Author: admin

I can smell him. Or I should say. Us. Our scent permeates the cheaply paid-for room like dollar store-brand aftershave. It was a hastily chosen hotel just down from the street from the bar. Just a block or two within walking distance. We could barely contain ourselves as we stood at the outside check-in window. Groping and fondling each other up along with some random kisses thrown in for good measure. Those got stares from the female night clerk, not of disgust, mind you. I am sure she has seen many gay hook-ups from the bar in these early morning hours, just like us. It had not started out as this hot and heavy but had progressed once he walked up to me. Smiled. And told me who he was. But his name escapes me, now, as he lightly snores next to me. Amid the brightly colored strobe lights and blaring throwback disco music we talked. Or in my case, I nodded and said, “yes,” as I attempted to understand all of what he was saying to me. Over the many distractions.

It was my first visit to a bar in almost eight years. Far too long, some of my friends would say. But I decided I would go. I struggled as I paced the room. I needed to get out of the muck of my own self-isolation and put myself back out there. My life was different now. The long-held relationship over. It had been so for a while. He was not going to appear at my door. Just by wishing it to be so. Despite all of what he had told me. Promised me. It was not going to happen. I needed to realize it and move on. But it was painful. I admit.

It was another one of my failures. Chalk it up to being my life. I could provide you with a list, but you would tell me to, “shut the fuck up,” or “get off your ass and quit feeling sorry for yourself.” Yep. I heard them all. Even told them to myself as I paced the room. But I got ready, as much as I could with what I had. Since I did not have a habit of going out. I had managed to scrounge up some money. I had some cash. Enough for a drink a two. Left my debit card at home. I could not afford to spend but so much. Money was at a minimum. I also had my hidden fifty-dollar bill in my “secret” compartment of my wallet. It was strictly for emergencies. It was what I would use to pay for my portion of the room. I did not need to spend it, but a hard cock had become my compass.

Earlier I had left my apartment and walked the necessary several blocks to the bar. It was already dark. Approaching the ten o’clock late hour. On this Wednesday night. If I recollect. Like I said, I did not have much and my apartment was far from spacious. A big step-down from the condo I once shared with him in the nicer part of the downtown bayfront community. In fact, where I lived now, it was in the outskirts of town. The part of town right before it becomes known as, “the bad part.” This is now where I called home. I clutched my jacket close to me. Trying to look as invisible as I could as I clomped along the cracked sidewalk, trying not to stumble as I bent my head downward. I had no plans to do anything except to have a drink or two as I sat at the stool at the bar. But a beer. A single beer loosened me up. By this time, I was happy I ventured out.

I got into the music. It reminded me of my ole high school days. Over 30 years ago now. I should tell you I am fifty-three. Minus the beer belly that many of my contemporaries have developed. I have never been much of the beer drinker despite the brown long-neck bottle I am chugging as I park myself on the uncomfortable stool. The last time I had one had been on the last visit to the bar with him. He tended to drink more than me. I could barely finish one off before I grew tired of it. Such was not the case with him. He drank them like bottles of water.

It was at some point I felt some eyes on me. I know in a bar there are eyes always on you coming from all directions. Everywhere. But this felt different. I kept sensing something. Someone. I scanned the bar until I pinpointed who I thought it to be. I did a glance and then back. Our eyes locked. Was he the one? I did not know and did not care at this point. I was simply happy someone had their eyes on me. I tended to be the one to play coy and let them come to me. I did not see any point in changing the way I had done things in decades past. But I am older now. Have the rules changed?

Every now and again, I would look in his direction. He never wandered off me. Or was this simply a coincidence. Or imaginings on my part? It was not long before he ventured over. And our conversation started.

But it is the morning now and I can smell us. The room reeks of our exhaustive hours of animal sex. Once we unlocked the door, got in and closed it. The clothes came off. Under the lights of the room, I realized this man was much younger than me. And I could still not recall his name. And to top it off the doubts resurfaced. Was this a mercy hook-up? A mercy fuck for me from him? By this time, I could look him over good. I was not disappointed. Was he? However, would he take to the door when he sees me naked? Or my limp cock?

When his shirt came off. I was happy to see he was blessed with an abundance of flowing chest hair. And he was muscled. Not overly, it looked like it came about through hard work. In between the loud bouts of music at the bar I figured out he had told me he worked in construction. I could see by his body that it had done himself well. He looked to be in his mid-thirties or early forties. His age did not matter, except to my insecurities. Surely, he knew I was over fifty. To me, I looked to be over fifty when I would look in the mirror when we stumbled into this hotel room. The winkles glared out from my face when I saw it staring back at me in the reflection.

He grabbed the underside of my pull-over collared shirt and lifted it over my head. He was not greeted with the same amount of muscle or hair from me, as he was blessed with, but his hand went to my bare chest. He found my nipples and played with them for a few seconds before his mouth went to each and gave them a kiss. Caressed them. I found my cock swelling in my jeans at this gesture. He noticed this and grabbed my bulge. It got me harder. He smiled at what he had stirred up in my jeans.

He kicked his shoes off. And went to his jeans. When his jeans were lowered by his large fingers, there was no underwear underneath. He was as hairy down below as he was up-top. I was not disappointed. His cock sprang forth from his groin like a mighty sword. It was like mine. Cut. And about the length I expected every time I got a fondle. I said to myself when I saw his rigid hardness. He went to my snap and zipper and undid both. As he lowered my jeans, he took my underwear along with them. Soon we were both standing naked in the room.

As we both did a quick once-over of the other person in a split second, I wondered how long before he bolted. But he did not. He leaned in and kissed me. I felt his tongue as he worked it into my mouth. I could taste the beer he had been drinking. He brought both of his strong arms around me and drug me into him. I felt like he was trying to mash me into him. Make us one. Our cocks fought for the much-needed space as he ground himself into me and I did the same. It felt nice to be so close to another naked man. It had been to long. We were both throbbing hard. I could feel every inch of him. The muscles in his legs as we touched. The hairs on his chest as they raked across my almost barren landscape which stiffened my cock even more.

We went to the lone kingside bed that took up most of the room. We positioned into a sixty-nine. It was instantaneous. He did not have to say anything neither did I. My head went toward the head of the bed, his cock pointed at my face and he at the foot with him swallowing my cock before I even had a chance to lock my lips around his stabbing hardness. He was ravenous. He slobbered up my cock so much it felt like each time he went down on me; I felt like I was fucking a tight ass. But it was only his mouth. In-between gasp of ecstasy I managed to swallow him. But he was relentless. He devoured me. We face-fucked each other in a mutual rhythm. We finally got into sync. I was excited but knew I was nowhere near the point of explosion. That is the glory of age.

Despite my age and some necessary surgeries, I still got hard. There was no need for the little blue pill. Of that I was most happy about. Everything worked. Of course, I could not fire off the loads I once did when I visited the many gay resorts out and about the state when I was in my thirties. I could flood the room with cum, back then, and the many men made comments about the size of those spent loads. But time had changed that part of my manhood. But I was far from lacking even at my current age.

“I like to eat ass.” He said to me. “Can I eat yours?” He asked before he went about repositioning me. It was not something I did, but I was all for it were it to be done on me. He did not seem to mind that I was not a partaker, he went rabid on my bunghole as he had on digesting my cock. I was on my stomach as his tongue moistened up my ass. He lapped my crack hairs like there was no tomorrow. It took me a moment to realize that he was preparing me. I have not been the “fuckee” in a while. I usually give myself some time before I let a man plunge his cock into me. I had learned that from my first ever boyfriend. He used it to exert control over me. Since then, and every man after, I was the one on top. At first. This man would be no different.

I hated to interrupt him, but I did not want him thinking he could just ram himself up to the hilt in my ass.

“I only top.” I said as he slobbered up my hole like he had done my cock. But he did not ease up. He was solely focused on his task. I said something, again. He lifted his face from my crack and said, “no worries, I want you to fuck me.” I gave a silent sigh of relief I did not need a row between us on my first one-nighter in years. After my words he went more ballistic on my hole. He found spots I never knew were there, but my cock knew it. As I found I was dumping puddles of my early seedlings in the sheets. I suspect they had company before I added my offering to the mix. The man really loved to munch down on my ass. It was a good thing I showered before I went to the bar. He got himself a spanking clean one.

It was then he came up for some much-needed air. We lay together, he wrapped his arms around me like I was his childhood Teddy Bear. He did not say much or even attempt to kiss me. I could feel his cock as it throbbed against my leg. Mine was pointed to the ceiling as I lay on my back. I could not tell you how long we stayed that way. But I glanced over at the digital clock on the bedside table. It read 2:30 a.m. on a Thursday morning. Christmas Day is set to arrive on Friday. We had checked in at a little after one a.m. I guess this was my gift to myself. I needed it. And wanted it. I admit. I wanted to fuck. To plunge my hard cock once again into a man’s waiting hole.

He rose and took me into his mouth. I had figured what was next on the agenda. He was getting me ready. He slobbered my cock up again. I was so slippery I glistened in the cheap lights across the room. I was ready for him though. I wanted a crack at his ass. When I was sucking his cock, I explored his hole with my fingers. He was tight. The grip on his ass was like a vice. My fingers fought their way in before I finally pierced that hairy veil. He let out at a gasp when I plunged one in, then two, and he nearly bucked me out of the bed when I attempted to send in a third into his hole. He was going to squeeze the all-mighty Dickens out of my cock when I finally got it in there. I wanted him too. I wanted him to squeeze the seed out of me. Drain me dry. Empty me.

He straddled me all Eiffel Tower-like as he loomed over me and my erect cock. This is what I had been wanting for, for years now. I wanted to plunge my cock into this man’s deep ass. He sat down upon me. I watch my cock disappear slowly into his ass. He did not rush down. He eased down. Taking inch-by-inch of me into his hairy-rimmed hole. And like a magic trick my cock was gone from my sight. But his face let me know where it had disappeared too. The grimaces and the winces told me I was hitting him in all the right spots. He rode me. All gentle-like then he would pick up his pace. He was timing each gravity-pulling plunge. He started to scream. To yell. I worried the cops may come busting into the door at any moment from his spectacular outburst, wondering if someone was being murdered in this seedy hotel room but I said to myself in quiet whispers in my head, “Fuck it. Fuck it. Let them come. I will fuck them too.” And he got faster and faster. He was squeezing me with each rise he made up the length of my cock. He was trying to get me to cum. But I wanted it to last longer. But I felt I could noy hold on much longer.

I let out a multiple syllable pronunciation of a one-syllable word: “FFF-UUUUUUU-CCCCCCC-KKK!!!”

The word drowned out his screams of exhilaration as he lets loose his load go from his pent-up cock. I was hit in the face with his white cream. But I only let it stream down my stubbled face as he milked me of all of mine, I had in me. But I wanted to give him more.

Soon our sighs of pleasure filled what was now the quiet void of the room. He fell from me. My cock rebounding as it was released from the tender prison of his once-tight ass. I was still hard.

“I needed that.” Was what he said before I had a chance to voice the same. I did not know how long it had been for him but for me, it had been years. “That’s one nice thick cock you got there.” He said before he rolled over. I let his cum soak into my chest. Perhaps it will give me a burst of this man’s youthful vitality. I was ready to go at it again. But I heard gentle snores come from his side of the bed.

I rolled over and spooned him. He wiggled a bit, telling me I could poke my cock back into his all-ready lubed hole. So, I did. I could feel my warm cream as it spilled forth from his hole. But it made it easier for me to enter him again. He moved his leg, just a bit, as I sank back into his hole. I pumped, all easy like, as we lay on our sides. He took me. After a while, I gave him another load to his ass where I had left the first.

By this time, it was nearly 5 a.m.  I knew I needed some sleep. We both woke up when housekeeping banged loudly on the door. The digital clock said 10:40 a.m. Check out was in twenty minutes. When the realization hit us. We bound like jack rabbits for our strewn clothes in the room. We watched each other dress and take our morning pisses as each stood at the door watching the other empty their respective bladder.

We strolled shoulder-to-shoulder back to the plexiglass check-in window and paid our halves for the room. We stayed just as close as we walked back down the same cracked sidewalk that had brought me to the bar hours earlier. There were several cars in the parking lot. One I assumed was his. And it was.

I followed him to his car. “That was really nice.” I said. He said the same.

“So, do you come out often?” He asked me as he sat in his car, and I stood beside it with his window rolled all the way down.

“No. Actually this is the first time in almost a decade.” I said.

“Yeah. I think you said that last night.” He said, “But it was hard to hear over all that racket.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Do you need a ride?” He asked.

“No.” I said. “I’m good. I had a good time.”

“Me too.” He says.

I admit I did not want him to go but I could tell he wanted to leave. Now was not the time for a lot of mushy stuff.

It was. What it was. And now it was over.

He rolled up his window and pulled out of the parking lot. I wrapped my coat around me and made my way back across the few blocks back to my apartment. Today was Christmas Eve. I had no tree in my apartment nor any gifts either. But when I went to unlock the door. I saw a card tucked into the space between the door and the frame. I turned it over and recognized a familiar handwriting. It was from him. It was his. He had been there while I was out. I did not expect that. Maybe there is hope after all. He says for me to call him.

I have an affinity for bb bottoms. Which is ironic, since I am a bb bottom, myself. But, I am drawn on some primal level that rivals my draw to dominant bb tops. And it all started, as many things of gay fantasy do, in California. 

It was 2006. I was based in NYC and had been sent to Anaheim California for a conference on a new program my company was using. I was warned, in advance, that everything in Anaheim was not magical. The area is, frankly, ugly and barren. And it is referred to as being “behind the Orange Curtain”. Anaheim is in Orange County, and not that friendly to the gay folk at the time. 

All I knew of online cruising was Craigslist. I was on that fast. Found a guy who said he was going to a JO party – lots of guys around jacking off. I was very heavy at the time and had major body issues. But, I decided to throw caution to the wind and go. 

To say there was a variety of people was an understatement. And the only jacking off I saw were if cocks waiting for a hole to open up! It was a smorgasbord of men and my brain couldn’t take it in. 

The entire house was full of men. I don’t remember losing my clothes, but they were gone. Next I knew, I was kneeling in front of a monster of a man with a thick cock I could barely get in my mouth. But I worked every inch inside. Suddenly, I had my first experience of a man burying his cock down my throat to unload. My eyes rolled back in my head and I experienced the inability to breathe being an erotic, intense experience. 

When I opened my eyes, my monster was gone and I was at the side of a bed, where he had been standing. I looked forward and saw this incredibly beautiful young man. He was flat on his stomach and someone was standing on the other side of the bed and pounding into him. He was in ecstasy!  I watched his body pulse with the thrusting as his head rolled side to side, lost in the tide of the erotic energy filling his senses, his lungs, his body. 

His head raise as he arched his back, his eyes opened – and locked into mine. 

It is hard to put that moment into words. What i saw in his eyes was the fulfillment of sexual purpose. It didn’t identify who he was as a human. It had nothing to do with his daily life, career, family, faith, love. This was a person experiencing the penultimate moments of a bliss only felt when all walls are gone and he is allowing his spirit to soar. 

And I wanted it. 

I moved closer, as did he. We grabbed hands and began to kiss. Eyes never leaving each other. 

Suddenly, the man behind him began to grunt and growl. He yelled, “I’m cumming! Take my fuckin load!”  It was at that moment I realized this man was in my new friend raw. My mind reeled. 

For the next two hours, we remained together -Completely connected – Always touching. I had not reached the point of taking loads. But in that time, he took 5 or 6. We changed positions often. Sometimes, he was on his knees between my legs, taking cock while we jacked each other and made out. Holding him tightly while someone unloaded in him and he shivered through an anal orgasm. Occasionally, he would straddle me and guys would take turns eating his ass and sucking my cock. One man put my dick inside him and encouraged me to breed him. While others seemed to like the idea, it was clear and unspoken between the two of us that neither of us were interested in that. 

And, it was clear to me, at that moment, that I wanted nothing so much as to take this man inside me as the next man mounted. To hold him, arms and legs wrapped, letting the man rutting into him create the rhythm that would finally allow him to experience a release, and allow me the thing I really wanted: his load inside me. 

That load represented an open adoration. A primal appreciation of someone who had brought so much pleasure to others. Yes, on some level, I embraced the idea that it would feel like taking all of the loads he had absorbed throughout the evening. But, more, it was the idea of pleasuring the pleaser. If someone who was open and willing to be the receptacle of the passion and energy of all those men, that vessel, also, needed a receptacle. Someone to allow that entity of pleasure a moment of pure, earned, and deserved release. A cleansing. 

I wish I could say that happened. Exactly that way.  

It did not. While we held each other, two men sucked us each. We did explode together and there was a special bliss in that moment. Then one of the men scooped all of the spilled cum together and worked it inside of him. So, while he carried away a part of me, I left with the memory of holding, for a brief time, the epitome of sexualized energy. A being who allowed, for one evening, to be the object of so many men’s sexual release. 

That evening, I became a bottom’s bottom. The person to encourage those taking loads, when I am not. To hold them when I can – the promised tether to reality allowing them to float freely and safely into that sea of spiritual sensuality where every molecule of the body is about pleasure, yes, theirs, but, more-so, on the act of providing that pleasure to others. 

I have never found another experience like this. I have been around others and created small connections. None rivaled the complete connection of bottom energy that locked that young man and I together that night. In love, I have found a connection far beyond that. But, this was the only moment I have found where, without words, two kindred spirits found a way to enjoy a frenzy, grounded and connected. 

