Rob wasn’t gasping at the effect of the cock ring anymore, but he was showing how much pleasure it was giving him still when Luther played it on his prostate, by grasping the brass rails of the headboard overhead to which his wrists were bound and pulling his feet away from the baseboard to which his ankles were bound enough to dig his heels into the bedspread and raise his pelvis to the perfect angle for Luther to drag the cock ring across the prostate again and again and again.
Rob threw his head back and mouthed a silent scream of ecstasy as he shot his load. It was a weak spurt this time, but it had been the third time. Each prolonged visit of the cock ring to the prostate had caused him to ejaculate. His balls ached from the frequent demands on them, but each time he had been aroused to glorious heights.
Luther sank his cock deep again. “Bouncy, Bouncy, Squeak, Squeak,” he chortled as he made the bed springs sing for him in his hard, deep pounding. Then he too was throwing his head back and yowling, ejaculated, and collapsed on top of the older man.
“Like my new dickhead?” He whispered, as he embraced Rob closely in the dark room.
“Oh, god, yes, I like it just fine.”
“I promised you’d be the first one. And you are. I like it too. I can feel that you really like it. That makes me happy.”
“I’m glad I’m the first. It’s a great gift, Luther.”
“You paid for it.”
“And it’s worth every penny. I’ll come any time you call me, Luther. I’m lost to you. I’m leaving my cell phone number and anytime you want me, just . . . Oh, holy shit!”
Luther had drawn the cock out to just inside Rob’s entrance again and was dragging the cock ring across his prostate for a fourth time. Rob dug in his heels and raised his pelvis to give Luther the perfect angle. And he cried out in ecstasy as the metal ring dragged across his prostate again and again and again, sending him into orbit. His pelvis shuddered and his cock fired off--blanks this time, as there was no more cum inside him. But beyond the dull ache in his balls, he still saw and felt the fireworks.
* * * *
It had gone well with Rob. Very well. Luther couldn’t wait to try it with Keith. After lunch he walked as fast as he could to the Cape May beach.
“It’s Keith’s day off. He’s probably at home,” Luther was told.
Luther knew where Keith lived--in a converted garage behind a bungalow on Fow Avenue, out toward the marshes on the town’s west end. He walked over there from the beach. He hadn’t seen Keith since before he got his cock ring. They always wanted to fuck when they saw each other, and Luther didn’t want to have the tension between them if he couldn’t fuck. But he knew that would just make it better for both of them when Luther had his new cock ring and could use it.
He slowed his pace as he turned off Grant onto Fow. There was a fancy car parked up there near Keith’s place. Luther didn’t know what it was until he got close enough to read the writing on the car, but he really knew it was a Jaguar before he got there. He walked slowly down the bungalow’s driveway, and, not wanting to embarrass himself, he went around to the side of the small building and looked in the window before knocking at the door.
Keith was inside, in an upholstered chair--but not in the chair the way a normal person would sit. He was reversed, with his shoulders on the front edge and his head and arms arched back toward the floor. His legs were raised and spread above the back of the chair. The older, rich-looking guy Keith had introduced as Ham from Charleston, South Carolina, was standing on a stool behind the chair, holding Keith’s legs spread with his hands gripping Keith’s ankles, and fucking down into Keith with a long, long thin cock.
Luther’s hand involuntarily went down to his own basket. He was a lot thicker, but he might not be much longer than this guy. Each time the cock went in all the way, the man took the root between two fingers and revolved it in Keith’s hole. Luther could hear the cries of Keith’s ecstasy and passion through the window. Luther well knew what sounds Keith made when he was being well fucked. He watched with added disappointment when he saw Ham’s cock come all of the way out of Keith’s hole. He had a big cock ring in the head--just like Luther now had.
Luther’s wouldn’t be anything new for Keith.
Luther couldn’t take his eyes away from the tableau. Keith was in a position Luther had never seen--or even imagined--before. He wanted to fuck Keith that way too. He was struck by what a small, light figure Keith was, although well-muscled in his compact package, when the old man leaned down and pulled Keith out of the chair, gathered him in his arms, and walked him over to a bed. He laid Keith down on his back, with one leg descending to the floor and the other one running up the tall, thin man’s chest. Ham fucked Keith in long, long slides while Keith arched his back and moaned. He then turned Keith onto his belly, rotating him on the buried cock, and continued fucking him from behind.
