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Subject: story: M/M/M, "Spaceport Pickup"
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story: MM, "Spaceport Pickup"
Usual warnings apply: no one under 18 admitted without parent or
guardian, for external use only, void where prohibited, shake well
before using, und so weiter.
SPACEPORT PICKUP
by Felix Lance Falkon
Archiving permitted; re-posting is permitted; but only
if you include this statement of limitation of use. The
author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple
copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the
story for their own, non-commercial use.
Copyright (C) 1997 by Felix Lance Falkon.
=========================================
Terry looked up from his seat on the park bench. ``Hi, Garth.
Find anything?''
``Shit,'' said Garth. He scowled down at Terry for a moment, then
settled his wide-shouldered frame on the park bench beside Terry.
``This fucking planet is something th' fuck outa th' twentieth fucking
century. I don't wanta even think about it.''
Terry frowned, letting his gaze drift over his shipmate. The
loose uniform of a Space Patrolman couldn't hide Garth's athletic
physique. Terry took a deep breath, folded his arms across his own
well-muscled chest, and stared moodily at the purple-leafed trees that
shaded the park from this planet's sun. ``I even checked out the
swimming pool; at least this town's big enough to have one. Garth,
you are _not_ going to believe this, but --''
``I'll believe any-fucking-thing about this mudball.''
``-- they wear _clothes,_ in the pool. The men actually wear
short pants when they're swimming. I saw it with my own eyes.
_Clothes.''_
``Fuck it all,'' rumbled Garth. ``We're a lot of fucking parsecs
from Earth, but this is just fucking ridiculous.''
``Be a long two weeks, waiting for our ship to finish getting
serviced here.''
Garth sighed. He stretched his arms out along the back of the
bench, then let his left hand rest lightly on Terry's left shoulder.
``Well, I dropped in on th' spaceport manager. He wanted t' tell me
all about th' scenic beauties of th' fucking Misty Falls and RAM dump
like that. Then I asked him, straight out, where does a stud go for
some quick sex. He spun his tapes a bit, then gave me th' address of a
fucking bar.''
``A bar?'' Terry wrinkled his nose. ``That's a weird place for a
pickup: drinks take the edge off your cordination, and then where are
you? Or are you supposed to do your drinking afterwards?''
``Worse'n that. I figured there was something th' fuck wrong
when I saw everybody in there wearing clothes --''
``You mean, they don't strip down so you can see what you're
getting into?''
``It's_ lots_ worse'n that,'' growled Garth. ``Women.''
``Huh?'' Terry sat up straight and stared at Garth. ``What in
Space are you --''
``Women. Gals. You know: females of th' human species.''
``Just -- just for a casual romp? If my wife ever did a thing
like that with another man --''
``And if _my_ wife ever caught me even _thinking_ about a quick
roll with another woman, she'd burn my balls off with a fucking lase-
gun -- and slow, _real_ slow,'' said Garth.
``Mine too.'' Terry slumped back against the bench and stared
across the path, noting with a fraction of his mind the people
strolling past. He focused for a moment on a big, blond youth in tight
shirt and tighter pants, then Terry turned to Garth again. ``How can
the women here stand it -- their men going out with a -- a _second-
_hand woman?''
Garth snorted, then said, ``If they can put up with having no
place t' find a stud for a quick one, they'll put th' fuck up with
any-fucking-thing. He glanced at Terry, a far-away look in his eyes.
``Remember th' way they do it on Gamma Centaurus IV?''
``Wasn't that where you checked your clothes, and then stood in
line so other studs could look you over for a spell.''
``Yeah -- and if nobody grabs ya in an hour, then _you_ get t'
pick whoever th' fuck _you_ want. Better'n th' deal on Wrfl's Planet,
where they hand out tickets, and you gotta make it with whoever's got
th' same fucking number that you do.''
``You must have been there on a bad day or something,'' said
Terry. ``When I was there, the spaceport was full of lumberjacks just
down from the hills.''
``Good?''
