Foreword: Inspired by the song Bassline Junkie by Dizzie Rascal in which he repeatedly chants “big, dirty stinkin’ bass”, I decided it would be fun to create some kind of pun around that and throw together something involving the heavy beats of music, DJs and sexual fetishes. PLUS a sprinkling of love for the hairy bear x twink combination. I hope you enjoy whatever may ensue in the next few paragraphs (because I have no idea at the time of writing this part).
Big Dirty Stinkin’ Ass
Jason had had enough of DJ-ing for school discos, weddings and other such functions. Music was his undying passion, his lifeblood. Ever since he was a teenager, the beat had resounded inside him like it was his own pulse. That beat lived there comfortably, nestled right between his love of men in tight stretchy shorts and travelling. Still, he rarely had the chance to release his full potential when it came to playing music. It seemed like the beauty of what he wanted to play was lost on kids and adults who had no interest in the classics, from the days when you could walk into a shop and be confronted with entire walls of vinyl.
Now it was a mere jumble of data streamed through the likes of Spotify and YouTube. Things were bound to change, but nothing was really that magical anymore. Jason was only thirty-six, but he was already beginning to feel so much older than that. The fond memories he harboured of those euphoric ambles around local record stores as a child would stick with him forever, but he was also afraid that someday those memories might not even be memories anymore. This was something that played on his mind constantly. What if he forgot all about that feeling, and he could never retrieve it? What if the sparkle and joy he was holding onto so tightly died in some strange case of synaptic failure?
For now at least, those memories and that feeling were stored away, deep in the recesses of his mind.
One Friday afternoon, Jason had just finished hosting a disco for high school leavers. The requests had been incessant the whole evening, and nobody could make up their minds about what they wanted to hear. Those students were about to embark on a new phase in their lives. Jason knew that he needed to make his move too, doing something he truly loved. After all, he’d been working this job for the past ten years, and had grown exhausted from all the monotony.
He submitted his resignation notice to his boss the following Monday. This was met with some chagrin on the boss’s part, but Jason felt like it was the right thing to do and as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Two weeks passed and Jason managed to get hired as a DJ at a gay club called Python’s Den. Club-based DJ-ing was something he’d never done before, but was more than willing to get stuck into. Thankfully a friend of a friend was the owner of the place. It was fortunate timing, really, and he was grateful for the opportunity. Finally, he thought, a crowd who could appreciate all those finer nuances, dance with the utmost passion to the classics, and serve up a boatload of attitude.
Being able to flex his musical muscles in the gay club scene could also be the golden ticket to ‘other’ desirable things. Namely sex. While Jason didn’t consider himself to be a slut by the average gay man’s standards, he hadn’t had a good fuck in a long time and he was eager to get balls deep into someone again. Couldn’t playing decent music help with that?
On the first night, a Saturday, Python’s Den was packed to the brim with guys and a smattering of women who had maybe tagged along for moral support. Not that lesbian couples didn’t come in from time to time, but the place was renowned as a hot spot for gay male hookups. It was one of the most popular clubs in town. Let’s put it this way, the bathroom wasn’t only a bathroom, and there were services that catered to so much more than taking a dump or a whizz. A special room had been set up next door with a range of condoms and sex toys available in vending machines out back. If that didn’t give an indication of the type of place Python’s Den was, there was no telling what would.
Jason had set up his mixing deck and turntables several hours earlier, so all he needed to do now was get up on stage and liaise with the lighting guys on the mezzanine floor. The equipment was much higher spec than he was used to, but he relished the chance to give everything a spin. At the very least, the controls were easy to manipulate.
He took a step up, grabbed the microphone and introduced himself to the crowd. The spotlight focused on the stage.
“Hi.” Jason’s breathing was a little shaky. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”
Hundreds of hushed murmurs could be heard across the venue. Men looked up at him, cocking their heads to one side and studying him like he was a rare specimen. Some of them smacked their lips, others scoffed and buried their faces in whatever cocktail they were drinking.
The reception was more lukewarm than he’d ever got at another function. “Um…I-I’m Jason…and I’ll be DJ-ing here a few nights each week.”
“What!? I can’t hear you. Speak up, twink!”
Jason turned his head towards the source of the comment, only to spot it coming from a familiar face in the crowd.
