So Ralph and I had a nice, long, leisurely dinner at a place called Torinos, with the best goddamned penne all'arrabbiata ever made in the history of the world. And we had a lovely chat about nothing that meant everything. Crap like where we lived...he had a condo on Fifth Avenue overlooking Central Park; me, you know where. Spots we’d vacationed at...him all over the fucking world; me, nowhere. And even who we’ve fucked...him dropping a few major action stars names, while I did the same...just with with a couple of well-known personalities (to offset Nicholas, since he already knew about him, obviously) but no well-known actors, dammit.
I did work out that he’d been tricked into what happened with Stevie. To get him away from Ben, Vance had said the guy wanted to be raped. So Ralph had taken him that way. In one of Vance’s bedrooms. And only realized after the fact that Stevie had only been expecting a blow job, so had not been a willing participant.
What told me all this? One simple comment. “What I did to that guy...let’s just say, I got fucked over for it. Which is why we backed a second season. But Stevie’s happy with that.”
“Any blackmail by Vance?” I asked, figuring there probably was.
He smiled, and I have to admit I really did like his smile.
“He tried,” Ralph murmured. “Fucking amateur. Ten minute talk with Stevie killed what he thought he had.”
Probably recorded the rape.
Ralph continued with, “But he doesn’t know that, yet. Thinks he’s still on the project. I’m real happy he’s not.”
“How so?”
He looked at me with a gentleness I knew was hiding solid steel. “I got an interesting call, this morning. From a friend. Seems suspicions are growing in the DA’s office about Vance’s business dealings. My people have already started pulling up proof we were very concerned. That we were already looking into it, ourselves.”
“Does Vance know?”
“We’re moving carefully, where he’s concerned.”
“It’s good to be careful,” I said.
That brought his lovely smile back. He caught my meaning and said, “You really are a motherfucker.”
“Father-fucker,” I smiled back.
“I’m not a father.” Then he grabbed my tie and drew me close to continue with, “And I wanna do the fucking, this time.”
I blinked. “Is this how you flirt?”
“Who the fuck’s flirting?”
Oh, fuck, did that send a line of fire straight to my dick. But my ass also twinged, and not in a good way. So I said, “Ralph, that video you saw of me getting fucked? That was one of six guys, three days ago.”
He nodded. “I know. Vance showed me. His way of diminishing you in my eyes. But it had the opposite effect. Because there’s lots of ways to fuck and...”
Before he could continue, I slipped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Which startled him, a little, but which he did not resist. And I gave that kiss everything. Lips. Tongue. Soft biting. Noses rubbing. And he matched me.
Finally I whispered, “Before I’m done you’ll think Adonis, himself, was fucking you with his mouth.”
“Not Priapus?”
That made me blink. “Uh, one, you know about him? Because two, he was an ugly little fuck, so three, what’re you saying?”
“Four, he’s the god of fucking. And just to let you know, I prefer Mentaiko’s rendition of Priapus.”
I almost yelped for joy. “I didn’t know you’re a comics nerd!”
“Graphic novels of the graphic kind." Then he winked at me.
Not fifteen minutes later we were back at his hotel room...in the Beverly Wilshire, of course...and I was pushing him back on this massive king bed in his suite. He laughed and let me run my plays.
I fell on top of him and kissed him, crushing my own dick against his, and let me tell you, there is something supremely erotic about two men in sleek suits making out in a four-thousand dollar a night room overlooking the west side of LA.
He wouldn’t let me hold his hands. They had to roam free over my shoulders and under my suit jacket and along my back down to grope my ass. So I kept my hands caressing his face and ears and mingling my fingers in his hair...and fuck, he was so fucking fine.
And it was obvious he was also fucking ready to go.
Still kissing him, I maneuvered my hands down to his chest to unbutton his shirt under his tie, revealing his elegant pecs. Then I flicked his nips a couple of times, no pinching, making him squirm even harder against me. After a moment, I slipped down to his pants to unbuckle his belt. I didn’t take it off, just undid his pants and scooted them down his hips to reveal a sexy pair of Euro-briefs in bright colors...barely holding his raging dick in check.
I kissed along the hair on his chest and down his belly to his pubes, also licking and biting at it, then used my teeth to reveal his...oh, fuck it, this was so wanton I’m actually going to go all ripped-bodice romance and call it his manhood. Because it fucking was. I didn’t remember him being this big, but the last time I had him he’d been face down so it was not a proper comparison.
But I was glad we were waiting till I healed before there was any butt-fucking.
Jesus, there is nothing so beautiful as a good-looking erection on a good-looking man. The shape of it. Shaft thick and round. Helmet lovely. Veins where there should be veins, pulsing with need. Rich, round balls that promised I’d be glad we skipped dessert so I’d have room for what they had to offer. I’d forgotten how much I’d loved it the first time I had him, and promised to myself I would make him scream with pleasure, this time around.
I got to work worshiping his now hard as a rock dick. I kissed and licked and caressed and fondled and stroked and sucked and rolled those balls and nuzzled his pubes in ways that made his ass clench him tight in ways that shoved his dick deeper into my mouth...though not deep enough to trigger my gag reflex.
Finally, after I had trailed my lips up and down his shaft and sucked in his helmet, for the dozenth time, he put his hands on my head and pushed himself deep into my throat.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Then back and repeat...over...and over...and over...
Almost choking me but, again, not quite. I’m good at this, damn fucking good, and I was making goddamned sure he felt like he was fucking my mouth the way I was rolling my tongue around him.
