Initiation

INITIATION

by

JASON LAND

PROLOGUE

This is a very long short story or a short novel. It concerns the first 22  years in the life of Liam Doyle, a young Chicagoan, who, whilst still at school and aged but 16, is initiated by his PE instructor into the world of gay-sex, in which he finds his true vocation in life. Not one word the story is true; it is all a figment of my imagination. Nor are the characters, who appear in the narrative, real, as they represent a cross-section of gay young men, all with beautiful, muscular bodies and unbelievably large endowments between their legs, the likes of which stretch the erotic imagination beyond the limits of credibility.

Liam, still a schoolboy aged 16, is himself already handsome and sexually super-well endowed, young stud, who lives in an imaginary world of beautiful young men, all of whom are dedicated to gay-sex. It is quite a long story to read at one go, but I have divided into chapters, which can be enjoyed one at a time.

This is a story of gay sex and corporal punishment and starts with the early life of Liam Doyle, the principal character, who narrates the action. All the characters appearing in the story, have mouth-wateringly superbly ripped muscular physiques and, as befits their respective roles, all are sexually extremely well-endowed; over-endowed, some might say.

Now to the story. It  is told by Liam Doyle.

CHAPTER 1.

“I was just 22 when first met him, one Friday night in early January in the Bacchus Bar, a very up-market, gay clip-joint located in a side-street on Chicago’s Near North Side, near some of the city’s most prestigious hotels. I didn’t know the guy from Adam, but the moment I clapped eyes on him, standing there at the other end of the bar, I just knew that fate had destined us to be together. Ask me not how I knew; simply accept that I did. And when he finally saw me looking at him and returned my hungry gaze, I immediately sensed that the feeling was reciprocated. By a slight, almost imperceptible motion of his head, he clearly indicated that he wanted me to follow him as he left the bar.”

But before I continue where this chance meeting led, which was to change my life completely, let me first tell you something about myself and how I became, aged 22, as I now am, a top-level, what is usually known as a male escort and disciplinarian.  For the uninitiated in the verbiage of the profession, a male escort is a man who sells himself to other men for sex, In other words in brutally plain English, I am a male prostitute, dealing in top level gay-sex. In this context I am able to charge top dollar for my services, which have resulted in me becoming reasonably wealthy and able to enjoy a comfortable life.

My name is Liam Gregory Doyle; well, to be totally accurate, what I should have said, is that Liam G. Doyle, which is how I today sign my name, is that part of my full name by which people know me. My full legal name is Liam Grzegorz Brzeszczinski Doyle. I hate to say it, but I still have difficulty in pronouncing the two consonant rich, Polish parts of my full name. Fact, as is often the case, is stranger than fiction. Unlikely as it sounds, I am the seventh child and only son of a union between a first generation, Chicago born, Polish father and an Irish Chicagoan mother. My mother’s forebears came to the USA in the mid-nineteenth century, so as an nth generation American, other than being of pure of Irish blood – nobody prior to her ever married out – she had no knowledge of what is usually known as the old country.

My father, having been born in Chicago to newly entered immigrant Poles, was saddled with all the customs of Polish life including the well-nigh unpronounceable legal name, Szczepan Grzegorz Brzeszczinski, which is what appeared on his birth certificate. For obvious reasons, throughout his life, he styled himself and people knew him as the more pronounceable Stephen Gregory Brezinski. He  was generally known as Steve but at home with his parents, my paternal grandparents, both of whom spoke only heavily accented English, he was called Shchepan, which is the nearest I can get to an English, pronounceable transliteration of his Polish first name, Szczepan. (The SZ is pronounced the SH in freSH and the CZ in as the CH in CHeese; it’s not actually quite like that; but you the idea.)

My father was a prime example of the success of the American melting pot, which made millions of first generation young men of any race, born in the USA, into all American boys. He spoke only Polish at home, but in the wide-world outside, he spoke English and was indistinguishable from any mid-western American boy.

My mother, Kathleen Mary Doyle, was a fourth generation American of pure Irish stock. How she came to meet and marry my father, by whom she had seven children, I have no idea. But they married when he was 18 and she was 16 and already pregnant. Her parents, my maternal grandparents, were both dead before she met my father. Where they first met and what possessed two people of such totally different ethnic backgrounds to marry, with only the Catholic Religion in common, I never knew. 

I guess it must have been for love, as together, they went on to produce a series of six daughters in nine years; by the time my mother was 25 she had a brood of six young girls to attend to. How she managed to bring up six small girls single-handed and how my father provided for his large family, have forever been mysteries to me. But together, they apparently made a success of their marriage. Needless to say my mother and her six daughters never learned a word of Polish; nor did I. At the insistence of my mother, whom I never knew, as she died shortly after my birth, all of us seven siblings were given a pronounceable Irish Christian name in addition to an equally Christian, but totally unpronounceable Polish first name.

Additionally, given the tongue-twisting difficulty of our father’s Polish family name, Brzeszczinski, like me, they all appended our mother’s family name, Doyle, to his surname. I understand that in their youth my six sisters were known locally as the Doyle girls. The acute reader will have noticed that I said I understand in the previous sentence. There is a reason for this, as I know little first-hand about the about the Brzeszczinski-Doyle family life, which I never had the pleasure of experiencing.

You already know that I was my parents’ seventh child and only son. But what I have not told you until now is that I was born when my mother was 45 years old: I was a menopausal accident: a change-of-life child. Of my six sisters, other than the eldest, Maureen, who had never married and kept house for her father, all of my other five sisters were married with children of their own before I was born and dispersed across the country, as is so common in ultra-mobile America. In fact, I was one of those rare boys to be born an uncle to several nephews and nieces, all of whom were older than me. As the youngest of seven children, I hardly knew my siblings, other than my eldest sister, Maureen, who was already 31 years old when I was born; and as my mother died, shortly after my birth, I really knew only my father and my eldest sister of my quite sizeable family.

Aged 22 as I now am, looking back at things; I have never really gotten to know my large, female, sibling Brzeszczinski family intimately. Apart from my father and my sister Maureen, who had not married and to whom I became the child she never had: a surrogate son rather than a brother, Maureen was the only woman I ever loved: but not the love of a brother for his sister, but rather the love of a child for its mother.

Fate was not kind to the Brzeszczinskis. My mother had already died shortly after my birth and my father died when I was only five years old, followed, a year later by both my paternal Polish grandparents. As both of my Irish maternal grandparents had died young, before my mother’s marriage to my father, I was brought up in a household of two, comprising my eldest sister and me, with no close family nearby. We lived, like many badly-educated, poor, immigrant families in a crummy house located in a distinctly undesirable, slummy neighbourhood south of the Chicago Loop.

As a child I was put through the grind of the normal compulsory American education and entered the local senior high school aged just 14. I left school aged 18 after five long years. I don’t know when I first acknowledged to myself that I was gay. But, when I was 13 and in my last year at what is known as Junior High School, knowing diddly-squat about any kind of sex, I gradually realised that I had eyes only for other boys: or more accurately put, for muscular, sexually well-endowed, young men. Oh yes, even at that age, I had already developed a fascination for big muscles and big cocks. On Saturdays I would take the bus up into the Chicago city centre area, called The Loop, where I had found a news-dealer’s shop which carried a large number of what I suppose, at the time, were considered risqué magazines: publications with photos devoted to human sexual activity in all its forms. 

Among the plethora of what are usually referred to as girly magazines, I nevertheless found a number which were devoted to, what by today’s permissive standards would be considered as soft male pornography. You know the sort of thing: magazines devoted to male fitness or what was then referred to as art photography. There were no publications publishing photos of gay men having sex with each other, or even just nude, all of which we have come to accept as normal today.  As a thirteen year old, scruffy-looking kid, big for my age, I was deeply embarrassed to be found looking at such adult stuff.  But I could not contain my curiosity – better put, my burning desire – to ogle any photos of even the semi-naked, muscular, young men I could find.  Aged only 13, I could feel my cock hardening as I mentally salivated over the soft-core pornographic photos in the magazines.

I eventually came up with an ingenious idea to allow me to browse any magazine at my leisure away from the disapproving eyes of the shop assistants. I never bought a magazine I was browsing, as I did not have the cash. When no staff member was looking, I would extract the target magazine from the rack, and take it to the part of the shop devoted to publications on the sort of subjects most boys – but not me – of my age loved to thumb through. I would then select some innocuous looking publication for boys, open it and camouflage my male sex magazine inside it. When I had finished feasting my eyes, on what by today’s standards would be considered relatively innocuous photos, I would surreptitiously return the salacious item back to its place on the rack.

I did not realise it then, but this obsession of looking at photos of semi-naked males was the first intimation to me of just how inexorably powerful and unstoppable the sex drive is, whatever its direction. I simply could not get away from the fact that I liked looking at naked, muscular male figures.

It was when, aged 14, I entered the local Senior High School, that my own sexual orientation really became clear. As a city centre school, we had no playing fields and were deprived of playing football. Our sporting efforts were restricted to basket ball which was played in the school’s capacious, but down-at-the-heel gym. The school, like many others in similar, run-down, depressed, low-income areas of the eastern industrial cities of the USA, was staffed by a rag-bag of teachers both male and female, most of whom should not have been in a job like teaching, which requires a great deal of vocational commitment to be successful.

Most of them were nine-to-five types, whose only motivation was the wage cheque at the end of each month. The combination of apathetic teachers and, sad to say, equally apathetic pupils – most of whom, including me, did not wish to learn anything – led to my school holding an all-time record in Chicago. A few years previously, not one single pupil, male or female, leaving school in grade 12, had gone on to college.

This ramshackle organisation was presided over by a died-in-the-wool, sadistic principal called Homer Vollands, whose main contribution to the life of the school, as far as I could see, was to paddle the asses of his male pupils. This he referred to as teaching a lesson to those unfortunate enough to be sent to see him in his office. For my sins, both real and imaginary I was many times the unfortunate beneficiary, if that is not a contradiction in words, of his teaching efforts with the painful paddle.

The only positive thing one could say about him was that he paddled his victims on the seat of their pants and not on their bare asses. As he taught no subject in class himself, this was the only teaching he ever did; he had made paddling ass his vocation, in as much as he had one. However, one could not fault him for the remarkable efficiency and regularity which he dedicated to the accomplishment this task. This was his only direct contact, both literally and figuratively, with the pupils, as he depended upon his staff to refer suitable candidates for the paddle to him. This they did with a sadistic alacrity, verging on bloodthirstiness. 

Hardly a day went by, but what some poor sods found themselves in line outside his office, waiting to be called in and be told to bend across a table, when Homer did his barbarous best to teach the victim a lesson. And, when I say victim, the word is well chosen, for very often the reason for which lads were being paddled in no way justified its use. We were all being abused by the over-zealous use of corporal punishment by a sadistic principal. We all suffered this regular, physical assault on our asses without a murmur, as there was no one to whom we could complain.

CHAPTER 2.

The one bright light, for me at least, was when, in my second year at the school, a new PE teacher was appointed: a Cuban American, who, judging from his looks appeared to be of pure Spanish descent. His name was Paco Obregon: Francisco Alejandro Santiago de Obregon Serrano. With a name as long as my own full name, but more easily pronounced, he was a physically stunning and sinfully handsome stud. He was only in his early twenties, five or six years older than me, when he joined the school teaching staff; but he looked much younger and could have been taken for an 18 year old 12th grader himself.

Aged 15 as I was at the time of his arrival, just looking at him, brought home to me, for the first time, that my youthful fixation with looking at physically beautiful men was not a passing phenomenon, but had already become an important and permanent factor in my life. I sensed my cock, that ever present, uncontrollable and faithful gauge of a guy’s sexual arousal, getting hard just looking at this guy.

I am not at all sure how we came to know him among ourselves as Paco, which is the Spanish nickname for Francisco; but we certainly did not call him that to his face. In spite of his gorgeous looks and smiling appearance, he was an absolute stickler for formality in a way which goes against every young American boy’s grain. He insisted on being called Sir by all his pupils and addressed not as Mr. Obregon but as Mr. de Obregon. One of my classmates, of distant Mexican origin, pointed out to me that the particle de before his paternal surname indicated that he had his roots in an upper-class, Cuban family. If this was true, how he came to be working in a rundown school like ours was a mystery.

However, we all soon learned that he was not to be messed with, as he had no hesitation in dispensing bare-ass paddlings to any student, who deserved it; and there were plenty of lads of all ages, including me, who left his office after one of his paddling sessions, massaging their stinging buttocks. Paco was the only teacher, apart from the principal, to use the paddle; but use it he did; and regularly.

But his physical assault on his pupils did not end there; during PE gym classes, he always had a belt looped around the wrist of his right-hand, with which he gave anyone he thought was slacking a quick swat across the ass through his gym shorts.  But in spite of this vicious streak, he was popular and well-like among the boys. At least he was alive in a forest of dead wood!

As I said, I was aged 15 when Paco arrived on the scene and just the sight of him, immediately raised my blood pressure to bursting. I could not keep my eyes of him when he was in the gym class. As instructor, when in class, he wore, like the rest of us; just a vest and shorts, so that we his students could not help but admire his well define, bronzed muscles, which, frankly, were really something and were obviously the result of hours of hard work.

But I found my eyes were inevitably focused on his crotch, which, given the tightness of the shorts he habitually wore, bulged attractively, indicating the sizeable weapon he obviously packed between his legs. Unknown to him, he became to me the role model of how I wanted myself to look;  so much so, that without any special encouragement from him, I began working out in the gym in my spare time in an attempt to develop my body to look like his.

I had the good fortune to be blessed by nature and was the proud possessor of what, by any standard, was a quite exceptional penis. My dick was not only big for a lad of my age, but had that rubbery quality, which gave it what I can but describe as a presence, even when it was flaccid.  By presence, I mean that it descended, when soft, in what I considered was a beautiful curve over my balls which were held close to my body and never dangled. My most precious possession never looked like a looked like a wrung-out dish rag even when it was well-behaved and hanging docilely between my legs. When it was erect and ready for service, the combination of a rigid, ten-inch – I kid you not – dead-straight rod over a pair of well-defined high-held balls, resembled a field canon on its wheels, ready to be fired, as, in future – not to anticipate events – it often was.

I had, like most American males of my generation, been circumcised at birth. Whatever surgeon had done the job had obviously had an aesthetic eye for the future appearance of the male organ he was butchering and had done an excellent job. Not one scrap of foreskin remained to detract from the bulbous glans of my cockhead, which was set off from a dead-straight shaft by a well defined corona or rim, giving my member, when erect, a menacingly purposive appearance.

My penis. my pride and joy, my dick, cock, tool, man-meat, fuck-stick, call it what you will, although I had not yet ever fucked anybody , grew enormously between the ages of 15 and 16 and was the object of much admiration tinged with envy from my classmates in the showers after gym classes. With no exaggeration, by the time I was sixteen, my cock had attained a flaccid length of seven inches, expanding to an impressive ten-inches when stiff. I, confess, I was inordinately proud of my endowment.

At the age of 16 and still a total virgin, I had recognised and made peace with myself that I was not like my male classmates and that I was a latent homosexual. It was uniquely towards other males that I was attracted, a fact I had known since I was thirteen. But with the hormones coursing through my body, I became ever more aware of my desire to lose my virginity than I had ever been; but the big question was when and with whom. I am not boasting, when I push false modesty aside, and tell you that at age 16, I was an extremely attractive looking guy.

As a result, until they realised that I was not sexually interested in women, my female classmates flirted with me, as they did with the rest of us guys. However, I was quickly discounted as being good for a quick shag, as they soon saw that I was not interested in their all-too-apparent, sexual overtures. Many of the girls in my class seemed to be willing to make themselves sexually available to any young guy; but being what I am, I was not in the slightest interested in any form of sex with a girl. This was not the case with most of my male classmates, many of whom exercised their burgeoning libidos on any girl who would let them; and many did, resulting in a number of unwanted pregnancies of uncertain male parenthood, due to the promiscuousness of our some of our female classmates. 

I guess I was a lone, non-practising gay among a class of guys, all of whom were straight. Certainly, as far as I could see, I had no male classmates of my sexual orientation. Living alone, in a ratty run-down house with my maiden sister as I did, I felt rather lonely. If I say I was a lone gay, the truth of the matter is, to coin a phrase that I was a sort of gay in waiting as I had strictly no sexual experience or gay friends at all. My only active sexual activity was masturbation. I regularly jerked myself off, as I imagined did all young men of my age, whatever their sexual orientation. There are just some moments, which, with me, grew ever more frequent with time, when I simply could not escape from the urge for sexual relief, which jerking off brings, even if you are alone, as I always was,. So I did not even share the pleasure of joint jerking session with guys of my own age, whatever their sexual orientation. 

The fact of the matter was that I, a handsome, sexually well equipped guy of 16, had kept my sexual desires so buttoned up that I found it impossible to meet other gay guys; to tell the truth, I had not even the foggiest idea of how to go about meeting anyone of my own sexual orientation.  My own erotic thoughts were just that: erotic thoughts; sex was all in my mind; there was no action. When I saw, or rather heard, what other guys in my class were boasting about doing with girls, it was enough to drive a guy like me nuts with sheer frustration at my lonesome lot. However when relief finally arrived and the miracle happened to relieve me of my loneliness and, more importantly my virginity, it was completely unexpected and exceeded my wildest dreams.

CHAPTER 3.

I have already mentioned my fascination and visual fixation on the hidden crotch of our new PE instructor, Paco Obregon: Sir, as we all always thought of him. In common with quite a few of my classmates, I had already paid a few unpleasantly painful visits to Sir’s office, where he had paddled me on my bare ass for some piffling offence or other. As I told you, he was very strict and whenever you were with him, it was like walking on eggs. He did not tolerate anything which he considered bad behaviour from any of us. As time passed we all came to see that he seized upon the slightest fault and personally took great pleasure in paddling boys’ bare asses. 

What normally happened was that the offender would have already been singled out for his offence in the gym. Then in the showers, he would be told get dressed and present himself at the PE instructor’s office, which was conveniently located next to the shower room. There, he would be ordered to drop his pants, bend across a table and Sir would paddle his bare ass. We finally decided that this sexy looking man was a bit of a sadist; a guy who got a kick out of whacking boy’s asses, an act which he performed regularly and at which he was, judging from my own few experiences with him, an undoubted expert. I had already experienced him a few times; but suddenly, one day when I had just turned 16, it was different.

I have told you that I was intent on developing my body, to which end I took every opportunity to work out in the gym outside of the normal PE classes.  I guess I was unique among my male classmates in my desire for physical self-development, as I was always alone in the gym. And so it was, late one Friday afternoon that having worked out in the gym after close of classes for the weekend, which was at 3 pm on Fridays, I found myself alone in the showers, relaxing under the  flow of the warm water, after my strenuous, muscle-building labours.

Quite suddenly I was brought back from my day-dreaming under the shower by the sound of the angry, raised voice of Sir, which said: “Doyle, how many times have I told you not to dawdle under the showers when you are alone as you are now obviously doing?” Although his assertion was correct, as I was taking my time enjoying the relaxation which standing under a shower of hot water always brings, as far as I was aware the answer to his question was a point blank, never. But he was clearly out for blood: my blood, as he continued in the same tone of voice: “Doyle get yourself out of there immediately; dry yourself off and come with me to my office.” 

Sir continued to stand in the doorway of the shower room watching me dry myself. However, when I made as if to go to the changing room, accessible by a communicating door with the shower room, to put my clothes back on, Sir said: “That will do Doyle; no need to get dressed; you will do absolute fine as you are. Come with me to my office as you need to be taught a lesson that I mean what I say when I give an order.”

This was obviously not a good moment to argue with him and so stark naked as I was, I silently followed him down the short length of corridor to his office. The dreaded paddle was already lying on the table, across which I knew, from my past visits to his office, I would shortly be stretched waiting for a rather painful, ass warming experience, which in this case, I did not deserve. But in the face of a determined and obviously angry higher authority, even though I knew I had right on my side, I had no option but to grin and bear the onslaught which was coming. There are times when discretion really is the better part of valour; and this was on of them. I could see that Sir had got the bit between his teeth and that my ass was already toast.

“You know the drill, Doyle, as you have become quite a regular here. Jump to it boy; get yourself across the table and let’s get on with it.”

As I stood there in front of the table preparing to offer him my ass to butcher, I noticed that he had installed opposite the table, a large wall mirror, in which I saw, for the very first time ever, a full-frontal view of myself stark naked. My endowment being its normal, completely uncontrollable self, I was sporting an enormous erection, ferociously menacing in its directness. As I have already told you, at age 16, my cock was already and impressive sight. Seven inches long when flaccid, it was now a rock-hard ten-inches, pulsating in all its glory, rigidly ready at an angle to my body demanding the action which it was not about to get; action which it had never got in spite of its all too frequent pleadings.

I can tell you that seeing a full frontal view myself, for the first time ever: seeing myself as someone else sees me, was quite an eye-opener for me; but it was, nevertheless a highly embarrassing experience to be seen by Sir, in flagrante as it were, with my cock showing its indomitable independence so blatantly. My obvious libido was pleading stridently to be satisfied; in vain, or so I thought. But as events turned out, as they so often do, I was completely wrong.

“Yes, I knew the drill, only too well.” I thought, as I stretched myself across the table, gripped the far edge, closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and waited for the offensive on my ass to begin. It was not long in coming; and when it did, I realised, after one swat of the paddle which landed on my left buttock with a resounding clap, that Sir, was on top of his form. Five swats later, when Sir finally flung down the paddle, I was in a state of shock. The pain he had managed to deliver to my bare ass with just six strokes of his paddle, had left me in excruciating agony, the like of which I had never before experienced.  But, evidently, it was not yet over, as when I made as if to stand up from the table, Sir, said: “Stay where you are, Liam, I have not finished with you yet.”

At the sound of my first name, Liam, which was said in a completely different, less hectoring tone of voice then he had hitherto used, my ears pricked up. Sir was a stickler for formality; much more so than any of the other teachers. He never addressed any of us by our first names, as the other teachers, including the principal, universally did, but always, in his upper-class manner, by our surnames. Thus, to hear myself called Liam rather than Doyle, told me immediately that something had changed; but I had no idea what. And, quite frankly, not in anyone’s wildest dreams could one have imagined what now happened – I was going to say – before my very eyes.

However, face downwards, prone across the table as I was, the more exact expression would have been: before my very ass, as this part of my anatomy was pointing directly at Sir. But as one’s ass does not have eyes, a characteristic that it shares with the back of one’s head, what I am now about to recount to you, I saw reflected in the large wall mirror before me, from the horizontal, prostrate position in which I still found myself. What followed must go down in the annals of homosexual copulation as one of the most unique first-fucks ever. Certainly, it answered the question I had often asked myself as I ogled Sir’s impressive bulge in his skimpy shorts in the gymnasium: “Was sir gay? The answer was a resounding yes.”

The first intimation that I was not to be allowed to escape immediately to try to sooth the raging pain in my ass was when I heard Sir go across to the door and turn the key in the lock. Then to my utter amazement, in the mirror, I watched him strip himself naked. He had been wearing a pair of jogging sweatpants rather than the shorts he usually wore during gym classes together with a sleeveless gym vest, which clung to his muscular torso. As I watched, with mounting incredulity, he took off his last item of clothing, a pair of very brief underpants, exposing for the first time, the very object which had perpetually aroused my curiosity and which I had long desperately wanted to see: his cock!

Liberated from the tight confines of his underpants, his penis emerged already stiffly erect and ready for action. As it stood proudly to attention, silently calling to be admired, I was gratified to see that although Sir possessed an attractively big dick, it was not quite as long, or of as great in girth, as mine. Nevertheless, by any standards, it was a formidable weapon, as I was soon to experience for myself.

As I watched Sir prepare himself for sex, locked in his office together, as we were, I recognised that my anus, being the only possible target available at that moment for Sir’s rampant penis, I was about to lose my anal virginity to this gorgeous man, who had, exaggeratedly speaking, just beaten to pulp, the very ass he was now preparing to fuck. As he continued to prepare his erect member for the act, I watched him get a packet, which even naïve as I was, I recognised from the colour as containing a Trojan Magnum condom and a tube, of what I later learned was a water-based lubricant, specially designed for anal sex with rubber condoms.

I watched in the mirror, fascinated, as Sir, rolled the condom onto his rampant fuck-stick and proceeded to apply a generous quantity of lubricant to its full length, before liberally anointing my hole with more of the same. In my naïve ignorance, I had not realised that the male surrogate rectum, unlike a woman’s vagina, not being intended by nature to be invaded by another man’s penis, needed adequate lubrication to render the unnatural act, as the act of anal, sexual intercourse  between two males is often described, both easy to accomplish and enjoyable for both participants. I waited with baited breath for the unnatural act to which my ass was shortly to be subjected, to begin, not then realising that, in the near future, it would rapidly to become as natural to me as taking a breath,

There was something surrealistic about the way, in complete silence, that Sir prepared both his cock and my anus for sex. It was almost as if he was giving a demonstration of how things should be done to a beginner; which I, in fact, was. I have no idea whether or not he knew that he was about to fuck a virgin. As the fatidic moment of first penetration of my anus approached, I felt a shiver of pleasure tinged with a touch of apprehension course through my veins, as I prepared myself for what was to be my first sexual experience: my first time, as it is usually put. I knew enough to see that the moment Sir’s cock stretched my anal sphincters and slid itself inside me, I would never be the same again. Once surrendered, my virginity would be gone forever, never to be regained.

I admit that I was vaguely nervous as I saw in the mirror Sir’s frighteningly massive, condom-clad tool approach my awaiting anus. I suppose in legal terms, I was about to be raped, as Sir had not asked my consent to fuck me.  But never was a lamb more easily led to the slaughter than I was that day, as I allowed Sir to stretch and penetrate my anus with his magnificent penis, without either of us ever uttering a word; consent was neither requested nor given, nor indeed necessary was we both knew that we wanted sex; Paco to fuck me and me to be fucked by him. It was almost as if we were making a silent video-clip together, entitled: A Beginners Guide to Non-Consensual Ass-Fucking. 

The moment the tip of Sir’s rock-hard fuck-stick touched my port of entry, I felt my anal sphincter muscles tighten instinctively to repel what they perceived to be a foreign invader. But the resistance was short lived; as I forced myself to relax and allow Sir to slide himself inside me and by that simple act of penetration, relieve me forever of my anal virginity. It was a pivotally unique moment for me: one which that day had been totally unexpected; but for which I had long wished and which changed me forever.

Sir gave me the full length of his penis in one smooth, unhesitating thrust: the thrust of an experienced operator. Thanks to his generous, pre-penetration lubrication of both himself and me, as he slid past what I imagine must have been my prostate, I felt only the slightest pain, which vanished within seconds. He bottomed his pelvis against my ass, to maximise his cock penetration of my rectum and then held himself motionless in place, deep inside me, for a full minute before making any further move, as if allowing me to accustom myself to sharing my innermost sanctum with someone else.

As a curious gay in waiting, a condition in which I had long endured in a state of suspended anticipation, I had, like all lasciviously curious, prurient schoolboys, attempted to inform myself about gay-sex by consulting that modern, electronic encyclopaedia of all knowledge: the Internet.  Not being able to afford a computer myself, I had profited from the school’s computer classes to surreptitiously explore some of the hundreds – if not thousands – of the most salaciously explicit, hardcore, male, porn sites, accessible at the touch of a finger.

There I watched with awe the way the majority of active partners – by active partner, I mean the one who was doing the fucking; the top, as I later learned he was usually called – went hell for leather at his partner’s ass, thrusting with his cock as if there was to be no tomorrow. This seemingly standard performance normally ended by him withdrawing his dick from his partner, when both of them proceeded manually jerked themselves off to a climax, splattering each other with their jism at their individual moments of orgasm, which only rarely seemed to occur at the same time.

In the event, surrendering my anal virginity to Sir was not remotely like any sex I had seen on the Internet. After his initial penetration of my anus, following what seemed to me an eternity, Sir eventually began, at first very gently, to start the reciprocating movement, which is the very essence of sexual intercourse, thrusting more or less the full length of his sizeable cock in and out of my hole.  Absent were the entirely were the smash, bang, wallop techniques of the protagonists of pretty well every porn video I had ever seen. I should tell you that what little I knew of anal sex, I had gleaned from watching porn videos and that I had never had the opportunity of seeing two guys having live sex together.

Initially, Sir made haste slowly and withdrew himself almost completely at every stroke, giving me practically the full length of his rock-hard fuck-stick at every thrust. As he progressed, he built up not only the power but also the speed of each thrust. Eventually, evidently overcome himself by the mounting passion induced by what he was doing, he could not stop himself giving way to the demands of his libido. As he banged away ever more vigorously at my ass, still with the same long strokes, I sensed from his ever increasing vigour that he was about to climax inside me. When it finally came, it was with an enormous thrust of his rock-hard member, which he buried deep inside me, as he ejaculated his sperm into the rubber he was wearing, in a series of violent orgasmic spurts, accompanied by grunts of satisfaction: the first words he had said, since he had told me to stay where I was after he had finished paddling my butt.

After a brief pause for breath with his cock still hard inside me, he said: “Stay exactly as you are, Liam, and let me take you to completion.”  I should tell you that my cock, which was hanging erect below the table and pointing down at the floor, was, thanks to Sir’s efforts, already oozing precum like a leaking tap. It did not take Sir long to take me all the way to my own orgasm, which was accompanied by the almost explosive ejaculation of great gobbets of my sperm onto the floor between my bare feet. The moment when I shot my load was the completion of the first true orgasm of my life induced by someone else other than by my own jerking off.

The orgasm, which Sir had, by his vigorous efforts, induced in me, was incomparably more intense than any of the many I had experienced by jerking myself off, almost on a daily basis, over the past two years   Sir had, by his efforts alone, transported me to that mythical place called seventh heaven, where I wallowed, for that fleeting, exquisite moment of utter contentment which an orgasm produced by anal sexual intercourse with another man, alone brings.

If the price I had to pay for such a divinely intense and satisfying experience was a bare-assed paddling from Sir, then it was one I was prepared to pay every time. I cannot describe how totally enriched in myself I felt after having my anal virginity taken by Sir. But I also realised that in surrendering myself to Sir, I had, quite by chance, allowed an undoubted expert cocksman to fuck me.

Credit for my present euphoric state was due to Sir alone, who was totally and utterly responsible for giving me the first, but also the most sublime introduction to hitherto future sex-life.  It was to prove an excellent introduction into what was soon to become my all abiding passion: gay-sex; a pleasure, of which I was never to tire, no matter how often I indulged myself; which, as you will learn later, was pretty often.

After he had finished fucking me, Sir allowed himself more or less to fall on my back. I felt his torso – his pectoral and stomach muscles, dripping with sweat – glued to my back, with his cock still embedded deep inside me.  I can tell you it was for me a sublime two minutes, as I experienced, for the first time ever, such intimate contact with the naked body of another man; I understood, for the first time, how two separate people could feel as one together. And then, quite suddenly, Sir heaved himself up back into the standing position; I thought for a moment that he about to fuck me for a second time, but he said:  “On your feet, Liam; let’s get a shower and then, I’ll treat you to a pizza by way of compensation for the over-hard paddling which I gave you earlier.”

 I could not believe my ears. Sir, was about to fulfil one of my most earnest wishes, which I had shared with the majority of my male classmates, which was to shower together with us after a gym class. This was a wish, which until now, had never been satisfied. Now here was I, Liam Doyle, about to take a shower, with this superbly muscled young stud, long the object of my secret sexual desire as the guy to whom I had wanted to lose my virginity. And to top it all, he had quasi apologised for giving me an over-the-top paddling and had offered to buy me pizza as a sort of peace offering, As we stood there together under the splashing hot water – the showers were deserted at this hour – I took my first real look at the man to whom I had just surrendered my ass: the man to whom I had surrendered my anal virginity.

I had ogled him many times in his gym strip during PE classes, but now seeing him totally naked, I was truly realising my burning desire. Looking at Sir beneath the splashing water of the shower, I saw, in him, everything I had ever dreamed of becoming myself:  a muscular young man, with a magnificent physique and the owner of the magnificent penis, which I had just taken up my ass. Like mine, his cock, freed from the confines of the Trojan, was now flaccid and falling gracefully over his balls. I observed that, also like mine, it had been expertly cut, but that Sir was devoid of the mass of heavy, unattractive pubic hair. He had evidently shaved it off, thereby visually considerably enhanced his already attractive sex organs.

I was utterly entranced by what I was seeing. However, the visual attraction of his naked, muscular body quickly proved too strong for me to resist. I could not stop myself dropping to my knees in front of him, where, in an act of what can but be described as lèse-majesté, I took Sir’s penis into my mouth and started sucking him off.  I don’t know how that timid, inexperienced person, who I was at the time, could ever have dared to commit such an act. However, propelled by that ungovernable, completely irresistible force of sexual desire, I did just that: I initiated what was my first act of gay-sex as prime mover, without giving any thought to the potential consequences of my action. I was not rebuffed by Sir, who, quite to the contrary, assisted my efforts by initiating me into the technique of face-fucking.

What had commenced as a simple act, which later I came to know was called fellatio, was transformed by Sir into my first introduction to the serious oral sex-act of face-fucking. Sir thrust his swiftly re-hardening member in and out of my mouth. Between us, we managed to quickly bring Sir to an orgasm, during which he explosively ejaculated his second copious emission of sperm, part of which I gratefully swallowed and part of which he splattered over my face.

By now, my own cock was rock-hard again and clamouring for its place in the sun. I found myself unable to resist the strident demands of my imperious libido and so, abandoning Sir’s cock, I stood up and under the running water, spun him around and before he could protest, thrust my penis, which had by now performed that miracle and had transformed itself from a floppy, sausage-like appendage, into a magnificent ten-inch fuck-stick, which I was now pressing against Sir’s anus without actually penetrating him.

That was how my first attempt at the act of anal intercourse ever as the active partner occurred.  It was not to prove totally successful however, for before I could penetrate him, I was cut short in my desire to fuck Sir. Totally new and unprepared for anal sex and without any lubrication as I was, Sir, being highly experienced, stopped me in my tracks by saying: “Liam, take a rain-check on what you want to do to me, which I also want as much as you do; but right now is neither the time or place. Come on, Liam, let’s get dressed and go and have that pizza I promised you.”

I confess I was disappointed that my first attempt at anal sex as a top (an expression which I learned later was what the guy exercising is cock on another guy’s anus is usually called) had been cut short before it had really begun. But I fully understood the reason why, as Sir made clear to me in his car, in no uncertain terms, as we drove to the pizza place.

“Liam, don’t get me wrong: I fully understand that under the circumstances your desire to fuck me became uncontrollable, especially after what has just passed between us.  I have no personal objection to being fucked, especially by a young guy with a dick as big and attractive as yours; but in the interests of hygiene I would prefer you to use a Trojan and you to lubricate your fuck-stick. Young guys like us, cannot be too careful into whom we stick our dicks. Remember the HIV virus is still around; so better safe than sorry. And another thing, Liam, when we are together on occasions such as this, you can drop stop calling me the Sir and call me Paco, which is my nickname, as I think you and your classmates know already.”

I had hung onto his every word and my heart had jumped for joy when I heard the words: on occasions such as this, which implied that what we had just done together was not to be just a one-off event. Jumping ahead in my narrative, being taken under Paco’s wing, was to change my entire life, as will become clear later. Inevitably, whilst we were eating, I could not but pour my innermost secrets out to Paco.  He was totally incredulous to learn that in fucking me, he had just had the privilege of robbing me of my anal virginity.

“You mean to tell me, Liam, that a guy of your age and with your assets – and I flatter you not, young man. for your assets are truly astonishing – had never had sex before tonight? You amaze me, Liam.  I had no idea when I fucked you that it was to be your first time. But now that you have laid your cards on the table, let me do the same. What I am about to tell you is something of which I am pretty sure you were unaware. I had long noticed in PE classes that your eyes never left me when we were in the gym; and I saw that very often they were focussed on my crotch, which sort indicated that you were sexually interested in me. What you did not know was that I was as fixated on you as a potential fuck, just as much as you obviously fancied me.”

“I humbly confess that I had never told you before, not to dawdle in the shower when you were alone; it was a white lie: merely a ruse to get you into my office, naked as you were. But once I got you there, there I could not resist in indulging myself in my second perversion, which is thrashing a young man’s butt with a paddle, prior to having sex with him.  And in case you are not aware of it, Liam, you can take it from me, that you do have a very beautiful ass, both to paddle as well as for the other more enjoyable purpose for you; at least, I hope that you enjoyed what I did to you have after the paddling.”

“So, Liam, from the bottom of my heart, I now apologise profoundly to you, for having gone over the top with the paddle and caused you so much pain, which you really did not deserve. Frankly, I feel ashamed of myself for the way in which I treated you, which was purely as a self-centred means to have sex with you. I almost just said seduced you; but seduction is not really the right word to describe what I did to you, which, frankly, was more akin to rape. In much the same way, as you were unable to control your urge to suck my dick and fuck me in the showers just now, after I had done paddling you, I simply could not resist shafting you.”

“But when I saw you observing my reflection in the mirror, getting myself ready for sex, as you could clearly see what was coming and posed no objections, I just went ahead and fucked your ass. And let me tell you, Liam, and I am not saying this to make you feel good about yourself, but you are one hell of a fine fuck. I was about to say that you probably knew that already; however, in view of what you have just told me about your sex-life to date – or rather the total lack of it – you cannot be aware of just what a good bottom you are to the cock of an experience top partner such as me. Liam, you are an absolute pleasure to fuck and you can take it as gospel that you are one of the greatest fucks, if not the greatest, I have ever had. Believe me; I do know what I am talking about. Liam, you are a sensationally good fuck.”

This was praise indeed coming from someone whom I admired and who, from my first sexual experience ever, had come across to me, by the sheer assurance with which he had shafted me, as a guy highly experienced in the art of anal copulation. I had taken no part in what had just happened, other than to supply the hole into which he had stuck his boner.  But as I was to learn later, there are holes and holes and evidently mine was rather special. Anyway, mystified as I was by his comment, I was delighted that he had enjoyed fucking me as much as I had enjoyed being fucked by him him; all in all, losing my anal virginity to Paco had been a much awaited, revelatory and exhilarating experience, which I fervently hoped would not be a one-off; I mean being fucked again by Paco, for I had forever lost my virginity with that first fuck. In fact, jumping ahead in my story, I did not have to wait long at all for a repeat performance.

Paco continued: “Liam, I think you knew that I intended to have sex with you, once you were inside my office and saw me lock the door. As you showed no physical resistance or even said anything at all about what you could see what I was about to do to you I went ahead and did the deed. I think I assumed correctly that you were OK with what I was doing. Even when push finally came to shove and the tip of my cock was about to penetrate you, you made no attempt, either verbal or physical, to stop me.  I therefore assumed that you were in complete agreement with what I was doing to you. What I did not know until you told me just now, was that I was about to penetrate the anus of a virgin young man. Come on, Liam eat up and let’s make tracks as I have a lot I would like to teach you before the night is out.”

My heart jumped for joy on hearing what he had just said. My instruction in the art of anal sex was obviously not over for the evening. I confirmed to him that I was completely OK with what he had done to me sexually after the paddling and that I accepted his apology. 

I said directly to him: “ You know, Paco, you are quite right, I did have my eyes fixed on you during PE lessons; but with you being a master and me being a pupil, I had no idea how I could ever realise my burning desire to have sex with you. But I had no idea until you told me just now that you had the same feelings about me as I had about you.  Paco, God alone knows how I could ever have thought that you, my school PE instructor, would be the very person to relieve me of the cross of my virginity which I was bearing, when I myself was too timid even to admit to anyone of my own age that I was gay.” 

“Paco, until you penetrated me just now, I had no idea that you were gay yourself; it really was all in my mind that I might have sex with you, as I admired your body and cock. How could I even think that it was ever going to happen? But it did!  If the price I had to pay to be fucked by you was the really painful paddling, then it was a price well worth paying.  But I have to tell you that not having any prior experience, I enjoyed being fucked by you as much as you tell me you enjoyed fucking me. But when it comes to paddling – or more precisely put – to being paddled, I can tell you from my considerable personal experience that you are as good with the paddle as you are with your dick.”

CHAPTER 4. 

As we let the Pizza Parlour, thinking back on what I had just said to Paco, I don’t know how I had dared to be so frank with him; at the end of the day, was still my PE teacher. But we had just had sex together and that had changed everything. Back in his car, when I asked him where we were going, he told me we were going back to his place to continue with my instruction in the art of gay-sex. His place turned out to be a spacious penthouse: a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment with a private, un-overlooked roof-terrace, in a high quality residential block located in one of those side streets off the east side of North Michigan Avenue,  just below the Drake Hotel.

I was gobsmacked as I saw for the first time in my life what to me was luxury living. When compared to the crummy, little house, in which I lived with my sister on the south side of the city, Paco’s place seemed the height of sophistication, the likes of which I had never even before seen, let alone been into. It did cross my mind to ask myself how Paco, a PE teacher, pulling down a modest salary in a run-down, senior high-school on the south side of the city, managed to pay for such a place.

But if gobsmacked described my first reaction to Paco’s apartment, I was utterly flabbergasted by what happened next as Paco called out: “Hi Darren, I’m home at last; come into the living room, as there is someone I want you to meet.” I don’t know why, but I had, for no good reason, always thought of Paco as living alone; but evidently there was already a man in his life, who apparently lived with him.  But nothing prepared me for the jolt of adrenaline which flashed through my system as Darren entered the room from the roof terrace, where judging from his almost naked state, he had been enjoying the late afternoon sun; Darren was a sinfully handsome, black African-American!

The intimate relationship between Paco and Darren was made instantly clear, for as soon as he appeared, Paco immediately advanced on him, embraced him warmly like a long lost friend and gave him a long kiss on the mouth, which Darren returned warmly. So there I had it; Paco, whom I had just learned was gay, was living with a guy who was black.  From the affectionate way they had just greeted each other, it was obvious that they were living together as an item.

Analysing my feeling as a result of what I had just seen, I recognised that I had no reason to be disappointed. I had secretly developed a crush on Paco, as boys of my age frequently do on an older figure that they admire and wish to emulate.  I had seen – in fact, I still saw – Paco as role model for the sort of way I would like myself to look when I reached his age, which could not have been more than 22 or 23.

He had just initiated me into one aspect of gay-sex, for which I would be ever grateful. So what right did I have to begrudge him his live-in-lover? But however I tried to convince myself to the contrary, I knew that I had become jealous of Darren from the moment I saw Paco embracing him.  He had, in my mind, usurped the place that I, quite ridiculously, with no justification other than one fuck, had fancifully seen myself filling.

“Come in Darren, I want you to meet someone; this young man is called Liam Doyle; he’s a student of mine, whom I have sort of taken temporarily under my wing. And this, Liam, is the love of my life, Darren Joshua.  Now, Darren, I should tell you that Liam is of the same sexual persuasion as us; but aged only 16, he is just setting off on his life’s sexual journey.  So I thought that as two old hands at the game as we both are, we might give him a helping hand and a few pointers, so to speak, to get him well and truly initiated on the road to an active sex life, which, as you and I know well, is the only way to true happiness for guys like us.”

Paco, I thought, was nothing if direct; in an honest and guileless way, he called a spade a spade. However, in so doing he had dashed my own utterly fatuous hopes to the ground; but, more importantly, he subtly made Darren realise that I, the attractive new boy on the block, was not a threat to their relationship, which, as I was later to learn, was rock-solid. Darren and I greeted one another rather coolly and shook hands. I tried to make my handshake as warm as I could, but we both somehow managed to transmit to each other that slight feeling of wariness, which, under the circumstances of our meeting, was quite understandable.

Even as the youngest of the three, I was as tall as the other two, but who, both older than me as they were, were both physically much better muscled. It is amazing how a much a guy’s physique changes between the ages of 16 and 18. Just looking at Darren, whose age I had put at 18 or 19 – or 20 tops – he was, in terms of muscles, twice the guy I was.

I had the advantage over him, in that I was dressed and he had appeared almost naked from the terrace. I found, in spite of my disappointment, that true to form, I was admiring the extremely handsome, muscular, sexy looking stud that Darren truly was. In spite of my first negative reaction on realising that he, a black American was having it off with a white man, I could feel my initial jealousy already ebbing away, as my eyes descended, as gay eyes always ultimately do, to the cannon that he was packing between his legs in a pair of tight-fitting posers. I have to say, looking at the generous size of his bulge, I was mightily impressed.

But then, would a stud with the credentials and penis power of Paco ever have shacked up with an under-endowed guy?  I found myself impatient to see what Darren’s posers were ultimately hiding, as I was curious about the size of his weapon. I knew when it came to cock size that I had pipped Paco at the post, both in terms of length and girth. But I had a horrible feeling that I would find myself running second to Darren: hopefully a close second; but second nevertheless.

I did not have to wait long to have my curiosity about Darren’s cock to be satisfied with a vengeance. To my amazement, standing there before him, Darren suddenly reached for the hem of my T shirt and in one swift move pulled it off over my head.  To help in him in his task, I obliged him by unbuckling my belt; whereupon he pulled down the zip on my pants, allowing them to pool around my feet. As I had not put on any underpants when I dressed after the shower with Paco, I stood before Darren completely naked.  My cock, sensing, as it always did, when action, in which it might participate, was on hand, had already started on its upward journey, indicating its willingness to play ball, which, in the past, in spite of its constant urging, had never happened. Darren smiled broadly displaying his perfect teeth, surveyed the eager piece of man-meat in front of him. Then, as if not to be outdone by the ten-inch erection before his eyes, he dropped his own posing briefs, giving me my first sight of his own magnificent penis.

Now my own dick, my sexual pride and joy, hitherto unshared, other than visually, with any other guy, was excessively large for my age. Over the last year it had grown like Topsy; now aged 16, I was sporting a good seven inches when soft, expanding enormously to an impressively solidly girthed, ten, rock-hard inches when, like an impatient dog, raring to be taken for a walk in search of a bitch on heat, it sensed potential action. Standing there naked, facing Darren, my fuck-stick radiated optimism. And with good reason; for this was only the second occasion in its life when its hopes that the prospect of action had more than that proverbial cat in hell’s chance of being of being realised; and for the second time in a few hours.

But facing Darren as I was, I saw that he too was not immune from the effects of sexual attraction. It is a widely touted fallacy that all black men have bigger phalluses than their white counterparts. Some do and some don’t; however, looking at Darren I saw that he was one that did. My own dick, which had risen anticipatively to its impatiently rampant ten-inches, was overshadowed by the magnificent piece of man-meat that Darren was pointing at me. There is big and big; but what Darren had just revealed was seriously BIG. Erect and ready for service as it now was, it must have been at least 12 inches long and with a well-balanced girth. Like me Darren had been well circumcised exposing his gleaming knob, which I saw was already oozing the first drops of precum at the prospect of pleasures to come. I confess, I was on a knife’s edge, as I waited to see what the next move would be.

It was not long in coming, as Darren put his hands on my shoulders and forced me gently to my knees. Then instead of offering me his dick to suck, he began to slap each side of my face in quick succession on each side with his twelve inch boner.  I was in absolute heaven, as he gently slapped my two cheeks with his penis, until the moment finally arrived when I could stand the tension of the build up no longer.  I cupped his balls in my hand and started to work his dick with my mouth. I quickly succeeded in bringing Darren to his climax, just as I had done with Paco under the shower at school, barely two hours ago. He climaxed in a flood of sperm, which he uncontrollably jerked out in a series of powerful spurts all over my face and into my mouth. It was an absolutely heavenly moment for me.

By now my own cock was imploring me to put it out of its misery and finally let it see some action. So, I stood up, spun Darren around just as I had done with Paco under the shower and prepared to shaft him. And as I had been then, I was again stopped in my tracks by Paco, who had kept his eye on what Darren and I were doing together.

We had been so preoccupied with each other that I confess I had not given any thought to Paco, the arch-organiser and de facto pater familias of the present occasion. Whilst we had been doing our thing, he too had shed his clothing and was now standing there, with his cock menacingly hard and ready for action, waiting to enter the fray.

Ever the teacher, he said: “Well I am pleased that you two guys seem to be getting along like a house on fire. But before things get out of hand with the euphoria which inevitably accompanies occasions such as this, may I draw your attention to the golden rule that all parties in my house, whether top or bottom to anal sex, use a lubricated condom?” With that mild admonition, he handed each of us a Trojan Magnum condom.  As I rolled the rubber onto my own cock and lubricated it, I saw that Paco, true to his principles, had prepared his cock for action and was already wearing a Trojan, which he had already lubricated and was obviously raring to go himself.

As it was a warm summer evening, Paco had suggested that we all move onto the terrace. It was there, al fresco that I had my first true fuck as a top with Darren; an act which, in the next few years, was to come to dominate my life. If any guy had told me that this life-changing first step would be with an African American, I would have told him that he was nuts. But fact is is often stranger than fiction and it was with the gorgeously attractive, Darren, lying on his back on a leather covered couch, with me kneeling in front of him, holding his legs firmly against my body, one each side of my head, that I first introduced my penis to the joys of anal sex.

Whilst I was in the middle of fucking Darren, I suddenly found Paco was kneeling between by legs on the couch, obviously intent on shafting me yet again. And as I felt him press the head of his cock against my anus, my sphincter muscles tightened spontaneously to repel all boarders as it were. Of course they were fighting a losing battle against a rock-hard weapon wielded by an expert marksman; they quickly yielded to Paco’s massive piece of rigid man-meat seeking entry. That is how, for the second time in two hours that Paco again fucked my ass. And as he subsequently told me, it was precisely the automatic resistance of my anal sphincters, which quite involuntarily tensed during the entire time he was inside me, which differentiated me from most other guys and made me such a fine fuck, as he had put it earlier.

So I found myself simultaneously fucking Darren whilst at the same time having my own ass fucked by Paco. It was a unique experience for the maiden outing of my own dick. Paco, realising that in shafting me, he was interfering in what he knew was my first fuck ever, so like the true pro he was, he allowed me to dictate the rhythm of our three-man union and followed my rhythm with Darren with his own thrusts up my ass.

It was an amazing experience for me. Here I was having my first fuck ever, with my cock thrust up Darren’s ass, to find that my own ass was being simultaneously assaulted – in a friendly way – by the man to whom I had willingly just surrendered my anal virginity. So my first time sexual experience as a top, which I guess is usually on a one-to-one basis, had been turned into a no-holds-barred, three-man-fuck. It was quite surreal; but I absolutely adored it!

I was grateful to Paco for having, by example, introduced me to what I will call the long stroke technique, which I was to adopt regularly in what was soon to become my very active sex life. As I have already said, I had watched innumerable porn videos of gay-sex –  guys fucking guys –  on the internet but never, until Paco gave me my first fuck, had I seen anyone use such long strokes as he used on me. Of course, he had the cock length to do it, as also did both Darren and I. Nor had I seen anyone adopt the gentle way in which he had begun, gradually increasing both the force and speed of his long thrusts, before reached his climax inside me. 

This was also something I had never seen in any of the internet porn videos. What usually happened was that the top guy went at the double with his cock at his partner’s ass and then, before either of them was remotely near near climaxing, withdrew his dick, subsequent to which, both of them violently jerked themselves off manually and showered each other with their sperm, often in the face and mouth, As far as I could see, there was no mutuality in the physical contacts between the protagonists to any of the acts; it was always every man for himself. When the bottom had been penetrated and was being fucked by his top partner, he inevitably seemed always to be jerk himself vigorously off.

Of course, I knew that such porn videos were staged and aimed at titillating the senses of the viewers and did not reflect real-life sex encounters such as the one in which we three were presently engaged. To be fair to the guys who scratch a living in the porn video business, most of them are not blessed with such massive sex tools as Paco, Darren and me. So we three were in an enviably privileged position when it came to fucking; our attributes allowed us to do things, which are physically beyond the reach of the average guy.

But to return to what was happening back at the ranch, I was thrusting my dick ever more forcefully into Darren. As this was my maiden attempt at anal sex, I reached my own climax over-quickly as I simply could hold myself back no longer. In fact, I had been so sexually psyched up that I had been almost on the verge of orgasm before I actually penetrated Darren. When it came, sooner than I would have liked, my generous, uncontrolled emission was accompanied by a series of violent jerks, which shook my whole body, breaking the regular stroke rhythm, which, until that moment, I had managed to hold. Paco showed his sensitivity by stopping his pumping of my ass to permit me to enjoy my very first orgasm as a top, as I was forced briefly to pause in my own efforts to bring Darren to his climax.

However, as soon as I was able to control myself again, I took up where I had left off; Paco, like the seasoned copulator he clearly was, re-assumed my rhythm and I was able to take Darren through to his own orgasm without the need for him to work his own cock manually. As Darren shot his load into the rubber he was wearing, Paco was still pumping like hell at my ass. If you can believe it, he succeeded in the unachievable, by taking me to my second orgasm within a few minutes of my first. At the same moment as he himself climaxed inside me I shot my second load within a few minutes, deep inside of Darren.

That was how I, on my maiden venture into gay-sex, during which I sacrificed my active and passive virginity to two different guys, was privileged to experience the incredible feeling of the simultaneous orgasm with my idol, Paco: a concept of which I had never even heard until I experienced its magic. When the fucker and the fucked achieve the quasi impossible and reach that pinnacle of sexual experience, which is to achieve orgasm together at precisely the same moment, believe me, it is an utterly mind-blowing experience; the intensity of that exquisite, feeling, though fleeting, is totally unbelievable.

I doubt that any young man anywhere had ever enjoyed such a unique introduction into the art of gay-sex, as the one I had just undergone. The boost in my self-confidence was enormous. I had, in the space of some two to three hours, been transformed from a timid 16-year-old virgin into a confident young man raring to exercise his libido on all comers.  Just think about it: I had had my own butt fucked twice and been brought to orgasm by Paco, the very guy, for whom I had lusted for over a year. Then he had taken me and thrown me into the arms of his own lover, Darren, on whom I had been allowed to exercise my own cock for the first time, thereby relinquishing completely the last vestige of my virginity.

Moreover, I had managed, in my maiden fuck, to bring Darren to climax without him ever touching his own cock.  In baptising my dick in the name of the God Priapus in Darren’s anus, I had now royally experienced the three basic acts of gay-sex: anal fucking, both actively and passively, and oral sex.  I had achieved, quite unexpectedly my dearest wish to enter the world of gay-sex as an active participant, which I had known for several years was the key to my long-term happiness. It is, therefore, not surprising that I felt on top of the world as the three of us paused for a moment and took a breath after our three-man, mini sex-orgy.

As I looked at Paco and Darren, two magnificent specimens of naked, young, manhood in front of me, I vowed silently to myself that I would continue with the gym training that I had already begun off my own bat and that I would develop my body to be the equal of theirs by the time I left school in two years’ time aged 18. As far as my man-meat was concerned, there would be no problem there. Nature had been very generous with me; aged only 16, I was already fielding a seven inch flaccid dick, rising to a 10 inch boner of substantial girth, which I knew was the envy and admiration of all my class-mates at school. Moreover, I had seen that my cock was already bigger than Paco’s. Looking at Darren, I was less certain that I would ever equal his 9 inches of soft man-meat. One thing was certain; I really liked muscular guys with big cocks.

I had really no idea where we were going from here. But just observing Darren, who was pointing his 12 inch boner in my direction, one did not need to be a genius to see what he was thinking and that the evening was far from being over.  I have to say that the thought of taking Darren’s 12 inches up my ass did give me a slight feeling of anxiety.  I had had similar qualms when I saw Paco’s nine inches bearing down on my anus: a frightening sight to a beginner like me. But I had gone on and surrendered my anal virginity to Paco’s cock without any problems. However, Darren was packing another three inches, and the thought of taking his twelve inch erection up my ass was and intimidating prospect.

CHAPTER 5.

Nothing had yet been proposed as to how the evening was to continue. However, Paco, playing perfectly the pater familias figure, jumped quickly to the rescue: “Darren, what you do not know, is that our friend Liam, in spite of his generous equipment, had until two hours ago, when he allowed me to relieve him of his anal virginity, been hiding his light under a bushel.  What you did not know was that in allowing him to exercise his dick on your ass, you gave him his first opportunity to taste the delights as the active partner in gay-sex.” 

“What you have just experienced, Darren, was Liam’s first fuck ever; that was a virgin cock you just took up your ass. So Darren you and I together have just had the joint privilege of relieving Liam of his virginity, allowing him to taste, for the first time, the delights of anal sex, both as a top and a bottom. Now I can see from the aggressive state of your dick, that you are still aroused and wanting to exercise your quid pro quo rights on Liam’s ass.”

Turning to Liam, Paco said: “Liam, I can see from the expression on your face that the prospect of taking Darren’s magnificent, but formidable pole up your ass is, at first sight, a daunting prospect. Anyway, what I want to say to you is that now you have been introduced to the pleasures of gay-sex, you should allow Darren to exercise himself on you, just as he allowed you to exercise yourself on him. Look, Liam, Darren and I have been together for three years and I can tell you that in spite of his size, he is a basically a very gentle and considerate lover. I often allow him access to my anus just as he allows me access to his and I can tell you, you have nothing to fear but fear itself in giving Darren a return bout. You may well find that the results are surprising as Darren is a very competent cocksman.”

What else could I do after such eloquence, but allow Darren to fuck me?  We were all still sitting chewing the fat on the terrace recovering from our earlier exertions; sex is quite hard work and can make you sweat. However, I noticed that all three of us were still rock-hard; so obviously we were all still psyched and ready to continue. Paco, anxious to get the show back onto the road, was as efficient as ever and handed out fresh Trojans, which we all donned. I wondered what role Paco intended to play in the next phase of my initiation. He too had rolled on a rubber and was clearly intent in participating in the next stage.  What had, by now, become obvious to me was that the evening would not end with Darren fucking me; this was destined to be an evening of non-stop sex among the three of us.

Darren pulled me to my feet and led me again towards the couch, on which he had just lain whilst I initiated my cock into the irrefutable pleasures of anal sex in his hole.  He stood close behind me, put his arms around my chest and kissed the back of my neck. I felt his enormous erection sandwiched between his abdomen and my back, He then gently forced me to my knees on the couch into what is known as the doggy position and placed a pillow on which I could rest my head comfortably whilst he ministered to the needs of my ass. The fact that he had embraced me and kissed the back of my neck had a miraculous effect on me as I lost all my earlier fear of taking such a huge piece of man-meat inside myself.  I suppose I rationalised that I too had a sizeable cock – ten-inches when hard – which which Darren had accepted without question.

I found the instant animosity that I had irrationally felt towards Darren when I first learned that he and Paco, the sex idol of my nascent sex-life, were living together as an item, had now completely vanished. I was at complete peace with myself as I felt Darren lubricate my port of entry and then kneel down behind me between my legs, which he had spread before penetrating me. I confess that when the tip of his hard meat touched my anus, a momentary shiver of fear ran down my spine. My anal sphincters automatically tightened to resist his cock; but he gently overcame that initial resistance and slid the full twelve inches of his fuck-stick deep inside me.

As Paco had said, Darren, in in spite of his enormous endowment, was gentleness personified as he began slowly to fuck me. Schooled, I imagine, by Paco, he gave me practically his full length at every stroke, the power of which I could feel. I suddenly realised that I was enjoying being dominated by such a superb young man.

I then began to see why Paco had called me one hell of a fine fuck. I naturally and involuntarily flexed my anal sphincters at each forward cock thrust by Darren, posing additional resistance to him, but also greater sensation for both of us. In fact, in gripping his cock with my anal muscles, I was making Darren work harder for his ultimate prize: to reach his climax inside me; and when it came, it was electrifying. Darren had so increased the power and speed of his thrusts as he strove to reach his own climax that he had brought me also to the edge of my own orgasm. When the climax finally occurred, with one final powerful thrust from Darren, we both simultaneously exploded into enormous ejaculations of sperm. So I had a unique and very rare experience of being brought to simultaneous orgasm by only the second sex partner of my life. 

This was something I had never seen in any of my many visits to the porn sites on the Internet.  It was a divine experience for me – for both of us, in fact. Our two bodies, glued together in a final impromptu embrace – Darren had fallen on my back – jerked violently as each of us shot our wad and enjoyed that brief sublime moment called orgasm. What I had not seen, crouched in the doggy position as I was, was that Paco had shafted Darren whilst Darren was engaged with my ass, in the same way that he had shafted me a little while earlier as I was surrendering the last vestige of my virginity in fucking Darren’s ass.

Disengaging myself from Darren, I rolled over onto my back and was treated to the live spectacle, for the first time in my life, of two young men, Paco and Darren, in the powerful throes of anal sex, with Paco fucking Darren as if there was to be no tomorrow.

I have no clear recollection of what happened after that; ask me not, who did what to whom. All I can remember is that the three of each satiated our sexual desires in an orgy of non-stop anal and oral sex. I had an absolute ball! I was around eleven when we finally stopped. All of us were completely exhausted; as I was learning, sex is hard-work.

Paco drove me home to the squalid place where I lived with my sister. I had long dreamed of the day when I would finally lose my virginity to another man; but I had not foreseen the way it had happened. I doubt that anyone had ever had a more pleasurable and thorough introduction to the pleasures of gay-sex than I had just had.  My sister had already gone to bed by the time I arrived; so I did not have to face a cross-interrogation from her; you know; the whole enchilada; why was I so late, where had I  been and what had I had been doing?

CHAPTER 6. 

I awoke next morning, after a night’s deep sleep, a different man, which, of course I was.  What Paco and Darren had shown me had given me confidence to face my future as a gay young man. They had removed an uncertainty from my mind; I was now a confirmed and potentially active gay. As the saying as it: I was as happy as a pig in muck. I considered my position with my sister and decided that as I had now tasted the pleasure of gay-sex that as it would play a major part role in my life from now on, I might as well burn my boats and tell her everything. I knew after my first taste of sex, which would certainly not be the last, that I could not keep my future sexual activities forever under wraps from my sister; she had to learn sometime that her only brother was a homosexual; so why not now?

Her knowing would change nothing regarding my future sex life, as I knew already knew that my strong sexual urges would have to be satisfied; they could not be ignored. But as Maureen was the only family I had ever known, I thought of her and loved her as mother rather than a sister and the very last thing I wanted in the world was to hurt her and alienate myself from he.  We both would have to come to terms with a very delicate situation if I was to continue living with her.

I had lost my virginity on a Friday evening. I was late getting up that morning as it was Saturday and I had no school.  When I finally got downstairs, my sister was already drinking her coffee at the kitchen table.  I sat down down opposite her; we said a haltingly circumspect good morning to each other and she poured me a cup of coffee. I looked her square in the face, plucked up what was left of my fast disappearing courage and said: “Maureen I think I should tell you about why I was late coming in last night. I hope you were not worried and I feel awful about not having told you that I might be late home. I think there is something about me that you should know. You see, Maureen, it’s like this and I know it will come as a shock to you; but your only brother is a homosexual.”

There it was; I had said it; so now she knew my long-kept secret; I had no idea what her reaction to this astounding – at least as I saw it at the time – piece of news. Maureen looked at me and smiled and said: “And what else is new, Liam? I was wondering when you were going to get around to telling me something I’ve known since you were only 13. Liam, you have only ever had eyes for other boys; so when did you make this momentous discovery yourself?” Her words had completely taken the wind out of my sales and for a few seconds, I floundered, wondering what to say next. Maureen my maiden – well so I had always thought – eldest sister, continued: “So Liam, I imagine that last night you were cavorting – if that is the appropriate word – with some boys of the same sexual persuasion as yourself. Well, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later and you are certainly big and well developed for your age and capable of looking after yourself; so why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Please, Maureen, please, it’s all too embarrassing to go into right now.” But she was persistent and over the course of the next hour, my sister, my surrogate mother, teased out of me, as I guess all mothers do, the essential details of what had happened the previous evening.

I did manage to omit the goriest details of what the three of us had done together, but by the time I had finished, Maureen knew that I had crossed the line of no-return and had sex with two guys. I omitted the fact that one of my partners was a teacher at the high-school I was attending. After I was through with my explanation, feeling highly embarrassed, I meekly ventured: “Maureen, are you disgusted with me and going to throw me out?”

She laughed, and said: “Liam stop asking such stupid questions: I am neither disgusted with you, nor do I have any intention of throwing you out. We are all what we are and others must either take us as such or reject us; I have no intention of rejecting you because you are gay; I think that is the term used for homosexual men. Liam, I have known for years that you were homosexual; I wish you weren’t; but as I cannot change it, I must live with it; as, Liam, also must you. Your sexual persuasion puts you in a minority in the heterosexual world in which we live. I regret to say, as you will find out the first time someone calls you a pervert – believe me, Liam, it will happen – as in spite of the legal acceptance of people like you, you will suffer from a lot of social resistance and disdain, especially from so-called God fearing people.” 

“I have enough experience of life to know that neither I, nor anyone else for that matter, can ever change your sexuality. What you did last night, was inevitable; it had to happen sometime. Moreover, although you are only 16 and I am legally your guardian until you reach the age of 18, I shall not try to stop you doing what your nature impels you to do. You were born that way and nothing I or anyone else can say or do will change that. The only thing I would ask of you is that you do not practise your sexual activities in this house. Meet your partners, whoever they are and do whatever you do together, somewhere else but here; do it with my blessing, but don’t do it in this house; do it somewhere else.”

“Liam, you and I are the only true family we two have got. You barely know your other sisters and their families, and I too have seen them only rarely – if indeed at all – these past few years, as they all live elsewhere in the US. Although you have a large family, it is as if they did not exist. Liam, I am the only family you have ever known, and I have come to see and love you as the son I never had, rather than a brother. I have looked after you since the day your mother – our mother – died when you were still a babe in arms and I am not prepared to throw all that away just because my only brother turns out to be gay. So be happy with your new-found self; and above all be careful, now that you have come out, as believe the current expression is.”