And I still look for that moment when, after pleasuring numerous men, I can welcome that vessel of passion inside to release, unload, and just be.

I was up for a sexual adventure. In a few days I’d be heading out of state to care for a family member after surgery, but this weekend—I was ready to be taken care of. I considered myself to be versatile, but I was ready for no-strings-attached sex and wanted to bottom for a pro—someone well-endowed with stellar reviews. So, I logged onto an escort site and quickly recognized a handsome black top visiting town who used to live in my Seattle neighborhood. He was in his 30s, 5’ 9”, and weighed 180 pounds. His hungry eyes exuding energy and I glanced back and forth between his phone number and his full-frontal eleven hard inches.

I had been with black men before, even in Wyoming where I grew up. I had made friends with exchange students and international visitors in my nearly all-white high school—gravitating towards others who didn’t quite fit in. For me as a closeted kid, their differences felt safer somehow, but that didn’t mean that I understood. I cringe remembering the Halloween costume that I suggested for my first black boyfriend—him carrying a spear in a loincloth with me wearing a uniform and a pith helmet. He shot that idea down, rejecting any representation of colonization or slavery and telling me of the violent mutilation of black men’s genitalia by mobs of white men who crushed even the hint of black power or potency.

I had been with black men whose dicks were smaller than my six inches, but this black escort headlined his endowment. “Have you ever wanted to feel the true power of the Black Man inside?” he asked in his profile. “Are you ready to have all of your boundaries smashed?” My reaction was visceral; I had long felt safe with men of color, yet the promise of the power of this man’s big black dick made me queasy.

“Shit,” I said as I dialed his number. “Can my white ass handle this?”

He answered, and just his “Hello,” made me tingle.

“Hi, CutlerX, I’m Steve. I saw your profile,” I began, pausing to remain calm— “and… I think I’d really enjoy your power.”

“Alright now,” He chuckled.

I had put it all right out there upfront and added that I was white, in my forties, 5’ 9”, weighed 160 pounds, had short brown hair and eyes, an average dick, a bubble butt with a tan line, and I was available all day. He was intrigued and we scheduled for later that afternoon.

I was feeling excited and added, “Hey, Cutler, I think”—my voice cracked midsentence like a pubescent teenaged boy; I wasn’t used to being so open and vulnerable with a pro. “I think you’ll enjoy my passion.”

“You’re so sweet,” he said.   

Our schedule gave me plenty of time to get ready. I prepared for a deeper-than-usual experience and when clean and confident, I squeezed commando into my tight black jeans and put on a pink short-sleeved button-down shirt that revealed my hairy chest. It was a 40-minute bus ride to his hotel, and I texted when I was two blocks away.

He greeted me in the lobby with a disarming smile. Like his profile picture, his head was shaved, but he had grown a short-cropped beard. He was wearing a black sleeveless muscle t-shirt that framed his biceps. We were the same height, but he carried at least twenty more pounds of lean muscle. The swing in his gray baggy sweatpants told me that he was commando too. His masculinity and kindness were magnetic, and he seemed to know that I was impressed.

“Hey, Steve!” he said grabbing my hand and pulling me into a short hug appropriate for the lobby.

“The maid will be done with the room real soon,” he said pointing to the seating area.  

We sank into two overstuffed chairs that faced one another. Sometimes he leaned into the comfort with his legs spread wide—I glanced every time. Sometimes he rested with his hands behind his neck, revealing his worked-out shoulders, armpits, and confidence. There were lots of people around and I tried not to stare, but I was flustered and paused more than usual as I spoke. I regained fluency when he leaned forward onto his elbow and knee to listen, which put me at ease.

I had an admission. “Remember when you walked in the Pride Parade. Without a shirt—in an oversized cowboy hat? I’ve been your fan ever since.”

We both laughed.

 “Hey, she should be done,” he said tapping me on the knee. “Let’s head up.”

As I stepped into the elevator, he slipped behind me and leaned against the back wall. I stood facing the door. My bubble butt has been complimented before, but his nearly imperceptible “mmm” sent my heart racing and I wondered if he could hear it beating. The elevator opened, and he graciously thanked the maid who was waiting to ride down; he inserted his room key and pushed the door wide open for me. It clicked shut tight behind us.

His eyes were twinkling. “Glad you’re here, Steve,” he said. He stepped in close, ever so slowly pressing his lips against mine. As he enveloped my lips in his pillowy softness, he warmed the back of my neck with both hands. My lips parted for him as I relaxed into our long cuddle.

He unbuttoned my shirt and helped me out of it, then brushed my cheek with his finger before slowly lifting my tee-shirt over my upraised arms. He pulled his over his head and flung it aside. His abs were smooth but there was a sparse layer of short curly hair on his muscular chest. I explored his torso with my fingertips and observed the growing tent in his sweats that veered left and extended to his hip.

Holding me by my waist, he pulled me closer. He leisurely caressed my neck with kisses and tickled me with his well-cropped beard. His hands slipped down from my waist, and he gently cupped my cheeks in both hands, then squeezed.

“This will be good,” he said.  

I blushed, feeling the heat as blood rushed to my face, aware of his dick pressing against me below. His words, spoken as we throbbed, served as a jolting aphrodisiac that melted any inhibition. I tugged at his waistband and reached inside. He was so thick that I couldn’t close my fingers around him.

“Wow,” I said squeezing.

He pushed his sweats down and stepped back to kick them away. His erection sprang free, plopped against his abs, and was bouncing up and down before I took him in hand. He unbuckled my belt and as my jeans plopped onto the floor, he squeezed my lily-white cheeks and spread them wide. I gasped as the cool air rushed into my heat.

“Um-hum,” he said smiling.  

Then in the yin and yang of his tenderness and dominance, he gently pushed me onto my knees to face his enormity. He was as long as my forearm and I stared dumbfounded. He grabbed his shiny ebony and slapped my face.  

 I blinked and looked up into his knowing eyes. “You’re huge.”

Breaking it down, he assigned me a task. “Nibble my foreskin,” he said.

I slowly slipped my tongue into the crevices of his uncut dick and swirled. His moaning encouraged me, and I covered him in wet kisses from the slit on his tip to his spiky-haired balls. He continued to grow and most of his head emerged from its sheath. I opened wide and willed my jaws to stretch to accommodate him. I tried to swallow and gagged, but I kept sucking and trying. I had stepped out of my jeans and was kneeling spread eagle at his feet; he squeezed a generous amount of lube into his hand and leaned over me to massage my crack. I continued to slobber on his dick as he spanked my exposed hole. He slowly inserted one finger and gently wiggled, then two. My lips were loose, and I was learning to calm myself to forestall gagging when he pressed into my tonsils. I murmured as his precum lubricated my throat and as he inserted yet another finger into my slippery hole.

Then he pulled out and lifted my wet chin to look me in the eyes. “Face down,” he said pointing to the bed. I obeyed. He followed me onto the sheets and occupied the space between my legs facing my awakening butt. His warm full lips covered each cheek with butterfly kisses before attending to my hole. I arched my back for him, and he began to probe, and lick, and spit.

“You taste so good, Baby.”

“Oh, yeah,” I cried as he hummed inside.

I was tingling for sex, but he offered a prelude; he crawled onto my back and covered me like a comforter on a cold day. He rested his searing manhood against my now pliable hole, and in the muggy stillness, I registered its heaviness. He kissed my cheek and slipped an arm under my chest. Breathing softly, I was secure in his strong arms and I slowly fingered the tiny hairs on his forearm.

He knew the connection between my nipples and the muscles that kept my anus tight, and he gently brushed one with his fingertip. This triggered my sphincters to contract and squeeze his engorged head.

“Relax, Baby. Let me in.”

With impeccable timing he pushed as my sphincters tired and released; my dilating muscles were obeying him apart from my conscious control. He became the conductor of my amazing reflexes and master of my internal rhythms.

I sighed. He was working his magic and I couldn’t help but trust him.   

He nibbled my earlobe as I wiggled my ass for him. Then concurrently, he bit down and thrust.

“Oh, ow,” I whined as he popped inside. His movement was swift and the pain in my earlobe didn’t distract me from his invasion; my sphincters had stretched out wide as he penetrated, and they were still burning as he paused just inside my rectum.

“I’ll take care of you, Baby.”

He held me tight as I whimpered and kissed me as I calmed down, giving me time to come to terms with the fact that his presence demanded an expansion reception. He held me there, then slowly pushed again.

I moaned; the deepening fullness was pleasurable this time.

Tight places were opening. I was like a rosebud, and slowly each inner fold, like a petal, unfurled as he gently nudged forward. We were beginning to meld.

I could tell that he was deep when he gave me an order. “Push, Baby,” he whispered.

I obeyed and he smoothly claimed another inch.  

“Oh,” I cooed.

“Yes,” he hissed as I pushed again and he bore in deeper.

“That’s it, Baby, Uh-huh. You’ve got this.”

“Oh, God, you’re big,” I said panting in the fullness.

I pushed again, but this time he withdrew completely. The emptiness startled me.   

“Please,” I begged. “Fuck me.”

“Do you want poppers, Baby?” he asked knowing what was coming, wanting me to be relaxed and ready.

“No, I don’t like those. It’s just you and me, Cutler.”

“You gotta breathe,” he said as he penetrated deep in one long smooth motion. “Oh, yes, there you go.”

I pushed again to pull him in, but this time he didn’t budge; he lay still inside, deep, and motionless. This teasing was playful, and we chuckled, but he was denying me fullness. So, I exerted my own will. I squeezed him hard with every internal muscle that I could control and held him tight. I wouldn’t let go.  

“Oh, that’s it, Baby,” he moaned.

Not able to hold on forever, my exhausted muscles released him. As I let go, I began to pulse, and as I trembled in the pleasure, he pushed hard. It wasn’t painful, but the intensity was overwhelming. Heat from deep inside emanated all over as I spasmed inside.

“Oh, oh, oh,” I panted.

“Baby, you swallowed me whole. I’m all the way in!”

I felt so proud and basked in his fullness and praise with a full-bloom smile. He rewarded me with a kiss.

My internal tremors continued to massage his manhood. I pulsed around him, enfolding him from the base of his shaft that completely filled my rectum to his head that had breached my innermost rings of muscle and occupied my colon.

“You’re so good to me, Baby,” he crooned.

My bowels were his now. I had yielded them to him, and he kindly nourished me there with long slow deep strokes. His virility was mesmerizing, and I silently laid under his warmth feeling satiated and very much at home.

“Baby, are you alright? Talk to me.”

“Oh, yeah,” I sighed. “You’re so good, Cutler, so fucking good.”

He had been graciously gentle, but he had much to share and I was ready. He flipped me onto my back to mount me missionary. He inserted just his head and stared at me game face.

“You want this,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” I bellowed as he surged in and pounded.

“Breath,” he ordered in the onslaught. “Breathe, Baby.”

I sucked air deep into my gut, stab after stab.

“Oh, fuck,” I cried.

Then he paused and thrust with all his might. Muscle and bone prevented him from going deeper, but my body quaked upon impact.

“Ow!”

“Daddy’s Boy,” he said possessing my guts.

Then another power thrust. And again. I was screaming as he rearranged my guts.

He calmed me by feeding me his tongue and tugged at my lower lip with his teeth. He drilled me the whole time. My balls were flopping, and my dick dribbled out a spider web of precum.

“Oh, yeah, YES!” I cried. “Fuck.”

“You’re such a good boy.”

I squeezed him as hard I could again, even as he pummeled me. This time I felt my internal muscles tugging at him—a sensation that seemed to be an unusual reversal of my spasms that naturally pushed.  

He stopped still. “Oh, my God, Baby. You’re pulling me in.”

We both broke out laughing.

Then he sat up erect and serene like a Buddha. I was still on my back and his deep dick was my anchor. He lifted each leg high, caressed my ball sack, and lightly ran his fingers up my inner thigh to my toes. He plucked me like a sitar, and I purred in our interlude of bliss.

“Sweet Baby Boy,” he said addressing me. His face was serious, and I sensed there was more to learn. He pushed my knees together, bent them back towards my chin, and grasped them in his arms squeezing tight. “Fear and pleasure and pain, Baby”—he said holding me as he leaned forward over me until his chest rested on my upturned feet—”they all come together.”

My shoulders sank into the mattress bearing his full weight, and my impaled ass arched high—like the upraised stern of a sinking ship. But before diving out of control into the deep, he fucking plunged into me—growling the whole way.

I panted bravely as he had taught, but then with the slightest change of angle, he rammed me head-on.

“My prostrate,” I shrieked.

The milliseconds of insertion and withdrawal before and after the impact of each exploding thrust was no relief. After each previous advance, he had held back and waited for me to want it—he gave me the time to make it mine. But now as he pinned me down and dominated my bowels, he found the hard part of me inside that wouldn’t stretch. He battered me there with his fat fucking phallus.

I squirmed and attempted to push him away—an impossibility in this position. I grimaced, clenched my eyes tight, and turned my head away. But there was no escape.

He was not alarmed by my plight. He rammed me still; the urgency of this power fuck would not be interrupted. Aware of my pain and terror, he offered comfort but demanded perseverance. Loud and firm, like a father coaxing his skinned-knee son back onto the bicycle, he said, “Daddy’s here.”

I recognized the voice of the man who had promised to take care of me. I turned my head towards his voice and released my grip on the sheets.

“Daddy’s here,” he said as I opened my eyes. He was glowing in sweat and a bead dropped from his forehead and splashed onto me, mingling with my tears. His gaze penetrated my raw vulnerability. I didn’t turn away.

“Yes, yes, Daddy’s here, Baby,” he crooned. I had given up ass, and guts, and breath, but he summoned more. He was with me and like a father reigning in a distracted son, he had limited my options.

I surrendered, raising my hands, grasping his strong shoulders. Our eyes were locked as I expelled air from deep in my lungs and gulped fresh air. He scrutinized me and a corner of his mouth turned into a devilish grin; his dominion was nearly complete.

With arched eyebrows I stared wide-eyed into his overwhelming presence, alive in each powerful thrust.

“Pleasure,” he had said.

It happened.

A jolt of electricity shot up my spine. My eyes rolled back into my head and my eyelids fluttered. Every muscle in my pelvis began to pulsate and softly caress his convulsing manhood.

The tension rolled off my face.

Time stood still.

It was as if I saw him for the first time and all I could do was smile. His reassuring voice had calmed my fears and encouraged endurance.

He smiled big. “You’re amazing.”

Wave after wave of pleasure shot up my spine, splashing over us.

Breath emanating from the depths of my lungs passed over my moving tongue and through my lips and formed two syllables. “DAD-EE!” I cried.

He had awakened my yearning and pushed me through the fear and beyond the pain. He had coaxed me into receiving all that he could give and was with me in the writing and the tears. He comforted me as he dominated me, and he watched over me as I surrendered to his will and to my own reflexes.

“FUCK me.”

He was taking care of me. He was feeding my naked hunger, never denying me the nourishment of his masculine black power.

“Fuck me, DADDY.”

Now. Naked together. This. HIM.

“DADDY, FUCK ME.”

It was all joy now.

He laid back and pulled me into cowboy position.

“Ride me, Baby.”

Bobbing up and down I took him to the hilt, again and again, fast full long bouncing thrusts—always clutching his hallowed head and channeling this power generated within my inner sanctum.

Now, he began to shriek; it was high-pitched and desperate like an urgent prayer.

Back and forth I rode; I was insatiable now, incessant, awaiting his climax.

“Give it to me, Daddy!”

He roared and thrust up into me, and up again, and again.

He was spent, but I rode on until he slapped my ass hard and we stopped to catch our breath. He kissed me—as sweet and gentle as when he was wooing me before he had opened me up. Then he pulled out of my satiated looseness.

As we kissed goodbye, he asked, “Have you had a buttgasm before?”  

I didn’t understand and didn’t know what to say.

Hours later, I was still happily twitching as my organs returned to their normal shape, and his seed planted so deep, flowed out making me wet once more. I hadn’t experienced such post-fuck intensity and finally googled the word that CutlerX had taught me. In response to the true power of this black man inside me, I had experienced a hands-and-cum free anal orgasm. It came amid waves of joy, in the intensity of learning to call him Daddy.

EZ 5457   Mykonos    Delayed2 hours.

‘Fuck. In fact, fuckity fuck!’

I’ve never had much of a problem swearing and so l swore. Out loud. I shouldn’t have, I know, not big of me but l kinda paid for it with a contemptuous glare from the middle-aged woman standing next to me in her frumpy, flowery, Laura Ashley blouse.

‘FUCKKKK!’ 

I spat it out once again for good measure, emphasising it as much as I possibly could to be 100% sure of her undying hatred and then headed off to the bar. To be brutally honest, I would have been in a bad mood regardless of Mrs Brown Blouse or EasyJet Flight EZ5457 to Mykonos being delayed or not. The week in the Artemis Aparthotel had been intended as a well-deserved break for João and me. A chance to try and get our relationship back on track if you like. But the road to hell is paved with half-baked good intentions. And this was certainly half-baked as João pissing off back to Brazil one week after l’d booked it proved only too adequately. I had tried to sell it on cheaply but in vain and, rather than lose my money totally, I’d resolved to go alone.

The bar was the usual tacky mix of shiny gold and laminated wood staffed by smiling Eastern Europeans whom it was difficult to understand and unsmiling Brits who were difficult not to scowl back at.  

