daddybear54

Chapter 3 Change of Command George and Kiru remained together for another two years in the Carmelita, linked in a rock-solid relationship which was a marriage in all but name. During that time, the ship’s first mate, Seddon, died unexpectedly, falling overboard and drowning during a seizure. Kiru appointed George as the interim first mate, pending their return to Kingston. There, the business manager confirmed the appointment. When Ernest returned from his four-year sojourn in England, he simply smiled at the sight. It was perhaps forgivable that he looked a bit smug at having guessed correctly what was going to happen behind his back. Both of the pair had often had moments of unhappiness and even bleak despair because of the emotional holes in their lives, and Edward was actually thrilled to see that these darker moments had all but vanished. His strongest captain and his son and successor had helped to complete each other in so many ways – and it was this completeness that really put the smile on Edward’s face. But he had no time to sit still and enjoy his success. Shortly after his return from England, his flagship, Ernestine V, made port in Kingston under the command of her first mate from the northern fjords, Torvald Ericsson. From him, Edward learned that Captain Worrickton had taken early retirement – wrapped in a sailcloth. He had been killed in a duel with a competing slave ship captain in one of the river mouths on the Gulf of Guinea. His rival had offed him by a thrust with the sword which went cleanly through his heart. The crew had brought the body aboard the ship, sailed out into the ocean, and buried him at sea in the traditional manner. All this had, of course, happened some months previously, and Ericsson had been forced to assume command for the remainder of the voyage to San Juan, and then at last back to home port in Kingston. Edward had planned to take command of Egeria as a stopgap, but now realized that he was going to have to return to sea in one of the bigger ships. Since the older captain of the Euphemia had retired for health reasons, he decided to shift the captain of Egeria to the Ernestine V, and take command of Euphemia himself. This meant that Egeria would need a new captain – and that left him with only one other person who could conceivably assume the commanding role. He hated to do it, but it was time – and it had to happen. Edward called in his son. “George, I assume you know that we have a problem – a shortage of competent officers. Because of what happened, I’m going to have to go back to sea in command of Euphemia. I’ve looked around a bit in Kingston, and I haven’t found anyone who’s available that I’d be willing to trust with one of my ships. So, it’s a problem. I’ve shifted Captain Blackstone to Ernestine V, I’m going to assume command of Euphemia, and now I can only think of one person already in the company who might possibly be up to the commanding role for Egeria. It’s fair enough to call this the junior command of the company, since she’s the smallest ship and serves the most local ports in Grand Cayman, Hispaniola, and the Bahamas as well as Jamaica itself.” George knew that this conversation was of the kind that he and his father would be having more often in future, as he had to become more involved in the workings of the company. “Who did you have in mind, sir?” Edward hesitated for just a moment. “I’m looking at him right now.” Edward was pleased to see that George didn’t flinch right away. His eyes showed that his mind was racing, adding up all the pluses and minuses, the challenges and the consequences of this promotion his father wanted to give him. Edward could see the exact moment when George’s thoughts landed on the reality that he and Kiru would have to be split up. It was only then that his face fell – and he began to look uncertain. “What is it, George?” “It’s hard to explain, sir.” “Let me help you out with that. It’s Kiru. You’re in love with him. You love him just as much as he loves you, and both of you want nothing more than to be together.” George’s jaw had dropped. When he finally recovered his composure, he asked one question: “How did you guess?” Edward smiled, a smile that showed more compassion than George had ever seen in his father’s expression before. “George, I didn’t even have to guess. It obvious to the eye as soon as anyone sees the two of you together. There are so many little things – the way you stand closer to each other than men usually do, the way you give each other little touches on the arm or shoulder, the way you turn and look at each other from time to time, the way you finish each other’s sentences….” George cut in. “Are you angry, Father?” Edward laughed. “Far from it. It’s the best thing that could have happened, for both of you.” “Then why are you going to break us up?” But George already knew the answer, even before Edward spoke in reply. “It’s not because I want to, believe me. But there’s a basic rule you’re about to learn the hard way. It’s summed up in three words: Business Before Pleasure. The simple truth is that Kiru has done his job all too well, training you to such a pitch of skill that you and he are both essential to the Treston business as captains. I wish it weren’t so, but I need both of you to lead crews on two of the ships, and that’s all there is.” “I know, sir.” George was still monumentally unhappy, but he could see the point even before his father finished explaining it to him. Business was a hard taskmaster, and that was all that could be said. “But I can give you a small consolation. Both Carmelita and Egeria are due for docking and careening. I’ve arranged for the work to be done at Robertson’s shipyards. You and Kiru can certainly feel free to spend some time together ashore while the ships are being repaired.” Edward went even further than his words suggested. He rented a house in Kingston so that his son and Kiru could have some privacy during the time their ships were taking turns at the shipyard. At the same time, he left some pretty strongly worded “suggestions” for George. Kiru laughed when he read them, and smacked George’s bare butt in the morning as he said, “Come on, Captain, time to get moving and start to learn your new job!” Kiru now helped George to navigate the challenges of preparing a ship for sea – the ins and outs of provisioning, of topping up the armaments and the magazine, of onboarding and stowing the cargo, and most of all, of running down and signing up a quality crew. Quantity was not an issue. The brothels and taverns of Kingston were filled to overflowing with experienced sailors. The trick was, as Kiru explained it, to find the right men. “You don’t want a crew made up of experienced drunkards, George. This is where you learn to see under the skin, to decide quickly whether the man you’re meeting for the first time is going to be good crew or trouble. And then you learn to make snap decisions.” “I’m going to make a mess of this.” “Probably you will, George. That’s normal, in a first command. The important thing is not to think of it as a mess – think of it as a lesson learned, so you won’t make a mess the same way again. And then, next time, do better.” In a few days, George had assembled a big enough scratch crew to take Egeria to sea for trials when her repairs were completed. As first mate, he had his contemporary, Roger. This healthy, well-formed young man had been Captain Edward’s main squeeze on his last voyage, but he had also proved himself thoroughly as a sailor and a leader. George was, as it happened, completely ignorant of Roger’s history with his father. All he cared about at this stage was having a competent second-in-command, and he’d achieved that. Busy as they were in daytime, George and Kiru managed to spend all of their evening hours together. Their respective crews knew what the score was, or at least that their two captains were living together, but it’s doubtful if many of them ever sensed just how deep the still waters were running beneath their leaders’ business-like outward appearance. They made love together every night, anxious to build up a store of memories against the time when they must be separated. One night, Kiru would take George and give him another one of his signature mind-blowing fucks. The next night, it would be George’s turn to return the favour. While his cock wasn’t as sensational, that didn’t matter at all. The two men were now coming together much more for the emotional sensations than for the physical act. The time of their parting came. George’s ship, Egeria, was ready for sea first, the bottom newly coated with sealant tar and copper, the upper works bright with new paint and gold lead, the figurehead of Egeria herself newly cleaned and embellished, and the crew all in place. George awoke early that day. He was due to sail with the morning tide, and the ebb was due to begin at about nine-thirty. Between excitement and trepidation, George was wide awake at five o’clock and unable to get back to sleep. He studied the sleeping form of Kiru next to him as the early dawn light seeped into the room through the shutters. It was a sight which never failed to excite him. George lay there, stroking his cock gently as he studied this magnificent man, his lover. At last he could bear it no more. He bent down and began to suck on Kiru’s cock, encouraging it as it rapidly began to swell and harden. As he worked, he heard Kiru’s voice, “Well, I wondered when you were going to wake me up.” George laughed and pulled himself up and into Kiru’s arms. “This is it, then. I want you to give it to me one more time, before I have to go.” Kiru rose magnificently to the occasion. George’s hole, now thoroughly accustomed to his massive erection, welcomed him in. The two of them, locked together, moving in unison, became as one yet again. George’s rhythm of contracting his well-trained muscles milked Kiru’s cock in perfect time with his slow yet mighty thrusts. Their arms locked around each other’s bodies, the two of them took each other slowly but irresistibly right up to the moment when Kiru hammered suddenly, fiercely downwards into George’s body and spewed his usual torrent of man juice into his younger partner’s body. After they’d finished, they lay together in the dawn quiet, caressing and kissing each other. And then it was time. They got up out of bed, washed and dressed, and had a last goodbye at the door, with a final deep, heartbreaking kiss. George took up his kitbag and swung it onto his shoulder, and then walked away down the steps and along the street to the landing where he could hire a boat to take him out to Egeria as she rode easily at anchor. He didn’t turn and look back, if only so that he wouldn’t burst into tears in public. Kiru went and stood by the window, watching through his telescope. He didn’t move from his post as the boat reached the ship, as George swung himself and his gear on board, and as the topsails blossomed. He continued watching as Egeria hoisted the anchor, gathered way, and swung easily around to head down through the channel, away from Kingston, away from headquarters, away from him. She passed by Port Royal Point and still Kiru stood and watched through his telescope. Only after the sails had dwindled into a dot beyond South Cay did Kiru finally lower the glass and turn back from the window, setting his face firmly toward his own day’s work, as he prepared Carmelita to return to the sea at the beginning of the next week. On board Egeria that evening, George and Roger had finished the work of sailing day and had a chance to relax and walk the deck together while talking over the plan for the voyage. On this trip, they were going first to Grand Cayman, then on to Belize, and a final call at Roatan before returning to Kingston. The two fell easily into a good working partnership as the ship sailed westwards. Despite a spell of calm weather which slowed them down, Egeria anchored off the shore of Grand Cayman on the third day out. George and Roger worked together as a team, directing the men as cargo to be offloaded was swayed up from the holds and dropped into the lighters alongside. Then came the outbound cargo, some for delivery to Roatan but the bulk of it going right around their route and back to Kingston. Similar routines followed at Belize and Roatan. Both captain and first mate had plenty of experience with planning and executing these offshore anchorage stops, and the crew worked well. As tradition dictated, the crew enjoyed a quick swim in the ocean after their work at Grand Cayman was done and before they sailed. It was a tricky channel through the reefs, so they would wait for daylight to sail. George stayed on board. The water looked tempting, but he wanted to set a tone as captain that he was on duty even when others were not. His father had never bothered to remain on his dignity at such times, but George was acutely conscious that almost all of his crew were older than he was (at the ripe old age of 22), and he refused to let crew discipline slacken until he felt more at ease in his role. He also remained on board in Belize. But when they reached their final port in Roatan, Roger had a talk with him. “Sir, that’s twice now that you haven’t joined in the ritual swim. I’ve heard the crew talking. They’re starting to think you’re too full of yourself, too pompous, too aristocratic to mingle with us lowly sailors. You should jump in today. I can keep watch on deck.” George thought for a moment; he could see the justice in what Roger was saying. “Thank you, Roger, I will do that.” Roger nodded to the boatswain, who blew his whistle and bellowed, “Crew on deck to jump in the ocean!” The eight sailors came tearing up the main hatchway, buck naked, shooting like rockets one by one over the side of the ship and into the water. “Coming, sir?” the last one called. George quickly handed off his telescope to Roger, whipped his clothes off, and dived neatly over the side of the ship to the accompaniment of whistles and hoots of merriment. They swam around in the water all together for a few minutes, laughing and joking, while Roger watched, smiling. He could see the danger of a split between captain and crew vanishing like a puff of smoke. But he could see more than that, and certainly liked what he saw. After about fifteen minutes, the crew all climbed aboard. George settled the issue of precedence before anyone began climbing by stating firmly, “I will go last.” That way, he also got a grandstand view of the parade of naked asses and cocks. The truth was, though, that George wasn’t really looking. In his head, he was mentally counting the days until the end of his fourth voyage, in about six weeks time. That was expected to be the next time that Egeria and Carmelita would both be in Kingston at the same time. At last he climbed over the side at the end of the parade, seized the towel which Roger held out for him, and rubbed himself dry, feeling happier than he had felt since coming aboard. He gave orders to secure the ship for sea, but then glanced at the horizon and the setting sun and added that they would sail at dawn. After eating dinner, he retired to his cabin. The boatswain, who was doubling as the second mate on this small ship, had the deck from eight to midnight. Roger would be on duty from midnight to four in the morning, and George would take the deck then, using those early hours to advantage to think through the hazards on the voyage back up to Kingston. At six o’clock, as the sky was lightening, Egeria weighed anchor again and set course for home, steering first around the southeastern end of the island and then heading off to the northeast. George remained on deck for much of the day. He always loved being at sea, feeling the motion of the ship beneath his feet, the tropical breeze on his face, watching with one eye always on the sails and the crew, while the other idly scanned for dolphins and flying fish – and perhaps a larger whale for variety. Being out on the open ocean had always given him a feeling of peace. He needed it. There was no one he could talk to, but the truth was that the separation from Kiru was weighing heavily on him. He did his best to remain approachable in all circumstances, but he felt more and more as if the one place he wanted to be was in his cabin, where he could hide his unhappiness from the eyes of his crew. He did his work, did it well and thoroughly, earned the respect of the sailors and of his first mate, but otherwise he kept very much to himself. Roger sensed the tension and the unhappiness causing it, and he understood, better than George would have guessed. He, too, was missing someone – his lady love ashore in Kingston. He had hoped to be given a captain’s position, as that would have given him the financial security to ask for her hand. Her father, himself an old sea dog, would settle for nothing less, and he knew it. For all that, Roger didn’t begrudge George the captain’s role. He was sharp enough to realize that George’s training was moving into its final stages. Not only that, but Roger liked the owner’s son and looked forward to many years of working for George when he took over from his father in the top office of the company. The next evening, as the ship continued to the northeast, Roger decided to take the bull by the horns. He buttonholed the captain who was on his way to his cabin again. “Is everything all right, sir?” George sighed and thought for a moment. “With the ship and the crew, yes. The captain, maybe not so much.” “I know how you feel because I feel the same way – and for the same reason. You need to work out some of your frustration. So do I. Maybe we could help each other out.” As he said that, Roger reached down and grasped his bulge, then leaned towards George and let the back of his hand brush George’s crotch. There was no chance of George mistaking his first mate’s meaning. Nor did he. As if for the first time, he noticed Roger’s broad shoulders and tight waist, and the growing bulge in the front of the first mate’s pants. His physical tension and frustration overrode any emotional scruples he might otherwise have felt. He opened the door of the cabin, pulling Roger in after him. Clothes flew at top speed in all directions. George couldn’t sense for a minute what role Roger might want to play, but since his muscled ass was just as attractive as his thick tool, George would be prepared to do it any way he wanted. But then Roger sent a clear signal, pulling George close to him, grinding their crotches together as he stretched his arms down George’s back to begin playing with his captain’s ass. In just another moment he had his index finger prying into George’s crack, seeking the tight button which he would undo to get into the captain’s tight hole. As he poked and prodded, the hole suddenly took on a life of its own, opening up and letting Roger’s finger in, then clamping down around that finger and trying to suck it further inside. “Ohhh… nice….” Roger’s voice came out in a low purr, feeling George’s ass opening to him, begging Roger to fuck him deep and hard. “You like this, George? You like my finger inside you? You want to feel my big cock in there?” “Yeahhhh.” The low, hot-breathed sound hit Roger’s ears like a flatiron, demanding to be taken and used and filled with cock and sperm. With that, Roger pulled away. “Get on your face,” he snapped. George spun around and knelt on the cot, head down and ass thrust up. Roger dropped onto his knees on the deck, forcing his face into the deep crevice between George’s firm, round cheeks. His tongue was already out, probing, seeking, digging into the mounds to find the gate to George’s body, the tight hole where Roger could have his way, feeling this beautiful young man’s deepest and most personal inner sanctum. George kept moaning in delight as Roger’s tongue teased his body into a ferment. He could happily have let Roger keep eating him all the way to the finish line. But Roger had other ideas. He was a man on a mission, and he was going to plunder his captain’s hole, wasting no time about it. He stood up, spat in his hand, wiped it all over his rigid dick, then placed the head right against George’s hole. “Get ready.” George took a deep breath and then bit down hard, swallowing the scream as Roger gave his tool a mighty shove, forcing the whole shaft inside George’s ass in one quick thrust. Nor did he stop there. He fucked George with power and speed, plunging in and out repeatedly. He wasn’t gentle, and he knew from George’s reaction that he didn’t have to be. George kept reaching back, grabbing at his thighs, pulling him in harder and harder on each stroke. Roger began slapping at the sides of George’s butt, the repeated smacks from his hands punctuating the slapping sounds as his thighs beat out a fucking tattoo on George’s firm round cheeks. George was crying out now, a repeated refrain of “Yes… yes… yes…” as Roger pounded deep into him. His hole was grabbing at Roger’s dick, urging the first mate to work it even harder. But then Roger’s cock cast the deciding vote, suddenly swelling even larger and then spitting huge globs of his sperm deep inside his captain’s ass. Roger breathed deeply, snatching at the air as he came down slowly from his explosion. But George hadn’t peaked yet. He urged Roger to keep driving it into him, and after a brief pause to catch his breath, Roger obliged. The second round lasted even longer than the first one, but Roger was more than equal to the task, plundering his captain’s body even deeper and harder than before. He now reached around and grabbed George’s swollen member, stroking it firmly as he drove his own farther and farther inside. And then it happened. George gasped aloud, and his cock spasmed in Roger’s hand, spraying his own sperm across the cot. The spasms grasping at Roger’s tool brought him back up to the brink, and with a loud grunt he pumped another load of his juices into George’s no longer tight hole. At last he withdrew slowly, and flopped down onto the cot beside George, who obligingly shifted over to make room for him. “You enjoyed that.” George’s voice wasn’t accusing, just matter of fact. “Oh, yes. So did you – but I knew you would. You and Kiru are the talk of Kingston.” “What are they saying about us?” “Just that you’re seen as a married couple now, nothing much else.” “And you?” Roger thought for a moment – and then, for the first time ever, he answered such a question with complete honesty. “I really enjoyed it. Women or men, I like it all. It was a nice change of pace.” “Nothing more, Roger?” “What have you been hearing?” Roger’s tone carried an edge of worry. “Nothing at all, that’s why I’m asking.” “Well, George, when I said it was a change of pace, I wasn’t referring to being with a man instead of a woman. What I really meant was that it was a change to be giving it to the captain instead of getting it from him.” George pondered that for a moment and then suddenly his eyes opened wide. Roger laughed. “That’s right, George. You’re not the first ship’s captain I’ve done it with. And he was really good – excellent cock-sucker and a great fucker.” George was in absolute shock. Why it had never occurred to him that he and his father had this experience in common, he couldn’t even guess. But the revelation that his father, too, enjoyed fucking male ass and sucking cock had completely overwhelmed his mind. Roger got up to get dressed, then leaned down to kiss George goodnight. “Hope you’ll sleep better now, captain. I know I will.” He slung his coat over his shoulder and left the cabin with a jaunty wave. George rolled over and quickly fell asleep, filled and satisfied. And tomorrow, they would be back in Kingston. The next voyage saw the Egeria calling at Montego Bay, Nassau, Grand Turk, and Providenciales before returning to Kingston. The two trips after that added one or two more stops to these, Port Antonio and Cap-Haitien being among the occasional calls, but the basic pattern was set and continued on the usual round with each voyage lasting 10-12 days. By now, the crew had welded together into a tight-bonded unit, doing all the regular tasks with complete efficiency and minimal wasted time. George wouldn’t have taken the credit to himself, but he had exercised excellent judgement in picking his team. Of course, his positive frame of mind owed a great deal to the occasional visits from Roger. The first mate’s energetic fucking served to keep him from curling up into a ball of misery when he was off duty. At least twice on every voyage, Roger would plant his rigid dick deep inside George’s ass and pound him deep and hard until he exploded inside. George didn’t just ask for it; he demanded it. “Hurt me, damn your eyes, hurt me! Rip me wide open! I want to feel you in there!!!” He couldn’t have explained this sudden urge for rough, hard, painful ecstasy if he were asked. It just seemed like the right way for him to relate to his first mate, to still be in charge even while Roger was taking charge of him. At last the day came when Egeria came sailing up the channel into Kingston for the fourth time since George had taken her on his first voyage as her captain, six weeks earlier. As chance would have it, Roger was in command – but George was also on deck, looking around at the familiar surroundings, surveying the ships docked and anchored, and watching Roger’s handling of the entire arrival process. And it was Roger, thanks to his telescope, who was first to spot the familiar profile of Carmelita’s distinctive rigging. “Sir, Carmelita is here already – two points to starboard, behind Port Royal Point.” “Ah, yes, there she is.” Roger could tell that George was keeping his feelings on a tight leash, but he felt sure that inwardly his captain’s heart was singing for joy. And so indeed it was – but only for a moment, as George kept staring at the distant masts.. “Roger, what’s that flag flown in her rigging. A signal?” Roger looked through the glass. “Sir, it’s….” His voice died away as the meaning of what he was seeing dawned on him. “Spit it out, man.” “It’s the Union Flag, sir, but she’s flying it at half mast.” George’s heart fell with a sickening thud. Anticipating joy and love, he now had to prepare himself for loss and sorrow instead. Egeria moved farther into the harbour, around closer to Carmelita where there was space for her to anchor, not far offshore from the Treston warehouses. Roger took the ship through the rest of the arrival manoeuvres, timing the dropping of the anchor and getting in of the sails to perfection. Just as Stubbs, the boatswain, announced that the crew could stand down while the anchor watch was set, Roger and Stubbs spotted the boat at the same moment. “Sir, Carmelita is sending a boat to us.” “Thank you, Stubbs.” George was mentally bracing himself. As the boat drew closer, though, he spotted the imposing figure and coal-black skin of the man he loved, and he felt a quick rush of relief. But still, there was that half-lowered flag. The boat drew alongside, and Kiru swung himself up the main chains and onto the deck. George looked at the bleak expression on Kiru’s face and felt his heart sinking again. This could mean only one thing, the only other thing which he would dread to hear. George braced himself anew. “Captain, I bring grave news to you. Your father has died.” George forced himself to hold his rigidly erect posture and preserve his calm face. “How did it happen?” “He fell ill of the yellow fever, and it carried him off three days ago, just as Euphemia was sailing into Kingston harbour. I am so sorry for your loss. The manager is waiting for you ashore at the pier. He will come out to you as soon as you are ready to receive him.” With that speech, George knew that his apprenticeship had ended. He turned to Roger, whose solemn face showed that he understood exactly what a momentous event this was. “Send the boat to the pier for Mr. Braydon, if you please, Roger.” Kiru, returning to his own ship, heard the twitter of the boatswain’s pipe from Egeria, saw the boat rowing away towards the pier, marked the slow descent of the ship’s flag to half mast. He’d been impressed by George’s calm demeanour in the face of such unhappy news. Kiru knew perfectly well that George would now be expected to step forward and take on the ownership and control of the entire company. Like his father, he would certainly go to sea again, but business affairs would increasingly claim his time. Kiru knew how badly George would need the calm and peace that only he could give at this time. It wasn’t the homecoming either of them had hoped for and anticipated, not at all, but it had to be faced. And if George could face it and not flinch, then so could he.

