daddybear54

Chapter 3: And Just Like That, It’s Christmas On the final and darkest Wednesday of November, Thor received this message on a special secured e-mail account for which he had been handed a security access code in person by Lars. _________________________ November 27, 2026 To: All Christmas Club Apprentices From: Christmas Club Governor Subject: Christmas 2026 Gathering This year’s Christmas Gathering will take place from December 26, 2026, to January 1, 2027, and will be held at the private island resort lodge of Club Governor Emeritus Widdifield. Your individual sponsor will be responsible for making all arrangements for transportation from your home community to the international airport on the island of Barbados. From there, limousine and yacht transfers will be arranged to the private island on December 26. Return transfers to Barbados Airport will be during the morning and early afternoon of January 2, 2027. The entire group will convene for dinner on the evening of December 26 at 8:00 PM. On the morning of December 27, each of you will be assigned a personal room in the party wing. This will be in addition to the private suite in the resort which you will share with your sponsor. Beginning on the afternoon of December 27 at 5:00 PM you will be in your personal room each day from 5:00 PM to midnight. Each personal room has private toilet and shower facilities, as well as a house phone and a minibar. All necessary basic supplies will be provided. If you wish to bring specific clothing items, fetish items, or personal toys, please do so. Exceptions: [1] Whichever club full member is in the personal room with you at 7:30 PM will be responsible for escorting you to dinner and back. He will direct you as to how you are to be clothed for dinner. [2] After dinner on December 31, 2026, you will be escorted directly to the large function room on the main floor for the New Year’s Eve party. [3] Personal members may also, at their own discretion, take you from your designated room to another apprentice’s room for more extensive activities. Outside of the designated personal room hours, your time and your activities will be entirely at your own discretion. Any tips you receive during your stay will be yours exclusively. The Club’s full members trust that you will enjoy and take complete advantage of all your many opportunities during this sunny Caribbean holiday. _________________________ Thor smiled in an inward way as he read this document over a second time. He had no trouble discerning the meaning hidden behind the innocent-sounding words of much of the text. His task would be to jack and be jacked, suck and be sucked, rim and be rimmed, fuck and be fucked – and maybe more -- with as many different partners out of the 16 older men at the October meeting as he could get through in the space of a week. While he was thinking these horny thoughts -- and getting more than a little hard in the process -- his phone pinged. He opened it, read a message from Farouk, and promptly hit the callback button. “You’ve read the memo. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?” “More than just interesting, Thor. Abdul just let something slip when I mentioned to him that I’d gotten the memo. He told me there could be anything up to forty older guys at this orgy. That’s the full membership of the Christmas Club according to the rule book. We just met the tip of the iceberg at that first meeting!” Thor’s mind worked through a rapid recalculation. It was shaping up to be a very busy Christmas season indeed, and plenty of hard work for what he’d expected would be a holiday. “It could get a bit overwhelming, but I’m definitely up for the challenge. What about you, Farouk?” “Kind of scared, you know why.” “I know. But look, bring all your toys and things with you and you can always put on a show and get them wound up and shooting off that way.” “True. Okay, Thor, I’m in.” A month later, Lars and Thor set out to fly from Oslo to London, and from London to Barbados. _________________________ At five o’clock in the afternoon of December 27, Thor was lying on the bed in his designated private room, waiting for his first caller. He’d been preparing for this for some time, swearing off from any sex or jerking off for the last 5 days, and he was both well rested and horny. He was finding it hard to avoid reaching for his cock, which was sticking right up in the air above his crotch, glistening in the subdued light. He’d come to the room directly from the pool area, where he’d been alternating between swimming and tanning. He had a t-shirt and some shorts in a bag, as well as a jockstrap, his hat and sunglasses, but he had walked off the pool deck and down the hall in the party wing wearing nothing but his brief red swimsuit and his sandals. Pulling the swimsuit down once he was in the room had been all the stimulation he’d needed to grow a full hard-on at top speed after 5 days of abstinence. He jumped and stiffened his back instinctively, then forced himself to relax and smile, as he heard the door opening. When it shut, he heard the click and a discreet beep as the “Privacy” lock was engaged. Mark walked into the room, and Thor’s cock jumped in sudden interest. He’d been watching Mark at dinner the night before, noticing the man’s powerful muscular build and the generous bulge in his well-fitted trousers. A few streaks of silver in his carefully styled hair did no harm. Thor had always liked older men. He’d gotten an even better eyeful out by the pool this afternoon and had certainly noticed that Mark was looking his way often, and with great interest. Mark grinned broadly as he saw what was waiting for him on the bed. He leaped onto the bed and laid down right on top of Thor, grinding his bulge against Thor’s hard-on as he began kissing the younger man. Thor got a hand in between them as they were making out and began undoing the buttons on Mark’s shirt. Sliding his hand inside, he began squeezing Mark’s bulging pecs and twitching his fingers over the nipples. Mark gave out a moan of appreciation. Thor upped the stakes by pushing Mark’s shirt backwards onto his shoulders. Mark disengaged for a moment, shrugging the shirt down and off, and then returned his attention to the young man on the bed under him. Thor now swung his head over to the side so he could begin teasing and sucking on Mark’s nipple. Mark responded by playing with Thor’s chest in the same way. Playing with Thor’s body this way was making Mark even harder. He rose up on his knees and gestured to his belt buckle. Thor got onto all fours and crawled towards Mark, reaching up to Mark’s waist to start undoing the belt, and then going on to unfasten the trousers and lower the zipper. The bulge at once began pushing its way out through the opening. Mark went through some more movements to push his trousers all the way down, lifting one knee at a time to slide them right off. With that layer out of the way, Thor began kissing and sucking the bulge in Mark’s tight underwear. He could feel Mark’s tool getting even bigger and harder, and he blew through the fabric, letting Mark feel the heat. Then, he grasped the waistband and began to ease the underwear down, until Mark’s big nine-inch cock sprang out and slapped Thor in the face. “Suck that!” Mark’s voice had a forceful edge which might have scared a newbie. But this certainly wasn’t Thor’s first rodeo. Without wasting time on preliminaries, he went right down on that big thick chunk of meat, sucking inch by inch until he had the entire shaft in his mouth and the head right down his throat. Mark groaned again. Up and down Thor’s head bobbed, giving Mark an expert tongue bath which soon had the older man quivering with excitement and repeating the words, “Oh, god… oh, fuck… oh god…” like a mantra. He leaned forward, running his hand down Thor’s back until he was caressing Thor’s smooth, firm ass and sliding his fingers deep into the crack. As his vocal utterance got more choppy and his breathing faster and harsher, Thor pulled reluctantly away. “Why did you stop? I was just about to fucking cum?” “That’s why. I’ve got better plans for your load than just down my throat.” As he was saying this, Thor turned around, presenting his beautiful ass right in Mark’s face. Mark couldn’t resist. He dived right in, kissing and licking that crack, savouring the taste and smell of Thor’s man sweat, the musky aroma of a ripe ass crack. The deeper he went, and the more he worked on the button, the louder Thor’s moans and cries of excitement grew. Mark really loved feasting on a young man’s ass, and he was having a field day with this one, while Thor was getting more and more turned on by the tongue action. Thor’s cock was fully warmed up too, leaking precum in a steady flow. Mark caught a bit of that on his tongue and pulled away. “On your back, now!” Thor obediently rolled over and lifted his legs up over his chest. At once, Mark dived in again, this time giving a minute of sucking time to Thor’s cock. He wanted to get all that delicious clear dick-honey down his own throat. At the same time, he was working his hips up closer, ready to put his big hard nine-incher to work and put Thor’s ass through its paces. “You ready for this now?” “Let me have it!” Mark planted the thick head against Thor’s tight ass and pushed forward, slowly but irresistibly, all the way down to the bottom, to the point where his hips were tightly clamped against Thor’s butt cheeks. Thor was mentally thanking his lucky stars that he’d worked his ass over with a dildo earlier on. In another room, down the hall, another and even larger dick was putting another ass through the gears. In his mind, Farouk was worried. The older Ukrainian man under him, Oleksii, looked much frailer than most of the men he’d seen so far at the gathering, and he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances by fucking Oleksii too hard and injuring him. But Oleksii insisted. In a guttural, heavily accented English, he ordered Farouk: “Give me hard. Fuck me deep. Want your cum!” Farouk complied. Oleksii’s ass at least was still strong, the hole gripping tightly at Farouk’s big tool. He started slowly, driving into the older man’s tunnel. It took a bit of time for him to work around some of the obstacles, but at last he had a clear shot and was able to begin reaming that hole all the way to the bottom. Pulling out. Thrusting back in. Oleksii reached back, grabbing at Farouk’s muscular butt, pulling him in farther and deeper on each stroke. Farouk had raised himself on his arms into a push-up position, rising and falling faster and faster as he drove himself towards climax. From the louder and louder wailing, it was obvious that Oleksii was enjoying the experience just as much as Farouk, if not more. So, Farouk put it into words. Leaning down, he spoke right into Oleksii’s ear. “You want me to give you more?” “More. Yes, more.” “You want me to cum in you, shoot my whole load deep inside you.” “Yes. Give me cum!” Farouk drove into the willing ass even faster, and suddenly Oleksii let out the loudest wail yet as his ass clamped down hard on Farouk’s tool. “Cumming!” Farouk forced his way one last time through that suddenly steel-hard ring and exploded all the way up in Oleksii’s fuckhole. His dick kept quivering and pulsing, shooting out more and more. At last, he pulled slowly out and watched as the lava flow of his own cum started pouring in slow motion out of Oleksii’s gaping hole. He bent down and sucked up all the cum he could get. Then he laid down beside Oleksii, turning to face him and kiss him, exchanging that warm juice with him as he did so. They caressed each other gently as they shared the cum load between them, gradually easing their breathing until they fell asleep. Seconds later, back down the hall, Mark exploded deep inside Thor’s ass, giving him a similarly large load. Thor quivered and moaned as he felt the warmth spreading through his guts. But he only had moments to enjoy the sensation. Mark wasn’t done yet. He pulled out, rolled Thor onto his side, and got done behind Thor, ready to fuck him in the big spoon position. His cock slid back into Thor’s ass and he resumed pumping, but much more slowly. “Please make it last longer. This is too good to end in a hurry.” “That’s exactly what I’m doing, Thor. I want to make this last too.” Mark and Thor kept it going for over an hour longer. Mark pumped in and out of Thor for a few minutes, then pulled out for another time of kissing each other. He slid back in for some more fuck strokes, and this time when he pulled out, he rolled Thor over and spent some more time eating his ass. He then sat on Thor’s face to enjoy having his own ass eaten. Mark continued to lead the dance like this, taking Thor through a whole range of different positions. He fucked Thor standing up and pressed against the table. He fucked Thor by having the young man sit down on his dick while he sat in the chair. He picked Thor up, holding him up in his arms as Thor bounced up and down on Mark’s dick. In between these experiments, Mark and Thor worked through all kinds of licking, sucking, kissing, and fingering. Thor was enjoying all of this very much. As a young man with a long list of young gay friends, he was used to encounters which blew up fast, happened hard, and ended explosively. Two men taking their sweet time to make each other feel good was a new concept to him, and he was finding that it turned him on even more. “I’m about to cum again, Thor. How do you want me to breed you?” “”Standing up again – that felt incredible.” Mark pulled Thor to his feet again, turned him to press his face against the wall, and pushed back inside Thor’s well-worn ass. Thor groaned as Mark speeded up the action, driving his long, thick tool faster and faster into Thor’s ass, driving Thor crazy with lust. His balls were aching, his need was enormous after this long buildup, and he wanted Mark to cum inside him and to make him cum at the same time. Mark was now pounding Thor at top speed, a mighty tattoo of drumbeats as his hips smacked Thor’s cheeks over and over. And then it happened. Mark slammed one last deep stroke across Thor’s prostate and erupted, filling Thor’s hole yet again with his cream. Thor yelled “Fuck” in a strangled voice as he felt Mark’s cream filling him. His cock leaped up and down before erupting an enormous lava flow of sperm which smacked against the wall and then ran down slowly towards the floor. Half an hour later, Mark and Thor were still cuddling each other on the bed. It had been a peak experience for both of them. Thor was certain that Mark had prepared just as he himself had done, swearing off for a number of days and paying special attention to his diet. He said so, and Mark laughed sheepishly. “You’re right – and I know you did, too. Face it, you don’t get this kind of performance or endurance from doing it three times every day. But look, it’s almost 7:00. We need to figure out what you are going to wear for dinner. Suggestions?” “I’ve got my swimsuit, a jockstrap, and my brief underwear. And a couple of tight shirts.” “Model them all for me.” For the next fifteen minutes, Mark laid on the bed, sprawling out luxuriously in the aftermath of the fuck fever, while Thor strutted and turned and posed seductively in front of him. Finally, he made an executive decision. “Stick to the swimsuit. It looks fantastic on you.” “Shirt?” “Don’t need one. None of the other apprentices will wear one either. It’s okay, they always turn up the heat in the dining room, so you won’t freeze to death at dinner time. Now, let’s hit the shower.” They enjoyed a long, sensuous shower, stroking and caressing each other, kissing, and fondling as the water flowed over their bodies. They took turns washing each other up and down, and then just stood, locked together, letting the water loosen their stress and wash away their nerves. In time, they stepped out, dried each other off, and proceeded to dress – or underdress -- for dinner. “So, do I sit with you?” “If you like. But usually, the apprentices all group together at one end of the room while the club members all move down to the other end. After all, Thor, we all want to exchange notes.” With a lewd wink and a dirty laugh, Mark led the way to the door, and they set out to walk to the dining room.

