The Blue Cat

by Roland Graeme

  “I must be more resilient than I thought I was.”

  “And there wasn’t anybody on today’s busloads of tourists who appealed to you?”

  “You make me sound like some sort of a predator,” I protested.

  “Oh, I wasn’t being judgmental. God knows I’m in no position to throw stones. Don’t the French have that expression, the man of average sensuality? You and I may be a few notches above the average—that’s all.”

  As we talked and I enjoyed my cold drink, I studied his face. Perhaps as a result of his slight physical fatigue, there was something open and unguarded about his expression. He seemed at ease in my company, as though we were old friends. For all practical purposes, he’d invited me to join him for sex. We were surely going to make up for our missed opportunity the other night, but neither of us seemed to feel any need to rush things.

  “I’d like to paint your portrait,” I told him, “but I don’t know when you’d ever find the time to sit still long enough to pose for me.”

  “Yeah, you might have to do it from memory—or I could give you a photograph. In all seriousness, I hope you’ll find the time to do a picture of the hotel, to add to our display downstairs. It needn’t be a big painting or an elaborate one, just a small sketch. And I’ll pay you the going rate or deduct it from your bill.”

  “I’d be honoured to have my work up there on the wall among the rest. And I couldn’t possibly charge you for it.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can work out some sort of a satisfactory arrangement. For example, the painting in exchange for my sexual services.”

  “It’d have to be some painting, to make that a fair exchange.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, but you may have an exaggerated notice of my prowess in bed. After all, you haven’t sampled my services yet.”

  “An omission which I have every intention of rectifying.”

  “You’re the decisive type, aren’t you? I like that in a man.”

  “And you’re the sexy type. I like that in a man.”

  He picked up the tall slim bottle of lemon-flavored liqueur. “Let me refresh your glass.”

  “I said I’d limit myself to one,” I protested.

  “Oh, live a little,” he coaxed. “Have one and a half.”

  “I don’t seem to have any will power when I’m around you.”

  “Will power, my dear viscount, is a highly overrated quality. Especially when it gets in the way of the libido.”

  “Very well put. You know, you’re not just a handsome face, a nicely muscled body and a big cock. You’re reasonably intelligent, too.”

  “Why, thank you, kind sir. But you haven’t seen my cock yet.”

  “I beg to correct you. I have indeed been vouchsafed a glimpse of the appendage in question. I saw it that morning on the beach. When you stripped off in front of me and went into the sea.”

  “Oh yes, so you did. But it wasn’t hard.”

  “Nevertheless, it had a promising heft to it, even in repose.”

  “It’s beginning to fulfil that promise, right now.”

  “So I’ve observed.” Those loose-fitting pyjama bottoms were not a suitable garment for concealing an erection. Rick had developed one while we were talking, and the green silk draped across his crotch barely contained his tumescence. “Forgive me for staring.”

  “Oh, no harm done.”

  “But I have to admit it—my intentions are harmful in the extreme. They might even be described as nefarious.”

  My tongue stumbled a little over the word nefarious, to my annoyance, although Rick just laughed.

  I’d promised myself that this time I’d go easy on the alcohol. However, the ice-cold limoncello was good and I’d already consumed enough of it to give me a buzz.

  “History may be repeating itself. I’m getting a little drunk,” I reported.

  “Good. I want you to get a little drunk. Just enough to get over your inhibitions.”

  “What inhibitions?” I bragged. “I don’t have any.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Another glass of this hooch and I won’t have any, either.”

  “Let’s drink up, then, and get this party started.”

  “You know what I was thinking about, all day long and especially during that boring town council meeting tonight?” Rick asked me.

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “You. You and that pretty little blond Danish boy, to be precise. You and him, sucking each other’s dicks. Fucking each other up the ass. Making each other come.”

  “For your information, the fucking was all one-sided. I pounded that bitch’s butt for him until he was sore, then he begged me for more. And I gave it to him.”

  “You horny bastard.”

  “I’m horny, all right. Only, now my ass is twitching. Now I’m the one who’s ready to beg for it. I want to be fucked the way I fucked him, all night long. Think you’re up to the job, Yank?”