Chapter 2 Growing Up at Sea When George was thirteen years old, Edward made a long-planned change to the company’s overall business operations. He commissioned one of the leading builders in Kingston to construct a new addition to his little fleet. This order brought about the launching of the Ernestine V, the vessel which became his new flagship. The name was an obvious choice, since the older and slower Ernestine IV had met a sad end on an uncharted coral reef – a common hazard. The new build was the fastest and best-armed ship in the family’s history – a basic necessity for the latest trade opportunity which he intended to pursue. Edward Treston himself captained the new vessel for her first two working voyages. George was on board and learning every step of the way. There was a lot to learn. Each stage of the ten-month voyage had its own distinctive cargoes with special rules for care and handling. The outbound leg from Kingston saw the Ernestine V loaded with casks of sugar, molasses, and rum, and with expensive spices from Grenada and St. Vincent. As well, there was a lively trade in coffee from Colombia and silver from Bolivia. These last two products were supposed to be royal monopolies of His Most Catholic Majesty, the King of Spain, but somehow a certain amount always managed to vanish from the official caravans and the fleets of the Spanish treasure galleons, only to reappear later in the cargo holds of the Ernestine V. Some of these expensive and highly profitable cargoes were landed in North American ports such as Charleston or Boston, but the bulk of the cargo always continued on across the Atlantic. By tradition, the Ernestine V docked in the company’s birthplace port of Bristol, offloading and selling the luxury goods for generous profits. A portion of those profits went to purchase various kinds of trade goods which would be of value at the next port of call. Business concluded, the ship was reprovisioned and then set sail for West Africa. In one of the river estuaries of the Gulf of Guinea, along the so-called Gold Coast or Ivory Coast, the ship would anchor, and Edward would set up negotiations, doling out the various items purchased in England in exchange for hundreds of bewildered young men and women linked together by chains and ankle irons. Once these were herded aboard and arranged, lying on their sides in tightly-packed rows in the empty open spaces of the slave deck, the ship sailed again, bound for San Juan or Santo Domingo, the sites of the two most profitable slave markets in the company’s home region. The human cargo was offloaded and auctioned in the markets at an enormous profit, and the Ernestine V then made a brief passage to Kingston to purchase more of the assorted luxury products which commanded such generous prices in England. Throughout this multi-leg itinerary, the Ernestine V’s crew had numerous opportunities to display their prowess with loading, aiming, and firing the vessel’s numerous guns. Some of the firing was done purely for target practice, but each leg of the trip brought the possibility of armed encounters with pirates, enemy warships, or jealous rival slavers. This last group quickly learned to cut the Ernestine V a wide berth and detour around her at a safe distance. Edward Treston had equipped his pride and joy with the latest and most accurate cannons for long range work, making her as dangerous as a porcupine would be if it actually could, as rumour had it, throw or shoot its quills at an enemy. After spending nearly two years commanding those two shakedown voyages, Edward turned over command of the Ernestine V to one of his senior captains. A certain cold-blooded disregard for others being a useful accessory for a slave trader, his long-time associate, Captain Worrickton, fitted the role to a “T”. Edward Treston used this interval of time ashore to school his son in the business side of another new venture in the company’s affairs. Edward then took up the position of captain of his other new ship, the Carmelita, a ship designed from the outset with a shallow draught which enabled her to venture close inshore in the coastal waters of the Spanish Main for the dangerous work of acquiring contraband coffee, gemstones, and silver, among other things. Voyages on the Carmelita were a useful way to introduce George to the fine arts of bribery, smuggling, spying, and double-crossing, all essential knowledge as applied to this kind of clandestine and risky activity. This training led George to grow much more adventurous, entering his teen years with a decided taste for risky business and a devil-may-care attitude towards personal risks and the legal powers that be. The work was risky, without a doubt. His Most Catholic Majesty’s naval ships were perfectly capable of blowing the Carmelita out of the water if the Treston ship were caught at its work, and they would not hesitate to do so – in theory, at least. But Captain Edward knew the best points of sailing of all the Spanish ships in the Caribbean, certainly far better than their captains knew or understood the capabilities of the Treston ships. He also commanded superior intelligence networks of the sort best developed by distributing ample quantities of Spanish gold dollars – always under the table, naturally. Evading the clumsy vessels and lackadaisical crews of His Most Catholic Majesty’s navy was simplicity itself compared to passing out bribes which were substantial and desirable enough to keep the trade channels open. It was on the Carmelita that young George first encountered in person the third and by far the most significant influence in his life. Kiru had begun life in West Africa, before being scooped up by one of the frequent raids which kept the visiting slave ships well-supplied with cargo. He had been purchased to serve as one of the family slaves. Kiru had been taught to read and to write by an English missionary in his home community on the Gold Coast, and he’d developed a most unusual taste compared to many of the slaves – he was a voracious reader of books. Not just poetry, either – his favourite reading included books of scientific information and history from all parts of the world, areas which had been recognized and studied by English authors, and he soon surpassed almost all of his shipmates in literacy and in knowledge of all kinds. George’s father, who used everyone’s skills whenever he could, was mightily impressed by Kiru’s appetite for knowledge, and his cultivated speech which sounded almost as if he had been educated in England. He decided to teach Kiru some basic business concepts, and the results were rewarding indeed. Recognizing Kiru’s physical strength and agility, his sharp mind, his impressive knowledge base, and his undoubted shrewd grasp of the business, Edward liberated him from slavery and hired him as an apprentice seaman on the Eugenia. Within two years, Kiru had developed such a grasp of the techniques of sailing, and of leadership responsibility, that Captain Treston had promoted him to second mate. It was only one of many things George’s father did that would have raised eyebrows – and hackles – in the family’s old home in England. Kiru’s status raised enough hackles as it was, even in free and easy Kingston. When the Ernestine V was introduced into service, Kiru had balked at the invitation of transferring to her to serve as first mate alongside Captain Treston. Versatile he might be, but Kiru bluntly refused to play any role at all in the slave trade. He exchanged some harsh words with Edward on the subject, and he threw down the gauntlet by telling his boss to go ahead and fire him if that’s what he wanted. That was not what Edward Treston wanted at all, and Kiru knew it perfectly well. At last, Edward saw that in this one area he was not going to get his way, and he didn’t want to lose one of the best men in his entire company. His solution was to take the Eugenia’s first mate into the Ernestine V, leaving Kiru on the Eugenia as first mate until his other new ship, the Carmelita, should be ready, two years later. George first sailed on the Carmelita at the age of fifteen, and he simply couldn’t take his eyes off Kiru. Right away, the second-in-command role was something no other English ship’s captain had ever dreamed of handing over to an African. Then there was Kiru’s coal-black skin, which gave him a huge advantage over most of the crew in coping with the blazing Caribbean sunshine. Equally eye-catching to George, though, was Kiru’s massive muscular body, large dangling manhood, and big round balls, which were all on display whenever they anchored. When the ship was in port and all the loading or unloading was done for the day, custom decreed that everyone would get some downtime to leap into the ocean and wash themselves clean. This was where George really couldn’t keep his eyes off Kiru. That sexual part of his education began two weeks into the voyage, on the night that ship was on passage from Port of Spain in Trinidad to Roatan Island in Honduras. Young George wandered down past the hatch that led down to the cargo hold and heard men’s voices grunting and groaning. He’d learned enough long since to understand that sailors on long sea voyages didn’t confine their leisure activity to dice or cards, nor to the women they could get their hands on in Kingston or at other ports of call. When he sneaked quietly down the ladder into the hold and looked around, George soon realized that the hot scene of his dreams was on the agenda this night. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could make out the pale white form of Samuel, the ship’s boatswain. He was bent face-down over a bale of dyed cloth from Trinidad, and Kiru was working hard, buried deep inside Samuel’s white-cheeked ass. George could feel his own cock getting hard, could feel it beginning to leak. But he didn’t move, hanging there by one hand and one foot on the ladder, staring incredulously as Samuel took the full length of that swollen, rigid tool over and over, the pumping motions getting faster and faster. His eyes opened wider and wider still as he watched Samuel’s ass getting stretched into a bigger gape with each stroke. Samuel was experienced in taking cock in his hole, but that massive black third arm was opening him up farther than even the blacksmith or the cooper in Kingston had ever managed, and the head was striking sparks out of him as it penetrated deep inside his channel with each powerful thrust. As the action got faster and faster, Samuel twisted and squirmed with great energy, as if he were trying to escape from Kiru’s onslaught, except that he was making certain that he got as much of the huge black stud’s fucker inside his body as possible. Now Kiru was grinding out words in his deep, rich bass voice. “Get ready, Samuel. I’m going to spend in you – fill you up with my man’s seed.” Samuel cried out, “Yes! Now!!!” Then he shuddered, his contracting loins spewing multiple squirts of his own sperm onto the bale of cloth as Kiru roared and erupted deep inside his body. The noise, and the explosions, went on and on. George wasn’t even conscious that he had let go of the ladder with his right hand and grasped his own manhood through his breeches. He snapped back to reality to find the cloth under his hand sopping wet, and to feel the hot sperm running down his legs. As Kiru slowed to a halt, George turned and fled. Kiru smiled to himself. He had seen the son of the boss staring at them from the ladder and drew a likely conclusion. In truth, Kiru was only confirming what he had already suspected. George staggered back to his hammock in a daze. He’d jerked off many times, watching the men of the crew getting it on, but he’d never been so swept up in the erotic fire of lust as he had on this night. His cock refused to go down. All he could think about was Kiru’s massive erection, as he imagined it sliding up inside his body. He kept handling his own dick until he had exploded twice more. Then, finally, he managed to calm down enough to clean himself off and fall asleep. Was it just a coincidence that Kiru came to find George the next day? “Your father, the captain, spoke to me, told me to teach you all I know – about the sea and ships. We’re going to start now.” So Kiru said, but George hoped that there was a double meaning in the words. Just the sound of Kiru’s dark, deep voice made the hair on George’s head quiver. Captain Edward had trained his son by a mixture of books and lectures. Kiru used more of a hands-on method, taking George all around the ship with him and showing him how different parts of the standing and running rigging did their jobs, how the various fittings along the decks and bulwarks allowed them to be rove or hauled, and demonstrating how the positions of the sails affected the ship’s behaviour, depending on the direction and speed of the wind. The times when Kiru wrapped his enormous arms around George’s much more slender body to show him exactly how and when to pull on a rope or adjust the wheel – well, those lessons set George quivering even more than the man’s voice. When they weren’t involved in the mechanics of working a ship under sail, Kiru told George endless stories about all the various ports of call to which he had sailed, and even harked back to his own younger days in Africa. As he talked, George realized more and more just why his father had freed and promoted Kiru, over the objections of his numerous peers in the shipping world. Kiru was plainly a master of his work, an expert of the kind that every ship needed ready at hand, not least because of the small size of the ship’s crew. It was an old chestnut for merchant sailors to cut off any complaints from the men of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy with the undeniable fact that the merchant ship had to make do with five men where the man o’war did the same job with fifty. Just how it was possible to navigate and manage a ship this size with a tiny crew, and how to get the best work out of the crew at all times, those were Kiru’s specialties. Kiru was also a different kind of man from Captain Edward in one very significant way. Where the captain snapped, snarled, barked, and fired insults at his men, Kiru was far more apt to urge, to invite, to treat the men as men and not as animated sail-pulling machines. This, even more than his skin colour, made him stand out like a sore thumb when they were in company with other ships. The captains based in Jamaica, to a man, believed that the harsh old school was the only way to run a ship. Kiru baffled them by getting results as good as, or better than, any of them without resorting to their old hard-edged style of command. His leadership quality often led to the Carmelita making all sail, weighing the anchor, and getting under way while others were still getting the crew into position for those manoeuvres. Young George was quick to notice the difference in those results, and to notice the difference in the mood and attitude of the crew when Kiru was leading them, versus when his father was in command. One day, he asked Kiru. “Sir, why do you not shout at the sailors as the captain does?” That was another thing that would have ground a great many gizzards, both ashore and afloat – the spectacle of the son of a white man addressing a black-skinned African man as “sir”. The thing was, Kiru was far more than just a black man, whether you looked at his undoubted breadth of knowledge, his skill at handling ships, or at one of his other and even more striking attributes. Addressing him as “Sir” came naturally to George, without even thinking about it, as he was still a very junior member of the crew and Kiru was second in command. George’s question hung in the air for a moment as Kiru turned and looked directly at him, his face solemn and serious to a greater degree than George could ever remember seeing. “It’s like this, George. When you’re chained to the slave deck for weeks, given nothing to eat, poked and prodded by strangers’ hands in the market, sold and bought like a bolt of cloth, seen how many get broken by the humiliation… let’s just say that it teaches you a thing or two. I treat the crew the way I wish someone had treated me. I got lucky – your father picked me out and gave me a life of my own. I hope to be the luck in a similar way for some of our sailors. Can’t be that if I harass and beat them the way I was beaten.” The more George thought about it, the more he sensed that Kiru was onto something, a secret that almost nobody in either the merchant fleets or the Navy would ever be able to see. He guessed, and as it turned out, guessed rightly that it wouldn’t be long before Kiru was given command of a ship of his own. It happened sooner even than George expected. His father decided to take some time to oversee the British arm of his operations and handed off management of the company’s work in Kingston to his business partner, Silas Braydon. More to the point, he passed on the command of the Carmelita to Kiru, who thus became the undoubted first African man ever to captain a British-designed and built sailing ship. If Kiru’s role as first mate had rubbed the rigid-minded members of the Kingston old guard the wrong way, seeing him standing proudly in the august place of Captain came near to causing them to burst into flames. When Edward asked George what he would like to do next, George shyly replied that he was happy to stay on board the Carmelita and continue learning the trade under Kiru’s direction. Edward’s face displayed an enigmatic smile upon hearing those words. He was no fool and had already guessed what it was that his son really wanted to learn from the fleet’s newest captain. Ever since that night when he had watched Kiru plowing deep into Samuel’s ass, George had been a silent eyewitness to a number of other encounters of a similar kind. Of course, whoever was Kiru’s target of the moment was of less interest to him; it was watching Kiru’s impressive physique at work that caught and held his eye. During his first voyage under Kiru’s command, George passed his sixteenth birthday – an event celebrated with great energy by the entire crew as the Carmelita lay at anchor in Port of Spain. Everyone knew or guessed by this time what it was that George wanted most of all, and they all guessed that he was going to get his wish that night. Later on, Kiru went off to do his final rounds of the day, seeing that all the remainder of the crew were settled in the foc’s’le, with only the two men of the anchor watch on deck. When the captain returned to his cabin, he was a little surprised to find George standing right outside the cabin door. “You looking for something, young George?” George did his best to give a lascivious smile as he groped the front of his breeches. Kiru smiled in return, and his smile was the real deal – horny as a young boy himself and hot as the fires of hell. He pressed his hand against the front of his own breeches, and the size of the lump made it plain that he had a serious lust for the young man. He opened the door, drew George in after him, then closed and bolted the door behind them. Gesturing to the open skylight next to them, he then pressed his finger to his lips and George nodded, quivering with excitement. He found it hard to contain his excitement as they undressed, seeing Kiru’s bulging muscles and swelling cock closer at hand than he’d ever seen them before. George gulped as Kiru reached out, took him by the hand, and placed George’s fingers right onto the massive black shaft of his tool. George knew what it was that Kiru wanted. He’d seen the captain getting that kind of help from others. George dropped, a little clumsily, onto his knees, and began to lick at the enormous head. Kiru showed him how to peel back the skin and release the tender head into the open air. As soon as George wrapped his lips around that head, Kiru shook in excitement from head to foot. He than placed his hands onto the back of George’s head, and steered him along the shaft, down to the base, and then back up to work on the head some more. Kiru needed to demonstrate the next part himself. He pulled away from George and lifted the young novice to his feet. Then Kiru knelt down and began to suck George’s cock, taking the lad’s head and shaft right into his mouth and sliding down until most of it was in his mouth and in his throat. He breathed loudly through his nose, showing George how to avoid choking. After a minute of this treatment, Kiru sensed that George was about to erupt, and he didn’t want that to happen – not yet. He wanted to feel George cumming when he was buried to the hilt inside that tender, virginal asshole. He murmured in George’s ear, “Now, you show me.” George again went to his knees and proved that in this, as in so much of seamanship, he was a quick learner. Wanting it so badly was a big part of it. George quickly mastered the trick of dropping his jaw and letting the manmeat slide through and into his throat as he breathed deeply through his nose. Kiru grasped the back of the boy’s head and began gently face-fucking him, his thick knob straining the back of the boy’s throat as he pumped it deeper and deeper at each stroke. He was getting his first taste of precum as he sucked, the juice mixing with his saliva into a heady cocktail in his mouth. George’s jaw was aching by this time, but he badly wanted to suck Kiru to completion, to feel the mighty bolts of man juice streaming out into his mouth and down his throat. But there was something else that he wanted even more. He pulled off of Kiru’s massive cock and stood up, still caressing it firmly as he turned around and rubbed his pert buttocks against the oozing head. Kiru leaned down and asked him, “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “You know it’s going to hurt. You ought to start with someone smaller.” “I’m sure. I want you to be my first.” “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, Kiru bent George over the cot and took a washcloth, soaking it with water from the pitcher, then washing down and wiping the boy’s ass. Once he’d cleaned George’s crack, he bent forwards and began to lick and tongue the mounds, then dug down in between them to find the tight hole and go to work on it. George moaned fiercely, but Kiru grabbed another cloth and reached up to shove it into his mouth then returned to his task. As he ate the boy’s hole with increasing energy, he quickly had George squirming in excitement, rising onto his toes in the desire to push more of himself back into Kiru’s aggressive tongue. Then Kiru introduced a finger into the action, keeping up his licking and kissing and sucking as he wormed the finger into George’s hole up to the second joint. By this time, George was breaking a sweat from the fury of his reactions to the treatment that Kiru’s tongue and finger were giving him. He had imagined the feeling of a thick slab of cock wrenching his hole open, but he’d never expected such overwhelming waves of ecstasy crashing through his entire body. We was so consumed in his lust that he didn’t even notice when Kiru began working some kind of lotion into his quivering hole. But then George felt the blunt head of his captain’s thick black cock pushing against his tight opening, and he instinctively seized up. Kiru wrapped his arms around George’s shaking body and placed his mouth right against George’s ear. “Breathe, George. Deep breaths. And relax. Just let your muscles go slack. Push out – and then relax. And keep breathing, deep.” He kept murmuring the words quietly, soothingly, a mantra of calm and release in the young man’s ear. And George heard him, took it in, gradually managed to relax his muscles, let his hole open, let the enormous intruder force an entry. All at once, the entire head was lodged firmly inside his sphincter. George wanted to cry out the pain, but the cloth was still there in his mouth, silencing his voice. He kept breathing, deep, harsh breaths, sucking air out of the sky, struggling to keep control of his body as the thick, black shaft forced its hard path inside his body. George wanted to scream from the pain, but even more he wanted to yell aloud to Kiru to push the rest of it into him. The want soon won the battle. Once he was over the shock of the initial entry, George managed to relax somehow, he couldn’t say how, and the huge plunderer slowly slid deeper and deeper inside him. It took another fifteen minutes of slow, cautious, movement, but finally the moment came. Kiru had managed to sink his entire massive tool into George’s virgin hole, the rim clenched around the very root, the huge shaft feeling to George like someone had inserted a new bone into him. It hurt him, it hurt like hell, but George didn’t complain or cry out. This was what he had wanted, all that he had wanted. This was the greatest dream of his young life, to have the entire manhood of this massive hunk of masculine power embedded deep inside his body. And he wanted more. Kiru could never remember afterwards how he had managed to hang on as long as he did. As it was, it seemed a miracle that he actually managed to delay his orgasm for three minutes after his hips had landed firmly against George’s sweet young ass. All he managed to do was to start moving slowly, drawing his giant rod a bit out, and then sliding back in, while George kept on moaning and hissing in total sexual abandon. But then time ran out. George lost control, and his harshly-stretched asshole struggled to contract as he exploded, spraying his cum across everything in reach as he experienced the wildest orgasm of his life. Those sudden, violent contractions did it for Kiru as well, and before he could even think of what to do, his cock was convulsing and pumping his seed deep inside the young ass of his junior crew member. In time, George’s ass forced the intruder out. The two of them lay, side by side, gasping for air after the strenuous climax of their mating. Kiru pulled the cloth out of George’s mouth and used it to mop up the stream of cum pouring slowly out of that no-longer-tight ass, as the hole refused to close up from the beating it had taken. Then he planted his bulging arms around George’s slender body and drew the boy into an embrace. Their mouths joined together as George, having just lost his virginity to the captain’s rock-solid tool, now experienced his first ever man-to-man kiss. And time stood still. “Happy Birthday, young George.” Kiru’s voice held a warmth which George had never heard before. His answer was equally warm, an incongruous contrast to the formulaic words: “Thank you, sir.” Within another week or so, George had abandoned his hammock in the tween decks and moved into the captain’s cabin. There was nothing really startling about this to the rest of the crew. The relationship between Kiru and George would have been impossible on a naval ship, but in this setting there was no particular negative vibe towards a senior officer sharing his quarters with a crew member. The attitude among merchant seamen at this distance from their homeland, in this as in so many matters, was tolerant, with a strong feeling of live and let live. Over the next two years, George’s training in seamanship moved forward at a great pace. So did his training in the fine arts and skills of man-to-man sex. Kiru was an incredible teacher in both of those subjects. George, for his part, thoroughly understood how fortunate he was to have such an amazing teacher. During these key years, Kiru had taught George just about everything there was to know during their nightly shared sessions in the captain’s cabin. George had experienced every position imaginable, learning about the hundred and one ways he could arouse his partner with fingers and tongue. Nor did Kiru do all the heavy lifting by any means. As a big, muscular man with a thick, long cock and heavy balls, it was normal that other men expected Kiru to take charge all the time, but the truth was that he enjoyed being on the receiving end too. As with taking Kiru’s cock inside his own ass, George had quickly begun to master the techniques of how to make Kiru feel good while enjoying the experience of fucking the captain’s ass in return. In time, his favourite position was to fuck Kiru in missionary, lying right down between the man’s massive muscular thighs and stroking and kissing Kiru as he drove his arrow-straight tool deep into the captain’s strong hole. Although Kiru worked George to the bone on deck and in the rigging during the daylight hours just as much as he did with all the rest of the crew, George held no resentment for that. After all, Kiru was just as unsparing with himself as he was with his sailors. Not for him the life of idle luxury, sitting on the quarterdeck and fanning himself with a palm leaf while the crew drove themselves into exhaustion. Some captains were known to behave that way, but Kiru was never one of them. He was a born leader, and he led from the front, rather than driving his men from behind. It was this leadership quality more than anything which had led George’s father to single him out and train him for an officer role. Now, Kiru was doing the same with George. He hadn’t even needed the explanation that Edward had given him to know that George was being prepared to take over the leadership of the company in his turn. At the moment, Kiru was George’s superior officer, but he knew full well that a day would come when he would be taking orders from George. That prospect didn’t bother him at all. What did begin to trouble Kiru was the realization that he was developing serious feelings of affection towards his employer’s son. It was hardly surprising. In a life stripped of all opportunities for family affection, George had become an emotional anchor for Kiru, a person who gave him positive support and a safe shelter from the cross-currents of life. In truth, Kiru had never been given the chance to develop any kind of positive relationship with another human being after he’d been brutally torn away from his home and his mother when he was still only ten years old, give or take a bit (he didn’t actually know for certain how old he was nor which day of the year was his birthday). Lying in bed, nestling up against George’s ass with his cock buried inside, or simply falling asleep with his arms wrapped around his younger lover – all of this was a heady emotional tonic for the former slave. It was a heady emotional tonic for George as well. His own life had been bleak since the tragic death of his mother, given the austere, even cold, emotional climate of his relationship with his father. George felt the affection flowing out to him from Kiru, and he returned it in full measure. By the time he had reached his eighteenth birthday, George had come to regard Kiru as his full partner, his husband, his lover – call it what you like. Perhaps, then, it was unsurprising that George’s eighteenth birthday should have ended the way it did. Since the rest of the crew really liked George, they went all out to throw a special party on the big day “to welcome the newest man joining the crew of the Carmelita!” There were little presents, most of them handmade knickknacks and such, and the cook even baked a cake generously flavoured with Barbados rum. The rum flowed freely that night, too, but George didn’t make a fool of himself. He’d long since found that he didn’t care all that much for the taste of liquor, and he’d learned how to sip slowly and cautiously while others guzzled heartily. As for Kiru, he knew perfectly well that danger could appear at any moment in any of a hundred unexpected ways. He, too, drank slowly and with caution, determined that no harm would come to his ship because of his carelessness. The party was a huge success all around, and George floated to bed on a cloud of personal exhilaration. And that was when he received the best gift of all. Kiru had fucked him very slowly and gently, remaining face to face with George in missionary throughout the entire act. Despite his size, and his muscular build, he could be very gentle when required and he was gentle now. He remained joined with George, mouth to mouth, hands to body, and cock to hole, through a solid hour of sexual ecstasy during which George came three times while Kiru pumped two big loads of his hot African sperm into George’s body. As they lay quietly, stroking each other in the afterglow of that intense peak experience, it was Kiru who said the magic words: “George, I love you.” And George, despite his youth, wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear that. This was the way it was, the way it had to be. It was the most natural thing in the world that Kiru should have said those words, and it was the most natural thing, too, that George’s next words, in return, would be, “I love you, Kiru.” Kiru would feel remorse later, knowing better than his younger lover that life would tear them apart from each other soon enough. George still lacked the maturity to know that there was, in the end, no such thing as a happy ending. Death lay in wait around many unexpected and dangerous corners in their adventurous world. In the emotional high of the moment, though, Kiru hadn’t been able to restrain himself from reaching out to grasp the happiness that was there for him to take, freely offered. Nor had he been able to resist the glowing happiness in George’s face when he had said the magic words back to Kiru in reply. And perhaps, he thought, George did understand, in his own way, that this happiness which they shared was for now – but not for all time.

Chapter 1: The Making of a Sailor It was dark down here inside the ship’s hull. No light could penetrate into the cargo hold in the night time. Dark, but not silent – the endless creaking of the ship’s wooden fabric and the masts, the rushing roar of the ocean’s waters on the outside of the hull, the sloshing of water in the bilges – the cargo hold was always a noisy place. By rights, Andrew should have been asleep in his cot. But he had an appointment down here which he was anxious to keep. Earlier in the day, he had cornered one of the apprentices, a handsome youth named Peter, and told him, “Meet me in the aft cargo hold at midnight.” Since he was the second mate, and Peter a rank beginner as one of two apprentices in the crew, Andrew had no fear that his orders would be disobeyed. The ship’s bell rang, pairs of strokes with a pause after each pair. Four pairs. Eight bells. “Where in hell is Peter?” Andrew wasn’t aware that he had actually muttered the words aloud. “Here, sir,” another voice responded out of the darkness. Andrew peered in that direction and caught a glimpse of a pale form coming towards him. As Peter drew nearer, Andrew was pleased to see that he had already taken off his shirt. “Good. You know why we’re here.” Peter nodded, and without further ado slipped out of his trousers and underclothes, exposing his lower body – the buttocks swelling in a tempting curve, the cock already lifted clear of his balls. Andrew did the same, gesturing wordlessly to his erect manhood. Peter dropped to his knees with all the grace of his eighteen years and went right to work on Andrew’s tool. With almost no delay, he managed to get the whole thing deep into his throat. Andrew smiled between his moans of pleasure. An experienced young man, not a rank beginner who had to be shown what to do at every step of the process. Andrew was prepared to train newcomers, whether to sail the ship or to suck and get fucked, but he much preferred to work with more experienced young men. Peter was experienced – no doubt about that. His talented mouth and throat worked wonders on Andrew, and before long he simply had to pull his cock out. He didn’t want this to end until he had sampled the young apprentice’s enticing ass. He pulled Peter to his feet and spun him around. Peter knew exactly what was intended. This man wanted to get right into his hole with no waste of time and get his rocks off as fast as possible. Well, that was fun enough in a way – but he was hoping he could entice the hunky second mate into staying a bit longer. Perhaps he could even flip the action if he played his cards right. He’d certainly noticed Andrew’s hand straying to play with his own ass as Peter sucked him. Peter planted his hands against the frames of the hull, leaning forward and thrusting his sweet round ass cheeks out and up. Andrew’s hand landed there again, several times, with considerable force, before it slid into the crack and his fingers began playing with Peter’s hole. Andrew’s cock jutted up even harder and higher as he felt that squirming hole clenching at his fingers. It was time. He added some more spit to his hand, wiped it over the head and down the shaft, and then pushed the blunt tip of his cock up against Peter’s hole. Peter pushed back, opened up, and in no time Andrew had entered him stretching him open, and thrusting further and further inside. It took only moments until the second mate’s tool was completely embedded inside the apprentice’s welcoming ass. At once, Peter’s ass began squeezing and chewing on Andrew’s rampant cock, so much so that Andrew wasted no time before beginning to hump the apprentice. His pumping action picked up speed rapidly, and the air was filled with resonant smacks as his hips bounced repeatedly off Peter’s lush round ass cushions. Peter reached down with one hand to grasp his own cock, but Andrew smacked the hand away. “No! Don’t touch it. Save yourself!” Peter grinned at what he took to be the meaning hidden within those words. He flexed his muscles, working his tight hole around the second mate’s dick, squeezing it harder and harder. He wanted this man’s cum load inside his body. Suddenly, Andrew pulled away, and snarled at Peter, “Get on your back on the deck.” Peter obediently laid down quickly on the boards, rolling onto his back and lifting his legs into the air as Andrew dropped down beside him. Andrew got himself into position, planted his red, throbbing tool against the hole, and pushed his way inside again. Peter let out another loud moan, a moan not of pain but of satisfaction. Anyone could tell that this slim, young apprentice loved having a rock-hard man’s cock inside his body. Andrew resumed fucking, pushing down into Peter’s ass over and over. Peter stretched his arms out, wrapping them around Andrew and pulling him even closer. This was the kind of fucking Peter really liked – close in, face to face, arms holding his partner as close as possible. Andrew kept heaving his hips up and down, driving towards the moment when he could seed this boy’s cute young ass. Then Peter stretched his arms downwards, grasping Andrew’s ass firmly. The second mate had just time to think, Oh my stars, this boy’s got really long arms – and then Peter sank his long forefinger deep inside Andrew’s hole. He knew he was taking a risk. Doing something like this to a superior could get him thrown off the ship, figuratively – or even literally, and with all the sharks in the ocean around them, that would certainly prove fatal. But he had guessed and taken a chance. And his guess proved right. “Oh, my god, that feels so… keep doing it, boy!” Peter kept fingering Andrew, working around until he suddenly hit the magic spot. He’d found his own, quite by accident, when he was fooling around with his own ass one day. Then an older sailor had taught him that every man has one, and how to find it. And now, his long arm and slim finger had found Andrew’s spot for him. Peter rubbed the little lump two, three, four times, and then Andrew suddenly slammed in hard, seized right up, and held himself against Peter’s body as his cock erupted, spraying an enormous load of cream inside the boy’s taut, round ass. Peter cried aloud in delight as he felt the second mate’s warm sperm gushing into him. But he didn’t pull out his finger. He was still hoping. In a couple of minutes, Andrew’s breathing slowly diminished to normal as he regained stability after that enormous climax – and it was right about that time that he realized that Peter still had a finger buried in his butt, the sensation of that finger rubbing at his magic spot was still incredible, and (most of all) that he wanted to feel a dick inside his own body. “Did you spend yet, boy?” “Not yet, sir.” “Good. Get that rod of yours inside me and drive it in there until you’ve dropped all your seed into my hole.” “Yes, sir.” Peter squirmed out from under Andrew and pushed the second mate down to the deck. Andrew laid down on his face, spreading his legs apart and waiting for the invasion. He did not have long to wait. Peter was thrilled at the thought of plowing and seeding Andrew, and he couldn’t wait to start. In no time, he had Andrew’s ass lubricated with his spit, the hole quivering from the repeated invasions of his tongue, and had his cock in place, pushing against Andrew’s tight little hole. “Relax, dammit!” Normally, Peter would never have dreamed of using such language to the second mate. But he had the man under him, he was going to fuck the second mate’s furry butt, and he was expected to dominate, to subdue, to control, and to mark his man. Having invited him to switch roles, Andrew couldn’t very well complain at being ordered around. Not that he wanted to complain. Andrew had started out acting the role of the man in charge because that was what his position in the ship demanded, but the truth was that he actually enjoyed being dominated and controlled. And now he was going to get exactly what he wanted. And Peter gave it to him. The apprentice with the smooth body and the angelic face gave a mighty shove and buried his eight inches to the hilt inside Andrew’s butthole. Andrew yelled aloud, and Peter silenced him with a flat-handed slap. “You wanted it, you’re getting it, so shut your gob!” Andrew moaned loudly as Peter began pumping into him, but another vicious slap put a stop to that. Peter had learned much from all his previous experiences with being fucked by men, and he used it all, stirring his dick around inside Andrew’s guts, dragging it out, and then slamming back in on the exact angle that would hit the magic spot inside Andrew on each plunge. It was working. Andrew was getting more and more wound up as Peter drove into him, quickly approaching the point of no return again. Peter knew it too. It was plain that this strong, aggressive treatment was turning Andrew’s crank in a big way, and Peter knew that it was time to push the lordly second mate all the way to the wall. He abruptly speeded up, driving in and out of Andrew’s hole at top speed like a mad thing. Andrew cried aloud again as his cock spasmed, shooting another load of his sperm onto the deck under him. The sudden contractions of his tight hole did it for Peter, and in seconds he was slamming up against the second mate’s muscled cheeks, bursting the dam and erupting multiple shots of his white-hot sperm into the older man’s fuck tunnel. This time both of them took longer to recover. It said much for the enjoyment he’d taken from the experience that second mate Andrew actually turned over, embracing and kissing and caressing the boyish blond apprentice at some length. And then, abruptly, their cuddling reverie was broken by a loud moan not far off, a moan which was quickly followed by the sound of several wet splats against the deck. Peter sat up suddenly. “What was that?” Andrew muttered, “Must have been the captain’s boy. He’s always prowling around at night. Get your clothes on and get out of here.” “Yes, sir.” Both of them chuckled at the sudden pointed tone in Peter’s voice. Less than a minute later, the hold was quiet again – well, as quiet as it could ever get – apart from the solitary figure groping around in the darkness, until he found what he was looking for. His hand wiped up several globs of man cream off the deck, and he licked and sucked them clean, moaning in pleasure again at the taste. There followed some quick slapping sounds, and then another series of splats as he added a few extra shots onto the deck to join the ones the second mate and the blond apprentice had spewed there not long before. In the early morning sunlight, George Treston appeared on the quarterdeck of the ship, named Ernestine IV, looking out at the skies and estimating the weather with a seaman’s trained eye. He owed his position as an apprentice to his father. George’s father wasn’t merely the captain of the Ernestine IV. He owned this ship and three others, as well as dock facilities in Jamaica, Antigua, Barbados, and the Bahamas. The Treston company was a known and respected commercial presence throughout the British Caribbean Islands. George stood with his feet braced apart, swaying easily and naturally with the send of the vessel as it climbed and swooped over the waves on passage from Jamaica to Antigua. This in spite of the fact that he was barely fourteen years old and only on his second voyage. That is, it was his second voyage as a formal member of the crew with assigned duties. You could only call it the second time if you discounted the many earlier trips in which he had sailed as a boy, following his father everywhere above and below decks and learning the essentials of the trade – and of some other incidentals – by watching, listening, and remembering everything. As it happened, he was remembering the lively scene he had witnessed in the cargo hold the night before. The memory was making him grow hard yet again. George had been intrigued, not so much by the role of Andrew, the second mate, as by his fellow apprentice, the smooth-skinned, blue-eyed blond boy named Peter. He’d looked like a son of the gods when his clothes had come off, and George wanted to enjoy coupling with that beautiful body the same way that Andrew had done. Of course, getting a chance to be fucked by either Andrew or Peter wouldn’t be a bad thing either. George had seen it all but had yet to experience any of it – beyond the thrill of playing with himself. His attention shifted again, as a change in the wind called for the sails to be trimmed anew. George scurried to join the others at the halliards. Once the bustle of trimming settled down, he resumed his thoughts. The early growth of George’s seafaring knowledge and skills had owed much to his father’s insistent drumming of the essentials into his head at every turn as he grew up. It owed even more to the fact that trade between the multiple islands of the Caribbean, and between the islands and North America or England, had been the family business for several generations. The letter “IV” in the name of the company flagship, Ernestine IV, was proof of that, she being the fourth flagship of the Treston firm to bear that honoured name. Ernestine had in fact been the ship’s cat in his great-grandfather’s day, a more than dedicated mouser and ratter. The sailors in Ernestine’s time claimed that she was the most valuable member of the ship’s company. None of this was ever explained to outsiders. They were left to suppose that “Ernestine” had been the lady love of the company’s founder back in Bristol. Let them think that. It wasn’t something that George’s father, Edward Treston, had ever talked about, either, maintaining a resolute silence in the face of persistent questioning from George’s mother, an island woman whom his father called Esmeralda. George’s earliest voyage of all was the absolute height of foreshadowing, not to mention unorthodox. The boy set sail into the world of ships and the sea via the birth canal. His mother produced him after an extended labour aboard a small coastal vessel making a rough passage from Kingston around Jamaica to Montego Bay. She had informed her “husband” Edward that she wished to go to her mother’s people on the north shore of the island to birth her child, and to be cared for afterwards. Esmeralda was no fool. She knew perfectly well that Port Royal was full to the brim with highly competent gamblers, bootleggers, and whoremasters, but suffered from a distinct shortage of such feminine luxuries as trustworthy midwives. Edward had consented to her plan, albeit reluctantly, and in accordance with local tradition had given the captain of the coastal trading packet a substantial bribe, with the promise of as much more to come, once his wife was delivered safely and unharmed to her mother. After that farewell, he had himself set out on one of his regular trading voyages to San Juan. The treacherous waves accompanying George’s birth were triggered by the catastrophic 1692 earthquake which swept most of the boozy, riotous pirate city of Port Royal into the ocean, taking the headquarters of the family business with it. Edward’s timing for his voyage to Puerto Rico had been perfect, in the sense that he and his ship were unharmed although somewhat tossed about by the ensuing seismic waves. After returning to a wharf and warehouse which were missing in action from an acreage of land which was no longer to be seen, George’s father shrugged, wrote off his losses, and set to work to start over again. In the event, this actually meant setting up shop in a newer and bigger warehouse and wharf farther up the bay on the inland side of what remained of Port Royal Point, facing the site on the mainland which would henceforth be known as Kingston. In due course, Edward built up a fleet of four vessels. Once George had reached the age of eight, his father began taking him along on some of his trading trips around the Caribbean Sea and up the eastern coast of the Thirteen Colonies. Not so the longer voyages to and from England, which lasted for months at a stretch. Captain Edward needed to supervise his company’s affairs on the spot, and disappearing into the far reaches of the North Atlantic Ocean for months at a time was a task best left to his subordinates. Was George’s father actually married to his mother? That was something that George was never able to find out for certain. There had certainly been a ceremony in Port Royal, of a sort, presided over by a gentleman dressed in the robes of a Church of England divine. Edward George Treston and Esmeralda had sworn the oaths of a conventional marriage to each other and had honoured those hallowed oaths – at least in word, if not always in deed. But there was a catch. There was no formal certificate of marriage. Port Royal being the kind of city it was, the odds were pretty good that the presiding “clergyman” was actually a former priest of the Church of England who had been defrocked due to sinful excesses of gambling, drunkenness, whoring, you name it. The wedding, then, such as it was, likely lay well outside the bounds of the orthodox marriage vows. That, as matters developed, was certainly an omen. Like most men from Europe who found themselves in the islands, Edward Treston made no real pretence of being faithful to his wife. Esmeralda might have been the light of his eye, but there were others who drew his attention below the waist. Esmeralda knew this perfectly well, going to great efforts to try to flush any other women away and out of his life. Perhaps it was fortunate for both of them that she remained unaware that there were also men she should have driven off. Edward’s onboard adventures had begun when little Georgie, less than a year old, was still being cuddled and nursed at all hours of the day and night by his mother. Need it be explained that Edward was a seething mixture of frustration and physical discomfort by the time his ship sailed after a two-week break ashore? His mating organs nearly burst into flames on the spot when Hugh, the boatswain, introduced Sean to him, explaining that the previous apprentice had disappeared before he could be paid off. Sean had providentially been right there on the dock when he heard Hugh complaining that they needed that extra pair of hands and the young guy who had taken off would have to be replaced. Sean immediately stepped forward and offered himself, and after a few quick questions was brought aboard to sign the apprenticeship agreement. Watching as Hugh issued orders and the crew made sail and hoisted in the anchor, Edward was pleased to see that Sean listened and followed orders uncommonly well for a novice, not to mention the enticing sight of his buttocks rounding out the seat of his breeches. His upper body was soon on even better display as the tropical heat forced him to strip off his shirt. Edward could have sworn that Sean had caught his eye for a second and had then begun to twitch and clench his ass muscles in alluring enticement. When Sean came off watch duty at 8:00 that evening, Edward was waiting for him. “Sean!” “Yes, sir?” “When do you go on watch again?” “Not until 4:00 in the morning, sir.” “Good. I have a job for you to tackle. Come with me.” Edward led the way down to the stern of the ship, where he opened the door of the captain’s cabin. As soon as Sean saw the bed, his face broke into a hot grin. When Edward closed the door, Sean immediately stepped up, reached out, and palmed his crotch through his breeches. “Is this the job you had in mind, sir?” Edward’s quiet moan confirmed that Sean was on the right track. So did the roaring erection which bulged up inside his pants in no time flat. Edward quickly realized that Sean should already be rated as “Able Seaman” in at least this area of work. His new apprentice was far from inexperienced, and very soon a wet stain was growing on the front of the captain’s breeches. By this time, Edward had torn off his shirt, and he now stepped away to remove his breeches as quickly as possible, until he was standing in the cabin naked. Sean positively licked his lips in anticipation as he went down to his knees and began to lick on Edward’s rigid cock. The captain groaned aloud as the young but skilled apprentice went right to town on him. His hands buried themselves in the boy’s flaming red hair and pushed him repeatedly down onto his senior officer’s manmeat. Sean knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he was going to get results as a steady stream of sweet juice leaked out of that swollen dick and onto his taste buds. But even with that hint, he was startled at how soon the climax came. In barely two minutes, the captain began panting, “Oh… oh… oh… ohhhh…!” and then his muscles convulsed, and a thick blast of white cream exploded into Sean’s sucking mouth. Sean sucked and swallowed as fast as he could, but he was no match for the flood which backed up in his mouth and flowed down his chin. Edward grasped at the timber framing of the ship for support as his knees began to give out under him. Edward gasped for air as Sean swallowed the last of his load and then stood up in front of him. His bright green eyes locked with the captain’s dark brown eyes as Edward gradually recovered his normal poise. “Will that be all, sir?” The question sounded perfectly respectful, but as Sean asked it, his hand went again to the captain’s cock, giving it another squeeze. As he did so, he noted with pleasure that the tool in his hand showed no signs of softening. Nor was that surprising. “Not in the least.” Edward reached out, grasped Sean’s hand, and drew him close. He kissed the boy’s lips lightly at first, then much harder, as his hands reached around to grasp the young ass and draw him closer. Sean was loving being embraced so tightly by this impressive man, but he wanted to feel it closer still. He took one of Edward’s hands and guided them to start pulling his shirt up over his head and off. Edward drank in the sight of a taut young body, lightly dusted with freckles as he might have expected with a redhead, with the pert nipples poking out at him. He then lowered his hands, and began tugging the boy’s breeches down and off, exposing the lower half of his body to view. No argument was possible. Sean’s ass was a thing of beauty, and Edward couldn’t wait to enjoy it. He turned Sean around and stepped up behind him, rubbing his wet cock up and down in Sean’s crack as he worked his hands up and down the front, from the pec muscles to the cock and balls. Then it was Edward’s turn to drop down onto his knees and bury his face inside Sean’s deep crack, spreading the round hills of the youthful ass apart so he could drive his tongue right down and into the hole. Here, again, was the proof that Sean had done this before – and many times. Almost at once, his tight hole yielded and let Edward’s tongue slip inside him. The captain kept tongue-fucking the apprentice until Sean was moaning nonstop, murmuring, “I want it… I want it…” over and over. Edward stood up again, spat in his hand, spread it around the head of his tool, and then planted the bulbous tip against the hole and began to push. At once, the boy’s ass spread open, and his head slid right inside before the muscles snapped shut behind the rim. He then pushed on, slowly but steadily, as his shaft sank all the way inside this beautiful young hole. Sean was sighing and moaning quietly in his delight as this stalwart man took him all the way, fucking his hole right to the bottom, over and over. As the speed of the fuck increased, Sean braced himself against the massive oaken rib curving up along the cabin wall, straining to hang on as his captain used his ass, fucking him into a dazzling haze of erotic sensations. That firm, straight cock was bumping up against his button every time it drove in, and Sean knew he was going to cum soon. He tried to hang on, but in just another minute the captain was fucking the cum out of him – and he hadn’t even grabbed and stroked himself. “Awww… fuuuck…!” he cried aloud as the sperm rocketed up his shaft and spilled onto the deck in front of him. Despite the sudden clenching spasms from the muscles, the captain kept right on fucking him, harder and harder. In moments, Sean began cumming again, and then yet again. Edward kept right on driving into him as the waves of orgasm kept washing over him. The repeated muscle spasms gripping his cock started pulling Edward up to the brink, and then he erupted in multiple shots inside Sean’s clenching channel. Finally the cum stopped flowing, Edward stopped moving, Sean stopped cumming repeatedly, and the two of them slowly wound down from the most incredible climax either of them had ever experienced. When Sean’s ass forced Edward’s slowly shrinking dick out of the hole, it was followed by a tidal wave of his hot sperm. The semen flowed gently down Sean’s legs, even as Edward tried to lick it all up. Then he stood up, turned the dazed apprentice around, and kissed him deeply, using his tongue to share all that hot cream with his partner. Sean clung to him, partly in ecstasy, and partly to keep from falling over. That powerhouse fuck and endless orgasm had really worn him out. When Edward realized that Sean was struggling to stay on his feet, he picked the lad up and carried him in his arms over to the bed. He laid Sean down there, pushing him back against the bulkhead, and then lay down next to him, drawing his partner into his arms. They embraced and kissed gently. “Sean, that was amazing.” “Amazing doesn’t begin to describe it.” “Would you like to do this again?” “Not tonight. I’m done.” Edward chuckled. “I meant tomorrow morning. Or tomorrow night. Or whenever.” Sean realized exactly what Edward wasn’t precisely saying. It took him just a few seconds to think of a comfortable bed versus a swaybacked hammock, sensational sex on tap, and best of all the tenderness in the captain’s voice when he’d asked his question. It was an easy decision. “Yes, I would. I’d love to. Thank you, sir.” And they fell asleep together, arms wrapped around each other. In the morning, he’d sucked a first load out of the captain’s dick to wake him up properly. Then, that night, he’d let Edward fuck him and cum inside him twice more. Scarcely deterred even then, he’d sucked Edward into yet another erection, took that raging tool back into his hole – and the two of them had fallen asleep like that, big and little spoons, with a blissful smile on Sean’s face. He loved falling asleep with a man’s hard meat deep inside him, and Captain Edward, experiencing that treat for the first time, found it just as enjoyable. The two of them had remained a regular couple, at sea at least, for several years. Between Sean when out at sea, and Esmeralda when at home, Edward was completely contented. In time, Sean’s skills on the business and navigation side of things led Edward to appoint him as first mate of one of his other ships, Euphemia. He and Sean both missed their long relationship, losing no chance to revisit it whenever both of their ships were in Kingston at the same time. Now, with George having come aboard his ship, Captain Edward restrained himself from any further activities of that kind as he bent his energy instead to raising the next generation of the Treston family. It was an active education. The captain was a stern taskmaster, and he began at once to drill his son in the fundamentals of seamanship. He also tutored the boy in mathematics and astronomy, scientific backgrounds of immeasurable value in a shipping business. By age 10, George had his own sextant and was taking noon solar sights and working out the ship’s position with commendable care and accuracy. In practical terms, young George applied all the energy and fearlessness of youth to mastering the skills of climbing the rigging, and soon could be found racing up and down the ratlines with a speed which would have done credit to the most experienced of topmast men. Edward also lectured his son, in short but trenchant episodes, on the basics of the mercantile world, the skills of negotiating deals, the values of different cargoes, and the kinds of record keeping which would endear him to his shore-based customers. Edward wanted to shield his son from some of the rougher aspects of life on board ship, and had the young boy sleep beside him, on a small mattress on the deck in the captain’s cabin at the stern. Alas for good intentions, George was an even more than usually inquisitive boy and managed to explore all kinds of nooks and crannies – which was how he had first spotted men fucking together. He also managed to find out a good many other things which his father would rather he hadn’t known about – some of them involving Edward’s propensity for slick and underhanded business deals. One thing, though, he never learned about until years later, and that was his father’s liking for a firm male ass to fuck when a woman was nowhere to be found. George’s father knew without a doubt that his son was going to figure it all out sooner or later. Men at sea in wooden ships got just as horny as men on land, and they saw no reason to keep their bodily needs in check while out on the ocean and without female company. There was scarcely a night that didn’t see at least one roaring fuck scene played out in the cargo holds of any of the Treston ships. Other crew members, more brazen still, simply ripped off their pants, bent over the breech of one of the cannons, and took a fellow crewman’s raging erection right out in the open. In time, it was plain to see that Edward Treston had every expectation that his only son should follow him as the sixth generation owner of the family business, and he was making certain that young George should be as fully prepared as possible. Only son? Yes – and George was destined to remain so, as far as Edward was concerned. Nine years after her son George was born (and after she had miscarried twice), Esmeralda became pregnant again, under circumstances which had appeared decidedly suspicious to Edward. She had insisted, amid floods of tears, that the child was indeed his and no one else’s, but he remained doubtful. Then Esmeralda had given birth to twin girls, both of whom shared Edward’s distinctive dark-red hair colour when their hair grew in. Edward had the grace to admit contritely that he had been wrong. But Esmeralda wasn’t there to see or hear herself vindicated. She had died shortly after childbirth, bleeding uncontrollably, and George had suffered the first devastating loss of his young life. He had loved his mother, not least because she had treated him with great affection – which was more than he could say for his father, who often regarded him as more a business apprentice than his child. George was not altogether wrong in feeling that way about his parents, but he was very far wrong in extrapolating this to a belief that his father was incapable of any human feeling. The truth was far otherwise. Edward mourned for his Esmeralda, mourned to a degree which would have shocked many older and more experienced men than his son. The fact that he concealed his grief under his customary stern, gruff countenance when outside of his own private quarters proved less than nothing about his emotional state. In his own way, he was overset and knocked off his feet just as much as his son. Esmeralda had reached places deep inside his emotions which no one else had ever been able to touch in any way. Despite his pain and loss, Edward was acutely conscious that he had to make some provision for his three children, and he filled the gap in the lives of his infant daughters by acquiring Phoebe, a slave girl with a better than average command of English, to be their nurse. He then arranged, through his contacts, for her to live with the babies in the home of Richard Lajambe, another merchant who now lived full time ashore in Kingston. For his son, George, his provision was to take his son with him again on his next voyage.