Then Ham had his cock half way out, taking slow slides, and Luther could tell that he was punishing Keith’s prostate with the cock ring. He could tell that because Keith was making the same ultimate-pleasure sounds that Rob had made for Luther when Luther was practicing on Rob the gift he had wanted to give Keith himself. Luther had wanted to be the first to give this gift to Keith because it had been Keith’s idea that he get a cock ring. Keith raised his pelvis to give Ham just the right angle on his prostate and then, with Ham holding his waist firmly in his hands, Keith was writhing and crying out--and ejaculating up onto Ham’s belly. Ham kept on fucking; not bad stamina for a man that old, Luther thought, not wanting to admire him but unable to be unfair about it.
When Luther had finally had enough and turned away, the last vision he had was of Keith’s weight supported on his shoulders on the carpet at the base of the foot of the bed. His back was rising up the bed and his legs were spread wide. Ham was holding them there and fucking down into Keith’s channel, again in those long, long slides.
Boy did Luther want Keith to let him fuck him in those positions. And he wanted Keith to cry out for him the way he was crying out for that old dude, Ham.
But this wasn’t a day for Luther to be visiting Keith, he decided. And now he didn’t wonder what Keith had been doing while waiting for Luther’s cock to heal from having the cock ring piercing Keith had suggested.
Despondent and confused about whether Keith was still his special friend, Luther walked back up the driveway and down Fow Avenue. As he walked, a guy passed him on a bike. He stopped the bike and turned and looked at Luther. He was a sweet little trick, Luther thought. Small and compact, like Keith. But dark and with black curly hair on his head and on his chest and arms, unlike Keith’s light blond hair. He was wearing just a Speedo and tennis shoes--probably being on his way to the beach. He smiled at Luther, and although Luther felt anything but happy, he couldn’t help smiling back.
Luther wondered if the guy could put his body in interesting positions like Keith did for Ham when he was fucked. The thought made Luther go hard again, although he hadn’t gone completely flaccid yet from watching Keith and Ham doing those contortions.
The young man turned on his bike and peddled away. But he was waiting for Luther at the entrance of a seaside park that led down to the ocean, with a wooden-deck walkway running between a tidal basin on one side and a stand of trees separating the park from the adjacent residential section on the other side.
He stood there, straddling his bike, and smiling as Luther approached.
“Hey, aren’t you Luther Waters?” The young man asked as Luther reached him.
“Yeah sure, I am,” Luther answered.
“I’m a cook at the H&H. My name is Kwame. Charlie told me about you.”
“Yeah. We’re alike, you and me. My dad’s black and my mom’s white. I thought that was a curse, but Charlie told me how it could be a good thing. He told me you’re doing just fine with it.”
“Me? I’m doing fine?”
“Yeah. Is it true that you have a humongous cock and it’s almost black?”
“It’s got a nice cock ring in it too,” Luther said, with pride. “Bigger and thicker than that one in your nipple. But that’s a nice one too.”
“Can I see it?”
“What? Here?” Luther said. But he was already unzipping his shorts.
“No, not here, of course. There are small groves of palm trees in this park.”
Luther fucked Kwame in a sandy-soil depression among a stand of sea oats under palm trees. He, like Kwame, was thrilled that they both had the cocks of black men, although Kwame was more black in other traits than Luther was and the contrast of cock color and skin tone was more pronounced in Luther than in Kwame. Kwame screamed good and egged Luther on in a very arousing way while Luther was entering him. Kwame was on his back, legs spread, and Luther covered him from above. While Kwame became used to having the cock buried deep inside him, Luther played with Kwame’s nipple ring with his mouth. Then Kwame was on his shoulders with his legs stretched up and doing the splits while Luther stood over him between them and fucked sideways down into Kwame’s hole in a position Luther thought Keith would like. Kwame was making noises like Keith had made for Ham, which made Luther happy.
But Luther didn’t stay in that position for very long. He was fascinated by Kwame’s nipple ring and moved back into a position so that he could play with that with his teeth. Kwame mumbled that he didn’t care how Luther fucked him as long as he kept his cock buried and churning.
“Maybe I get me one of these too,” Luther muttered.
