Date: Wed, 31 Aug 2016 14:57:55 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: Spring Break Happens in Vegas - chapter 17

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* My experiences - images, events, memories, words – flavor everything I
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SPRING BREAK HAPPENS IN VEGAS

By Colton Aalto

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – THE CASTING COUCH – PART TWO

I was feeling pretty damn good about myself as Jan drove the three of us to
the Convention Center, where the photography convention and the modeling
open call were in full swing. In particular, I was on a high, practically
patting myself on the back, about seducing Alec. The hunk had been an
incredible fuck, and none of it would have happened if I hadn't taken the
initiative. I was still visualizing his long hair and ripped body, hovering
over me as he drilled my boi pussy like a runaway freight train. My cock
was still reveling in the aftermath, too, throbbing in my boxers and making
me wish I could slip my hand into my pants and squeeze it.

Had I followed my initial instinct and shown Alec to the powder room, I
would never had gotten to scope out the dude's awesome body and would never
have experienced Alec's incredible frenzy fuck. His veiny cock had
practically scorched my hole. Even after Alec was undressing in the locker
room, odds were that nothing would have happened if I hadn't made the first
move by cruising him, pulling down his shorts and licking his balls.

That wasn't all. Ricardo Noc's photos had apparently gotten me an interview
with a top agency, and that outcome may have hinged on me acting like a dog
in heat around the man and basically throwing myself on him. I couldn't
take much credit for the idea behind that one because Jon had suggested I
do it and urged me on, but being aggressive had worked like a dream. And my
first time getting fucked by an older man had left me convinced that it
wouldn't be the last.

What about Ren and Dolph? The flyboys were both straight but absolutely
fine with me going down on them and using my ass up to relieve pressure on
their balls. I had been sitting on a couch between them and done
nothing. That wild night of sex would never have happened if Ren hadn't
made the first overture. But I could have, and should have, taken things
into my own hands. Or maybe the proper phrase was taken two big things into
my hands, my mouth and my ass.

Even this morning, the hot double-fuck my half-brothers had administered to
my ass had been my idea. I needed to reach out and take what I wanted. If I
saw a dude with a hot body and I wanted his cock buried in my ass, I had to
take the bull by the horns, so to speak. I had to be careful to make sure I
wasn't hitting on some straight dude who would pound the crap out of me,
but if I saw a hint of a green light that a guy was amenable to a little
action, I was gonna go for the gold.

"I didn't think my pictures would get seen by anyone so quick," I said from
the back seat of the SUV.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, Jan raised his eyebrows and replied,
"Jon and I are trying to figure that out, too. It makes no sense, because
normally Ricardo Noc would batch your pictures up with the rest of the ones
he's taken all week and make them available to the agencies in a week or
two. Maybe he couldn't get your smoking hot ass out of his mind and tipped
off someone at this agency. But the agency is one of the top in the world."

Jon snickered and said, "It's obvious. Ricardo fucked and tattled, and
someone at the agency figured they wanted to jump on you right away, the
same way Ricardo did." Contemplating my newly discovered power bottom
status, I told myself that maybe I would do the jumping, if whoever I was
meeting with was hot.

A cute boy at the agency office in the Convention Center gave me an envious
smile and, to my surprise, escorted me out of the Convention Center and
into a waiting car that whisked us to the Wynn Hotel. My escort took me up
one of the guest elevators to a massive suite, along the way disclosing
that the head of the agency, Addison Lind, had a suite at the Wynn and
wanted to meet me there rather than at the agency office at the Convention
Center. "He's British nobility, you know," the guy whispered as we waited
in a living room area of the suite. "He's a Viscount or a Baron or
something similar, and somebody told me that his father is a Duke and he'll
inherit the title when his father dies. But he doesn't let anyone call him
`Lord' or shit like that."

A side door opened and Hugh Grant stepped out.