Chapter 15 Silver Anniversary One of the many curious synchronicities between Steve’s life and his brother Alex’s vastly different life was the fact that both of them had become couples quickly and married quickly, impulsively, with a minimum of preparation – and very nearly at the same time. October 12, 2008, was the date when Steve and Jim had said their vows to each other to each other, while Denny and Alex had married just six nights later – October 18, 2008. Once they’d discovered the closeness of the dates, the annual “anniversary toast” on a video call (or in person) became a regular ritual. The dates took on added significance as they neared the year 2033 – their 25th anniversaries. All four of them were sure that they wanted to do something special to mark the occasion. As it happened, Alex and Denny got the head start on the process the previous winter, when they decided that, after many years of intensive and rewarding self-employment, the time had come to sell the Seaview Bed and Breakfast and enjoy a more casual lifestyle. Like many Canadians contemplating retirement, they decided to relocate from the east to the west, and settled in Canada’s undisputed retirement capital, the island city of Victoria in British Columbia. A major reason for that choice was, of course, to be closer to Steve and Jim – without having to go through all the hassles of immigration procedure to settle in the States. The move also made it practical for them to spend longer periods of time visiting each other, since Steve and Jim were also cutting back on their working lives, moving into part-time positions for the next few years. With October 2033 on the horizon, Alex and Denny set their plans to be in Los Angeles for the entire month, making the organizing of the anniversary simpler by far. That was all Ricky needed to hear – and he heard it one day over coffee at the Baked Bean, when Steve mentioned their planned time to the barista who asked him when his brother was going to be in town again. Ricky already knew the anniversary date, knew that Alex’s anniversary was less than a week away from Steve’s, and he put two and two together. As soon as he got home, he quickly messaged Steve’s friends – Daniel, Laszlo, Ziggy, Dylan, and a few others – to join him in an hour’s time on a group video call, if possible. All of them joined in, and as soon as Ricky explained the dates, they knew that he was calling on them to do something really special to celebrate their friends. They all loved the idea of course, and especially they loved the idea of a dual anniversary party, with both couples marking twenty-five years together. Steve and Jim were a very popular couple in WeHo, renowned like Alan for caring about others and trying to help anyone in need in any way they could. As Ziggy put it, “You’d struggle to find more than a handful of guys in the community who don’t love or admire them.” Alex and Denny weren’t as well known, of course, but everyone who’d ever met them had certainly liked them too. Thanks to Steve’s press agentry, that list had reached a pretty decent size, due to the number of guys from the WeHo community who had taken Steve up on his urging and had dropped in and stayed at the Seaview through the years. It was Daniel who had the brilliant idea to disguise the event as a charity fundraising fancy dress ball, calling it the Bal d’Argent – because of the Silver Anniversary. The event could certainly serve as a fundraiser too, but that wasn’t going to be the sole purpose. The group approved heartily when Laszlo suggested that it be a fundraiser for the Terry Westover Memorial Center. With this idea in mind, and five months available to plan, they set to work, with Alfonso (the newest recruit on the Center’s board) volunteering to head up the effort. The plan promptly ran into a huge obstacle which, believe it or not, none of them had foreseen. Steve was the Chair of the Board of Directors of the Center. He would certainly have to be in on the ground floor of all the planning. This would require a broad range of skilled duplicity on the part of all those involved. To put it simply, they were all going to have to lie in their teeth – over and over and over again. Two weeks later, that obstacle disappeared. Steve expressed a desire to be relieved of his workload as Chair and submitted his resignation. This letter was accepted with genuine regret. Steve’s role in the drive to get the Center up and running had just as pivotal as that of Ricky himself. Steve’s place was taken by the vice-chair, Daniel, and the plan was now free to go ahead. Of course, the Board held a special luncheon to thank Steve for his critical leadership role alongside Ricky during the years of the development leading to the opening of the Center. On this occasion he was given a custom-designed plaque, and a framed citation. In due course, the invitations were sent out. Everyone got the same invitation. Everyone except the unsuspecting guests of honour also got an enclosure which explained the double nature of the event and warned the recipients not to talk about the hidden purpose at any time, to anyone, lest it be overheard by some unsuspecting person not in on the secret and passed along to the happy couple. Steve did wonder, very loudly in fact, why he’d never heard about this event before. Daniel, who was on the receiving end of that phone call, smoothly passed it off as an inspiration dropped by Alfonso, the newest member of the board, at his first board meeting. Since Steve didn’t know Alfonso at all yet, he accepted that cover story and praised Daniel for his initiative in urging Alfonso to take this unusual but creative suggestion and run with it. Daniel then had to call Alfonso to warn him about the innocent little lie he had used to quiet Steve’s suspicions. About two weeks before they were due to arrive, Steve called Alex to warn him that they would all be attending a charity fundraising ball, and formal dress was specified, “so be sure to bring your tuxes and all the trimmings with you.” Alex sat stunned for a moment, and then replied: “You’re joking, right.” “No. Why?” “Do you seriously expect that two guys who worked in a gold mine up in the territories for a decade and then spent the next twenty-some years running a B and B in a fishing village in Nova Scotia will actually have formal dress suits with all the trimmings? Steve, get a grip!” At that, Steve had to laugh. “Sorry, Alex, I see your point. We’ll put the rental agency here on notice to be ready to supply yours along with ours. The event’s called the Bal d’Argent, so we figured it would be really cool to show up in silver-grey tuxedos.” “Sounds like a plan. What’s the fundraiser supporting?” “It’s for the counselling and help center that Ricky runs. I was the chair of the board for the last eleven years, but I just stepped down. Daniel’s the chair now.” “Well, that’s a great cause for sure. And it’s a nice fancy way to celebrate our 25th anniversaries. We’ll be there.” “Send me your measurements, and I’ll take them into the agency.” Daniel laughed heartily when he heard, from Steve himself, that the two happy couples were going to appear in matching, eye-catching outfits with no input from the organizers. It was a perfect set-up if ever he’d seen one. On the night of the party, they emerged from their separate bedrooms in a hotel suite. The four silver-grey tuxedos with matching trousers fit each of them to perfection. Jim had bought pale pink carnations for him and Steve to wear, and baby blue carnations for Denny and Alex – “to make sure they can tell who goes with whom,” Jim remarked solemnly, to hoots of laughter. The limo he’d booked was waiting for them at the front door and drove them to the Hollywood Imperial Hotel. The doorman bowed them in and pointed them towards the Royal Salon. Daniel and Ricky, likewise in impeccable evening dress, welcomed them at the door. None of them had seen Ricky turn and mutter a quick message to Ziggy, who disappeared into the room as they approached. Daniel and Ricky gave each of them a warm welcome hug and kiss, and then Ricky moved to open the door. Just as he did, the music inside suddenly died. Steve’s eyebrows went up a trifle and he nudged Jim discreetly. “What, Steve?” “Déjà vu much, Jim?” As they walked into the room, the crowd were all standing around chatting, drinks in hands. The décor was all in shining silver, as they’d expected. It was Jim who first noticed that many of the balloons hanging overhead had the number “25” emblazoned on them. A moment later, he heard Denny say, “Alex! Look at the balloons!” Just then Ziggy approached them, and as he reached them a couple of spotlights picked out the group. Ziggy lifted a microphone in his hand and spoke in his usual deep, authoritative voice: “Gentlemen, please welcome tonight’s guests of honour: Steven Rotherham, James Radstock, Alexander Rotherham, Denis Saint-Onge.” A thunderous roar of applause and cheering erupted as Jim turned to Steve and said, “Damn! That Ziggy got us again!” “The same trick, too!” Jim replied, laughing. “This way, gents!” Ziggy led them forward through the crowd to the dais, where a head table was set with just four seats. Across the wall behind, a huge banner declared “HAPPY 25TH ANNIVERSARY” with the four names displayed in random order around the edge, “Not us,” Alex protested. “We’re no big deal here.” “Yes, Alex, you two as well. You’re part of this community now too. This celebration is for all four of you.” He brought them up onto the dais and showed them to their seats while the cheering, applause, stamping and whistling filled the huge room. Ziggy needed the crowd to be quiet so the evening’s program could begin. Most people would expect that it would take a minimum of five solid minutes just to get everyone to quiet down. But no. Ziggy raised his microphone again and barked the single word: “STOP!” In twenty seconds everyone was quiet. He then explained the protocol for the evening and urged everyone to get seated as fast as possible, “because I’m getting hungry and there are a number of guys here who could warn you how dangerous it can be to cross me when I’m hungry.” A huge laugh erupted as he groped his crotch, but the entire crowd got seated in reasonably quick order. By intention, the speeches were kept to a brief minimum. The four-course dinner followed on promptly and was thoroughly enjoyed by all present. After dinner a huge anniversary cake was wheeled out onto the floor, ceremoniously cut by the two couples at opposite ends, and neatly fed to each of them by their respective partners. “Neatly,” as Daniel said much later, “because you fellows were really too mature to be having a cake fight in public and smashing cake into each other’s faces like a pair of blushing newlyweds.” They then stood in a group of four to hold their traditional anniversary toast. “Steve and Jim….” “Alex and Denny….” “Happy Anniversary!!” The emotional climax of the evening came when Ricky came forward and asked for silence. He then announced that to mark the beginning of Year 26, the two couples were going to take the floor for the first dance of their next quarter century. The band struck up a quiet, slow ballad, and the four men moved onto the floor, holding each other close. They moved easily around each other, turning slowly about so that everyone in the room got a good view of all four of them. Then, at the midpoint of the song, Jim quietly said, “Let’s switch.” The two couples parted, and then reformed and danced on. Steve was murmuring to Denny, “You see, Denny, this community loves you two just as much as they love Jim and me now.” At the same time, Alex was speaking his own heartfelt thoughts to Jim. “Thank you for everything you’ve done to make my brother feel so happy and loved and whole.” At the end of the dance, the four of them moved into a tight little group hug as the room burst again into cheering. Ziggy took the mike one last time. “Okay, gents, party on!” The band erupted into loud, lively music, the floor quickly filled up, and the whole gathering roared into action. The two happy couples tried to dance too, but it was a losing cause. There was a nonstop lineup of party guests, wanting to thank or congratulate each of them individually. In no time, they’d realized that they’d just have to suck it up and form a receiving line. That kept them all busy for the next three-quarters of an hour, but at last they were able to rejoin the dance and really cut loose and enjoy themselves. Nothing, though, could alter the fact that the guests of honour didn’t quite have the same stamina as many of the younger crowd, and they really wanted a quiet time to themselves too. After another hour of lively dancing, and after discreetly explaining themselves to Daniel, they slipped away and crossed the lobby to the lounge for a last drink and a private chat. All four were a little dizzy at the honour shown to them, at the endless streams of kind words of praise and heartfelt thanks from so many people. For Denny and Alex especially, there was the wonder of being so warmly welcomed into a community where they were still relative strangers to most. For Jim and Steve, there was the equally marvellous discovery that everyone had been aware of your actions all along when you thought you were just doing little helpful things here and there, out of the spotlight, under cover. The server arrived and poured a round from the premium Scotch which Denny had ordered. They picked up the glasses, and Denny said, “Here’s to us, boys – the best damn family this planet has ever seen!” “To us!” All four echoed his words enthusiastically, clinked their glasses, and drank the toast. Jim replied in kind. “Here’s to all our wonderful future adventures together!” That toast, too, was drunk with loud approval. After that, Steve got Alex and Denny in stitches with the story of how Ziggy had nailed them in exactly the same way on the occasion of their impromptu wedding, twenty-five years earlier. As the conversation went on for another half hour and more, Steve mused that Denny was right – the four of them had indeed bound themselves together into a family, and a far tighter, kinder, more loving family than any of the three families they had been born into. His journey throughout his life, and especially during the past twenty-five years, had truly been amazing. As for their future adventures, well, they would all do their best to make good on that toast, too. But only time would tell that tale. On this night, he was content with leaving that promise to the future.

Chapter 15: Golden Boy It was around this time that Steve and Jim moved yet again, getting a line on a penthouse in another nearby building which would cost them hardly any more than they were already paying in fees for an increase of about 40% in space, and a spectacular view into the bargain. The move passed without incident, and there was no big party this time. The next couple of months saw two significant people move into their new building. One was Daniel, who came back from his self-imposed exile in Hawaii and joined Laszlo in his apartment three floors down. The other was Ricky. Steve had heard via the grapevine that Ricky had packed up and moved out of Alan’s deluxe penthouse, heading on to the next phase of his life. He’d also heard about a group of young guys who had sublet Mr. Oglethorpe’s condo on the eighteenth floor. What he had failed to do was to connect the two stories together. Ricky was ahead of Steve in getting into the picture. He’d been sunning on the pool one day when Laszlo and Daniel came out together, had a quick swim, and then settled side by each on a pair of loungers which they pulled right together so they could hold hands and stroke each other while they were sunning. Ricky was enthralled at the sight of two famous porn bulges in tight swimsuits and made a brave effort to walk over and flirt with them. Alas for fond hopes, all it got him was an invitation to spread some suntan lotion on their backs, plus the joy of seeing everyone else present smirking at his discomfiture when the conversation ended with a simple “thank you”. Soon after all the new guys moved in, Steve and Jim invited Ricky over for dinner and more. It was a fairly regular routine. What was a bit unusual this time was that Steve had promised Ricky that he would properly fuck him. Ricky had of course stolen a load on his first encounter with Steve, but just by jamming the head of the rammer inside himself at the last second, and that hardly counted. He knew that he had to get himself thoroughly reamed out by that epic tool before he could call his life complete. While they were down at the pool on this occasion, Ricky tried to discreetly drop the name of the Hawaiian Nine into the conversation, but Jim wasn’t fooled for an instant. “Oh, so you’ve got him in your starry-eyed gunsights now, have you? I’d give up on that fantasy if I were you. He’s a changed man.” “That’s right,” Steve chimed in. “For years he never had sex with anyone unless there was a camera pointing at him – strictly business and only business. But now, the little boy with the arrows has shot him through the heart. He’s in luuuve, and it’s his first love as well as the great love of his life. He’s off the market, in no uncertain terms.” Ricky sighed. He’d come to the right place to get the facts, as opposed to the community’s salacious, endless, garbled gossip, but the answer he’d gotten wasn’t the one he was hoping for. However, Steve took pity on him and dropped in a note of comfort. “But here’s what we’re going to do. We’re planning a Friday evening drinks and nibbles party for them next week. They’re our friends, and we thought it would be nice to let them meet some of our other friends in the building, and that includes you and Dylan. Seven o’clock till ten on the sixteenth.” “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be sure to let Dylan know. Just give me a second here to block it off on my calendar.” He quickly entered it into his phone. As he did that, Jim spoke. “Okay, that’s enough talk about the Hawaiian Nine, it’s ruining my self-confidence the way you fellows just keep bleating on and on about him.” Steve and Ricky both laughed at him, and the conversation moved on to other topics. And then the visit shifted from the pool deck back up to their new penthouse, and then from the living room to the bedroom, where the highlight was that Steve proceeded to give Ricky the full treatment from the infamous Rod Rammer’s enormous tool. Even for a bottom as experienced as Ricky had now become, it was a struggle. That cock was so damn huge, and he had to really work at it with a lot of patience. It took nearly twenty minutes of effort before he was finally able to drop down the last inch and a half and plant his cheeks squarely on Steve’s hip bones. Riding up and down on that monster wasn’t a bit easier. Jim had to sit on Steve’s face to get his hands into a position where he could help Ricky to keep his balance as he had to slide up for what felt like halfway to their penthouse’s extra-high ceiling, and then slide all the way back down again. He wasn’t able to do it very quickly, but the fact that he could do it at all and take the entire length of the legendary Rammer deep inside him over and over again put him into a very exclusive club. So did the fact that he was able to keep going for ten minutes of it, no less, before pulling off and changing position. This time he got right down on his face on the bed and let Steve mount on top of him and drive that insanely thick manmeat right down inside his guts. He lay there, moaning and crying out, as the Rammer kept pounding and driving into his body. But he hung in all the way, doing his best to stroke cock with his muscles until Steve lost it and let his balls empty out into Ricky’s hard-working ass. Steve finally pulled up and off and laid down at the side of the bed, allowing Ricky to breathe and relax while waiting for his hole to close up again. That was when Jim took over, giving Steve what he really wanted – a good deep ass fuck and a nice hot load of his husband’s sperm deep inside his quivering hole. As he had so often before, Ricky found himself shaking his head at the thought of such a gigantic piece of man meat being wasted on a guy who actually wanted to be on the bottom. But he had to admit, all the same, that he could tell the signs when a guy was really enjoying being drilled and there was no question that Steve loved every minute of Jim plowing him. Later on, after getting dressed again, they settled down for another drink (“Just Perrier for me,” Jim said with a wink), and Steve had to caution Ricky again. “Listen, Ricky, I know you’re just dying to tell the immediate world who fucked you today, but I’m begging you not to tell anyone – please. If the word gets out that Rod Rammer fucked someone again, I’ll have three-quarters of the world’s gay men beating a path to my door – not to mention all the porn producers who will want to tempt me out of retirement, over and over and over!” Ricky promised, but then his curiosity got the better of him. “So how did the Hawaiian Nine get you to come out of retirement if you didn’t want to?” Jim interrupted before Steve could even get his mouth opened. “My job at the time wanted me to go on a field mission in Europe for six weeks, and this poor guy just got sooo lonely without me.” Steve batted right back. “Yeah, I know, Jim, your fatal attraction. Such a sex god.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, and then laughed loudly. “Actually, Ricky, I wanted to do the Nine a favour. I knew he was planning to retire and leave town, and I thought it would be a good way to cap off his career and get people off my back at the same time if I let him fuck me on screen after I fucked him. And by the way, his real name is Daniel, Daniel Nakamura, and his boyfriend’s real name is Laszlo Kertesz. And don’t forget, he really hates it when people call him the Hawaiian Nine now so please remember that when you meet him here.” Steve realized that he was feeling more and more like a kind of den father towards Ricky, wanting to help this energetic and enthusiastic young fellow avoid making some of the dumb mistakes he’d made as a kid. Considering how many years he’d had those kinds of feelings towards Daniel, he could fairly call Ricky the second generation of his young pupils. As he put it to himself, you know you’re really a daddy when…. The other thing he could see shining out of Ricky, plain as day, was the degree of closeness in his relationship with his best friend and roommate, Dylan. He wasn’t the only one. Pretty much everyone who knew these two young men had the same reaction. Why did they keep insisting that they weren’t in a relationship, that they were just friends, when everyone who knew them saw the hallmarks of lifelong commitment shining all over them? At any rate, Ricky and Dylan behaved themselves beautifully at the party. No clumsy attempts at flirting or anything along that line. In fact, they held a long conversation with Laszlo and Daniel, all about the new photography/videography business which the two ex-porn performers had started up. Steve was impressed by Ricky’s demeanour as he’d never seen the young golden boy acting in such an adult fashion before. Heard about it from Alan, yes, but never seen it. Daniel and Laszlo, too, were impressed by this other side of Ricky. Over time, they too gradually became friends with the younger couple. Not fuck buddies, but friends certainly. But Ricky still had his crazy days and went on quite a binge of them a year later. It was Daniel who succeeded in finding out during this crisis time the frightening degree to which Ricky had become so jaded that he no longer felt any kind of reaction at all when having sex. After he’d had some sessions of therapy with Ziggy, he calmed down and matured considerably. Just in time, as Steve observed later. He and Jim were equally horrified, as were Daniel and Laszlo, when Dylan was attacked one night on his way home, viciously assaulted by three men who trashed his hole so badly that the surgeon had no option but to seal it shut and install a colostomy instead. “There’s got to be something we can do to help those guys get through this horrible time,” Steve said sadly to Jim after the news reached them. “Steve, I agree, but what?” “We need to make sure that Dylan’s hospital bill is covered. That’s going to break him financially, like he’s not already broken enough.” “It’s going to take a lot of money. Let’s see who we could tap into.” Together the two of them drew up a list, and then corralled over a dozen wealthy members of the community, collecting donations from them. The reluctant ones were persuaded when Steve or Jim said to them, “I’m not asking you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. My $10,000 is already in. Is yours?” When the time came for Ricky to sign Dylan out of the hospital and take him home, the entire bill had been paid, much to their relief. Steve, too, heaved a sigh of relief that his impromptu fundraising drive had managed to hit the target. One of the people he had approached was Alan – no surprise there. Alan did not kick in, because he had already foreseen another need. He had guessed correctly, and soon enough Alan was paying the shot for Dylan’s extended therapy sessions with Ziggy. Daniel kicked in, too, finding that he and Laszlo also cared about the guys that Daniel called “a pair of shining stars among all the pale lights in WeHo.” His contribution went to fund a few more therapy sessions for Ricky, as he coped with helping Dylan. Ziggy did his part as well, writing off a fair chunk of his total billings. All of them, along with many more members of the community, drew together to help and support Ricky and Dylan when their friend Terry Westover died (not long after the rape) of an overdose. About a month after that tragedy, Steve bumped into Ricky at the Baked Bean. At once, he asked Ricky how he was doing. “It’s been a brutal year, Steve. Brutal. But I’m not letting it go like that. I am damn well going to make something good come out of this. I just don’t know how or when, but I am going to find a way to set up a lasting memorial for Terry. I want to create a help center named after him, for gay guys dealing with problems like addictions, money issues, social dysfunctions, you name it.” “Sex addictions too?” Steve’s question was tinged with a hint of irony. “”I get it, that was a dig at me. But yes, that too. Where else do you think my therapy with Dr. Magnus ended up taking me, anyway?” Steve nodded. It was not a surprising conclusion. “Ricky, it sounds like a great idea. There’s always an unending need for services like that around here. Can I throw in another idea? Help for guys who are trying to get out of porn or sex work.” “Really? I hadn’t thought of that.” “Ricky, trying to get out of that line of work can be hugely challenging. You need an exit strategy, you need help getting some kind of work to replace the income, and it’s all hard to do when you don’t have any ‘legitimate’ work to put on a resume. Voice of experience here. I managed it because I’d saved my money but a lot of the guys in that world burn through their money as fast as they can earn it.” “Thanks for the suggestion. Yes, that should be part of the plan as well.” “And money?” “That’s the tough part. It’ll take some time to round up starter funding. In order to raise serious money, we need to structure a nonprofit corporation, with a board and officers and all.” “We, Ricky? That sounds like you’re including me in this.” Ricky laughed. “I guess I was. It just seemed like a natural fit, since you’re such a caring person.” Steve didn’t have to think long. It was a natural fit for him, and he enjoyed the idea of working again with someone who was truly passionate about what he was trying to achieve. “Ricky, you’re right. You really have incredible perception when you’re dealing with people. Yes, I’m in. Let’s work on this together.” And just like that, the stage was set for the next big thing in Steve’s life. For once, when Steve told Jim what he’d just committed himself to doing, Jim didn’t make a joke of it. “Wow, Steve, that is an amazing idea. And you are just the person to help Ricky make it happen.” It took a long time, though. Ricky was impatient at times, in the classic manner of the young go-getter, but Steve brought the wisdom of age to the partnership and kept him steady and on-track as they fought through the obstacles. Several years later, they were still struggling with the obstacles. It seemed as if the target for which they were aiming kept receding into the future, no matter how hard they ran to try to catch it. Of course, the problems always kept coming around to the need for money. More than once, Steve suggested they rope Alan in on the project, but to this Ricky showed stubborn resistance. “No. That’s the one place I won’t go. If he hears about it and steps forward, that’s different. Steve, I have taken so much, benefitted so often from Alan’s wealth. Let’s face it, he got me established in life, in this community. I feel enough like a fake already without going running to that source again for this proposal. So no.” Steve didn’t fight him. He could understand why Ricky felt the way he did. It called to mind his own experience in New York City, living the high life in a beautiful condo which the owner was giving to him for far less than it was worth, in exchange for sex. Steve let the matter rest there. And then fate intervened. One day, Jim came home and said, “You’ll never guess who I ran into down at the Baked Bean just now.” “Well?” “Alan. And Ricky. And they’re living together again. Ricky’s moved back into the palace.” “What the hell? What’s that all about?” “I didn’t ask. Just a quick hello in passing.” “Well, I’m going to find out.” Steve grabbed his phone and texted Ricky with a quick question. A minute later the phone rang. “Hello, Steve.” Ricky sighed deeply. “Jim told you.” “He told me what, but he didn’t tell me why.” “That’s because Alan wouldn’t have appreciated me blatting it out in public. But you certainly have a right to know. Alan has cancer. It’s terminal. He wants to die at home. And I moved back in to help him, just to be with him.” “Ricky, I don’t know what to say.” “You don’t have to, Steve. I can feel your shock, your pain – and your support. Just… please…, be there for me… after.” “Ricky, we’re friends. You don’t even have to ask.” Steve and Jim watched from afar for the next month or so, until the day when they went to the Baked Bean together and saw Ricky there, with Alan. Alan waved them over. “Come here and sit with us. It’s good to see you again.” “As soon as we get our orders in.” Presently the four of them were sitting and talking, over coffee and croissants. Alan wanted to know all about what they were doing, their work, their travel plans. And then he asked another question, “Something else I want to know, when are you going to see Alex and Denny again?” As always, the mere mention of the names made Steve smile. “They’re coming here in a couple of months. Right now, they’re back east, visiting Denny’s sisters in Montreal.’ “I’d love to see those two again, They’re such great people. When I talk to Alex, I can see a lot of him that reminds me of you. Whatever problems you had with your family, they did bless you two with good genes.” Steve chuckled and lifted up his arms in a classic flex pose. “That’s what I mean. Good genes for sure.” And Alan smacked Steve’s bicep lightly, making them all laugh. As Steve and Jim were walking home afterwards, Jim said, “There’s a man who’s become a legend in his own time because of his wealth. Those of us who’ve known him, though, we know that what’s really legendary is the size of his heart. I think any guy in this community who’s ever come to know Alan is a better man because of him.” Steve said nothing, just nodded in agreement. They never saw Alan again. When Ricky came to their condo to tell them the news in person, Steve said nothing – just held out his arms and pulled Ricky into a deep hug. Then they sat him down on the sofa, in between them, and asked him to tell them how it happened. By Alan’s express wish, there was no funeral. A couple of months after his death, Steve and Jim organized an informal wake, inviting a group of friends who had known Alan personally, and they all spent an evening sharing memories and stories. There were a lot of good laughs, some tears, and a great deal of hugging. At the end of the evening, Ricky and Dylan hung back as the others left. Ricky had something to say. “Thanks for this, Steve. It was a great way to remember Alan. Now, I want to tell you something important. He left a specific bequest to support the center. We’re on our way at last.” “That’s wonderful. How much?” “Ten million. It’s an endowment, but we can leverage it for start-up funds.” Steve nodded. He was familiar with the concept after his years of office work. Ricky went on. “I don’t want to be on the board. I’ve decided that I really want to, need to be the hands-on administrator when we open. Steve, can I ask you to serve as Chair of the Board?” “Of course. Who else?” “Daniel, if I can get him for Vice Chair and Treasurer. Dylan has agreed to be Secretary. And Dr, Magnus, I’m going to ask him to be the Medical Director.” “Ricky, you really have to overcome your awe of the man and learn to call him Ziggy – in private, at least.” They all laughed. “And where do I come in?” Jim’s nose wasn’t exactly out of joint, but he was curious. “Jim, I think we need you to be the outside expert we can hire as a fundraising consultant. Strictly at arms length, of course.” Ricky gave a roguish wink. Then Steve had another thought. “So, Ricky, if this is going to be the Terry Westover Memorial Center, how do we honour Alan’s contribution?” “We don’t. His will explicitly forbids us to name his as anything other than an anonymous donor.” “Ricky, people will guess. And they will talk.” Ricky’s eyes welled up all in a moment. “That’s exactly what I said when he told me.” Steve moved in and gave him a long, strong hug. After Ricky and Dylan left, arm in arm, Jim said, “He was in love with Alan. Why did I never realize before?” “Probably because Ricky never realized before. I’m glad you didn’t say anything while he was here. That would be like rubbing salt in the wound. He loved Alan, and Alan loved him, and neither of them understood that until it was too late – or almost too late.” Three years later, Steve stood beside Ricky at the grand opening of the Terry Westover Center, watching as the young go-getter, the legendary bottom sex fiend, the golden boy of WeHo, stepped up and took his place as a significant man of caring and helping others, as (in effect) “Alan Bryors Mark II,” a man Steve was proud to call his friend.