I could not believe that things had gone so swimmingly with my sister.  Remember, she was the first born of six sisters and that her mother had been only 16 years old when she was born. Maureen had been 31 at the time of my birth, making her a good generation older than me; she was now 47 years old.  I marvelled at the worldly wisdom which my middle-aged, uneducated, working-class sister had shown and thanked a God, in whom I did not believe, that I had such an understanding mother-figure in her, who had taken my revelation in her stride. I was relieved that we were still friends; more than friends in fact, as we were like mother and son to each other. 

As I explained to her, I had not really come out, as she had put it, as that implied telling the world that I had been a practising gay in hiding and had finally decided to acknowledge the fact. All I had done was to have sex with two guys on one evening. But she was right when she said that neither she nor anyone else would divert me from my chosen path. I had every intention of continuing and expanding my gay horizons from what, by any standards, had been a resounding introduction to the delights of gay-sex.

I would have hated to have been forced to leave Maureen; but, in my heart, I knew full well that if push had come to shove, and I had been forced to make a choice between abandoning my nascent sex life or staying with Maureen, my sex life would have won. I had been a gay-in-waiting for so long that now I had been initiated into the pleasures of anal gay-sex – was there any other kind?  – I could no more renounce my future sex life than I could fly to the moon. Happily, push had not come to shove, nor jumping ahead of myself, did it ever.

CHAPTER 7.

Happy in the knowledge that my sister, if not exactly rejoicing at my revelation that her brother was a homosexual, had at least given me her blessing to pursue my life as I saw it. I pondered on what the future would hold for me now that I had been freed from the shackles of my virginity by Paco and Darren. I asked myself if the evening I spent in their company being initiated into the joys of gay-sex, was a one-off occasion: just a fortunate happenstance, because I had lingered in the shower the previous Friday evening.

But when I recalled that Paco had told me he considered me one of the finest fucks ever, I lived in hope that what had unexpectedly taken place between Paco and me in his office and subsequently consolidated by Darren and him in his apartment, might be the beginning of a long friendship. I had been sorely disappointed when I learned that Paco and Darren were living together as an item and I knew now that I could never be more than a friend; albeit an intimate friend, to them; but just a friend nevertheless.

But now it was Monday morning in school and when I crossed Paco in the corridor, he barely gave me a glance.  He continued to maintain his teacher-pupil attitude in PE classes all week.  My hopes had almost been dashed to the ground by his apparent indifference towards me, when late on Friday afternoon, when I was again alone in the shower, having worked out in the gym after close of class, he called me to his office and said: “Liam, if you are free his evening, Darren and I wondered if you would like to come to the apartment and have a meal with us.  If you are, then I could pick you up at around 5 pm at the corner – he named a location near the school – to avoid unwanted curiosity.”

Was I free? Did he need to ask? Of course I was. I gave an internal sigh of relief to learn that my worst fears that I had been abandoned by Paco and Darren, that my initiation into gay-sex had been just a one-night stand, had not been realised. I had been on tenterhooks all week. As a newly minted gay guy, I was already suffering from severe withdrawal symptoms as I had had no opportunity to fuck anyone since my initiation last Friday night. In sheer desperation, my five fingered lover, to which I had finally resorted, had proved a feeble substitute for the real thing, which once tasted, I had seen was infinitely preferable to jerking oneself off solo. But what else could I do? Let’s face it, it I knew no one, except Paco and Darren with whom I could have the sex, for which I had been craving all week, which forced me into an orgy of lonely masturbation each night. 

When the invitation came, it was like manna from heaven for me; as if I had suddenly been liberated from my chains. And as you will shortly learn, it was to prove the jumping off point to a full and satisfying sex life for me during my final two years at the senior high-school. Remember that I was, at the time, only 16 years old and a minor. As such, although I had reached the age of consent, I could not legally frequent gay clubs. Bizarrely, in Chicago although I could marry and have children aged 16 (witness my own mother) with parental consent, I could neither work in nor be served as a customer in a bar selling alcohol until I was 21.

Friday night came not a moment too soon for me. Friday had been one of those scorching hot humid summer days, which give Chicago, known as the windy city, a subsidiary reputation as being, temperature-wise, either nought or ninety: either freezing cold or boiling hot. Today had been one of those typical, unbearably hot and humid days. But by some quirk in the weather pattern, towards five in the afternoon, an unexpected, gentle, easterly breeze from across Lake Michigan had cleared the city of its oppressive humid torpor. 

When Paco and I arrived at the apartment, Darren was already lounging around naked in all his glory on the roof terrace. And make no mistake, Darren naked, was visually a gloriously impressive and sexy young man; especially to someone like me, who had eyes only for men. I could barely wait to discard my own clothing and get down to an evening of sex with the two of them. Just looking at the recumbent Darren, my cock, as ever impatient for action, was already rising to the occasion.

As Paco and I stripped off, Darren heaved himself up and went into the kitchen to fetch some cold beer. By this time, my dick was rock-hard and so raring to go that I could barely restrain myself from grabbing Darren and shafting him there and then.  But I was saved from my worst impulse as the door-bell rang. Paco, by this time totally naked, with no apparent embarrassment, went and opened it to allow three young men, obviously expected, each carrying a huge pizza, to enter.  It was then that it hit me; we were to be six for the evening’s pursuits.

Paco welcomed the new arrivals: “Hi, guys, come in; put the food down in the kitchen and let me introduce you to Liam Doyle, the quite exceptional new boy on the block, so to speak.”

Standing there starkers, already sporting an impressively hard boner, being confronted by three strangers, I suppose I should have felt embarrassed – which I found I did not –.  I shook hands with the three newcomers, who, I learned, were called Alan, Carl and Kyle. All were clearly regular visitors to Paco’s apartment, as they were not at all fazed and showed not the slightest surprise to be greeted by three young men, one of whom  me, they did not know, but who were already naked and obviously preparing themselves for an evening of sex.

It was Kyle – Kyle Peter Prescott as I later learned was his full name – with his eyes focussed unblinkingly on my cock, which was directing its come-hither look, pointing invitingly directly at him, who said admiringly: “Well Paco, you really do have knack of picking winners.” And then, addressing me directly he said: “Liam, you certainly seem to have what it takes! Welcome to the fold.”

I don’t know why, but as the youngest and certainly sexually the most inexperienced guy present, Kyle’s remark gave my confidence an enormous boost. As the clear outsider, the newcomer, into a group of five young studs, who obviously knew – in every sense of the word – each other well, I felt that I was welcome, which was enormously reassuring. The shrinking violet syndrome, which had hitherto completely inhibited my sex-life, until, just one week ago to the day, I had been taken in hand, first by Paco and then by Darren, was gone forever. And as the new boy on the block, in more ways than the three new arrivals could have imagined, I found myself eagerly looking forward to taking an active part in an evening of six-man gay-sex.

Paco interrupted my thoughts: “When you guys have finished admiring and drooling over Liam’s massive dick, I suggest that you make yourselves more comfortable and that we all move onto the terrace and eat the pizzas before they get cold. Then we can get down to an evening doing what I know we are all looking forward to.”

Alan, Carl and Kyle went into one of the bedrooms where they dumped their clothes, to reappear a few moments later completely naked.  I was relieved to see that although the three of them were all somewhat older than me, they were not more than 19 or 20 at the outside. They were all, like Paco and Darren, well muscled young studs with big cocks, who obviously worked out regularly. But I was overjoyed with pride to see that apart from Darren, the only black guy present, I had the biggest and most impressive cock among us.

You cannot imagine – well probably you can – the boost to my moral, which came from the realisation that I, the youngest guy present, had the biggest and most impressive penis among all of five us whites. Just looking at the five of them made me even more determined to develop my body into the understated, muscular powerhouse possessed by each of my present companions. Paco, Darren, Alan, Carl and Kyle were all visually stunning, sexually highly attractive young men. I could barely wait to have sex with all of them; and I guess it showed, as my cock was dripping precum like it was going out of style.

We all trooped onto the terrace, which had several low couches and an outdoor shower, none of which I had not noticed the first time I was there as my mind had been on other things. Jumping ahead of myself, as ever, I can assure you the shower was needed to wash away the sweat and sperm of six guys, which, in spite of the strict condom rule which Paco dictated, was everywhere by the time we had finished exercising ourselves on each other. Frankly I could have passed the beer and pizza, as my cock was urging me, as it always did, to get started on the serious stuff right away. But as I was the new boy  I was forced to wait until we had all finished eating our pizza and drinking our beer before we got down to the sweaty task of buggering each other.

I had guessed from the warm way the three newcomers had been greeted by Paco and Darren that the five of them were all regular communicants. But Paco, as the de-facto leader of the group called the opening shots of the evening, which was, for me one glorious, non-stop orgy of anal sex, the likes of which I had never seen in any of the internet porn videos; and, believe me when I say that I had seen plenty.

True to his beliefs, Paco began by distributing Trojans to each of, which we all, under his eagle eye, assiduously donned. We then helped each other lubricate our anuses, after which the activities I had been eagerly awaiting began. No one questioned Paco’s position as Master of Ceremonies, a position, as the obvious eldest among us, he automatically assumed; and anyway, it was his apartment. It was only then that I learned that this was not just a onetime evening of gay-sex between friends to which I had been invited, but that I had been invited by Paco specifically to invite me to join an exclusive little club.

CHAPTER 8. 

Like any other club, there was an initiation ceremony for newcomers, to which I now learned that I was now to be subjected. As if it was a marriage ceremony which was about to be performed, Paco said somewhat portentously:  “Gentlemen, we are gathered here tonight to initiate a young new member, Liam, into our unique little organisation. Liam will be our youngest member, but as you will all no doubt have observed he does have the necessary physical attributes attributes to qualify. And as Darren and I can testify, he knows how to use his quite exceptional endowment, both actively and passively. However, as the three of you have never met Liam until now, in keeping with our rules, it is right and proper that you all be given the opportunity to actively examine his credentials yourselves.”

Paco turned towards me: “Liam, you are being invited to join an exclusive, small club of gay young men, like yourself, and I have to ask ask you formally if you are willing to undergo the initiation  process which goes with this honour.  Allow me to allay any fears you might have that our initiation ritual involves the painful paddling of your ass, which many college fraternities practise widely in this country when they initiate newcomers.  So I have to ask you formally if you are willing to submit your body to our initiation ritual, which is an obligatory requirement for admission to our little club to which all new members must submit themselves. I should tell you that there are also four other members of the club, who could not be here tonight. You, Liam, will be our tenth and youngest member.  We have decided to invite you to join, age just 16 in view your exceptional physical attributes, which Darren and I already know from personal experience that you you know how to use to the pleasure of all concerned.”

What could I say but yes. I desperately wanted to widen my sexual circle to include other guys, as after only one evening’s experience of its pleasures, I was completely sold on gay-sex. When I had arrived at Paco’s apartment, I had seen this evening as a repeat of last Friday’s session I had had with Paco and Darren. And then, when the other three guys arrived, I had figuratively jumped for joy, thinking that I would have the opportunity to have sex with three new guys, widening, as it were, my horizons.  But in my mind it was still just a one off occasion, getting to know three new guys.

Now things had changed radically and I was being invited to join an exclusive, small club, which would give me regular access to nine guys. How could I refuse such an enticing invitation? Under the aegis of Paco Obregon, my sex life was developing at an unbelievable rate of knots. Even if joining the club had meant that I would have to submit to a painful paddling, I would have said yes to it. The thought of belonging to a club of ten sexually active guys was just too good an offer to turn down, whatever the conditions.

I have to say that my curiosity was aroused as to exactly what the initiation ritual would involve; that it would be sexual, I had no doubt. But nothing had prepared me for what happened next, which turned out to be one of the most enjoyable episodes in my newly commenced sex-life.

Paco and Darren gently forced me to bend across a table, hold my legs apart and expose my anal pucker to the assembled company. I felt insistent fingers applying lubricant to my hole, confirming, if confirmation was necessary, the self-evident fact that I was about to be fucked. But what happened next was totally unexpected by me. One by one, in turn, each of the other five guys, Paco and Darren included, fucked me. When I say fucked, it was, in fact, a series of five token shaftings, as each of the three guys gave me only six thrusts of his dick before yielding my anus to one of his companions. 

By the time they had finished reaming out my ass, I had had my anal muscles stretched, in quick succession, by five different pieces of man-meat, of which, incomparably the best, was Darren’s. In view of the limited time each guy spent in communion with my ass, neither they nor I they reached any form of sexual climax. It really was just a ritual step to confirm my unspoken acceptance of the fact that being accepted into the club, my ass was available to all members without exception.

Yes, I can already hear the cynical thoughts of some readers, that I was being naïve; that I, an attractive 16 year-old schoolboy, was being taken for a ride as by a group of older more experienced men, who saw me as a toy-boy: someone they could fuck whenever they fancied. But such thoughts could not have been further from the truth,

I quickly learned that my initiation into the circle, the equivalent of the Knights of the Round Table, as I ultimately came to think of them, was not yet complete.  The next step banished forever any thought that I might just be being used as a toy-boy.

I found myself lifted up from the table, over which I had been bent and was amaze to see Alan, Carl and Kyle, adopt the selfsame position I had just relinquished. On a glance from Paco, I watched, fascinated, as Darren performed the same lubrication ritual on the three of them as I had just undergone myself. It was only then that it registered with me that this preparation was for my benefit and that I was now expected to show the three newcomers my paces.

Paco said quietly to me: “There you go, Liam; as Darren and I already know what you are capable of, it remains for you to show the other three that you are more than worthy of joining us as full member of the club.  So, go to it, young man; it’s up to you to show them that you know what’s what when it comes to cocksmanship. You must give each one of them six quick thrusts of your cock, much as they did to you.”

“But there is a twist; the rules of initiation require you to take one of these guys through to completion; it can be any of the three; it’s your call.  My advice is to you is to give each one the initial six thrusts and then decide which of the three you will honour with your full maiden fuck. As I told you, there are are fucks and fucks and you personally are for me one of the best fucks, both as a bottom and as a top, I have ever had myself. It’s entirely up to you, Liam, to choose the guy who best suits you.”

It was a glorious occasion for me, aged but 16 and still at school, to be accepted by five muscular, sexually highly-experienced studs, all a bit older than me.  At that moment, in spite of the fact that I was a relatively inexperienced beginner, I can tell you I truly felt that not only had I arrived, but, more importantly, that I had been accepted, into the fold as a full member if an exclusive sex club.  It was totally unbelievable for me, a school boy, who had just a week ago had been a virgin to sex.

As I prepared to play my part, looking down with pride upon my incontestably, stunningly massive erection, I thought to myself that there are some moments when size really is important and this is one of them. My cock was behaving as it always did when it sensed sex was in the offing. With that uncontrollable mind of its own that every man’s meat has, my cock was already straining like a dog on a leash, begging to be let loose and find the bitch on heat which he has just smelled.

Since I was about 14 years old and the sex hormones had begun course seriously through my veins, my cock, at even the slightest visual sexual stimulation on my part, had unfailingly prepared itself for duty, with a diligent assiduity verging on the obsessive. Along with most other young males, I had often been embarrassed by my inability to tame my own man-meat, which had a mind of its own, making it truly worthy of the epithet: man’s incontrollable flesh. Along with many other sexually heavily-endowed boys, I had frequently found it difficult to conceal my obvious, visual readiness for sex trumpeted by my boner.

Until last Friday, when I had finally achieved my dream and lost my virginity to Paco, I had always been obliged to keep tight rein on my cock, which although it regularly, often embarrassingly, declared itself ready for action, I had never allowed achieve its manifest aim. But this evening was different; with the immediate prospect of penetrating three willing anuses in quick succession, my cock was finally to be allowed to achieve its long denied ambition; it was about to be allowed to have its day in the sun. As if it was aware that the momentous moment had finally come, it had put on its best face ever. Aged only 16, I was already inordinately proud of the size of my erection, which I had precisely measured at ten inches. But as I prepared myself to penetrate Alan, the first of my three immediate partners, I could have sworn that my cock had gained another inch at the delightful prospect of not one, but three willing anuses facing it.

Anyway, enough of my philosophising and referring to my totally uncontrollable dick as if it were a free agent, which, of course, it is not! I went ahead and, in quick succession, gave Alan, Carl and Kyle, their token six thrusts with my trusty cannon. Now not wishing to harp on the fact that I was really a neophyte to gay-sex, I have to say that even I, inexperienced as I was, saw what Paco had been getting at when he had described me as one of the best fucks ever. The difference among the three young men when bottoming, as they now were for me, was remarkable.

Alan posed no resistance at all to being penetrated; he was soft and relaxed and was what I suppose an experienced professional such as Paco would call an easy fuck Even I, an utter beginner and no connoisseur of asses – let’s face it; I had had serious sex previously with only Paco and Darren; and that on only one occasion – found him far too soft: an easy touch, far too welcoming to a cock he did not know. However, both Carl and Kyle were both made of sterner stuff. Carl made a valiant attempt at exerting his authority as a bottom, gripping my cock as I entered him; but although he made some effort to keep it up, he then relaxed completely and left me to my own devices with my thrusts.

Kyle, however, was a quite different kettle of fish. I suppose he was more like I had automatically been when Paco had penetrated me. As a bottom, he actively participated in the sex act; he gripped my cock with his anal sphincters from the moment I entered him until the moment when, after six thrusts, I withdrew. I guess it was this little initiation scene with three guys that first showed me the distinguishing features of what Paco referred to as a great fuck;  It was a no-brainer;  I, of course, chose Kyle to be my maiden partner.

Alan and Carl stood up from over the table over which Kyle remained bent and joined Paco and Darren as observers, while I prepared myself to penetrate Kyle for the second time in a few minutes. But as this time, I had made it my secret point of honour to do my best to take Kyle through to his climax without recourse to him manually masturbating his own cock, as was normally the case in at least 99% of all porn videos I had ever seen; and I can tell you, I had seen plenty. In fact my sex life until just last week when Paco had taken me in hand and shown me the ropes, had been limited surreptitiously to watching porn videos in the school’s computer room, coupled with nightly masturbation in my bed.  I can definitely say that as a man of only one night’s practical apprenticeship to the real thing, practical experience beats by miles, watching videos of guys fucking each other followed by them both jerking off.

As I slid my prize possession gently inside of Kyle, I was delighted to feel him again grip my tumescent meat with his anal muscles, a pressure which he exerted during our entire sexual communion. I was even more pleased when I bottomed my pelvis against his ass and he let out a groan of pleasure as I shared my full ten-inches with him. I waited a full half minute to allow us each to enjoy this most intimate of contacts, before I withdrew my dick and commenced fucking him with the long, slow, but powerful strokes a technique that I had so recently learned from Paco. 

From then on it was as if Kyle and I had rehearsed things together for our audience of four: Paco, Darren, Alan and Carl. Kyle continued to maintain his anal grip on my penis, heightening my own pleasure at every stroke, but in so doing, extracting the maximum sensation for himself from my efforts. For me, it was absolutely heavenly; I saw that in choosing him, I had selected an experienced guy who was truly a great bottom: a partner, who did not just allow himself to be fucked but participated positively in the act.

As the prime mover, I inevitably became increasingly sexually aroused with what I was doing and as the tension built up, my movements became ever more powerful and swift, until I was literally battering Kyle’s ass. When I saw that I could no longer hold myself back, with one final, powerful thrust of my cock, I climaxed in an almighty, uncontrolled, orgasm and dumped my entire load deep inside Kyle into the Trojan condom I was wearing at Paco’s behest. The brief few seconds in which I pumped my sperm into Kyle were absolute bliss for me: I felt had been transported to heaven. However, when I recovered my breath after what had been a gruelling road to the Olympian heights, I was immediately angry with myself that I had let Kyle down.

Why I, a beginner at anal sex, should ever have thought that I could take Kyle his climax simultaneously with my own, God alone knows. I had seen numerous videos of guys having sex together; usually not even the top managed to climax inside his partner; both of them normally finished up jerking themselves off to a climax and sprayed each other with their sperm. What I had achieved by climaxing inside Kyle was already almost a unique happening. Perhaps I had been overambitious and set my sights unachievable high. But the fact was that I was still cross with myself and determined to to make things right as I saw them.  All these thoughts flashed through my head whilst my cock was still embedded deep inside of Kyle’s rectum.

In the spirit of in for a dime in for a dollar, I decided to take up where I had left off and attempt to fuck Kyle through to his own climax. Accordingly, I again began to pump his ass with my cock as I had been doing before my own climax. However, I quickly saw that this was not possible as my own emission had been so copious that it had more or less filled the Trojan, thereby hindering my movements. Throwing caution to the winds, I withdrew my cock from Kyle, tore of the rubber, where it landed on the tiles of the terrace floor with a distinct plop. I reached for the bottle of lubricant, applied a liberal quantity to my still erect member and quickly penetrated him again. I succeeded after a vigorous five minutes of hard thrusting to bring Kyle to his own climax.

I was learning fast; to coin a phrase and debase the meaning of the word fucking – fucking butt is fucking hard work. I am not personally given to swearing, although my school mates, both male and female, all swore like troopers. I particularly abhor the use of the word fuck, an act which I was quickly to come to adore, when is used as an expletive totally without meaning. I found that I was mentally chastising myself for having coined the above phrase and vowed to myself that in future I would never again utter aloud the word, other than in context of its true meaning, defined in my dictionary as sexual intercourse. All these thoughts flashed through my head whilst I was still inside of Kyle, sweating like a bull as his body jerked violently as he finally shot his load into the Trojan condom he was wearing. I am happy to say that we received a warm round of applause from all four observers, for what had been and exciting demonstration of anal copulation: my first fuck in public before a group of onlookers.

Kyle heaved himself up from the table over which he had been bending, whilst I was addressing his ass. He put his arms around my neck and gave me kiss directly on my lips, which was the first time, in my whole life that any man had done anything like that to me. It brought home to me with a vengeance just how much more intimate is kiss on the lips than sexual intercourse.  He whispered in my ear: “My God, Liam where did you learn to fuck like that? That, my friend was easily the greatest fuck I have ever had in my life; and I can tell you that I have had plenty.”

I then become aware that Kyle was poking my cock with his. Both of us were still hard and as our two cocks aligned themselves, his on top of mine, I felt him place his hand around both our pieces of meat and pull them together parallel to each other.  I was aware that my own endowment was bigger than his and I felt honoured that he had nevertheless adopted such an intimate attitude of expressing his thanks for my efforts. In a way, it was, I big-headedly supposed, a silent acknowledgment of my physical superiority over his.

It was obvious from the intimate way in which Kyle was fondling me, in what I suppose might best be called our post-copulative idyll, that he was wanting a return bout in which he would penetrate me, to which I had no objection at all. However, before he could voice his wishes, Paco intervened: “Gentlemen I think we can all agree, having seen Liam’s sterling performance and his incredible endowment, that he is more than qualified to be accepted as the latest and also, aged only 16 as he now is, the youngest member ever of the CCC.” So now I finally knew if not actual name, at least the acronym, SeeSeeSee, of the fraternity I was joining. 

Seeing the puzzled look on my face, Paco elaborated: “I see from the look on our new member’s face, that he is unaware of the name of the illustrious club he has just had the privilege of joining. Well, Liam, the full name of the CCC is The Competent Cocks Club. I think I can safely say that all members present, having witnessed your performance on Kyle, would agree that you, Liam, in spite of your youth, most certainly have a competent cock.”

“Gentlemen, I would like you all to give our new member, Liam Doyle, and, of course, his partner in crime, Kyle, a round of applause for their joint performance tonight, the likes of which I doubt that any of us here had ever seen the likes before.” Then turning to address me directly, he said: “Liam, allow me, on behalf of all of us who were privileged to observe your stellar performance in the CCC initiation ceremony, assure you that it will go down in all of our memories as a unique moment in the life of the club. On behalf of all the members present tonight, I have the greatest pleasure in welcoming you as a full and worthy member of our unique little club, which, I believe brings together some of the biggest and best cocks in the Chicago area in the name of the activity to which we are all devoted: gay-sex.” He then handed me a silver stick pin bearing the letters CCC, and said: “Liam I have pleasure of giving you this lapel pin, which I hope, you will wear with pride as do we all; Welcome, Liam, to our little fraternity.”

After what I could but consider as my triumph, I, or, perhaps more accurately, my cock, was in great demand for the rest of the evening, which went from one imaginative copulative act to another, non-stop until midnight.  As a neophyte to such a no-holds-barred occasion, where everything was permitted, I wallowed luxuriously in the freedom to do exactly what I wanted. My post initiation evening began somewhat conventionally, I suppose with the six of us forming three couples for bouts of conventional, run-of-the-mill, anal sex. Remember, I had never before been at what, as the evening progressed, quickly became a six-man orgy of gay-sex and so I had no idea of how such occasions usually developed.

Kyle and I obviously formed one couple. I was, of course, more than willing to submit my ass to the tender-loving-care of his cock.  Even from my limited experience as an active gay, I had already recognised that I enjoyed being fucked just as much as I enjoyed reaming out my partner’s ass with my own cock. I have to say that Kyle proved to be as great a top as he had been a bottom for me. He gave my hole, what I can but define as absolute hell in the search for the highly elusive, simultaneous orgasm, which, inexperienced as I was, having experienced it myself just once, I had already recognised as the nec-plus-ultra of gay-sex.

Did Kyle achieve his objective? No, of course he did not. He managed to reach his own climax, leaving me with a generous souvenir of his semen in my rectum as neither of us had used a condom and we had had bareback sex together. Even after strenuous, post-climax pounding, he did not manage to take me through to my climax, which I was forced, with great regret, to induce manually myself after he had given up his efforts and withdrawn his cock from active service. However, the acts which Kyle and I had performed together, with each of us playing successively both top and bottom role, were to make us intimate friends for our entire lives.

After this I have a clear recollection of the six of us being organised by Paco into a chain, linked cock to ass. We then endeavoured somewhat unsuccessfully as I remember it,  to coordinate our movements and fuck each other, with the front guy, whose cock was free, attempting, unsuccessful in a sort of circular movement, to penetrate the last guy’s ass. After that I have no recollection of anything until next morning when I woke up naked in a bed which I had obviously shared with someone, who was now clearly taking a shower in the adjoining bathroom.

When I went to investigate, to my extreme surprise, I found that my partner was none other than the gorgeous Darren, whose back and deliciously attractive ass were facing towards me as he soaped himself up under the running water. I could not resist the strident call of my cock, which on seeing Darren’s ass just crying out for the tender-loving-care of a morning wake-up call, had risen, as ever, nobly to the occasion and was just crying out for action.  As, in the past, I had had to kerb its enthusiasm on numerous inappropriate occasions, this time I saw of no reason to deny it its dearest wish.

Darren did not see me approach him; he had his back towards me and the sound of the running water obscured the fact that I had entered the shower and was standing directly behind him.  The first thing  he knew that he was not alone, was when I grabbed him by his shoulders and in one swift move, thrust the full length of my rock-hard, ten-inch boner into his ass. God alone knows, how I had the chutzpah, the sheer brazen audacity, to indulge in an act, which bordered on rape, on the very man, my mentor’s partner, to whom I owed so much of my recent practical sex-education. But nothing ventured nothing gained as the saying has it; and once I was in inside of Darren, the deed was done and there could be no going back. If I was to be hanged for my actions, then it might as well be for a sheep as for a lamb. That is, at least how I attempted to assuage my conscience as I proceeded to rough-fuck Darren’s ass, as if there was to be no tomorrow.

Frankly I am ashamed to say, that I greatly enjoyed what I was doing, It was a totally selfish act and I knew it; but once I got started I could not stop; I hammered Darren’s ass until I achieved my own orgasm and dumped my load deep inside of his rectum.  As soon as I had achieved my own climax, I was filled with remorse at what I had just done to Darren. It had already taught me a salutary lesson: sex was a great servant but a hard master. I saw now how men, unable to control that most basic of instincts, copulation, finish up in gaol for rape. 

To my great surprise as I withdrew my still rigid dick from Darren’s ass and he was able, for the first time that morning, to turn and face me, he said: “Well Liam, you are sure a quick learner. That was as good a rough-fuck as I have ever experienced.  You, Liam, are quite amazing.”

I was staggered that I had evidently not blown whatever relationship I had with Darren, which I guess had hitherto been okay, as we had, for some reason, unknown to me, shared a bed together; although I am not sure anything actually happened between us in bed after the sex-orgy last night. However, I am one of those people who cannot live for long with a guilty conscience and although Darren had apparently taken my attack, which was tantamount to rape, on the chin, irrespective of whether he had, as he claimed, enjoyed it or not, I felt totally guilty myself.

I may have been a beginner, but I had already learned that sexual intercourse is a mutual business and my conscience told me that I owed Darren something as I had rough-fucked him without giving the slightest thought to him. As much to assuage my own feeling of guilt as to make amends to Darren for having left him high and dry, whilst I myself was luxuriating in the satisfaction of having fucked the living daylights out of him, without any thought for his feelings, I knew – or at least, I thought I knew – that I had to do something for Darren to put things right between us.

We dried ourselves off and returned, to the bedroom both of us naked, with my cock still sporting that arrogant rigidity which made no sign sign of subsiding, even though it had just taken Darren’s ass to hell and back in the shower.  “Darren,” I said, “I am sorry I took you by surprise under the shower just now and satisfied myself without any thought of you. I know I gave you absolute hell, but I would now like to make it up to you by taking you through to a place, which I fancifully think of as paradise on earth. So why don’t you just lie on your back on the bed bed and let me fuck you through to your own climax.”

“Liam, if what you just did to me in the shower was hell, I shall be a happy man if your version of paradise is just half as good as hell. Lead on Macduff.”

I admit that I was ready and willing and, being brutally honest with myself, irrespective of putting things right with Darren I wanted to fuck him again right away. I was astounded to hear Darren miss-quote a line from Shakespeare’s Macbeth, which, not much of a literary scholar myself, we just happened to have been studying in class the previous week, that very scene where Macbeth made his famous, oft misquoted, remark: Lead on Macduff . (Author’s note: For readers unfamiliar with Macbeth, what Macbeth actually said was: “Lay on Macduff.”) But armed with that encouraging miss-quotation from Darren, I resolved to continue. 

My cock, that ever faithful thermometer of my readiness for sex, was already pushing the mercury off the scale. It had not yielded an inch, since I had withdrawn it from Darren in the shower and was still as firm as a rock and as fresh as a daisy and ready to go again. With such verbal endorsement from Darren, I saw no reason to deprive it of another exploratory outing. After all, until I had been taken in hand by Paco a week ago, my poor dick had known nothing but disappointment, having been brought to heel times without number.

I knew that basically I just wanted to have sex with Darren again; the fact of the matter was that at that precise moment, I found him irresistible; and as he had expressed himself as more than willing, to resist such mutual attraction would have been churlish. In fact, as it later transpired, Darren had wanted to have sex with me again, just as much as I had I had wanted to have sex with him again.  So, to call a spade a spade, our second pre-breakfast union, was between two guys, each of whom had the hots for the other.

But in spite of the facts, I still persisted in what I knew was my fictional belief that I was on a mission to put things right between us, when, on all current evidence, there was nothing at all to put right! I suppose it eased my guilty conscience, which even Darren’s affirmation that he had enjoyed being attacked by me, had not managed to dispel completely from my mind.

Darren lay there on his back on the bed; I placed a pillow under his hips to raise his entry point to a more convenient level, separated his legs and knelt between them; then with no more ado, for the second time in fifteen minutes, I again thrust my willing boner deep inside him. My first attack in the shower had been bare-back, as I guess had all my actions the previous evening, when I had discarded the condom and my own man-juice had provided adequate lubrication for the smooth entry of my cock.

Although I desperately wanted to fuck Darren again, I appreciated that this time, come what may, I had rashly, verbally promised to take him to paradise. With this promise in mind, although I again pounded his ass remorselessly with long strokes of my man-meat, I never lost sight of the fact that my declared objective to him had been to take him to orgasm.

Inevitably, as the sexual tension in both of us built up to breaking point, I again felt that I could barely hold myself back from my own sexual climax for very little longer. Darren, who like the good bottom he was, had been continuously gripping my dick with his anal sphincters, making me work hard with every stroke, suddenly moaned repeatedly: “Liam, that’s it; that’s it; that’s nearly it; please don’t stop now.” Then suddenly, as I exploded uncontrollably and dumped my second load of semen deep inside him, I felt his body shudder violently beneath me and his massive cock, which had lain quiescent between us whilst I attended to the needs of his ass, suddenly erupted in a veritable tsunami of sperm, which, as he was no longer using a condom, he vigorously pumped all over the front of my body, in a series of violent jerks, with such force that some of it landed on my face.

I instantly realised that I had achieved the quasi unachievable: the simultaneous orgasm of me, the fucker, and Darren, the fucked. Having been privileged to experience just once previously, when Paco had fucked my ass whilst I was fucking Darren on my first visit to Pace’s apartment, I knew that by some miracle, Darren and I had participated in the Holy Communion of sex. I had been fortunate in my limited sex-life, which, let’s face it, was only just over a week old, to have several times been fucked to orgasm.

But now that I was experiencing, for the second time in my life, the sensation of the simultaneous orgasm with Darren, I can tell you that for sheer intensity of feeling, the simultaneous orgasm knocks all other climaxes, however induced, into a cocked hat. The pity is that, although the experience is incomparably intense, it is, like all other orgasms however induced, equally fleeting. But whilst it lasts, it is utterly sensational; the most exquisite feeling in the world that male lovers can ever a share together; and that is what Darren and I had just experienced.

For several minutes, I lay face down on the prone Darren, catching my breath after what had been an intense, but exhilarating, experience for both of us. I marvelled at my own body’s recuperative power, as I had again, in a very short time frame, deposited deep inside of Darren, a second load of my sperm, comparable in quantity to the first. However, if I had thought that our pre-breakfast sexual interlude was now over, I was forced to quickly think again. Darren, who was a few years older than me and a much more muscular man, suddenly flipped me over on the bed and assumed the top position. Before I knew it, I felt the tip of his 12 inch boner pushing against my anus and he quickly entered me. It was a heavenly feeling to have his naked cock inside me.  I revelled in my new found pleasure.

Any initial fear I had had when I first faced the prospect of taking Darren’s monumental piece of man-meat inside me, had now completely vanished. Darren’s appetite for rough sex was clearly aroused, a fact he clearly demonstrated as he brutally hammered my ass with repeated long strokes of his cock. It was a performance which mirrored that, to which I had subjected him under the shower. As far as Darren was concerned, at that moment, my role was reduced to being just a piece of meat being fucked, as he savagely exercised his sexual ego on me; but, I have to say that I was enjoying being quasi-raped enormously. Darren had been in such a sexually aroused, uncontrollable state before he started on my ass, that it was not long before he withdrew himself completely, waited two seconds before ruthlessly forcing himself back inside me dumping his load deep in my rectum.

Somehow I found the fact that I now had part of him inside me, just as he had part of me inside himself, had deepened our friendship, which I nevertheless knew could never be more than that, committed as Darren was to Paco. I marvelled that I had found myself sharing a bed with him in Paco’s second bedroom and wondered what Paco himself had done the previous night. I had already understood that Paco and Darren together were together a rock-solid item; but each of them of them was very liberal when it came to casual sex on the side.

However, I rejoiced in the fact that my sex life appeared to have taken off with a bang. I had become a member of an exclusive sex club and there were still more members to meet: more bodies potentially to explore. Quite suddenly prospects for my immediate future sex life looked very promising. I had finally, aged but 16 and still a minor at school, broken free of the shackles of virginity – and how!  I looked eagerly forward to what the immediate future would hold for me.

CHAPTER 9.

My sister, with considerable tact, did not enquire why I had not come home on Friday when I finally showed up at home towards midday on Saturday.  I breathed a silent sigh of relief that I did not have to explain to her what I had been doing the previous evening and took her silence as a tacit acceptance of our new relationship now that she knew that her only brother was gay. I understood how difficult it must have been for her to face to the fact that the 16 year-old young man whom she had raised since birth as a son rather than a brother was now charting his own course in life; a course, of which I knew she could barely approve.  I mentally applauded her wisdom in accepting the fact that I was a homosexual, which showed me how aware she was that there was nothing at all she could do to change my sexual orientation.

The fact that I had, I suppose, in a way, come out to her and she had accepted that the type of life her brother would lead was with other men, had cleared the air between us; it was a testimony to the deep love she felt for me as her surrogate son; a love, which, I hasten to add, was completely reciprocated by me. I rejoiced in the fact that she had clearly had had no intention of allowing my revelation to upset the happy family life which we had enjoyed together since my birth. To jump ahead in my story it was Maureen’s acceptance of me, warts and all, as I was, and not as what she hoped I might have been, which conserved, for the next two years, the completely harmonious mother-son relationship that had always existed between us.

As will later be revealed, it was a radical and totally unexpected change in the status of my sister, Maureen, which changed both of our lives, rather than any wish on my part to leave the family home. However, it led to an amicable end of the status quo and obliged me, then aged 18 and a fully fledged, highly sexually active, gay young-man, to find somewhere else to live and fend for myself.  I suppose the end had to come sometime, as it always does, when children, seeking their independence, flee the parental home and set up house for themselves. But no one could have foreseen what led to the amicable breakup of my little family home with Maureen which we had enjoyed together since my birth.

However, to come back to what developed after I finally left Paco’s apartment that Saturday morning; later that same day in the afternoon I received a call from Kyle on my iPhone (an extravagant birthday present from my sister, Maureen. God knows how she had afforded it; but she had) inviting me to meet the other four members of the CCC, who had not been present at my initiation yesterday evening: “Liam, I want you to invite you join me and the other four CCC guys, whom you have not yet met, at the men-only swimming pool on Lake Michigan north of the city centre. The weather is as hot a shell at the moment, and we often go there on Sundays to improve our tans. Oh, and in case you don’t already know it, you will not need any swimming briefs, as it is a strictly nude-only place.” 

Improving their tans was how he had put it; but the innuendo of a men-only, strictly-nude gathering immediately put my mind into overdrive imagining what might happen there.  Kyle continued: “If you want to come, then Mark, he’s one of the guys I wish you to meet, has a car and will pick you and me up in front of the main entrance of Macy’s, the old Marshal Field building on North State at precisely 2 p.m. So be there waiting on the edge of the side-walk as it is a non-stopping zone and the street police are very keen to issue fines to offenders.”

How could I refuse such an invitation? I had never met Mark or the other three; but the thought of meeting them at a nude swimming pool for men was irresistible.  Like many men with large endowments, I was never embarrassed to show off my assets. Kyle and I met on the sidewalk on State Street in front of Macy’s as instructed and Mark’s car, with the three others, came by on time and picked us up. I was somewhat surprised to find that two of my new companions were African Americans, with whom I shared the bench backseat, while Kyle shared the front bench seat with Mark and Mike. So I now knew that the full complement of the present CCC, of which I was the newest and youngest member, was made up of three blacks and seven whites. As we drove north, Kyle introduced me to the others. The driver was Mark, the other white guy was Mike, and the two blacks were Leroy and Antwon.

I could hardly wait to see the two blacks, whom I had just met, strip off, to see how they compared with the divine Darren. Although I had been the youngest on Friday at my initiation, I was big for my age – I was already over 6 ft aged just 16 and had had easily the biggest cock of any man present, other than that of Darren. But I knew that blacks were reputed to have bigger dicks than white guys – witness Darren’s Priapic monument. So was I now to find myself relegated to fourth place by the endowments of Leroy and Antwon?

If that were to prove the case there was nothing I could do but grin and bear it. Knowing that you possess the biggest cock around does wonders for any guy’s ego! But I tell you, if it turned out to be so it would dent my pride. Nevertheless, until the question was resolved for better or worse, as you can well imagine, it churned around in my head. Even as a beginner to gay-sex, I had already developed a pride in my generous endowment, which, as I had already learned at school, was always an object of envious admiration.

The pool was located on a quiet stretch of the lake shore and was surrounded by a high fence. Why, you might well ask, is a swimming pool necessary directly on the lake shore when the lake itself is easily accessible? Well, for those of you who are not familiar with Lake Michigan, even in midsummer the water temperature is a bit too low for many people’s taste and an unheated swimming pool of unchlorinated lake-water in full sun tends to warm up quickly to a temperature more acceptable to most swimmers.  The pool area had been landscaped with thousands of tons of sand to resemble a seaside beach.  In common with most seaside beaches, there were the customary beach paraphernalia of parasols and canvas windbreaks scattered around, behind which I suspected – and I have to say, hoped – that more than just sunbathing was taking place.

We found ourselves a place and an attendant brought us a windbreak, which we erected, We all stripped off  and you can imagine my relief when both Leroy and Antwon, both of whom were muscular guys of  18 or 19 and well endowed sexually, turned out to have a cocks shorter than mine. I was silently elated that I had not been dethroned from my second place in what I had already come to think of as the CCC cock hierarchy. None of my four new friends was badly equipped: but my self-esteem soared when I saw them looking admiringly at man-meat, which was behaving itself at a flaccidly quiescent eight inches at that moment, falling gracefully over my balls.

This was the first time I had ever been in a place where a lot of muscular young men were besporting themselves naked. Looking around me at the other frequenters of the beach, about 20% of whom were black that day, I become aware that there was a great deal of lusciously admirable black man-meat around; massive black cocks did not seem at all that unusual; I concluded that  Darren was not unique, but possibly typical of his race.

However, what I noticed was that many of the guys, whites and blacks, but by no means all of them, had cocks which, even when flaccid and soft, maintained what I have chosen to call a presence: a sexually visually attractive quality, which goes way beyond the sheer sheer size of the member.  Some guys, both black and white, had large dicks, which although attractively aggressive when erect for action, when soft, hung lifelessly down, looking dolefully unattractive, almost as if they had lost a dollar and found a dime.

But some others, to which group I count myself lucky to belong, had dicks which make a statement; even when flaccid, they asserted their presence and obvious willingness for action and managed to make themselves sexually attractive to the observer’s eye. New to the gay-sex scene, I had nevertheless, at the age of 16, already developed a discriminating eye when it came to choosing potential sex partners. Just in case you have not got the message, let me spell it out. I really dig muscular guys with big dicks, which look attractive, even when soft.

The six of us spent the next hour or so sunbathing and swimming, both activities which I had never before practised in the nude as I had never before been in such a place in my life. Indeed, until Kyle made the suggestion that we meet the other four members of the CCC here, I naively had not known that such places existed. It was absolute heaven for me to find myself surrounded by so much sexually well-endowed, muscular male-flesh, much of which, I guess, judging from the sounds of physical exertion emanating from behind the neighbouring windbreaks, was there for only one purpose: al fresco sex!

I can tell you that being part of a live crowd of gorgeous, sexually well-equipped,  young studs, most of whom were sporting impressive man-meat, beat, hands down, my furtive looking at pictures of naked men in magazines as I had hitherto done at the news-dealer’s. My only previous experience of being among a group of naked men was after PE class in the showers at school. But I can tell you that the guys who patronised the nude swimming area were in a different class to most of my schoolmates. Aged only 16, but lucky enough myself to be blessed by nature with an enviably large piece of meat between my legs, I felt completely at home among such over-sexed guys.

It seemed evident to me that the four CCC members, having missed out on my initiation ceremony on Friday evening, would want their pound of flesh and frankly, just looking at them, I had no objection to participating in a repeat performance of what had happened in Paco’s apartment on Friday evening. In fact, I could feel that the patience of that alter ego between my legs was fast disappearing. I knew from past experience that my own man-meat would soon be getting antsy and beyond control and would shortly be demanding action in its customary strident way. I saw that my companions were also reaching the end of their sexual forbearance and observed, from the almost imperceptible twitching of their cocks, that they would also shortly be demanding more than just swimming and sunbathing.

Kyle motioned us to move as a group to one of a number of shelters situated along the fence of the swimming area. Ostensibly provided as refuges, to allow nude bathers some respite from the burning heat of the sun, it was clear from the activities, which were going on in many of them, that they served a dual purpose. They were rudimentary structures, open fronted towards the lake and visible to passersby, equipped with a table and chairs to enable picnic food to be served out of the blazing sun. But as you will already have probably guessed they were seldom used for that purpose as picnicking was far from most the minds of most guys’.

Although open-fronted and thus providing minimum privacy for their occupants from the eyes of passersby, they were nevertheless in great demand from the bathing fraternity for that other activity which inevitably accompanies gay, male nudity: anal copulation.  As we searched for a vacant shelter for ourselves, we passed by several in which were already taken by other groups engaged in the inimitable act of gay-sex.

Although nothing had been said about why we were moving from the beach windbreak to a more solid shelter, it was obvious to me that my ass was on line to be the target of the four members of the CCC: Mike, Mark, Leroy and Antwon, all four of whom I had met just today.  Kyle, today, as the arch-organiser, also took on the role of Master of Ceremonies.  I waited silently, while he made a little speech about the initiation ritual of any new member into the fraternity of the CCC. This time it took a quite different form to that of Friday night.

Sexual activity between gay men comprises only three basic acts. The first and most important is anal intercourse, which, given that both parties to the act possess both a penis and an anus, they can each both fuck and be fucked: each can play both top and bottom roles. This is an advantage over heterosexual sex, where the only the male can physically fuck his female partner; she, in contrast to a male partner, who has only an anus, can provide her partner with both a vagina and an anus to fuck and there is more heterosexual anal sex around than you might think at first.

The second is oral intercourse, which adopts two classic forms. In the first, the active partner supplies the active mouth; he sucks and licks his partner’s penis, in various states of arousal, ultimately bringing him to orgasm, in which he splatters his sperm all over his active partner’s face. In the second form of oral sex, the active partner thrusts his penis into the mouth of his partner, who can be of either sex, and whose mouth and throat become surrogates for the anus or vagina. Usually referred to as a face fuck, the active partner’s penis finishes up deep down the throat of the other, who swallows the sperm when the cock with which he or she is being force-fed, climaxes. It is oral sex’s nearest equivalent to anal or vaginal copulation.

There is yet another activity, which I have to say, as a young man, I find quite distasteful to perform myself, although I am quite happy, when bottoming, to allow my partner to practise it on me. This is called rimming, which in its most refined form involves just what its name implies; the active partner runs the tip of his tongue round the edge of his partner’s anal pucker. However, what usually seems to happen is that the active partner figuratively devours his partner’s anus before moving on to penetrate it with his own cock; as such it tends to be a preliminary to true penetrative sex. Rimming never seems to stand alone, whereas anal and oral sex each both can and do. But at the end of the day it is anal sex, which is the sine qua non of all gay, sexual relationships. In a word fucking butt is king!

The reason why I have gone to such length to set out the basic acts of gay-sex is because of the myriad number of ways in which they can – and indeed, are – physically performed. I do not know if there is the equivalent of a gay Kama Sutra, the ancient Indian illustrated compendium of 64 detailed positions for sex between a man and a woman, but believe me, when it comes to male-male, group sex, the imagination know no bounds and the gay Kama Sutra could only ever hope to be the tip of the iceberg of man’s ingenuity when it comes to fucking other men. As I was soon to learn, in this, the second phase of my initiation into the CCC, I was to experience, for the first time ever, the simultaneous combination of oral and anal sex in spades.

My four new companions separated themselves into two groups: one white and one black, and laughingly tossed a coin; it was obviously something to do with the roles each group would play in my initiation. I did not have long to wait as Kyle told me that the four of them intended to act simultaneously together as a single bloc in initiating me. It was to be quite a different experience from the one I had previously encountered on Friday night. When I tried to ask what was intended, Kyle told me to wait and see and that I would soon find out.

Was I nervous? Of course I was. Yes, faced with being fucked in short order by four muscular young studs whom I had just met as a group, I was extremely nervous; but, nevertheless, I found myself somehow looking forward to the experience. By this time, with all of us naked and psyched up to fuck, we were all sporting impressive boners, Kyle included, although he ultimately was not physically involved in what immediately followed, which was so extraordinary it almost defies description.

As the initiand, the one about to be fucked, I was made to bend across the table. With all of us watching, Antwon and Leroy proceeded to lubricate their dicks ready for sex. The next thing I knew was that Antwon, who was standing behind me, placed his hands on my hips and without the slightest hesitation, penetrated my anus bareback in one smooth experienced stroke, giving me the full length of his erection; he overcame the inbuilt, automatic resistance of my anal sphincters with the professionalism of a guy who fucks butt on a regular basis and knows exactly what he was doing.  Then he in turn had his own hole shafted by Leroy.  So there we were the three of us held together by two cocks; Antwon had his cock up my ass and Leroy had his cock similarly inside of Antwon. 

But this erotic piece of sexual gymnastics’ was not yet complete. Mike now dropped to his knees under the table and took the head of my 10 inch erection into his mouth; Mark, meanwhile, knelt on the table and forced his erection into my mouth. So, there I was with both principal orifices of my body, anus and mouth, accommodating the erect man-meat of two different guys, while my own rock-hard fuck-stick was being sucked off by Mike, kneeling under the table.

As I said earlier, this scene of the second round of my my initiation into the CCC, of which Kyle was the lone observer, was but one example of the multitudinous physical combinations of ass, mouth and dick which are possible in group male sex. The mind boggles at the impossible task facing anyone foolhardy enough even to attempt to codify the sexual possibilities of group male sex into a Gay Kama Sutra. It is, I think impossible; like the answer to the question:  how long is a piece of string?

So, there I was, totally immobilised, transfixed by four sizeable cocks, including my own, which was firmly in Mike’s mouth.  Trussed like a chicken for the oven, there was nothing at all I could do other than wait to see what form the dynamics of the second round of my initiation would take. When it came it was totally different from the first on Friday night where I had taken each member on an individual basis. This time the thrusting, both oral and anal was more restrained as all five of us were physically embedded in each other, posing a problem of individual movement coordination. But as it had been on Friday, the action was still limited to the six thrusts per initiator.  This I later learned was the CCC norm governing the initiation of newcomers into the fraternity; for that is what the CCC amounted to: a fraternity of well-endowed young studs who met on a regular basis to exercise their sexual talents on each other, in a totally uninhibited way.  And, my God, the four of them did just that right now on me.

I almost gagged as Mark thrust his cock ever deeper down my throat in what was, for me, my first face-fuck ever.  Needless to say with only six thrusts allowed, he did not climax inside me; it sort of took the shine of what is one of the key acts of oral, gay-sex, where the recipient takes and swallows the total amount of his partner’s emission as he climaxes directly in passive partner’s and throat. Whilst Mark was occupied thrusting his cock into my mouth, Mike, kneeling under the table, was greedily sucking off my 10 inch boner. I regretted that his efforts were cut short before he took me to orgasm by his efforts, as I found it a very agreeable experience to have my dick sucked and mouth fondled by a guy who really knew what he was doing.  Whilst these two oral acts were going on, Antwon, bolstered by Leroy’s cock up his own ass, gave my anus the CCC prescribed six thrusts.

But with this, my initiation was still not complete. The four initiators, Mark, Mike, Antwon and Leroy now swapped positions. Mike knelt on the table and thrust his cock into my mouth, whilst Mark knelt under the table and prepared to suck me off. Antwon’s cock in my anus was replaced by Leroy’s, who like his partner slid himself smoothly inside me, whilst his own ass was transfixed by Antwon’s cock. Then the same ritual of six thrusts was repeated, after which, sexually totally unsatisfied by the brevity of the sex acts, as I guess were also the four others, I was liberated from the physical human bonds of my captors.

The four of them obviously knew the initiation protocol off pat and that it was now the moment for me, the initiand, to show them my mettle: to demonstrate that I could fuck as well as allow myself to be fucked. All four of them automatically bent across the table in a row, and spread their legs, invitingly offering my cock easy access to their anuses. My cock, rejoicing that its hour of glory had finally arrived, performed heroically. I had already understood, from my limited practical experience of anal sex, that lubrication was the key to a successful fuck. Kyle handed me a tube of lubricant, with which I generously anointed my cock, as well as the four anal puckers which I was expected, and, quite frankly, feeling totally randy, was looking forward with considerable pleasure, to penetrate, as my active part in the initiation ceremony. I must add that my cock overjoyed with anticipation of it key role, maintained itself impeccably, rigidly erect and straight as a rod, until I had finished my part of the initiation ceremony.

I must just add that by the time I had finished my mini-tour de force, shafting four guys in quick succession, we were all greeted by a round of unexpected applause.  Unbeknown to all of us, except possibly Kyle, as we, the performers had all had our backs towards the open front of the shelter, other guys, looking for a spot to exercise their libidos on each other, had evidently noticed in passing what was a copulative tour de force in progress and had stopped to admire the spectacle.

I had quickly given six thrusts to each of the four supplicant asses and was then again faced with the question which one of the four I should choose to fuck to completion as the initiation protocol required of me; not that it was a chore, you understand; but it did involve me making a choice. In the event it was not difficult, for it was Antwon who had shown the greatest control of his anal sphincters and was clearly capable of playing as active a role as any bottom ever can. I had already learned from Paco that one of the key criteria which makes for a really great fuck is that the bottom grip the top’s cock with his anal muscles as firmly as he can throughout the entire process.

By so doing he makes the top sing for his supper, so to speak, and both fucker and fucked get the maximum enjoyment out of their joint efforts. And that is a key point: anal sex is a joint effort between both parties. Whilst it is true that the top visually does the most work, it is a fact that the hidden efforts of the bottom in maintaining pressure on his partner’s dick are a major contributor to an outstanding fuck.

As soon as I shafted Antwon again, I knew that I had made the right choice of partner; his anal muscles had that automatic reflex resisting the invasive object – my cock – which they gripped tight during the entire time I was inside him. I somehow sensed from the way he had briefly shafted me, with six really hard thrusts, that he was in the mood for a really hard fuck. Throwing caution to the wind, I slammed my ten-inch ramrod of a fuck-stick straight into his anus and proceed rightly or wrongly – rightly as it subsequently turned out – to fuck the hell out of his ass, without, I admit, any consideration for his feelings at all.

He ably resisted the attack of my cock with his anal muscles, whilst I battered his ass with ever increasing ferocity intensity and maintained his grip on my cock for the whole time I was fucking him with ever greater vigour. At each thrust of my cock, I practically withdrew my full ten-inches from his anus before forcing myself quite brutally back into him with ever increasing power and speed.

After some minutes, I was personally totally in the thrall of what I was doing; intoxicated by the exhilaration of the act of copulation. A fervent believer in the concept of the mutuality of the sex act: that top and bottom partners must enjoy it equally, I sincerely hoped that Antwon was enjoying our union as much as I was. But in all honesty, at that moment, I did not give a fig for Antwon’s feelings as, for the first time in my budding sex life, I was gripped by a sense of euphoria: that sense of ecstatic rapture, which performing the sex act with that single-mindedness of purpose, purely for my own satisfaction, was arousing  in me.

And it was then that the unexpected miracle occurred, which saved me from the subsequent ignominy of personal shame: that I had abandoned all my principles in furtherance of my own satisfaction and had completely forgotten that Antwon too had feelings. I told you earlier that I had a strong and omnipresent conscience, which held me to account whenever I did something which I knew was wrong and later regretted. If what I now describe had not happened, I knew that I would have wrestled with severe mental retribution in trying to placate my conscience for what I had just done.

I had been battering away full tilt at Antwon’s ass for a few minutes without any consideration for how he was feeling and had myself reached such a stage of sexual excitement that I was no longer able to hold back on my own climax. As I gave Antwon that one last thrust of my throbbing cock and dumped my first load of sperm of the day deep inside him, I suddenly felt his body shudder convulsively as he reached his own climax simultaneously with mine. His body jerked uncontrollably as he dumped his own generous emission of spunk, all over the floor.

For a moment neither of us grasped what we had just accidentally spontaneously achieved together: that much desired but so seldom attained miracle of simultaneous orgasm of both top and bottom parties to the act of sexual union.  At the risk of repeating myself, an orgasm achieved by anal intercourse is, for the top at least, ten times better than that produced by solitary masturbation. But even that fades into insignificance when both parties explode at the same time and share a most incredible few moments of unbelievably intense pleasure together.

Words cannot describe the sheer intensity of feeling which both parties experience as they climax and emit their sperm at precisely the same moment. It can only be appreciated through personal experience. As I have already observed, as far as I had seen from porn videos, the ultimate goal to have the same sort of congress the Gods of Mount Olympus mythically enjoy, was rarely reached on earth by us mere mortals.

I take no credit – none at all – for what Antwon and I had just achieved together; it was a happy accident. But, for me at least, it save me from trying to justify my actions with my conscience, which was a hard taskmaster and. for my entire life, was to keep me on the straight and narrow path of moral rectitude towards others. It dictated the direction that my behaviour in my future sex-life as a gay-man would take. I became quite messianic in my desire, when fucking another man – any other man – which was soon to become a very frequent activity in my life, always to take into account the feelings and desires of the guy I was fucking: a rare consideration in the case of one-night-stands, Many of which, I all too frequently was to find myself indulging between the age of 16 and 20. 

For me, sex, either as top or bottom, both of which I enjoyed equally and enormously, was quickly to become an absolute necessity in my life. However, it had always to be an act of mutuality. Without that consideration, one might just as well wank oneself silly, as most of us had doubtless done until, like me, we discovered the irreplaceable pleasure of sexual intercourse with another warm body. I hasten to add that I rarely achieved the Olympian heights of simultaneous orgasm with casual partners; but I nevertheless always took account of my partner’s feeling, irrespective of whether I was top or bottom to the sex act.

The passing group of guys, clearly fascinated by my sequential shafting efforts on the line up of four asses, which let’s face it, is not a  run-of the-mill occurrence of everyday sex, had remained to watch me fuck Antwon properly. I am not sure whether they appreciated quite what we had, by accident jointly achieved; but we nevertheless received a resounding second round of applause for our joint performance.

CHAPTER 10.

All good things come to an end sometime and after an exhilarating afternoon of sun, sand and sex, the six of us reluctantly pulled back on our clothes and returned to the car.  Mark dropped Kyle and me off in front of Macy’s where he had picked us up.  As Kyle and I stood there on the sidewalk looking at each other, it was obvious that neither of us wanted the afternoon to end there, on the blistering hot sidewalk of State Street in Chicago’s Loop. It was Kyle who broke our moment of silence by saying: “Look, Liam, I live quite near here, so if you have nothing better to do, why don’t you come back with me and see where I live?”  I was pretty sure from the way Kyle was looking at me, that that lower parts of my anatomy, in addition to my eyes, would be involved in the seeing process. 

It turned out that Kyle lived in a side street above a gym about ten minutes walk for where we had been dropped. As I subsequently learned Kyle worked as an assistant trainer in the gym and the small apartment where he lived was a fourth floor walk-up; it was definitely not for the faint of heart and the haltingly frail; however, as Kyle later explained, it came rent-free with the job and did, therefore, have certain financial compensations for its inconvenient location.

Kyle’s apartment was small, but it had all the necessities for a comfortable modern life. It had a living room with an open plan kitchen, one bedroom and a bathroom with a capacious shower. It was perfect for one man living alone, or even for two, willing to share a bed – and the shower – as I was to find some two years later when a totally unexpected event completely changed my life again; but we are not yet there.

“Well, what you think of the place?” asked Kyle, to which I replied: “It’s just great.” It did not have the luxury of Paco’s spacious apartment further up town off North Michigan Avenue, but compared with the house south of the Loop, in which my sister and I had always lived, Kyle’s home was a palace.

I wondered what would happen next as Kyle handed me a beer from the fridge and we sat down on the sofa side by side.  I did not have long to wait for his first move, which, as I had anticipated from the moment he took me back to his place, was an invitation to more sex. Neither he, as it turned out, nor I had wanted the fabulous afternoon to end with us parting company on the side-walk in front of Macy’s.

The main purpose behind the afternoon was final CCC initiation, which later that day, in bed with Kyle, I learned had been organised at the instigation of Paco Obregon. Ever a stickler for strict adherence to protocol both in his private and professional life, Paco, my sexual mentor and first ever sex-partner, had instigated the afternoon trip to the swimming beach for me to meet the remaining four members to and to complete my sexual initiation into the CCC. 

He had cajoled Kyle into being the organiser of the afternoon. However, as Kyle had exercised his physical prowess on my ass at the first phase of my initiation, he had now been side-lined into the post of adjudicator, whilst the other four new guys and I had revelled in the physical part of the second phase of my inauguration into the CCC.  And then, to add insult to injury, as Kyle had witnessed my sterling performance on Antwon’s anus, leading to that glorious simultaneous orgasmic explosion, it is not surprising that poor guy felt left out in the cold and was now panting away in need of sex.

Kyle now put down his beer on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and without hesitation, put his right arm around my neck, pulled me towards him and kissed me fully on the mouth. I did nothing to resist him, as his left hand wandered to my crotch, where my ever faithful piece of man-meat answered his unasked question and told him him all he needed to know. As I had foreseen, Kyle – in fact, both of us – wanted to pick up where we had left off on the beach.   Quite frankly, I was more than ready to oblige him, when he said: “As your cock is telling us that we both want the same thing, I suggest we make ourselves more comfortable and move to the bedroom and see what transpires.” 

By way of demonstrating to me the meaning of make ourselves more comfortable, Kyle stood up and, in a few seconds, divested himself of his clothes and stood unashamedly naked in front of me. It was not the first time I had seen this guy in all his naked glory – and believe me the word glory hardly suffices to describe what in my eyes, was the exquisitely physical, perfect young man I saw in front of me. Kyle must have been 19 or 20 years old, three or four years older than me at that time, and was in that glorious first phase of muscular flawlessness perfection which comes from regular hard work in the gym. He was finely muscled everywhere, without the overblown look of dedicated bodybuilder and had the most perfect penis I had ever seen in my young life; and believe me when I say I had ogled a lot of cocks on the Internet and considered myself a good judge of man-meat.

His superbly attractive phallus, flaccid as it was at that precise moment, displayed that quintessential quality, that epitome of perfection, which I have chosen to call presence; meaning the innate ability to make a statement just by being there, which it did in spades. It had been perfectly circumcised and, at that moment, curved gracefully in an arc over his pair of high-held balls. It was, for me, the ultimate of what I considered to be the perfect male sex organ. Kyle was an absolute inspiration to me. He looked exactly the way I hoped I might look, when, in the next few years, I reached his present age. Kyle was, at that moment, as he stood before me, what I considered as the role model for a perfect young male.

As I watched him, his penis started on its upward journey. With his penis now fully erect and converted into a formidable fuck-stick, I nevertheless noted with some considerable satisfaction, that my own 10 inch erection was still the bigger of the two. Kyle took me by the hand and pulled me to my feet off the sofa.  Almost before I knew it, he had pulled my T-shirt over my head, had undone my belt, unzipped my trousers and was attempting to pull down my underpants, which involved negotiating my cock, which was, true to form,  by now rigid and in its full fuck-mode. I helped Kyle navigate my underpants around my considerable erection and was finally able to step out of my final piece of clothing, after which he led me into the bedroom.

As it was his place and Kyle was, so to speak, the elder statesman, I put myself entirely in his hands. In fact, I was so taken with Kyle that I was quite prepared to allow him to do anything he wished to my body and equally ready myself to do the same for him.  He had everything to hand for what is usually referred to as safe sex. He handed me a Trojan Magnum and rolled one onto his own dick, which he lubricated liberally before handing me the tube of lubricant and motioning to me to do the same, thereby silently intimating to me that we were to penetrate each other successively. Then, without saying a word, he pushed me onto my knees on the bed and proceeded to thoroughly lubricate my anal pucker, giving me the impression that he intended to take me in the doggy position.  

But I was wrong, as he then rolled me over, spread my legs, bent my knees and knelt between them. He placed a pillow under the bottom of my back to raise my ass into a more accessible position for fucking; then with that one, smooth, unhesitating movement, which I had by now come to see as the mark of experience, he slid his hard male-meat deep inside me.

Kyle had his own uniquely personal style when he copulated. He was one of these guys who made haste slowly; every stroke was measured. He proved to be the personification of gentleness, as he thrust and withdrew completely the full length of his penis from my anus at every stroke. I attempted to assist him towards his own orgasm, by gripping his phallic member with my anal sphincter muscles during the whole time he was fucking me. As he withdrew himself practically completely at each stroke, I had the sensation of being penetrated multiple times at ever shorter intervals.

Although he was gentle throughout, he nevertheless, like all men he became increasingly more aroused himself, caught up, as the active partner, in the throes of the sex act, as he moved inescapably towards his own climax.   I had no idea whether or not he intended to shoot his load inside of me, which would anyway have been caught in the Trojan rubber he was wearing or if he was concentrating purely on satisfying himself, as is so often the case.

In the event, when he finally climaxed, he was deep inside me. After one last powerful thrust, he collapsed on my chest holding me tight in his arms.  I felt his whole body shudder violently, as he ejaculated his sperm into the Trojan, buried deep inside me. Personally, I was still far from orgasm when he climaxed, after which there was a long wait whilst he paused for breath after the strenuous efforts he had expended reaching his own orgasm. At that moment, as the bottom, I wondered if I was to be left high and dry as many bottoms I had seen on the porn Internet so often were. Was I now expected to do my own thing and jerk myself off? But I was completely wrong in my thoughts, for Kyle suddenly sprang to life again; he withdrew himself completely from my anus, pulled off the Trojan, which was ballooning with his generous emission of sperm and plunge his now naked fuck-stick bareback into me, thereby throwing the concept of safe sex out of the window.

At that moment, I could not have cared less, as Kyle continued in his languid, but thorough manner to fuck me bareback through to my own climax.  Given his style, it was a long slow process; but I was in absolute heaven as he systematically and unhurriedly pumped his magnificent tool in out of my ass, until he felt me shudder with my own orgasm. As I was still wearing the Trojan on my cock, my ever generous emission was caught in it and we did not finish up in a bed, soggy with slippery sperm.

As we lay there in each others’ arms, I realised that I had just experienced with Kyle a totally different take on the act of anal intercourse than the sort to which I had become accustomed. Become accustomed? My God what am I saying? I was still a beginner in the gay-sex stakes. It was now Sunday, and on Friday just ten days ago, I had had my first taste of anal sex when Paco Obregon, my school’s PE instructor had more or less raped me in his office, an act which I had thoroughly enjoyed, in spite of after having had my ass  severely paddled  for the Nth time beforehand.  An awful lot of water had flown under the bridge since then. I had been fucked by and had myself fucked Paco and Darren and the other members of the CCC myself of which I was now a fully initiated member. 

