Is voyeurism such a crime – especially if watching your own boyfriend in action with strangers turns you on big time?
Steve and Billy’s monogamous relationship has gone stale until Billy, ever the exhibitionist, shows them a way to spice up their sex life.
Billy has the most coveted ass in the city and Steve loves to watch him secretly spread it open for strangers. But can their relationship survive when Billy goes too far and offers himself to Steve’s worst enemies.
Busting Billy’s Butt was originally published by loveyoudivine Alterotica and includes the first eight adventures of Steve and Billy in the Four on the Floor series – Four on the Floor, Jolly Rogering, The Devil His Due, Never Take Candy from Strangers, Done Like a Dinner, In the Family Way, Right Up His Alley, and Group Therapy. – all previously published as individual eBooks by loveyoudivine Alterotica.
Excerpt from: Four on the Floor
“Holy shit, man, get a load of that ass.” Jerry focused the binoculars on the fourth floor apartment across the street. With the magnification of those suckers, he could see straight into the living room through the wide-open balcony doors. As wide open as the guy’s butthole, if I had my guess.
“Here, let me see.” Mike snatched the glasses from him.
“I told you he was something out of the box,” I said from the corner bar where I was topping up our drinks. I threw the empty Bourbon bottle in the trash to join the earlier one we’d already polished off.
Jerry, my sleazy boss at Klassic Kars where I worked as a detailer, came back to get his glass. He’s chunky, in his early forties, shaven head and a splash of body hair across his chest; definitely a daddy type, but not exactly “attractive” to go with it. “You weren’t kidding, Steve. That guy has it all. I could fuck that.”
I knew for a fact that Jerry wasn’t fucking anything at the moment. He was always at me to set him up with one of my single friends. It wasn’t gonna happen.
Billy sneered. “I don’t think there’s anything special about him.” He hated it when he wasn’t the centre of attention.
“You’re kidding, right?” Mike relinquished the glasses to Jerry, who definitely wanted another look. We’d met Mike at the showroom a few weeks earlier, when he’d come in to give a newly arrived 1956 Buick Century Riviera Four-Door Hardtop the once over. He’d bought it on the spot, counting out the price from a huge wad of high value banknotes he said he always carried in case of emergencies. This guy was seriously wealthy—or a braggart. Maybe both. And dumb as shit to carry around that much cash. Both Jerry and I had pegged him as gay, and Jerry had pegged him as available, something I wasn’t, and flirted accordingly. Mike wore baggy blue jeans, navy sneakers and a black cotton T-shirt that hugged his chest so tight his hard nipples could have poked your eye out if you got too close. He looked to be around thirty with shaggy, black hair that he flicked with his fingers to keep it out of his hazel bedroom eyes. I would have been flirting as well, if I hadn’t already been in a relationship, although said relationship was as rocky as a row boat in the North Atlantic at the moment. However, we liked to give the outward impression we were the perfect couple.
We had been when we first started out five years before. Billy was the five-feet-eight, tanned skinned, blond haired, blue-eyed beauty with the snug little body that had only gotten better and more defined when he’d ‘discovered’ the gym. I would have said ‘obsessed’ with the gym since his retrenchment as a sous-chef in a restaurant that didn’t survive the economic downturn. That was just one of the problems. I was the other. I’m slightly taller, thinner and two years older at twenty-eight, with dirty blond hair matched with dirty blond eyes. That’s what Billy called them when we first met at a bar that was so humid inside we didn’t know whether the air conditioning had failed or whether we were so hot for each other we were producing our own power surge.
By the time we’d both emerged from our sex-addled euphoria, we found ourselves saddled with a substantial mortgage on a fifth-floor apartment in a high-rise development full of gay couples and solos, with minimalist but classy furniture, expensive cultural and social tastes, and maxed out credit cards. There is no way we could afford a separation, even if we’d wanted one.
We didn’t. We were still comparatively happy together. We fitted, in the parlance of our friends and neighbors. We were popular. A little too popular. The apartment complex was a breeding ground of temptation and infidelity: attractive, buff boys of every color, class, creed and combination. I was like a kid in a rainbow hued candy store, and I wanted a taste of everything. Billy, however, was all eyes front, prim as a Sunday-go-to-meeting front pew fundamentalist.
Trouble is I was finding it hard to, well, get hard for the same old/same old boyfriend after all these years. No one wants to eat meat and potatoes year in year out, so why would they want to fuck the same ass regardless of how cute? The solution, we’d decided, was Paris, and not because of any overt familiarity with the city, but just a general romantic longing to spice up our lovemaking, which had become as stodgy as porridge. But financially, Paris was as far away as Mars.
That’s why we’d been sniping at each other all afternoon, the atmosphere taut as tensile wire across a paddock, when an uninvited and unwelcome Jerry, with two new buddies in tow, arrived for an up-close-and-personal look at our exhibitionist neighbor.
“What’s he doing here?” Billy hissed when I told him who had just buzzed our apartment. “You know I can’t stand the ugly toad.”
“I didn’t invite him,” I snarled back.
Just then he barreled through the open front door, and we both beamed our best imitation smiles at him. He was too crass to notice, but his buddies did.