Chapter 14: Vanishing Act “What do you mean, he vanished? People don’t just disappear like a puff of smoke!” Jim was incredulous. “Except in science fiction. Remember that story I told you I was reading, about a couple of gay guys who just kept disappearing everywhere? Some kind of genetic mutation caused by a higher intelligence….” “Is that the kind of disappearance we’re looking at here, Steve?” “Of course not! Or at least I don’t expect so. Just a few nights before we left town to go down east, Daniel had invited us to come over to his place for a party, a release party for his final film, and a goodbye party because he had sold the company. We declined because I had no part in that film, and because I had a lot of business details to straighten out before we went on holiday, so I was working pretty long hours all that week. Now I wish I had gone, because he disappeared right after that event.” “Foul play?” “Doesn’t seem likely. That was Laszlo I was talking to, you would remember him as Arpad Nagy. He told me that he’d been asking around. Daniel did a quick sale of his stuff, stored a few things with friends, and then sold his condo. He cut off his phone and shut down his email and social media accounts. He hasn’t been seen or heard from since by anyone.” “Ah-hah! An intentional vanishing act.” “That’s exactly what everyone thinks, but no one knows why.” Jim looked serious now. “I hope he’s not hiding out from somebody who wants him dead.” “It wouldn’t be impossible. There’s always been sketchy people and gang money floating around in the porn business, although I’d have sworn he was too smart to get sucked into that trap.” Jim’s mind was cranking over at full speed now, and an image from his memory came to the surface. “Steve, I’m just remembering something. The last time I saw Daniel, it was at a charity party we went to back a month or two before this all happened. He seemed really preoccupied, like his mind was somewhere else altogether. You know the look, a person is talking to you, but they seem completely detached from the time and place they’re actually in at the moment. Then someone came by and asked him if he could get to an event next month, and without even looking at his calendar, he said, “Sorry, no, I’m booked up then” – or something like that. I think he’s been planning this for quite a while.” “And another one, Jim. This is basically what I did when I ended my porn career to go to college in Denver. I let people know I was leaving, and that they shouldn’t expect to have me available for any kind of work in the future, and then I pretty much disappeared – by moving to a place where no one knew me, and by changing my appearance. Daniel seems to have done the same thing, except that he didn’t bother warning people, he just up and left. But he did say something to me not so long ago about how I had inspired him by doing that abrupt change of direction in my life.” “You’re thinking…?” “I’m thinking that he’s hiding somewhere right out in the open, in plain sight, just well disguised in some way.” “Bit of a challenge for a guy who’s so strongly built and so devastatingly handsome. But you could be right.” “Hold on a sec, Jim. That sounded like you have the hots for Daniel Nakamura. And you think it wouldn’t have been a challenge for me?” “That wasn’t quite what I meant. But look, you could pull off longer hair and colouring it blond, because your fair skin seems to make sense with almost any hair colour. But a guy with his heavy-duty muscles and rich brown skin tone, blond hair would just make him stand out even more like a sore thumb.” “True. Okay, I guess I’ll let you get away with that one.” They both laughed again – but only for a moment or two. Steve was a man who valued his friends, and Daniel mattered to him. Jim didn’t know him nearly as well, but he had always liked what he did know. Now both of them were puzzled, and somewhat worried with it – Steve more worried than Jim, because he knew how challenging any kind of simple social interaction was for Daniel, except when it was a matter of business. Daniel just wasn’t that comfortable around people, likely because of his life experiences. A few nights later, they had Laszlo over for dinner, because Steve wanted to talk to him some more about the disappearance of Daniel. Their conversation didn’t yield anything new in the way of information, except for one interesting detail. There was one person who did know where Daniel was – or at least knew how to get in touch with him. That one person was Marina, who had always been in charge of the “costuming” (such as it was) for Hawaiian Nine videos. She had a new email address for him, but she also had explicit instructions not to share it with anyone else. As Laszlo put it (and Steve agreed with him), Daniel might just as well have told nobody for all the good that was going to do. Marina was a tough nut when it came to keeping secrets. “All that tells us is that he is at least alive.” Laszlo’s voice, as he said that, carried a distinctive tone, and it was Jim who picked up on it and explained it after the younger guy had left them, with thanks. “Steve, do you realize that Laszlo’s in love with Daniel? I could tell by the sound of his voice.” “I hadn’t realized, actually, but now that you mention it – yes, I was kind of aware of that vibe the last time I saw them together, on my final shoot. But I would have thought that it was two-sided. Daniel was giving off that vibe too – but being the man he is, he’d have even less idea what it meant or how to cope with it. What a mess! I really feel for Laszlo, because Marina isn’t the only tough nut. Daniel keeps all of his feelings so thoroughly locked up inside himself. I don’t think he’s even capable of forming a relationship because he keeps his inner fortress so securely guarded – and I think he’s forgotten how to unlock it, or else he can’t remember where he put the key.” “Sound like anyone else you know, Steve?” Jim was giving him a meaningful look. “Of course it does. I found it was a necessity of working in porn. I couldn’t ever let my unguarded feelings loose, and I kept it all on lockdown. It was my good fortune that you walked into my life right at the point when I was hitting maximum frustration, and you were able to tap into that feeling and get me to let it all out so I could begin to be at least sort of human again.” “You sound as if you need some more help now to get your feelings under control.” “Right again – I really do.” Jim realized that Steve was carrying a lot of stress from worrying about so many people on so many different levels – a character trait which was so endearing in him, but which also cost him dearly in wear and tear on his emotions. He led Steve gently down the hall to their bedroom, and there they spent the balance of the evening reaffirming their relationship with a passionate encounter. By the time Jim had kissed Steve all over, eaten his ass into ecstasy, filled him up with two loads of sperm, and drunk down one of those magnificent Rod Rammer sized orgasms, Steve was feeling much calmer, and ready to fall asleep in cuddled safety, nestled against the body of the man he loved. The two of them kept an eye on Laszlo throughout the next year. They could include him in social events, but there wasn’t much else they could do. It was particularly frustrating for Steve, who understood all the difficult cross-currents in the situation better than Jim ever would. All they could really do was to keep watching, unable to help at all, as Laszlo’s tension level rose higher and higher through that year. Laszlo’s stress level reached a peak of intensity when he had to accept a video award meant for him and Daniel, and he had to explain Daniel’s absence in his speech – a speech which ended with him having a complete emotional breakdown on stage. Not too long after that, a promising relationship with a fellow porn model had ended badly, and there he was, high and dry. It didn’t help matters any that he'd made it clear in public why he was so wound up. Jim and Steve did what they could, keeping an eye out for him and inviting him to spend time with them, but that was the only help they could give him. Christmas time was another matter. When the Christmas season rolled around they had planned a seasonal celebration which was unlike any they’d ever had before. After a fair degree of organization and discussion back and forth, they packed up and flew out on Dec. 19 to Toronto, connecting on to Halifax. Alex and Denny met them at the airport and drove them back to Exmouth for their first family Christmas with the four of them together, indeed the first family Christmas celebration either Jim or Steve had ever experienced since their own childhood days. They had another wonderful time of quiet sharing, strengthening the bonds they had formed the previous spring. It was a simple matter to have the house to themselves as the Seaview B&B always closed from the end of October to the Easter weekend or the beginning of April, whichever came first. Although they didn’t plan on a formal gift exchange, Denny did arrange for a professional photographer friend to drop by the house on Christmas Eve and do a series of individual and family group portraits in front of the Christmas tree and the fireplace, which he then had printed up for all of them. On Christmas Day, Alex and Steve put their heads together in the kitchen and prepared a stunning traditional dinner with all the trimmings. There were Christmas toasts galore, x-rated Christmas crackers to pull, and some Christmas chocolates in especially raunchy shapes which Jim had found in a store at home and brought along. On Christmas night, when they were all loaded to the top with turkey and stuffing and all the trimmings, washed down with far too much rum before dinner and wine with dinner, Steve asked a question that had been bothering him ever since he and Jim had first landed at the Seaview. “Okay, there’s one thing I want to know.” “One thing?” “Denny, how did you come to call my brother ‘Alfie’?” Denny and Alex both laughed uproariously, but it was Alex who answered. “Steve, let’s go take a good look at the wall behind the desk in the front hall.” They got up, walked out there, and looked. It wasn’t large – just a normal size framed cover of an old issue of MAD Magazine, featuring the unforgettable features of Alfred E. Neuman. “Denny is a rabid collector of anything connected with MAD Magazine. Any kind of memorabilia, badges, souvenirs, bobblehead dolls, posters, old back issues, you name it, he’s got it. When I first came to the mine, and we met, the guy who introduced us just gave my name as ‘Al’. Denny did the natural thing any rabid MAD fan would do. He began calling me ‘Alfred’ and later on he just shortened it to ‘Alfie’.” Steve turned to Jim, and in his most solemn voice and manner admonished him, “Whatever you do, Jim, don’t start calling me ‘Roddie’.” The ensuing laugh nearly blew the roof off the place. Then, on December 28, they all drove back to Halifax and flew off as a group to a large gay resort in Mexico for a sunny New Year’s celebration. During that week, they enjoyed endless rounds of sun and swimming, snorkeling, far too many margaritas, and far too much food. Alex in particular enjoyed the break from his normal life which revolved around the Seaview’s kitchen. On New Year’s Eve, the resort scheduled a full-on costume masquerade party, starting with a buffet dinner which opened at 5:00 pm, and with two expert tune spinners keeping the music pumping until three in the morning, apart from the twenty-minute break at 11:55 pm to cheer the New Year in. The management included in the price of the party ticket a help-yourself selection of masks in just about every colour and design you could think of: full face down to eyes only, black, white, every colour of the rainbow and plenty of in-between shades, gold trim, silver trim, sparkles, neon straps and ribbons, you name it, they had it. They also offered a huge stash of costume items which could be rented for the night. There was a fair bit of joking beforehand as the family prepared in their suite. “Hey, Steve, why don’t you just go as a porn star? Simple costume prep for you!” “Nah. Too obvious. He needs a more imaginative idea. Denny and Alex could try to go as a pair of sexy, half-dressed miners like the guys in the Village People.” “No way, Alex has to be in a chef’s hat, but with a tiny little bit of an apron.” “Then Denny ought to dress as a hotel housekeeper with a feather duster in his waistband.” And so on. In the event, Jim turned up in a cropped t-shirt and too-small workout shorts in blazing pink. Steve appeared in a brilliant blue wrestling singlet. Denny went with a full-sleeved black top that was cropped off above the nipples, and a matching jockstrap. Alex opted for a beautifully-fitted full tailcoat made of see-through black mesh, over a brilliant gold G-string. Steve pretended to be jealous. “Great! I thought I was going to walk off with the honours this evening, and instead I’ve got my whole family trying to outdo me!” After another good laugh, they slapped on their masks and headed off to the party, with Alex bringing a couple of the keycards – since he was the only one whose costume contained a pocket. Those eye-catching costumes drew a lot of attention even during the dinner hour, and even more so later on the dance floor. In spite of the fact that all four of them were closing in on age fifty, with Alex actually over at fifty-one, they had all kept in top-notch condition and were well worth a good long look, at the very least. They got a lot more. All of them found themselves attracting attention with all kinds of hot guys from young twinks and muscle boys to older bears and hunks. It didn’t take long before Steve, going with the flow, had the nearly full length of his rammer on display in the singlet. He tried to will it to settle down but found that his tool had ideas of its own on this night. Sure enough, it drew even more eyes as it got larger. After the New Year’s toast, with the inevitable singing of “Auld Lang Syne” and consequent hugging and kissing all over the hall, there were two guys who continued hugging and kissing Steve – a pair of fortyish muscle bears, one in front and one behind. They had matching costumes – leather chaps, boots, jockstraps, and cowboy hats. The one in front, of course, was busy working on Steve’s cock, which by now had grown to its full size and was leaking, leaving a visible dark stain on the singlet’s taut-stretched material. But it was the guy behind, who had his arms wrapped around Steve’s body, who was mainly responsible for that growing rod as he ground his own hard cock against Steve’s firm round ass, while playing with the nipples through the skintight fabric. Jim was dancing close by, but not with anyone else. He was too interested in the show that Steve and the two cowboys were putting on. He’d gently batted away a young beach boy who was showing interest in him, not to miss out on any of the real fun. When the bear in front started trying to pull down the shoulder straps of his singlet, Steve stopped him. ”Not here.” “Can we go somewhere?” the bear asked. “Let me bring my husband along too?” Steve gestured to Jim. “Sure, the more the merrier.” Just then, Alex and Denny came by en route to the bar, having detoured when they spotted the hot action taking place. “Wow, Steve, score!” Steve raised his eyebrows in enquiry to the bear in front while tilting his head towards Alex and Denny, got an affirmative nod, and said, “Come on, guys, it’s private party time.” The six of them headed out to the elevators and up to the fifth floor. The two cowboys led them down the hall and unlocked another suite. Once they were all inside, they exchanged names – the two bears were named Eric and Connor – and the party quickly revved up from there. In no time flat, Connor was back behind Steve, groping his ass cheeks and rubbing his cock bulge all over against Steve’s ass. Denny went down on his knees in front of Steve, wanting to enjoy the taste of the precum soaking the front of his singlet. Meanwhile, Eric – having been cut out of the action with Steve by Denny’s quick move, had just as quickly grabbed hold of Alex and began kissing him with great intensity, while grabbing his cock bulge and squeezing it with his free hand. Jim had seized the opportunity to move in behind Alex, lift the tailcoat, and pull the G-string aside so he could begin eating ass. Over the next minute or so, the various costumes got dispatched, and the real work of the night began. Connor was now down on his knees, eating Steve’s ass for all he was worth. Denny had seized the opportunity to have some fun with Steve for the first time and was also on his knees as he struggled to swallow Steve’s epic ramrod. In what seemed mere moments, there were three men tangled up together on each of the two king beds in the room. Connor was the first to move, picking Steve up bodily and carrying him over to drop him onto the bed, on his back. Connor then climbed up between his legs and lifted them up so he could dig down into Steve’s ass again with his eager mouth. Denny followed right behind, getting up by Steve’s head and feeding his cock deep down inside Steve’s mouth. As he was munching down on Steve’s hole and crack, Connor noticed something interesting – a unique and visible mole on the underside of that massive cock. “Fuck, man, that mole on your dick, it looks just like….” Steve spit out Denny’s cock long enough to reply. “Go ahead, say it. Urgghhh!” That last exclamation shot out as Denny pushed his log back down Steve’s throat. And then the reality struck home as Connor finally put two and two together. “Oh, shit, man, I didn’t know… you’re Rod Fucking Rammer!” Again, Steve had to force Denny out. “Not any more, that was years ago.” “Shit, Steve, can you just get on with it and quit talking when I’m trying to face fuck you?” From the other bed, Alex and Jim both roared with laughter. Eric protested. “Come on, you guys, get with the program!” Alex climbed back on top of the prone Eric in the sixty-nine position so they could resume sucking each other, while Jim got behind Alex and carried on with tonguing his ass into a soaking-wet frenzy of fuck fever. Steve was getting tired of being teased. “Can somebody please get their big raw dick inside my ass and fuck my brains out already?” Connor sat back, looking stunned. Rod Rammer didn’t talk that way, and he sure as hell didn’t take dick in his ass. This guy had to be putting him on. But Denny picked up the ball and ran with it. “Here, Connor, change ends and I’ll give him what he wants.” With that, Denny got right around between Steve’s legs, and proceeded to plant the head of his generously thick eight-incher on the button and started pushing it in. Connor stared in mute disbelief as inch after inch of cock slid slowly out of sight into the hole that he thought would never get fucked. “Connor, snap out of it and give me that cock to suck on. I want you inside my ass as soon as Denny cums in there so you can give me my second load of the night.” Connor snapped out of it, and quickly got into position to feed his meat into Steve’s active mouth. By this time, Alex had swung around on top of Eric and slid up to the position where he could get Eric’s cock up against his hole. Unlike Connor, Eric had no hesitation at all. He loved fucking ass, and Alex had a good-looking one. Alex was ready, no question. He reached back, grabbed Eric’s nine inch fuck meat, and proceeded to push down onto it, letting it pry his hole open and force its way inside him. Steve was getting spit-roasted by Connor in his mouth and Denny in his ass, while Alex was riding on Eric as Jim sucked his cock and pulled on his nipples. All six of them were getting wound up, and the race to the finish line was on. That was when Connor switched from face-fucking Steve to trying to suck on his massive cock. It looked close to being a photo finish, until Alex gasped out the words, “Fuck, man! I want it! Give me your cum!” Eric, who always responded well to verbal cues, immediately exploded inside Alex’s ass. The contortions as he thrust his hips upwards set Alex off in turn, and he blasted off while Eric was still shooting inside him. Jim, getting a huge mouthful of tasty cum, grabbed his cock and jerked it a few times before unloading over Eric’s thick hairy thighs. Hearing Jim groaning as he came was all incentive Steve needed, and he pulsed out his usual big load into Connor’s mouth. Connor, caught off guard, almost choked as he struggled to swallow the huge spurts of man cream. Denny groaned as Steve’s ass grabbed at his dick, squeezing it into a death grip, and Steve cried, “Go, Denny! Cum inside me!” A moment later, Denny creamed Steve’s hole, filling it up to overflowing. But Connor still hadn’t gotten off – and Steve still wanted more. Connor was stroking, just waiting for Denny to move out of the way. As soon as Denny slid out and stepped off, Connor took his place, sinking deep inside Steve’s ass. The hole was already sopping wet, and it took no time at all. Between Connor’s delight in sloppy seconds, and his disbelief that he was actually fucking the legendary Rod Rammer after sucking off his load, it took barely half a minute before he, too, blew up and fired another big wad of sperm into Steve’s clutching, demanding fuckhole. The moans and groans in the room gradually died away, the heavy breathing slowed down, and everyone slowly came down from their explosive peaks. It was Steve who first glanced at the clock by the bed and saw the time registered as 3:50 AM. He slid off Connor’s cock and stood up, a little shakily – the combined effects of earth-shaking sex, a vast quantity of alcohol, and the advancing years would not be denied. In a few moments, he and Denny had everyone pulled up, and at least partly covered by some of their costumes, and the four were ready to go back to their room. They thanked Eric and Connor for the great time, everyone kissed and hugged and wished everyone else a “Happy New Year,” and the boys headed out to their suite on the next floor up. Since they were right close to the stairs anyway, they walked up rather than waiting for the elevator. On the landing, they passed the badly-shredded remains of a Batman costume. Jim drily commented, “Someone isn’t getting back their security deposit on check-out.” Behind them, Eric was grumbling about “selfish fuck-and-run bastards. They didn’t even give me a chance to get my rocks off again.” Connor fell on the bed beside him, greased his ass up, and then rolled on his face. “Here you go, man.” “That’s some invitation from a guy who always claims to be a total top.” “I guess I just found out what I’d been missing. Come on, Eric, give me your load. Please?” “Well, since you asked so nicely….” Eric promptly mounted on top of Connor, sank his cock all the way inside the inviting dark cavern, and proceeded to fuck ass for ten minutes before dumping his second load of the night into his friend. When he finally slid out, a regular river of thick white spooge poured slowly down Connor’s taint and balls and onto the bed sheets. The two of them rolled into an embrace and passed out. Upstairs, the four weren’t lasting much longer. Costumes were arranged neatly in four piles, ready to be returned later that day, some quick and largely inefficient cleaning up took place in the bathroom, and inside of ten minutes the four of them were all dead to the world. At least, as Steve remarked in a wry voice the next morning, “we all wound up in the right bed this time.” All in all, as Alex said when they were flying home three days later, it was definitely the most memorable Christmas and New Year’s of his entire life – partly because it was the first time in decades that he’d been able to celebrate Christmas and New Year’s with his family. He went on, a bit sheepishly, “Of course, that New Year’s Eve party and all the hot sex afterwards didn’t do any harm either.” The others all agreed with him, on that last point in particular. They had one final night together in an airport hotel in Halifax. The next morning, all four of them were suffering from a severe case of post-Christmas letdown when it came time for Steve and Jim to fly home again. “I never missed you much before, all those years when we were out of touch, Alex, but now I can’t stand the thought of not seeing you and Denny again for who knows how many months.” “I feel exactly the same about missing you and Jim.” Hugs, kisses, and a few tears all around before Jim and Steve headed into the security area, while Alex and Denny turned away to go out to the parking lot and hit the road back to Exmouth. Not too long after Jim and Steve returned to California, something happened which took their minds completely off their midwinter blues. Steve got a text message from Laszlo, angling for a dinner invitation because he needed to talk. Steve crossed his fingers that maybe, just maybe, their young friend would feel ready to unburden himself to them, and that would give an opening to see what advice if any they might be able to share with him. They had him over on Saturday afternoon. Laszlo arrived at Jim and Steve’s condo at 4:00. They’d invited him to come for a swim before dinner, “that is,” Jim had said in a mock-serious voice, “if you’re not the kind of guy who finds it hard hanging around a pool with a bunch of good-looking gay boys all eyeing each other and touching each other and… and so on, and so on.” Over a long, leisurely dinner followed by another glass or two of wine, they spent a lot of time talking about what they’d all been up to, since they hadn’t seen each other for over a year. Steve simply had to share with Laszlo the whole incredible story of how he and Jim had stopped randomly at a B&B in Nova Scotia and found that his brother was half of the couple who owned it, not to mention that the business was running in the house where the brothers had grown up. Laszlo kept shaking his head in surprise at the sheer coincidence of the whole thing. Jim then picked up the story with their recent Christmas expedition and the New Year’s party. Laszlo told them about his exit from the porn business, his college courses, and all about his upcoming work term in a corporate office. Then, in a voice perhaps too elaborately casual, he mentioned his two vacations in Hawaii. Steve picked up on that right away. “Twice you went to Hawaii? Once I could understand but twice sounds suspicious. Some hot Hawaiian surfer boy hooked you when he bit your ass or let you bite his?” Jim laughed but Laszlo blushed as he replied. “Well, as a matter of fact… yes.” And just at that precise moment, his phone buzzed. “Oh, shit, it’s ten o’clock. Sorry about this.” And he clicked onto FaceTime. “Hi, Laszlo!” “Hello, my love.” Jim and Steve were looking at each other with their eyebrows arched a trifle. “Been having yourself a busy day up there?” “Yeah. I’m out at dinner right now and had coffee earlier with Marina.” “With Marina! I’ll be that was fun. And where exactly are you out to dinner? That painting behind you looks sort of familiar.” Steve leaned over and whispered something in Jim’s ear, and Jim’s eyes suddenly opened out along with his mouth like a trio of outsized Cheerios. “It should look familiar. Here, guys, come over and say hello to my new boyfriend.” As always, Daniel’s face blossomed into a shit-eating grin at that word. Jim and Steve got up and came over, as Laszlo turned his phone around so they could see the screen. Daniel laughed. “Well, will you look who turned up now?” Steve was the first to recover from the surprise. “Listen who’s talking. Daniel, where the hell are you, anyway? Everyone’s been wondering!” “For the moment, still in Hawaii, but I’ll be coming back before too much longer. As the plans fall into place, the happy guy holding the phone will be able to keep you up with the details.” Jim leaned a bit harder. “I want to know why the fuck you ran off on everyone without a hint of a goodbye.” Laszlo cringed slightly. Seeing that, Steve put a hand on Jim’s arm in a “back off” gesture. But Daniel wasn’t fazed. “Put it simply – I was frightened and confused by my feelings. Then the guy who was causing all those confusing and scary feelings came looking for me, he found me – with a bit of help from one of my friends down here – and we’re a couple now. And FaceTiming every night, except Laszlo didn’t tell me he was inviting everyone else to join in on the call this time.” And he gave a fake-irritated cough. Steve and Jim both laughed at that, and Laszlo decided to recover the phone so he could at least look at his man himself for a bit. “Daniel, one thing I can tell you, Marina was absolutely thrilled to hear the news. I’m waiting for a reaction from these two, they’re still in shock.” Steve recovered quickly. “Well, of course, I’m thrilled too! That’s the best news I’ve had all week, and I’m sure you two will make as good a couple as Jim and I do.” Jim coughed. “As good as?” “Well, almost.” They all laughed. Then Jim chimed in again. “It’s wonderful. I’m so happy for both of you. It’s easy to guess that you’ve both been having a rough time for the last year, so getting the chance to heal, and live, and love together is fantastic. Big hugs and kisses to everyone!” Laszlo reclaimed his phone. “There you go, Daniel. Anyone else you’d like me to tell while I’m at it?” “Umm… I don’t think you need to worry. If you’ve told Marina, and Jim and Steve, the news is going to be all over the WeHo gaydar by morning. I won’t specify exactly who will do the leaking.” Laszlo laughed uproariously, and quickly spun the phone around so Daniel could see Jim and Steve pointing accusingly at each other. After another minute of goodbyes, Laszlo clicked off. He then thanked his hosts for an awesome dinner, and left, but not until after getting some big hugs and kisses of congratulations. Steve in particular went to bed very happy that night, having had one huge dead weight of worry and concern lifted off his shoulders by this latest good news flash.

Chapter 13: Voyage of Discovery The shock waves triggered by Alex’s entrance were slow to dissipate. Both of the brothers were struggling to wrap their brains around the unlikely chain of chances which had brought them back into contact with each other, all these years later. It made for a slightly stilted conversation over drinks, and over the magnificent seafood meal. One thing Steve admitted readily was that his big brother had become a spectacular chef. Alex had a slight advantage in the digging and probing: he’d been able to follow Steve’s career in the public eye and had certainly done so. Once he’d gotten over that much earlier shock, he’d grown to be proud of “my brother, the big, B-I-I-I-G porn star.” Well, not just proud – if truth be told, he had to admit that he’d also found Steve’s career “hard” to ignore. He raised a big laugh over dinner, and broke through a lot of the tension, when he admitted that he’d indulged in a great deal of hands-on admiration of his kid brother’s work. After dinner, Denny offered to handle the clean-up so Alex and Steve could talk. Jim joined Denny in the kitchen, and the brothers were left alone in the common room. During the prolonged conversation that followed, Steve was able to find out all about the path Alex’s life had followed – the series of desultory relationships with both women and men during his years in the oil patch, then the moment when he met Denny after moving to the northern gold mine and lightning struck, the kind of lightning known as “love at first sight.” Denny was also a down east boy, from Cheticamp on Cape Breton Island, and had also grown up in a fisherman’s family. Together the two of them had decided to get out of mining work and they’d hatched the plan of returning to the east coast and going into the hospitality business. All this time, Alex had maintained tenuous contacts with a couple of friends from his school days. From them, he had learned the sad story of how the rest of the family had unravelled: their father’s growing rage and heavy drinking after his sons had left, the financial problems, the seizure of his prized lobster boat by the bank, and the tragic end when he was found dead on the rocks below the lighthouse, having fallen off the cliffs after a drinking binge. “And I didn’t feel a thing when I heard that,” Alex confessed. Steve nodded. He, too, felt as if the news was some anonymous tragedy he’d seen in the newspaper – sad, yes, but it didn’t touch him in any particular way beyond that. After their father’s death, their mother had sold the house and gone to live with a friend in Lawrason’s Harbour. And there she had lived until she died of cancer, some five years later, in a hospital in Halifax. The final step of Alex’s journey so far had come when he’d gotten word from a friend that his old family home was up for sale again, an estate sale this time. He and Denny had flown down to Nova Scotia, taken a good look, decided to put in a bid – and got it. Their first step was to apply for a land severance and sell the second house, using the funds to finance the expansion and upgrading. After that, it was a matter of time and work – “a lot of work, for both of us” – until the Seaview had opened for business. “We’ve been doing this for eight years now and we’re happier than I’ve ever been in my life before. And I can see that you are, too. Your man, Jim, must be some special to make you look that way after you were so unhappy as a kid.” It was Steve’s turn to share his life’s journey: the experiences of discovering himself, the steps by which he had eased his way into the adult entertainment world, and from there into the charmed inner circle of the Los Angeles porn industry, the strange way that his work had fulfilled his financial needs while stunting his emotional growth, the chance meeting with Jim, and all the changes which had flowed through his life from that meeting. “The odd thing is, I’ve also ended up in the hospitality business, but as an executive in a company which runs a string of restaurants and bars in West Hollywood and Santa Monica.” By now, they were completely at ease with each other. All the awkwardness had evaporated as the brothers had shared their truths, their vulnerabilities, their real selves in a way which they had never been able to do when younger. They talked on and on, deep into the night, right up to the point where Alex finally had to stand up, stretch, and yawn. “Haven’t seen Denny and Jim for a while.” They looked in the kitchen, which was dark and silent, the clock on the stove registering a time far past midnight. “Come on up this way.” He led Steve through the pantry and up the back stairs in the new wing, then quietly opened a door and peered in. “Yup. They wound up together. A sign, if I ever saw one.” He eased the door shut. Steve laid a hand on Alex’s arm, turning his big brother around to face him. “I was telling Jim a few days ago about the night we tried to do it together, and what a mess we made of it.” “We weren’t ready for that, were we? What about now? Do you think it’s the right time?” “I’m sure of it. Yes. It’s time.” Alex walked him through the connecting door into the public area, and along to the front bedroom. Once inside, Alex had a brief moment of uncertainty, before realizing that their husbands, by going to bed together, had given not just tacit assent but positive encouragement for them to do whatever they wanted, whatever they needed. The brothers undressed each other, slowly, carefully, taking their time even as both of them had become painfully erect in their boxers. Now they were embracing, much more gently than that first high-powered hug downstairs, a hug which seemed half a lifetime ago. After all the sharing they’d been doing, now they wanted to take their time, to savour the sensations, to make love to each other for the first time ever – but not like the romantic love which they each shared with their husbands. This encounter was to be about rebuilding the bond between them, the bond of the blood tie and of the shared experiences of their younger years. Tonight was to be the time that each of them received the precious gift of rediscovered family love from the other. They were surprised to find that their boxers had disappeared somewhere along the line, leaving them fully open to each other. Alex stepped back a pace. “Let me see you,” were his only words. Now they were absorbing the sight of each other, building the mental picture of this amazing moment which would stay with them both from this day on. Steve extended his hand, took Alex’s hand in his, and led his brother to the bed. They lay down side by side and turned to face each other, kissing with gentle insistence while their erect cocks duelled between them. Then Steve twisted around until his head was facing Alex’s rigid dick. He opened his lips and took his brother’s manhood into his mouth. As he did so, he felt Alex’s lips brushing his own shaft and slowly sliding down over the head and onto the shaft. They continued the slow, quiet sixty-nine for a long, ecstatic period. Neither of them wanted to rush any of this. Finally, Steve had to gently nudge Alex up and away. How ironic that the professional expert of the delayed orgasm was actually the first, on this night of nights, to feel the urge to cum rising in him. But there was something else that he wanted, something he needed even more before he needed to cum. Steve swung back around to embrace Alex, first kissing him and then murmuring in his ear. “I want to feel you inside me, Alex. I want you to give me your cock in my ass and I want to feel you cumming inside me.” Alex was startled. Of course, what he knew about Steve’s sex life was what he had seen in half a hundred sex scenes on video. “I thought you would want to give yours to me.” Steve chuckled. He knew exactly what Alex meant. “No, Alex. That was what I did professionally, what the industry wanted. Tonight I’m asking you to do this because it’s what I want, what I need you to give me.” Alex nodded his understanding. This was the sexual action which hadn’t worked out well in their first encounter. Tonight, now that they were fully experienced and ready to be open with each other, they would return to that act and make sheer magic with it. Steve set the scene by rolling onto his back and lifting his legs back over his shoulders. Alex got up onto his knees, moved into position, and leaned down to start kissing Steve’s hole, then licking up and down the crack and over his ass lips, and finally pushing with his tongue until he had opened his brother up and slid his tongue inside. As he worked his tongue in and out, he brought up and introduced a finger into the action, allowing Steve to feel his hole being gently penetrated and massaged. It mattered so much to Alex to make this moment perfect for Steve, who wanted it from him so badly. At last, it was time. Steve’s hole had bloomed, twitching as it opened and closed around Alex’s fingers. Alex withdrew his hand, added a generous amount of spit to his hand and spread it onto his rampant eight-inch cock, and then moved the head into position and began to lean. He took his time, increasing the pressure bit by bit until Steve’s hole opened and he slid inside. It didn’t even surprise him that Steve took him so easily, took him all the way in one slow gentle slide until his entire cock had disappeared inside his brother’s ass tunnel. Alex laid his body right down on top of Steve, pressing their lips together again as he felt Steve’s ass starting to work on his cock. They kissed nonstop, tongues lashing around each other, as Alex began to move in and out, slowly at first but gradually gaining speed. Steve worked his ass muscles on Alex’s hard dick with all the skill he could muster, wanting this experience to be as great for his brother as his brother was making it for him. Both of them were now fully ready to go for the finish line, bringing their encounter to a rousing finale. Alex was revving the speed higher and higher, slamming down hard into Steve’s willing ass with repeated loud slapping sounds. Steve was moaning aloud, urging him on with repeated cries of “Yes… yes… yes!” This fuck was giving him such a ride as he could only compare to that awesome first time Jim had fucked him years earlier. And he wanted his reward. “Alex… do it… give it to me… cum inside me….” “I’m going to cum, Steve… going to give you my load… breed you deep….” A few more exuberant thrusts, and he slammed down hard onto Steve’s ass, crying “Yessss!” as he jammed his cock all the way in and exploded deep in his brother’s hole. Steve let out a wordless cry of triumph as he felt the cream filling him, soaking his gut, squeezing out around the cock that was breeding him. And without even touching himself, he came too, blasting a fountain of cum that looked like he’d been saving it up for a week. It sprayed all over Alex’s chest, dripping down onto Steve’s body underneath as they took each other right through the climax with their mouths still locked together, expressing their feelings in every way they could. Half an hour later, they were still holding each other close. Alex had slipped out of Steve’s ass, Steve had licked his cock clean, and they had rolled onto their sides, but they remained united in their close embrace. It was Alex who finally put the feeling into words. “Steve, getting to know you again has been so amazing. Finding my brother and drawing him back into my life – it’s such a gift. I know our lives will still keep moving along their different paths, but let’s not lose each other this time like we did before. Deal?” “Deal.” And after a few more kisses, they fell asleep, still locked in each other’s arms. In the morning, Denny found himself in the unusual position of having to cook breakfast for one of his guests as the other guest and the chef were nowhere to be seen. Jim was getting a little antsy as he always did when travel arrangements were in question. “Denny, remind me, what’s the check out time?” “Not today, I hope!” “Well, we were going to be heading on to Halifax today and….” “Jim, you have to change your plans – you have to. You saw those two last night, when we looked in on them before we went off to bed. You could tell how much good it was doing both of them to get back in touch with each other, to share their experiences, to reunite their family. Don’t tell me you want to upset the apple cart just because of your planned schedule. Travel plans can be changed.” “Well, how long are you hoping we can stay?” “You’re good until Friday morning. I’m sure we’d both love to have you here longer, but we’re fully booked for the weekend. Please tell me you can do those two extra nights, anyway. And I’ll hang out the NO VACANCY sign, so we can keep it private and all in the family. Steve and Alfie – it’ll do both of them a world of good to have more time together.” “Including the kind of togetherness we assume they had last night?” Jim threw in, with a laugh. “I sure hope they did. Isn’t that what we expected and hoped they would do when we went off to bed together?” “Now that you mention it….” They both laughed, and then Jim sat down at the kitchen table as Denny dished up the eggs, bacon, potatoes, toasted artisan bread, and fresh fruit salad before pouring the coffee. Jim had to admit that the idea was attractive. His overall plan for the trip had been a little on the ambitious side, and an “enforced” rest period of two more days would do none of them any harm. After they’d finished breakfast, and Denny had poured more coffee, he went outside to hang out the sign while Jim got busy on his phone and began changing reservations, rearranging the events of the rest of the trip into a different order and moving the date of their flight home to accommodate the other changes. Just as he was working on the final steps of that process, the door opened and Steve walked in, followed by Alex, with both of them still looking a bit sleepy. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty and his Prince Charming.” Jim’s innate sarcasm never went on holiday for very long. “But which one is which?” Denny picked up the thread quickly enough. “Okay, you guys, where’s the coffee hiding? After some of that, I’ll be prepared to trade smartass jabs with you as much as you want.” Alex was plainly running on not enough sleep. Steve laughed. “Coffee first, snappy comebacks later.” After they’d gotten their coffee, and while Denny went back on duty at the stove, Steve asked Jim, “What time did you want to get on the road?” Jim noted the rapid play of expressions across Alex’s face and knew that Denny had read the situation accurately. “We’re not going, Steve. We’re staying on here, for a couple more nights, anyway.” Steve’s smile of boundless gratitude, the joy as he kissed his husband and thanked him, confirmed that Jim’s decision was indeed the right choice. Alex came over to hug and kiss Jim too. “Thank you, Jim. I’m so thankful that you can stay here with us for a bit longer.” The magic continued to hover over the Seaview B&B for the next two days. The unseasonal sunny, warm weather continued without a let-up. Steve and Alex enjoyed a post-breakfast cup of coffee on the balcony of the front room, while Denny and Jim sat out on the covered terrace below them. Long conversations, beautiful meals, a scenic drive to a broad beach at a provincial park half an hour away where they enjoyed a long walk on the sand, walks around the local area, a scramble up a rocky hill just down the coastline, a general feeling of contentment in the air, all went to make the entire experience one of the most memorable times in the lives of all four of them. It had become plain that they were now well on their way to regarding themselves as a family of four, and that was a treasurable feeling for Jim and Denny as much as for Alex and Steve. Best of all, from Jim’s point of view, was the way that Steve now felt completely at ease with this kinder, loving outcome, after years of wrestling in his heart and mind with the hate-driven disintegration of his family. They’d come so he could seek some healing, and he’d found it – no question. But then, alas, it was Friday morning, and time to pack up and go. None of the four had ever liked long goodbyes, and the checkout time was set at 11:00, but on this day it was time to make some exceptions to the rules. Denny explained it this way: “We can always put off dealing with cleaning the room until after lunch. It will get done quickly if Alfie gives me a hand with it.” One last quick meal of homemade soup and herbed bread, and it was time for Steve and Jim to hit the road. With heartfelt thanks, hugs, and kisses, Denny and Alex saw them on their way towards Halifax. As their car vanished down the winding road towards Upper East Exmouth, Alex sighed. “I hope it won’t be too long before we can see them again. It’s been such an incredible few days.” Denny gave him another long hug. “Well, you’ve still got me in the meantime. Come on, Alfie, let’s tackle that room before our weekend guests start arriving.” In the car, Steve had gone silent again. “Everything okay?” Jim asked him. “No. It’s a lot more than just okay. I got so much weight lifted off my back this week, and I feel lighter than I’ve felt since you and I first met. Happy camper barely begins to describe it. We need to find a way to spend time with them again, and sooner rather than later.” “You’ll get no argument from me on that one,” Jim said. “Hah! You’re just saying that because you got to have some fun with Denny, and I didn’t!” “Who said I had fun with Denny?” “When we were going up to bed that first night, Alex looked into their bedroom and said, ‘Yup, they wound up together,’ and that obviously meant that… that….” “Precisely. We ended up together. That’s all it meant.” “Okay, Jim, since you’re determined to be difficult. Did you have sex with Denny?” “Well, you obviously think I did, but I’m not the kind of guy to kiss and tell, so you are never, ever going to know for sure.” The smug grin on Jim’s face expressed the answer, plain for the eye to see. “Never say never, Jim.” They both laughed at that. “By the way, how much did all of that cost us?” “It didn’t. When I wanted to settle the bill, Denny just ripped it up. He said he couldn’t charge family for coming to visit.” Steve sighed happily. The rest of the trip unfolded with Steve perennially enveloped in a joyful haze of recollection. As they travelled east, as they devoted two days to the amazing scenery around the Cabot Trail, as they enjoyed unusually calm weather and fresh sea air on the overnight ferry crossing to Argentia, a good part of his mind was back in the past, reliving those wonderful days at the Seaview. Even the hilarity of watching Jim get properly Screeched in at a pub on Water Street in St. John’s couldn’t top the impact of their unique and special time with his brother and brother-in-law. Finally, after the long drive across the island of Newfoundland and some more top-notch hiking and scenic marvels in Gros Morne National Park, they returned to Nova Scotia by the shorter ferry route from Port aux Basques, and drove down the highway to Halifax, where they turned in their rental car and checked in for their flight home. Landing back in Los Angeles, they quickly procured an Uber and got driven back to their condo. It was only after they’d arrived that Steve remembered to switch off the flight mode on his phone, and it promptly filled up with notifications – among which was a message marked “Urgent.” It simply said, “Check your voice mail – important.” He punched in the voice mail code, listened to the message, and then hastily returned the call. Jim watched, anxiously, as it was plainly a serious issue. Jim spent the next 5 minutes listening to one of those maddening one-sided conversations, where long pauses are interrupted only by telegraphic statements that tell you less than nothing. “What’s the big emergency?... Oh, sorry – it’s a real emergency, is it?... No, I’ve heard nothing – but I’ve been away on holiday… No, nobody’s contacted me… An accident?....” There followed a long silent pause. “I see… No word since then… How long ago?...” A much longer silent break. Then: “Sounds like it’s a major change of direction… Yes, of course I’ll let you know at once… Okay – and you take care of yourself too. Bye.” Steve finally clicked off the call and turned to him with a solemn face. “Jim, it’s Daniel – you know, the Hawaiian Nine – well, he’s vanished.”

