Skippy's Cock Tales

Flashback

Lance Earns His Fees

Lance set his double single malt on the balustrade and looked out over the Venice lagoon. The sun was starting to set and the terrace of the Danieli Hotel was the best place to watch the fabled city dress herself for the night. He tugged at the collar of his formal uniform, the medals and citations glittered on his broad chest.

He’d had a great time as one of the honor guards for the visiting Secretary of State when he met his Italian counterpart earlier in the day. The afternoon was one long meet-and-greet on the terrace with people shmoozing each other up while they watched the annual regatta, the Volga Longa move through the Grand Canal. Gondolas, kayaks, dragon boats, rowing skiffs and seemingly every other imaginable human powered thing afloat made up the colorful procession. A fellow view lent Lance a pair of binoculars to watch the German rowers disembark at La Salute, several showing wood in crotches of their wet unitards. Excited to participate, by the look of them.

“Mi scusi, signore. I wonder if you could provide for me some consultation.”

Lance looked down at the 1,000 euro bank note that was slipped under his drink. Then he looked at the man standing beside him. Nearly as tall as himself, the man was handsome as a fashion add. Square jaw, brown eyes that suggested depth and yearning, silver hair at his temples. The guy was nearly as tall as Lance. For a dude in his forties, he looked fit as shit, the silk of his black suit clutching at round biceps as he leaned in to talk Lance.

“I am Count Ludivico Scarpa, at your service. I couldn’t help noticing you this afternoon as you escorted Sig. Secretary. Your eyes were everywhere. I assume they noticed that many eyes were often on your noteworthy form. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“Colonal…well…Lance. You can call me Lance.” He flashed his best “fuck you, but I’m prime” smile and watched the count’s soften and the full masculine lips ease open. Lance knew how to turn it on and turn it up.

“You see…Lance…I was wondering if you might take the trouble to do a…walk through…I think it is, of my suite of rooms here at the Danieli. They are always ready for me when I come from Milano. To date, there have been no problems, but it has been some time since I’ve had anyone review it for security purposes. I thought the banknote under your glass might possibly be considered a down payment for a bit of your time this evening.

Lance’s gleaming smile settled into a knowing smirk.

“Sure thing, Count, it would be my pleasure!”

Another 1000 euro note slipped under his glass. Lance tossed back the booze and pocketed the cash. He had late tomorrow morning to report back for duty.

“Please follow me, if you will…Lance.” The count led the way to the back of the terrace, into the building and to the elevators. He punched in one of the upper floors. Guests on the terrace, in the corridor, and elevator all followed Lance with great interest. He was that kind of guy.

At the door to his suite, the count punched in his security code, opened the door and held it for Lance, then followed him into the room. As they entered the door clicked behind them just as a young man in a tight Eton jacket scurried up to them.

“Giussepino, this is Signore…Signor Lance. He is my guest this evening. I am hoping he will advise us on the security of our pied a terre. You will see that he is served with everything he might need.”

 “Si, si! Piacere mio!” The twink’s eyes were big as saucers as he fell was caught in Lance’s gaze. The big American did a very slow smile that eventually widened into his trademark grin, then settled into his predatory smirk.

” Signor Lance, this is my valet Pino.”

Another 1,000 note appeared in the count’s hand. He laid it on Pino’s shoulder.

“Perhaps…Lance…you would indulge me by first inspecting my valet to be sure he is hiding nothing that might harm me. Pino, strip for Signore Lance and turn for him. Allow his to see all of you. Show him you have nothing to hide.”

The Italian twink gulped, eyes still locked on Lance’s. He unbuttoned his jacket, slipped it off and tossed it on a nearby chair. He loosened and removed his tie before opening the shirt studs, removing his cuff links and shirt followed by his shoes pants, socks and underwear. He shivered with tension.

The young man was slight, fine featured. Lance couldn’t figure out if he looked like a faun or a fawn. Maybe both. Thin, but with firm muscles everywhere they should be. Ivory skin, brown curls and dark brown eyes. All four of his cheeks were flushed with pink. His nipples stood up as perky little cones and his dick was hooked up toward the ceiling, already throbbing with need.

“Lance, earlier after the welcoming ceremony you and the other guard stood in a marvelous way. What was that?”

“Er…you mean ‘parade rest’ Count? Like this?” Lance looked straight ahead, held one hand in the other behind his back and widened his stance. The bulge in his uniform trousers looked even more formidable than before.  Another bill slipped into Pino’s hand and was immediately put in Lance’s trouser pocket.

“That would be it! Allow me to examine it a bit closer. Pino, sul tappeto!” The valet sank to his knees and looked up at Lance. The count closed in, running his hands over Lance’s chest, around his waist, across his shoulders. He stroked the special ops’ cheek, then walked behind him. He ran his hands down the hard muscles of the big back and grabbed each of the hard globes.

