“Hello there. Welcome to the Grove Manor Inn. I’m . . . here let me help you with those. Let me take at least one of them. I’m Albert, the lazier part of Mark and Albert.”

He spoke “Albert” without the closing “T,” and, from both his mixed British and Caribbean islander accent and his strikingly good “best of several races” looks, it wasn’t hard to conclude that he was Jamaican. He also was a hunk and a half, beautifully built, at least six foot two tall, broad in the chest, and slim in waist and hips.

Andy had known a gay couple operated the B&B on Grove Street, in Richmond, Virginia’s, Fan District--a mostly residential area of large, late nineteenth and early twentieth century row house that took its name because the streets radiated west away from the government center in the form of a fan. The Web site had made quite clear the two male hosts were a couple, if in a subtle way, so that potential guests would know before deciding to book. Andy didn’t know, however, that at least one of the couple was a god-like, light-chocolate hunk.

That didn’t help Andy one bit. He wouldn’t have booked into the B&B, knowing it was run by a gay couple. He was having a hard enough time not hyperventilating what he was doing in Richmond at all--what was expected of him here. Sandi had made the reservations.

And Sandi was still working her way out of the front seat of their Volvo SUV. She wasn’t clumsy; she was six months pregnant and showing. And she was feeling every added inch of girth and had been complaining of the discomfort all the way from the coast.

“And, by process of elimination, you must be the Clemons,” Albert said as he reached out for one of the bags Andy was carrying at the back gate into the swimming pool area of the B&B. Andy had entered the alley behind the Grove Street houses, as directed, and parked between two cars on a four-car parking pad. “The Arnolds are already here and settled in. There are just the four of you for the two nights you’ll be with us. The Arnolds are staying longer than you at both ends.”

“Hello,” Andy finally said, trying not to look at Albert like he could eat the man up, “Yes, we’re the Clemons. This is Sandra. I’m Andy.”

Sandra Clemons had finally caught up with them, although she was moving almost in a waddle. She was still stretching her spine with a fist in the small of her back and looking slightly harried from the drive from the coast. Beyond that, she was looking radiant, a small blonde who looked every bit the sportswear model she’d been before she’d had her first child. She smiled at Albert and shook his free hand. Andy was still juggling a suitcase, a computer bag, and the bolster pillow stuffed in a bag. Sandra couldn’t get comfortable without a body pillow to lean full length against when she finally got around to sleep. Despite showing six months, she still needed attention from Andy most nights before going to sleep.

The B&B, an imposing three-story structure--with the bottom two stories being deeper toward the back of the lot--was set on a double city lot. The house was on a corner, fronting on Grove, and with its western side running along North Meadow. An old carriage house was at the back corner, long side to the alley and short side to North Meadow. The upstairs had been converted into a small apartment, Andy knew, as, for a steep price, it was available for rent as one of the B&B suites. He knew there were three two-room suites in the main house, one on the second floor against the wall facing North Meadow, and two on the third floor. He and Sandra had one of the third-floor suites. The eastern half of the double lot was taken up with a brick patio with a fair-sized kidney-shaped swimming pool in the middle.

In swim suits and rising from pool beds beside the pool as Andy, first, and then Sandra and Albert entered the yard, were what must be the other couple staying at the B&B. He was older, maybe in his fifties, of imposing stature--barrel chested, well-muscled for his age, bald and bull necked, but with bushy eyebrows and a chest heavily matted with curly salt and pepper hair. His stomach was still flat and his legs were those of a rugby player. A man, standing ramrod straight, of military bearing and Marine physique.

The woman, in contrast, was a raven-haired, trim, elegant society dame type either not older than her late thirties or having an expert plastic surgeon on retainer. She was tanned to a golden sheen and proudly and unapologetically wearing a black string bikini. Despite her age, no apologies or self-consciousness were required. Still, she was so deeply bronzed that the tanning must be perpetual and she’d probably be looking like old leather in ten years. In the meantime, though, she was gorgeous.

“Admiral and Mrs. Arnold--Hal and Margaret,” Albert said, gesturing with his free hand toward the couple at the pool. “These are the Clemons. Sandra and Andrew. I’ll just get the Clemons settled in their suite and either they’ll come down to the pool or they’ll see you for wine and cheese on the back porch at five.” Albert said the last with a slight tilt up to the inflection of a question as he turned and looked at Sandra and Andy.

“What do you think, Sandi?” Andy asked. “Do you feel up to . . . ?”

“I think a rest first,” she answered.

“Yes, of course. There will be plenty of time for fuller introductions at the wine and cheese hour,” Albert said hurriedly. “I’ve made dinner reservations for you at Can Can, as you requested, but those aren’t until seven.”

“Was it a tiring trip for you, my dear?” Margaret asked, making it obvious that she was taking note of Sandra’s condition. “Did you have to come from far?” She had a smooth, but low-pitched voice. Sultry almost. It went with the rest of the package.

