JJ's Electronics Store Xmas Party

"Earth to Nick. You were telling me you were staying at the university over the Christmas break and were looking for work over the holidays."

"Uh, sorry, Cliff," I said. "I was distracted."

We were walking across the front of the Edmon Low Library on the Oklahoma State University's quad in Stillwater, Oklahoma, where Cliff Matthews and I were both sophomores—Cliff in the sports management program and I in sports media. Cliff was local, so he'd be here over the Christmas break anyway. My folks lived in Miami, and I saw no reason to go to Florida for Christmas. Besides not wanting to shell out for the trip, I needed money more than I needed sharing Christmas with my parents who were separating anyway. Christmas with them would be like being in a war zone and constantly being asked to pick sides. What I needed was a seasonal job. Cliff had mentioned he had one. I wondered what sorts of temporary jobs they'd have here in Stillwater.

"Distracted by what? That hunk over there?" He gestured toward a strutting god of a guy who had paused on the walkway leading to the Spears Business School and was rummaging through his backpack. I recognized the guy. He was a senior. He was a tackle on the OSU football team but, most notably, he was a state championship wrestler, OSU having a premier program in this, not to mention hosting the National Wrestling Hall of Fame on campus. Most significant was that he had the magnificent, heavy muscled body to go with the sport. I'd seen a couple of his wrestling matches. Body beautiful, meltingly showcased by sexy, form-fitting wrestling singlets. He really filled out the pouch of one of those. I definitely would not have minding going through the wrestling moves with him.

A guy's body was what did it for me—if something was going to arouse me. I didn't have all that much experience. I wasn't an easy lay or anything—not normally—at least I didn't see myself as that. There'd been a few beach parties in Florida where I'd gone all wild, but everyone was doing it. I didn't think that meant I was easy—not usually.

"Yes, if you must know," I said. I didn't have to be secretive around Cliff. We both were gay, but we both were submissives, so it wasn't a jealousy thing of looking at other guys. Cliff was more active in the lifestyle than I was, though. Stillwater was his home turf. I was still trying to adjust to going to school in Oklahoma. The signaling seemed to be all different here from Florida, which was openly beach candy territory. I wasn't used to having to work at hooking up, not that I did a lot of that even in Florida, so I hadn't done anything here, at least yet. "That's Dennis Duncan, isn't it?"

"Yes. Isn't he gorgeous?"

"Yes, he sure is."

"You two would make a knockout pair," Cliff said in a voice that had a bit of edge to it when the topic of looks came up. I was said to have movie-star, golden-blond looks. It gave me stage presence. I did theater and the sports media program I'd gone into was just one avenue for me to put those looks to use. I could do younger roles, so I got parts that were teenagers but that the producers didn't want to fool with all that paper work involved in employing a minor.

Cliff had a great body—from the neck down. He was always pressing me to go cruising with him because he said I'd attract the men and he'd ride their cocks. He was always joking about that, but under the surface, I didn't think he really was joking. I hadn't cruised with him yet—this edgy aspect to that was probably what was holding me back.

"You want to meet him?" Cliff asked.

"In the worst way," I said. "I've been there a couple of times when he was being interviewed by the university radio. My sports media classes did some of those interviews. But I've never met him. It would be nice. It would be even better if he was a player. He's got the body of a god; it's the muscles that do it for me."

"It's the muscle swinging between the guy's legs that does it for me," Cliff said.

"That too," I agreed.

Cliff laughed. "He is a player. He's a power top. He's hung and he's a god in the sack."

"Go on. Don't tell me he's laid you."

"Why, yes he has. And he's randy as hell. He'd chase you around this quad to get his dick in you if he had any idea you took cock."

"You're just making that up."

"No, he's told me that—about you." That set me back on my heels. "Do you want to meet him?" Cliff asked.

I paused. Of course I wanted to meet him, but did I want to let my tongue hang out over that with Cliff? I didn't have to answer that. I already was standing here with my tongue hanging out over the wrestler.

"There's a plan there," Cliff said. "You just said you wanted to find a temporary job over the Christmas break and wanted to know where I was working mine. We can combine plans. I work at an electronics store in town and I know they're going to want to add on help for the Christmas rush. Where I know Dennis from is the store. He works there too. The store's having a pre-Christmas party for its workers this weekend. Come to the party with me. I'll introduce you to Jay and Jim, who own and run the store, and maybe they'll give you a job. And if Dennis goes to the party, I can introduce you to him then too."