‘Keep the change!’ I said cheerily slamming down the exact money. I grabbed my John Smith’s and packet of Cheese ‘n Onion crisps and stomped off to find a table at which to nurse my bad mood.

I knew I was in a foul mood. I had been for a month,  ever since l realised João, rather than me, had been the one who had had the courage to leave and bury what we both knew was dead. That was what really riled. I didn’t even have the self-respect that came from being the one who ended a doomed relationship. 

‘Arrrrraagggghhh!’

When l realised I’d voiced my frustration out loudly enough for the couple on the next table to glance over at the lunatic sitting on their right, l actually giggled, which can’t have reassured them much as they soon departed. ‘Talking to yourself now Thomas, are we?’ Fortunately, l didn’t say that aloud but it did lift my gloomy mood sufficiently for me to survey the pickings around me.

Rich, they weren’t! Dull business suits or harassed Dads seemed to be all that was on offer, however. Granted, there was the odd muscle-bound thug, neck as wide as his head, most apparently surgically attached to a pouty girlfriend with unfeasibly large breasts. ‘Grindr it is then!’ I thought to myself!

I adjusted my position to ensure the table on the other side of me would find it difficult to shoulder surf and scrolled away distractedly, occasionally picking on a pic on a whim if the eyes or lips intrigued. But to be frank, little did.

The John Smith’s disappeared worryingly rapidly and I thought briefly about the dangers of alcoholism and whether to move to a soft drink but soon found myself returning to my table with another pint and opening up Grindr yet again. This time though, my eyes only saw one pic. Bottom right. Last but one. He was gorgeous. A rectangularish face. Cafe au lait skin, huge soft dark brown eyes that twinkled mischievously. He looked vaguely Asian but l wasn’t100% sure. Didn’t care, he was just stunning. ‘Wanna B 0ty?’ Said the caption. I tapped eagerly to investigate, at the same time wondering what the fuck ‘0ty’ might stand for???

‘Bottom. Right Now. Negative. On PReP.’ Was all the info. Then l read …

‘There’s always time for a little fun, even at an airport!’

‘Well, there’s no harm in trying my luck …!’ I muttered to myself.

I tapped out ‘Are you being deported? For being illegally cute? You should be!!’

A reply came flying back ‘🤣 … nope, for bribing an immigration officer with blowjobs!’

‘Well, you can’thave been any good if they’rekicking you out!?”

‘On the contrary! Now you know why there’s only ever one desk open at immigration! I kept them very busy if you know what l mean!😉’

‘Corrupting our hard-working British civil servants!!! Do you have a corrupting influence on everyone?’

‘No, more of a hardening influence!’

The last message was rapidly followed by a pic of him lying naked on the bed; his gorgeous face grinning in the foreground and the most beautifully round pair of buttocks poking up cheekily in the background.

‘Yes. I can certainly feel something hardening, that’s for sure!’

‘If you wanna make it really hard and then soft, I’m off to the Restrooms by Gate 51 … they’re not so busy!’

I looked up hoping to spot him and suss him out more beforehand but it would have been like trying to pick out one fish in a shoal of sardines. No, if I wanted to see more, I’d have to chance anonymous sex in an airport bog, which would be a first for me! Then l twigged  … naughty… 0ty … 0 was nought!! ‘Thick or what?’ l berated myself for being so slow!

Before l really knew it, I’d grabbed my rucksack, taken a last gulp of my beer and was walking as nonchalantly as I could off towards Gates 51-55. Twice my head stopped me in my tracks. But my dick-brain took over and propelled me onward. I pushed open the outer door, just as my phone pinged out a further message. ‘In disabled cubicle. Cough twice when you are alone and l can open the door!’

I had no real time to think more as the only other occupant pushed past and left exactly as I entered. The bathroom was empty. I could rat out without saying anything, and just leave, like João, or l could cough and we could fuck, no strings attached. 

I coughed. Twice.

Sure enough, the door to the disabled toilet squeaked open and the most mischievous looking face I have ever seen poked out from behind, grinning like a six-year-old who’s pinched the entire biscuit-jar!

He gestured to me ‘Quick! Before someone comes!’ His English sounded distinctly Australian but with another accent behind it which l couldn’t place. But the pic on Grindr was no touched up imitation! His face was perfection itself, skin flawless and eyes, big and soft and beautifully Asian. 

I wasn’t even inside the cubicle before I realised he had gotten totally bollock-naked! Broad shoulders, and slightly too long arms gave him the look of a swimmer … lean muscled rather than bulked out. Perhaps 5’10” or so … exactly the way I like it!  And utterly perfect. And already decidedly horned up. His dick was darker than the rest of him and with a trimmed patch of pubes above but his tight, round sack totally smooth. I had scarcely any time to admire him more for he immediately turned around and bent over, presenting me his bubble-butt;

‘I want you fuck me. I’m so horny!’ 

He nodded at the top of the cistern where a condom and lube lay.

‘I already put lube in!’ He wiggled his sexy butt as if to underline the point. I could feel my cock trying to undo my zip from the inside!! 

While I fumbled with the packet, he just grabbed the waistband of my jeans, undid both button and zip and seconds later, my cacks were around my ankles and his lips were latched on to my dick, tongue swirling around my mushroom! He soon moved to licking my balls and I must have stopped then, mesmerised by either the sensations he was producing or by watching his smooth muscles undulating under his skin. Or both. 

‘I put it on for you!’ There was only the merest trace of irritation in his voice as he took the opened packet from me, rolled the durex onto my cock and squirted lube on to it. I looked down and could see a thread of glistening pre-cum dripping down enticingly from his uncut cock and when he turned around, I’d have sworn he was already gaping. Either he had been held in solitary confinement for about six months or he was utterly turned on by the thrill of casual sex!!!

He reached back, grabbed my stalk and pushed the head firmly against his pinkness and I sank into his warm channel. He gave not even the merest hint of discomfort and instead pushed back against me. His hands ceased stroking his cock and instead, his left reached around to my butt, trying to push me still further into him. He leaned over even more as l started to move gently in and out, my desire building up far too quickly as I watched my rod penetrate his ass, then withdraw almost totally again and again. He widened his stance slightly and then gave a squeal of pleasure: 

‘Ah! Yes, just like that!! Only harder! Fuck harder! Omg! OMG!’

It didn’t take a genius to work out that this was never going to be a long, drawn-out session but just then, the main door to the toilets banged open and what must have been three of four guys walked in, all fortunately chatting loudly in some language I failed to recognize. Fortunately because the noise they made covered the sounds of our fuck. But their appearance seemed to send him over the edge. He barely managed to stuff his tshirt into his mouth to stifle an ‘ Ughnnn!’ and he erupted over the floor. Copiously. His ring pulsed around my rod and I then felt my release coat his insides, only just managing to muffle my own grunt.

After what seemed the longest piss ever, (and no hand-washing l noted disapprovingly!) the guys left, still discussing god knows what and thankfully oblivious to what had been going on two metres away from them.

‘You got my prostrate just right! So quickly too!’ He leant forward and gave me a delicate kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the pan and letting rip with the most obscene fart possible! 

‘Sorry!’ he grinned up at me, He really was utterly captivating and I sighed inwardly.

The entry of more voices stopped more conversation, and farts (!) and so I first wiped my softening cock before washing it when the bathroom was empty once again, all the while trying to observe him surreptitiously as he dressed. By the time I’d finished drying my hands, he was gone! No ‘ciao’, no ‘have fun!’, no nothing!!! 

‘Well, what the fuck did you expect, you idiot!’

I yanked the door open a little too hard on the way out, equally conscious that my bad mood had returned and that I was once again talking to myself!!  I groaned! The TV monitor opposite stated EZ5457 Mykonos Cancelled.

An hour later, after a somewhat heated argument with a descendant of Attila the Hun who now worked for SleazyJet, I found myself switched on to the BA flight. I’d had to pay a fair whack extra for business class but, provided I could get my carcass to the gate in the next 10 mins, l was going at least!! I could see the check-in attendant from way off, flapping her arms animatedly in a bid to keep me running. The aeroplane door was closed after me so rapidly I swear I nearly caught the strap of my rucksack outside. 

I hadn’t even made it to my seat in business before we were taxiing back:

‘Oooh, you passengers! You’ll be the death of me!’ The voice came from a plump, middle-aged and unashamedly effeminate flight attendant who was beaming at me, loving every second of the drama!!

‘Now lovey, you get yourself strapped in quick before Captain Marvel gives himself a double-hernia and Kevin here’ll get you a drinky-poos after he’s done the emergency drill!! You make sure you pay attention,  now!!’ Kevin minced off down the aisle, closing tables as he went.

Stupidly, in the embarrassed rush to make it, I’d grabbed the aisle seat rather than the window seat and could only see a patch of tarmac as a result so instead, unlike 99% of the other passengers, I actually watched poor Kevin and earned a smile and a roll of the eyes from him in payment. 

Captain Marvel gently lifted the Airbus into the air, hopefully without even a single hernia and I whipped out my phone from my trouser pocket, noticing a slightly darker circle on the crotch of my pants.

The yellow Grindr icon sat mocking me from the notification bar and l forced myself to ignore it for a whole two seconds. I clicked on it. My heart jumped involuntarily when I saw it was three messages from him. 

‘Name’s Geoff!’

‘I forgot to say you’re really cute and that really was fun!’

The third was a pic of him scrunching his face up as if he’d bitten into the most sour of all lemons! Utterly cute! Utterly adorable! 

Kevin appeared at my side, quivering and reminding me for all the world of Caspar, The Friendly Ghost. For someone carrying a kilo or two more than his uniform was ideally stitched for, he was surprisingly silent on his feet.

‘What would you like to drink, Sir?’ He leaned forward conspiratorily. ‘You get served first if you pay attention during the demo!’

His eyes dropped to my phone and let out an involuntary gasp: ‘Oooh, now HE’S eye-candy worth missing a flight for!’

I laughed. ‘You’re not wrong there!’ I said wistfully and keeping my eyes on Geoff’s pic. ‘I really think I messed up big-style.’

I looked up to add ‘Gin and Tonic, please!’ but instead only caught his ass waddling away and a vague ‘Just got to check on something in Economy, Sir! Back in a jiffy!’

I sighed and lifted up the middle arm-rest to sidle across into the window seat, wanting to be just a little further away from other passengers to make it easier to feel sorry for myself. I looked out of the window, caught a two-second glimpse of Surrey’s green fields and then we were enveloped in cloud and there was nothing to see anymore on the horizon. ‘Hurry up with that gin for fuck’s sake!’ I thought as the photo of Geoff finally timed out and the screen went black.

‘Here’s your G&T, Sir!’ 

I didn’t even bother to turn my head, instead merely reaching out for the glass as Kevin placed it on my table with a dramatic flourish.

‘Oh, and by the way, l suggested this gentleman move to the seat next to you … I hope you don’t mind?’

Only now did I look up to see Kevin beside himself with excitement and, standing next to him, Geoff.

Hey, my names Pat and this is a story about my twin bro and me.

Jay and I hadn’t shared a room since we were 5 and here we are at 16 moving my stuff into his room so our new step sister had some space of her own. It wasn’t the best way to get in our good graces but hey we weren’t confided in on mom remarrying and neither had she so it wasn’t really Rebecca’s fault.

“That’s the last of your boxes Paddy” Jay said as he stripped off his top and flopped down on his double bed, he looked hot and sweaty and sexy with his longish tousled golden curls damply sticking to his forehead. Jay and I are twins, 6ft 3in tall, lean, and muscled, Jay hits the gym a little more than I do though so his six pack is more pronounced. We are both blue eyed and blonde. “Thanks and the names Pat remember?” “Actually your names Patrick, not that it ever gets used” Mom said as she came to the open door, lightly knocked and walked in carrying some storage boxes for my stuff that would go under my bed. “John (our new step-dad) is just off the phone, there was an accident on the motorway and he’s not gonna be back till late, he won’t be able to help build the bed. Do you two mind sharing for the night?” I turned to Jay shrugging my shoulders “it’s your bed I’ll let you decide.” I said, “it’s cool mom, it’ll be like when we were little.” He said chuckling.

I’d had a weird crush on my brother for the last two years, I know we’re identical but to me he’s so much more, he’s confident, and charming. He could have any girl in school, as well as a lot of the guys, straight or not. He’d cut a swathe through the girls in our school already. So when I heard this butterflies started to flutter in my stomach. “Right well you better finish putting away what you can tonight and take a shower, you both stink to high heaven” said mom walking out the door pulling it closed. It took another hour or so to refill my bookcases, find somewhere safe to put my canvases and paints, and set up my posters on my side of the room, Jay and I shared clothes most of the time anyway so we dumped my stuff in the closet and drawers with his. Finally we could do no more, we were both tired from our exertions and decided we’d grab our showers then head to bed.

I went for the first shower in the en suite and to my dismay Jay followed along behind me. “What are you doing bro? I’m gonna shower” I asked, “well I figured I’d brush my teeth while you showered and then we can swap places, means we can chat” he said, “oh yeah I guess we could do that” my mood deflating somewhat, I’d hoped to sneak in a wank in the shower before bed cause I knew I was gonna have a raging boner being beside him in bed all night with no way to deal with it.

The shower glass quickly steamed over thankfully, even though our bodies are identical I don’t think we’d seen each other fully nude since we got our own rooms at 5, I knew over the next couple years we’d be seeing much more of each other but that first night I thought it best not to be advertising my boner. The water barely touched me and my 8in cock was rising. Jay was nattering away, I could just about see his outline through the glass as I soaped up my dick, I couldn’t help it I was so horny at the thought of sharing a bed with him. All of a sudden there was a rush of cold air as the door opened and Jay was saying “dude are you o…” he grinned suddenly looking at me, I realized I had one soapy hand firmly around my shaft and the other squeezing my balls with the tips of my fingers massaging the skin behind them. I turned round telling him to shut the fucking door. I heard the glass close and let out a long breath, which I quickly drew back in as an arm passed by my face over my shoulder to grab the soap. “I was gonna ask if you were okay but you seem to be… handling, things well” Jay seemed to whisper into my ear, “why don’t you let me wash your back then we can get into bed faster.””um sure” I said, thinking that an odd way to put it but the feel of his hands on my sore and tight muscles felt that good that I didn’t poke at his phrasing any more.

I slowly relaxed into the feel of his hands on my back tending my aches and pains. I entered some kind of fugue state where all I felt were our hands squeezing and relaxing my muscles and the thrum of the water on my head and cascading down my back. I slowly came back to myself when I felt his hands on my ass kneading my glutes spreading the muscles and I could feel the soapy water sliding over my hole, it contracted as Jay’s finger ran down the crevice and over and around my hole, it felt amazing and a groan escaped my lips. Suddenly Jay’s lips were at my ear again “did you like that?” He asked. I could only nod my head as my ass seemed to back up closer to him of its own accord my tongue tied in my mouth. His hands took a full grasp of my ass and squeezed hard, my head went back and my back arched as I moaned loudly. All of a sudden I felt something along the length of my ass crack. Thinking he’d returned a finger there I pushed back and straight into my brothers body, that’s when my eyes flew open and I realized that was no finger, it was much longer, and much thicker, it was my brothers cock lying hard in the valley between my ass. I went to pull away and to turn but Jays hands wrapped round my hips and pulled me hard against him. “Please don’t pull away Paddy, I’ve wanted to hold you like this for so long” the shock of what he said stopped me in my tracks but if it hadn’t the feeling of his lips on the back of my neck kissing me would have. 

God it felt good, like nothing I’d felt before, he lay butterfly kisses up the length of my neck to my ear. “I know you want this Paddy, I’ve caught the way you look at me and this little experiment in here proved it” he said, licking my earlobe and taking it into his mouth. His hand slid along my still soapy skin to take hold of my still rock hard dick, it flexed in his hand and I felt his dick, still buried against my ass flex in tandem. “We shouldn’t do this Jay, you’re my brother,” I barely got out, “but you want to don’t you” Jay replied, before licking up the length of my neck. Thoughts raced through my head, about what people would think if they found out, our mum and new dad, our sister, our friends then the thought of having this chance, having what I’ve wanted for two years and not taking it and that was the worst thought. Fuck it, I raised my hand behind me to hold him as I turned enough to press my lips to his. I closed my eyes and It was like an explosion of light behind my eyelids, whatever happened, happened but I would not let this pass me by.

The moment our lips met Jay went into a frenzy, he quickly turned me round and had me up against the wall, the water falling around us as he slipped his tongue between my lips. He had the forethought even in his haste to put a hand behind my head so I didn’t get my head bashed on the tile, the other he used to lift my leg up, I wrapped it around his waist and he took a good grasp of my ass. I put my arms around him and pulled him to me harder as our dicks dueled between us and I finally got the chance I’d always wanted and got a good handful of his high tight arse.

Jay fed at my mouth, teeth, tongue, lips. I’d never felt such need just from a kiss. Mind you I didn’t have much experience when it came to kissing or anything else. Jay suddenly broke the kiss and I thought he’d changed his mind but he moved to my neck. Slowly kissing his way down my neck, sucking and licking his way down to my collar bone. “Don’t leave me with a hickey” I reminded him, “not sure how we’d explain that to mum in the morning” he mumbled something illegible while licking and suck at my collar bone before moving down to my nipple which he took into his mouth, flicked with his tongue and nibbled and bit it driving me wild. I’d always had sensitive nipples.