That was what I thought at first, because the man looked exactly like Hugh
Grant. Well, the Hugh Grant I knew from the `Notting Hill' and `Bridget
Jones' and `About a Boy' eras. That was 15 years ago, so the real Hugh
Grant probably looked older. The man smiling at me and shaking my hand had
Hugh Grant's lazy, crinkly eyes and charming smile, and the same casually
messed up hair. More enticingly, he was dressed in a shirt with the top
several buttons undone, immediately drawing my attention to his bare
chest. It was right out of one of Hugh Grant's movies, but I couldn't place
which one. Hugh Grant's open shirt and casual sexuality was imbedded in my
mind, however.

"Jen, I'm very pleased to meet you in person," the man said in a deeper and
more compelling voice than the real Hugh Grant had. "Your photographs don't
do you justice." He had Hugh Grant's British accent. For some reason his
voice reminded me of Quentin. Probably only the British accent.

"Um, thank you, sir," I mumbled.

"Henry," Lind said to my escort, "thanks for bring Jen over. Would you mind
picking him up in an hour and seeing that he gets back to the Convention
Center?"

"Of course, sir," Henry said cheerfully, disappearing into the hallway.

"Sit down, Jen," Lind said, gesturing to one of two big chairs in front of
a huge window that looked out to the Strip. "Can I get you anything to
drink?"

I contemplated whether to ask for something. Clearly it couldn't be
alcoholic; I remembered Jan and Jon's warning about models that got
drunk. A soft drink seemed like something a kid would ask for. In other
words, exactly what I would normally have done. I rejected the idea for
that reason. I contemplated water, but ended up shaking my head and saying,
"No thank, sir." Too late I thought I should have asked for something piss
elegant like soda and lime.

Lind took the other seat in front of the window and started asking me
questions. I was nervous but calmed down as we talked. Despite a bit of
British reserve, he had an easygoing manner. I liked him immediately. For
some reason it crossed my mind that he would be a cool father. I had had
that feeling before with a teacher or two I had in school, but with Lind,
it was stronger. I wondered if he had kids. I judged him to be on one side
or the other of 40, so if he had children they might be my age.

The conversation turned to Ric Noc's photos. Lind showed them to me and I
had to admit, they were stunning. I looked like a model. Far different than
the geeky nerd that stared back at me in the mirror every morning. "These
are really great!" I gushed, immediately feeling like a gangly teenager.

"They are," Lind laughed. "Indeed they are. As a point of fact, they are so
amazing, that I'm going to break agency rules and offer you a modeling
contract on the spot. I own the agency, so I may have to discipline myself
for doing it. But I think my decision is warranted in this case because you
have great potential. Modeling is hard work, don't let anyone tell you
differently. That said, if you work hard and dedicate yourself, you can go
far."

My God! I practically peed in my pants. When Jan and Jon had suggested I
might become a model like they were, I discounted the possibility. It was
fun to think about, but I didn't see myself dressing up in expensive
clothes and getting photographed or walking down runways. But now a
handsome man who was British royalty and head of a big agency was offering
to make it happen.

"I'm really excited!" I babbled.

Lind laughed again. "I'm glad," he chuckled.

Fishing a stack of papers from a folder on the table, he said, "Here's the
contract. It's a standard document. Feel free to page through it. You
should have a lawyer review it. Think it over."

"I don't need to do any of that," I replied excitedly. "Just show me where
to sign!"

Lind grinned and said, "I like your enthusiasm, Jen. We should bottle some
of that for your modeling shoots – emotions come through clearly in
modeling photography, and enthusiasm is all too often in short supply. But
you'll have to track down your parents before signing. Because you are only
17, under U.S. law your parents will need to countersign the contract for
the agency to take you on. How soon do you think they'll be able to sign?"

Never. As in, when hell freezes over and pigs fly. I felt like I had been
punched in the stomach. My happy mood was gone in an instant. "They'll
never sign it," I said in a dead voice.

Lind frowned and told me maybe I shouldn't be so sure. He offered to speak
with my parents, to arrange for tutors and chaperones, even have me stay
with families on modeling shoots rather than in hotels. He had clearly
faced the problem of the reluctant parent before and knew how to handle
it. But he hadn't dealt with my fundamentalist preacher father before.