It did sound like the perfect plan.

"Jim and Jay are players too," Cliff added.

"They've both laid you?"

"It's how I got the job."

Now, Cliff definitely was easy, I thought.

* * * *

"Do you fancy that watch?"

I was standing by a display case in JJ's Electronics Store near the corner of East 7th Street and South Main and admiring the Apple wrist watches. Of course I fancied it. One of the store owners, Jim Lewis, had tracked me down and put a hand on my back when he came up behind me. I had come to the office Christmas party with my school friend, Cliff Matthews, who worked here. Cliff was off by the Christmas tree in the front window of the store, the blinds on the windows now being down to give privacy to the party. Cliff was being consulted closely to the point of fondling by the store's other owner, Jay Brown. Together, the men made up the "JJ" of the store title. Both men, probably in their late thirties, were good looking and belonged to a gym.

"Yes, of course I'd like to have a watch like that," I answered. "That's one reason I was wondering if your store was laying on extra help for the Christmas season. I could use some extra money to buy nice things. I go to the university with Cliff and he thought maybe you'd be hiring temporary help. I'm from Florida and staying here at school over the winter break."

"You might not have to get a job to get that Series 6 Apple watch," Lewis said. His hand moved down to palm my butt and I didn't move away. He was sniffing my hair and I was expecting the come-on line of "You smell nice," but he didn't go there. I knew where he was headed, though. I can't say I wasn't flattered. "You're so good looking, you deserve nice things," he murmured into my sideburn. So, he did go there on a standard pickup line.

I was prepared for it. Cliff had said both of the store owners were gay tops and were forward about it.

I'd seen right off the bat this this was "that" sort of Christmas party. Everyone here was male, the blinds on the window were down, the booze was flowing, and the men were friendly, some of them already getting frisky although it was early in the evening. Besides, Cliff had already told me this would be a gay-male hookup party.

The wrestling champ dreamboat, Dennis Duncan, was here, wearing a red mesh athletic T above clingy black-satin pants and Santa boots and a Santa hat, but Cliff hadn't introduced me to him yet. The hunk was inundated with young guys. He had his arms around the shoulders of two of them as he held court over by the punchbowl. I'm sure either one of them would have bent over the table the punchbowl was on for him if he did no more than signal that's what he wanted.

But, then, would I be any different?

"So, do you think you'll be hiring for the Christmas rush?" I asked Mr. Lewis.

"How old are you, Nick?" Lewis asked. I didn't think he was asking just to determine whether I was old enough to hold down a job. I knew I looked borderline. I was a little short for my age and had a boyish look about me, my physique more willowy than muscular. That helped me both on stage and for the modeling jobs I'd gotten in high school back in Miami. I could look younger than I was and take on mid-teen roles.

"I'm nineteen—a sophomore now at OSU. I'm studying sports media and do some theater work. I think I'd be good as a salesman. You've got a lot of nifty electronics here. They nearly sell themselves." I know I was a little gushy, but I'd had a couple of drinks already—strongly laced with vodka—and I was nervous. Lewis hadn't taken his hand from my butt and he was pulled in close to me. Cliff had warned me that I might—no, probably would—have to take the man's cock—and that of the other owner too—to get a job here. And still I'd come to the party and wanted a job.

Taking it wouldn't be all that bad from either one of them. They both were good-looking and built and certainly no older than forty. I had, of course, engaged in some casual sex before—I'd been a beach boy in Miami, and there'd be a payoff to letting these guys lay me. I didn't want them to think I was easy, though.

"Yes, of course, that's how I got my job here," Cliff had said matter-of-factly, like it was just the natural thing to do. And maybe it was close enough.

Lewis reached behind the case and took the Apple Series 6 watch out and put it on my wrist. While still holding my hand in his, his thumb folded under into the palm of my hand, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "Try it on for size, Nick. You let me lay you and the watch is yours. I have to consult with Jay on giving you a Christmas season job here, but you get my vote—if you let me fuck you, if you'll take my cock. Think about it." He kissed me on the ear, and then, with a laugh, he slid away from me.

