Gorilla and the Metalhead Pt. 09

"You look so sexy right now, Gorilla. You look like such a fucking slut for my cock."

"Umm ... thanks ... I think," Gorilla muttered. He'd never thought of himself as a 'slut' before, and for a few seconds, there was an uncomfortable silence. "Hey, I think I should take a shower," he said.

Carlos smiled. "These are words I never expected to hear you say."

Gorilla looked sheepish. There were other words he never expected to say, and he was still so close to saying them ... so fucking close. He stood up and walked towards the bathroom.

Carlos crept into bed and was asleep as soon as he heard the shower running. His cock was completely spent. He barely even noticed a semi-wet Gorilla lie down next to him, wrapping a damp arm around his shoulder.

*

Tuesday morning arrived. The alarm on Gorilla phone blared. He stretched.

"Get up."

Carlos groaned. "Fuck, man. Way too early. Close the blinds." He rolled over onto his stomach in anticipation of more sleep. "I'm a rockstar, mornings don't exist for me. Treat me with the respect my exalted status deserves."

Gorilla was amazed that a half-asleep and barely conscious Carlos could be so articulate and verbose, but he'd had enough of this. He'd love to sleep in too, but he had to get to work. Last night, he devised a foolproof plan to wake Carlos up, and he decided now was the time to put it into action. He threw the bedsheet onto the floor, exposing Carlos's naked frame and naked ass. 'I'll show you the respect you deserve,' Gorilla thought to himself as he lubed up a finger with saliva and jammed it into Carlos's asshole.

Carlos jumped out of the bed with fright. "What the fuck, man?!?!?"

Gorilla's frame shook with laughter. "You're awake now?"

Carlos was still half-asleep and incredibly confused. "Did you just ... did you just stick your finger in my ass to wake me up?"

Gorilla continued laughing. "Best morning alarm ever." He handed Carlos a cup of freshly-made motel-quality coffee. "Get dressed, we're due at the warehouse in half an hour."

A grumpy Carlos threw some clothes on and brushed his teeth. His unkempt, unbrushed hair was held in place by a baseball cap worn backwards. Gorilla stared at him, absolutely mesmerised. To him, Carlos was the sexiest man on earth, even when he was still half-asleep.

After the warehouse formalities were complete, Gorilla rolled his wheels through the Nashville metropolis, heading for the interstate.

"Fuck that shithole of a town," Carlos declared. He raised his middle finger in the direction of a rapidly receding Nashville.

Gorilla glanced sideways. "You're gonna judge a city on the basis of being there for like half an hour?"

"Yes. Yes I am," concluded Carlos. "And everyone who lives in Nashville is a cunt." End of discussion.

Carlos fished his cell out of his pocket and googled 'boipussy'. Needless to say, the band he was looking for wasn't at the top of Google's search results, and he scrolled through a few pages before he found what he wanted to find. The band's website was primitive, but he found the 'contact us' page, which was what he was looking for. He typed out a message on his phone:

'Hey dudes. Caught your show in Indianapolis a few nights ago, and I thought you fucking rocked! I'm in an Atlanta metal band called 'Ass To Mouth' and I love how the frontman played with a plug up his ass. Fuckin' awesome! I'm gonna try that at our next rehearsal. Anyway, just wanted to say hey and maybe we could meet up and play some shows together. m/ -- Carlos'

Carlos pressed send and took a nap. Gorilla looked across at Carlos from time to time, watching him sleep. His audiobook continued to play.

They stopped for lunch in Chattanooga, and Carlos awoke as Gorilla applied the airbrakes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, man," Carlos apologised, "I'm fucking terrible company on the road."

"You're sexy even when you're asleep, dude," replied Gorilla. "I really don't mind."

They climbed out of the cab and Carlos recognised the significance of their location. "I know the song, but I'm not eating ham and eggs. Eggs are OK, but ..."

Gorilla considered Carlos's dietaries and laughed. "Like most roadhouses in the country, you'll be lucky to get more than a piece of bread to eat here."

They entered the roadhouse and checked the menu. To Carlos's surprise, this place made a haloumi burger. "Get me one of those," he said. "With fries. I'm hungry."

"Coming right up," grinned Gorilla.

Their food arrived quickly and they ate. "Fuck, this is good," Carlos mumbled between hearty bites. "Much better than ham and eggs."

"You know the ham and eggs was in Carolina, right? Not Tennessee?"

Carlos was thrown for a second. "Yeah ... but ... *which* Carolina? There are two Carolinas, but the song isn't specific."

"Fucked if I know. Have you looked at a map of the US lately?"

