Vincent Lambert
Monday, Monday. The alarm chirped annoyingly as Andy Pratt turned to hit the snooze button one last time. He pulled up the covers just far enough over his head to shield it from the morning glare. Another week was about to begin, and he was less than psyched. After all, it was summer in the city. New York tends to swell with visitors during the warmer months, leading to some nasty smells and nastier tourists.
Andy yawned and stretched his lean, lanky frame, running his hands through his curly blond hair. He had only recently moved to Manhattan from his home state of Iowa. Sure, he had dreams of making it in the big city, but his days spent doing grunt work at a marketing firm hardly made him feel like he was accomplishing much. He was only twenty-seven, though, and there was still time to conquer the world. Right now, he just needed to squelch that alarm clock and get up.
But then he started to feel a familiar stirring down below: morning wood. His always-faithful companion to greet the day was back. He let his hand slide down his smooth torso to the band of his boxers. Following his treasure trail to the top of his straining waistband, Andy let his fingers lead him directly to his hard cock. Hmmm, he thought, is there time? A quick jack and go? He could almost feel the cum clogging his balls. It had been two whole days. But a quick glance at the clock helped make his decision. I’ll just save it, he decided. More for later!
In one quick motion, Andy bounded out of bed and quickly shucked his shorts. His boner sprang up with him. Boing! But he swatted it down before aiming it toward the bathroom and turning on the shower. He grabbed his phone and checked the temperature while taking a leak. It was going to be a sunny day with temps in the eighties. It might be fun to cruise the park at lunchtime, he decided. At least it would be a way to break the boredom. As the steam started to rise, he flushed and hit the shower. Work soon!
• • •
The subway seemed more crowded than usual. Andy spied a group of obnoxious tourists taking up much of the car as he wedged himself near a touchy-feely straight couple. The girl was kind of wispy, but the guy was tall and muscular, and Andy wondered what he would look like naked. What is it about straight dudes? Why do I always feel that pull? he wondered. Back home, he’d had a brief flirtation with his sister’s boyfriend, but that was more of a fantasy. Since moving to the city, his dating life had been fairly mundane—just lots of endless chatting on hookup sites and apps. Where are all the single guys? And if those don’t pan out, where are the horny husbands who need relief?
Andy tried to look away as the couple held on to each other and whispered something funny and/or sweet. He could tell that they had spent the night together, and he started imagining the muscle guy banging away. As he drifted into his reverie, his fresh boxers suddenly started getting tighter. Luckily, his station was next. The NYC subway was no place to get a hard-on!
Andy checked the time on his phone as he climbed the steps: eight fifty-five. Just enough time to grab some coffee before sliding into his cubicle. He logged on and started plunking. Big sigh. Monday, Monday, indeed.
• • •
One of the things Andy liked about working in Midtown was that Bryant Park was just a few blocks away. During the summer months, he liked to grab his homemade sandwich and head over for a brief respite from the computer screen. There were always lots of sexy guys in suits, not to mention some hot backpackers in shorts and sandals. Sometimes there was even a shirtless stud or two who would lie on a bench to soak up some rays. Andy would try to sneak glances between bites of his peanut butter and jelly.
As he approached the park today, it seemed like the usual assortment of random New Yorkers. He found a seat at one of the small round tables. As soon as he sat down, a burst of orange caught his eye. Sitting on the bench facing him, about fifteen feet away, was a businessman in a dark blue suit. The cut of the jacket hugged what looked like a well-built frame. But the orange necktie is what got his attention. It was bright and shiny and seemed to catch the light as the businessman adjusted his sunglasses and looked up from his New York Times. Andy quickly averted his eyes. This guy was intimidating, to say the least—and even more so because he was exactly Andy’s type: He had a round shaved head and just the right amount of casual stubble. He looked swarthy and a bit sweaty—but he was sitting in the sun, after all. His shoes were carefully polished and his nails were neatly trimmed. As Andy surreptitiously scrutinized the man, he couldn’t help but notice something else: a wedding ring.