It was none other than his ex, Hamish. They hadn’t been in communication for quite some time. After all, their break-up had been acrimonious and it seemed that Hamish still held a grudge against him.
Not tonight…of all nights
“Hey…” Jason smiled through his bitterness and waved at Hamish. The brought the mic back to his lips. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Hamish laughed heartily. “Been a while?”
“Well, I mean…”
“How could it have been a while when I’ve never even met you?”
Jason was angry. How could Hamish completely deny that anything had happened between them? They’d been dating for a year and two months.
That was it. Revenge time.
“We dated, we fucked, we even lived together. You certainly like to dip right into people’s lives and ruin them, don’t you?”
Hamish grinned—a grin that was all at once flirtatious and menacing—and pushed his way through the crowd, who were now quiet as mice as they witness a drama about to unfold. He reached the stage and pointed up at Jason, like a judge accusing a guilty party in court.
“And you, my sweet sweet Jay-Jay, you really liked it when I made you come with only a butt plug and a feather,” he said, raising his voice. “I remember how you’d cry out for attention when I got home, moaning and whining when you didn’t get your cock teased.”
Jason took a swig from his bottle of water. He felt anxious. Things weren’t off to a good start so far and he knew he needed to try and make a good impression with the audience. It was just so typical of Hamish to stir up trouble, and he knew far too many people in the gay community to have kept anything about their relationship quiet. Gossip was rife and people were just gagging for something new to ruminate on.
“Please, Hamish…” Jason put his hands into a prayer stance, still holding the mic limply between his fingers. “I’m here for work. There’s no need for all this.”
“You’re begging me?” Hamish’s eyes narrowed as his smile widened. The way the light hit that expression made him look terrifying. “I swear you’re no better now than the dog you always were. Bark doggy, bark!”
The looks on people’s faces and the clicking of tongues suggested there was a feeling of dissatisfaction and resentment taking over the room. Jason was sure nobody wanted to see this verbal battle ensue. It was none of their business anyway.
Jason raised his head to address the crowd. “I-I’m really sorry about this everyone. I’ll get the music started in just a second.” He scratched his temples, wondering what the hell to do about his nuisance of an ex. He squatted down on the stage and brought his face closer to Hamish’s. “Look…we can talk about this afterwards if you really want to but right now, I’m busy, okay? I do not appreciate the way you’re hijacking this for me. So, enjoy the music I’m about to play or get the fuck out of this club.”
“Oh-ho-ho. Wow, talk about hostile!” Hamish punched Jason in the arm. It wasn’t especially painful, but enough to leave a small bruise. “Alright, not that seeing your face hasn’t ruined my evening but fuck it…I’ll stay.” He spat onto the stage, walked back into the melee of clubbers. Once back in position, with his arms firmly wrapped around two hairless twinks who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen, he started to clap. It was slow and deliberate at first, but gradually built up to a crescendo of faster, rhythmic claps. One by one, the rest of the crowd joined in. “Show us what you’ve got Jay-Jay!” Hamish shouted above the din of the clapping. “Come on!”
Jason tried his best to ignore him, but the hint of a smile crept back onto his face. What a prick, he thought. I’ll never date someone like him again. He put the first vinyl discs onto the respective turntables and quickly programmed a few settings on the mixing deck. He signalled to the lighting guys and brought the mic back to his mouth.
“Who’s ready to boogie?”
“Yes!” bellowed a muscular man in a rainbow hi-vis jacket. “How much longer are you going to keep us waiting honey? Give us some sugar!”
Jason laughed and threw the crowd a sultry smirk.
“Coming up, queens!”
There was a roaring cheer as the beat dropped. Jason had opted to open with his own special remix of ‘Flamboyant’ by The Pet Shop Boys, one that was significantly bassier than usual. The owner had tipped him off that the group were a staple at the club, so he thought this would be a good choice.
Jason slipped his headphones on and looked out over the masses of people swinging and swaying, bustling up against one another and making crop circles in the crowd. He bopped in time to the music, getting deeper into the rhythm as he started to feel the beat coursing through his veins. He glanced over to the left side of the room, finally resting his eyes on someone who appeared to be staring holes through him; a man who was tall, broad and absolutely covered in hair—this one was a real bear in every sense of the word. Jason shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus his attention on scanning the room evenly to watch how much everybody was enjoying the music. Knowing he was providing a great experience gave him a solid sense of achievement.