  “I’m your man, Limey.”

  “I wish you were.”

  “Let’s get dirty.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “I want you to suck my southern white trash cock,” Rick declared.

  “Oh, I’m going to suck it, all right. And I want you to fuck my hoity-toity British blueblood ass.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal, you horny fuck!”

  As though we were performing a well-rehearsed routine, we both set our empty glasses down at the same time. We stood up, also in unison, and stepped toward each other, eliminating the distance between us. He smiled at me—not seductively, but in a way that was unmistakably a challenge.

  “Make your move,” he taunted me, his voice a fierce whisper, raspy with desire.

  I reached out and grabbed him by the lapels of his robe, jerking him toward me. By then I couldn’t have stopped myself had I wanted to. I yanked his robe open. As I’d already noticed, he wasn’t wearing the tops of the pyjamas, and when he bared his torso, I placed my hands on his chest. I could feel his nipples stiffen against my palms. I massaged his pecs and he let out a faint moan of pleasure.

  I was in an aggressive mood, but Rick offered no resistance when I tugged his robe halfway down his arms, then attacked his nipples and his armpits with my mouth. I licked and sucked, ravenously, savouring the feel, the scent and the taste of his flesh. One of his hands clamped on the back of my neck, silently urging me on.

  I reached down, found the drawstring of his pyjamas and opened it. The waistband of the silk pants sagged down about his hips. My fingers searched for the fly of the garment and pulled it open, freeing his penis.

  Sure enough, his cock was as hard as a rock, sticking straight out from his gaping pyjamas, so damn big it looked like my forearm. Just the sight of it sent fresh waves of hot lust rippling all the way through my body. Few of the men I’d ever tricked with had anything comparable between their legs. I reached out, grabbed it and knelt down. “Let me have that big fucking thing,” I demanded. I didn’t give him a chance, either to acquiesce or to refuse. I opened my mouth, shoved my face forward and took the full length of his cock inside my mouth.

  As though he could read my mind, Rick seemed to know exactly what I wanted. Namely, to have my face fucked, good and hard! He seized my head between his hands and held it in place as he began to thrust his cockshaft back and forth within the tight seal of my lips.

  “All the way,” he commanded me. “Get all the way down on it. Take every inch of my cock. No teeth, fucker. Just your lips. I’d better feel just your lips, sliding up and down on my meat. Don’t you dare bite me.”

  I wondered what he would do if I did bite him. Maybe he’d slap my face, punch me, beat me up. The masochistic fantasy excited me, but I was too intent upon pleasing him to risk antagonizing him. I redoubled my oral efforts, slurping loudly and obscenely as I worked my mouth around the circumference of his shaft. I brought my tongue into play, too, using it to swab his cock from e
very possible angle as he drove it in and out of me.

  “Ah, that’s some good cocksucking,” he praised me. “I knew you’d be good at it. I could tell just from looking at you that you know how to take care of a man’s cock and make it feel good!”

  I grunted in assent as I continued to work on the thick inflexible cylinder jammed in my mouth.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth, if you go on sucking me like that,” he warned. “Now’s your chance to back off, if you don’t want it.” As he issued the warning, he eased his grip on my head somewhat.

  I didn’t back off. I sucked him more furiously than ever and in response, his fingers tightened against my temples again.

  “Fucker! Horny fucker! You’re going to get it,” he promised me. “You’re going to get it any minute now, if you keep that up.”

  I kept it up.

  “You’re going to get a mouthful of cum. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

  I sucked ever more forcefully, holding my breath.

  “Christ!” he cried, suddenly sounding no longer tough and threatening, but vulnerable, almost frightened. “Christ, yeah! Ah!” His fingers curled into claws, holding onto my hair and keeping my head trapped firmly in place in front of his crotch. The full length of his erection drove into my mouth and down into my throat, making me gag! He held it there! “Shit!” he screamed, in a raw, high-pitched voice. “Fuck!”