Lying there in bed with Kyle, with the exuberance of youth, I felt that I knew everything worth knowing about gay-sex. I was in such a confident mood that I felt able at that moment to climb every mountain, to slay every dragon, until I was suddenly brought back to reality by the chilling thought that my entire practical sex experience had taken place on JUST THREE DAYS over the last ten. In those three days, I had been privileged to pack in an unbelievable amount of practical gay-sexual experience. I had been fucked by and had personally fucked nine different guys, all of whom were older than me. Looked at like that it was no mean achievement for a schoolboy of 16, who until ten days ago had never shared his dick with anyone and who had got his thrills by jerking himself off.

I suppose I had undergone what might be called a three day, total immersion course in the elements of basic gay-sex. It could be said that I had had a surfeit of sex; but surfeit implies being satiated by an excessive amount, an overabundance, an oversupply of something; and satiated with sex, I was most certainly not. I lay there in bed contemplating what I was about to do next to the gorgeous Kyle, lying there beside me, begging me to fuck him, after a day which, by any standards had been characterised by not only excessive but also highly imaginative group sex.

I was never one to look back and think what might have been. I saw that my recent experiences had shown me in my true light for what I, in fact was, and would be for the rest of my life: an active gay man who loved sex. I knew now quite definitely that as a sexually exceptionally well-endowed young adolescent, who had taken to gay-sex like a duck takes to water, that my future would be in a world of men with the same sex orientation as myself.  I was still feeling as fresh as a daisy and raring to go, as I looked longingly at the beautiful Kyle lying there beside me.

Of course he was right; just lying there beside this sexually super-attractive, young man, had already re-aroused my sexual desire which, as ever, had manifested itself in the form of an uncontrollable  boner between my legs. Still waters evidently ran deep in Kyle, for I would never have even thought of slamming my cock in to his ass in the way he obviously wanted. Anyway, Kyle was quite right about my readiness for sex again; I was hot and randy and ready for a fuck; so if he wanted me to quasi-rape him, why not? I had, in fact, already acquired a taste for rough sex; but rough sex with a proviso; I never lost sight of what was to become my life-long mantra, which I was to find a hard task-master, difficult always to obey: the permanent guiding light of my sex life: fucking was a partnership and both partners had to emerge satisfied. In my view the key to it all was: FwC: Fuck with a Conscience, a catchy phrase, which I have just coined, to express my philosophy.

I made as if to reach over to the table for another Trojan, to be stopped in my tracks dead in my tracks by Kyle, who said: “Liam I am clean as I believe you are; so let’s do it bareback. I find bareback sex so much more stimulating than using a condom.” 

I have to say that from my limited experience, I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Having said this, he bent over my erect member took it in his hand and proceeded to suck my cockhead, which I can tell you was by now swollen, in anticipation of things to come, to such a size as to be quite mouthful for anyone. Kyle managed, with his mouth, to get me well on my way to my own climax, before he reached for a tube of lubricant from the bedside table. He unhurriedly proceeded to anoint my primed cannon liberally with the lubricating cream. My cock, which, as ever eager for action was already dripping the first few drops of precum at the thought of pleasures to come, Kyle then took my tumescent erection his hand, and anointed it liberally with lubricant, somehow managing to imbue this simple act with an almost religious significance.

“There, Liam, that I think, should do it. Now, my young friend, go to it; you are free to do your worst; or should I say your best? I want to feel I have been brutalised by your magnificent dick; so don’t hold back.”

Given such clear instructions, I went ahead and did as he had said. He wanted rough sex and, believe me, my cock was more than ready and willing to fulfil his wishes. There had been no discussion as to the position in which he wished me to take him in this simulated rape exercise; but as he lay on his back on the bed, I assumed that he wanted a face-to-face confrontation; he wanted to see his violator in action. I knelt in front of him on the bed, lifted up his legs, and forced him to adopt what I can but describe as an egg position, with his legs torso, more or less across his shoulders. His anus was thus completely exposed to the ministrations of my 10 inch cannon.

Still pressing his legs down across his body, I took him at his word and with no preliminaries, thrust my rock-hard member straight into his undefended anus. I had already seen that when it came to anal sphincter control, Kyle was no Darrren or Antwon; thus the force of my cock made short shrift of the resistance that a guy’s anal muscles automatically offer to the entry of any foreign body, which they take as an invader, whether invited or not by their master. As I forcibly penetrated him, he said: Yes, that’s it, Liam; that’s exactly what I want.

With his obvious approval, I then went ahead and gave his ass the brutal battering he had requested. Thanks to his oral work on my cock, combined with the lubrication he had applied himself, I had already been in such a state of sexual arousal, that my cock was already dripping precum before I actually penetrated him. So, my initial battering of his ass was short-lived as I could not stop myself climaxing. Once I realised the inevitable was nigh, I withdrew my member completely from Kyle’s anus and then, with one final forceful thrust, accompanied by audible panting and words of encouragement  from my partner, I forcibly sank my meat again inside him and shot my load into the innermost depths of his rectum.

It was, of course, an exquisite experience for me; but when is the moment of orgasm, however produced, ever not? And, for me, the cream on the cake, because of the fact that I was fucking Kyle bareback, he received a living part of me, my sperm, into his body. Thus, this leaving of a trace of myself inside him, somehow gave me a feeling of consolidating a new friendship.  It was at that moment, halfway through the simulated act of rape on Kyle, that it suddenly hit me: at heart, I was a romantic.

But my ever present conscience was there, telling me that I could not stop there; I had only satisfied myself and the job was only half-done. In my fast developing code of of sexual manners, when it came to fucking, I already felt duty bound to satisfy Kyle, my partner, as well as myself.  As I took up my battering of Kyle’s ass, where I had left off, I reflected how easy it seemed for me to bring myself to orgasm by fucking my partner. I failed to understand why the top partners in most porn videos of gay-sex – and I had seen plenty to be able to generalise – never seemed able to bring even themselves to orgasm, let alone satisfy their bottom partners. Both top and bottom inevitably seem to finish up facing each other, jerking themselves off manually to achieve their climax.  For me achieving orgasm for myself by fucking someone, seemed as easy as falling off a log, However, I did see that for a top to fuck his bottom partner through to orgasm was not quite so evident.

But philosophising apart, I knew that my most immediate task was to take Kyle to his own orgasm, in the tough and brutal way he had requested. Therefore I continued to batter his ass with my cock, which, after so much disappointment in its earlier life, where, like a disobedient dog, I had been forced so often to bring it to heel, it was now having an absolute field day: its moment of glory as it gave Kyle’s ass absolute hell.  It took quite some time to take Kyle through to his own climax, but when it came, it was with an explosive ejaculation of his thick sperm, which I took all over my chest and face.  I was sweating like a bull and felt utterly drained after the effort I had expended in my pseudo-raping of Kyle. I allowed him to unfold himself from the egg position in which I had been fucking him and then collapsed face down on him, still lying there flat on his back.

We remained like that for about ten minutes, clinging to each other like limpets. Then Kyle suddenly rolled me over, stood up and pulled me to my feet, saying: “Liam that was easily the best fuck I have ever had in my life and certainly I have never had my hole stretched by a bigger or better piece of meat. I have taken plenty of cock up my ass in my time, but yours is the all-time winner. Not only do you have a magnificent dick by any standards, but you also know how use it to please your partner.  Liam, you are certainly the best butt fucker I have ever experienced; you are just one of the all-time greats; and believe me, I do know what I am talking about. You are also living proof of the old mantra that size does matter; when it comes to fucking, a big cock beats a little one every time!”

“Frankly I think you will prove to be the new star of the CCC and your cock will be in great demand. At the next election, I would not at all be surprised to see you displace our esteemed chairman, Paco, from the top position which he has held since our little club was founded about three years ago. Come on, Liam, move your ass, boy; we both need a shower after that and I am very hungry. Let’s wash off the sweat of a day’s work well-done and go and get a hamburger.”

I was not sure after we left the hamburger joint what would happen next. But Kyle was obviously intent on continuing where we had left off. We went back to his pad, where, as I was quite worn out by my effort with the rough time I had given him earlier, he undressed me again, pushed down onto his bed and very gently fucked me. The rest of the evening was the absolute antithesis of the rough and vigorous sex which we had enjoyed earlier. 

My introduction to sex with Paco and the other members of the CCC had been motivated by sheer lust. Now, however, alone with Kyle, as we had both exhausted ourselves earlier, we now kissed, sucked and fucked each other in a gentle and loving sort of way: the absolute antithesis of the rough way in which I had fucked him earlier.  It was, for me, a revelation of one of the many different approaches to gay-sex. 

My first desire for sex had been motivated purely by lust for Paco.  I had mentally, privately lusted after him for months. But as I was a schoolboy and he a master, I had been unable to turn my fantasies into reality.  Realistically, even if I had had the opportunity, as an inexperienced virgin, I doubt that I would have known how. But when Paco finally cracked and gave way to his innermost desire and robbed my anal virginity, he told me that he too, had for some time had a reciprocal sexual fixation on me. Love had nothing to do with how I came to allow Paco to take my anal virginity from me; for that is actually what he did. I did nothing to stop him, as I had long been lusting over his body.  Nor had it anything to do with my initiation into the CCC. The sole motivation behind my introduction to gay-sex was lust on all sides. Paco and Darren had clearly found love together. But over and above their obvious love for each other they were both still prepared to satisfy their animal instincts with other partners, which was the sole raison d’être of the CCC.

But lying there gently making love with Kyle, was a completely new experience for me and showed me one of the many different faces of gay-sex. I do not say that Kyle had fallen in love with me or I with him; but what we were now doing together was making love; enjoying the intimate exploration of the other’s body, which was totally new for me.  I am not sure how many times we penetrated each other during the evening, but it was suddenly eleven o’clock and I made as if I had to leave.

However, as I reluctantly wrenched myself away from Kyle – yes that is the correct word; for it was a wrench for me to call a halt to what we had been doing more-or-less non-stop together for several hours – he grabbed my arm, pulled me back into bed and said: “Liam, unless you absolutely have to go home now, you can stay here and sleep with me tonight.” This was something I had never even considered. But as I had the tacit agreement with my sister that, even though only 16, I was free to pursue my own life as I saw fit, I decided to accept Kyle’s offer of a bed for the night, so to speak, and allowed myself, willingly, I might add, to be drawn back into his sexual embrace.

This was the first time I had knowingly and willingly shared a bed with anyone. I discounted waking up in bed with Darren, as I had no idea how we had come to be in bed together in the very apartment where he was living as an item with Paco. Sleeping with Kyle, when it finally came, was a first for me. As he pulled me back towards himself,  it was obvious that Kyle wanted to continue where we had, just a few moments ago, broken off.  It must have been one or even later in the morning before we finally separated from each other after several hours of gentle love-making, which I admit I thoroughly enjoyed, fell asleep. 

Next morning was Monday: a school day; I awoke late with a start, took a quick shower and without breakfast, rushed to get the bus down to the south side to arrive at school just in time. As I took my seat in the classroom, I swelled internally with that feeling of superiority of what I had achieved and how radically my life had changed in the last two weeks. It’s quite amazing what coming to terms with my own sexuality had done for my self-esteem. The sexual ability I had gained from my brief but intense encounter with the raw reality of gay-sex had given me a feeling confidence in myself. As I looked around at my classmates, I felt ready to take on on all comers.

CHAPTER 11.  

I more or less had sex on every occasion I could during my final two years at high-school. Kyle was my most frequent, but by no means my only partner. After my in-depth introduction into the world of gay-sex by Paco Obregon and his cohorts and my initiation into the CCC sex club, my cock, finally released from its hitherto forced bondage, had an absolute field day.  It rose gallantly to every challenge and never let me down on any occasion where its services were needed; which I can tell you was pretty often.

My sex life during my final two years at school can best be described, in academic terms, as the repetitive conjugation of the verb to fuck in the active and passive voices. For those of my readers who are – to coin a phrase – grammar-challenged, what I am saying is that I myself was regularly fucked (active) and equally regularly was fucked (passive). I counted myself very fortunate to belong to that happy group of guys of the same sexual persuasion as me, who enjoyed equally being either top or bottom in any act. I was, therefore soon recognised as not only a highly competent cocksman myself, but one who was also very adaptable. In the words of Paco Obregon, of which I now saw the fell significance: I was a sensationally good fuck.

I had never had any sexual encounter with any of my schoolmates prior to losing my anal virginity to Paco Obregon.  I had correctly thought that I was the only gay man in my class. However, I was soon to discover that I was not the only gay pupil in the school. I had for quite some time the previous year been using the gym after classes had finished of the day, as I had already, aged 15,  been bitten by the body-building bug. It was on the first Friday afternoon in the new term that I once again found myself alone in the shower after one of my regular workouts in the gym. To my surprise I was shortly joined by a guy named Sean Sullivan, whom I only vaguely knew as he was a year ahead of me at school.

Looking at him as he nonchalantly stripped of his training gear and joined me under the shower, I saw, that like me that me he was someone who took pride in his physical appearance and was not at all embarrassed to find someone already in the showers to whom he could show himself off; and Sean Sullivan he really did have something to show off.

It is quite amazing what one year’s difference in age makes to a young man in his late teens; his body suddenly turns from that of a boy and fills out into that of a young man. And Sean Sullivan possessed what every young guy hopes he will have one day:  a mind-bendingly massive, well-proportioned cock: a fuck-stick to die for. I desperately hoped that by this time next year, with my dedication to regular body-building exercise, I would look similar to him.

I am sure that readers will already see where this is heading. I was completely taken by the beauty of Sean’s masculine attributes: so much so that my own, not insignificant cannon had already started, as was its wont, on its upward journey, hoping that it would be called into active service. Sean looked at me and at my burgeoning erection and said: “Well, well, well!  Your dick is obviously crying out for a little TLC; so why don’t I do the honours and oblige it?” 

Then before I could say anything, he was on his knees in front of me, under the running water, and had taken my knob in his mouth. He was obviously a guy who was experienced at oral sex, for within one minute he had sucked and licked my willing member to the stage where it was already oozing precum. Our joint delight at our impromptu meeting was cut short, as a loud and angry voice from the doorway suddenly yelled at us: “What on earth are you boys doing? Stop your disgusting activity immediately; dry yourselves off; get dressed and report to my office immediately.”

What precisely Homer Vollands, the school’s principal, was doing still there late on a Friday afternoon and why he had chosen to visit the shower room was a mystery. But the fact of the matter was that he had and had caught Sean and me, for want of a better phrase to describe what we had been doing, at it! As we walked, with some trepidation, towards his office, Sean looked at me and said: “Sorry, brother; it’s my entire fault. But you must know that you have an absolutely irresistible dick, which I know is cold comfort when I see the hole into which I have just got both of us. I guess the old sod is going to give our asses the most almighty paddling for what I am sure he sees as our sins.”

To say that the principal was seething with rage as we stood before him in his office was putting it mildly. Our actions having lit what was anyway his short fuse, he verbally exploded before Sean and me as if we had committed a major crime akin to murder. He called us every name in the book used vulgarly to describe homosexuals. We were a pair of perverts; debauched, depraved, debased, warped, corrupt sodomites who would burn in hell; at least that is what we would do if he, Homer Vollands had anything to do with it.

Listening to his verbal diatribe I wondered what he would have thought of my initiation to gay initiation to gay-sex by Paco Obregon, a member of his teaching staff. He would certainly have figuratively hit the ceiling. Finally he came to the point to which verbal harangue had been leading: retribution for our sins: “Take off your trousers and underpants both of you.”

Sean looked at him and said: “Here, sir, both of us together, in front of you and each other; that would be positively indecent sir.” How he kept a straight face as he uttered these butter-would-not-melt-in-his words, I have no idea.

“Sullivan, hold your tongue, boy: I, and I alone decide what is and what is not decent in this establishment. How you can possibly feel that baring your asses for punishment is indecent after what I caught you two doing in the shower; it sounds to me like a case of the pot calling the kettle black. Now, I have given you an order; so unless you wish your punishment to be doubled, do as I say. I will not have my decisions questioned by a pervert like you, Sullivan.”

We had no option but to obey him and there we finally stood, each of us with his cock embarrassingly erect, expecting the worst, which, when it finally came, was much, much worse than either of us could ever have imagined. On several occasions previously, I had been paddled by the principal, but never before on my bare ass.

But my heart missed a beat as the Principal withdrew from a long drawer in his desk, not only a formidable paddle but also an old cut-throat razor strop; you know, one of those belt-like things used in bygone days to keep an edge on the cut-throat razors then in general use for shaving. Nor was the paddle the usual regulation model he used almost daily in his efforts to correct some errant pupil or other. It had a much longer handle than normal, was made of some heavy hardwood, well over an inch thick and drilled with many holes to ensure that no cushion of air remained to soften the blow when it mated with the bare ass of its victim. Taken together, the strop and the formidable paddle filled me with fear of what was about to happen to us. I regret to have to say that things came to pass exactly as I had imagined.

“You first, Doyle,” the Principal snarled at me, pointing to the table across which his victims were forced to bend to present their backsides to him for paddling, “You’ve been here before, Doyle, so you can show Mr. Sullivan here the ropes. You know the form, boy; bend across the table and keep perfectly still until I tell you otherwise.” After ten almighty swipes with that fearfully painful razor-strop, I was told to stand up. I do not have to tell you that by then my ass was on fire, as our sadistic Principal had put the heart and soul of a man possessed by the devil into wielding the strop. It was quite obvious that he was enjoying every minute of flogging my bare buttocks. I was then forced to stand there and watch Sean Sullivan receive the same treatment.

But our beloved Principal obviously thought that a stropping was not enough punishment for our sins. Sean and I were again successively ordered to bend across the table when our asses, already flaming with pain, were each treated to ten powerful strokes of that long-handle, extra-heavy paddle. We both left the Principal’s office with excruciatingly painful backsides.  I’ll say this about Homer Vollands; he was an absolute crack when it came to flogging his pupils. I think I can safely speak for both of us, when I say that Sean Sullivan and I had suffered the most painful thrashing of our lives that Friday afternoon; speaking for myself, I know I certainly had.

Thrown together,  by chance and being obviously physically attracted to one another as we had been, now together in adversity, Sean suggested that we go back to his place, which was within walking distance of the school.  “My parents both work evenings; my father at Donnelley’s the printers and my mother in a bakery. Neither of them is ever home before midnight, so we will have the place to ourselves for a few hours. So, come on, Liam, let’s go to my place and lick our wounds and commiserate together. I’ll try and make it up to you for the painful mess we are now in, for which I take the entire responsibility”

After his impromptu performance on my cock in the shower, which had resulted in the painful state, in which we now were, it did not require much imagination to envisage what wound-licking, mutual commiserating and making-up with Sean would involve.  Of course, I accepted his invitation and looked forward to what I correctly anticipated would be an evening of sex with this super-attractive school mate, whom I barely knew, but who would be the first guy, with whom I would probably now have sex, to whom I had not been introduced by Paco Obregon.

Was I surprised on arriving at Sean’s house, that within five minutes we found ourselves looking at each other stripped naked in his bedroom? Of course I was not; indeed, I would would have been surprised if anything other had happened, as I sensed that we were both eager to take up where we had been so rudely interrupted in our first communion together. Before getting to the as yet unspoken real business of the evening, we did each examine the ass of the other. I regret to say that Homer Vollands had done his worst with his strop and paddle and had left each of us with a flaming hot pair of crimson buns; so hot that they metaphorically almost burned any finger which touched them. I exaggerate of course; but I can tell you that we were both supporting the most painful backsides imaginable. I doubt whether either of us had ever before felt such pain. I know I certainly had not.

You might well ask yourselves how we intended to satisfy our burning sexual urges on each other if we were in such pain. Well all I can say is that sex is such a persuasive force that it wins every contest. It was inevitable that Sean and I would suffer enormous additional pain if we indulged in anal sex. But when push came to shove, which it inevitably did, we both knew that we would endure whatever came our way, to satisfy the unstoppable, voracious animal which sex is.

Sean, with no hesitation, fell immediately to his knees and took up sucking my cock where he had been forced to leave off in the shower. He proved to be expert with his mouth: after tantalisingly titillating my tits with the tip of his tongue, leaving them rock-hard and erect, he descended to my cockhead, where he showed me what an expert he was in the art of fellatio, by bringing me quickly to the very edge of orgasm. But then, just as I thought I could stand the mounting tension no further, he suddenly abandoned my cockhead  and clearly intending to prolong my obvious pleasure at what he was doing to me – I should really have said what he was doing for me, as I was the sole beneficiary of his entire efforts – he transferred his attention to my shaft, which he licked from top to bottom with his tongue together with my balls,  arousing me still further, if that was even possible, sending me into still further paroxysms of pleasure.

He then returned to my cock head, which he again took fully into his mouth, at which moment I could hold myself back no longer; I figuratively exploded in a torrent of orgasmic sperm, half of which he took down his throat and half of which I splattered over his face in a series of powerful ejaculative jerks. It was, for me at least, an utterly heavenly moment as I had never before been brought to orgasm other than through anal sex and solo five-fingered jerking.  Sean opened my eyes to an aspect of sex, whose potential I had never even known existed until I experienced it myself.

After that transcendental experience, I felt my cock urging me for some action. I whispered to Sean: “Sean, I cannot stop myself, after that, I simply have to fuck you, come what may. So please forgive me if forgive me if I cause your ass additional pain.”

“Go ahead,” he said, “I feel that I owe you one, for the pain we are both feeling right now. If I had not jumped on you in the showers, none of what subsequently happened would have taken place. And anyway, I’m feeling very horny right now; so after the hell we have just been through with that sod, Vollands, what the fuck is a little more pain if it give both of us pleasure.  I can tell you, Liam, you have the biggest fuck-stick I have ever seen and I cannot wait to take it up my ass.  So go ahead and fuck the living daylights out me; it’s what we both deserve, especially you. But before you do, reach over to the bedside table and get the tube of lubricant from the top drawer; we might as well make or first union as comfortable as possible under the present, painful circumstances.”

I did what he had told me to do. I found the lubricant among a number of loose packets of Trojan condoms, indicating that I was not the first guy to share Sean’s bed with him. I held one of the Trojans up questioningly in front of him; but he laughed me off, saying that our first union ought to be bareback: bare skin to bare skin. So I went ahead and shafted him. Sean proved to be an extremely good fuck, as he automatically gripped my dick with his anal muscle the whole time I was fucking him   I had begun our first union together with the sedulously good intention of being gentle with him. But I soon found that it was futile even to attempt to gainsay the peremptory authoritarian voice of sex and quickly found myself battering Sean’s ass as if there was to be no tomorrow. To use his words; I fucked the living daylights out of him.

Gone from my mind was any lofty thought of mutuality as I thrust my cock with ever increasing length and force in and out of his anus, until, when the moment of truth finally arrived for me, I could no longer hold myself back. I explosively achieved my second orgasm of the day, dumping what seemed like a never-ending load of my man-juice deep into Sean’s rectum. For me, it felt like the most sublime moment of my sex life to date. In all my previous experiences with members of the CCC, I had never enjoyed myself as much as I now had at Sean’s expense.  My ever present conscience made me feel ashamed of what I had just done, without any regard for my partner’s feelings. However, I need not have worried, as Sean flipped me over on the bed and took his revenge, equally vigorously, on my ass.

I was quickly to learn that Sean was a highly experienced and efficient cocksman. He quickly lubed himself up, shafted me and gave my ass as good, if not better, than I had just given his.  As, like a man possessed, Sean, battered my hole with unabated, self-orientated persistency, I discovered to my amazement that the intense pain in my buttocks faded into insignificance compared with the pleasure I was experiencing from the incessant, percussive reaming out of my hole by Sean’s cock. His technique was comparable to that of a pneumatic drill as he relentlessly battered my hole, without any apparent regard for my feelings. I am ashamed to say, for my sins, that I was enjoying enormously being battered by Sean. It was a totally exhilarating new experience for me: one which had nothing to do with love, but which was based on pure sexual lust of one man for another. 

But then I realised that I was equally guilty: I was the one who had initiated what we were doing; I had just battered Sean with the same lack of consideration for him as he was battering me. I found myself simultaneously hating and loving what we were doing to each other.  I finally acquiesced to reality and accepted the fact that I was in the process of discovering that sex had two quite different faces and that both were enjoyable, for quite different reasons. I hated myself for liking the rough, self-indulgent sex base purely on lust; but I could not deny the fact that I did; and if I were to deny that fact, I would be deluding myself.  In accepting this, I acknowledged to myself that I was just guy just like any other, with a libido over which I had little or no control, as I had just seen for myself in the way I had wantonly fucked Sean.

I realised that it was up to me to control how I handled my sexual relations with other guys. But already, deep down in my heart, I knew that rough sex without any consideration for my partner was a part of my life which was here to stay; I simply enjoyed it too much to renounce it. I had also practically forgotten that I had, at his express request, rough-fucked Kyle on Sunday evening; a request that had been made by him after he had watched me rough-fuck Antwon’s ass earlier in the afternoon of that same day.  By now, I was beginning to see that my high ideals about the mutuality of the sex act were probably a little too idealistic to be practical.

I had completely misjudged the uncontrollable passion that sex can arouse in a guy. I finally admitted to myself that the maxim of the Roman poet, Horace; Carpe diem – seize the day – which means that one should enjoy life while one can, was probably the right approach to gay-sex. There were occasions which called for mutuality and others where it was every man for himself and to hell with the partner’s feelings. Both, as I had already discovered from practical experience, were equally enjoyable; and I recognised that both were equally necessary to allow me personally to physically exercise my full sexual potential.

After Sean had finished working my ass over, we fell into each other’s arms and indulged in a bout of deep kissing and fondling of the other’s body.  As the night was still young and we both clearly had a lot of sexual mileage left in us, I decided to take the imitative and show Sean a completely different side to my sexual character. On my knees beside Sean, with him on his back, I systematically kissed his body starting with his nipples, working my way down to his cock, the head of which I finally took fully into my mouth and enjoyed, for the first time ever, the slightly fishy flavour of freshly exuded cum.  It was not my intention to suck him off, but essentially to show him how a long gentle fuck by the top, leading to orgasm for the bottom, could be just as satisfying for both parties as the rough stuff we had both just indulged in. In word, I wanted to make love to him.

I lay down beside him, lubed up my cock, which, as ever, was ready for service and raring to go.  I placed a pillow under his buttocks to raise them somewhat to give me better access to his anus and then laid myself on top of him. I had decided on such an awkward position to fuck him because I wanted our bodies to be as one; in intimate contact with each other throughout.  I penetrated him very gently, allowing him to enjoy the feeling of the substantial girth of my ten-inch, ram-rod of a penis filling his hole. As I slid myself inside him I felt him tense his anal muscles and grip my shaft, which augured well for a very satisfying fuck for both of us.

It had been my intention to hold myself back until I had taken him through to orgasm by my efforts alone. However, as I penetrated him, he grabbed his own cock in his right hand and prepared to jerk himself off whilst I was fucking him. I said to him, “Sean, please leave it all to me. Leave your cock alone and let me show you the miracle and pleasure of being taken taken to orgasm just by my efforts.”  Brave, braggadocio words from someone as new to the game of gay-sex as I was; but I said them with the impetuousness of youth, without ever thinking that hoping that I might become a cropper.

Of course, inevitably, I had not taken into account that what I was doing to Sean was arousing me sexually as well. So the inevitable happened; I could no longer control myself and, as ever, my thrusting automatically became ever swifter and more powerful, taking me to a stage where I could hold myself back no longer and I shot my load with some considerable force into Sean. However, after a moment’s panic that I had blown it, I redeemed myself by resuming my efforts where I had just left off and was able to take Sean through to his own climax. He violently ejaculated great gobbets of his sperm all over himself, me and the bed. It was a climactically glorious moment for both of us, as I had managed, by my own efforts, to take Sean to his climax, which was a first for him.

So in spite of the fact that my original intention of a long-slow, gentle fuck had gone awry, I was able to bask Sean’s verbal praise for my efforts. “Never before,” he said, “Have I been fucked through to orgasm without some considerable assistance from my own hand. Liam, you really are an extraordinary guy. Not only do you have a dick to die for, but you handle it like a real pro. You know how to share its capabilities with others, which is rare. As you will have realised by now, I am one of the smash and bang brigade; easy come, easy go; that’s me. But you, Liam, have taught me so much, for which I which I will be ever grateful. Now, come on, Liam, let me loose on your hole again to see if I have learned anything from you.”

We spent the rest the evening gently exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. The next thing I knew was when I awoke with a start to find it was six o’clock on Saturday morning. Sean was still asleep alongside me. Not surprisingly, exhausted by our non-stop sexual activities, we had fallen asleep and had slept together all night. Sean’s parents had obviously come in late and left him undisturbed. I gently woke him up, looked longingly at his body, reluctantly pulled on my clothes and crept quietly out of the house, without disturbing either Sean or his parents. I had no idea whether they knew that their son, aged only 17, was already a practising gay. But what the eye does not see the heart does not grieve; so far be it from me to break what I suspected might still be Sean’s secret.

What his parents would have thought had they found the two of us in bed together, heaven alone knows. I was glad I had told my sister everything and that she accepted me for what I was; it made for a peaceful and open life together. However, despite my stealthy departure, this was the beginning of a long and physically intimate friendship with Sean Sullivan, through whom I got to know quite a number of other gay young studs, on whom I was able to exercise and perfect my physical charms.

CHAPTER 12.

For the next two years, whilst I was still at school, I greatly enlarged my circles of gay friends. Until I met Sean and Kyle, my hands-on or perhaps better put, cock-in sexual experience had been limited to the few occasions on which I had had sex, both active and passive, with my co-members of the CCC. It was only with Sean and Kyle, whom I had met the CCC that I had truly been able to physically explore for myself, the fuller ramifications of the pleasures of gay-sex. Like anyone else I enjoy flattery and I was convinced that the accolades, which a few members of my very restrained circle with whom I had had sex, had showered upon me with were sincere; that I did in fact, have something special to bring to any union, not the least being my ten-inches of rock-hard man-meat. It would be foolish to pretend that I was unaware that I possessed a quite exceptional and formidable tool, which filled anyone who saw it with jealous admiration. In fact, I was inordinately proud of my endowment

I suppose, the best way to describe my final two years at school, apart from class work which bored me and developing my body to look like that of my idol and sexual mentor, Paco Obregon, was my growing dedication to the sex act, with which I rapidly became totally obsessed. I took to fucking and allowing myself to be fucked by other guys, as naturally as a duck takes to water.

From an initial nucleus of my new friends at the CCC, especially Kyle, with whom I became very close, and Sean, with whom I continued to share a very intimate sex life,  my circle of casual sexual acquaintance just grew like Topsy, who, in the novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, said: “I s'pect I just growed. Don't think nobody never made me." Well to paraphrase Topsy’s remark: Nobody never made me fuck; but I just did; and to excess, some people might have said; but I enjoyed myself enormously, as I copulated my way through one one-night-stand after another.

As I became bolder and started frequenting gay-bars on my own, of which there were quite a number available in Chicago, I discovered that I had what I can but describe as a magnetic quality about myself  which drew like-minded guys, in search of a quick no-questions-asked-no-holds-barred fuck, to me, like bees are drawn to honey. I never had any problem with finding a sex partner for a one-off fuck. My cock, with that mind of its own, which had for so long obliged me to keep it on a tight leash, until I was liberated by Paco Obregon from the tyranny of my anal virginity, had an absolute field day. I have to say, once liberated from its forced imprisonment, it never let me down; and as I approached my 18th birthday and would come of age, I saw that I too might, one day soon, achieve the illustrious high ground, presently dominated by that 12 rigid inches of Priapic flesh, Darren Joshua’s anus slaying cock.

I hasten to add, that my high principles of mutuality of the sex act were always temporarily suspended in such one-time liaisons, which were based purely in satisfying my unquenchable lust for anal sex. Whoever coined the phrase: sex is a toy which never fails to please, was dead right. However much I indulged myself, I always was ready for more.  To introduce a slightly clinical note into what was a spontaneous activity, which had become almost, but not quite, an involuntary reflex in me, I did still exert ultimate control over my insatiable lust for sex. And I should just add, that I always followed Paco’s dictum and used a condom whenever I had sex with an unknown partner; and, in the cases where my partner wanted to fuck me, I always insisted on his using one also.  In the spirit of always be prepared, I never went out without several packets of pre-lubricated, trusty Trojans on me.

I don’t think I have mentioned the fact before, but my birthday is on January 4th, making me always the oldest guy in my class. Now normally everyone who became aged 18 during the year would have left school in June or July. However, not being at all studious and basically hating school and anyway, not wanting to learn anything, I decided with no qualifications at all that I would chance my luck on the job market and took considerable pleasure in informing the school’s Principal, the hated Homer Vollands, that as I would be 18 years old by the time classes resumed in January, I would not be returning to school after the Christmas vacation.  I did not, however, apprise my sister of my somewhat precipitate decision as I wanted time to think through to what I was now going to do, of which I had not the slightest idea.

You might think that I more or less burned my boats on the home stretch at school; but I did not really have much of a boat to burn. Just think about it: except English language and literature, both of which I rather liked, my grades in practically every subject had always been universally abysmal; and they still were. Staying on until the summer, I would just have been marking time. I had no prospect of going to college, which even if I had managed to find a place to accept me, I could never have afforded.

Until now, it was my surrogate mother, my sister, Maureen, who had provided me with what little pocket money she could. I had supplemented my meagre allowance by filling-up shelves of a local supermarket for a few dollars on Saturday mornings. But I knew that when reached the age of 18, my majority, I could no longer, in all conscience, allow her to support me the way she had done, without complaint, since I was born.  It will come as no surprise to you to learn that I was a martyr to my conscience which was severe and omnipresent which kept me from doing a lot of things, which I might later have regretted.

I only subsequently discovered, quite by chance, that my other five sisters, all of whom I barely knew, had, since my father’s death, regularly chipped in to finance my upkeep.  I unkindly thought of it as guilty conscience money, for having left Maureen, their eldest sister to look after both my father – our father, I should say – and me. However, I was relieved to learn that Maureen had not had to bear the entire burden herself and that the concept of family solidarity was not dead, even though I hardly knew my benefactors.

It was in November, when, then aged 17,  I was in bed with Kyle, with whom I had become very close indeed, that I told him my decision to leave school and find a job – any job at all– to begin with. As you already know, Kyle worked as an assistant trainer in a local gym; as such he had his finger on the pulse of what was happening sexually around the city and elsewhere. On hearing my news that I intended to leave school before Christmas, he suggested to me that we have one last fling together, was the way he put it, before I put my nose to the grindstone.  “After all,” he reasoned, “What difference would a few days vacation together make to my job prospects?”

Of course, I immediately agreed, not having any idea where either he or I would get the money for our so-called last fling, or what we would do on our last fling together. Come to think about it, I did not recall ever having had a previous fling, or indeed any kind of fling, with Kyle; or anybody else for that matter, other than group sex sessions with other members of the CCC. But as I was shortly to learn, that run-of- the-mill-stuff, as he called our sexual activities, was not at all what he had in mind. 

When I heard what Kyle had to say, I could hardly believe my ears; it just seemed too good to be true. Not only were we to spend ten days together in a subtropical paradise with unlimited opportunities for male-male sex laid on – note I have said male-male sex rather than gay-sex, for a very good reason, which will become apparent below, but we were to be paid $1000 each for it.

“Look here, Liam,” he said, “The gym has received this urgent flyer from a nude, men’s sex resort, called Paradise Island, located on a privately owned, sub-tropical island some 20 miles off the US coast in Key West in Florida. It is promoting an exclusive package under banner: Men’s Christmas Exclusive: Twelve glorious days of sea, sun and sex. Arrive December 23 – Depart January 3.  The owner of the gym, where I work here in town, who, by the way, is as fruity as we ourselves are, knows the owner of this place and says the offer is 100% legit.”

“If we sign up, the deal is we get the return plane tickets and $1000 cash up front. All we need to do is to get ourselves to Chicago O’Hare in time for the flight to Miami on the morning of December 23. We don’t even need any clothes, other than those we travel  in, as once on the island, everyone staff, guests and assistants, like us are all naked, all the time. Fret not, my friend as the place is subtropical and there is no risk of you catching a cold!”

“This outfit, which calls itself Vacations for Men, has sold the concept of ten days of sun, sea and sex, especially the latter, to 200 young, well heeled, young American businessmen or playboys, a mix of gay,  bi, or even straight guys, looking for a sexual thrill, all of whom have the sort of money to be able and willing to pay $1000 a day for ten days over Christmas and the New Year, to have their asses and dicks  pampered by a bevy of handsome young muscular studs such as you and me.  What’s not to like about that? Don’t you realise, Liam, these guys are taking in $2 million for the ten days; so they can well afford to pay 20 or so studs like us  $1000  each plus travel costs, to titillate their guests’ jaded palates; or perhaps I should say their anuses and penises? So, can I take it you are in, Liam?”

How could I not be in, as he so succinctly put it, with such a juicy offer of being paid for ten days non-stop sex in the sun?  $1000 was more money than I had ever seen in my life. But, sceptical as ever, of what appeared to be too good to be true, I said: “OK, Kyle, sign me up; but I’ll believe it when I see the return plane tickets and the $1000 cash up front; and how if I might ask, is that side of things to be handled? I don’t fancy being stranded, even in a warm climate, more than a thousand miles from home.”

Kyle laughed: “Liam, you really do want chapter and verse, don’t you? Well that side of things as you put, it will be handled by my boss, Max Connolly, the owner of the gym. I suspect he may be in on the deal as he has given me two weeks paid leave to participate in this gathering.  By the way, as I said, he’s one of us, who has always kept his word in the past and I trust him completely; Liam, I am sure as anyone ever can be that he will deliver.”

“And, Liam, to anticipate your next question and satisfy your pruriently curious mind, yes, I have had sex with him on a few occasions and he is a good fuck, but not to be compared with you, either coming or going!. Oh, just one other thing: you need to turn up at the gym on Monday night, as we are having our photos taken professionally in the altogether, as the promoters would like to see what they are getting for 1000 bucks a throw.”

Kyle continued: “Fear not, my friend; with my good looks and inimitable charm and your oversized dick and sexy muscles, we’re a dead cert to be accepted. You’ll see: they’ll be drooling over us, just as we do over ourselves. In fact, Liam, I suspect you might just be the top-cock of the entire team, thanks to that incredible piece of man-meat of yours between your legs. You and I, my friend, are going to have a very Merry Christmas and see in a Happy New Year. Just think of it, 200 guys just waiting to fuck and be fucked; we are going to have an absolute ball!”

To use a biblical turn of phrase, which somehow implies that I had been a doubting Thomas, which I guess I had; “And lo, it came to pass” just as Kyle had predicted it would. In spite of my fears, the return plane tickets to Miami arrived and Kyle’s boss handed each of us 10 crisp $100 bills. As Kyle had said the only thing was to get ourselves to O’Hare Airport in time for the flight, which was at 7 a.m. I spent the previous night in bed with Kyle at his place. Next morning, at 5 a.m. with the gay abandon of two young men who had just come into what for them a small fortune, the taxi ordered the night before, arrived to take us to the airport. For both of us, it was an adventure, as neither of us had ever flown before.

On landing in Miami just over three hours later, we found a guy with a placard saying Paradise Island who handed us a pre-packed sandwich and told us we had to wait until what he called, the other temporary assistants, arrived from around the U.S. Eventually the entire complement of some 25 muscular young studs: white, black and brown, including Kyle and me, piled into an air-conditioned bus and were taken by road the 160 miles from Miami to Key West, where we arrived about four in the afternoon. From there we were taken by motor launch out to Paradise Island, which I can tell you, was an eye-opener; total nudity reigned from the moment we entered the reception building. 

Kyle and I, together with the group of other young men, most of whom did not yet know each other as they were from different areas of the country, walked from the arrival jetty to the reception building, where we were greeted by a number of male receptionists, all of whom were naked, which set the scene for our entire stay; clothes were not required; in fact better put, they were strictly forbidden; everybody:  guests, staff and we, the 25 young studs, who had just arrived, were to be totally naked for the whole time.  We shed our clothes, which were informed would be handed back to us on the day we departed We were each handed a pendant-like, gold-coloured medallion on a thin metal chain, which we were told to wear at all times around our necks, to distinguish us from the guests, whose sexual needs we had been recruited to serve.

CHAPTER 13.

So there we stood at the reception; a group of 25 naked, well-muscled, young guys who did not know each other from Adam, all of whom were sporting that sine qua non for the occasion, a generous sexual endowment, I am sure that any normal group of average young men placed precipitously in a similar position of being told to strip naked and just stand there, would have been red faced with embarrassment. However, given the job for which we had been recruited, nudity was par for the course. I suspect we were all curious – I know I was – to see what the competition looked like.

Now that I have said it, competition was probably the wrong word, as we were not competing against each other. However, at school and among my CCC friends, I had always been king-dick, apart from the super-well-endowed Darren of course; and I have to say that I enjoyed basking in the unconcealed admiration of guys with whom I had sex and who were astounded not only by the size of my man-meat, but also the way I knew how to use it.

I was forced, however, to swallow my pride when I saw that there was another guy, whom I later learned was called Alex, who had a penis worthy of Priapus himself, and which just might be bigger than mine. The moment I saw him, I was nervous that I risked being dethroned by him from my unofficial and unacknowledged position. Not that it amounted to a hill of beans, as he and I would be together only for a few days and would probably never meet again.

Nevertheless, I admit that just seeing the size of Alex’s dick had needled me beyond all telling and had dealt a severe blow to my pride to have some serious competition for the first time. I noticed, however, that he was as interested in my dick as I was in his; we each had our eyes focused on the other’s crown jewels. I guess he was obviously thinking the same thing about me.

We were still in the reception area in the main building where the communal rooms were located and where all meals were served. Additionally, there were several other attractive, one storey air-conditioned buildings, where the sleeping accommodation for both staff and guests was located. We were escorted to our sleeping quarters, where a group of five of us shared a room. Kyle and I, together with three guys, whom we had just met on arrival in Miami, were provided with a spacious room with five beds, adjacent to each of which was a bedside table, on which were sitting cartons of Trojans and tubes of Anolube, indicating that sex, the main purpose for which we had been recruited, was not to be limited to guests, but was silently encouraged among us.

I can tell you I was mightily relieved to see that Adam was not one of the three unknown guys allocated to our group. For me it would have been tantamount to adding insult to injury to have had to share a room with a stud, who had a cock potentially bigger than mine. I had become accustomed to the fact that at most gatherings, unless, of course, the formidable Darren was there, I was always king-cock. It would have been rubbing salt into what was already my potentially painfully wounded pride, to play second fiddle to a guy with a bigger dick than mine. We were left to settle in, was the way our escort put it, as he left us to our own devices, with instructions to be in the main building at 7 o’clock, when, before supper, we would be briefed as to our duties. Meanwhile, for the next hour or so, we were left to our own devices, as our escort sardonically remarked, free to get to know each other.

As a preliminary, Kyle and I exchanged first names with our three roommates, Al, Leo and Antonio; Al was white, Leo was black and and Antonio was a Latino. They were all extremely good-looking, well-hung muscular guys, around 20 years old. Kyle, a born organiser, took charge of proceedings. With five naked, well-hung studs together for the first time, all raring to go, as five prominent boners clearly indicated, he suggested that he and I, as the only two guys present to know each other previously, introduce ourselves to the other three in the traditional CCC manner.

We were obviously all young, experienced men of the gay world, so when it came to the innovative, CCC variant on anal sex that Kyle outlined, the others acquiesced easily. With no objections at all, they each leaned across a table and presented their asses to us for shafting; Kyle and I generously lubricated each guy’s anus with Anolube, and then, throwing caution to the winds, we gave each of our new companions, six powerful thrusts of our naked cocks, CCC style.  Then, in the inevitable quid pro quo that followed, Kyle and I allowed the other three to do the same to us.

Sexual handshakes over, Al, Leo and Antonio now really entered into the spirit of things and took over. With Kyle and me both still over the table, Al rough-fucked me while Leo rough-fucked Kyle, with   Antonio looking on hungrily. Al and Leo then reversed roles; so both Kyle and I had the pleasure of being fucked twice in quick succession. But it was not yet over, as Antonio wanted his pound of flesh. He sequentially fucked both Kyle and me bareback, while Al and Leo urged him on. I saw that this was carnal lust at its purest; Al, Leo and Antonio, who had never met each other until today, evidently all sang from the same hymn sheet and were interested only in their own satisfaction; the three of them did not give a toss for their partners.

After our three roommates had all exercised their cocks on both of us, time, that tyrant which perpetually governs our lives, forced Kyle and me to take a rain check until later that same evening, on the delicious prospect of showing our three roommates that we could give as well as we had taken and perhaps show our three new companions, as birds of passage ourselves a more mutually inclusive approach to anal sex.

We all reluctantly abandoned our mutual enjoyment, (yes; having one’s ass battered by a sizeable cock, is always enjoyable; even if, as just now had been the case, Kyle and I had been left somewhat unsatisfied, not having had our return) and returned to the main building for our briefing to learn exactly what services would be expected of us during the coming days.  I was confident from what has already passed among us, that Kyle and I would remain, for the entire vacation, what might best be called on a different wavelength to our three roommates.

However, both Kyle and I also knew a thing or two about rough sex which seemed to be the style of our three new acquaintances. On present evidence, as far as I could judge, we were in for a turbulent ten nights them and I could scarcely wait to get back from our briefing to show them that both Kyle and I had a different take on sex; even rough sex. In the event, as so often happens, things did not quite turn out as I had foreseen.

Greg, the guy in charge of our group of temporary sex-assistants was a magnificent stud in his own right, clearly capable doing himself what he expected of us. In keeping with the ethos of Paradise Island, he was completely naked and stood, unembarrassed, before us. It goes without saying that he possessed a monumental cock, which although well behaved at the moment, more than hinted at an unbelievably enormous, hard fuck-stick when aroused for action.

“Gentlemen, first allow me to welcome you here. My name is Greg and I am in charge of the day to day running of this place. Paradise Island is a discreet, deluxe retreat from everyday life where, in a totally male environment, free from the often pruriently salacious public eye, men of any persuasion can indulge their sexual fantasies with complete discretion The sexual acts, which you will both see and, as a major part of your duties, perform yourselves with the guests, for that is what you, as paid toy-boys are here to provide, are strictly private and must be treated as such by you.”

“So when you leave here, hopefully bearing an attractive tan, I must insist that you respect the terms of contract which you all signed. Quite specifically you will not discuss with any of even your closest friends back home, what passed during your, let us call it, end of year break, from your normal lives. In particular the identities of any of our guests, with whom you happen to become intimately familiar, over and above the sexual services you render them, must never be revealed to anyone once you leave here. Discretion is the keyword to this entire operation.”

“Why do I dwell on this point? For the simple reason that you are all handsome and sexually attractive young studs and it is more or less inevitable that certain of our guests, human nature being what it is, will develop a crush on certain of you and vice versa. Whilst we cannot forbid you from continuing relationships with clients once you leave this place, it is important that you understand that what has occurred here is kept strictly confidential once you leave.”

“Now to your duties: while you are here, you have all to consider yourselves as toy-boys: human playthings, which are at the disposal of our guests. Their every wish is your command. However strange things might sometimes appear you guys are here to please them; you are not here on vacation yourselves. You are here uniquely to meet our guests’ sexual wishes however outlandish and extreme they might seem; you are not here to satisfy your own personal sexual desires. If a guest wants you to fuck him, then you do just that. If he wants to fuck you, then you allow him access to your anus so that he can satisfy himself. We allow our guests complete freedom to indulge themselves and fulfil their wildest sexual fantasies; either among themselves, as they often do, or with your assistance.”

“No sexual acts, however bizarre they might appear, are forbidden anywhere inside the resort grounds, other than the fact that any form of sex is forbidden in both the salt and fresh water swimming pools. If a guest insists on having sex in water –and, believe me, it has happened in the past – then it has to take place in the sea itself, which is easily accessible from the beach, where a lifeguard is always on duty. Otherwise you may, at any guest’s request, indulge actively or passively with him in, copulating, screwing, shagging, banging or fucking  –  choose the word with which you personally feel most comfortable to describe the key sex act –  anywhere the guest wishes, in private or public on Paradise Island.”

“No sex act, however bizarre or offbeat, is forbidden anywhere, except in the two swimming pools. Here on Paradise Island, sex is given free rein to express itself anywhere, in all its many forms, unfettered by conventional restrictions of everyday everyday life. Here both the guests and you boys can indulge in sex beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Now to your working hours: You must each wear your pendant medallion around your neck, identifying you as a toy-boy to the guests, each day between nine in the morning and seven in the evening. So for 10 hours each day, you are at the beck and call of our guests and you must satisfy their every sexual wish, however weird. After seven in the evening, at which time supper is served, you are free for the night until next morning to amuse yourselves as you see fit.”

“There is nothing at all to stop you, if you wish, organising group gatherings among yourselves including guests. Most of your encounters during the day will be with guests on a one-to-one basis. But from past experience, I think you will find that many of our younger guests would appreciate the rough and tumble of a minor sex orgy, where group sex was on the agenda, for which you, the toy-boys call the shots. Always bear in mind that our guests have come here to briefly escape the chill of a northern winter and have sex in the southern sun. Sex, I can assure you, is the thing uppermost on their minds.”

“I should perhaps also warn you, some of our guests might enjoy being subjected to corporal punishment before sex. If any of you have an aversion to applying the paddle or cane to a guest’s naked ass, then I am sure that there are members among your group who will be delighted to lend a hand. Anyway, there is, here in the main building, a room set aside for just this purpose, with all the necessary accoutrements to enable you to flog the naked ass of a client before you fuck him.” 

“I should just add, that some clients do not even require post flogging sex; their pleasure is in the flogging itself. However, in my experience, most guests, who have an appetite for such, want first to be flogged and then fucked; it is their idea of heaven; and as they are paying to be here, we cannot gainsay them; judge them not: it is their choice. And remember always the old saying that one man’s meat is another man’s poison.”

“In your role of toy-boys, you do not have to submit your own asses to the corporal punishment from a guest, however much he would like to flog you. While you must submit yourselves to a guest’s sexual desires as part of your duties, you are not obliged to allow yourselves to be flogged prior to being fucked by him. It is truly a one way street for the guest; he can ask you to flog him, prior or not to sex; or even – and it had been known in the past – after sex. But no guest can oblige you to submit yourselves to any form of corporal punishment: it is strictly a one way street. Of course, if you are that way inclined, as I suspect some of you guys might be out of curiosity, then you are free, by private agreement, to submit your own ass to the tender, loving care of the guest and allow him to flog you; it is entirely between him and you.”

“Oh before I forget, there is a party planned for New Year’s Eve, to which everybody, guests, full- time staff, and of course you boys are invited. It will be a wild occasion with no-holds-barred non-stop sex.  But the highlight will be a professional stage show, the like of which none of you have ever never seen before. The management has engaged a group of professional body-builders with totally unbelievable, big cocks, to give a sex show on stage to ring in the New Year, I guarantee that you have never seen anything like it.”

“Well, that just about wraps up what I wanted to say; so if there are no questions  I suggest we go and have supper and then you will be free to do whatever you wish for the rest of the evening. Your duties begin at nine sharp tomorrow morning, at which time I expect to see you all bright eyed and bushy tailed with your cocks fit, ready and eager to go, as I am sure they will be in great demand for the very first moment the guests set eyes on you. Just let me say that I think that you are a tremendously eye-watering, well-equipped bunch of guys and I am sure you will each have a ball servicing the guests.”

As Greg was making his closing remarks, I noticed that his eyes appeared to be flicking from my cock to Alex’s, as if trying to assess which of us had the bigger tool. One thing was certain; both Alex and I were well ahead of the rest of the pack when it came to cock size. Of course, neither of us equalled Greg, who, with that monumental endowment between his legs, easily outranked us. He had, by a good margin, the biggest tool I had ever seen; but I somehow did not feel jealous of him in the way I had instantly felt on seeing Alex.  I asked myself why this was and came to the conclusion that as Greg was a staff member at the resort and was not part of our group and he would not be competing with us serving the guests with his howitzer of a sex cannon. 

I know it might sound ridiculous, as this was not a competition aimed at awarding a crown to the guy with the biggest dick, but I had already sensed a whiff of competitiveness in the air, as we, the toy-boys viewed each other’s credentials in detail for the first time. Whether acknowledged in some way or not, I wanted to feel personally that I had retained my position as top-cock, a position which had always enjoyed to date, in my two year long sex life.

CHAPTER 14.

It had been a long day for Kyle and me. We had been up at the crack of dawn in Chicago, which now, here in the warm southern air, seemed more than a thousand miles away, which, of course, it was. At supper – the food was very good indeed, as it deserved to be for guests shelling out $1000 a day – we met, for the first time some of the guests. Although we were not officially on duty until tomorrow morning, our three roommates had apparently already made arrangements to see – figuratively speaking – a group of guests after supper. So when Kyle and I, went back to our room we were able to forced, for amusement, into an evening of sex between ourselves.

I should tell you that Kyle and I have become very comfortable with each other when we are having sex, which is quite often; in fact, very often indeed. Irrespective of who is doing what to the other, we are both very polyvalent in our sex tastes and both enjoy taking as well as giving when we have sex together. It is as if we are putting on an old and comfortable pair of shoes, which we are loath to discard. It is thanks to Kyle’s patience, combined with our shared love of sex, which have, over the past two years, allowed me to pursue and perfect my search for that most elusive of objectives of gay-sex: the simultaneous orgasm of both partners to the act.

The expression, to perfect is perhaps an exaggeration, as my efforts often go awry. But when I achieve that magic, oft illusive, moment when we both explode together in a tsunami of simultaneously ejaculated semen, the satisfaction that it gives both of us is worth all the sweaty effort that it always demands. For me, the achievement of the simultaneous orgasm with any partner is the nec plus ultra: the absolute summa cum laude, sensual pinnacle of gay-sex.

In Chicago, both Kyle and I play the field, each of us unconsciously searching for that unique guy, with whom we will spend the rest of our lives. But at the end of the day, what we appreciate in each other is the permanence and reliability of our relationship, even though we both unspokenly know that it will end one day. However, for the moment, we both know that when our ships have been at sea in search for that illusive sunken treasure, they have a home port where they are always welcome. Kyle and I are the most faithful sex partners to each other. We can read each other like a book and we are able consistently to satisfy each other.

Although I think that we both know that we are, one day, destined to separate, when we each find that unique  person, who is made for us, we are, for the time being, happy together. Of course I realise that there are many guys out there, with whom each of us could fall in love and be perfectly happy. So that one unique person we are both looking for, is just one of many; but one of many who is difficult to find. But what remains unspoken between us is that we are ultimately destined to part, when the first one of us finds the love of his life.

However, as for the moment our life as a pair of super-active gay young studs, who please one another, suits us both down to the ground; why rock the boat? One day, one of us will have the unwelcome task of telling the other that he has found the perfect partner for himself and that our relationship has to change.  When it happens, I suppose it will be akin to a guy getting married and leaving home permanently to lead his own independent life. A wrench for many who are left behind; but that is how life evolves. I sincerely hope when the day of separation comes, that Kyle and I remain close and intimate friends, in much the same way that Darren and Paco, a firm item, still enjoy sex with me as a friend.

My silent philosophising to myself was suddenly brought to an end as someone knocked on the door of our room. I opened it and to my total and immense surprise found my potential nemesis, Alex, together with Greg our mentor, both resplendently naked and sporting cocks which already appeared to be preparing themselves for action. If not exactly erect, they left the observer – me – in no doubt as to their ultimate intention. Having figuratively scraped myself off the floor onto which I had metaphorically been thrown by the unexpected sight of two stunningly sexy young men on our doorstep, I invited them in.

Greg began: “Hi guys, we were at a loose end, and we thought that that we would just drop by and see if you were settling in OK and if there was anything we could do for you to make your first night on the island as enjoyable as possible, before you start your duties servicing our guests tomorrow morning. You both know me; I am Greg Saunders. One of my many jobs here is to see that the temporary staff, who are here over the vacation period, are properly looked after.”

“You met Alex at the briefing before supper. Alex also happens to be my cousin, who has joined us as a member of our team as a toy-boy to service the guests. As he arrived here early, two days ago from Seattle and as we had not seen each other for a year or so, he has been bunking with me to allow us to catch upon things.  We had heard that your other three roommates had made other arrangements for this evening with some of our guests, so we thought you two guys might welcome a bit of company.”

One did not have to be a genius to see the type of catching up which two sexy young studs had been engaged in and it was as plain as a pikestaff, why they were here now, as their cocks, those incontrollable pieces of meat between their legs were already blurting out the whole story. So on the principle: better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, I swallowed my pride and antagonism I felt towards Alex and invited them to stay. My present antipathy to Alex, if you could  call it that, was based on having seen him for a few minutes at the briefing meeting by Greg and was motivated purely by the jealously that he was a member of our toy-boy team, who might have a cock which might just conceivably outshine my own.

In fact, now that I saw him again face to face, even though his cock was rising in anticipative expectation of seeing active service, Alex somehow seemed less of a the threat to my position as top-cock, the purely fictive position which I had imagined myself occupying. We, the team of toy-boys were not in a competition with each other in any way at all; our job was purely to service the guests. Nevertheless, in view of the importance that I personally attached to the size of my dick, even to imagine that one of my teammates might outshine me in such a visually obvious way was a potential blow to my pride.

As Kyle and I stood there looking at the new arrivals, neither of us could control the arousal that the sight of two magnificent young studs induced in us, standing there naked in front of us, as they were, with their cocks already indicating their readiness for sex. Just looking at Alex, I had to admit, albeit grudgingly, to myself that in spite of my animosity towards him, the fact of the matter was that he was really a super-attractive, sexy guy with a large cock, which I found I was not only admiring, but also wanting to experience physically.

As for Greg, well, he had the biggest piece of man-meat I had ever seen in my life; and I had, in the last two years seen quite a lot.  Before our very eyes, Greg’s dick was fast reaching combat status and was already well over a foot long. He even outdid the redoubtable Darren, who until that moment was the guy who possessed the biggest fuck-stick I had ever seen.

As I looked at Greg, my thoughts flashed back to that moment, now two years ago, when had first seen Darren naked in Paco Obregon’s apartment. I had been terrified at the thought of taking Darren’s formidable cannon up my ass, whose virginity I had, just an hour earlier, surrendered to Paco. How my attitude had change with two years regular, intensive experience; I could now hardly wait to take Greg’s full-length inside of me.

Kyle broke the silence and said objectively, in his ever encouraging way: “Well guys, just from looking at each other, I guess our dicks are telling us what we all want, so why don’t we get down to it. The only question is, who is going to do what to whom in the first round this evening, which, from the amount of eager meat I see around me here, promises to be a quite a ball.  Liam, as a courtesy to our guests, I suggest that we let them decide whom they each wish to partner for – let us call it – the first waltz.”

No sooner were these words out of Kyle’s mouth, I was astounded to find that Alex, whom I had never even seen until about an hour ago, advanced stark-naked, with his hard cock, straight as a ramrod sticking out in front of him, put his arms round my shoulders, embraced me firmly and gave me a long, deep kiss on my mouth. This, the most intimate of contacts, in my view, more intimate than being penetrated by a guy’s cock, was made with great conviction, exactly as if we were lovers meeting again after some time apart; he had me in his arms and was hugging and kissing me before I could say a word.

However, as we were both naked and each sporting impressive boners, our cocks inevitably crossed and I felt my cockhead touch against Alex’s pelvis; but I was suddenly aware that the head of his cock was not touching me. My heart instantaneously filled with joy with the realisation that Alex’s cock was not, as I had feared, bigger than mine; in fact it was somewhat shorter; not much, but enough to assuage my uncontrollable jealously.  You cannot even begin to believe the relief, which flooded through my body, to learn that my cock was bigger than his.

Nevertheless, I had to be sure of this; so I disengaged myself from Alex’s embrace, grabbed our two rock-hard boners, which I held firmly parallel to each other in my right hand and pushed my pelvis forward until my cockhead was touching his pelvis.  Sure enough, in my firm grip, encompassing both rigid tools, his member, measured against mine, almost, but not quite, touched my pelvis. I was suddenly liberated from my worst fear and felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. 

I could again breathe easily, in the sure knowledge that Alex had not outshone me in the cock-stakes, which were, anyway, a pure figment of my imagination, and that I was still king-cock of our 25 man toy-boy team: a fact  unrecognised and unacknowledged by anyone but myself. It all did not amount to the proverbial hill of beans to anyone but me. But I can tell you, knowing that I still was the guy who possessed the biggest cock of our group, if only by a small margin, meant the world to me. Never a truer word was spoken than in the sentence: most men are desirous of having a large penis.

As things now developed, I was shortly to find out for myself just how experienced Alex was. I guess we both knew why I had pushed my cock against his pelvis, which Alex confirmed by whispering into my ear: “Now that you have satisfied your curiosity and confirmed to yourself the superior size of your dick over mine, do you think we can get on with the matter at hand and that I could fuck you, which is what I desperately want to do.”

Frankly, by this time, I was as hot for him as he evidently was for me. I took my hands off our two cocks; put my arms around Alex’s shoulders and returning his kiss, thereby putting my seal of approval on his intentions. In the close embrace, we edged towards my bed, onto which we fell flat, with Alex on top of me. By this time we were both leaking precum like it was going out of style, indicating our mutual willingness for what was inevitably about to happen.  Once he had seen my obvious desire, Alex did not mess around and showed himself to be a determined and experienced butt-fucker.

He quickly pulled himself up from me, leaving me flat on my back, forced my legs apart, knelt between them and took one over each of his shoulders, holding them firmly against his chest, thereby giving himself free access to my hole. Then, holding me in a vice-like grip with his arms around my thighs, with no hesitation at all, he thrust his rock-hard penis, dripping tap with precum, straight into my anus. There was no foreplay or need for pre-lubrication at all. Alex just forced the full length of his dead-straight, hard boner into my rectum. I doubt that he even felt the automatic resistance of my sphincter muscles as he thrust himself violently into my anus, presaging his entire approach what then followed.

Fortunately he was so sexually aroused that he was already leaking precum more-or-less continuously, which acted as a lubricant for the battering which followed. He paused for a brief moment after penetrating me, letting out a huge sigh of contentment, before beginning his task. Now there is rough fucking and rough fucking. But this was ROUGH FUCKING writ large, the likes of which I had never before experienced. I can tell you, I had experienced a lot in the last two years, between the ages of 16 and 18; so I counted myself as seasoned in all aspects of gay-sex. But never before had I experienced anything even vaguely approaching what Alex did to me.

Alex told me to hold by cock and balls out of the way, whilst he worked his magic on my ass: “I only want to fuck you, not castrate you in the process,” he said laughingly, as he set to and battered my ass with his dick. It was, without a shadow of doubt, the most intoxicatingly exhilarating experience of my sex life to date.  I almost said that Alex fucked me like an angel; but it would have been quite wrong to allude to him as one of such celestial beings. In fact, he fucked without pity and with no consideration for me, as I fancifully imagined the devil incarnate might do.

He used his rock-hard, ten-inch fuck-stick on my ass like a battering ram used to knock down a door during a police raid. I know; I know; I know; I have made a mountain out of a molehill, about the relative size of our respective cocks and that his was bit shorter than mine. But  referring to his ten inches was not a case of volte face by me;  I was generously giving him the benefit of the doubt, as I knew in my own mind that I was the unacknowledged primus inter pares – the first among equals – if  only by a fraction of an inch of our group of toy-boys.

As he fucked me, he relentlessly withdrew his cock completely from my anus, before thrusting it back with ever increasing power and speed. I realised that he was as good as raping me and that I could call a halt to what he was doing to me, which exceeded a simple fuck by miles. But the fact of the matter was that in spite of my own high ideals of mutuality of the gay-sex act, I was enjoying enormously what he was doing to me. This was rough sex at its extreme best: the roughest imaginable: quite the roughest I had ever experienced; but for my sins, I just lay back and enjoyed it. When he finally climaxed deep inside me, it was in a veritable tsunami of sperm. I had never in my sex life to date, experienced taking such an enormous amount of spunk in my rectum.

I had a brief few seconds to prepare myself for what was to be his great moment. As he withdrew for what was to be his final thrust, he hesitated slightly longer than usual, with his cock poised over my anus, before forcing himself to the hilt, back into my rectum. As he bottomed himself inside me for that last time, with his pelvis slammed firmly against my ass, I knew that his moment had come; and when it did, I had never in my life had such an intense sexual experience as when Alex figuratively exploded into his orgasm inside me.

He deposited his generous load deep into my rectum in a series of violent, uncontrolled jerks, which, as ever, were over in those few, brief, ecstatic moments of his orgasm.  But the effect on me, which Alex had achieved, just seemed to go on and on as he emptied himself into me. Although he had not succeeded in taking me through to my own climax, being fucked by Alex was one of the most memorable moments of my sex life ever.

But the assiduously vigorous attention Alex had lavished on my ass was not yet over. After a few seconds of rest, he again took up where he had just left off and again began battering my ass with his dick.  There was now however, a big difference; he was now thrusting and withdrawing from a passage super-well-lubricated with his own sperm that rendered every thrust of his member silkily smooth. He was just as vigorous in his efforts.  It was a heavenly experience for me as he continued to pound my ass with his dick, until he had achieved what I suddenly saw was now his intention: to take me too through to my own climax.

When he finally succeeded, I exploded into my own orgasm, as he had into his, with the most enormous emission of sperm I had ever experienced in my life. But, the icing on the cake was that as I climaxed and jerked my massive load of jism over our two chests, Alex suddenly and quite unexpectedly had his second climax and poured still more of himself into me. He had, quite by accident, achieved what I personally considered as the nec plus ultra, that absolute pinnacle of gay-sex: the simultaneous orgasm of top and bottom partners. Knowing this, somehow, increased my own enjoyment of the occasion. On a scale of 1 to 10, I rated this fuck as 11+: quite one of the best experiences, if not the very best, I have ever had. It goes without saying that in the interests of amicable harmony, I did not communicate my thoughts to Kyle! 

