Davy's knees started to quake. In fact, he was shaking all over. God, but he hoped Peter didn't notice.
Peter's eyes were serious, as serious as Davy had ever seen them. The amber/green shade had turned to brown, and Davy knew what that meant. Peter was experiencing some intense emotions.
Davy looked down coyly, almost Peter-like in his behavior. That's when he saw the enormous bulge of Peter's erection in his pants. He hadn't meant to look-it had just been there. And Davy's eyes had gravitated there because, how could they not? Not a solitary physical touch had yet come about during their walk, yet Peter was fully aroused. Davy was enthralled. Mesmorized by the beauty of it. He had to struggle to pry his gaze way. A crow bar would have come in handy. When he looked up again, Peter was smiling knowingly and a bit shyly. He'd caught him.
"That's what you do to me... a lot," said Peter. The tables had seemed to turn. Now Peter seemed to be the more brazen one.
For fuck's sake, if Peter knew how terrified he was, after he'd pursued Peter like he'd done, he'd look like the biggest kind of fool.
And then the guilt started again. He'd led Peter on at the party, damn it! He'd started out only trying to get them away from the girls, but in the process he'd made Peter expectant. They'd left early too, even more fuel for Peter's hopes-hopes that were probably going to be dashed to crumbs.
Well, what harm could some making out do? It was selfish on his part, but Davy was starving for it. He also knew Peter would enjoy it, eat it up. He felt a pleasant warmth from the beer he'd consumed. Just enough to set that fire burning in his blood. That deep ache, that need for Peter. He knew he should have only had two! But he'd had a third anyway, probably subconsciously giving himself an excuse to give into the lust he had for Peter.
The way he'd behaved at the party-a disgrace! Flirting shamelessly with Peter in front of a room full of about fifty people, many of them friends. And he couldn't even blame it on the beer-he'd started doing it before he'd even lifted one to his lips. Peter was some powerful stuff. If he were a drug, Davy would be a hopeless junkie by now. The bass player caused Davy to lose himself. He'd even told Peter so much not that long ago. How long had an oblivious Peter had Davy completely stuck on him, and he hadn't even had a clue of it?
Peter backed into a street light pole to steady himself for a moment. It wasn't the beer-it was Davy's nearness. It was heady and intoxicating. He felt his knees might collapse. Davy came into his arms before he could even think of what to say next.
"Shhhh..." Peter soothed with soft words, smoothing the top of Davy's head gently.
So... Peter could feel him shaking, thought Davy. Otherwise he wouldn't be making those sweet, comforting sounds.
"Its alright. You're the one in charge here...don't forget that... what you say goes." Peter smiled, even though Davy couldn't see it because his head was nestled between Peter's chest and neck.
"You're not scared are you? I feel you quivering ... I would never..." Peter trailed off.
"I'm not afraid of you...I trust you, you know that... I'm afraid of... the feelings."
A few seconds elapsed.
"Me too," Peter said nakedly. It was right out there in the open. Peter wasn't hiding a thing. He held Davy closely, but nothing about it was restrictive. Davy loved the way Peter had one arm around his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head. Peter hugged him with all of his heart-there was nothing half-assed about it. Yet there were no demands either.
Peter's head swam with wanting, yearning. When Davy's hands pressed against the sides of his head and pulled it down for a kiss, Peter let the need wash over him. The kiss, like the others they'd shared, didn't disappoint. Knowing each other better now, they kissed as if they had already kissed a thousand times. There was much more confidence than there had been the first time, and that led to more desire. It just kept building...
After a series of kisses that seemed to have lasted days, Davy gasped.
"What's wrong, babe?" Peter twisted a bit, trying to ease the throbbing tightness in his pants.
"The gig! We're supposed to be there at 11! Remember?"
Peter's eyes went wide, and a loud "Shit!" escaped his lips.
"Oh my God. We all forgot," Davy was in a bad way, in a blind panic, and now so was Peter. They couldn't mess up with this gig. It was a huge opportunity for them.
They literally ran almost all the way to the Pad to call the club where the other two were. It was already nearly 10:30. It seemed like it took forever for Mike to finally take the phone after he'd been paged.
"Mother fucker! I did forget. We all did! Okay, calm down, David. We still have time to get there. Mick and I'll come home now, we'll all change into our band clothes and head straight over there."
They barely made it by a quarter to eleven. The band that had opened was just leaving.
"Lucky for us he didn't want us here at nine," said Mike breathlessly as they jumped out of the Monkeemobile. "But from now on, or at least until we know if this contract will be extended, it's no more parties on Saturday nights!"
The owner of the club was trying the Monkees out for only three hours on Saturdays to see what the patron response would be. If he decided to extend the contract, the Monkees would have to be there every Saturday night by about 8:30.