Kwame was unable to answer. He was huffing and puffing at the effort to expand his channel to accommodate Luther’s cock. His hands were pressed into Luther’s buttocks.
Then Luther began to pump him in long, deep thrusts.
“Oh sheet! Fuck yes. Giv’t me!”
Luther was interested to learn that Kwame reacted to the cock ring just as Rob did. When Luther brought the head of his cock out near Kwame’s entrance and began dragging it back and forth over Kwame’s prostate, Kwame clutched at Luther’s back, shoulders, or buttocks; dug his heels in the sand; raised his pelvis to give Luther the best angle for the punishment of the prostate; threw his head back and yowled; and shot off a load.
The difference between Rob and Kwame, though, was that Kwame was younger and more virile. He shot a load five times before he begged Luther to stop because his balls ached so badly. And even when Luther did it one more time, and Kwame had collapsed in exhaustion, his cock managed one more weak discharge.
Then and only then did Luther proceed to the short pumps deep, building up to his own ejaculation.
This was what Luther had come to give Keith. It was nice that there was someone he could give it to.
“Do you like being my fuck fuck friend?” Luther asked as they kissed afterward.
“Yes, lots,” Kwame answered.
Luther beamed a smile. One more nice friend for him to play with. And one so much like himself.
“Does Charlie at the H&H fuck you?”
“Yes . . . are you gonna mind that, Luther--when you fuck me?”
“No. I think each one should enjoy whatever they can get.”
That stopped him and made him think of Keith and Ham. Why wasn’t he giving Keith that latitude? Did he think of Keith in a different way from how he thought of anyone else? He’d have to think about that, but now he was thinking again about what Kwame had just said.
“You mean you want to fuck fuck with me again.”
“Of course. You’re the best.”
“Better than Charlie?”
“It’s not even close. Better than anyone. And I want you to fuck me again now.”
Luther laughed a happy laugh and rolled back on top of Kwame. Kwame wrapped his legs around the small of Luther’s back, hooked his ankles, grabbed Luther’s shoulder blades, and groaned deeply as Luther thrust inside him again and began the fuck anew.
“That thing you did on my G spot with the cock ring?” Kwame asked. “Can you do that again? That was some serious shit.”
* * * *
The next afternoon Luther was working at the Pink Poodle and mostly being asked not to meddle with this and that by an agitated Alfred, whose agitation, however was somewhat subdued today. He’d been fucked gloriously with a cock ring the previous evening.
Luther looked up at the hailing of his name and came face to face with Keith.
“Can we talk, Luther?”
“Yeah sure,” Luther said, turning a neutral gaze on Keith. “So, talk.”
“Someplace private maybe? I saw you looking through my window yesterday, Luther. Can we talk someplace private?”
“OK, there’s a furniture storeroom back here.”
“I want to explain, Luther. What you saw yesterday. Ham wants to take me back to Charleston. He’s rich, Luther.”
Luther had him backed up to a table edge. Luther was fisting the edge of the table on either side of him.
“Don’t be mad, Luther. You know me. You went a couple of weeks without being with me. Ham came along at a special time. That’s all. He’s good to me. Look, he bought me this watch.”
“Look at my watch, Keith. Pamela and Jonathan bought me that. It didn’t stop me from fuck fucking you the next day.”
“And he said he could get me transferred to a good design school down in Savannah. He’d pay for it all.”
“Can he fuck fuck like I can?”
“He’s good; he’s very good. And he’s got a cock that--”
“Yes I saw his cock,” Luther growled. “And I saw that he was good--for his age.”
Keith’s answer had been delivered with a toss of his head and an expression of defensive challenge. That inflamed Luther rather than calmed him down. He lifted a surprised Keith onto his butt on the table top, grabbed for the waistband of his shorts, and stripped his shorts and briefs off his legs before Keith could react.
“No, Luther . . . no, please . . . shit . . . fuck. Oh, god!”
“Feel me? You make me hard. We’re special friends. This is what I want. This is what you said you wanted.”
With each sentence he had thrust his cock further up into Keith’s channel. He was embracing Keith’s chest in a choke hold, as if he could not let his friend escape.
“Oh, Luther . . . Oh, Luther . . . Oh Shit!”