CHAPTER 15.

As Alex had just done to me with his cock, Greg had performed similarly, with his humdinger of a tribute to Priapus, on Kyle’s ass. After Alex was through battering my ass, I glanced across and saw at Kyle was just about to penetrate Greg, who was now on his knees on Kyle’s bed. As I watched Kyle slide his dead-straight, nine-inch boner into Greg’s anus, I saw from the resistance he was obviously encountering that Greg had already flexed his anal sphincter muscle to the limit and was gripping the Kyle’s invading dick as firmly as he could. He was obviously intent on extracting the last ounce of pleasure out of being fucked as possible.

I had fucked enough guys over the past two years to recognise a true pro when I saw one; and at first sight, watching Kyle penetrate him, Greg was certainly up there with the best of bottoms, intending, as he clearly was, to participate as actively as any bottom ever could, in its modest invisible way, to the success of the act being performed on his ass.

Just watching Kyle prepare to fuck Greg, was enough to give a clarion call to my own cock, which, with its usual candour, announced, in its inimitably strident way, straining at the leash, that it was time for its constitutional exercise. After all, it had sat quietly by, whilst Alex had battered my ass twice; so with some justification, rock-hard as it now was, it now wished to be released from its tether and given its place in the sun. 

As there were four of us, I saw no reason why, having finished our first round of business, Alex and I should not associate ourselves with what was going on between Kyle and Greg, with a view to increasing their pleasure by participating in it. So, without saying  a word to Alex, who was still sprawled across me, resting after his exhausting travails on my ass, I flipped us both over, stood up, pulling Alex to his feet with me. I gestured towards Kyle and Greg, where Kyle, having just taken Greg’s sizeable cannon up his ass, was now intent on showing him that he too was not incapable of giving his partner hell with his relatively more modest dick.

My cock, already oozing precum and well-nigh delirious with anticipation that its most earnest and immediate wish was about to be fulfilled, behaved impeccably as I slid its full ten inches smoothly into Kyle’s ass, its most regular port of call. Kyle paused momentarily in his stride, to allow me to bottom my pelvis against his ass, before resuming his resolutely vigorous thrusting into Greg. I quickly adapted myself to what Kyle was doing, timing my own thrusts to correspond with his withdrawals from Greg. Kyle, as he did whenever I fucked him, which was pretty often, gripped my cock firmly with his sphincter muscles to ensure we both got maximum enjoyment out of my efforts. As he was simultaneously being fucked by me whilst fucking Greg himself he had to work hard both on thrusting and withdrawing. 

I did not need to tell Alex, what his role was to be, in what was our first ménage à quatre – our first four-man effort – together. His own cock, not surprisingly after its strenuously superlative effort on my ass, had softened considerably and was clearly in need of a respite. This was provided by Greg, who willingly took Alex’s wilting tool into his mouth and greedily sucked it expertly back to its former rigid glory, as he himself was simultaneously being fucked by Kyle.

Just picture us, dear Reader, if you can; four naked, muscular young studs all well equipped sexually, united in a human chain. I had my cock in Kyle’s ass; Kyle had his in Greg’s who was sucking Alex’s cock back to health. I can tell you, in all honesty, that it was one of the most marvellous sexual experiences in my life to date.  The mythical Gods were with the four of us that evening. And if I cannot claim that we all climaxed together, we nevertheless all ejaculated generous quantities of sperm within a very short period of time, as we all kept on thrusting until the last of us had climaxed.

You might be forgiven for thinking that after such a massive copulative effort, we called it a night. Not a bit of it! Having got the bit between our teeth and comfortable with each other, thanks to our four-man effort, we fucked and sucked one another every which way, until by three in the morning we were so physically exhausted that we all fell asleep. Ask me not what we did both to and with each other. But I guess if it was physically possible we did it together.

I have retained only one clear memory of what happened after our four-man effort; I had the infinite pleasure of taking the full 13 inches of Greg’s monster piece of priapic meat up my ass. Although I desperately wanted the experience, I admit to being somewhat nervous when the tip of his formidable cock touched my anus, But like the true professional he was, Greg had lubricated my passage so thoroughly before penetrating me, that he slid his entire his 13 inches of rock-hard flesh into me, with one gentle thrust, in a smooth continuous movement. After that he showed himself to be a gentle giant. I can but describe that what he did to me as treating me exactly as if he were my life’s partner; trying to please me as much as himself.

Greg had that grasp of the importance of mutuality in the sex act, which, in my experience, few gay men ever have.  Although he did not manage to take me through to my own climax, in spite of his size – or possibly because of it – he used it with extreme gentleness and he himself managed to climax inside me, leaving behind a generous souvenir of his passage. In spite of having to satisfy myself by jerking off manually after he withdrew himself from me, I count this as one of the greatest sexual experiences of my life.  Certainly, it was the biggest cock I had ever taken up my ass.

CHAPTER 16.

I awoke with a start at seven next morning to find Kyle and myself in one bed, and Greg and Alex each still asleep in separate beds. As the other beds were vacant, evidently our four regular roommates had found alternative accommodation with the guests they had been serving last night. As it was warm, Greg was lying there on his back on top of the sheets totally naked, with his magnificent penis in full view. I marvelled at the perfection of his member, which even flaccid, as it then was, must have been ten inches long. I thought at the time that it was probably biggest piece of man-meat I would ever see in my life. But, as you will see later, I was to be proved totally wrong. The professional porn strippers hired for the live stage show of gay-sex on New Year’s Eve, put even Greg’s massive endowment in the shade.

I felt myself hardening, just at the sight of Greg lying there in the next bed. The imperatives of sexual attraction are so strong that they are hard to resist.  I silently left the sleeping Kyle, and laid myself down alongside the still sleeping Greg. Starting with his nipples, I gradually kissed my way down the full length of his torso until I reached reached the object of my desire, his dick, which in my eyes rivalled that of the mythical God Priapus, which I had seen in illustrations. 

By this time Greg was awake and as I glanced up his face he gave me a smile of approval. Emboldened by what I took to be his tacit approval, I proceeded more or less to devour his cock, which under the active ministrations of my tongue soon became hard.  I took his cockhead, already gleaming with precum, into my mouth and proceeded to suck him off.

Greg, cooperated eagerly in what I was doing to him and climaxed all too quickly, withdrawing his dick from my mouth at the precise moment he exploded into a veritable Niagara of sperm, which he forcefully ejaculated all over my face.  I was in seventh heaven. But I did not stop there with the job only half done as I flipped Greg over on the bed. Seeing my intention, he obligingly cooperated and adopted a kneeling position, spreading his legs to give me access to his anus.

Necessity, it is said, is the mother of invention. Consequently, in my haste to penetrate Greg, by way of lubricant, I smeared some of his own spunk from my face onto my cock, and with no hesitation thrust its 10 rigid inches with great force, straight into his expectantly willing anus. I freely admit that I was completely out of control of what I was doing, as I selfishly did not attempt to take him through to a second orgasm, but concentrated in satisfying myself with the primitive and raw sex of rough-fucking Greg with all the force I could muster.

I am ashamed to say that before I even began, I was in such an overheated state of arousal that I was no longer in control of my own actions, as I pumped Greg’s ass with my cock with uncontrolled fury. My only objective was to satisfy my own needs; for my sins, I did not give a fig for Greg’s feelings at that moment, as I fucked him with the fury of a man possessed by the devil. My own climax, when it finally came, was unbelievably intense. In those fleeting few seconds, seized by an orgasm more devastatingly intense than I could ever previously remember, I released all my pent up desire; and all the tension, which had been racking my body, disappeared. I pumped out what seemed like a never ending stream of my man-juice deep inside Greg.

Fucking Greg that morning was one of the most incredible sexual experiences I could ever remember. I think that the extreme pent-up desire I had had to have sex with Greg that morning, and his willing eagerness to cooperate with my obvious intentions, contributed, in no small measure to what, for me at least, had been an intoxicatingly pleasurable occasion. It was only after I had climaxed and was lying on top of Greg with my cock still deep inside him, that I suddenly felt ashamed that in my extreme haste I had abandoned all pretence of the guiding principle, which until then, I thought I had held most dear: the mutuality of the sex act. Note that I said: “I thought I had held most dear.”

That Greg had not shared in my moment of glory would be a constant, nagging source of regret to me for many days to come. I had abandoned all pretence of taking him through to his own orgasm, concentrating only on my own satisfaction. But was done was done and could not be undone; I knew that I was condemned to live with my conscience for many days, until the memory of the act faded over time, as memories tend to do.

However, what had just happened brought home to me with a vengeance that, in spite of my own high-minded ideals, I was just as prone as any man to the totally unpredictable and, once unleashed, the uncontrollable force of sexual desire. And to make matters worse, in spite of the retrospective, high-minded morality of my mental anguish, I realised that I had enjoyed what I had just done.

I decided finally, that I was perhaps being over-sensitive with myself about what I had just wreaked on Greg; he had not complained about being whipped by my cock and he seemed to have enjoyed our union as much as I had. And thinking back into my relatively recent past sexual escapades, I saw that I myself had enjoyed being both the purveyor and recipient of rough sex, even though it was the absolute antithesis of my high-minded ideals. So I decided that I would have to live with what I was now recognising was my split personality. When I was with people whom I knew and with whom I had regular sex, like Kyle, my closest and most regular partner, I was Dr. Jekyll; but I now realised that, if it suited me, as recent events testified, I could also Mr. Hyde.

I you can believe it, all the above thoughts, which must have been churning around in my head for quite some time before I acknowledged to myself, flashed through my head, lying there, in my post-copulative state, on top of Greg, with my cock still buried deep inside him. I suddenly remembered that today was the first official day of work, servicing the guests’ sexual desires and that we had better get the show on the road. Kyle and Alex were still both asleep as I disengaged myself from Greg and pulled Kyle, still half asleep up from the bed, propelling him towards the showers.

Whoever had designed our six-man bedroom, had taken account of the communality of the strictly enforced naked life-style on Paradise Island and had provided a capacious wet-room, with multiple shower-heads under which all six occupants of the room, could, if they so desired, shower and do other things together; which is exactly what happened.

We were soon joined by Alex and Greg and, as I am sure you have already imagined, it was not long before we found that the recent memories of last night were too strong to let go without some sort of a mutual parting gesture. So in a a few minutes of what I suppose might best be called a flurry of Auld Lang Syne nostalgia, recalling, in a very minor way, what we had done to each other the previous evening, we sort of pre-empted the climax of the New Year’s Eve celebrations which had been laid on for the guests. The four of us soaped up our cocks, all of which which had stiffened with eager anticipation, and were ready to play ball.

To paraphrase slightly, the words of that well-known song, we did not allow Auld acquaintance to be forgotten and never be brought to mind. Indeed we brought our very recent acquaintance to mind in a very real and dramatic way, by each of us giving the other three, six quick and forceful thrusts up their asses of our erect – to coin a Scottish word – cabers. Caber tossing it was not; but for all four off us to give the others the sexual equivalent of a parting handshake by fucking each other under the running water of the shower was a fitting  conclusion to a very enjoyable few hours together the previous evening.

This was the only occasion – but what an occasion it had been – during our stay on Paradise Island that Kyle and I got together with Greg and Alex for sex. Kyle and I never got to know our other four roommates; they always seemed to bunk elsewhere with guests, who had succumbed to their undoubted sexual charm. Nevertheless, our unexpected meeting with Greg and Alex, was, for us one of the highlights of our stay on the island.

CHAPTER 17.

After the evening spent with Alex and Greg, the job for which we had been recruited: servicing the sexual demands of the guests was somewhat super-demanding. First we were 25 toy-boys for some 200 men. So on average we potentially each had eight guests to satisfy every day.  Needless to say, things never work out so simply in action as they appear on paper. Alex and I, as the two studs with easily the biggest tools among the 25 of us, were snowed under with the request for our services.  I was constantly amazed by the number of guys who wanted to experience a massive piece of hard man-meat thrust up their asses.

I thought back to the fear I had personally felt when I was first faced with the prospect of taking Darren’s enormous fuck-stick up my own ass. But such considerations did not appear to deter many of the present guests. The other thing I found, was that although the guests could be seen fornicating freely among themselves, practically everywhere, few, if any, ever wanted to exercise their own dicks on either of us.  It was as if Alex and I were limited to being the prime movers in any sex act. I must say, it suited me just fine.

Alex and I found ourselves, rough fucking each of our – let us call them – clients, before moving straight on to the next.  Any semblance of mutuality in the sex act was lost in the sheer amount of copulation which we were required to do. On a typical l day, I found that I had had sex with 10 guests. Luckily, never a truer word was said about sex than is summed up in the phrase:  fucking is a toy which never fails to please. I am happy to say that as temporary, professional sex-workers, which I suppose was what all 25 of us had become for the duration of our stay, speaking for myself, I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of what I was doing. How I found the stamina to fuck one guy after the other, more or less non-stop, I have no idea. But I did; in fact, both Alex and I did. As a result of my day time labours, most evenings, after supper, I was relieved to relax in bed with Kyle. As ever, we found, in each other, our permanent refuge after a hard day’s labour,

The observant reader will have noticed that I said above: “Most evenings.” On one particular evening I was invited by a physically attractive young guy, whom I had fucked three times in three days, to come round to his room and have a drink with him after supper. This was the only evening on which I abandoned Kyle and left him to his own devices until much later.  In the event, it was to prove a totally unexpected life-changing moment for me. I had fully expected his man to want to have sex with me again. But I was so wrong Remember, like everyone on the island, we were both totally naked.

“Hi.…” He was obviously searching for a name, which he did not know. So I helped him and said: “Liam: Liam Doyle.”  He repeated his greeting, saying “Well, Hi again, Liam; my name is Ray: Raymond Winters; I am the finance director of – he named a company of which I had never heard – in Chicago. Correct me if I am wrong, but from your accent, I place you also as being from Chicago.” I confirmed that he was right in his supposition.

Ray continued: “Well, Liam, why don’t you sit down and let me offer you something to drink and then I will explain to you why I have invited you here this evening.” 

He offered me a variety of drinks; but as I do not much care for alcohol, I settled for a glass of sparkling water with a slice of lemon. Whilst he was pouring the drinks I took in the guy in front of me.  I remembered him well, as he had stood out from the other guests, whom I had serviced during my stay, as being someone who looked after his body. He was a handsome young man in his mid-twenties with muscles which testified to regular work-outs in a gym; and he had, to boot, a very attractive penis, beautifully cut, which had that all important quality I prize so greatly, which I call presence. He was nowhere near as big as me in the man-meat department; but his cock, which was flaccid at the moment, curved down gracefully over his balls.  All in all Ray was an attractive looking young stud and an appealing potential sex partner in his own right, whom I had greatly enjoyed fucking as part of my official duties on the Island.

Ray now explained the reason for his invitation: “Liam, let me lay my cards on the table. Believe me, I am not trying to flatter you when I say in all honesty, that you are light years ahead of any other of your toy-boy companions – I think that is what you guys are called here on the Island –when it comes to delivering the goods. You, Liam, are the most consummate cocksman I have ever experienced. And believe me, I have taken a great number of different cocks of all shapes, sizes and colour up my ass in search of the perfect fuck. Today, in you, Liam, I think I have found it. When I heard your broad mid-west Chicago accent, I thought that I might have struck gold.  I don’t know anything about you, or what you do for a living, but if you are agreeable, when we get back to Chicago, I would like to engage you to come regularly to my office and service my ass.”

“You see, Liam, although I am ostensibly a regular happily married man with two beautiful young children to my name, I still crave for the anal gay-sex of my college days. As my wife is unable, for obvious reasons, to satisfy me in his requirement, I am forced to look elsewhere. I am married to the most wonderfully understanding woman in the world, who knows all about my dual sex life, which she accepts. She is aware, for example, that this vacation is to allow me to satisfy my need for gay-sex.”

“What I am looking for is someone like you, who can come to my office in Chicago, once a week and give my ass what it craves, without which I would find myself trawling the seedy gay-bars in search of a one night stand, which is the last thing I wish to do. The thing is, Liam, I have become totally addicted to having my ass fucked regularly, otherwise I would go nuts. So what I had thought is that if you were willing to answer my needs once week, I would pay you $1000 a month cash. I can easily afford that as I am a very big earner and I would like someone regular like you, who can deliver the goods, for which I am quite willing and able to pay.”

“To be quite clear I would want you to rough fuck me in the way you have done here; but there would be no reciprocity, as I have no need to exercise myself sexually on another man; I am quite content with what I get from my wife. It’s just that she cannot give me the service my ass needs to keep me on an even keel.”

“Now, Liam, I have no idea how you are fixed or what you do for a living. But the fact that you are here and selling your sexual services to a mixed group of regular, gay or semi-gay, business executives like me, already tells me something about you.  So, let me just ask you directly; is my proposition of any interest to you? Would you be willing for $1000 a month cash be willing to come to my office once a week and keep me from going off the rails, by giving my ass the regular weekly rough fuck it craves?”

“I should also tell you that I would be willing to recommend your services to several other guys I know, who require the discrete sort of top-quality services similar to those I have just outlined to you and who are like me, hooked on regular anal sex, and are both willing and can afford to pay for it. Liam, make no mistake; sex is omnipresent at the highest levels of big business throughout this country.  That is where the big money is to pay for it without quibbling, provided that discretion is preserved. For a young sex-worker like you, it could be a gold-mine.”

 I had listened in complete and amazed silence to what Ray had just said. He was obviously a plain speaker who was not afraid to call a spade a spade, as his use of the word fuck had graphically illustrated. Reading between the lines of what he had said, I saw he was indirectly encouraging me to go into the sex business in a professional way. As he had said, he had no idea what I did for a living. He might have been surprised that someone so competent in gay-sex as he obviously judged me to be, had just left school aged 18 and had no job. I had never even considered selling my talent for gay-sex, which even I, sceptical though I was, was becoming ever more convinced that I possessed; so many people, starting with Paco and Darren, had remarked on it.

But a ten-day, paid fling over Christmas and New Year’s on Paradise Island was a far cry from selling myself full-time professionally for sex, in the way that Ray had suggested. It was a possibility that had never even crossed my mind; but Ray had sown the seed; and moreover, he had already used the expression: for a young sex-worker like you, which implied that he already took me for a professional.

I thanked Ray for his flatteringly generous proposition and told him I would like time to think it over and see how it fitted in with my other plans: plans, which, of course, I did not have. But I wanted time to digest the offer and discuss it with my closest friend Kyle.

Later that night, I told Kyle everything that had happened. Kyle’s immediate advice was that I take up Ray’s offer. I could see the logic in it as I knew that now I had bitten the bullet and had left left school definitively, I could no longer could, in all conscience, allow my sister to continue to support me. I would be 18 years old in early January and legally a man and had, from then on, to make my own way in life. However attractive the thought of $1000 a month seemed, selling myself for sex to one guy, somehow just seemed wrong.

But as Kyle, with his feet as ever firmly on the ground, pointed out to me: “Liam, push has now finally come to shove for you; you have to get real, take your head out of the clouds and come down from Mount Olympus or wherever your high ideals have led you to think that you are.  However you dress up what we are doing here on this island, make no mistake, my friend, we are selling our sexual services, indirectly to be sure, as no money changes hands here when we fuck a guest. But, at the end of the day, we are both peddling ourselves for sex; the guests here are paying us indirectly for our sexual services: nothing more, nothing less.”

Somehow what we were doing on the island seemed different to what Ray was proposing to me. His idea made it all so personal; I would be taking money from one man for regular sexual services, whereas here on the island the payment for and the delivery of the services seemed totally disconnected. We were not taking money directly from the hand of the guys we were servicing, which, in my mind, quite irrationally, made it totally different to taking payment from Ray for identical services I would be rendering uniquely to him.  

To me, the present situation on the Island was very much like the life I had lived for the past two years; without any financial considerations rearing their ugly head, I had, footloose and fancy-free, fucked any guy to whom I had been attracted who was willing, as many were. If I were to accept Ray’s offer, then the whole thing would become very personal and I could see a situation developing where I became, in Ray’s eyes, his toy-boy.

“Look, Liam, you are splitting hairs.  We are both, right now, selling ourselves for sex to other men; we are being paid for our services, for which, to be quite precise, we have already been paid until after the New Year. I don’t see the difference. If I were you, as you have no immediate job prospects on the horizon, I would accept Ray’s offer and suck it and see what develops. Liam, you have nothing to lose, even if it only lasts for a month or two; it would give you a little breathing space to look around and a find a permanent job, if you find you don’t like the flavour of what you are doing.”

“Let’s face it, Liam, guys like us, with no school or college qualifications, are the bottom of the work-force pile. I consider myself lucky to have found a job in a gym which I like and suits my personal talents. Liam, you have to face facts; beggars cannot be choosers; so accept Ray’s offer and see how things develop.”

“Even you must recognise by now, Liam, naïve and idealistic as you are – and speaking for myself, that’s the side of you I absolutely love – that you have totally exceptional equipment and are the absolute tops when it comes to gay-sex, as everybody, including me personally, keeps telling you. I think I am more than qualified to express an opinion, as, over the past two years, I have benefitted more from the TLC of your cock than any other guy.  Liam, flattery apart, in all sincerity, when it comes to gay-sex, you are the absolute bees-knees; no one holds a candle to you. It does not surprise me that Ray has made you you the offer he has. He obviously knows a good thing when he sees one. So, who knows? Thanks to him and his pals, you might find yourself blossoming into a full-time male-escort.”

“Liam, just listen to me; I know that you don’t want to sponge on your sister now that you have left school; so why not move in with me? We get on so well together and it would be great for me – for both of us, in fact – to have a live-in sex partner to come home to at night. Let’s face it, Liam; we are both totally died-in-the-wool, gay guys, who cannot live without regular sex; and as time as shown, we are very compatible with one another.”

“You don’t have to bother about the rent as I get my place, for what it is, free of charge, courtesy of Max Connolly at the gym. So you can chip in, whenever you are able, with the food and other bills. Liam, I am not being completely altruistic in offering you a place to rest your head each night, as it would give me the greatest pleasure to have you move in with me and to share my bed with you. Liam, you are just the greatest fuck, both coming and going, I have ever known. And don’t think I am, saying that just to please you, because I mean it.”

How could I refuse such a tempting offer from my best friend? So I accepted his offer to move in with him on our return to Chicago. And as I did not want to be totally destitute, I also accepted Ray’s offer, to service him once a week in his office for $1000 a month. As Kyle had said, I decided to suck it and see; and as you will later learn, I found the flavour of what I was sucking to be very much to my taste. Servicing Ray turned out to be a life changer for me.

CHAPTER 18.

But we still had several days left on the Island and on one of them I discovered a new twist to gay-sex which I had never before even thought of. It was the day before New-Year’s Eve, when one of the guests, a guy of about 30 at a guess, whom I had fucked twice earlier in the week, asked me to accompany him to his room. To my surprise, he showed me a photo of a naked male ass, which I could see had been well and truly beaten with a cane.

How he had obtained this photo, I have no idea, as all of us, guests included, had deposited all our clothes and belongings as we registered on arrival; but somehow he had. Now I had had plenty of personal experience at high-school of my ass being on the receiving end of the paddle and I knew just how painful that was. But I had never myself experienced or even seen a photo of a pair of bare buttocks which had been striped with either a cane or a switch, neither of which are in common use in the USA.

But just looking at the photo before me, I saw immediately that the paddle held not a candle to the cane, which concentrated the entire force of each blow into one narrow, well defined furrow. I could clearly see that the poor sod, whose ass was shown in the photo I was looking at, had received at least eight well defined, evenly spaced cuts for top to bottom of his buttocks and that the cane had extended over both buttocks at each stroke.

Now I was well aware from my own experience, of just how painful the paddle could be when applied by someone who knew what he was doing. However, just looking at the photo, I shuddered inwardly and sympathised with the unknown guy concerned, as I thought of the utterly excruciatingly pain he must have endured. The cane was undoubtedly in a totally different league to the paddle.

Jeremy, for that was the guest’s name, who had button-holed me, with what might best be described as self-malice aforethought, explained to me that the photo was none other than that of the recent, well-beaten, bare ass of the younger son of a British aristocrat – some lord or other – who, in keeping with British tradition, had sent both his sons to be educated at the infamously strict, English public school, Rigby School, near Lincoln. Rigby was, as Jeremy explained to me, noted throughout England as a school given to flogging its denizens, where, judging from the present photo, the practice was in rude good health!

“What I want you to do first,” said Jeremy, “Is to give my ass absolute hell with a dozen hard cuts with the cane, several of which are available in the punishment room in the main bloc.  I then want you to rough fuck me for the third time this week, a practice at which you are, without any shadow of doubt, unquestionably a master, which is why I have come to you with this request. Now I know it might sound strange, but just accept that there are many guys, of whom I am one, who actually enjoy the pain of having their asses beaten. Yours is not to reason why; just accept it as a fact, which I can assure that it is.”

“So the question I put to you is quite simple: will you do it? By do it, I mean cane my ass and then go on to fuck me.  I understand from other regular practitioners of, let us call it for want of a better name, the double whammy, composed of first flogging and then immediately fucking the ass you have just striped is an unbeatably seductive combination of feats, which once acquired becomes irresistibly addictive to the active performer. Speaking as a frequent and enthusiastic recipient of such largess, I can assure you that, for me, the combination of being first caned and then immediately afterwards being fucked is both an exhilarating and incredibly satisfying experience.”

Now although Greg had mentioned the existence of the punishment room in our introduction to our duties, I had never dreamed that I might be requested to administer corporal punishment to a guest before fucking him. Frankly, I had seen my role as using my ever-ready and willing cock to please the guests sexually and allowing myself to be fucked occasionally by the odd guest. That I would be requested to flog one of the guests on his naked ass before I fucked him was a scenario, which I had never, in my wildest dreams, even imagined. But evidently it did exist and had its followers, of which Jeremy was evidently one; and he was waiting for me to give him an answer.

“Jeremy,” I said, “I am truly honoured that you should have chosen me to beat your ass, out of our group of 25 toy-boys; but I have to tell you that I have no experience whatsoever in wielding the cane. So you might be better served in selecting a more experienced guy than me.”

“Horses assholes to that.” replied Jeremy. “I have asked you because you have twice given me easily the best ass fuck I have ever experienced in my life. Believe me; I have taken a lot of different tools of varying lengths and girths up my ass over the years; so I count myself as a competent judge when it comes to anal sex. Liam, when it comes to really hard fucking, you are the best there is. Not one of the present group is in the same league as you; and, like you, no one has any prior experience of using the cane as it is not anything we use very often here in the USA, which, while it may well be the Land of the Free, is also the land of the punishment paddle.”

“The cane, especially when applied to the naked ass, is a very English public school thing.  By the way, in case you don’t already know, in spite of its name, a so-called public school is an upper class, private, fee paying establishment, to which, the great and the good of our cousins, the Brits send their male offspring to be educated, which usually involves regular bare-ass encounters with the cane.”

Jeremy’s voice then became pleading: “Come on, Liam, it can’t be that hard to learn how to use the cane. You can practise on a pillow to perfect your stroke before starting on my ass. So, I ask you, yet again: will you or will you not agree to cane me? I can tell you I that I need to feel the bite of the cane so badly, that if your refuse, I will find someone else willing do his amateur worst on me, but afterwards, and this I promise you,  I will still come back to you, for the best hard fuck ever.”

So here was yet another guy telling me that I was special when it came to sex. Of course, it was all thanks to my generous endowment, which few guys could equal. In fact, thinking back over the past two years, other than Darren with his monster piece of man-meat and Sean Sullivan, whose sizeable endowment filled me with jealousy, I could think of no one I had met who was my equal when it came to cock size. Additionally, I enjoy being praised as much as the next man and as I had heard my sexual capability praised so strongly so many times, I found myself gradually coming to believe that perhaps I did have something special to offer, which other guys could not equal.

He was absolutely I have to admit that having myself endured the pain of the paddle on numerous occasions, I would not have cared to submit my own bare backside to the bite of the cane. From the photo, it was clear that the cane was in a different league to the paddle when it came to delivering pain. Re-examining my own thoughts and recognising not only just how far I had already strayed for my initial high-minded ideals about the sanctity of the mutuality of the sex act, but also how much I had enjoyed departing from the straight and narrow, I decided to agree to Jeremy’s request and said I would beat him and then rough fuck delighted.

In fact, now that Jeremy had sowed the seed in my mind, my agreement was motivated not only to please him as a paying guest, but also by my personal desire to satisfy my curiosity to see if I personally would get any satisfaction from beating a guy’s ass before going on to have sex with him. I was also additionally motivated by the fact that, if I had refused Jeremy’s request, I would have found myself obliged to knuckle under and fuck an ass which someone else had just beaten, as Jeremy had said he would do; and frankly, I believed him.

Even though I had experienced an erection each time I was paddled at school and had subsequently jerk myself off in private, I confess, in spite of two years of intensive anal sex, I was still naïve and had never associated my own erections when being paddled, with the well-known and widely recognised relationship between performing – or even just observing – an act of corporal punishment, consensual or not, and sex in any of its forms. The additional roles which sadism and Schadenfreude – pleasure at the misfortunes of others – play, in this complex entanglement of emotions, had never even entered my mind.

Jeremy wanted to get on with things immediately and hustled me down to the punishment room in the main building, a place, which I had never entered until now.  The room was sparsely furnished with a table and what was obviously a professionally made punishment stool, with an adjustable back with a padded top cross-rail, across which the insistent volunteer – a fine choice of word, I think in the present case, over which Jeremy could bend and present his bare ass to receive its punishment.  But, under the circumstances in which it was carried out, I asked myself if what I had agreed to do should be considered as punishment or pleasure.

Jeremy knew much more about the canes on display than I did, which was not difficult, as the sum total of my knowledge about canes and caning could be summed up in one word: zilch. But Jeremy had obviously made a study of his punishment implement of predilection as he selected a straight handled, half-inch diameter rattan cane – he told me that it was made of flexible rattan, of which I had never before heard, as distinct from rigid bamboo – which he handed to me as if he were offering me one of his prize possessions to examine.

He waxed lyrical about the speaking length of rattan, his expression for what he had just handed me, which frankly, being myself, a total ignoramus in the not-so-gentle art of ass-beating, I viewed as a stick But as he went on to explain, there are canes and canes:  “It is with a traditional high quality rattan cane such as this,” he said, “That whoever thrashed that bare ass I have just shown you in the photo, created the albeit transitory, masterpiece of flagellator’s art, on which you have just feasted your eyes.”

Jeremy was obviously warming poetically to his subject, as he extolled in eloquent, over-the-top language, the technical virtues of the rattan cane, which, in his view was totally unique in its ability, always in the right hands, of course, to inflict the maximum pain on its unfortunate victim. The way he described the process, I felt he had chosen the wrong word in unfortunate.  As he told it, it seemed to me that the lucky recipient of the beating, in the present case Jeremy himself, should count himself fortunate to have been given the opportunity to experience the results of the flagellator’s expertise.

“What, in English public school language, is known as a well-beaten arse,” he explained, “Must never be rushed. Strokes must be precisely placed parallel to each other from top to bottom of a subject’s buttocks and must be given at intervals of at least ten seconds to allow the recipient fully to savour the effect of each individual stroke.” 

On and on he went extolling the benefits of what he referred to as a well-beaten arse – he used the English word for ass – to the building of a guy’s character. The way he described the beating, which he obviously expected me to give him, was in quasi-religious tones, as if the act was equivalent to taking Holy Communion. I wondered where he had got all this utter rubbish from.

I listened in complete silence to his exposition. Jeremy was obviously as devoted to having his ass thrashed as I was devoted to fucking any ass which came my way. There are horses for courses and a sore ass obviously ran regularly on his. I had, by now, decided to myself that I would make a valiant maiden effort to handle the cane and endeavour to meet his exacting requirements in the matter of corporal punishment, an act, which I had never hitherto been requested to perform. I told myself that what I lacked in flagellative skills, I would compensate for by subsequently giving him the roughest and most professionally thorough fuck of his life.

Whatever misgivings I personally might have felt about what I had been inveigled into doing, which really cut across my already shattered, high moral philosophy about the mutuality of sex, my cock ever, the barometer of my true feelings, had no such reservations. As Jeremy bent across the beating stool and spread his legs, willingly giving me eager access to both his buttocks with the cane, and to his anus with my own personal rod, I decided that I would only ever beat willing candidates and never raise the rod in anger. In spite of my agreement to do what Jeremy had requested, I confess that I was still full of misgivings as I raise the cane and prepared to give him the first stroke.

My cock, however, evidently saw things from a different perspective. Looking down at myself, I had never seen my dick so resolutely erect and confident of what it wanted. It just trumpeted its silent desire – if that is not a contradiction in words – to plunge itself into Jeremy’s enticing hole and give him the rough fuck which both it and I also knew we both wanted. My dick was telling me in no uncertain terms, by leaking precum liberally as ever, to get on with the thrashing so that it could exercise its true vocation life, which, at that precise moment, was to penetrate and fuck the luscious ass in front of it.  I had to admit to myself that the thought of going on to fuck a guy, whose ass I had just beaten black and blue, did have a certain attraction to that darker side of my character which I was now in the process of discovering.

But first I had to initiate myself into what, in Jeremy’s poetic language, had been turned into the noble art of flagellation. I took the cane in my right hand and laid it gently across the midpoint of Jeremy’s buns. I don’t know when he had last satisfied his craving to be thrashed, but looking at his pristine ass, which showed no trace of any previous king if flogging in the recent past I guessed it had to have been quite some time ago. 

On feeling the cane lightly touch his naked ass, he could not resist giving me further instructions:  “Liam, I want you to give me twelve evenly spaced cuts from top to bottom of my ass. Do not hurry; leave ten seconds between each strokes so that I can appreciate each one individually.  Above all, do not hold back as I really want to feel that I have been thoroughly thrashed as if I were a naughty schoolboy. Don’t worry if you break the skin and raise a few a few drops of blood, as from what I have read about English public school beatings, that seems to be par for the course. Above all, I want you to leave me with a well-beaten ass, which, like an abstract painting, is artistic to look at.”

Now I am very sensitive to language and had immediately picked up on when Jeremy had talked about having read that blood was par for the course. That one word, read, indicated to me that he possibly had no prior first-hand – or possibly better put – first-ass experience of being beaten. If he had had, he would surely have said more positively that blood was par for the course. It suddenly hit me that Jeremy was possibly using both himself and me as guinea pigs to re-enact, here in the USA, an English public school beating, with me cast as master and himself playing an errant schoolboy paying for the error of his ways. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

This would be my maiden entry into the world of corporal punishment as a purveyor of pain; and I wondered if Jeremy too was offering me his hitherto unsullied, maiden buttocks to initiate himself into the pleasures – very doubtful in my mind – of consensual corporal punishment. One thing was clear though; what I was about to visit on Jeremy’s ass, was consensual. Reviewing how I had been manoeuvred into the position in which I now found myself, I found, in spite of my initial reluctance and misgivings, that I was now looking forward immensely to giving Jeremy’s ass absolute hell with the cane, before going on to fuck it. What did I care if my efforts with the cane raised blood: par for the course, Jeremy had called it. The sex, for which we young studs had been engaged as group of toy-boys, now suddenly seemed old hat, compared with what was now about to precede it.

I had already laid the cane across his ass when I noticed that Jeremy was trembling as he waited for the first stroke to land. This visible nervousness was not at all what one would have expected of a man who was a habitué of the cane, which reinforced my suspicion that this too might also be his first experience. Quite automatically, without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, I raised the my right arm until  my hand was touching my left shoulder with my arm across my chest and the cane well above my head at an angle and then brought down it down, backhand, as fast as I could.

My aim was perfect; the rattan landed with an explosive crack on the exact place I had laid it across Jeremy’s ass. He let out a scream of pain and continued wailing like a banshee as I positioned the cane for the second blow just above the midpoint of his buns, where, to my surprise, I saw that my first stroke had already created an obviously painful, livid, crimson welt with two well-defined, raised edges. With some personal satisfaction, I saw that my maiden stroke had stretched across both Jeremy’s buns.

From then on, I followed Jeremy’s instructions to the letter, giving him one well placed stroke after the other at ten second intervals. I first progressed upwards from my initial, central stroke towards the small of his back and then downwards towards the top of his legs. I was to learn later that this nether area, known to generations of English public schoolboys as the sit-spot, is the most sensitive part of  a man’s buttocks. It is the area on which the experienced flagellator, which, at that moment, I was most certainly not, although I felt I was fast becoming one, concentrates most of his efforts to produce that Holy Grail of flagellative art; the well-beaten-ass.

To say that Jeremy had claimed he enjoyed the bite of the cane, he concealed the fact quite well. He howled with pain as each stroke landed on his naked flesh.  In spite of the obvious, excruciating pain I was delivering and his vociferous howls, which accompanied every stroke, I had now got into my stride and was horrified to find that I was enjoying myself enormously making him suffer. Although he howled blue murder at at each stroke, as he did not tell me to stop, I pressed on regardless and gave him the twelve strokes he had originally requested.

When the beating was finally over, I stood back and admired the series of twelve strictly parallel welts, running from top to bottom of his ass, which I had created. Frankly, looking at what by any standards qualified as a well-beaten ass, I was justifiably proud of my first efforts with the rattan cane. Although I found it hard to acknowledge to myself, I knew inwardly that I had truly enjoyed inflicting pain on Jeremy’s ass. I had discovered a definite sadistic side to my character, which I had not, until now, even known existed.

But even worse, looking  at results of my handiwork: those twelve livid, blood-flecked stripes, whose initial crimson colour was already turning  dark blue as the bruising appeared, I found, to my horror, that  not only had I enjoyed inflicting pain on Jeremy’s ass, but I was now enjoying watching him suffer. I suddenly found myself wallowing in the unpardonable sin of Schadenfreude – enjoying someone else’s misery. Frankly it was a jolt: a very salutatory moment, to acknowledge, even to myself, the fact that I had enjoyed inflicting pain on someone and was now enjoying watching my victim suffer, luxuriating in an aftermath of personal Schadenfreude.

But facts were facts and had to be faced, even though they bruised my personal opinion of myself. Life had to go on regardless of my self-inflicted fall from the lofty ideals to which I had aspired. Looking down at that faithful alter ego, my cock, which always faced the truth full-on and never indulged in meretricious persiflage to hide the facts, however unpleasant, I saw that it had accepted that what was done was done and could not be undone. It was, as ever, in its bright-eyed and bushy-tailed manner, straining at the bit to get on with the only thing it considered important. I saw that my dick was had well and truly outdoing itself. It seemed harder and bigger than ever before and was oozing precum like it was going out of style. As Jeremy and I had an agreement that I would first beat him and then fuck him, I saw no reason to deprive my over-eager dick any longer from its moment of glory.

Jeremy was obviously in no condition to make a rational decision as to the position in which he wished me to take him, enjoying – if that is the right word – as he was, in the painful aftermath of the beating I had just given him. I reached across to a side-table on which were to be found both condoms and lubricants, grabbed a tube of lubricant and lathered my cock with a liberal amount of the slippery cream. I next positioned myself behind Jeremy, who was still bent over the beating-stool trying to recompose himself after what, in my inexperienced view, had been a severe and painful beating. Then without any warning or foreplay at all, I thrust, with great force, the full naked 10 plus inches – my tool had outdone itself – of my rock-hard fuck-stick straight into Jeremy’s hole. I made short shrift of the resistance of his anal sphincter muscles and bottomed my pelvis against his ass. Sexually super-aroused by what had gone before, I am ashamed to say that I then gave completely free rein to my worst self, as I fucked Jeremy with a ferocity of which I had not previously known myself capable.

The moment of penetration took Jeremy by surprise and he let out a loud cry of pain, which I completely ignored, as I commenced immediately to batter him with my cock.  The act of beating him prior to sex had brought me to a state of sexual arousal, the intensity and speed of which I had never before experienced.  As a result, I shot my load after only a few thrusts with my penis and pumped a huge amount of my man-juice deep inside him. I somehow felt completely cheated. In acceding to Jeremy’s request for a beating, I had indirectly deprived myself of the pleasure which the reciprocating movement of my penis during sex always provokes in me as I fuck my partner  towards my own and hopefully also, his climax. 

Somehow did not feel that I had earned or merited the orgasm, which came so quickly after penetration. Intent on obtaining what I considered as my rightful due, after a brief pause, with my cock still deeply embedded inside Jeremy’s rectum, I again began battering him with renewed fury.  Of course, having just reached orgasm myself, the development of my second climax, was slow in coming; it was only after five minutes of serious thrusting into Jeremy’s anus that I again exploded into a second orgasm.

I should have seen it coming, but I was so centred on my satisfying myself that I did not hear Jeremy’s change from painful sobbing to exhortations to me not to stop what I was doing. The result was that when I myself reached my second climax, I discovered that I had also succeeded in fucking Jeremy through to his own orgasm which, by some miracle, occurred simultaneously with mine. I claim no credit whatsoever for this happenstance, a fortunate, mutual corollary to the sex act, in which I was engaged and upon which, theoretically I loftily laid so much worth. My only thought had been to satisfy my own burning sexual needs: needs generated in me by the unique series of actions, into which, originally, quite against my will, Jeremy had persuaded me to participate.

As I finally withdrew myself still rampant weapon from Jeremy’s passage, he, of course, totally unaware of my thoughts, poured lavish praise on my efforts. “Never,” he declared, “Have I had such a marvellous experience. To say as you claim, that you have never before wielded the cane, you are just a natural. I cannot think of when I enjoyed a beating so much as the one you have just given me.” Evidently, I had been wrong in my surmise that he had engineered what for him would also be the maiden encounter of his ass with the cane; although I still had my doubts, thinking back to the histrionic cries of pain as I was beating the hell out of his ass.  If that was how he expressed his enjoyment, it had fooled me completely.

But he had not yet finished with his fulsome, rather embarrassing, over-the-top praise: “To claim, as you did, Liam, that you had no previous experience in the noble art of beating, you handled the cane like an experienced pro. If that really was your first effort, all I can say is that it was up there with the best beatings I have ever had in my life. And as for your sexual capabilities, well, if ever a guy knew how to use his cock to give his partner pleasure, then it is you.  I have never before experienced being fucked through to orgasm in the way you did just now. It was an unbelievable sensation for me to climax with your cock still inside me, obviously sharing with you that same, exquisite, orgasmic feeling, which occurs at the moment of ejaculation. You truly are a crack, Liam.”

By the time Jeremy had finished praising me, I was well-nigh to crawling up the wall with embarrassment for praise that I knew I did not deserve. As it is axiomatic that least said is soonest mended, there seemed no point in apprising him of the facts. After all, why disillusion a satisfied client? All’s well that ends well; so we parted friends. However, I was left, with a feeling of deep personal guilt.

That night in bed, making love, as distinct from just having sex, with Kyle, I poured out my heart and my misgivings to my closest and dearest friend, about what had happened with Jeremy. As I gently fucked him face-to-face in the mission position, Kyle listened patiently as I exposed to him what I considered were the newly discovered serious flaws and unattractive traits in my character. He then calmly and laconically summed up his view on my mea culpa out-pouring, saying: “You should thank God, Liam that you have finally left the non-existent, make-believe, perfect world in which you have been living until now and have moved into the real, rough and tumble world of  gay-sex. Congratulations, Liam; I knew you would eventually get there.”

CHAPTER 19.

It was eleven o’clock on New Year’s Eve. You could almost hear the crackle of the static electricity in the air as everybody, staff and guests alike, assembled in the auditorium, all agog with the promise of a live male-sex show, the likes of which had never before been seen. The entire audience was literally salivating at the lips, with their cocks dripping with precum, at the thought of the professional stage show, which had been programmed to usher in the New Year. As yet, nobody had even glimpsed the twelve, professional, bodybuilder performers who would show their paces to an audience eager for the ultimate sex show. The members of audience were, to a man, beside themselves themselves in the frenzied anticipation of what they hoped was to come.

It goes without saying that with an audience totally at ease with itself after a week of practically no-stop sex, often performed in public, all inhibitions had long gone. So I was not at all surprised when certain of the better equipped guests took to the stage and vaunted their sexual credentials in front of us.  It was a completely relaxed occasion, where staff and guest alike had every intention of enjoying themselves sexually, At the end of the day, uninhibited sex was the purpose of the of the vacation:.

When finally, the twelve live performers arrived in stage, the audience first fell into the utter silence of mid-bending disbelief at what they saw before their very eyes, before breaking out into a thunderous round of applause and vocal expletives, most of which do not bear repeating here.

The twelve dramatis personae arrived naked on stage, their muscular bodies gleaming with oil, each with his unbelievably enormous cock rigid and ready to go. Their foreskin, that veil, which from birth obscures the intrinsic, visual beauty of each and every cockhead, had been cut away to the quick, to expose their cocks in all their glory. In each case, the crowning glory of the cockhead, now totally well-defined and visibly gleaming with oil was set off from its rock-hard shaft by a deep rim. If anybody in the audience needed convincing of the desirability of circumcision to enhance the visual aspect of a man’s principal sexual asset, he needed to look no further than at the twelve, circumcised cannons on stage, all of which were primed and ready to fire their first volleys towards the audience, which is exactly what they did.

I had been fortunate enough, as also had been Alex, to have been allocated seats in the front row; although some might have said the opposite in view of what shortly happened. Kyle was not so lucky and was sitting elsewhere. I asked myself if Alex and I had been singled out for this distinction because we had, by some margin, the biggest cocks among the 25 strong phalanx of toy-boys. Looking along our front row companions, who, apart from Alex and me, had been chosen from the guests, gave substance to this theory, as I noticed that all the other front row occupants were among the best endowed of the guests. However, compared with the massive display of professional man-meat on the stage, our entire collection of front-row dicks, including Alex’s and mine, looked rather puny.

Sitting where I was, I had a very clear view of the competition, which is a bad choice of word,  as we, in the audience,  were in no way competing with the professionals on stage, who had been hired precisely because they possessed exceptional equipment and knew how to use it to entertain us. Nevertheless, I am sure that you can imagine how both Alex and I felt to find ourselves confronted with such a magnificent array of erect fuck-sticks, whose knobs were already glistening promisingly with oil and precum. It was, for me, a guy who is, except for unique occasions like the present, accustomed always to being top-cock when it comes to size, a severe blow to find myself in the ranks of the also-rans.

I exaggerate somewhat; but you can understand how I felt to have been summarily de facto dethroned from my habitual position as king-cock. My personal chagrin was further aggravated by the fact that the two professionals directly in front of Alex and me, were of African origin and like many black bodybuilders, they had absolutely stunning muscles and mind-bogglingly ginormous penises to match, which they were thrusting more or less up our noses.

But, I swallowed my pride and mentally gave credit where credit was due and acknowledged to myself that the professionals were a stupendously well-equipped group of young men. I had, at first sight, been miffed by the massive size of their dicks, but I quickly realised that the very last thing I would want was to look like any of them.

There is big, bigger and biggest; Alex and I are seriously big in the cock stakes; but we are both still totally credible with it. The guys we were looking at were freaks, condemned to spend their lives exhibiting their grotesquely fascinating, inflated attributes on stage. There are horses for courses, but theirs was not one on which I personally wished run. But in spite of myself, the way things developed that evening, both Alex and I found ourselves participating in part of the stage demonstration.

Once the initial applause, engendered by the sight of the super-erotic tableau, had died down, a number of naked youths appeared, as if  from nowhere, and proceeded, before our very eyes, to generously lubricate the already gleaming, erect dicks of the performers. Then, each of these over-endowed studs held out both his hands, palms upwards, which the assistants proceeded to lubricate. What happened next was the most incredible demonstration of synchronised jerking-off imaginable. When I say jerking-off, an act with which I can say, with some certitude, we are all familiar and which, in spite being very much second best to having sex with another guy, gives a great deal of relief and pleasure to many a lonely soul, whose cock is in need of some comforting solace, the word inadequately describes the act, which now took place on stage.

All the performers had cocks much too long to be jerked-off, in the usual way, by one hand alone; so, each guy took both his hands to his own uncompromisingly hard dick. It was obvious that they had all rehearsed this, their introductory act, until it was performance perfect. With astounding synchronisation of their movements – there appeared to be no coordinator – each guy wrapped right hand around the lower half of his tool in his and his left hand around the upper half, thereby forming an imperfect cylinder; a sort of surrogate rectum, surrounding his penis.

Then followed a fantastic piece of theatrical denouement, as each guy masturbated himself to orgasm, in a combination of quasi-copulative thrusts and withdrawals, sliding his cock to and fro in the quasi-circular passage created by his own two hands.  Their hands remained essentially stationary, whilst their penises slid to and fro in the lubricated tunnel-like of two hands.  In fact, each guy was figuratively partnering himself and was engaged in the most sophisticated display ever of masturbation: fucking his own two hands.

Thanks to the generous lubrication of penis and hands, the dicks sliding to and fro in the hands experienced more or less the same sensations as if they had each been fucking a live partner. You will now understand why I said above that the expression jerking off inadequately describes the imaginative act that took place. I have tried, with little success, to find a single word which describes what they were doing. The best I can come up with is that as a group they were engaged in a simultaneous, demonstrative auto-fuck of their own cocks. This was a very refined form of masturbation; but masturbation it remained as each guy produced his own orgasm. I should add that throughout the evening, the events were accompanied by disco music with a beat designed to give rhythm to and intensify the impact of this unique sex act which drove the audience wild.

The audience went practically berserk, when, after five minutes of frantically vigorous, but perfectly coordinated, reciprocating thrusting of twelve pairs of buttocks, all twelve cocks erupted simultaneously in a veritable explosion of man-juice, which was ejaculated all over those sitting in the front row of the audience. Alex and I were both full-in the-face beneficiaries of the jism of the two black Americans directly in front of us on the stage.

They were certainly the largest endowed of any of the performers.

Their unbelievably massive cocks spewed forth a veritable Niagara, or perhaps I should say, in homage to the continent from which their forbears originated, Victoria Falls of sperm. How the group of twelve achieved this amazing degree of simultaneity of climax, apparently without a coordinator, remains a mystery. But the fact is that they did and in so doing brought down the house with thunderous applause. The New Year’s Eve entertainment had got off to a flying start.

For the next sexual sketch, six chairs were placed on stage, with their backs pointing towards the wings. Six members of the group then bent over the backs of the chairs, spreading their legs and offering their anuses to the tender, loving care of their companions’ dicks. Once again the audience was treated to a spectacle of strictly coordinated copulation, as each of the tops thrust his dick into his partner’s anus. Thanks to the lateral aspects of both the fuckers and those being fucked, the audience was able to see how each top practically withdrew himself almost completely, before thrusting his massive, rock-hard fuck-stick forcefully back into his partner. When the simultaneous climax came, it was as triumphal end to an unforgettable spectacle of coordinated, virtuoso, bare-back fucking.

Quite unbelievably, the twelve performers achieved the unachievable: that Holy Grail of anal sex: the simultaneous orgasm. How a group of six couples managed this feat, God alone knows; but as God is very uncommunicative, we shall never know. But the fact remains that unachievable was achieved; and the bottoms, whose cocks were clearly visible to the audience, simultaneously ejaculated great gobbets of sperm all over the floor of the stage. The tops, meanwhile, dumped their loads deep inside their respective partners. The audience went wild at such a never-before-seen, prodigious demonstration of anal copulation. It was one of those once seen, never forgotten occasions.

But this was only the hors-d’oeuvre to what was a veritable smorgasbord of anal and oral sex, performed by the professional actors on stage, which was to conclude by bringing in the New Year with the entire audience, comprised of guests and staff, indulging in an orgy of gay-sex. At midnight as the New Year was rung in – or probably better put – was fucked in, there was not one single guy in the room, who was not engaged in some form of anal or oral sex.  It is perhaps worth noting that the festivities went on until two in the morning on New Year’s Day, by which time the floor of the auditorium was almost awash with the sperm of over 200 revellers. It had been a truly a memorable occasion, which royally completed the promise to the guests of ten days of super-abundant gay-sex in the sun.

CHAPTER 20.

But before I move on from this exceptional evening, I must just tell about the way Alex and I, also found our way onto the stage and finished up performing together with the twelve professional actors in front of the the audience.

I have already told you that I suspected that Alex and I had been allocated front row seats as we were the best endowed of the toy-boy group. Well I was proved right, when half way into their programme, one of the professional actors assumed the role of compère and addressed the audience. He gestured towards Alex and me and said, without any prior warning to either of us: “Gentlemen, I would like you to welcome onto the stage, two young men, who, I understand, have given many of you the most unstinting and outstanding service during your vacation. Gentlemen, please give a big hand to Alex and Liam as they come onto the stage and take a well-deserved bow.”

What could we do presented with such an impromptu invitation, but ascend onto the stage amid deafening applause from the audience? If it had ended there, all would have been well; but, of course, it did not. The compère, turning to us, then went on: “Alex and Liam, not everyone in the audience has had the pleasure of benefitting from your outstanding capabilities in matters dear to the heart or perhaps should I say ass of all of us present this evening and so I am sure that neither of you will object to participating in a little dramatic sketch which we have devised to demonstrate to the audience your mastery of the activity we all enjoy so much.”

“I should tell everyone in the audience that neither of you knew that you would be invited to join us on stage tonight. But allow me to assure you that the routine we have devised is one, which we hope you will both enjoy personally as much as I hope the audience will, and does not require either of you to do anything other than to lie back and enjoy the ride.”

On hearing the words: lie back and enjoy the ride, my mind flashed back to the other context in which I had heard almost the same suggestion: “If you know you are being raped, just sit back and enjoy the experience.” I knew that we were not literally about to be raped; but we had nevertheless been raped intellectually in kind. We had been inveigled onto the stage under the false pretence of taking a bow and then presented with a fait accompli that we could not refuse. It was almost as if the compère was pointing a loaded gun at our heads. 

Other than create a shindig, we could do little other than agree to participate in whatever was being proposed, about which we had not the faintest idea of what our roles would be. Obviously, given the context of the evening, it would involve some sort of elaborately imaginative, sexual stunt; but what? We were completely snookered; our professional partners had taken us hook, line and sinker; they had us by the short and curlies!

Four of the professional actors had moved to the back of the stage and had arranged themselves in two pairs of two men facing the audience. We were then each requested by the compère to position ourselves facing the audience, our backs to the four guys and put our arms around the shoulders of the couple in front of whom we were each standing. Then four of the other actors each took one of our legs into the air so that Alex and I were both more or less held spread-eagled in mid-air. It then suddenly hit me as to what was to happen; the remaining actors were going to fuck us simultaneously and sequentially in mid-air, which is why the compère had said that Alex and I could lie back –  not sit back  –and enjoy the ride.

My suspicions were confirmed when two of the young assistants reappeared and busied themselves lubricating our anuses: Alex and I were to obviously about to be fucked. Meanwhile the compère announced to the audience that we were to be rewarded for our outstanding service during the preceding days, by being given a professional flying fuck.  I don’t think either of us had any fear of, or objection to being fucked in front of the audience; after all, we were being paid as toy-boys for the guests’ sexual pleasure. But looking at the size of the cocks of the two black actors, who were standing there with their two colleagues, one of whom was compèring this whole fantasy, my heart went into overdrive at the thought of taking two such massive pieces of man-meat in succession up my ass.

My misgivings were heightened by the fact that of the four actors standing there preparing to fuck us, their cocks already stoutly rigid and exuding precum in obvious eager anticipation of pleasures to come, the two black guys looked forebodingly  challenging. And I venture to say that Alex was also having similar apprehensive thoughts about the onslaught to which our asses were to be subjected. but there we were, Alex and I, trussed like two chickens on a spit ready to be roasted; what could we do but grin and bear it and hope for the best? When it finally happened, I sighed inwardly with relief when our anal sphincters were first stretched by the two white guys, both of whom had large erections, but were not to be compared with the quite exceptional monoliths of the blacks.

I confess that as a guy who has, during the past two years, taken countless cocks of all shapes and sizes up his ass, I felt a frisson of excited anticipation, tinged with more than a touch of fear, course through my body the moment the the biggest invading member I had ever taken touched my anus. However, my fears proved to be totally unjustified as he very gently slid the full 15 inches of his well-lubricated dick into me. As his fuck-stick descended into hitherto unplumbed depths of my passage, I realised that the male rectum, in its surrogate vaginal function, is very accommodating both in terms of length and girth of the member it can take.

As the he prepared to begin the reciprocating movements which are the very essence of all sexual intercourse, my mind flashed back to the time I had first bottomed for Darren and was faced with the then daunting prospect of taking his twelve-inch, hard rod up my ass. In the event, this present muscular, super-equipped, young guy was gentleness personified. In that utterly absurd position, spread-eagled in the air as I was, he fucked me with great consideration.  His thrusting inevitably increased in both force and speed as he warmed to the act and his natural instincts came into play, forcing him to search for his own fulfilment.

He did not succeed in taking me through to orgasm, but he himself did climax inside me and deposit his load in the depths of my rectum. As he was fucking me, I glanced across at Alex and saw that the two actors were coordinating their thrusts exactly and somehow managed to climax at the same moment.  In fact, in spite of my fears and having been left in suspension in more ways than one, I found that I was enjoying what was happening.

Then came the turn of the two blacks with their almost phantasmagorical, large tools, which would have stretched even the most vivid of imaginations, had they been not only real, but also there and ready for action. Again, they were both extremely considerate to Alex and me, Frankly, I had, in the past, been fucked much harder by other guys, who, in size terms, did not measure up to the knees of these two quite remarkably endowed blacks.  They both again managed to climax inside of us, more or less simultaneously. The audience, with some justification, went wild at being treated to such an extraordinary, gymnastic, sexual tour de force.

It could have finished there; but, of course, it did not.  What had happened was scene one – act one, of an act which was to go on until all twelve actors had penetrated our asses. We found ourselves hoisted into the air by different combinations of the twelve actors, until they had each had the satisfaction of fully exercising themselves, two at a time, on Alex and me. We finally regained our front-row seats after each of us having been fucked no less than six times.

How did we feel after successive onslaughts by such exceptionally large specimens of man-meat on our asses?  The short answer is a bit sore; but then who would not feel so after after such a repetitive reaming of one’s ass? Later that night – or more exactly in the early hours of New Year’s Day – recounting as I always did, my thoughts to my father confessor, Kyle, with whom I was, as ever, in bed, I have to admit that despite considerable misgivings I had actually enjoyed what had been the most unique experience of my sex life to date. Kyle replied in his usual pithy way: “Liam, just face it and accept it; you are totally committed and addicted to gay-sex in any and all of its forms. Walk away for your shadow at your own peril.”

CHAPTER 21.

Our time on the island was over and on January 3, Kyle and I were on the flight from the balmy south to the frozen north of Chicago in mid-winter. I have to say that during the sexual free-for-all of the subtropical Paradise Island, I had not given another thought to my precarious situation back home. Although it was only days since I had quit high-school, it seemed like years. Tomorrow, January 4th I would be 18 and of age: man free to control my own destiny.

I suddenly remembered that I desperately needed to find a job – any job at all – to keep the wolf from the door. I had not yet told my sister that I had left school definitively and that I intended, as I was now of age, to move out of the house where I had lived with her all my life and move in with Kyle, whom she had never met. She was only aware I had gone on vacation to Florida with my friend Kyle.

Since learning that her only brother was gay, Maureen had kept her promise and had never inquired or interfered at all into my private life outside the house. She would have been horrified learn that the Florida vacation had, in reality been a paid sexual excursion on which Kyle and I had literally sold our bodies for sex. On the flight back to Chicago, I rehearsed, in my mind how I would tell her that I was not returning to school and that as I was now 18, I had decided that the time had come to paddle my own canoe and move out of what had been the only home I had ever known. I was sure that it would be a shock to her to learn that her brother, her surrogate son, was moving out to live in, what in her eyes, was sin with another gay man.

 I foresaw, in my mind’s eye, endless arguments and remonstrations as Maureen endeavoured to persuade me not to take the first step towards eternal damnation, in which she, as an ardent and practising Catholic, earnestly believed. I desperately did not want to find myself estranged from Maureen, who was still the only person whom I truly loved, in the way a son loves his mother. I knew that I would be tantamount to walking on the edge of a precipice and one false move on my part could ruin forever what was still for me the important relationship in my life.

And so, it was with some trepidation that I returned home to bite the bullet that could potentially ruin my relationship with my sister.  In the event, things did not go at all as I had envisaged.

 After exchanging a few pleasantries with Maureen, during which she wished me a Happy Birthday as it was January 4th, she said to me: “Sit down, Liam, as I have some surprising news to tell you; I am getting married next month.” I could hardly believe my ears. My matronly sister, now aged 49, who, to the best of my knowledge, had never had a boy friend even when she was younger, was getting married! It could not be true, could it?  But it was. And then the whole story came out.

For many years, in fact, for as long as I could remember Maureen had worked as waitress in the upmarket Cape Cod Room in the old Drake Hotel at the top end of North Michigan Avenue, Chicago’s so-called  Golden Mile. When in 2016 the restaurant closed, she had moved just a few blocks south to one of the most expensive hotels in town, The Ritz Carlton, where she was now Restaurant Manager. It was there that she had met one of the regular customers, a well-heeled businessman from St. Louis, a childless widower, who had lost his wife some five years previously. Well, for some reason, he had been attracted to my sister and as he was a regular at the hotel, one thing had led to another and a year after they had first met, he had proposed to her and she had accepted.

To make matters perfect for her, my sister’s future intended, Patrick O’Connor, was of Irish descent and also a devout Catholic. I admit found it hard to imagine my mother, for that is how I saw my sister Maureen, as a married woman; but once I had taken in this amazing news, I could not have been happier for her.

In view of her shock announcement, I deemed it better to hear Maureen out before I told her of my plans, which in a way, were almost as dramatic as hers as both involved breaking up our little family. Her announcement had happily made my own future plans much more palatable to explain to her, who was, in effect, abandoning me, rather than me abandoning her. 

Maureen continued her explanation of how she had come to this happy state of affairs, before getting down to the serious matter of what I would do when she moved to St. Louis, as was now her intention.  She had obviously already given a great deal of thought as to how I would deal what was a break-up of our mother and son little family, without any knowledge of my own intentions.

“Today is your eighteenth birthday,” she said, “So you are now officially of age and able to look after yourself. So I hope that you will not feel that I am abandoning you although that is more or less what I am doing. What you do not know is that you are a man of property, as you and I jointly own this house outright, which is to say that there is no loan outstanding on the property to be paid off. It was left to us jointly, on a 50-50 basis, by our father on his death. So when we sell it, which I thought we should do when I leave to live in St. Louis, as I doubt very much that you will want to live on your own in this place once I have left, as co-owner, you will be entitled to half the proceeds which will give you a good start in life when you leave school in summer and find a job, which you must do to support yourself from then on.  What I had thought in the meantime….”

Maureen was still unaware that I had unilaterally decided to leave school at the end of last term. All she knew was that I had gone swanning off with my friend Kyle for a vacation in Florida over the holiday period. She had no idea what we had been doing there; but as, since I was aged 16, she had been aware of and – thankfully – had accepted my sexual mores, I guessed, that she knew that Kyle and I had not just been sunbathing and swimming. What she did not need to know and would, in fact, never know, was what we had been paid to service the needs of 200 or so well-heeled gay men on a sexually orientated vacation in the sun. Now, seemed as good as any to tell her of my plans; and so I interrupted her.

“Maureen, I cannot begin to tell you, just how happy I am for you, that you have found someone with whom you wish spend the rest of your life. You are quite right to say that as I am now 18 – today, in fact, as it just happens to be my 18th birthday – I should fend for myself. However, what you do not know is that I decided, off my own bat, at the end of last term, that as I would be 18 before the school reconvenes on January 8th, I would leave at Christmas and not wait until summer, as is usually the case with final year pupils.  I have already told the School Principal, Mr. Vollands that I will not be returning there this January; so officially I am, as of now, done with school.”

Maureen’s pre-emptive revelations about her plans had relieved me of of breaking what I had anticipated would have been a severe blow to her that I had intended to leave: a fact she now need never know.  Consequently, skirting around the absolute truth of the matter I said: “Maureen, you don’t have to worry about me living in this house by myself. During our vacation in Florida, Kyle suggested that now I was no longer a schoolboy and would be of the legal age to do as I wanted, that I move in with him in his place above the gym where he works down town in the Loop. So, in view of your amazing and joyous news, that is what I will now do, as I think it will be easier for me to find a job down-town, in the Loop, than down here on the South Side, where where we live. I know that I have left school without a job but I will soon find some job or other to keep the wolf from the door. If I had remained until the summer, I would just have been pushing the inevitable off by six months.”

“Maureen, I am not at all a studious type and I have left school without any qualifications whatsoever. I am resigned to the fact the beggars cannot be choosers and that until I find a permanent job, which I can do and which pays a living wage, I shall just have to scratch around to earn my living; but I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll survive somehow; and it will be good to have to fend for myself. Maureen, you have taken care of me all my life like a mother.”

“I know that I have been a disappointment to you since I was 16 years old, when I finally confirmed your suspicions that I was gay. But I have to say that I am not unhappy in myself with my sexuality, which is just as well as it is not something which you or I can change. Although I know you don’t basically approve of my life style, you have not interfered with it in any way and you have never allowed your disapproval to and spoil the relationship which you and I have always had together. So, ever since you have known about me, I have never felt unwelcome in living with you, for which I will be forever thankful. But we have to face the facts: I am what I am and nothing will change that and so both you and I have to live with the fact that your brother is a practising homosexual. I have made my bed and must now lie in it.”

“As for this house; well until you told me just now, I had no idea that we jointly owned the place. You know, young people like me don’t worry about such important details as having a roof over their heads. They simply take it as read that they have a home to go to. So I have no particular attachment to this place, even thought have spent all my life to date living here. I am quite happy to leave it to you to sell it. As you say my share of the proceeds will give me a start in life. I am amazed, Maureen that anyone would want to buy a house in such a seedy neighbourhood as ours.  But if you can sell it then go ahead.”