I answered that I hoped he didn't think I was that easy, but Lewis had already wafted away from me. Blushing, I turned away to see that Cliff had waded in to where Dennis Duncan was holding court and was waving me over for introductions at last.

Cliff was very tactful—and helpful. He introduced me to Dennis and pulled the guys who were hanging on to him away to look at some new electronics that had come into the store.

"So, you're Nick Miller," Dennis said to me when it was just the two of us standing by the punchbowl.

"You say that like you know who I am," I said. "I've seen you. I've been to a couple of your wrestling matches. Cliff tells me you work here. In sales?"

"Yeah, I work here. Not in front, though. I'm on the Geek Squad, working on repairing the stuff brought in—in the back. But I also take the photos."

"The photos?" I asked.

"Yeah, this is a photo shop too. We sell the cameras and other photograph crap and there's a studio in back. We'll develop people's photos for and enlarge them and stuff. We do anything from passport photos to, well, you know, more candid shots—and videos. And, yes, I know who you are. You're at OSU—in the sports media program, I think. I asked Cliff about you."

"You asked Cliff about me?"

"Yeah, you're cute—and sexy. I've seen you running with Cliff. I asked him if you were like him."

"Like him?" I asked. I was almost afraid to know what he meant by that.

"Yeah, whether you took it—like Cliff does. I do Cliff. I wondered if you let guys do you too. Cliff says you will, but he may just have been teasing me."

I didn't know what to say. I'm sure I blushed. He was saying all of the things I wanted to know he was thinking. But he said them out loud, and now that he had said them—or was maybe leading up to say them—it seemed really, really bald, like we shouldn't be having this conversation. Like he'd think I was easy, that he could just lay me, do whatever he wanted with me, and walk off. Like I was some cheap rent-boy. He didn't wait for me to answer, though.

"Cliff told me that you will put out—that you were a bottom—would take cock."

That was the same phrase that Jim Lewis, the owner of the store, had used—would take cock—and I hadn't flinched when he said it. By not saying "no" and walking away from Lewis, I'd indicated I'd let him fuck me to get a free Apple watch and a Christmas-season job. So, would I just give it away to this guy—to this gorgeous hunk I'd masturbated to at night?

"I'm not as easy as Cliff is," I said. "I'm not just a casual lay." The funny thing was that the summer before coming out to Oklahoma, that's exactly what I'd been on the Miami beaches—a casual lay—as soon as I'd turned eighteen. I hadn't gotten into the swing of things here at OSU yet, but . . .

Dennis laughed. "Nobody is as easy as Cliff. You're a real good looker. Cliff tells me you've done some modeling."

"A bit, yes, back in Florida. Just clothing ads . . . mostly."

"Bet you've done some sexy pose shots too."

"Not really. Some underwear and swimsuit shots, but—"

"Well, there you go. You've got the bod to do those." He laughed again and put an arm around me. "Cliff tells me you're trying to get a job here."

"Just seasonal work—over Christmas. I'm staying here for the holidays rather than trying to go back to Miami."

"You'll definitely have to let Jim Lewis fuck you to get that job. I saw him putting the make on you just now." And then, when I didn't say anything—or show this was getting out of hand, since he had a hand on my butt just like Lewis had had before he told me he wanted to fuck me—he added, "Jay Brown will want to lay you too. Have you had black cock before?" I had, but I didn't see the need to say so, and Dennis just kept on talking. "I didn't have to do anything like that to get my job. Jay said I was a male pussy magnet here, so I got a job. Cliff got it by letting them lay him. You'll have to do the same."

"We'll see," I said.

"Which means 'yes,'" he said, laughing again. "So, if you've done some modeling you have no trouble being in front of the camera, right?"

"I've done that, yes."

"You want to see the photo studio. It's in the back. Come to the back with me." He put a grip on my arm and walked me to the back of the shop and through a doorway covered with a beaded curtain. Who was I kidding? I knew where he was leading me. I'd wanted to hook up with him. I was here to party. I meekly followed him through the beaded curtain.

I just didn't want him to get the idea that I was an easy lay.

* * * *

"$300 for a sexy photo shoot, $500 if it's done nude."