Luther had brought his cock head out to where he started dragging it across Keith’s prostate. Keith threw his head back, laid in Luther’s embrace, and let his arms dangle at his side. He dug the heels of his deck loafers into the rung running under the table and lifted his pelvis to give Luther just the right angle for punishing the prostate. He panted and whimpered and, after several minutes gave a jerk and a little cry and ejaculated up Luther’s belly.
“Am I the best?” Luther challenged. “Better than Ham?”
“Yes, you are the best, Luther.”
He managed to sit upright on the table. “But you aren’t forever, Luther. Neither am I. I have to get what I can now. You do too. You need to believe that. I have to go to Charleston with Ham--for as long as he will have me and give me things. I won’t be young and desirable forever. Neither will you. Thank about it.”
Luther paused for a moment and then he said, in a very serious voice, “But I give the best fuck fuck, don’t I?”
“Yes, Luther. You give the very best . . . oh, fuck!”
The cock ring was punishing his prostate again. With a moan and a sigh, Keith laid back in Luther’s arms, dug his heels into the rung under the table, raised his pelvis to the desirable angle, moaned and groaned for a few minutes, and shot another load.
Then he groaned and grunted his way to Luther pumping him hard for his own release.
* * * *
“See, darling. There’s the table you wanted, right there in the fantail. After dinner we’ll give it a spin.”
“Yeah, that’s a fuck fuck table,” Luther said. “The padded top is nice.”
“Let me show you where you can change. The gold sock bikini we bought you, please. And then you sit out here on the fantail and watch us pull out of the harbor. Jonathan is up with the captain. I have a date in the lounge with a martini.”
Luther had known that Pamela and Jonathan were back in the Cape May harbor for several days. He had initially planned to ignore that. But two things worked at his mind and caused him to appear and tell Pamela and Jonathan that he was ready to take that cruise on the ocean to go out and fuck them. Both thoughts came out of his last encounter with Keith. Keith had been so passionate about wanting to grasp the golden ring while he still could. The argument for that wasn’t totally lost on Luther. And Keith had caused Luther to point to the very nice watch Pamela and Jonathan had bought for him. They had bought him clothes too--clothes to go on a cruise. He owed them. He didn’t want to start taking things for free. They wanted to be fucked in payment for their gifts. If all he needed to do was go out on the ocean with them for a day and fuck them, he would give them what they wanted for the nice things they had given him. Hadn’t Jonathan offered him $1,000 for the use of his cock? Surely what they had given him wasn’t worth that much.
Besides, he liked Pamela and Jonathan. They were his friends. They were honest with him. They told him exactly what they wanted. He thought that was sexy. And they were both very good looking.
The yacht hadn’t even cleared sight of the harbor when Pamela, perched on a bar stool at the bar in the lounge, almost spilled her martini. She could hear her husband screaming bloody murder.
She sauntered more than rushed out to the doorway to the fantail. Jonathan was belly down on the fuck fuck table, his arms stretched out wide over his head, clutching at the rim of the table on the other side, and his swimming trunks were down around his ankles.
Luther was standing close behind him, clutching his hips and fucking him in long, deep strokes. He was naked; his gold sock bikini was laying on the deck beside him.
“God, it’s glorious, Pam,” Jonathan sang out. “The cock ring . . . you (pant, pant) . . . wouldn’t believe. And the cock. God. The biggest I’ve ever . . . Oh, FUCK!”
The yacht’s captain appeared down a ladder almost as soon as Pamela had come out onto the deck. He was handsome and burly. Immediately behind him was an equally hunky first mate.
“It’s OK, we’re just playing,” Pamela said in a calm voice. “Go back to the bridge. You’ll both get your turn with whatever floats your boats.”
She rounded on Jonathan and Luther then as the crewmen scampered back up the ladder, her voice harder and with the edge of a pout. “Get out from underneath him immediately, Jonathan. You promised I could have the first fuck.”
She came over and pushed on Luther’s shoulder, and the young man pulled out of Jonathan’s ass and turned to the side, facing her. She looked down his body and whistled.
“Oh, manna from heaven. Is that black beauty real?”
“Yeah sure,” Luther answered, confusing on his face. “That is my dick.”
“Yes, you sweet horse-hung hunk, it certainly is all you. And, good god, look at that toy on the end of it.”