“Oh, you are so wrong, Liam, I have already spoken to a local realtor, who deals mainly in properties like ours and he assures me that there is a brisk demand for houses around here. He has already been around here and taken a look at the place, which is not in bad condition. He has estimated it to be worth between $100,000 and $120,000 in today’s market.”

“In that case, Maureen, I suggest you go ahead and let him list it for sale immediately.”

To jump ahead, the realtor listed our house at $135,000 and we had an offer of $130,000 within a week. Some 70 days later, we received $120,500 cash after the realtor’s commission and taxes. My share of the proceeds was $60,250 of which I gave Maureen $10,000 to cover, retroactively, the cost of her wedding celebrations, which are normally paid for by the bride’s family, but which her new husband had funded and which, although they had cost an arm and a leg, had most appropriately been held at the Ritz Carlton Hotel, where Maureen had worked until the day before her wedding.  I was quite happy to pay for my sister’s wedding, in spite of my new brother-in-law, Patrick waving away the cost; I insisted that I reimburse him...

I feel I must include a sentimental note, here.  I was never so proud in my life as when I walked my sister down the aisle of the local Catholic Church where she had attended mass every Sunday during her whole adult life. I do not hide from you the fact that I shed a tear as she made her wedding vows, which I knew heralded the end of the life we had known together and a new life for both of us. 

I had come home from Florida about to tell Maureen that I intended to leave home. However, in the event, it was she who was leaving me that day. I confess that when it had actually happened, I found it a blow, but I did not begrudge her her future happiness and only hoped – I am not a praying type – that we would both be happy with the cards we had been dealt. In future life would be different for both of us.

I did not think it necessary to tell Maureen that Kyle and I had been  been on an expenses paid, working holiday in Florida or that I had concluded a deal for $1000 a month to service a Chicago business man’s sexual needs once a week. Maureen must have known that someone had financed our trip to Florida, as she knew that I did not have the cash to pay for such a vacation myself. I guess she must also have divined that our excursion that I had somehow been expenses paid. From what she knew of my activities over the last two years, I imagined she must have known that it was associated in some way with gay-sex.  She wisely let sleeping dogs lie and did not probe any further.

Thus, things between my sister and me worked out better than I could ever have hoped. In breaking her truly momentous news to me before I had had chance to tell her that I had left school and intended to move in with Kyle and plough my own furrow in life, had avoided the blow which I had anticipated I would be making  in telling her of my intentions. And to learn that I was part owner of a house, in which I had lived all my life and that it was worth about $130,000 was a totally unexpected sweetener in my life. Things were looking less bleak than they had on the flight back from Florida.  I still had to find a permanent job; but my changed financial circumstances had given me some breathing space.

CHAPTER 22. 

During the month leading up to my sister’s wedding, after I had arrived I had arrived back from Florida, I continued to live at home until shortly before the wedding, when I collected together my few possessions and moved in with Kyle. Immediately after my moving out, my sister’s fiancé, my millionaire, future brother-in-law, Patrick O’Connor, installed his wife-to-be in a suite at the Ritz Carlton where she continue to work until the day before her wedding wedding. He then took care of clearing the rag-bag of furniture and accumulated junk out of the house where I had lived all my life: and then paid for the whole place to be painted internally from to bottom and handed the keys over to the realtor. Frankly it was Patrick’s intervention, which largely contributed to the immediate sale of the property. But, I confess, when I finally left, I shed a tear for the place in which I had spent my entire life to date as my sister and I moved on with our lives.

The family home was no more and I had moved in with Kyle, who had his feet much more firmly on the ground than I had ever had. We were not only the closest of friends but also ardent lovers. I suppose Kyle became a father confessor figure to me; the person to whom I told everything; even the most intimate details of my life. There was nothing about me or my thoughts that he did not know. He had become my truest, closest, and sexually my most intimate friend. As I have said earlier, we were comfortable with each other, even though we both knew that the guy for each of us was somewhere out there and when the first of us found him we would ultimately part company. However, in my bones I just knew that after parting, we would remain close friends for life.

The first thing that Kyle suggested I do – in fact, he practically forced me to do – was to spend part to my $1000 and buy myself a decent suit, shirt and tie and a conventional pair of black shoes: “Look, Liam,” he said, “You have made your first catch. You have guy who is prepared to pay you $1000 a month for you to fuck him in his office once a week. You cannot turn up for your weekly fuck looking like a scruff. If you turn up looking as you do now, you will not get past reception. You have to look like, and play the part, of a young executive, visiting your client on a pre-arranged business appointment. So come on, Liam, chop-chop; don’t argue; let’s go and get you kitted out.” I did put up some resistance to shelling out – a tidy sum, for me at least – on clothes, the likes of which I had never before worn in my life.

But, it was just as well that I was prepared, as Raymond Winters, the guy I had reluctantly agreed to service, rang me in early January and arrange our first meeting. For the first time in my life, feeling a bit like a tailor’s dummy, I donned a dark suit, white shirt and tie and wearing a pair polished black Oxfords, presented myself at the appointed hour, just before noon, at the reception desk of the company for which Ray worked, which I saw was named Winters & Son Investments. I was told Mr. Winters junior was expecting me and was whisked up to the top floor in a high speed elevator to be greeted on arrival by Ray himself who was waiting for me in the corridor. Sumptuous was an understatement for even the corridor, let alone his office into which he ushered me. I saw his name plaque on the door: Mr. Raymond Winters: Vice President.

I had the impression that we were both surprised to see the other in this totally different context. We had previously only seen each other on Paradise Island with both of us totally naked; now here we were dressed as two young American business executives, which he, of course, was.  It was not surprising that we both took an instant to accustom ourselves to the other, Quite honestly, if I had met him in the street in Chicago, even though I had fucked him three times only a couple of weeks ago, I might not have recognised him; or, for that matter he me. But it was over in a flash, as Ray said to me. “Well Liam, let me just tell you how pleased I am that you have not had a change of heart about the deal. I admit that I was a bit nervous as I thought I had sort of bull-dozed you into doing something you did not really want to do. Anyway, here you are. So all’s well that ends well.”

He handed me an envelope saying: “Here’s $1000 as agreed. It is in the form of $20 bills, as I thought you would find them more convenient. To be quite clear, I have decided to make it $1000 for each four week period.  Now, as it is lunch time, I have ordered some sandwiches and coffee for us, which are already waiting next door in my private conference room, where I suggest we now go to conduct our business totally undisturbed.”

Before we moved into the neighbouring room, he turned the the key in the lock of his office door. The conference room contained a large table and chairs, but also another side-table and a leather covered couch with cushions against the wall. I was somewhat in awe of Ray, even though I had already had sex with him in Florida three times as I marvelled that a man so young, as he appeared to be, held such a senior position in the company.

 Looking around at the size and furnishings of his plush office and conference room, he was obviously one of the top men in the company. But it was not for me to question him on his position and we both quickly stripped off completely to get down to the matter to hand. As soon as we were naked and facing each other I suddenly lost the sense of inferiority and awe I had felt when I first entered his office. I felt that I was now in control and I relished the obvious admiration which Ray bestowed on my fast rising cock. I admit that I had had slight collywobbles in my stomach on entering the august surroundings of his domain, when, for a brief moment, I had had doubts about my ability to perform,

A man’s cock is its own master and if it decides not to play ball for its owner, there is little he can do to persuade it to change its mind. In many ways its behaviour is analogous to that of horse, which can be led to water but cannot be forced to drink. But my cock, on its normal form, performed impeccably and rose to the occasion and, as ever, was urging me forward to allow it to see some action,.

Looking at my ten inch erection, Ray said: “Gee, Liam, you really have a very impressive piece there, which few guys can equal. You know, since we first had sex together in Florida, I have dreamt of the moment when I would again have the pleasure of being fucked by you. Liam, I can barely now wait to have you use your meat it on me again. If it’s alright with you, and as we are both clean, I would like you to take me bareback.”

In spite of Paco Obregon’s suggestion to always us a condom and as I personally much preferred to fuck – and also to be fucked – bareback and I nodded my agreement to Ray. However, before I shafted him, I extracted a tube of lubricant from my jacket pocket and lubed up my cock.

I did not need to ask Ray what position he preferred, for to paraphrase the 23rd Psalm, “while I was, anointing myself with oil, my cock was running over with cum” he had laid himself down flat on his back on the side table, with his legs bent at the knee and his feet on the edge of the table giving me access to his anus which I proceeded to thoroughly lubricate. One thing I had learned early on in my gay-sex career – in fact from Paco Obregon, was the vital importance to a good and satisfactory fuck, of thoroughly lubricating both the active cock of the top and the passive anus and rectum of the bottom.

Finally, with these two vital steps completed, we were ready to begin. I hoisted his legs over my shoulders, holding one each side of my chest with my arms. Then with no hesitation, thrust my as ever, over- eager cock, already oozing with precum, brutally into Ray’s anus.  He let out a sigh of relief and said to me: “Liam, I have waited with impatience for this moment since you last fucked me some two weeks ago in Florida. Now, I want you to rough fuck me as hard as possible. I want you to punish my ass with your magnificent tool as hard as you can; in fact, I want to feel as if you are raping me.”

I thought to myself: “Your wish is my command, O Master.” But even though had been specifically told to simulate a rape, I could no more divorce myself completely from high ideals of the mutuality of the sex act, than I could stop myself breathing. And so, even though I was battering Ray’s ass with the ferocity of a jack-hammer, I determined  to take him through to his own climax, which is not normally a consideration of any rapist, who is committing the act purely for his own pleasure with no regard whatsoever for his victim, be it male or female.

I was already so sexually aroused before I penetrated Ray, that due to my vigorous attack on his ass, my own climax was not long in coming. I could not stop myself dumping my customary generous amount of sperm deep into Ray, leaving him with that internal, impermanent, totally useless souvenir of the act. But I determined to continue fucking him, until I had succeeded in taking him through to his own climax. I knew that I was about to succeed when Ray repeatedly uttered those magic words: “Liam, don’t stop now; please don’t stop now.”

But even with such repeated and urgent exhortations, I had found that it took considerable experience to know when one’s partner was ready for that last almighty thrust which would push him over the edge into the unique magic of the ecstasy of orgasm and ejaculation.  Luckily for me, I seemed to have developed a sort of sixth sense which told me when the exact moment had arrived to give him my final thrust.  Over the past two years, I had adopted a technique which had more or less become my signature, setting me apart from most men.

At what I judge to be the moment of truth – that now-or-never moment of no-return for Ray – I withdrew my 10 inch, iron-hard dick completely from his body and held it, exceptionally, for three, long seconds, with its head gleaming with lubricant and cum, poised, like a latter-day Sword of Damocles, three inches above his anus, before plunging its full length, with the unerring aim of experience, back inside him. However, unlike that mythical sword of Damocles, which is an omen of bad things about to happen, in performing this last, and I frankly admit, brutal gesture, I took Ray over the edge into those few fleeting seconds of unbelievably ephemeral pleasure, which are all the orgasm ever vouchsafes to us; man and woman alike. 

I felt Ray’s body shudder beneath me as he climaxed and his cock spewed out his sperm in great ejaculative gobbets, which landed all over our chests and bellies.  I knew it was the moment of satisfaction he had been ardently anticipating; but it was also one of triumph for me. I had succeeded beyond my wildest dreams; in bringing him to what was evidently a mind-bendingly intense climax, without which, to my mind, copulation, in any form, is a complete waste of time and effort. It is easy for a top to bring himself to orgasm as he fucks his bottom partner; but it is quite another matter to fuck his bottom through to a totally hand-unassisted orgasm. And, as for the simultaneous orgasm of both top and bottom partners’ to the act of anal sex; well, with the best will in the world, it is as rare as a hen’s teeth.

Speaking personally, I was completely satisfied with my performance and what I had brought to Ray.  Watching his obvious enjoyment at results of my efforts, I could fully understand why he, a rich and successful, happily married man with two children, needed anal sex for time to time. He did not have to tell men that he had enjoyed what I had just done for him; it was written all over him. There were horses for courses and from time to time, Ray clearly needed to run on one where gay-sex was permitted. I knew I had pleased him, which also was a source of great satisfaction for me; in fact, more so than the payment I was receiving for my services, which somehow still left me with a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.

I thought back over the last two years, during which I had thoroughly enjoyed practising my newly found sexual freedom, free of any financial consideration. I had thoroughly enjoyed fucking Ray just as he had evidently equally enjoyed being fucked by me; my ever present conscience was telling me that it was somehow wrong to accept payment for something I enjoyed doing and  which I would have willingly done, with the greatest of pleasure, for free. But as Kyle had said, we had already both sold our bodies for sex in Florida and had enjoyed ourselves enormously to boot; so where was the difference between now and then? Well, the difference was that I was slipping into allowing sex to become a business for me, rather than a pleasure, in which I had hitherto indulged free of any financial considerations.

The above thoughts flashed though my my head whilst Ray and I were still united by my cock buried inside him. Eventually I heaved myself up from over his torso onto which I had allowed myself to slump, tired by the effort I had put into bringing him to orgasm. For those reading this, who are inexperienced in the noble art of anal copulation, let me just affirm that fucking butt – at least the way I do it – is fucking hard work and that I was sweating like a bull from my efforts by the time I had finished with Ray and brought him to his climax. I released his legs, allowing his feet again to find the floor, took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet.

He embraced me as if I were a long-lost brother and said: “Jeezus, Liam, you really know how to give a guy exactly what he needs. That was easily the best and most vigorous fuck I have ever had in my life; and believe me, I have been fucked a lot, but never to equal what you just did for me. My God, Liam, you fuck like I imagine one of the mythical Greek Gods must have fucked. You, Liam, are a God among men when it comes to giving a guy the full enchilada with your dick.  I kid you not, when I say, with all honesty, that I have never experienced anything to measure up to the knees of what you just did to me. You, Liam, are without a shadow of doubt, the living incarnation of the biblical expression: the labourer is worthy of his hire. What more can I say to you other than that you fuck like I imagine the angels do. If ever a supplier had satisfied a customer, it is you and me today.”

We finally stood apart facing one another. Ray said: “Liam that was one hell of a fuck you just gave me.” Then looking at me and casting his eye down himself, he added, laughingly: “Pardon my French, but I have asked myself time and time again, why fucking has to be so messy, but I never seem to get an answer.  Come on, Liam, before we eat, we both need to get ourselves cleaned up; to wash away the sweat – and other things – of our travail. He put his arm around shoulder and propelled me gently towards a door which I had not noticed on entering the conference room. He opened the door, to reveal, to my complete surprise, a bathroom with a large walk in shower under which we were able to wash away both sweat and sperm.”

As we relaxed together under the warm water, he gently ran his soapy hands over my body. I sensed he wanted more from me than just the fuck I had give him and I was right. “Liam, I know that our verbal agreement was just for you to shaft me, a job, which, as I have already said, you have done to perfection. But you have so turned me on that I would like, with your permission to show my appreciation in a more positive ways than just in words.”  Then, under the running water, he then dropped to his knees in front of me, making what he wanted abundantly obvious. He then looked up at me, with pleading eyes without saying a word, to which I nodded my assent.

My cock had by now subsided into that rubbery quiescent state, in which, when it was not straining at the leash for action – a frequent occurrence, as you already know– it spent its life. Its generous malleable length descended gracefully over my balls, which were high held close to my body. Ray, an expression of relief on his face that his extra-curricular request had been granted, immediately took my bulbous, well-defined, circumcised cockhead into his mouth. As you well know, my meat, ever ready for an adventure, even one, in which it was required to do no work, responded immediately to the TLC being lavished upon it, by standing again quickly to attention and becoming rock-hard within a few seconds, announcing its readiness for any eventuality. Ray proved himself to be a very effective in the art of fellatio and succeeded in a few minutes of expert work with his his tongue in giving me, the hired help, my second orgasm of the day.

I never cease to be amazed at the speed at which a man’s body – my body specifically – recuperates from even the most intensive sex. Given the slightest encouragement, it seems always ready to go again within the shortest space of time. The quantity of sperm, I ejaculated into Ray’s mouth and all over his face amazed me. Luckily, as we were still under the shower, it was all washed away.

 A few minutes later, now fully dressed, we sat together at one end of the conference table, eating the sandwiches and drinking the coffee, which Ray had ordered by way of lunch for us. He said: “Liam, that was some experience we have both had today and I cannot ever thank you enough for allowing me to twist your arm in Florida and do something that you then were clearly hesitant about doing. I hope, however, in view of what we have just experienced together that you enjoyed our – let us call it – union, as much as I did. Liam, as I told you in Florida, you were then light years ahead of any other of your toy-boy companions; and today’s performance confirms and reinforces that view. Liam, I flatter you not, when I say, with all sincerity, that you are the brightest star in the gay firmament. Believe me Liam, I know of no one who holds a candle to you. I have never experienced, even vaguely, anything to touch, let alone to equal, what you did for me just now.”

“Now, I appreciate that in sucking you off in the shower just now, even with your permission, I was breaking the agreement under which I persuaded you to come here today.  I plead guilty; as like a thief caught with his hand in the till, I was stealing from you, for which I am ready to pay a penalty. So I thought that a little bit extra would not hurt; and to show my good faith, I would like you to take this.” Ray then handed me handed me two $100 bills and one for $50 – in compensation for my breach of contract, was the way he put it

“Liam, I have not been completely honest with you about my sex life. I told you in Florida that I was a happily married man with two children, who from time to time enjoyed having my hole drilled by another man. All that is perfectly true; but it is not the whole truth. You see, Liam, I am a bisexual man, who cannot live without having regular sex with a woman – my wife – and other men. My wife, whom I sincerely love, knows of my sexual orientation and tolerates my dalliance with men as she truly loves me as I do her and we have two children together.”

 “Liam, you have every right to tell me to fuck off; but I hope you won’t after you have heard the revised offer I am about to make to you. Look, Liam, I know nothing about you, other than that you are the best cocksman that I have ever had the pleasure of being fucked by; and believe me, both in Florida, and again today, it has been the greatest of experiences being fucked by you: you are really someone vey special, you know, I don’t know what you regularly do to earn a living, but you are obviously into gay-sex deeply enough to go on a fee-paying vacation to Florida, where your sole mission in life was to care for the sexual needs of a lot of horny guys like me.”

“So suppose I were to say I would pay you $500, for a once a week, no-holds-barred, everything-goes meeting in a small apartment I rent, just off North Michigan, would you accept?  $500 a shot is $100 above the going rate for top flight male-escorts in the Chicago area; but I think you are worth every last dime of it. So there it is; it’s for you to accept or turn down my offer. And again, I apologise for having broken our initial contract, which although just verbal I considered as a contract nevertheless.”

“I should perhaps also tell you so that you don’t get me wrong, that I share the place with another guy of the same sexual orientation as myself and that we are not an item. In fact, we hardly ever have sex with each other. It’s purely financial arrangement to keep the running costs down to a dull roar.  In fact, our paths rarely cross in the apartment, as we each apprise the other of our engagements in advance. However, from your point of view, and without any knowledge of your business  affairs or what you do for a living, if you accept my offer, you might find your might find that your services are also requested by him.”

I had listened in silence to Ray’s words. I will not pretend that I had not enjoyed having sex with him, the impromptu incident in the shower included. But even though I had reluctantly accepted his first offer, telling myself it was a temporary measure: a means of keeping the wolf from the door and maintaining my independence, I still felt uncertain about what was financially a very tempting offer. Crudely put, I would be fucking and being fucked by a denizen of the top end of Chicago society; and at $500 a shot that was not an offer to be sniffed at and rejected out of hand. But where might it lead? I had seen the present agreement with Ray as means of tiding me over until I found a permanent job – any job – which would pay me a living wage and keep me independent.

To date, as a schoolboy, until the contract in Florida, and today, I had never accepted a dime for my services, which had always been by mutual agreement with my many partners, all of whom were more or less from the same social class as I was. However, in view of the praise Ray had heaped on my capabilities and as I had repeatedly heard from my partners over the past two years, when it came to gay-sex, I had finally been convinced that I really was absolutely the bee’s knees – the cat’s meow – of an operator. Thanks to my generous endowment and my ability to use it, I was able to deliver the goods in a way few others could equal. In a word, I, ever the sceptic, had now been totally convinced that I had a special gift when it came to male-male sex.

Anyway, as Ray had now levelled with me I decided to tell him about myself. “Ray, I think I should tell you something about myself. I am just 18 years old: on January 4th in fact and I have just left school and I have no job at present. I have lived with my eldest sister all my life, but now that I am 18,  I decided that I owed it to her to move out of the house  in which I had lived with her all life, my mother and father both being dead. I have known since I was 13 that I was gay and my sister had known about my homosexuality since I was 16, when still at school, I lost my virginity to the PE instructor.”

“Well, since then, I have never looked back and have spent my last two years at school, fucking and being fucked by any male who was so inclined, which is a lot more than you might think.  Anyway, to cut a long story short, I have now moved out from living with my sister and am shacked up with a close friend called Kyle, whom you may remember from Florida.”

“To anticipate the question, which I am sure you want to ask; yes, Kyle and I do have sex together regularly; in fact, we sleep together all the time in the same bed in his one bedroom apartment in the Loop.  But, in spite of appearances, we are just good friends, both of whom finds it comfortable to have a partner to sleep with on a regular basis.  It is Kyle, whom you have to thank for my being here right now, as it was he who persuaded me, against my own judgement, to say yes to your proposition. You see, I felt if I accepted your proposition, I would be selling myself for sex, something I had never done before. Although Kyle and I, like all the other toy-boys in Florida, were both paid to provide sexual services to the guests, it somehow seemed different as no money actually changed hand with the guys we were fucking. For all of us it was like a paid sexual holiday camp.”

“Quite honestly, Ray, if you had suggested to me in Florida that we simply we get together for sex when we got back to Chicago, I would have been over here like a shot without any financial inducement ever having reared its ugly head. As it is, I have now taken the first step down the slippery slope of selling myself to you for sex; and because I desperately need it, I have taken your money and in so doing, I have sold myself down the road to perdition.  I have to tell you that I am complete addicted to sex in the way a drug addict is addicted to his regular fixes. It has become an activity without which I cannot live”

“Well, Liam, still waters run deep and you really do seem to have thought very profoundly about your sex life and its future implications. All I can suggest, given that as you are footloose and fancy free and jobless at the moment, you give very careful consideration to my offer.   Liam, you are an extremely handsome, young man with a superb body and a cock to die for, which you know how to use to perfection. You like sex, which forms a major part of your life. I would urge you not to look a gift horse in the mouth and set aside your scruples, for I can see you developing a lucrative career as a male-escort. It would be a pity to let such God-given assets and talent be wasted by taking some banal job paying the minimum wage. I urge you to think seriously about my offer, which still stands.”

So there I had it; Ray saw me as a male-escort. In spite of two years active anal copulation both as top and bottom partner to the act, I confess that I had no clear idea of the services which a male-escort offered; or whom did he escort and where to?  I admit I was somewhat wet behind the ears, still rather innocently ingenuous, when it came to the terminology of the sex trade. I had since the age of 16 when, while still at school, I had lost my virginity, never looked back. I had fucked ass and had my own ass fucked regularly, initially by my fellow members of the CCC, which had inevitably enlarged itself to a group of friends in the gay community, with whom I had sex regularly, which made up my sum knowledge of gay-sex. I had now been finally convinced by Ray, that I was regarded as someone special: someone with a magic touch – or perhaps better put, with a magic thrust – by anyone who experienced taking my ten inch boner up his fundamental orifice.

I left Ray’s office telling him that I would think over his offer and let him know shortly whether I felt could accept it or not. 

CHAPTER 23.

That night, in bed with Kyle, I had just so much to tell him before that magic moment we arrived when we, by mutual agreement, each rolled on a condom in the interests of protecting the bed in which we slept from the viscous depredations of our joint emissions and he slid himself inside me and made the nearest thing to love to me that my closest friend had ever done.

Kyle, whose advice I regularly sought and usually followed on practically everything I did, came, that night, as close as he ever had done to giving me a verbal rebuke: “So, Liam, ever the Doubting Thomas, you are finally now convinced of what I have been telling you practically since the first time you ever fucked me and as I have since told you times without number, when you fuck someone – in  fact, anyone at all – you have a completely unique, long-stroke style, which few can imitate, as it relies on your magnificently long penis, which you, quite naturally, use to perfection. You are great not only as a top, but also as a bottom, where you have a unique ability to wring the very last drop pleasure out of our partner’s penetrating cock, which you hold  in a vice-like grip with your anal sphincter, thereby helping him to reach his own climax.”

“However, when you are bottoming, not only do you help your top partner achieve his own climax inside of you, which is not all that common, but you also help him to bring you to yours. You are quite unique. Liam; whether you are fucking, or as you now are, being fucked by me; sex with you is always an experience which, as the old saying has it, never fails to please, which I why you receive so much, well-deserved praise for your efforts, both active and passive from your partners, including from me, who knows and appreciates you better than any other man, or God forbid, woman. What I somewhat regret, is that it has taken you so long to finally see that light at the end of the tunnel. Liam, it is a plain as a pikestaff to anyone you fuck, that you are somebody with a very special talent, which is not given to most of us mere mortals.”

“You should look on yourself as an artist, who gives sensuous pleasure to his partners, in much the same way as a virtuoso violinist does, when he moves an audience to tears of emotion by his rendition of Bach’s Air on the G string. You, Liam, in artistic terms, are up there with such men. I see no reason why you should shy away from using your talent as all great musicians do, to earn your living. You have a unique a talent which brings intense pleasure to both your partner and yourself. You are not forcing anyone to have sex with you; they will seek you out and come to you freely, because they discern in you that indefinable star quality, which most of us, me included, do not possess. Moreover, as you are now learning, they are ready to pay for it. I admit that the exquisite pleasure you give to other men at their moment of climax, is at the best fleeting; but that is the nature of the beast, which most men cannot resist and makes the world go round.”

“It’s crunch time for you, Liam. I urge you to put aside your scruples about accepting payment for your sexual services and exploit the God-given talent you possess, which additionally gives you personally great pleasure. I persuaded you to take your first reluctant step with Ray, which from what you tell me was a great success; indeed, so much so that since tasting your wares on his home ground, he has made you an even better offer, which I urge you to accept.”

“Ray has given you your entry ticket to the profession of male-escorting at the highest level; do not dismiss it out of hand, for it could provide you with a regular income, which you desperately need. You cannot compare the golden opportunity of becoming a top male-escort, which, if you will climb down from your high horse and open your eyes, is staring you in the face right now, with that of becoming a rent-boy, who sells himself to all-comers for a pittance. Make no mistake, Ray is just the beginning. Mark my words, Liam; he is the key to your future; let him unlock your door and allow him in.”

“Anyway, as you have already accepted direct payment from Ray for your services and the world has not ended for you, at least suck it and see. If you don’t like what you are doing, which, knowing your dedication to sex, I frankly think unlikely, you can always stop and try to find some nine-to-five, minimum-wage job to bore yourself out of your mind and join the depressed lower working-class society in this egalitarian society in which we live. The following quatrain, penned in 1910, now over a century ago by some wag called John Collins Bossidy, but still perfectly sums up the supposedly classless American society in which we live today.”

And this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where the Lowells talk only to the Cabots,
And the Cabots talk only to God.

“You, Liam, have a chance of becoming a latter day Lowell,if not a Cabot, which is a position in society not to be sniffed at. I count myself lucky; as with the same lack of any qualifications as you, I have found a job as a trainer in the gym, which suits my own temperament and I am happy with my lot in life. But you, Liam, are destined for much greater things than I aspire to and you should not let this opportunity slip through you fingers. Knowing you as well as I do, I think you will make both a success of it and enjoy what you are doing into the bargain. There, I’ve said my piece; now just knuckle down and allow me hammer my views into your obdurate mind, by giving your ass absolute hell.”

Whilst Kyle was occupied in what was his all-time, favourite pastime: fucking my ass: an activity at which, by dint of much experience he had, in my view, become very efficient. But much as I usually enjoyed being fucked by Kyle as he was now obviously enjoying fucking me, I could not lie back as I normally did and enjoy the experience. His comments had brought home dramatically to me, with not even a school leaving certificate to my name, the dreary job options open to me if I turned down Ray’s offer, of which even I had already grasped the fact that I would never see the like again. But, if I accepted it, I would be joining the oldest profession in the world: selling my body for sex as a male prostitute; for that is what I now realised was real meaning of the innocuous designation: male-escort. However, as Kyle blithely battered my ass in his usual manner, in spite of my misgivings, I found myself revising my feelings about sex for money.

As Kyle had pointed out, both he and I had been paid for our sexual services in Florida; and in spite of my misgivings, in the event, I had accepted payment in greenbacks for my services to Ray. Had I been serious about my principles, I would point blank, have turned down Ray’s overture when it was made in Florida; but I had not; and to make matters worse, I had compromised my principles even further and added insult to injury, in accepting an additional $250 from Ray for services rendered beyond the call of duty. So much for my principles, which, viewed objectively, already lay in tatters. I had, by my actions, already slithered onto the slippery downward slope.

But analysing my feelings more closely, being totally honest with myself I saw that I really wanted to accept Ray’s offer and have sex with him on a regular basis.  I gradually dawned on me, that I had already burned the boats on my high-minded ideals about sex for money, as I had already done with similar lofty principles about the mutuality of the sex act. It was gradually dawning on me, that I was living in a real world, where rich guys like Ray were ready to lay out, what to me seemed enormous sums, to satisfy their own, self-centred, sexual desires.  I was fast coming to terms with the devastating influence that sex plays in all of our lives.

Accordingly, when Kyle had finished pounding my ass to his satisfaction, I told him that he was right and that I would do as he had advised. He said, sardonically to me: “I can read you like a book Liam: I knew all along you would make the right decision as you always do, and go along with my suggestions. You have now realised that you had already thrown your high-minded, but laudable, principles out of the window when you accepted $1000 for the Florida trip.”

“You have to face facts Liam. You have exceptional gifts when it comes to sex, an act which, in my view, as your closest friend and sex partner, you cannot live without it. So why swim counter-current? Just accept things for what they are; accept yourself as you are: warts and all, and enjoy life earning your living by doing something which always gives both your partner and yourself great pleasure. Welcome, Liam, to the real world.”

With that, I began as I meant to continue, and flipped Kyle over and gave his ass a really rough hammering with my ever-ready cock which was, as ever, clamouring for action, The act consolidated a friendship which needed no confirmation and which I knew, come what may, would endure the test of time. Next morning I rang Ray and told him that I had thought things over and had decided to accept his revised proposition. In so doing I took the first positive step towards my new life, which, although I did not know it right then, was quickly to make me quite wealthy.

CHAPTER 24. 

My first meeting with Ray at his clandestine apartment took place the following Friday afternoon. I marvelled that he was obviously able to take time off work during the day to satisfy his libido. The place was on the top floor of a new condo which had been built on one of those side streets heading towards Lake Michigan, just below the iconic Drake Hotel. I saw, with a start, that it was in a new block on the same street as Paco Obregon’s apartment, in which, some two years ago, as a 16 year old schoolboy, I had lost the last vestiges of my virginity. It was a high security block, with a uniformed commissionaire on duty. When I gave him my name, he picked up a list of what I took to be the day’s admittees, ticked off my name and rang through to apprise Ray of my arrival. He then told me, quite unnecessarily, that Mr. Winters was expecting me and to take the elevator to the top floor where I would be met on arrival.

Imagine my surprise when the lift doors opened to find not Ray, but a totally unknown man, waiting for me in the corridor. This guy, who was a super-attractive looking stud, at a guess, in his mid-twenties, greeted me, saying: “Hi, you must be Liam; I’m Douglas, a friend of of Ray’s, but everyone calls me Doug.” And then he went on somewhat portentously: “Ray’s running a bit late today and has asked me to take care of you until he arrives. So let’s go inside and get you settled.  I assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that Doug was the guy with whom Ray shared the apartment as a sort of love nest, for want of a better expression.”

On hearing those two phrases, take care of you and get you settled, I was immediately alerted that something was not quite right. I had already seen that with Ray still waters ran deep and I sensed that something, I knew yet not what, was afoot. However, I saw no reason not to enter the apartment with Doug, who was, to my, by now very experienced eye, a sexually very attractive stud. I felt my cock stirring, just looking at him standing there. Ray had told me that he shared a small apartment – and I remembered his exact words – with another guy of the same sexual orientation as me and that we are not an item. In fact, we hardly ever have sex with each other. 

As I reflected on the words of that that last sentence, having learned something about Ray’s nature from the impulsive way he had taken me in the shower in his office, I found it hard to believe that he could keep his hands of Doug, who was, quite frankly, even fully dressed, a sexually a super-attractive stud, whom I already knew I too would find hard to resist if the opportunity arose, which, of course, with the certainty that night follows day, it soon did. I was already asking myself what sort of a body Doug’s formal business suit was hiding as I had liked the look of him at first glance.

As I entered the so-called small apartment, a place I had expected to be a bachelorette, in view of the fact that it was used solely as a knocking shop for gay assignations. However, I was was proved completely wrong as I was overwhelmed by its size on entering. Small was the last word I would have used to describe it. It was spacious beyond my wildest dreams. There was a huge living room, off which was a roof terrace. Like the terrace at Paco’s place it was furnished with a number of leather covered couches and table together with a multi-headed shower, which indicated that it was intended, in summer, for more than just relaxing in the sun.

As it was January, the terrace furniture was pushed back against the wall under an awning to protect from the winter weather. My mind ran riot, imagining the al fresco sex parties which I guessed must have be held on the terrace in summer. The opulence of whole apartment, terrace included, knocked Paco Obregon’s place for six. The terrace, which was totally un-overlooked as the block was the tallest one in the street, faced west, away from the lake, to catch the afternoon sun. The living room was luxuriously furnished; there was a huge kitchen diner and two large bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.  To me it was the absolute height of luxury: the way the other half – perhaps more realistically, I should say a minutely thin upper crust of very rich Americans – lived.

“Well,” said Doug, “Make yourself at home; serve yourself a drink from the bar over there – there should be some ice cubes in the deep freeze under the counter – while I change into something more comfortable than this suit.” He opened the door to the bedroom area, closing it behind him, leaving me to my own devices.

I went over to the bar and as I told you earlier, I don’t drink much alcohol at all, but I found a bottle of fizzy mineral water, a lemon and some ice cubes. “Where would America be without ice?” I asked myself, as I went and sat in an easy chair across the other side of the room to await Doug’s reappearance.

Looking across the room, I noticed a series of straight-handled, rattan canes together with several, more traditional, American style paddles hanging from hooks on the wall. Obviously more than just gay-sex was practised here.  My own experience with CCP, Consensual Corporal Punishment, was limited to the one time when I had been forced to wield the cane in Florida. I asked myself, which of the apartment’s joint owners tenants, Ray or his friend, indulged himself in such practices; or perhaps it was someone else who was allowed use the apartment.  Whichever way you looked at it, more than just gay anal sex was taking place.

Now, I am quite accustomed, as free, sexually active young man, to seeing naked men on a regular basis;  in fact, as you will recall, I had just come back from my ten day assignment in  Florida, where I had been totally naked myself and surrounded by 250 naked men, many of whose asses I had serviced. But that did not prepare me for what happened next. The door to the bedroom area opened dramatically and a stark naked Doug sallied triumphantly forth. He was wearing only his birthday suit, which was obviously his idea of something more comfortable than this suit, as he had put it; all that was missing was a trumpet fanfare to herald his re-entry.

It was not that I objected to his nudity – indeed, quite the contrary – but I was so totally bowled over by the complete unexpectedness of his re-appearance that I had figuratively to scrape myself up off the floor, onto which I had been metaphorically thrown by his unexpected nakedness. Stunned as I was, I saw immediately that my unspoken curiosity sees what Doug was concealing under his business suit had been satisfied with a vengeance; Doug was an absolutely drop-dead, well-equipped, gorgeously sexy hunk. As soon as I saw him, my cock started on its upward journey indicating its readiness for what was inevitably to come.

If I had been nonplussed by the extraordinary apparition of the naked Doug, he himself was certainly not embarrassed. I endeavoured to treat his extraordinary arrival as if it was a normal, everyday event, which for all I knew, it might well have been.  I had resolved by now to take any further surprises in my stride, which seemed to be the par for the course with Ray et al. Doug handed me an envelope, which contained a note from Ray, apologising for his lateness, nominating Doug to stand in for him (his very words) until he could free himself from the office and join us. Additionally the envelope contained $500 in the form of 25 crisp, new $20 greenbacks. So come what may, with or without Ray, he had honoured our verbal contract and I had been paid for my presence.

But it did not stop there as Doug now launched himself a tortuous, circumlocutive miasma of verbiage. Standing there, naked in front of me, with his uncontrollable man-meat now fully erect, it was plain as a pike-staff what he wanted; but like many men he found it hard to articulate the words to say simply that he wanted to fuck.

“Ray has told me all about you, Liam. So I am aware that your present visit is by way of being a business meeting for you. However, as you may by now have guessed, I am of similar sexual inclinations to Ray. So, as we are now together here with time on our hands, I wonder if you would  consider giving me the benefit of what I understand are your unique abilities. Ray has already advised me of your charges, which are totally acceptable, given the exceptionally high quality of your services, which Ray assures me is your hallmark. And so if you are agreeable to my suggestion I would be quite happy to pay you $500 for the privilege of experiencing your exceptional ability.”

I listened with ever increasing amazement to this rigmarole of verbosity before finally bringing Doug down to earth with a pithy, call-a-spade-a-spade remark: “So let me get this right, Doug;  you want me to fuck you here and now, for which service you will  pay me $500: Is that right?”

“Well, I would not have expressed it quite so bluntly myself; but if you put it like that, then I suppose that is what I want.”

“Agreed,” I said, thinking to myself that these guys are just so stinking rich; they throw $100 dollar bills  around as if they were Monopole money. What Doug had not realised was that I had found him so sexually attractive, I would have had sex with him there and then, free, gratis and for nothing. So you can imagine how my man-juices were now mounting, with him standing in front of me in all his naked glory, which is not an exaggerated statement of how he looked. My cock, that ever faithful indicator of the state of readiness of my libido, had, as I mentioned earlier, had already given me its customary advance signal of its desire to play ball.

Now, however, with a totally aroused Doug standing in front of me and practically begging me to fuck him, I could no longer control myself. I stood up, advanced towards him with my ten-inch cannon practically boring a hole in the crotch of my pants and put my arms around his neck making our first body contact by kissing him firmly on the mouth, thereby breaking the ice between us. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and relaxed for a moment, before starting to help me tear off my clothes.

Not a word had passed between us since I had agreed to fuck him, as both of us, now totally naked, stood facing and assessing the other. Doug viewed my ten-inch boner with a look combining awe with longing and said:  “Jeezus H. Christ, Liam, Ray told me you were big; but there is big and big and you are positively ginormous.” Then he dropped to his knees in front of me and before I could stop him – not, by the way that, at that moment, I would have wanted to– he was sucking furiously at my knob, which showed its delight at was happening to it, by leaking copious amounts of precum. Now as a by now, died-in-the-wool, highly experienced gay of 18, which I think can claim to have become after two years of intensive sex with other guys, this was not the first time my dick had been subjected to intense fellatio.

However, I quickly saw that Doug was an expert at oral sex. As he was voraciously devouring – there is no other way of describing it –my dick with his mouth and tongue, it rapidly became evident that he wanted more from me than just to suck me off. As he took even more of my meat into his mouth, it became increasingly obvious that he wanted me to fuck his face. Who was I to stop him in his task, which I was enjoying as much as he evidently was and additionally was being paid handsomely for it? I therefore showed my willingness to collaborate in the act, which he alone had just initiated, by thrusting to and fro with my cock in his mouth in the classic fucking motion. To my utter amazement, he managed to take six inches of my length down his mouth and down his gullet. How he did not gag on the sheer volume of the rock-hard, man-meat I thrust down his throat, I have no idea; but the fact of the matter is that he somehow did not.

But now occurred something I had never before experienced in oral sex. He was so persistent and expert at what he was doing that I quickly climaxed into orgasm in his mouth and ejaculated my customary, generous load of sperm in a series of three, well-defined, shuddering spurts, partly down his throat, partly into his mouth, but mainly all over his face, as he was disengaging himself from my cock. To say I was transported into seventh heaven by his efforts was the understatement of all time; but then orgasm, however induced, is always a super-agreeable sensation

I rank this impromptu, totally unplanned, encounter with Doug, as one of the best sexual experiences of my life. I found myself totally humbled by the competence of my partner and vowed to myself that when shortly my turn arrived to show my paces to the man who, in spite of his being my de facto, second client, had taking the lead in our very first encounter, I would not disappoint him.

In the post-oral copulation pause, during which Doug retire briefly to the bathroom to clean my spunk of his face, I wondered what position  he would adopt for our first – I sort of presumed that there would be others – act of anal sex together. I did not have long to wait not to wait. Although Doug had had difficulty in expressing verbally his initial desire to have sex with me, in the event, he had shown himself to be most decisive when it came to action.

Just as he had taken the lead in the oral sex we had just had together, without saying a word, he now laid himself down on his back on the table in the living room, with his ass towards the edge, indicating that he wished to be taken in the modified mission position. This is my own favourite position when I am acting as top. I have found that by holding my partner’s legs vertical against my chest, a comfortable position for both of us, in what can often be an awkward act due to the inconvenient position of the key parts of the anatomy involved, I can comfortably fuck with maximum force and ensure that I satisfy my partner’s aspirations, which may not always be in accordance with my own.

Doug and I had had no discussion about what he hoped to experience from our liaison. However,  I had decided in my own mind that as an absolute minimum, I would fuck him hard and long enough at least to take both of us to orgasm, which if not occurring simultaneously, would nevertheless be produced uniquely by my efforts with my cock with no hand assistance, either for him or me. Now I appreciate that most men are not attuned to this approach to gay-sex; but in the case of Doug, to whom I had taken a tremendous liking, I wanted to show him what I was capable of.  I wanted to demonstrate, as a matter satisfaction for him and of pride for me, that I was worthy of the praise which not only Ray, but countless others, had heaped on me.

If I was to enter the profession of gay escort, which with with every passing fuck, reinforced by exhortations from Kyle, looked ever more likely, I wanted to live up to my evidently burgeoning reputation as a guy with a special gift when it came to gay-sex. I had no doubt at all that visually I had all the attractive visual accoutrements of muscle and cock size, of which I was justifiably proud. However, there is more to sex than just being admired for one’s kit, which if that was all I had to offer, I might as well just become a male stripper and sink back into the obscurity where I had spent my entire life to date.

At the end of the day, the proof of the pudding is, as ever, in the eating. I had already permitted my second client, for that was how I had already come to think of Doug, who had taken me, sight unseen, on Ray’s recommendation, to seize the moral high ground and dominate our nascent relationship, by sucking me off. I saw with the wisdom of hindsight that I should have stopped him dead in his tracks as soon as I saw his intention and asserted my dominant authority. But I had not done so; I had allowed Doug to exercise himself on me when it should have been the other way around. I saw that I would have to work hard to retrieve the dominant position which I had so carelessly lost.

Whether or not Doug appreciated the situation between us, as dominator and dominated, in the same light as I did, we shall never know.  I saw that I now had chance to redeem the ground I had lost to him as he was lying vulnerably immobile, on the table, waiting for me to administer the not-so-tender-loving-care with my cock to his anus, which he was so obviously craving.  I retrieved a tube of anal lubricant from the pocket of my discarded jacket and lubed up both my cock and his anus. I did not ask him whether he wanted to fuck bareback or with condoms. Instead I hoisted his legs brusquely against my chest, held them in the normal vertical position thrust my ten inches of naked hard meat straight into his waiting anus. 

I felt a strong resistance from his anal sphincter muscles, to my attack, which he maintained for the entire time I was hammering his ass. In a word, Doug was up there with the best and proved a fucking good fuck! Thanks to his continued anal grip on my cock, my own climax came quickly. I soon could no longer hold myself back any longer and dumped my entire load, deep inside him, in a sequence of violent, shuddering, ejaculative spurts, with one final, monumental thrust of my cock. I somehow felt that in dominating him in the way I clearly had gone a long way to redeem the high ground I had lost to him earlier. I was nevertheless sorry that I had not been able to hold myself back long enough to bring him to his orgasm at the same time as mine.

But I was true to my promise to myself that come what may, I would pound him as long as it took, until he climaxed himself. When it finally happened, it was again with explosive intensity. His ejaculations seemed to go on for ages, although in fact they were, as ever, over in a few seconds.

But something else happened whilst I was intent on fucking Doug, I suddenly, quite unexpectedly felt a well-lubricated cock pushed forceful into my anus, which was exposed to all comers. As I was not expecting a visitor, I glanced around over my shoulder to see who was the owner of the adventitious penis I had inside me, to find, of course, that it was Ray. He had entered the apartment unheard by either Doug or me, whilst we were diligently doing our thing and had seen an opportunity, which he had taken.

So there we were: the two tenants – or so I thought – of the apartment and I, all of us naked, with me, the hired help, sandwiched between my first two paying clients, in a sexual ménage à trois. I was totally surprised to find Ray unexpectedly penetrating my anus, but had no reason to object to what was happing, which I saw as a somewhat novel development.

I continued my mission to bring Doug to his climax, which, as I have already said above, when it came, was with almost explosive violence. Ray, meanwhile, showed himself to be a highly experienced top, in spite of his initial story to me of being a regular, happily married guy, who just needed his ass fucking from time to time.  He quickly aligned his rhythm to mine. After Doug had climaxed and had shot his wad all over me and himself, he somehow managed to disengage himself from my cock and extricate himself from under both Ray and me, leaving me in the doggy position over the table still impaled by Ray’s penis.

Doug, who, as I was to learn, was quite fastidious about his appearance, repaired to the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving me with Ray’s dick still firmly implanted inside me. Ray was now hell bent on one thing only: satisfying his sexual desires of the moment on my ass, which he proceeded to pound relentlessly. I realised that he did not give what is obscenely put as a mother’s fuck for how I might be feeling as a result of his impromptu – and frankly – unwarranted action. I divined, from the vigour of his actions that his only objective was to shoot his load into me, after which I would be left to fend for myself.

However, in spite of my resentment at what Ray was doing to me, I found myself really quite enjoying as he was proving himself to be a very competent, albeit self-centred top. And so I found myself apologising on his behalf to myself for what he was still in course of doing to me. As he had already confessed to me that he was a totally bisexual guy, I reasoned that his sexual urge was just so strong that at times it led to completely spontaneous behaviour, which one regrets immediately afterwards. And so it was now; he had seen my anus attractively available, had not been able to control himself. Exactly as as I had anticipated, when he reached his only goal: that of his  own climax, he violently ejaculated his load deep inside me and then withdrew completely and threw himself onto the floor, sweating like a bull, exhausted by his self-centred efforts, leaving me, high and dry.

His first post-copulative comment was: “That was one of the best fucks I have ever had in my life. You are truly amazing, Liam; you made me sing for my supper the whole time. I have never had my dick gripped the way you did with your anal muscles; boy oh boy, fucking you was really hard work; but the end result was worth the effort. I have never ever had such an intense orgasm as the one I had just now, thanks largely to your efforts.”

Fulsome praise indeed! But I asked myself what I had consciously done to help Ray. Sure, I had gripped his dick with my anus muscles as he was pumping me. But that was something I did automatically for any guy for whom I was bottoming. However, as it was a comment I had heard many times before, I had been gradually forced to the  conclusion that I must be doing something which other guys were not doing; or, at least, were not doing as well as I did. I began to wonder if I had stronger anal muscles than the average guy.

One thing was for sure: I was certainly better endowed than most guys and I knew how to use what I had to its best advantage. But when bottoming, I failed to discern what many guys told me was so special and made fucking me so very different from, and better than other guys. However, I decided by now that I had better just accept the comments in the spirit in which they were made. Beauty is, as ever, in the eye of the beholder; so right or wrong, such favourable comments burnished my image as someone special; so who was I to complain?  I had already realised that image was important, especially if I were seriously to pursue a career as a male-escort, which seemed increasingly probable with each passing minute.

Quite suddenly Ray’s mood of euphoric satisfaction turned into one of self-recrimination, as the impact of what he had just done suddenly hit him. It was not that the act of anal sex in itself was offensive –quite the contrary – as I had enjoyed enormously his vigour; I didn’t give a toss myself that I had been taken unawares; but the way he had gone about it had evidently turned into rape, what should have been an agreeable act for both him and me. He now felt thoroughly ashamed of himself; as well he should have. I saw where he was going with his mea culpa – forgive me father for I have done wrong – I almost said, act; but that would have been wrong, as I was sure that his regrets were genuine.

He was now grovelling – not quite on his knees, but figuratively – asking me to forgive him for what he had just done. What he did not know was that beneath my superficial, façade of indignation, I did not give a fig that he had penetrated me unawares and that I had actually enjoyed having my ass rough fucked, even though he had dumped me in a state of suspended animation to fend for myself in the aftermath of his self-centred, carnal pillaging. 

However, I had serious questions about his sex life, which was much more extensive than he had first led me to believe; not that that worried me unduly either; but I just wanted him to level with me. But, at the moment, I held the high-ground and had no intention of allowing him to get away scot-free from his duplicity. I gave him a hand and pulled him off the floor to his feet, by which time Doug had reappeared from his ablutions.  In spite of the fact that Ray and Doug were both paying me for my services me for my services, I felt that I had some justification for taking Ray to task.

However, I fell flat my first with my first remonstrance, when I said to Ray: “I thought, Ray, you told me that you and your co-tenant never used this place together, but I see now that that is not so. Here we are, the three of us, not only in this place together, but having three-man sex with each other”   I avoided using the word lie, as I felt that was just too accusatory and I did not want to totally upset the apple cart of the budding commercial relationship with either of them, I directed this remark, quite pointedly, at Ray, as Doug had been sent by him to meet me.

Ray’s reply quite took the wind out of my sails: “Liam, what I told you about the use of the apartment is quite correct. You have got the wrong end of the stick in assuming that Doug is my co-tenant when he is my closest and most intimate friend. My co-tenant is a guy called Robert Nadolna, usually known as Rob, whom you have not met;  but I hope you soon will do so, as I have given him your name and phone number and told him that you are someone he should get  to know; I am sure you see what I mean by get to know.”

“Now, Liam, I know I owe you an apology for my duplicity. I had already told you belatedly that I am bisexual and needed sex regularly with other guys. What I had not told you is that I had a regular sex partner in Doug here, who is in much the same as position as me. We are both married, bisexual men, who lead dual lives. Hard to believe though it might be, both our wives accept us for what we are; or perhaps I should say tolerate our extramarital activities, for our children’s sake. The thing is that both Doug and I, who are, by the way, in our gay incarnations, by way of being an item, still like to play the field outside of our mutual relationship, which is where you come in.”

“You, Liam are quite special when it comes to gay-sex. I have had a great deal of experience with countless other guys and I can say with some conviction that none of them measures up to even to your knees when it comes to delivering the goods. Liam, you have, in spades, like no man I have ever met, the capability of adding that exhilarating variety, which is said to be the spice of life, to any relationship. such as the one which Doug and I enjoy.”

“Oh just one other thing; I do not rent this apartment; Nadolna Realty and Winters Investments jointly own it.  In fact they own the entire building, which they built together in partnership as an upmarket apartment block, which is rented out and for which Nadolna Realty the managing agent. Robert Nadolna, the present CEO of Nadolna Realty is also a somewhat distant friend who is of the same sexual persuasion as Doug and me, which is why I gave him your name, as rumour has it that he may be in need of your services. So there you have it on a plate, Liam. I do hope that my precipitate actions just now have not soured our fledgling relationship.” 

What was I supposed to say after this apology and explanation? I quite understood why Ray had initially been reluctant to divulge his full involvement and obvious devotion to gay-sex. Ray and Doug were the first AC/DC men I had ever met and I could understand, given their marital statuses with children that they did not wish their two-sided involvement with sex to be broadcast. Now knowing the truth of the matter, I decided to swallow my indignation at being somewhat led up the garden path by Ray and let matters ride.

Being brutally honest with myself, I knew that my decision not to make a fuss about being misled was not totally altruistic, as I had I had quite enjoyed my initial dalliance with male-escorting, I had more or less decided to take Kyle’s advice (when did I ever not?) and attempt to make a career out of it. I was sufficiently self-centred to see that it would have been folly to throw away my first two, potentially repeat clients on a matter of principle. I was sufficiently aware of the urgent need to earn my own living and I had now $1000 cash in my pocket, $500 each from Ray and Doug, as a result of my first efforts. It was becoming obvious, even to me, that being a top-flight purveyor of gay-sexual services to wealthy businessmen, could provide me with a comfortable living, doing something which, into the bargain, I myself really enjoyed.  But just how very lucrative being recognised as a top male-escort could be, I was soon to find out.

CHAPTER 25.

That night, back at Kyle’s place – our place – I regaled him with all that had happened and told him that I had finally decided to take his advice and give gay-escorting a whirl. I had decided that it was now or never. What I had I got to lose? I had no other job in view and had two, rich clients on my doorstep, who, if handled properly would become regular customers for my services and could bring me in $2000 a month: a fortune by my standards. Not only that, Ray Winters had already recommended me to Robert Nadolna, his realtor friend and co-owner of the apartment used by them only for sexual assignations.

I realised that I had been lucky and that both Ray and Doug were wealthy businessmen to whom money was no object; they both plainly had money to burn to pay out out $500 a shot for my services.  I marvelled that anyone would ever pay out such enormous sums, just to have his ass fucked; but who was I to argue, when I was the one receiving the cash? And to boot, I really enjoyed fucking other men; so the decision to knave my luck at being a professional male escort, was really a no-brainer.

This readiness to shell out huge sums for sex reinforced the idea that I really did have something special to offer over and above other men. I had long been told at I was exceptional by countless guys, including my CCC pals, with all of whom I had had sex regularly over the past two years, because both they and I both wanted and needed to fuck on a regular basis. It was a way of passing a pleasant time together, doing something which we all enjoyed: occasions on which the question of money never raised its ugly head.

But first with the Florida adventure under my belt, and now with Ray and Doug both panting for my services, it was quite a different kettle of fish. There were obviously men who had the means and were willing to pay what seemed to me to be ludicrous sums, to satisfy their sexual needs, which in Ray’s case seemed insatiable.

Kyle was as pleased as punch that I had finally taken the decision to make a serious attempt at becoming a male-escort; one which he had urged me to make and for which he took a major part of the credit. “I knew that you would make the right decision eventually; you usually do. Frankly, Liam with your assets and magnetism, which draw other men to you as a magnet attracts iron, I don’t know why it took you so long to make up your mind.” 

I thought I detected a slight smugness in his voice. However, his congratulations were tempered with caution, as he went list some of the hurdles which had to be faced. The advantage of having Kyle as my best and truest friend, my most regular sex partner and, most importantly, in spite of his being only slightly older than me, my father confessor, was that unlike me, he thought things through and did not flinch from facing the harsh realities of life. Here was the one guy in my life, who told me things the way they were and who held my feet firmly on the floor, never pulling his punches.

“Well now that you have decided to cross the Rubicon, I suggest you give some serious thought as to how to organise your embryo business of selling your body for sex, as you so elegantly put it. You have, so far, been extremely fortunate in your sex-for-money dealings, in that you have been able to deliver the goods on all three occasions on somebody else’s premises. In Florida, on your, or perhaps I should have said, our first body-selling venture, we were in a vacation resort and did not have to worry where to fuck the guests.”

“Later back in Chicago, you serviced Ray Winters, first in his office; then on the second occasion when you met and serviced Doug and him, again it was in an apartment owned by your first true client, Ray.  What do you do now, if as I suspect will happen, Robert Nadolna, Ray’s partner in the apartment block, calls you to book a service visit? I don’t know, but it might well be that he suggests you fuck him at your place rather than his. I hope he invites you back to his place to do the deed; but if not, what do you do then? You cannot quite frankly, bring him back here to this dump of a place in which we live”.

“I don’t say that it will happen with your next client, whoever he is; but as sure as eggs is (sic) eggs, it is going to happen. You are going to find yourself obliged to have a place to which can take your clients to do the deed. Moreover, in view of the extreme top-end of the market, in which you seem, by extremely good luck, to have made a good start, I think, Liam, you have to think immediately about renting a place suitable for the type of client you are aiming for. In other words it has got to be in a decent building. This crummy place we live in, which suits both of us fine, would not be at all acceptable to a client, from whom you are taking $500 for a shot of your cock.”

“As the saying has it: there are horses for courses; you, my friend, have not only to choose horses with a pedigree, but you also need the right course on which to mount your steed having got him. Don’t get me wrong; it does not have to be a big place; but it has to be in a high quality building, in keeping with the status of the clientele you are, or should be, aiming at. If you take my advice, you will start canvassing the letting agencies PDQ to see if you can find a suitable place.”

“As you are shortly to receive your share of the proceeds from the sale of your house, you will have cash to pay the rent on a place and for appropriate furnishings. I know it will be hard on you to part with cash on such a speculative venture, but I would not suggest you to do so unless I thought it was absolutely necessary; which I really do. Liam, you have to speculate to accumulate. You have got off to a good start; so do not let potential success slip between you fingers. Carpe diem or seize the day; otherwise put, strike now whilst the iron is hot.”

I listened to this advice, which I saw was sensible. And, no sooner had Kyle finished his latest words of wisdom, than my cell phone rang and, as Kyle had predicted, it was Robert Nadolna, who wanted to book a service call with me. In common with a lot of other gay guys seeking sex with someone he did not know, he was obviously having difficulty in finding the words to say that he wanted me to fuck him and to say that he was willing to pay for the privilege of experiencing my sexual expertise. However, in a roundabout way, he eventually got there.

He began, “Hi, am I speaking to Liam?” I confirmed that he was and the voce continued:  “Liam, you don’t actually know me as we have never met; however you may be familiar with my name: Robert Nadolna, but most folks call me Rob.  Anyway, I was talking recently to a mutual acquaintance, Ray Winters, whom you may possibly remember you met in Florida over Christmas and New Years.” He had to be kidding with the possibly remember bit, as I had just fucked Ray only a few hours ago. However, he rambled tortuously on and on, without actually ever spelling out unequivocally what he wanted.

“Ray indicated to me that you were expert in providing, on a confidential basis, certain services which both he and I require from time to time. From your silence, I take it that you understand the type of services to which I am referring?  Well, Liam, taking as read that we both now understand each other (Note that I had not said a single word other than to confirm my name!) I wonder if you could manage to fit me into what is your obviously busy schedule sometime in the near future to experience personally, first-hand for myself the quality of your services. So might I suggest next Thursday, at say three in the afternoon as the date and time for our first meeting? As far as place is concerned, I believe Ray has already shown you the apartment we share together for just such purposes; so, if you are agreeable of course, we could meet there.”

“More first-ass than first-hand,” I cynically thought, smiling to myself at this contorted tautological monologue. However, I had also noted that he had said; our first meeting, which implied an ongoing commitment to purchase my services.

But he had not yet finished: “Ray Winters has told me of your fees for the type of services you provide, which I think now that we obviously understand each other so well, need not, at present, be spelled out in greater detail. Your charges are totally acceptable and in line with what Ray tells me one has to pay in Chicago for just such expert, professional services as you provide. Perhaps you could let me know (he gave me his phone number) if my suggested date and time for our first encounter are convenient for you, in which case we could meet directly at the apartment, of which you already know.”

I can say with some degree of certainty that if the above monologue, for only he had spoken, had been recorded and a written verbatim transcript made of what he had said, no one would have had the slightest idea of what services and at what price had been agreed. Rob could have been making an appointment with a dentist or for a physical therapy session, which in a way, I suppose he was.  The word, sex never reared its ugly, but nevertheless significantly important, head.

It was as if consensual sex between men had been forbidden, even to be mentioned out loud by law, which it was most certainly not. Anyway, I decided to bring him back from his vapid verbal meanderings by leading him through the commonest of the homosexual acts, in utterly dispassionate clinical language, before bringing back to earth in no uncertain terms, by calling a spade a spade.

So before he had time to ring off, I said to him: “Mr. Nadolna…” I got no further than his name, as he immediately interrupted me saying: “Please call me Rob.”  Slightly stretching the truth about myself, I began again, quite brutally, calling a spade a shovel:  “Rob, I am not quite sure what services you require from me. Could you be more specific as to what you think I can do for you? Now I am, by profession a highly experienced male-escort, providing a variety of sexual services to my clients.”

“For example, the commonest type of service is that which is usually referred to as anal and penis stimulation. There are two possibilities. The first is where the client acts as bottom, and allows the escort to insert his own penis into his client’s rectum and stimulate him to a sexual climax, which is, or at least, should be, the culmination every sex act. This is, far and away, the most frequent service provided by most professional male-escorts.”

“However, there are certain clients who prefer the inverse; in which case it is the escort, who assumes the bottom function and allows his client to insert his own penis into the escort’s anus, thereby allowing the client to stimulate himself to his climax. A truly diligent client will, of course, also stimulate his bottom escort to his climax; but in the words of the proverb: the escort must first catch his hare: a very elusive animal!”

“Then, of course, there are the oral aspects of sex between two males, of which the most common, fellatio, is the stimulation of the one’s penis by labial and lingual efforts of the other. Fellatio is usually considered as foreplay to anal sex. As with anal intercourse, either escort or client can submit his penis to fellatio. However, it is usually practised by the top on the bottom’s penis, prior to his anal penetration of the bottom.”

“The other is the act of oral sexual intercourse, in which the mouth of the bottom partner, replaces his anus as the place into which the top thrusts his penis. This version of oral sex only gives the top partner a climax to the act, when he ejaculates his sperm into the mouth and throat and all over the face of his partner.”

Having described to Rob with clinical precision in non-vulgar language the key acts of gay-sex, I now took off the gloves and zapped it to him, calling a spade a spade. I began by being positive:
“Rob, the, date, time and place you suggest for our first encounter – I  chose that word purposely –  are absolutely fine as I am free that afternoon  until about five. However as I would hate to disappoint you, I thought it would be better if I knew beforehand exactly what you expect of me.” I now gave it to him in plain language, full broadside, all guns blazing: “Rob the purpose of our first encounter is to fuck; but I need to know if you want me to fuck you, or if you want to fuck me, or if you want to do both, which is always a possibility.”

I knew that I had laid it on in spades. In asserting that I was a highly experienced, professional male-escort, I was, of course stretching the truth to the limit, but I considered myself an artist, who was exercising what I think is called artistic licence  Highly experienced at sex, I was; but a highly experienced male-escort I was not. I had purposely avoided using excessive vulgarisms, which pithily describe the two commonest acts of gay-sex, before going on to lay out to him his principal options in the most direct way possible, in language, which although commonly used, would make many people blush with embarrassment After I had said my piece, there was a long silence, during which I thought I might have blown it with my next client with my aggressive delivery.

But then Rob said: “Well, Liam, thank you for setting me straight on my options; you have certainly clarified my thinking and I see exactly where you are coming from. However you might understand my difficulty in putting into words exactly what I actually wanted, if I tell you that this will be the first time I will have sex with a professional providing the sort of services, which you have just described in such graphically vivid detail. Like many men, I find talking about sex difficult.”

“However, taking a leaf out of your straight-speaking book, I think for starters I would just like to test the temperature of the water, by you sucking me off and then fucking my ass with, what I understand from Ray, is your highly exceptional and efficient cock. Ray has praised you to high heaven as God’s gift to the likes of mere mortals like him, who need regular sexual gratification almost as often as a drug addict requires a fix and who are looking for the ultimate sexual experience, which, according to Ray, is what you deliver.  So if you could come around to the apartment, which you already know, on Thursday at 3 p.m. we will take it from there.”

Kyle had, of course, listened-in to this entire conversation as Rob had called me just as Kyle had finished giving me his latest advice. He said to me: “You really did not spare that poor guy, Liam, telling him so clearly the facts of life. However for better or for worse, at least he now knows which end is up. For what it is worth, my analysis of the situation is that Nadolna is a hesitant sort of gay, who needs some schooling in the finer points of gay-sex. In you, my friend, he has found the right teacher. Treat him right and my view is you will have him eating out of your hand on no time at all and you will have hooked him as a client for life. Liam, I am quite sure that this guy has never experienced sex the way you deliver it, which is what makes you so special.”

“Now I recall that you told me that Robert Nadolna was a realtor. Perhaps when you meet him you could sound him out on apartments to let on the market. You need to get that question settled once and for all in the very near future. One word of caution; treat any offer he might eventually make you on a strictly business basis. Get a legal rental agreement and pay the rent. Do not allow yourself to be inveigled into a quid- pro-quo deal, where you get a reduced rent in return for certain free sexual services.”

“You are trying to develop an escorting business. Always bear in mind that it is business and do not allow your escorting business to become mixed up with your personal relationships, of which you have many. The two not only should, but absolutely must, remain separate, or you might find yourself coming a cropper. Remember the saying:  east is east and west is west and never the twain shall meet and you will not go far wrong.”

“But now, I think I have given you enough advice for one day, for which I should be rewarded. Strip off and let me lube up your august anus. I am desperately in need of a fuck right now, and you, Liam, owe me one. For the moment you will, have to shelve your dreaming of stuffing your oversize member up the ass of someone rich and famous and make do with taking my puny dick up your own ass. Jump to it, young man, as I am really getting desperate and need a fuck right now. However, if you are really cooperative and play ball with me, later on I might even allow you to exercise your manhood on me.”

 I knew Kyle had a way with words, but he was joking of course, downplaying his own ability, when he referred to his own dick as puny, which it was most certainly not. So we spent the next two hours making love together. Sex between Kyle and me was always loving even when it became rough, as it did at times. But we both slid our cocks into each other as if putting on an old and comfortable pair of shoes.

CHAPTER 26.