Carlos was reminded of the map pinned to his wall which he used to track Gorilla's journeys. "Yeah, of course I have ... but why?"

"Well, so the train in the song leaves Penn Station in New York City and goes through 'Carolina', but I'm assuming it's going through North Carolina because right now we're kind of due west of the north-south border. If the train went into South Carolina, it'd need to loop back north to reach its destination."

Carlos looked perplexed. "Who gives a rat's ass?" he shrugged.

Gorilla laughed. "Not me." They continued eating.

They finished lunch and got back on the road. Halfway between Chattanooga and Atlanta, Carlos felt horny. He looked across at the sexy trucker at the wheel, and felt the need to jerk off. "Just keep driving," he said.

Gorilla appeared surprised. "What the fuck else am I expected to do?"

"No ... you don't understand, and it's hard to explain," said Carlos. "Watching you drive this truck makes my groin tingle. Is it ... is it OK with you if I play with myself while you drive?"

Gorilla was confused. "You're right, I don't understand. Let me get this straight. You want to jerk off, just from watching me drive?"

Carlos's pants were already lowered, and his dick was already out and in his hand. "Yeah," he breathed.

It wasn't easy for Gorilla to concentrate on the road while Carlos sat next to him, quietly fapping. He knew how hot this all was, but he didn't really know how to process it. To the best of his knowledge, no other dude on earth had ever found him fapworthy, yet here he was, out on the open road, with a metal rockstar god sitting next to him in his cab, jerking himself off as he drove. Gorilla looked across at the man sitting next to him, his fat brown dick in his hand, with his long, sexy unbrushed hair cascading down his back underneath a ballcap ... none of this made any sense.

"Fuck, you're so hot," whispered Carlos, eyes closed.

'What? Me?' wondered Gorilla. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Such a sexy fucking man." Carlos's eyes were still closed. He felt the rumble of the truck beneath him.

Gorilla drove on, and Carlos continued masturbating.

"Fuck, man," Carlos whispered, eyes still closed. "I love how your fat tongue feels on my pussy when you eat me out. You're gonna make me cum."

Gorilla glanced across at Carlos as a thick, fat load of creamy semen oozed out of his penis, lazily dribbling down his shaft.

Carlos's eyes opened. "Sorry about that," he said.

Gorilla wasn't sure what to say in response. "Thick load, man."

Carlos smiled. He ate as much of it as he could scoop up.

An hour later, Gorilla's truck arrived in Atlanta. The paperwork was completed more quickly than anticipated, and they left the warehouse ahead of schedule.

"I got a room at the Sleep Inn tonight," said Gorilla, "if you wanna stay with me. But I know this is your hometown, and it's cool if you don't want to."

"I got a better idea," Carlos said.

"What's that?"

"Stay at my place. With me. In my apartment."

Gorilla looked confused. "Really?"

"Fuck yeah, dude. Come to my place. It's not very big, but it's been my home for a few years. I'd love to share it with you tonight."

Thoughts of the Atlanta Sleep Inn were immediately banished from Gorilla's mind. "Thanks, man. That'd be awesome."

They hugged. Fuck the Sleep Inn. Carlos flagged a taxi and they piled in. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Carlos's building. Gorilla paid the driver and they disembarked.

Carlos checked his mailbox before entering the building. He extracted a wad of paper. He'd planned to throw it onto the counter once he opened the door, and he'd sort through it in the morning. He swiped his credentials and entered the building.

Carlos pressed the call button for the elevator. He and his guest stood quietly in the lobby as they waited for their ride.

Ding.

Carlos swiped his card inside the elevator and pressed the button for the 5th floor. The ride was short. The doors opened onto a characterless corridor.

"So this is where you live?" Gorilla asked rhetorically.

"Uhh ... yeah ... I guess," replied Carlos. He found his door, turned the key, opened the door, and everything was exactly as he'd left it. He left his bag in a corner of the room. "Sorry about the mess," he apologised. He peeled off towards the bathroom to take a piss. "Make yourself at home."

Gorilla sat on the couch. His eyes were immediately drawn to the guitars stacked in the corner of the room. "Nice axes, man," he said.

Carlos zipped up, washed his hands and returned. He felt a little nervous. "Thanks, dude. So I've got a Gibson SG, solely because that's what Angus Young of AC/DC plays." He picked it up and handed it to Gorilla. "I've got an Ibanez RG because they fucking shred. And I've got a Washburn Parallaxe for the exact same reason, but that's mainly my backup for the Ibanez. You know, like, in case I break a string in the middle of a show." He paused. "And then here's my acoustic." He fished it out. "This is what I write on," he explained.