"As it is we're gonna have to bust our asses to get set up in time to play," said Davy.
"Well, you don't have much to set up but some maracas and a tambourine!" complained Micky.
"I'll help you wherever I can, smart ass," was Davy's slightly annnoyed response. Peter smiled to himself. Davy didn't back down. He was fiesty, spicy. Peter liked that. At the same time Davy could always be counted on in a crisis. Even if someone were snarky to him.
Right now, they were hustling as fast as possible to get set up in time. Luckily, Mike and Micky hadn't had any more beer than Davy and Peter had. Mike had been too entranced with the young lady he was talking to to worry about keeping his styrofoam cup filled with beer. And Micky had been too busy trying to win the affections of at least one of the girls in his audience. They'd had to leave so quickly that all Mike could do was to scribble down the phone number of his very disappointed companion.
They started playing only seven minutes behind schedule—a miracle really. They told the owner a white lie about blowing a tire, and assured him it wouldn't happen again. He was soon mollified when he saw and heard them revving up the audience with Micky's antics, Peter's gyrations and dimpled smiles and Davy's fancy tambourine moves and dancing. Mike's appealing country rock songs were also a hit. They put in as much effort as they could to show the owner they were not only talented, but also serious and responsible. One thing was for certain—they'd never make that mistake again.
They had all been in such a hurry that Peter hadn't even had time to go to the bathroom to relieve his sexual tension. On stage, when Davy got too close to him he was glad his bass covered his arousal. If he weren't so big in that department, it might have been easier to conceal. But with Davy rarely more than three feet away from him when they were playing, he never had a chance to go completely soft. It was torture of the bittersweet kind.
By two o'clock the band was relieved to know that they'd lived up to the good reputation they'd started last weekend. They knew they'd been good. The crowd was even more enthusiastic than they'd been last week. As they were carrying the equipment out, the owner mentioned that if they did this well for the next two weekends, he would extend the contract for three months. Four very happy young men drove away.
"That was a close one—too close," said Micky as they entered the Pad.
"Well, let it be a lesson to us all that we never forget. We could have lost the three month contract and a hell of a lot of money," was Mike's input.
Davy and Peter were thought of as the heroes since they'd remembered the gig.
"It was actually David who remembered," stated Peter. He wanted to give credit where credit was due.
Micky laid a hand on Davy's shoulder. "Sorry I was bitchy when we were setting up."
Davy nodded, patting Micky on the back. "Who wouldn't be bitchy when they've have to drag themselves away from romance?" Micky had no idea of the cryptic meaning behind his statement. Micky and Mike hadn't been the only ones dragged away.
"I wanna party some more," said Micky. We weren't even at that party for two hours. I bet it'll go all night. Wanna go back, Mike?"
Mike thought for a moment, taking off his wool hat and examining it carefully for loose threads. But everyone knew it wasn't the hat that was on his mind.
"I wonder if that girl I was talking to is still there," he said softly, half to himself. "Her name is Katie," he said wistfully.
Micky jumped right on that. "She might be! Let's go back! Its worth a try!"
Within 10 minutes, they were out the door, leaving Davy and Peter alone.
Davy had been watching Peter, practically salivating. He was certain drool would run down his chin if he didn't keep his mouth closed. Remembering the glimpses he'd caught of Peter's excitement in his pants when Peter moved the bass a certain way, inadvertently revealing his hardness— Davy hoped the audience hadn't seen it too. He was deathly afraid some girl might snatch Peter away from him. Now he could scarcely believe he had him all to himself again. They even had the Pad all to themselves. Everything was aligned...
He thought for sure he'd burst as they climbed the stairs to their bedroom. His breath came in pants, his cock was rock hard with the memory of their deep kiss against the street light post. They'd had to abandon it so abruptly-damn! By the time they got into the bedroom, Davy couldn't take any more waiting. He'd already waited what seemed a lifetime.
All Peter knew was that one minute he was taking his shoes off in preparation for bed, and the next he was roughly shoved up against the wall. He didn't have time to say anything or even think anything as Davy practically attacked him.
Davy had had to endure Peter's nearness way too long, and his hormones had kicked in all the way. He'd reached his limit. All the days and nights of yearning, and then the party tonight, finally getting away together, kissing under the street light, and then having to run home and go to a gig where he had to stand so close to Peter for three hours had exhausted his resistance. He'd had to wait an eternity, and he wasn't going to wait anymore.