Chapter 12: The Trip of a Lifetime In the weeks after the wedding, life slowly settled back into an even groove. Taking advantage of their newlywed status, Jim and Steve took a few weeks just to themselves, to devote more time and attention to their personal relationship after all the hectic activity of the trip to Spain, the awards ceremony, the filming gig in Sitges, the surprise engagement there, and then shortly after that the surprise wedding weekend back home in southern California. They did no travelling during that time, other than a weekend when they did a quick side jaunt by train down to San Diego, staying in a harbourfront hotel, and walking around to explore a new and different environment. About a month after the wedding, they decided to host one final party in their condo. They’d gotten wind of an estate sale of a condo in the same building as the palace which Alan lived in, and even though it wasn’t a luxury penthouse, it was more spacious than their current place and had a much nicer view, facing north towards the mountains. They put in a bid, had it accepted, and were shortly preparing to move house. The party they organized was a come-and-go open house on a Sunday afternoon from 3:00 until 7:00. They decided to make their lives simple, so they had the event catered and hired a professional bartender – which freed them up to concentrate on socializing with their guests. It was a wild afternoon, even though no sex was involved. There was no room. The condo was so packed with guys that nobody would have had any space to get into any shenanigans. Every bit of furniture had men sitting on it, every inch of the master bathroom was full of guys standing and talking, the balcony was chock-a-block with gay boys of every description. Ziggy stood guard to ensure that the small washroom off the entrance remained free for its intended purpose. The caterer had blocked off the doors to create a fortress in the kitchen where no one could intrude, and the bartender was running the bar over the table in the doorway of the kitchen closest to the refrigerator. Rather than people coming to the food table to help themselves, the ones closest to the table were seizing platters as they came out of the kitchen and passing them around over their heads to the rest of the crowd, while the guys nearest to the other door were doing the same with cans of beer and glasses of wine. Up until 6:30 or so, every time two guys left, five more came in. Finally, though, the crowd began making a determined effort to get out of the way, largely because the bar ran dry at last. The caterer had to close up shop for the same reason twenty minutes later. Even with that double incentive, it was close to 8:30 before the last of the guests finally said their goodbyes and left. As it happened, those final guests were Ziggy, and Alan (with Leo). Ziggy grinned ironically as he hugged and kissed Steve and Jim on his way out the door. “The way the whole community showed up, you’d think you guys were moving out of the country, not just a few blocks down the street!” Alan had a small bone to pick. “Just down the street? I hadn’t heard any of this. When I overheard someone talking about you leaving, I thought they meant you were leaving town!” “Farthest thing from it, Alan. They’re actually moving into your building.” At that, Alan smiled broadly, and Leo suddenly came back from wherever his mind had drifted and gave the conversation his full attention. Alan promptly invited them to come for dinner. “Let me know when you’re getting close to moving and you’ve had to pack up your kitchen, and you can come and have dinner with us. Or, if you prefer, after you’ve moved in, and you’re still stuck with the unpacking job to do.” Leo put his hand on Alan’s sleeve, his face radiating sexual eagerness. “Is there any reason why we couldn’t do both, daddy?” Steve promptly agreed. “That sounds like the best idea yet.” He hadn’t forgotten how much he’d enjoyed getting bred by Leo. Jim elbowed him. “What, Jim?” Steve was worried that he might have overstepped the mark. Jim, though, had a huge salacious grin plastered across his face and couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Alan smiled again, as much at the byplay between Jim and Steve as at his boy’s enthusiasm. “It would be no trouble as all to do both. Just keep me posted.” Once the mess from the party was cleaned up, they set to work on the packing and pitching operation. Like any sensible couple getting ready to move, they agreed in advance that it would be an excellent opportunity to get rid of a lot of unnecessary junk. Like any sensible couple, they then showed great reluctance to part with any of their own prized possessions while being full of suggestions about things which their partner could well do without. Each day, though, they made more progress towards their goal, as the number of packed boxes mounted to the ceiling while multiple green bags were heaved onto the elevator and dragged out to the dumpster. The big move was set for a Monday morning, and on Saturday they applied themselves to packing up the kitchen, having first of all asked Alan if they could wangle a dinner invitation for that night. “Of course, we’d love to have you. You must be working really hard over there. What about coming for a three o’clock swim first?” Remembering their previous adventures, they agreed that this would be a great plan. Leo greeted them at the door when they arrived, already dressed down to a slender G-string brief swimsuit and with his cock suspiciously lifting the waistband. He welcomed them with a kiss and a grope each, before showing them to a guest room to change. As they went, he explained that Alan had gotten an unexpected business call from Zurich, but he would join them as soon as he had finished. “Zurich?” Steve mused after Leo left them. “Sounds like he’s talking to his confidential banker.” “Who knows?” Jim replied. “But one thing’s for sure, he’s about the only man I’ve ever met who would have a need for that level of service.” “Any idea how much money we’d be talking about?” “Steve, I don’t think anyone knows that except Alan.” He thought for a moment, before adding, “And his confidential banker. But rumour consistently pins the total at well into the nine-figure range, at least.” By this time, they had their swimsuits pulled on, with shirts over and sandals on feet, and were ready to head down to the pool with Leo. Jim in particular had trouble controlling himself as he watched Leo’s sexy ass twitching and rolling down the hall in front of him, with very little of it actually covered by the narrow triangular back of his suit. But even Steve was surprised to realize that he was getting turned on by the sight too. After so many years of yearning for older men to breed him, it was a novel sensation to find himself attracted to a young twink’s butt for a change. It only served to highlight the reality that he and Jim were now moving into their “daddy years” – although since they took such great care of themselves, it would be a long while yet before they had to become “grampas” in the eyes of the gay community. As they emerged onto the pool deck, Leo zeroed in on a group of four free loungers and made a quick beeline to grab them. He stretched out on one of the middle pair of the group, lying face down and giving his enticing butt a few luxurious rolls and wiggles and twitches to get settled into the most comfortable position. Jim and Steve exchanged a grin and Jim winked. Yes, Leo’s rear-view gaydar had caught on to the fact that the older guys were scoping him out as they walked through the halls. Steve and Jim promptly settled themselves on either side of Leo, taking a hint from his choice of location, and then tugged their loungers closer so that both were within easy reach of that enticing young ass between them. The other men lounging around the pool terrace were grinning too, understanding the exact meaning of this little scene. Only a rank newcomer could have missed the fact that Alan and his boy were hosting dinner guests again, and that said guests were expected to breed the multi-millionaire’s personal boy (but only if they wished to, of course) either before or after dinner – or both. After twenty minutes or so, Jim made the first move to the pool, standing up and diving neatly into the water. Leo went next, not quite as graceful, but not bad. Jim promptly began giving him some pointers dating back to his high-school swimming days. Then he said to Leo, “Okay, now watch how Steve does it.” Steve’s dive in was the kind where two legs, two arms, and the head appear to be moving in five different directions. He vanished into the water with an enormous splash and came up to find Jim and Leo roaring with laughter. He swam over to them and said, “Okay, fine, Jim. So my diving is pathetic. Don’t get me started on endurance in the bedroom.” Jim knew enough to quit while he was ahead – he’d had nothing like Steve’s expertise in that field, in particular with the fine art of delaying the inevitable. Leo, though, was even more intrigued. He moved closer to Steve, looked into his eyes, and murmured, “Got any helpful hints? I could use some tricks in that line.” As he said that, his hand stretched out under the water and grasped Steve’s bulge, massaging it with gentle squeezing motions. By now, everyone in and around the pool was paying avid attention to see what would happen next. It was at this point that Alan strolled out onto the pool deck, stripped off his tank top, and dived into the pool with a grace which put all of the other three to shame (Is there anything that Alan doesn’t do well? was Jim’s thought). Alan surfaced and swam over to his guests. “Hi, Daddy!” Leo’s bright smile was met with an equally broad grin from Alan. He, of course, had already detected the location of Leo’s other hand – and the tinge of red mounting in Steve’s cheeks. Leo released Steve’s growing discomfort and turned to give Alan a big kiss. Steve moved over to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Don’t worry about it. This is exactly what Alan wants to see happening.” The four of them spent a few more minutes splashing around in the water, but with hands being kept under better control. The crowd’s attention wavered as it became clear that this act of the show, at least, was now over. In due time, the four climbed out of the pool, towelled off, and then headed back into the building. As soon as the last one vanished through the door, a buzz of excited conversation erupted behind them. Steve was the only one bothered by it, because he was going to be the newbie in the building very soon. Jim just shrugged it off, as he did most attention that came his way. Leo was happy because he sensed that today Steve would be breeding him, rather than the other way around. And Alan was happy to see his boy feeling that way, because it meant a more enjoyable night for him. Once they got back to the penthouse, and hung up their wet swimsuits, Leo got down on all fours and set right to work on Steve’s big tool, even though it still challenged him as it grew in his throat. Meanwhile, behind him, Alan had also knelt down and was eating Leo’s ass with a good deal of energy, getting it ready. Jim stood beside Steve, kissing him with passion as his own cock swelled up into full erection. After he slapped it on Leo’s face a couple of times, Leo began going back and forth between the two slabs of meat, sucking and licking on each one in turn as he moaned aloud from the sensations of having his ass eaten at the same time. Alan sat back and started working his finger into Leo’s now-wet hole. Leo went with instinct, beginning to rotate his muscular cheeks around Alan’s probing hand. Leo was still working on Steve’s massive hammer, but Jim had now dropped down to his knees and planted his face deep inside Steve’s muscular ass, licking, kissing, sucking, and probing with his fingers. Steve and Leo were both in total ecstasy at getting the works from these experts. Alan looked up. “Leo wants some cock in his ass. Who’d like to go first? Jim, you can warm him up before he tries to take Steve’s piece.” “Good plan.” Jim stood up, stepped over and climbed onto the bed behind Leo, and proceeded to stroke some lube onto his cock before placing it against the younger guy’s hole. Leo’s body wasn’t precisely boy-like, with more prominent muscles than most twink boys, but his squirming and panting as he tried to force himself back onto Jim’s cock were the genuine article. At last, Jim decided to give him what he wanted so badly and gave a determined push. Leo’s hot ass opened right up and practically sucked him in, and Jim sank all the way to the bottom on the first entry. “Wow, Leo, you really want it today, don’t you?” “I do. I want it. Give it to me! Fuck me deep and hard.” With that encouragement, Jim sank himself down onto Leo’s back and began humping, heaving his hips up and down as he drove it in and pulled it out, all while feeling Leo’s muscles flexing repeatedly under his assault. Alan, wanting to be a hospitable host, called Steve over to him, saying, “I’ll keep that warmed up for you until Jim lets you have a turn.” He then opened his mouth and took Steve’s enormous cock in, doing his best to get it all inside. Alan was an experienced and virtuoso cocksucker, no doubt, but it was years since he had tackled one this big and the strain soon began getting to him. But he kept working, and Steve kept up a stream of encouraging exclamations as Jim’s breathing grew loud and harsh. Alan stopped sucking on Steve, and the two of them turned to watch as Jim, now moving with the strength of a piledriver, pushed himself over the edge and erupted at full force, blasting his volcano of hot sperm lava as deep inside Leo’s ass as he could get it. At last his waves of orgasm died away, and he pulled out. As soon as he did, Leo reared up on all fours, grasped his own dick, and with half a dozen rapid yanks pulled a load up and out, spurting his spooge all over the bed. Before he could collapse, Steve was right there, slapping his ass and issuing orders in his best “in command” voice. “On your back, boy. Time for you to get your next load – right now.” Leo obediently rolled onto his back and lifted his legs up. Steve grabbed them, forcing them farther back until Leo’s ankles were behind his ears and his body was folded double. It was sheer instinct on his part, but Steve was fully aware of his own actions, as he set out to recreate with this hot young man one of his favourite moments from his porn career – the face to face part of the heavy-duty breeding he’d given the Hawaiian Nine in their first scene together. Steve locked eyes with Leo as he aimed his cock at Leo’s hole, now gaping a bit, and pushed slowly in, pushing and pushing until he’d sunk about 10 of his 13 inches into the tight muscle hole. Steve’s meat was so thick that it made even this gaping ass feel tight again. Leo struggled to hang on as the huge tool split him slowly in two, his legs flopping even farther out to either side as his cheeks rose into the air – until something shifted inside him, the enormous cock pushed the rest of the way in, and there he was with the entire length of the legendary Rammer embedded inside his tortured ass. It was easy to see that both of them were feeling absolutely incredible, Leo with the joy of the total bottom taking the biggest dick of his life, and Steve because it was such a rare treat for him to be able to sink his entire meat into anyone’s ass. He leaned down and began to kiss Leo as he moved his hips, sliding out and back in slowly to begin with, but gradually adding on speed. Leo wrapped his arms around Steve’s chest, pulling him in close, as he did his best to work his ass muscles on that immense slab of man meat. It was the first time in years that Steve had felt this kind of closeness, this unity, with a man who wasn’t Jim. Leo was completely in sync with him, their bodies moving as one, their mouths locked together, their chests rubbing against each other, and it was plain that neither of them was going to hang on for much longer. Steve was rising to his peak, and he was more than ready to flood Leo’s ass, while Leo was on the verge of another orgasm, the thrill of the fuck pulling a second load of his sperm into the firing position. He knew that Steve was going to fuck the cum right out of him and he wouldn’t even need to grab his own dick. Steve gasped for air, and then shouted, “Fucking cumming! Gonna breed your hot slutty hole!” “Fuck, yeah! Dump that huge load into my guts!” Steve locked up suddenly against Leo’s hips, his cock twitching and thrashing like a mad thing inside Leo’s ass as his load sprayed out in a series of big bolts of cream. Leo was grabbing at Steve with his ass muscles, and then suddenly they went slack before contracting again and again as his own load shot out all over their bodies. Steve eased his way out of Leo’s ass, and immediately a wave of cum began to pour out. “Leo, close your hole, you’re going to lose it all!” “I can’t, Steve. You jammed it too far open for that.” Alan laughed aloud at those words. “On it, my boy.” In seconds he had taken Steve’s place, using his rigid cock to scoop up the errant slime and then force it all back inside where he could add to the treasure. Jim watched for a moment at the blissful expression on Alan’s face as he slid into that cum-filled boy ass, loving the sensation of all that hot cream washing over his cock as he began to fuck his boy, getting ready to add another load into his ass. Jim suddenly realized that he was rock hard again he and needed to find a place for his second load – and the place was right at hand. “Steve, get down on your face.” Steve grinned, as he lay next to Leo and spread his legs apart. Jim mounted on top of him, pressing his greasy cock downwards until he entered Steve’s tight, welcoming ass. It was Steve’s turn to get a blissed-out expression spreading all across his face as his ass was rewarded with a deep fucking from his own man, his Jim, making love to him even as they shared a bed with two other men doing the same thing together. Jim always loved to move his head down over Steve’s shoulder so Steve could turn his face to the side, letting them share kisses while Jim worked him over from behind. It didn’t take long – but then, what is time when you’re sharing the moment with the person you love more than anyone else you’ve ever met? Steve and Jim didn’t even notice that Alan had stopped moving on Leo, that the two of them were watching while Jim took Steve all the way to the moon and the stars, finally erupting inside at the same moment as Steve came underneath himself, dropping another pool of man cream onto the bed sheets. After that, they rolled onto their sides, cuddling and kissing as Jim spooned Steve, while Alan belatedly returned his attention to Leo and finally pumped the third load of the day inside his boy’s hole. On the Friday at the end of the week, Steve and Jim had both taken leave of absence from their jobs to supervise the big move. It was a lengthy, tiring day, to say the least, but by the end of daylight hours they had all their furniture in place, the bed made up, and they had even made a start at unpacking the kitchen essentials. Not that either of them were interested in cooking. This was a night to go out and celebrate, and they did that, having a really good dinner in one of the restaurants down by the ocean before coming home and collapsing into a prolonged, exhausted sleep. The following night they were invited by Alan again and this time they were able to get there in less than a minute, just by taking the elevator up to the top floor of the building. But they begged off any additional entertainment due to fatigue, contenting themselves with simply enjoying drinks and dinner – much to Leo’s disgust. Five months later, they departed for their trip to the east coast. As their flight to Boston soared eastwards across the country, both of them were catching up on lost sleep. After they reached Boston and checked into their hotel, Steve began giving Jim a rundown on the cast of characters in his life story. First and foremost was Calum, since they were having dinner with him and his husband the next night. “You know, Steve, you just might be the first person I’ve ever met who stayed in contact with his first-timer for his entire life. A lot of us would rather forget that first time.” “I got lucky. It was a good experience, in more ways than one. The turn of my luck, the start of my escape, the moment when I stopped merely existing and began to live – just check ‘All of the above’. Then, when I made it back to Boston a year or two later, Calum helped me to get on my feet and start to make things happen in my life. Until then, I’d always been waiting for them to happen to me. He met his husband, Shaun, about seven years ago. I’d have gone to the wedding, but they did an improv wedding on the spur of the moment, kind of like ours.” Jim had already asked Steve about his family long before. But Steve had been and remained reluctant to talk much about his family. In his heart of hearts, he was hoping that both of his parents were dead. Jim – who’d only gotten a shortened, condensed version of what had happened at Steve’s home – couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. But that still left another character unaccounted for. “Steve, I remember what you told me about your family and your parents. Now that I think about it, there’s someone else you don’t talk about at all – your brother. What’s the story there? Do you still keep in touch?” “The story about Alex. Hmm. Well, he’s four years older than me. When we were young, he was much more outgoing and athletic, so of course he was more popular. I used to drool over him whenever I saw him with his clothes off. He was such a stud.” “Did you ever play with him?” “Jim, why did I know that you were going to go there?” They both laughed. “Yes – just once, and it shocked me. It was just after that weekend when we’d come on a family trip here to Boston – and I’d met Calum at the bar. Alex told me that he’d seen us kissing goodnight outside the bar, and that’s when he said that he wished he’d had the nerve to go in there himself. One thing led to another. But it wasn’t a good experience. Trying to coach someone through their first time when you’re only on your second time is not a great idea. He’d figured out that he was bi, anyway, and we just chalked it up to experience and left it at that. He backed me up when our dad tried to deck me, and when we left together, he agreed with me about changing our names – although he stuck with his original first name, Alexander. I hated both of mine anyway, so I changed both of them.” “So what was your original or birth name?” “What, I never told you before?” Jim shook his head solemnly. “I believe you. Trust me, once you’ve heard it, you won’t forget it in a hurry.” “And?” “My birth name was Adrian Pennyfather. Come to think of it, I haven’t met anyone who knows that for about the last twenty years.” “Hell of a name for someone to hang on their kid.” “Right – but the real reason for the name change was that neither of us wanted to go through life still linked by that surname to our dear old dad.” The last words came out with bitter emphasis, in a cutting, ironic sneer. “Alex went off to the Alberta oil fields, then from there to a gold mine in the tundra of the Northwest Territories. We kept in touch for a while, by phone and messages, but gradually those got shorter and shorter and finally stopped altogether. I don’t blame either of us. It just happened that way. The remains of our family ties weren’t a strong enough link to keep us connected.” Steve sighed. At that point, Jim pulled him in for some serious cuddling, stopping the interrogation. Dinner the following night with Calum and Shaun was a light-hearted occasion. It could have been a contender for the World’s Most Awkward Blind Date, except that nobody got a severe and sudden case of the hots for anyone else. Before long, Calum and Steve had their husbands and each other in howls of laughter with their highly-coloured and dramatic account of The Night We First Met. From there they proceeded to the year of Steve’s return to Boston, and Calum’s painful infatuation with Steve’s personal trainer, Owen: “I could never get a foot in the door with him as long as you were around. Never saw such a hot muscle stud who was nothing but a total pussy boy size queen. Even when I finally did get him in bed, after you left town, all he could do was moan and groan about how much he missed your – as he put it – most prominent feature.” Calum gave out a mock sigh of frustration while all the others rolled on the sofas in hysteria. It was another story altogether when Steve and Jim landed in Nova Scotia. Coming across on the high speed catamaran ferry from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth, they’d enjoyed some good down east food and Nova Scotia wine, but Steve had been getting quieter as the trip went on – and even more so during their evening at a hotel in Yarmouth. They took their time getting going the next day, a bright and sunny Tuesday morning, for the drive up the old coastal road to Halifax. Steve had insisted that they had to get off the fast modern highway and onto the original road which turned and twisted its way through every village and hamlet and fishing cove along the way. Jim could feel the tension building in Steve as the miles ticked by; he grew more and more silent as the territory became more familiar. It was early afternoon before he spoke – and then it was just one sentence: “This is it.” They were passing the road sign which identified “Lower West Exmouth”. Jim slowed down, peering about curiously as they meandered through the village, a scattered assortment of clapboard houses wide-spread across the rocky hummocks, some weathered grey, but most painted in white with the occasional sky blue, light grey, or pale green. With no discernable break in the community, they passed another sign which read “Exmouth”. “What are we looking for, Steve?” “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure.” Just as Jim was thinking that this wasn’t very helpful, he spotted a sign which made him jam on the brakes and pull off into a small parking area. The big, colourful signboard flanked by rainbow flags made a good match with the brightly painted house beyond it, standing out from the village’s norm of subtle colours in the most noticeable way. SEAVIEW BED & BREAKFAST WE WELCOME EVERYONE! DINNER ALSO AVAILABLE ON REQUEST ____ VACANCY Jim chuckled. “I didn’t expect to see that out here, judging by what you told me.” Steve, though, just stared at the sign and the house and said nothing. “Steve? Steve, what is it?” Finally, the answer came, in a small, barely audible voice. “Adrian Pennyfather comes home.” “Okay. And…?” “Jim, that house was my old family home.” It was Jim’s turn to mutter a silent “wow”. But his surprise lasted only for a moment. The door of the house had opened, and a man about the same age as them was coming two at a time down the steps towards them. Jim got out of the car. In a hearty voice, he greeted them: “Hi, fellows! Welcome to Exmouth! What can I do for you?” “Well, we just stopped to look. Kind of an unexpected sight.” The man laughed. “Yeah, we found out about that when we opened this B & B, gone eight years now. But it’s all good these days. Folks around here are used to us, and just treat us the same as anyone else in the community. I’ve heard all about how intolerant it used to be, but the place seems to have changed a lot with time. By the way, I’m Denny.” “Jim. And my husband, Steve.” Steve had finally gotten out of the car to come around and say hello. But it was plain that he was still feeling the shock. However, he recovered quickly. “So, Denny, how much would it cost for dinner, bed and breakfast for us?” Suitable terms were quickly reached, and they grabbed their bags and headed in. Once Jim had completed the paperwork (“damn government bureaucrats,” their host had grumbled), Denny led them upstairs to the best room in the house. Steve had already noticed from outside that a balcony had been added to the front, replacing the original front porch roof, with two chairs and a table out on the balcony overlooking the fishing harbour. “I’ll just leave you here to get settled in. What time would you like dinner?” “Would six o’clock be okay?” Denny smiled. “Perfect. It’s our usual time anyway.” Jim wasn’t sure what made him ask the next question, but out it came anyway. “Denny, when do we get to meet your other half?” Denny laughed again. “At dinner. As the resident chef, he’ll be slaving away in the kitchen until then. Come on downstairs at about 5:30, and we can have a drink together before we eat, if that’s agreeable.” With that, he withdrew. Steve nosed around the room, finding the beautiful ensuite bathroom added onto the back. He wondered what the lower floor held in this extension of the original house. He then pushed open the sliding glass door, stepped out onto the balcony, and settled into one of the chairs. Jim joined him there and studied him carefully. Steve had a far-away look on his face, and Jim was sure that he was going back in memory to relive his childhood. “Is this really weird for you, Steve?” “I’ll say. This (with a gesture back through the glass door) was my parents’ room, and we were told in no uncertain terms that it was strictly off limits. But there was no ensuite at the back, and no balcony here. These guys have really expanded and upgraded the old house.” “And your room?” “Across the hall and down towards the back. I wonder if they’ve expanded that one too? It was pretty cramped when Alex and I shared it. The other smaller front room was for guests, and my grandmother would stay there when she came to visit from Glace Bay.” “If you felt weird, Steve, why did you want to stay?” “I guess, seizing the day and making use of the opportunity to clear the negative memories of this place out of my system. At least, it’s a beautiful sunny day, and that can be rare here – fog is more the usual thing. Warm, too, for this time of year. What do you say we take a walk down by the fishing harbour?” They sauntered down the winding gravel road, a steep twisting hill, and then walked quietly along behind the collection of old net sheds along the edge of the water. “This one was my dad’s. He always kept his herring boat tied up to the wharf here and anchored his lobster boat off away, over t’other side of the bay.” “Off away? T’other side? Steve, I’ve never heard you talk like that!” “It’s from being back here, it’s just rubbing off on me. Or, no, more like pushing aside everything else that I’ve added on since I left.” As he spoke, they were passing a shed where a seventy-something fisherman was engaged in mending nets. He looked up and smiled at them, a gap-toothed grin. “You fellows staying at yon guest house up away?” “Yes, we are.” “Enjoy your time here in our nice quiet place, lads.” “Thank you. We will.” As they walked on towards the lighthouse at the harbour entrance, Steve said to Jim, “That was Graham Alan MacMaster. He was always my dad’s top rival for most successful fisherman in the village. I recognized him right away, but he didn’t seem to recognize me.” “Not surprising. I would have passed you in the street if I saw the teenaged you. At least, based on the photos you showed me. I still look much like my teenaged self with years and a few pounds added, but you certainly don’t.” “A few pounds?” “Don’t get sarcastic, now.” “Let’s start back, Jim. Don’t want to be late for that pre-dinner drink.” Thirty minutes later, they were back in the house, shoes cleaned off, and settling in the large common room, where Denny was waiting with a bottle of rum and some mixers, as well as some local beers. “Well, what’ll it be, boys? Alfie will be out to join us in a few, as soon as he puts the finishing touches on the dinner.” After they’d made their choices and toasted each other, Denny stood up and bellowed, like a sailing-ship captain hailing the maintop lookout, “Alfie! We’ve begun toasting here! Better haul your ass out of that kitchen and join us before I start telling these fellows all the bad stories about you!” “Be right there,” a voice hailed back. Denny gave a satisfied nod, but Steve started at the sound. “What is it?” Jim asked quietly, but Steve waved it off. A moment later, the door at the far end of the room swung open, and the tall, broad-shouldered chef of the pair walked in. “Sorry to keep you waiting, there, gents. Welcome to Seavi….” He broke off, stopping dead in his tracks, his face registering shock as he saw the two men standing up to greet him, one wearing an equally shocked face. It was Steve who recovered first from this latest and biggest surprise. “Hello, Alex,” he said in a quiet voice. “My god, Steve, it is you!” Denny and Jim looked on, more than a trifle startled, as the two flung themselves at top speed into a bone-crushing hug that lasted for quite a few seconds. Alex pulled free at last, turned slowly to his husband, and said, “Denny, come over here. I want you to meet my kid brother, Steve.”

@seattlebbbtm thanks very much, hope you keep enjoying it.