Thursday afternoon arrived and I duly presented myself at the appointed hour at Ray’s and Rob’s shared apartment. Rob, was only my third client, whom I had never met, having only spoken to him, somewhat acerbically on my part, on the phone.  Rob met me off the elevator and proved to be a tall, attractively handsome man in his early twenties, who, like his friends, Ray and Doug, at first sight, judging from his fully clothed figure, was someone who looked after his body.  My eyes immediately dropped to his crotch, where my ever hungry eyes saw he was sporting an attractive bulge, a good sign, at first sight promising, a fruitfully agreeable afternoon together. But first sight can often be misleading.

I think it was at that precise moment that it hit me; I belonged to that rarefied part of gay society, in which practically everyone I knew and had had sex with, was a handsome, muscular, body-conscious stud with a sizeable endowment: Paco Obregon, to whom I had lost my virginity, aged 16, his partner Darren Joshua, Kyle and all my friends at the CCC, with whom I had regular sex, and finally, my first clients, Ray and Doug , were all exactly like me: body conscious, physically well-endowed, virile young men. And now, at first sight, Robert Nadolna, looked as though he had been cut from the same cloth; he belonged to that same stratum of muscular, sexually well-endowed  gay society, into which I had somehow, accidentally graduated, which I felt comfortable with and to which I now belonged. 

Looking back over the past two years at the countless unnamed guys whom I had picked up for one-night-stands, I saw that the places I had patronised in search of sex, were all up-market gay bars and clubs, rather than their sleazy equivalents. They were all frequented principally by well-endowed young guys, who, like me, looked after and were proud of their bodies. We were all from the same mould. I now saw clearly that I had moved into, or more accurately put, through my choice of venue and partners, found myself accidently, in a segment of gay society, in which the majority of members were body-conscious, muscular, sexually well-equipped young men just like me.

It was not one which embraced at all, the short and the tall, the fat and thin, the ordinary looking and the downright ugly, those with outlandishly big dicks and those with titchy little ones, and all the myriad of other physical types, which make up humanity, of which the homosexual segment has its fair share. I realised that the rarefied and somewhat exalted part of gay society into which I had, quite by chance, drifted, with no design aforethought at all, was one of beautiful, sexually attractive, muscular young men all of whom I admired.

There was obviously some truth in the maxim: birds of a feather flock together. Was I disturbed that I had accidentally found myself in what might be defined as elite and exclusive group of gay young men, who eschewed anyone who did not fit their profile: undefined in words, but nonetheless easily discernible? No, not at all; for I saw that it was basically my natural physical body-type, over which I had no control which had got me where I was today. I had been told by Paco Obregon that I was of a physical type defined as mesomorphic, which gave me my natural lean, strong, and muscular build.  This, I had greatly enhanced by my regular hours in the gym after school, and built myself into the sexually attractive, muscular figure aged 18 that I then was.

However, I owed my status as a gay-sex super-star, which everyone told me I was, not only to my attractive muscularity, but also to my generous penis, which I confess was my pride and joy. My cock gave me and countless other men, a great deal of possibly the greatest pleasure known to man, which once experienced becomes completely addictive.  It was not every day that one encountered an erect, well circumcised, dead straight, ten inch long erection like mine,

Robert Nadolna hustled me quickly into the apartment as if he did not want to be seen by anyone in my presence, where we stood for a few seconds looking at each other.  I saw that he appeared to be still somewhat ill at ease with the fact that he was paying for sex, for the first time in his life, with someone, whom he thought was an experienced professional escort. Professional at delivering the goods, I most certainly was; but as for being an experienced escort, I most certainly was not. I felt somewhat of a fraud; but assuaged my ever present conscience, which was pricking me, by promising myself that I would take Rob to sexual heights of delight, that he had never even imagined existed, let alone experienced.

Had Rob been a weedy type faced with stripping off and exposing his all to an unknown, obviously muscular guy like me, his demeanour would have been understandable. But but he was not at all a weedy type overshadowed by some muscular giant; in fact he was, fully dressed, as he now was, as visually attractive a young stud as one could ever wish to meet; and yet he was clearly embarrassed to be in my presence, at a meeting which he had organised. Rob was the type, whom I would have picked up at the drop of a hat for a one night stand. All in all, he had that quality which makes guys like me water at the mouth; he was just so visibly sexually attractive that I could barely wait to get his clothes of and my cock up his ass.

I doubt that he was aware of the fact, looking at me, as he was, in a slightly apprehensive way, that I, the so-called professional escort in front of him, wanted to to fuck him as much as I hoped he wanted to be fucked by me. That faithful barometer between my legs, which is never wrong in predicting my state of sexual arousal, was rising so fast that I was it was forecasting a storm, accompanied by earth-shattering, ejaculative emissions of my ever copious sperm.  I saw that I was losing control of myself just looking at the gorgeous figure in front of me and said: “Well, Rob, we are not going to get very far standing here; so might I suggest we strip for action.”

With a definite reluctance on Rob’s part, we slowly moved together into one of the bedrooms, into which I had not, until now, been. I immediately stripped myself naked and turned towards him, with my cock jutting out resolutely in full firing mode, pointing its rock-hard ten inches firmly at him. To my surprise, I saw he was shaking like an aspen leaf and had not even begun to remove his clothes. He looked at me standing there in front of him, his eyes focused on my cock, a gaze that combined admiration with fear. He motioned towards a side table on which an envelope lay and said: “There’s your money, Liam, $500 as agreed. Please take it, as now that crunch time is actually here, I am not at all sure that I can go through with it; but take the money anyway, as compensation for me wasting your time.”

On hearing this, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Here I was, obviously ready to fuck, standing in front of Rob in all my naked glory – and, let’s face it, putting false modesty aside, I am a really attractive eyeful for any gay young man looking for sex – being told by the very guy, who had got me there specifically for sex, that he could now no longer go through with it. I could not believe my ears; but I was determined not to give up yet.

What Rob did not know was that I found him, even fully clothed, just so sexually attractive on first sight that I had no intention of letting him go without fucking him.  I could barely wait to get his clothes off to see if in the raw he measured up to my expectations. If Rob had thought that by saying that he was not at all sure that he could go through with it, then he had better think again; I was determined not to let such a luscious hunk gay manhood off the hook without a struggle.

My cock, which was pointing directly at him and was already dribbling delicious drops of precum, should have told him the whole story: that the escort standing naked in front of him, whom he was paying to have sex with him, had himself the hots for his client. I had no intention of disappointing my cock, which had risen expectantly to the occasion so many times in the past, only to find itself slapped down and told to behave itself. There was no reason why it should not have its day in the sun today as it had reported for duty admirably and was standing to attention, primed and awaiting instructions; I was determined not to disappoint it. Quite frankly, I had taken such a liking to Rob on first sight that I did not give a fig for the money on the table; I was just so aroused that come what may, I just wanted to fuck him; and like it or not, fucked he was going to be!

It was obvious to me that Rob had somehow developed a hang-up about having sex. Was it just seeing me naked and the size of my cock, which at first sight can be somewhat intimidating, that had put him off? I did not think so, as I had seen from our phone conversation that he had difficulty in articulating his wishes. In fact, getting him to state what he actually wanted had been like drawing blood from a stone. And even before we actually entered the apartment he had seemed ill at ease; still fully dressed and watching me strip for action, he had shivering with fear.

I finally decided that a gentle approach was needed to persuade him that the end of the world as he knew it was not nigh and so I approached him, took him gently into my arms. I felt him trembling at my touch, before kissing him fully on the lips, an act which as I have told you earlier I personally consider more intimate than any form of the sex act.  I was relieved that he did not pull away from me in disgust at being kissed by a man, whom he had only just met, and was more than surprised when he emphatically returned my kiss and then immediately broke down sobbing in my arms; there was obviously emotional life in him yet!

Then it all came pouring out. Rob had realised in his early teenage years, exactly as I also had done, that he had eyes only for other men and that he was not like most other guys, interested in girls. Like me he had been the only guy in his class who was a latent homosexual and had been treated by his classmates as an outcast; an object of ridicule because he did not like girls. Unfortunately for him he had not had someone like Paco Obregon to take him in hand and show him the light for guys like him he and had been left to fend for himself sexually.

After he had left school he had then started work in his father’s realty business, of which he was now the sole owner, his father and mother both having died a year ago in a car crash. Nadolna Realty was the biggest firm of house agents in Chicago and in addition to selling properties was also a property developer. Rob had had several tentative attempts at sex with other men; but each time when push had come to shove and action was called for, he had chickened out, just as he was now was trying to do.

Tearfully in my arms, he told me his whole sad story and when the crux finally came and he managed to bring himself to tell me, in a tidal wave of tears and embarrassment, that aged 24, as he now was, and a multi-millionaire running a successful business, he was still a virgin: “Liam,” he sobbed, “I have been so many times, in the same place  as you see me now, with a partner  ready to fuck or to allow myself to be fucked (he articulated that very word he had not managed to use during our phone conversation, which I saw as an encouraging signpost on the road to normality) and each time I have not been able to bring myself to perform the act. I have, times without number, left my potential partner in the lurch and myself utterly frustrated and miserable in the knowledge that I could never seem to bring myself to consummate the act.”

“I seem to be a lost soul, who has some inbuilt resistance to sex which stops me from acting each time that I have the opportunity. I desperately want to be rid of my virginity and to have sex; but each and every time I try, something in me makes me stop before I actually do anything. I am not only a total disappointment to myself, but I have led countless others on, only to abandon them at the last moment and leave them totally frustrated by my inability to go on.”

“Word has got around in the gay community, as it always does, that I am a time-waster, nothing more than a prick teaser; you know, like a woman who tries to make a man sexually excited but does not have any intention of having sex with him. As a result, for which I personally bear the whole responsibility, I have become a sexual outcast: a pariah among numerous men, whom I have led on to nowhere.”

Holding him sobbing in my arms, I saw how difficult it must have been for the super-attractive hunk of a guy that he was, to tell me that at the age of 24 he was still a virgin. Moreover, in addition to bemoaning his present state, he had brain-washed himself into the delusion that he was beyond salvation from his predicament. In his own very words, he saw himself as a lost soul. But I was made of sterner stuff and had no intention of allowing him to escape with his virginity still intact. So, standing in front of him with my own somewhat intimidating 10 inch boner pointing directly at him like a cannon ready to give him a broad-side, I now purposely adopted a rather unforgiving tone and began by tearing a strip  off the hapless Rob.

“Rob, for goodness sakes stop wallowing in what you see as your defeat and show some backbone. Your situation is not at all hopeless as you evidently see it. This meeting today is not like any of your unconsummated attempts in the past to lose your virginity.” How I dared, aged but 18, to address him, aged 24, and a client paying me royally for my services to boot,  in such a masterful way as I now did, I do not know; but the fact of the matter is that I did. I admit I stretched the truth a bit, as I continued in my purposely swaggeringly intimidating way. “You, Robert Nadolna, have entered into a verbal business contract, with me, Liam Doyle, a professional male-escort, which has now been confirmed by your offering and my accepting the sum of $500, for which sum I engaged myself to render to you certain specified sexual services, which I still have every intention of doing.”.

“Now as a businessman yourself, you must know that offer and acceptance are the essence of contract, which imposes certain obligations on each party. I find myself unable to allow you to depart from this meeting specifically arranged by you for me to deliver the service which we discussed over the phone in detail and which I promised to deliver to you. I intend, therefore, to hold you to your side of the bargain, in which, as you will recollect, I agreed quite specifically to….”

Here Rob interrupted me: “Alright, alright! As a realtor, I know all about binding contracts and I know the services we agreed on the phone; so there is no need for you to spell them out again right now. I know I made a deal with you: but in the light of what I have just told you, I wonder if…..”

It was now my turn to interrupt him and say: “Stop right there, Rob; I can see you coming, verbally on your knees, asking to be released from your part of the bargain. I would draw your attention to the fact that it was you who contacted me and asked me to render the services on which we verbally agreed. However, you have already told me that I can keep the $500 fee for my services in compensation for your backing out of the deal, which is totally inacceptable to me as a professional escort. I am afraid that this time you just have to accept that you are with someone, who is going to hold you to the contract and is not going to allow you to chicken out of the consequences of what you have agreed to.”

“Let me spell out to you the stark reality of the situation in which you now find yourself. There is no way that I am going to allow you to leave this apartment with… No, on seconds thoughts let me rephrase that: there is no way that I am going to allow you to leave this very room, with your virginity intact. This time, Rob, you have painted yourself into a corner and there is no way I am going to allow you to escape the consequences of your verbal sexual dalliances on the feeble excuse of – and I quote your very words here –  I am not at all sure that I can go through with it”.

Then, seeing from his expression, that he had more or less capitulated, I softened my tone considerably and said: “Rob, just relax, it is not the end of the world you are facing, but the opening up of what should be  a new and vibrant phase in your life, free of your sexual hang-ups an your self-induced, and self-perpetuating neuroses. Believe me, you will be a different man by the time you leave here this evening. And you know what, Rob?  You are going to enjoy every moment of your entry into the real world in which you belong and thank me for holding you to our bargain.”

Rob responded, with despondent resignation in his voice: “Alright, alright, you win! So where do we now go from here?”

As Rob had finally capitulated graciously, it now behoved me to be magnanimous in my victory. Now I have already said that I had taken a liking to him; he was of the type, whom I would have picked up at the drop of a hat for a one night stand, without the $500. I don’t know if Rob realised it himself, but he was a sexually very attractive guy to any active gay who saw him. Looking at him standing there, still fully clothed, I found in spite of our argument, I had not wavered one iota in my personal desire to fuck him.  Moreover, in the light of his revelations about the difficulties he had with sex, I decided that I would be very gentle with him in introducing him to what should be the many facetted pleasures of anal sex. I was also conscious of the honour, not to mention the responsibility I had taken on, that I, an 18 year-old guy, who had just left school, would be robbing a timid, 24 year-old man of his anal virginity.

I shivered internally at my audacity in stretching the truth in presenting myself to both Ray and Doug, and now to Rob, as an experienced male-escort, when I had, until a few weeks ago, been just a free-lance stud, still at school, who, in the past two years had had sex with more guys then I could recollect. But thinking strictly of myself, the first thing I wanted to do was to get Rob out of his clothes so that I could feast my eyes on the muscular hunk, which I divined was hidden beneath them.  Totally naked as I was with my cock stoutly erect, I approached, embraced and kissed him again on the mouth. As he felt my boner align itself between our two bodies, I felt his body tense itself just at the touch of my cock through his clothes.

 I whispered into his ear. “Come on, Rob, just relax; there is nothing at all to be afraid of. Let me help you get your clothes off and then I can take you to a paradise you never even dreamed existed. By now it was evident to me that Rob had a complete mental blockage when it came to any act even remotely associated with sex; even for him to strip to prepare himself for sex was difficult.”

I had no intention of allowing his inability to shed his clothes to become the force majeure by which he could break our contract and so I decided to help him. Accordingly, I approached him again, unbuckled his belt pulled down the zip of his trousers. Then, as one does with a reluctant child being told to get ready for bed, I took him one by one through the steps and made him remove his clothes, piece by piece. It was hard work, I can tell you; but the results were worth the effort, as what was revealed was the most superb young man imaginable; the guy who stood naked before me was the quintessence of drop dead gorgeousness.

CHAPTER 27.

As I stood looking at the super-sexy young muscular stud in front of me, with a penis to die for, I found it hard to believe – in fact, totally incomprehensible – that I was looking at a 24 year-old virgin. With a body, which was obviously the product of hours of gym work, where Rob must certainly have met like-minded and similar young men to himself, and where sex would have obviously been rampant, as it usually is in such places, it was a totally impenetrable mystery to me  why he had managed not to indulge in one of the most – if not the most – essential, pleasing and enduring physical activities of pastimes given specifically to members of the male sex: sexual intercourse, either hetero or homo-sexual.

Here I was, confronted with one of the sexually most alluring studs that I had ever met, whom I was about relieve of his virginity. I admit that now the moment had arrived to make good on my somewhat exaggerated claim that I was an experienced male-escort; the thought of introducing such a magnificent incarnation of male manhood to anal sex was somewhat daunting. But I had waxed long and loud about fulfilling our contract, so I had now had no option but to put my money where my mouth was.

Looking at a still extremely nervous Rob, I reassured myself that even though he was still a virgin, having sex with him, when it came to performing the act itself, would be no different to that which I had regularly indulged in, with many different partners over the past two years and which had become my stock in trade.  As a man, he did not have the physical obstacle of a hymen; indeed not! But he did have a serious mental problem, which might prove trickier to handle than a physical membrane resisting the invasion of a foreign body.  I was theorising here, you understand, never having previously had what, I presumed, would be the pleasure of relieving a member of either sex of their virginity.

The most difficult part of the task facing me ahead was to condition Rob into a state where the fatidic moment for him, when his anus was penetrated by my penis, thereby relieving him forever of his passive virginity, was the natural culmination of a sequence of acts, which I suppose must be considered as foreplay.  I was confronted with the age old problem that you can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink if he is not thirsty. My challenge was to get Rob into such an aroused state that he was so thirsty for sex that he was begging me to fuck him.

Now, expert cocksman that I am – or at least what many of my partners have told me that I am – I cannot lay claim to seduction as one of my talents. I have never had need of it in the past as my hitherto partners had always been more than willing and had often needed holding back rather than stimulating. But I saw that Rob was still shivering rigidly, with his cock still showing no signs of life even with the visual encouragement of my own massive boner. To use a legal analogy, he would be a hostile witness.

Never one to allow grass to grow under my feet when sex was in the offing, I again approach Rob, this time with both of us stark naked. Pressing my body against his, allowing him to feel my 10 inch erection sandwiched between the two of us. I gently embraced him and gave him a long, firm kiss directly on his lips as a start to my attempt to seduce this physically gorgeous stud, who in my arms was still as responsive as a block of ice.  I desperately wanted him to relax and to enjoy his first sexual experience. The last thing I wanted to do was to take him against his will by force, and put him off sex forever.

Was I deluding myself when I thought, as he returned my kiss that he was beginning to thaw? I was not sure; but I pressed on regardless, now transferring my attention from his lips to his nipples, those sexually sensitive spots embellishing his magnificent pectoral muscles. His nipples were completely soft under my tongue as I first took them one by one into my mouth. But by dint of persistent tongue work, alternating between left and right, I was rewarded with the first sign of success as both nipples became hard and erect; the first sign arousal.

This breakthrough, as I thought of it, was accompanied by the first faint stirring of his cock, which was still soft and resting between my legs, my own cock being sandwiched vertically between us in our close embrace. I now abandoned his nipples and gently descended, kissing his body, towards with my next objective, his cock. Now Rob was particularly well endowed, having a huge penis, which had, in spades, that all important quality which I have earlier called presence.

His impressive piece of man-meat which, even though I hate to admit it, rivalled, and possibly exceeded my own generous endowment, descended in a curve, gracefully over his balls. I had by now dropped to my knees in front of him and his cock, which thanks to my oral efforts at seduction on his upper body had now begun to show real signs of life and shake off its torpor. It was now crying out for immediate oral intensive therapy to assist it in taking its rightful place in the world of gay-sex.

Without any hesitation I took Rob’s perfectly circumcised cockhead into my mouth and started sucking it, giving him his first taste of oral sex, as we had agreed on the phone.  His cock rapidly repaid my efforts as within one minute it was fully erect, ready to go, and demanding immediate action. You will understand that by this time, with my foreplay preparing Rob for the ultimate act, that I too was becoming aroused. But then, when did I not?  I was not immune to the arousing effects of what I was doing to my hitherto totally passive partner in the hope of arousing him sexually. As I continued working orally on his body, I found myself practically devouring his cock, which I had succeeded in bringing to full erection, purely for my own pleasure.

In working on Rob to awaken his libido, I had arrived at such a state of arousal myself, that, if he had now refused to let consummate our union,  I am not at all sure that I would have been able to stop myself from taking him by force. I just wanted to fuck him so badly, that wild horses would not have stopped me doing so, had the unexpected not happened. Reflecting for on my feelings at that moment I suddenly recognised that I was allowing myself to become emotionally involved with Rob, a paying client, which even I, as the debutant male-escort that I was, saw was a definite no-no. To paraphrase the well-known aphorism of Rudyard Kipling:  business is business and personal is personal and never the twain shall meet. I was, however, pulled back from the brink of raping Rob by what seemed like divine intervention: a god-given miracle; if you believe in that sort of thing! Anyway, whatever it was and whence it came, it saved me from my worst self.

As I was working on Rob’s cock with my mouth, he suddenly unexpectedly climaxed, with no warning at all. Not only had I worked his cock into a full erection with my tongue and lips, but, totally unaware of the fact myself, I taken him all the way through to, what he later told me was his first ever orgasm induced by a partner as distinct as by his own hand. And what an orgasm it was. It happened with his cock deep in my mouth, when, without any indication whatsoever, he suddenly thrust himself forward, making me almost swallow his cock.

He suddenly explosively ejaculated an unbelievably large quantity of his sperm into my mouth, and throat, and as he withdrew he spurted great gobbets all over my face, almost drowning me in the river of copious man-juice he emitted. I think that he was a surprised as I was by his sudden climax and emission, which, induced by my efforts, had suddenly come upon him and which he had not been able to control. At that moment Rob’s cock had suddenly ejaculated that fountain of life; a man’s sperm, which, as in in male-male sex relations, fell upon non-fertile ground.

It was, in its own way, as dramatic an event for both of us, as the equally unexpected eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD, which buried the town of Pompei near Naples under layers of ash. In this case I was surrogate Bay of Naples and my mouth stood in for Pompei. The difference was that I was almost drowned in an excessively large volume of warm cum, unlike the luckless inhabitants of Pompei, who were suffocated under mountains of volcanic ash. This was by no means the first time that I had orally worked on another man’s cock before getting down to to nitty-gritty of the anal sex act itself. However, although I prided myself on my ability to take my partner unaided by him, through to orgasm by the sex act itself, I had never, until then brought my partner to his climax, as had now happened, just by the act of fellatio itself.

Whatever the cause of this unexpected eruption, seeing, as the saying goes, is believing; and what happened next was equally as astonishing, In what was the nearest thing to a damascene conversion, Rob now took the imitative, reached down, took me by my hands and pulled me to my feet, before immediately literally falling all over me and smothering my face and neck passionately with kisses. His body, pressed firmly against mine, had completely lost that stiff, glacial quality, which it had retained until just a few minutes ago, before he had had his orgasm.  I felt a hand descend to fondle my cock and balls, the surest indication to me that he was not only ready, but also was willing to take the next step.

I decided that the now-or-never moment had arrived and that I must retake the high ground, which I had momentarily lost to him by allowing him to pull me to my feet. Never someone to let grass grow under my feet, when all systems are flashing go, I shuffled us, in our tight embrace, towards the bed, where I forced him to lie down on his back with me on top of him.

We lay there for a few minutes, each of us fondling the other’s body – making love, in fact – until looking me directly in the face, he said: “Liam, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for what you have done for me so far. You have already, by your actions, liberated me from my innermost fears, which for years have prevented me from leading any kind of sex life whatsoever. I cannot thank you enough for the way in which you have made me feel good about myself right now. Now, I guess that the moment of truth has arrived and cannot be put off by me any longer. So, Liam, go ahead and do what you have to do to finish the job you have started, which, thankfully, you very firmly did not allow me to to talk you out of.”

I was relieved that Rob had agreed to go on from where we had arrived at that moment He had given me his assent to fuck him and, in so doing, rid him of the millstone of his anal virginity for ever; it was a strict one time act, the consequence of which could never be repeated. I can tell you if he had not come quietly, I would have had the greatest difficulty in holding myself back from penetrating him as I just found Rob so sexually attractive that I had rarely been so aroused as I had been in preparing him for his first penetration. Had he not agreed to play ball, I would probably not been able to stop myself from taking him against his will.  Thankfully it had not come to that and everything in the garden was lovely. I heaved myself up from him, asked him to put his feet on the bed with his legs bent at the knees to give me access to his all important port of entry.

This was one of my favourite positions, which enabled me to hold my partner’s legs against my chest allowing me easy access to his anus. Rob, having lost all his initial resistance, willingly and eagerly complied with my instructions. I lubricated both his entry hole and my cock liberally, as I wanted his first encounter with my cock to be as agreeable as possible and prepared myself to make that inaugural thrust which would change him forever and in a few seconds make a different man of him.

In the event, Rob turned out to be a first class fuck. He had that automatic reflex, not given to all men, of gripping his partner’s penis and maintaining the pressure on it throughout the entire time until he reached his own climax, thereby increasing the pleasure not only for himself but for his partner as well. At that moment, he probably did not appreciate what an automatic, good bottom-partner he was. I entered him with no difficulty, as he was now as eager to be fucked as I was to fuck him. I began in my usual way, with long gentle strokes, to take him towards his first anal induced orgasm.

I was determined to give him the full enchilada for his first ever fuck and managed to hold myself back until I sensed he was ready to explode into his second, partner-induced orgasm, before withdrawing my cock completely and then with that one final thrust taking both of us to that state of nirvana, that nec plus ultra of sexual sensations: the simultaneous orgasm. Rob pumped and pumped his second emission within an hour, all over my chest and himself whilst I dumped my first load deep inside him.

It was a glorious moment for both of us, Rob had lost his anal virginity in an unbelievably intense orgasm, of which I am sure he did not then know the significance. I too had thoroughly enjoyed myself; all the more so, as with the best will in the world, the simultaneous orgasm of top and bottom partners is not the easiest objective to achieve. I had enjoyed the experience of robbing Rob of his anal virginity, which had been against all odds, due to his resistance just a brief time ago. 

But he had, of course, still another mountain to climb to fully graduate as a competent practitioner into the world of gay-sex. Less demanding, it is true, than taking another man’s penis up one’s ass for the first time, but nevertheless a somewhat daunting experience the first time. I am, of course, referring to the act, in which Rob fully loses that last vestige of his virginity, by fucking someone for the first time.

CHAPTER 28.

We had not hitherto discussed the fact that Rob needed to play the active role; to exercise himself and use his cock as a top and lose his virginity completely and enter fully into the world, in which his future sexually happiness lay. When he had approached me to help him, I had understood that it was essentially to overcome his fear of allowing another man to his hitherto, most private parts. But I suddenly saw that in relieving him of anal virginity, I had only done half the job. Rob now needed to exercise his own cock on another man, thereby saying a complete farewell to his status as a 24 year-old virgin.

In the euphoric afterglow and feeling of wellbeing which always accompany a successful coupling, lying there on the bed beside him, I raised the question with him of his going on to fuck me. To me it seemed to be an absolute necessity that Rob had to be fully broken in to the ways of the world of gay-sex, unless he was to remain a bottom for the rest to his life. Some guys do, of course, prefer the bottom role; for example, in relationships where one partner plays the role of husband and the other partner bottoms for him in the role of wife.

But in my view, to remain a dedicated bottom, seemed only like half a life, subservient to the actions of another man, without ever being able to act for oneself, other than to masturbate, an act which I personally considered distinctly second best when compare to deriving and sharing one’s sexual pleasure from with another man. I personally like both to fuck and to be fucked, which I consider to be the two principal sexual attributes essential to a full, active gay life. I wanted Rob, to whom as I said earlier, I had taken great liking, to experience both aspects of gay-sex. Then he could decide for himself what he wanted out of his sex life.

As Rob had been such a ditherer and had initially railed against what I had so far done for him, before acquiescing and finally enjoying his semi-entry into the world of gay-sex, I wondered if he had ever thought that he was only half-way there, as far as being a full-rounded gay was concerned.  In the euphoric joy of his first ever passive sex act with another man, I doubt that the thought had ever crossed his mind. As far as he was concerned, I was the leader, who called the shots and he was subserviently grateful to me for what I had done for him. I am sure that at that moment, it had never occurred to him that gay-sex was a two-way, give-and-take affair and that he too could fulfil the role of top to someone else acting as bottom: that he could himself fuck as well as be fucked.

After outlining to him where we were on his first sexual journey and endeavouring to impress on him the mutuality of the sex act, as I saw it, I said to him finally: “You will find, Rob, that when you are acting as a top, it is much easier for you to bring yourself to orgasm by fucking your partner, than for you to do the same for him. In what I did for you just now, I managed, by some miracle, to bring you to orgasm at the same time as myself, a feat which, believe me, is as rare as a hen’s teeth. So if you are feeling up to it (always a baiting, provocative remark) I am ready and willing to put myself at your disposal for the second part of your basic instruction.”

I immediately sensed that he was again on the defensive “You mean,” he said, “That you want me to have sex with you in the same way as you have had sex with me?” He was again his prickly, old self as he said: “But that goes far beyond our business agreement and what I have paid you for.”

Now that he was faced with making a decision, I saw that he again was on the edge of beginning to dither in his resolve to rid himself once and for all of his entire virginity. I sensed a coming resistance towards continuing with his initiation into the pleasures of the flesh. I feared that I was seeing the old, timid Rob reappearing before my very eyes now that he was faced with playing the active role himself.

“Rob, just forget the agreement we had and try to focus on what is now important. Do you or do you not want to have your first fuck as a top with me and thereby achieve the aim of totally ridding yourself of your residual virginity forever? If so, my ass is at your disposal. If you could just for a moment stop contemplating your naval and look down at your dick, you will see that it is telling you all you need to know. Rob, just look at yourself; your rock-hard cock is telling you that you are as ready for your maiden fuck as you will ever be. Please don’t disillusion it and yourself, by letting this moment escape you; just stop dithering around in indecision and do what your cock is telling you to do.”

“Rob, I am offering you my ass on plate; so for Pete’s sake just go ahead and fuck me. In so doing you will finally complete your first ever, gay-sexual experience by having indulged in the two sex acts which form the basis of all gay-sex. Moreover, you will also have shaken off forever, all the inhibiting shackles of your virginity which have been the bane of your life for too long. You will be a new and liberated gay man free to enjoy a happy sex life, which you have denied yourself until now.”

What he did not know, nor did I tell him, was that I personally, in my role of mentor, desperately wanted to experience his magnificent cock, which, as I had told him, was figuratively straining at the leash to be given its first ever freedom to fulfil what was it saw as its obvious destiny. I could barely wait to feel his magnificent piece of man-meat, which, I concede, was bigger than my own, slide inside me. I did not give a fig for the fact that we had not foreseen that I would bottom for him in our original agreement. I found myself just so physically attracted to him by his overt sexuality that I would, under different circumstances, have picked him up on first sight for a one night stand and had sex with him for free.

Lying there on the bed beside him, I adopted the same position in which I had just robbed him of his anal virginity and said: “Go ahead Rob; I am ready and waiting; all you have to do is to lube up my ass and your cock, just as I did to you and you are ready to go. Come on, Rob; strike now, whilst you have a chance; you will never have another such opportunity offered to you on a plate as you now have.”

I could not understand this sudden hesitancy to complete his initiation. He had got over the worst hump in allowing a foreign body, in the form of my cock – to penetrate and invade his most private parts. He had moreover been privileged on his maiden fuck to have been taken by me, through to his first orgasm ever, which is in itself a rare happening. And not only had his first orgasm been induced by my cock alone, itself no mean achievement, but it had also occurred simultaneously with my own climax: a miracle.

I doubt that he had appreciated that the orgasm he had experienced by climaxing at precisely the same moment as me, had intensified many times the unique feeling of pleasure, which always accompanies the ejaculation of a man’s sperm. I don’t think he realised just how unique his initiation into bottoming in the act of gay-sex had been, as the only orgasms he had hitherto experienced had been self induced, in private, by masturbation with his own one hand. He had never even experienced the passive additional pleasure of manually jerking himself off in the company of his friends.

But now that he had been given the opportunity to do the same for me and liberate his magnificent tool from its long, virginal abstinence, thereby allowing it to fulfil what is arguably its most important, but certainly its most pleasurable function in life, he was again hesitant to take the next step; an act, which as everyone, except apparently him, knows is the quintessential act of sex and which is more or less guaranteed to give great pleasure to the active performer.

But as the saying goes: there’s nowt so queer as folk. And so, after long pause whilst Rob was making up his mind, it was with an intense sense of relief for me when he began to lubricate my ass and his cock and prepare to penetrate me with his magnificently rigid, fuck-stick.  In a way I felt privileged to be providing the ass, in which such an impressive penis was about to have its maiden fuck, thereby liberating itself from its hitherto, self-enforced, virgin status forever and having a foretaste of what would be its future stamping ground.

I confess that when Rob finally lifted my legs and pushed the tip of his cockhead against my anus, I felt the same chill of fear run through me as when had first been shafted by Darren Joshua.  It brought home to me how self-delusional I had been in telling myself that Rob’s dick was almost as big as mine. In fact, it was a full 12 inches long when erect, making it as big as Darren’s and bigger than mine by a full two inches. But having cajoled Rob into a deal that I had brokered, I could hardly lose face by backing out now that he was about to penetrate me. I realised that I had finally to come to terms with the fact that some guys were indeed better endowed than I was, shattering my illusion that I would always have the biggest, the never equalled phallus on every occasion.

Succinctly put, given my ego, it was a difficult pill for me to swallow, that I was not to be king-cock in terms of size on all occasions. This was exactly one of those times, when I found myself quietly eating humble pie, as I took Rob’s full length inside me. I assuaged my dented ego by telling myself that size was not the only thing that mattered and when it came to skill I was up there with the best of them. To say that Rob had dithered about wanting to give his cock its first outing, thereby liberating it from its long captivity, when the point of no return was reached and his cock was thrusting against my anus, Rob proved surprisingly decisive.

Once he had overcome the initial automatic resistance of my anal muscle, he took a leaf out of my book as with one movement, without any hesitation, he slid the full length of his massive tool into me, I saw immediately that my fears of his length were unfounded; I felt nothing but pleasure in being penetrated; of having myself filled with the length and girth of such an exceptional piece of man-meat. As he bottomed his pelvis against my ass, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction that he had finally screwed his courage to the limit and allowed his penis to lose the virgin status in which it had been confined for much too long.

Chalk and cheese is the only way I can define Rob’s behaviour before and after penetration. Whereas in the preparations leading up to  D-Day – better put, P-Day – when he had finally penetrated me, he had, at the best, been diffident about continuing with his initiation into the joys of gay-sex. Now that he had taken the plunge and was inside me, a miraculous transformation in his behaviour took place. All his former hesitation had suddenly vanished. He first began with long gentle strokes – let’s face it he had the length – but then, as he became more and more aroused, he fucked me like an experienced veteran battering me with ever increasing speed and power until, no longer unable to hold himself back, he climaxed into a tsunami of sperm, all of which he deposited deep inside me. Rob had evidently been so aroused by his actions that he climaxed very quickly, leaving me still far from my own orgasm.

This was, in a way, a triumphant first time for both of us. As Rob withdrew himself from me and we again were lying side by side on the bed, I reflected on the joint success of what we had achieved together. Personally this was the first time– and as it turned out, over the years to come – the only time, I was ever to have fucked a virgin ass and then been fucked by a virgin cock. But for Rob also, it was a triumph; he had managed to screw his courage together and, under my tutelage, had succeeded in throwing off the chains of his virginity, which had been holding him back from leading any sex life at all.  All in all, I chalked up our first collaboration a great success: capable of improvement; but nevertheless a successful first step in the right direction.

After a few minutes we went together into the spacious shower to wash of the sticky traces of our travails. It was only when we were standing there under the running water that I noticed that Rob had a series of parallel marks running across his buttocks, which had clearly come from a cane or some such similar implement. Although they were not of very recent origin, they were, nevertheless, clearly visible. 

When I questioned him about them he sighed and said: “I knew you would see them sooner or later and want to know how I got them. Well, Liam, it’s a long story; but if you are free right now let me invite you to a meal, which I feel I owe you anyway for services, over and above the strict call of duty, as I think it would allow us to get to know each other better, without the desire for sex hanging over us and I will reveal to you the shamefully perverted side of my life, which is how I come to have the stripes across my ass.”

What a revelation that dinner, at an up-market restaurant a few minutes’ walk from the equally up market apartment where we had just had sex, turned out to be. I learned so much about Rob in particular, but also about the apartment which we had just left. He had by now miraculously turned from the somewhat, uncommunicative, taciturn guy I had met only a brief time ago, into a talkative young man, who obviously wanted unburden himself to someone.

Rob was the prince of hosts, ordering a bottle of wine, a drink, which I had only rarely tasted, but for which I saw I could rapidly develop a taste. He began by thanking me profusely for my patience and diligence in not allowing him to escape from our agreed deal, which as I far as I could see had had their desired effect and had, apparently, liberated him completely from his former sexual hang-ups.

“I cannot thank you enough, Liam, for not having allowed me to weasel my way out of a situation, which I alone had put myself in. Had I succeeded in convincing you to abandon the whole idea, I would have retreated into my former shell and would never have known that gay-sex could be so wonderfully satisfying. As I had never experienced it before tonight, how could I? You taking me in hand and holding me to our agreement was the single best thing which ever happened to me; and as you said I would, I already feel a different man, with a different outlook on life.”

“You asked about the stripes on my butt. Well, they are a result of a secret perversion of mine, which goes back to my youth, which unfortunately, as the saying has it, was not at all misspent; indeed quite the contrary. Had it been, then we might never have met, for I would probably not have been in need of the sort of therapy – yes, I qualify what you have just done for me as sex therapy of the highest order – to which you have just subjected me.”

I could see that he was becoming increasingly at ease with me. He ordered another bottle of wine, which we sat there drinking , in the booth our table occupied in the restaurant, long after our meal was over, I sensed that he wanted to unload himself on me; and I was not wrong as he began on the story of his life to date. I sat there completely enthralled by the amazing story he told me.

CHAPTER 29.

“Let me go back to the beginning – my own beginning, that is – and tell you that in spite of my Russo-Polish surname Nadolna, I am, in fact, ethnically half English. You see, my late father, upon whose untimely death I inherited, the Nadolna Realty business; lock, stock and barrel at the age of only 22, had married in England, at the very young age of 18, an English girl he had met and had succeeded, in the brief time they had known one another, in getting her pregnant. What happened was that when my father was 18 and had left school, he had with his father’s – my paternal grandfather’s and founder of the Nadolna empire – permission and, I might add, financial support, decided to take a gap year in Europe before going on to college. It was intended initially as a sort of a latter day version of the Grand Tour, undertaken by sons of the aristocracy in England in the 18th century.”

“For some reason, rather than flying, my father, then aged just 18, decided to cross the Atlantic for the first time from New York to Southampton, in the romantic luxury of one of the last surviving passenger liners plying regularly the route. On board, he met and fell deeply in love with a very upper-class young English girl, Deborah Price, also aged 18, who, with her parents, had been visiting family in the USA. His passion was reciprocated and by the time the time the boat docked Deborah, my mother to be, was already pregnant and I was well on the way.”

“To say the very least, my future maternal grandparents, both of whom are still alive and well and living in the north of England, in the city of York, in the house in which I was destined to be born, were not exactly overjoyed by their only daughter’s pregnancy. So, when a few weeks later, much to the annoyance of her parents, it became known that my father, the author of the then situation, was so smitten with Deborah, that far from leaving Deborah in the lurch he had hung around had taken a room in York, the shit hit the fan.”

“Their chagrin was compounded when they learned that the young man, who was responsible for their daughter’s fall from grace was an American named Nadolna. They mistook him, because of his name, for an undesirable Mediterranean type: a Dago: a derogative term used by the upper-class Brits to describe Hispanics and Italians in general: a young man, who, in their rigidly British, upper-class eyes, was quite beyond the pale and someone totally unsuitable for their daughter, their only child, to marry. Whether it would have made any difference to them to learn that my father’s roots were Slavonic. I doubt it; to them all foreigners were – and, for that matter, still are – by definition, highly undesirable and best kept at arm’s distance.”

“But what was done was done and could not be undone.  Sexual attraction is a powerful thing and against bitter opposition from her parents, when Deborah’s pregnancy became apparent, as both my future parents were aged 18 and evidently hopelessly in love, they married in a non-religious ceremony in a Registry Office in York. Some nine months later, with only midwife in attendance, I was born in my grandparent’s house.”

“In the meantime, on learning that my father, their son-in-law, was the only son and heir to the fortune of the multi-millionaire owner of Chicago’s premier real estate business, he suddenly became slightly more palatable to his unsympathetic in-laws. However, then as now, money lubricates; so the fact that their daughter had married a man who was heir to an American fortune, even if it did not work wonders, it did make slightly –just slightly  more acceptable to his in-laws. What else could they do about it? It was a done deal; their only child had married an uncouth American, whom she loved, so they could either like it or lump it.”

“Thus, although not actually being welcomed with open arms into the Price family, he became, sort of, accepted. What else could the Price’s dot? Their only child, Deborah had married a mid-western American, whose every spoken word offended their refined aristocratic ears. My parents lived, as a married couple, in a cottage in the grounds of the Price family estate; but my birth took place in the main house, which I will one day inherit.”

“How my father, aged only 18, managed to keep his marriage and child secret from his parents in Chicago, I do not know. But the fact of the matter is that he did. My American grandparents first learned the truth about their only son’s putative tour of Europe, of which he had in reality seen only England, when he arrived back in Chicago and presented them with the fait accompli of a wife and grandson. Of course grandmother Nadolna was, in the way all grandmothers always are, enchanted by the fact that her son, had produced a grandson for her. I was doted on by both grandma and grandpa Nadolna, as I came to call them. They are both still alive and well, by the way; they are the closest family I have in the USA, as my late father, like me, was an only child.”

“My father’s amorous exploits, led to him abandoning any idea of a college education and he went straight to work in the Nadolna realty business of which he had become CEO by the time of his untimely death in a car crash, which killed both him and my mother, leaving me, aged just 22 at the time, as the sole owner and CEO of the business.  It was my father and Ray’s father, old man Winters, the CEO of Winters Investments, not Ray and I, who jointly built the building in which we just had sex. My father and Ray’s father, who is still alive, were guys who liked to play the field; so they kept the apartment where we have just had sex together, as a place where they could take their extramarital lady friends.”

“It is Ray and I, their sons, who have both, by chance, turned out to be gay, who theoretically use the place today. I should tell you that Ray and I hardly know one another, as we move in different social circles. He makes no secret about being an active gay; whereas I, until earlier today, have been hiding my light, if you can even call it a light, under a bushel; However, Liam, thanks to your help, it will shine much more brightly in the future.”

“Having been born in England to an English mother, my birth was registered there and I was born British; but my father also registered my birth at the American Embassy in London and so I have dual nationality: British and American. My early years I spent in Chicago, where as a rich kid, I was sent to a private kindergarten and later to a private primary school. However, when I reached the age of eight, my mother who was living in Chicago, spurred on doubtlessly by her snobbish parents, Grandma and Grandpa Price, was adamant that her only child be given the education of a young English gentleman.”

“Without asking me what I thought about it, not that the wishes of an eight-year-old would have carried much weight, before I knew what was happening I had been wrenched from my hitherto happy life with my friends and school in Chicago and whisked off to England to stay with my English grandparents in York, who together organised, and I think, also paid for my schooling in England.”

“I don’t know what you know about the so-called English public school system, which is anything but public, consisting as it does of fee-paying schools, to which the old money upper classes, from Royalty on downwards and aspiring, upwardly mobile, middle classes and the nouveau riche, who have earned their wealth through the unspeakable act of trade, together perpetuate the class system – us and them. It is the bane of English life; less so now than in the past, but it is still, nevertheless, alive and well. You can see how belonging to the upper crust, as they most certainly do, my English grandparents found my father difficult to accept as a son-in-law, even though he was happily married to their only daughter and she to him, in spite of the fact that together they had given them their only grandson: me!”

“Anyway, now that they had got their their hands on me for the formative years of my education from eight to eighteen, they were clearly intent of expunging all traces of the fact that I was basically a Chicagoan and turning me into their idea of a perfect English gentleman. So from age eight through eighteen, I was put through the brutal mill of an English public school education, with all that that entails. In term times – there are three terms in the school year in England, which runs from September through to the end of July the following year – from age eight through 18.”

“I was a boarder at a preparatory, school called Little Churton Preparatory School for Boys located in a village called Lower Churton near the city of Hereford in the west of England on the Welsh border. Then from age 13 through 18+ – I was almost 19 when I left – I was a boarder at the sister public school, called Churton College for Boys, located only a few miles away, in the village of Great Churton. I spent the Christmas and Easter vacations with my grandparents in York, but then each year flew back to Chicago for the long vacation in July and August.”

“I cannot begin to describe to you the brutality of the English public school system, at least as practised in the two Churton establishments.  You may be aware of the fact that English public schools are segregated and that both schools were strictly for boys only. As far as I could see could see the main purpose of life at the preparatory school, was to prepare its young pupils for the onslaught on their bare asses with the cane and the birch, which was a regular feature of life at Churton College. In both places, bare bottom beatings, from which no one was safe, were the order of the day. At Little Churton prep school, the expression was that one’s bare bum was swished. In contrast at Churton College one had one’s ass birched, or beaten on the bare. Whatever the punishment, in both schools, it was a regular part of life, always applied to the poor sod’s bare buttocks; and I can tell you it was excruciatingly painful.” 

 “Over the years, I had my bare ass thrashed times without number at at both schools, so much so, that I eventually became quite fond of being beaten with a cane, which explains the stripes you noticed on my ass. Anyway, when I came back permanently to the USA, I was enrolled at Harvard Connecticut, where I eventually graduated a degree in Business Studies which seemed the best sort of qualification for someone who was destined eventually to run the largest real estate company in Chicago, Nadolna Realtors. At Harvard I was, like my father before me, a member of the fraternity Alpha-Omega-Upsilon, which initiated all new members in a bare ass paddling ceremony in front of the entire fraternity.”

“I soon found that I was not alone in my desire to have my ass beaten regularly, for there were several of my fraternity brothers who were of similar persuasion.  And so it was that I joined a flagellation group of like-minded guys, who got together on a weekly basis and paddled each other’s asses.  Of course, paddling was frequently a prelude to sex – the two go hand-in-hand – but I was just too timid to get involved, which explains why I remained a 24 year-old virgin until earlier this evening, when, thankfully, you finally made me face up to the reality of the corner into which I had painted myself.”

“I suspect from your own school days that you are familiar with the paddle. However, let me tell you as someone who has experienced both the paddle and the cane, that a rattan cane well applied to bare buttocks is infinitely more painful than any paddling. When it comes to delivering pain to boys’ asses, the Brits, with their public schools, are light years ahead of us.”

“In the event, I came into my American inheritance much sooner than I ever anticipated, when, two years ago, both my parents were killed in a car crash. As my grandfather Nadolna had, some years previously, made over the company to my father and as I was the sole beneficiary of both my father’s and my mother’s wills – my mother was very rich in her own right via an inheritance from her English grandmother – I found myself overnight a multi-millionaire and was catapulted into the top spot of the Nadolna company as sole owner and CEO, a position I have held for the past two years.”

“Luckily I also inherited not only the business, but with it also two men who knew what they were doing: one on the Nadolna Realty side, the other in charge of Nadolna Developers. I am happy to say that, with their help, under my direction, the Company has gone from strength to strength over the past three years.”

“I see that although I have long-windedly told you of my passion to have my bare ass caned from time to time, I have still not told you how I go about achieving my desire. Well, via the Internet, I found an Englishman, an ex-public school boy, who works in the British consulate in Chicago. For a fee, of course, I make regular visits in his apartment – he is a bachelor – where he gives my bare backside a sound thrashing with a rattan cane. He is, to all intents an upper class, British public school master manqué. I think it gives him as much pleasure to beat me as it does for me to be beaten.”

“He has hinted that we could go much further than him just beating me – explore other avenues, as he has delicately put it several times. But to date I have never dared to accept his obviously sexual overtures. So there, my friend, which is how I already think of you, Liam, after such a short acquaintance, you have a thumbnail sketch of my life since the age of eight. Frankly Liam, you are just the best thing that has happened to me in years, I am delighted to have met you and to have benefitted from your guidance in helping me to find my true self, for which I will be ever grateful.”

I confess I felt quite flattered that such a hitherto diffident, shy guy with all of his stunning physical attributes, had felt the need to unburden himself at length to someone he had just met professionally, in response to a simple question  regarding the origin of what were obviously cane stripes on his ass. However, I had quite warmed to Robert Nadolna, whom, as I said earlier, I had liked on first sight, and so I was ready to reciprocate his apparent need for friendship; the more I saw of him, the more I liked him.  As a result of his long-standing sexual hang-ups, I saw that he was a rather friendless person: someone, who outside his professional life, which was obviously very successful, was like a rudderless ship not going in any particular direction. 

As we had become very relaxed with one another, I thought now was as good a time as any to ask him about the availability of apartments at reasonable rents. I told him that I needed somewhere to take my clients where in complete privacy we could do what I called our thing. “It does not need to be big, Rob, but it does have to be in a top-quality block in a good neighbourhood, like the place you own in which we conducted our business just now. I am sure you understand that I cannot take the sort of clients I deal with to a scruffy, down-at-heel place in a dubious neighbourhood, in spite of the fact that the type of business, in which I am involved, so often associated with twilight zones.”

His reaction was positive but as Kyle had predicted, when Rob said that he was sure that something could be arranged. I decided to be quite clear: “Rob, I don’t want something to be arranged. I simply want to rent a place, where I can come and go as I wish, with no strings attached. I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure, so what I am looking for is a small place to rent in a quality apartment block, where business clients, like you, will feel at their ease.”

“I understand you perfectly Liam; just leave it with me, and I will look in the office at what is available at a reasonable rent and let you know.  However, you say you don’t wish to mix business with pleasure; so how do you see our personal relationship right now? I offered you dinner to thank you for what you just did for me, liberating me from my long-term hang-ups with sex and making me face my future as a gay man, which is basically what I now accept I am. So, if I might ask you, right now, drinking and chewing the fat together as we are, is this business or pleasure?”

Rob then took the upper ground: “I will be frank with you, Liam, since the moment we entered this restaurant, sat down at this table and broke bread together, for me at least, and I hope also for you, it has been a pleasure. Correct me, if you think I am wrong, but I think that with me, you have already strayed from your dictum that business and pleasure should be be kept separate as you have allowed business to become  a pleasure with me. So other than me looking to see what apartments we have for rent, is this the end of the line for us? Where do we go from here?”

Reading between lines of what he had just said, I saw that Rob, whom by now I like tremendously, did not want to let go of what we had achieved together.  I saw that he was desperately in need of a friend, who understood where he was coming from and would meet his obviously burgeoning need for sex. I admit I felt somewhat snookered by my own actions. In sitting there, drinking with him and listening to his life story, I saw, as he had said, that I had been guilty of the very thing which I said to him I never did: I had mixed business with pleasure to such an extent that an inescapable feeling of friendship had already developed between us, aided, no doubt, by my empathy for his feelings.  I had, to quote William Shakespeare, been hoisted by my own petard.   Like it or not, I had allowed a business relationship to turn into a friendship, which we both clearly felt for each other.

It was obvious to me that through my own actions, the supplier-customer, business relationship between Rob and me was a dead duck. We had already become much too intimate, and I do not mean just sexually. I could not just let Rob drop, now that I had allowed a friendship to develop between us. In fact, I did not want to leave him to his own devices, as I was so attracted to him and already saw him as a new sex partner for Kyle and myself. Both Kyle and I liked to play the field; here was a magnificently attractive and likeable, young stud, with an absolute killer of a cock, who, even though he was a few years older than Kyle and me, was completely inexperienced in the real world of gay-sex and would benefit greatly from being taken in hand by two experienced guys like us. 

Altruistically, I reasoned, it was in Kyle and my best interests to take Rob in hand. Realistically, looking at the advantages to us, Rob was an awesomely good fuck already and had an enormous penis, which with a little more experience would become a peerlessly efficient anus stretcher.  So, what was not to like about nurturing him it? It seemed to me like a win-win situation for all three of us: Kyle and me, in the role of mentors and Rob as our eager protégée.

Fantasising to myself as I contemplated what to do, I saw Rob as the beast, in the fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast, whom Kyle and I could  save from his self inflicted confinement and transform into a gay Prince Charming. The idea was not completely altruistic, for we would have great deal of personal pleasure in whipping – with our cocks, of course – Rob into shape and instructing him the ways of the real world of gay-sex. I was sure that once he came to terms with the fact that the gay-life-style was his passport to self fulfilment, he would truly happy to have found his place in life. As a super-sexy looking hunk of muscular, young, male, homosexual manhood, it was the only world in which he would ultimately feel comfortable.

CHAPTER 30.

I rang Kyle on my cell-phone to alert him that I would shortly be arriving with a new friend, who desperately needed immediate practical training in the finer points of gay-sex. Kyle was immediately agog and could barely wait to meet my latest find.  He might have been less enthusiastic, had I told him, which seemed unnecessary at that moment, that the guy he would shortly be meeting, was my erstwhile latest client, Robert Nadolna, which cut across his advice to me: business was business and pleasure was pleasure and should  not be mixed.

I had left Rob in suspense, waiting for a reply to his question: Where do we go from here? I thought I discerned in his face, a look of anticipative disappointment that the answer to his question was that he and I were going no further together; which as supplier and client was quite true. However, when I suggested that he might like to meet the guy with whom I shared an apartment, he perked up considerably. Although he was never to know it, I had never had any intention of throwing such an attractive, sexy guy as him to the wolves; I saw him as a superb, if inexperienced, new partner: a malleable addition to the coterie of young studs, with whom Kyle and I regularly had sex.

I had kind of known before Rob and I got to the apartment I shared with Kyle, that once he knew who my new friend was, I would get some verbal flak from him for having violated the golden rule – his golden rule – of not mixing business with pleasure. Sure enough, no sooner had we entered, than Kyle pulled me aside and vehemently berated me for my stupidity. Stung by the bitterness of his words, which constituted the first tiff – it was nothing more than that – we had ever had together, I replied that if he waited until he saw Rob stripped for action, which was the basic reason why he was there, he might understand how my resolve had crumbled. I added: “Remember Kyle, that business may be business, but I am also human and as such prone to human failings.”

After being cross with me, Kyle was his usually charming self with Rob, whom he welcomed like a long lost brother into, what for Rob must have seemed our very humble home. But we were not there to allow Rob to give us an appraisal of what our place might be worth on the open real estate market, but to instruct him in the key elements of group gay-sex. I could see that in spite of his anger at me for having brought Rob, a client, if now in name only, home, Kyle was nevertheless immediately attracted to him. Kyle and I had, many times previously indulged in three-way sex, as we both liked to play the field; having a third guy present always added spice to the occasions, which were always super-charged. I had no idea what Rob’s reaction would be to find that he was to be part of what cannot be described as other than a three-man-sex-orgy.

I am not at all sure what Rob had expected to happen, but he was quickly put into the picture by Kyle, who with no embarrassment at all, stripped off stark naked in front of us both, motioning to Rob and me to do the same. To my complete surprise, the formerly hesitant Rob immediately complied, stripping himself naked and allowing Kyle, a stranger, to see his considerable muscular and sexual assets for the first time. I saw that gobsmacked look of admiration, filled with sexual desire, appear on Kyle’s face as he took in Rob’s exquisitely muscled physique and massive erection, which already was jutting out rigidly at an angle of 45 degrees to his body, leaving no one in any doubt as to its immediate mission.

Not even by the most uncharitable of observers could Kyle or I ever have been accused of being under endowed when it came to man-meat. But Rob, in all his physical glory – yes that is the exact way to describe his appearance – with his perfectly balance pectoral muscles and his anus-slaying 12 inch, straight-as-a-die, fuck-stick ready for immediate battle – was truly something to behold.  I was amazed, but agreeably surprised, that, in a guy as reticent as Rob had hitherto been, his penis, that most important, but uncontrollable piece of a man’s sexual anatomy, was announcing, by its aggressive rigidity, its readiness for immediate action.

I thought that perhaps Kyle, obviously impressed by seeing Rob naked for the first time, would now understand how I had thrown caution to the wind and allowed a personal friendship to develop between us. Whether he did or not, what was certain was that both he and I were practically salivating at the prospect of an evening of sex with the super-luscious Rob, who was like a piece of ripe fruit just waiting to be plucked and devoured. Judging from the alacrity with which Rob had shed his clothes and the present rampant state of his cock, he had lost all his earlier inhibitions about sex and was as eager to be taught all we had to offer, as we were equally eager to teach him. Rob was literally oozing sexual attraction from every pore of his body.

I felt able to speak for both Kyle and myself, as I could see that he was almost drooling at the mouth the thought of having sex with this most magnificent hunk. I was totally amazed at the transformation which Rob had undergone in such a short time; from a shy totally inhibited virgin of 24 to a gung-ho young stud, chomping on the bit and ready and eager for anything.

As it was obvious to all of us that we were in for the long haul evening of non-stop sex, Kyle produced an unopened carton containing two dozen Trojan Magnum condoms, which he ceremoniously placed on on the table, together with a tube of anal lubricant. He turned to Rob and said: “Rob, I hate to introduce a clinically practical note into what I hope will nevertheless prove an evening of spontaneously agreeable sex; but I would like to suggest that we all use condoms the whole time, in the interests of keeping this place liveable, after we have exhausted ourselves fucking each other.”

“It is a regrettable fact that delightful though it undoubtedly is, gay-sex itself is also inherently a very messy business with sperm flying every which way; but that, I am afraid, is a cross we have to bear to indulge in our pleasure. So I suggest we each roll a rubber onto our impatient dicks, lube up our asses and get this show on the road.”

Of course, things are not quite as regimented or ordered as Kyle had implied.  No one in his right mind would suck-off his partner’s cock other than bare. The same goes for face fucking; the cock the top thrusts into his partner’s mouth is always bare. When the top finally climaxes in an act of fellatio, he shoots his load into his partner’s throat and over his face, where it can be easily wiped off. But, of course in anal intercourse, where the ultimate aim for every top, not always achieved, should be to take his bottom partner through to his climax, the bottom’s naked cock is often left to fend for itself, unattended by his partner. On climaxing, his uncontrolled and equally uncontrollable jism just goes every which way.

So in an evening of uninhibited, non-stop, condomless sex, agreeable though it is for participants, even with just two guys, going hammer and tongs at each other, if not precisely drowning in their own spunk, they are certainly aware of the unpleasantness of wallowing in their own sticky exudations. And if, as is often the case, exhausted by their efforts – sex takes a lot of effort and is often a hot and sticky business,  they fall asleep and wake up next morning to an unpleasant fishy- smelling reminder: the downside of their condomless, previous night’s pleasure! So Kyle was wise to suggest the use of rubbers for thief three-man orgy. After all, he and I had to live in the place afterwards.

To my great relief, Rob needed no urging to penetrate Kyle, who by bending across the table, spreading his legs and exposing his tight anal pucker offered himself as the first port of call for Rob’s naked cock. Rob first applied more lubricant to Kyle’s anus, before, with no preliminaries at all, thrusting his 12 inch, rock-hard, condom-clad cock smoothly into Kyle’s rectum. As I watched Rob’s Washington Monument of Priapic meat disappear inside Kyle, I marvelled at Rob’s newly found confidence and professionalism.

You will remember that only a few hours ago Rob had been a virgin and that even after I had personally taken his anal virginity from him, it had then been like pulling eye teeth to get him to initiate is own cock into the pleasures of anal intercourse, even though it had more than shown itself willing to fulfil what was one of its two key roles in life.

All this former hesitancy had now disappeared as Rob in his newly minted sex-life, slid his full length into what was only his second partner ever. I could not fail notice a look of what I can but describe as euphoric ecstasy spread across Kyle’s face, as he willingly submitted himself to Rob’s massive member. Once settled comfortably inside Kyle, Rob’s own anus was crying out for a partner. So, I was about to say that as my own cock was at a loose end, which would give quite the wrong impression, as it was, as ever, eager for action. Without any preliminary warning I then penetrated Rob, thus sandwiching him between Kyle’s ass, with which, not to make pun, he was deeply involved, and my cock.

If Rob was surprised, as he must have been, to find himself trapped as if in a vice, between Kyle and me, skewered as it were by his own cock deep inside Kyle and my cock deep inside of him, he did not show it. I leaned across Rob’s back and whispered into his ear: “To make it simple in act one, scene one of your first attempt at three-man sex, concentrate uniquely on yourself and your dick and not on Kyle and me. It’s up to you to set the pace at which you feel comfortable; I will follow your movements exactly as you fuck Kyle and I fuck you. We will both withdraw and thrust in unison. Now when you begin fucking Kyle, make haste slowly; aim to give him almost the full length of your cock at each stroke. Once you have found your rhythm, you will find that your sexual arousal will automatically intensify and make you gradually increase both the speed and force of your thrusts until you reach your climax.”

“Don’t worry about Kyle or me, Rob, in this, your first three-man fuck. I will be behind you and follow you exactly. Think of it as if you and I were pedalling an old-fashioned tandem bicycle together; you at the front and me at the back; you set the pace and I am forced to follow. Well it’s more or less the same here; you set the pace and I will follow your every movement and hopefully we will both climax together. But if we do not achieve that aim, don’t worry. Practice makes perfect; and you will have plenty of chance to practise before the night is over. Your immediate aim is to climax inside Kyle on your final thrust. Don’t worry about him or me; worrying about satisfying you partners will come later.”

I suppose I should have known from the confident and unhesitating way in which Rob had penetrated Kyle, that I was wasting my breath on giving him instructions. Here we were, the three of us linked sexually together by two cocks; Rob’s deep inside of Kyle’s rectum; and mine deep inside of Rob. As this was only the second time Rob had had sex with a man, I had decided in order to make things simple to withdraw and thrust myself from Robin exactly the way and at the same time as he would be doing with Kyle. Sophisticated moves, such as his withdrawing and my simultaneous thrusting, would come later.

In the event, it was, amazingly, Rob who took the initiative.  Once he and I had comfortably settle our meat fully inside our respective targets, Rob waited only a moment, before withdrawing his cock almost completely from Kyle. I followed suit and similarly withdrew my own cock virtually fully from Rob’s ass. Then, he suddenly thrust his entire exposed length of some 10 inches, in one powerful, continuous movement, back inside of Kyle. I, of course, simultaneously followed suit, otherwise my own rock-hard cannon would have been left high and dry.

Rob continued as he had begun. He set the rhythm and length of the strokes, which, as he became ever more aroused himself by what he was doing to Kyle, automatically increased both in speed and force until he was literally battering Kyle with almost the full length of his cock at every stroke. Frankly I was utterly amazed at the sheer confidence and panache with which the hitherto hesitant Rob was fucking Kyle, who was only his second partner ever. Anyone observing the scene, which the three of us were enacting, would have said that Rob was a man of superlative sexual competence and not at the absolute beginner he actually was. Kyle, the passive partner, was in seventh heaven, having himself rough-fucked by such a magnificent stud.

The frenzy with which Rob was fucking Kyle increased to fever pitch, at which stage it became obvious that he could not much longer hold himself back from his inevitable climax.  As if what he was doing to Kyle was an everyday occurrence, just before he climaxed, he completely withdrew his massive, condom-clad dick from Kyle’s anus and waited for a couple of seconds – an age for Kyle, who was by now teetering on the edge of his own climax – before thrusting with great force himself back inside Kyle. Then as Rob himself climaxed deep inside of Kyle, with a series of violent ejaculative bursts of his own sperm, a miracle happened; Rob had, by accident rather than by design, taken Kyle to orgasm simultaneous with his own, leaving me, servicing his rear end, to fend for myself.

How Rob had managed in only the second time he was fucking a man, to bring himself and his partner to that pinnacle of perfection; the absolute apogee of anal copulation: the simultaneous orgasm of both partners, God alone knows; but as the deity is never at all communicative, all three of us were left guessing. I doubt if Rob realised what a triumph he had achieved, as he and I had never discussed in depth the potential mutuality of the sex act between men. For myself, I confess that I felt completely sidelined; but I nevertheless continued pumping Rob’s ass with my cock until, about a minute later, I reached orgasm myself.

As initiator of the affair, I had contributed nothing to the satisfaction that either Rob or Kyle had reaped from our three man liaison. I consoled myself with the thought the Rob had obviously learned a great deal from what he had experienced with me just a few hours earlier. I likened what had happened with Rob to a dam which had been breached and from which the initial flow of water suddenly increased a thousand-fold as the dam wall collapsed. Yes, Henry Nadolna was a living example of the old adage that still waters run deep!

I imagine that Rob himself, in overcoming – and I do mean ALL – his inhibitions, he must have realised that he had found his métier in acting as a top in the world of gay-sex. Whether he saw the significance of what he had just accidently achieved in fucking Kyle, or whether he was even aware of the fact that he had taken Kyle through to orgasm at the same time as himself, is doubtful.

Observation of porn videos of gay-sex indicate that whilst it is relatively rare for even the top to achieve his own orgasm inside his partner whilst pumping him, it is as rare a hen’s teeth that a top manages to take his  bottom partner to orgasm at all, let alone at the same time as his own. The norm, as the majority of porn videos of anal sex graphically show, is for both partners to the act to disengage themselves entirely from each other and to rely on manual masturbation to bring themselves to orgasm, the act, thereby devaluing the mutuality of what they set about doing together.

Kyle, however, was clearly in seventh heaven with what had just happened. Far be it for me to pour cold water on what, for my two partners, had been been a uniquely enjoyable occasion. So the three of us went hammer and tongs for the rest of the evening, exhaustively exploring the many permutations and combinations, which quasi-simultaneous engagement (one cock is perforce, inevitably left out in the cold) of three anuses and three cocks offer their owners. By the time we had finished and fell asleep exhausted by our self-imposed travails, I can safely say we had each intimately experienced everything in the way of straight anal sex that the three of us could offer each other. It is truism to say that gay-sex – indeed all sex – is addictive. Each time, no matter how often repeated, it is an act which never fails to please.