He explored my abs and pecs, one hand slid down and grasped my dick while the other pinched my nipple as he kissed his way down my body before finally kneeling. He pulled back on my foreskin resting the head of my cock against his partly opened puckered lips. He stared into my eyes as his tongue flickered out and over my cock head, the feeling made my eyes flutter before he sipped at the water from the shower that had gathered. All before opening wide and taking my 8 inches all the way to the base, his nose in the tidy bush above my cock, I felt his tongue against the underside of my dick as he swallowed over and over, my dick deep in his throat. My knees threatened to give out so he grabbed me by the ass and propped me up as he pulled back to my cock head all the while his eyes never leaving my face. “You-You’ve done that before” I managed to utter, “Once or twice,” he said, “only in practice for you” after saying that he dove back down on me. One hand squeezing my balls softly as he alternated between deepthroating me and sucking at the head while using the other hand to jerk me off. I was seeing stars, my first ever blow job and it was my brother making me feel amazing. I could feel the cum in my balls churning as they began to pull up “I’m close Jay you better pull up” I warned but hearing me say that only seemed to make him suck harder, I began to try to pull him off me but suddenly as my orgasm took me over I went from trying to pry him off to holding him as tight as a vice as I fucked his mouth. “Fuck Jay, I’m coming! Take it! Take it all” and he did, it must have been the biggest orgasm of my life and he swallowed every drop.

My legs finally did give out and he lowered me to the floor of the shower, the water started to turn cold so he turned it off. “Fuck Jay! That was amazing” I said fervently, he looked coyly at me as his tongue flicked out to taste what was left of me on his lips. I reached out and drew his face to me and kissed him softly, and deeply, I could taste myself still on his lips and mouth. I’d tried my own cream before and liked it but it was so much better tasting it from his lips and tongue, I explored his mouth to get as much as I could before we both drew back. “Come on” he said, standing and reaching his hand down to me, I grasped it and he pulled me to my feet, “mom will be wondering why the hell we’re still in here” he said, “but what about this?” I asked reaching for his still hard dick, “don’t worry bro, we can deal with that in bed.

That however is a story for another chapter.

The name on the placard I was raising at the Larnaca international airport arrivals area in meeting the Egyptair flight said Samir, but that wasn’t who he really was. He was known to us as Hamid al-Salim, one of the inner circle of the Sayf Allah—Sword of Allah—terrorist group operating out of who knew where? We thought maybe Aden. We hoped to find out where and who was at the head of it, a shadowy figure only known at Alsayf—The Sword. The bombing and assault rifle attacks in the name of Sayf Allah, had been increasing: two in Germany, three in France, three in the United States, one each in Luxembourg, Belgium, and Liechtenstein, and now even one in St. Petersburg, Russia. It was time to step up to getting those stopped.

His eyes lit up when he saw me behind the ropes at arrivals. I had recognized him instantly as he came out of the gate, but I had to pretend like I didn’t. He thought he was being clever. He’d made all of the arrangements himself through a travel agent in Cyprus—in Nicosia—which many of his ilk used for travel. What he and they didn’t know is that we ran the travel agency ourselves. He didn’t know me, so I had to suppose that his reaction was because he was attracted to me. So far so good, then.

He was meeting someone here in Cyprus but had wanted to do it in privacy and at leisure. Through the agency, he’d rented a remote, serviced holiday villa on the southern coast, near the village of Zyyi, eighty kilometers along the southern Cyprus coast and a forty-minute drive, from the airport; a nondescript gray Mazda6, and a rent-boy. I was the rent-boy.

That was were so many of these terrorists slipped up—with sex. More often than not it was with women. Sometimes it was with men, though, which made everything a bit easier for us. Needing sex from a woman was natural for a male terrorist. Needing sex from another man automatically put the male terrorist into the blackmailable category. I was such a man brought to bear in such instances. I had the necessary Mediterranean good looks, I was young-looking at twenty-five, gay, and this is what I did for my government—let men fuck me in exchange for getting what we wanted out of them. I worked for what the CIA called its Candy Store unit, combining the age-old activities of spying and prostitution to serve U.S. intelligence needs. What we wanted from Hamid—I mean Samir—was a name and a location.

All of this complex and expensive operation was meant to do was just that—obtain a name and a location. Thus was what the bulk of intelligence work amounted to.

He thought he was off the grid for this meeting, but, thanks to our control of the travel agency, we’d picked him up in Barcelona on a passenger freighter to Alexandria, Egypt, and there had been a couple of our agents on the plane with him from Cairo to Larnaca. There were others who would be monitoring the holiday villa and who could be contacted in Zyyi, as warranted. What was maddening was that he didn’t come on our scope before Barcelona. How had he gotten there from wherever he had been before? And were the rest of his central Sayf Allah planners, including Alsayf, in that same place? Why had the group been so allusive while still able to mount operations in Europe and the United States? All of the suppositions were that they were in Aden. But we hadn’t been able to originate Hamid there at the beginning of this trip.

He was presentable enough, wearing navy-blue slacks and a tan sports shirt. All of the photos we’d gotten of him—only available because he had been the sole face of the terrorist group in media—had him in the traditional white Arab robe, the thawb, with white headwear, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn’t fat. He seemed quite fit for the forty-plus-year-old we gaged him to be. His facile features, quite Arab, were handsome enough. He had piercing dark eyes under bushy black eyebrows and over a black mustache that was more dense than his close-cropped beard. The nose was slightly hawk like, an Arab trait, but not prominently so. The hair of his beard continued down his neck and into the neckline of his sport shirt, indicating that he was hirsute. The hair on his head was close cropped, indicating that he probably was balding there. He had an athletic build. He walked with command.

In all, I wasn’t disappointed in what I saw. That had meaning to me, as I was going to have to let the man do what he wanted with me and act like I enjoyed it and couldn’t get enough of it. So far, that didn’t look like it would be a problem. Sometimes I had to grit my teeth and slather on the acting to be able to get through an operation letting some fat slob fuck me. That didn’t seem to be an issue this time. I wasn’t in this business because I wouldn’t let a man have his way with me or that I couldn’t handle casual sex—or that I didn’t like to have it rough. I had willingly been a rent-boy for the rough trade before having been recruited by the Agency.

I introduced myself as Costas, his for the weekend, showed him the car he was renting, and drove him from the airport. I supposedly was the local, knowing my way around. I’d come a week early to learn my way around. The villa had been prepared for a week too, with surveillance cameras and microphones that were well hidden. We spoke in English as, presumably, my native language would be Greek and his Arabic, although I could understand Arabic as well as he could. I could also handle Greek just in case he checked. There was no way I was going to let him know I was multilingual, though, until I wanted to—until it had been planned.

As we drove, me at the wheel, I talked about the island and what he could do here, pretending that I assumed he was here on a tourist vacation—like it was routine for me to play tourist guide and temporary sex partner for some rich guy visiting the island from one of the supposedly puritanical Arab states—and he countered all of that with having a few meetings to conduct but other than that just enjoying the villa, the sea . . . and me. He made quite clear that this was to be a sex weekend for him. There was nothing unusual with that. Cyprus was a “let it all hang out” haven for rich Arabs. As I drove, he felt me out, touching me here and there, discovering I had silver bars in my nipples and a silver ring in my navel and that I could achieve an erection with a man. He moved my hand to his crotch to assure myself he could achieve an erection, as well—and that he was hung.

“You have good endurance, no?” he asked.

He was asking if I could take it rough. “Yes, I have good endurance,” I answered. He smiled and sat back into the passenger seat.

We stopped in Zyyi, as a marina-side seafood restaurant open to the Mediterranean, for lunch. He obviously was not too keen on being seen in public, although I didn’t think he gathered any suspicion of our two men sitting in the restaurant and observing us, but I assured him that this would be the only meal we’d take at a restaurant, if that was his desire.

“We may spend the whole time in bed,” he said, giving a little laugh at his witticism.

“The villa has a swimming pool. I like to be fucked in a pool,” I responded and enjoyed the intake of breath he met that with.

“The villa comes with catering and linen service,” I continued as if I hadn’t said anything unusual. “There will be a local woman who comes in for two hours in the late morning to prepare lunch and a dinner as well, which she’ll leave in the refrigerator for me to finish for the evening meal. I’ll prepare breakfast. She’ll do whatever cleaning that’s require in those two hours and be gone the rest of the time. She’s paid not to see anything or ask anything. This is Cyprus. You can be who you want and do what you want here. Sexual services from her don’t come with the deal, although, once you see her, I don’t think you’ll be interested. If you want a woman or a transvestite, I can find one for you.”

That seemed to placate him on the arrangement. “The housekeeper—she won’t be there in the evening?”

“No.”

“Good. And you. There will be someplace in the evening where you—?”

“It’s a one-story villa, but there is a flat under it, reached from the outside,” I said. “I can certainly go there in the evening. There are two bedrooms down there. I can sleep down there, if you want.”

He snorted. “Not for what I’m paying for you, you won’t. But I have meetings in the evening. I wish them to be private.”

“Anything you want,” I said. I was well prepared to say “anything you want” to anything he said he wanted until we’d gotten what we needed. I didn’t really have to be told about his evening meetings, though. I knew about as much as he did about them. He was meeting with two men with Russian names, Viktor and Serge. I didn’t know why yet. Viktor and Serge didn’t know why yet, either. That was what “Samir” presumably would be telling them. All that was important was that both the Russians and we knew that Samir had as much of interest to both of us that was needed to be able to lure us to him. With the hardware used in the massive Sayf Allah-claimed attacks across Europe and the United States that had already taken place, it was assumed that Samir might be shopping for weapons support from the Russians. That was our guess what these meetings set for tonight and tomorrow evening were about. That remained to be discovered.

From the restaurant and the sighting that had been arranged to assure our people that Hamid was here and that it, indeed, was Hamid, calling himself “Samir,” I drove on to the isolated seaside villa.

The villa was small, isolated from its neighbors and almost directly on the water, the beach of which was approached by a wooden staircase descending a rocky cliff some fifteen feet from the stone terracing-surrounded oval swimming pool at the back of the house. There was a central living and dining room section. To the east of that was the master bedroom, with a bath at the back of the villa with a smaller room, set up as a study with a studio coach in it on the front. To the east of the central core was a kitchen, facing the sea, with a utility room and small sitting area for the cook on the front. The living area, master bedroom, and kitchen all faced the sea, with a deep, covered porch running across the entire back of the villa. The basement, which was hard to discern from outside the villa, lit by window wells, was entered via an external stairwell on the west side of the house. There was no internal staircase. Our procurement office had had that as a priority. We didn’t want the target wandering downstairs undetected. On the lower level were a living area, a kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. The holiday villa could be rented as two separate units.

I had established myself in one of the lower bedrooms. The other one had cabinets that could be opened up to reveal surveillance equipment from which the cameras and listening devices hidden upstairs and on the back porch could be monitored. For most of the weekend, since Hamid showed no interest in the lower level, one of our men was in position in the smaller bedroom in the basement. He could lock himself in a bathroom off that room if the target went exploring.

“Beer or fruit juice?” I asked, as Hamid was standing at the glass doors looking out onto the back porch when we reached the villa. Like most any Muslim visiting outside the Arab world, he opted for the beer. When I came out of the kitchen and handed it to him, he’d stripped off his trousers and sport shirt and was wearing only his briefs. As I had surmised, he was a hirsute man—and muscular, although not muscle bound. Black curly hair swirled around his muscular pectorals and ran in a wide line down his torso to fan out over his belly. Likewise, his thighs and forearms were matted in curly black hair. A gold chain around his neck ended in a gold medallion nestled between his beefy pecs. He dressed right, and the line of his cock inside the pouch of the briefs indicated I would feel him inside me. He was half hard, so I was assured he found me arousing enough. He was a beautiful man, really. I wasn’t going to have any trouble letting him inside me unless he had very kinky needs—and even here, I was ready for some fun in that department.

I was ready to get on with ensnaring him with sex as soon as he wanted. He wanted it now.

He took the beer from me, set it on a side table, pulled me into him for a kiss, and, while we kissed, he unbuckled, unzipped my jeans, and took me in hand. I had no trouble being half hard for him. For the fat, smelly slobs I sometimes had to service, I occasionally needed the help of drugs. Not with this man. I couldn’t wait, really, for the coupling with him. I let him know it.

“Fuck, you’re a sexy man,” I murmured. “Fuck me.”

“Come out onto the porch. Suck me off on the lounge bed out there,” he said.

So, our first sex was on the lounge bed, under the shade of the back porch, overlooking the terrace pool and the sea. Both naked, Hamid holding me on top of him, we sixty-nined to a mutual ejaculation. Afterward, I quickly rose off of him and the lounge bed, grabbed a beach towel, and ran naked, down the stairs. I dropped the towel on the beach, as I ran, and moved directly into the sea, diving into the surf and swimming out a good distance before swimming back, walking, naked, out of the surf, and going to the towel, where I lay on my back, my legs bent and spread. I moved my hand between my legs and fingered my hole, letting him know what I wanted—what he could have.

As I heard Hamid descend the stairs, I pressed my feet into the sand and raised my pelvis, knowing he would come to me, which he did. He knelt between my knees, placed his hands on either side of my chest after he had put the bulb of his long, thick erection in place. He hovered over me, looking down into my eyes to capture the grimaced, half smile I gave him as he penetrated and moved several inches inside me, stopped to let me adjust to him, and then bottomed out and began to slow pump me.

I did what rent-boys are trained to do. I clutched his shoulder blades, digging my fingernails in, and raised my knees, hugging his hips with them as he fucked me, still raising his chest above mine and searching my eyes with his for a reflection there of his mastery, which I gave him. With murmurings of “Yes, yes, like that,” I set my trained passage muscles undulating over the stroking cock as well and moaned, bringing out his groans of pleasure. “Nem fiela,” I whispered, Arabic for “Yes,” and he gave me a surprised look but fucked on.

The use of the Arabic had been intentional, part of the plan.

The stroking intensified, became frenzied, and I moved my hands, clutching his buttocks, holding him close in to me and feeling the cheeks contract and relax with the effort of his thrusts. As I arched my back and shot my load, I cried out, “Nem fiela! Yumris aljins maeia! Tulad li!” I was crying out “Yes, fuck me! Breed me!” in Arabic, again purposely.

He did that, releasing his cum inside me. The man was full of cum and he pumped it in me in three jerks and long spurts. Then he held, clutching me so close I could hardly breathe. Giving me a sharp look, holding deep inside me, he said, “’Ant tathadath alerabiuth. ’Ant last Yunani—You spoke Arabic. You aren’t Greek.”

“Shaebiin filastini. Laqad jawuu ‘iilaa huna fi althamaninat—My people are Palestinian. They came here in the 1980s.”

“Ah, la hubu lilkufaar algharbiiyn m’iidhn.”

“No, I have no love for the Western infidels,” I agreed, establishing the comfortable link that I had sought to form.

Satisfied, he gathered me up into his arms—he was significantly larger than I was—mounted the stairs, took me to his bedroom, mounted me again, and got his money’s worth in sex for the rest of the afternoon. My mind went back to his comment that we might spend the entire time in bed. As he fucked me, recovered, changed position, and fucked me again, I was thinking that maybe he would be capable to delivering on that. He was a master cocksman. I enjoyed this part of my job—to a point.

One thing was clear. The Agency had made a good pairing. He couldn’t get enough of me. And, truth be told, I couldn’t get enough of him either. He’d paid enough and we’d both gone through the necessary medical hoops for barebacking, so we fucked raw and, holding him against me as he came each time, he breeded me again and again. For me, this wasn’t a risk; the Agency had developed pills to take the threat away.

* * * *

I was lying on my back on the bed, Hamid crouched close beside me, the ankle of my right leg hooked on his left shoulder. His left forearm was pressing my throat down on the bed, my head was arched back, and I was panting heavily and groaning. I gave a little cry and began to whimper as the knuckles of his heavily greased right hand breached my sphincter muscle and he began fist fucking me. This was beyond enjoyment, but I had to admit that it had me hard and going. I grasped my cock with my left hand and stroked myself off. I had had no warning he’d be this cruel with me.

“Khudhiha! Khudhiha!—Take it! Take it!” Hamid growled. I took it.

After I came, Hamid extracted his hand, rolled over on top of me, between my thighs, penetrated me, and fucked me quickly to his own release. When he’d come, he rolled off me and the bed and, tossing over his shoulder, “Time for a shower,” went into the bathroom and closed the door. I waited for the shower to start and then, with a groan left the bed myself and started to search.

Letting the Arab terrorist brutalize me had been worth it—at least to my government. Hamid had been careless. He hadn’t destroyed the stub of a boarding pass I found in his trouser pocket—for a flight from Rabat, Morocco, to Barcelona, Spain. So that added a leg of travel to what we knew of his journey from wherever to here. I found indication that he, indeed, had been in Morocco for a spell and that he planned to be there again, I found a folded wad of Dirham banknotes, the currency of Morocco, in the back pocket of his trousers.

I managed to get back in the position he’d left me in when Hamid came out of the bathroom. He came over and flopped down on his back on the bed. Within minutes, he was zonked out, evidently exhausted from the travel he’d done that day followed by the sexual athletics.

When I was sure he was asleep, I went into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. I quickly cleaned myself up and then went exploring in the leather kit bag Hamid had left in there. Once again, he’d been sloppy. In the zippered compartment on the side of the bag, I found a card from a gay bar in Tangier, Morocco, where there was—and had been for many decades—a large gay male presence. The bar was named the Legionnaire and the image on the front of the card was of a muscular Roman gladiator. The most interesting find, though, was on the back of the card. Written there in pen was the name “Phillipe” and a telephone number.

