The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 01

Author's note: This is a spinoff from the completed series called 'Gorilla and the Metalhead', focusing largely on two minor characters from the latter part of the tale. Carlos, one of the two main characters in that story, will feature as a minor character in this narrative. Some of the details in this first chapter reference events that took place in the final few chapters of 'Gorilla', but it's also intended to be read as a separate story.

*

OK, so just in case you've never heard of them before, let me tell you all about Boipussy.

Boipussy are a five-piece heavy metal band from Miami. They're trying to break into the music business and make it big. They've been playing live for about a year and a half, and while they've stirred up some interest in Florida and some other nearby states, they're still waiting and hoping for that big break. They recorded some demos a few months back, but the engineer was a total fucking douche who didn't know the first thing about capturing the energy and intensity of a metal band. When they eventually heard the final mix, they were pissed. They were so shitted off with the quality of the recording that they threw the CDs away into a river like they were frisbees. The original plan had been to send copies to local radio stations and record labels, hoping to drum up some interest in their sound, but these discs weren't even useful as drink coasters. They'd find a better place to record next time.

Ace, Boipussy's lead singer, is hot as fuck. Long blonde hair and shining blue eyes, the merest hint of stubble on his chin, a denim jacket worn over the top of a skin-tight black t-shirt that make his pierced nipples poke out, and tight denim jeans that have the exact same effect on his groin. His gimmick is to play every gig with a buttplug jammed up his boipussy -- that's how they got the name for their band. At each show, before launching into their last song of their set, Ace unbuckles his jeans, pulls them down, and shows off the thick piece of plastic wedged deep inside his sweaty cornhole. Sometimes, before launching into their final tune of the night, he extracts the plug and gives it a deep suck.

They've been on the road for a few nights. This morning, Ace is feeling a little hungover from one too many beers after last night's show. He's texting Pete, who plays drums in a four-piece metal outfit from Atlanta called Ass To Mouth. Their band logo is 'A2M', drawn like a medieval coat of arms, where the four quadrants of the shield depict a big dick, a puckered anus, a wet mouth, and ... some tadpoles.

Pete is cute as hell. Shoulder length red hair, an insanely kissable pouty mouth, the most beautiful constellation of freckles known to man strewn across his nose and cheeks, and a long, fat, wet tongue that would drive most men to ecstatic death. Pete was, without a doubt, the best cocksucker in the local metal scene.

Despite his insane oral skills, Pete's been single for a long time. His band plays regularly at a place called Eternal, a venue in Atlanta that caters to headbangers, goths, punks, rivetheads and the like. He's had the biggest crush since like forever on his band's own lead singer, Carlos, a sexy long-haired Mexican dude who often performs wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off jeans and a pair of tall leather boots. Perched upon his drum riser, Pete has the best view in the house as Carlos's ass bucks and sways in time with the music.

Everyone told Pete how good he was at sucking dick, but he could never work out why he couldn't land a steady boyfriend of his own. He knew he wasn't ugly, so was he just incredibly unlucky? Was he just a convenient mouth and tongue? Was he always the wrong dude in the wrong place, at the wrong time, sucking the wrong cock?

Everything in his life seemed to change the night he met Ace. A few weeks ago, Boipussy and Ass To Mouth had played a double bill at Eternal, and after the show, Pete and Ace chatted about music in the dressing room. After a while, they locked eyes, and Ace leaned forward to kiss Pete's cheek. "I like you," he said. Pete responded, and as Ace felt Pete's eager tongue swirling around in his mouth, shockwaves travelled down his spine to his cock. Their kiss ended, and a thin rope of saliva connected their lips. "I think you're cute," Ace whispered.

Later that night, Pete invited Ace and Carlos back to his apartment for some beers. Pete's long-term crush on Carlos evaporated that night. After Carlos left for the evening, Pete and Ace showered together. They fucked under the warm water, then after they dried off, they went to bed and fucked some more until dawn. Then, after waking up in each other's arms, Ace sucked Pete's dick and jerked him off onto his face. Pete couldn't remember the last time he woke up next to a warm body in his own bed, and he would've sworn he'd never had a good-morning blowjob from anyone before.