“Just from Norfolk,” Andy answered for both of them. “Traffic wasn’t too bad on 64, though. Not much more than an hour and fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, a coincidence. We’re from Norfolk too,” Margaret said. “The naval base.”

The four of them--Sandra, Andy, Margaret, and Hal--muttered a few transitional pleasantries before Albert guided the young couple to a door at the rear of the main house that led onto a porch and then what was probably a reading room set beside a large kitchen, and then into the center stair hallway. Throughout the time, Hal had stood almost glowering at them. It wasn’t an unfriendly stare, but it seemed to be a quizzical one, and his attention seemed to be centered on Andy.

But he wasn’t the only one scrutinizing Andy. Albert was doing so, as well as he could, as he showed them around the four ornate public rooms on the first floor, describing how they essentially had remained the same since a railroad baron had built the house in 1910, before taking them two flights up to their suite. Andy could feel Albert’s speculative gazes focus on him, and it sent electricity through his body. Could he tell? And how could he tell, Andy wondered. And how could Andy just deflect that interest to a back burner?

As they’d passed the door into the kitchen, Albert introduced them to the other half of the management team, Mark, who quite obviously was the domesticated half of the partnership. He was puttering around in the kitchen, doing whatever B&B cooks had to do in the afternoon. In many respects, he was quite similar to Andy--slightly below average height; trim, but well-muscled; and strikingly good looking in a classic blond way. He also was slightly effeminate, which became obvious immediately, both from the tone of his voice and the way he carried himself. Andy wasn’t effeminate, so the similarity didn’t dig down too deeply.

“You’re the only ones on the third floor,” Albert was saying as he reached that landing, so you should have all the privacy you need. The Arnolds are on the second floor--across from Mark and me.

Andy wondered if Albert had said that just to drive home to Andy that he--Albert--was gay. But then, Andy thought, “maybe it’s the whole nature of this trip that has my antennae up and has me on edge. That’s all in the past. I’m married now and have managed without someone like Albert for the last three years now”.

Alone in their suite, having explored the two rooms and bath and tucked their suitcases away, Andy said, “You sure you don’t want us to put on our suits and go for a swim? You want to try to take a nap?”

“I want to take a nap, but I want you to put me to sleep as you usually do, Andy,” she answered, giving him “that look.” “I want to try out that ‘all the privacy we need.’”

He fucked her on the queen-sized bed, gently from the rear, as he more frequently was doing as her pregnancy progressed. She lay on her side, with him stretched behind her, her head resting on the crook of his arm, his other hand palming her belly, with one of her hands on top of his. He was inside her, long enough to maintain position from the rear, and slowly moving in and out, letting the friction of the slide and her ability to make her muscles shimmer over his cock bring him to and beyond an ejaculation before both of them drifted off into a light sleep.

* * * *

“Are you folks in Richmond for business or pleasure?” Albert asked when everyone was gathered on the back porch with wine all around, except for the admiral, who had a beer. “Is there anything you need help with as far as where to go and what to do?” He was still giving Andy a look that Andy well knew from “the old days.”

“I’m here on business,” Andy answered. “Sandi came along for the company.”

“I plan to take in the Museum of Fine Arts tomorrow,” Sandra answered. “I hear it has a good collection. Is it within walking distance?”

“Not quite, especially for someone in your condition,” Margaret said. “Is this your first?”

“No, we have an eighteen-month-old, Aaron. My mother is watching him for us. She’s been pressuring me to take some time off from him. Of course, she just wants Aaron all to herself for a few days.”

“You can’t blame her for wanting that,” Margaret answered, with a husky laugh. “I planned to take in the museum while we were here myself. Hal’s here for meetings at the state capitol. Something to do with the naval bases in Norfolk, I think. And I’m just trying to amuse myself. I might as well do it with company, if you’re interested.”

The admiral broke into the conversation for the first time, directing his question at Andy. “You look very familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you someplace before.”

“I don’t know how that would be possible,” Andy answered. “I wasn’t in the Navy.”

Margaret was still talking as well. “The museum opens at ten. I could drive you over there after breakfast and tour it with you.”

“That would be wonderful, thanks,” Sandra said. “We have dinner reservations at a place called Can Can in Carytown this evening, which I’m told is nearby. Have you and your husband been there, or maybe you’d like--?”

“I’ve heard of it and would like to try it,” Margaret said, “but I think we’re set to dine at the Commonwealth Club tonight.”

“We’d be happy to join you at Can Can tonight,” Hal Arnold said, still scrutinizing Andy with his eyes. His voice was deep and commanding. “Albert?”

“I’m sure I can add you to the reservation,” Albert said as he rose to do so.

The dinner conversation was easy--at least between Margaret and Sandra. Andy was a little reticent, and Hal was mostly silent and observant but broke in occasionally with more questions on where he could have seen Andy before.