I kept working him that way and had my fingers toying with is balls and his pubes and he began to grunt and groan and whimper...and then he tried to pull me off him but I would not let go. Now I was fucking my mouth onto him, hard and mean and steady and vicious and loving the groans coming from him as I worked him and worked him and worked him until...
Until...
Until he fired.
Flooded my throat with his cum.
I didn’t choke. I refused to let myself choke. I swallowed and let loose of him as he shot another stream into my face. Got some on my suit and shirt and tie and in my hair as he fired, again, then more came out and fell onto his pants and belly and it was fucking glorious.
It took him nearly a minute to calm down, his breath hard and fast. His dick remained erect, lying back on his lovely belly.
When finally he looked at me, it was with more than a little wariness. “Fuck, Rett...”
“Told you,” I said, licking the last of his cum off my face.
He chuckled. “Hope you don’t...don’t think I’m doing...doing that to you...now.”
“Naw,” I said, even though I had sort of hoped for some quid pro quo. “I owed you. And that’s maybe...half payment? How long before you want the next installment?”
He laughed and dragged me up to kiss him, smearing more of his cum on my shirt and pants.
“You slut,” he muttered.
“No fucking shit,” I responded.
“Next bit? You feel like a shower?”
“You and me, naked? Maybe dropping some soap?"
He gave his amazing grin, again. “Promise I won’t fuck you...yet. Just...just a repeat of what you just did?”
“Already?”
He winked at me.
“Do I t least get to wash your back? And legs? And ass? And tits?”
“Nothing more.”
I sat up, straddled his hips and undid his tie. He rose to a sitting position so I could slip his suit jacket off his shoulders, followed by his shirt, and play with his nips.
He ground his groin up against my ass to let me know he was already ready. And I licked my lips and teeth and...
And we had a nice, long, lovely shower, with a dozen nozzles shooting water at us in a four-by-ten cubicle. And after my soapy worship of his body, I knelt before him and brought him to nirvana, again. This time gripping the cheeks of his ass to hold him in place as I showed I knew what he meant by there being more than one way to fuck.
And this time he did scream.
When I left, just before eleven, he was lying back in his bed, naked, uncovered, just looking at me. The picture he made, like some wanton male concubine, I couldn’t help but say, “Come home with me.”
He sat up, semi-crossing his legs, looking even sexier.
“Tomorrow,” he replied. “I need to be here, in the morning. But later?”
I nodded. “Lunch? About one?”
“You cook? Don’t remember that.”
“You’ll be surprised.”
So he smiled and nodded. “It’s a date.”
And I made it home before the proverbial midnight to settle Ben’s concern. He noticed the cum on my suit and how mellow I was being and nodded. I noticed Liam was staying the night. And I thought, Good.
Ralph arrived closer to two, the next day. Did not recognize Ben...or else, decided not to. And they seemed to do okay. I heated the last of the leftovers from the party and the four of us had a lovely feast...
And now every time Ralph’s in LA, he stays at my place. And I’ve been out to NY to visit him. And it’s looking surprisingly steady.
So Vance’s actions turned into a form of matchmaking.
Even better? His machinations became something of a major citywide story. The Feds swooped in on him a couple weeks after I dropped my hint to the ADA, and several of his clients were caught in the snare, all swearing they’d just trusted him to do right by them. They testified against him and everything, so just had fines and back-taxes to pay...which is actually a positive mark to have in the industry. Everybody fucks with the tax boys, here...even me.
And it didn’t hurt that Ralph’s lawyers ran interference for them.
Nicholas was the biggest name out of them all. Lots of tabloid shit about him. And thanks to my video being released, a number of modeling jobs were withdrawn as American business went all Puritanical, again. But that little fuck landed on his feet. In a penthouse. In Manhattan. With a four-square view of the whole fucking city.
Of course, I don’t know whose it was...but I know Ralph facilitated it. Which he rather deliberately dropped a hint about when he was visiting, last time.
I didn’t care on way or the other, now. I’d already taken Nicky, and he’d fucked me over, in response, so my feeling was let him be some old man’s boy toy till his looks run out. Then let him go work at Walmart. That’s all he’s worth.
Vance wound up in Leavenworth for three years, but got out in eighteen months and then just disappeared. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ralph’s associates took care of that, too.
I’ve had two more scripts put into production, which makes me something of a player. I’ll never be a director, thanks to Vance releasing that video of me being raped. He really thought it would crush me, and did kill any interest by anyone for me fronting a film. But since all the media wants to talk to is actors and directors, maybe producers, I’m safe enough from being asked about that. When someone does, I shut them up with the usual, “Yeah, I did it. Wanted to see what it’s like. It was okay and the money was nice, but it’s not for me. I like my men in my bed, being mutually beneficial.”
Which is where Ralph is, now. He’s asked me to join him in NYC. My thought? Why not?
Ben and Liam have grown to like him, well enough. But they want to stay in Venice and work with Steve on designs not only for skateboards but surfer gear and t-shirts and other products to sell online. They’ll also be featured in Stevie’s next series, so I’m let them keep living in the condo.
Together.
Like a couple.
Which they never officially said they were, but...
But it's fine with me. I got my man. Who could ask for anything more?
Well...except maybe inviting Dave, for some fun, sometime. Ralph liked what he had to offer. So, Dave, if you’re up for a nice little trip to NYC...expenses paid with a few days in a lovely condo overlooking Central Park, high-end dining, maybe even some new clothes...let me know.
As for Eddie...you’re on my list of things to do before the end of the year. A little vengeance of my own, and I always finish what’s on my list. So I’m looking forward to a lot of fun.
My hope is, it won’t be easy to take you...but will be a lot of fun.
Whether you want it to be or not...
THE END
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.