Come Me Mr. Sax Man

Trent was almost embarrassed about how closely Buzz held him both as they waited for the tender to go back to the ship and while they were on it. It was barely 2:30 in the afternoon when they got back on board. The tender platform was on deck one, so they didn’t climb stairs or take an elevator to get to Buzz’s cabin. Trent initially was a bit worried when he learned Buzz was housed on deck one just like he and most of the rest of the ship’s crew and staff were--mostly because he didn’t want there to be any chance that they would encounter the stage director, who quite clearly was under the impression that Trent would be moving into his cabin now. But Erick’s cabin--and his own--were aft on the ship, and Buzz took a turn forward when, arm closely holding Trent to his side, he turned down the corridor to his cabin.

The cabin itself was a pleasant surprise. For one, the first impression was that it was twice as large as Erick’s was. But that was only a first impression. It was the same size; it only looked larger because the entire wall behind the bed headboard was a mirror, reflecting the rest of the room. If anything, there was less space to maneuver in this cabin than Erick’s, because Erick’s bed was a single berth, and this cabin had a double bed. However, this cabin was much better appointed, with better-quality furniture and fabrics that weren’t that much different from what Trent had seen in the Brazilian’s suite.

Buzz was still standing in the cabin doorway, holding Trent in his arms like a bride he was carrying across the threshold, which disconcerted Trent more than a bit, when Trent whistled and said, “You certainly have better cabins at this end of the ship than we have at the back of it.”

“Part of the codicil,” Buzz replied. “In a pinch, I have to bring the rich bitches I service here--if there’s some reason we can’t go to their cabins. The cruise line doesn’t want them to know how far down the food chain the crew and staff rate.”

“Am I going to have to be riddled with jealousy?” Trent asked.

“Only if you insist on it. I won’t be bringing them back here again, though, as this is where you will be. That’s OK. The two I am set up with for the rest of the cruise are alone in their cabins, which are a lot nicer than this one.” He leaned down and took Trent’s lips in his again. When they released from that kiss, he entered the cabin, pushed the door closed with the heel of his foot, moved over to the bed, laid Trent in the center of it, and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He pulled Trent’s T-shirt over his head and then took hold of the waistband of Trent’s shorts and began to tug.

“Don’t you think we should shower first?” Trent murmured.

“I can’t wait. I want you again. It was all I could do not to strip you and take you on the tender. You are just too sexy for your own good.”

“Don’t you think--?”

“You have me to do our thinking now.” He had stripped Trent naked, and, crouched over his hips, was slapping his hard-again cock on the small of Trent’s back and on his butt cheeks. He was running the balls of the cock barbell over the tender flesh. Trent cried out and nearly lifted his torso off the bed as Buzz entered him again and started plowing deep, the bars demanding that Trent open completely again to the throbbing cock following them. After Buzz had ejaculated, again not using a condom--the two now having the understanding that they wouldn’t--he laid at full stretch on Trent’s back and nuzzled the back of Trent’s neck with his lips.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured.

“And I can’t get enough of that cock barbell. Should we take those showers now?”

“You forgot how I am.”

“How you are?”

“I’m two-fuck Buzz, remember?”

Trent groaned. He could already feel Buzz hardening up inside him again. As before the first fuck had been furious, fast, and deep. This time, Buzz took more time. After a few minutes of recovery, and without losing purchase of his hard dick inside Trent’s channel, Buzz raised up on his knees, bringing Trent up on his knees with him. Buzz was encircling Trent’s chest with both of his arms. With one hand he cupped Trent’s chin, pulling the younger man’s head back into the hollow between Buzz’s chest and arm. The other hand went down to fist Trent’s cock. Trent was staring into the full-wall mirror behind the headboard of the bed. He moaned and sighed as Buzz slow-fucked him for the second taking and jacked him off in the rhythm of the fuck.

After they had both ejaculated, Buzz just held Trent there for several minutes, gently rocking back and forth as they both felt his cock go dormant.

“Time for that shower now,” Buzz murmured.

“The what?” Trent whispered, totally lost in the fuck and the creaming of his insides. “Oh, yes, the shower.”

“Then I want you to go to your cabin and get your things and bring them back here while I’m gone. I have an extra sea pass card I can give you to get in the cabin. This is your home now.”

“While you’re gone?” Trent asked in a drowsy and slightly confused voice.

