw and
moved in for a kiss.
Minty-fresh breath and
warm lips softly caressed his own. Blaine relaxed and closed his
eyes, relishing the rare peaceful sensations radiating through him.
He found his hands lightly holding George’s waist without
remembering how they’d gotten there. George’s other hand landed
on his shoulder, then moved to cup the back of his neck as the kiss
Blain moaned when
George pressed their hips together, bewitched to discover how
effortlessly he’d gotten aroused. Opening his eyes when George
broke the kiss, Blaine found the man grinning mischievously.
George shook his head.
“Nothing. Just pleasantly surprised.”
That made two of them.
No shocker that George hadn’t expected much from this hookup,
either. Neither of them was likely to be a typical pickup by the
George gestured toward
the bed. “Come on. Skivvies off.”
Skivvies? Blaine lifted
his eyebrows, but he did like George’s assertiveness. He generally
went home with men he sensed were tops, because he preferred to be
the one getting fucked. But his personality—or perhaps his
appearance—seemed to intimidate them so they weren’t particularly
aggressive. Not George, though.
Blaine slid down his
boxers and tossed them onto the rest of his clothes. When he turned
to the bed, George was naked and sitting cross-legged in the middle.
He raised an eyebrow and crooked a finger.
Blaine had barely
climbed onto the bed when George hauled him into his arms. George
leaned back, dragging Blaine on top. God, the man felt solid beneath
him. Muscular arms drew him down for another kiss. This time less
soft, but still far from forceful.
The beard and mustache
tickled Blaine’s face, and the hair covering George’s body was
incredibly stimulating. His nipples peaked against the abrasive rub.
Blaine ground his cock against George’s, and his lips parted easily
when the man pressed in with his tongue.
effortlessly, George maneuvered over him. Blaine wound his arms
around George, hands settling on the man’s solid back. This time
Blaine’s mouth sought George’s and welcomed the now-commanding
offensive that the man returned.
Blaine moaned and
arched, rubbing against the amazing stimulation a large hard body
covered in coarse hair provided. He couldn’t get enough
skin-to-skin contact. He met the tongue invading his mouth with equal
force, and the growly groan reverberating through George’s chest
sent shivers through Blaine.
Suddenly George leaned
back on his heels, then stretched, reaching for his bedside table.
“Christ, Blaine,” he panted. “What is it about you?”
Him? Fuck. What
was it about George? Blaine propped up on his elbows. He was
hard as nails, already leaking like a damned teenager anticipating
sex for the first time. He rolled over as George came back with lube
and a condom.
He closed his eyes and
fought to settle his breathing. He was not going to come
thirty seconds after being penetrated, goddammit. A rustling of paper
told him the condom wrapper was being torn open, and he imagined
George’s large hands slowly rolling the latex over that thick cock.
Then came the snap of the lube top and a pause as George slathered
himself with the fluid.
Warm lips nipped at
Blaine’s neck as a cool, slick-covered cock teased along the crack
of his ass. Then the warmth of George’s body disappeared, and he
was unceremoniously flipped onto his back.
Blaine didn’t object
to a little manhandling—he rather liked that—but face to face?
George’s mouth nibbling his Adam’s apple sucked the protest from
Blaine’s lips and replaced it with a primal groan. Legs spayed out,
Blaine’s knees bent naturally and he pushed his erection against
George’s hairy belly.
When George pressed
home, Blaine relaxed to welcome him. George sat back and lifted
Blaine’s hips, pushing in, slowly filling him.
Fully seated, George’s
weight settled on strong arms on either side of Blaine’s torso, and
he leaned down to resume the assault on Blaine’s mouth. One of
Blaine’s arms wound around George’s waist, and the other settled
on the man’s chest as his hips rocked upward to meet teasingly
Sweat trickled down the
side of Blaine’s neck. Some of it was his own, but George’s
perspiration dripped onto him as well. That typically would have
bothered him, but now it sent a thrill through his body, energizing
Blaine’s heart raced,
and George’s beat furiously against his palm. Blaine gasped into
George’s mouth when the larger man adjusted angles and deepened his
drives. Tightening his grip around George, Blaine pitched his body
erratically upward, then shook. George moved his lips to Blaine’s
neck, allowing Blaine’s moan free rein as hot spunk shot into the
sweaty press of their grinding abs.
body tensed. He growled into Blaine’s ear while his thick shaft
pulsed in Blaine’s ass, shooting its load into the condom. Time
seemed to stand still for a moment before George pulled out and
disposed of the condom. He fell to the side, dragging Blaine along.
Blaine pressed soft
kisses to George’s chest, as he lay cocooned in the large man’s
solid embrace. Breathing hard, he smiled, remembering George’s
words. “Hard, sweaty, and grubby” was right—and it was the most
deeply satisfying sex he’d ever had.