“I’m sorry. He came here and said I looked good in the swim suit but that he wanted to look at me without the swim suit. And then he wanted to hold it. And then he wanted to suck it. And then he wanted me to put it in him. I thought you wanted me to fuck fuck on the ocean.”
“Yes, I most certainly want us to fuck you on the ocean, darling. But I was promised firsties. And we’re not even hardly out of the harbor yet. Here, Jonathan, you get up instantly. You, beautiful. You lay down on the table on your back. Feet on the floor, yes, just like that.”
Pamela was wearing a sheer beach robe over a bikini and high heels. As Luther laid down on his back on the table in cowed response to her barked orders and Jonathan removed himself to the fantail bench, Pamela stripped off her bikini bottoms, climbed up on the table, straddled Luther’s hips, and slowly, ever so slowly, accompanied by a lot of groaning and moaning, descended on Luther’s cock.
“Don’t move a muscle,” she growled. “Just stay hard. I’ll do the driving.”
For several minutes, she rose and fell on Luther’s cock. She crouched over him after some time of riding him with her back perfectly straight and squeezing her own breasts after tossing away her robe and bikini top and bringing the nipples to her own lips for attention. After her first orgasm she crouched over Luther’s chest and stared down into his face with wild and lust-filled eyes. Her hair was brushing against Luther’s chest.
“That tickles,” he complained.
“No talking,” she commanded between pants. “And no coming before I say you can. God, you are huge. And that cock ring . . .”
Jonathan came over behind Pamela and embraced her. His hand covered her breasts, and she turned her head to him for a deep kiss. Luther felt her being pushed forward on his cock and heard her groan, and then he sensed a change within her. He wasn’t the only one inside her. Her husband was in her ass. Luther could feel him through the tissue separating her two channels. Luther wished he was in her ass himself; he liked the ass better. They were tighter. That’s why he liked fucking men better than fucking women, although he did like both. And with a women he could do both. But he couldn’t do it now with Pamela if Jonathan already was in there.
Pamela exploded in another orgasm.
Jonathan started pumping her. Luther felt his own juices starting to rise, and he couldn’t take this laying still anymore. He sat up and wrapped his arms around them both, so that his fingers were digging in Jonathan’s back. He started to pump her too. Pamela was writhing and babbling and grunting and groaning between the two men as they started to coordinate the rhythm of their pumping.
“Kiss me,” Jonathan growled. His chin was on Pamela’s shoulders. Luther did as he was told--when he realized that Jonathan was talking to him, not Pamela. Jonathan’s lips forced his open and Jonathan was sucking his tongue. The men were pumping hard.
“Now! Now! Come for me now,” Pamela screamed as her third orgasm peaked.
And they both did.
Pamela lay on the padded table beside them, still moaning quietly, as, at Jonathan’s request, Luther spread the older man’s legs as he lay on his back and entered his hole with his cock. There, Luther liked that better, although Jonathan wasn’t as tight as most of the men Luther fucked.
Luther pumped Jonathan deep for a few minutes and then brought the cock head out to near the channel opening and dragged the cock ring across the prostate repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Jonathan moaned. He dug his heels into the decking below the low table and raised his pelvis to just the perfect angle for Luther’s work on his prostate. Just a few more minutes of attention to that with the cock ring and Jonathan cried out his release and shot his seed. Holding his ankles out, Luther continued doing it again and again, as Jonathan writhed and raised his pelvis each time the cock ring visited his prostate. Jonathan ejaculated again and again and again until his balls ached and he could produce no more cum. Then and only then did Luther pump him deep to his own release.
Pamela and Jonathan used Luther unmercifully the rest of the day. After drinks on the fantail, Pamela knelt between Luther’s legs and worshipped and sucked his cock.
“Geez, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Please do,” she said, with a laugh.
As soon as Luther recovered, it was Jonathan’s turn. Of the two, Luther decided that Jonathan gave better head. He was more in tune with what turned a man on.
Nap time was Luther fucking Pamela in the good old missionary position in the master cabin.
The difference was that most missionaries didn’t have a huge, black cock, a cock ring, or the endurance of an elephant. Pamela was drifting off to an exhausted sleep after he plowed her to two more orgasms. Thus, she wasn’t aware of Luther leaving the cabin in search of a head to take a piss, when she would have pointed out the cabin’s own master bath behind a wall panel.