“The show must go on. I have a predinner set to play in the Schooner Bar. You should remember; you’ve been there every day of the cruise. So, I’ll shower first. Barely have time to make it.”

Buzz was gone when Trent got out of the shower. When he had dried off, he had to scrounge around and put on some of Buzz’s clothes--which were significantly oversized for him--to go back to his own cabin. The T and shorts he’d worn to Coco Cay were much too grungy now. Once in his cabin, he didn’t clear out all of his stuff. He wasn’t sure of this. He was head over heels for Buzz, of course, but there were signs of possessive in Buzz that Trent wasn’t sure of. Trent melted to commanding men, but this was a bit different. Being dominated before had been confined to the seduction and sexual act itself. It hadn’t taken on the “all and forever” hint that Buzz was telegraphing, whether he realized it or not.

So, Trent took some of his clothes back to Buzz’s cabin, dressed, and then went up to the Schooner Bar.

The brunette he had previously seen Buzz with on the beach at Coco Cay had made a claim on Buzz already. Trent sat down at the end of the bar as usual and ordered a beer from the tattooed barman who had fucked him so roughly earlier in the voyage--and who was buzzing around him like he expected to be doing that again when Buzz walked off with the brunette.

But everything had changed now. As soon as Trent realized, with some shock, that Buzz was reacting to this rich bitch just as he had done in days past, before he had fucked Trent, Trent understood that life may have changed for him, but not necessarily for Buzz.

Not being able to contain his anger and disappointment with this--although he had to acknowledge to himself that Buzz had almost directly said nothing would change for him other than losing the option of using his cabin to fuck the women, Trent just shrugged off the interest the barman was according him and left the bar.

He knew now that Buzz wouldn’t be back in the room for the rest of the evening. After he had done this set, serviced this woman, gotten his dinner, done his next set, and serviced yet another woman, it would be nighttime. Trent wondered if Buzz would then have enough stamina to fuck him, but after having this thought, he shook his head and cursed himself. The man had fucked him four times today already. Rather than wondering when he’d do it again, Trent told himself he should be questioning himself on being willing to share the man’s cock with a parade of silly middle-aged women. Trent didn’t want to even think about that now. He wanted to go someplace where he could think or try not to think--whatever he decided was appropriate to the situation.

He decided to go bake at the pool for a while. The sun was still up in a cloudless sky, and, although under way again, the ship was still in the tropics.

* * * *

Without thinking, Trent went to the same chaise lounge at the stern of the ship beside the rock-climbing wall that he had occupied on a couple of occasions--and been gangbanged on. It was late enough in the afternoon that he was the only one in that section of chairs. This suited him just fine. He needed to think about Buzz. The sex was tremendous, and, if Trent was capable of love, he thought he was in love with the saxophonist. But there were aspects of the man and what he was dictating that just didn’t set right with Trent.

He was staring out to sea, lost in thought, when a blur entered his line of sight. Something familiar about it made him focus on it. The Brazilian was taking one of his constitutional walks around the perimeter of the swimming deck. And he had in tow a handsome young man who looked barely legal.

The Brazilian slowed down, turned, and smiled at Trent as he passed by him. The young man almost ran in to him, and the Brazilian reached out with both hands to steady the young man from falling. Trent thought he could discern an intimacy between the two from just this gesture.

On the next pass the Brazilian stopped dead at the foot of Trent’s lounge, turned, and whispered something to the young man. The young man didn’t look too pleased, but, after hesitating to be sure of what the Brazilian wanted him to do, he shrugged and moved on with his walk, leaving the Brazilian standing there.

He didn’t stand there for long, though. With a “Do you mind?” and not waiting for an answer, he sat down on the side of the chaise lounge next to Trent just as he had that first time and leaned over Trent’s stretched torso.

“I haven’t seen you around,” he said.

“But you haven’t seemed to miss me,” Trent answered. “You obviously have moved on--and to something appreciably younger.”

“I take these cruises to copulate with young men,” the Brazilian said simply and directly. “And I like variety. Stuart there is just today’s young man--or maybe just earlier today’s young man. There is time in the day for another young man. Maybe you.”

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

“Why should I? I don’t owe anyone anything and I have more than enough resources to not kiss anyone’s ass I don’t want to kiss. I find being straightforward saves time. And time is the one thing I can’t buy any more of. But enough of philosophy. I have missed not seeing you, and I would like to fuck you again. The same, if you are willing, $100 for my first ejaculation and $50 for each subsequent one. You may have as many ejaculations as I can coax from you. I have already sent Stuart away, which should show you how interested I am.”

