July, 2004. Los Angeles.
“How the hell did I get here?”
The giant of a man grumbled hoarsely to himself. He shook his head and sighed, checked the cargo he was lugging for a fifth time. The gentleness of his hands that caressed the docile body within their grasp was belied only by the strength and rock-solidness of the left shoulder he was holding said body over. And the load wasn’t small, or petite or lightweight by any standards either. It was the body of an equally tall, but lean and slender, twenty-two year old boy. A very beautiful young boy.
A very beautiful and a very drunk, sozzled out of his mind young boy. What was his name again?
“Hollywood parties,” he grumbled again. At which he heard a responding giggle, kinda screechy and childlike.
“Oh you think this is funny, huh?”
“Nooo,” the boy drawled. “I’m being carried away by the Scorpion King. To the Scorpion King’s lair. To be ravaged and devoured by the Scorpion King. In the Scorpion King’s lair.”
Dwayne Johnson rolled his eyes. “Well, hold your horses, princess. I’m taking you to your lai… I mean room. What’s your room number?”
All he got was another giggle for an answer and the WWE wrestler turned actor sighed. “Kid, come on. What room are you in?”
“Can’t remember,” the boy slurred, squirming a little and making Dwayne gasp because, damn it every time he did that, the boy’s obvious erection rubbed up against the big man’s shoulder. He may still be known as the Rock in the business, but right now he was getting hard in all the wrong places and that couldn’t possibly be good. Not when the boy was so obviously on his way to passed-out-ness.
“Take me to yours.”
Dwayne nearly stumbled on his long walk to the end of the hotel lobby. God was that an appealing thought. But no. Dwayne pursed his lips tight. He was going to do the right thing. “I don’t even know your name, kid.”
“Dean Forrester!!!” The boy whined, suitably offended. “No wait, that’s not my name. That’s that idiot Rory’s ex-girlfriend’s…. uh, ex-boyfriend’s name. M-my name is… uhh….”
Dwayne rolled his eyes again. Clearly he had no choice but to help out a fellow actor in his time of need and take him up to his suite for the night. Maybe he could lay him down on the couch, let him sleep it off. Course the bed would be a lot more comfortable for the boy…
Do the right thing. Do the right thing. Do the right thing…
An old comely couple entered the elevator and stared up at him all throughout the ride. He’d greeted them as politely as he could, as if he didn’t have a six feet four boy’s ass hanging off his shoulder that by the way the lady kept constantly staring at.
The boy sniffed and whimpered behind his back. “I’m gonna be sick.”
The couple instantly took three steps back until they were pressed against the opposite wall. Dwayne winced and regretted having chosen the top floor suite.
Had to admit the Marriott staff really was very nice and friendly. The porters offered to help, so did a couple of really eager housekeeping maids, but Dwayne just smiled and kept walking with both hands wrapped firmly around his charge, relieved when he reached the privacy of his room. Although what he felt when he finally put the boy down – on the bed – was nothing like relief. It was exactly the opposite.
Dwayne placed a pillow under the boy’s head and arranged his limbs until he seemed comfortable. Then against his better judgment, he took a seat beside the supine body on the bed, entranced, unable to look away.
The boy was simply exquisite – long shiny brown hair falling on the sides of his chiseled jaw to his throat, contouring his gorgeous face that seemed both relaxed and vulnerable at the same time. Every breath that left the reddened half-open lips only served to further melt the Rock’s resolve down until it was freaking fondue. And then suddenly, the boy opened his eyes.
“Do you like my ass?”
The boy smirked softly, turning towards him and dropping a hand listlessly on top of Dwayne’s. “I felt it…. every time you touched it, fondled it. Did you enjoy my ass?”
Dwayne stuttered, nearly choked on his own tongue. The boy laughed. “It’s okay, I did.”
Sweet Jesus. Dwayne tried to get up and off the bed but the boy held on, grip stronger than Dwayne had expected. He gulped. Do the right thing, he reminded himself, do the right fucking thing. Minus the fucking.
“I was only, uh, adjusting my hold on…”
“My ass? I know…”
Getting bullied by a twink much, Johnson? Dwayne cleared his throat and retorted. “What ass, exactly? You’re so skinny, I couldn’t even find one. N-not that I was looking…”
“Really?” The boy struggled to raise himself on his elbows, and surprisingly succeeded, shakingly so. “Guess I should show you then.”
Oh hell yes… I mean no!
Dwayne stood up in a hurry. “It’s alright. I believe ya. Just go to sleep, okay?”
“You didn’t bring me to your bed to sleep, man. I’m drunk, not stupid.”
And there it was, out in the open. Dwayne felt tiny shivers rack his spine, his erection growing and growing as he stood there, looking down at temptation personified – this boy he’d probably seen on TV before, met him for only the first time tonight and didn’t even know his name…
Looks old enough to be legal…
Dwayne stared back into the boy’s dilated eyes. “Promise me you’re not gonna throw up on me?”
The boy smiled and licked his lips. “Only if you promise to fuck me to my absolute satisfaction.”
Dwayne smirked. The definition of right and wrong faded into oblivion. All he knew was that he was rock hard, pun totally intended, and the only right thing left to do then was… to make this wily little boy scream, and think twice before he tried baiting a man into bed like this ever again.
Okay, scratch the last part.
Dwayne slowly settled back down on the bed, reaching out for the boy cautiously just in case he changed his mind. And when he didn’t, Dwayne made quick work of the boy’s clothes, careful not to rip them apart because he was going to need them in the morning. The young TV actor just lay there giggling again, happily inebriated and completely unhelpful.