Chapter 2 Learning the Ropes “Questions, Thor?” The moon was spreading a sparkling trail across the placid waters as they walked down the boardwalk bridge leading to the guest bungalows. “A few minor ones, and one big one.” “Start with the big one.” Thor took a deep breath. “I’d like to know, for the long term, what you’ve gotten me into here.” Lars chuckled. “That’s the good news, Thor. I haven’t ‘gotten you into’ anything. I’ve put you in the way of an opportunity that could change your life into something completely different from what you had imagined a week ago. Whether you choose to take that opportunity or not is entirely up to you. You can choose to join the Christmas Club, or not. Just one ask from me: if you’re deciding you don’t want to join, just let me know as soon as possible.” Thor mulled that one over for a minute. “It’s hard to say if I want to join in when I don’t really know what it is I’d be joining – especially in the long term.” Lars chuckled again. “I understand. I felt the same way when I was invited twenty years ago. It’s just that we have an unwritten rule about not asking and not talking much about it – sort of ‘whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ deal. Except that we never meet in Vegas. But I can fill you in a bit.” “That’s all I ask.” The remainder of the slow walk back to their bungalow and the time as they undressed and climbed into bed was taken up by his explanation. As Lars wrapped up, he added on an answer to one question which Thor hadn’t asked. “And just in case you were wondering, no strings as far as I’m concerned. It’s great fun playing with you, but there’s no relationship here. Not even a – what do they call it now? – a situationship? After all, we don’t even live in the same place.” Another clue. He’s not from Oslo then. Thor’s alert mind ticked off another point. “So where do you live, Lars?” Lars laughed again and flung out an arm in a dramatic gesture. “I am a citizen of the world.” Thor joined him in laughing. “Really, I don’t live anywhere, in the sense of having one definite home base. I’m from Stavanger originally and keep a house there, so that’s my address of record for the Norwegian government. But I travel most of the year on business, and have condos in New York, London, Dubai, and Singapore. And what that business would be comes squarely under the heading of ‘we don’t ask and we don’t tell.’ Now, if that’s satisfied your curiosity enough for the time being, can we stop talking and get down to business?” Thor chuckled again as Lars reached down and manipulated his cock. “I guess I can run on that for now.” This as his tool sprang rapidly to life. This time the two of them moved easily into a sixty-nine, sucking on each other’s cocks until first Thor and then, moments later, Lars exploded. They sucked, they swallowed, and then Lars swung back around to lay his head on the pillow next to his young protégé. And then they slept. The next morning at breakfast, Lars told Thor that he was going to be busy all day and into the evening – “catching up with my friends” as he put it. “I’ll be out and about right through until tonight, so if you want to get together with anyone you met last night, it’ll be fine to bring him back here. Tomorrow we leave for the airport at two o’clock, after lunch.” Damn! This guy can see right through me! Thor gave a rueful laugh. “There’s just no hiding anything from you, Lars. I’m going to do my packing first and then meet one of the guys.” “May I ask?” “Oh, so now he wants a situationship.” They both laughed. “I’m going to touch base with Farouk.” “That’s the young fellow sitting by you last night, yes?” Thor nodded, “Yes, he’s another first-timer like you, and from the looks of him that was quite the base he had that any of us would enjoy touching. Have fun going for the home run!” Ninety minutes later, Thor opened the door to admit Farouk. Thor was wearing just his minimal red brief swimsuit and Farouk’s eyes widened. It was obvious that the young Scandinavian beauty was already somewhat aroused. “Come on, Farouk. Let’s get in the pool – for starters.” Once out on the terrace, Farouk lost no time shedding his shorts and shirt, revealing an equally slim-line yellow brief. Thor whistled. “Wow. They sure gave you the giant economy size, didn’t they?” Farouk’s cock was pushing as far up as possible, and its owner had been forced to angle it a bit to the side to keep it contained. He’d also had to lift the sides of his string brief as high up on his hips as possible. Even with those precautions, the head was already starting to lift the narrow waistband away from his muscular belly. The view in the back was just as provocative. Farouk amused Thor by getting on his back in the pool and swimming back and forth at a lazy pace. The pool wasn’t really big enough for proper swimming, but it was a great way for Farouk to keep showing off his endowment, and since it was still growing and now pushing right out under the waistband, he was putting on quite a show. After a couple of minutes, he sat down in the warm water beside Thor and the two of them began making out, with plenty of tongue and several busy hands adding to the excitement. Thor decided he should make the next move, so he stood up, turned his back to Farouk and climbed up to stand on the step. He then pulled the waist of his swimsuit down to reveal his smooth round ass, pushing the suit still farther until it dropped into the water. He stepped out of it, tossing the suit onto the deck and then knelt down on the edge of the pool with his ass thrust out towards the Egyptian stud. Farouk wasted no time, yanking his own suit off and then diving right in and eating Thor’s firm buns, deep crack, and tight hole in a frenzy of lust. It didn’t take long. Thor began moaning, quietly at first but then louder and louder until Farouk slapped his butt and whispered harshly, “Shut up! You’ll have all the neighbours swimming around to take a look!” “Fuck, yeah! We could give them a show!” Farouk redoubled his sucking and slurping, adding a finger in Thor’s hole to the mix. As he rotated the finger and then added another one to it, Thor was getting more and more active, twisting back and forth and flexing his butt muscles as hard as he could go. Farouk now had Thor’s ass as wet as he could get it. It was time. He stepped up and rubbed the head of his uncut cock, standing a full ten inches almost straight up, into Thor’s crack. As he teased Thor’s hole, he reached down with his spare hand and pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of his shorts which were lying nearby. Squirting the lube onto his fingers, he began working it into the hole. He then pulled out another bottle and handed it to Thor. Thor inhaled deeply, drawing the metallic fumes down into his lungs, first one side and then the other. Farouk waited patiently, still teasing the hole until it suddenly relaxed and twitched, opening and pushing out. He grasped the rigid shaft, planted the head firmly against Thor’s hole, and leaned on it. Thor had never taken such a big piece of meat, but the poppers had loosened him up and he opened up, letting Farouk get the bulbous head inside him. Thor let out a gasp and a loud grunt of “fuck!”, then remembered to breathe deep breaths. Another hit of poppers helped too. Then he looked down between his legs and saw the full size of the tree trunk Farouk was pushing into him. Another involuntary cry of “Aw, fuck!” and his hole relaxed still further. In a few more minutes, Farouk had succeeded. His entire thick, hard manhood was buried all the way inside Thor’s ass. Thor was struggling. He wanted that cock, welcomed it, did what he could to help it out, but it was a real strain for him – not just the length but the thickness even more so. But Farouk, having gotten inside, wasn’t going to take “No” for an answer. He began a slow in and out motion, pushing all the way up inside Thor’s straining hole, and then sliding down and out until just the head was clenched inside the muscle ring. Over the next couple of minutes, Farouk slowly ratcheted up the speed of his fucking motions as Thor’s hole got progressively easier to work with. Thor was still straining, but he took it, he needed it, he wanted a fuck for the record books and Farouk was giving it to him. Farouk’s hip bones were smacking loudly against Thor’s lush round ass on each stroke. “Fuck! I can’t hold it. I’m going to shoot!” Farouk’s sudden exclamation lit Thor’s fire too. “Do it! Fucking cum inside me!” Farouk’s thrusts were getting irregular and hitting harder too. He grunted a few times, then let out a roar and shoved his huge tool all the way up into Thor’s body and let the volcano erupt. Thor felt his insides warm up. Pushing his hand down against his abdomen, he could feel Farouk’s thick head jumping and pulsing inside him. Farouk slammed into Thor a few more times as his epic orgasm continued. At last, the pulsations died away and he gasped for breath. Then, in slow motion contrast to the high-energy fucking of a moment earlier, he let his tool slide slowly out of Thor’s body. Also in slow motion, a tidal wave of white cream followed it out, dripping down into the water by the pool’s edge as Thor’s ass struggled to close up again. Farouk flopped back down into the pool, gasping for air after his sudden burst of energy. Thor sat down again beside him, and they stroked each other gently as their breathing and pulses returned to normal. But then, as he turned to kiss Thor again, Farouk realized something. “Shit! You didn’t cum.” “That’s okay, I’ll get my chance soon enough. I’m head of the line to lay a load into your hot muscle ass.” Farouk turned his head away, mumbling something and Thor realized. “Farouk.” No answer. “Farouk, look at me.” He grasped the handsome Egyptian gently by the chin and swung him slowly around. “You’ve never been fucked?” He didn’t really have to ask. The fear was there in the liquid brown eyes staring back at him. Farouk nodded. “Yeah. But just once, and it hurt like hell. My uncle. He… he forced me.” Thor stared in shock. Farouk gulped for air and then went on. “I mean, like, I wanted it, I already knew I was gay, but he just ripped me open. He was crazy drunk. And I had to go to the hospital to get fixed up.” “Shit. How old were you?” The answer was barely audible. “Thirteen.” Thor suddenly exploded in rage. “I’d want to kill that bastard.” But then he felt Farouk’s hand resting gently on his mouth. “That’s just what my father said. His own brother. And it wasn’t just words.” Thor stared at him, appalled. “When he found out I was gay, he thought his brother had turned me that way. I tried to tell him, but he had gone crazy with rage, he wouldn’t listen. Wherever we go when we die…” and he stopped dead, gulping audibly before going on. “I hope… I just hope they’re talking to each other again now, forgiving each other, wherever they are.” “Your father’s dead too.” “The firing squad.” Thor folded Farouk in his arms, holding him close as he broke down and sobbed. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would fit the enormity of Farouk’s pain and hurt. He could only hope that Farouk was getting the message through his touch. At last the emotional storm worked its way out of Farouk’s system and he raised his head. “Sorry for letting go like that.” “It’s okay, Farouk. You need to let it out, so let it out.” “It’s so hard. I’ve only ever told all this to one other person.” “The man who brought you here.” Farouk nodded. “His name’s Abdul. He wanted to take my cock just like you did. And then he wanted to switch. He’s a good man. I told him and he said it was okay, we didn’t need to do it. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to. I play with it myself, with my fingers, my toys, and it feels great. I shoot off like a fountain when I fuck myself with my vibrating dildo. But as soon as it’s another guy and he reaches for my ass, I just freeze right up and clamp down like my life depended on it.” Thor looked at him. So handsome. So frightened. “After what happened, I’d be frozen too. But look, Farouk. I’m not trying to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. It’s just what you want, whatever you’re ready for.” Farouk shook his head in amazement. “Where were all the decent men like you and Abdul when I was young?” He shook his head again. “So this is what scares me about the Christmas Club – that I’m going to meet some guy who’s top only, I’m going to freeze on him, and I’ll end up getting blacklisted from the whole thing. And I need this, Thor. I need it! Not for money, but to give me some self-confidence, to help me get over being paranoid about dating because of what happened, all of that!” “That might happen. But look at who you’ve met so far. Yoshi, last night, he was so shy and gentle and it’s obvious that he’s 100% bottom. And then there’s Abdul, who sounds like a really great guy, and Lars – my sponsor – he’s just as thoughtful and easy-going.” “And there’s you,” Farouk added, the smile coming back at last into his face and his voice. “So that’s four good guys you’ve met, and no sign of trouble yet. Pretty good odds. Come on, Farouk, let’s go inside and get cleaned up and we can talk some more.” A long shower full of gentle touches and kisses followed. They washed each other down with their hands, taking turns with the shower head to rinse every part of each other. After they were dried off, they got dressed and Thor called for some room service for lunch. Another long conversation turned to the whole business of the Christmas Club, and what it was all about. At least, they knew it was about older men having sex with younger men, but they were both wondering about how it was organized and what was expected of them as newcomers. Putting two and two together, with the hints Thor had gotten from Lars and the rather different bits which Farouk had picked up from Abdul, a fuller picture began to appear. And now Farouk was looking scared again. “I don’t know, Thor. Can I even do this? What if I get with one of those daddies that I don’t know yet and he won’t take no for an answer?” Thor’s mother-hen side came to the surface again. “Just make sure you’ve got the resources to make your own way home if he throws you out. And something else… look, you’ve got my number, here’s what you do. Once you find out where you are and who you’re with, you let me know. That way, there’s someone who knows what the score is with the Christmas Club and knows how and where to get you help to you if you need it. Okay?” Farouk nodded. “Okay, that’s enough serious talk, I want to get some more action out of your beautiful cock before dinner time rolls around.” They both laughed, as he took Farouk’s hand, led him to the bed, and then began to undress him. They fell across the bed together, the heat steadily rising as Thor pulled Farouk on top of him and then got them into position to suck each other’s cocks in a sixty-nine. Farouk gave Thor’s dick his best treatment, sucking it deep, kissing and licking along the shaft and around the head, humming as he got the head deep into his throat – he had mastered all the tricks. Thor was struggling much more with Farouk’s huge tool, but he was doing pretty well at getting most of it inside his mouth, even if he couldn’t completely deep-throat the thing. Farouk eventually worked his way down onto Thor’s balls, then down his taint and began eating Thor’s ass. Thor reciprocated, feeling Farouk loosen up a bit as he washed down that beautiful ass crack, then began licking at the hole, caressing it with his tongue as he felt Farouk giving his own ass the same treatment. Both of them were giving off moans of satisfaction. That’s a good start for him. He’s taking this rimming play and liking it. Thor could feel his own ass loosening and blooming. He knew that it was time, and he needed that huge tool back in his ass. He rolled onto his back, spread his legs apart, and lifted them into the air. “I’m ready, Farouk. I want you inside me again.” Whether because of having already been stretched that morning, or because of the bonding that had taken place between them, Thor found it much easier going this time to get Farouk’s big sledge hammer inside him. And, because they had already blown off some steam earlier, they were able to take their time and enjoy the experience much longer. Farouk enjoyed fucking Thor in missionary, because Thor was flexible enough to fold himself double and pull Farouk right down on top of him, enjoying the body-to-body contact and the intense making out. But then, Farouk pulled out and rolled Thor onto his face before entering him again, lying full length along Thor’s back and wrapping his arms around Thor’s body as he plowed deep inside. Then it was Thor’s turn to roll Farouk onto his back and climb on top, sitting right down onto the full length of that huge man meat and pumping up and down as the head kept bumping against his prostate. And that brought Thor off, grunting and moaning as his dick convulsed, spraying several massive squirts of cream up over his pecs and abs. That was Farouk’s cue to pull Thor up and off so he could get on top again, lick all that warm cream up into his mouth, suck the remaining trails of it off Thor’s cock, and then exchange it all with Thor in a passionate kiss, ending when both swallowed their share. But they weren’t done. Both of them were still hard, and Thor was already stroking himself again as Farouk sank back inside him, big spoon to Thor’s little one. “Fuck, yes! Never had someone do me like this. Don’t stop! It feels so great!” “Feels great to be inside you this way too. Going to keep fucking you like this till I shoot my load inside you.” “I want that load. Give it all to me, fill my hole with your sperm.” “Yeah – gonna fill you up all the way.” Farouk was pounding into Thor faster and faster, and Thor was matching him for speed as he pounded away on his own dick. Both were so turned on that this explosion was going to happen soon, for both of them. “Oh, fuck! Drive it into me! Cum in me!” “Fuck! Gonna cum… in your hole… shoot my load up into your guts....” It wasn’t just the dirty talk. Farouk’s thick head was nailing Thor’s prostate on every stroke, and Thor’s moans and cries showed that he was just as close as the stud plowing him. “Do it! Shoot it! Oh, man, you’re gonna fuck the cum right out of me!” “Take it… take it… fucking cumming… now!” With a last ferocious driving thrust, Farouk forced his way deeper inside than ever before as he exploded into Thor’s fuckhole, right at the same moment that Thor blasted off a second load, just as big as his first cum had been. The two of them lay there, heaving insanely huge breaths as they slowly calmed down from their double climax. At last, Thor spoke. “Unbelievable… what an incredible fuck. I’ve never cum right at the same time like that.” “Neither have I.” Farouk’s huge tool was still lodged inside Thor, still hard, and neither of them showed any real urge to disconnect. At last they got up, went into the bathroom for another shower, and then pulled on their swimsuits to go back outside and relax in the pool for a while longer. As they were sitting there, arms around each other’s bodies, Farouk sighed. “What?” “I was just wishing I felt ready to take it the way you did. I’d really love to have you be the one to teach my ass how good it could feel.” Thor kissed him. “Thank you. Wherever you are, when you do feel ready, there will be a good man who is the right one to take you through that experience.” Thor was no fool. He could tell that Farouk was trying to express love for him, at least at some level. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling drawn to the young Egyptian hunk too. But he kept the brakes on, having already learned the hard way that he simply wasn’t matured enough or ready to settle into a relationship with one man – and he guessed that Farouk wasn’t really any more ready than he was. At last, Farouk sighed and got up. “I’ll have to go. It’s about an hour to sunset, and Abdul wants us to have dinner in the restaurant for this last night.” “It’s all good, Farouk. Lars is off and about through the evening, so I’ll just call up some room service for dinner.” When Farouk was all cleaned up and dressed again, Thor walked him to the door. “Thank you for an amazing day, Thor, and for being so supportive and understanding.” “And thank you, Farouk, for giving me an ass ache that I’ll remember for a long, long time.” They both laughed before Thor went on. “Seriously, it was a great day – great fun, and a great new friend as well.” “Then, thank you – my friend.” And they hugged and kissed for several minutes longer before Farouk went his way. Hours later, Lars returned to a dimly lit room – and was a little startled. Everything was neat and tidy. Thor had taken it upon himself to call housekeeping to come and remake the bed, and he had tipped the housekeeper well for the trouble. Likewise, he had called room service to clear away the dishes after he’d eaten and again tipped the server well for the two trips out to the bungalow. Now, Thor was lying in bed, watching a classic movie on the giant TV screen. He looked pleasantly drowsy. “Hello, Thor. The suite is a lot neater than I expected. Didn’t Farouk come after all?” “Oh, yes. He came and spent the day here. He had to go because his elder, Abdul, wanted to have dinner in the restaurant. But we had a great time all day.” Lars was even more puzzled. That last remark certainly hinted at wild fun and games, but there was an oddly thoughtful, almost sad, note in Thor’s voice as he spoke. So Lars privately resolved to say nothing more. After all, it was no business of his unless he really did want a situationship or more after all – and that he certainly did not want. “Glad you had a good day. I’ll just get cleaned up and then we can get some sleep.” “Good. The movie’s almost over anyway.” “I don’t recognize it. What’s the title?” “Tight Little Island.” Lars chuckled as he headed to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, Lars laid down on the bed, on his side, facing Thor – who at once rolled towards his older companion to kiss him goodnight. As they embraced, Lars instinctively ran his hand down Thor’s back to caress his ass, and Thor flinched at the touch. “Ah, you did have a good time, didn’t you?” “Did you?” “Touché. As my former partner in England used to say, ‘Ask no questions and you’ll get told no lies.’” “Precisely.” Lars laughed again, at the shrewd way in which Thor had diverted his curiosity and turned it back on him. He made a mental note for the file which he was compiling on Thor: Thoughtful, clever, quick responses, and not easy to catch off guard. In five more minutes, they were both asleep.