I memorized the bar information, the written name, and the telephone number. Leaving the bathroom, I went to the kitchen, wrote it all down on a post-it-note, which I pasted to the inside of a kitchen drawer, drew a glass of water for an excuse for having gone to the kitchen if Hamid was awake when I returned to bedroom, and padded back to the bed.

Hamid wasn’t awake then, so I lay on the bed beside him and dozed off myself. He was awake later, though, as the light coming into through the window was diming. I woke to him turning me onto my belly, putting an arm under my waist to lift me up onto my knees, mounting me, penetrating, and fucking me silly.

* * * *

After warming up the dinner that the housekeeper, Stella, had left for us that evening, Hamid told me I should go downstairs and stay there until he came down to tell me to come up. That was no problem with me. I heard the car arrive. I knew who it would be. They’d come under the name of Viktor and Serge. They’d stay to hear what Hamid had to say, but we all knew they’d be back the next evening if there was something to talk about. They were only empowered to listen to his pitch. He knew they’d have to consult. If they couldn’t come back the next night, he’d do this all over again when they signaled they were ready. He wasn’t going to spend more than two nights anywhere like this.

We were lucky we got him this far into our clutches.

After they left, he came and got me. He was being introspective and suggested we swim in the pool with the underwater lights on. “You said you liked being fucked in the swimming pool,” he said.

We did swim in the pool, naked, but it resulted only in a blow job. He sat on the side of the pool while I sucked his cock. When he was fully erect, he pulled me out of the pool, dried me and then him off, carried me into the bedroom, and fucked me again there.

“I hope that went well,” I murmured afterward as we lay in an embrace. I wanted to see if there was any more I could get from him. “You don’t seem—”

He gave a low laugh.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“Not so much funny as ironic. People get something in their minds and they can’t see beyond that,” he said. “Has your family readjusted to Cyprus from wherever they were displaced?”

“Lebanon, the last time,” I said. “From Palestine and then Lebanon—my Palestinian name is Nabil, but for my business I need a Greek name, so I am Costas.”

“Can I start calling you Nabil?” he asked. “You don’t want to forget where you came from, do you?”

“I would like you to call me Nabil, yes. And my people—they never forget. They never stop hating.” I said this to keep in his head what side this character I was playing could be on—that he could find me sympathetic and could talk to me. “But they have a good life here too.”

“And why is that?”

“We are industrious people,” I said. “Palestinians are good workers. We don’t forget, but we rise above it and take care of ourselves.”

“So, sometimes you can hold off on your hate as long as you can create a good life for yourselves.”

“I guess so,” I said after a pause. “Work can be hard, though. And being what I am isn’t necessarily a good life.” I had to throw in a little “pity me” there.

“You love being fucked and you make good money at it. Don’t pretend otherwise.” He laughed again.

“I suppose,” I said.

“I am an Arab,” he said.

“Yes, I understand that,” I answered.

“Do you see anything beyond that in me?”

“What else is there to see?” I asked. “You want me to tell you that you fuck well? You do. You fuck well.”

“So, you see in me an Arab who fucks well—and maybe one with grudges and a violent ideology.”

“You had strong words to say at dinner about the treatment of Palestinians,” I said. “Words I agree with.” If he was going to try to recruit me, this would be the point. Would the controllers have an interest in going on that tangent? Would my future be as an infiltrator into the Sayf Allah? Could I live that deception and danger?

I didn’t have a chance to find out. He laughed again then and, curiously, said, “Those Russians tonight couldn’t see beyond it either.” Then, before I could pursue that, he rolled over on top of me and fucked me again.

Hamid was getting full value out of his rent-boy contract.

He went into a deep sleep then from exhaustion of his flight and the multiple times he fucked me—and probably from the tension of his meeting with Viktor and Serge. When I was sure he was asleep, I left him, gathered the note I’d written from the kitchen drawer, retrieved the bicycle from the storage shed at the kitchen side of the house that Hamid had no reason to know was there, and peddled quietly into Zyyi.

I met Viktor, who I knew as Harvey Johns, and Serge, who I knew as Thomas Gains, at an open-air all-night tavern by the Zyyi marina. Stella, the holiday villa’s housekeeper was there too.

The three greeted me, with surprise.

“The meeting wasn’t what we expected,” Harvey Johns said. “It wasn’t negotiations for support or an arms buy. It was a shakedown.”

“A shakedown? Of the Russians?”

“Yes,” Thomas Gains said. “We weren’t giving enough consideration of that claimed Sayf Allah attack in St. Petersburg. We should have wondered why they’d do that if they wanted help in any way from the Russians.”

“So, what was it?” I asked.

“Sayf Allah isn’t a political terrorist group, although the effect is the same,” Johns said. “It’s an extortion group. Hamid hit us for ransom for not attacking in Russia again—and for more money they’d attack where the Russians want havoc created. It’s a mercenary army, not an ideological one.”

So that was what Hamid was hinting to me about assumptions made because he was an Arab and not looking beyond those assumptions.

“But we’re still interested in closing the Sayf Allah down?” I asked.

“Oh, yes, as much as ever,” Gains said.

“Our other assumptions might be off then too,” I said. “We’ve been thinking they are located in or near the Persian Gulf. What if they are somewhere else altogether?” And that’s when I pulled out the tidbits of information I’d gleaned from Hamid’s effects that connected him with Morocco.

“We’ll check that out,” Johns said. “You’d better get back to the house now, though, before he wakes and misses you.”

The next morning, Stella pulled me aside while she was at the house.

“Our people were busy last night,” she whispered to me. “You were on to something. Hamid lives in Tangier and this Phillipe you found reference to owns the Legionnaire bar. And that’s a clue too. He’s French and a former French Foreign Legionnaire. He seems to have gathered a lot of his old comrades. We think this Phillipe is Sayf Allah and he heads an extortion mercenary force posing as a Muslim terrorist organization. Hamid is probably the only Arab involved, and that’s why he’s the only front man we’ve seen in the media. We think the attacks in France, Germany, and the United States were demonstrations and that the smaller countries—Luxembourg, Belgium, and Liechtenstein—just paid up after the first attacks there, Harvey said. Russia was Phillipe getting too greedy and bold.”

It all was making sense now.

“He’ll be extracted this evening when the men meeting with him again. In the meantime, hang tough with it.”

* * * *

Hamid didn’t pitch me to join the Sayf Allah that afternoon, which only confirmed for me that the organization wasn’t a Muslim terrorist group—that it was a mercenary extortion army using the cover of politics and religion. Instead, after lunch we went down to the sea naked and I swam and then we fucked on the beach. Then we came back up to the pool, and I gave him a massage on the lounge bed, both of us intending on that leading to another fuck. I wanted him to keep his mind on that rather than anything else he could be thinking of before my compatriots lowered the boom on him.

He dozed off while I was massaging him. I heard noises from the direction of the beach and looked down there. At first I thought our guys had moved up their roll-up operation. A small trawler was hovering off the beach and two rubber rafts, each with five or six guys in military gear were coming into the beach. I pretty quickly realized these weren’t “my” guys, though. We hadn’t brought nearly that many to the party for one and no one had told me about a trawler being used in the extraction for another.

These were someone else’s “guys.” Moving low, so they didn’t see me, I went around to the west side of the house and down into the basement. The guy on duty in the listening room was named Frank. I had him send up a distress signal to our forces in nearby Zyyi.

By the time our forces arrived, though, the rafts were on their way back to the trawler, and Hamid was gone. They might have checked inside the villa for others but they didn’t take the time to realize there was a basement.

Harvey, Thomas, Stella, Frank, I, now with a pair of shorts pulled on, and a couple of others who had been further in the background stood on the terrace of the villa, helplessly watching the rafts reach the trawler and then the trawler steam off.

“My guess is it was the Russians for real,” Harvey said. “After St. Petersburg, they must have gotten royally pissed and launched a track-down operation of their own. Hamid was the most public image of Sayf Allah, so they must have concentrated on finding him and now have.”

“I checked the bedroom,” I said. “The stuff related to Morocco is still there, so maybe they won’t be too fast in figuring out where to go from here. It won’t go easy for Hamid, though.”

“Are you sorry for that?” Stella asked.

“Not in the least,” I answered. “I saw the after photos of some of their attacks on civilian targets. I just regret that the Russians might get to Phillipe before we do.”

“That won’t happen,” Harvey said. “We got the news out last night. An operation in Tangier has already started.”

“So, we can clean up here and go home,” I asked.

“Sure. We’ll just—”

“Just one more trip around the park for you,” a deep male voice sounded from in back of them, in the doorway into the villa’s living room.

We all turned to see that the head of the operation—of all Agency operations including prostitution work—Sam Winterberry, was standing there.

“You did very well, Toby,” he said, directing that at me. Of course I wasn’t either the Costas who I had been introduced to Hamid as in my Greek rent-boy identify or the Nabil of the secondary Palestinian refugee persona I’d later laid on the Arab. I was the American, Toby Kline. “I would like to consult with you in here before you leave, please.”

I knew what “consult” meant and where “in here” would be with Sam Winterberry. He was a very controlling boss. He took my hand as I entered the villa through the glass doors, led me to the master bedroom, and shut the door behind us.

Submission time.

I knew what I wanted from him which was  giving me a blowjo that my 9 inch cock deserved.I had heard he was gay and I took the opportunity that was being presented but being straight I wanted him to make the first move. I was only interested in emptying my balls within his eager mouth.

I too, knew what he wanted and  I wanted it also, I hoped it would start by him unleashing  what I surmised whas a huge cock which I would start to suck and then have him ease his stiff cock within my ass and fuck me to a mutual orgasm.I knew I had to bide my time but deep down eventually would happen.

I arrived this Sunday to feel the situation out whether he would give me that signals that he was intersted or not. He was still in his robe  which told me he was comfortable in my presence. He asked whether I wanted to smoke a joint with him. I agreed sensing my own nervousness and his. We shared the joint within the bathroom with him sitting on the toilet and me standing in front of him. He kept looking at my crotch  which was growing by the minute. He gestured me to come closer  and as he did his robe opened  showing me he cock was steel hard. Was he telling me that he wanted a blow job which I had no interest in doing. Luckily, he noticed I was hesitant and he gave me a signal to me that he wasn’t offering me his cock to suck. What he wanted was for me to ask him  to suck my cock. 

When my robe opened by mistake I knew I had scared him, making him think I wanted head from him. He and I finished the joint and went to my bedroom to relax and listen to music. I admitted to him that I feel real relaxed with him hoping I would make the first move which I refused to do. I asked whether he wanted a drink hoping this would break the stalemate between us. As we started to drink a very strong scotch  he constantly groped his cotch readjusting what still remained hidden.

He then put some straight porn on which made matters worst. The outline of my cock was obvious. He then asked whether the porn excited me and  i immediately unzioped my blue jeans along with the snap qnd pulled both my jeans and underwear to my knees. There I had made it quite evident what I wanted. Would he take the next srep.

After he unleashed his cock now it was my turn. I changed my position bringing my face close to his cock. As I brought my mouth to his hard cock and looked at him watching me intently as I took the head of his cock within my mouth he let out a groan of intense pleasure making him thrust his hips upward feeding me more of his cock. I immediately started to suck his cock trying to take his nine incher all the way to his huge balls.

When I felt my cock within his llips I knew I had found bliss and soon I would be feeding him my huge load of cum. I wanted to know if he wanted my cum and as I asked him it only  made him suck harder. And when I asked if he wanted to swallow my cum  he could only answer by nodding his head that he would. I knew it wouldn’t be long since  my balls had started to rise up which happened before I busted my load.

When he asked whether I would swallow his cum  I knew what he wanted. He surprised me  telling me to change position so he had better access  to my cock .He opened my robe  and I felt him lean over and I felt the hot breath of his mouth near the head of my cock  I thought he was going to suck me too. Before he had a chance to try out my cock I felt and tasted his first shot of cum enter my lips and hit the back of my throat. He was totally lost in his orgasm  each time forcing his spurting cocks within my lips. He even grabbed by head making sure I took all his cum.

I was curious about what his cock would taste like. I had never thought about sucking a guy’s cock but I wanted ti reciprocate and thank him . All at once, I felt my cum leave my balls and I was lost in my orgasm. I could tell he was swallowing which made it even better. After feeding him at least six heavy shots of my cum I could only lay back enjoying what had just happened. He continued to nurse my now shrinking cock.

Let’s Try

It was our first public blowjob. I should know Jack by now, and even so, I was still surprised that he didn’t give a damn, he’d alredy sucked my cock and enjoyed, so it was just the same for him that anybody could see us. For everyone in Steep Slopes we were a couple and now everybody on the beach was watching him. At the same time my dick began feeling the waves of a close orgasm at the rhythm of the waves, so close to us. My feelings for that wonderful boy were by now almost love. He’d told me the day before that since we were fuck buddies, he could depilate, but I had told him: please don’t Jack, I like you just as you are. So he’d compromised. After now I would have a wonderfully hairy fuck buddy, an extraordinary boy who once he knew what he wanted, he went for it to its ultimate consequences. All of this I already knew and with the wonderful motions of his tongue, I couldn’t do anything else than fill his mouth with my semen one more time, for I knew well he liked the taste and wanted to drink it.

Of course now it had to be me who also sucked his cock in public. As I reveled again at the good taste of Jack’s shaft and probably I was licking some of his pubic hair at the same time, but enjoying the taste now, I felt that a lot of voyeurs had approached us wanting to see more sex between two boys. Some of them soon started to do the same, those who had a partner, and there were more public blowjobs on the beach. Those who had no partner stayed to watch and encouraged me, saying things like: yeah, Leonard, satisfy your boyfriend just the same as he did before. And the word boyfriend was too much for Jack who came in that moment. How good it was to drink that boy’s juice over and over again.

Now we were swimming for another half an hour and I know now that Jack was seriously thinking of the word boyfriend. He was not in love yet, that I know of, but he was starting to desire becoming more than my fuck buddy.

With constant blowjobs, we preferred them now to masturbations, and constantly kissing and touching and of course sleeping together, we reached our final week of holidays and I know he was thinking what would happen between us later and how far I wanted to go with him. He knew I really lusted for him but he wanted to really hook me up. Now he’d found somebody who really liked him, for I really liked Jack Dempsey, and he knew it, he wanted never to lose me.

So it was that the first night of our last week there, he told me in bed that he wanted to start by sucking my cock again. Of course I said it would be ok and again I would be next. He carried fire to my dick one more time and I was feeling the fun of having such a skillful tongue working my fun there, but suddenly he stopped a while. I thought it was just foreplay and in a very short while he would continue but I was quite astonished when I saw him rising enough and turning so I could watch his sexy ass and before I could know what he was doing, I noticed he was fucking himself on my dick.

-Now fuck me, Leonard.

-Jack, we don’t have to fuck.

-At this point I’m wondering where I am with you and not sure whether you love me Leonard.

I answered him with my dick now fucking him in earnest.

-I don’t love you yet, Jack, or that’s what I think. But oh, you’re such a surprising boy, and such a moving boy, that if I’m not in love with you so far, I might end up falling in love with you right now.

-Leonard, you want a fuck buddy and so do I and it’s not just that for the first time in my life I’ve found somebody who likes me, but believe me, I also like you a lot, so I had to try everything with you and give you every sexual fun, whether you want a fuck buddy or a boyfriend. I’d love to try with you.

-These holidays had made me change all my points of views, Jack, and I’ve learnt with you that it’s not necessarily a girl that I need. But what about the rest of the world, our workmates?

-I’m sure I like you, Leonard, and I don’t care about the rest of the world. If I could become the partner of such a wonderful boy I’d be in heaven.

All that time my lips had been all the time in his, but even so I was able to hear all the words he’d just addressed me. But now, knowing I could be more than Jack’s fuck buddy, I filled his ass for the first time with my jizz. Instantly I turned and told him now he should fuck me. He’d surrendered his ass to me and now it would be my turn. I also wanted to try everything with Jack.

-Ok, Leonard, if you’re sure, I will also try.

In came my friend’s dick, carefully, lovingly, not willing to hurt me and I could feel the care with which he started fucking me. If I felt a slight pain, I did not show him. Jack must have felt something similar before and never showed pain, just determination to be fucked and becoming whatever I wanted to be with him. And my first time was really easy with his tenderness. He never stopped kissing me, but not only my lips. With his cock all the time up my butt and the pain being less and less, he started kissing my chest, then came down to kiss my dick and my balls and it was then that it stopped hurting me and so much sweetness made me say something.

-Jack, not sure whether I love you so far but I think I also fell in love with Molly like this, little by little and now if you really wanna be my boyfriend, let’s try, Jack.

And for the first time in my life a boy had just erupted inside me. I was filled with Jack’s nectar; I was fulfilled with Jack’s virility.

-I’m also sure that I will end our holidays in love with you, Leonard –he told me-. Now we can finish the week having all kinds of sex with each other and starting to be a couple, if you desire that chance just as much as I do.

-I really want to be your boyfriend, Jack.

We also started fucking publicly, in the dunes, and really met some good friends that we kept for years. It had all started coincidentally but Jack and I knew we had started something beautiful and magical. I’ve never repented of the events those days in the campsite, where I really got to know an extraordinary human being, the bravest and most open-minded of boys and I love to see him so happy with me. We fell in love clearly our last days there and we knew that when we returned we would live together and inform all our workmates and everybody but so far there we were enjoying the sun and the sea in our last days of holidays.