That would distract him-
But he couldn’t help noticing how the man seemed to have his eyes firmly locked on him. In a strange way, he seemed to be luring him back with that sultry gaze.
Fuck’s sake, I’m working, thought Jason.
Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew how hookups worked, and normally a single glance was all it took to catch someone and pull them into a magnetic sphere of lust and engage in a dirty, passionate fuck. It was all too predictable, as if there were a formula for these things. He was horny all right, but that wasn’t going to derail his innate sense of professionalism. There was a time and a place for sex with strangers, and this really wasn’t it.
The man looked Jason up and down, then licked his lips hungrily. He unbuttoned his carefully ironed shirt to reveal two expertly toned pecs beneath. Those were one thing, but his belly was comparatively large and even hairier. Although Hamish had not been especially hairy, this was Jason’s preferred look and he always sought out porn featuring big, furry bears. They were his ultimate weakness. A lot of people liked the sweaty, ripped guys who had been rendered completely hairless courtesy of their local salon, but not Jason. He was a regular build, a tad on the skinny side, with small tufts of pubic hair and not much else, so having a gigantic bear ramming him from behind was something he got all light-headed for. Just imagining it was giving him a semi. It wasn’t particularly embarrassing and in any case, the room was too dark for anybody to notice.
‘Flamboyant’ was coming to an end. Jason broke eye contact with the man and tended to the mixing deck to queue up the next song.
He grabbed the mic and coughed to clear his throat. “Well, I hope you all enjoyed that. Just…um…a little something I put together, especially for you lot. Can I get a few cheers for The Pet Shop boys?” The crowd made a significant raucous in response. He laughed. “I hear you’re obsessed with them here.”
The outspoken guy in the hi-vis jacket piped up again. “Honey, who isn’t?”
“I know….right?” said Jason, still slightly taken aback by this guy’s flair. “Best group of the 80s by far.”
“Oh no, love,” shouted another, “Not the best, but…” He clicked his tongue. “Alright, yes….one of.”
“Leave it out,” said Hi-vis. “Your words are unnecessary, honey.”
“Oh really? Then, tell me bitch, who are the best?” The man was really ramping up the sass now.
“Okay.” Jason wanted to take back control of the room so he could continue working through the set list. “I think we all have different opinions about this, but one thing I hope we can all agree on is that Ms Kylie Minogue is ab-so-fucking-lutely superb! At least, you better think that, ’cause I am putting her on next.” He smiled, cutely. “And if you don’t like it, you can get your gay arses out of this club. Don’t @ me.”
“This isn’t Twitter, honey. Nobody can ‘at’ you,” said Hi-vis. “But we bloody love Kylie don’t we boys?”
The music kicked in, and the festivities recommenced.
One and a half hours later, break time rolled around. During the entire set, Mr. Bear had been eyeing Jason up, unrelentless in his pursuit of a good fuck. Desperate for a piss, Jason stepped down from the stage and headed straight for the bathroom. He was able to relieve himself in a matter of seconds, but on the way out he bumped into the one person he was trying hard to avoid—Mr. Bear himself.
Mr. Bear’s shirt was still wide open and the chest hair was now millimetres away from Jason’s face. He could smell the musky stench of sweat clinging to the hair, and it made him feel woozy. It was completely intoxicating. Jason trembled. Mr. Bear was a lot bigger up close, and there was no telling what was going to happen next. Neither said a word, but their stares remained fixed on one another.
Jason found himself half submitting to that same dominant look Mr. Bear had shot him earlier. He reached out, hands shaking, and traced his fingers over those firm pecs, over the pert nipples. pinching at the hair that decorated them. Afterwards, he inched downwards and rubbed Mr. Bear’s pot-belly in large, exploratory circles, before lightly fingering at the cavern where his belly button was. The sweat was drawing him in, closer, leaving him craving more.
As he looked up at Mr. Bear, it was clear he was enjoying the attention, judging by the smirk on his face. Jason bit his lower lip, and then proceeded to stick his tongue out, moved in and began licking up the sweet, sweet perspiration. It was hot inside the venue, in more ways than one but this was bucket loads of sweat, way more than average, and it turned Jason on immensely.