THE CHRISTMAS CLUB Chapter 1 The Annual Meeting Lars was facing the big mirror over the dresser as he tidied his hair. His eye, though was actually fixed on the attractively naked young man sitting on the end of the bed behind him. Lars had met Thor less than a week earlier, in a shopping mall washroom, when he had spotted the cute young blond covertly eying his tool sideways as they each released a stream into the urinals. Even though it was mid-morning, it had been plain that Thor was ready, and more than ready, to get into some action. Within a minute after Lars stepped closer to him, they had their hands on each other’s tools in a classic “let’s fuck” handshake. At 40, Lars was apt to take a bit longer to get going, but Thor was half his age and had needed only one touch and squeeze to shoot right up to a full erection, his seven inches jutting up and out at a proud, aggressive angle. So aggressive, in fact, that he simply couldn’t squeeze it back behind his zipper fast enough when the door creaked as another man entered. The newcomer had taken in the scene at a glance, nodding approvingly and winking at Lars as they passed him on the way to the exit. In ten more minutes, Lars and Thor were naked together in a suite of the adjacent hotel. Despite his forceful name and aggressive erection, Thor proved to be the kind of quiet young fellow who enjoyed being manhandled. That suited Lars right down to the ground. In two minutes, he had his eight-inch spear buried deep in the younger man’s throat. Four minutes after that, his tongue was lashing and drilling in the deep valley between Thor’s beautifully proportioned ass cheeks. Three more minutes found Lars buried deep in the hole, driving and thrusting with his entire eight inch length deep into Thor’s snug ass tunnel. Lars was enjoying himself more than he’d expected he would. Thor might be young, but he was skilled at working his ass muscles to give his partner’s cock a delightful ride, and his busy butt had Lars moaning appreciatively as the older man pounded deep inside his hot young ass. Lars had changed up the position several times, first letting Thor sit on his spear and ride up and down on it, then picking the young guy up and pinning him against the wall, legs over shoulders as Lars drilled full force into him. Then he’d dropped Thor onto his face on the bed and lay on top of him, nuzzling his partner’s back and shoulders as he fucked straight down into the delightful ass under him. Those deep strokes brought Lars off the first time. An hour later, give or take a few minutes, after Lars had dropped a second big load into Thor’s hot young fuckhole, he had invited Thor to join him that night for a week-long trip (with all expenses paid) to a resort in Mauritius. Thor hadn’t even bothered to pretend to think it over. He’d dashed off home to grab his passport and get packed (“You’ll need a few nice clothes,” Lars had said) and was back within the hour. Then it was off to Oslo Airport, where they snagged the last flight to London. After a late supper in the airport hotel’s glass-walled restaurant, another wild round of fun and games with Lars slurping all of his two loads our of Thor’s hole (before adding a third one for good measure), they’d curled up together and enjoyed a good night’s sleep. The next day, after a late and leisurely start, they’d left the hotel on a pre-arranged late checkout before joining the ongoing overnight flight to Mauritius. A deluxe limousine awaited them at their destination for the ride from the airport, bringing them quickly to the deluxe resort on its own private coral sand beach, where they’d settled into a generously spacious overwater bungalow. In no time, they had shed their travel clothes and pulled on swimsuits before heading out to the terrace. It was perfectly screened from view from all of the neighbours. It was the first time that Lars and Thor had really been able to take a good look at each other in broad daylight. Thor had enjoyed to the full the sight of Lars’ hot, hard body as he made his way to the plunge pool and stepped down into the water. Once Lars turned around and sat down on the underwater ledge, he’d enjoyed in turn the way that Thor’s snug, minimal swimsuit clung all around his insistent, semi-erect cock and full, round ass. As soon as Thor climbed down into the pool, Lars drew him over to sit down, an eager hand already clutching at Thor’s butt. At once, they began making out hot and heavy, with duelling tongues plunging into each other’s mouths as their hands groped and squeezed and rubbed the two growing bulges. After a minute, Thor got up, climbed onto the rim of the pool, and sat down on his haunches, pulling his tiny red swimsuit down over his ass cheeks as he did so. Lars immediately swung around and plunged his face into that tempting deep valley, eating and tonguing Thor’s hot ass as fast as he could go. Thor moaned in delight as Lars expertly pushed his tongue into the hole, opening Thor up and getting him ready for a hard cock. But Lars suddenly pulled away, slapped Thor’s bare ass, and hissed quietly, “Get down in the water – now!” Just as Thor dropped obediently back into the pool, he caught the throbbing sound of the engines as a dive boat full of snorkelers from an adjacent resort came chugging by. The two of them waved at the boat, getting several friendly waves in return. All the time during this interruption, Lars had his other hand hard at work under the water, palming and squeezing Thor’s bulge. After the boat had passed out of sight, Lars got up on the rim of the pool and bent over, sliding his swimsuit down to offer Thor his ass. Thor dived in right away, licking and sucking while pushing a finger into that inviting hole. His cock got even harder under the water when Lars moaned, “Fuck, yes! That’s so good. Get your cock into me now, dammit!” Although Thor preferred to play catcher, he was never one to say no. Thor drew Lars back down into the pool and then planted his cockhead against the older man’s hole. After a minute of pressure, he felt the hole give way and his cock moved slowly inside. Lars groaned, hissed, gritted out his words through the tension, “Fuck, that’s so hard… haven’t had a dick in me for ages… push it right in there, get it all inside me.” Thor had always fantasized about fucking out in the open air, doing it in broad daylight, It was bonus that he now found himself fucking this hot, muscular daddy, burying his cock quickly and repeatedly in Lars’ tight, willing hole. Just the realization that he was living out his long-held fantasy was enough to override his normal brakes, and he fired off a big load inside Lars almost before he knew what was happening. Being young and well-trained, he was able to keep right on plowing without any delay. But Lars changed the game up again. He pulled away from Thor, spinning around and growling, “Time for you to get it.” But Thor dodged away from him and dived under the water. Lars watched with amusement as Thor chased down and captured in his mouth a couple of small traces of his cock cream which had escaped and were drifting lazily in the pool. Then he came up, smiling, and kissed Lars, letting the recaptured sperm swish around between their mouths. After a moment, Lars broke the kiss and spun Thor to face the wall – then aimed his dick into Thor’s crack and leaned over his back, pushing deep inside the younger man’s muscular ass. Lars, too, was immensely turned on by the public nature of their coupling and exploded inside Thor within a few minutes of hard-driving fuck action. They kept kissing for another minute or two as they recovered their breath from the wild action, but then Lars said, “We’d better get inside before we get the sunburn of a lifetime. Didn’t even take time to put on sunscreen!” The meeting resumed in the enormous walk-in shower, and Thor took advantage of the mood to fuck and breed Lars again, taking a little more time to enjoy the process before going for the grand finale. Over the next few days, their holiday idyll in the sun continued. It was all relaxing, all fun, all enjoyment, all amid the tropical paradise of the resort and the well-nigh perfect weather. All this time, though, Thor was getting more and more curious. Much as they enjoyed the days spent snorkelling, the lengthy soaking in their private outdoor pool or the hot tub in the palatial bathroom, the lazy lunches and deluxe dinners on their terrace, and the frequent wild sexual episodes in the gigantic bed (or out of it), he could tell that Lars was getting edgy. Several times, he’d spotted Lars reading over a lengthy printed letter, with a schedule attached. He hadn’t asked any questions, but he had deduced (accurately) that Lars had some business to deal with while they were here. Then, there had been the morning when they’d decided to have breakfast in the restaurant for a change of pace, and he’d spotted Lars exchanging covert glances with a brown-skinned man at another table. On their fifth day, Lars had finally said something. “Thor, we have a formal meeting to go to tonight for dinner. We’ll need to be dressed to walk along to the main lodge and the restaurant. We’ll leave at sunset.” “”Formal as in jacket and tie?” “No, a good shirt, trousers, and dark shoes will do.” Thor heaved a silent sigh of relief. He was a casual guy and hated having to get dressed up in a suit. This cryptic announcement had left him full of questions, but he held his peace. Being a travel-date “boyfriend” to an obviously rich man was a new role for him, but he had the good sense to keep his thoughts private and wait for Lars to set the tone. As the two of them sauntered into the restaurant that evening and were escorted by the host to a private dining room, Thor got two of his questions answered at once with just a quick look around. There wasn’t a woman in sight anywhere, and every one of the nine older men already in the room had a sexy younger man standing close beside him. Thor immediately recognized a couple of the younger men as hotties that he had spotted while roaming around the resort, either at the bar in the main lodge area, or on that picture-perfect beach under the swaying palms. He’d made the right guess, too, as he now realized, when he’d seen those young men wearing swimwear as skimpy and provocative as his own. With drinks in hand, Lars and Thor began making the rounds of introductions as more guests arrived behind them. Thor’s agile mind picked up several more details before they had gone halfway around the party. The men were an assorted lot from all corners of the globe. One of them was the man he’d spotted Lars looking at in the restaurant the previous morning. Despite their diversity of origin, or perhaps because of it, all the men in this miniature United Nations were conversing fluently in English. What intrigued Thor most of all was the realization that all of the older men knew each other. However, only some of the younger men present greeted Lars by name, while others appeared to be strangers to his wealthy partner. If that was the right word – perhaps “sponsor” would have been nearer the mark. Thor was feeling more and more with each passing minute like a debutante being formally presented at court. The cocktail hour carried on for closer to two hours. Thor found himself getting into conversations with almost all of the older men present. He also had a chance to chat with a couple of the younger guys. As he worked his way through a second margarita, he loosened up a good deal, joining freely in the laughter that now echoed through the room. He grinned from time to time, too, when a roaming hand brushed against his bulge or momentarily cupped one of his firm butt cheeks. Thor was no fool. He could guess that this “meeting” was eventually going to end up in various bedrooms in the resort – and he was definitely up for that, in more ways than one. As it turned out, he was absolutely right – but the grand finale wasn’t going to be quite as straightforward as he was thinking. It was well past dark before they finally got the call from the head waiter to sit down to supper. Out of the corner of his eye, Thor had spotted a couple of servers roaming around the room and placing name cards at the four square tables (set for eight guests each), always after a quick, quiet exchange with one of the older guests. Having noted that, Thor was not altogether surprised to find himself seated next to Yoshi, an older Japanese man, while his neighbour on the corner was Farouk, a studly young Egyptian whose sizable bulge in his snug, tailored trousers had already caught Thor’s attention. Conversation flowed easily around the four couples at the table. None of the young fellows in the party had been seated at the same table as the older man with whom each of them had arrived. There was Lars, Thor noticed, sitting at another table next to a young hottie who looked Polynesian. The meal was light on quantity (a sensible plan so late in the evening in the tropics) but of the very finest quality, as were the wines served with each course. There was only one detail which didn’t quite fit the picture. At the end of the meal, each of the older men filled in what appeared to be a scorecard of some kind which Thor didn’t see clearly as Yoshi had turned half away from him. Farouk and Thor exchanged puzzled glances at that. Then the white-haired gentleman acting as the chair of the meeting got up to speak. In a bland, business-event voice, he thanked everyone for coming, with a conventional wish that he trusted that everyone was enjoying the meal and the resort as a whole. Then he added on a sentence which sent Thor’s eyebrows notably higher than usual. “I will look forward to seeing all of you again in two months’ time, gentlemen.” Thor did a quick mental calculation. It was late October now; two months would bring them to Christmas.

Spectacular fuck story! Thank you!

Chapter 5: The Crowning Moment George stirred slowly awake, conscious only of a distinct feeling of well-being. For the moment, he had forgotten where he had gone to sleep the night before. He had slept very deeply and peacefully, a thing which did not always happen when he was living ashore. Daylight was shining around the edges of the heavy curtains at the windows, but only a little, and he wanted to get up and look out – not just to see what manner of day it might be, but also to try to remember where he was and why. This certainly wasn’t his home in Jamaica, wherever else it might be. He pushed aside the richly-embroidered quilted coverlet, and slid out of bed, padding over to the window in his stockinged feet. Prying the curtains aside, he noted first the sheer size of the glass panes in the window, proof positive that this was a truly wealthy home, and then gazed out at a sunlit vista of symmetrical formal gardens, centred around an elaborate fountain. It was all a far cry from his much more modest home down by the harbour on Port Royal Point in Kingston, and even farther removed from the low deck beams and sloping deck of the captain’s cabin on board Egeria.. This whole expedition to England, right from the outset, had turned into a huge eye-opener, in more ways than one. Speaking of eye-openers, he swung back to the room behind him, to see that the bed covers had already been thrust aside all the way by his bedmate. Ah, yes, that was young Matthew, the aptly-titled Earl of Butcombe. He was lying face down on the bed now, his pert and firm buttocks rising out of the covers with a distinct air of invitation. Memory returned in full force. George had travelled for months, making the long and tedious voyage from Jamaica to Portsmouth aboard the West India packet, to attend at the court of Queen Anne, and to make a personal but highly informal application for a letter of marque. Such a letter of marque, once received, would license him to use his own vessel as a privateer or private ship of war and to prey on the commerce of England’s enemies. In the Caribbean, that could mean any of Spain, France, the Netherlands, or Portugal, according to the rapidly-shifting currents of diplomacy, dynastic marriages, and the terms of peace and war in the eighteenth century. In theory, the practice of issuing letters of marque by colonial governors had ended before George had been born in 1692. In practice, he had heard, the letters could still be had, but only by applying in person in London (and applying very much on the quiet), and only with some kind of sponsorship from the higher echelons of English society. George had already approached the Duke of Bridgwater, an acquaintance of his late father, with a written request. A return letter from the Duke’s private secretary assured him that his request might possibly be granted, but only after he had appeared in London and paid his respects to the Queen and to the various other leading figures at the court. The Duke, the secretary had further informed him, would sponsor Treston to enter the court, and invited Treston to reside at his London town house during the weeks when the court convened at St. James Palace. In closing, the secretary had informed him (a trifle haughtily) that full court dress was essential and that he ought to arrive in London at least a month before the court assembled, to acquire the appropriate clothes before it was time to move into the Duke’s house. The