---

Freedom can move your life and it can be seen even in the hardest conditions, together with love and friendship, happiness and beauty. Have a look at the life of eight beggars who live together at: https://luces-delatierra.blogspot.com/ or in English at: https://lightsoftheearth.blogspot.com/

Dinner Date

Erik left work a little early and went home to shower and change out of his work clothes. He felt as though he was getting ready for a date. He stripped and was about to get in the shower when he thought back to what Todd mentioned about needing a trim. Erik looked at his crotch and decided he could do a bit of a clean up and reached under the sink for his trimmer. He started his clean up and made sure to trim back any hair on his shaft. He reached up and got a razor and shaving cream. He lathered up his balls and shaved them clear of any hair. His dick was fully hard and he couldn’t stop himself. He got in the shower and jacked himself off. He fantasized about tonight and how he wanted the evening to go. He came soon and shot his load against the wall. He let the water run down his body for a few minutes and then stepped out. He looked over his body. His trim work did make his dick look better.

Erik headed to the restaurant and found Javier at a table. They ordered a couple drinks and then dinner. Erik felt hypnotised by Javier. He just couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted him sexually, but also just wanted him. He listened as Javier talked about where he grew up and moving to this country. He had finished school and got this job a couple years ago. He enjoyed it, but planned on getting his MBA and would see where that took him. Erik explained this was his first post college position. He enjoyed it and would see what it leads into.

They finished dinner and had a few more drinks. They headed out of the restaurant and Javier walked Erik to his car. He told Erik he really enjoyed himself and asked if they could get together next week. Erik smiled and said it was still early. Maybe a nightcap at the hotel? Javier got a huge grin on his face. I like that idea. But, I think we should have another dinner before I have you back to my hotel room and ravage you. Erik was shocked. He had been turned down, but turned on at the same time. Javier leaned in and kissed Erik and slid his hand down Erik’s arm and squeezed his hand. Next week Erik, next week. Javier pulled away and walked to his car. He winked at Erik as he drove by.

FUUUUUCKKK! Erik shook his head. What just happened? Erik got in his car and started driving home. His dick was throbbing. FUUUUUCKKKK that man turned me on! Erik was driving down the highway and remembered a rest stop was coming up that guys cruised. He pulled off into a parking place and noticed a few guys walking into a wooded area. He got out of his car and walked down the path. He found two guys making out and then watched as one dropped down and started sucking the other. He pulled out his dick as he watched. He started jerking off as the men watched him watching them. He didn’t last long. He shot his load onto the ground and headed back to his car. He felt like he had just cheated on Javier.

He drove home and took another shower. He couldn’t get Javier out of his head. He was hooked and hooked hard! He went to bed and dreamt of next week. When he woke up he felt dried cum in his freshly trimmed pubes. FUUUUUUCKKKK! What had this man done to him?

This had to be the slowest week Erik had ever experienced. Work was busy, but dragged. He worked on the floors, but it was a very slow process. Tony offered a blow job and Erik said the stain was giving him a headache and not really in the mood. They finished the staining and it was finally Friday. Tony said that they would need to do a couple coats of poly over the weekend but then the floors would be ready. Tony asked Erik if everything was alright. Erik said yes, he just was in a mood. Nothing to worry about. The next day they were able to get multiple coats of poly on the floors and Sunday Erik added another just to add more protection. He was getting a headache so decided he needed to get out and away from his house.

Erik drove to a nearby lake that had a public beach. He found a spot and set up his towel. He brought a book and spent the next couple hours reading. He checked Facebook and saw a message from Javier. Coming in Sunday at 6. Are you free? Erik looked at his watch. 5:15. He sent a reply and figured Javier was in flight so would get it when he landed. Erik jumped up and ran to his car. He raced home and jumped in the shower. When he was drying off he heard his phone chime. Just landed. Meet you at the restaurant. Erik grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

Erik pulled in the parking lot and parked his car. He unbuckled and then took a few deep breaths. He felt like a teenager and his first crush. Good grief! He took a couple more deep breaths. He got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. It was busier than Erik thought it would be on a Sunday night. Javier was at the bar. He had a drink waiting for Erik. Javier said they should have a table shortly. Erik said the bar was fine or they could just skip dinner altogether. Javier smiled. Easy killer. Good things come to those who wait. Erik actually felt himself pout. Javier dropped his hand down on Erik’s and squeezed his thigh and slid it up towards Erik’s crotch. “Javier – your table is ready.” Erik grabbed Javier’s hand and shook his head. Javier smiled and told the host they were good at the bar.

They ordered a couple appetizers and munched as they talked. Javier made sure a part of his body was discreetly touching Erik. This was a neighborhood restaurant/bar not a gay bar after all. They chatted for a couple hours and Javier said he needed to get back to the hotel. He had an early morning meeting. Erik was unsure if that meant they were going back to the hotel or if he was going back to the hotel. Javier paid the tab and they walked outside. Javier walked Erik to his car and said he really enjoyed talking with him. Again, Erik wasn’t sure what was happening. Erik didn’t want to seem desperate, but kind of was. Javier leaned in to kiss Erik but whispered in his ear instead. Room 213, give me 10 minutes. Erik’s face broke into a huge smile as he watched Javier walk to his car.

Eight minutes later Erik was walking into the hotel. Two minutes later he knocked on the door. Ten LONG seconds later he was kissing Javier. The door shut and Erik pressed into Javier moving him back into the room. Javier took a few steps back but then stopped. He pulled away and smiled. We have all night unless you have somewhere else to be. Erik shook his head. Javier leaned in and kissed Erik softly, gently, slowly. This was different. Erik’s encounters with men were always quickies. Cum and done…move on to the next one. This was more than that. Even more than with his ex-girlfriend, the bitch from hell. Erik felt his body tense. Javier pulled away and took Erik’s hand and led him to the bed. He gently pushed Erik back and then laid next to him. Erik wanted Javier to rip his clothes off of him, but Javier was gentle. His kisses. His caress. Javier could feel the tension in Erik. Javier whispered in Erik’s ear. Relax. We will get there, but this is going to be a marathon, not a sprint. Erik took a deep breath and released it. He felt his body relax as Javier licked his neck. Javier kissed Erik, this time they enjoyed a slow, deep, passionate kiss that curled Erik’s toes.

Javier knew what he was doing. They took their time and they undressed each other. Soon they were naked exploring each other’s body. Javier led their movements, but didn’t take control. Erik explored every inch of Javier’s body. He discovered the areas that made Javier moan and areas that made Javier giggle. Yes, giggle. Javier kissed up and down Erik’s body. He kissed Erik’s dick. He licked the head. Erik waited for Javier to take his cock in his mouth, but it didn’t happen. Javier slid between Erik’s legs. He gently kissed around Eriks balls and inner thighs. Erik ran his fingers through Javier’s dark black hair. The feeling Erik was experiencing was more intense than anything he had ever experienced.

Erik was lost in the gentle erotic sensation of Javier’s attention. It was so intense. It was as if he were in a deep erotic dream. A very erotic dream. A very wet dream. Erik gasped as his cock pulsed and he came across his chest. He couldn’t believe he just came without anyone touching his dick. He was mortified. How could this happen their first time together? Javier lifted up from between Erik’s legs. He smiled. He saw the distress on Erik’s face. Javier slid up and said that was the best compliment anyone has ever given him. Erik was still embarrassed. Javier leaned in and kissed him.

Erik kissed Javier back and pushed him on his back. Erik slid down Javier’s body. It was Erik’s turn to make Javier orgasm. Erik took Javier’s dick in his mouth and sucked. There was a part of Erik that wanted Javier to cum quickly, but there was another part that wanted him to experience the level of satisfaction he had received. He sucked. He enjoyed Javier’s cock in his mouth. He wanted Javier to enjoy it too. He sucked. He felt Javier’s hand on his head and he heard him moan. He sucked. Javier’s moans increased. He sucked. Javier’s hips moved in motion with Erik’s sucking. Erik felt Javier’s hand tighten in his hair. He sucked. Javier groaned and gripped Erik’s hair and released his load into Erik’s mouth. Erik took it all. He wanted every drop. The two men laid together after their orgasms. They stroked each other. Erik thought this was where he was supposed to be.

Javier suggested a shower. He went to the bathroom and started the water. He came out and motioned for Erik to join him. Erik walked over and the two entered the shower. The warm water fell over their bodies. The soaped up their bodies cleaning every spot. Their cocks stayed soft even with all the attention. Their lips met and they spent several minutes kissing. When they finished they dried each other off. Javier pulled Erik into the other room and they fell on the bed together. They kissed and wrapped their arms and legs around each other. They didn’t speak. They just laid together and fell asleep.

When they woke they felt their erections pressed between them. They moved their bodies and were soon sucking each other. They both worked the other’s cock with passion and both swallowed the fruit of their passion. They rolled onto their backs and Javier said he would make coffee while Erik showered. When Erik came out Javier handed him his cup and told him that he really did have an early morning meeting and Erik smiled. I need to get to work also. Monday’s are our busiest day and should get going also. They shared another passionate kiss and Erik floated out the door and headed to work.

Erik couldn’t stop smiling. This isn’t anything he had felt before. Could he be gay and not just like gay sex? His head started to hurt. Erik received a text from Javier. Flying back out tonight. Crisis at work. And a sad face. Erik said he would see him before he leaves. A couple hours later Javier was at the airport. He explained the crisis and said he would call Erik later. They hugged and Javier kissed Erik on the cheek.

Erik wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He went back to work and focused on his day. When he was driving home his cell phone rang. It was Javier. Javier apologized for the abrupt departure. He said the crisis ended up with the firing of several members of the management team. He will find out more but there will be some changes coming.

They spoke everyday for the next several weeks. Javier didn’t travel anymore and it was difficult to make the 8 hour drive from Lexington for the weekend. They both wanted to be together, but it was a challenge. They enjoyed talking and really enjoyed hearing about the other’s days and lives. They also enjoyed talking to each other to orgasm. It was nice, but Erik needed a cock in his mouth.

Over the next several days he met with Scott to discuss service tickets. Scott said he wondered what happened to their meetings. Erik shrugged his shoulders and sucked Scott’s load from his balls. Erik invited Todd and Tony over for drinks. Erik sucked loads out of each of the brothers. Late Friday night Erik made a stop on the way home and swallowed three loads from anonymous men. Erik met with Rich and milked his dark uncut dick of it’s load. When he was done Rich said he had missed him the past few weeks. Rich handed Erik an envelope and told him there were 4 airline passes. The flight crews loved having a vehicle instead of having to take the shuttle and these should even things out for the month. Erik looked at Rich. Do you fly to Lexington?

A couple weeks later Erik arranged to have a long weekend. He was on his flight and when he waited for his bag he heard his name. He turned and saw Javier. The two men embraced and Javier said he was illegally parked and rushed Erik to the car. They drove to Javier’s home. Javier was living with a couple. Andrew and Vince. He said they allowed him to live with them while he was attending college and that he was looking for his own place, but wasn’t sure if this was where he wanted to end up.

The two went out that night and Erik enjoyed seeing Kentucky with Javier. The horse ranches were spectacular. They held hands while they drove. There was no work, no family, no stress, no one else. Just these two men. Erik felt his stomach turn a bit. It was too perfect. He felt Javier squeeze his hand. He smiled and gazed out the window.

That night Andrew and Vince went out and Javier and Erik stayed in. Javier brought Erik a glass of wine and the two spent a quiet evening together. Javier took the glass from Erik and then took his hand and led him to their bedroom. Javier placed both his hands on Erik’s face and kissed him. Erik melted and the two undressed each other. They stood naked and embraced. They kissed and held each other tight. Javier pulled away from their kiss and moved over to Erik’s neck. The feeling sent shivers down Erik’s spine. He felt his nipples harden. He felt his cock ooze precum out of it. He felt his ass pulse. He felt his toes curl.

Javier pulled Erik onto the bed. He pushed Erik onto his back. Erik opened his legs and allowed Javier between them. The men kissed and Erik felt something he had never felt before. He wanted Javier in him. Erik had been with women and sucked men. But not this. Javier moved back down to Erik’s neck and Erik lifted his ass and felt the tip of Javier’s dick rub along his crack. Javier pulled up and looked into Erik’s eyes. Erik nodded and Javier slid off the bed. He said he would be right back. He ran out of the room and was back in what seemed like two seconds. He held up a bottle of lube. He said he got it from Vince’s night stand.

Javier smiled and got back between Erik’s legs. They kissed more and felt their bodies melt together. Javier pushed up from Erik’s body. He slid back onto his knees and opened the bottle of lube. He poured some on his dick and rubbed it around and then added some to Erik’s ass. Erik flinched a little. It was cold. Javier apologized and rubbed his hand over Erik’s opening.

Javier moved and placed the head of his dick at Erik’s entrance. He pressed his weight forward and the head of his dick entered Erik’s virgin ass. Erik gasped and Javier stopped. Erik lifted his hips and Erik slid in further. It felt incredible. There was pain, but in a good way. Erik shifted again and felt Javier push all the way in. They stayed still for a moment and then Javier pulled out a bit and pushed back in. He moved slowly in and out. In and out. Erik shifted with Javier’s movements and then quickly felt a pulsing in his ass. Javier exhaled and his face flushed. Javier covered Erik’s eyes. I’m sorry I came so quick. Erik moved his hand and smiled. What a compliment. Javier smiled. Erik looked in Javier’s eyes. I had never…Javier kissed him. I had never either….

Erik said he couldn’t believe he had never had sex before. Javier said that he only recently came out and wanted his first time to be special. Javier laughed and admitted he has been with a few guys and really enjoys oral, but it never got farther than that. Javier asked Erik why he hadn’t yet. Erik said he is new to the gay scene. He thought he was straight until a few months ago. I enjoyed some man on man oral every now and then, but you are the first guy that I actually have ever had feelings for. It just seemed like I was supposed to do this, with you.

Inside Javier groaned a bit. He knew how he struggled when he first came out of the closet and getting involved with someone during this may not be a good idea. But, he also knew he really liked this man that was staring at him.

Javier rolled off Erik and took his hand. They walked into the master bedroom and Javier filled a large jacuzzi tub. When it was full they stepped in and Erik enjoyed the warm bubbles on his ass. Javier pulled Erik between his legs and kissed the back of his neck as he rubbed bubbles across his chest. Erik truly enjoyed Javier’s touch and laid his head back next on Javier’s shoulder.

Erik was brought out of his relaxed state when the bathroom door opened. Andrew walked in and stopped abruptly. Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. He said. Javier laughed and said it was no problem. Andrew said they left the party early. They decided they wanted to go to the spa and see what kind of trouble they could get into, so we both need to shower and prep a bit. Just then Vince walked and with two drinks. He smiled at Javier and told him not to get up. They would be quick and then they could get back to whatever they were doing.

Both men stripped and Erik was speechless with all that was happening. He was in a bath with another man about to watch two other men take a shower. Andrew stepped in the shower and Erik scanned over his body. His dick was very long! It flopped back and forth as he rubbed soap over his body. Vince stepped in and Erik noticed a cock ring. He had never seen one of those and wondered how Vince was able to get his fat cock into the small ring. He watched the two men soap and wash each other. Andrew turned and let Vince thoroughly wash his ass. When he turned back around Erik gasped a bit. Andrew’s dick was hard and at least 10” long and standing straight up! Erik turned to Javier and mouthed OH MY GOD! Javier whispered in his ear. You want to suck it? Erik was shocked. It’s ok, Javier said. We all, kind of, share?

Erik didn’t know what to say. Javier raised his hand and Andrew looked over at him. Javier made a sucking motion with his hand and mouth and Andrew stepped out of the shower and walked to the tub. Javier pushed Erik forward. Erik hesitated and Andrew said he needed to get to it or he was getting back in the shower. Erik looked at Javier who nodded towards the massive erection. Erik leaned in and took the cock in his mouth. Andrew moaned as Erik took the entire length in his mouth and throat.

Javier rubbed Erik’s back as he watched the deep throating Andrew’s dick was receiving. Andrew was moaning and gave Javier an approving smile. Andrew pulled away as he was getting close to orgasm. I need to save that for the spa. Erik sat back in the tub and watched Andrew step back in the shower and rinse off. The two men finished their showers and dressed. They told Javier they would be out late and to not wait up.

Erik turned his body around so he could face Javier. Explain, please! Javier laughed and said that Andrew and Vince were a couple, but had an open relationship. They could have sex with whomever they wanted, whenever, wherever, etc. But, they always had to be honest about it. They usually played together, but on more than one occasion I have come home to find one of them with some random repairman or delivery boy. Erik looked at Javier. Didn’t you say you worked as a delivery driver during school? Javier smiled.

The water in the jacuzzi was getting cold and so the two men got out and dried off. They walked naked to the kitchen and Javier grabbed a couple beers from the fridge. He handed one to Erik and asked. What do you think about an open relationship? Being totally honest about who you sleep with? Erik was so confused. Every encounter he had ever had was in private. He never told another person about his bookstore or park rendezvous. This was not in Erik’s wheel house. Javier explained that he did meet Andrew and Vince during a delivery and after a few more they invited him to visit after work. They all hit it off and he ended up moving in.

Erik’s brain was trying to process this sexual revolution. Erik was raised in a very conservative home and knew being gay was not going to be accepted by his family, let alone being part of an open relationship sex commune. It was so confusing. Part of him liked it, but another part took him way out of his comfort zone. Javier asked if Erik had ever been with more than one person at a time. Erik nodded and admitted to his threeway with Todd and Tony. Javier said he knew those two and loved their bodies. It was weird talking about his sexual life. It just wasn’t something Erik did.

