I’d been concentrating all on my attention so devotedly on Rick’s cock that I’d actually forgotten that there was a man on his knees before me, sucking mine. Now, glancing downward, I was startled to see this man’s head, with its tangled sweaty hair, bobbing up and down in front of my crotch. I watched the full length of my dick disappear under his thick moustache on each down stroke he made. As Rick continued to lean over me, pressing my body tightly against his and caressing me with both of his hands, I felt a third man’s fingers spreading the cheeks of my ass…a face pressing between them…a hot tongue slickly bathing my asshole with saliva.
“That’s right,” Rick encouraged my faceless rimmer, speaking to him in Italian. “Lick his ass. Suck it. Get it good and wet for me, because I’m going to shove my cock in there and fuck him.”
“We want to watch you fuck him,” one of the masturbating onlookers whispered.
“Yes, put that big cock of yours up his pretty ass,” another man urged.
“No problem, gentlemen,” Rick told them.
He pulled me away from the guy who was tonguing my ass. Expertly, Rick clapped his hands onto my hips and spun me around, so that my back turned to him. With his hands still gripping my hips, he pressed himself against me. I could feel his hard cock sliding up the inside of my leg, colliding with my balls. As Rick adjusted his aim and the head of his stiff prick touched my hole, I tensed.
“Not without a rubber, Rick,” I protested.
“Io ho bisogno di uno presevativo,” Rick announced, addressing the room in general.
The management of The Neptune Baths seemed to be conscientious about promoting a safe-sex agenda. Someone picked up a clear plastic bowl and offered it to Rick. The bowl contained an assortment of condoms, along with similarly sized and shaped foil packets of lube.
Rick gloved up his dick, then applied a swipe of lubricant.
“Bend over,” he instructed me. “I want to fuck you standing up.”
This sounded good to me. Blindly, I backed up against him, my buttocks fitting neatly into his groin. “Fuck me, Rick,” I begged. “Fuck me good and hard. Oh, make me feel it, going in and out of me.”
“That’s what I want to feel, too. My cock, sliding in and out of your sweet ass.”
We had attracted more onlookers, one of whom moved in close to us and began to fondle my dick. When I did nothing to discourage him, this anonymous number smiled at me. His naked sun bronzed body was lean and the hand caressing my cock had tough callouses on it. I thought I recognized him as one of the local fisherman I’d seen more than once on the quay.
“Get down on your knees,” Rick invited this man, in Italian. “Get down on your knees and suck his cock while I fuck him.”
The fisherman obeyed. His warm, wet mouth engulfed my cock.
Rick took a firm grip on my hips. With a slow, gentle forward motion, he penetrated me.
His first thrusts into me were uncomfortable. The moist heat permeating the room had relaxed my limbs, but for some reason it hadn’t loosened my sphincter, which tightened up in self-defence.
Suddenly the bloke kneeling before me took my cock all the way down and his throat started constricting around it, and my body seemed to melt. Once again, that irresistible hot fever of desire possessed me. At that same moment, I felt a sharp pain, then an incredible rush up inside my guts. Suddenly Rick’s body pressed hard against mine and he filled me. I had rarely felt anything like it. My body dissolved then and there. I felt nothing except an overpowering need to have every inch, every molecule, of his stunning cock inside me. His powerful arms tightened around my chest as I shoved my butt back into his groin and I felt his cock go in deeper. He eased back for a moment, but then he urged it in harder, even deeper. All the while Rick fucked me, that anonymous throat on my prick milked it, swallowing it.
I felt Rick’s body tighten and his arms tense as his fingertips dug into my flesh. “Come,” he whispered. “Come in his mouth. Now!”
I felt him explode inside me. The heat of his orgasm surged through my own body and erupted again, to gush through my own cock…and into the throat that kept swallowing and swallowing. The fisherman kneeling in front of me grunted with undisguised satisfaction as he sucked me dry. Even after he reluctantly allowed my penis to slip from between his lips, he continued to lap at it with his tongue, making my flesh twitch and pulse in helpless post-ejaculatory response.
At last, though, my cock sucker looked up at me and smiled. “Grazie,” he whispered, giving my cock and balls a farewell caress with his hand, before he stood up and moved away.
Rick still had his cock jammed up my butt. Without breaking this most intimate of contacts, we moved cautiously together, shuffling our feet in close proximity, until he was leaning against the wall, with me in front of him, my back pressed against his chest. With one of his heavy arms draped wearily over my shoulder, we leaned against one another, gasping and moaning, watching the cluster of bodies around us still writhing.
A few minutes later I finally felt him ease his dick out of me. He pulled off the condom, tied a knot in it to keep his sperm trapped inside, and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket littered with used rubbers, empty condom and lube wrappers. Rick gave me a smart little smack on my rump.
“Good boy,” he told me. “Good fuck.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. It was rather intense on my end, too.”
We made our way down and out the door.
“Let’s go sit in the dry sauna for a minute,” Rick suggested, “to catch our breath.”
There were two men in the sauna. They were stretched out comfortably up on wooden planks, one on his stomach, the other lying at full length on top of him, fucking him, both of them oblivious to our entrance and indeed to the rest of the world. Rick and I sat down opposite them and enjoyed the performance.
We watched the two men come before we hit the showers.