While Luther was coming back down the corridor, he decided to take a break and go out on the fantail and actually enjoy the cruise on the ocean. If all he was needed for was fucking, he could have done that with them back in Cape May, on land, he groused. He was beginning to wonder how much fucking paid for what they had given him.
En route to the fantail, though, Luther came across the cabin across the corridor from the master suite. It was a guest cabin--where Luther’s clothes had been put and where he had put on the golden sock bikini. Sort of a waste, he thought--all of the clothes, not just the sock bikini--he hadn’t had a stitch on since he had fucked Jonathan while they were clearing the harbor.
The door to the cabin was open, and he looked in, his attention grabbed by the moaning and hard breathing--not just of one man, but of three. Jonathan and the captain and first mate were repeating what Luther had participated in out on the fuck fuck table before drinks. Except that there was only one hole in Jonathan and the two muscled crew members were both using that one hole--at the same time.
Jonathan seemed to be enjoying it, though, so Luther walked on, wondering if Jonathan could take it if one of the cocks was his. If Luther and another guy did Jonathan, his channel wouldn’t seem so loose. Luther would like that better. If Jonathan asked for it before they returned to shore tomorrow, Luther would try. But he bet that just his one cock was all Jonathan could take--maybe his cock and a few fingers. Luther had seen Ham doing that to Keith, and Keith had liked it. Maybe Jonathan would like it too--and maybe Luther would too.
Dinner was all meaningful looks from Pamela and Jonathan and sexual innuendo and double entendres--most of which went right over Luther’s head, much to the amusement of the jaded pair. They had permitted Luther to dress for dinner, and the two of them were dressed to the nines. The wine flowed, and Luther felt a little tipsy when Pamela took his hand and, Jonathan trailing behind them, led him back to the master cabin.
She made quite a show of undressing Luther, and she used her mouth as much as her hands as she did so. Luther was rock solid hard when she finished, which is just the way she wanted him. Whenever he asked while on the cruise what he might do, she answered that all that was expected of him was to be rock solid hard--and to do what he was told to do. When Luther stuck it in her this time, he pushed in three fingers too and wagged his tool back and forth inside her. She sounded like she liked that a lot, so Luther decided it might be a good thing to try with Jonathan too. She liked it just as well when Luther did the same thing in her ass--and Luther liked that even better.
After dinner was movie time. Not watching them; making them. Luther fucked Pamela in the ass again, standing behind her, as she lay on her belly on the bed and shared her expressions of the taking with the camera that Jonathan held as he stood on the opposite side of the bed. Before Luther ejaculated in her ass, Jonathan came up on the bed on his knees and pointed the camera down to capture Pamela giving him a blow job.
The second act was the same as the first, but with Jonathan belly down on the bed, Luther fucking his ass with the three-finger play added, and Pamela bouncing around the room catching it all on film.
The third act was Jonathan holding the camera and filming Pamela playing with Luther’s monster cock and giving him another blow job.
The three slept together, but Luther’s cock wasn’t put into service until the next morning. Jonathan fucked his own wife to sleep.
Late the next morning, Luther began saying he was bored and was there something he could do to help on the yacht. Yet again, though, Pamela answered that he was only needed for his cock and that his chore on the yacht was to keep that rock hard and available for whatever they asked of him.
In the afternoon, Luther asked when they would be getting back to Cape May.
“We’re not going back to Cape May, darling,” Pamela casually answered. “In a couple of hours we’ll arrive in Newport. You’ll like it there. You’ll have a room of your own, and we’ll give you anything you want. All we want in return is for you to remain rock hard and responsive to our wants.”
“Newport? We were going back to Cape May.”
“No we weren’t, sweetheart. We discussed all of this. Don’t you remember? You agreed to be our fuck toy. We’re taking you home. We’ll visit Cape May again someday.”
Luther opened his mouth to contradict her. He hadn’t agreed to anything like this. They hadn’t talked about it. She was playing him for a dope. But was that true? Had he just not remembered it?