Trent laughed. It was rather a nervous laugh, though. He felt he should resist. Buzz had that sort of power over him--already--that he would feel obligated to the man even as he, no doubt, was in the brunette’s cabin already into the second fuck. “But you yourself said you crave variety. And I’ve heard you comment on preferring fresh men. The one you were just with--Stuart, you called him--looks almost like he could get you into trouble in American waters. That should be arousing for you. And I’ve changed. I’m not the same man I was two days ago--or in the same situation.”

“If anything your body is even more beautiful than I have remembered it,” the Brazilian said. “And, yes, I admit that I like variety and fresh young men--and that you are a whore, so I should not be coming back to you. But you should take it as a compliment that I do--that I ache to fuck you again.”

Trent felt himself trembling. It would be the perfect answer to Buzz’s assumptions of his control over Trent. And the Brazilian was so arousing--in the way he looked, in the straightforward language he used, in the expert way he fucked. The Brazilian was taking the liberty of holding Trent’s cock through the thin material of the Speedo. And they both knew that Trent was responding to the touch.

“You use the word ‘whore’ almost as if you approve.”

“I approve of your experience in the fuck, and your ability to respond as if you are getting pleasure from it--if you are not responding genuinely to me, I don’t want to hear it; I melt to the natural, enthusiastic yielding of you.”

“There is no playacting when you fuck me,” Trent assured the man. “You fuck me in ways that no other man has. You fuck my mind as well as my body. There are men who can fuck me emotionally as well as physically, but no one can fuck my imagination as you did.”

The Brazilian smiled, and continued. “I admire the marvelous way you have kept your body in shape. And you make me want to give you something.”

“Give me something? Something other than money? You’ve clearly set what you think I’m worth in terms of money.”

“If you wanted more money, I would give it to you. But I have something more valuable to give to you.”

“More valuable?”

“I can give you attention and pleasure just as if you weren’t a whore--as if you were a young virgin who I wanted to give full pleasure to--just to enjoy listening to you moan at the height of ecstasy--to watch you writhe and sigh under me as if you never had a man fuck you so well. I will spend time and effort giving you pleasure. I doubt that many of your clients think of anything but their own pleasure.”

Trent was already moving his hips and moaning under the close attention the Brazilian could give his cock even through the material of the Speedo.

“Have you forgotten the pleasure with which you cried out at the feel of my Prince Albert inside you?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.” His mind immediate went to the balls of Buzz’s cock barbell. But that was a different feeling. The PA cock ring had an arousal all its own.

“I have other pleasures I can give you. We are not finished with our exploration of the heights of ecstasy, you and I. Come down to my suite. Let me fuck you to heaven again.” He leaned down and took possession of Trent’s lips. When he disengaged from the kiss and pulled away from Trent’s face and gazed into the young man’s eyes, he knew that he had won.

Trent stood up from the lounge and followed the Brazilian toward a door into one of the ship’s stairwells.

“We will take positions I think you may never have experienced and with toys you may never had used before,” the Brazilian said as he stood over Trent, who was lying on the bed, naked, in the suite.

Trent was staring at the nightstand next to the bed. There was the anticipated pile of cash. But there also were toys and condoms. Dildos he had experienced before. But not one as deeply ribbed as one there or as thick and long as a curved twelve-incher laid on the other as if they were crossed swords. He had no idea what the four ovals that looked like oversized eggs were for. The string of graduated, pear-shaped balls he knew about, but never had been fucked with. There were more than enough boxes of condoms. Ultra thins, Trojan Ultra Ribbed condoms, and Lifestyle rubber-studded Rough Riders. No one had ever bothered to use the latter two on Trent.

The Brazilian followed Trent’s gaze. “Yes, we will use them all, and these too.” Trent looked back to him. He was holding four sets of velvet-lined handcuffs. Once spread-eagled and bound to the head- and footboard, the snap of the latex gloves as the Brazilian pulled them on his hands made Trent look up sharply at him and moan deeply in fear and anticipation.

Trent was introduced to the toys--the ribbed dildo and the graduated beads--but, as the Brazilian promised, only to the upper-most point of producing writhing and groaning pleasure, even when he was invaded and stretched with he didn’t know how many of the Brazilian’s fingers. When, his body raised on his elbows and knees enough from the surface of the bed that he could stroke his cock on the surface, Trent had come in a flood of lustful passion, the Brazilian stopped with the toys and uncuffed the younger man. Throughout the process, the Brazilian had moved away from time to time to take digital photos. He’d had the courtesy to ask if Trent minded, though, saying that the photos were keepsakes of his travels that he treasured--and that he’d treasure those of Trent especially much. And that he’d pay extra for them.