Once naked, the boy was positioned face down, the pillow that was once under his head now stuffed under his stomach to prop the glorious bottom up in the air just the way Dwayne liked it. He’d only been teasing earlier, of course. The boy had a truly delicious ass, just like the rest of him.
Dwayne took his time running his calloused palms up and down and across the smooth expanse of pale, surprisingly soft skin. Before going any further, he remembered to fumble through the bedside drawer for lube and condoms. The boy fidgeted and wiggled his ass seductively.
Dwayne smiled. “Patience, princess, patience.”
The older man got out of his own clothes next and got back onto the bed. He straddled the boy’s thighs from behind, careful not to crush him with his weight. The boy stroked his own genitals with one hand tucked under him, and with the other he reached back to brush up against Dwayne’s knee longingly. At that, Dwayne bent down once to kiss the exposed neck, laving a thin line up one cheek until he reached the mouth. It was the sweetest beer-and-candy-flavored mouth he’d ever tasted – a unique combination that spurned him on, the adrenaline in his veins pumping hot and fervent, yearning to just take the boy already. Passionately. Roughly.
But Dwayne managed to temper his urges and started slow, slicking up two fingers and preparing the boy for his gigantic cock. With one hand he pumped himself, watching his full-bloom erection darken with blood and worrying the boy might be too tight and could get torn but was possibly too drunk to care. But Dwayne cared.
He pulled the boy’s legs further apart and relished the sweet mewling noises the kid made as his fingers burrowed deeper and deeper inside of him. When at last he sheathed himself in rubber and started pushing into the stretched orifice, the boy whimpered in slight pain.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No! Keep going, please...”
“Shhh, okay,” Dwayne bent down and kissed the back of the boy’s neck again. Comforting him with gentleness that he knew no one usually associated with a WWF wrestler, but then they usually never associated homosexuality with him either. Man was he a natural born actor or what!
The boy gasped and chewed on his lips until at last Dwayne was buried all the way in. The snug fit around his cock felt so fucking fantastic, he felt like he’d died and gone to heaven. And he knew it was only going to get better.
“Ready when you are, your highness.”
Dwayne chuckled. “You’re a pushy little one, aren’t you?”
“I just know what I want… please… oh, move, please…”
And Dwayne moved.
Starting slow again, he pulled all the way out then thrust back in, held still for a while until the boy protested, before repeating the steps. He experimented with different angles and speeds, rotating his hips and driving hard and strong until he knew exactly how to drive the boy crazy. And that’s what he proceeded to do, hitting bull’s eye once every three or four thrusts, eliciting sounds that were sheer music to Dwayne’s ears.
The ah’s and the oh’s’ and the grunts and the please’s formed a rhythmic litany that echoed through the luxurious suite for several minutes. After awhile, Dwayne grabbed the narrow waist with both hands and pulled the boy up until he was on his hands and knees. The boy tried to put one hand back on his cock but Dwayne slapped it away.
“Palms flat on the bed. I won’t say it again.”
And then he continued fucking the boy furiously for another few minutes. The kid whimpered and moaned and pleaded to be allowed to touch himself. But Dwayne smacked his butt cheeks a couple times hard enough to dissuade him from doing so.
“Ah! You kinky, sonofa… ah!!! Harder, please, harder. Right there! Yes… oh! Don’t stop! Yes! Ah!”
Dwayne closed his eyes and threw his head back, finding his own mind-space of absolute pleasure as he kept canting his hips back and forth. He’d been craving this release, needing this comfort of a boy’s warm, silken depths to sink into for so long. Dwayne didn’t know who to thank more – his publicist for forcing him to attend this stupid network party, or this beautiful boy for choosing Dwayne’s lap out of a hundred others to stumble and fall onto.
When he came, the world whited out for a few seconds, and Dwayne wondered if this is what nirvana was supposed to feel like – mind blown wide open and floating with nothing – absolutely nothing weighing it down. It didn’t last too long, sadly, as the boy’s whimpers slowly but surely drew him back into the present. Dwayne realized he’d collapsed on top of the boy pinning him to the bed, and hurried to drag himself away.
The boy moaned having climaxed himself, and now lying in a wet spot on the bed just under his belly. He panted as he forced his boneless and thoroughly fucked body to turn over, and Dwayne couldn’t help but smile at the blissed-out expression on his face.
“Think you can go another round without passing out?”
The boy’s eyes grew wider and he turned listlessly to face Dwayne. “So soon?”
Dwayne chuckled and got back up on his knees, straddling the boy again, this time letting him lie on his spine. “Should make the most of your drunkenness as much as I can, right?”
The boy smirked, grimacing as Dwayne pulled one leg up and placed it on his own shoulder, then nonchalantly plugged his still hard cock back into the boy’s ass.
“Think you burned all the booze right outta my body with that workout, man.”
“That’s what you get for riling up the Scorpion King.”
The giggling was back, and Dwayne still could find no fault with it whatsoever.
“The name’s Jared, by the way,” he drawled, a hint of Texas in the accent that Dwayne found oddly endearing. “Jared Padalecki.”
Dwayne smiled and bent down to take Jared’s mouth with his. They kissed, for a really, really long time as meanwhile Dwayne fondled the boy’s limp cock, reviving it to life again.
“It’s good to meet you, Jared Padalecki,” he whispered and meant it. Then planting one last peck on the tip of the boy’s nose, he straightened up and got right back to business.
“Let’s see if you can still remember your name after I’m done with you.”
Jared closed his eyes, opened his mouth and moaned.
*** END ***