“We’ve been in Chicago since we married,” Andy said. “I’ve only recently been reassigned to Norfolk by my firm.” Andy didn’t really want to think about that--and certainly not about tomorrow’s meeting. The client he was meeting was a very important one for his office, and the president of the firm, which was headquartered in Norfolk, had made quite clear that Andy had been brought back and moved up because there was a certain service he could provide for the firm. Andy had no idea how Chaz had found out about his past, but he had, and now Andy was over the barrel. Starting a family meant he needed stability and a good salary in a job. He had few illusions why he was the only one who could take on this meeting and this client in Richmond.

“Do whatever it takes,” Chaz had said. “Give the man whatever he wants--whatever will make him sign on the dotted line.”

“But we were in Norfolk before that,” Sandra crossed conversational lines. “We both went to Old Dominion.”

“So, I might have seen you somewhere around the naval base area,” Hal mused out loud.

“I sort of doubt that,” Andy said. “How was your steak? It looked like it would be delicious.”

The admiral let him redirect the conversation, but Andy could see that the man was still working the recognition issue. Andy hoped he didn’t work that too hard. He knew perfectly well where the admiral might have seen him near the Norfolk naval bases.

When they returned to the B&B, the Arnolds went directly upstairs and Andy and Sandra lingered a bit in the public area. Albert came out of the kitchen to ask them how the dinner was and to offer them a brandy.

“Thanks, but I’ve been thinking of that old claw-footed tub that’s in our bathroom,” Sandra said. “I think I’ll go upstairs and soak in the tub and read a book for an hour or more. You guys go ahead and have your brandy.”

When Albert came back with two brandies, he was shirtless. “Hope you don’t mind. It’s really hot back there in the kitchen. We have an air conditioning system, but it doesn’t reach everywhere in this monstrosity of a house. Seven thousand square feet. Would you believe it? They didn’t scrimp on space in those days. All of these old houses in the Fan District are large, like this one. It costs a fortune to heat in the winter.”

Andy both minded that Albert was showing his magnificent chest and didn’t mind at all. He also knew what Albert was signaling, and Andy both minded and, not being able to help himself, didn’t mind that. The man was wearing tight jeans, and it was obvious he had a hard on--and wasn’t going to bother to hide it. He kept giving Andy the eye, and he spread his legs as he sat in a Victorian chair facing where Andy sat and let a hand go to rest on his crotch. Andy looked away and blushed. But he didn’t get up and leave and he didn’t hide that he was taking furtive glances at Albert’s body.

“Say, I didn’t show you everything when I gave you the tour this afternoon. I didn’t show you the carriage house suite. Would you like to see it now? It has a bed to die for.”

He couldn’t get much more suggestive than this. Andy blushed and looked away, but it would be obvious to anyone looking on that he’d been hooked. Involuntarily, he spread his thighs where he was seated and his hand dropped to the hardening curve inside his trousers.

“Where’s Mark this evening?” Andy asked nervously.

“Oh, he has to hit the sack very early. He’ll be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to get your gourmet breakfast prepared. I may be too exhausted in the morning to make breakfast.” He was looking at Andy suggestively. “So, would you like to see the carriage house? No one’s booked there the whole time you’re with us, and it’s quite private.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Andy said. He felt so weak and so aroused. It was this whole deal of coming to Richmond to satisfy an important client--and knowing what would be expected--required--to satisfy the client. Andy hadn’t done anything like that for three years. He hadn’t planned ever to do it again, if he could avoid it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think about it--often.

They stood and Andy followed Albert down the hall toward the back of the house. As they approached the back porch, though, they encountered Hal Arnold, sitting there and smoking a cigar.

At the sight of the admiral, who would have seen them enter the carriage house, Andy lost his nerve. “On second thought, maybe sometime tomorrow. Sandra will want to see it too.”

Albert controlled his disappointment. “OK, that’s fine. I guess I’ll turn in now. Shall we go on upstairs? And don’t worry about disturbing anyone tonight. The other suite on your floor is empty for the next two nights.”

Was he just suggesting a change of venue? If so, it didn’t matter to Andy where they did it--as long as it was in the dark so he could pretend he hadn’t given in to it.

“You go on ahead, Albert,” the admiral said in that commanding voice. “I’d like to talk to Andy about something.”

Trapped, Andy watched helplessly, as Albert slung his T-shirt over his shoulder and clumped up the stairs. The wooden floors were so old and groaning in the house that there was no hiding who was moving where.

When they were alone, the admiral gave Andy a piercing stare. “I remember now where I saw you before. At the Reef, that bar down the street from the entrance into the naval base. You were one of the pole dancers.”

Deflated, Andy sank into a porch chair. “That was a long time ago,” he said in a small voice.

“You also gave massages and serviced sailors, in rooms at the back of the club, I was told,” Arnold continued.

“It’s how I paid for college. It was a long time ago. I changed and have a new life now.”

“A man who fucks men never really changes.”

“I haven’t . . . for years. Haven’t serviced men. I have a family now.”

“And if you want to keep that all lovey-dovey, you’ll service me.”