Mr. Bear finally broke the silence. “How long’s your break?” His voice was exactly as gruff and deep as Jason had hoped it would be.
Jason was unable to hold back. “H-however long it needs to be.” He gulped.
“No, come on. It’s your first night on the job,” Mr. Bear ran his fingers through Jason’s hair. “Don’t mess it up, eh?”
“So, are we going to um…fuck, or-?”
Mr. Bear unbuckled his belt and ushered Jason into the self-titled ‘Slither Room’—where all the cum-inducing magic happened. It was a fairly economically designed room; clean, yet lacking any kind of personality whatsoever, which for a gay club seemed unthinkable. Still, it was fit for purpose, so Jason really couldn’t complain. There were, at least some free condoms on the side.
Closing the door, Mr. Bear tensed the belt between his hands.
“I-I just want to make it clear, before we get started,” said Jason. “I’m not really into, you know…punishment…stuff.”
“Well then, it’s your lucky day,” Mr. Bear laughed. “‘Cause neither am I.”
“Oh, that’s a relief,” said Jason.
“I’m a kind-hearted bloke, but I do like a rough fuck.”
“As do I.” It finally seemed like they were on the same page. Jason undressed, his slender frame ready to be showered with lust. “Which position?”
“I’d like to be lying on my back,” said Mr. Bear. “That way, I get to see the cute expression on your face while you’re fucking me.”
“Yeah, of course, no prob-” Jason stopped, only just taking in what Mr. Bear had said. “Hang on, did you just say…while I’m fucking you?”
“Yeah. What…did you think I was going to top?” Mr. Bear chuckled to himself. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I give it eighty percent of the time. Tonight, I’m here to reclaim some of that leftover twenty.”
Jason’s experience only included topping a handful of times, and none of his partners had ever complimented him on his efforts, so he mostly ended up bottoming by default.
In some respects, he was the polar opposite of Mr. Bear.
“That’s what you want to do? I’m pretty fucking tight in there. I promise it’ll feel good,” he said, a little sultrily.
“Oh…” Mr. Bear grinned and stroked Jason’s naked buttocks before giving them a determined slap, which resounded throughout the room. “I am not disparaging your arse, sweet-cheeks.” He fondled Jason’s balls with one hand, and with the other he felt his way along the length of the slim, rigid cock that was greeting him. It was already replete with pre-cum and veins that looked to be on the brink of bursting.
Jason flinched at his touch. “Is my cock going to be enough for you? I mean…it’s just that you’re a big guy.”
“You think I don’t know that? Your fucking cock looks more than ripe enough to give my arsehole a proper going over, mate.”
Ripe? thought Jason. It’s not the word I’d use, but yeah…
“Okay then. I…accept your proposal.” Jason motioned for Mr. Bear to get onto the bed.
Mr. Bear obliged and sat in the middle of the bed, slipping his trousers off. “You make this sound like a business arrangement.”
“Sorry, was that a buzzkill?”
“No, you’re alright,” said Mr. Bear. “You’ve still got my attention…” He removed his boxers and released his thick, pulsing cock in all its glory. “…in all the important places at least.”
Jason ran his eyes over Mr. Bear’s exposed body. He really was a gorgeous specimen. For all intents and purposes, maybe his physique wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but you could knit a jumper out of that body hair. It was sexy in its utter rawness. Jason smiled and pushed Mr. Bear down gently onto the mattress, still with enough firmness to put him in his desired place. He parted his legs wide and pinned him down in a straddle. Then, he took Mr. Bear’s cock, pressed it flush against his own and started to stroke them slowly together.
He trailed a long line of saliva down onto his own tip before spreading it all over. That would help to loosen things up nicely. Mr. Bear closed his eyes and let out a strained, guttural moan. He took Jason’s index finger and sucked on it with tenderness and lust. His mouth was wet and warm, and his tongue curled around Jason’s joints and fingertips so expertly. Meanwhile, Jason put his award-winning frotting technique™ into full operation. His spit and precum combined to form a translucent natural lube which made everything that much more slippery. Jason slid his hand along their slicked-up cocks, teasing the underside of the head. Hard as they both were, when pressed inwards, everything was delectably squishy. Jason could feel the way they pulsed together, flowing so thick and heavy beneath his grip.