whole tone of the letter reeked of privilege and of the belief among the English aristocracy that men like George were uncouth bumpkins from the outer fringes of the wild lands. So George had sailed from Kingston in the spring of 1722, aboard one of the regular packet ships which carried mail, passengers, and small items of cargo between the islands and London. The entire plan became a trifle skewed during his voyage. Along its way, the West India packet had interrupted its leisurely progress to call in at Bermuda, and there received the sad news. The Queen had fallen ill again and was not expected to recover. When he arrived in England on August 3, he stepped ashore into a country deep in mourning, and learned that Queen Anne had in fact died, two days earlier, and the assembly of the court in September, following the Coronation, was now being planned to welcome the new King – a German prince from Hanover, who was the late Queen’s nearest relative of acceptably Protestant religion. George was advised that he really ought to remain for the ceremonial accession and crowning of the new King. He knew enough to take that as an order, however polite the language. He'd emitted a monumental sigh on hearing this “advice,” but then reflected that it was a good thing that his successful business, and the inheritance from his father, had suitably padded up his strong box. It also occurred to him that this visit to England would be a suitable occasion to enquire into setting up one or more secure bank accounts. However, for the moment, he was forced to write letters, explaining all these details to the company’s acting head, Kiru, and the manager, Silas, back in Kingston. With any luck, the letters might reach Kingston before George himself could expect to return. Maybe. Privately, George was more than a little distressed to be separated for so long from Kiru, but the prospect was looking a little less bleak this morning than it had the day before. In London, George had stayed in a recommended hotel, the Golden Cross, while he acquired the necessary court clothes, as well as more sombre dark suits for the period of public mourning. Then he went on the assigned date to the Duke’s London town residence, Harptree House. There, he showed his letter of invitation, and after his chest and bags were taken in charge by a footman, he was met by an undersecretary who informed him in a snotty tone of voice that he must address the Duke, and the Duke’s private secretary (an Earl no less), as “my lord.” He was then escorted to the private secretary’s office. “Mr. George Treston, my lord,” the undersecretary pompously announced. “Thank you, Pensett,” the young man by the desk said loftily. The undersecretary bowed out, closing the door as he went. Pensett’s departure from the room was definitely an example of “withdrawing” – far too stately to be called simply “leaving.” “Good morning, Mr…. ah… Treston.” “My Lord.” George offered his most stylish bow. “Oh, for God’s sake, let’s drop all that tedious court protocol now.” George’s head jerked up in comical surprise, and the young man facing him laughed heartily. “My name’s Matthew, pleased to meet you.” George studied the handsome face, the trim figure, the snug breeches, and then noticed that Matthew was studying him as well, and in the same way. He didn’t mind a bit. “You probably weren’t expecting a titled Earl to talk to a lowly commoner this way. I was just granted the title last month and I’m still not used to it. You know, having people bowing and scraping to me. Well, let’s get down to business.” Matthew indicated a chair for George, and then perched on the edge of the desk in front of George while describing the schedule for the remainder of the day. Matthew thrust aside the tails of his lavish brocaded coat, allowing the now-noticeable bulge in his breeches to press forward. “You’re to see the Duke at half past four, after he takes tea with the Duchess. Refreshments will be served in the reception room at 6:00, and the procession will enter the dining room at half past seven. You will be partnered with Lady Lydia Galbraith, the lady in waiting to the Duchess.” As Matthew said this, he was discreetly (or not so discreetly) adjusting the lump in his breeches. “You’re expected to make conversation with her, and with the gentlemen on either side of her and the ladies on either side of you.” His droll tone as he rolled his eyes conveyed the tedium of conversing with ladies as opposed to engaging in much more interesting activities with the men. “Once the Duchess and the ladies retire from the dinner table at the end of the meal, and port and cigars are handed around, the formal part of the evening is ended.” George ventured a guess. “And the informal part can begin then, yes?” Matthew grinned and winked in agreement. His interview with the Duke consisted of a mixture of tediously detailed instructions in court protocol along with a whole series of intriguing looks and gestures. George had no trouble deducing that the Duke of Bridgwater found him just as interesting as his secretary had done, and for the same reason. George could then connect the dots and understand just how such a plainly man-loving young man as Matthew had used the Duke as a means of working his way into the heart of the aristocratic inner circle. Several hours later, the port and cigars duly distributed, George had risen from the dinner table and taken his leave, cued by a discreet smile and tilt of the head from Matthew. He had exited the dining room through the same door by which he had seen other men coming and going, guessing it would lead to the privies. As he walked that way, a panel in the wall suddenly opened beside him. A hand reached out, seized his arm, and dragged him quickly in, and the panel silently swung shut before he could even utter. “What the devil…?” A lantern swung up, illuminating the grinning face of Matthew. “I thought,” Matthew drawled out in an amused tone, “that this was what you wanted.” With that, he dropped his hand and caressed the bulge in George’s breeches, feeling it hardening under his hand. “Oh, good, a nice big one.” George moaned quietly as Matthew worked on him. He tried to reach for Matthew to return the favour, but Matthew waved him off. “Not yet. Come this way.” As they walked through the twisting passageway and up two flights of stairs, Matthew was quietly explaining to him. “You can’t run a house like this without these hidden passages inside the walls. They let you get from place to place without everyone seeing you.” “Aren’t you worried about running into some of the servants in here?” “Not now. The private maids and valets are all waiting in the rooms of their respective gentlemen and ladies, while everyone else is downstairs, attending on the party. I’d be more worried about running into the Duke or the Duchess and having to ‘not notice’ whoever they had with them.” With that, he chuckled as he thrust open a door. “Here we are.” They entered a sitting room, where a sleepy-eyed valet snapped to attention. “It’s all right, I shall attend to myself tonight, Davies. You may go to bed.” “Very well, my lord.” The valet bowed out, with a knowing smile on his face. They walked through into a bedroom. Not palatial, but a decent size. Candles were burning on the lampstand on the floor, the curtains were drawn, and the handle of a warming pan could be seen sticking out from under the covers. Matthew put down the lantern he was carrying and at once began to undo his clothes. Hangers awaited in the open clothes press. He began to hang his breeches and coat, then turned to George and said, “Well, what are you waiting for?” “Just enjoying the show.” As George said that, Matthew was pulling up his silken shirt, revealing a nicely-toned body. His drawers dropped next, giving George a prize view of his rigid cock, more than ready for action, and his smooth rounded buttocks. With that, George shifted into high gear, as rapidly dispensing with his clothes and hanging them neatly aside, then stripping off the under layers. While he finished, Matthew was removing the warming pan and turning down the coverlet. “I was right. A good, big one. Bring that thing over here and let’s get in together.” As George scrambled into the bed, Matthew extinguished the candles, one by one, and then dropped into bed next to him, pulling the covers up as he did so. George pushed up against Matthew’s body, feeling their hard cocks dueling in between them like swordsmen. He reached down to grasp Matthew’s shapely erection and found that the head was already wet with juice. “My, my, aren’t you all fired up and ready to explode.” Matthew chuckled. “Not exactly. I just get wet right away and keep on leaking for quite a while.” With that, he pushed his mouth onto George’s lips, prying them open with his tongue. At the same time, his own hand wrapped itself around George’s pole and began to squeeze and stroke it. In no time, two sizable erections were both ready and more than ready. But George wasn’t quite certain of what to do next. It wasn’t that he lacked experience – far from it. But this was another matter altogether. What was the correct protocol when you were bedding down with a member of the titled aristocracy? Normally, it would be a case of bow, scrape, and do whatever was asked. The problem was that the Earl of Butcombe was acting like he felt it was much more blessed to receive than to give, as he turned over and rubbed his firm round ass against George’s rampant (and now leaking) tool. George finally shrugged and let instinct dictate his actions, reflecting that, if he was wrong, he could always go back to Jamaica empty-handed – and wouldn’t mind doing so as long as he succeeded in piercing and filling this beautiful aristocratic ass at least once. With that thought, he dug his fingers into Matthew’s crack and found, to his delight, that the man was not only clean but nicely moistened with some scented lotion. He worked the tip of his rampant cock into place and began to push. It was plain at once that he had made the right choice. The Earl was certainly no shrinking violet. His hole opened right up with no delay, allowing George to slide inside him and keep right on sliding to the bottom of the well. There he lay, stretched out along the back of a titled Earl, no less, with his rampant cock buried deeply inside the Earl’s tight hole. But then he felt that hole chewing in a demanding sort of way on his cock and knew that it was time for him to stand and deliver, so to speak. George began sliding his erect tool out of the warm hole which caressed it, and then back in. Matthew, Earl of Butcombe, moaned in ecstasy as George Treston drove deep into his body, over and over. But then George cried aloud and, with a violent contraction of his loins, spewed a massive load of sperm inside the Earl’s titled butthole. The three months away from Kiru and the three weeks without the ministrations of Jeremiah, the talented cabin boy on the West India packet, had done their dirty work. Matthew cried, “Oh, no!” His tone was disappointed. But George hastened to reassure him by resuming the pace of his fucking and slowly speeding it up. Before long, his hips were slapping loudly against Matthew’s firm round ass on every stroke. Now that he’d spurted once, George was in a fair way to keep going for quite a while before his next explosion. And Matthew was loving every minute of it. His loud moans and the twisting motions of his body made it plain that he was a natural-born bottom, and indeed that he had an uncommonly sensitive ass. After a few minutes of this treatment, his hole seized right up on George’s rampant cock as he convulsed in his first orgasm. George kept right on fucking, and discovered to his delight that Matthew, like his own talented apprentice Blaine, was one of those rare men who could keep right on having orgasms in a chain, one after another, on and on until he was practically screaming for relief. And because his hole kept right on grabbing at George, on and on, it didn’t take too much longer for George to bestow a second load into that talented ass. George’s legs were getting a bit sore. He decided to force a change of position, hoping that the Earl wouldn’t be too upset at him for acting in such an inappropriate and forward manner. He pulled out, climbed up on the bed, and lay down beside Matthew, then pulled Matthew up onto his side so that George’s cock was in position to slide into him from behind. Thus positioned, George resumed his energetic fucking of the Earl, ramming deep and hard inside and pulling all the way out, again and again. Matthew squealed each time he slammed his cock deep down into that hole, and then exhaled loudly as he pulled out. It was more than he could stand, and his chain of orgasms finally died away, but only after he’d made a thoroughgoing mess of the bedcovers. George speeded up, sensing that the evening was about to come to an end, and in less than a minute his, too, managed to reach a third climax. He pulled out at last, rolling onto his back with a gasp of exhaustion. It had been the biggest workout he’d given himself in quite a while. Beside him, Matthew’s slow, gentle, quiet breathing settled down to a steady rhythm as sleep claimed him. George let himself go and fell asleep right after. During the night, he woke up to use the chamber pot, then pulled the eiderdown over both of them and fell asleep again. Now he stood by the window, enjoying the view of the gardens in the morning sunlight alternately with the view of the enticing body lying on the bed. Then the door opened, and Davies, the valet, entered with two cups of tea on a tray. He smiled at the sight of George’s naked body by the window and put the tea down on the table – then proceeded to rouse his master. Once Matthew had recovered consciousness, Davies handed him a note. He read it once, then again, and then dismissed Davies and sprang out of bed. “Good morning, my lord,” George said, chuckling. Matthew laughed for a moment, then turned serious. “I need to move fast. The Duke wants to see me in an hour. I’m sorry, but I will have to ask you to wait until I’ve prepared and gone.” “I have all day, as far as I know.” Matthew picked up and rang the hand bell. Davies entered again. “Davies, bring hot water and lay out my fresh clothes. Then, go to the kitchen and make up a breakfast tray for Mr. Treston. After he’s eaten, you can help him to wash and dress, and then show him the way to his room through the passages.” “Yes, my lord.” After Matthew had washed, dressed, and gone, Davies came back again with a breakfast tray, and another note, this one for George. He opened it and read: Kindly present yourself in the Amber Drawing Room At Four O’Clock this afternoon To take Tea with the Duke and Duchess of Bridgwater. After he’d enjoyed his breakfast, and been shown to his room, he pondered what he would do to occupy himself between ten o’clock and tea time. As he was mulling that question over, there came a knock at the door – the main door, the entrance from the main hall. He got up and opened the door, revealing a strange young man in servant uniform. “Yes?” “My name is Herne, sir. I am assigned to take care of you and attend to your needs during your stay here at Harptree House. To begin with, I have been told to show you the way to your own room.” “Thank you, Herne. Let’s go there first.” It was a brief walk along the hall and around a corner until they came to a pleasant room which faced out on the courtyard in the middle of the house. George’s bag and sea chest were already there, placed next to the clothes press and the chest of drawers. “I can tend to unpacking your clothes at the first opportunity when you are occupied elsewhere,” Herne said in a discreet voice. “If you don’t mind, Herne, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” “Of course, sir.” “First of all, since I’m invited to tea this afternoon, which way do I go to find the Amber Drawing Room?” “It’s downstairs, sir. I will show you.” “Thank you. And second, since it’s going to be a while until tea, where can I go to get a light meal between now and tea time?” Herne smiled. “If you wish to go downstairs, there is a buffet laid out in the private dining room between twelve o’clock and half past one. Or, it you prefer, I will be at your service to bring what you wish to your room.” “I should prefer to go down, I think. And finally: where do I go to head outside for a walk in the gardens?” “I will show you that as well, sir. If you need nothing more here…?” “Not at this time, thank you.” “Then we may as well go down now, and I will show you what you wish to know.” Nothing there but respectful attention, George thought. No such subtle signals as he’d gotten from Matthew. Nor was there any sign of the slightly insolent smirk he’d observed on Davies’ face. While Herne might not be on the “available” list, it was plain to George already that, no matter who did what, the servants would immediately know all about it. He followed Herne along the hall, and around the corner to the sweeping main staircase, fitted like a frame around a cascading crystal chandelier. They descended to the main floor, and Herne began pointing things out to him. “The Card Room, sir. The Garden Room. This is the Amber Drawing Room.” He proceeded a few steps down the hall and then indicated an open double door on the other side. “The Private Dining Room. As you can see, sir, the tables are already laid out for the luncheon buffet.” At this point, he doubled back and walked past the main stairs in the opposite direction, then pointed out a short hallway where several steps led down to a double French door. “The exit to the gardens, sir.” “Thank you, Herne. I think that covers all I need to know for now. No, wait, one last thing. How do I call you when I need you?” “In your own room, sir, simply ring the bell. Here in the public rooms, you can ask the butler or one of the footmen to locate me.” “Thank you, Herne. That is all for now.” George studied Herne as he walked away. The man carried himself very well, and his uniform fitted him very neatly, allowing George a good guess at what lay underneath. It was a pity that he hadn’t given away any clues. Ah, well, time enough for that. At four o’clock he was introduced into the Amber Drawing Room by a footman. A little to his surprise, there were no other guests than himself. Conversation was stilted at first but soon warmed up. The Duke’s normal irascible tone was considerably sweetened by his wife’s presence, while her low but melodious voice was pleasant to the ear. They asked him many questions about life in Jamaica, and he in turn asked about London, and about the ducal manor in Bridgwater, three days’ journey to the west. But George couldn’t rid himself of the impression that, throughout this congenial chat, both the Duke and the Duchess were trying to undress him with their eyes. Later that night, after another and only slightly less formal and boring dinner, George was relaxing in his room. Herne was giving him a foot rub after prying his too-tight formal shoes loose from his feet. Both of them pricked up their ears at the sound of a quiet knock, or was it a scratch? It came from the door to the inner passageways. Herne went over and opened the door, disclosing a young woman. “Excuse me, Mr. Treston, sir,” and here she dropped a most beautiful curtsey, “but her Grace the Duchess would like to have a word with you. In private, if you please, sir.” The last words were unmistakably directed at Herne. House shoes on in place of evening shoes, George followed her through the passages until they came out in the private sitting room of the Duchess’ suite. She curtseyed again, and then withdrew. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Treston.” “My lady.” George bowed to her. “Oh, do let us dispense with that tedious courtly protocol. I asked you to come here because I heard that you spent last night with Matthew.” George’s embarrassed grin gave her the answer she expected. “I heard from Anna that you gave him quite a wild ride.” “Yes, I did.” “And I wanted to take a turn in the saddle myself.” “Well, Ma’am, I don’t normally give lessons to ladies.” “I expected that to be your answer. But are you sure…” and here she reached up and removed the towering, curly wig, “that I am a lady?” George, bereft of words, gaped at the sight. Shorn of the masses of curls, the Duchess was unmistakably a man. Holding the wig in one hand, he walked over to the table and rang for the maid. Anna returned to the room, taking the wig, and escorting him into the next room, signalling to George to come with them. He followed, dazed -- but also intrigued. The evening became even more intriguing as the Duchess (as George supposed he should still be considered) calmly proceeded to undress Anna, the maid, who now also was revealed to be an attractive young man. As they disrobed, they took turns helping each other to wipe off their elaborate feminine make-up. George had also begun to undress now, and Anna now took a moment to show him a special cupboard for the guest clothing. Soon the three of them were standing, naked, checking each other out. They made an interesting mixed trio: one slender young lad, one man in his twenties, and one older man heading towards middle age, but still well worth anyone’s time. Their cocks were arranged in size in the same order as their ages, with the largest cock of the lot belonging to the Duchess. However, if George was expected to be scared or intimidated, his “hostess” was due for a disappointment. The man who could regularly take everything Kiru had to give him would never be intimidated by mere size, no matter how impressive. In no time, George was on his knees, sucking on that generous slab of meat while the young fellow lay on the floor in front of him, giving his own cock a treatment. Act Two saw the three of them up on the sizable bed, with the “Duchess” eating George’s ass while he in turn ate the ass of “Anna”. Once both of them were thoroughly loosened up, the show proceeded to the grand finale, as George entered the boy’s ass while the “Duchess” entered his. He’d never experienced such a sensation before, fucking and getting fucked all at the same time, and it aroused him mightily. In the end, after an hour of exhaustive activity, the guest of honour had cum three times inside the maid, no less, while the hostess had bred him twice. Not to be outdone, “Anna” had spewed two loads all over the bedcovers. Anna was also the first to recover. In commendably quick time, he had slipped back into his maid’s dress and wig, done a rapid make-up job, and was once again the demure servant to the life. Anna curtseyed to them both and withdrew, after asking the Duchess what time she would like coffee and asking George if he had any instructions for Herne. The Duchess remained, cuddling on the bed with a bemused but satisfied George. “Well, Mr. Treston, I imagine you have a few questions you would like answered. And please don’t fuss me with any protocol. It’s so out of place at this hour and in this state of undress.” They both laughed before George came out with the foremost question in his mind. “Are all the ‘women’ in this house men in women’s clothes and wigs?” “Not all, but many. And some of the servants who appear to be men are actually women. We planned it that way when we decided to get married.” George shook his head, dazed, as she went on. “I was an actor when Robert met me. There were a few of us who dressed as women for parody shows which we did in private homes. He was a guest at one of these parties, and he guessed almost at once that I was actually a man. After we’d spent some time together, we made a match of it, and we brought along a number of my theatre friends as servants and members of the household. Matthew was one of them. “It takes a great deal of money to keep everyone happy, of course, but Robert has made some astute and profitable speculations in London real estate, while I had already had a successful career at clipping the bank accounts of wide-eyed, wealthy young men who couldn’t resist a big cannon. So all of the household staff are very well paid, certainly better than if they were employed in the Royal Household.” Their conversation continued along those lines for a while. In time, George got up, dressed, kissed the Duchess good night and wished him/her sweet dreams, which made both of them laugh again. Back in his room, he found Herne waiting, stolid and stone-faced as ever. Herne assisted him to prepare for bed, and then disappeared with a polite but meaningless “Good night.” And George lay awake for some time, pondering everything he had learned. The next evening he had to disappoint Matthew, who had been hoping for another night of fun and games. “I’m sorry, your Lordship, but I’m all worn out after the last two nights.” “Rumour has it that, when you’re at home, you’re good for every night.” George laughed at that, but his laugh soon turned sad and serious. Having hot sex on tap any day and every day was all very well, but there was no substitute for time spent with the man he loved. Matthew quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. We all heard from a business associate of the Duke about your legendary love affair, and I should have known that you’d be missing him. Come on, let’s just cuddle up and you can tell me about him.” They proceeded to do just that, and George was definitely relieved by having a chance to talk about some real part of his life, in this bizarre nest of pretences and disguises and false fronts. Matthew held him close and stroked him gently as he talked, and that simple gesture of caring went a long way too. In the end, they fell asleep together like that, with Matthew holding George close. Life continued on for the next month at Harptree House, even as the preparations for the coronation and the court assembly went forward. George fucked repeatedly, or got fucked by, the Duke, the Duchess, the Earl, Anna (whose real name was Leonard), Pensett (who became far less pompous and officious after George bred him), Davies, and others. When the time came for the Coronation, the Duke had numerous official engagements, most important of them being the Accession Council. He and the Duchess, and the Earl with them, had to attend a number of high-level parties (“mind-numbing boredom,” as the Duchess complained to George later at night after one of them). For the Coronation itself, they even wangled a seat for George at the very back of Westminster Abbey, no mean achievement when eighty percent of the Abbey’s capacity was taken up by people required to attend by reason of protocol. The big moment George was preparing for came a week and a half later, when the Court officially assembled. Herne had dressed him to perfection in his court clothes, ensuring that his curled formal wig was exactly adjusted on his head. Lady Lydia had taken him in hand at the palace, leading him through the echelons of under-under-secretaries and sub-sub-officials. So well had his hosts trained him that he felt not the slightest quiver of nerves as his name was announced by the usher. He advanced, making the three ceremonial bows, and then bent to kiss the ring on the King’s hand. He even managed to withdraw backwards and over to the side without tripping over his own feet. There were still a string of formal balls to be gotten through, but the Harptree dancing master had ensured that he knew all the steps and wouldn’t disgrace himself or his hosts. However, with the Coronation and the Court Assembly out of the way, the most nerve-wracking parts were done. All that remained to be done now was to wait for an appointment with the King’s personal advisor for the colonies, where he might receive the hoped-for letter of marque. Another two weeks elapsed after the Coronation and the Court Assembly had happened, and the first three formal balls had passed, before George got the notice he’d been awaiting. Three mornings afterward, he presented himself and his letter of sponsorship from the Duke at the offices of Sir Vincent Hilperton, the personal advisor. After a brief and apparently pointless conversation, Sir Vincent thanked him for coming in the sort of bored, official tones which too plainly added the unspoken words, “and don’t stumble on the way out.” However, as George retreated into the antechamber, he was intercepted by a secretary who handed him a large envelope which contained the long-awaited letter. The Duke had already admonished him that the less people knew about his mission the better, so he settled for quietly informing the Duke that he had received the thing which he sought. From the lack of response on the Duke’s face, George deduced (correctly as it happened) that his host had known the outcome for some time, if not since before George even arrived in London. But he took it philosophically, understanding better than many older men that the hoops must all be jumped through in the correct order. That being the case, it was time for George to prepare for the long voyage home. He purchased another trunk to hold all his London finery from a leading maker. He found a date and time for a westbound ship which would take him across the ocean to Antigua. From there, he could readily get a berth on a ship heading for Jamaica – perhaps even one of his own ships, such as Euphemia, which called at Antigua from time to time. He worked in reverse order through his multiple partners at Harptree House, spending time or even full nights with each of them in turn. Last on the list was Matthew, the Earl of Butcombe, and here yet again George was invited, or expected, to spend a whole night. He gave himself a night off before his final night with Matthew, knowing that Matthew would expect him to plant at least two good-sized loads inside his firm round ass, and perhaps even more. The truth was that, ever since the night when Matthew had invited George to confide in him, the two had become good friends as much as bed partners. As ever, George had no trouble at all in rising to the occasion, giving Matthew a rousing fuck at bedtime, and cumming inside him twice. Then, in the morning, he continued in a gentler vein, sliding his way into Matthew’s warm, wet, welcoming hole to awaken him, and then pumping him slowly and gently until the floodgates opened and he poured a third load inside the Earl. Afterwards, as they relaxed while still joined together, Matthew sighed. “Dammit, George, I am really going to miss you when you’re gone. Nobody, and I mean nobody in this house fucks nearly as energetically or imaginatively as you do.” “Nobody? Really?” George had certainly enjoyed the variety offered to him as a guest. “There’s only one man here who comes even close to you.” “Who is that?” “Herne.” “Herne???” The shock in George’s voice matched the comically wide eyes and mouth. Matthew couldn’t help laughing at him. “What, you didn’t know? Well, no, that’s obvious that you didn’t know. I’m surprised.” “Herne never gave any indication that he was interested at all.” Matthew chuckled. “Well, he is, but in a different way. If you’d made a move in that direction, you would have found yourself escorted to the cellars and fastened down somewhere while he teased you, tickled you, tormented you, and finally turned you over so he could give you the works. I love getting myself filled up, but even so I can only take the full Herne treatment a few times every year. It takes a while to recover, and for the marks to die away, so I have to do it when I have no business appointments to worry about for the next week or so.” George shook his head, bemused. His main thought was that he was glad he hadn’t made a move in that direction any time during the week of the Coronation. The next day, Herne packed all of George’s belongings neatly away, certainly far more neatly than George could have done. George spent the day making final rounds in public view, tipping the various servants and enjoying a final round of tea, dinner, and conversation with the Duke and the Duchess. They, too, had enjoyed his presence as a guest, and not just in bed. As the Duke put it, in his normally irascible voice, “You’re a breath of fresh air among all the stuffed shirts I have to put up with.” The next morning, a carriage came to the front door to convey George to the docks where he would board the packet for the Atlantic voyage. His trunks and bags had been sent ahead over night and were in place in the hold and in the cabin. The ship’s captain showed great courtesy in taking him around to see where all his possessions were stowed. He knew that George owned a fleet of ships in the Caribbean, and wanted to be memorable, in case he ever wanted a change of career from the tedium of long Atlantic voyages. It was a long voyage, and it was tedious, but George at least managed the lucky break of finding a ship two days after he landed in Antigua which would call at Kingston on the way to the Caymans and Belize. That last leg of the trip passed off quickly enough, and George found himself and his belongings being landed on the new pier. And there was his humble house – humble, yes, but it certainly looked homelike to him after so many months divided between strange ships and stranger palaces. He hired a young man to load his things onto his donkey cart and convey them to this house and gave the lad a generous tip on delivery. Then he could finally relax. He had the house to himself, but he had expected that, since Carmelita wasn’t in the harbour. The odds had been not very good in any case that Kiru would happen to have been at the home base. He settled into a chair in the sitting room, quietly pondering everything he had seen and heard, and all he had learned, during his adventures. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, there came a knock at the door. Not a polite knock, Not the quiet, gentle scratch on the door employed by the servants at Harptree House. This was a peremptory knock, a commanding knock, even an urgent knock. George sighed and pulled himself to his feet. He opened the door to Silas Braydon, accompanied by a younger man. George didn’t know him by name, but his face was vaguely familiar. It was Silas, though, who opened the conversation in hesitant tones as soon as they were inside. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, George. I knew you’d be resting after your long voyage, but I have very serious news to share.” “Well?” “And you must prepare yourself for a terrible shock.” “All right, Silas, come on, out with it.” Silas still hesitated for a moment, but he knew that his time was up. “I’m so sorry, George, but here it is: Kiru is dead.”