“Mio dio, che cullo!”

The count stood behind Lance and reached around to hold the soldier’s crotch.

“Allow me, Lance.”

Lance grunted as the count unzipped him, reached in and worked out his amazing cock and balls. He glanced down at Pino who was licking his lips.

“You see Lance, I have several medical conditions. The medicines I must take preclude certain…physical actions I one time excelled at. Now, I must rely on my help to stand in for me in most cases, supplying me with some diversion and satisfaction. Speaking of which…Pino! Suchiarlo!!”

The little Italian dude was all about sucking that big thing and doing it now. He swallowed, opened his mouth as wide as it could go and attached himself to Lance’s pulsing meat.

“UUuhhhhnnnn.” Lance kept his stance. Eyes forward, chest up. Several thousand euros spoke to him in the language of cooperation.

The count moved to Lance’s side, reached down and held the big bull balls while Pino fed on dick. The man rolled them, weighed them, teased them in their sack while he stroked the Pino’s cheek.

“Such weighty balls. Magnificent. What great amount of thick white schiuma they must hold. My Pino well down richly and well tonight.” The count shifted around to stand behind the kneeling valet, still holding the American’s balls.

He held up another bill in front of Lance’s face.

“Cum for me, my big handsome American. Fill my faggot’s mouth with your spew. Give him to eat. Make him swallow the flow from your dick.”

Lance got the idea and was much encouraged – by the count’s words, by Pino’s amazingly talented mouth, and by the bank note.

“FFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!”

Lance unloaded, cramming his jam down the eager throat, shooting his sperm bullets deep into the willing gut.

“Excellent! Most excellent, my American friend! I can call you ‘friend” may I not?”

Eyes still straight ahead, Lance caught his breath and barely nodded. “Of course sir. I always like doing business in a friendly way.”

Pino was working to make sure there that no more cum would be coming out of Lance’s dick at the moment, then he held it in both hands, ducked under and licked the big stud’s balls.

“Yes, Lance, my Pino is very thorough. Let me have him help you out of your uniform so that it doesn’t become wrinkled while you continue your consultation.”

The naked kid jumped up and began slowly stripping Lance. The tie, the uniform jacket, the dress shirt, shining shoes, wonderfully aromatic socks, the belt, pants and boxers. He got up and stood beside the count. Both stared at Lance, mouths slightly open, eyes huge. Yeah. Lance looked like that.

“Now please take a look around, Lance, Pino will help you in every way possible. I will retire to the bedroom and will see you again when you have completed your survey.”

Lance did a quick check of the alarm system, tracked where the cameras were, the door locks, the safe behind the painting in the entry, Pino’s bedroom - even two toilets and the galley kitchen and rear exit to the servants’ elevator. Pino was right with him at every step, finding ways to touch the big dude’s body, show his pert little butt to the man. When Lance put one foot on the toilet cover to reach up and check the contents of the overhead flush tank, Pino burrowed between the big man’s butt cheeks, sniffing and slurping like a puppy  in a food dish. Lance’s dick took note, stood up and looked around for where that wonderful feeling was coming from.

“Basta, froccio, basta!” Lance thought that he’d had enough of the little faggot, but apparently his dick hadn’t.

“Signor Lance, all that remains is the bedroom of the count…”

“Va bene, Piccoletto. Andiamo!”

The count was sitting in an ornate Baroque chair, reflected in gilt mirrors on all four walls as well as the ceiling. Lit by shaded sconces, the bedroom seemed part of a world that disappeared half a millennium ago. Count Scarpa had removed his suit coat but kept his slacks and brogues. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow  and is silk tie slightly loosened at his neck. He swirled a flute of prosecco in one hand.

“Signor Lance. I would appreciate it immensely if you would inspect my Pino for possible contraband or weapons. The only place I can imagine he might hid such a thing would be in his…well in his…”

“Pussy, Count? You think your fag in residence might be hiding something in his boy pussy? Guess you’re right. We should be sure we’ve inspected all possible threats.”

Lance grabbed the twink by the back of the neck and marched him to the immense brocade covered bed. He pushed him onto his stomach and kicked his two shapely legs apart. He knelt. He rubbed his hands together. He smacked the soft white butt bubbles one after the other. He kept smacking.

The surprised Pino shouted over and over while the count chuckled quietly.

“He looked like he was starting to resist, Count. I figured I should make sure to subdue him.”

“D’accordo, Lance. I approve completely. My security problems are obviously in good hands. Please continue.”

Lance slapped Pino’s butt until it glowed a warm, happy pink that contrasted with the young man’s sobbing.  He rested his cheek on the hot skin and smiled before thumbing the globes apart and sniffing the kid’s hole. He licked the tight, rosebud twice with his big tongue and then started eating.