Jason raised his proud cock towards himself, and after a few seconds he released it so it fell right against Mr. Bear’s abdomen, causing a resounding slap to echo throughout the room. Mr. Bear’s pot belly gave a slight, adorable wobble as Jason’s cock made contact with it, and Mr. Bear caught his breath as he flinched in reaction.
“How do you like my cock?” Jason thought it best to offer some commentary to ramp things up a little.
“Mmm.” Mr. Bear licked his lips and the corners of his mouth bent into a smirk. “Get that thing inside me…”
“You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” Jason arched his back and cowered over Mr. Bear, leaning in to catch his tongue, nibbling it lightly with his teeth. He looked Mr. Bear directly in the eyes, just like how he’d been captivated when he was on the stage. “How badly do you want it?”
“Pretty fucking badly.”
Jason took his time sliding his fingers up over Mr. Bear’s face, all the way from chin to forehead. Then, he dug his nails into Mr. Bear’s scalp—just enough to create a sensation of friction there—before taking a fistful of hair in his right hand. “Don’t think you’re going to get off lightly just because I usually bottom for people.” His left hand was still wrapped around their cocks and as he said these words, he felt Mr. Bear twitch accordingly.
“Yes. I want you to fuck me hard,” said Mr. Bear, already somewhat breathless. “And don’t…hold…back.”
Jason tore open one of the Durex wrappers, took out a ribbed condom and eased it carefully over his engorged cock, applying a good amount of pressure as it slipped on. Then, he leaned over to Mr. Bear’s hair-covered chest and teased at it gently with his teeth. He coated the masses of black fluff with saliva, and rubbed it in so it became all wet and soppy.
“Screw this position.” Jason looked up at Mr. Bear. “If you want me to ram this cock into you like there’s no tomorrow, we’re going with doggy style.” He pointed at the full-length mirror hanging over the bed. “You’ll still get to see my face.”
“Hah.” Mr. Bear nodded. “Makes sense.”
Jason stood up and gave his cock a few extra strokes for luck. “Well then, be a good bear and get on all four like you’re supposed to,” he said, deepening the tone of his voice just enough to have something of a commanding edge. “Let me take a good long look at that hairy arse of yours.”
Mr. Bear obliged, got onto his hands and knees, and turned towards the mirror with his arse raised up into the air.
Oh baby, am I going to enjoy this! Jason thought, a soft smirk coming to him.
Although it was certainly an unexpected twist from his perspective, topping for Mr. Bear no longer seemed like a burden or an embarrassment to Jason. At that moment, all he desired was to breed this bear’s tight, fluffy arsehole until he could fill him to the brim with a huge load of dripping, pearlescent cum.
Jason gave Mr. Bear’s arse a swift smack, spat right into his crack and massaged it into the coat of fur that adorned them. The hair was even denser and more alluring around his anus. Jason prised the cheeks apart, moved in and took a good, strong whiff of that hole.
“Phew!” Jason’s eyes widened as he took in the stench of the sweat that had accumulated there. “That’s musky as anything!”
“Does it smell nasty?” Mr. Bear looked over his shoulder, sounding somewhat apologetic.
“Oh, no. Believe me…” Jason kissed Mr. Bear’s left buttock and gripped the rolls of flesh beneath his fingers. “This is exactly what I like. Big, dirty, stinkin’ ass.”
“Then why don’t ya hurry up and dig in?” Mr. Bear’s cock twitched again. “Bon appetit!”
“Hmm.” Jason whispered into Mr. Bear’s ear.”You asked for it.”
Jason positioned himself squarely at Mr. Bear’s entrance and teased the area around his rim with the tip of his cock. He rocked forwards and backwards a little so it expanded and contracted as it explored the tight opening. Mr. Bear’s arse might have been a huge fucking thing, but that hole sure as hell wasn’t. The contrast was appealing to Jason.
As Jason thrust into him, Mr. Bear let out a choked sputter. “O-oh god!”
“Brace yourself, bear. I’m going to pound you like a sack of flour.”
Mr. Bear snickered. “Enough with all the pleasantries. Just move already, Christ!”
Jason withdrew his cock until it was all the way out. He held it suspended there for a few seconds. It was simply more entertaining to let the guy wait for the next taste.