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THE PEACOCK FEATHER FAN

DAC

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THE PEACOCK FEATHER FAN

 

 

This morning I was alone. Jack had enough and flew back to Houston last night. It had been a long time coming but when I saw the ring I gave him sitting by the alarm I knew he was never coming back.

 

Things haven’t been the same since he got that job in Texas. My job, my house, my life was in New Orleans. He came back the weekend before Mardi Gras Day (Fat Tuesday) and planned to be back at work in Houston on Wednesday. He didn’t even make it through Sunday night. Monday I met friends at the big parade and they asked about Jack. I was honest and a good friend told me it for the best. We were pelted with beads but I just stood there in shock. It was like I was in the middle of a vortex with life going on all around me. I got really drunk at the after parade party.

 

So this was Mardi Gras Day and it was a cold 37 degree morning. Maybe it will be warmer for The Annual Drag Queen Costume Contest that started at noon on Bourbon Street. Despite my hangover I promised my friend I would be there to see him in costume. I knew he had to see me there so I grabbed my flamboyant peacock feather fan. All I had to do was hold it up at arm’s length over my head and open it when he walked out on the balcony.

 

I showered, shaved, and cleaned myself out because I wasn’t sure if anybody took advantage of my drunken state–yes I was that drunk. So drunk I found myself naked in my own bed this morning and didn’t know how I got home. By the time it was time to go to the contest I was hydrated enough that the headache was only a dull reminder.

 

Forget street costumes–most people were covered by a coat. The street queens in their elaborate costumes were prancing on the corner of Royal and Orleans as usual so I stopped to take some pictures. Jack dressed up like that last year and gave the costume away when he moved to Houston.

 

I held up my fan opening and closing it several times when I saw Ted. He pointed at me and flashed.

 

“Boyfriend?” I guy behind my left ear asked.

 

“Just a friend,” I said as I turned to leave. I was a bit taken aback by the guy. Ski jacket over a hooded sweatshirt, bearded, and hunky. His jacket bulged at the shoulders and chest.

 

“Leaving so soon?” he asked. 

 

“Obligations met,” I explained but didn’t move. “Are you cold?”

 

“I was until you turned around,” he chuckled.

 

“Oh brother what a bad pick-up line,” I laughed and started pushing my way through the crowd. Suddenly a big blue jacket stepped in front of me running interference. The throng was parting like the Red Sea and I followed him. “Hey thanks,” I said as we exited on Orleans Street.

 

“Hungry for lunch?” he asked as we reached St. Peter Street. He pulled my arm toward the Gumbo Shop restaurant. 

 

“Hey Gaston, I don’t even know your name,” I said as we were seated.

 

 “Gaston?”

 

“Gaston the character from Beauty and the Beast. He was always being all alpha just like you,” I explained. He sat back and laughed.

 

“Yeah but Belle didn’t go with him. You came with me!”

 

“I’m hungry and this place is great. We were lucky to get a table.”  

 

“Mark Hastings who just moved from the Florida Keys,” he said extending his hand.

 

We had a pleasant lunch and I invited him to join me at the parades on Canal Street. We watched Zulu and he caught a prized coconut. By the time Rex rolled by I was done but Mark was all warmed up and ready to watch the endless truck parade. I tapped him on his shoulder and handed him the bag of beads he caught.

 

“Going home,” I told him. His face fell. “Wanna come?” I asked. He beamed.

 

Once in the house Mark shed the layers of outer clothes revealing twenty-four inch arms and a fifty-five inch chest. Then he peeled off his tee shirt and my feet were glued to the floor as he moved closer. He stopped inches from my face. I nearly creamed my pants just looking at him!

 

“Hi sexy,” he said softly.

 

“Fucking Gaston!” I gasped.

 

“Mark,” he corrected me as he moved to kiss me. His kiss unfroze me and my hands felt his massive muscles. I considered myself to be a pretty fit until he stripped off his shirt. I had great abs, arms, and a slim waist. 

 

When I walked into the house I felt like I was in charge, I was confident and relaxed. That all changed when the behemoth walked up to me and stripped. Standing just a few inches away was an absolute mountain of pure, raw muscle!  He was huge and I found myself mesmerized by this handsome man. I couldn’t take my hands off his gargantuan biceps. My cock had hardened in my briefs and then he stripped me down. My dick was bulging obscenely out of my briefs. I opened his belt and he stepped out of his jeans. His big hard cock hit my abs.

 

“Fuck me?” Mark whispered. “I hope you’re versatile because I wanna fuck you too.”

 

A week later Jack called. I realized that I hadn’t thought about Jack’s hunky body since I bumped into Mark on the street. 

 

“No, you better stay in Houston,” I said. “It is over and I changed the locks,” I smiled. “Yes Jack you have been replaced.” I knew my friend Ted told Jack all about Mark. Just then Mark walked in naked and all pumped from working out. He ran his hand over my chest and kissed me. The phone found the cradle and Mark carried me to bed.   

 

 

 

 

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I hope that, like Gaston, EVERY LAST INCH [of Mark] IS COVERED IN HAIR!

And, yes, he's an ass, but I've had a crush on Gaston since the moment I set eyes on him! Nothing sexier than fur on muscle and he has a (animated) fuck ton of both!

THANKS for this one!

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