Javier asked if Erik was hungry. Erik said he was and Javier smiled. Should we order delivery? Erik’s eyes widened and Javier made the call. He heard Javier ask if Bill was working. Then he ordered a large pepperoni. He hung up and Erik laughed at him. That sounds like a line from a porno. Javier said Bill’s cock should be in porn, so it all works out.

They walked into the living room and Javier started a fire. He turned on some music and Javier pulled Erik to him and they moved to the music. Their bodies pressed together, each becoming fully erect. The doorbell rang and Javier walked over to answer it. Javier opened the door and in walked Bill. Bill was 6’4. He had tattoos down each muscled arm that was protruding out of a very tight t-shirt with the pizza logo on the front. Erik laughed at the shirt. “Home of the Large Pepperoni” was written across the front.

Bill to Javier he only had a few minutes. He was really busy tonight. Javier shut the door and introduced Erik. The two shook hands and then Bill slid off his oversized pants and boxers. There lay a true HUGE pepperoni. It was dark, beefy, uncut and hardening in front of them. Javier pulled Erik down and they both shared the beefy stick. It was only a couple minutes and Bill announced he was going to cum. Javier pointed the dick at Erik and Bill shot his load all over Erik’s face. Javier quickly licked up the cum and they milked Bill of the rest of his load. Bill pulled back up his pants and shoved his still hard dick inside. He kissed Javier on the cheek and told Erik it was nice meeting him and he was gone.

Erik felt like he had whiplash. What just happened? Javier admitted it was strange at first, but he really likes how open Andrew and Vince are and loves seeing that they have no secrets. Javier said he understands that it is not for everyone, but asked Erik if he would think about it. Javier took Erik’s hand and led him to the bedroom. How about now you fuck me? Erik felt his dick pulse and precum ooze from the head.

Javier said he had no idea how he wanted to be fucked for the first time. But, he wanted them both to enjoy it. Javier asked if Erik liked how he did it and Erik nodded. Javier pointed out Erik was much girthier than he was so he asked Erik to take it slow. Erik suggested maybe it would be best if Javier was on top and he could go as slow or fast as he wanted. Javier agreed and it was almost comical as Javier and Erik positioned themselves. Porn stars they were not.

Javier didn’t like being on top. He got off Erik and got on his hands and knees, lifting his ass towards Erik. Erik got behind him and pressed the head of his dick against Javier’s ass. Javier pulled away and grabbed the bottle of lube and handed it to Erik. Erik added lube to his cock and to Javier’s hole. He pressed again and he felt the head slide in. Javier breathed in deep and told Erik to stop. Erik pulled out. Javier took a few deep breaths. OK, after you put it in, don’t move. Just leave it in and let me try to get used to it. Erik nodded and pressed against Javier’s hole again. His head went in and he froze. Javier breathed deeply and nodded into the pillow. Erik pressed forward and Javier moaned, you are thick! Erik stopped and Javier shook his head, keep going. Erik pressed the rest of his length in and stopped. Javier was breathing heavy and nodded his head. Erik pulled back and forth slowly. He couldn’t believe how tight and wet this felt. Nothing like his previous girlfriends. His balls told him he wasn’t going to last long. He moaned and Javier nodded. Yes. Erik moaned and Javier said YES! Erik’s cock pulsed and cum filled Javier’s ass. Erik could hear his heart beating and Javier’s heavy breathing. Erik’s body shivered and his dick slipped out of Javier. Erik fell next to Javier and they both laughed a bit. We’re not virgins anymore, Javier stated, as he felt cum leak from his ass.

Sunday morning arrived and both men knew that Erik was going to be leaving shortly. They stayed in bed as long as they could, swallowing two loads from each other and Erik taking another in his ass. When they finally emerged from the bedroom Andrew and Vince were sitting on the couch snuggled into each other. It sounded like you two had quite a morning! Andrew said with a smile. Erik blushed and Javier smiled and said, Jealous? Andrew said yes, as he got to experience a bit of Erik last night! Erik really blushed this time.

Javier said he would be running Erik to the airport in a few minutes and would be home in time for game night. Javier told Erik he probably wasn’t ready to join their game night, so it was probably good timing for Erik to be leaving! Erik said his goodbyes and as they were driving to the airport Erik asked for more details about game night. Javier smiled and said it is a very adult version of a few family games. There are 10-15 guys that show up and by the end of the night everyone has usually cum a few times. Erik shook his head. What was he getting himself into?

They pulled into the departure area and Erik couldn’t make himself get out of the car. He turned to Javier. Javier leaned in and kissed him. Call me when you get home. Erik took a deep breath and exited the car. He wanted to stay, but he didn’t want to stay, he walked towards the airport but stopped and turned to watch Javier drive away.

We were young, invincible and on our own; non-stop sex, drugs, rock and roll half-hidden in the dorm.  Classes repeated high school courses, easy to ace.   Spent every Monday recuperating from the weekend, every Thursday planning the next weekend’s pa-r-r-r-tay.  

That’s where Doug and I found each other–I froze juice cubes for the bucket of sangria, he brought gallons of wine.  

First two years at uni eliminated the undecided guys of our queer clique–left a lusty crew of gay demigods carrying a heavy load of hedonism alongside our studies.  

Fortunately, I was on scholarship; upperclassmen clued me in on the most lenient professors.  Doug was family-funded and being an art student, he could say he was in a blue mood or a yellow funk if he fell behind.  Dark haired with hazel eyes and light tan skin, Doug was classically handsome in a casual, Elvis Presley way; charmed men and women alike.  Hard to refuse his soft, baritone excuses.

* * *

Doug moved off campus after his junior year, opened an unofficial clubhouse for the freshmen fags.  In “the studio” his male models came and left evidence; thongs, lube, and oddly, one day I found a pair of tortoise shell, half-lens glasses, “One of your models leave these?”

He grabbed them, hung them on his easel, “ Oh, yeah–Mr. Concupiscent.”   He winked.  Despite that, we continued to date, became an unofficial couple.  

Doug’s drug use ramped up.  Being off campus allowed him to produce incredibly intense works.  His canvases exploded with sensuality.

Propped him up repeatedly during his senior year.  He skated through to graduation with a few bucks to the alumni committee, I suspected.  Doug was polite to my family; his family greeted me warmly.  His father couldn’t make the big event.

* * *

Doug painted highly sensual portraits of men, embracing and most engaged intimately.  These were his favored subjects.  Figures were splashed on the canvas with sharp, black lines.  Deep browns and skin tones.  He highlighted the black with stingingly vibrant tertiary colors–magenta, turquoise, chartreuse. Overtly virile subjects; the faces were never clear but for their struggling expressions suggesting primal urgency.

Thought he would sell his works through an agent, they were that good.  Instead, he sold them through his street contacts for pennies on what they could have brought.  His family continued to fund his living expenses, art sales went for drugs.

After graduation, I moved into his studio.  

Cobbler’s children have no shoes; my lover had serious addiction issues and I now held a degree in social work.  Faced two more years of administration classes with him beside me.  

In love, in lust and we were hornier than chimps on poppers.  

* * *

“Bright futures,” everyone commented yet Doug was on shaky ground.  Lucid moments–the moments between the drugs wearing off and before he became sick that were the best.  There was still a creative, funny kid inside him.  

Sex was incredible during the first few moments the chemicals sneaked into his bloodstream.  Made both of us want to devour each other; I seldom imbibed with him, I wanted to feel, smell, hear, taste it all.  

* * *

Parents raised me to be fair, sensitive–a gentleman.  That changed in our bed.  

Through our early years, I became a master to a man begging for brutal punishment.  I was young, my defenses weren’t hardened yet I grasped the role more easily than I expected.  Acquired the wisdom of  knots, restraints, the whip, timing and a dom’s disgusting lexicon.  

Powerful, that’s what I felt when he groveled.  The smell of his fear oozed along with his sweat; intoxicating, addictive.

Models, friends, fantastic hunks he lured to join our play.  U bolts attached to the bed, cock cages, he brought for me to clamp on him.  Refused the taser, yet became an expert with the clips.  Whipped the tartan of the BDSM clan on his legs and back.

As a pedestrian guy, studying for a banal career, I never figured I’d sample the extoic extremes we practiced.

* * *

Skidded through my last two years on campus watching him physically decline.  Doug looked bad; skin eruptions, dental problems and his thick mane of black hair thinned.  Bloodshot eyes, yellowish-gray skin stretched over his bones–he looked twenty years older as he took to the bottle along with his other potions.  I couldn’t leave him.  

He needed me.  Begged and whined for my Mr. Hyde; our sex inspired him.

* * *

Wasn’t long, the tables turned: I began begging, and whining, he refused rehab, medical care. 

I landed a position with the county and signed him onto my benefits.  Kept hounding him; he stubbornly spurned help and my second month on the job I got the call.  Yeah, the call.

One of his models had to narcaine my lover back to life in the studio.  Model left after he called the ambulance and rifled through our place.

Met Doug at the hospital.  An intern convinced Doug to stay for a few days, promising him he’d get eased through the withdrawals with more drugs.  

Not sure if Doug knew it was an insult when the intern also told him he wasn’t so creative if he needed the drugs to produce artwork.  Those words stung me and that intern was right.  Doug chose the thirty day program.

* * *

The next several years were a repeat of that incident.  My drug of choice was holding complete control over him in the bedroom.  I enjoyed watching him squirm, grunt through his gag and his eyes pleading with me to let him cum.  Seeing him suffer gave me revenge-like satisfaction for tolerating his addictions.  

I began lengthening the time before I let him cum.  Lengthened to the point of torture.  Tears, pain were the cost of all my worry he flippantly ignored.  

I was hooked on control yet held none over his drug use.

* * *

Physically a wreck, and mentally Doug was eroding, faltering.  Painting ceased.  Staring out the window with the headphones on obsessed him.  He was given medications by his shrink, I believe he traded or augmented them while I worked.  

Upsetting when sex stopped, got a taste of his withdrawals.

* * *

Don’t know what the jail or state mental hospital rooms looked like; our home was kept to the bare minimum.  Doug’s friends came over, didn’t eat anything, but left a mess and took what they thought they could fence.  Couldn’t hire a maid; needles, pipes were strewn about.  Came to hate coming home to a drug house, then seeing Doug sick, wearing urine-stained jeans, stinking and in a stupor.

I hit the wall–fed up with it.  Need for security, stability outweighed the high of domination.  Wanting more than shifting tides to live in, “Quit or I’m gone.  I can’t take this anymore.”  

I had enabled him; he enabled me to hold to those words with an iron fist.

* * *

Doug got help; not voluntarily–no force from me; he got caught with his dealer.  Drug court judge was experienced; gave Doug a choice: three years in county or into the mental institution for a full work-up with mandatory year of outpatient treatment.  

Doug had to think about it while I reminded him he was in no shape to defend himself physically in jail.

Cops took him to the mental institute.  No phone, no razor allowed, nothing pointed or sharp.  Trembling during intake, Doug was dope sick and confused.  I left as a nurse induced IV tranquility.

As bad as it was at home, being alone was worse.  Doubt and loneliness overwhelmed me.  Without all Doug’s resistance,  moodiness left me undefined, at loose ends.  Didn’t realize at the time, but I could have found someone else.  Doug, his problems dovetailed with my perceived sainthood; bound us.

* * *

Saturday and Sunday afternoon visits for two hours.  We sat in a common area furnished in plastic chairs, faded framed watercolors bolted to the wall.  

Week by week, Doug began looking better.  As his beard lengthened, his smile appeared occasionally.  Medical, dental care, vitamins, eating regularly and plenty of prescribed meds were working.

Weather warmed, allowed on the hospital grounds.  I had enough privacy to tell Doug I missed him, loved him, “Let’s start over.”  

Can’t be sure if he meant it, and he said that’s what he wanted, “Won’t be the same.  I’ll try.”

He told me something I didn’t question, and couldn’t fully understand.  Doug said he used drugs to make calluses on his spirit.  “Drugs make a tough cover, like armor.”

While Doug had built up defense against past pain reemerging; I’d built myself an irrational coping mechanism.  Domination made me feel like I was in control.  For a few hours, I was a god constraining the source of my pain.  

Foolish, irrational thoughts, perverse salves for where our lives had led us.

* * *

We were allowed to celebrate our fifth anniversary together.  Not our usual kind of party, everything in the hospital was soft, ivory-colored and spongy.  None of the edginess of real life.  

Doug and I attended family counseling.  No surprise that everyone in the room was dealing with a similar issue, though with Doug, he had a good chance to return to his art, pick up where he left off.  

* * *

Spiritual calluses scraped off, Doug came home.  We stopped for art supplies; he planned to audit classes, get back to his studio.  I kept my fingers crossed.  

Gags, ropes, cock cage packed away, I admitted to Doug the sensations they brought, and I didn’t want that kind of relationship, even in play.  It was addictive for me.  “Got to stop.”

Waited several minutes for a response.  “There’s other things to do….”  He whispered.  Made me leery, but I could live with that.

Regularly attended our support group meetings in town.  Occasionally brought a few friends home for dinner; we tread a slower path alongside each other.  The empty space of unknowns and unspokens was palpable between us.  

* * *

Through the months, Doug’s old paintings began showing up.  Doug’s earlier erotic works were large.  Our garage held over twenty canvases at the end of the year.  Vivid colors on his work reflected the craziness of his life on drugs.  He explained the tense, accentuating hues hid the pain under his spiritual callouses.  

Wasn’t long before he was reselling them to private buyers through an agent. This time the money didn’t go to drugs, he said he’d opened an   online account.

 Would his verve return and bring the cockrings, and whips with it?  

It didn’t.  

Doug was careful; his goal was to become internationally known and he was sketching from photos constantly.  

His art took on pastel shades, fewer dynamic, diagonal compositions.  Relaxed, and unimaginative, his subjects had no passion or vitality holding them to the canvas.  Colors were the same as facial tissue boxes and he medicated correctly to sleep deeply every night.

My work with geriatric clients was tedious.  My home life was as spongy as the institute.  

Pale, thin and quiet, Doug escorted me toward middle age placidly.  He referred to our past as a test of survival.  

* * *

“Zing!”  In bright red, flashing letters caught my eye.

The ad promised to put zing back in life.  Package vacation in El Raval Barcelona was guaranteed to reinvigorate a bland sex life, “Get out of your rut now!”  Sounded like what I needed, what we needed and approached Doug.:   

“Big party, invite the support group, our families.  Then, fly to Barcelona for two weeks.  We can rent a flat, let our hair down, and go to the beach every day.”  

Lukewarm acknowledgement from Doug.  

As it goes in the progression of life, I was tired of uncertainty and hoped to get all eight of Doug’s cylinders stroking again.  But mostly I wanted more of a commitment to calm my anxiousness about a man I loved–I saw us growing old together.  

Married, legally correct or common-law, I would have the power to commit him if the drugs reappeared.  Hospitalization worked before.  So, I campaigned, bribed and begged.  Kept at him with every approach I could devise: being super-sweet, overbearing and again with the whining.  

Last resort I told him he owed me for keeping him out of jail.  He nodded but refused verbal approval of our union.

We set a date; plane tickets, Raval apartment booked.  

* * *

Begrudgingly Doug invited his family.  His mother and sisters offered to bring the wedding cake; “Doug’s father is out of town.”  

My family was always up for a party and offered to bring the champagne.  They were glad I was settling down though they didn’t appreciate what they found out about Doug’s past.  

A few friends from our support group and several of my coworkers responded.  A week ahead of our nuptials, I called a maid and a caterer to handle the details.  Life was finally going to become the rich, full experience of a healthy, queer couple.  

To the world, we’d be the ideal.

* * *

As the date neared, Doug became more distant, anxious.  Came home Thursday before the event to find him in his studio.  Headphones on and no music playing, staring out the window.  

Sketch pad and easel were on the floor, pastels and charcoals were scattered.  Streak of yellow chalk arced the floor by the window.  Other chalks were crushed and broken .  Backdrop lay on the floor, half unrolled and torn.  Knotted, used condom and greasy smears on the platform.  His linseed oil?

My stomach tensed, “What happened?”  That’s when I saw his dick covered with grease and clotted with broken black charcoal over his bright red penis; under his foreskin.  

He couldn’t have jerked off to rub himself raw with the chunks of pigment.  Looked painful.  Looked closer, the end of a paper shading stump was sticking out his slit.  Damn, did he do that to himself?       

“No wedding.”  Nasal monotone as his eyes met mine.

“We’ll have a ceremony, promise to stay close, help each other–nothing religious or legal.”  Pulled him to his feet and pulled him to me.  Saw he had a knot on his head and his lip was swollen.  “Were you raped?  Did one of your models do this?”

He didn’t answer.

Took him to the shower, “Who did this?”

No answer.

Cleaned him up in silence.  Gave him his meds, lay beside him, showed him pictures of El Raval, the small apartment I rented.  The people, the beach, the sites, colorful markets and cafes, “We’ll rent bikes and tour the area–sound good?

No response.

* * *

Took an extra day off, had to get Doug to the clinic for additional meds. They took a week to start working; I doubled his dose to speed the blood level increase.  Ceremony was twenty hours away.

Doug’s affect was flat, he was unresponsive, almost in a zombie state.  