Andy gobbled down his lunch and tried to focus on the blooming begonias by the fountain, but his eyes kept wandering back to the businessman on the bench. I wonder what’s under that suit? he thought. Furry or smooth? He guessed (hoped, actually) hairy. However, his looks went unreturned. The suit guy seemed to stare right through him. Andy wasn’t feeling especially bold and was soon due back at his desk, so he gathered up his wrappers and apple core and headed to the park exit. He couldn’t resist one last look, though. The business guy was still engrossed in his paper—but did he just look up? Lower his sunglasses? Or had Andy just imagined it?
• • •
The after-work rush was definitely on at the gym. Andy had walked the few blocks from his office and made his way to the locker room. He quickly changed into his workout shorts and tank top. He breezed past the shower/steam room/sauna area, figuring it was too early for any action. In his short time working out there, he had witnessed a few racy scenes, especially in the steam room when the fog got thick. He had never participated, but the thought of it was enough to get another rise out of his shorts.
On the gym floor, he went through his routine, lifting weights and working on his growing arms and pecs. Getting a good pump was his favorite thing, and it always made him horny. All that blood rushing through his veins made him wish for release. After just enough cardio to get his heart racing, Andy headed to the mats for some stretching. Sometimes he would spot a hot guy there or see a pair of hairy legs walking through to get to the spinning studio. Today, he lay down and felt his hamstrings pulling. Again, his mind went back to the sexy daddy on the park bench. His wife is one lucky bitch, Andy decided.
The gym was filling up, and Andy headed to the locker room. Peeling off his sweaty clothes and wrapping himself in a towel, he looked up at the clock. There was time for a steam before he showered. He walked down the corridor and pushed at the heavy glass door. A gust of dank steamy air hit him in the face as he looked around for an empty spot. He squinted through the mist and saw three other guys swaddled in towels. One was old and shriveled. Another was short and thin. Over in the corner was a mirage in the form of a shaved-headed hottie. Andy’s eyes zoomed in across the steam room … there was something familiar about that shaved head. And there was the perfect stubble. He squinted again. Could it be? Was his park bench buddy actually six feet away in nothing but a towel? There was no orange tie to confirm his suspicions, but what Andy did see was a muscularly sculpted torso covered in thick dark hair. Furry! His guess had been right. He wanted to move closer but was afraid of seeming too obvious. He needed to be sure, but his only choice was to wait for some of the steam to clear.
The other guys were happily sweating and oblivious to Andy’s inner turmoil. I have to meet this man! I have to know if it’s him! he thought. After a few agonizing minutes, he thought he saw the stud look up, but he couldn’t be sure. The old guy started coughing and eventually eased himself off the bench and shuffled out. One down, Andy thought. He eyed the short thin guy. Get out! He tried to make him disappear, but to no avail. Meanwhile, he saw movement in the corner. The hairy hunk was shifting in his seat. Andy scrunched his eyes and thought he saw the flash of a wedding band.
OK, I need to be next to this guy, Andy decided. He tugged at his towel and inched closer to the corner. At that moment, the short thin guy gathered himself up and exited stage left, leaving just Andy, the stud, and the steam. And then something unexpected and amazing happened: Now that they were alone, the hairy hottie started repositioning himself. He lifted his well-muscled arm to wipe away a stream of sweat from his brow. Andy caught a glimpse of a bushy armpit. Was he staring? He had to catch himself. But then the man casually let his towel fall to his side, revealing something Andy hadn’t noticed before: An elaborate tattoo that twisted around his tight torso. It was an intricate and colorful image of a tiger—its tail wound around from where his six-pack ended down his muscular thigh. Andy wanted to see more, but something else caught his attention: his steamy buddy had started stroking himself.
Does he know I’m in here? Does he see me? Andy’s mind was racing. He started inching closer for a better view, but the man didn’t look up. He was focused on the growing meat in his hand. Andy shifted his gaze and almost gasped when he saw the protruding pole that was glistening before him. The tiger tattoo dude was hung thick, just how Andy liked it.
As he watched, the guy started taking long pulls on his uncut cock, stretching out the skin and displaying his full hard-on. Andy felt his own dick spring to life. It was harder than his morning wood and his need to nut was even more urgent than before.