There was a powder room off the back of the hallway, next to a door into the kitchen. Naked, Andy sat on the toilet, while Arnold, shirtless and his trousers unzipped and flared, hunched over him, stiff arming the wall behind Andy, while Andy sucked a big, thick cock.

When Arnold felt like it, he went down on his knees in front of the toilet, draped Andy’s legs over his shoulders, and went after Andy’s asshole with his tongue. After a while, he made Andy stand, turn, and place a knee on the toilet cover and a foot on the floor next to the toilet, as the admiral covered his slighter and shorter body from behind, cupping Andy’s chin with one hand and palming his belly with the other, as he fucked him fast and hard to an ejaculation.

“See, once you’ve done it, you never forget how to do it,” Arnold said when he was finished. “You got hard. You came for me while I was fucking you. You needn’t pretend you don’t want it.”

“Please, I did it. Can we just forget all about it now?”

“I could forget all about it,” Arnold said, “although it was good enough--you’re sexy enough--for me to want to remember it. I get it regularly with sailors. But, not having had it for three years, you say, you aren’t going to be able to forget about it now. You’re going to come back and beg me for it tomorrow night.” He laughed then, zipped himself up, and shrugged into and buttoned his shirt.

He left Andy there to contemplate both how miserable he was that it had started up again but also how much he had sacrificed by avoiding it for the past three years. He didn’t feel ashamed, only frustrated. He knew he would be doing something like this the next day for his office. And, truth be known, he would have done it tonight with Albert, if they had managed to get someplace private.

Maybe even now--but now it was late. Sandi would want to know why he was gone so long if there was a chance that Albert was waiting for him in that empty suite on the third floor. When he went up to the third floor, he saw that the door to that suite was ajar and that Albert--naked and with the body of a god--was waiting in the shadows of the room. But, with a sigh, Andy turned in the other direction and entered his suite.

Sandra was asleep on the bed, turned away from his side. He was grateful for that. He was sure that she would see the guilt on his face if she’d still been awake. One thing he did know now--he would do all he could to avoid Hal Arnold from now on. And he’d fight the urge to go with Albert too. He’d do what he had to do to get the client to sign that contract, but he wouldn’t let this get out of control--or more out of control, he had to concede.

* * * *

Thane Jockel was a “not so bad” surprise. He was younger than Andy thought he’d be--his early forties perhaps--and in a lot better shape than Andy could have hoped for. He was a beer drinker, which showed in a slight beer belly, but he also obviously spent a lot of time in the gym, because he had well-developed pecs and biceps. He wasn’t what Andy would call handsome, but all of the features in his florid redheaded countenance were in the right place. He did have a strawberry birthmark on the left side of his face that extended from the bottom of his earlobe down to below his cheekbone, but much of that was covered by his perpetual five-o’clock-shadow beard, which also had a reddish tint to it.

The most important thing, though, was that he seemed to be quite happy with what he found in Andy. During the briefing in his office, he sat close to the representative of Whittier and Wilson, who had been sent from Norfolk to cajole Thane to sign a contract he would have signed anyway. Still and all, though, he wasn’t about to turn down the signing bonus they were sending to him.

Andy was the way Thane liked them. Very well formed, but not more than five foot six. Blond and movie star handsome. Strikingly good looking, but not vain about it. Soft-spoken and diffident of demeanor, without being effeminate. Still, clearly a sub to anyone with an eye trained to this. Someone who could be dominated. Someone, Whittier had assured Thane, would give him what he wanted but not be a slut about it.

“This afternoon I would like to invite you to a private gym I belong to for a workout. I’ll write the address and directions down for you--it’s not hard to get to, but it’s a little hard to recognize when you’re there. Later, if I’m satisfied, I’ll take you to dinner at the Jefferson Hotel.” Jockel was all business in saying this--and it didn’t come out as a “would you like?”

“You want to work out with me and you’ll take me to dinner if I somehow satisfy you?”

“Yes, I was told I owned your body for the day. I like to work out--and I don’t mind doing that with good-looking, accommodating young men. I also like to eat well. Do we fully understand each other?”

“My body for the price of a dinner?” Andy said. He said it more in amusement than anything else. He knew the score. And he knew that Jockel knew it as well.

“I was led to believe that I already own your body--if I sign this contract. It will be a very expensive dinner. The Lemaire restaurant at the Jefferson is the city’s most exclusive. I would expect top service from you to take you there as payment. That’s just a bonus for good work, though. I’ll pay for your services by signing this contract after dinner. And I still expect top service.” He was smiling, but there were no laugh lines around his eyes. Andy hoped he hadn’t gone too far.

“I don’t have any gym clothes with me.”

“Do you have any where you are staying?” Jockel asked.

“Yes, and if we don’t meet up again until 2:00, I have plenty of time to go back to the B&B and get them.”

“What B&B are you staying at?”

“The Grove Manor Inn at Grove and North Meadow,” Andy answered.

“Ah, Albert LeCaste,” Jockel said, with a knowing smile.

“Yes, Albert is the host there.”