Chapter 11: A Night To Remember Shortly after their return from Spain, Steve sprang the trap. He’d organized a surprise, to pay Jim back for the surprise marriage proposal in Ibiza, and it was time for him to shock Jim and catch him completely off guard. He just needed to contact a couple of people to help him out. For that purpose, he settled on Alan Bryors and Dr. Ziggy, with the critical third role going to Jaesen Chalfont, a colleague of Steve’s who had an unusual certification which was necessary for the occasion. The following Saturday was the day they wanted to mark the fourth anniversary of the day they’d first said those magic words, “I love you,” to each other. Steve and Jim always regarded October 12 as their anniversary date, so a Saturday close to that day was a regular date for a spectacular meal out on the town. Steve had taken it in hand this year, and he had organized and reserved dinner for them at one of the deluxe hotels overlooking Santa Monica Beach, timing it to coincide with the sunset. Heads turned as they walked into the hotel lobby, hand in hand, in perfectly-cut matching tuxedos. The maître d’ welcomed them with stately and polished grace and led them to their table. This was set on a private little outdoor dining terrace, off the main restaurant, but so placed that diners inside or at other terraces had no view of it. It felt like being on the private terrace of their own waterfront home. Jim was enjoying every minute of the spectacular meal, the incredible setting, and best of all the man he loved right across the table from him. Steve had trained himself to hide his feelings so thoroughly during his first career that Jim had no inkling of the surprise lurking for him. They poured out the last of the superb bottle of fine vintage wine into their glasses, and then stood and walked over to the rail to watch as the sun dropped into the Pacific Ocean. Jim sighed with contentment as they looked out over the placid, burnished gold waters. Steve placed his arm around Jim’s waist as they leaned on the railing, and Jim copied his movement. Their heads tilted together as they stood still, savouring the view. Jim sighed again. “What’s with the sighs, Jim?” “Trying to think of what we could do for a wedding that could top this night.” Steve smiled. “I have to agree with you there.” “Steve, what are we waiting for anyway?” “Very good question, Jim. Turn around.” Jim looked at him oddly. “Just turn around.” They turned – and there were Jaesen, standing with a book in his hand under an arch of flowers, with Alan and Ziggy on either side of him. Jim stared in shock for a minute, and then the realization dawned on him – that Steve had successfully beaten him to the punch with a surprise wedding. He laughed and punched Steve on the shoulder. “You’re a smooth one, all right, acting so innocent all the time while you were setting me up.” They laughed and kissed. Then Ziggy put his oar in. “Come on, boys, let’s get you hitched.” They stepped up in front of Jaesen, hands joined as Alan and Ziggy stood on either side of them. For a wonder, their remarks to each other didn’t sound the least bit lame or unrehearsed – or at least, not any more lame than the all the ones where the married pair sweat over exactly what to say for weeks ahead of time, and then promptly forget every word in the stress of the Big Moment. Jim was almost beyond being able to think when Alan stepped up and presented two gold wedding rings, even made to the correct size. Steve was just as astonished at that point – that was one detail he hadn’t even considered in his cunning little plan. They slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers, Jaesen pronounced the legally-mandated statements, they signed the documents, and Jim and Steve were henceforth married. After thanking Jaesen, and slipping him the obligatory envelope, Steve and Jim walked back to the railing and stood there, again with their arms around each other, watching as the last remnants of colour faded from the sky with the coming of night. Alan and Ziggy stood back, quietly waiting, with smiles on their faces – Alan showing a kind of paternal pride while Ziggy exhibited a more knowing grin, as if to say, “Just you wait, fellows!” Presently, they turned around, shook hands and hugged with Alan and Ziggy, and then the four of them left the restaurant and walked slowly down the sweeping staircase in the lobby. For some time, they’d been aware at a subconscious level of some raucous music coming from one of the big function rooms below them, but now it obtruded more and more on their consciousness as they walked down the stairs. “Sounds like someone’s having a good rowdy party,” Steve mused. They were walking across the lobby, passing the doors of the grand ballroom, when the doors flew open and a couple of guys shot out, grabbed the newlyweds by the hand, and dragged them inside before they could even say a word. The lights all went on. The music stopped dead. The room was full of men, all beautifully dressed in formal suits of all descriptions. A huge banner was draped across the far wall: CONGRATULATIONS, JIM AND STEVE!!! A massive roar of cheering erupted as the guests of honour entered the room. Jim finally managed to speak, muttering, “What the fuck?” Ziggy stuck his head forward between them. “You didn’t really think we’d let you two get married without a proper party, did you? Come on, guys, it’s time to cut loose and celebrate!” But then Alan intervened. “Not so fast, Ziggy. Wedding photos first!” The photographer quickly marshalled them all into three more-or-less orderly lines (“Tall guys in the back, shorter guys down front, and the two ends come into the centre and down on one knee”), and then moved Steve and Jim right into the middle of the crowd and took half a dozen pictures. Then the music started up again, and the whole crowd went wild. As the party revved up, the dress code went down. At least most of the guys took the trouble to hang their jackets neatly over the backs of the chairs, bowties tucked into pockets. The pleated shirts, though, landed much more randomly. In no time, the whole mob of close to two hundred men were all dancing shirtless, their muscular bodies glistening with sweat. The happy couple stood off to one side with dazed looks on their faces. Alan and Ziggy stayed close to them. With no warning, Ziggy dashed away to plunge into the crowd, zeroing in on a couple of guys who were starting to get a little too frisky. “Whoa, fellows, this isn’t Shooting Stars. You have to behave yourselves here – or else go to your room.” He was destined to make that same speech a number of times during the evening. After about half an hour, the DJ called a halt and ordered all the guys to clear the floor for the famous “First Dance for the bride and groom,” a line which drew plenty of hoots and hollers, along with lewd comments about which one was the bride and how you could tell for sure. The room fell quiet, with nearly every phone raised to record the moment as Steve and Jim took the floor together while the DJ spun a famous slow ballad which soon had the entire assembly quietly humming along – Over the Rainbow. As they moved slowly together in a warm embrace, Jim murmured in Steve’s ear, “Kind of corny – but I love it.” “I’ve always been a good old-fashioned romantic at heart. I thought you knew.” “I don’t mind a bit. I’m that way inclined myself.” “If anyone asks, Jim, just tell them it’s my song.” “Not any more, Steve – now it’s our song.” They kissed deeply as the final notes faded away. A storm of applause and cheering filled the room as the music fired up and the party roared back to life at full throttle. From then on, for the next half an hour and more, they were swarmed by an endless line of friends who wanted to congratulate them individually. The whole night had taken on a dreamlike quality, but as one might expect at a party attended by a couple of hundred gay men, the dream also assumed a decidedly heated, even raunchy, vibe as the evening went on. Finally, Jim was able to drag Steve back onto the dance floor and they were able to cut loose and really relax and enjoy themselves or, as Jim said, “let our hair down – what’s left of it.” The party began to break up by midnight, definitely early by WeHo standards, but there were a lot of guys who were interested in further social activities of the sort which (as Ziggy had already made clear) had to be pursued behind closed doors and elsewhere in the hotel. Jim and Steve hunted up their discarded tuxedos and managed to sort-of get dressed, a bit of a challenge after the amount of alcohol they (and everyone else) had absorbed. “We gonna call a cab, Steve?” “For sure, you’re too drunk to drive home.” “And you’re no better.” Alan intervened, handing them a key-card folder. “You room is ready for you on the eleventh floor. Have a nice night,” Steve protested. “You serious, Alan? I mean… first the rings, and then the party, and now this?” “Yes. Just relax and enjoy. And meet us for brunch in the restaurant at noon.” Jim and Steve thanked Alan and Ziggy profusely, and then headed out, a bit shaky on their feet as they made their way to the elevators. Once through the door of their room, they found themselves in a huge suite with a corner bay window overlooking the ocean. A bottle of champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket, next to a pair of crystal flutes and a basket of hand-crafted chocolates. On the bed were placed two neatly packed gift bags with clothes for the “getaway” and toiletries to make themselves human in the morning. “You know what, Jim? I really don’t need any more wine. Let’s just put it aside and take it with us in the morning.” “Good plan. Come on, let’s just get undressed and crawl into bed.” “Not much of a wedding night, was it?” “Was okay, I guess.” They both laughed uproariously, and continued chuckling loudly as they stripped off their dress clothes, doing their not-too-efficient best to hang them up neatly. They set aside the gift bags, turned down the duvet, and were just about to collapse into the bed, when they were interrupted by a loud roar of “Aww, fuuuck!” and several equally loud cries of sexual delight close at hand. Going back into the living room of the suite, they found the weak link – a connecting door to the next room, on the other side of the living room from their own bedroom, obviously meant for when a suite with two bedrooms was needed. Jim unlocked their side of the connecting door, Banging on the other door, he growled, “Keep it down in there! Some of us are trying to get some sleep!” The door was suddenly opened, revealing two muscular Latino studs, both with impressive erect tools which were dripping wet. On the bed beyond them, Jim glimpsed a pair of younger guys lying, one on his face, and one on his back with his legs up. It was Steve who spoke first. “Well, doesn’t this look interesting?” One of the guys laughed. “You are interested, easy to see,” as he pointed downwards. It was true. Jim’s tool had sprung to full erection very quickly, especially considering how much alcohol was flushing all through his body. Steve, a bit slower as usual, was catching up fast, the notorious rammer lifting away from his crotch as it finished filling. “Dammit, I guess we’ll just have to help these guys work it out of their systems.” Jim’s twinkling eye belied the implied air of grievance in his words. Steve plainly agreed with him. “That’s right, we have to do our duty for the members of the community.” In less time than it takes to tell it, Steve was lying on his back on the bed, while the young guy who had been there, name of Leo, was working his dick into Steve’s ass. Jim was mounting the other young man, who was called Tommy. One of the older men, Carlos, was feeding his substantial dick into Steve’s mouth while the other one, Gustavo, was driving his thick uncut meat into Jim’s firm ass, making a fuck train with Jim and Tommy. Steve was in fuck pig heaven again, having a big tasty slab of meat in his face to suck on. Of course he loved slurping down on Jim’s beautiful best accessory, but there were times in life when a good bottom just craved something above and beyond the normal, and Carlos – with his nine inches of thick tube steak – was definitely all of that. Steve was moaning all around his mouthful as the talented Leo pushed farther and farther into his hole. Leo might be young, but he was skilled and experienced at his work, and Steve could only gasp out, “More! More!” when he pulled off the big Latin tool in his mouth for a moment. As for Jim, he was enjoying his expedition inside Tommy’s tight, wet boyhole, feeling the snug confines of the younger man’s tunnel grasping and stroking his rigid cock at the same time that Gustavo was penetrating and owning his butt with another ten Latin inches. After a few moments, Jim fell naturally into the rhythm of sliding back and forth between Gustavo and Tommy while flexing the muscles that would grasp Gustavo harder and make his own dick jump inside Tommy’s cute ass at the same time. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Jim and Steve were thinking the same things at the same time – a cross between “what a way to spend our wedding night” and “who ever said that you were finished as a gay man by the time you turned thirty?” They were the two oldest guys in the room, but none of the other four seemed to mind their age in the least. Those thoughts weren’t much help at trying to postpone the inevitable. The sexual temperature in the room was rising steadily, the soundtrack getting louder, and there was no desire on the part of any of the six men to defer the Big Moment. The race to the finish line ended with the two youngest guys in a dead heat for first place, Tommy pumping out several squirts of hot juice all over the bed sheets while Leo erupted forcefully inside Steve’s delighted fuckhole. The sudden and powerful grasp of Tommy’s ass muscles brought Jim off next, while his explosion and the contractions of his ass muscles just as quickly sent Gustavo into paroxysms inside Jim’s tunnel. Carlos suddenly called out, “I need to breed him, Leo – switch!” Leo pulled out, and he and Carlos exchanged ends. While Leo fed his ass-slimy cock to the delighted Steve for cleaning, Carlos jammed his meat deep inside Steve’s excited ass just in time to lay another big load of hot Latin jizz into the ex-pornstar’s hole. In a few more moments, all six of them had collapsed in a heap on the bed, gasping for air after that monumental orgy coming (or cumming) on top of the hours of partying downstairs. Jim and Steve eventually heaved themselves up onto their feet, and went around, exchanging kisses, hugs, and gropes with the other four, before returning to their room. There, once Steve remembered to lock the door again, they flopped down in exhaustion onto the bed. Jim had just time to notice that the clock was showing 3:50 AM, and to pull up the duvet across their satiated bodies before they both passed out. Eight hours later, after catching up on lost sleep and struggling vainly to make themselves look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Steve and Jim wandered into the hotel restaurant, looking around for their table. Predictably, Alan and Ziggy were seated at the window seat with the best view over the beach and the ocean, and they rose to greet the guests of honour with knowing grins on their faces. It made Jim feel a bit better to notice that both of their best men were looking just as frazzled on the morning after as they themselves felt. After they’d settled down, and the server had brought coffee and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice, Jim opened the negotiations. “Alan, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking the worse for wear like this before.” “Well, Jim, I hardly got any sleep – and I have to say, it was your fault, well, you and Steve.” “How so?” Steve certainly thought this sounded intriguing. “Because, dear Steve, you kept my boy busy until four in the morning, and even when he finally came back, he woke me up because he was nowhere close to being done and wanted more.” The other three all roared with laughter. “Which one, Alan?” “Leo. He was all revved up and ready for more after getting bred by – was it Carlos? – and then breeding you, Steve. I had to fill him right up two more times before he finally calmed down enough to go to sleep.” Ziggy put in, “Sounds like he wasn’t the only one having trouble calming down,” and everyone laughed again, including Alan. Then Ziggy asked Steve and Jim how they were feeling. “Exhausted,” Jim replied. “About the same way I felt when I went to Newfoundland as a fifteen-year-old hockey player and got Screeched in,” Steve supplemented. Alan, Ziggy, and Jim all raised their eyebrows in a double row of facial question marks. “You’re not a real Newfoundlander until you’ve downed a double shot of Newfie Screech, which is heavy duty black rum, and then kissed a codfish on the mouth.” Ziggy and Alan laughed uproariously again, but Jim caught sight of the slightly hurt expression on Steve’s face and reined in the smart-ass comment that rose to his lips. “You’re serious, aren’t you, Steve?” “Totally. Newfoundland is… well, it’s neither North American nor European. It’s just… Newfoundland. Distinct language, distinct music, definitely a distinct culture – and that Screech is pure dynamite in a bottle. I guess it didn’t help that I’d already knocked back a few beers before they Screeched me in.” Alan’s customary polite nature belatedly returned. “Did all the boys in your hockey team get the treatment?” Now Steve was laughing. “A couple of them refused to do it. That’s practically a capital crime in Newfoundland. One of them downed the Screech and then tossed his cookies.” “Now, there’s an expression I haven’t heard for a long time,” Ziggy put in. “Me? No problem. My dad was a fisherman, and my brother and I had to help out a lot on the wharf after school. He already had us drinking neat rum for toasts by the time we were teenagers. So it wasn’t as scary for me as it was for some of them.” “You learn something new every day.” Alan was shaking his head at this surprising glimpse into a completely different way of life. “Interesting, Steve. I’d never realized you were a down east boy from Canada. I guess we just never talked about it at all.” “Nova Scotia. And we never talked about it, because I tried very hard to forget it. I mean, if your last contact with your parents was when they found out you were gay, and your dad was going for you, roaring abuse, and with a look of fury on his face that said he could very well have killed you on the spot, well… I think anyone would rather forget about that.” Ziggy gently put in his informally professional oar. “But did you succeed in forgetting?” Steve stared down at the table cloth for a long, uncomfortable five seconds before raising his head. “No. As you can see.” Jim said nothing more, just slid over and put an arm around Steve to hold him in quiet comfort. The tense silence that followed was broken by Alan saying, “Well, let’s go and see what’s on the buffet today!” His voice sounded unnaturally hearty, betraying his own discomfort at the unhappy history they had dredged up, but it did help Steve to brighten up and that was the main thing. Soon, they were all laughing and joking together again, the tension fading into the background. Except for Jim. He’d wondered at times why Steve never made any reference to his earlier life before his porn career got underway. Now that he had found out a bit of that back story, he felt uneasy, worrying in case he’d opened a can of worms that had better have been left sealed. Much later, after they’d eaten far too much, and then thanked Ziggy and Alan profusely for their kindness and generosity in taking the simple wedding Steve had planned to the next level – in fact when they were back home – Steve brought the subject up again. “Jim, I’m actually glad that I let that story out at brunch. I guess I’ve known for some time that I couldn’t keep it all bottled up inside me for ever. Ziggy guessed right. I’d have loved to forget it all, but of course that isn’t possible. Everything that happens to you, for good or for bad, becomes a part of you forever. So, yes, it was a bad time – but it toughened me up as I learned to fend for myself, to stop fussing about other people’s approval. That was great. And it made me even more concerned to respond to other people in stressful situations – that was even better. And now that we’re together, you’re helping me to heal. Healing doesn’t mean you put it behind you, it means that you find the good that counterbalances the bad, and that’s what finding you has done for me.” “I’m glad to hear you say that. That whole conversation made me edgy.” “So I noticed. But, Jim, here’s something else I want to tell you. After today, I know that I need to go down east again. I need to move it all into proportion, and going back there will help me to do that. Maybe we could go next spring, say, leaving in May and coming back in June.” “That sounds much better.” “I’d like to start in Boston. I want you to meet an old friend of mine there, and his husband. And I’d love to get to see Provincetown, finally. Then we can go on up into Canada, so you can get to see the world I came from. And there’s one more thing we absolutely have to do.” Steve looked at Jim with a sly grin as he said this. “What is it?” Jim was justifiably suspicious; he knew that grin by now. “We have to go to Newfoundland so you can get Screeched in.”

Chapter 10: Return Journey Six months later, Steve and Jim were seated together in first class on a flight from Los Angeles to Orlando, where they would connect onto a flight to Key West. As the plane soared eastwards across the mountains and desert, Jim simply had to ask Steve yet again if he was sure he was doing the right thing. He’d asked some variant of the same question at least eight times in the previous week. By this time, Steve was a bit inclined to laugh at Jim’s overprotective mother-hen behaviour, but he restrained himself. “Jim, I told you before, I wanted to do this as the ultimate kiss-off to everyone in the whole wide world who thinks I’m actually an exclusive top stud – but especially to all the people in the industry who forced me to be that guy for so many years. It’s the best way for me to achieve final closure on that chapter of my life.” Jim nodded doubtfully, in a classic case of “Yes, I get it” from the intellectual side of his mind while it was abundantly clear that his emotional side didn’t get it at all. He was afraid Steve was going to get hurt by this return to the porn world, and behind that fear lurked the other darker one that he could never entirely set aside – the fear that he was going to lose his man in some way. When their flight landed in Key West, a car and driver were waiting to take them to the resort where the company were all staying. Jim gaped in surprise at the luxurious surroundings. Steve explained to him about Daniel’s hopeful multi-millionaire backer who kept dreaming dreams of getting the Hawaiian Nine into his bed if he were sufficiently generous. Jim’s comment, “Well, I give Daniel full credit for knowing just how to push people’s buttons,” carried a definite double meaning. At the company meeting, they heard that the title of this beachfront porn opus was going to be Nine in the Sand. For his part, Steve now heard for the first time that the two films he had agreed to make had somehow swollen to three, spread out over the next year and a half. Jim looked at him sternly while Steve shrugged his shoulders and turned his hands up in an “I didn’t know” gesture. They were only in Key West for three nights. This was going to be the express shoot to outdo all express shoots. Daniel had somehow managed to get permission from the private owners for a day’s exclusive use of their luxurious home and the sandy key on which it was the sole structure. His backer had to cough up a princely sum as a security deposit, and they were subject to strict conditions: they must arrive promptly at 9:00 am when the caretaker would admit their vans through the main gate, and they must leave promptly at 7:00 pm when the caretaker would return to let them out. No coming or going was to happen at any other time. Due to these odd conditions, the shoot had to be meticulously organized, with Leanne (the business manager) and Marina (the costume coordinator, also known as the General of the Jockstraps) drawing up lengthy lists of every item they had to bring with them, from pool floats and snorkel gear to diverse colours of swimwear, hats, and sunglasses to food and drink for all during the filming breaks. Because of the pressure of timelines, the entire film had to be shot in one day, with two different camera crews filming at a time – one on the beach, and one by the pool, while Daniel, Leanne, and Marina moved back and forth to keep an eye on everything. Daniel had his fingers crossed that this complex scheduling setup was going to work. Because of the tight schedule, the film was carefully planned so that, in each scene, only one model of each two would actually cum. Other cumshots were faked internally. That meant that even in the last scene of the day, the beach orgy, there were still enough visible bursts of cum to satisfy the director. “If anyone can muster a second visible and good cum shot, more power to you, “he said, “but don’t try if it means your second effort is just going to be a dribble.” Steve was not the only performer who took that as a personal challenge. In his first scene, he bred a young Filipino man named Jacky, an experienced porn bottom who managed to take his huge cock and ten-squirt load with no trouble (although with plenty of squirming and squealing). Jacky joined the list of guys who had blown off a load without even touching themselves when they got the Rammer treatment. Then, at day’s end, he got the personal privilege of topping Daniel again at the grand climax of the beachfront orgy, and gave him the full treatment, producing a second Rod Rammer Ten Squirts Money Shot to round off the day. With terrific performances from everyone involved, Daniel was sure that the final 45-minute orgy scene of Nine in the Sand was going to be one of the hottest things ever filmed in gay porn. Jim, who’d beaten out an impressive load on the sidelines of the orgy while Marina stared hungrily at his dick, was inclined to agree. Steve had to explain to him later that Marina was a trans woman who had never bothered with getting any surgeries, and thus still had all her male appurtenances. The other really notable performance had been given by a newcomer, a slim, dark-haired guy of Hungarian descent named Arpad Nagy. Steve had been allowed to watch the filming of this sequence with Daniel, a scene in which an experienced Hawaiian Nine gradually persuaded a reluctant and near-virginal young man to give it up to him. Daniel had especially asked Steve to watch his performance here and give him any feedback. What Steve picked up most of all was a subtle but unmistakable vibe between the two of them. Being the man he was, he naturally felt sorry for young Nagy, knowing Daniel’s tendency to shut down all his personal feelings just to concentrate on the business at hand. Daniel reminded everyone that cleaning and washing off sand from all body parts and hiding places must be done at the beachfront shower before they dressed, and that they had just forty minutes to get ready for the van trip back to Key West. That produced a stampede to be first at the shower, and some shoving matches as some guys simply took too damn long. After a deluxe dinner back at the resort (funded by the unknown backer), the company all flopped into bed, somewhat the worse for wear after their exertions. The next day, they enjoyed a free day while Daniel and his camera crews pored over the footage, looking for any bits that might have to be patched with later close-up shots at home. There were none. The boss heaved a massive sigh of relief that his gamble had paid off. He was even able to relax a bit on the deck and in the pool with the rest of the company and used the time to talk quietly with Steve and Jim about the reasoning behind the move to three films. The next one, to be entitled Hawaiian Ramming, would be the one which included the big scene between Daniel and Steve. Once they were home again from their 72-hour fling in Key West, Steve turned to Jim and said, “There! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He knew that everything was okay when Jim laughed. The next film, Hawaiian Ramming, went on a longer field trip, filming over the span of a week in a rental villa in Palm Springs, about five months later. Jim once again came along for the ride with Steve and was now being treated as a kind of mascot by the entire company, their very own pet groupie. As for Steve, he had now relaxed enough that he felt comfortable letting himself grow into friendships with several of the members of the group, including a few of the performers and Will and Eddie, the faithful cameramen, as well as Marina and Leanne. The company members certainly noticed the considerable relaxation and calm which came over Daniel whenever he stopped for a few minutes to chat with Steve and Jim. The climactic scene of this entire film, of course, was the grand finale pairing of Daniel and Steve. It began with Steve sunning himself on a lounge chair by the pool, and idly rubbing his bulge as he lay there. He’d dressed himself with his dick pointing down this time, and it was quite a sight to see that aggressive erection lifting the leg opening of his swimsuit all by itself to push out into view. Certainly that sight attracted the attention of Daniel who came sauntering by the pool just at that point with his own swimsuit straining to hold in a rapidly growing hard-on. He paused for a moment, showing great interest, and then turned and walked over to the edge of the pool, down the steps into the water. As he went, he cast a seductive “Well, are you coming?” look over his shoulder. Steve took the hint, stood up, and followed him down the steps. In no time, the two of them were locked into a passionate embrace. Eddie had donned a mask and snorkel for this sequence and was sitting underwater with a weight belt on to hold him in place. His camera was tracking the action between the two men’s dicks as the scene unfolded. Will’s handheld camera and the two cameras on tripods were catching the above water show of duelling tongues. Even with all his experience at free diving, Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as he tracked the action, watching Steve’s one-eyed dragon continuing to extend itself until the head had gotten three inches down his leg beyond the hem of his speedo. Eddie was also sporting a full erection by this time, but he had sensibly dispensed with a swimsuit so he wouldn’t get distracted by painful constriction while filming. The entire passionate coupling unfolded in the water – the swimsuits sliding away, the cocks dueling, Daniel plunging under the surface to suck on Steve’s cock – up to the point where Steve was to return the favour. He didn’t have anything like Daniel’s experience as a surfer at holding his breath when driven underwater, so Daniel hoisted out onto the side of the pool while Steve moved in between his powerful thighs to swallow down the thick nine incher. Seeing those two famous cocks in action at the same time, “porn royalty” as Will and Eddie later called it, was going to be an unforgettable spectacle for future viewers. It got even better when Daniel slid back into the water and turned to face the edge of the pool, allowing Rod Rammer’s thirteen inches to work their way into his firm, rounded, muscular ass, finding the hole and penetrating deep inside his body. As Will put it later, it was a wonder that all the water in the pool didn’t flash into steam. Steve fucked Daniel slowly, but with full intention, for only about three minutes before he was ready to cum. Eddie caught a perfect close up of the Rammer, buried three-quarters of the way inside Daniel, the base of the shaft throbbing and flexing as Steve’s sperm ejected inside his partner. Then he pulled out, and the camera captured it all as the newly freed Rammer jumped up and down in the water, still pumping out clouds of milky sperm that hovered in the pool around the two of them. The sight was so mesmerizing that future viewers might very well miss the fact that Daniel hadn’t cum. After another bout of hot kissing, Daniel led the way up out of the pool and over to the lounger to give the fans a show they’d never seen before. The two of them lay together, Daniel on top of Steve, making out and fondling each other’s dicks to stay hard while Eddie got rid of his underwater camera housing and Will moved the tripod cameras to new positions, prepared to continue the shoot. When the cameras were running again, the kissing turned much more intense, tongues plainly swapping back and forth, and the fondling of two rigid dicks got more intense too. Then Daniel, broke the kiss, sliding smoothly down Steve’s body and started lifting Steve’s legs, pushing them up and back over his prone torso – and there was the famous Rod Rammer, the legendary porn top to end all porn tops, lying on his back, totally vulnerable, with legs up and ass exposed as Daniel dived down and began eating his hole. Steve had rarely had his hole eaten on screen, and almost always as part of a 69 scene that proceeded from mutual sucking to mutual rimming. This was truly a first, to show himself to the porn viewing public in such an inviting position. Previous invitations from this source had always been to suck his enormous cock or get it plugged into someone else’s waiting fuckhole. Steve’s behaviour had changed too. No longer the gruff, tough top, he let himself go thoroughly with his own personal sensations, savouring the attack on his ass by a master of the art, and letting the thrill of it wash all through him. His head lashed back and forth on the lounger’s pillow, his eyes shut, his mouth emitting ecstatic moans and squeals of delight as Daniel worked on his hole. Will and Eddie knew what was going to happen and were expecting the direction the action went – but they had never anticipated such a shameless exhibition of pure bottom lust. When Daniel moved up and slid into Steve’s ass, Eddie stayed with the action down by the hole while Will moved up to catch the expressions playing across Steve’s face. At this moment, Will realized – as thousands and thousands of fans would realize when they watched this scene in the finished product – that he was seeing the real man behind the Rod Rammer name, for the first time ever. It was totally obvious that Steve was being taken all the way to bottom pig heaven by Daniel’s thick, straight cock, and enjoying this scene as he had never enjoyed any of the dozens upon dozens of scenes where he had topped someone else. That became clearer still as the cameras moved around, catching the action from different angles, while Daniel sank down on top of Steve and pounded hard and fast down into his now-open hole. That was Steve’s cue, to wrap his arms and his legs around Daniel’s body and draw him right into a close embrace. Daniel went right into that embrace with no hesitation, and planted his mouth right on Steve’s so they were kissing as he drove towards the peak. Steve was doing his best to work his hole on Daniel’s cock. He’d had a fair bit of practice by this time. Then Daniel started groaning that he was going to cum soon. Steve put everything he had into the words he had specially selected for this moment. “I want you to give it to me. All of it. All the way inside me!” In just a few more moments, he cried out in triumph, “Fuck, YEAH!”, as Daniel slammed down on him one last time. Daniel made a change in the script, too. He didn’t do the Rod Rammer-style shoot inside, pull out, shoot in again. He held it right inside Steve, all the way to the finish, while the camera captured just the base of his cock contracting again and again in the ring of Steve’s ass. Eddie held the camera right there as Daniel’s load began squeezing out of Steve around Daniel’s cock while the head was still propelling more sperm inside. Daniel pulled out, then, and Eddie’s camera missed none of the slow motion flow of Hawaiian cum pouring out of Steve’s body. Will, meanwhile, was focusing on the all-gone look on Steve’s face, even as he and Daniel kept kissing each other right through that huge orgasm. When Daniel finally pulled away, Will’s camera caught the sizable pool of cum all around the head of Steve’s still-rigid dick – and Steve had definitely not taken a hand away from Daniel’s muscular back to jerk that load out. The mere fact that he’d cum on such a grand scale hands-free ought to convince the most skeptical doubter that Steve was a born-to-the-role bottom. At least, that’s what Jim said during their drive back to Los Angeles two days later. Steve smiled, laid his hand on Jim’s arm and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you for helping me to reclaim my real self after the industry took it away from me.” Jim said nothing more during the remainder of that drive – just took his right hand off the steering wheel, clasped Steve’s left hand in it, and hung on until the exit where he had to pull off the Santa Monica Freeway, when he needed both hands again for driving on the city streets. When Hawaiian Ramming was released about six months later, the sales shot through the roof. The buzz (generated fifty-fifty by Leanne and by Daniel himself) was that the bonus scene with the Hawaiian Nine and Rod Rammer together was going to be just about the hottest thing ever filmed. To get it, the prospective viewer had to purchase the entire movie as well. It wasn’t available as a pay-per-view, or separately, but only as part of the full package purchase. The buzz over that one scene had built to the point where the advance pre-release sales were not just the biggest in Hawaiian Nine Films’ history, but no less than two and a half times bigger than the next biggest presale record for the company. The third film that Daniel had more or less tricked Steve into agreeing to do was to be filmed on location in Sitges. The incentive was the long list of awards for which Hawaiian Ramming had been nominated, since the filming would take place right after the awards presentation night in Barcelona. Daniel was very relieved to see that his scene with Steve had been nominated for the “Scene of the Year” award. That would make it all the more difficult for Steve to weasel out of his commitment, if he’d been thinking about doing that. As it turned out, he wasn’t. Steve and Jim turned up in time for the flight to Barcelona, in first class no less, courtesy of Daniel’s favourite patron. They entered right into the spirit of the occasion, laughing and joking with the others throughout the evening, and again after everyone was awake in the morning before landing. During the flight, though, Daniel approached them with another one of his ingenious ideas, and again he almost upset the apple cart. This time, his newest inspiration was that Steve should do his scene for this film with Jim as his scene partner. Daniel, of course, was picturing another marketing coup – a scene between a top-ranked pornstar and his real-life husband. Fortunately for all of them, Jim put the brakes on that idea right away – and Steve immediately backed him up. Steve also affirmed that this would definitely be his final bow in porn, and after this one last film he was going to retire again and stay retired. “For me personally, coming back into the business was a mistake. I’d quit for all the right reasons before, when I met Jim, and coming back was something I did for myself, and for you. Carrying on now would be something I would do for a whole pile of wrong reasons.” Jim saw Daniel’s face fall, and quickly put his oar in. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not still friends.” Daniel then made one of his signature quick recoveries. “Well, if this is definitely the last “lights, camera, action,” for you, who would you like me to pair you up with for your final scene?” Steve’s thoughts turned immediately to the young Hungarian man, Laszlo, whose work ethic as Arpad Nagy had strongly impressed him. “What about Laszlo? Do you think you could persuade him to do a switch-fuck with me?” “You mean, he does you and you do him?” “That’s what I mean.” “So who gets to breed?” Daniel asked. “Good question.” Steve pondered for a minute. “Maybe flip a coin?” Jim put in his two cents’ worth. “Since he’s young and inexperienced, he could probably shoot first inside you, and then you can breed him afterwards. You’ve had plenty of experience in delaying the inevitable.” Daniel wrapped up the discussion. “Well, we’ve already seen both of you bred on screen in the last film. Why don’t you negotiate it with him and come up with a scene plan?” “Deal.” And Daniel heaved a quiet but heartfelt sigh of relief as he walked away after they shook hands on that agreement. Once they came off the plane in Barcelona, the company had a couple of days for sightseeing prior to the award ceremony, but no sex allowed due to Daniel’s normal rules. They’d be driving down to Sitges the morning after the ceremony and starting filming the day after that. Almost all of them had worked for Daniel before and knew the rules and the reasons behind them. With two scorching movies in the running, Hawaiian Nine Films did indeed pull off a massive sweep at the awards presentation on Saturday night. Hawaiian Ramming won for the best film of the year, with Daniel and Steve sharing a trophy for Scene of the Year for their epic switch scene, and Laszlo collecting the Newcomer of the Year award. Further icing on the cake was the awarding of a trophy for outstanding camera work to Will and Eddie for the orgy scene in Nine in the Sand. To crown the whole evening, a special Lifetime Achievement Award was presented to Steve in recognition of his long and memorable career as Rod Rammer, and Steve finally had a chance to speak for himself. After paying tribute to all his colleagues who had appeared with him and worked with him through the years, he addressed the question that had set so many people’s curiosity ablaze. “Many of you have asked why I chose to come back into this industry, and I’m sure many more have been wondering. My answer is in that scene that I did with the Hawaiian Nine for Hawaiian Ramming. It’s not a hidden message at all, but I’m sure many viewers missed it in the heat of the moment. I came back because I was offered a chance, by my friend, the Hawaiian Nine, to do a scene on my terms in which I could finally share with the world my true identity, the real man behind the screen name, and let you all see me enjoying sex the way I really want to enjoy it, the way that no other producer for the last seventeen years would ever allow me to do. “I’m glad that I’ve done that, just as I’m glad you all enjoyed it so much, and I feel sure that the truthfulness of the scene contributed a great deal to the recognition we were given for it. Now, after doing just one more film for Hawaiian Nine Films, I’ll be ready to retire from the business again, and this time it will be for good. Time to make way for the young fellows. Thank you all for this wonderful special award, and for putting up with my brief return to the scene – and that thanks goes out especially to my long-suffering and incredibly patient partner, Jim.” The ovation was instant, spontaneous, and overwhelming. Steve could be seen wiping tears out of his eyes as he came down off the stage, endured a massive group hug from the Hawaiian Nine gang, hugged and kissed Jim, and then sat down beside him with Jim’s arm draped over his shoulders. At the reception after the ceremony, Steve and Jim stood together at one end of the room, while all the other guests lined up to greet them and congratulate Steve. After everyone had passed through this impromptu receiving line, Steve said, “Now I know exactly what visiting royalty feel like at a formal reception.” Jim laughed and added, “Right – or the happy couple at a wedding party for just 500 cousins and close friends.” Inwardly, he was chuckling with glee. The next afternoon, at their small hotel in Sitges, everyone was out sunning themselves (and recovering from lost sleep) around the pool. Some of the guys were lounging in the water, and some remained on dry land. Everyone was in a very relaxed, quiet mood, saving up their energy for the next few days of intensive work. Eddie and Will were among those standing in the pool, just enjoying the scenery, when Eddie suddenly nudged Will and said, “Hey, Will, check that out.” In the far corner of the sundeck, Jim had taken Steve’s hand and drawn him to his feet. Jim was speaking in a very earnest, serious manner, but they couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. It was obvious, too, that Steve was wondering what was happening. By this time, nearly everyone on the deck was watching them. And it was at this moment that Jim went down on one knee in front of Steve, his hand holding up a small box. Marina gasped aloud. Then Steve nodded, and said, “Yes! Yes! Ohmigod, YES!” Jim stood up and slipped the ring onto his finger, and the whole assembly cheered loudly as they kissed each other. Then the crowd of their friends all leapt up for another round of congratulatory hugging and kissing. The bartender was called over to take some pictures, which showed the happy couple front and centre with all the others crowded around them – an ocean of hot, sexy male bodies with no shirts around the twin islands of the slightly more covered Leanne and Marina. The next day, as they prepared for their scene together, Laszlo was feeling a bit out of sorts. It wasn’t a question of drinking the night before; he knew better than to try that before a shoot. Steve asked him in his kind way what the problem was. “I can’t explain it. It feels sort of…, well, somewhere between wrong and weird, with a strong dose of jealous, to try to film a scene with you when I just watched you get engaged yesterday afternoon.” Steve chuckled at that. “Laszlo, if it will help you at all, just pretend that the whole engagement scene was a bad dream you had, and it actually didn’t take place.” Laszlo’s eyes widened a trifle. “Are you saying…?” “No. Just trying to help you out.” “Don’t scare me like that!” They both laughed, and the tension passed. And it was a good scene, strong and memorable, with two epic breedings an hour apart. So was the last scene filmed, the now-trademark big orgy scene that would come at the end of the finished film, with both Daniel and Steve appearing in the same scene one last time. As the guys showered off together afterwards, Steve experienced a sad, strong feeling of nostalgia at the thought that this was definitely the end. He had already said so in public, and now it was time to settle down, get married, and get on with the new life he’d been building for himself with Jim. On the flight home the next day, the champagne flowed freely as the entire gang celebrated the successful completion of another shoot, the multiple awards, and the newly engaged couple. A big congratulations and thank-card was passed around and was signed by all the company before being presented to Steve and Jim just before the plane landed. While they were waiting for their bus to take the group back into the city, Daniel sidled over and said quietly to Steve, “Can you and Jim come to my office on Wednesday afternoon, say, at two o’clock?” “I can. I’ll check with Jim. As long as this isn’t a proposal for yet another last film.” Daniel smiled, a wry grin, but didn’t laugh. Steve sensed the strain in him and wondered why. “No, Steve, not that. Just need to explain a couple of things to you, and not around all the others.” “Okay, Wednesday at 2:00 pm. For now, though, I’ve just got a little suggestion for The Nine in Spain.” He outlined his idea, and Daniel let out a hearty guffaw. Just then the bus pulled up beside them, everyone clamoured to be the first on board, and the conversation ended. Steve marked the date in his calendar. Then he checked with Jim. “Sure, I can do it. I’ll just tell the office manager it’s a medical appointment. What’s it for?” “He didn’t say, just asked if we could come.” “And what was it you said that made him laugh so loudly?” “Can’t tell you now. But if he takes me up on it, you’ll laugh out loud too.” On Wednesday afternoon, the two of them were seated in Daniel’s office promptly at two, after having arrived a few minutes early to say hello to Leanne. They greeted Daniel, and he poured each of them a shot of prime Scotch from a crystal decanter. After they toasted each other, they looked at him in expectation. “Steve, Jim, I asked you to come in today, most of all because I wanted to thank you. You’ve likely heard via the grapevine that I don’t have many friends, that I’m all business and nothing but, and that’s true. Colleagues, acquaintances, business associates, fellow performers, but not much in the way of friends. You two have gone out of your way to build a friendship where I wasn’t doing anything at all to support it. As well, Jim, I’m grateful that you were prepared to back Steve’s decision to come out of retirement and appear in several films for me. Steve, of course, you’ve made an immense contribution by your appearances, and by the impact your work ethic and professional dedication has had on my casts and my crew. For that, I owe you a huge vote of thanks. Which is why I’ve asked you here, to thank the two of you, and to give you these small gifts as well.” With that, Daniel pulled up a gift-wrapped parcel and handed it to Jim. “Jim, you may recall a conversation in which you shared the story of how Steve called you to come and see him because he didn’t want to remember you as the one who got away. That’s why I got you this.” Intrigued, Jim took the parcel and opened the card. He read out, “Jim, this comes with thanks and the hope that you won’t miss the one who got away.” He peeled off the wrapping paper, revealing a dark cloth bag. Opening the drawstrings at the top of the bag, he drew out a carton covered with nude, erect photos of his host. The label read, Authentic HAWAIIAN NINE Dildo! Moulded from the Actual Erect Cock of the Famous Porn Star! Jim laughed heartily as he showed it Steve, who also let out a great bellow of a laugh. They then told Daniel the story about how Jim had bought himself an “Authentic ROD RAMMER Dildo” to practice on before that memorable second meeting with Steve – a story which in turn set Daniel laughing. After they’d settled down, Daniel turned to Steve. “I’m so grateful to you, Steve – not just because of what you’ve done, although that matters a great deal. Not just coming out of retirement to appear in Hawaiian Nine films again, either. Your suggestions and ideas, and your powerful work ethic and professional commitment have had a huge positive effect on the productions you’ve appeared in, and on all the people involved in them. The younger cast members, they all speak of you as a role model, someone to emulate. I agree. “On top of all that, as I said a minute ago, is the way that you showed me what I had to do when you departed from the industry and took all the steps you needed to reset your entire life, right up to the point where you built your relationship with Jim. That has given me a playbook to follow as I prepare to leave the business too.” He handed Steve a plain white letter envelope with “Steve Rotherham” neatly written on it. Inside, when Steve opened it, he found a folded sheet of letter paper and a deposit advice slip. “Five hundred eighty-four dollars and seventy-six cents? Seriously? What’s this for? You’ve already paid me very well, in fees and expenses, for the work!” “Steve, it’s a royalty – a residual. I decided to do this after the first two films you made, which both turned into total blockbusters. Everyone in the company is getting one, but you’re the first. The letter explains it, and the money should land in your account today. Each time one of those films gets streamed, you get two cents. Each time someone buys the film, you get ten cents. For The Nine in Spain, where you’re billed as the star, you’ll get five cents for a streaming and twenty-five cents for each outright purchase. And for Hawaiian Ramming, each time someone buys the bonus scene along with the main film, you get an additional fifteen cents. The whole program is backdated to Jan. 1, 2017, when Nine in the Sand was released, and it will continue as long as the films remain available. This payment represents the royalties owing from 2017 to today in 2019.” Stunned speechless, Steve could only stand up and hold out his arms to Daniel. The ensuing hug lasted a good fifteen seconds. Jim stood by, and hugged Daniel in turn. Then it was Jim who said the appropriate. “Thank you so much for your generosity, Daniel – not just in money but your generosity of spirit even more so. I’m sure that whatever direction you turn in, you will succeed and make your mark.” Steve nodded agreement. “Yes. And please remember, whatever you want to ask about, or just to talk out whatever happens to you, our door is always open for you, and you are and will always be a welcome guest in our home.” With that, they shook hands and turned to leave. Daniel showed them out the door. Talk about perfect timing. Laszlo walked into the Hawaiian Nine Films office suite just as Jim and Steve were sauntering out of Daniel’s private office into the reception area. “He’s free, Laszlo, just go on in.” Jim sounded like a man on a mission. But Steve put out a hand and stopped Jim from leaving, then spoke. “Hey, Laszlo, I’d like to keep in touch. Let’s swap numbers.” Jim raised his eyebrows. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you any more?” he asked in a mocking tone – then chuckled. Steve, though, replied in an unusually serious voice. “Jim, I think it would be a good idea for us to keep in contact with Laszlo.” The numbers duly exchanged, the two of them hugged and kissed the younger man, and then went on their way. And Laszlo went in. Outside the building, Curious Jim said, “Well?” “Well, what?” “You know what, Steve. Why did you want Laszlo’s number?” “Just a sixth sense. I get the feeling that Daniel is about to do something big and make some sort of major change in his life. If he does, I just have a feeling that he might let Laszlo know what he’s up to. I’m not sure if it’s love, but there’s some sort of special comfort zone there for him. I want to know where to locate Laszlo if we need to ask about Daniel.” Jim nodded. “That’s good thinking. I didn’t pick up anything particular about them myself, but I sure as hell trust your judgement.” Steve laughed. “You’re just saying that because I thought it was safe to confide in you with my feelings. So I did -- and look where it got us!” The two of them laughed and kissed. Six months later, they were invited back to Daniel’s condo for the release party for The Nine in Spain. Jim had everyone at the party in stitches with his deadpan accounts of what it was like being the lead groupie for a porn film production company. Steve enjoyed touching base with other members of the company, all of whom were coming to seem like old friends – even like a family. When it was time to sit down and watch the final version of the film that would go on sale at midnight, something unusual happened. Raunchy comments followed by raucous laughter were a staple of these video viewings at Hawaiian Nine. In this instance, though, everyone in the room burst into uproarious laughter much sooner in the viewing -- in fact, just as the last line of the credits scrolled up onto the screen. A Hawaiian Nine Films Production From the Most Awarded Studio in Gay XXX Video Today THE NINE IN SPAIN Starring ROD RAMMER and the HAWAIIAN NINE Winners of the Scene of the Year Award for 2019 Featuring ARPAD NAGY Winner of the Most Promising Newcomer Award for 2019 With MIGUEL MAXY JOHANNIS DANIELSON RYAN READESTON PAULO DOMINANTE And Introducing STEVE ROTHERHAM Steve’s amusing little suggestion to Daniel had worked like a charm. Everyone in the company said the same thing afterwards, some variant on: “I wonder how many people will get the joke?”