  Suddenly his hot cum was spurting free from his penis, flooding my mouth. God, it was thick! It was as though I’d dumped an entire container of yogurt into my mouth! I gagged, but I kept my mouth closed tightly around his erupting penis. I swallowed repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to contain the flow.

  “Fuck!” Rick bellowed. “Take it! Take that cum! You cock sucker! Oh, you hot little cock sucker, you! Hot-mouthed, cocksucking Limey son of a bitch! Take it! Take it all!”

  As though I had any choice except to take it, what with his hands gripping my head, his dick jammed inside my mouth, choking me, all of that thick hot semen pouring out into me! Even his shouted insults were like whiplashes applied to my flesh, spurring me on, intensifying my lust. I held on, desperately, gagging and retching, but I swallowed his full load. I drained him of every drop he force-fed me. I sucked him dry!

  At last, though, I simply had to breathe, or I’d pass out. I pulled my head back and mercifully, his hands relaxed their hold on me, allowing his semen-beslimed prick to slip free from between my slavering lips. I fought to refill my lungs with air. His dick bobbed wildly from side to side to in front of my face, a final thread of glistening fluid oozing from the deep slit that bisected its tip. God, he had a big cock! And God was it ever hot!

  I had my own trousers open. I was pumping my own tool furiously. My fist worked almost painfully, up and down on my bloated shaft. My balls were swollen and aching, fully charged with a load of cum. I abandoned my kneeling posture. I jumped up and forced him down to his knees, his turn and I shoved my dick into his face.

  “Suck it!” I ordered him, in a tone of voice that brooked no refusal.

  “Ah, cazzo!” was all that he was able to say, appropriately enough, before I grabbed a hank of his long hair tightly in one fist, still wanking my cock with the other one. I was trying to get the damned thing in his mouth before I came, but his lips were clamped shut. He was defying me, the bastard!

  “Open your mouth!” I shouted.

  “Make me,” he retorted. “Make me suck on that dirty dick of yours, if you think you’re man enough! You nasty little Limey cocksucking whore boy!”

  He had barely emitted that final monosyllable boy before I lunged forward and forced my penis between his open lips. He’d miscalculated badly by taunting me. He’d made the mistake of opening his mouth, and just as nature abhors a vacuum, a stiff prick is inevitably going to take advantage of an open and available mouth!

  I fucked his face for him, savagely, thinking only of my own satisfaction. Rick was with me, though, all of the way. He seemed to exult in my use of him!

  “So I’m a whore boy, am I?” I asked him. “Well, it looks as though you’re the whore boy now, doesn’t it? And the cock sucker, for that matter. You’re no better than those rent boys who congregate downstairs at the bar. At least they do it because they need the money. You and I do it because we both love cock. You’re no better than I am. So you might as well get that mouth of yours all the way down on my cock. You know you want it!”

  He grunted raucously, from deep down in his throat, the entire time he was blowing me. I could tell he was really getting into it. The more roughly I treated him, the more he seemed to like it. Yes, he was every bit as bad as I was. He was every bit as much of a slut as I was. We were a well-matched pair!

  I had an inspiration.

  “I’m not going to shoot in your mouth,” I informed him. “I’m going to pull out and spray my load all over your face. Like they do in the porno films. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you dirty fuck?”

  He grunted frantically in agreement. His eyes rolled upward in their sockets, staring up at me, wild with excitement, begging for my cum. I could feel myself tottering on the edge of orgasm. I was going to have to give it to him!

  Without any further warning, everything exploded. I pulled back, wrenching my dick free from his tight oral grip. I watched my cum splatter all over his face. It gushed into his hair, his eyes, all over his nose and cheeks. He received the full load I’d been building up all day long. The semen left my phallus in strong white jets, like liquid bullets fired from the muzzle of a pistol and wet his face. He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue and my last helpless spurts flew directly into his mouth. Moaning, he leaned forward, closed his lips around my cockshaft and sucked me some more, bringing his tongue into play to lick the final dribbles of fluid from my glans.

  “God damn,” he gasped, when his tongue had licked me clean. “You are one sexy son of a bitch!”