When it became apparent none of that would work, Lind retreated to telling
me that he would keep me in mind when I turned 18, but he was frank about
not being able to commit. My brothers had told me enough about modeling
over the course of the week that I knew models' careers were often measured
in months and not years. No agency would take the risk of what I might look
like in a year. Styles could change. Plus, I would have to start from
scratch. Would I be lucky enough to get photographed by Ric Noc again?
Unlikely. Despite his kind words, would Lind remember me in a year?
Unlikely. Jan and Jon had remarked more than once about how there was
always another handsome boy waiting in the wings in the modeling world.

I told myself that I was too old to cry, but I sure as hell wanted to.

"I feel awful about this, Jen," Lind said. I genuinely believed he did. "I
wish there was something I could do."

Staring at Lind, I suddenly knew what he could do for me. I wanted him to
sweep me into his arms and make love to me. I would never have contemplated
risking a modeling career by suggesting what I was about to suggest, but I
had no modeling career to risk. I wasn't going to get a modeling career out
of this visit, but perhaps I could get a second prize.

During our meeting I had thought more than once about how sexy Lind was and
how amazing it would be to see him naked and feel his cock inside me. I
wanted those lips locked on mine. On the way to the Convention Center I
told myself that if I saw a man I wanted, I was going to go after him. And
Addison Lind was absolutely a man I wanted.

There was the small problem that I might be throwing myself at a straight
man, but I didn't think so. No wedding ring, although that wasn't
dispositive. But I had a feeling that, if Lind wasn't gay, he could at
least be bisexual. I would never be alone with him again, with a bedroom
right next door. What did I have to lose?

"Make love to me," I said, rising from my chair. The first step was the
hardest, but after that was on autopilot. Lind had a surprised look on his
face as I plopped my butt in his lap. "Please. I want you to kiss me and
take my clothes off. I want you to strip me and let me make love to your
body. And then I want you to take me into that bedroom and ram your cock
into my ass and fuck my brains out." Damn. I sure hoped that Lind didn't
have a girlfriend or a boyfriend in the bedroom waiting for him.

"Jen, you're a beautiful boy, but you're upset. You are doing something
you'll regret."

"Oh no," I panted, tracing my finger down the side of Lind's handsome
face. "The only thing I will regret is losing the opportunity to have you
take me in your arms and make love to me. I know what I want, dammit, and
it's you."

Lind started to protest again, but I pressed my lips against his and
gradually forced my tongue in his mouth. We kissed for a long time and I
lured Lind's tongue into my mouth. He was an incredible, passionate kisser,
unhurried and feverish at the same time. I practically creamed in my pants
merely kissing him.

We broke and Lind looked me in the eyes. I could see desire in his eyes and
I'm sure he could in mine. "Last chance for a sanity check," he murmured. I
couldn't tell if he was talking to me or saying something to himself.

"We passed that point a long, long time ago," I said.

Lind stood me up and slowly stripped me. God, it was erotic to be
completely naked while he was fully clothed. He nuzzled my neck, played
with my nipples, tweaked my cock and kneaded my ass as my clothes feel to
the floor. I wanted him to pay special attention to my ass and he did. Then
it was my turn, and I excitedly stripped Hugh Grant, getting a close up
look of the rest of Lind's chest. I was on my knees slurping on Lind's cock
in no time, bring it to a glorious full staff.

Long before I was ready to stop deep throating Lind's cock, he pulled me to
my feet and whispered. "I need to take care of something." He made a call
on his cell phone, and said simply, "Henry, give me another hour before you
pick Jen up." Smiling at me, he said to Henry, "Something has come up that
requires a schedule change. And rearrange my afternoon schedule, if you
will." He hung up and said to me, "I'm not going to be done with you for a
while." I gave him a happy grin.

In the bedroom, Lind put me on the bed and greased his cock. He started to
ease into my hole, slowly and steadily. It was nice, but I was too hot to
want to go slowly. "If you're going slow on my account, don't bother," I
moaned in between kisses. "I'm not going to break, but I am going to beg
you to fuck me so hard that we disturb the neighbors." Lind chuckled and
said, "Be careful what you wish for, Jen." He rammed his cock all the way
inside me in one quick thrust, causing me to groan and cry out, "Yes! Fuck
me harder!" Lind obliged.