Andy was torn. He looked over at the steam room door, knowing that at any moment some ugly troll could enter and ruin his fantasy moment forever. His cohort may have been thinking the same thing, as he started accelerating his strokes. His wide cock bobbed as rivers of sweat hurried down his beefy torso and got caught in his lush pubes. Andy couldn’t take it another minute. He threw open his towel and started pumping his own rigid rod. If the tiger man could see, he didn’t let on. He just stared straight ahead and continued jacking. Andy matched the rhythm of his pumping. He wanted to walk across the steam room and bury his face in the man’s crotch. He wanted to lick the tiger tattoo and follow the tail deep inside the guy’s leg. He wanted to slurp at the full hairy ball sac and trace the veins on the shaft until he was swallowing that thick piece whole. Maybe then the married man would notice him and feed him his reward. But he just kept pulling in a puddle of sweat.
As Andy got lost in his fantasy, he felt his nuts tighten. I want to see tiger man shoot, he thought. And just as the idea formed in his brain, the guy threw back his head and let out a soft moan. A shower of jizz followed, landing squarely on his hirsute tummy and effectively drenching the tiger tattoo. Andy’s eyes almost popped out of his head, and he knew that he was going to spew as well. As he watched the cum leaking from the wet dick head across from him, he finally emptied his nut sac and shot heavy cream into his towel. Whew!
Andy collapsed against the wall, happy and spent. He closed his eyes and imagined how good the tiger man’s cum would taste. His afterglow bubble was burst, however, when the door swung open and two loud queens entered. Andy quickly covered himself, and the tat man squarely stood up and headed out the door. Andy was tempted to follow, but he waited a minute in order to compose himself.
When he entered the shower area, all the curtains were pulled. Where is he? He can’t get away! Andy chose a shower toward the end and left his curtain slightly ajar so he could see anyone that passed. But after a few minutes, when only the old guy wheezed by, he shut the water and dried off.
By his locker, Andy looked back and forth. No sign of his jacking buddy. Damn, he’s gone. Andy’s heart sank. It was time for dinner, but he was still hungry for the married man. He sighed and pulled on his clothes. He swung by the bathroom, looking for feet under the stalls—but nothing. He was hoping to see those shiny shoes, that dark suit, that orange tie. He lingered a while longer but eventually gave up. Home to his microwaved entrée.
• • •
The next day, Andy woke up extra early. Maybe I should swing by the park before work, he thought as his dick twitched awake. Or definitely the gym after. Fully erect now, he stared at the ceiling. How was he going to find that shiny orange tie and the hairy straight guy attached to it? He felt pre-cum rising to his dick head but resisted. “I’m saving it for my tiger man,” he said aloud, then felt himself blush.
Work dragged all morning before Andy could return to the park at lunchtime. No orange tie. The gym seemed especially desolate that night, especially with no hairy stud to be found. By Wednesday, Andy was officially obsessed but had no outlet for his desires. He didn’t know anything about the tat guy. He wasn’t even sure the man had seen him in the steam room. That afternoon, he retreated to the office men’s room with his phone. This was one of his favorite escapes when the numbers on his machine didn’t quite add up. In the quiet of his stall, Andy logged on to Grindr. The familiar squares usually distracted him for a few brief minutes until he had to go back to work.
He started perusing the profiles. The usual suspects were present and accounted for. He had chatted with a few random guys but had never met an actual live person on the app. He wasn’t sure it was the best way to meet new guys, but it was certainly the most convenient.
As he “loaded more guys,” a new profile popped up, and for one hot second he lost his breath. It was a headless picture of a man in a suit and tie—an orange tie. And he was 2,639 feet away. Hmmm, what are the chances? Andy clicked on it immediately. The name read “Str8 for Fun,” and the green dot was lit. The stats? Age: 39. Height: 5’10”. Weight: 180 lbs. Ethnicity: White. Currently: Married. Looking for: Chat. Andy squinted. Could it be? There was only one way to find out.
He clicked chat and typed: “Hi, how are u?” He waited. No reply. Oh, please let him write back, he thought. Please let it be him! He looked at the screen, willing it to respond. Then …
“Hey, sup?” came back.
Andy almost fell off the bowl. “NM, u?” he wrote.
“Working, bored, u?”
“Same.”
“U work midtown?”
“Yup, u?”
“Yes.” Andy could barely breathe. This was going well! He still had the stud’s attention after two minutes.