The kiss was voracious. It started out hard and demanding, even desperate feeling, taking Peter's breath away with its intensity, then had softened gradually and Peter sighed with the pleasure of it. What romantic ability Davy had! Was there no end to this man's talent? Ravaging him, thrilling him, then gently, deeply slow kissing him. Their tongues explored each other's mouths. Peter didn't have to do any coaxing to get Davy to let him in tonight-that was for sure. Davy had remembered what Peter liked, and he opened his mouth willingly. No tightness or tension. No holding back. He was letting go, just for Peter.
"That party really gave you a jump start, huh?" Peter gasped as their lips came apart some time later and Peter was able to find his voice. His knew he sounded tremulous and shaky. Yep, thought Davy. Its having a major effect on him too. Davy was still vibrating with need, and nothing was going to slow him down now. He'd been thinking about being alone with Peter ever since before the party. Straining at the bit.
"Looking at you... at the party..." was all Davy was able to squeeze out.
Davy let his inhibitions take a hike, even though they were almost nonexistant anyway, and dropped to his knees, leaned forward and cupped Peter's butt in his hands as he began to work his mouth and lips over the bulge in Peter's pants. It happened so fast-quicker than Peter could process. Davy felt a huge surge of sexual desire completely overtake him. He felt he was positively drowning in desire.
Holy shit! thought Peter. This was not expected. It shocked the hell out of him.
He realized then how crazed Davy really was for him. Gone was the Davy who wasn't sure about this! Peter gasped loudly and his hands naturally went to the back of Davy's head. Davy licked and nibbled through the fabric of Peter's tight pants, relishing the way Peter's erection jumped at every touch.
"Oh God," Peter crooned softly.
Davy had never felt like this in his life. He was finally feeling confident. I could eat Peter alive, he thought to himself. And that's exactly what he intended to do.
They undressed silently. Peter had been standing, pinned against the wall with only one shoe on. But he didn't care. What if he backs out now? Peter hated the thought, but he knew it was a possibility-a chance Peter would have to take.
They got into Peter's bed and Davy smoothly shimmied down Peter's body, the thought of having Peter's cock in his mouth overshadowing everything else. Davy's warm breath down on his lower abdomen made Peter's toes curl, his skin prickle. Peter waited, panting in anticipation. It finally came. He felt Davy's hot breath directly on his cock. Tickling it. Davy licked softly, his tongue barely making contact, then sucked the crown, remembering things Peter had said in the past. When the guys talked about making love to girls, being typical guys, they sometimes went into detail. Peter had once mentioned that he loved it when a girl sucked the head of his cock, as it was extra sensitive. At the time, Davy had taken it all in and filed it away. Now he was glad he had. He'd been attracted to Peter way back then, and time had done nothing but deepen that attraction. He wanted Peter to enjoy as much pleasure as he could give him.
The moaning and groaning started almost immediately. Peter was very vocal with his appreciation. Davy was busy licking the sides, licking inside the slit, and engulfing as much of Peter as he could. Peter was so large that he couldn't possibly take him all into his mouth, but he took as much as he could, moaning himself when Peter begged for more with his body movements. Davy was wary of touching himself or rubbing against anything for fear he'd combust.
When he felt Peter's balls drawing up ever tighter, Davy knew he was close, and he would back off for a couple of minutes, driving Peter stark raving mad at having the stimulation taken away.
"David, suck me...please," he begged. Then Davy would continue, only to back off again right before Peter was ready to climax. That's when Peter let loose of profanity almost as foul as Davy had when he'd tripped on Peter's shoe that night.
"I need to come...God, I want you. Davy baby, fuckin' suck it!"
A moment later, "Oh babe. David... yeah..."
Davy had relented and sucked for all he was worth, massaging Peter's balls, swirling his tongue around the tip, licking, until Peter exploded. Like Peter, Davy didn't pull away when Peter's orgasm came. He stayed and swallowed. He found he enjoyed it just as much as Peter had seemed to enjoy his ejaculate. Not a drop escaped him.
The moaning had reached a crescendo. Peter was now almost shouting. If Mike and Micky had had any suspicions at all, they were now confirmed forever more.
Peter's hands on the back of Davy's head kept him sucking as Peter thrilled to the last throes of his orgasm. "Urgh, urgh," Peter grunted, and was finally still, breathing hard and adoring the sensation of Davy's tongue and lips devouring the last of his seed.
That man knew no inhibitions, Davy realized then. Peter was nothing like a girl. No games, just straight, honest lust. His wanton behavior was so primal.
Afterwards, they lay side by side. When Peter's breathing had returned to normal, Davy brought the party up.
"I don't know what got into me... the way I... flirted with you...in front of everyone... at the party," he explained.
Peter didn't look the least concerned about it. "I kinda liked it," he said. "Made me a little proud," He blushed then. He pulled Davy to him. "So... I guess we're both finally on the same page? Took long enough." And then he kissed Davy with no reserve.