Ups and Downs

Retribution and Recognition

“Damn, that man is fucking hot!” Ward exclaimed after our dinner with Mr. Block and Woody.

“Which one?” I inquired. “Mr. Block or Woody?”

“Both actually,” he replied, “but Woody is a fucking god. I’ll bet you two have a great time in bed with each other.”

“Oh, we never—”

“What? You’ve never let him stick his dick in your ass? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Company policy,” I answered. “We’re not allowed to fraternize with the bosses.”

“Well, since he’s the manager, I don’t understand why he wouldn’t make an exception in your case. I know he wants to.”

“You don’t know shit,” I reacted. “Woody can have any man he wants…and he often does…just not with us mere mortals. Besides, he barely knows I even exist.”

“Damn, man. Are you really that stupid or are you just fuckin’ blind? I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That stallion is dying to get into your pants.”

“Oh, please.”

“Oh, please yourself. Deny it all you want, but if that stud looked at me the way he looks at you, I’d drop my pants on the spot.”

By the time Ward and I returned to my hotel room, I had shrugged off his speculation and was determined to get my “revenge” for the pounding he had given me before dinner. Once we had quickly stripped off all of our clothes, Ward started fishing through the overnight bag he had brought, expecting to spend the weekend with another model, Dimitri, and Dimitri’s uncle.

“What’s that?” I asked as he pulled something out of the bag. Before he could answer, though, I could see what he held in his hands: two pairs of cuffs. “I was planning to use these on Dimitri,” he boasted, “but now I guess I’ll just have to use them on you.”

“The hell you will,” I retaliated, grabbing him by the arms and throwing him onto the bed as he had done with me earlier. The two of us wrestled for several minutes before I finally got the better of him and captured the cuffs, which I promptly used to tie him down to the bed. (All right, maybe he let me win, but I’m the one telling this story, and I’m sticking with it, OK?)

“You’re mine now,” I taunted him. I began my retribution by licking his forehead and working my way down to his eyelids and the bridge of his nose, across to his left cheek and ear, and then around his jaw and chin to the right cheek and ear. From there I licked my way across his lips, but not penetrating them, and down his neck to his sternum, from which I licked my way across to one arm pit, up and down that arm, and across to the other armpit and arm. I continued my tongue bath to his sternum, from which I drew figure eights around his pecs with my wet tongue, circling closer and closer with each lap to his nipples, which I licked, sucked, and nibbled on. I mopped a trail down to his belly button, which I filled with my saliva before continuing on down to his crotch. As I circled around his family jewels, he begged me to give him some relief.

“Enough, Joe! Enough! My balls hurt so bad, and my dick aches something awful. Have mercy, Joe. Suck me off.”

“Oh, this little ol’ thing,” I taunted, pulling his stiff cock back with one finger and letting it swing back, slapping against his lower abdomen. His entreaties increased with each spring-loaded action, but I was not prepared to show any mercy. I licked from his perineum, between his balls, and up the length of his dick to the tip, which I lapped very lightly, teasingly. When he begged me to swallow his thick cock, I just laughed and continued my tongue bath down one thigh, calf, and ankle to his foot, where I licked and sucked each toe individually before crossing over to the other leg and foot.

Once I had worked my way back up that leg to his crotch, I again licked his perineum from the edge of his love hole to his balls, taking each one into my mouth individually and rolling it around on my tongue. “Mmmm,” I moaned. “Tastes so good.”

“Goddam you, Joe Campbell! Suck it, dammit! Suck my fuckin’ cock NOW!”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands,” I laughed, tweaking his nipples as I ran just the tip of my tongue between his lips. “Well, maybe it’s time,” I conceded, but when I took his dick into my mouth, I moved very slowly up and down the shaft, wetting his cock but not really sucking. I applied no pressure. Wade moaned again but demanded more.

I increased the rate and pressure slowly as Wade practically screamed for me to speed up, giving him the relief he so desperately needed, but when I felt the juices beginning to percolate, I pulled off, denying him the release he craved. I continued this edging through several episodes, torturing him slowly, deliberately.

“Goddam you, motherfucker. When I get out of these chains, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill your goddam ass.” 

To quieten him, I stuck one index finger in his mouth. “Suck it, boy. Suck my finger.” Once that finger was thoroughly wet, I rubbed it against the opening to his Garden of Eden, slowly, methodically, before inserting it slowly and fucking him with that finger. “More?” I asked.

“Yes, please, sir. Please fuck me.”

But before I would do that, I stuck two fingers in his mouth. “Suck, boy. Suck ‘em good.” And once they were thoroughly wet, I inserted them into his wonder hole again, paving the way for what was to come. Finally, I stuck three fingers into his mouth and got them fully wet before I inserted them through his tunnel to his prostate.

“Oh, fuck me, dammit. Fuck me with your dick, not your goddam fingers.”

“My dick? Oh, but you’re all wet, and my dick is so dry. What should we do about that?” And before he could answer, I repositioned myself and stuck my cock into his mouth. “Suck it, dude. Get it all nice and wet for your ass.” For several minutes, I fucked his face hard, bringing him almost to the point of tears.

Once my dick was fully lubed with his saliva and hard as a rock, I loosened the cuffs on his ankles so that I could gain access to his love nest. “Calm down,” I cautioned as he squirmed, ridiculously assuming that he could gain the upper hand. “If you want relief, you’re gonna have to cooperate,” and he relented as I lifted his legs over my shoulders and rubbed the tip of my cock over his fully exposed rose bud before entering him.

“Like that?” I asked.

“Oh, yes, Joe. Fuck me. I want your dick so bad. Fuck the crap out of me.”

“Oh, I intend to,” I assured him before leaning forward to kiss him with my tongue deep in his mouth while also massaging his tunnel gently with my rod.