Having ejaculated--but not being aware that the Brazilian had as yet--and panting heavily, Trent watched the Brazilian consider the boxed specialty condoms and select the Lifestyle Rough Riders. As the Brazilian rolled the condom on his cock, Trent moaned at the sight of the rubber studs running up and down the sheath.

After the Brazilian mounted him, it fairly quickly became a position, as promised, that Trent hadn’t even imagined before. Trent was still on his belly, his head toward the headboard, when the Brazilian straddled his hips and began working his stud-sheathed cock inside the young man. Trent writhed and moaned in pleasure at the new sensation of the feel of the studs working his walls in addition to the familiar effect of the thick penis ring. Then he gasped, as the Brazilian began to rotate his body--to screw his cock around inside Trent’s channel--until he was facing the footboard. The Brazilian’s calves worked their way under Trent’s armpits and the tops of his feet pressed on the back of Trent’s head. He wrapped his arms around Trent’s calves, and then he pulled Trent’s legs up, making Trent’s back arch in a curve.

Trent cried out in ecstasy and the Brazilian started their bodies into a rocking motion, a motion that moved his stud-sheathed cock up and down inside Trent’s channel. This time the Brazilian came as well--not long after Trent had come for a second time.

A half hour later, the weight of Trent’s body was being borne by his shoulders, as the Brazilian stood over his raised body, holding Trent’s legs, and fucking sideways down at him, wearing an Ultra Thin now and fucking them both to another ejaculation at a shallow depth, his cock ring rubbing again and again on Trent’s prostate.

The sun was approaching the horizon of the sea through the four glass doors out onto the suite’s balcony as the two sat on the bed, with Trent reclining in the Brazilian’s arms and sitting on a twelve-inch dildo. The Brazilian was kissing Trent and running his hands over Trent’s chest, belly, thighs, and genitals, as he slowly rocked Trent’s body on the buried dildo.

“Am I giving you pleasure--attention that your clients usually do not give you?” the Brazilian murmured.

“Yes, oh, yes,” Trent whispered. “I don’t know if I can take much more of this pleasure, though. My balls ache at what has been drawn out of them. I’ve lost count. I need to rest. I should be leaving.”

“You feel you should be leaving, but you want to know what I have for you next. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes,” Trent admitted in a quiet voice.

“I will order dinner brought in. Perhaps after we’ve eaten, you will wish to play some more.”

When Trent didn’t demur, the Brazilian added, “While we wait for the food, why don’t you take a shower and refresh yourself. Then we will start again.”

Trent shuddered and suppressed a moan, but he did not object. The man held him in thrall--just as Buzz did. But in a different way. This man was controlling him with mystery and invention and spikes of ecstasy. Buzz controlled him with his ability to make Trent feel as one unit with him when fully possessed with his monster cock and progressively taken higher to heaven.

When Trent padded out of the bathroom, rubbing his head with a fluffy towel, the Brazilian gave a low whistle.

“If only I could capture you like that for all time,” he said. “May I take more photos of you?”

Trent acquiesced, and while they were waiting for their food he took various provocative poses as the Brazilian moved around him, snapping off photos.

There was a knock on the door, and Trent retreated to the bathroom as the room steward entered and set the dinner for two up on the round table in the living area of the suite.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” the Brazilian asked as they were eating.

“Yes.”

“In spite of yourself?”

“Yes, a bit, yes. I don’t know why you are spending this time and effort on me. You could have any of a number of innocent men on this ship. Why me, a well-used whore, as you yourself have said?”

“You arouse me as no one else I’ve seen on this ship has done. And as I’ve said before, each time I fuck you, you give yourself completely. You don’t fuck like a whore. You make me happy.”

“Do you do that--the binding and the toys--with all of the young men you fuck? Did you do it with that Stuart you were with today?”

“No, on this cruise just you. They are too fresh, would be too frightened, I think. That’s why I have gravitated to you and wanted to be with you again. Sometimes I want to be particularly inventive, and I want to know that it will be with someone who won’t be damaged.”

“I’m glad then that you too are getting pleasure out of this,” Trent said.