Terry sighed, remembering. ``They were big and hung and hard-up,
and all eager for a round with a real, live Space Patrolman.'' His
gaze followed a sturdy, golden-haired youth for a moment. ``I really
got a workout there.''
``My trouble was that I got handed a ticket with th' same number
as one of my shipmates, and they wouldn't let us swap with somebody
else. Fucking Fomalhaut, but I wanted some _variety,_ not . . .''
``I know what you mean.'' Terry glanced at his shipmate,
remembering the weight of Garth's muscular body mounted on his own.
Terry felt Garth's hand tighten on his shoulder. ``After being in
Space for a while, you get hungry for some fresh meat.''
``Yeah, but unless we find some-fucking-body soon . . . Ever
been t' Werglath III? They got it set up so there's no fucking chance
that you'll pay for it: ya gotta strip at one of th' locker houses,
and then swim -- buck naked -- to th' island in th'fucking middle of a
little lake.''
``Sure, but then you get your pick of some nice, clean studs.
They're all real physical culture nuts -- and they look it, too. Where
my ship landed, they don't have an island; but there was a big raft
anchored in middle of the river and you have to swim out to that.''
Terry's gaze wandered to a tall, broad-shouldered~ youth; there was
something familiar about that big blond, but --''
``How 'bout Crucis 35? There, they _make_ ya pay for it -- or
sell it.''
``Ummm?'' Terry watched the blond youth in tight pants amble by.
``Ya strip, and a couple appraisers look ya over, set a price,
and hang a fucking price tag 'round your neck. It's usually raining
there, but in the park, they got little paths with roofs over 'em.''
``Who buys, then?''
``Same studs. I mean, ya get priced at fifteen, and ya find a
stud ya like who's priced at twenty: ya pay him th' fucking difference
t' make him.''
``Might be fun,'' said Terry. ``Still, I like the setup back
home: We're right next to a little forest on the edge of town, so
whenever the wife's out of sorts or I'm feeling 'specially hot, I can
trot over for a quick trick under the trees and maybe bring him home
for lunch afterwards.''
``Well, I'm right on th' beach, so I just leave my clothes in
th' closet and pop down th' back stairs and there th' fuck I am. Th'
wife likes t' meet th' studs I make it with, though; and th' only time
she got mad was when I brought in th' same surfer three times running.
But otherwise . . .'' Garth's voice trailed off.
Terry glanced at his shipmate, saw that he was looking intently
at someone on the path that ran by the park bench. But when Terry
looked in the same direction, he saw nothing new -- just purple trees,
a few people strolling along the path. A tall, blond youth glanced at
Terry, then at Garth.
``What's the matter?'' asked Terry.
``That blond stud.''
``Yeah? He's been by here a couple of times, come to think of
it.''
``Wearing real tight fucking clothes, too.''
``Yeah. Good set of muscles under them.''
``Hung good, too.''
``Yeah.''
The muscular youth slowed, then stopped. Terry licked his lips
slowly; the big blond did the same, a hint of a smile on his face now.
Terry hesitated, then nudged Garth and scrambled to his feet.
``Huh?''
``Come _on,''_ said Terry.
``Uh -- hi,'' said the blond youth. ``N-new in town?''
``Yes,'' said Terry, and was suddenly at a loss for words.
Garth put out his hand. ``I'm Garth.'' He and the youth shook.
``I'm -- Wolf.''
``And I'm Terry. Hi.'' Terry held out his hand; the youth had a
strong grip. ``You're -- uh -- from around here?''
``I got a place just a block away.'' Wolf gestured.
Terry let his gaze run slowly down the youth's muscular
physique. ``Uh -- aren't you pretty tight down there, Wolf?'' Terry
asked. ``You're -- so well hung . . .''
The big youth grinned happily, suddenly relaxed and at ease. He
patted the tight bulge at his crotch. ``It _is_ pretty tight, yeah.
Maybe we could go to my place and -- relieve the pressure a bit?''
Terry grinned back. ``Let's go.''