After Ace cleaned himself up and got dressed, he was back on the road, heading to Boipussy's next gig. Pete was already falling for Ace after a single evening, but he worried that Ace might be a roadslut who said and did the right things in the moment, but then moved onto the next town in search of a fresh conquest. Pete had been single for far too long, and he didn't want to get ahead of himself, but he and Ace had been talking and texting so regularly over the past few weeks that Pete's initial worries began to recede. But even so, it's hard to feel confident when you've only known the other person for a couple of weeks, and you've spent most of that time in different states.

You know that feeling when you meet someone new? You can't get enough of them, and you think about them constantly when they're not around? Pete missed Ace terribly. He was a sensible kind of guy, and he didn't believe in love at first sight, but on the other hand, he'd been single for a very long time. He was already head over heels, but at the same time, he was expecting to have his heart broken before too long.

A2M had temporarily halted their touring plans while Carlos tried to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. He was still trying to process the unexpected and untimely death of Gorilla, his boyfriend. Gorilla was an interstate truck driver who died in a massive road accident just a few short weeks ago. His rig smashed into the side of an interstate freight train at full speed. Carlos still didn't know what happened that day to cause the accident, and perhaps he'd never know, but the horrific images from that night's news bulletin would be etched onto his brain forever.

Carlos hired a car and drove up to Delaware to find Gorilla's grave. He wanted to talk with him one last time. And in the relentless, driving rain, he left his precious guitar at his graveside as a tribute.

Carlos was in no headspace to perform right now, and some days it was enough of a struggle for him just to get out of bed. He was living through nights of dark black sleep, and most mornings, the first thing he felt upon waking was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he returned to consciousness and remembered who he'd lost.

Boipussy were out on the road, and it was 11am on a Tuesday morning when Ace picked up his phone to message Pete. By night, Pete was the metal drummer from hell, but in daylight hours, he studied law. Today, he was in the office as part of his internship. He was studying a piece of legal research that was boring him to tears. He heard his phone vibrate and instantly accepted the distraction.

Ace: fuck man im so hungover after last night

Pete: good show?

Ace: yeah man ... only thing missing was u

Pete: i know what u need

Ace: whats that

Pete looked around the office to make sure nobody was watching him. He held his phone up to his mouth, flopped out his fat tongue, and took a pic. He sent it to Ace, his tongue hanging out as if desperate to be drenched in seed.

Ace: fuck u read my mind ... hey, we're playing in atlanta soon, u busy?

Pete: ill have to check my calendar

Ace: ill put you on the door, you can be my special VIP access all areas ... and i *do* mean all areas :p

Pete: oww youre twisting my arm!! :) cant wait to c u again dude

Ace sent a red heart emoji, and Pete responded with one of his own.

Ace: gonna try to go back to sleep, dude -- i feel like shit -- we need to be back on the road by 2 so i wanna get a lil more shuteye

Pete: drink some water

Pete tried to turn his mind back to his legal research, but it was always difficult to refocus after a text conversation with Ace. He stared out the window, daydreaming. His supervisor walked past his desk, noticing Pete's current lack of interest in the work piled up on his desk.

Pete left the office at lunch, catching the elevator down to the lobby. He'd planned to go for a walk to suck in some fresh air and to clear his mind, but it was raining, and he wasn't in the mood for getting wet or cowering under an umbrella. He grabbed a pre-made salad sandwich from the nearest coffee shop and returned to his desk, and with the bravest of wills, made it through until 5 o'clock.

After leaving the office, he grabbed some dinner in town before heading home. He texted Ace.

Pete: hows ur hangover

Ace: made it to the venue, had a beer or 2, and we're ready to rock!

Pete: is ur buttplug in?

Ace: not yet, i always get a little nervous before we take the stage, so ill probably take a quick dump soon

Pete: TMI

Ace:?

Pete: too much information

Ace: haha sorry about that ... anyway gotta go, gonna msg you after we're done

Pete wished he was there, front row centre, watching Ace rock the house. He didn't expect to hear from him for another couple of hours, but unexpectedly, he received another message. He opened it, and watched as Ace slid his buttplug into his boipussy.

Pete couldn't help himself. He unbuckled his pants, jerked himself off, and came everywhere.

*

Friday morning rolled around. Pete didn't go to the office on Fridays because he had law classes at college. As lunchtime approached, his phone pinged with a message from Carlos.