Gorilla felt privileged to be given this short, guided tour of Carlos's guitars. He was still holding the Gibson SG, unsure what to do with it.

Carlos took the Gibson back from Gorilla, and replaced it with the acoustic. "Do you know any chords?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Umm ... I used to play a little guitar when I was at school," confessed Gorilla, "but that was a long time ago. I think I've forgotten everything."

"It won't take long to bring it back," said Carlos. He sat across from Gorilla. "Do you know how to play a G chord?"

Gorilla's fingertips gingerly found their places, and he strummed.

"Awesome. Now do you know how to play a C chord?"

Gorilla's fingers, reaching back through what seemed like eternity, discovered where they needed to be. He strummed.

"That's cool," Carlos enthused. "Keep playing those two chords." Carlos zoned out for a moment, listening to Gorilla's novice hands strumming G and C. His strumming became more confident and more insistent.

"Fuck, I think I've got a song coming," Gorilla joked. "Too bad I can't sit here and work on it." His tummy rumbled loudly. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, and I think they heard it next door, too, man," laughed Carlos. "Let's get something to eat."

As they left the room, Carlos's phone pinged. It was Pete. Carlos read the message while they waited for the elevator. 'Hey man just reminding you we've got band practice tonite, in case u forgot'. His message ended with the eggplant emoji.

"Fuck, dude," sighed Carlos as the elevator took them back to the ground floor. "I completely forgot. We're rehearsing tonight." It completely slipped my mind and it's too late to cancel. We won't have much time to eat. We're gonna have to get takeout."

Gorilla immediately felt uncomfortable. "Ummm ... then on second thoughts, maybe I should stay at the Sleep Inn. I mean, it sounds like you're busy."

"You can come to band practice with me if you like. I don't think the others will mind."

Gorilla shuffled his feet. He'd seen enough rockumentaries to know that band relationships can become fragile when strangers are present in the room. "Yeah ... thanks ... but I don't want to be the next Yoko Ono, destroying the mood with my sheer presence."

Carlos laughed, and he understood Gorilla's reservations. "OK, I get it. But fuck, man, I feel terrible about this."

"Don't," replied Gorilla. "It happens. It's cool."

"Still, come eat with me before you go," Carlos offered. "I'm hungry too."

They found a fast food chain store and ate their meals in relative silence.

"I'll call you after rehearsal," Carlos said as they put their waste in the trash.

"Only if it's not too late. I'm driving tomorrow."

Right on cue, Gorilla's phone pinged. "Wait a second," he said, reading the message. "Last-minute change of plans. I'm here for two nights now. Another logistical fuck-up. I'm heading to New Orleans on Thursday morning, but I'm here tomorrow night too. Shipment won't be here in time. So you can show me around your shithole of a town tomorrow," he grinned.

"Fuck, man, that's awesome news!" Carlos shouted.

They parted. Gorilla went to check in at the Sleep Inn, and Carlos went home to collect a few things for band practice.

Carlos arrived at the studio on time. Pete was setting up his drum kit. "Hey, Pete."

"Hey."

"Thanks for the reminder about rehearsal, man. I'd completely forgotten about it."

Pete shrugged. He continued setting up his kit.

"Been away a few days," Carlos continued.

"Yeah? Where'd you go?" Pete asked, genuinely interested.

"Caught the bus to Indianapolis a few nights ago and was in Nashville last night."

Pete blinked. "I can't imagine you in Nashville, man."

"Having been there, neither can I. It's terrible."

"How'd you get back?"

"Got a ride on a truck."

It was a vague answer, but Pete asked no further questions. The door opened, and the bass player and the other guitarist entered the room. They began setting up their gear.

A few minutes later, once everyone was satisfied that their amps and effects pedals were working correctly, Pete clicked his drumsticks above his head and the band roared into action. They ran through their live set once, and Carlos was surprised at how good they still sounded, given they hadn't played together in a while. The room was warm, and by the end of their run-through, they were covered in sweat -- just like at a real gig. It was an awesome feeling.

The bass player and guitarist left the room to get some fresh air outside. Carlos adjusted the settings on some of his pedals while Pete, deep in thought, absentmindedly knocked out a slow, quiet rhythm on his kit.

Pete stood up and walked over to Carlos. "Did you eat before you came here?"

"Yeah," answered Carlos.

"Hmm," said Pete. "I didn't get the chance to, and now I'm a little hungry." He placed his hand on Carlos's crotch, feeling his cock growing underneath his denim. "Feed me?" he asked, licking his fat lips.