“Will your troupe be on the next cruise on this ship?” the Brazilian asked.

“Yes, it will.” Trent went no further. On the tender back, Buzz had mentioned some plans that might keep Trent from continuing with the troop, but he had not been specific, and the idea had concerned Trent enough that he hadn’t pursued it yet.

“I will be staying on the ship too. If it pleases you and you grow tired of the quarters they give you, you may stay here with me.”

“Here, with you? Are you saying you would devote all of your attention to me?”

“I think we can make accommodations,” the Brazilian said with a smile.

“The variety you speak of needing. Are you suggesting threesomes?”

“Would you shrink from that, if I were?”

Trent paused before answering, but then he had to be honest. “No, I don’t suppose so. But my plans after this cruise aren’t settled.”

“As it happens, I wasn’t suggesting that,” the Brazilian said quietly. “I was suggesting that I am so taken with you that as long as you were with me, I would need no one else.”

Taken aback, Trent couldn’t think of anything to say to this. But he didn’t have to. Almost as if he had revealed too much of his true feelings, the Brazilian gave a little laugh, stood up from the table, and said, “My turn in the shower now.”

While he was showering, Trent moved around the cabin as if in a daze. What was he being offered? Two men seemed to be offering him more than he’d ever been offered by a man before. He found himself standing by the table. His hand brushed the camera and he picked it up and started scrolling through the photos. There were four young men in the frames, including the steward for this suite. All taken here, all provocative, naked poses. Two of the men were photographed while the Brazilian obviously was standing between their legs and fucking them. All seemed as impressed by the Brazilian’s sexual powers as Trent had been.

Could the Brazilian concentrate on just one man? For that matter, could he himself do it either? Trent realized that the question applied as much to Buzz as to the Brazilian.

The Brazilian was standing in the door of the bathroom, naked, once more in full erection. Trent trembled at the sight of the thick penis ring--and at the magnificent, mature, well-muscled body. The enticement was almost overwhelming.

It was obvious that the Brazilian had seen him scanning through the photographs.

“When all is said and done, I’m a whore because I like to be fucked by men--many men,” Trent said quietly, choosing to close down on any possibility of permanence with the man, no matter how arousing he and his sexual expertise were.

“I would not question who you fucked besides me or how often,” the Brazilian answered, refusing to let that door close. “That is the whore in you that attracts me--the freedom and exuberance to be as one with me, a fully committed lover, and yet to fuck other men too. It’s what I have always wanted for myself--perhaps until now--so I would not deny it for you. I can tell you what I think I’d be capable of doing when you were with me, but I can’t make promises any more than I would ask you to.”

Twilight was falling over the water, and the Brazilian was sitting in one of the patio chairs on the balcony, facing the white-capped waves. His cock was sheathed with a Trojan Ultra Ribbed, and Trent was sitting on it, also facing out toward the ocean. The Brazilian held the dancer close into his body with one arm encasing his belly. He held one of the egg-shaped devices in his hand that Trent had seen on the nightstand earlier.

“Have you used one of these?” the Brazilian asked. “It’s a Tenga Egg. They come in various ‘experiences.’”

“No I haven’t,” Trent answered, much of his attention going to the rib-sheathed cock buried up his channel. He was slowly rising and falling on the cock and, from time to time, rotating his hips on it. Both he and the Brazilian were panting--in the beginning stage of what both knew would end in a wild fuck.

Trent watched, in fascination, as the Brazilian peeled a strip down the side of the egg, revealing a plastic container that the older man pulled apart to reveal a soft plastic oval-shaped substance inside.

“I chose the silk one,” the Brazilian said. “It should be a sensation you haven’t enjoyed yet this evening.” He took the plastic substance out of the container and cast the container aside. There was a hole in one end of the egg-like shape from which he extracted a vial, filled with some sort of oil. He flipped the top of that off and poured oil around the rim of the opening, allowing it to seep into the hole.

While Trent watched and began to tremble, the Brazilian cast the vial away and then moved the opening to the bulb of Trent’s hard cock.

“Oh shit, oh fuck!” Trent exclaimed as the Brazilian placed the hole in the egg on the head of Trent’s bulb and pulled the substance down on the cock. It lost its egg shape as the Brazilian pulled it the full length of the encased cock and then returned to that shape as the Brazilian pulled it back to the head of Trent’s cock. Down on the cock and then back up to the head. And repeat. Trent cried out at the feel of what he could only describe as silky waves on his cock as the Brazilian pumped the pliable substance up and down on the cock, masturbating Trent with a sensual sensation the young man had never experienced before and could hardly describe.