“Mmm,” he moaned. “Mmm.”

Finally, after torturing him for nearly an hour, I fucked him like a drunken sailor on shore leave, and as I did, I stroked his weary cock. Not surprisingly, he shot his wad pretty quickly, plastering the headboard before shooting a glob into his eye and then more all over his face, chest, and abdomen. I think his prostate was going wild at the same time that his balls and dick were.

Though I had hoped to prolong my drilling as long as possible, his orgasm was enough to incite my own. “I’m comin’, Ward. I’m gonna drown your love button in my hot juices.  Ah…ah…uh…uh…aaahhh…FUCK!” And with that, I shoved my cock balls-deep into his hole as I unloaded stream after stream of spunk into his guts.

His knees went limp as his legs fell helpless against the bed and I fell flat onto his wet body, now wet not only from my saliva but also from his sweat and mine. I remained there for several minutes until we both caught our breath and returned to some semblance of reality.

“I’m gonna take a shower now,” I announced, rising from my triumph and heading for the bathroom.

“What about me?” he asked. “You’re gonna release me now, aren’t you?”

“What for?” I asked. “You got a hot date to get to?”

“Goddam, you, you fucking piece of shit,” he screamed as I strolled slowly to the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Joe! Dammit, Joe. Take these goddam things off of me NOW!”

“Well, you’re the one who brought them,” I heckled.

As he continued to shout obscenities that I had never heard before, I approached him slowly and shut him up with my tongue down his throat. With that distraction, I surreptitiously released the cuffs. I know he wanted to grab me and retaliate with all of his might, but he had very little might left, so I turned off the shower and returned to lie beside him until he felt strong enough to get up and go to the shower, where I lovingly soaped and rubbed his entire body. Both of us slept that night like babies.

In the morning, he promised…threatened…to retaliate, but I reminded him that this was my big day. I had to get to the warehouse early to prep for the auction of my sketches. The auction was not scheduled to begin until 11:00 a.m., but Aaron wanted me there when the doors opened at 10:00 to circulate through the crowd and drum up interest. He had also hired Ward to serve as an “usher,” greeting the customers and warming them up. Sensing what the two of us had been up to, Aaron suggested that Ward tell stories to the customers of our recent sexual exploits, and neither of us had any objections, but, of course, Ward would play up his on conquest and play down my domination of him.

“I’m going to change,” Ward announced.

“What’s wrong with what you’ve got on?” I asked.

“It’s all part of Aaron’s marketing plan,” he winked, and when he returned wearing nothing but a jock strap, I got the message. It was one of those jock straps with laces up the front, only Ward did not tie the laces. He let them dangle, exposing his pubes and just a slender slice of his cock, tempting all who witnessed it.

“Rafael!” I shouted, seeing my buddy enter through the wide doors with Señor Papi, the Spanish ambassador. “What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. “Why aren’t you in New York whooping it up?”

“Oh, I’ve whooped plenty of Big Apple ass,” he boasted, “but I couldn’t miss my buddy’s big artistic debut.”

I threw my arms around him and hugged him until he begged me to let him go. “How did you get here,” I asked. “Did you take the train?”

“No,” he replied, “I rode up with Papi in his limo.”

“Oh, it’s just Papi now, eh? Not Señor Papi or Ambassador Papi?” Rafael just shrugged as if he were too much the gentleman to give away any secrets, but the message was clear, and we reminisced fondly of our own adventure in the back of Mr. Block’s limousine. I wanted to ask Rafael if he had repeated that escapade with his new friend, but it really didn’t seem necessary. I was sure he had done that and probably much more.

At 11:00 o’clock sharp, Aaron ascended the stage and welcomed all the attendees—a larger crowd than I had expected since many of them had returned from the previous two days. Introducing me, he explained, “I’m going to let the artist describe his sketches and the inspiration for them.”

Ward accompanied me to the stage like an escort at the Academy Awards and stood in the background as I told the men assembled about my personal history as an artist and then described the initiation that was the inspiration for the set of four sketches. As Ward led me off the stage at the end of my schtick, he stuck his hand down the jock strap and adjusted his junk, drawing titters and applause from the crowd. At that point, there was nary a limp dick in the place, and Ward’s gesture gave everyone permission to adjust their own junk. A few of the men even dropped their pants and underwear to complete the task, and I saw a couple of men reach over and assist their neighbors in the process.

“Joe’s individual sketches here have sold for $100 each,” said Aaron, “so let’s begin the bidding for this foursome at $400, and I should let you know that we have two bidders on the phone.” Hands flew up everywhere, including those from the two assistants Aaron had drafted to handle the phone bids.

“Four twenty-five,” Aaron called and then $450. When the bidding reached $600, I thought I was going to faint, but that was just the beginning. “Let me remind you all that the artist is here to sign each piece personally,” coaxed Aaron. “So who will give me $650?”

Though a few hands gave up, most, including the Spanish ambassador’s, continued to fly as the bidding went higher and higher. By the time it reached $1200, most hands relented, but several remained, including one of the two on the phone. When the bidding reached $1400, only one bidder in the crowd and one on the phone remained. “Fourteen twenty-five,” announced Aaron. “Who will give me $1425?” At that point, the art enthusiast in the crowd conceded, and the victory was awarded to the anonymous bidder on the phone.

“Sorry, Joe, I can’t tell you that,” said Aaron when I asked him who the winning bidder was. “He asked to remain anonymous.” So, I sidled up to the young man who had taken the phone call and asked him. “I really don’t know,” he apologized. “I believe he is from New Haven. Dick, Rick, something like that, I think.”

“Eric?”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m not sure.”

I struggled to hold back my tears of joy and redemption, but even that was nothing to compare to the shock I was about to experience.

To be continued