Carlos: hey dude

Pete: hey, how you feeling?

Carlos: feels like im gonna feel sad forever ... each day is better than the last, i guess, but not by much

Pete: you want some company? come to the campus, let's have lunch together

Carlos: yes!

They met half past twelve and hugged forever. They ordered some food and grabbed a coffee each before finding a table.

Pete knew lunch today wasn't about calories, it was about conversation and connection. "How are you holding up?" Pete asked.

"Fuck, man, I don't know ... yeah ... I guess I'm OK," Carlos replied. He didn't want to say that some days the pain of Gorilla's passing hurt so much he wished he was dead too, just to make the agony stop. He told Pete that he drove up to Gorilla's grave recently and left him his guitar.

"That's a really special gesture, man," said Pete. His heart was breaking for Carlos's loss.

"I loved him, Pete. I should've told him. He was my best friend. And now it's too late." Carlos didn't shed fresh tears, he'd already shed enough. His eyes were dry, but the pain and sadness of his recent loss was still written all over his face. Carlos changed the conversation. "How's Ace? You two still keeping in touch? Are Boipussy still out on the road?"

Pete's mood brightened a little, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards. "Yeah, man. We talk and text every single day. Boipussy played Daytona Beach a couple of nights ago to a bunch of fratboys. I bet he's got some stories from that show! He mentioned last night that they'll be back in Atlanta soon. I should check their website to find out when."

"I already checked," Carlos answered. Pete had forgotten that Carlos worked at Eternal. "They're playing on Sunday night."

"Awesome!" As if on cue, Pete's phone pinged. It was a message from Ace.

Ace: u busy tonite, sexy georgia boi? can i take u out on a hot date?

Carlos noticed Pete's face explode into a wide grin as his fingers danced across the screen of his phone.

Pete: u comin to atlanta?

Ace: im at the airport right now, so as long as the flight's on time i'll be there in a few hours

They made plans. Ace had been to Pete's apartment before, but just to be sure, Pete texted his address.

Carlos's life was a fucking misery right now. His soulmate had died unexpectedly, and the fact he'd posthumously given him his guitar meant A2M couldn't perform or rehearse for the foreseeable future. He'd need to buy a new axe first. But at least he had a good job at Eternal with friendly, supportive people who understood what he was going through. Yet at the same time, he was genuinely happy for Pete, who seemed to have finally found someone.

They finished lunch, and they hugged again before departing. Carlos planned to spend a few hours wandering around the city before starting his evening shift at Eternal. Pete went back to class.

*

Pete was on his way home from campus when his phone pinged.

Ace: hey dude ive just landed in atl c u soon

This was gonna be the best weekend ever. Pete arrived at his building, rode the elevator and opened his apartment door. His tutorial work which was due for next week could go to hell and die in a garbage fire. He frantically tidied up the living area, but the kitchen was a mess: the sinkful of unwashed dishes would have to wait.

The intercom buzzed. "It's the FBI, the building's surrounded!" joked Ace. "Open the fuck up!"

Pete laughed. "I surrender! Come up to level 8 and cuff me." He pressed the button that opened the building's front door and granted elevator access to a guest.

A moment later, Pete heard a quiet knock at the door. There, standing on the doormat, was Ace.

"Come in," said Pete. His heart was pounding.

Ace stepped inside and hugged him. "I missed you," he whispered. Their hug turned into a wet, steamy kiss, and within moments, their clothes were a disorganised pile of cotton and denim in a corner of Pete's living room.

Pete led Ace to his bedroom. They got under Pete's comforter and kissed, but their kissing raised the temperature of the room, and the comforter soon found itself kicked off the bed, discarded on the floor.

With the bedclothes crisis now successfully dealt with, they wrapped their arms around each other again. Pete didn't know why Ace had come to Atlanta so soon if their gig wasn't until Sunday night. "I'm so glad you're here, Ace," he wept. He'd spent so much mental energy lately worrying about Carlos that he'd begun to forget his own needs and desires. He felt deliriously happy right now.

"I'm glad I'm here too," Ace replied. He looked around. "This room feels familiar in some way. Have I been here before?" he joked.

Pete grinned. He grabbed the back of Ace's neck and urgently pulled his face towards his own. His tongue probed the depths of Ace's mouth.