Chapter 4 Fresh Start George’s meeting with Braydon, the manager, was awkward and stilted. There were so many questions George wanted to ask, and he didn’t know where to begin. For his part, Braydon was being very circumspect, revealing little of substance in his conversation. He was struggling with trying to find the best way to tell this young man that he was now the sole owner of the Treston interests, the fleet of ships, the warehouses, and all the goodwill which the business had built up through multiple generations. In fact, though, and unknown to Braydon, George already knew. His father had made a will when George turned twenty-one, placing the entire business in George’s sole ownership in the event of his death, and he had given a copy of the will to George. George gave his thoughts to that subject for a minute. He was also aware that, in the will, his father had made generous provision from his own personal funds for George’s younger twin sisters. George hadn’t actually met his sisters for years. In fact, Richard Lajambe had adopted the girls when he decided to move back to England, a move which Edward had wholeheartedly endorsed. The girls would have much better marital prospects in England, and their appearance, more and more resembling their mother, would no longer serve as a perpetual rebuke to the unkindness with which Edward had treated his Esmeralda. Now, with the payout from the estate, there would be generous dowries for them both as well. Meanwhile, Braydon was still sitting in the captain’s cabin, and still hemming and hawing over the key point of the will. George decided to help him out. “Mr. Braydon, is there something you don’t want to tell me? Something, perhaps, to do with the future of the Treston business?” Braydon looked suitably startled, and then laughed. “Mr. Treston, you are just like your father – always a step ahead of me!” George chuckled too. But then he said, “He’s been training me for this ever since I was born. My father made certain that I would know exactly what was expected of me. I also know my father’s ideas of protocol. But I am not my father. I would prefer that we address each other on a first-name basis, since so much of the success of this company rests in your hands. So please, for the future, call me George.” “Silas, then.” And they shook hands on that. The remainder of the meeting went much more smoothly, now that the ice was broken. Before Braydon had even left the ship, George had already made his first two business decisions. The first was that he was going to remain as captain of Egeria. As he got a grip on the business, he needed to be able to check back in with Silas at headquarters as often as possible, and only Egeria with her relatively short circular routes could help him do that. His second decision was that Carmelita and Egeria would both remain in port for ten extra days. George had a signal to that effect sent to Carmelita. The house where he and Kiru had lived during the docking of their ships had been purchased outright by his father, and then left to him in the will. That gave them again a quiet refuge during those busy days in Kingston. The first night, Kiru spent several long hours holding an anguished George close in his arms as they lay in bed together. It wasn’t for sex. George badly needed to give vent to all the surging tides of emotion which he had been holding in all day, and just as badly he needed the comfort that he could only find in the arms of this one man. Kiru understood all of that, and he had already decided that whatever he could do to help George would be done freely and without holding back. They cuddled together, talking, listening, kissing, until sleep at last caught up with George as his tears abated. Silas spent the next week and a half preparing letters to go out to all the shippers, producers, exporters, and others in the trade world whose business had been held up by this family crisis. The letters explained that Mr. George Treston, son of the late Mr. Edward Treston, had now taken his late father’s place as the owner and operator of Treston Shipping, and apologized for the unavoidable delays in forwarding goods during this family crisis. George spent hours poring over documents, letters, financial information, getting a handle on the bigger picture of what could now fairly be called his company. He held many long discussions with Silas. He also had a meeting with a local solicitor, to draw up his own will. In it, he placed the entire ownership of the company into the hands of Kiru in the event that he should die. The solicitor hesitated, raising his eyebrows in a marked manner at this idea. Seeing that reaction, George offered to take his business elsewhere. The solicitor gave way, and the documents were duly drawn, signed, and witnessed by his clerk. Privately, though, the solicitor had his doubts that the will would stand if it were to be challenged in a court of law. Each night when George returned home after his long day immersed in business, Kiru was there to take his mind off the issues and restore some balance in his life. Kiru teased him. “I went through all that work trying to be a great sailor and leader of my crew – just to end up as the stay-at-home wifey of the new owner, who’s almost young enough to be my son!” They both laughed, but then Kiru drew George into his embrace and the laughter dissolved into sighs and moans of satisfaction. George was gradually realizing a great truth that many people never discover – that home isn’t so much a place as it is a state of mind, and when you are in a place that gives you that kind of calm, peace, breathing room, and comfort, you are home. For George, that all meant “Kiru.” It was only when they were together that he realized just how much he needed this partnership with this man to anchor his life. When he tried to explain it all to Kiru, he found that the right words weren’t there for him, but Kiru got the message all the same. “I understand you, George – and I feel just the same way. Now stop talking and give me your best shot again.” George promptly rolled Kiru onto his back, lifting his massive thighs into the air. He dived into his man’s deep ass crack, spreading the cheeks apart and licking over the musty, man-smelling hole which waited there for his attention. Kiru emitted deep sighs of satisfaction. It always felt so amazing to him whenever George was the one eating him, and he understood why. As for George, he never tired of working with lips and tongue, not just on Kiru’s ass or cock, but on any and every part of his body. On this night, he wanted to give Kiru the most incredible, thorough tongue bath possible, and he wanted it to last for as long as he could keep it going. He was more than ready to fuck this spectacular ass, but he wanted to give himself as much time as possible to anticipate it, to build up an equally spectacular load of his seed to fill Kiru’s hole. And that took time, but for George it was time well spent. After he had massaged and licked and kissed every inch of Kiru’s body, Kiru finally got tired of waiting. “S’wounds, George, aren’t you ever going to push it inside me?” George smiled. “Yes – but only when you’re good and ready.” Kiru groaned in disappointment, and George chose that exact moment to plant his cock against the ass lips and force his way inside. The groan shifted tone into a loud, long-drawn “Aaaaahhhhh” as the shaft penetrated, spread, opened, and finally pushed completely inside. Kiru dropped his legs onto George’s shoulders and reached up, grasping George with his hands and pulling him down so they could caress and kiss each other as George thrust and pounded into him. George certainly did pound him that night. He hammered his way inside Kiru like a pile driver. Kiru was tough, and immured to pain, but even he was finding this treatment a bit hard to take. He felt certain that George was working out some emotional burden which was expressing itself in violent physical activity, so he hung on and endured as George battered at his ass. Finally, George’s powerhouse strokes got more irregular, his breathing grew harsh, and Kiru knew that the end was coming. He squeezed down hard with his muscles, grasping George’s dick in an ecstatic grip as George prepared to erupt into him. And then it came. George slammed in a series of half a dozen of the most violent strokes yet, and then cried aloud as his cock contracted and spewed a torrent of juice inside his man. Kiru hung on as George kept jamming it repeatedly into him, hung on as he felt the contractions and knew that he was getting a load like none he had ever received before. Even the slave guard who had raped his teenaged ass the night he was taken captive hadn’t filled him up with so much sperm. At last George quieted down, slowed to a halt, and slipped out of Kiru’s ass. A slow tidal wave of his seed oozed out of the ravaged hole and ran slowly down onto the bed sheets. Kiru emitted a small moan of pain – George had ripped him. After a few more moments of hugging and stroking, Kiru excused himself and got up out of the bed. Opening the drawer in the chest by the wall, he drew out a small bundle of cloth. Unwinding it, he drew out a couple of leaves from a plant which glistened with some thick liquid. Reaching back, he pushed the leaves up into his hole, holding them there as the hole closed up and drew them in. “What was that?” George’s question was genuinely curious. “Medicine. I learned it from an older slave when I was in the market in San Juan. It heals the body when it’s been torn, ripped, or cut.” George looked surprised for a moment – and then realization. “Dear God in Heaven, Kiru, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Kiru walked back and lay down with him again. “Why didn’t you stop me?” “Did you want me to stop you?” “Well…” “George, I didn’t stop you because I knew that you needed to get all the hurt and anger and fear out of your system. I let you keep going because you couldn’t do that without my help.” George shuddered in relief as Kiru’s arms came around him again. For a few horrible moments, he’d been afraid that Kiru would walk out on him. This fear, too, Kiru could detect. “I could never leave you, George. I love you, and you love me, and we’re in this together for life.” Much later, as George finally fell asleep, Kiru remained awake, watching this love of his life breathing gently and evenly, relaxed, at peace, for the first time in weeks. His thoughts clearly emerged in his own mind. When I’m with you, George, I am at peace too. All too soon, their two weeks of quiet time had come to an end. This time, the two captains walked side by side from the house to the landing where they hired a boat to take them out to their ships for their return to work. Inevitably, there had been departures from the crews of each ship. Every time they anchored in Kingston for any length of time, there would be a couple of sailors who would take their pay packet and head ashore, never to be seen again. Roger and Eli, Kiru’s first mate, had filled the vacancies by promotions, hiring new apprentices in each ship to complete the crews. As the two ships sailed in close formation down the channel and passed beyond South Key into the open ocean, George had one of his crewmen on board Egeria hoist a signal. Egeria to Carmelita: goodbye and good luck. The return signal came quickly enough, but George had to take an extra moment deciphering it as the key word wasn’t a code word but was spelled out, letter by letter. At last he got it. Carmelita to Egeria: Thank you, boss. Same to you. On the second full day out from Kingston, George was walking on the deck of Egeria in the sunshine, thinking thoughts of Kiru. He was remembering the scene early the previous morning when Kiru had mercilessly pounded his hole into gaping submission before they’d returned to their ships, pondering the question of how that scene might have appeared to an observer. Of course, that train of thought was causing a bit of swelling. As he walked and thought these thoughts, his eyes were drawn to the sight of Blaine, the newest apprentice, busily scrubbing down the decks around the main hatchway. Blaine was tall, and the scrubbing handle was not really long enough, forcing him to lean forward and bend down as he applied the working end to the planking. Of course, what caught George’s eye was the lush curve of the young man’s butt, pushing out the material of his breeches in an enticing way. George found he was catching his breath at the sight. Blaine was already handsome enough in front, his skin the colour of milky coffee thanks to his mixed parentage, but this rear view was a real thing of beauty. Suddenly, George realized that the young apprentice had caught him staring and was flexing his buttocks, squeezing and releasing the muscles. It was obvious that he was asking for his captain’s attention. One more memory of Kiru distracted George’s attention for a moment, and then he shifted his eyes back to Blaine. It would certainly be weeks and could be months before he saw Kiru again, but he had no intention of settling for the infrequent attentions of Roger during that time. Roger was good, no doubt about that, but would only give to another man. George liked giving too, and as he watched Blaine blatantly teasing him, he felt sure that he would like to give his newest apprentice a full-on welcome aboard his ship. The chance came the same night, when George timed his departure from the deck to coincide with the moment when Blaine’s on-duty time ended, and he was heading below. It was a simple matter to arrive at the main hatchway at the same time, forcing Blaine to give way. At the bottom of