Garth laughed and started to unzip his shirt. ``Fuck yeah!''
``Hey -- wait,'' objected Wolf. ``Not _here._ Wait'll we get to
my place.''
``Sorry -- I forgot where the fuck we are.'' Garth re-zipped his
shirt.
Wolf led Terry and Garth along the path, out of the park, and to
a little 'crete-block house. Inside, Garth and Terry waited until Wolf
began to take off his clothes, then stripped quickly. In a couple of
moments, the three stood naked, hard-cocked, and ready.
Terry stared hungrily at Wolf; stripped, the big blond looked
superb. ``Want to take us one at a time,'' Terry asked, ``or both of
us at once?''
``A three-way? Hey, that'd be great!'' Wolf turned, dived into a
pile of pillows at one end of the room. ``Come on -- let's go!''
Terry and Garth glanced at each other, then jumped onto the
blond youth. They wrestled for a moment, then sorted themselves out:
Garth engulfed Wolf's cock and started sucking; Wolf took Terry's.
They disengaged, squirmed into new positions, linked up again -- this
time with Terry sucking Wolf and Wolf sucking Garth's hard shaft.
Before anyone shot his load, they separated again. Wolf said,
``Uh -- you guys are gonna have to show me stuff. I've done things
with guys, yeah; but just with one guy at a time.''
``You're doing great, stud,'' said Garth. He gave Wolf a hug,
then scrambled to his feet. ``Where th' fuck do you keep th' oil?''
Wolf sat up, pointed, then lay back beside Terry and asked, ``As
hot as you are now, how come it took so long to -- you know -- get
interested, back in the park?''
``Oh, that,'' said Terry. ``That was a first time for both of
us.'' He looked up as Garth knelt and began oiling up Terry's and
Wolf's hard shafts.
``What do you mean, a first time for you two?'' asked Wolf. ``I
thought you -- ah, that feels good!''
``Here's something that'll feel a fucking lot gooder,'' said
Garth. He capped the oil, set it aside, and stretched out on his back
beside the big blond youth. ``Climb aboard.'' Garth spread his thighs
wide and raised them high.
Terry watched closely as Wolf mounted. Garth tensed his body
against Wolf's entering thrust, then squirmed as Wolf eagerly slid his
prong in to the hilt. The blond youth pulled back, thrust himself in
deep again.
Wolf turned to Terry. ``Are you . . . ?''
Terry nodded, then knelt astride Wolf's thighs. He leaned
forward, guided his shaft into the muscular youth's butt. Wolf was a
tight fit; Terry thrust harder, and his glans snapped into the blond.
Terry eased the rest of his shaft into the hot passage. He lowered his
chest onto Wolf's broad back, wrapped his arms around Wolf's muscular
chest. After a moment, Terry felt the big youth slowly begin to pump
his shaft into Garth.
``For a stud doing a three-way for the first time, you're
fucking near perfect,'' panted Garth.
``Real good at this end too,'' said Terry, as he began to pump
with his own shaft. ``Hey, Wolf . . .''
The blond raised his head, looked back over his shoulder. ``Uh
-- yeah?''
``When we were in the park -- that was the first time we ever
cruised a stud with his clothes on. We didn't realize that you were --
are -- available.''
``You sure know it now,'' said Wolf with a laugh, gradually
accelerating his stroke.
``I'm -- we're used to studs stripping down first, so we can
look 'em over already naked,'' Terry explained, thrusting faster with
his own hard shaft.
``Like I said,'' Garth panted, ``this planet is something outa
th' fucking twentieth century -- but with studs like this under those
clothes, who cares?''
``Yeah?'' Still accelerating his pace, the big blond asked, ``Uh
-- when we've shot our loads, can we swap around and try it again?''
Terry laughed. ``Wolf, I was just getting ready to ask you the
same question.''
``And after _that,''_ Garth suggested from the bottom of the
pile of muscular virility, ``maybe we could wash off and then suck
some more cock. Right now -- let's fuck!''
===========================================================
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