'Don't say it,' Pete told himself. 'Don't tell him. I know you want to, but just don't. Don't say the word. Don't tell him that you think you love him. It's way too soon, and you'll only confuse him and scare him off.'

Ace broke the kiss and gazed deep into Pete's eyes, stroking his cheek. They hadn't been in each other's physical presence for a few weeks, but Pete had never been far from Ace's mind. "I need to tell you something."

Pete waited.

"I think ... I think I love you, Pete."

Pete gasped. His resistance exploded into dust. "I think I love you too, Ace."

They kissed again, but slowly, and much more tenderly. They each knew where they stood with each other, and in this moment, it felt like only two people existed in the world.

That is, until someone in a neighbouring apartment set a smoke detector off, which triggered the building evacuation system. The 'alert' tone blared from Pete's ceiling. "I can't fuckin' believe this," he said, shaking his head. "We need to get dressed."

"But what if it's just a false alarm?"

"It probably is," Pete replied, "but the firemen won't get from the station to the panel in three minutes, and it'll flip over to the 'evacuate' tone automatically. It always happens that way."

They sorted out their clothes, got dressed, and headed down to the street. Ace didn't bother putting his shoes back on, choosing to casually pad down to ground floor with bare feet. They stood and waited, not hugging but still touching, just close enough to feel each other's presence. Pete casually nodded towards some of his building acquaintances. The fire engine turned up, and yep, it turned out to be a false alarm.

The officials gave the residents the all-clear. People began filing back inside, but the lobby was quickly crowded. Eventually, Ace and Pete squeezed their way into an elevator. They were crammed up against each other like sardines. Neither of them complained.

"Where were we," Ace asked loudly as the jam-packed elevator rose, "before we got so rudely interrupted?"

"I can't be certain, but I think you and I were just about to fuck," Pete responded.

Everyone else in the elevator stopped talking. The silence was deafening.

"Mmm," replied Ace. "Hot gay sex. Fuck yeah. I'm always eager for some of that."

An elderly god-fearing conservative in the opposite corner of the elevator would've fainted, if only there was enough room to fall over. "Well, I never," she declared.

"Well, maybe you should've," Ace glared. "Fucking ugly bitch," he muttered under his breath as the doors opened on level 8. Pete and Ace squeezed their way out into the corridor before the elevator continued its steady rise.

Pete opened his apartment door and closed it behind them. This time, they undressed slowly. "Don't burn any fucking toast, Pete," Ace joked. "I don't wanna have to live through that again."

Pete smiled. "Come here, sexy." He ran his fingertips through Ace's long, blonde hair. Their fingers entwined, closely followed by their tongues. "Come back to bed with me."

They lay down on the bed, side by side. Ace retrieved Pete's comforter from the foot of the bed and dragged it up across their naked bodies. It formed a cocoon, protecting them from the rest of the world. Ace pulled it way up over their heads, and their toes poked out from the bottom. Light was fragmented and diffused. Heat accumulated as they smelled each other's scent. Their eyes adjusted to the relative darkness. Everything was perfect. They each silently hoped the other didn't fart.

"I meant what I said before, Pete," Ace whispered.

Pete desperately, desperately, fucking desperately wanted to hear it again. He *needed* to hear it again. "I totally forgot what you said," he lied, grinning from ear to ear.

"I think I love you, Pete. It seems crazy. I didn't believe in love at first sight, I always thought that shit only ever happened in cheesy Hollywood movies, but here I am, and ... everything feels right. There's nowhere in the world I'd much rather be right now than lying under your stinky comforter."

Pete giggled, wrapping his arms around Ace's naked back like he never wanted to let him go. "I think I love you too. I was thinking the exact same thing after you left a few weeks ago, because the whole idea of falling for someone when you've only known them for a few short weeks seems insane, but ..."

Ace interrupted Pete's thought by rolling on top of him. His cock was hard enough to break glass. He kissed Pete's neck before moving down to feast on his incredibly sensitive nipples. Pete threw his head back onto his pillow and moaned. "I want you in me so fucking bad," he whispered. "Please fuck me, Ace."

Ace spied the half-full bottle of lube on Pete's bedside table. He dripped some onto his fingers and massaged Pete's hungry pussy before dribbling some more onto his dick. He stroked himself once or twice, just to make sure he was fully coated.