Chapter 9: Aggravations In the space of another six months, Steve and Jim were living together full time, in Jim’s condo in West Hollywood. Steve had gone into a lot of research to find a similar program in Los Angeles which would accept college transfer credits from Denver, and he’d had to beg, plead, and argue to get a partial refund of his fees at the half way mark of the year. He’d also had to find someone to sublet his apartment, but that was less of a problem, not least because he’d rented the place furnished so he had no large belongings to deal with. On the other side of the Great Divide, Jim had been working away, too: giving appropriate notice to the roommate who was living in his spare room and using half the space in his refrigerator, and then cleaning and pitching like a madman to make room for all of Steve’s clothes and other belongings when he was ready to move. But they had accomplished all of it, and there they were, securely settled in and in business as a full-time couple. And, as anyone who’s ever moved in with someone else knows, that’s when the real fun begins. Jim often recalled the advice of his older sister, ruefully summing up the reasons why she had split from her first full-time boyfriend. “Jim, a relationship between an early riser and a late owl is doomed to fail.” Jim suspected that Steve was, by nature and habit, a late owl while he himself was an early riser – and he quickly discovered that his suspicions were well-founded. It wasn’t just that Steve, after almost two decades of performing until well past midnight five or more times a week, wanted to sleep in. Jim was surprised to learn that he was apt to be noisy when he was getting up and going in the morning – swearing at every little thing that went wrong, very loudly. Steve would swear too, especially on mornings when Jim’s voice shot him awake but he didn’t need to be up in good time for any particular reason. Then there was the matter of bathroom space. After years of pampering his skin all over, so as to look good on camera or under the stage lights, Steve was used to spreading out his various ointments, creams, and other magic potions over every available inch of the vanity top. Jim protested. He was more of a rough-and-ready guy, taking good care of the main target zones, but otherwise pretty much letting nature take its course – but he did value the idea of having his essentials, from shaving kit to hair brush, right there at hand when needed. The whole hassle of sorting out closet space was another topic of conversation. “You know, Steve, for a guy whose entire career consisted of wearing little to nothing, you’ve sure got a hell of a lot of clothes crammed in here!” “Give me a break, Jim. I got rid of nearly half of it.” The dynamics of the kitchen took some work too. Steve’s “culinary skills” were nearly non-existent in the early running, since he’d spent most of his life for years jetting from gig to gig. Of necessity, then, Jim did most of the cooking to begin with. In time, though, Steve spent some spare hours reading up and watching TV shows, began practising a bit, and quickly proved to have a real aptitude in the kitchen. And that’s when the little disagreements began in the field of culinary arts: “Did you use my favourite knife to cut open a bag of coffee?” versus “Where is that spiral disc for the food processor every time I need it?” Steve grumbled incessantly about the legendary L.A. traffic. Once he got his new college program under way, it took him close to an hour to get to classes, either by taking two “connecting” bus routes that rarely if ever actually connected, or else by taxi, where the relentless meter ticked upwards as they sat in the continuous Los Angeles traffic jam. To Jim, all this was old news, of course, but having to listen to Steve grousing about it got tedious. One day, Jim asked what seemed to him a perfectly obvious question. “You have to travel quite a distance; I can walk to work. Why don’t you just take the car?” Steve hemmed and hawed for a minute, actually feeling embarrassed, like a country bumpkin visiting a big city cousin and not knowing what to say or do. At last, he came out with it. “Jim, I can’t. I don’t have a driver’s licence.” And then, after a moment, he added, “Okay, Jim, you can scrape your jaw up off the floor now.” “You really caught me off guard. Out here, everyone has one. In California, you can’t live without your own wheels.” “I never needed to. I always got a place to stay that was near wherever I was working, and then I walked to whichever venue I was performing or filming in.” One aspect of Steve’s life took a really dramatic upswing after the opening of a new bar called Shooting Stars, not far from their home. They had gone to the grand opening party and a friend of Jim’s had taken them in hand, introducing the new couple to all kinds of men. Steve actually handled the event really well, since he had guessed that he was going to get hit with a hundred different variants of the same question. And sure enough…. “Hey, aren’t you Rod Rammer?” “Not any more. My name’s Steve.” “I’m sure I’ve seen you before.” “I’m sure you have. Name that film.” “What was it like fucking all those hot bottoms?” “A job, like any other job.” “Don’t you miss all that hot playtime in the bedroom?” “Not in the least. I don’t even miss having lights, cameramen, producer, and other assorted lackeys hanging around while I’m doing some guy’s ass a favour.” “Are you and Jim exclusive?” “You’ll have to ask Jim.” And so on. Not to say that everything was a series of frustrations. The two of them never lost the delight in getting to know all about each other, both in bed and out of it. Steve had laid down just one rule in advance. “Jim, I did nothing for years but play top man. I don’t care if I don’t fuck ass again for a long time. A very long time. But I’m up for exploring just about anything else. Or anyone else.” Jim took him at his word. He’d also been doing some exploring since his previous relationship had ended, and wasn’t at all unhappy to keep doing it, especially in such fine company. The two of them would quickly gain a reputation for their hospitality, ranging from drinks and snacks to elaborate dinners – and almost always with a side trip to the bedroom thrown in, except when the fun evolved elsewhere in the condo. Their first guest in their new joint home was a man Jim had previously played with, a Doctor of Psychiatry no less, Dr. Siegfried Magnus – known to all his friends in the gay community as Ziggy. Ziggy was a beefy, muscular man in his late forties with a deceptively calm and gentle voice. No doubt the voice was of great use in his work, but at this dinner party his conversational manner soothed and lulled Steve into letting his guard down. Throughout the meal – an impressive feast of lobster and scallops which Steve had prepared – Jim was trying to conceal a smile, knowing that anything might happen. It did. After dinner, when Steve was stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, he bent down extra low to reach the bottom rack – and suddenly realized that his pants were getting away from him. Quickly. Both layers. His yelp of surprise was rapidly succeeded by a moan of sheer sexual happiness as Ziggy’s tongue found his crack and began stroking and probing his tight ass knot. As Ziggy worked away on him, his moaning got louder and more continuous. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Jim was leaning back against the edge of the kitchen table, clothes off, dick erect, stroking himself – and with a big, horny grin plastered across his face. “You enjoying that, Steve?” Steve nodded happily and then yelped again as Ziggy’s thick finger penetrated his hole and began twisting in and out. Ziggy looked up at Jim. “Here, Jim, why don’t you give him something to quiet him down. You know, not to disturb the neighbours.” Jim walked over and pulled Steve’s shirt off, then pushed him down and planted his cock firmly inside Steve’s mouth. Ziggy pulled his finger out of Steve and proceeded to undress himself rapidly. His cock was jutting fiercely upwards, the head already glistening. He came around next to Jim, and the two of them placed their cocks side by side, giving Steve a choice of meat to suck on – two different grades of prime beef. While Steve was jumping from cock to cock, Jim was playing with Ziggy’s chest, digging into the fur and twisting the nipples to rev Ziggy up even more. “Fuck, yeah, Jim, love it when you pull on my nips like that.” His cock was now leaking even harder, and Steve was enjoying himself slurping up all the juice that oozed out. Ziggy grabbed his head, tilting it up to look in his eyes. “You ready to get fucked, Steve?” “Yeah. Stuff that thing into my hole. I want to feel you inside me.” Ziggy moved back to Steve’s rear end, and tugged Steve’s pants all the way down until he could step out of them. Then Steve spread his feet apart, Jim slid his cock back into Steve’s mouth, and Ziggy planted his tool against Steve’s hole. He leaned on it and Steve’s ass opened right up and sucked him in. “Damn, he really wants it. Look at that ass swallowing my cock whole.” Steve mumbled agreement, his mouth once again full of Jim’s tasty slab of meat. Ziggy pumped slowly in and out of Steve’s hole, feeling it relaxing and then starting to respond, to stroke him, to grab and release as he worked it over. Steve was in fuck heaven, with a thick cock thrusting deep inside him and another tool for him to suck on. His own cock was rigid as a board under him, showing plainly that he didn’t need anyone else’s hole to make him horny. Ziggy hadn’t gotten his dick into such a tight hole for a very long time, and he was enjoying this fuck immensely. So was Jim, who was so turned on by the whole scene that he was getting close to cumming into Steve’s mouth. Steve could sense that Jim was close, and he redoubled his efforts, sucking Jim with even greater intensity. Ziggy too caught the vibe, and speeded up his thrusts into Steve’s ass, hoping to cum right along with Jim. But it was Jim who came first, spurting a huge load deep into Steve’s mouth as Steve gulped and swallowed repeatedly. Ziggy was now pounding into Steve, piledriving his hole with increasing ferocity until he reached the peak, grunted loudly, and pumped several big spurts of his juice into Steve’s happy ass. Finally, the two of them calmed down and pulled out of Steve’s two ends. Steve straightened up, showing the former “Rammer” erect, dark red, and plainly ready to explode on a moment’s notice. “Okay, guys, you’ve had your fun. Now, who wants this?” Ziggy dived onto it, getting the first six inches into his face, and started working his throat on it. In just a few seconds, Steve convulsed into his mouth. In true Rod Rammer style, he shot three times, pulled out and squirted a couple more across Ziggy’s cheeks, and then shoved it back in so Ziggy could get the rest of it. Jim chuckled at the sight of the doctor getting treated to the ex-pornstar’s signature money shot. Finally, the three of them calmed down. “Dammit, now I’m going to have to clean the entire kitchen again,” Jim said, looking at the assorted messes on the floor. They all laughed. Some hours later, when Ziggy had finally left for the night after leaving another load inside Steve’s fuckchute, Steve and Jim were cleaning the kitchen together. Steve was acting grumpy. “You might have warned me, Jim.” “Well, I’d let Ziggy know that you loved to be on the bottom, and I was curious to see what he’d do about it. He’s notorious for his surprise attacks.” Steve grunted. “Hey, Steve, you’re not mad at me – are you?” “Just that, if you’d let me know what I was in for, we could have gotten him over here a lot sooner.” Jim caught sight of that tell-tale twinkle in Steve’s eye just as he was saying the last few words. “Steve, you’re such a joker. For a second, you actually had me worried. Ready for bed now?” “Sure – but not for any more action. Two rounds of Ziggy really strained my limits. You have to remember, I’m still pretty much of a newbie at this bottoming thing.” That gave both of them a good laugh. That adventure, though, was nothing compared to what happened a few weeks later when they were sharing a latte and sandwich lunch at their favourite bakery and coffee spot, The Baked Bean. They had gotten lucky for once, and Jim’s day off work had coincided with Steve’s day of no classes. All the same, they weren’t doing anything really consequential, just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company in a low-key mode. The same was true of their lunch: Steve had opted for a simple chicken salad wrap while Jim was having black forest ham on a poppyseed bun. Their conversation was also not about anything remarkable, just simple little random thoughts and ideas. As they sat there chatting, a shadow loomed over the table. Jim looked up first to see a handsome, well-built man, about the same age as them, gazing down at the couple with a quizzical smile. Jim leaped to his feet. “Alan! Good to see you again!” They embraced, and then Jim motioned to Steve to stand up. “Steve, this is my friend and the guardian angel of the WeHo gay community, Alan Bryors. Alan, my partner, Steve Rotherham.” “Pleased to meet you, Alan.” Steve’s reply and his pasted-on smile were both conventional. Underneath, he knew what was coming next. But Alan surprised him. “Good to meet you, Steve. I had already heard about you and Jim becoming a couple, and about your retirement. My congratulations on both counts.” Steve never stayed surprised for long. “Thank you. Would you like to join us?” The upshot was that Alan sat down with them, and they chatted, very much a three-way conversation, since Steve and Alan immediately liked each other. Before long, Alan had invited the two of them to dinner, and a discussion of dates then evolved. In a few moments, they had fixed it for the following Sunday afternoon at 3:00, “so we have time for a swim and some sun before dinner. Or just the hot tub, if you prefer.” That last bit was tagged on with a sly wink, the first time Alan had showed any hint of sexual interest in Steve. He then excused himself, with impeccable manners, and left the café. That gave Jim a chance to fill Steve in on some details. “Steve, Alan is a filthy stinking rich multi-millionaire. He’s also a top-notch gourmet cook, although he only does that for dinner guests now. Lives in one of the most deluxe penthouses for miles around. It takes up the entire top floor of his building. There’s a big outdoor pool and sundeck on the roof of the building’s other tower, which is lower. His penthouse doesn’t just have a balcony – it has an outdoor terrace, almost as big as a standard apartment, and there’s a hot tub for four there, right outside the glass doors from the living room. The place is incredible – and legendary.” “Hmm. A classic chef – piles of money -- good-looking – and he seems to be in great shape. Sounds just like my kind of guy. Oh, relax, Jim, you don’t need to get that hurt-puppy-dog look on your face, I’m just joking around a bit. I’ve got the best man in the world already, and I don’t need to waste time trying to find myself another one.” “Phew. Dodged that bullet just in time.” They both laughed. But then Jim went on. “And I have to warn you, you might think he’s your kind of guy, but you most definitely are not his type – not even close. His type is a cute, barely-of-age twinkie boy, and he’s always got one in residence. I haven’t met his current one yet. And that’s not all. No idea why, but Alan just loves sloppy seconds. So his boy of the moment is always on the hunt for tops to breed him. That way he can bring a nice sopping wet ass home to Daddy.” Now Steve was the one looking like a depressed basset hound. He asked in a hopeless voice, “Does this mean I’m going to have to fuck his twink du jour?” “You can probably do whatever you want. Alan enjoys sitting and watching while his guests get it on with his boy. He might join in himself, or he might not. Maybe we could do a fuck train with you at the front, me at the back, and the boy in the middle. Wait and see. At the very least we’re going to get a nice sun and swim, and a terrific meal out of the deal.” “Well, that sounds more promising. Jim, what did you mean when you said he was the guardian angel of WeHo?” “Alan is nothing if not unusual. He spends some hefty sums of money on community causes, and on helping out members of the gay community who are in financial straits. I couldn’t even guess a total, but it seems like I hear a new story about him helping someone or something every time I turn around. But he never tries to take credit. The opposite – if they want to list him as a donor or something, he always says it has to be anonymous. Aside from that, he uses his time making money and travelling. If there’s a country he hasn’t seen, I’d like to know where it is.” All of this conversation was making Steve more and more curious about the mysterious Mr. Bryars. When Sunday rolled around, he was all set to find out more. As well, he had saved up his load in his former professional way – just in case. When his guests arrived, Alan showed them to one of the three guest suites off the right-hand side of the immense living room to get changed into something more comfortable. Steve’s eyes were popping left, right, and centre at all the space in the penthouse, the furnishings which were all tastefully unobtrusive but plainly expensive, the outdoor garden around the suite of lounge chairs and the hot tub which he could see through the panoramic glass windows. The guest suite all by itself would have done justice to the upper floors of a luxury hotel. In a few minutes, they met their host back in the living room, ready to head down to the pool on the other wing. Alan had pulled a loose tank top over his brief swimsuit, while his boy of the moment, a tall and well-muscled young man who was now introduced as Ryan, was wearing a tiny string brief that accentuated his firm, round ass, but didn’t cover much else. Jim was wearing small shorts, but Steve had big, baggy jammers. Alan laughed as he said, “Drop the shorts, guys, let’s see what you’re going to show off when we get there.” Jim’s was a snug but less flashy brief. But Steve had… nothing. “Sorry, Steve, but in this building, that won’t do. People in the taller building on the next block can see it all. You have to wear at least something.” “My shorts.” Steve’s voice was a bit tentative. He was still leery of letting the dragon out where people could see it. “That won’t do either. Come here, let me find something for you.” In a few minutes, they were back. Steve was now wearing a high-cut brief that exhibited almost all of him to the world, the front plainly snuggled around a cock that was enormous even when relaxed. Ryan whistled loudly. “Now, Jim, you just have to lose those shorts and we’re good to go.” When the four of them entered the pool area, there were already a round dozen of hot men sunning or lounging in the water. All eyes turned their way. Normally, everyone would be looking at Ryan, or whichever other boy(s) Alan had accompanying him, but now it was Steve’s massive basket that was grabbing all the attention. Ryan noticed that, of course, and was inclined to sulk a bit as a result. Not wanting to sour the atmosphere of the day, Steve made a point of sitting down on Ryan’s other side from Alan so he could engage the boy in conversation. That turned out to be a smart move in more ways than one, because it also deterred the other men on the patio from trying to come over and interrupt. The onlookers assumed that this friendly chat was a prelude to Steve giving Ryan the fuck of a lifetime later on. That may have been true, but Steve was hoping to get it the other way around – which just goes to show how wrong people can be. After they’d sunned for a while, they got into the water and splashed around a bit. Steve, who’d always enjoyed swimming, did a couple of laps underwater before coming up to float on the surface. He was actually relaxing and enjoying the sensation of letting people see his large bulge socially, as it were, and not as part of his former professional life. It helped that the guys around the pool were giving him space and not swarming him. He also guessed that there would be plenty of talk all through the building later on. By now, though, Steve was well on his way to just saying, “Let them talk.” It was yet another attitude shift that he had to make, as he was completing the transition from Rod Rammer, Professional Dick, to Steve Rotherham, All-Around Gay Man. After an hour or so, they headed back up to the penthouse. In the elevator, Ryan asked Alan, “Daddy, how much time do we have before dinner?” “Dinner at seven, as usual. I need to be in the kitchen from six o’clock on.” “Good!” As soon as they entered the penthouse, Ryan turned to Steve and lifted his mouth for a kiss, at the same time palming the championship bulge in Steve’s tiny swimsuit. Steve had been expecting this, especially after he’d chatted Ryan up at the pool, In seconds, the giant head was pushing its way out of the waistband. It didn’t throw him at all, especially when he saw Alan making a similar move towards Jim. Two minutes later, the entire party was camped on Alan’s enormous bed after shedding their wet swimwear in the bathroom. Ryan had Steve’s enormous dick in his mouth, and was struggling to get more of it, as was common with first-time encounters. Alan, having now gotten Jim thoroughly revved up, had lain back against the pillows. He was stroking his cock gently, dreamily, as he watched Jim burying his face inside Ryan’s ass crack. Two hours later, after a fabulous dinner of prime rib with duchesse potatoes and a marinated root salad, the scene on the bed resumed, with all four of them in the same positions. Alan always loved watching his boy get it on with other men, and this scene was like a porn film brought to life – two hot daddies, one with an enormous fucktool, working his boy over from both ends. He was waiting eagerly for his favourite part – watching a hard, rampant cock pushing its way into his sexy boy’s hole. He didn’t have long to wait. Jim straightened up and slapped his hard dick against Ryan’s ass cheeks with resounding smacks, and then lodged the tip inside his crack and began to press inwards. Ryan dropped Steve’s cock for a moment, just long enough to say, “Yes! Give it to me!” before Steve grabbed him by the jaw and shoved his cock right back in and down the boy’s throat. By now, Ryan was managing to swallow a good three-quarters of Steve’s thirteen inches, and Alan was getting increasingly turned on by the sight of his boy being spitroasted by two men, one of them a legendary (albeit retired) porn star. But then the scene took an unexpected turn which soon had Alan pumping his cock even faster before he exerted self discipline, reminding himself to save it for breeding his boy later. Steve had grabbed the lube and pumped some out onto his hand. But then, instead of applying it to the Rammer, he applied some to Ryan’s painfully rigid cock, smeared the rest over and into his own hole, and then backed up and told Ryan to “Go ahead, put it in me.” It’s hard to say which of the two, Alan or Ryan, was more shocked, but Ryan recovered first. He was, after all, a classic example of the young, healthy, American gay male who would never refuse an ass so freely offered. Jim held still while Ryan slowly sank his eight-incher inside Steve’s tight, firm ass until he had it completely inside. Then Jim asked him, “Ryan, have you ever done this before? The fuck train?” Ryan shook his head no. “Okay, then, it’s all up to you. Steve and I will hold still, you just have to slide back and forth between us. Got it?” Ryan certainly got it in a hurry. In no time, he was sliding back and forth between the two older men while they urged him on with moans and exclamations. It was Steve who first said, “Faster, come on, faster. Pound me like you mean it!” Jim had to hang on for the ride as Ryan notched his speed up several gears. But there was no way it could last for long. As with most youngsters, Ryan simply got too excited, too quickly, and in just moments more he was slamming up against Steve’s butt with his hips while his quivering cock ejected multiple bursts of his potent young sperm deep inside Steve’s body. He cried aloud as he exploded, and that set Jim off right after, taking just a few more seconds to peak and to breed Ryan’s hot young hole. After another minute or so, they fell apart and flopped down on the bed, still gasping for breath. Alan hated to intrude, but there was something he had hoped would happen – and so far, it hadn’t. “Steve, did you cum?” “No, I didn’t.” “Would you like to take his load as well, my boy?” “Oooh, yes, daddy!” Steve remembered everything Jim had told him, and he knew that he was trapped. He pulled Ryan over to him. “Okay, Ryan, hop on. Just go easy on yourself.” Ryan had never taken such a huge cock before, and he had quite a struggle. Steve was transported in his memories right back to his very first time in Boston, as he’d watched Calum go through the same epic battle almost twenty years earlier. Finally Ryan pushed far enough to get all of the head inside. It was all he could manage. Steve took pity on him, and said, “That’s good enough. Here, roll on your side.” Steve rolled right with him into the big spoon position. He then started nudging Ryan’s ass gently, in a bit, out a bit, pulling the head until it was almost trapped in the ring again, and then popping it back inside. Then he held still and grabbed the shaft of his tool, giving it five ferocious yanks until his orgasm exploded deep inside the boy. Ryan was so full with those two loads from Jim and Steve that it was spurting out around Steve’s cockhead even before he’d finished loading Ryan up. Alan beamed with happiness. After Jim and Steve headed off to shower together in the enormous ensuite, Alan lay down with Ryan. “Tell me, boy, what did that feel like – when you were doing the fuck train?” “Daddy, it’s the most incredible feeling, getting fucked and fucking all at the same time. I got so horny, and I pumped the biggest load I’ve had in months into Steve’s ass. And he thanked me for breeding him so well.” Alan smiled. “It certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself. Maybe I should try that myself some day. Do you feel like taking another load tonight?” “If it’s your load, daddy, that’s the one I want most of all.” Alan beamed again. He knew Ryan was playing the game, saying what he thought his daddy wanted to hear, but he was impressed at how sincere Ryan sounded. Just then, Steve and Jim emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed again, to the spectacle of Ryan kneeling over Alan and sucking his daddy’s cock into a raging erection. Alan’s legendary politeness came to the fore. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. It’s very impolite of me, but would you mind terribly showing yourselves out?” Jim smiled as he responded with equal aplomb. “Not at all, Alan.” Steve added, “Thank you for a fantastic dinner and entertaining evening. Ryan mumbled something that sounded like “Goo nigh” around the tool in his mouth. After their guests left, it took only a couple of minutes more before he came off his sucking job, threw a brilliant smile of sheer lust at Alan, and then turned around and backed up onto Alan’s rigid tool. The truth was that Ryan, although pretty inexperienced to begin with, had turned into a complete cock slut since Alan had taken him on, and was always up for a good hard fuck and yet another good big load – so much so, in fact, that providing his daddy with a nice wet hole had become secondary to getting bred for his own pleasure. Alan didn’t mind a bit. He loved his newest boy’s enthusiasm for cockloads of sperm in his tight channel, and he definitely loved the way Ryan was learning to work his ass and stroke his daddy’s erection as Alan plowed into him. On this occasion, the amount of juice already inside Ryan’s fuck tunnel was squeezing out, making squishing and smacking sounds, as Alan drove his way in. It didn’t take long at all. Alan was immensely turned on by all that warm, wet sperm inside his boy’s hole, and his own cock became painfully rigid as he fucked – his need to cum, to breed, overwhelming all his normal methodical approach. In seconds he slammed down hard, blasting a third huge load into Ryan’s sweet ass, and then giving short, sharp little thrusts to force it as far in as he could get it to go. He then collapsed across his boy’s body, stroking the young man gently and kissing his shoulder as he stirred his cock around inside that hot ass. “Mmm, that was wonderful. Thank you, Ryan.” It was a measure of how pleased he was that he mentioned Ryan by name, instead of just calling him “my boy.” Down on the street, as Steve and Jim were walking home together, Steve confessed that the whole scene had felt a bit weird to him. “Why? Because Alan was watching us do his boy?” “No, not that. I’m more than used to having sex with people watching me. No, it’s because of the name: Ryan. It kind of freaked me out a bit because of the first Ryan I met, when I’d been in New York for about five years. It turned out that he was just a year behind me in high school back in Nova Scotia. He told me that my coming-out, in spite of the near-violent ending, had given him the courage to do it too – and there he was, scraping a hard living in New York City, without documents or anything.” “You had sex with him?” “Once. And then I gave him some good, fatherly advice a few times in a café or on the phone. Haven’t actually seen him in years. But this guy didn’t look at all like him. It was just the name that threw me.” Although that evening with Alan and Ryan ranked among the more memorable, Steve and Jim had a number of other entertaining encounters with various guys in and around WeHo. That aspect of their lives speeded up after Steve finished his college diploma program with highest honours, and promptly got a management job with a gay-owned company which operated half a dozen varying hospitality businesses in and around WeHo, Santa Monica, and Venice Beach, including their favourite bar, Shooting Stars, and their café of choice, The Baked Bean. Jim, too, got a nice little promotion in his office job with a finance company, and with the boost to their income they were able to relocate from their current apartment to the penthouse on the top floor of the building. It was a far cry from the palace in the sky owned by Alan Bryors, two blocks away, but it was certainly spacious and had a good view, so they were happy with the added space and natural light. And then, one day, the Hawaiian Nine called. Steve hadn’t talked to him in person for years, but they had touched base from time to time since that memorable trip to the Caribbean. Now, it was almost ten years later, and Steve’s life was totally different from what it had been then. Daniel, for his part, had risen higher and higher in the business, making his wholly-owned company, Hawaiian Nine Films, into a byword for excellence and hotness in gayporn. Much of the work was financed through the extra income he got from buying a totally different company, Twink Heaven Films, and rebranding it as “Twink Heaven by Hawaiian Nine Films.” They had him over for dinner, giving him a chance to meet Jim, and in his quiet way he got along well with the two of them in their new status as a couple. All the time, though, Daniel was assessing the chances of making his idea work, trying to get the measure of Jim and of his relationship with Steve. Jim, for his part, sensed immediately that vibe which told him that their guest was all about the business, the whole business, and nothing but the business. Jim certainly wasn’t relying on the comments Steve had made to that effect. He could tell that their dinner guest had something he needed to say, something big that was pressing on him to let it out. Jim was mentally crossing his fingers that this millionaire porn star and producer wasn’t going to fuck up their new life. Finally, after dinner, over another drink in the living room, Daniel let it out. “Jim, I’m going to include you in this as well as Steve, but both of you have to keep it strictly between us.” They both nodded. “My long-term plan: I’m fed up with the porn biz and I’m about ready to make my exit. Problem is, I really have no kind of backup plan for my life and no other sets of skills that are marketable, because I’ve done nothing but work in porn ever since I was – well, let’s just say “a few months past age eighteen” and leave it at that. I’m going to need to figure out my next move, a new career direction. Before I can pull the plug, I need to make a couple more really spectacular films. That will raise the value of the company to the point where I can financially secure my future when I sell it.” “And after that?” Steve was curious where this was heading. “I don’t know yet. I want to take some time off from everything and everyone, just to get my life and my head in order. I can’t do that around here, with people constantly prying and digging and spreading rumours about me. Kind of an Operation Fresh Start – like what you did, Steve, only not. But you’re the one who gave me the idea, when you vanished so thoroughly and then turned up again as half of an awesome couple.” “I hope it works out for you as well as it did for us.” Jim was genuinely sympathetic; he knew what the struggle had cost Steve, and he hoped Daniel would be able to get out as well. He also knew, by reputation, how rare it was for Daniel to be open with anyone else about any aspect of his life. Jim appreciated the trust Daniel was placing in them -- but he was still being a bit wary of where this was all leading. “So here’s what I want to do. As I said, a couple more really spectacular films that will take the sales right through the roof. I thought we should bring Rod Rammer out of retirement.” Jim was giving a very credible imitation of a man who had just seen Medusa face to face. His stony expression spoke volumes, even though he didn’t say a word. His worst fears were being realized. Steve could feel it coming out of him in strong waves. Daniel, too, had felt the social temperature drop, but he plunged ahead anyway. “It would make a great bonus scene for one of my last films being the one where the Hawaiian Nine fucks and breeds Rod Rammer on camera. I got the idea when I remembered how much you enjoyed me giving it to you after that shoot in Puerta Escapada.” A long silent pause followed. At last Steve spoke. “Daniel, I’d like to be able to help you out, but doing something like that – I’d have to think very long and very carefully, and we’d certainly have to talk it over between us. I can’t give you an answer right now, but I’ll let you know in a few days. And we won’t tell anyone else.” Daniel knew that the party was over with that. He stood, thanked them for dinner, and they saw him out the door. After he left, Jim said nothing, other than, “Let’s clean up and get to bed. I have an early start in the morning.” Nothing more was said until they were in bed together. Both were lying on their left sides, with Jim facing away from Steve. Then Steve put his head right on Jim’s shoulder and said, “I love you, Jim.” The only response was a sigh. “Why the sigh, love?” Jim thought long and hard about how he wanted to say what was troubling him. Then: “I’m afraid that this idea of Daniel’s could ruin our relationship, and I don’t want to lose you.” “You’re not going to lose me, I promise you that. You saved me from myself, and I’d be worse than a fool if I walked away from you. That’s not going to happen.” Jim turned over and looked Steve right in the eye. “You’re thinking of doing his film, aren’t you?” “Yes – or at least part of me feels that way. But I can’t figure out yet why I am getting that feeling. I need to sleep on it and try to pin down where that desire to say yes is coming from. Then I’ll know how to deal with it.” With that, Jim thawed out. “I love you, Steve.” They kissed again, and then fell asleep facing each other. But the tension over Daniel’s business proposal still hovered in the air.

Super hot piece of writing!