"Are you telling me that you have money like that just to see me pose?" I asked Dennis when we got to the photo studio. The studio was tucked away in the back of the electronics store building. It was outfitted with a whole bunch of cameras on tripods, lighting poles, and various posing stations against the walls. It did have a place to take photos for passports, but it also had a studio bed against one wall and a chaise lounge on a platform on another. Beyond that room was a darkroom, so that all of the film development, cropping, and preparation for delivery were right here. Dennis even fired up a computer and showed me the subscription Web site where they downloaded the photos he then told me how much they paid the models to pose for. I wasn't surprised to see that Cliff's photos were there.

"What's this action button for on the Web site?" I had asked. I asked about it teasingly because I knew what sort of photos and videos would be included there. He told me how much models were paid to pose partially dressed and how much nude, but not how much for "action."

"Do you really want to know?" he'd responded. "You'd be interested in doing that?" But then, before I could answer, he addressed my other question. "It's not my money. It's Jim's and Jay's, but they take most of the profit too. They trust me in who to pay to pose, though. I know they wouldn't object to it being you."

"No, tell me. How much for the action shots?"

He laughed. "You told me you weren't easy—not easy like Cliff is."

"I'm curious. That's different from being easy."

"Not much," he said. "Solo action can go to $700. It can go to $1,000 for action videos with me—or with Jim or Jay."

"Jim and Jay do this too?"

"Most assuredly. I think that's why we do it here in the store. Jim and Jay get a kick out of being videoed doing it. If it's me, I get paid too. Don't worry, though, if I did you, I wouldn't charge you anything. You could keep the whole fee."

"Charge me to have sex with you?" I said and laughed. God, he was arrogant. But I suppose he had every right to be so. "If I let you have me, it would be a Christmas present from me to you."

"More likely from me to you," he said. "How about it, though? How about posing for photos?"

"Here? Now? While the party is going on out at the storefront?"

"Sure. Why not? They're probably all paired up now at the party and not paying attention to anything but each other. Over there on the chaise lounge on the platform. I'll cover it with the white cloth, to be snow. Here's a Santa hat and boots. The only other thing you'd need—for a while—are these red silk boxer shorts."

"For a while?" I asked.

"You heard right. You are trying to get a parttime job here because you need money. You can start earning it now and have a good time too."

"I'm not really that easy."

"That watch on your arm. The new Apple Series 6. You didn't walk in here with it on, did you? Jay gave that to you—or is going to give it to you and you're going to let him ball you to get it—you're gonna let him put his big black dick in you to get the watch, aren't you?"

"It was Jim who says he'll give it to me," I said. "I haven't met Jay yet." Just how big was Jay's dick, though, I was thinking.

"But you're going to keep the watch, aren't you? You're going to let Jim fuck you." He pulled his red mesh T over his head. "I won't give you anything, but you'll let me fuck you too, won't you? Cliff told me you have the hots for me. He didn't have to tell me, though. I can see how antsy you are for me to put it in you."

We stood there, facing off, for a long moment. But who was I kidding? The man had the body of a god. I couldn't take my eyes off his muscular chest. "Yes."

"Shall we begin then?"

While he set up the lights, camera, and chaise lounge, I stripped down and put on the hat, boxers, and boots. He fired off a bunch of shots of me in various poses in these on the chaise lounge. Eventually, he came over, leaned over me, and took my mouth with his. His hand glided down my chest, across my belly, and worked its way under the waistband of the boxer shorts. With his other hand, he unbuckled and unzipped his pants and flared the fly open. He took one of my hands and moved it to where I was grasping his thick, long, erect shaft.

He had two video cameras running, capturing the scene from two angles. I was going to go for the $1,000 fee. I didn't care. I'd been melting to Dennis for months, we were moving into the Christmas season, and I had to admit that this would be a present to me.

We were both panting, our bodies undulating against each other, moving into a rhythm and into position. He slipped the boxer briefs off my legs and I spread my legs and raised my pelvis. I brushed his pants and briefs down to his ankles, and he came down onto the chaise lounge with his knees between my thighs. I had his huge erection in my grasp and moved it into place while he put an arm under my waist, raising me into position for a deep slide. He raised my right leg to where my ankle was hooked on his shoulder and I was open and vulnerable to his penetration. His mouth was on my left nipple, feasting on it.

"Now. Now. Put it in. Fuck me," I murmured.