During that evening, which, although none of us knew it at the time, was later to change all our lives, the three of us demonstrated how utterly subservient we were to gay-sex. We all, especially Rob, who, newly baptised into the faith, seemed to be making up for lost time in the past, could not get enough of each other;  so much so, to coin a phrase: we fucked until we dropped.  Then we all fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was next morning and Rob was lying between Kyle and me in our bed. Rob was no longer my client; he had become a friend.  Just how mutually reciprocal that attraction was to become, I was to find out in the coming weeks, as Rob became an ever more frequent visitor to our apartment and he and Kyle became increasingly incapable of keeping their hands off each other. I guess I divined right then that I would one day lose Kyle to Rob. Their mutual attraction was just so strong that they each obviously saw in the other, that right guy, for whom they had both unconsciously been looking, but until they met, had never found.  But that event, if it ever occurred, which, of course it inevitably did, was still in the future.

CHAPTER 31.

Two days later Rob rang me and suggested we meet that evening as he had something he wanted to discuss with me; and, oh, almost as an afterthought, he had found what he thought was a perfect apartment at a reasonable rent for my business purposes. Rob lived alone in a huge top floor, 3000 sq. ft .apartment in one of those condominiums directly facing Lake Michigan on North Lake Shore Drive. As befitted the owner of the biggest realtor business in the Chicago, his place, where he lived in solitary splendour, was quite something. Frankly, for myself, I preferred living down in the Loop in the small, seedy, one bedroom place I shared with Kyle, where we were as snug as a bug in a rug together, to staring out over the bleak expanse of Lake Michigan. 

But there are horses for courses and I suppose that someone in his prominent business position had to have a prestigious place. But rattling around alone in a 3000 sq ft starkly modern space, overlooking the dark waters of Lake Michigan in winter – or for that matter, even in summer – was not my idea of life at the top. Nor was it his; as I discovered that evening; he basically lived in one snug little room with comfortable furniture at the rear of the place, facing west, away from the lake, a kitchen and one small bedroom and bathroom. The rest of the place, although sumptuously furnished, was clearly totally unused except when he had guests.

We had just sat down at a table in the kitchen when a pizza delivery boy arrived with pizzas Rob had ordered for us. He first told me about the apartment he had found for me: “The place I have found for you, which I think is ideal for your type of business, happens to be on the first floor of the very same building as the apartment in which we had our first assignment. Back at the office, I discovered that there was a first floor efficiency apartment with open plan kitchen, which which I suppose you do not need for your business purposes.”

“It is one room only, plus the bathroom. For some reason it has never been let since the building was finished about five years ago. The place is quite large for an efficiency apartment. It is about 375 sq ft – 15 ft wide by 25ft long, with the kitchen out of the way at one end. There is a large bathroom of course, located behind the kitchen. The place has one big sliding window leading to a small, paved terrace which is quite private. Exceptionally, probably because it is located on the first floor it has an external roller shutter, electrically controlled. Frankly, Liam, I think that the place would suit you just fine. It is private and can be locked up securely with the shutter down when you are not there.”

Rob then produced a number of photos of the place he was proposing, which looked ideal for my purpose. Although my business was just getting going, I was as ever my optimistic self about the future. And why should I not have been? I had received nothing but praise from practically everyone with whom I had ever had sex, telling me I was the bee’s knees of a partner, giving me confidence in myself that I was capable of delivering the goods. So why should selling my evident capabilities be any different? Ray, Doug and, latterly, Rob had demonstrated that there was a demand at the top of the market, which is what I was aiming for. Anyway, as Kyle had said: I urgently needed a place to receive my clients.

Rob had already drawn up three year rental agreement and the rent he was proposing was moderate; as I already knew the building was prestigious enough for my purposes, in the spirit of nothing ventured, nothing gained, I signed the agreement with some trepidation. I admit that before the ink had dried on the agreement, I felt some butterflies  in my stomach as I did not have potential clients exactly clamouring for my services; until I did, paying the rent would eat into what little capital I had.

Rob then said: “The main reason I invited you over here tonight is that there is something over and above the apartment that I wanted to talk you about. You remember that I told you that I like having my ass whacked with a rattan cane and that I had found an Englishman who worked at British Consulate in Chicago, who, for a small fee, has been doing the necessary for me? Well only yesterday, I learned from him that he was leaving the Consulate in Chicago for a new post at the British Embassy in Washington DC, leaving me high and dry to fend for myself as far as disciplining my ass with the cane was concerned. As I told you, I need regular doses of the cane across my ass, in much the same way as a drug addict needs a fix. Having my ass beaten on the bare, English public school style, is my personal perversion; so much so, that it has become something to which I have become totally addicted and cannot live without. I need to find someone pronto, who will replace my present discipline tutor.”

“The principal reason I invited you over here tonight is to ask you if you would be willing, for an increased fee of course, to take over where his guy has left off. Bluntly put, will you beat my ass for me, not ever time, but sometimes, before we have sex together?  I should tell you that now I have been given the benefit of a short, sharp shock course in gay-sex, I see what I have been missing and want to continue with my newly found pleasure.”

“So in me, Liam, you have found a faithful client for your sexual services; but I will quite understand if you say that wielding the cane is not to your taste. It is not given to everyone to inflict pain on his fellow human beings, even when, as is the case with me, they are more than willing. Thus my question to you is very simple. In addition to ministering to my sexual needs, are you willing to take on the additional responsibility of giving my buttocks the punishment they crave?”

Listening to this eloquent exposition of his needs, I realised that I was listening to a product of an upper-class public school: someone who knew both how to choose and correctly enunciate his words. One thing was sure; his English grandparents had succeeded in ridding him of what was, to their ears, his barbaric mid-western accent. For me, listening to him speak was a real pleasure; but I could see how he might alienate many of his American contemporaries, for he just sounded so – to use an English expression – frightfully posh. I imagined many of the problems he had had with his sex life before he met first me, and then Kyle, could have been due to his manner of speaking, which to the average Chicagoan could be quite off-putting and inhibit any form of intimacy.

I said to him: “Rob, if you just think back a couple of days to the time you spent with Kyle and me around at our place, where we all finished spending the night together in one bed, you will realise that the business arrangement under which you and I first met just earlier that same day, is gone forever. So there is no question of you paying me extra to thrash your ass; or for that matter paying me for anything else I might do for you. That day was gone the moment I took you home with me and you entered our place and had consensual sex with Kyle and me. Rob you have become an intimate friend and are no longer a client.”

I could see a look of uncertainty, of the fear of being shelved, appear in Rob’s eyes, as he registered what I had just said. He spluttered: “You mean that what you and I did together and what we both subsequently did together with Kyle, was a one-time event?”

I hastened to assure him that that was not the case: “No, Rob, not at all; quite the contrary; I think I can speak for Kyle as well as for myself, when I say that we both enjoyed ourselves as much having sex with you as you did with us; well, at least I think you did. Let’s face it, Rob, you may be new to gay-sex, but you are already handling yourself like a real, experienced, died-in-the-wool gay.  Frankly, my friend, cards on the table and pardon my French, but crudely put, you, Robert Nadolna are already a fucking good fuck, both as top and bottom. So, the very last thing that Kyle and I wish to do is to dump you; quite the contrary, we both see you as a good and regular, sex partner for us.” 

“Kyle and I both subscribe to the maxim that variety is the spice of life. We both like to play the field and you are very welcome as a newcomer to our circle. You see, Rob, what I wanted to say, was that in inviting you back to my place – well actually Kyle’s place, as I, his closest friend, have just moved in – you changed from being my client to become friend. So whatever we do together from now on, we do together as friends and there is no question of any payment. We do what we do with friends, is because we want to do it; it is not to earn a living.”

You could hear the relief in Rob’s voice as he said: “Well I am, of course, delighted, that you and Kyle see me as a friend and a worthy partner. Frankly, Liam, first meeting you, and then Kyle, together with all you two have taught me in such a short time, has completely changed my outlook on life. You made me see what I had been missing out on for all those years, during which my only activity was: I think the expression is contemplating my umbilicus, better known as my navel. But that still leaves unanswered my question about beating my ass. Will you or will you not do it?”

Although I had had my own backside paddled times without number by the school principal, Homer Vollands, and more recently by Paco Obregon, the PE instructor, who had then gone on to introduce me to the world of gay-sex, in which I now moved, I had never much cared for having my ass thrashed.  But it takes all sorts to make a world and my one experience of wielding the cane myself over the Christmas-New year period on Paradise Island on Jeremy’s willing ass had been a new, and I regret to admit, enjoyable experience for me.

You will doubtless remember, that Jeremy was one of the many guests, all exclusively male, for whom 20 or so appropriately well-equipped, young studs, me among them, had been recruited to pamper  them sexually over the vacation period.  At his express request, which I had first resisted, wielding the cane on Jeremy’s ass had revealed to me a hitherto latent totally unknown, sadistic side to my character. I shame to say it, but the unpalatable truth which I had to face, was that I found that I had thoroughly enjoyed inflicting pain on the naked ass of a fellow human being, whom, also again at his request, I had then gone on to fuck. 

The Schadenfreude element in my character had suddenly revealed itself. There was no getting away from the fact that I had enjoyed delivering every stroke of the cane I had given Jeremy. But looking at the striped, bloody condition, in which I had left his ass, I found it hard to believe that he was enjoying the pain, as he claimed he was. But if that was what he wanted, then who was I to criticise him, especially when beating his ass gave me so much pleasure?

Now, here I was again faced with a similar request from Rob to thrash his ass; and not only to thrash it, but to use, as I had on Jeremy, the rattan cane, an implement of punishment almost alien to American culture, which, as I knew only too well from personal experience at school, preferred the paddle. However, I was faced with giving Rob an answer to his question: would I or would I not cane him? On the one hand, I knew that I personally enjoyed inflicting pain on other men. But I still found it difficult to get my head around the the fact that there were apparently men in this world, who actually liked the pain of the cane across their bare asses.

In the case of Rob, acceding to his request was made even more difficult by the fact that I liked him enormously and saw him as a long term sex partner for Kyle and me and our close coterie of friends who shared our sexual tastes, without the discipline angle. Anyway, in the end, seeing the pleading look in his eyes, I said that I would do it. I rationalized my decision to myself by the fact that the beaten, Rob, and the beater, me, enjoyed the process; therefore why not?

“OK, Rob, you win. As soon as I can get hold of cane I will beat your ass for you, exactly as if I were an English public school master correcting one of his pupils, which, I think, is what you want.”

I didn’t tell Rob about the incident with Jeremy or how much I had enjoyed, what was my maiden beating of anyone’s ass, as I did not want him to get the idea that I was a sadist. But in my heart of hearts I knew that I had an alternative, an alter ego named Mr Hyde to my character, just waiting to be let loose from the Dr. Jekyll I usually was.

Rob brightened up considerably when he heard that I was willing to wield the cane on his ass, ostensibly uniquely for his pleasure. I would have been mortified for him to know that I was looking forward to the event as much as he evidently was, as I had feigned my eagerness to say yes under a façade of reluctance. Inwardly, I hated myself for my duplicity, knowing that I was going to enjoy myself tremendously giving his ass absolute hell with the cane, with the promise of an immediate sexual sequel, which seemed inevitable and would add to my overall pleasure.

If I had hoped to put off the inevitable, which now, I suppose, in view of my own recognition that I enjoyed beating ass, qualified as a happy event for both of us – he wanted it and I was secretly looking forward to doing it, but had nevertheless pushed it off into the future by saying: “As soon as I can get hold of a cane, we can make a date.”

My hopes for a postponement to a later date of what had, anyway, become inevitable, were immediately dashed to the ground by Rob, who said, “No need to delay things until you get your own cane Liam, as in my bedroom, I already have several brand-new canes, just waiting to be used;  so no time like the present.” What could I say? I was snookered.

Rob more or less led me by the hand into his bedroom, where he showed me not just one cane, but a whole cardboard box of them, bearing the inscription: Finest Straight-Handled Rattan Punishment Canes together with the supplier’s name: National School Supplies – London: England, On opening the box, which Rob had evidently just acquired, as it was still sealed, a complete set of six punishment canes of graduated calibre was revealed, together with a leaflet extolling the superiority of the contents and indirectly congratulating the purchaser on his choice.

You have chosen a special selection of the finest rattan punishment canes currently available. These canes are the choice of leading public schools throughout the UK and in the former British colonies, where corporal punishment of male offenders is still very much used.

These punishment canes are made from the stems of particularly dense form the rattan vine, Calamus ascipionum densa. Due to their additional weight, when compared with the traditional Malaccan cane, they give added sting to the act of correcting offenders. 

This straight-handled version of the traditional, crook-handled cane is exclusive to National School Supplies and offers the user a firmer grip and greater accuracy in placing his strokes. These canes are only destined for application to a subject’s posterior, which, for the best results, should preferably be bare, They  are NOT suitable for use on the palm of the hand, as is still common practice in State Schools

Please note that the speaking length of these canes is a full three feet, in addition to the handle.

In addition to the canes, as a testimony to his seriousness about getting his ass whacked, Rob had also bought a professional adjustable beating stool: a modern reproduction of a Victorian piece of furniture dedicated to ensuring that the buttocks of the unfortunate offender were in a correct position to be attacked by the cane. It was a sturdy wooden stool, with a rectangular leather padded top, of which the height could be adjusted to ensure that the ass of a person of any height could be correctly positioned for beating.  Two of the legs were fitted with projecting wooden handgrips to enable the poor sod, whose ass was on the line, firmly support himself during his ordeal.

As I looked at this array of professional instruments of punishment, I tried to reconcile two diametrically opposed feelings of what I had committed myself to do. On the one hand I knew I would hate myself for inflicting pain on Rob’s ass, even though he had, figuratively, begged me on bended knee to beat him. On the other hand, I knew from the one experience I had had with Jeremy that the sadistic side of my character would out, and I would enjoy what I was doing.

As he looked at the brand-new canes, Rob said: “What I would like you to do for me, Liam, is first to give my ass a warm up session with one of the lighter canes, such as I regularly received at Little Churton prep school and then go on with heavier, senior cane, as used by the Headmaster of Churton College. In both cases, I don’t want you to hold back, but to give my backside absolute hell, which is what I experienced many times at both Churton establishments.”

 “You see, Liam, I want to relive here and now, my schooldays in England and I hope that you are going to help me me realise my dream. Call me a perverted masochist if you wish, but my secret pleasure is having my ass thrashed. Of course, as you and Kyle have taught me, a man’s ass can give him a great deal of that other pleasure of the flesh. So to be quite clear, what I want you to do is to thrash my naked ass for me and then go on and fuck it.”

There was no need to ask Rob when he wanted these two events to take place, as whilst he was talking he was already stripping of his clothes and was well on his way to being stark naked. Believe me the that the sight of Robert Nadolna starkers, with his magnificent 12 inch endowment fully erect at 45 degrees to his body, and ready for action was an irresistibly arousing sight for any man straight or gay. For me it was the final straw which broke the camel’s back of any of my remaining resistance to what Rob wanted.

Any reticence I had been still harbouring about thrashing a friend, suddenly vanished at the mouth-watering sight of the naked buttocks of this eminently beatable and fuckable muscular young stud, who was standing in front of me, more or less pleading for me to take him in hand. My own 10 inch erection, which in spite of my own feigned reserve, was already clamouring to be freed from the restraints of its usual habitat in my underpants and trousers.

Once allowed out of its customary confinement, totally uncontrollable as it always was, it made no bones at all about what it wanted (when did it ever?)  It sprung immediately to rigid attention, its circumcised knob already liberally dripping with precum, giving its message loud and clear: “Let’s get started”.  Given the dripping readiness for action of my cock, it would have been difficult for me to deny that I was looking forward to beating Rob’s ass. My strident cock said it all. Rob had helpfully selected the two canes with which I was to perform my dual maiden – if that is not a contradiction in words; but I am sure you see what I mean – attack on his ass. By the time I had picked up the lighter of the two, Rob had already assumed the position over the beating stool and was eagerly presenting his bare ass to me for attention.

Rob could not resist giving me a few final instructions: “First, Liam, do not hold back; I want you to use maximum force. Forget that we are friends and treat my ass as if it belonged to your worst enemy; I want to feel real pain. Also, wait about five seconds between strokes to give me time to appreciate the effect of each stroke individually. Oh, and when you come to the six with the senior cane, don’t worry if you break the skin; it was sort of par for the course in a beating by the Headmaster at Churton College. What I want is to relive those good, bad old days of my public school education in England.”

Listening to Rob tell me what he wanted was almost like replaying a record of what Jeremy had said to me, when I had made my first attempts at flogging someone’s ass.

But Rob had not yet finished with his instructions, as he added:  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that the lower part of a guy’s ass, where his buttocks join his legs, called, for obvious reasons, the sit spot, is more sensitive to pain than the upper half of his buttocks, just below the small of his back. So I recommend that you reserve four strokes with each cane, for that lower area, so that I get the maximum benefit from your efforts.”

Frankly, I could hardly believe my ears what Rob wanted me to do to him; giving me such precise instructions as to how to administer the strokes to maximum effect. He was clearly deeply committed to the, to my mind, very doubtful pleasures of flagellation, the result of which, as recipient, speaking, as he had done, of maximum benefit and not of maximum pain, he obviously enjoyed immensely. I uttered an internal sigh of relief that I was not embarking on a tit-for-tat adventure, requiring me to submit my own ass to similar treatment from Rob. But reflecting back to my one and only experience of ass beating with Jeremy, which, in spite of my initial misgivings, I had thoroughly enjoyed, I realised that Jeremy too had waxed lyrical about the pleasures of having his ass beaten. It takes all sorts of people to make up the world.

There was obviously a certain demand for flagellation services; and as my one and only attempt at ass beating had left me sexually both exhilarated and fulfilled, why should I not continue, just so long as there were candidates to thrash and I did not have to put my own ass on the line?   I admit that I was still somewhat ashamed of myself.                                                                                          Having only once committed an act which I had initially turned down, but which had given me such immediate pleasure, I was now preparing to repeat it. Moreover, I found that I was positively looking forward to beating Rob’s bare ass and the sexual sequel which would inevitably follow it. I had to face the fact full-on; I did have a sadistic streak, which was propelling me to such acts of sadism, which I, regrettably, enjoyed enormously.

I picked up the lighter two canes which Rob had selected for my two successive assaults on his ass and saw that it was well under a half inch in diameter, but in spite of its slenderness, which allowed me to bend it practically full-circle, it had the necessary rigidity to enable the user to accurately place his cuts on his victim’s ass. I realised that I had to stop thinking of Rob as the victim, which implied that I was forcing him to submit to punishment, when nothing could be further from the truth.

From his position of willing submission, bent over the beating horse, Rob, that fount of all knowledge on matters of flagellation, informed me that junior canes used at Little Churton prep school he had attended in England measured 3/8 inches in diameter and that the senior cane used at Churton College measured a full half inch. Blinding me with mathematics, he could not resist telling me that the senior cane, although only 1/8 inch greater (33%) in diameter than it junior homologue, packed a 78% increase in weight. “And that is why,” he smugly continued, “The senior cane is devastatingly more painful.  Now, as I am sure you are already aware…”

At this stage I cut him off, as he was obviously warming to the subject of the mathematics of flagellation, of which he had clearly made a detailed study: “Rob, I think I know enough about how to cane a naked ass, so don’t you think, Rob, that it would behove us to get on with matter at hand?”

Then, without asking him if he was ready, I laid the junior cane across the midpoint of his ass and prepared to start the first part of a twelve cut flogging of his bare buttocks. At the first touch of the cane across his bare flesh, his buttocks automatically flinched, only to resume their former relaxed position immediately. But if I had stopped Rob giving me a lesson in the mathematics of flogging, I had not succeeded in shutting him up completely. I suddenly saw that Rob was a born teacher himself and was eager to impart his knowledge to others.

“Liam, you will probably have noticed that the moment you laid the cane across my naked ass, my buttocks automatically tensed in preparation for the blows to come. You doubtless also noticed that almost immediately they relaxed again. Whilst the tensing was an automatic reaction of the body to defend itself, the subsequent relaxation was not. As you are new to the act of beating, and have not been subject yourself to what to some of us are the painful pleasures of an English public school education, you are probably unaware that the cane bounces off firmly flexed muscles.”

“Whenever I was being beaten at Churton, which, I can tell you, was a pretty frequent occurrence for me, it was always a bare ass affair; no matter who was wielding cane; Headmaster, housemaster, head-boy, house captain or prefect, they all sang from the same hymn sheet and always ordered their present victim to relax his ass muscles, otherwise extra strokes for disobedience would be given. It seems be a generally accepted fact that a relaxed ass beats better than a tense one.”

“When I say beats better, I mean that the recipient feels greater pain. So, I quickly became accustomed to relaxing my muscles without being ordered to do so, to intensify the pleasure of oncoming physical onslaught on my bare ass, As I quickly became aware, being beaten, rather than a punishment, was something I really came to enjoy. You see, Liam, although the immediate pain is excruciating, it soon settles down into a warm glow, which I still find very satisfying as an adult today; which I why I desperately want you to beat me as hard as you can.”

“Before you begin, I hope you will forgive me for giving you one tip on technique. To ensure that when the cane mates with my naked flesh I get the maximum benefit from your efforts, I think you will find that if you flick your wrist at the moment of impact, you will achieve that extra something which will elevate your performance to the heights of perfection for both of us.”

And so I was finally ready to deliver my first stroke to Rob’s entrancingly attractive ass. Without thinking about it, I quite naturally stood on Rob’s right, raised my right hand, in which I was holding the cane, over my left shoulder. Then at maximum speed, and with what I suppose was an innate degree of accuracy – it was certainly not a skill acquired by from long experience – I brought the cane down backhand away from my own body, to land, with a resounding crack on poor Rob’s naked ass, in the exact spot where I had first laid it.

I am not sure why I mentally qualified Rob with the epithet poor, as he was the instigator of his own excruciating pleasure of induced pain.  But is spite of the pleasure that both of us, beater and beaten, were getting from the operation, I could not dispel feeling sorry for for Rob for what I was doing to him.

I guess that my first stroke also, quite naturally, took in Rob’s recommendation about the wrist flick. Delivering the stroke in my unusual backhand manner, which to me seemed completely normal; with my hand fully above my left shoulder, my wrist was automatically bent almost at right-angles to my arm, so that the cane was practically horizontal. When the stroke landed on Rob’s ass, my hand sharply redressed itself to its normal alignment with my arm, thereby increasing the intensity of the bite of the cane. Thus that final final flick of the wrist, the so-called mark of the seasoned practitioner of the noble art of flagellation, happened more or less automatically due to my backhanded attack.

However, I was amazed to see that even with the 3/8 inch, light, junior cane, the first livid stripe, with clearly defined raised, tram-track-like edges, appeared almost immediately. Looking at the first evidence of my handiwork, I found it hard to believe how anyone could enjoy subjecting his own body voluntarily to such pain.  But both Jeremy and Rob were proof positive that such guys did exist and that there was a demand for PCCP: Professional Consensual Corporal Punishment.

To my own private shame, which I could never shake off, I finally acknowledge to myself that I had, quite by chance, stumbled, by accident, upon an outlet allowing me honourably to exercise that sadistic side of my nature, which I had only recently discovered existed. After all, if the recipient wanted it, then who was I to deny him his wish? With that optic, I attempted to assuage my own, ever-present conscience. I would have hated anyone but Kyle, with whom I shared even my darkest my innermost thoughts, to know that I actually gained a great deal of pleasure from the combination of beating ass and then going on to fuck the very ass that I had just beaten.

Of the other five cuts, I place one just below the first and the other four, evenly spaced, on the highly sensitive, lower part of Rob’s buttocks. Then, with unerring precision, I placed the six further cuts with the senior cane between the stripes I had already given Rob. He must by then have been in utter agony as, at his request, I had not held back and had broken his skin in several places. 

If ever I had needed confirmation of the strong relationship between sexual arousal and corporal punishment, at the moment, our two bodies said it all. Both of us were sporting absolutely massive erections and my own cock, by dripping huge crops of precum like a leaky faucet, was telling me, in no uncertain terms, that it wanted to get on with the next part of the proceedings, in which it would rule the roost.

As I looked down at my dripping tool, I saw that I had never been quite as sexually aroused as I was at that precise moment; my body had outdone itself; my penis, always hard when it wanted to fuck – and when did it not? – was now harder than I could ever remember it being. Somehow, it looked bigger, in every way, than it had ever done in the past whenever it had wanted to get the show on the road. My cockhead, obviously gorged with blood and gleaming with a generous film of precum, appeared more bulbous than ever before. All in all, I saw that what I had just done to Rob’s ass had also worked wonders on my own libido.

If Rob had denied me my sexual fulfilment at that moment, I doubt that I could have stopped myself raping him. But that was, of course unnecessary, as we were both of a positively identical frame of mind; we both wanted to have sex with each other; he to be fucked by me and me to fuck him. Without saying a word, he hauled himself stiffly up from the beating stool and went and lay on his back on the bed. He spread his legs, bending them back, holding one each side of his head, thereby giving me an uninterrupted view of his deliciously tight, anal pucker. Never in my two years of intense copulation, with innumerable different studs, could I remember ever having been presented with such an obviously no-holds-barred invitation to shaft another guy.

What was amazing was that Rob, as a newcomer to sex himself, was now evidently intent – and how! – in catching up on what I wryly thought of as his sadly misspent youth of missed opportunities. The physically highly attractive and sexually super-endowed Rob had sadly spent his time contemplating his navel when he ought to have been concentrating on developing the sort of sexual activities, which befitted the young homosexual he undoubtedly had long known that he was. But with his foot now firmly on the accelerator pedal, he was catching up for lost time at a rate of knots, as our physical congress that evening testified.

As we both our cocks were literally overflowing with precum, there was no need for pre-lubrication. I knelt before Rob’s invitingly spread legs, took the enormously swollen head of his penis in my mouth and gave him pre-penetration blow job. As I took his cockhead into my mouth, I sensed from the way he was leaking cum that he was already well on the way to orgasm, induced by the caning he had just received. It again brought home to me of the close physiological and psychological connection between sex and corporal punishment  I was, therefore, not at all surprised when after a few brief moments working on his cock with my tongue, he suddenly climaxed into orgasm into a veritable tsunami of sperm.

To misquote the 23rd psalm, my cup, in the form of my mouth, really did run over onto my face, as I gagged on the sheer volume of Rob’s viscous, creamy jism, which he uncontrollably ejaculated, partly down my throat and partly into my mouth, from where a considerable quantity dribbled down way into his anal area, where it was appropriately to serve as additional auto-lubricant for the next phase of our liaison.

I now moved on to Rob’s anus, the entry port to his passage to that ultimate pleasure for both of us, as I fancifully thought it, as I prepared myself to penetrate him..  Due to the exceptional readiness and desire sex which the caning had aroused in both of us, my cock too was already engorged. Stretched to the bursting limit, as if there was no tomorrow, it was already leaking precum in spades and straining at the reins for action.

As the tip of my cock touched his anus, I felt that automatic tensing of his entire body, as his port of entry prepared itself instinctively to repel all boarders. However, before Rob, who was, of course, a willing party to what was happening, had had time himself to relax his anal sphincters and allow me to penetrate him more comfortably, the deed was done. With one powerful thrust and in one smooth, uninterrupted movement, I gave him the benefit of my hard ten inches, easily overcoming his initial automatic resistance.

As I bottomed my pelvis against Rob’s ass, pressing my cock to its fullest length home deep inside of him, he let out a moan of extreme pleasure: pleasure which I too felt to an unusually pronounced degree. I waited a full half minute, allowing both of us to enjoy that profound feeling of relief, with which the act of penetration always imbues both parties even in a mutually agreed sexual liaison. Only then did I begin the inimitable reciprocating movements which are indissociable from any act of copulation between human beings.

But due to the severe, sexual arousal, to which I also had been subjected by our joint actions, I knew after the first few thrusts with my cock that I had not that proverbial snowflake’s chance in hell of holding off my climax until I had brought Rob to the edge of his own, which, as ever, had initially been, and still remained my intention. This was a new experience sensation for me as I was, for the very first time I could remember, not completely in control of my own actions. I had been so overcome by the emotion and unusually arousing nature of the circumstances that I found myself like putty in the hands of a force majeure, which, at that moment, was controlling everything.

However, as I was in the middle of fucking Rob, I saw little option but to continue with what I was doing. The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry; as I had predicted to myself, on only my third thrust, I found myself powerless to hold myself back any longer and climaxed with almost explosive violence with my cock buried deep inside of Rob. It was as if I was in the vice-like grip of that enormously powerful, unstoppable force, with which sexual desire imbues human beings, as I vigorously pumped my premature load deep inside of him.

I had, as ever, automatically withdrawn my cock from Rob’s anus, before giving him my last coup de grace and forcing the full ten-inches of my Priapic boner at great speed and with considerable force back into his innermost depths, leading to my own uncontrollable climax. This was accompanied by the emission of a seemingly never-ending stream of my sperm and the most intense orgasm which I could ever recollect.

I cursed myself for my lack of control over my own body and my failure to bring Rob to orgasm. He was, after all, new to the whole business of sex and to anal copulation in particular and, as his tutor in gay-sex, which is how I saw myself, I felt that it was up to me to show my first pupil how I thought things should be done; and I already had gone and blown it! Luckily for me, from the happy noises Rob made at the moment I filled his innermost sanctum with my sperm, he did not apparently share my own jaundiced view of myself. Nevertheless, I was determined to put things, as I saw them, right. So after a pause to allow each of us to recover from our respective orgasms, both of which had been induced by my efforts, I took up where I had been so rudely interrupted in my attempt to fuck Rob through to his anally induced orgasm.

Thinking about what had just happened between Rob and me, was reminiscent of stories I had heard – no firsthand experience here – about the young guy, intent on losing his virginity on his girl-friend, who is rather more experienced in sexual matters than he is, finds he either that he cannot get it up, or having penetrated her, ejaculates immediately. Either way, both the girl and he are left totally unsatisfied.

That is exactly how I felt when I had lost control of myself fucking Rob just now. As an enthusiastic newcomer to sex, the young guy in the story had learned his first key lesson: that his cock had a mind of its own and if it did not want to play ball, it would not do so. However, come what may, both the apocryphal young stud and I would live to see another day, which for me, I was determined was to be right now.

My cock was still buried deep inside of Rob and was still hard and ready for further service; when was it ever not? Rob’s own dick had softened after I had had my premature emission of sperm and was lying there in all its flaccid glory on his belly.  Make no mistake, Rob was so very well endowed that even when soft, his cock looked magnificent; it was a real eye-opener. As I started to fuck him again, on my first thrust, realising what was happening, Rob’s immediate reaction was absolutely classic; he promptly grabbed his dick in his right hand and started to work it to regain his lost erection.

As most guys bottoming usually do, his intention was obvious; he intended masturbate whilst I was fucking him. This was diametrically opposed to my own intention, which was now to fuck him hard and take both of us through to orgasm; hopefully simultaneously. I felt I had to do this to enable me to re-burnish my tarnished pride that as a professional purveyor of sexual services, I had not been able to control myself.

Frankly, I doubt that Rob was aware of the fact that I had climaxed too soon, thereby robbing him of his own orgasm; he was just happy to have been fucked following his beating and to have climaxed into my mouth as I was giving him a blow job.  And so, at the end of the day, it was basically to assuage my own guilty conscience that I was about to fuck Rob again. Of course, if I succeeded in my endeavours, he would have the pleasure of experiencing the simultaneous orgasm produced by his top partner; a sensation just so unbelievably intense as to knock all other forms of reaching the ultimate sexual satisfaction into a cocked hat.

In view of what I considered my recent failure, I gave Rob the full length of my my cock, which was now behaving impeccably, having so sadly let me down a few minutes ago and began very steadily to pump his ass. Knowing that both he and I had had premature climaxes, both induced by my efforts only a few minutes earlier, I had no illusions about the effort necessary to bring either of us to orgasm, let alone simultaneously. I knew from the word go, that I was in for the long haul; so I rapidly built up my rhythm and force to what might best be described as fever pitch.

Within one minute of the beginning of my assault – yes I admit that it was an assault – on Rob’s ass, I was personally in the throes of intense sexual arousal as I battered him at ever increasing speed and ferocity, giving him my full cock length at each stroke.  I was encouraged in my efforts by Rob, who after a few minutes under my onslaught, repeatedly cried out: “Don’t, stop now, please don’t stop now.”

By now, I was sweating like a bull with the effort I was expending. Had there been anyone watching me fucking Rob, which there was not, they would have witnessed a rare spectacle: a muscular pair of buttocks (mine!) controlling a ten inch boner (also mine!) with my buttocks playing the roles of the high pressure cylinder of a steam locomotive, reciprocating at ever increasing speed, with my cock acting as conrod, in this case driving not the wheels of a locomotive via an eccentric, but transferring its full power to Rob’s receptive ass, in search of that illusive orgasm.  I think I can safely say that any onlooker would have been treated to a textbook demonstration of what constituted the nec plus ultra, the absolute ultimate, of a hard anal fuck. For my sins, which I was trying to expiate, I admit enjoying every moment of it.

But I would not be satisfied until, in my own eyes, I had redeemed myself fully from my earlier gaffe, and so I continued to batter Rob’s ass mercilessly, until he suddenly screamed: “Yes that’s it! Now! Now! Now!” At that, I seized that carpe diem moment and without hesitating withdrew my entire member from his anus. Then, without pausing, with one final, powerful thrust, I took us both over the edge into that blissful state of unbelievable nirvana: the simultaneous orgasm.

For the second time that evening, I deposited an enormous pay-load of my own sperm deep inside of Rob. He simultaneously showered himself and me with his equally generous second load of the evening. I can safely say as that in spite of the sticky, glutinous mess of his sperm, which was everywhere, we were both in seventh heaven.

We remained, glued to one another by Rob’s copious emission for several post climax minutes. Neither of us wanted an encore, being content to bask in the afterglow of my efforts, which had resulted in the most tremendous orgasms for both of us. For me, it was the greatest and profoundest sexual experience I could remember since having become sexually active over two years ago. In that time, I had had a great number of orgasms, as sex had become such an important feature in my life that I could no longer live without it.

But for Rob and me, to have continued any longer, after the sublime moment we had shared, would have been an anti-climax for both of us, even if either of us had had the stamina to continue further. I frankly admit that I certainly had not. One has to face the fact that for the top, serious sex is always hard work; the battering I had given Rob’s ass, had left me exhausted and him super-contented; But he too, was totally knackered: like a dishcloth wrung out by my efforts, until it was almost dry.

By common, unspoken word, we eventually pulled ourselves apart heaved ourselves to our feet and went into the shower. There, we had the pleasure of fondling and soaping each other’s body and washing away the sweat of our copulative efforts. I was touched when Rob said to me:  “You know, Liam, I consider myself privileged to have found you. I had no sexual experience at all before I met you; but it was you,  and you alone, who saved me from my innermost fears and introduced me to the world of gay-sex, which I now both realise and accept offers me the only way to my future sexual fulfilment.”

“Liam your efforts today have been absolutely Herculean, way beyond the call of duty and if I felt physically up to it, which I admit I am not, I would have liked nothing more than to have been able to give you a return bout; but honestly, it is not for lack of desire, for I would just love to rough fuck you in the way you have just done for me, which I found breathtakingly exhilarating. Believe me when I say I’m just too worn-out to make a decent job of it; so let’s save it for the next time we meet.”

I could hear the disappointment in Rob’s voice on his admission that he was too tired to fuck me; but I could see that the battering I had just given him had also drained him of any strength. I might add that I too felt weak after our joint session, which had taken all my power and concentration of mind to achieve.  But whilst we were still relaxing under hot water of the shower, I sensed that Rob, for the sake of his pride, needed to make some sort of physical contact with me.  Hence, I was not surprised, nor did I resist, when he moved behind me under the shower and pushed the tip of his burgeoning 12 inch boner against my anus. I saw that that uncontrollable piece of flesh between his legs, with that mind of its own, which every man has experienced at sometime in his life – often at an embarrassing moment – was crying out for some sort of action in spite of its master’s declared tiredness.

And so, Rob gracefully ceded defeat to his insistent cock and very gently proceeded to share his full, rock-hard length with me in the sexual equivalent of a farewell handshake. He treated me to a few, gentle, but nevertheless forceful, full-length thrusts, before finally withdrawing. With this simple gesture, he not only salvaged his own pride, but also satisfied his cock that it had not been forgotten He then turned me around, hugged me tightly to himself and kissed me on the mouth and said; “Thank you for being so understanding, Liam. You really are a great guy, whom I am lucky to have met.”

CHAPTER 32.

Two days later Rob personally took me around to see the apartment I had rented via Nadolna Realty. It was perfect for my purposes. 

To my surprise, Rob presented me with a box of punishment canes identical to the one we had opened together at his apartment just the other evening.  “I thought you might find these useful.” he said: “I think that if you offered physical discipline in addition to the sex in your escorting business, you might find you attract more clients once the word gets around,  which believe me, Liam, it will. I can tell you, Liam that I am not alone in liking to have my ass thrashed. And now that I had discovered, gay-sex, thanks to you, I find the combination of having my ass beaten prior to having it fucked, quite irresistible; And, I don’t think that I am alone in that.”

The apartment had a parquet floor, and so I saw no need for carpets, as it would be easier to clean. I had already resigned myself to living with the fact with the fact that gay-sex could be quite a messy business. I also had to face the fact that I would have to lash out on quality furnishings as I felt I could not charge what I intended to and receive the sort of top-level, well-heeled clients on whom I had already mentally set my cap, in other than tip-top surroundings.  I took Kyle with me on a shopping expedition for furniture. So having decided on top-quality stuff, we went to the then still operating, top department-store in Chicago, Marshall Fields on State Street and ordered everything there.

An in-house design consultant, whom I judged to be gay, guided us in our purchases. I quickly got impression, that Anthony, for that was his name, had divined for what purposes we were furnishing the apartment and guided our choices accordingly. It almost broke my heart to deplete my small capital on expensive furnishings; but Kyle insisted, quite rightly – when was he ever wrong? – that I was an investing in my future career.

When Anthony offered to come around and arrange the furniture and hang the window drapes for me, I gratefully accepted. It goes without saying, given that Anthony proved himself to be of the same sexual bent as Kyle and I, we jointly rewarded him for his services, over and above the call of his duty to Marshall Field, by inaugurating the newly installed bed with a three men fuck. In fact, we were both so taken with Anthony’s sexual abilities that he became a friend and sex-partner to Kyle and me and regular visitor to the much more humble apartment that I shared with Kyle.

Of course, egged on by Kyle and my first three enthusiastic clients, Ray, Doug and Rob, it was on a wing and a prayer that I had decided to try my luck as a male escort. I need not have worried, for Ray and Doug, in spite of what they both claimed to be happy marriages, turned out to be enthusiastic swingers. Thanks to their spreading the word that there was a sensational – their word, not mine – new boy on the block, my nascent career took off rapidly.  So rapidly, in fact, that I soon found myself snowed under with the demand for my services. Money seemed no object to the well-heeled sort of business-men, all of whom stemmed from my initial contacts with Ray, Doug and Rob. Half my new clients, most of whom became regulars for my services, I visited in their offices; the rest I serviced in my new apartment.

Rob spread the word around that I was available for discipline in addition to sex. Once I got used to the fact that there really were more men out there than I had realised, who enjoyed having their asses beaten with a cane prior to sex and were willing to pay top dollar for the privilege, I was forced, to my eternal private shame, to admit strictly to myself, that I thoroughly enjoyed exercising the hidden sadistic streak, which meeting Rob had revealed to me. To be quite honest, the combination of beating a guy’s ass prior to having sex with him .became my all-time favourite pastime: an act, which I always thoroughly enjoyed and for which I the men, on whom I practised it, willingly paid a small fortune. 

The demand for my services increased at an exponential rate so that I soon found that I was snowed under by the demand and had to tell prospective clients that I was fully booked for the present month. Within six months of launching myself into the role of a professional male escort, I was pulling down and incredible $1000 a day, or $5000 a week. I quickly decided that I would service a maximum of two clients a day, to allow me adequate time to satisfy their needs.

Clients were shelling out a minimum of $500 a shot for my services and I felt that they deserved their money’s worth. You might think that fucking other men for money was a pastime which, like most repetitive jobs, would quickly lose its initial allure. Allow me to affirm to you that you would be so very wrong. Of course, I can only speak for myself, but let me assure you that, for me, sex never lost its appeal; I subscribe a 100% to the adage: sex is a toy which never fails to please.

I attribute one of the reasons for my enormous success to the fact that, whoever the client, I always stuck firmly to my principal that sex was a mutual act and I always strived, as an absolute minimum, to fuck every client through to at least his own orgasm, unaided by any handwork on his own cock by him. I admit I did not always succeed in taking the client through to that nec-plus-ultra of sexual fulfilment: his orgasm simultaneous to mine; but I religiously continued, even if I myself had prematurely climaxed, which was quite often the case, until I had induced his own orgasm in him.

In this mutuality of the sex act, I think that I differentiated myself from other male escorts.  The number of guys, beating at my door, clamouring for my services, seemed to confirm this. One thing I noticed however: it was only the odd guy who came to me because he wanted to exercise himself on a professional escort. For the most part, I was the one who normally assumed the active role: I fucked the client rather the client fucking me.  Not that I had any objection of playing the bottom role if a client desired it, for as I have said, I enjoyed both fucking and being fucked equally.

During that first year of my professional career as an escort, Robert Nadolna became an increasingly regular visitor to the apartment I shared with Kyle. It quickly became obvious to me, that even though I was the one who had introduced Rob into our lives and even though Kyle and I continued to sleep together in the same bed and we three still had sex together, that Rob and Kyle had eyes only for one another, which meant only one thing. Forewarned is forearmed and  therefore I was neither surprised, shocked nor angry to find Kyle and Rob in bed together one day, about a year later, when one of my clients had, quite unexpectedly, cried off and I unexpectedly returned to the apartment during the day.

Not expecting to be disturbed they had left the door of the bedroom open. Engrossed, as they were, in each other, they had not heard me enter. Thus I was able to watch them not simply fucking, but to realise that Kyle was making serious love to Rob, who was bottoming for him. I watched their love making for quite a few seconds, before announcing my presence with a discreet cough.

Far from being embarrassed to have been caught in flagrante, so to speak, Kyle immediately took matters in his stride and, as ever, in his cool, calm and collected way said: “Oh, do come in Liam, as Rob and I have to tell you of an important decision which we have just this afternoon taken together: a decision which will affect all three of our lives. You cannot have been blind to the fact that during the past year Rob and I have become very close to each other; so close, in fact, that we have both realised that we had fallen in love with each other. We have, over the course of the last year, since being introduced by you to each other, both come to see that we were made for each other; so, under the circumstances, as we have fallen in love, we have, just today, decided to throw in our lot with each other and live together as a couple.”

“What we have decided is that Rob will sell his enormous apartment on Lake Shore Drive and we will rent a smaller place where we will live together as an item.  I almost said; as man and wife: but you know enough about our sex life to realise that that would be a totally incorrect description of the sort of sexual relationship we have all hitherto had together and which Rob and I intend to continue once we are living together.”

“Now, I know that this will come as a shock to you, in view of our long and intimate personal friendship, which pre-dates our sharing this apartment; but I am sure that you knew, as well as I did, that close and sexually intimate though our friendship has been and I hope will so remain, it was a friendship which stopped short of any feelings of true love for each other. You and I have both known that one day we each would find that partner for life, for whom we were desperately searching, but had not yet found. So we both were aware that one day one of us – who, in the event, on the luck of draw, has turned out to be me – would find the perfect guy for himself and would leave the other. Well that is exactly what has happened with Rob and me; we have found each other!” 

“Now, here is what we thought might be an amicable means of effecting the break-up of our hitherto happy little household of just you and me, without too much collateral damage for you, as you are the innocent party in all this. Neither Rob nor I want our mutual friendship to end in tears; in fact, quite definitely, we do not want the fact that we are going to live together as an item, to end our three-way, sexual friendship at all, as we both value you as a friend and serious sex partner. Other than the fact that you will no longer be sharing this place with me, nothing will radically change to disturb the status of our ménage à trois. Rob and I still want to play the field as we have done hitherto as we both subscribe to the dictum that variety is the spice of life.”

“This having been said, a number of changes will have to be made immediately to take account of our changed relationship. Now that I am formally committed to Rob, it is obvious that it is impossible for you and me to continue sharing the only bed in this place. Rob has kindly offered to lodge you in a hotel, at his expense, during the transition period while we are searching for a suitable apartment in which to begin our life together. Once we have found a place and I move out of this apartment, I have arranged with my boss at the gym for you to take over this place a minimal rent.  So you will not be turned out of house and home by the fact that I have moved with Rob.”

Kyle had obviously given a great deal of thought to this dramatic shake-up of the status quo. I was deeply touched by the way that both he and Rob had attempted to soften the blow and render as palatable as humanly possible, what was to me, a devastating piece of news, which would change all our lives forever.  Of course, as we had both known, one day one of us would be the first to find his dream guy and that our snug little existence living together as the best of friends would come to an end. Looking at the situation philosophically, it could equally have been me, who was upsetting the applecart.

There was, in fact, no completely painless way of breaking up our long and intimate friendship. Although both Kyle and Rob had gone out of their way to soften the blow, I would be lying if I said I did not mind the prospect of coming home to an empty bed, even though Kyle and I had only ever been the very best and most intimate of friends and had never pretended that we were in love with each other, which we were not. The fact the matter is that I dreaded life without Kyle.

“Oh why, oh why,” I lamented silently to myself, “Had Kyle and I not fallen in love with each other?” But this was not the way the cookie had crumbled. There was no accounting for human attraction of one person for another; I knew that I would be pissing into the wind even to think of trying to change matters. However, even though Kyle and I had only been best friends, I confess I did not like the prospect of having the bed to myself after a year of sleeping with Kyle, even though we both knew that one day our idyll would come to an end, which is precisely what it just had done.  Although I was shattered by the news I had just received, I bemoaned my loss silently to myself. I was, however, simultaneously delighted that my closest friend and sex partner had managed to find his true love.  I am certain, knowing Kyle as I did, that he would have been delighted for me, had I been the first one to hit lucky and fly the nest.

So faced with a fait accompli as I was, I decided to make the best of the hand I had been dealt.  Had I had to face the present situation a year ago, I would have been in dire financial straits. But I was now a very successful male escort with several strings to my bow. I did not need charity in the form of Rob’s offer to pay for a hotel room, as I had the apartment where I received my clients and could easily lodge there until Kyle and Rob were settled in their new apartment.

But I saw that it was imperative that I leave Kyle’s apartment immediately as it had suddenly become untenable that I spend even one more night in bed alone with him. So I quickly made as if to gather together a few of my clothes, enough to tide me over in my own place for a few day, intending to come back later to clear out the rest of my stuff. I kind of liked the shabby apartment where Kyle and I had lived together in perfect harmony and was more than thankful to him for arranging for me to stay there, albeit alone, after he had left.

It was then that Rob suddenly said: “Liam, there’s no need for you to leave so precipitously. The news you have just heard does not mean that it is the end of the world for you.”

“Like hell it does,” I thought to myself, as I heard his words. “Just you try to see how you would feel, to come home and learn suddenly that your best friend, with whom you have been living and sharing a bed with for the past year, is now going to shack-up permanently with someone else. Believe me, my friend, it may not be the end of the world, but for me, it is the end of the world as I have known it for the past year.” I knew that basically Rob was just trying to be kind; to soften the blow, which both Kyle and he knew I had just suffered. But nothing could immediately compensate me for the sudden loss of Kyle as my well nigh, nightly sex partner.

It was not that I was short of sex, which I was most certainly not, for over the past year, sex had become my stock in trade. But it was reassuring to come back home and be sure that one’s partner would always be there. I realised then for the first time, foot-loose and fancy-free to do as I wanted, just how much the stable home life had meant to me over the past year. The void left by Kyle’s departure would be a difficult one to fill. As Rob had said, it was not the end of the world and I would recover from the blow. But even knowing, as I always had, that one day the status quo, which Kyle and I enjoyed together, would one day have to change, when the axe finally fell, as it just had, I nevertheless felt gutted.

Rob continued, attempting to pour oil on troubled waters, saying: “Look, Liam, why don’t you join us now. You know that Kyle does not much care for my penchant for having my ass beaten and I am really in the mood for a beating right now. So why don’t you just strip off and do me the honour of wielding the cane which you do so well and satisfy my little perversion, before we three commune together, as usual.”

That is precisely what I did: I stripped myself naked and prepared to thrash Rob’s bare ass as he had requested. Looking down at my own cock, I saw that, as ever, it had already risen to the occasion and was oozing  precum at the thought of what was certain to follow the beating,

What I need to add here, is that since Rob’s arrival in our lives, he had deposited one of his beloved cartons of canes in Kyle’s apartment. As the regular visitor, which he had fast become, he had, from time to time, relied on me, to gratify his desire to experience the pain of the cane. It was quite true what he had just said; Kyle found the whole business of corporal punishment distasteful and refused point blank to involve himself in any aspect of it. I, on the other hand, thanks to Rob, had found that I enjoyed beating ass, which enabled me to exercise my hidden, sadistic nature.

As. they would henceforth be living together, in view of Kyle’s abhorrence of corporal punishment, the question did cross my mind, who would attend to Rob’s needs for the bite of the cane. But that was a problem for them to resolve together. Doubtless, as Virgil wrote: Amor vincit omnia – love conquers all – they would work out a modus vivendi satisfying them both.

However, given the unusual circumstances leading to Rob’s current request, under Kyle’s disapproving eyes, to my shame, I gave the Rob’s ass absolute hell, as I lashed the cane down on his bare flesh. I really went to town on his ass so that when I had finished, he was sporting what any English public schoolboy would recognise as a superbly well-beaten ass:  twelve strictly parallel, well defined, deep livid furrows, running from the small of his back to the top of his legs. Thanks to my efforts Rob must have been in the absolute agony, which he claimed he enjoyed.

As I looked down at my handiwork, Rob made no effort to heave himself up from the chair, over the back of which, he had, from his English public school education, assumed the classical position to allow his ass to be beaten. As he was evidently waiting for the customary sexual sequel to what I thought of as his suffering, but which he obviously was enjoying.  Standing there stark naked as I was, I decided not to disappoint him. My own cock was raring to go – when was it ever not? As it was oozing precum in spades, I decided to forgo my usually meticulous lubrication and thrust my full ten inch boner deep into Rob. He let out a moan of what I took to be satisfaction that he had not been abandoned halfway through what had become, over the last year, a two pronged ritual: beating followed by sex.

I had barely begun to fuck Rob, when I felt Kyle’s rock-hard fuck-stick penetrate my own anus. Even if I say so myself, what now took place was quite the best and most intensely successful, three-man fuck I have ever had: speaking also for Kyle and Rob, the best three-man fuck, which we had all ever experienced together; and allow me to assure you, as a trio, we had lot under our belts. Kyle followed my every move, like the experienced cocksman he truly was. As I withdrew myself on each withdrawal-stroke from Rob, Kyle thrust his cock forward into my ass. Both he and I used maximum force and Kyle succeeded brilliantly not only producing his own orgasm, pumping his load deep inside me, but he also managing by some miracle to induce in me my own orgasm, which I unloaded deep inside Rob.

At the moment I experienced my orgasm induced by Kyle I was still some way from taking Rob to his climax, which was my privately avowed intention. With Kyle resting on his laurels after his very successful onslaught on my ass, I gave my cock its head as I went ahead like a man possessed and battered Rob’s ass relentlessly, until, as if by magic, but basically because of my persistent hard work, the second miracle happened. I suddenly sensed that I had taken Rob to the very brink of his climax and with one final, full length powerful thrust of my cock; I took us both to orgasm simultaneously.

Now, with the best will in the world, even the greatest anal copulator of all time, which super-stud I do not claim to be, although with some pride, I consider myself on being pretty damn good at the act, cannot, by cock work alone, guarantee to take his bottom partner through to his climax every single time they have sex together, let alone promise to engender in his partner orgasm simultaneous with his own. So our ménage à trois had been exceptionally successful, in that it had produced two sets of simultaneous orgasm, of which I had had the exquisite pleasure of experiencing both: the first by the effort of Kyle on my own ass and the second by my own efforts on Rob.

I think we all appreciated that we had just shared together an amazing sexual experience. Normally we would have gone on having sex with one another, for at least another hour, before calling it quits. But I think we all appreciated that what we had just experienced together was something special: that once-in-a-lifetime experience, which nothing can follow.  It was like a performance of the final movement of Beethoven’s last sonata or Bach’s Goldberg Variations under the fingers of a great keyboard performer; once the final note of either piece has been sounded, there can be no encore: everything worth saying as just been said.

To misquote Alexander Pope: to fuck is human, to achieve orgasm divine; while to achieve simultaneous orgasm is a miracle. I was somewhat sad that we had had such a remarkable sexual experience on what was for me, at least, such a depressing occasion in which my world had just been torn apart by the unstoppable power of sexual attraction of one man for another. Not that I lacked for recreational sex partners, for I still copulated regularly with my friends of the CCC. Nevertheless that absence of Kyle would be a huge void in my life.

CHAPTER 33.

Kyle and Rob soon found a place suitable for them to move into and I moved back into Kyle’s old apartment, which was owned by Max Connelly, for whom Kyle worked at the gym. I confess I felt lost, somehow incomplete, without Kyle beside me in bed at night, even when we were not copulating together. It was not that I lacked for recreational sex; quite the contrary, in fact, for I kept up a regular and vigorous, active sex relationship with all my friends. But somehow it was not the same as having Kyle permanently there.

Then quite unexpectedly, possibly the best thing since Kyle’s departure happened to ease my loneliness. My landlord, to whom I paid a derisory low rent for what I still thought of as Kyle’s apartment, who was Kyle’s boss at the gym and, like Kyle and me, was as died-in-the-wool gay as you could wish to meet, suggested to me a quid pro quo deal. He had heard, via Kyle, I suppose, of my sexual prowess and the deal he suggested was that in return for servicing him once a week, each Saturday evening, when the gym closed at 8 p.m. night and I could, in return, live in the apartment rent free.

My escorting business was booming and I could easily offer to pay for the apartment. However, as Max – Maximilian Joseph Connelly by name –as befits the owner of a gym, a well set-up, handsome, muscular stud, of Irish extraction, about 30 years of age, was exactly the type of, big cocked, muscular guy, with whom I would have been happy to have sex for free, I accepted his offer on a trial basis for one month. I reasoned that it would at least introduce some permanence into my private sex life.

If after that time either one of us was dissatisfied with the arrangement, then the whole deal could be called off by either of us and things would revert to where they started and I would again start paying rent for the apartment.

I am happy to be able to tell you that things went swimmingly well between Max and me. What was intended to be a one shot service call by me on Max’s ass, had transformed itself by midnight on that first Saturday evening, by common, unspoken accord, into a torrid, non-stop session of two-way sex. It was as if we could not get enough of each other. I woke up on the Sunday morning after our first Saturday night fling together, to find a naked Max in bed with me by my side, still sleeping soundly.

So once a week, each Saturday night for the next year, I was blessed with a reliable partner, with whom I thoroughly enjoyed having sex and who spent the night in bed with me. Max became only the second man in my life, with whom I had actually slept, as distinct from having sex. Frankly it was the one night of the week when I did not miss Kyle and I was truly happy with my lot in life, which made my search for a permanent partner still more important. I knew to be truly happy long-term that I had to find a permanent partner whom I would find at my side each morning when I awoke, but one, who like me, enjoyed the variety of playing the field.

I wanted a permanent, stable home-life, but simultaneously the ability to still be foot loose and fancy free to have sex with a variety of guys; Moreover I wanted a permanent partner who shared this apparent contradiction in terms. I wanted to have a partner, on a strict one to one basis, but who, like me, enjoyed casual with other guys In brief, I wanted to have my cake and eat it. Was I asking too much of life? Only time would tell!

The thing that the liaison with Max brought home to me was the supreme importance of a stable relationship to me personally. Thanks  to Max’s stable surrogacy of permanence, I saw that if I was ever to be truly happy as a gay man, I had to find and fall in love with the right guy and he with me, exactly as Kyle and Rob had fallen in love with each other. Why, oh why, did I not fall in love with Max, whom I liked tremendously and he with me. Well, very simply, because it was not in our stars; it was not meant to be. It had been exactly th same with Kyle; I was experienced enough in life to see that, as now with Max, it was just not meant to be. Such things cannot be made to happen; they just occur spontaneously. 

If I had not introduced Rob to Kyle, they would probably never have met. But each of them would have gone off and found a guy, other than me, to whom each would have hitched himself. That is why I was not resentful of either Kyle or Rob; they were just right for each other. However acknowledgment of that fact did not stop me sorely missing Kyle. But I decided stop feeling sorry for myself dolefully contemplating my naval and set about actively finding the right man for myself.  Common sense told me that I was not the only person to hold my somewhat unusual views on sex. Somewhere out there, there must be many guys with the same outlook on sex as me and it was up to me to find and fall in love with just one of them and he with me.

But I saw from experience that finding my life partner was not anything which I could organise. If it was to be, then it would come about by chance; one day I would meet the right guy for me. I have to say, though, looking at my friends in the CCC, I found the prospect of ever coming across the right life partner for myself, somewhat discouraging. With the exception of Paco Obregon and his life’s partner Darren Joshua, all my other friends were resolutely single. Evidently in spite of regularly having sex together, not one of us had found among our mutual friends – and make no mistake, we were very intimate friends – the right guy to hitch up with permanently.

But then I began to think and ask myself if I was the exception which proved the rule; did my friends want a stable home life for themselves as I desperately did; or were they all satisfied with the foot-loose-and fancy-free, no-strings-attached sex lives which we all enjoyed individually as free agents? Was I asking too much of life to hitch up permanently with a guy with whom I could create a stable home-life for both of us, in the way I had done with Kyle and together play the field in search of casual sex? I saw that what I wanted had worked for Kyle and me for the simple reason that we were just close friends and not tied together by the constraints of love.

However, I was encouraged to think that I might one day succeed in my quest, in observing what had happened to Kyle when he had hitched himself firmly to Rob in what was obviously a love match. The two of them although quite inseparable, had continued with their sex lives in much the same way as before. I, along with other mutual friends, with whom they had, in the past, frequently had sex, had not been dropped from their lives, as I had feared we might be.

But I discerned an important difference in our gatherings. Whereas previously I had been able to have sex with either Kyle or Rob on an individual basis, now, whenever a third party was involved, as I frequently was and also on the occasions when we met with our friends for group sex, both Kyle and Rob were always – and I do mean always – present together. They no longer played the field individually but exclusively together as an item. The freedom of action, which they had enjoyed when they were just close friends, had vanished now that they were living together partners.

They had become an item, completely inseparable from each other, almost as if soldered together at the hip. They were still a pair of swingers, but now they always swung together. Perhaps that is what the future, which I hoped one day to fashion for myself, would look like. I would have to compromise on being a free agent, in the interest of creating a stable home life; yes free and easy sex with third parties as before; but no longer alone; always together with my as yet, unknown, future partner to be!

CHAPTER 34.

During the next year my escort business boomed. I was overwhelmed with calls for my services, which I had never actively promoted, as all my clients came to me by word of mouth.  I could have sold myself several times over each day, but I resisted the the temptation to service more than two clients a day, Monday through Friday. I never cease to be amazed at quite how much money rich guys were prepared to spend on what they considered to be a top-level fuck delivered by an anonymous professional escort, with a large cock – in the event, me.

Indeed, some guy, whom I was forced to turn down, down as I was already fully booked for the next four weeks, went figuratively down on his bended knee on the phone, offering me double my normal rate to experience my technique just one time. With such demand as this tintinnabulating in my ears, it is not surprising that I myself finally accepted that I did have that something special, which I had been told I possessed so often over the years, by countless guys with whom I had had sex.

However, I resisted over-extending my physical capacity, keeping voluntarily, as if I was a member of some imaginary sex-workers’ union, strictly to two clients each day, Mondays through Fridays.  I normally started work on my first client around noon each day, aiming to finish with my second around six in the evening, thereby reserving considerable strength for my very active, private, recreational sex-life with my friends, which could and often did go on into the early hours.

In the year following Kyle’s departure, the highlight of my week was undoubtedly each Saturday evening when Max came around to my apartment and we made the nearest thing to love between to gay guys who were not actually in love with each other. Max’s once weekly visits increasingly convinced me of the importance for me of the need to find the man with whom I could have a stable home life, in the form of someone who was always there.

Frankly, in the full knowledge that we would eventually have to break up, as Kyle and I had ultimately done, if Max had suggested that he move in with me, which he never did, I would have been overjoyed. I absolutely loved the guy’s brief weekly presence in my life, without actually being in love with him. The French distinguish well in their language between these two types of love in that they say; je t’aime bien, for the type of love I felt for Max and je t’aime, for the real thing. But, then, of course, the word aimer in French means to like and to love. So the expression, je t’aime bien, goes further than just liking the person to whom it is addressed, but still stops short of going the whole hog.

For the year following Kyle’s departure, in addition to my escorting business, I continued to lead a regular, active, casual sex life with my friends, including Kyle and Rob, who proved themselves the most faithful of friends and never abandoned me.  However, I became on obsessed by my desire to find some man whom I could love and envisage hitching up with for good. I surveyed my numerous friends and came to the foregone conclusion that to the last one of them, they were all loners.

They were close friends; all good for a casual no-strings-attached fuck, but there was not one among them I could ever see as my life’s mate. And so I rapidly reached the same conclusion, as had doubtless countless, young, regular men before me, when seeking a female mate; I had to frequent places where I could make first social contact specifically with gay men: I had to widen my circle of acquaintance.

I took to visiting venues patronised by gays around Chicago, which are legion, most of which are, in general, frequented by guys looking for a one-night-stand. However, I needed one-night-stands as much as I needed a hole in the head, as I had plenty of friends who were more than willing to oblige me with no-strings-attached sex. That is, however, how I came, completely by chance, to meet the young guy with whom fate had determined that I was destined to spend the rest of my life; until death do us part, as is intoned in the standard version of the wedding service.

It was one Friday night in the very plush, up-market, gay Bacchus Bar, that I first saw the sublime young man, who, as I later learned, was called Brett Foxx, with whom I fell head over heels in love – I think that is the expression – on first sight.

I knew, from the moment I first saw him, that fate had destined us for each other and I can do no better than repeat here, what I said in the first paragraph of Chapter 1 of this story.

“I was just 22 when first met him, one Friday night in early January in the Bacchus Bar, a very up-market, gay clip-joint, located in a side-street off North Michigan Avenue in Chicago, near some of the city’s most prestigious hotels. I didn’t know the guy from Adam; but from the moment I clapped eyes on him, standing there at the other end of the bar, I just knew that fate had destined us to be together. Ask me not how I knew; simply accept that I somehow did. And when he finally saw me looking at him and returned my hungry gaze, I immediately sensed that the feeling was reciprocated. By a slight, almost imperceptible motion of his head, he clearly indicated that he wanted me to follow him as he left the bar.”

He obviously knew the place like the back of his hand. I followed him, compelled by that invisible force known as sexual attraction, down a corridor and then up a staircase into a room, the furnishings of which said it all. He closed the door of what I now saw was the bedroom-bathroom suite we had just entered and turned and looked at me.

With an initial jolt, I saw that the incredibly attractive young guy in front of me was of mixed race. Now I myself, like so many Americans, am a result of a mixed race marriage, being the product of a Celtic mother and a Slavonic father. However as both my parents had been of white races, it is hard visually to tell what my ethnic origins are, as it is with the vast majority of Americans, many of whom are of mixed, white, racial background. This has led to the expression, mixed race, being used to describe – often derogatorily – people, who are obviously not white.

The dream guy in front of me was sinfully handsome and obviously had a touch of the African tar-brush in his ethnic make-up, as he had certain features which one associates with black African Americans, although he did not have that key characteristic of curly, thick black, wiry hair. I could see, even though, at the moment, he was fully dressed that there was a muscular body hidden beneath his stylish clothing. My eyes inevitably descended to his crotch and I saw his eyes simultaneously descend to mine, where promising bulges on both sides augured well for the immediate future.  We had so far not spoken a word; but as he was obviously on home ground, he offered me a hand saying: “Brett Foxx,” to which I replied: “Liam Doyle.”

From the context  and place of our meeting, as it was obvious what we both wanted and without recourse to words, Brett immediately started to undress, with no obvious embarrassment, indicating that he was as much a swinger as me: a guy, who was used to having sex with unknown guys to whom he was attracted.  As I had been bowled over by him on first sight, there is nothing I wanted more at that moment and I followed suit. As we stood for a few moments naked, facing each other, assessing each other’s credentials, the only question that posed itself was who was going to make the first move. That we were going to have sex with one another had been obvious to both us, from the moment in the bar when we had done no more than exchange glances and I had obediently followed him out of the bar, like a puppy dog,.

I saw that look of lust develop in his eyes as he visually took in my cock, which, as usual, true to form, I had not been able to control. It was pointing itself, like a loaded gun, directly a Brett, who in a way, I suppose, was partly responsible for its present behaviour. Not, as you already know, that my cock ever needs much encouragement to ready itself for service, whenever even the faintest prospect of sex is even vaguely on the horizon.

Looking down at my ten-inch, rock-hard stick of man-meat, I knew that I looked formidable: even menacing. I was, therefore, relieved to see that Brett was also sporting a boner, the likes of which, if not quite so impressive as my own offering, most men would have been proud to possess. Now my own balls are held close to my body and one of my pet hates is a guy with a pair of pendulous balls – well-hung is, I think, the expression normally used to describe them –which are totally uncontrollable and flop about every which way when their owner is fucking ass. Therefore, you can imagine my relief when I saw that Brett’s kit resembled my own to a pronounced degree. His balls were also held close to his body, making his rigid boner and ball combination, evocative of a howitzer on its carriage ready to fire.

I noticed that we were both so totally aroused just by the sight each other that precum was leaking liberally from each of our rigid members, indicating that they, if not their masters, were both ready to go. As we each feasted our equally lustful eyes silently on the other, it became increasingly the one of us had to make the first move and break the tension between us, which by now had built up to such a level that it was almost crackling with static electricity. As we were on Brett’s home turf, so to speak, I decided to leave it to him to initiate our first physical contact.