“Any other pics?”
Andy had a face pic, but for times like these he also had a shirtless selfie that he’d snapped in his spotless bathroom mirror.
“Sure, u?”
“Def. Trade?”
“Sure.” Andy sent his.
“Nice.”
“Thanks, urs?”
“Sending.”
Andy waited again. There was the clunky message sound and right there on the screen in his hand was a pic of a muscular hairy man—with a winding tiger tattoo on his torso. Andy beamed. No way! What should he do? Should he mention the park? The gym? The steam room? No, I’ll play it cool, he decided.
“Nice.”
“Thx. What u looking for?”
“NSA fun. U?”
“Sounds good to me J”
Andy was shocked by his own candor. But he kept picturing that thick dick tucked away in the blue suit just a few blocks away. He wanted that dick—and the straight man who owned it.
Abruptly, his chat buddy wrote: “Going into meeting. Catch u later.” And just like that, he was gone.
Andy blinked at his screen. Was it real? Had he actually found his married straight guy? He quickly hit the yellow Favorite star and signed off. It was time to go back to his cubicle anyway.
• • •
That night, after the gym (no sighting), Andy ate dinner, watched some crappy Real Housewives show, and crawled into bed. Maybe I’ll log on before sleeping, he decided. After a couple of crashes, the faithful Grindr grid filled itself in. No messages, but “Str8 for Fun” was signed in. Andy eyed the green dot, but before he could decide whether to write, he got a message.
“Sup?” The orange tie profile was now 950 feet away. “Looks like we’re nabes,” it said.
Andy couldn’t believe his good luck. His dream guy was also his neighbor!
“Relaxing, u?” he wrote, barely able to get his fingers to work.
“Horned, u?”
“Always J”
“Can u host?”
Can I host? Andy laughed out loud. Yes! But instead he just wrote, “Sure, u?”
“Nah, wife here.”
“Ah, K. Feel like hanging?”
Andy surprised himself with that last one.
“Sure, buddy. Address?”
And as easy as that, Andy had arranged his first “date” with his hairy straight man. He raced to the shower and did a quick scrub down. Then he ran around his studio apartment and made a vain attempt to clean up. Oh, who cares? he thought as he threw some dishes in the sink. Next he smoothed the sheets, lowered the lights, and waited. Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a scam. What am I doing? Andy lay down on the bed and nervously imagined what was about to happen. After fifteen minutes, he started getting drowsy. That’s when the buzzer jolted him awake. This was not a dream. The tiger man was about to walk into his apartment and … he wasn’t sure what was coming next.
Andy hit the buzzer that unlocked the street door. He then left his apartment door ajar and got into bed. After a few minutes, he heard footsteps outside, then the squeaky door to his apartment opened slowly. Andy could make out the man’s figure as soon as he entered. He was hoping for some flash of recognition from the tat guy, but all he did was nod hello and start undressing. It was all there: The shaved head, the sexy stubble, the pelt of fur as he stripped off his shirt—and there was that tiger tattoo. Next came the shoes, socks, and pants. He was a tighty-whitie type. Who knew? Then those came off, too.
As Andy blinked at the sight before him, the man stood at the edge of his bed. He looked down at Andy, who was still in his T-shirt and boxers. There was really nothing to say. The veiny, uncut dick he had desired was right in front of his face, inches from his lips. There was only one thing to do: Andy reached up and grabbed it with both hands. It was even heftier than he had imagined. He stretched both hands around it and started to stroke. The man closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
In a moment, the cock reached full capacity, and the head started to peek out. Andy knew what to do next. He started moving his hands faster and was rewarded with a generous drop of pre-cum oozing from the slit. How could he resist? It was exactly what he had wished for. He leaned up on one arm and, with a quick movement, licked the head clean with the tip of his tongue. The tiger man smiled. Andy then pushed back the foreskin and ran his tongue all around the mushroom head. He swirled and started sucking tentatively. But the man’s reaction told him that it was the right thing to do: He started moaning appreciatively and put his hand on the back of Andy’s head. He said one word: “Good.”