“Knew you wouldn’t mind,” he said. “You know Mike already, and this is his young mate, Raoul. Where’re the binoculars?” Jerry was all couth.
Raoul, about the same vintage as Mike, tattooed and twice as good looking, had an attitude to match. “If he’s as hot as Jerry here says, why don’t we go jump him and tattoo his ass with our spunk!” One look through the binoculars was enough to convince him.
“You sure you don’t know his number, man? Or even his apartment, so I can go buzz him.” Unluckily for Raoul, our neighbor lived in a security building, but that didn’t prevent him from shouting obscene invitations across the street to zero success, and to my utter embarrassment.
“You should have bought extra binoculars and installed cinema chairs for the show.” Billy was at his sarcastic stage.
“Hey, chill out,” Raoul said. “This is some show.”
“Tell me about it,” Billy said. “I got up the other night for a drink and came out here to find Steve fully naked and jerking off while he watched pretty boy over there in action. He didn’t even realize I was watching him until he blew his load in the Zamioculcas zamiifolia. And it’s not the first time.”
Raoul was getting irritable and horny. “In the fuckin’ what?”
“Those plants over there,” Billy said, pointing at our Zanzibar ferns.
“Sick, dude,” said Mike.
“It’s not like I do it every night,” I said, trying to placate Billy and keep the evening peaceful. I didn’t want an argument in front of the guests. “Anyway his show that night was something else. There was a group thing going on, and I was hard as steel.”
“Glad something can still make you hard because it sure isn’t me,” he said.
“Oh, shiiiiit,” Jerry said. “He’s got company.”
Even Billy moved to the balcony to have a look. Our neighbor never did it in the bedroom, always in the living room, either for our benefit, because he appreciated an audience, or maybe because he never washed his bed sheets. His brazen behavior encouraged mine and I no longer tried to hide the fact I jerked off to him.
Not any more than our little group was attempting to hide the fact we were watching him as closely as teen sci-fi geeks at a Star Trek convention.
Raoul moaned. “That’s a great ass, dude.”
“Not what I’d call a great ass,” Billy said.
“Fuck, I’d slip him a bit any time,” came Jerry.
I tried lightening the mood. “You’d slip anyone a bit any time.”
“Just exactly what would you class as a great ass then?” Mike asked with an arch of an eyebrow.
Billy shrugged. “Mine, for example.” He patted his butt.
If I’d been honest I would have agreed with him, but in a stale relationship the ass across the street was more appetizing than that readily available in my bed.
Mike laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“We’ll have to take your word for it,” Jerry said.
Billy smiled. “Don’t believe me?”
Mike looked from Billy to the exhibitionist across the way. He turned the binoculars on Billy. “I guess Steve will have to be the judge because he’s the only one who’s seen both.”
I was angry our private life was being aired in front of my boss and virtual strangers. “Leave me out of it.”
“You’d be biased anyway,” Mike chipped in.
“There’s only one way to settle this,” Raoul said eagerly. “He’ll have to show us.”
I didn’t like where this was heading.
“His visitor is porking his ass. Fuck, that is so hot.” Jerry had turned back to the free show across the street.
There was a scramble. We grabbed the binoculars from one another for a close up of our neighbor bent over the back of his divan, a hung top pounding him from behind. Even without the aid of glasses, we could see it was quite a performance
“I could give you a much better show,” Billy said.
Mike chuckled. “Man, there’s no way. That guy is hot. Just look at him.”
Lightning fast, Billy had his tank top off to reveal his marbled six pack with the small fluff of blond hair that snaked down under his army fatigues, which just as quickly dropped round his ankles. All that separated him from total nakedness was his navy striped briefs that clung to his bulging package and hugged his ass like toffee to an apple.
“Fuck, I thought I was ripped,” Raoul said and flexed his arm. His bicep was good enough to lick.
I gulped my bourbon. I was losing control of the situation.
Billy dimmed the lights and programmed the CD player. Suddenly, “Sin” by Nine Inch Nails thundered through the apartment. I watched horrified as he slowly gyrated his body and wagged his ass like some cheap pole dancer, miming the lyrics about being ‘defaced’ and ‘disgraced’ as he swayed around the room like an Indian cobra under the influence of a Hindu snake charmer. Mike and Raoul were in party mood, whooping and hollering. As my lover swept his hips tantalizingly within reach, Mike opened his wallet and tucked a note into the band of Billy’s briefs. Raoul was keen to join the testosterone melee that was engulfing the room and grabbed a handful of cash to shove down the front of Billy’s increasingly revealing underwear while taking the opportunity to cop a feel. Jerry, as usual, was content to sit on his wallet.
I was acutely embarrassed. On the other hand, Billy’s eyes shone. Before I could scramble to retrieve his clothing and drag him into the bedroom, even before telling everyone the party was over, he panted and patted his butt cheeks.
Print ISBN 978-1-909934-07-8 Cover Price 16.99
eBook ISBN 978-1-909934-20-7 Cover Price: 9.99
Length: 508 pdf Pages / 91272 words
Group / Orgy / Ménage, Gay Erotica, Contemporary
Heat rating: 5
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