Trent was purring and moaning and writhing within the Brazilian’s strong grip. He turned his face toward the Brazilian’s and their lips locked as the Brazilian pulled the tight, silky cylinder up and down the cock in strong, quick, relentless strokes until, with a cry, Trent ejaculated inside the egg.

The Brazilian pulled the egg off the cock, tossed it aside, pushed Trent’s torso forward so that Trent could clutch the balcony railing, as, grabbing his waist with strong hands, The Brazilian started to pull and push Trent’s channel on his own cock in a vigorous, deep-reaching, and frenzied, but not long, march to his own ejaculation.

Night had fallen and the Brazilian was guiding Trent to the cabin door. After the fuck on the balcony, the Brazilian had ordered nightcaps and a tray of sandwiches while Trent showered, and then the two of them sat and chatted about nothing in particular for an hour. It was as if they were just friends meeting at a café to catch up on each other’s life rather than cooling down from a several-hours session of the Brazilian playing Trent’s body with sexual invention.

When the conversation wore down, the Brazilian left for a brief shower and Trent dressed and sat back down at the table, When the Brazilian came out of the shower again, he just had a towel around his waist. He came up beside Trent, cupped Trent’s chin in a hand, turned his face up, and leaned down and kissed Trent on the lips.

“Thank you. Thank you for surrendering your body fully to my lusts,” he murmured.

In answer, Trent moved his hand into the opening of the towel around the Brazilian’s waist and took hold of the older man’s cock.

“Enough, I think. I have already asked too much of you. You must be exhausted, and I’m sure you’ve had more than enough of my attentions, but I have enjoyed using your body more than I can ever express. You were fresh and natural and fully responsive to the end. A great copulator--if you have such a word in English.”

“I don’t know. But I know what you are trying to say.”

“An innocence and exuberance that renews itself with each fuck. Every fuck giving the feeling of being a first one. It is a talent that I hope your profession never steals from you.”

Again he said it so matter-of-factly that Trent felt a little thrill of pleasure travel up from his toes. No one exhibited the pleasure of working a man’s body sexually as this Brazilian did. No one accepted Trent as a whore without a hint of censor as the Brazilian did. Trent was still struggling with something he could say to express his appreciation at how the Brazilian showed that he not only valued Trent’s body but also did not judge, controlled in the fuck, but not in the treatment of Trent as a human being.

He hadn’t thought of what to say, though, before he heard the Brazilian grunt and say, “But I can’t let you leave without your pay.” He walked over to the nightstand and picked up the folded bills and held them out toward Trent.

It wasn’t that, in that moment, the Brazilian was marking Trent as a whore. The Brazilian had already said enough to dispel any chance of that impression being established. It was that, in that moment, Trent realized he hadn’t done enough to let the Brazilian know what Trent felt about what the Brazilian had given to him, meant to him. And it also was in that moment that Trent knew what he could do about that.

He walked over and took the money from the Brazilian’s hand and scattered it on top of the bed--not in an angry gesture but as one of floating rose petals in front of a married couple leaving the church. With one hand he unbound the knot in the Brazilian’s towel and with the other he unzipped his own shorts and let them fall to the carpet.

The Brazilian lay on his back on the bed on the bed of twenty-dollar bills, his hands gripping the slats of the headboard overhead to steady his body, looking up into Trent’s face with a mixed aspect of surprise, wonder, amusement, and deep affection, Trent having finished lying between his legs and sucking his cock and balls until the man was hard as a rock and babbling incoherently in Portuguese. Trent straddled his hips, his hands palming the Brazilian’s heaving chest, wildly fucked himself on the Brazilian’s cock, twisting and turning and diving and rising, making as full a use of the cock ring inside his channel as he could. Riding the Brazilian hard to the older man’s last ejaculation of the evening, doing everything he could to show the Brazilian a good time, unmarked by ulterior expectation, and to signal that for this evening, it was not a john and his male whore, but two lovers fully and freely celebrating each other’s bodies and the heights of ecstasy each could take the other to.

An hour later Trent lay, alone, in Buzz’s bed in the dark of the night, not able to get to sleep. Wondering where Buzz was and who he was fucking--and admonishing himself for feeling hurt and angry about that, considering where he himself had been and what he’d been doing for hours that afternoon and evening.