Chapter 8: The Great Reset By the end of his first year in Denver, Steve Rotherham was a changed man. He said that to himself one morning, as he studied the still-unfamiliar face in the mirror. Then he suggested to his reflection that maybe it was time for him to change his legal name again – and chuckled loudly. It really wasn’t necessary. The face that now gazed back at him out of the mirror had altered out of all recognition from the face of Rod Rammer, exotic dancer and porn star. Steve had let his hair grow out and allowed it to do so freely. Now the natural curls were plainly visible, and he’d adopted a new and shaggier hair style to emphasize the curly nature of his mop. He’d grown a lush new mustache and started dying his hair (and the stache) a rich blond, overriding the natural dark brown colour. Topping off the whole new look, he’d opted for blue-tinted contact lenses when he found that he needed to get glasses. In fact, he now looked far more like a seventies porn performer than anything else, a look about as far removed from pornstar Rod Rammer’s short, simple hairstyle as he could get. He'd gotten himself a new wardrobe too, letting his love of loose casual clothing take command of his appearance. Key to his new look was the addition of a topnotch brand of tight compression shorts that kept his one-eyed dragon under control and unobtrusive under his clothes. He was, after all, no longer under any professional necessity to dress in a way that emphasized his fitness or drew the viewer’s eye forcibly to his massive tool. For the first time in his life, in fact, he was looking and acting the way he wanted to, escaping from the prison of Rod Rammer to just become himself. It was, no question, a true liberation. The new look even extended to his workout gear, with big floppy sweats and shorts the keynote. It helped, too, that he’d found a gym which was well-equipped with individual shower cubicles, so he didn’t have to worry about being spotted and outed in the showers. Remembering all the times when Rod Rammer had flaunted it all over the place whenever he was at work made him laugh again at the abrupt and total reversal of his former behaviour patterns. In another lifetime, back in Exmouth, Adrian Pennyfather had been an indifferent student at best, doing well in classes that interested him but much less well in others. The years of determination and complete involvement which he had brought, as Rod Rammer, into his professional life now got turned with equal intensity onto his courses. As a mature student, his standing was of considerably more importance to his future, and he had shot through the whole first year, ending up with top-ten standings in every course. In the same way that he had done as a performer, he now shunned almost all distractions. Steve made no effort to have any kind of social life, refused to go looking for company, wasted no time on any kind of partying, and used his right hand for quick relief as needed. After a year of that, though, it dawned on him that he didn’t need to be quite so single-minded as he was accustomed to being. Now that he’d stepped out of the industry which had been his life for over fifteen years, he could pay a little more attention to the man and his human needs, instead of single-handedly devoting himself to the work, the whole work, and nothing but the work. Once he’d reached that point, he was ready to begin the final phase of his Great Reset, the phase which focused on the inward life of Steven Rotherham. In this field, just waiting for him to pay a little attention, there was one distraction waiting for him, a distraction which he could not avoid and did not want to avoid. He decided to let himself be distracted, right at the beginning of his second year in Denver. On a Friday afternoon. Steve was waiting anxiously in the lobby of Denver airport, right by the exit from security. For the first time in his life, he was hosting a weekend visitor – and not as part of a business deal. He’d sent the guy a couple of current photos and gotten back some snarky comments about his “new look.” Steve paced up and down nervously. He was looking right at the stream of people exiting from the security area when Jim came through, his face cracking into an enormous smile as he saw Steve waiting for him. They flung themselves into a first bone-crushing hug, and then Steve led the way back to the train for the ride into town, followed by a short walk from the nearest station to his apartment. As soon as they walked in, and the door closed behind them, Jim had his arms around Steve and began kissing him passionately. “Wow, Jim, you sure aren’t wasting any time.” “That’s right, my big boy wants to be let out to play!” They both laughed, but only for a second. The temperature was steadily rising as clothes flew left, right, and centre. Steve’s compression shorts held Jim up for an extra minute or so until he got his fingers into the waistband and skinned them off, and then he had his mouth on that giant pole, licking at the head for all he was worth. Steve groaned loudly, certainly loudly enough for anyone passing by to overhear him. “Fuuuck, Jim, keep sucking me. That feels so awesome.” By this time, Jim was over halfway down the shaft and still working his way down. “Pretty impressive for someone who never sucked the Rammer before,” Steve prodded. Jim came up off his task long enough to say, “I bought the dildo modeled on your dick to practice with, what did you think?” Steve laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to more moans as Jim worked harder and harder on his dick. But then he pulled away. “Come here, I want to have a turn too.” He led Jim into the bedroom, where the duvet was already removed. Falling onto the bed, Steve pulled Jim down with him, and then moved around into the sixty-nine position. As Jim went back down on Steve’s monster, Steve opened his mouth and attacked Jim’s cock. In no time, they’d fallen into a perfectly synchronized mutual suckfest – both going up at the same time, both going down, both choosing the same moment to pause and swirl the tongue around the head, then both again taking the opportunity to pause and contract the throat around the head three or four times in quick succession. Each of them felt like he could have been sucking himself, but there was the body of the other man right there before his eyes, the thighs enclosing his head, the butt cheeks falling naturally into his hands. In what seemed mere moments, both of them began to speed up, while still sucking in perfect unison, and it was plain that both of them were gunning for the finish line. The action got more and more heated, building up a great head of steam, but it was Jim who fired first, shooting the first bolt of his cum down Steve’s throat. But then, just as his second pulse shot out, he felt the first huge blast of Steve’s cream blowing into his throat, and quickly backed up so he wouldn’t choke on it. He’d seen enough of Steve’s notorious ten-shot orgasms and knew that he had to try to control it as much as he could – not that he could really make much progress in that line. Steve, on the other hand, was perfectly happy to keep still and let Jim’s load build up inside his cheeks as his own cock kept right on firing into Jim’s overloaded mouth. Once they’d finally calmed down again, Steve released Jim’s tool and swung around so they could enjoy a prolonged bout of snowball kissing. Sharing their loads with each other was something Jim had wanted to do ever since their first meeting, when Steve had avoided cumming, and he was thrilled to find that Steve was exactly on the same page and led the way for them to do it. After they’d finished, Steve pulled up the duvet and they snuggled down together under it. Jim in particular was tired after hours of travel, and quite happy to settle in for a snooze. An hour later, Jim awoke first and then woke Steve up, too. He could happily have gone on watching Steve sleeping peacefully for quite a while, but he had a couple of questions he wanted to ask. “Steve, we need to talk a bit. There’s a few things I want you to tell me. First, what made you decide to get in touch and ask me to visit?” “Easy answer: I didn’t want to go through life referring to you as the one that got away.” “So you’re looking at keeping me?” “Time will tell.” “Damn, I was hoping you’d say yes.” They both laughed. Neither of them was really surprised at all to find that the other was thinking along the same lines. The mutual attraction and trust had already been strong on that first memorable night they had spent together. “Obvious next question: why did you wait so damn long?” “I was remaking myself, and not just on the outside. I had to ditch a lot of internal baggage too, all the thinking and habits of a fifteen-year career in porn and exotic dancing, and it took time. Once I got all that squared away, I realized that I was ready to see you again – truly ready.” Jim smiled. But then he continued. “Second question: when we….” “Actually, that’s your third question.” Steve laughed as he said that. Jim threw Steve a reproachful look. “Ahem. As I was saying, when we first met, what made you decide that you could trust me and that it would be safe to let me know all about your feelings?” Steve grasped his hands and looked at him solemnly – too solemnly. “I trusted you because you were kind and thoughtful, you were a good listener, and most of all… well, I knew that it was safe to tell you all about my feelings because you had more than one bottle of Perrier in your place, and it wasn’t past the best before date.” Jim’s eyes widened in surprise for a second, until he caught sight of the twinkle in Steve’s eyes. “Smart ass!” He gave Steve a friendly slap on the shoulder and they both laughed. “Point taken, Jim. Now, my question: what would you like to do about dinner? Go out, order in, improvise from the fridge…?” “Let’s order in. I’ve done enough running around in the big, bad world for one day.” “Pizza, burgers, tapas, Asian fusion, or good old American pseudo-Chinese?” “Pizza is fine, anything but pineapple.” “Uh-oh, black mark there.” They both laughed again. The strength of the comfort zone was immediately obvious to both of them. Under the teasing, there was plainly a real affection for each other, and it was growing by leaps and bounds. Over the pizza and a bottle of wine, they began exchanging life stories. Jim was all prepared to hear about a great long list of sexual conquests and was surprised to get nothing of the kind. At first he was inclined to be skeptical about Steve’s ability to hold back and not jump after every cute guy who crossed his path but, as Steve kept reminding him, he’d been compelled by his career choice to act all his life as a professional top when he’d have preferred to be a bottom. As well, there was the corresponding reality that sex was professional too, that it could sometimes be fun, but was at least as often apt to be onerous – and there was certainly no personal happiness in doing it for dollars. It was a matter of business, nothing more. Beyond that, as Steve added pointedly, “The proof is in every one of my movies that you’ve undoubtedly watched more than once.” “Damn, busted.” “Trust me, Jim, those giant cumshots were the product of many nights of exerting self-discipline, of keeping other guys – and my hand – away from my dick. You’ve seen how many guys struggle and strain in videos to produce a couple of drops. That’s because they’re the ones getting laid every day of the week.” Jim nodded his understanding. Then he proceeded to share some of his own stories: the first wild flings as a youngster, the disastrous relationship with a selfish, compulsive liar and manipulator, then his last one, Julian – a relationship which had a lot of strengths to it but finally dissolved (slowly) after it turned long distance. Julian had been shifted by his employer to work in one of the less tolerant Asian countries, and a gay couple living together there was an utter impossibility. “We kept it going for six years at long distance, that’ll give you an idea of how much we cared about each other, but we could see no end in sight and finally agreed to let each other go – although that was painful for both of us. That was two years ago, and I’ve been on my own since then – until now.” There it was again – the unspoken thought that each of them was already looking at himself as half of a couple. Steve didn’t know what to say. In the end, he made no verbal response, just drawing Jim into a consoling hug. At last, Jim reopened the conversation. “So, tell me something else. Can you explain why you’re so much more turned on by being the bottom?” “Who knows? Right back the very first time I was ever with a guy, he wanted to fuck me because he didn’t think he could take my dick. I went with it because it was my first time, and I wanted to experience it all, as much as I could. After he fucked me and came in me, he changed his mind and decided that he had to take my cock as well. He only got a bit of it into him, but that was enough – and I came inside him. The whole night was great, and I was incredibly happy to have experienced so much all in one go, but right then and there I knew that I wanted to get fucked again -- and get fucked often. Well, it hasn’t worked out that way for me. Not so far.” “Let’s see what we can do about that.” Without another word spoken, Steve got up and took Jim’s hand to lead him into the bedroom. They got undressed again, and climbed onto the bed together, lying down side by side and making out while their cocks stiffened between them. Thirty minutes later, a blissful Steve was lying on his face with his thighs apart and a thick white trail of creamy seed flowing gently down his taint from his happy hole, while Jim lay on his side next to him, draping his arm gently across Steve’s back. After enjoying a long shower together, they fell back into bed, facing each other, and fell sound asleep right in the middle of a prolonged good-night kiss. On Saturday, they drove up to Winter Park in the Rocky Mountains and went for a long hike together – and Jim fucked Steve and bred him twice after dinner. On Sunday morning, they planned out a date (in three weeks time) when Steve could come down to Los Angeles to see Jim there and to explore parts of that city which he had never seen. In the afternoon, they nosed around in some of the most interesting areas of Denver and had a deluxe dinner in a fine steakhouse restaurant – and Jim fucked and bred Steve after dinner. On Monday morning, they awoke early. Steve got there first, and kissed Jim gently awake. “You’re in a hurry this morning, Steve?” Steve chuckled. “At my age, I haven’t got a whole lot of time to waste.” “And how old are you?” “Thirty-eight.” “Ah-hah! A senior citizen!” “Smart ass! How old are you, Jim?” “Just turned thirty-six. And I agree with you. We haven’t got a lot of time to waste.” “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that.” With that, he turned to Jim’s cock and began sucking to wake it up too. “I want you to give me this one more time before you have to go.” “After everything I’ve already done to you this weekend…?” “I think I want it even more now than I did on Friday night.” Steve adjusted his position so that he was lying off to one side of Jim, and so Jim could reach for his ass and begin stroking and squeezing him, and then start slipping a finger in and out of his well-used hole. In a few minutes, Steve came up off Jim’s now-erect cock and said, “I’m ready now. Ready for you to breed me again.” Steve rolled onto his back, and Jim moved smoothly on top of him as Steve was applying lube to his hole. He spread some on Jim’s cock too, and then lay back and lifted his legs up and back, allowing Jim to enter him. Jim slid his rigid tool into Steve, sliding smoothly and easily all the way until his hips rested on Steve’s buttocks. He twisted a bit, stirring his cock around inside Steve’s ass until he heard a loud moan which told him he had found the target again. With that, he lay down right on top of Steve, and they began kissing each other as Jim moved slowly in and out, showing a little consideration for Steve’s battered ass which would no doubt be feeling the pain of heavy use for the next couple of days. Steve didn’t care. He wanted it, needed it, welcomed the presence of Jim’s hard manmeat inside his colon. He continued practising the underused skill of stroking Jim with his active ass muscles, and Jim sighed appreciatively at the sensations. Now they were kissing each other with real passion as Jim worked his way in and out of Steve’s body, involving lips and tongue as equal partners with hands and cock and ass. Neither of them had any time to think about what was happening. The rational track in Steve’s mind which had always analysed every minute of his performance while it was happening had been silenced at last, for he no longer needed it. Jim’s hips were moving up and down faster and faster now. He could have pulled free and managed it more easily by raising himself up at arms’ length, but that would have meant breaking the connection between their mouths, and this he did not want to do. But then his mouth clamped down hard on Steve’s, and Steve, sensing the big moment, wrapped his arms around Jim, pulling him closer and more tightly against himself as Jim exploded yet again, saturating his colon with another huge burst of sperm. Steve then seized his own cock and with a dozen rapid jerks blew out another load into the small space between their bodies. They continued kissing without a letup as the energy of the wild morning fuck slowly dissipated around them. But then something else happened. Jim felt wetness against his cheek and broke the kiss to look at the tears flowing out of Steve’s eyes. At once, he was all concern. “Steve! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Steve shook his head, smiling through his tears. “I’m fine, Jim. I’m more than fine. For the first time in almost twenty years, I’m happy. Truly happy.” He reached for Jim to kiss him again. “Because of you.” “I’m happy too. Happy to be with you. Steve, I love you.” “I love you, Jim.” “You don’t think it’s too soon for us to say that?” “Not a chance. Like I said before, we haven’t got a whole lot of time to waste.”

Chapter 7: Crossroads Steve came home to New York from the Puerta Escapada trip feeling more and more discontented, even to the point of frustration with himself and his life. His scenes had gone well, he’d gotten a generous pay packet from Daniel’s new company, Hawaiian Nine Films, and he’d enjoyed a week of tropical sunshine. Perhaps most important, he felt that he’d made some progress in cracking Daniel’s prickly shell and building at least the beginnings of a friendship. From everything he’d heard about the Hawaiian Nine, that was the one thing that Daniel’s life was sorely lacking – apart from a family, and there had been many melodramatic rumours about what had happened to him in that department. It was just one of the paradoxes of Steve’s life that, while his Rod Rammer screen persona was demanding, forceful, and largely self-centred and self-interested, the real man under the character was none of those things. By nature quiet, kind, caring, and even gentle, Steve was now (at the age of 34) beginning to understand just how much stress the constant projection of “Rod Rammer” was causing him – and it was due to the disconnect between the character and his own personal truth. Part of the problem was that, unlike the screen or stage actor, he had to keep living his character 24/7, since any failure to do so could harm his career. His frustration stemmed from the fact that, like Daniel, he wanted to work with people who shared his commitment to doing this work as thoroughly as possible, bringing a full sense of immersion and involvement to every scene, every encounter – and once again, there had been Erik’s posturing and self-adoration (although he had worked much better after Steve had used the Rammer and the Ten-Squirt-Money-Shot to choke him), and James’s unwillingness to even try to perform. There had been too many Eriks and too many Jameses over the last few years, and as Steve moved into his thirties he had even less patience with that kind of dilettante nonsense. Then there was his frustration with himself. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the career path he had followed had been, in many ways, the path of least resistance. He’d let himself be seduced by the easy money he could make by just waving his huge cock around in public – a line of work which (as he told himself in a fit of self-loathing) required no particular skill or effort to improve. Not least, he was now reaching an age where he was more conscious of the ticking clock. It wasn’t just the fact that at 34 he was finding it more and more of an effort to try to keep himself in top condition so he could maintain good performance at all times. There was also the sure knowledge that, sooner or later, another cute young guy with an awesome cock was going to come along and knock him off the pedestal he’d occupied securely for over a decade. Finally, and not least, there was the nagging hole in his own personal life. Steve had always known that he needed a man by his side, a partner who could share life with him in all its possible variety, and he didn’t have a man. It just wasn’t possible to pursue a good relationship as long as he was working in this field – not the kind of relationship he wanted. He knew that he didn’t want to try to form that kind of bond with another porn performer, and definitely not while they were both still working. The truth was that the homebody in Steve’s personality was making its slow way towards the surface, and his desire to change career paths, to settle down, to have a home of his own with another man, was pushing harder and harder at him with each passing year. All these negative vibes combined to give Steve the feeling that his work, at times, was just like a prison cell, locking him within its confines. None of this deterred him from continuing to work, but it did slow the pace somewhat. His fees were high enough now that he didn’t have to dance constantly, or rush from one film gig to the next, just to pay the bills. He had reached a point in his career where he could (and did) accept an exclusive contract with the most top-notch of his regular studios, a contract which gave him the option of selecting film gigs on the basis of confirming in advance who his scene partners would be, always with an escape clause which stated that he wasn’t bound to proceed with some other model if the specified partner(s) failed to appear. His financial future was completely secure, not least because his older patron had retired and gone to live full-time in Costa Rica – but had let him keep the condo in New York at the same bargain-basement rent. This allowed him to squirrel away plenty of money, and to build up a healthy nest egg for his own future. Although they didn’t work together again for quite a while, Steve watched from a distance with pleasure as Daniel’s fortunes shot up like a rocket. The quality of his productions for Hawaiian Nine Films was the talk of the industry, and his films and performers regularly scooped significant numbers of trophies at every major gay porn awards presentation. Steve watched a number of them, and he was both flattered and amused that Daniel had mandated his signature style of money shots as the type of cum scene that he wanted from all of his models, even adopting it for himself in the appearance he made in every film. Apart from the money shots, every one of these films was made on a location shoot in a different resort area, and the incredible scenic views captured in the films made them into travelogues of the gay world, by day and by night. The scenic surroundings enhanced the sizzling sexuality of many of the scenes. It was a pleasure to watch Daniel’s work, undoubtedly, and since his films always managed to be incredibly hot, it was also a pleasure to work out a load or two while watching one of them – usually right after one of his own shoots, when his cumshots had dwindled down through overuse from “awe-inspiring” to just about what a normal guy would consider “a good one”. As his porn career slowed down, Steve used his spare time to begin taking online courses in business management and marketing, reasoning that such training would help kick the door open in any number of future career options. He also began focusing on conversations with clients in the business world, seeing if any pearls of wisdom would drop in his path as a result. One of these men told him, “Whatever you do, with your attitude, don’t ever think about going into human relations.” The irony. He had a good hearty laugh over that one later on at home. He kept working for a few more years, mostly out of indecision. He knew that the time was coming, and that he had to be ready to get out when the opportunity presented itself, but so far that had not happened. Steve knew that his heart wasn’t really in the work any more, but he was looking for a sign – maybe not a brilliant new star blazing in the heavens, but he’d settle for a road sign with an arrow pointing to the off ramp. That was his own term for what he needed, and the sign appeared in front of him during the week after his thirty-seventh birthday, when he was out in Los Angeles for a film gig. He'd completed his scene that afternoon, a rousing fuck and the usual massive cum shot into and over the swelling ass cheeks of a cute Scandinavian blond named Sven. But then, he had broken one of his own unwritten rules, setting up a date for that night with one of the cameramen, a muscular, sexy black guy. Steve felt sure he could get that man’s meat inside him and arranged to hook up at a well-known bar. Then, just as he was about to leave, the company owner came to him and asked him to take on one more scene in two days, as the planned top had just tested positive for some nasties. Helpful Steve agreed to the additional scene at once, and then Second Thought Steve realized that he had no way to contact Aaron, the cameraman. He knew that he’d have to go through with both commitments, even if his final cumshot for the scene in two days’ time was less than his usual epic load. He did take good care, though, not to get recognized by anyone. If he were to be recognized, he’d get swarmed instantly. He slipped quietly into the bar, dressed in baggy jeans and a hoodie, with the hood pulled low over his face. Then he leaned back against a wall and scanned the room looking for the tall, black stud he was to meet. After about thirty minutes, he realized that he’d been ghosted by Aaron. “Fuck it,” he thought to himself, “I’ll just get a drink and then leave.” And then he tried to muscle his way into the tight-packed mob in front of the bar. At an impasse, he glanced around, and saw that the guy right next to him was looking down, searching for a gap he could push his foot into to get closer to the bartenders. Before Steve could adjust his position, the guy’s eyes caught the bulge in his jeans, and his head swivelled up to catch Steve’s eye, at which point his own eyes widened comically. Steve leaned close to him and said, in an urgent undertone, “Don’t say anything – please.” “How about, ‘Let me buy you a drink.’ Is that okay?” Steve nodded and mouthed “Margarita” at him. Then he stepped back and let the other guy do all the pushing and shoving. He felt safer once he was a few steps out of the crowd anyway. In about five minutes, the guy pushed back out of the crowd with two margaritas in hand, and then steered Steve over to a quieter corner where there were a couple of free seats. Steve flopped into a chair with his back to the crowd of men in the club, and the other guy sat down across from him, planting the drinks on the table. “Before you ask, I’m not working tonight,” Steve said, by way of an opener. “I guessed that. I’m Jim, by the way. Why are you here, then?” “Just needed to get out for a breather. Day after tomorrow, I have to work with a real creep on my current, uh, ‘job’ (he emphasized the word with air quotes) – and I needed to get away from him for a bit. I was supposed to meet one of the crew here, but he ghosted me.” “His loss -- he got scared, huh?” “Story of my life, it happens all the time. If they only knew….” His voice trailed off. What had prompted Steve to let that bit of thinking loose, he couldn’t imagine, but the look on Jim’s face told him that this had been the right guy to tell. His secret was safe here. “What do you mean?” It was a sincere question. Jim sensed that he really needed to talk and was prepared to listen. Steve still hesitated for a few moments, so Jim prodded him a little more. “You can tell me; I won’t rat you out.” Steve sat and thought for a minute longer, and then reached a decision. Leaning closer, he said, “I don’t want to talk about it here. Do you know someplace quieter where we could chat?” “I just live a block away.” Steve tossed back the rest of his margarita. “Sounds good. Let’s go.” Jim swallowed his too, and then walked out of the club with Rod Rammer beside him – and nobody else in the place apparently aware of who’d just been that close to them or what a golden opportunity they’d all missed. Or had they? It seemed plain to Jim that the world-famous porn stud was hiding out tonight, but he wondered if the reason might have to do with something other than his career. They walked in silence down the street, around the corner, and Jim led the way into a building and up to his third-floor walk-up. He led Steve into his apartment and offered him a seat and a drink. “Thanks – but just a Perrier with ice if you have it. I can’t afford to drink too much the last couple of nights before a shoot.” “Take it with lemon?” “Yes, thanks.” Jim set up the glasses with ice and lemon, opened two bottles of Perrier, and set them down on the table, then sat next to his guest. Steve poured some for himself, and then sat there, staring at the bottle as he turned it slowly around and around in his hands. Jim was already expecting his next question, and Steve went right where Jim guessed he would. “So, how did you spot me?” Jim pointed at the clearly visible lump in his loose jeans. “Do you really have to ask?” Steve groaned. “There’s just no way to hide the damn thing. Let me tell you, it’s not a blessing, it’s a curse.” “That doesn’t stop half the tops on the planet from wishing they had one like yours.” “I know. Idiots have no idea what they’re wishing for. In films they have to pair me with bottoms whose holes are pretty much wrecked. I have no idea what a nice, tight newbie feels like because they all run screaming when they see it.” “I’d have run away when I was just getting started.” “You don’t know the half of it. Several studios have wasted time and money on at least a dozen scenes that never got finished because the bottom either couldn’t take it or else he lost his nerve and took off without even trying. But that’s not why it’s a curse.” “What then?” In his films, Rod Rammer was always an aggressive, take-charge, go for it now, and no hesitation kind of man’s man. Right now, though, the guy sitting beside Jim was so hesitant that it made him seem like a completely different person. Jim realized that he was seeing the real man, not the screen persona. Steve took a deep swig of his Perrier. At last, he spoke. “It’s a job. The money’s good, and I earn it. I put in a good day’s work and the guys financing the films are as happy as pigs in shit. But, see, they don’t give a royal flying fuck if the people working in front of the camera are happy. It’s just “this is who you are, this is what you do” and no arguments. “And you’re not happy?” “No, I’m not. I go through the motions because it’s my job and I pride myself on doing that job thoroughly. I’ve been doing it for years, as I’m sure you know. I’ve had some fun moments with some great guys, and some awful moments with some rotten ones. Everybody thinks I must be happier than a pig in shit myself because I get to fuck and breed so often with so many world class studs and cute twinks under me. But I’m not happy. Truth is, I’m really getting fed up with the whole fucking deal.” “Because…?” One last long moment of hesitation, and then he let it out. “Because I really prefer to bottom.” Jim’s jaw dropped halfway down to his own lap. Steve went quickly on, the words spilling out in a rapid gush of feelings as if he’d been trapping them inside himself for far too long – which, of course, he had. “Yeah, I know, what kind of a weirdo nutcase am I, sitting here with the dick of death that so many guys dream of having, and I’d rather have someone else shove his dick inside my ass. But that’s it. I want to get fucked. Not just once, or twice – a lot. It’s so damn frustrating! Not one guy I hook up with will ever do it, because all they can think about is trying to get my cock inside their holes. And the studios? No way are they going to finance a movie with that in it. If it ever gets out that the Numero Uno Top Stud in gay porn is really a bottom at heart, my career is toast.” Tears glistened in his eyes, as he let all of his deep-held frustrations boil over. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “Come here, buddy. Closer.” Jim got his arms around Steve and hugged him, stroking his back to soothe him and help him calm down. Steve put his head down into Jim’s shoulder and Jim held him close. His shoulders quivered a few times, and Jim reassured him calmly, quietly, “Breathe. Breathe deep. It’ll help.” They sat like that for a few minutes while Steve slowly got himself under control. Then he lifted his head up and said, “Sorry for letting go like that.” “It’s all good.” In after years, Steve would say that this was the exact moment when he retired from porn. He could feel the caring and consideration flowing from Jim, in strong waves, and sensed that he had found a kindred spirit at last. And then, Jim sealed the deal. He raised one hand, grasped Steve by the chin, and pulled him closer still until they were looking into each other‘s eyes. Even the colour of the eyes was a perfect match – near-identical slate grey on both men. With a smile, Steve moved to kiss Jim. That set the game afoot. They kissed tentatively at first, then more deeply. As they kissed, Jim slid his hand down Steve’s back until it reached his ass. One squeeze with his hand, and the kiss caught fire. Jim was kneading those tight buns firmly, and Steve had his hand clasped around Jim rapidly growing cock. But then Steve stopped and pushed Jim abruptly away. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this. Don’t get me wrong, I want you to do me -- but I can’t cum. I have to save that load for the creep.” Jim nodded his understanding. It made sense. Sure, you could cum a few times the night before and still summon up some sort of dribble of a money shot for the cameras – but a “Rod-Rammer-Ten-Spurts Money Shot”, the kind that was featured in the breathless blurbs on every gay media source you could imagine, needed to be prepared carefully and saved for the real moment of truth. Jim didn’t let that worry him. He just went right back to kissing Steve, telling him between kisses to just let him know if he felt dangerously close and they could stop. Then Jim stood up, drawing Steve up with me. They walked down the hall to the bedroom and began undressing each other. And that’s when Jim got the feeling that he was stuck in some weird kind of dream. Here he was, with the most famous (or infamous) giant piece of man meat in the gay porn industry staring him right in the face -- but the owner of that meat, the notorious Rod Rammer, didn’t want Jim to be giving his gigantic dick any of his attention. As much as Jim had fantasized about getting that enormous thing inside him (there weren’t many gay men who hadn’t), he knew that he wanted to -- no, needed to -- give Rod Rammer, just for once, the kind of sex which the man behind the screen name craved so badly. So, he spun Steve around, dropped to his knees, and buried his face in the tight crack between those small, curving ass cheeks. That was weird too. Somehow, his massive dick and equally huge reputation made Steve seem much bigger than he actually was. He had broad shoulders, yes, but they were almost disproportionately large compared to the rest of him. His waist was tight, and his butt cheeks looked almost twink-tiny. Once Jim got going, though, he stopped worrying about it. He was versatile, loved bottoming and topping equally, and was more than happy to have such a sweet ass begging for his attention. As Jim lapped and tongued away, Steve was moaning loudly above him, and muttering things like, “Jim, that’s incredible – don’t stop!” After a few minutes, he began prying into the hole with his tongue, twitching the tip to get that ass to loosen up and open. It didn’t take long. Steve might not get fucked that often, but he knew the drill perfectly well, and knew how to relax and let his muscles loosen. Before long, Jim had his tongue digging right into that hole, alternately with his finger, which he twisted and corkscrewed around to loosen that neglected ass even more. At last, he felt Steve was ready. Jim stood up, grabbed the lube, and greased up his cock – then shoved a couple of lubed-up fingers inside that channel. Steve moaned again. “You ready?” “Damn right. Give it to me.” “Get on your back.” That was Jim’s favourite position. He loved watching a guy’s facial expressions, and looking into his eyes, connecting with him while screwing him. On this night, making the connection personal and intimate was probably more important for this bottom than it had ever been with anyone Jim had ever fucked before. Obediently, Steve laid down and hoisted his legs, pulling them back to his shoulders. It was a sight for sore eyes, with his hard dick stretching itself halfway towards his face. Jim didn’t think that the old expression, “the third leg,” had ever looked so appropriate. He knelt there, looking Steve over, and then moved the head of his respectable seven-incher to rest against the hole. Jim pushed – gently, but firmly. The head popped inside quickly, to his surprise. But of course Steve was a pro, and he knew how the game worked. Jim held it there until he sensed that Steve was ready for more, and then began to lean and push. Slowly, his entire length disappeared inside Rod Rammer’s tight ass. He was tight. Jim could easily believe that the Rammer had only ever been fucked a handful of times and hadn’t had a cock in him for years. He took it easy, pumping gently in and out while kissing Steve with full tongue, until he felt the tight hole beginning to work with him. Then he began to pick up the pace. Jim used all the best techniques he’d mastered over the years, varying the speed, the angle, and the rhythm of his thrusts. Steve’s almost-virgin-tight hole was stroking his tool too effectively. He tried to think about anything else to avoid peaking prematurely -- the quarterly results from his company, the long-range weather forecast, the probability of a drought in coffee-growing areas -- but he just couldn’t stall the inevitable. This was going to happen. Jim was cumming -- and cumming very soon. “I’m gonna cum – where do you want it?” “Inside me, of course. Fill me up, give me your fucking load!” That’s all it took. Jim’s cock exploded inside Rod Rammer’s now-loosened fuck tunnel, pumping shot after shot of cum into him. Jim collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, his still-hard cock firmly lodged inside that satisfied ass. And Steve was definitely satisfied; he was purring like a contented cat. “I’m sorry I came so fast. I don’t know what got into me.” “Do you hear me complaining?” Jim laughed and admitted that, no, he hadn’t been hearing any complaints. Then Steve added, “Besides, who said I’m letting you off with seeding me just once?” It took a while (Jim certainly wasn’t eighteen any more), but eventually his cock rose to the occasion and delivered a second load inside that sweet hole, after a much longer and more vigorous fuck that included a much greater variety of positions. After that second climax, as Jim cooled down and then slid out, he realized that Steve was dozing off, and looked at the clock – 1:15 am. Jim leaned over and murmured in Steve’s ear, “Stay with me tonight, okay?” Steve nodded, mumbled a sleepy “Thanks, Jim,” and checked out. Jim kissed the back of his neck, pulled the covers over both of them, and went to sleep, embracing him as his happy ass cushioned Jim’s satiated dick. Around 7:30, in the morning, Jim awoke to the unmistakable sensation of a hot mouth working on his dick. He stroked the head as it bobbed up and down and said, “Good morning.” “Goo morrn” was the response, a little mumbled, which wasn’t surprising as his mouth was rather full and busy. It only took a few minutes before Jim felt his sperm rising again. He warned Steve that he was about to cum, and Steve redoubled his efforts until Jim’s morning load pulsed out into his mouth, to be quickly swallowed. He came up, kissed Jim, and said with immense satisfaction, “That’s something else that the damn studios will never let me do!” He seemed to Jim to be a completely different man this morning, bright and cheerful, with a real (not faked) sparkle in his eyes. That made Jim feel good. And it nerved him to make a little request. “Can I get you to do a little something for me?” Immediately, Steve looked guarded and suspicious. “What?” “Nothing heavy or awful,” Jim said. And then he outlined his request. Steve demurred at first, but Jim assured him that it would only be for a minute, just long enough to take a no-faces picture. He had his camera in place on the tripod, as always, and ready to go. At last, Steve agreed. Jim dived onto his cock, sucking and slurping at it until it came up to full mast. He had to keep rising higher and higher off the bed to keep up with it. Then, he grabbed the lube, greased that pole and his ass, tossed the lube aside, grabbed the camera remote control, and proceeded to sit down on the most famous cock in gay porndom, facing Rod Rammer’s feet. Jim was only able to get about half of it into him, but that was enough. Two pictures later, he got a wet cloth and washed off Steve’s dick and his own ass. Then he showed Steve the pics – and Steve agreed that they were discreet enough to keep him from getting in trouble with his current exclusive studio contract. The most important detail was that Jim had gotten the distinctive mole on the underside of the shaft safely concealed inside himself before hitting the shutter button. They enjoyed a languid shower together – no more fucking or sucking, just a lot of pleasant sensual caressing with and without the soap. Each of them quickly found out another similarity between them: both were touch-sensitive in a lot of areas of the body, not only the usual main target zones. After a late, leisurely breakfast, Steve had to go. They exchanged phone numbers, and then Jim asked him if he could share his real name. “My name is Steve – Steve Rotherham.” “Jim Radstock.” “I’d like to see you again, Jim.” “That would be great,” Jim replied, and really meant it. Somehow, though, it seemed unlikely that the two of them, living on opposite sides of the country, would ever meet again. Six months later, his studio announced that the legendary porn star, Rod Rammer, was retiring “to pursue other interests.” That announcement triggered an avalanche of anguished protests on the studio’s social media channels. Steve got hit by a much more pleasant avalanche, of congratulations and best wishes from dozens upon dozens of people whom he had met and worked with, from New York to Los Angeles, not to mention Canada and Europe. The respect and affection all of those people felt for him was unmistakable. Steve was totally overwhelmed by the love shown to him from across the industry. Jim smiled broadly when he read that Rod Rammer was retiring “to pursue other interests,” certain that virtually no one among his legions of distraught fans, and very few people even in the porn trade, would have the slightest idea what those “other interests” might be. He sent Steve a congrats and best wishes text message. Steve smiled even more broadly when he read that one. He certainly hadn’t forgotten Jim. He sent off a quick “Thank you, Jim” in reply. As it happened, Jim was wrong. There were a few people who easily read between the lines of the announcement – among them Calum and Matteo, both of whom had maintained contact as friends with Steve throughout his meteoric career. The Hawaiian Nine, too, certainly got the unspoken message, loud and clear – as well as drawing inspiration from the spoken one. In his characteristic thoughtful manner, Steve sent thank you messages to everyone who had written to him. Then he registered for a college business administration and marketing program in Denver, a city he had rarely visited. He sent a detailed letter of thanks to his patron in Costa Rica, informing him that he would be vacating the New York condo on August 31 and would arrange for it to be given an end-to-end deep cleaning, and thanking him sincerely for all his help and support through the years. After that, Rod Rammer disappeared, as thoroughly as if he truly had dropped off the face of the earth.