“And was he good? I’ve heard he’s very good. I mean did he fuck well? He must have had you by now. I’ll have to phone him and ask him how well you performed.”

“I don’t know if he’s good; he hasn’t done what you suggest with me,” Andy answered, truthfully. He didn’t add “yet,” because he was trying to exhibit willpower that would negate that happening. He rushed on with a change of topic as they rose and Jockel handed over a slip of paper with the address and directions to the gym. “You said I’d have trouble picking the gym out.”

“It’s in the basement of an old warehouse off an alley paralleling Broad Street,” he answered. “You park in back and there are steps down to it. The sign isn’t big. They don’t want to attract unwanted attention.”

“Ah, a gay gym, then?”

“More a club than a gym, but they have a very good, well equipped workout room--and private rooms--for other forms of working out.”

“Ah. You’re going to fuck me there?”


Albert’s car was gone when Andy parked behind the B&B after having grabbed lunch at a fast-food restaurant. All was silent on the first floor when he entered. It wasn’t so silent as he moved up the stairs to the second floor. As soon as he heard the sounds, he tried to tread gently on the old oak stair treads, but he was sure he could be heard from the owners’ suite. It apparently didn’t matter that he could.

The door from the hallway to the owners’ bedroom, with its large king-sized bed, was open. The two of them were on the bed, both naked. Mark, the domesticated half of the host pair, was on his knees, his buttocks raised, but his chest was flat on the surface of the bed, his arms stretched out, fists bunching up wads of the bedspread. His head was turned toward Andy, a mixed look of pain and ecstasy showing in his eyes, his mouth yawning open, a bubble formed between his lips. His eyes had a glassy stare to indicate that the fuck had been going on for some time.

Crouched over him, his arms wrapped possessively around Mark’s chest and pumping him hard and deep, was the admiral. He turned his head toward Andy as Andy came around the staircase for the climb to the third floor. The look he gave was one of a total lack of surprise or care about what Andy saw.

The sounds Andy had heard on the way up the stairs had mostly come from Mark. There were grunting noises from Hal Arnold, but the sounds were mainly from Mark, signaling that he was being taken rough, deep, thick, and with full satisfaction. Andy had experienced all of that from the admiral the night before himself--although the positioning in the powder room had denied the admiral the depth he no doubt was getting with Mark. Embarrassed and frustrated as it made him, he did feel a pang of jealously at what Mark was getting now.

That wasn’t the real shock of the afternoon for Andy, though. Moving as quietly as he could to the next floor, in the bedroom of the suite immediately over the head of the room where Hal Arnold was fucking Mark, also with the door to the hall ajar, he spied his wife, Sandra, naked, stretched out on their bed. Reversed and stretched beside her was an equally naked Margaret. Both women were moaning and purring. Each had her face buried in the muff of the other.

Andy’s suitcase was in that room. He couldn’t go in there under these circumstance. Pulling away from the door from the shock of the immediate discovery of the two women doing their own version of fucking, Andy stood in the shadow of the hallway momentarily to catch his breath and bearing.

Not feeling nearly as guilty now about what he was about to do and what he’d already done the night before, he left the B&B and stopped at a sportswear store on his way to the gym off Broad Street to buy what he needed for the gym workout. He’d claim the cost from Whittier and Wilson as a travel expense, and they damn well could pay for it. He was so steamed at Sandra for falling off the wagon that he was blotting out in his mind that he’d done that first and he was in the mood to give Thane Jockel more than his money’s worth.

* * * *

Thane was serious about the gym workout. They did nearly an hour of sets before showering and settling down in the private room Jockel had reserved. They both exercised shirtless, and the hands-on spotting they did of each other became more steamy and intimate as they went on. It was definitely a gay club and no inhibitions were in evidence on the gym floor. Thane and Andy weren’t the first that afternoon to fuck right out on the gym floor, using the equipment as props.

Jockel didn’t seem to mind being on exhibition, and Andy had been instructed not to care either. Jockel was on an incline bench, having just done chest lifts with a heavy set of barbells. His biceps were popping out, as were his chest muscles. Andy had been standing over him, facing him, and his thighs straddling Jockel’s on the bench, when one of the staff physical trainers came over and took the barbells away, muttering to Jockel, “Come on, Thane, fuck him here and now. You’ve got the other guys going. Cute young meat like this needs to be riding a dick to entertain the crowd.”

Jockel looked up at Andy. “I’m told you were a pole dancer.”

“Years ago,” Andy answered. “Nothing like that in the last three years.”

“Did you do lap dances?”


“Do one for me now. Jocks only--and only for the start.”

Andy did a lap dance on Thane’s lap, both facing him and gyrating slowly over his body, rubbing their two pouched cocks together and periodically going in for mouth work. When he turned away from Thane, they lost the jocks, someone provided a condom for Thane, and Andy descended on Thane’s cock and writhed on the buried staff, while one of the other gym patrons knelt in front of Andy and sucked his cock and balls to an ejaculation.