“AAAEEEEEEEE!!!” Pino squealed, accompanied by the count’s laughter.

“Wonderful, my big American friend! You are so very thorough. No doubt you will soon finish your inspection.”

Lance stood and brought his angry great dick to the punk’s pussy hole. He cock slapped the knot a couple of times and then spit on the head.

“Allow me to help!”

Expecting a blow job, Lance was surprised when the count arrived to spit on his valet’s hole and then on Lance’s dick.

“Please continue, my little Pino likes it sudden and hard. Fuck him, Lance, fuck him! Forza!”

Lance was so hard and so ready that he hardly needed any encouragement. He held the slim hips with both big hands, slammed his hips forward and porked the twink in one hard stroke.

“AAAAAAAA!!!!” yelled Pino.

“Yes! He likes it very much, Lance, please continue.

Lance looked up t the ceiling mirror, watching as he plugged the twink who dug in with his knees and grabbed the brocade to keep from being fucked across the bed to the wall.

The big special ops stud faltered for a moment as he saw the count reach into the drawer of a bedside table. When he saw the count was holding a riding crop, he relaxed and settled back in to a steady fuck.

“I trust you have found nothing dangerous hidden in my valet Lance.  Please humor me and see if the same thing is still true for his throat. Perhaps if he were to lie on his back with his head hanging over the edge…”

Lance pulled out of Pino’s pussy, picked him up by the waist and turned him on his back before spinning him into position. The young man arched his back, found the big American dick with his lips and climbed its length until it was lodged in his throat. Lance started sawing a couple inches in and out of the sucking maw, totally into the tight hot sex sleeve working his meat.

The count drew near. He reached behind Lance and carefully took the man’s big balls in one hand, massaging them while he fucked.

“Such magnificent palle! So big…so heavy. What magical sborra must they produce. I think it’s time I urge on my little Pino.”

“Smack! Smack! Smacksmacksmacksmack . Smack!” The count flicked the tab of the crop on Pino’s nipples, then his balls, finishing with a strike on his cock head. The boy squealed repeatedly around the big dick, his own cock hardening like a little chunk of rebar. His balls pulled up for protection against the base of his dick.

Scarpa dropped Lance’s balls and sat on the side of the bed, contemplating the big dick face fucking the slender young man. He rested his free hand on Pino’s Adam’s apple.

“Mio dio! I can feel him feeding on your cazzone! How wonderful.” The man scooted toward the head of the bed, grabbed the little dude’s balls with one hand and worked the handle of the crop up into the kid’s defenseless arse.

Lance arched his back a bit, put his hands together behind his waist and ground his dick deep inside Pino’s throat. The count twisted the handle, found  Pino’s prostate and hammered away on it, as the same time flicking the exposed, helpless balls. The boy’s body froze, his muscles turning to rock. His throat clamped down on Lance’s dick like a big wet fist and Lance fired his cum shots straight down the fag’s esophagus.

“FFFUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!” Lance seemed pretty please about it all.

Pino’s shrill keening was muffled by Lance’s dick as his tormented balls puked up their scum. It spurted out and onto his ivory abs making a pool of gooey hot cream. The count twisted the crop handle in the little dude’s butt for several more seconds, while the softening cock oozed out a bit more splooge. The count bent forward and sucked the crotch meat into his mouth, humming with satisfaction.

“My Pino produces the richest, thickest, sweetest cum I have ever tasted, Lance. Would you like to try some?”

“No thanks, Count. I don’t indulge.”

“I see. A pity. Still, there is that much more for me!” He moved his full lips to the twink’s groin and feasted on the prime ball batter.

Later the count feasted again, this time on Lance’s load that he felched out of Pino’s arse, followed by another helping of the twink’s spunk. This time he beat the boy’s knob until it spit angrily into the older man’s mouth. Lance watched, sucking prosecco out of the bottle.

Unfortunately, Lance was unable to spend the night, looking for other possible security breaches, as he had an obligatory debriefing just before midnight.

So he left the count’s suite, leaving behind one exhausted valet and a very satisfied count. He took with him a fat stack of euros that would be the beginning of his investments while finishing his European tour of duty. The count had gotten him to commit to consulting again, and promised to find more such work for Lance among his many titled and well-heeled acquaintances. He also promised Lance a lift to the airport in a motorscafo.

True to his word, the private speed boat pulled up to the water entrance of Lance’s hotel. A grinning Pino hopped out and carried the American’s bags to the boat. The big soldier looked ahead as the boat rocketed through the lagoon. He stood beside and below the pilot, on the steps leading down to the cabin.

It was hard to tell if he was smiling because of the money in his wallet, the memories of Venice, or Pino’s sucking mouth on his hard dick.

Maybe all three.