It was not slow in coming; but when it did, I was taken completely by surprise. Brett suddenly advanced, put his arms around me and gave me a long, deep kiss, forcing me to open my mouth which he proceeded to explore with what was obviously a very expert tongue, in the way experienced and regular lovers often do. Now, I have long considered any form of kiss on the lips a more intimate personal act than any of the multiple sex acts involving, mouth, cock and anus. It somehow unites the two participants mentally in way which the simple fucking of the one’s ass by the other, or oral sex, in all its many variants, do not. And so I welcomed this first act of supremely intimate contact between us, by responding vigorously in kind.

Brett clearly wanted to feel my naked body against his. His arm embrace gradually tightened as if to make one of our two bodies. Our two rigidly erect cocks were sandwiched vertically between our bellies. By this time, they were both expressing their desire to be called into serious service by voluntarily and uncontrollably oozing volumes of sperm-less precum, as if it was going out of style, So there we stood for a few moments united both by our lips, while the copious own sticky liquid emissions spread like thin liquid glue across each of our abdomens and chests.

It was almost as if the abundant precum was a connective, conducting fluid, uniting us via our skin. I can tell you, speaking for myself, it had for effect a heightening of the erotic feeling of arousal that was surging through my body, to such a level of intensity, that it took all my will power to stop myself from climaxing and ejaculating my entire load between our bodies there and then.

Luckily this did not happen as mind won over matter and I managed to hold back on my imminent climax, helped by a slight reprieve of the tension, as Brett detached his lips from mine and whispered his first words into my ear since telling me his name: “Please fuck me, Liam; please, please, please fuck me hard; I want you to fuck me as hard as you can, I want to feel your magnificent fuck-stick deep inside of myself. Just go ahead and do your very best; or should I say your worst? Anyway, please just fuck me as hard as you can” 

Of course, I was more than happy to fulfil his request. Actions speak louder than words and he reinforced his request that I fuck him by manoeuvring us over to the bed, onto which he threw himself onto his back, pulling me down on top of him. I detached myself from him and he promptly pulled his legs one each side of his head and held them there with his arms around his thighs presenting himself to me, in what is known in the world of gay-sex as the egg position, thereby giving myself my first clear view of his port of entry. I almost jumped for joy when I saw that he had a really small, tight anal-pucker, which augured well for a decent vigorous, non-sloppy fuck; one where, where the bottom partner grips his partner’s cock with his anal muscles throughout, thereby wringing the maximum of erotic pleasure out of the act of copulation for both parties.

The inside surface of his butt cheeks, leading naturally to his all important anal port of entry, was as smooth as baby’s bottom, being totally free of even the vellus hair which so often grows there. All in all what Brett was offering me could not have looked more deliciously enticing; in fact, it looked too good to be true; but, as events turned out, it delivered everything which it was visually promising.

Brett motioned towards a bedside cabinet, in the top drawer of which I found an unopened packet of Trojan condoms and a tube of Anolube, anal lubricant. I held up the Trojan packet enquiringly to him; but he waived it away saying: “Liam, I’m clean, as I suspect are you too; so lube me well up and let’s just do it bareback this first time.” I could not have been more delighted, for I desperately wanted to feel his bare, private flesh directly against mine.

I thoroughly lubricated his hole before carefully anointing my own cock, which was behaving impeccably; it was on the top of its form,   for what was subsequently to prove a very special occasion. I may have been indulging in a fantasy of self-delusion, but as I looked down on my tool, it seemed to be bigger, both in girth and length, than I had ever remembered it previously; and, let’s face it; I very frequently saw it ready to do battle. But I have to say, that whenever the slightest whiff of sex was in the offing, my dick was never slow in coming forward to offer its services, even if I had, on many occasions, been forced to bring it to heel.

But today, I saw no reason to hold it in check, as I wanted, even more than it did, to experience the delights which I sensed this first fuck of Brett Foxx was about to give me. Perhaps I should have said to both Brett and me, as I intended from the start of this, which I already sensed might potentially be the most important fuck of my life, to take Brett to heights of erotic sensation which I suspect he had never even known existed. It was with this optic in mind that I made the first tentatively hesitant contact between the tip of my penis and Brett’s anus.

As ever, at the first touch of my cock, his anal muscles tightened, with that inbuilt, automatic reflex, to repel all boarders. But Brett obviously wanted my dick so badly that he immediately relaxed, allowing me to slide my full ten inches into his rectum with one uninterrupted thrust of my pelvis.  Just the act of penetrating him, always in itself a uniquely satisfying moment in any act of intimacy, took on a much greater significance than usual: I was finally having sex with the man of my dreams: the man, whom I had been seeking for so long and had instantly recognised on first sight as being the man, with whom I fervently hoped I would spend the rest of my life.

Penetrating Brett added a whole new, profoundly sensual dimension to an act which I had performed dozens of times over the past two years with many different men.  But never, had I ever derived such intense pleasure from any preceding initial act of union, as when I penetrated Brett’s anus for the first time and slid my cock fully inside him.

Even as I achieved this imperative preliminary step towards full sexual intercourse, I was acutely aware that thanks to Brett’s initial mouth and body contact, I was already so aroused by the thought of what was to come, that I was almost on the point of climaxing myself even before I had actually penetrated him. I knew I would have a hard time delaying my own climax long enough to enable me to fuck him through to his own orgasm. But I had promised myself that this is what I would do; or better put, would attempt to do, in what I already considered as the most important single fuck of my life.

CHAPTER 35. 

I had no idea of what Brett was expecting of me. How could I have as we hardly knew each other? Other than asking me to fuck him hard, from which bald request I had not shied away, we had exchanged few other words. But actions speak louder than words; and through our individual actions and behaviour, we had each somehow silently transmitted to the other, loud and clear, that although we had never met before and we did not know each other from Adam, we both somehow knew that this was not just another casual affair we were                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               embarking on; and, moreover, both of us knew it! I knew instinctively that, in Brett, I had found my life’s mate and I fervently hoped that he was as unattached as I presently was and felt the same about me.

Brett had taken on himself the initiative of establishing the first body contact between us, but had then given over to me the altogether more serious task of consummating the first sexual union between us. So although I found myself, in what was for me the not unusual position of having my cock deeply embedded in a man, whom I hardly knew, which was par for the course for the type of recreational sex, in which I frequently indulged, this was for me, and I sensed also for Brett, not the usual one-night-stand.

I saw now that push had really come to shove for me with a vengeance and that it was now up to me to reveal to Brett what I considered to be the true light of all sexual relationships, whether hetero or homosexual: the mutuality of the physical act, in which the two participants express their love for each other, without which there can be no enduring understanding between them.

As I began the reciprocating thrusting and withdrawal movement with my pelvis, that inimitable and inescapable movement of all sexual intercourse, I knew I would have to steel myself and not permit myself to climax too soon, before I had had the chance to show Brett the ultimate pleasures of a truly serious fuck.  I was only too aware that just the physical body contact and the deep kissing we had enjoyed together, had, quite exceptionally, already taken me to the very brink of my own orgasm. In the highly aroused state in which I now found myself, I doubted that I would be able to hold myself back long enough to fuck Brett through to his orgasm before I climaxed myself. As for achieving that nec plus ultra of anal copulation, the simultaneous orgasm of both partners, well, I already knew that this was probably not going to happen.

And so, doubting very much my ability to hold myself back from shooting my own load long enough to allow myself adequate time to pound Brett’s ass and bring him anywhere near to his own climax, I resigned myself to what I very much considered the second best, which, for me, was the ultimate, embarrassing ignominy of an uncontrolled, premature ejaculation of my own load inside him and then going on pound his ass until he eventually achieved orgasm. I was determined, come what may, that I would take him through to his orgasm by efforts with my cock alone and avoid the manual assistance to orgasm by both parties, which is  alas, the most frequent method to achieve orgasm in anal sex.

Of course, I was completely unaware of Brett’s thoughts of what for him constituted a perfect fuck by his partner when he was acting as bottom. Tied up, as I ever was, in my own lofty, principled concepts of the mutuality of the sex act, I had considered only my own dramatic arousal by the physical body contact between Brett and me, which he had initiated, but the sequel of which he had handed over to me to deliver. I had become so concerned about my own ability to deliver what I considered a credible performance that I had neglected to take into account that he too might be as sexually aroused by his own actions towards me as I myself had been.

I had noticed the warning sign from his cock, which, like mine, was also dripping liberally with precum, which should have alerted me to his advanced state of arousal. But I was so concerned with what I saw as my own problems, that I completely ignored the fact that Brett might be sharing some of the same concerns as those which was myself experiencing.

Here I was, performing, possibly the most important sex act of my life, with a man, with whom I had already fallen deeply in love, without knowing anything at all about him. I had already penetrated Brett and given him my first tentative thrust with my cock, when an amazing transformation occurred between us. I don’t know exactly how many men I had had sex with over the past three years, especially as for the last year I had been exercising my profession as a male escort on a daily basis; but it was a lot. However, I had never had an experience like the one I was now having with Brett.

As I commenced thrusting with the full length of my cock at each stroke, he somehow suddenly seemed to melt into me, until we two together felt like one body. It was the most extraordinary, but also the most sublime feeling for me and I wondered if Brett was experiencing the same.  But, it had for effect of banishing all my fears of the potential inadequacy of my maiden performance on Brett’s ass, together with fear of a premature ejaculation. Quite suddenly, I again became my normal confident self.

However, it was certainly not the normal union of a first fuck which we experienced together. After my first few thrusts, Brett suddenly cried out repeatedly: “Yes, yes; please go on; that’s it; that’s it; I am almost there so please, please, don’t stop now as I am going to come.”

On hearing those words, I withdrew my cock completely from his anus, waited for a couple of seconds, with my penis poised in the air above him as usual, before thrusting, my full length one last time back into him, with all the force I could muster. What does it matter if it was a triumph mind over matter or the inverse? The important thing is that with that final, powerful thrust of my cock, I took us both over the edge into that sexual bliss, known to so few and experienced by even less: the fleeting, but unbelievably exquisite sensation of the simultaneous orgasm.

As I ejaculated my own sperm, deep inside Brett, in what seemed to be a never ending series of uncontrollable jerks, he, at the precise, same moment, dumped his equally generous load, in a series of overtly explosive spurts, all over both our chests. I could not believe that such a miracle had happened, given the inauspiciously despondent frame of mind in which I had found myself only a few minutes ago, when my thoughts on the outcome of our prospective union had been dire. But now, here were, having enjoyed together what is, at the end of the day, the be all and end all of any sexual union, whether gay or hetero. The enjoyment of orgasm at the same time as one’s gay partner is as rare as a hen’s teeth. Its existence is unknown to many gay couples and is something, the experience of which is vouchsafed to so few.

I take no personal credit from having been the main performer, in having brought about this momentous result, which had happened spontaneously, so quickly and quite unexpectedly. I was as surprised myself, as imagine Brett also was, with the outcome of our first coupling.

But here and now, I will repeat again. what I have said many times earlier; the hands-free orgasm induced by the actions of the top alone uniquely with his cock, simultaneously in himself and his bottom partner, is more intense than any orgasm ever induced by jerking off solo or in a group; or even that induced by that surprisingly not so common an occurrence of the top achieving his own orgasm alone by fucking his partner’s ass. Without doubt the simultaneous orgasm in both partners to an act of gay, anal, sexual union is worth all the tea in China. I just hoped that Brett appreciated what he had just experienced. Was; he even aware of the miracle that had just occurred?

As usual after any climax of which I was the prime mover, I allowed my body to collapse on top of my partner, to give both of us time to appreciate what we had just achieved together and to relax somewhat after the strenuous sexual gymnastics of copulation. But this time, I was not allowed to enjoy my respite for more than a few minutes as Brett suddenly rolled us both over so that he was now on top of me, in what I suppose is the command position. The next thing I knew, without a single word was that he was entering me with his rock hard, sizeable boner, still slick with his own semen, which was acting as surrogate lubricant for my passage. I was nevertheless relieved to have this impromptu answer to my hitherto unasked question as to whether my newly found partner was just a bottom or a full line performer in the gay-sex game. 

He then proceeded to batter my ass with long full length strokes of his quite sizeable dick, with much the same vigour as I had just expended on him. I confess I was relieved to see that, like me, Brett obviously liked equally both of the key active and passive acts of gay-sex:  fucking and being fucked; a fact of which I had, unavoidably by force of circumstances, been ignorant when I had been inescapably attracted to him at first sight. I had only known immediately that I wanted to fuck him. I can tell you at it came as a relief to me to learn, that my prospective life’s partner, for that is how I already saw Brett, was, like me, a full-line gay and not, as could have been the case, just a dedicated bottom in search of his dream top. 

I had always envisaged my life with another man, as being one of equals, where we both mutually enjoyed, and engaged in, all aspects of gay-sex. I would have hated to enter into a permanent relationship, where one partner played the role of wife and even referred to his partner as my husband. I asked myself in view of the fact that I was irresistibly drawn towards Brett, whether if he had been a dedicated bottom, it would have made any difference to the way felt about him.  It was a question, which, I confess, I was relieved not to have to pose.

But I had to settle one other burning question: “Was Brett equally attracted towards me as I was towards him? Or were the sexual acts, in which we were both actively indulging up to the hilt, for him, just those of a flash in the pan? One thing was quite sure; from the way he was presently battering my ass, Brett was a vigorous cocksman, who was enjoying what he was doing. But I sensed from his actions that he was like most men; his basic motivation was in serving himself; I doubt that the idea of the mutuality of the sex act with his partner, the basis of all my thinking, had ever crossed his mind. Nevertheless, going at me hammer and tongs as he now was, Brett was proving himself to be a first-rate cocksman.”

Brett was one of the relatively rare breed, who even if he had no idea that given a little more application, he might eventually be able to fuck his bottom partner through to orgasm, was, at the moment, at least intent on reaching climax himself inside me and shooting his load into my innermost depths, without resorting to manual assistance to reach his own climax.

When he climaxed, leaving me, by a long chalk, far from my own orgasm, he had given me an exhilarating ride with his magnificent cock, the likes of which I but rarely experienced with most of my regular partners. In fact, of all my regular partners, only Kyle had ever measured up to my exacting standards. But I realised that I had nevertheless enjoyed Brett’s onslaught on my ass. In my highly aroused sexual mood, I thought philosophically that if we finally got together, he was capable of improvement. However, when he finally withdrew his penis, glistening with a film of his own sperm after his first fuck, he was sufficiently sensitive to see immediately that he had left me marooned awaiting completion. He instantly took my still hard cock into his mouth, and proceeded to suck and lick me off to orgasm.

If he had a lot to learn about the finer point of gay, anal intercourse, I saw that there was nothing at all I could teach him about oral sex; indeed quite the inverse, as he showed himself to be a consummately proficient cock-sucker, who was able to bring me to my own climax within only a few minutes of starting work on my dick with his mouth.

At my moment of orgasm, which came amazingly suddenly, he had my cock head fully in his mouth. I suddenly became unable to contain myself any longer due the persuasive action of his tongue and ejaculated my load, almost explosively, into his mouth. Brett was as surprised as I was at the speed at which I had climaxed and almost gagged on the quantity of my semen that he had taken largely down his throat. I withdrew my dick completely, still in the uncontrollable throes of ejaculation, as soon as I saw that Brett was having difficulty swallowing my emission, and spurted the rest of my semen all over his face. “Gee,” he said, “You are really something else, Liam. You fuck my butt like an angel and then you pull this trick on me.”

Over the next two hours we sexually explored each other’s bodies as equals. I admit that I threw my principles of mutuality of the gay-sex act to the wind, swept away in the euphoria which Brett’s vigorous approach to sex generated in me. At the end of the day, I was happy, that Brett, through his actions, showed himself as enthusiastic for me, as I secretly was for him. By the time we had exhausted ourselves, there was little that we had not done to each other.

Brett had also given me my first experience of anal rimming, an act which I had always fought shy of myself. However, as the recipient rather than the performer of the act, I found that I had thoroughly enjoyed his efforts. He literally devoured my anus with his mouth, before going on to fuck me for the nth time that evening. In fact, I found myself so sexually aroused by my first rimming that by the time he penetrated me, it was all I could to stop myself from climaxing too soon again. 

It was eventually he who called time on our activity by suddenly saying: “Liam, all this strenuous exercise had made me ravenously hungry: and I don’t mean that I don’t want to eat either your cock or ass again, delicious though they both are; but I am in need of some real food. So why don’t we clean up, get dressed and go and find somewhere to eat. That will also give us a chance to talk rationally and get to know each other.”

“Frankly, Liam, after all that we have just done together, I guess we both know the other’s body as well as we know our own: but beyond having been undoubtedly attracted towards one another on first sight and the intense three hour sex session we have just lived through together, we don’t’ know diddly squat about each other beyond our names. I can but assume that as you have gone along with the sex marathon we have just performed together, that you and I need, as the saying has it: to get to know one another better.”

“So, I suggest we move ourselves into my capacious shower and wash away the sticky reside of our bareback lovemaking, which seems to have got everywhere. Frankly, Liam, looking at the pair of us in the advanced state of debauched dissolution in which we now are, I can well see the argument for using condoms whenever one has sex. If introducing a braking effect into the spontaneity of sex, they do keep the sticky mess, which inevitably seems to accompany successful ass fucking, down to a dull roar,”

Showering together turned out to be, at least for me, almost as erotic an experience as sexual intercourse itself. The hot water was relaxing after our travails: serious sex is such tiring work!   As we soaped each other up and I ran my hands over Brett’s well muscled body, I felt my cock, which had again become soft after we had left the bed, that battlefield, where, for some three hours, it had bravely upheld itself and defended its cause, was again showing signs of life. In reward for its sterling service – anyway, that is the lie I told myself, in justification for my next action – as I thrust my well-soaped-up-every-ready-dick into Brett’s ass, giving him, however, only six, non-serious, playful thrusts by way of a closing gesture for what we had just been through together. 

The true fact of the matter was that even after a three-hour, non-stop session of intensely serious sex with Brett, I found I could simply not keep my hands of him. After my latest act, Brett turned to face me under the still running water, kissed me firmly on the lips and embraced me again in his arms and said: “Thank God, Liam, that there are studs like you still around, with an insatiable appetite for sex. Sex is what makes the world go round; it needs more guys like you with your appetite for sex, who are not afraid to show their true colours. You, Liam, are someone – and something – very special. Now let’s dry ourselves off, get dressed and go and eat, unless you want have guy who has died of starvation on your conscience.”

CHAPTER 36.

The restaurant was crowded by the time we arrived; but Brett, who was obviously a regular customer and I, were immediately shown to a booth, where we sat looking at each other, until after the waitress had taken our order. Waiting for the food to arrive, Brett began: “So, Liam Doyle, other than being one of the best; no, I am already doing you an injustice; so let me begin again. Other than being easily, absolutely the very best partner, with whom I have ever had sex, which, believe me, I am not saying just to make your feel good about yourself, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Where do you live, what do you do for a living and where did you learn to fuck like an angel as you do, and why have we never met before now in the Bacchus Bar?”

All these were perfectly legitimate questions; but I swallowed hard before answering him, especially about what I did for a living then how, I thought that if our nascent relationship was to grow into something more permanent, which, at that very moment, was the thing  I most desired in the world, I had to tell him the truth about myself. Taking the bull by the horns, I said: “Well if I were tell you that I earn my living by fucking rich business men, who are prepared to pay royally to have their asses reamed out by someone, who, as you have just said, fucks like an angel, would you believe me? By the way before you answer that one, how do you know angels fuck, if indeed they do? ”

“You have snookered me on that one,” he said, laughing but then with disbelief went on:  “But are you serious about what you do for a living?”  And then, seeing the downcast look of seriousness on my face he said: “Oh, my God, Liam; you are serious, aren’t you? Tell, tell, tell; just tell me all; I want the whole story, straight from the mouth of a man who is a professional copulator.”

And that is how I came to relate to Brett, the complete story of my sex life to date, starting with the loss, while still I was still at school, aged 16 years, of my anal virginity to Paco Obregon. “So I guess,” I concluded, “That it was written in my stars that I was destined for gay-sex. Now don’t get me wrong; nobody has ever forced me to sell myself for sex as male escort; I just, sort of, drifted into it. But it has become a way of life for me, and is how I presently earn my living.  I actually like the work, if you can call it that; it allows me to do something which I enjoy doing, which is fucking other men, while getting paid for doing something which I regularly indulge in free, gratis and for nothing in my spare time, as you have seen for yourself over the past few hours.”

“Finally, to lay all my cards fully on the table I must also tell you that in addition to my sexual services as a male escort, I have another string to my bow; I supply PCCP services to anyone who wants his ass caned. PCCP stands for Professional Consensual Corporal Punishment, for which, believe it or not, there is a surprisingly brisk demand from men in all walks of life: men who enjoy having their asses beaten before having sex with the guy wielding the cane.”

“While I have never understood why anyone should want to pay to have his ass flogged, a doubtful pleasure, which I have never experienced myself since leaving school, where I was paddled quite frequently, I discovered a sadistic side to myself, which enjoys inflicting pain on other men’s asses prior to fucking them, Beating a pair of bare buttocks and then going on to have sex with them, has become, for my sins, one of my favourite pastimes. So there you have it; in me you see a guy who is a professional fucking and ass beating machine, but who, in his spare time, is foot-loose and fancy free and still gets pleasure from having sex with other other men.”

“Now, to come to your specific question about how I came to meet you tonight in the Bacchus Bar. When Kyle, my closest friend, with whom I was living found his dream guy and left to shack up with him, I was left feeling very lonely. Kyle and I had never considered ourselves an item as both of us knew that one day, we would, hopefully, each find the right guy. But when that day finally came and Kyle told me that he was leaving to live with the man of his dreams, I can tell you the blow was hard. It was made even worse by the fact that the guy, to whom Kyle hitched himself, was originally one of my escort clients, to whom I introduced him. Ours not to reason why and attempt to explain the inexplicable vagaries of sexual attraction, but to learn to live with the consequences. Anyway, the two of them hit it off, fell in love, and decided to go off and live with each other, until death do them part, I think is the expression, leaving me quite alone.”

“Kyle is a great guy and still my closest friend and he tried to lessen the blow of moving in with Rob, by arranging for me to stay on in the apartment which is above the gym in the Loop, where he still works as trainer. The apartment is owned by Kyle’s boss, a man called Max Connolly who also owns and manages the gym. Max and I have since come to an arrangement, whereby he lets me live rent free in the apartment in exchange for a once a week service call.”

“What now happens is that Max spends every Saturday night in bed with me, in what is the apartment he owns. I confess that I would have been desperately lonely without the regular weekly visit by Max, a guy, whom I like enormously. But we both know, although it remains unspoken by either of us, that we are not intended for each other long term and as with Kyle, our close relationship will, some day, have to come to an end.”

“And it is precisely in searching for the right man, with whom I can finally settle down permanently and live, what I suppose is the gay equivalent of a happy married life, that I have, ever since Kyle’s departure, been continually searching for the right man for me. I have diligently done the rounds of the many gay parties, to which I am often invited, night clubs, gay bars and so on.”

“As you might imagine, I have a great many gay friends, with whom I regularly have sex, both individually and as a group. However, it is sad to say that even though I like them all tremendously, there is not one of them who lights that necessary spark in me to make me wish to shack up with him permanently. And I have to say that the feeling is mutual, for not one of my regular friends has ever made an overture towards me proposing anything more permanent than casual sex.”

“As the saying has it: there are horses for courses, but in my searches, I had not yet met one who could run on my course, let alone which I could ride, until tonight, when my apparently never ending odyssey in search of the guy, whom I was fast coming to believe I would never find, took me quite by chance into the Bacchus Bar and I first saw you propping up the other end of the bar at which I was standing.”

“Now, Brett, my friend, and I kid you not, I had the greatest release of adrenaline I have ever had in my life, within a split-second of setting my eyes on you. To give you an idea of what I experienced, within seconds of first seeing you, my ever faithful cock, that infallible, but infuriatingly uncontrollable indicator of my state of sexual arousal, aas as hard as iron and ready to do battle; so much so that, but for the Grace of God, I almost, but not quite, climaxed and dumped my load there and then into my pants.”

“That, Brett, is what the first sight of you did to me. So you can imagine what I thought when you motioned to me to follow you out of the bar; I almost had an orgasm just following you. With what has since passed between us, I am kind of hoping that you and I might be singing from the same hymn sheet, so to speak, and that we might see if we could sing together in harmony on a regular basis. The question is having now heard the potted story of my life and having done what we have just done together, where do we go from here?”

 “Do we now call it quits before we get in too deep with each other; or do we suck it and see and go on and see what happens? Wearing my heart on my sleeve, my dear Brett, for that is how I already think of you, I can say with all sincerity that I fervently hope that this evening will not prove to be just another one-night-stand, as I would like to continue our nascent relationship and see what develops. I actually do believe that it was fate which brought us together this evening. So, there my friend you have the situation, as I see it at the moment,”

Brett looked at me for the longest time before answering; so long, in fact, that I thought I had blown the whole thing by revealing so much about my life and thoughts.  However, when he finally spoke, what he said made me deliriously happy. “Well, Liam, what I suggest is that we finish of our meal and then go back to my place, where we can discuss what the future might hold for the pair of us, besotted by sex as we both apparently are.”

I can tell you that it was a very happy Liam Doyle, which Brett Foxx led back to the Bacchus Bar, above which he apparently lived. We went up the same staircase as before, but this time, instead of going into the bedroom, where we had had sex, we entered what was obviously an apartment.

Seeing my obvious curiosity, Brett explained: “My elder brother who is also gay – I guess it must run in the family – and the gay guy he lives with, jointly own the Bacchus Bar and keep the bedroom where we had sex, together with several other bedrooms ready, for precisely the purpose for which we used it. Most of the customers of the bar are stinking rich, which, as you have experienced for yourself, charges the sort of prices designed to discourage the hoi-polloi. The Bacchus caters only for the rich and has become one of the city’s best known pick-up places for the wealthy type of visiting businessman looking for a quick gay fuck.”

“Now as a gay escort yourself, I don’t have to tell you that there is a brisk demand for anal sex among gay, and I might add, more curious, straight businessmen than you might think.  The Bacchus Bar, which has a group of attractively presentable, top-quality rent-boys always to hand, provides a useful and much sought-after service to lonely, rich businessmen who are in search of a gay-sex and are willing to pay for it”

“For the convenience of visiting businessmen, one of the bar’s key group of clients, who need somewhere anonymous to conduct their one-night-stands, the bar keeps the bedrooms with clean bed-linen, for which it charges a stiff usage fee, of course.  However, in addition to the bedrooms, there are two complete apartments. I live in the one, in which we are at present; my brother and his partner live in the other. So, as the saying goes, welcome to my humble home.”  

“I should tell you that other than the fact that I live here, I have nothing whatsoever to do with the bar, which is wholly owned by my brother and his partner. I work as a para-legal assistant, a sort of nerd gofor if you like, in a law office located in the Loop, where, like me, over half the male staff is gay, so I get lots of opportunity for casual sex.”

“I have also to tell that it is only rarely that I ever go into the Bacchus Bar. I had not set foot in there for over month and it was the first time you had ever entered the bar yourself. Well, I am not at all superstitious, but I think perhaps, as you have just said, we were fated to meet. I can tell you that I feel the same way about you, as you have just told me you feel about me. We are both, I am as sure as ever one is sure of anything, predestined by fate to be, in some way together.”

CHAPTER 37.

On hearing his words, my heart jumped joy that I had finally found someone with whom I had immediately fallen in love and who had just told me that he thought we were made for each other. It was clear from the way we had gone hammer and tongs exploring each other’s bodies immediately after we had met that we were sexually attracted to each other. But although I had revelled in the immediacy of the profoundly intense and exhaustive sex we had had together, I was still unsure about the feelings towards me of the man, whom I had personally already mentally instantaneously espoused as my dream partner for life.

 I recalled many one-night-stands in which I had been involved, which had been very steamy affairs whilst they lasted. Total immersion, unique occasions was how I retrospectively thought of them, in which the uncontrollable mutual carnal lust, on both sides for the other, was vigorously and exhaustively satisfied, but never repeated.  They had been just that: one-night-stands, in which two young studs had willingly slaked their mutual sexual thirst, as soon as they had first met, with an unknown partner, whom they would never see again.

You will thus surely appreciate my concern that, in spite of my own certainty that the man I had just met and with whom I had had the most intense sex imaginable: the man of my dreams, might himself have seen our liaison as just another one-night-stand. After all, we had fallen upon each other’s bodies without any mutual understanding of our immediate circumstances. For me it had been love at first sight followed immediately by instantaneous physical attraction. However, many times, during the past year, it had been pure, mutual, carnal lust which had led to the numerous one-night-stands I had had with guys, whom I had just met, in my search for, but never finding – until now – my illusive dream partner. How, did I know that Brett had not had sex with me, like so many men in the past, including myself, purely to satisfy his own, immediate, pressing, sexual desires?

You will, therefore, understand the feeling of extreme relief which coursed through my body, when I heard Brett utter those magic words that he was sure that we were predestined for each other. My never-ending odyssey appeared to be over. I had found the love of my life.

We stood for a few moments looking at each other after Brett’s declaration, which had radically changed the way we saw each other. Then, after what is sometimes, referred to as a pregnant pause, we suddenly, as if of one mind, approached each other and fell into a tight embrace. We figuratively did all but eat each other, smothering each other’s face in vigorous, deep, hungry kisses. Between our two bodies, which were so tightly held together as if they were one, I felt the inevitable rise of both our cocks, in anticipation for the inevitable union of two guys, who had just fallen in love with each other.

 A brief hour ago, our first union had been for both of us, a non-stop act, in which we gave free rein to our then pressing, quasi-unstoppable carnal desire to fuck each other. As I have already explained, so vigorously forceful was Brett’s technique that I had had no option but to go along with it. For my, sins I had – momentarily, or so I tried to convince myself – abandoned my hallowed principles of the mutuality of the sex act. But I admit that I had enjoyed every second of being hard-fucked by this gorgeous young stud, whom I had just met.  There was no doubt in my mind that Brett, by whom I was totally captivated, was other than a stud, par excellence.

But this time, I divined from Brett’s demeanour that things would be different. I sensed that that urgent need to fuck each other, come what may, had gone, as Brett whispered lovingly into my ear: “Liam, I desperately want to feel your bare skin against mine: let me have the pleasure of undressing you and taking you to bed with me.” His approach really was that of a scenario which better fitted the seduction of a young woman by her potential lover, than that two, practising gays who had just met and who wanted desperately to fuck each other, as we both undoubtedly did.

I allowed Brett to take strip off my clothing and then did the same for him, as it which seemed the appropriate thing to do. We then stood, as we had a few hours earlier, admiring each other’s credentials, with those reliable pressure gauges of sexual arousal between our legs, already rock-hard, indicating their desire and readiness for sex. Brett admiringly looked me over, his eyes focussed on my massive boner of a fuck-stick, as if he had never before seen me naked.

He said: “Liam, in the unlikely event that no one has ever told you what a superb stud you are, let me rectify that omission right away. You must surely know that you have a body and cock, which together put most other guys into the shade and would make them green with envy. Just looking at you would make any red-blooded, active gay like me, salivate with anticipation of the potential pleasure to come. You, Liam, are without question, one of the most beautiful and sexually desirable guys on the planet; I am, myself living proof of the fact that you can have any man, or for that matter – God forbid – woman, you wanted, you just by looking at them; as you did with me.”

Praise is, of course, always welcome; but coming for the lips of someone as stunningly attractive and sexually well-equipped as Brett, especially in view of my own instantaneous attraction towards him, was doubly gratifying. I was convinced that his remarks about me were sincere and not conditioned by what might best be called the beauty in the eyes of the beholder syndrome. I felt slightly embarrassed at receiving twice within a few hours such fulsome praise from Brett, who frankly, was visually quite a hunk himself; not to mention his prowess in action. So I said to him jokingly: “Just look who is calling the kettle black,” which implied of course, exactly the opposite of his complementary remarks.

Taking up, the repartee with obvious relish, he said laughingly “Get into the bedroom, you sarcastic, little bugger, (the exact legal word for what we both, in fact, were) and I will show you who’s boss around here. If ever a guy needed teaching a lesson in politeness, it’s you right now, Liam Doyle, you miserable little wretch. You should thank your lucky stars that I am around and both able and willing, and in the mood to teach you the error of your ways. Now, before I lose my temper completely, get into the bedroom immediately and lie down on the bed.”

At that moment, never did a lamb more readily than I, give itself more willingly to the slaughter. I strode, stark naked into the bedroom and laid myself down on the bed and waited for Brett to make the next move.

It was not long in coming, as he followed me directly into the bedroom, extracted two Trojan King Size condoms from the bedside cabinet, one of which he rolled onto his own boner. Then, to my surprise he knelt on the bed and said:  “Liam, each time I have sex with someone, I ask myself why sex has to be so very messy; each time I tell myself that the sticky mess, which we guys create in fucking each other, is the cross we have to bear for what is, for gay men like us, one of the most enjoyable, if not the most enjoyable, pastime in the world. So I suggest we both use a condom to contain our emissions and keep the mess, we will inevitably make, down to a dull roar. We are both going to have to sleep in this bed after we are through with sex for tonight and it will be more comfortable if we sleep between dry sheets.”

So, there I had my tacit invitation to stay the night and share his bed. I could not have been more pleased. Brett then fulfilled his spoken desire to have my skin, as he had put it. He lay down alongside me; then starting with my mouth, which he fucked with his tongue, while devouring it with his brutal kisses. He then gently descended, covering what seemed like every square inch of my torso with his lips. By the time he arrived at his obvious goal, my cock, which, in spite of its considerable length and girth, he somehow managed, by some miraculous feat of prestidigitation, to take almost entirely into his mouth, I was practically in seventh heaven, as he proceeded to suck it almost, but not quite, to a climax.

My throbbing penis was robbed of the ultimate pleasure of being sucked to orgasm, as Brett suddenly disengaged his mouth and reached for the second Trojan which he had left on the bedside table. Then, to my utter surprise, he proceeded to roll the rubber onto my cock for me. It was not that I was surprised at being asked to use a condom, which was everyday grist for my mill; but to have my partner roll it onto my cock with his own hands was an absolute first for me.

Just think about it; in gay-sex, partners share their cocks with each other and the one often takes the other’s cock in his mouth; and in extreme cases, one may occasionally lend a helping hand and masturbate his partner’s cock. But this was the first time that my cock had been subjected to what amounts to TLC by my partner; it was just a strange, not unpleasant, but somehow a somewhat unnerving and totally unexpected experience.

However, as I now found, Brett had been serious about wanting to feel my bare skin against his. Far from penetrating me or offering to let me penetrate him, he lay down facing me and more or less subsumed his body into mine. Lying face to face against Brett, with our rubber-clad boners held firmly vertical between our two bellies, it was as if from the tip of our toes to our lips, we were united in an inextricable  passion, the like of which I had never before experienced; our two bodies seemed to have melted into one another. I know this might sound corny coming from such an inveterate, diehard, cocksman such as me, to whom gay-sex is an essential and indispensable part of his daily life, but united only superficially as we were, the waves of love surging through my body, which emanated from Brett’s actions, were, I can assure you, very real.

We may have remained glued together, as it were, at least for fifteen minutes, enjoying, as new lovers do, just kissing and running our hands along each other’s skin. But then, as it ever does, the imperative urge for sex, which can neither be ignored nor gainsaid, intervened.  Brett very gently disengaged himself from me, rolled me over and penetrated me from the rear. Still maintaining body contact, but now by lying on my back, he first made true love to me, by fucking me with long, languorous strokes of his magnificent penis.

But then as his passion was aroused, he became rougher and hammered my ass until he had taken himself to the very edge of orgasm, when, with that final massive coup de grace, he drove himself for the last time deep inside me, discharging his generous load, not, , into my innermost depths, to my regret but into the condom he was wearing. I know that in retrospect one tends to build exaggeratedly on past events, but for me, head over heels in love with the man who had just fucked me, this was my greatest sexual experience ever, even though he left me still far from my own orgasm.

But we were both on such euphoric highs that I doubted if Brett was even aware that he had left his partner sexually high and dry, but, in a way, highly satisfied with what he had just experienced, but still wanting more. What was certain was that Brett was totally unaware of the fact that had he continued long enough battering me with his cock, after his own orgasm, he might have succeeded in taking me to my own climax. But I saw that I had possibly judged Brett too harshly, as he now showed himself to be not totally unaware of the needs of his partner.

 After a post-coital rest in which he left this cock deep inside of me, he suddenly withdrew himself, pulled the condom, full of his spunk, off from his cock and rolled a fresh Trojan onto his still hard member. He gently rolled me over onto my back before lying down and said: “Liam, it’s your turn now; please give my ass absolute hell with your truly amazing fuck-stick.”

I was only too delighted to be given my turn as active partner. However, far from giving Brett’s ass absolute hell, as he put it, I decided to endeavour to transmit with my cock the true love I felt for this guy, whom I had met only a few hours previously. I decided, therefore, to revert to my basic philosophy of the mutuality of the sex act. Consequently, I gently penetrated Brett in the face-to-face position, as I wanted our lips to unite again while I was making what I considered to be true love to him.

Thus, consciously I set myself the task of taking both of us again to the sublime heights of that holy grail of gay copulation: the simultaneous orgasm of both partners. This fuck was to become my way to show myself worthy to Brett of all the praise that he had been heaped on me, telling me that I was exceptional, including.

I first ensured that we were both in comfortable position, with my ten inch boner completely embedded in him. I then commenced the action of what promised to be a long haul to the Olympian heights of the most intense sexual pleasure known to man. I began with long slow strokes of almost the full length of my cock. Brett, who was a seasoned bottom, responded by flexing his anal muscles on each of my thrusts, thereby intensifying the pleasure for both of us. I would emphasise again that I consider fucking to be a joint act, in which the bottom plays as important a role as the top. Inevitably, as time passed we both became increasingly sexually aroused and so I found myself automatically increasing both the force and speed of my thrusts.

It is much easier for the active partner to achieve orgasm for himself than to induce it in his partner’s. This stems from the fact that the anal homosexual act of sex, is totally physically un-programmed by nature, which did not foresee that members of the same sex could be so attracted to each other that they could not stop themselves having physical relations. Fortunately, in the case of male homosexuality, both parties have the essential physical equipment; a penis, to copulate with each other, and a rectum, to serve as a surrogate vagina, but which is not intended nature to be penetrated anything at all, least of all another man’s penis.

However, this make-do-and-mend surrogate role of the rectum, which, when well lubricated, provides a means as efficient as the female vagina of allowing the invading cock to reach orgasm. This fact, although self-evident, judging from the majority of porn videos, appears to have escaped most men, who indulge in what should be a mutual sex act, only to end up apart, each jerking himself off to completion.

What the rectum does not have is the inbuilt capacity of the female vagina to provide its owner with the orgasm, which the both participants, whether male-female or male-male, crave from any sex act.  This is not to say that in male-male relationships, like the one in which I was now engaged, the top cannot induce an orgasm in his bottom partner; it just requires greater persistent penis perseverance and application by the top, which, all too often, appears to lacking.

As a matter of pride, I simply had to succeed to take Brett through to orgasm at the same time as myself, to show him that the first time was not a fluke, which, in fact it had been. My task was not made any easier by the fact that Brett and I had been copulating hell for leather, every which-way, for several hours, as we had been in the euphoric state of realising that we were made for one another and could not get enough of each other. 

But now it was different; the initial feeling of excessive euphoria at having found each other had now calmed down to a dull roar; and I had a completely different mission.  I confess that the moment arrived, as I thrust myself back into Brett, that I felt that I could not hold myself back much longer. But then I suddenly sensed that Brett was on the brink of climaxing and, with a final, brutal thrust, I took both of us to the sublime, Olympian heights of orgasm together To say that we both had been copulating on and off for several hours, we each produced unbelievably large quantities of sperm, which was captured, thanks to Brett’s foresight, in the Trojan rubbers we were both wearing.

Post-coitally, Brett deluged me with praise, much of which I had heard from other partners in the past: “Liam, you are without doubt an absolutely incomparable cocksman. Not not only do you have a beautiful body to make love to, but you have an enormous cock, which would make any man weep in envy. Your dick is not only beautiful to look at, but the proof of the pudding is in the eating. I can assure you having tasted your dick, both literally and metaphorically, over the past few hours together that you have just given me finest fuck of my life. I think that your friend Kyle was a fool ever to let you, for I doubt that he has found your like in his new mate.”

Such fulsome praise, was praise indeed, coming from Brett, who was himself was an extremely handsome and attractive, muscular young stud, with a penis, which if not quite as big as mine, most men would find hard to equal and would have been glad to emulate. Not only was he pleasing to the eye, but in the few hours I had known him, I saw that he certainly knew how to deliver the goods.

I made an attempt to try to explain to him that the relationship I had had with Kyle was quite different to the one into which he and I were evidently entertaining entering together.

“Brett, the sort of relationship I enjoyed with Kyle, whom I still consider as my very best friend, was, from the start, totally different from the one into which you and I are apparently drifting.  We knew from start, when we first had sex together that we were never going to be more than sexually intimate, best friends. Over the years, since we first met, we have always been there for each other, until finally a couple of years ago, I moved in with him.”

“However, both of us knew that the moment the first of us found the partner of his dreams, we would have to split up. In the event it was Kyle, who found his dream partner first, in the form of Rob, one of my escort clients, to whom, ironically, I introduce him. And so it was Kyle, who first flew from our comfortable nest, leaving me on my own to continue my search for my life’s partner.”

“Although the relationship between Kyle and me went much further than brotherly love, as we had regular sex together, we were like fledglings in a nest, destined to part company as soon as we had found our wings. Frankly, I have no idea why Kyle and I never fell in love with each other. What is, absolutely sure however, is that we did not. Equally, I have no idea why on first seeing you earlier this evening, I knew instantly that you and I were destined for each other. That, Brett, for better or worse, is the way sexual attraction works.”

“Brett, laying all my cards on the table, I fell for you completely on first sight. In the few hours since we first met, I think it is fair to say that we have exhaustively explored each other’s body and in my view we are sexually very compatible.  Hearing the embarrassingly laudatory remarks you have showered on me concerning my sexual ability, forgive me if I have jumped to the conclusion that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. So could you please put me out of my misery by telling me either that I am mistaken and should get lost; or make me the happiest man in the world, and tell me that I am right?”

Brett looked at me, came and took me once again into his arms, as if to protect me from the non-existent dangers around us. He then kissed me again, this time very gently, and said: “There, Liam, does that answer your question?”

It certainly did and overjoyed, I replied “So where do we go from here?”

To which physically exhausted as we both were, he gave the most sensible response in the world: “To bed!” And to bed we went; not to make further love, but to sleep.

CHAPTER 38.

Next morning, I awoke with a start find the bright winter sun flooding into the bedroom. In bed, at my side, lay the still sleeping figure of Brett. It suddenly hit me that today was Saturday, the day, when for the past year, Max Connolly had come round to my place and spent the night with me, thereby relieving me somewhat of the loneliness I had felt since Kyle had left to live with Rob.  I suddenly felt guilty about Max; for a year, I had used him as a crutch, having been lamed by Kyle’s departure. But, under the changed circumstances, now that I had found Brett, I suddenly saw that I was no longer in need of his comfort.

At that moment, alone, looking at my sleeping lover naked beside me, I felt somewhat, but not quite, as I had when I had found Kyle and Rob in bed together. Kyle and I had long known that one day one of us would find his life’s mate and leave the other, thereby ending forever, our idyllic existence together. But when the moment of rupture had arrived, it had been hard for me to face up to the reality of the situation. 

Although the arrangement between Max and me had been entered into as much as a convenience for him as for me, I could not, in all conscience, suddenly present Max with the unpalatable news that his services were no longer needed. I really liked the guy; he was a highly competent cocksman and I had, for the past year truly enjoyed having sex with him regularly each Saturday night. In a word, we were good together. Therefore. although Max had known from the start that our quid pro quo arrangement was, to say the least, somewhat tenuous, he deserved to be let down gently.

Deep in my thoughts as I was I suddenly realised that Brett had woken up and was looking at me intensely. I said to him laughingly: “Come on lover boy, let’s get this show on the road.” I role over on top of him, lying there alongside me, naked as he was, I took him into my arms and gave him a good-morning kiss on his lips. Our bodies, reacted immediately to my move, as I felt our cocks stiffening between our bellies, readying themselves for action. I pulled myself off Brett, took him by the hand, pulled him to his feet and dragged both of us into the shower.

It was evident, from the moment that Brett had woken up, that we could not keep our hands off each other. But whatever my cock was telling me to do, to which I admit I had no objection in principle, I wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk about our immediate future before we became seriously involved with one another again, in what I knew would become an interminable, steamy session of mutual sex. And so, although I did not stop Brett from shafting me in the shower, I managed to extricate myself from his obvious eagerness to fuck me.

By my slight reticence to his advances, I conveyed to him that what he wanted, which was clearly to take up where we had left off last night – to which I admit, I had no objection, being, as I was head over  heels gone on the guy as I was – was, at the moment somehow inappropriate. But he showed himself as sufficiently sensitive to my mood to have got the subliminal message and contented himself with a few thrust of his cock under the shower in what I had come to think of as a sexual handshake.

It was at breakfast together that we finally got down to talking turkey and each laid our cards on the table. I saw no reason not to fully express what I felt for Brett: “Brett, I need, for my peace of mind, to talk to you seriously. I knew from the first moment that I saw you, yesterday evening, in the Bacchus Bar that we were made for each other. In a flash, without out ever having spoken a word to you, I saw that fate, in which I never really believed until yesterday, had brought us together. You, Brett, are the living incarnation of the man for whom I have been searching for the past few years, but never, until now, having found.”

“The vigour of our coupling yesterday evening convinced me that you felt the same about me as I did about you. But if, after all we have done to each other – and we have already figuratively thrown the Gay Man’s Kama Sutra at each other – I have read you wrongly, then now is the time to say so, before we go any further together. I must just say that my dearest wish is that I hope today you still feel the same about me as I do about you, as you told me yesterday you did.”

“But if you have had afterthoughts, now is the time to call it quits between us: my feelings for you have become so deep that I doubt that I could take being rejected after a trial period together. Your actions in the shower just now, which I sort of rebuffed, would indicate that your feelings towards me have not changed, now that you have slept on them; but if they have, now is the time to say so.”

“Brett, I already have a very active, social sex life with my many friends, in addition to my business activities as a male escort. What I am not looking for is a new friend, with whom I can have occasional sex, however good it might be, to add to a list which is already as long as your arm. What I desperately need is someone, with whom I am sexually compatible, whom I can settle down with and live the sort of intense sexual domestic home life, which I envy Kyle and Rob for having created. Once he had met Rob, it did not take long for Kyle to see that they were right for each other; and so he struck whilst the iron was hot.”

“I know we have just met, but I have been looking so long for the right man, that as soon as I saw you, I knew instinctively, without any doubt at all, that you were the man for me. The question is, are you certain after such a short acquaintance that I am the man for you. I was the one who was doing the looking and found you. The question is: did you want to be found?  You must ask yourself if you want to tie yourself to one man for the rest of your life; or do you want the life you now have: a life, which, in fact, we both have and enjoy, but one which is footloose and fancy free and has no firm, permanent base?”

“Now, I don’t want to give you the idea that if you hitch yourself to me, you will find your wings clipped and have to give up having recreational sex with other guys, In fact, far from it, as I believe wholeheartedly in the saying: variety is the spice of life and I can assure you that I seriously practise what I preach.”

“But over and above the excitement of having a series of new sex partners which I enjoy enormously and would be loath to give up personally, I know that I want someone to whom I can come home in the evening: someone I love deeply: someone who is always there for me and I for him: and finally, someone with whom I can share my love of recreational sex with other guys, in the way that Kyle and I did”.

“Now, however mawkishly sentimental this sounds, it is only since Kyle’s departure that I have realised just how much I appreciated the home life he and I had created together, even though we were never in love in teach other in the way I am now in love with you, which I fervently hope is mutual.”

Brett, who had listened in complete silence to my monologue, then replied: “Liam, if you think after the intense sex we have been through together over the few hours since we first met that I would let you go, you must have totally lost your marbles. Liam, in my eyes at least, you are just the greatest gift to gay-sex since it was first invented. I have never before experienced sex as intense as that we had together last night; and let me tell you I speak as a man with considerable experience. Liam, as countless guys have already told you, I can but confirm that when it comes to sharing your cock or your ass with someone, you are just light years ahead of anyone I have ever had sex with.”

“Liam, as far as I am concerned you are the be all and end all of the partner I have been looking for all my life, whom I have finally found, You, Liam, are the shining light at the end of my long dark tunnel. So I would be crazy to let you go now. You know if you had not fallen in love with me and had not tried to convince me that we were perfect for each other, it would be me, who was now figuratively on my knees, trying to persuade you that we were right for each other.”

“Liam, as we are both of the same mind, after breakfast, I suggest that we confirm physically again that we are right for each other. In a word, Liam, young man, eat up your breakfast and then let’s go back to bed and fuck each other silly, to confirm what we both know is a fact that we belong together and cement our mutual love.”

I cannot tell you how relieved I felt to hear Brett’s unequivocal declaration. If he had turned me down, I have no idea what I would have done to ease the pain of seeing the love of my life slip through my fingers.

We spent the next few hours fucking and sucking each other bareback every which way and then some. Even if we eschewed the rigorous efforts needed to produce my beloved simultaneous orgasm, we did not pull our punches. Thus, by the time we had finished assaulting each other sexually, we were figuratively swimming in a sea of our joint sperm, the product of innumerable orgasms on both sides, which, as we were bare-backing, went everywhere.

Looking back on the occasion, which was only the second day we had had sex together, it was totally different from last night when we had just met. This time we had sex as two lovers, trying to please each other. I imagine that our behaviour was reminiscent of how married couples act on their honeymoon night; we simply could not get enough of each other’s bodies. When, towards noon, we finally stopped it was to answer that other imperative force of nature: hunger.

Over lunch which we ate in hamburger joint within walking distance of the Bacchus Bar, I explained to Brett, the slight awkwardness posed by Max, who posed a small fly in the ointment; but a fly, nevertheless.

“Today, Brett, is Saturday; and as I told you, since Kyle left, my only solace had been spending Saturday night in bed with Max Connolly, the guy who owns Kyle’s old apartment the apartment where I now live and sleep alone, apart from Saturday nights, when Max and I have sex together. Now the original arrangement between Max and me, was purely commercial; we would have sex together each Saturday evening, for which service I could live free in Kyle’s old apartment.”

“It was never agreed that Max would actually sleep with me and stay the entire Saturday night. Well, on thing led to another and Max and I rapidly grew fond of each other; so what began as very much as a you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours affair quickly turned into one where we attached to one another. By the way, Max is a hell of a good fuck both in receiving and giving positions”

“And so, what began as a simple commercial activity on Saturday evenings, quickly turned into regular, full-blown, sexual encounters, which continued long into the night and which, on Sunday morning, we often took up where we had left off the previous evening, the same way as you and I have just done. I am telling you all this, because in view for the mutual feelings Max and I have developed over the past year, during which he has been the one constant thing in my sex life, I cannot just dump him.”

“He is aware that our arrangement would end one day as I made him aware of my desire to settle down permanently with the guy of my dreams in the same way as Kyle had done with Rob Nadolna. But now that the crunch day has finally arrived, I know he will be devastated to break off with me.” 

“For my part, I dread having to tell him that our arrangement has got to come to an end. But as I have grown fond of Max, I cannot just brutally leave him. He deserves and has to be allowed to get used to the idea that things have got to change. So, I am afraid that tonight I shall again be together with Max, when I will attempt to begin the unenviable task of telling him that the status quo as to change.”

“Now, I know how I personally felt about to my potential loss when Kyle told me about hitching up permanently with Rob Nadolna. But the two of them did not abandon me and we still have regular three man sex together, which I might add I hope will become four man team, once I introduce you to them, for they are still my very best friends. In much the same way, I cannot now just abandon Max, who has provided me with comfort during my year of solitude.”

“I thought that possibly next Saturday I might introduce you to Max and that we might try to integrate him into what I hope, in the near future, will be a group of friends, with whom we shall regularly trip the light fantastic of group sex. However, a far as tonight is concerned; it is business as usual with Max”

“I should tell you, Brett, that this episode with Max, from which I now have the unenviable job, of extricating myself, has taught me one lesson. As a male escort purveying sex to my clients, in spite of the extreme intimacy of my physical relations with every client, I have to treat each of them in the same way as a doctor treats his patients. I must never again allow myself to become emotionally involved with any client again.”

“Unlike the doctor patient analogy, speaking for myself as a male escort, I derive a great deal of direct personal physical pleasure in selling the services of my cock to a client, but I although I cannot stop the pleasure I get from fucking a man for profit, I need to divorce my own personal feelings from all such relationships.”

“What this affair with Max has taught me is that business and pleasure must remain separate for a male escort and must never ever be allowed to mix: a quite a difficult balancing act for a male escort who enjoys his work activity as much as he enjoys his leisure. OK, I know the deal with Max was different; but in accepting payment-in-kind in the form of a rent free apartment in turn for having sex once a week with him it was a business deal.”

“But now, a year later, I find we have both come to like each other so much that I find it hard to disengage myself without hurting him.  Brett, Max has provided me with a sexual crutch for a good year and I admit that we have both enjoyed fucking each other; in fact, we still do. So there is no way that I can now just dump him like that; just put yourself in my shoes for a moment and ask yourself if you could drop someone like that”.

In the event, I was making a mountain out of a molehill, as the process of breaking with Max, a highly sympathetic and understanding guy, went swimmingly well. In the same way that I had accepted the break with Kyle, so too Max gracefully accepted the inexplicable power of sexual attraction which had drawn me towards Brett and saw the futility of trying to swim against the tide to retain the status quo. I am happy to report that Max and Brett got along famously, as had Kyle and Rob. The end result was that Max became very much our favourite third man for a three man fuck-fest, which came to feature quite regularly in and my life together with Brett.

CHAPTER 39.

For the next month, Brett and I more or less lived in each other’s pocket; like most couples in love, we could not get enough of one another. After I had done with my second client for the day, I systematically went back to Brett’s apartment above the Bacchus Bar and we had deep, serious sex together. However, for that first month, I still returned to my old apartment and had sex with Max each Saturday evening, subsequent to which we slept together, as we had done for over a year since Kyle had left year.  But from the second week on, once I had introduced Max to Brett, we had three-way sex together each Saturday night in my apartment and we all slept together in my bed.

As as I mentioned earlier, Max accepted gracefully that in Brett I had finally found my partner for life and at the end of that first month each Saturday Max started coming around to Brett’s apartment in much the same way as Rob had previously done with Kyle and me. But there the resemblance ended, as Brett and I had eyes only for each other, but together, we weaned Max away from being a one-partner-at-a-time man, which I discovered he had been for the year he spent with me. I was staggered to find that for over a year, such a well equipped stud as Max, had managed to restrict his sexual activity to a once a week, Saturday night with me.

Max quickly became an integral part of our regular circle of acquaintance, with which we had sex. He was, very much like most of my other friends, other than Paco and Darren, I had met via the CCC. He was essentially a loner, who did not seem to wish to settle down with one guy as an item, as Kyle had done with Rob, and I with Brett. I was relieved by the fact that I Max had not disappeared from my life because of Brett as I had grown extremely fond of the guy; moreover, he was an extremely good sex partner and welcome addition to our wide circle of friends who we regularly had sex.

Of course, I could hardly wait to introduce Brett to my closest friends, Kyle and Rob, who were both overjoyed for me that I had finally managed to find the man of my dreams. I got the impression, from the way Rob enthusiastically welcomed Brett to the fold, that he vaguely felt guilty about the way he had, through his attraction to Kyle, upset our applecart: a happening, which I had accepted with equanimity, having realised my powerlessness to effect any change in the face of the all-powerful sexual attraction between two people.

Our first meeting with Kyle and Rob was at their luxurious apartment. As ever, Rob, of course, wanted me to flog his ass We had not seen each other for about a month and he was suffering from severe withdrawal symptoms as he had not had his ass beaten, to which he was addicted as if it were a drug like heroin, since my last visit, which was before I had met Brett.

So tonight was by way of being a double first for Brett; he would be introduced and, I fervently hoped, integrated into the world of intense sex, which my two best friends and I enjoyed together; but he would also witness for the first time my prowess with the rattan cane, as I beat Rob’s ass. Brett had expressed his incredulity, when I had first told him of the way some of my escort clients enjoyed having their asses caned and paid me to do it. For the first time now, Brett was to witness that I was as proficient with the rattan rod, as I was in using my own rod on him.

As we all knew that we were gathered for an evening of sex, all four of us stripped off our clothes, as I had, in the past, always beaten Rob with both of us stripped stark naked, thereby heightening the undoubted link between sexual arousal and flogging of a man’s naked body; not only to the two principal participants to the act but also to anyone watching; in this case Kyle and Brett.

It seemed a pity to me that there was no one there to record the incredible scene of us four young muscle-studs, standing there, all stark naked;  I, with the cane in my hand, preparing to give Rob’s  ass absolute hell. If anyone doubted the strong spontaneous link between sexual arousal and corporal punishment, he had but to look at our four magnificent cocks, all rigidly erect, all already dripping with precum and all straining for immediate action.

It was a revealing picture, exuding the uncontrollable, voluntary and impulsive Schadenfreude, from which even the strongly disapproving Kyle was unable to divorce himself. I particularly noticed that Kyle’s cock, which I knew so well, was in the uncontrollable grip of sexual arousal and was exuding precum at a rate of knots. It indicated that whilst strongly disapproving of what he was witnessing, he was not able to control his automatic sexual reflexes. Heightened by the prospect of seeing someone suffer severe, corporal punishment, such is the undeniable power that sex exerts on human beings, even those, who like Kyle, would never dream of doing themselves, what they are seeing visited  on  a friend.

The cane I had in my hand had been chosen by Rob himself. It was what the British, those pre-eminent, totally unrivalled arch-flagellators, called a straight handled, senior public-school cane. It was just less than half an inch in diameter, long and flexible, but rigid enough to permit an expert user, in which category, brushing false modesty aside, I include myself, to position his cuts very exactly across the bare buttocks of his victim. Rob was anything but a victim in the present absurd charade, craving, as he did, to have the pleasure of having his ass beaten. In preparation for his punishment, he had already encouragingly bent over the back of a chair, offering his bare, yet unmarked buttocks to the bite of the cane.

By way of encouragement, which I did not need, as I was as keen to beat him as he was to be beaten, he said to me: “Well go ahead, Liam; do your best; give me the standard tariff of twelve strokes; and please, no holding back.”

I mentioned earlier that I had sensed a vague feeling of guilt in Rob at the way he had seduced Kyle away from me; it was of course wishful thinking on my part, as with or without the advent of Rob into our lives, Kyle and I had both long realised that we never had had any long term, permanent future together. But armed with this impression, I allowed my sadistic streak to condition my actions, as I went to town and gave Rob’s ass absolute hell with the cane. When I say absolute hell, allow me to assure you that I was, and still can be for that matter, be very vicious in my application of the cane.

By the time I had given Rob’s ass twelve strictly parallel cuts, running from the small of his back to the top of his legs, I can tell you, without bragging, that the onlookers, Kyle and Brett, had been treated to a virtuoso display of flagellation. Rob, meanwhile was sporting a truly well beaten, blood flecked ass, where I had used such force with the cane as to break the skin in a number of places. Frankly, how Rob could bear the pain, let alone, claim as he did, enjoy what I had just done to him, without making a single sound, beats me: but he maintained that he did!  So mine not to reason why!

But now came the moment of greatest pleasure to me, in claiming what might be described as the carver’s perks, in this case, more precisely described as the purveyor of pain’s perquisites. Since I had been inveigled into using the cane on Rob himself, the very man whose ass, at his express request, I had just thrashed, I had added flagellation to the inventory of services that I offered to my clientele as a male escort.

To my great surprise, there was a continuing brisk demand, often from the most surprising of men, who enjoyed having their asses thrashed prior to the main service which I offered to my clients; that of anal sex. I frankly admit that flogging followed by fucking the ass I had just flogged, soon became my all-time favourite pastimes, indicating yet again, as if any further indication was necessary, the strong synergistic bond between corporal punishment and sex.

I should add that I never touched anyone with the cane in anger; my exercises in the no-so-gentle art of flagellation were always at the request of the recipient and between consenting adults. Not surprisingly as I had just flogged Rob’s ass, I now wanted to claim what I fancifully thought of as my droit de seigneur. My cock was chomping at the bit, in anticipation of its moment of glory and was oozing so much precum, as were we all, as to render unnecessary any lubrication of the hole into which it would shortly be thrust. 

Rob had not moved since his caning and remained patiently bent over the chair, waiting for my cock to penetrate him As soon as he felt the tip of my cock against his anus, he spread his legs to allow me easy access to his most private parts, thereby indicating that he was not only ready, but also eager for the sexual sequel to his beating.

No sooner had I slid my cock into Rob, than I felt my own ass being penetrated in what was to become the norm from now on. As of today, no one was allowed any longer to have sex with either Rob or Kyle on a individual basis; it was, henceforth always with Rob and Kyle, who had truly become an item, as if joined at the hip like Siamese twins. Rob and Kyle were still swingers, but from today on, they always swung as an item. It was Kyle’s cock which I had felt penetrate me, turning, what I had expected to be a two man liaison between Rob and me, into a three-man act.

But it did not end there; Brett, not wishing to be left out of the action, proceeded to shaft Kyle. So there we were, the four of us: I was shafting Rob, Kyle was shafting me, and Brett, bringing up the rear, was shafting Kyle. Poor Rob was left there with his boner figuratively flapping in the breeze, leaking precum in spades. This first, impromptu configuration of four sexually highly experienced, young studs was a great success. We automatically coordinated our thrusting and withdrawal movements, until we all individually, somehow, reached orgasm.

I would have like to have been able to say that our individual climaxes occurred simultaneously; but that was not the case. But one after another, without any manual assistance, we nevertheless got there, which, in itself, was an achievement. For the next two hours, the four of us exhaustively, as much that was humanly possible, for the permutations are endless, performed every conceivable sexual combination of mouth-mouth, mouth-tit, mouth-anus, mouth-cock and, of course, the most important of them all, cock-anus.

As there that there were four of us involved at the same time in every act, coupled with the fact that some of these basic pairs can be, and frequently are, performed simultaneously, I cannot promise you that we exhausted every last permutation of sexual gymnastics, but we did our level best. Certainly, at the close of play, we were all intimately familiar with each other’s bodies.

When Kyle and gone off to live with Rob, I had not been excluded sexually by them; we three had continued to have sex together as before. Without their continued support during the year after Kyle had hitched himself permanently to Rob, I would have gone mad if I had not been able to have sex with them as usual. It was now my most fervent wish to have Brett included in what I potentially saw as a nucleus of four, intimate, faithful  friends, who had sex regularly together, but all of whom still shared the spirit of sexual adventure and the feeling that variety was the spice of life and were still willing to play the field.  I felt after, what I came later to think of as, our first total immersion course, à quatre, in all aspects of gay-sex, had shown Kyle and Rob, that Brett was a worthy addition to our group.

Over the next few weeks, I introduced Brett to quite a number of my close friends I had made at the CCC, with whom I regularly had sex; and he did the same for me with his circle of friends. As were both basically foot-loose, gay swingers, in a world of sexually active homologues, for a few weeks we experienced what can but described other than a total immersion period in gay-sex. We had a glorious time. I was relieved to find that Brett, even though it was already evident to we were intended for each other, was not averse to playing the field.

The saddest event that happened at this time was the demise of the CCC, whose founder and principal motive force, Paco Obregon, to whom I had surrendered my anal virginity, as a schoolboy aged 16, resigned from his post as PE instructor at my old school and moved together with his life’s partner, Darren Joshua, to a new, senior teaching post at an upmarket private, Spanish speaking college in Miami. Without his commitment, drive and guidance, the CCC quickly fell apart, as no one was willing to take over the reins.  Sad though this was, as I considered the CCC as an important factor in my gay-sex education, it did not stop me introducing Brett to many of my friends, whom I had met there.

CHAPTER 40.

It was about one month after I had first met Brett in the Bacchus Bar that I finally moved in with him in the apartment above the bar. It was a wrench for me to leave the scruffy old apartment above the gym. It held so many happy memories for me of the time I spent there with Kyle and for the Saturday nights whose potential solitude, after Kyle’s departure, was broken by the presence the ever faithful Max.

But Brett’s place was much bigger and better furnished and more suitable for us living together as partners. Max, as I said accepted gracefully that I had found Brett and that our year long business arrangement, which had turned into an idyll for both of us, had to come to an end; but he became regular feature of our sex life as a couple. Brett agreed with me that in addition to being a truly nice guy, Max was also a first rate fuck, both coming and going and as such was a welcome friend and sex partner, as would become many of our friends, whom we had each known before we met one another.

In what seemed like no time at all, apart from living together as an item, Brett and I developed a vibrant, regular and varied sex-life with many friends, at the centre of which were, inevitably, Kyle and Rob.

EPILOGUE. 

I have written this account of the most formative and sexually active six years of my life, between the ages of 16 and 22, as if they were happening in real time. In fact this story is set in the past. I am now an old man, in the twilight of my life approaching 85 years of age The the intense sex-life I led during those six years, of my youth,  in fact, took place over 60 years ago. 

Both Kyle and Rob, and Brett and I, had married, in a joint ceremony at City Hall, shortly after same sex marriage become legal in Illinois. My beloved Brett, died suddenly of a heart attack about three years ago, to be followed, a year later, by Kyle’s Rob, after a short illness, leaving Kyle, my life-long best friend, and me alone, as what I suppose must be called widowers.

And so, as I write this, I feel now that my all time, life-long, best and truest friend, Kyle, who is right now lying, still asleep, in bed alongside me, and I were fated to come together again and spend the last years of our lives comforting one another. In old age, Kyle, whom I love more than any man ever loved his brother, but in a different way to the love which I had felt for Brett Foxx, have finally come together again.

THE END