  “You’re none too shabby, yourself.”

  “I needed that,” he told me.

  “So did I.”

  “What, after last night?”

  “All right, maybe I didn’t so much need it as want it.”

  “And now that you’ve had it, was it up to expectations?”

  “It surpassed them.”

  He laughed, in that unguarded way he had. “But I’m a terrible host. Here we are, on the floor. I didn’t even have the decency to take you into the bedroom.” He stretched himself like a cat, then stood up. “Come on,” he said, reaching down to take hold of my hand and help me to my feet. “Let me make up for neglecting you, now.”

  Neglecting me was about the last thing he’d been guilty of, but I allowed him to lead me into an elegantly appointed bathroom, where we stood there side by side in front of the sink and matter-of-factly used soapy washcloths to give ourselves a quick scrub. A brisk rubdown with towels, then we went into the bedroom.

  I was experiencing that afterglow of sex, in which everything seems a bit hazy. The bedroom was dark, and although Rick struck a match and lit a tall thick pillar candle set on top of a bureau, the resulting pool of flickering light was small and left most of the room in deep shadow. As a result, about the only object I took any real notice of for the time being was the bed itself. It looked like an antique, made from some type of fruitwood, stained dark and shaped in bombé form, with sensual curves. There were painted panels set into the wood, but at first, I couldn’t make out much of the designs in the dim candlelight. I could, however, see pillows heaped high upon the mattress and that the sheets were heavy linen and looked ideal for a weary body to slip in between, which is precisely what I did. From this closer vantage point, I now saw that the bed’s painted panels depicted ancient Greek warriors, rendered in a decidedly kitschy early nineteenth-century style, brandishing their swords, spears and shields.

  Rick sat on the edge of the bed, looked down at me and stretched out his hand to give my chest a light caress. “Sle
epy?” he asked.

  “A little. Don’t worry, before I do fall asleep I’ll go back to my room.”

  “Don’t be silly. Spend the night here, with me.”

  “Don’t you have to get up early in the morning?”

  “I don’t have to. I’m the boss, after all. I don’t necessarily have to be so much of a control freak all the time. The place won’t go to hell in a hand basket without me. Anyway, you seem to be an early riser, too. If I get up before you do, you can always just stay here and have a nice lie-in.”

  “All right. You’ve talked me into it.”

  “Good. And I’d like to talk to you, for a little while, before we go to sleep.”

  “I can talk to you much better if you slide in here next to me.”

  He did so and we lay there together, side by side on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. It was one of those moments in life that seems perfect, when you couldn’t ask for anything more.

  “You know, you’re the nicest Englishman I’ve ever met,” he remarked. “And that isn’t a backhanded compliment, because a lot of your countrymen have stayed here.”

  “And you’re the nicest American I’ve ever met, although in your case it’s rather less of a compliment, because I haven’t really known all that many.”

  He chuckled. “But I’d be willing to bet you’ve tricked with most of the ones you’ve met.”

  “Um, you’d win that bet, I admit. I can never decide which are sexier, American men or Australians. Limiting the discussion to English speakers.”

  “Italian men are in a class all by themselves, though. They tend to be mama’s boys, and the macho act most of them feel compelled to put on can be a pain in the ass. But when they’re hot, they’re really hot. They can fuck like animals, completely uninhibited and at the same time make love to you in a way that makes you feel like the most desirable man on earth.”

  “Stop it, Rick. You’re getting me all excited again.”

  “That’s the general idea. You aren’t really sleepy, are you?”

  “Not anymore.”

  He rolled over to lie on top of me, weighing me down, looking down at me, peering at my face in the darkness. I couldn’t see his features too clearly, but I could feel him, especially when he brought his face down and kissed me. His long hair fell down and set my nerve endings to tingling, wherever it touched my flesh. We began to rub our bodies together, restlessly, making and breaking contact between various parts of our bodies. All the while, we writhed against each other and we kept kissing. We were like two horny schoolboys who’d climbed into bed together after lights-out in the dormitory, discovering sex for the first time.