the ladder, George waited for Blaine and then ordered him to follow. In moments, they were entering the captain’s cabin. Blaine stood respectfully to attention. George closed the gap between them, running his hands over the outline of Blaine’s body, and then working at undoing the buttons which would release the young apprentice’s breeches. At this point, Blaine grew hesitant. “What’s wrong?” George asked. “Uh, sir, the first mate had told me to report to the aft cargo hold.” George grinned. “Not to worry. That can easily be mended.” He had Blaine stand behind the door while he opened it and bellowed, “Pass the word for the first mate.” It was a matter of a minute or so before a knock came. George opened the door, admitting Roger, and then closed it. “I trust you will forgive me for interrupting your quiet time,” George drawled out in an amused tone. Roger took one quick look at the now-undressed Blaine and decided that he could tolerate the interruption. He and George proceeded to remove their clothes as quickly as possible, and then turned their full attention to the handsome apprentice. Roger moved in first, grasping Blaine’s shoulders and pressing downwards. Blaine knew at once what this man wanted, and he dropped to his knees, opening his mouth to begin licking and kissing and sucking at Roger’s cock. George moved in beside Roger and stuck his cock forward alongside Roger’s. Blaine now had two pieces of tasty, prime man meat to absorb his attention. He worked back and forth between them, swallowing one and sucking on it for a minute, and then pulling off to give his attention to the other. After a few minutes of this, both cocks were glistening with his saliva, so he turned his attention to the balls underneath them, washing those down and popping them into his mouth one by one to warm them up. By now, both Roger and George were moaning from Blaine’s exertions, and their dicks were leaking a steady stream of clear fluid. Blaine returned to the dick heads to lick up the tasty juice, swishing it around in his mouth and swallowing it. He loved the taste. Roger was ready to go farther. When Blaine was working on George again, Roger reached down and planted his hands under Blaine’s armpits from behind, drawing the young man to his feet. As he pulled Blaine up, he stepped forward so his erect cock would slip neatly right into Blaine’s crack. Roger then proceeded to slide his meat up and down between Blaine’s firm round buns, letting the fleshy mounds stroke him. George now went to his knees and sucked on Blaine’s cock, which was also leaking plenty of juice. George too loved that flavour. Roger dropped down in his turn and buried his face into Blaine’s shapely butt, licking and slurping at the crack and the hole while Blaine went off into a fury of moaning, making wordless noises of enjoyment. The two men between them were driving their young apprentice into a whirling world of ecstasy, entirely losing his conscious control and becoming solely a vehicle for unlimited sexual arousal and pleasure. When they’d gotten him all the way into this detached and uncontrolled state, Roger stood up and placed his raging tool against Blaine’s hole, and then pushed forward. The hole, fully lubricated by Roger’s mouth and tongue, opened at once and Roger’s dick sank inside his tunnel. As he slid in, he felt the muscles around the opening go into convulsions. At the same moment, George had to pull off in surprise as the young fellow’s cock exploded into his mouth and down his throat with absolutely no warning. He grasped Blaine’s shaft as his tongue worked to lick up the hot cream, but it was a losing battle. Blaine just kept pumping more and more out. As soon as the stream slowed down, Roger began pumping in and out of his ass, and in mere seconds his cock exploded again. Blaine was so far caught up in his disjointed state that he simply couldn’t stop as he kept right on blasting off in one orgasm after another. All that gripping around his shaft soon brought Roger up to the point of no return. He slammed hard and deep into Blaine’s ass five or six times and exploded inside the convulsing tunnel. Blaine kept wailing as his cock kept jumping up and down and shooting while he felt Roger cumming inside him. Only when Roger pulled out did Blaine’s endless orgasm finally slow to a halt. The young fellow was gasping for air after that nonstop chain of cum explosions. Roger came over and whispered something to George, who was still wiping the lad’s cream off his face and licking it up from his hand. Then they switched places, with Roger taking station in front of Blaine’s quivering cock while George got behind him and entered him, sliding easily inside in the nicely loosened hole lubricated with Roger’s spit and sperm. Blaine groaned again and immediately started flexing his muscles, wanting to feel George filling him up even more. George let out a loud “ohhh” as he felt that hole stroking and sucking on his cock, demanding his sperm. He began to pump the younger guy’s ass hard and fast, pounding deep inside him. George was in full rut now. He needed this, needed to mark and breed this boy just as Roger had done a few minutes earlier. For just a moment he had a vision of the two of them fucking and filling this sweet ass over and over throughout the voyage. But then, instinct took over and it was too late to think, too late to stop, too late to do anything before he blew out all his tension in this hot young man’s butt. He pumped harder, harder still, and then his cock exploded as he forced it all the way inside, pulsing out his seed into Blaine’s cute young body. Blaine moaned aloud as he felt George’s sperm mingling with Roger’s inside him. At last, George softened and pulled out. Blaine had just finished cleaning all the semen and butt slime off Roger’s dick, and now turned around, obediently cleaning off George’s tool as well. At last he released it, his duty complete, and stood up. Both men kissed him, and then kissed each other. And George summed it all up. “This is going to be one spectacular voyage.” Roger nodded agreement. Blaine, more forthright, grinned as he said, “I certainly hope so, sir.” And they all laughed. By the time George had made three more voyages in Egeria, with Roger as first mate and both Roger and Blaine as regular company, he had acquired a thorough grasp of all aspects of the business which he now found himself leading. He had also reached one truly momentous decision, all on his own. It was a reflection of the most basic differences between George and his late father. It was time indeed for George to put his own stamp on the family business, as all his predecessors had done in their turns. It was his great-grandfather, Josiah Treston, who had made the decision to shift the business from Bristol in England to the New World. Grandfather Ebenezer in turn had shifted the base of operations from Charles Town to Port Royal, changing the company forever into a regional trading business which maintained contacts with the old country. His father, Edward, had expanded the business by adding newer and bigger ships. Now it was George’s turn. At last came the time when George was ready to explain his grand idea to Silas Braydon. The timing was dictated by the next occasion when both Carmelita and Egeria were in port at the same time. For this meeting he broke another long tradition by bringing Kiru along with him. As he explained to the startled Silas, “As we get more and more spread out over longer distances, it’s important that there is at least one person other than the two of us who is privy to the inner workings of the business. I am naming Kiru as my deputy in the running of this company, with full power to exercise my authority whenever I am absent, and subject to my review upon my return. I am trusting him to use this authority sparingly, and only as necessary. His innate good judgement is my guarantee.” Silas looked decidedly uneasy at this idea, but he agreed all the same. George now proceeded to unwrap the major blockbuster which he had chosen to drop at this meeting. “I’ve also decided to withdraw Ernestine V from the West African trade. At the moment it is profitable, but there are more and more ships pursuing that business every year and the profits are not what they were. Also, there is a slowly rising tide of opinion against slavery on both sides of the ocean, and it’s only a question of time before the entire slave trade gets outlawed or stamped out. I would rather stay ahead of my competitors rather than running from behind to catch up with everyone else.” Kiru felt a need to put his oar in, and his choice of words as he did so marked a momentous shift in itself. “Sir, what then do you plan to do with Ernestine V?” George smiled. He had seen the flash of excitement and gratitude playing across Kiru’s handsome face as he made his big announcement. “For the moment, I plan to reassign Ernestine V to the Charles Town/Virginia/Boston triangle – we can certainly use both her speed and her capacity to good effect in that region. As well, her armament will give better protection against the pirates who are getting restive again in the Bahamas and up the coast. “In the longer term, I would like to build a sister ship, similar in size, capacity, speed, and armament, and upgrade our service to England. The packet ships which are operating there have their hands full as it is, with their contracts to carry the mail and with passengers. We can carry our own freight to a much bigger extent than we do now, without diminishing their business in any way. I have no interest in competing for mail or passengers. I plan to focus instead on carrying sugar which is being produced more and more here for export to England. That’s a profitable cargo, and the profits will more than repay us for the extra expense of building and crewing one or more fast ships. For all of that, I will have to go to London and meet with the owners of the two main packet fleets, as well as establishing a line of investors.” Silas spoke up. “These are interesting plans for the future, George. For the moment, though, Ernestine V will need a thorough refit before she can be reassigned.” “Of course. We’ll keep Captain Blackstone on to supervise the refit. And we’ll give him the full pay he would normally receive while at sea. He’s too good a man to lose.” Again, Silas looked a trifle startled, but George knew his mind, and certainly wanted to be proactive in retaining all the good men he had inherited along with the business.” Kiru spoke up again. “You’re very wise to do that, sir. Men as competent and as effective as Blackstone don’t grow on trees.” Both Kiru and Silas had found that they were getting their eyes opened. George had grown a great deal these last months, and not just in years. His insight into the business in all its aspects impressed both of them. Silas in particular noted how George was much more forward-thinking and gave much more heed to long-term planning than his father had ever done. That night, George couldn’t help commenting about how Kiru had formally addressed him as “sir”. Kiru replied, “George, my love, you have made yourself thoroughly the head of this company, put your hands on the rudder, and trimmed the sails to a new course which owes nothing to any of the work your father and grandfather did. As a captain in the line, it’s appropriate for me to address the owner and operator of the Treston company as ‘sir’. There’s no question – you are in charge and complete master of the situation. Silas knows that, and I know that.” George smiled. “I did tell Silas that I wanted him to address me on a first-name basis. You should too. You are a fine captain, but you are also my second-in command and designated replacement in my absence.” “Is that all?” Kiru’s face wore what could only be called a smirk. George laughed, drew him closer, and began kissing him again, reaching down to fondle Kiru’s enormous cock as he did so. Over the next couple of years, the pattern rolled smoothly forward. In due time, George realized that the conditions were ripe for him to move his grand plan ahead. He began by offering the role of captain of Egeria to Roger, who was now more than ready for the responsibility. Roger had thanked George with one last impressive fucking, shooting two loads of his juice into the owner’s deep hole. Roger was overjoyed at the prospect of finally being able to ask for Alice’s hand in marriage, having now met the demands of her father. George spent the last couple of months on shore, organizing everything to run smoothly in his absence which would last for six months at least. Kiru came back from an extended voyage about two weeks before George was going to leave on the packet service to London, and George promptly ordered that Carmelita remain in harbour for that time. Kiru didn’t object. The final night came all too quickly. As they lay together in bed, Kiru kept his cock deep inside George while he lay on top of his man after having filled him with two big loads of his sperm. George wrapped his legs and arms around Kiru as they kissed nonstop. It wasn’t the first time they’d ever fallen asleep, still linked together, but this time they slept that way all the night through. George awoke in the morning to feel Kiru’s tool, hard and hot, still nestled snugly inside him. But then it was time for him to go. The packet was sailing at noon, and there was no telling how long he might wait for another ship if he missed this one. One last lingering embrace and kiss at the door, and then George was walking down the street, setting his face and his steps towards a new adventure.

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.