His limbs felt heavy
and the ambient sounds of the night muted as if far away. As he
relaxed in the nest of George’s arms, he closed his eyes, just for
* * * *
When Blaine next opened
his eyes, he viewed the patch of sunlight on the mattress where
George should have been. He sat bolt upright, looked around the room,
and groaned, putting a hand to his heart. He’d spent the entire
night in a hookup’s bed.
He got up, snagged his
undergarments from the chair, and made his way into the bathroom. He
was thankful for the toothbrush. He used the toilet, splashed cold
water onto his face, and ran wet fingers through his hair.
Back in the bedroom, he
pulled on his clothes and listened for signs of George. Nothing.
Either the apartment was empty or George was being quieter than the
proverbial church mouse.
A note on the door
explained that George had a job to finish that morning, and that
Blaine should turn the lock on the doorknob and not worry about the
deadbolt when he left. No problem. Indeed, avoiding an awkward
morning-after “sorry I fell asleep and invited myself to spend the
night in your bed” conversation was definitely not a problem.
* * * *
Before scanning the
room, Blaine’s gaze fell on the stools at the bar. It stunned him
to admit his disappointment that George wasn’t there, but it
shouldn’t have been a surprise. The very fact he’d returned to
the same bar where he’d met George the previous Friday should have
been a clue.
The fact that he felt
disappointed, despite there being a number of suitable singles
prowling the dimly lit room, hit him like a brick wall. Suitable?
What did that even mean to him now?
He found an empty bar
stool and sat.
The bartender stood in
front of him. “Skinny Pirate, right?” The man had earned his
Blaine sighed and gazed
around the room. He spotted a few men he’d gone home with before
but wouldn’t hook up with again, and another that he’d been with
and would typically consider as a possible repeat. The man caught his
eye and started toward him.
Christ, why was that
his instinctive reaction? Double fuck. Fucking King Kong
getting under his skin. He should leave with this man and put George
out of his mind once and for all.
“Hey. Blaine, isn’t
He supposed it was a
good sign that the man remembered his name. Sadly, he couldn’t
return the compliment. “That’s right. I’m sorry…”
The man smiled
“Right. Sorry, I’m
usually pretty good at remembering names.”
“Guess I wasn’t
that memorable, then. Damn.”
“No, no. I remember
you. Just…shit. Got something on my mind right now.”
laughed. “I recognize that lost look. You’ve got someone
on your mind, man.”
Blaine barked a short
laugh. “I’m not generally that readable, but yeah, that’s
pretty much it.” His drink arrived, and he turned to settle up.
Aaron laid a hand on
Blaine’s shoulder. “Well, good luck with that. See you around,
Blaine’s reply was absentminded. He knew in his heart that he
wouldn’t have gone home with Aaron even if the man had asked.
What the hell was he
going to do, though? If he wasn’t going to move on with another
hookup, then he needed to do something. Pursue George? Fucking date?
Hell, what had George thought of him? Would George even be
interested in a second hookup, let alone want to try a relationship?
Blaine took a drink of
his rum and diet cola and decided what he wasn’t going to
do. He wasn’t going to haunt the fucking bar where they’d
met hoping to run into the man, and he wasn’t going to show
up on George’s doorstep unannounced. A last name would have been
nice. Or a phone number. Maybe the bartender knew George.
Blaine drained his
glass and set it down.
It took the bartender
less than a minute to notice. “More of the same?”
“Actually, no. I’m
hoping you might have some information for me.”
The bartender raised
his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.
Blaine took a deep
breath. “Ah, there was a man in here last Friday. Big guy. Bald
head, scraggly beard.”
The bartender nodded.
“George. The guy you left with.”
“Right. I’d like to
get in touch with him. Got an address, of course, but neglected to
get a phone number.”
“’Fraid I can’t
help you out with that one.”
Can’t? Or won’t?
Either way, it was a dead end.
“I hadn’t seen him
around before,” Blaine commented. “Does he come in here often?”
The bartender grinned.
“I’ve been here only a few months. Last week was the first time
I’ve seen you around, but I generally see George two or
three times a month.” He glanced at his watch. “I think he’d be
here by now if he was going to show tonight.”
The man was forthcoming
enough. Maybe it really was “can’t.” “Would you be willing to
pass on a message next time you see him?”
The bartender shrugged.
“I could do that.”
Blaine pulled out a
business card. “Give him this. Tell him I’d like for him to call
“Will do.” The man
stashed the card under the bar.
“Thank you. Hey, I
will take one more of those.”
The bartender nodded
and made another Skinny Pirate.
Blaine liked his plan.
There were ways he could discover George’s phone number, of course,
but he’d rather leave the decision in George’s hands. Blaine
downed the fresh drink a little too quickly, left a tip that should
keep the business card from being forgotten, and went home to his
* * * *
What the hell was the
matter with him? Blaine couldn’t help questioning his own sanity as
he found himself standing again just inside the door, scanning the
barroom for a particular, familiar face. He was acting like a
lovesick fool. He’d just about convinced himself to turn around and
go home when his gaze landed on the man at the far end of the bar.