Jockel, his hands holding Andy’s waist, had already come.

Doing a scan of the audience after he had shot his load, Andy was surprised to see Hal Arnold, in gym clothes, standing at the rear of the pack and watching him intently.

How long had the admiral been standing there, watching Jockel and him build up to this and then to carry through to explosion?

Andy didn’t have long to contemplate this, however, as Jockel wanted to go to the sauna then. The sauna was a repeat performance--well, an enhanced one. Both naked and glistening with sweat, with Jockel sitting on a teak bench, Andy sat on Thane’s cock, facing him, and rose and fell and revolved and swayed on the cock. Other men were in the sauna, also fucking, and/or watching, taking care of themselves, or hopefully waiting for their turn with someone who attracted them.

Hal Arnold materialized from the mist, saddled up behind Andy, and without so much as asking permission, pushed Andy’s chest into Jockel’s, crouched over Jockel’s thighs, and began working his cock inside on top of Jockel’s buried cock.

Andy took them both. Thane was sheathed; Hal was not. Thane was long and of average girth; Hal was long and thick. Thane came in the bulb of his rubber and just held there, buried inside Andy; Hal pistoned Andy hard and deep, shot off, slathering Andy’s passage and Thane’s sheathed cock, and then pulled out and disappeared.

Thane said nothing about how unusual that was, having shared sex with a monster of a man, who just appeared. And Andy said nothing about knowing Arnold or having been fucked by him before.

There were a couple of hours of showers, a sensual massage ending in a cowboy ride, and missionary fucking in a private room and then a delicious crab cake dinner at the Jefferson Hotel before, smiling, and noting that the contract would have to be renewed--in the same manner--in a year’s time, Thane Jockel handed Andy a signed contract and, with a slap on his butt, sent him back to the B&B.

But if Andy thought he was being sent back for a night of rest, he was sadly mistaken.

* * * *

Hal Arnold was sitting on the back porch of the B&B when Andy returned around 9:00 p.m.

“You look wrung out,” he said as Andy climbed the steps to the porch. “And you’ve been gone a long time. Has that guy been fucking you nonstop since I left the sauna?”

“We went to dinner at Lemaire, in the Jefferson Hotel. He’s the reason why I’m here. I had to give him what he wanted to get a contract signed for my office.”

“So, that’s why you’ve been so buggy since you arrived. You said it had been some time but you acted like you were really ready for it--especially with Albert.”

“Yes, it had been some time. I thought I’d kicked it. I didn’t count on the office wanting to use it.”

“Have a seat, Andy. You look like you could use some brandy.” Arnold poured him a slug of brandy in a sifter and held it out to Andy. Andy took it, and gulped half of it, while still standing there.

“I can’t sit. It’s late. I have to see if Sandra needs to be taken to dinner.”

“Sandra’s had dinner. She went out with Margaret. And I don’t think you want to go upstairs right now.”

“Why?” Andy suspected he knew why but he could see the admiral knowing what Sandra and his wife could be up to upstairs. He had thought that Sandra had kicked it too. They’d been so good together.

“Your wife and mine are upstairs fucking, or whatever it is that women do with each other. But you don’t seem to be surprised.”

“I’m not. I saw them this afternoon--when you were nailing Mark in his bed. I didn’t think you knew, though.”

“Of course I knew. Margaret told me she fancied Sandra and would be having sex with her if Sandra was interested. She says that Sandra is very interested--and experienced. Did you know your wife was experienced in having sex with women?”

Andy looked away. He could try to hide it, but he was tired, and what was the point? “Before we were married, we both were into sex with our own gender,” Andy said. “But I thought we’d both changed. I know I did what I could to keep away from men--until now. Until you forced me last night.”

“I didn’t really force you to blow me and to let me fuck you, Andy. You wanted it. To hear what you just said, you knew it was going to happen today anyway. You would have gone with Albert last night if I hadn’t gotten to you first. Let’s not bother playing that game. So, do you love your wife and is the sex with her good?”

“Yes, I love her. And the sex is great. It always was. And I don’t think she was faking it either. We were both surprised, I think, that we hit it off so well.”

“Sit down, and let’s talk.”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you and I really have anything much to say to each other. I have to go upstairs.”

“But where upstairs? I think Margaret and Sandra are in your suite.”

“Maybe I’ll find Albert and he can decide where we go.”

“Or maybe you can come with me to my room. As I recall from what I was told about you at the Reef Bar, you give quite fulfilling massages. You know I have what you want. But I think you need to get your head on straight first, Andy. You know you can have your cake and eat it too. That’s what Margaret and I do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Margaret and I get along great together--and the sex we have is terrific. We just both know that we also can have terrific sex with our own kind. We’re bisexual, and we accept that. It looks to me like you and Sandra are bi too. And I think you can learn to like that and that you can both enjoy life more.”

“So, you don’t care that your wife is up there bonking my wife?”