Damn. The man knew how to fuck an ass. I had no idea whether he had been
perfecting his technique for 20 years or was a novice, but he had it down
right. On second thought, he wasn't a novice. He seemed to intuitively know
where my prostate was and pummeled it with each stroke. Lind's smooth chest
heaved with each breath and he kissed me constantly, sending me into orbit.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"Hell, yes," I gasped, pulling him back into a deep kiss.

Lind ran his hands across my body and they felt electric. I pulled his hips
toward me, reveling in the feeling of having his manhood all the way inside
me. Last night, with Arlo and Ren and Pyotr and the Russians, I was having
sex. Today, with Lind, I felt like I was making love.

I was so turned on that I felt a climax building, but because I hadn't been
working my cock I discounted the possibility I would actually cum. To my
surprise, my dick erupted with a geyser of cum that splattered across my
smooth chest. Lind smiled and scooped a bit up, feeding it to me, but
scooped some more and swallowed it himself. When our mouths touched, we
were sharing my load of spunk. I loved the idea that my boy juice was
inside Lind.

I wasn't long before Lind's man juice shot inside my hole. He began panting
and pausing as he drilled my ass and then it happened. Lind rammed my hole
with a dozen powerful bursts and his rod spewed cum in my ass as he kissed
me hungrily.

I thought that might be it, but happily I was wrong. After resting and
cuddling for a while, which I found I loved almost as much as getting my
ass fucked, Lind maneuvered us into a 69 position and we mouthed each
other's cocks for a while. Once I got him hard again, he fucked me doggy
style and let me ride him before he seeded my ass a second time.

Amazingly, the second time was better than the first. Lind knew how to make
love and I was the happy recipient of his attention. He murmured in my ear
about how beautiful I was. I couldn't get enough of his cock, whether in my
mouth, my hand or my hole. I couldn't get enough kisses from him. And I
couldn't get enough of his body. It was a mature man's body, but Lind was
in shape and not overweight. As he shot his second load into my hole, I
thought about what it would be like to live with him, to be his permanent
fuck toy. I would have happily stayed for the entire day if he had let
me. There was something about being with him that felt comfortable and
natural.

But all good things end, and Lind and I had barely gotten out of the shower
and exchanged a passionate kiss when Henry appeared to take me back to the
Convention Center. As we rode the elevator down, Henry asked, "Is your hair
wet?"

Shit. I couldn't immediately come up with a good excuse as to why my hair
would be damp after a long interview with Lind. "Um, I had, uh, kind of a
rough night last night, you know, Saturday night on the town, so as I was
leaving I splashed some water on my face to wake up. I got my hair wet."

Totally lame. But if Henry suspected what had actually happened in Lind's
suite at the Wynn, he never let on. He took my explanation
matter-of-factly, launching into a story about his Saturday night. He had
almost scored with a Vegas dancer, but was getting a second chance because
he and the dancer had a dinner date.

I couldn't ascertain whether Henry's dancer was male or female until he
lowered his voice and confided, "Dancers have the most incredible
asses. Amazing legs, too. Nothing better than to be inside that ass and
have those muscular legs wrapped around you. Male models have pretty faces
and nice chests, but almost none of them have a great ass. Their butts are
flat. And they all seem to have sticks for legs."

Henry paused before giving me a lecherous look and asked, "You're not a
dancer, are you? `Cuz you could pass for one."

"Um, no," I replied, not knowing whether to be embarrassed or flattered.

"I haven't seen a better bubble butt in the agency office for God knows how
long. I hope Mr. Lind brings you on, because staring at your ass when
you're in the office will brighten my day." Henry gave me a warm smile.

Getting flattered by a cute dude who spent all day around models was nice,
but Henry's wish that he would see me in the agency office merely reminded
me of my lost opportunity. I was bummed.


TO BE CONTINUED...


Thanks for your emails and encouragement. Readers' reactions are part of
what keeps me writing! Coltonaalto@gmail.com

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