Andy started sucking deeper, feeling the thickness part his lips. Soon he was inhaling the tiger’s tool and loving every inch. He adjusted his pace to the man’s breathing. As Andy sucked, he ran his hands over the man’s hard pecs and matted fur. He opened his eyes for a second. The tiger tattoo was even more beautiful and detailed up close. But now wasn’t the time for art appreciation. He had a thick prick down his throat, and his own was about to burst out of his shorts. The man started pumping into Andy’s mouth, but then he stopped.
“Let’s get you out of those shorts,” he said in a husky voice.
Andy was naked in seconds, and the man started eyeing his butt as Andy went back to blowing.
“Got any lube?” the man asked.
Andy reached around to his nightstand and pulled out a small bottle.
“Condoms?” the man asked, holding up the hand where his wedding ring usually was.
Andy pulled out a packet. The man took it as Andy looked up, his mouth still wet from the cock that was about to be inside him. It was all moving very fast, but he figured it was his one chance, so he might as well go for it.
Tiger man lubed up his finger and started toying with Andy’s tight ass. He felt himself relax as one finger went in. Just keep sucking, he thought. Then it was two fingers. Then he heard the condom wrapper being ripped open. He stopped sucking long enough to flip over. He saw the tiger tattoo for a moment as he lay down, and then he felt the weight of the man on top of him. Soon his legs were spread, and he moaned as the oversized head eased in. The thick shaft followed, and he felt his hole being stretched. But he breathed deeply and relaxed into it as the man slowly started to move. This guy is straight, Andy thought. But he knows how to fuck! Soon they were into full-on rutting, their moans and breathing matching each other pound for pound. After a bit, the man turned Andy over and started filling him in a new position. It felt even better—and this way, Andy could see the guy’s handsome face, hairy chest, and, of course, that ferocious tiger.
After a good many in and outs, Andy felt the man speeding up. He could tell they were both getting close.
“Can I see you shoot?” Andy asked. It was the most words he’d said in a row since the man arrived.
“You want the jizz?” tiger man replied, huskily.
“Yes! Please!” There was an urgency in Andy’s voice.
“Sure, kid.” The man kept pumping, then he pulled out and peeled off the condom. He returned to the familiar way of jacking that Andy had witnessed in the steam room, only this time Andy was going to be on the receiving end. After a few brief tugs, he groaned and unloaded a healthy round of jizz juice all over Andy’s hairless torso. It was all too much for him, and Andy reached down and grabbed himself. Soon he added his own seed to the pool that had just landed on him. For a moment, they both breathlessly admired their combined loads.
Then Andy jumped up for a towel and the man started getting dressed. After a few awkward minutes, he sheepishly said, “Thanks for hosting, buddy” and left. Andy crawled into bed. The sheets still smelled like straight man and sperm. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had to get to sleep as he had to work in the morning, but as he drifted off, he had a smile on his face, and one thought occurred to him: I forgot to ask his name.
• • •
The morning was cloudy and gray. Andy logged on to Grindr as soon as he woke up, but there was no message. He checked the park and the gym that night. No orange tie. I guess that’s that, he thought to himself, still feeling a pleasant soreness where the big cock had split him.
Friday was back to sun, no clouds. Andy crammed himself onto the subway, being extra careful to look around at his fellow riders. After all, he had a hot neighbor who had just fucked him.
At work, Andy was restless and ready for the weekend. By midmorning, he retreated to the men’s room, phone in hand. He signed in to Grindr. There was the orange tie, and the friendly green dot. Before he could say anything, there was a message.
“Thanks for the other nite, buddy.”
“Hey, no problem,” Andy replied.
“How u doing?”
“Good, just working. U?”
“K, busy. Care to meet up at lunch?”
“Sure.” Andy gulped. Maybe he had a new friend with benefits … “What time?”
“1 pm?”
“Cool. Where should we meet?” he wrote.
“How about Bryant Park? Same bench as on Monday?” Andy stared at the screen. No way! Had the guy known all along …? “Gotta run, buddy. See you there.”
Again, he was gone.
Andy grinned. He logged off and checked the time. He had two hours to kill before he could see his neighbor again. Excitedly, he walked back to his desk but stopped mid-step. Damn. He realized that he had again forgotten to ask the man his name. It didn’t matter though, because regardless of the straight stud’s real name, to Andy he would always be known as The Man with the Tiger Tattoo.