Carlos could never refuse Pete's mouth. He unzipped his pants and Pete reached in to grasp the fat Mexican dick he'd been craving. He sank to his knees. "Mmm," he hummed as his tongue traced wet circles around the head of Carlos's cock. "You taste so fucking good, dude."

Carlos rested his hands on Pete's head, gently drawing him in. "Nobody gives better head than you, Pete," he sighed.

"I know," mumbled Pete. "I'm the fucking best. And my hot mouth is yours whenever you want it." He took Carlos balls-deep and Carlos threw his head back in pleasure.

Carlos began to slowly fuck Pete's face. He looked down at Pete's shoulder-length red hair and his cute freckles as his skull pistoned back and forth down the length of his dick. Carlos was getting close; Pete's mouth and hands were just too good. He felt his balls begin to boil and he shot a huge, thick load of cream into Pete's throat. Pete swallowed, but some of it spilled out of the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck, your cum tastes so good," Pete whispered. He'd eat it every day of the week if he could. "I'm so in love with your cock."

"I'm in love with your hot mouth, too," said Carlos.

'But not in love with the rest of me, though,' Pete thought to himself. He wanted to be with Carlos so fucking bad. He wiped his face.

The band ran through their set again, just to make sure they were well drilled, before packing up and heading out in search of a couple of cold beers. No upcoming gigs were on the horizon for Ass To Mouth, but Carlos mentioned a band he'd seen interstate called Boipussy. He explained their gimmick -- the frontman played the entire show with a fat plug up his ass -- but then he told them how hard they rocked. He mentioned he'd sent them an email suggesting maybe they could tour together, but that he hadn't received a reply yet.

Carlos finished his third beer and stood up. "Gotta head, dudes."

Pete looked at his watch. "Fuck, is that the time? I gotta go too." He didn't need to be anywhere, he just wanted to talk to Carlos in private.

The other two band members kept drinking as Carlos and Pete headed towards the door. They walked outside.

"Wait, Carlos," pleaded Pete. Carlos stopped walking and faced Pete, waiting for him to speak again, but Pete was suddenly lost for words. He wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees again. Every time he laid eyes on Carlos, he found him sexier and sexier. In this moment, he nearly swooned.

"Uhh ... no ... don't worry about it," Pete stammered nervously. "It's nothing."

Carlos shrugged. "Cool. Drums sounded fucking huge tonight, Pete. Night."

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."

They walked their separate ways. Pete got home and nearly fapped himself to death thinking about Carlos's irresistible body, imagining what it'd be like to kiss his pouty mouth and grope his ass.

Carlos got home and texted Gorilla.

Carlos: u up?

Gorilla: yeah just enjoying the sights and sounds of my motel room

Carlos: come over

Gorilla: now?

Carlos: yeah you said you've got a spare day 2mrw so get a taxi and come over

Gorilla: txt me your address

Twenty minutes later, Gorilla texted to say he was standing in front of Carlos's building. Carlos went down to the street to let him in and bring him up.

"Want a beer?" asked Carlos.

"Sure." Carlos went to the fridge and brought back two bottles. They clinked the glass, and drank.

"How was rehearsal?"

"Good," said Carlos. "We sound really good. I wish we had some gigs to play, but it takes so much time and effort to book a tour."

"Well, you're not working at the moment, are you? So maybe you could organise a tour as your 'job', until you find another job?" Gorilla suggested.

"Fucking great idea," agreed Carlos. "I really shouldn't waste this time, hey."

They faced each other, holding their hands by their sides. Carlos leaned in, slowly, seductively, like slinky thick liquid, and tenderly kissed Gorilla's lips. "Come to bed with me," he said. He took Gorilla by the hand and led him towards his bedroom.

The streetlights gave the room a tender glow.

Carlos undressed Gorilla so sensuously that Gorilla nearly climaxed. He stood next to Carlos's bed, naked and almost painfully erect.

Carlos began to undress himself. He undid the top button of his jeans and turned to face away from Gorilla. He slowly slid the tight denim down, exposing the top of his ass crack. He looked back over his shoulder, sexy long hair cascading down his back, and the look on Gorilla's face was pure, hypnotic lust. Carlos pulled his pants down below his cheeks and bent forward, exposing his naked, juicy hole. Gorilla's cock was dripping and he hadn't even touched it.

Carlos kicked his pants off and turned back around to face Gorilla. All he was wearing now was his t-shirt and socks. He slowly pulled the t-shirt over his shoulders and head, standing naked. Apart from his socks, that is. It's never easy to take socks off seductively, so Carlos left them on.