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Kicks on the Mellow Side

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Michael whistled as he walked along the street, one of the catchy new songs that was all the rage right now.

"The Jim-jam-jump with the Jumpin' Jive, makes you get your kicks on the mellow side," he sang softly.

The economy was picking up as The Great Depression in the States slowly came to an end, bringing more work opportunities this side of the Canadian border too. He had his first pay check in his pocket after spending a year looking for work, and though working in a factory had never been his dream, at least it put food on his ma's table and paid the rent, and put a little extra in his pocket too. It was a good time to be alive, with his life stretching out before him.

He could hear the music long before he reached the club, tapping his feet in time as he waited his turn in the entry line. Inside, the music was louder, the air heavy with the smoke from cigarettes and pot, and the dance floor was crowded with bodies and feet flying. He grinned. The joint was jumping. He watched one guy swing his girl up high then between his legs before drawing her back, only to lose them as more dancers hid them from view. He grinned wide, hoping he'd find a partner tonight because he wanted to dance.

The bar was just as crowded and it took a few minutes to get the barman's attention. Leaning back on the bar, he lit a cigarette before looking out across the dance floor once more, and spotted the couple again. The guy was tall and lean, with floppy dark hair and a wide smile. He lifted the girl from her tiny waist and set her down in time to the beat before they caught hands and danced apart, only for him to reel her back in again. Michael laughed at the fancy footwork, still tapping his own foot in rhythm. The guy moved like a professional dancer, making the others look clumsy in comparison, and Michael was enthralled by the energy displayed, and by the sheen of perspiration that gave him a healthy glow even under the dimmed club lights.

The song came to an end and the girl laughed, dragging her man off the dance floor, leaving Michael feeling strangely bereft. But another song had started, just as energetic as the one before, and a girl was standing before him.

"Seen your feet tapping. You want to dance?"

Taken aback at her being so forward, Michael almost refused but her eyes were pleading, and he really wanted to dance. He stubbed out his cigarette and led her to the dance floor. She wasn't the prettiest girl in the room by any stretch, but she was good, anticipating his moves and going with the flow. He picked her up and spun them both around, putting her down and mirroring her moves as they jived backwards away from each other, one hand still firmly grasped. He reeled her in and caught her trim waist, pressing her against him before dancing apart once more. When the song ended, he was reluctant to part, having had too much fun, but she returned to a group of giggling girls, leaving him alone at the edge of the dance floor once more.

He made his way back to the bar and collapsed onto an empty stool, looking for the other couple now that another song had started up. Someone bumped his elbow and he turned with a frown.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bump you. Let me buy you a drink?"

Michael had to clear his throat to get out the words. "Sure. Thanks!" It was the guy from the dance floor, and he looked even better close up with sparkling eyes and a single bead of sweat slowly trailing down the side of his face. It was almost a shame when the guy brushed it away.

"Danny," he stated, holding out his hand, and Michael took it willingly, offering his own name in turn.

"I saw you dancing earlier," Michael shouted.

"I know. I saw you watching me." Michael's smile slipped a little, hoping this guy wasn't going to take offense. He was usually a lot more careful but didn't think anyone would notice in such a crowded place with the smoke so thick--let alone the person he was watching. "I watched you too. Pretty good on your feet, Michael."

"Eh... Thanks."

The guy chewed nervously on his lower lip. "Look, I have to take Beth home now... but I can meet you outside back in twenty minutes."

He left without waiting for an answer, leaving Michael in a quandary. His stomach was flipping and his heart racing, and meantime the music played on with the same frantic beat, and the dancers stomped and jived, leaving him feeling light-headed. He bought another drink and sipped at it slowly, still caught by his dilemma. Part of him desperately wanted to go outside and meet Danny, hoping the other guy wanted the same as him, and the other half knew he was playing a dangerous game. Another ten minutes passed and he knew he had to make a decision soon.

"You okay, mister?"

Michael focused on the barman. "I think I need some air."

The warm night air was exactly what he needed to clear his head. He glanced around but no one was paying him any attention so he wandered into the alleyway running alongside the club, moving just inside the shadows; he lit up another cigarette. A shadow moved opposite and he recognized the silhouette as Danny stepped out, his back to the street lamp for a moment. Michael didn't resist when Danny took the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag before handing it back.

"Come on," Danny said softly, and drew him further into the shadows where the music was louder but the darkness was deeper.

Taking the cigarette again, this time Danny dropped it to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. He placed his hands either side of Michael, bracing himself on the wall behind and leaned in, kissing Michael softly before pulling back. All Michael could see was the light reflecting off his eyes, but there was no mistaking that it was another guy when Danny leaned in closer and pressed their bodies together. He could feel the hardness that matched his own, and gasped.

"This okay?" Danny whispered, and all Michael could do was nod as Danny's hand slid between them and unfastened Michael's pants. He groaned in a mix of awe and pleasure as those long fingers wrapped around his Johnson. He closed his eyes as Danny stroked him several times but opened them wide when he heard a rustle of clothing.

"You're gonna like this," Danny murmured and dropped to his knees. The wet heat and suction of Danny's mouth was amazing but the slicked finger pressed up inside him was like nothing Michael had ever felt before. It was mind blowing, and it took less than a minute before he felt his impending release. He scrabbled for Danny, hands tightening in his dark hair while he called his name in a hoarse whisper but Danny wouldn't pull off. Michael came hard while Danny swallowed every drop. His legs felt like Jello and he had no strength left to resist the strong hands that turned him to the wall, only realizing Danny's intention when he felt the Johnson nudging at his slicked hole.

"You'll like this," Danny murmured. He pushed gently until Michael had pillowed his head against his forearm, braced against the wall.

Momentary discomfort was replaced with a fullness that was both terrifying and perfect. Each thrust sank Danny in deeper, and a slight change of angle sent fresh sparks of pleasure firing through Michael. Danny leaned in closer, arm curving around Michael's waist until he could wrap his fingers around Michael's stiffening Johnson. The pleasure was indescribable, better than any fumble with a girl, better than Amy Tucker who had taken his virginity two years back. The thrusts became harder, more frantic, mirrored by the hand around his Johnson and he felt his release building again, biting into forearm to muffle his cry as his semen splattered against the wall. Danny's hips stuttered--one, two, three sharp jabs and then he fell against Michael's back, sweat dripping from his forehead to mingle with the sweat rolling down the side of Michael's throat.

This time he couldn't stay standing without Danny's aid, and he turned, locking his knees and bracing his back against the wall as Danny pulled up both their pants and tucked them in. Danny was relaxed and smiling as he leaned in to kiss Michael again, one hand caressing Michael's cheek. When he drew back, he was still smiling, eyes lazy with sated pleasure.

"Same time next week?"

"Sure."

As he watched Danny walk away, he could feel Danny's semen leaking from his ass, seeping down the inside of his leg... and he had never felt so alive.

END