In one of the most desperate acts of my life, I called my dad, “You gotta help me with Doug.  Come early… say you’re helping set up.  Stay with him, he’s… he’s not angry or crazy, but he’s feeling really, uh, off.  Until his meds start working, help me get him through the ceremony.”

“That’s a job for your mother.”  

Mom would send him to the institute again.  “Please.  You gotta help me out–I’m doing everything I can to get our lives back on track.”  

Took me almost half an hour to get him to agree.

* * *

Morning of our quasi-union, six hours to go.  

Dad showed up early.  “Doug, Dad’s going to stay with you while I get things ready.”  I left them in the studio.

Caterer, guests arrived, everything in place.  Music played, people spoke softly.  Doug’s mother kept asking for him, she was proud, showing everyone pictures of him as a boy.  My mom began singing along with Kelly from the support group who brought his keyboard and speakers; stalling for time.

Ran upstairs, found Dad and Doug.  Dad was shaky on his feet, eyes wide, sweating.  Doug stood behind him, hanging his head.

Didn’t have time to question them; shoved them in the bath to straighten up while I dressed.  Grabbed my jacket with our airplane tickets in the pocket and our suitcase.  Doug’s shrink gave me two tranquilizers, our flight was over nine hours long from Miami to Barcelona.  Checked I had all his other meds, lugged the suitcase downstairs..

Now, get through the ceremony and to the airport and find out what the hell happened three days ago in the studio, then with my dad before we left.

* * *

Exchange of vows:  Kept it brief, Doug was able to tell me he loved me, but glanced at my dad and almost smiled.   Dad left the room.  

I waxed poetic for twenty-seven words and the celebration began.  Cake, champagne, music and as soon as the blue van pulled in the drive, I grabbed our bag and Doug’s arm.  

On the way out the door, Dad pulled me aside, “Don’t hate me.”

“I won’t”  Wasn’t sure what that was about and Dad was an upright guy.

* * *

Gave Doug his tranquilizer before takeoff and the drink cart cruised the aisle.  Strapped in, “What did you and my father do in the studio?”  Whispered.

“Your Dad–he’s inspiring.”  Then he said he loved my dad.  

Not chunky, yet never svelte, my father was average, unimpressive–we looked a lot alike.  “What’s going on?  Tell me what happened, he told me not to hate him.”

“Don’t put money on it….”  Doug’s head leaned back and his eyes closed, gliding into dreamland. 

* * *

Landed smoothly at El Prat.  Got an espresso for Doug, and his mood changed.  He enjoyed the sounds and colors of Barcelona.  The men were gorgeous, and the Spaniards super friendly.  

Window shopped through El Raval, looking for our flat.  Seemed to be a number of cops in the area–made me feel this would be a perfect, hassle-free trip.  

* * *

Wide, landscaped boulevards and narrow alleys and walkways, we stopped several times to ask directions.  El Raval neighborhood smelled old, hints of mold and yet everything was clean, inviting.  

Colorful rugs hung over patio railings reflecting the patchwork of humanity in El Raval.  Music wafted from the open windows and the smells of dinners welcomed us to one narrow door painted a deep mulberry with lilac trim.  Rest of the facade was soft beige sprinkled with red and black graffiti.  

An elderly woman in the first apartment gave us a key and told us to watch out for pickpockets, I guessed; my Spanish wasn’t great.

Up a very narrow set of dark stairs to the second floor, inside were only two rooms painted in lime green behind potted palms, a simple bed, table and chairs.  This had to have been built almost two-hundred years ago yet it was spruced up, enough for us.  

Took Doug to the tall, shuttered windows with the map in hand.  “Beach is that way, and the gay bars are over there….”

He was staring at the street as I told him I wanted to go to the galleries, hoping to increase his enthusiasm, his former electric style of painting.  

Doug watched the street below, not hearing me.  

Looked down to see a drug transaction in progress.  

* * *

Dined at several places that night, shopped for the smallest swimwear possible, danced til the sun came up and left for the sunrise at the surf.  Under an umbrella on loungers, we enjoyed tapas and fell asleep as almost nude male bodies paraded past.  

Since Doug didn’t take his sleeping pill last night, I figured I better get him to bed for a long nap.  I’d wake him with strawberries and suck his nipples while he ate, prompting some slow, easy sex. 

* * *

Left him to sleep while I went to the market.  Headed downstairs, out to the street when my phone rang.  

“Lyle, where are you staying?”  

“Dad?   Where are you?”  Heard Spanish in the background.

“El Prat, just arrived.  I need to apologize to you and talk to Doug.  This Rival place, it’s a hotel?”  

“It’s El Raval, an old neighborhood, we’re in an apartment.  Why apologize?”

“Can’t discuss it from here.”

Gave him directions and went to the store.  Met him on the stoop when I returned, “What’s to apologize for?”

“I need to speak to Doug.”  He grabbed his bag and followed me upstairs.  

Halfway up the stairs, I remembered, “Don’t put money on it.”  Got a queasy feeling as I opened the door to our flat. 

* * *

Doug had showered and lay on the bed watching the news when we came in.  He jumped up seeing Dad, embraced him.  They whispered a few things, then kissed–Dad kissed Doug the way he kissed Mom.  

Doug kissed Dad the way he used to kiss me.  “How long has this been going on?”  I pulled them apart.  

Dad pulled out his tortoise shell reading glasses, opened his phone to show me pics of Doug’s old studio.  “Since your junior year at uni… around then.”  He looked up at me, “Went to the studio.  Needed you to sign the title to the old Toyota–remember?  That’s when I had a chance to get to know him.”

That was when Doug had opened his studio to models, freshmen.  Doug turned away when I glared at him.  

“He inspires me.”  That was Doug’s mumbled response, and those were our days of more than casual sex.  Could I hold it against my lover?  

Yeah.  He knew he was fucking my dad; shoulda told me.

Turned to the kitchen sink, began rinsing tumblers, thinking.  Heard Dad unzipping his suitcase behind me.  Dad was planning to stay?  

* * *

Hurt, confused and half-angry, I needed more explanation on why this was happening now:  “Dad, when did you find out you were bisexual?  Why did you have to pick Doug?  Don’t you realize that this is probably as close as I’ll ever come to a wedding and honeymoon?  You’ve destroyed my life.”

Dad canted his head, “Look at my life–queer all those years as a husband.  Never honest with myself or anyone else.  I’m sorry I hurt the boy I love, and I have to be true to myself now that you’re grown.  You’ll find another man, you’re handsome, have a good job.”

He grabbed the juice glasses and took them to the couch, where he’d sat a bottle from the duty-free store at the airport–Dos Maderas Rum.

“Finally my days of hiding are over.  Won’t waste  the rest of my life in the suburbs, grilling and mowing the yard and trying to satisfy your mother when I could only satisfy myself with Doug.”

“What about Mom?”  This would devastate her.

“Divorce is in the works now.  She’ll be fine, we’ve got a social worker in the family to help her.”  He nodded and lifted his glass, “No easy way to fix a lie that’s lasted this long–let’s celebrate the truth.  I’m as queer as you are.”

Doug saw the rum, leaned forward and spiked his juice, Dad’s and looked at me.  He offered the open bottle.

I shook my head; emotional shock was setting in when another warning bell blasted; Doug was drinking again.  This was going to crash soon–he had seen the dealing in the street, carried his own scripts.  

Fear and pain increased; my unease headed toward panic, rage.  I was out, cut off and I couldn’t force either of them to give the other up.  No more begging Doug to stop–I wanted to beat him senseless.  Instead, “If I would have known this was more your honeymoon than mine, I would have booked a suite in Paris.”  I spat at them.

“How did you know?”  Doug tossed the rest of his drink back, “We’re leaving for Paris tomorrow.  The apartment’s yours, the gay bars are right over there.”  He pointed out the window, mocking me.

I felt the completely emptied watching Doug pack and leave with Dad.  

* * *

Called Mom, she was fine with the divorce.  Seems she suspected and tried to play along all those years, “Take a rest, Lyle, come back and we’ll celebrate all of us being liberated from your dad’s cowardice.  You can meet my boyfriend Abel–he’s a real sweetheart….”

Spent the rest of my vacation visiting the museums, and found a Tunisian medic to dine with, stroll along the beach.  Couldn’t bring myself to do much more; still in shock.  

I’d always suspected antipathy from Doug’s father, but couldn’t confirm it.  Where did his streak of deception and evil come from?  

* * *

Tanned, relaxed, calmer, I returned home, back to work.  Occasionally feeling shaky; nothing I could do about it but push through the changes.  

Went through the phases of guilt, sorrow, anger, depression and finally acceptance.  That came the day I moved out of our old place and found a condo near Mom’s house.  We met weekly; Abel was a sweetheart; unsophisticated and slow on the uptake, but he filled his slacks well, and Mom was a healthy woman.

* * *

How long did Doug and Dad last?  

Three years.  Longer than I expected.

Kept tabs through searching the European art scene. They were the talk of galleries now and then.  Photos in the society pages showed Dad in a leather vest, sporting a tattoo under his bush of white chest hair; wore a Muir cap.  Doug wore something like a silk chemise; half feminine with his hair poufed into a lacquered, swirling style, wearing heavy makeup.  

On Dad’s birthday, I texted him, “Happy B’day.  Hope all’s going well.  Lyle.”

No response and didn’t want one.  

* * *

Began burning out at work, felt overwhelmed, useless in my efforts.  Took several more courses and became a family counselor.  Picked up work in the evenings dealing with families who had addiction issues.  

Most of my advice to them was ignored, but they fulfilled their court-ordered requirements to stay together.  Separating the addicts from their families would probably have worked better, it did for me.  

During the counseling sessions Doug’s predictable manipulations paraded in front of me again and again in different words, from different faces.  Addicts have reliable patterns; enablers, too.  

My life was quiet and I could finally earned professional satisfaction.  Still couldn’t imagine myself with anyone but Doug so I stuffed the feelings he brought up and denied I wanted him back.

* * *

Next New Year’s Eve, I got a call from Dad.  He was coming to town, wanted to meet me. “Smooth things out.”  

“Arriving solo?”  Won’t handle triangular dynamics.

“I only want to see you for a few hours, if you’re willing to forgive me for that long.”

Sounded like he’d be alone, I offered to meet him at the airport.  No, didn’t want him in my home.  Got a feeling things could get nasty if Doug was taking a later flight.  

* * *

No hugs; handshakes and I took Dad to a beach cafe.  He ordered wine, lunch.  I only had a tall iced tea.  Leaned back, inspecting Dad’s face; noticed he looked slightly different; his skin was smooth over his cheeks and neck.  “Where’s your Muir?  Saw you got yourself a little kink on in France.  Good for you.”  

“He said you were better than I’d ever be…  can’t bring myself to hurt him, degrade him, and I can’t take a dump just anywhere.”  He looked toward the surf, “I refused to pierce my dick.”

“He’s back on the drugs?”

“Met a German who bought most of his newer work, and wanted more; part of the payment was pharmaceutical.  The buyer turned him on to a man with a dungeon.  Almost suicidal the way he chases pain.”

I waited till the server left his salad:  “What happened before our wedding?  Did he ever tell you who tore up his studio?”

“His father came when he heard Doug was going to openly commit to your relationship.  The man hates queers and hates Doug.  Things got physical, then worse–Doug was torn up.  Not sure if he asked for it.”  He stopped.  

“Doug said he loved his father, always wanted him, but only got abused.  He wanted his father’s attention, even if it hurt.  Before your union, we were in the studio, he was talking nonsense about me being his real father since we met.”  After a deep sigh, “He called me Daddy….”

* * *

Beating the bones of the past didn’t help anyone now.  “Wait here.”  I went to the front of the restaurant, grabbed a So-FL Gay News and brought it to Dad.  “Find yourself a nice guy, you’re good looking, well-situated.  You’ll get over it.”

He opened the paper, looked through a few listings, “Could you drop me off  where I can get a room till I’ve got my bearings?  Been rough the past few years.”

He’d taken the same craziness that I did; I took him home with me.  

“You want me to call Mom?  She’s engaged now; doing well.”

“I’ll take care of it myself.”  He mumbled, continued sorting his laundry.  “Isn’t there a Jensen’s down the street?”

“No booze in the house.  Can’t stand the smell of it, and don’t want to deal with the side effects.  Alcohol’s a depressant.”

He nodded and lay down on the couch to regulate his body to the EST time zone.

* * *

Life was quiet, Dad held his liaisons elsewhere, gone every Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights.  I wasn’t ready to give up my hair shirt for speedos and a smile.  

First Saturday in February, he asked me to go with him to the Keys.  “Looking for a place  You’ll never find the man of your dreams with me hanging around your neck.”

“Wait till after a hurricane, see who won’t take the floods anymore.”  I thought for a moment, “You can afford a house in the Keys?”  

“Going to rent a slip, live in a marina.  Find a small boat and get a Greek sailor’s cap.”  

* * *

One marina to the next, slip fees were high yet the lifestyle was appealing.  Manager at Big Cedar told us a man named Alvarez wanted to sell  his boat, move back to the mainland.  

Alvarez told us to get the key from the manager, he’d meet us later.

Located the right pier, the right slip and found an older wooden boat rocking gently; coastal cruiser that slept four in the nineteen forties; slept two these days.  Glossy wood and brass trim and had everything a person would need in miniature but for the bed.  No king size, but a double fit neatly.  

Dad checked out the galley.  Toward the bow, I found the head, the berth covered with a deep magenta spread, bright blue blanket and a photo of a boy on the nightstand.  PIcked it up; the boy looked around twelve, jumping onto the stern with a big smile wearing a white sailor’s cap–a Dixie cup.  

“Hey, I used to have one of those caps.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Dad stood behind me, took the photo.  “That’s about how old you were when you told me you were queer.  Almost cried, I felt so lucky.”

“Lucky?”  Dad’s arms encircled me.  

“I never expected I’d have a son, and never one who would be so much like me.  I wanted to love you more deeply than other men love their sons.  When you went into social services, thought I’d never be able to tell you… you’d report me or something.”

Warmth of the closed cabin, soft light from the sun through the portholes, Dad embraced and turned me.  “I told your mom I was working late; I was at the park with the boys selling blow jobs.  Never enough.  I wanted the ultimate intimacy with you.  I wanted to fill you until you cried with pleasure and called me Daddy.”

Pulled me hard against him, kissed me deeply.  The smell of him; like me.  The feel of him; like me, the erection rubbing mine.  Ultimate intimacy.  

Our clothes fell around our ankles a few moments later; he stood back and looked at me naked.  “Gorgeous.”  

* * *

French words were tattooed on his shaved groin.  Dad’s tanned skin with a heavy V-shaped swath of white, bushy hair–erotic.  Arousing.

His arms grabbed my soldiers and he faced me.  With one foot, he went behind my ankle and pulled it forward; I fell back on the bed.  He pulled my hips near the side of the bed, placing my ankles on his shoulders.  “Look at me.”

My mind coursed back through the years to the time when I was a boy, looking to him for comfort; direction; I needed him then, and wanted his conducting me to ultimate intimacy now.  

Years of ethics training and practice vaporized–this was wrong and felt so natural.

He aimed his leaking rod at my hole, just barely touching; my cheeks held it in place.  His hands rubbed along my sides to my pecs; fingers pinched my nipples.  I gasped.  “Keep your eyes on me.”

I did.  Listened as he explained  how he’d loved me as a baby, a toddler; how he’d watched me grow, teaching me how to shower, how to dress for school.  Softly whispered words redefined the gentle touches I remembered.  Brushing my hair, kisses as he strapped me in the car… .  All his adoration; his heart repressed his instincts, his perversions–he worshiped me from a distant place behind his heterosexuality.  “You were always mine.”

His wide hands gripped my waist, he looked down once.  Took a deep breath, looked into my eyes, “I need you.”  

Hard shove through his pre.  

In.  Stop. “Look at me.”

We were where we both wanted to be.  Frantic, deceptive years were the arcs he’d ridden alongside Doug, all the misunderstandings dropped away as his rod began finding deeper places to stroke, to caress inside me, “I’ve waited so long….”  He began pumping harder, faster, keeping his eyes on mine.  “You’ll never have any idea how much I love you.”  

His tears fell on my straining dick.  I grabbed my shaft, aroused to the point I was out of my own body, mixing his tears and my pre on my shaft.  

Faster.

“Look at me.”  His body trembled, keeping a frantic pace that jolted everything through my torso.  He was ready; I tensed my ass around his slippery piston.  Gripped hard–harder.

He growled.  

“Daddy.”  Balls tightened, suddenly, rush of cum, ultimate release started.  Felt the tense push–it seemed to start in my solar plexus, ran up my shaft, out–chest, face.   

Kept my eyes on his, and his expression changed to wonder as his hands gripped me harder, keeping my hole pressed hard against the stubble of his groin.  His hips moved to the sides a little, then I felt it.  Heard the squishing, squelching.  Hot fluids dripped to my tailbone.  

Pulled his weakening rod out and stuck both his thumbs inside me, stretching me wider.  Felt his fingers entering my ass to fist, his knuckles.  

“Not now.”  Small cabin was hot, we were sweating, dripping, air was heavy with our sex.  Grabbed his ears, pulled his face close and kissed him till we  caught our breaths.  

Footsteps on the stern; the boat swayed.  Alvarez came to the door of the cabin.  Alvarez was an older man with the boy from the photo.  

Alvarez looked at us, smiled.  “We’ll be in the cafe.”  

As they left the boy asked Alvarez who the men were.

“Lovers, like us.”