“Not a bit of it. I plan to be bonking you upstairs in a few minutes. We both can have our fun and still meet out wives in bed later. Not tonight, though, I don’t think. Margaret said Sandra wanted her all night. If you stayed another night, the four of us could have a go at it together.”

“Margaret said Sandra said that? If so, then there’s no way I wouldn’t know . . . and I don’t think--”

“I told Sandra I fucked you last night. She didn’t seem to have any trouble believing it. And I told her that both the guy you’d come to Richmond to see and I had fucked you this afternoon. I was very descriptive about what we did. I told her not to worry about me knowing she and Margaret were doing it and not to lose any sleep over you knowing it too--because you already had opened your thighs to two men in the last day--repeatedly--and would have done so for Albert too if you had had the chance.”

“And she was angry?”

“No, she acted like she was relieved--like she was glad that this was all coming out into the open. When I had the ‘just go ahead and be bi and available’ discussion with her, she seemed quite pleased with it.”

“Quite pleased with it?”

“Yes, I fucked her myself while you were having your dinner at the Jefferson. I had no idea that fucking a pregnant woman could be so . . . interesting. And I didn’t have to ask her for it. She wanted me to fuck her. I guess you could say that we did a three way with Margaret.”

Andy sensed the admiral was watching him closely for a reaction, ready to counter him, if Andy sprang at him. But Andy knew the admiral could pulverize him if he wanted to, and he just couldn’t bring himself to be surprised that Sandra would let the man fuck her. She’d remarked earlier on how virile he looked.

“The ‘have your cake and eat it too’ approach can reduce stress significantly,” the admiral said. “You just have to release your inhibitions.”

Andy took another swig of brandy. He was looking through the open door to the house and into the back hall. “I guess it’s something to think about,” he said.

“So, come upstairs with me. I want a special massage and then I want to fuck your lights out,” the admiral said, as he unfolded his massive body from the porch chair.

“I don’t think so,” Andy answered. “Albert, I’d like to see the carriage apartment now, if you still want to show it to me.”

“Yes, I want to do you--I mean I want to show you the apartment,” Albert said, as he emerged onto the porch from the back hallway.

“How long have you been there and listening to us?” Hal asked.

“Long enough. And I agree with you. I don’t see why Andrew here can’t--what was that you said? have his cake and eat it too. My cock wants him and I think he wants me too. I see no reason why Andrew can’t enjoy everything that he wants. I do.”

“You’ve fucked my wife, haven’t you?” Arnold asked.

Albert just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. But then he did say, “You fucked my husband, so I didn’t see why I shouldn’t--and she’s the one who said she wanted it.”

“Have you fucked Andy’s wife too?” The inflection of Arnold’s voice indicated that he was amused rather than angry.

Another smile and a shrug.

“So you haven’t been listening that long in the shadows. I’ve already told Andy I did. You probably know I did. She was there at the time. I couldn’t take care of one and not the other.” He turned then to Andy. “You didn’t react when I told you I had. Do you care?”

“Not if that’s what Sandi wanted,” Andy said. He turned to Hal then. “See I can start to adjust to this.” Turning back to Albert, he said, “I don’t care who else you fuck if you take me to the carriage house now and are good to me.”

“I can be very, very good to you. I enjoy both, but men the most.”

“And what about me?” Arnold said.

“Mark enjoyed you this afternoon. He’s upstairs in our bed, reading a book, but ever hopeful, with his knees spread and a pillow under his buttocks. Enjoy him for as long as you want. I think I’ll be in the carriage house with Andrew all night.”

“Or maybe I’ll visit the women again. I’ve been thinking of a position to try with a pregnant woman--she sitting in my lap, facing away from me, with my hands spread out on her belly, sensitive to the movement of the baby as I fuck her deep. Do you do it that way, Andy?”

He looked at Andy to see if he could get a rise out of him, but Andy turned from him, reached out for Albert’s hand, and followed him out into the garden.

It wasn’t all night, but Albert was a vigorous cocksman and a fast recoverer, so he fucked Andy three times before he let the young blond hobble away. Since Andy had been fucked multiple times earlier that day by Thane and a combination of Thane and Hal, he was totally exhausted before the men were finished with him for that day and night. But he left the bed in the carriage house apartment with a lopsided smile on his face and humming.

The difference between Albert and the two other men of the day, Thane and Hal, was that the other two were complete takers in sex. They were just about getting themselves off--using Andy to get themselves off. Albert took time and brought Andy along--first missionary style, then doggie, then, in gratitude, Andy riding Albert’s cock in a cowboy--until each time Andy was shivering, shuddering, and shimmering, begging for what Albert then gave him vigorously, thickly, and deep.

It was Andy who got sucked off first with Albert, laid gently on the bed on his back, with Albert working down his body with lips and teeth and hands, paying attention to every trembling curve and crevice of Andy, until Albert reached his hard cock, ingested it deep, held Andy prisoner in strong arms, and sucked Andy’s cock and balls until the young man could take no more and gave up great strings of cum.