Looking at her amused expression caused him to shut his mouth. Of course he was a dummy. He was just what they were playing him for. It wouldn’t do a bit of good to argue with them. He was out here on the ocean with them. They were in complete control. And now he knew what sort of people they were--rich and spoiled people who always got what they wanted.
Pamela looked over at him, prepared for a fight. But when he didn’t offer one, she shut the magazine she was reading and leaned forward.
“Now, could you masturbate for me and make it big and rock solid again and then I’ll come and sit on it.”
Dutifully, Luther did so. And then Pamela did what she said she was going to do too.
When Luther could see that they were pointed into a harbor, he went back to his cabin. He changed into the clothes he’d worn on board--his own shorts and briefs and a T. And his own sandals. He folded all of the clothes Pamela and Jonathan had given him neatly and put them in a pile on the bed. He took off the watch they had given him and put it on top of the pile of clothes. Then he stood at the picture window in his cabin and watched as they came into the dock. When he felt the side of the yacht hit the dock, he pushed the picture window open, climbed out on the ledge, hopped up on the dock, and started running toward land.
* * * *
“Hello, Rob? This is Luther.”
“Where the hell are you Luther? I came to your room this morning. You said I could. But you weren’t there. I called Tim, and he said you hadn’t come home last night--or the night before that. He’s worried as hell. We all are.”
“I’m in Newport.”
“Newport? Newport, Rhode Island?”
“Yes, I think. It’s whatever Newport you can get to from Cape May in two days on a boat. Rob . . . can you come and get me?”
“Of course I can come and get you. I’ll go gas up the boat right now. Where can I find you in Newport? I know, do you think you can find the Newport Yachting Center Marina? It should be right in the center of the town there.”
“I think that’s where I am now.”
“Good. Be there anytime from tomorrow night to noon the next day. I’m coming to get you. Do you think you can manage until then?”
“Yeah, I think I’m good.”
As he was standing on the dock between the marina and a row of open-air cafés and restaurants on the land side, he saw a good-looking, muscled up, middle-aged man decked out in whites and a yachting cap giving him the eye. Luther knew that look.
“Yeah, I think I can manage just fine,” Luther answered. “And Rob . . .”
“When I get back to Cape May, I don’t think I ever want to leave it again. And I don’t want lots of money and presents. And I don’t want anyone keeping me. I want what I can get on my own. And I want to fuck when I want to fuck.”
Silence on the other end.
“But I want to fuck you Rob. I didn’t mean I didn’t want to fuck you.”
“OK, great,” Rob answered in a somewhat confused voice. “The important thing, though, is to get you home. I want some more use of the cock ring I paid for--when you want to exercise it, of course.”
Luther hung up the pay phone and turned and smiled at the man sitting in the café.
“Thirsty?” the man called out. “I’d be happy to stand you a drink.”
Luther walked over to the table and sat down next to the man, looking out onto the marina rather than across from here.
“You from here?” the man asked after a waiter had brought two beers.
“No. I’m from Cape May, New Jersey. Going back there too.”
“That’s a nice harbor town. You like yachts?”
“Yes, most of the time.”
The man made a sweeping gesture out toward the adjacent dock. “How do you like that one right over there? That’s mine.”
“I like it fine.”
“Would you like to take that out on the ocean for a little cruise with me?”
“Do you want me to fuck you on your boat? Is that what you are asking?”
“What?” the man said in the shock of the directness of being short circuited in what he, indeed, was trying to work his way around to asking.
“If you do, this is what I can put inside you,” Luther continued. He grasped the man’s hand and moved it to his cock beneath the waistbands of his shorts and briefs. “It’s almost black. My fuck friends like that. Do you want to be my fuck friend? And, feel. It’s got a nice, thick cock ring too. It’s new. My friend, Keith, said I should get one, and so I did. My friend, Rob, got it for me. They both told me I’m the best fucker they know. And that’s before I got the ring. If you take me on your boat, I’ll fuck you all night if you want. And I have a new trick. Three fingers in with the cock and I move it around inside you. Pamela and Jonathan both liked that--but I liked it better with Jonathan, because men have tighter holes, although Pamela’s bum was tighter than her other hole. But the boat has to stay right here--and I leave tomorrow.”
“Oh, sweet jesus,” the man exclaimed. Then he raised his free hand and called out in an unsteady voice, “Check please.”
- Fini -