George leaned forward,
chin on one hand, staring at a small card in his other. He slowly
spun the card around, tapping each side in turn on the bar. His head
rolled to the side, as if he couldn’t quite fathom what he was
casually dressed man chose that moment to plop down on the empty
stool beside George and speak to him.
George sat up straight
and slid the card into the front pocket of his well-worn plaid shirt.
He smiled at the man and said something back.
What the man uttered
next must have been amusing, because George laughed.
The verbal exchange
continued for a few moments before George lay a hand on the man’s
shoulder and shook his head, smiling kindly.
They stood and hugged.
Then the man wandered off and George sat, took a swig of his beer,
pulled the card from his pocket, and stared at it again.
moving his legs, Blaine found himself halfway across the room before
he could talk himself out of it. He took a deep, calming breath,
straightened his already erect posture, and closed the distance.
Apparently not noticing
him, George didn’t immediately look over when Blaine sat on the
recently vacated stool.
The bartender came
over. “Skinny Pirate, Blaine?”
George started and
turned to him, casually tucking the card into his shirt pocket.
Blaine nodded to the
bartender, then looked at George.
usually surprise me, Blaine, but you’ve done it a couple times
“I don’t mind
sayin’, I didn’t hold out much hope for a particularly good time
a couple weeks ago. I know I was a last resort for you, too.”
George grinned. “We might as well be honest and say that neither of
us is the other’s usual type.”
Blaine smiled. “Yeah,
that’s true enough.”
“I was pleasantly
surprised. I had a great time with you on all levels. I got the
feelin’ you did, too, but I still didn’t expect to hear from you
surprised me, too. I sure never expected to come back to the same
place a second—let alone a third—week in a row, hoping to run
into you, let alone take steps to contact you.”
“How do you picture
this playin’ out?”
Blaine swallowed. He
had no fucking idea. “This is new territory for me.”
One side of George’s
mouth quirked upward. “Well, I can’t say I haven’t tried the
relationship thing before. Hasn’t worked out for me yet, but I keep
tryin’. Let me ask you this…why me? What’s the draw? ’Cause
if it’s just that the sex was extra good, I can tell you right now
it won’t be enough to make it work in the end.”
“I know. I’ve
thought about it, believe me. I’m not sure I can put my finger on
it, but I know there’s more to it than just great sex. You’re
none of the things that have bothered me about other men, George. I
like your style, the way you carry yourself.”
“Our lives are worlds
apart. I don’t know if it’ll work.”
“Neither do I. We
don’t know much of anything about one another yet, but I don’t
know that it won’t, either.” Blaine took a drink of his Skinny
Pirate. “We’re not as far apart as you might think. I was raised
blue collar. My father was a welder.”
George chuckled and
widened his eyes. “Can you bowl and everything?”
Blaine laughed. “I
was tops in my league. I’m fairly confident I wouldn’t embarrass
you on the lanes.”
surprise me. I wasn’t so much worried about you embarrassing me,
“You’ve got no
worries, George. The people I work with? They run the gamut
themselves, and so do their spouses and dates. Trust me, they weren’t
all raised with silver spoons in their mouths. I have to attend
plenty of social events in my line of work and would have no qualms
having you by my side.”
George sat there a
moment staring at him, slowly nodding. “I believe you.”
“Worth a shot?”
Blaine held his breath.
A grin spread across
that tanned, ruggedly handsome face. “Yeah, worth a shot.”
They stood, and George
pulled him in for a hug. Blaine wound his arms around George’s
torso and up to the big man’s shoulders, then felt his chin tipped
back for a kiss.
When the kiss broke,
Blaine smiled into George’s eyes. “My place?”
“Sure, what the hell.
Might as well find out now just how far out of my league you are,
define leagues, Kong.”
George dropped an arm
around his shoulders. “That’s King Kong to you, matey.”
Blaine laughed and held
George’s waist as they walked toward the door.
Out of the corner of
his eye, Blaine saw Aaron approach the bar and slap down bills in
front of the bartender. He could just make out Aaron’s words. “You
win the bet, but I know you’re a damned cheater. No way you pegged
that match-up without some inside knowledge.”
Blaine looked up at
George and smiled when the big man winked. No way he would
have predicted it, either.
* * * *
ABOUT ADDISON ALBRIGHT
Addison Albright lives
in the middle of the USA with three peculiar cats. Her stories are
gay (sometimes erotic) romance, and tend to be sweet man-love in
contemporary settings. Her education includes a BS in Education with
a major in Mathematics and a minor in Chemistry. Addison loves
spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, french
fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate.
She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and
anywhere. For more information, visit authoraddisonalbright.com.
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