It was then, when Andy was mellow and purring, that Albert took him hard and fast and totally, plastering his forehead to Andy’s as he plowed him hard, capturing Andy’s eyes with his and making sure that every reaction to what Albert was doing thickly and deeply inside Andy was conveyed through the eyes.

The second time was languid and prolonged, Albert taking Andy to the brink and then pulling him back, holding him tight, as he twitched into the curbing of the need, only to reach a higher plateau with the next slow pumping, sucking of nipples, kissing and tonguing of bare skin, until Albert no longer could hold himself in check and, once more, took Andy hard and swiftly.

The third time, Albert on his back, wrists crossed behind his neck, smiling and groaning for Andy, was all Andy’s show, riding the cock in long waves of rising and falling, revolving, and corkscrew maneuvers, with the heels of his hands pressing into Albert’s taut nipples.

They slept for an hour or more in each other’s arms after the last ejaculation from each. Andy woke before Albert did and slowly worked his way from Albert’s embrace, dressed, and left the carriage house. Not knowing what he would find, he entered the main house and mounted the stairs. He didn’t know where he’d sleep if Margaret was still with Sandi in his bed. She wasn’t, though. The door was ajar to the Arnold’s suite. Margaret was under Hal on the bed and he was plowing her hard.

Across the hall, the door to the owners’ suite was ajar as well. Mark was stretched out on a diagonal on the bed, belly to sheets, one arm hanging over the side of the bed, in exhaustion, his eyes slitted and staring glassily at Andy as Andy mounted the stairs to the third floor. So, Andy surmised, Hal had just been baiting him, It was Mark he had fucked before he and Margaret went to bed in their own room. Although the question was still there. Hal had had time to cover everyone else in the house while Andy was with Albert.

Sandra was on her side, entwined with her body pillow, facing away from the door, snoring lightly. Andy undressed and climbed into the bed and stretched his body along the line of hers. He brushed the hair away from her neck and kissed her there. Her heavy breathing turned into a sigh.

He pulled her up from the bed and onto his cock and lap, facing away from him, as he sat on the side of the bed. Spreading his palms on her belly and plastering his face into the nape of her neck, he rocked them together, back and forth, with her passage muscles gripping and undulating along his cock, the muscles of her belly rippling.

“Um, that’s nice,” she murmured.

“Did you just do this with Hal Arnold tonight?” he whispered, feeling the slickness inside her that had preceded his penetration.

“Yes,” she answered, with an intake of her breath. “Do you mind? Really? He said you wouldn’t. That he’d had a talk with you.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he answered. And he found that he didn’t. Not really. Not if that was what she wanted. Not if it meant he could get more of what he wanted. He wondered if she was thinking of the admiral doing this to her. He was, and he found the image arousing. He wanted the admiral to do it to him too.

“I’m glad we know,” she whispered. “It will change our life, but for the better, I think.”

“Make it richer, broaden out our pleasures,” Andy whispered back.

“I’m glad you see it that way. I’m glad we came to Richmond.”

“Me too.” And, even here, he really was glad.

* * * *

Breakfast the next morning was a somewhat silent time. It seemed that everyone, including Albert, who stood at the side of the table, adjusting this and that, and Mark, who popped in and out of the kitchen with food, had lost the need to say anything. Everyone was satiated, but no one seemed to be pairing up with anyone else in particular. Everyone had had almost everyone else.

There had been even more of that in the early morning hours. Andy had gotten up in to use the bathroom and had followed the sounds down the stairs to find Margaret sandwiched between her husband and Albert on the Arnold’s bed, with each man specializing in filling his designated orifice. Andy had just shrugged and gone back to bed.

“Here’s my card on how to reach me in Norfolk,” Hal Arnold said to Andy, as he rose from the table. “Margaret is taking my credit cards and me shopping in Carytown this morning, so we won’t be here when you and Sandra leave. Unless, of course, you add a night.” He looked at Andy with an amused, expectant smile on his face.

“I think we need to get back,” Andy answered, weakly.

Andy and Sandra’s suitcases were already downstairs and in the hall. They would be driving out shortly after breakfast.

Andy hesitated to take Hal’s card, but he did take it--with no intention of ever calling Hal. At least that’s what he told himself.

“Give Hal one of your cards too,” Sandra prompted him.

That was an entirely different matter. The only connection being whether he’d call Hal was one thing. Letting Hal know how to get hold of them was something entirely different. Everyone in the room saw--and probably correctly interpreted--his hesitancy.

“I’ve already shared addresses and phone numbers with Margaret,” Sandra said. “We’ve come this far; we shouldn’t backtrack now.”

“I fully intend on continuing our relationship,” Hal said, using his admiral’s voice. “Remember. You can have your cake and eat it too.”

Andy looked at Albert, who smiled and said, “Your wife is right, Andy. You don’t want to go back now. I expect to see you both back here sooner than later too.”

Andy pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Hal, knowing that this simple gesture opened a whole new aspect of his and Sandra’s lives.



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