Standing under the spray, we watched each other as we scrubbed ourselves, smiling whenever our eyes met, then again as we dried off. I wanted to say something, but I was also aware that words seemed superfluous at this point. I sensed that Rick knew what I wanted to tell him—how good I felt, how great it was to stand there face to face with a man I’d just had sex with and feel no guilt, no shame, no need to deny how much I had enjoyed myself.
“Getting your second wind?” Rick asked.
“I think so.”
“Why don’t we go see if Vittorio’s free? If he is, I’ll treat you to one of his famous massages.”
“Have you had him? I mean…have you had him massage you?”
“Let’s just say Vittorio and I are old friends. This is a small town, remember. Let me just make a quick trip to my locker to get some cash.”
Vittorio, I discovered, had a good-sized room in which to work. When he had a customer, he kept the door closed, with a sign saying Occupata on it. When he was free, he left the door open. The door was open when Rick and I arrived. Vittorio was nude as he tidied up the room. He seemed pleased to see us and not at all surprised.
Rick spoke to Vittorio in Italian.
“Good evening, Vittorio. How are you?”
“I couldn’t be better, Signor Rick. And you?”
“I’m feeling fine. Nice and relaxed. Now, listen. I’d like you to give our friend here, Il Viscontino, a massage. One of your very special massages. And I want to watch.” Rick handed Vittorio a hundred-euro note, already somewhat crumpled from the humidity there inside the bathhouse. “Will this cover it?”
“For this amount of money, Signor Rick, I would massage every man in the place.”
“Well, let’s see how well you can take care of just one.”
“You’re very generous.”
“And I know that you’re very talented. Let’s see you put all that talent to good use.”
Rick closed the door, after making sure the warning sign was displayed on its outside. I stretched out on the massage table. V
ittorio lit a scented candle, which filled the room with a delicate aroma of musk. He slicked up his hands with oil and went to work on me.
He started at my shoulders, anointing them first with the oil, then worked on my back, progressing down to my buttocks. His touch was ideally gentle yet firm, very professional. It was obvious he was in no hurry and far from watching the clock, was content to take his time, working on me thoroughly. He massaged my shoulders, his fingers probing into the tense muscles, relaxing them, down my spine. When he kneaded my buttocks, the sensation was surprisingly soothing, then just as slowly and deliberately, he worked his way down my legs, all the way down to my feet. I felt myself transformed into a limp, totally passive bundle of lazy sensation. When he kneaded my feet, my entire body quivered with pleasure. I felt something brush against my upturned palm on the bench. A surge of excitement passed through my body as I realized that it was the head of Vittorio’s penis.
My own penis had grown progressively harder. There was nothing I could do about it. No exercise of will power, to keep it down, not that there seemed to be any reason to conceal my arousal from my masseur.
“Would you like to roll over now?” he asked.
“Sure.”
I turned over, sitting up a bit and he immediately noticed my erection, reacting to it with the slightest of smiles.
“I can see that you are still tense. I must be doing something wrong.”
“Not at all. You’re doing everything exactly right.”
His smile broadened. He put a widespread hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me back down, flat on my back. “You must relax.”
I tried my best to do so. His hand lingered on my chest as his other hand reached for the oil. With both palms freshly lubricated, he worked over my chest, down across my stomach.
“Does that feel good?” Vittorio asked me, in a whisper.
“It’s wonderful.” I, too, spoke softly, as though the two of us were plotting something together and didn’t want to risk someone hearing us. I was painfully aware of his fingers on my stomach, just inches away from my penis. I held my breath, waiting for him to touch it.
But he didn’t. Instead, he went around it, down to my legs. He oiled the insides of my thighs, casually brushing his fingers against my testicles.
I lay there waiting for him to touch me in that forbidden area. In fact, he was giving me an excellent rubdown, as good as, any I have received from a professional masseur, but I wanted more.
Finally, as I’d known he would, he touched it—offhandedly, as though completely by accident, but we both knew better. I felt my penis quiver. A hot tingling shot up through my stomach.
His fingers closed tightly around me. “He’s got a beautiful cock—doesn’t he, Signor Rick.”
“Yes, he does.” The sound of Rick’s voice startled me. I’d actually forgotten he was there in the room with us, watching Vittorio massage me.
“Why don’t you play with it, Vittorio,” Rick urged. “See if you can get it good and hard.”
“It’s already hard. Il Viscontino is a very virile man.”
Those oil-slicked fingers began a slow caressing motion, up and down the full length of my shaft and the sensations were almost overwhelming. I was afraid I was going to come. I kept my eyes closed and abandoned myself to the pleasure Vittorio was giving me.
“He’s got a hot ass, too, doesn’t he?” I heard Rick whisper.
“Yes, it’s very nice indeed.”
“Let’s see how many of your fingers you can get in there. Put them in one at a time. I want to see you play with his ass.”
I felt the need to make a token protest. “Hey! Don’t I have any say in the matter?” I asked.
“No,” Rick told me. “No, you don’t. Your job is to just lie there and get finger-fucked.”
“Oh, all right, if you insist,” I grumbled. “Go ahead and use my hole, if that’s what’ll make you happy.”
“It’s going to make me ecstatic,” Rick promised. “And you’re going to enjoy it, too.”
Vittorio already had two fingers inserted in my ass. He teased my sphincter with the tip of a third finger, then eased it inside me as well.
“Oh God,” I moaned.
“I think he likes it,” Rick said. “Go on, Vittorio, work those fingers around inside his butt.”
“He’s got big hands. Take it easy, Vittorio! I’m not into getting fist-fucked,” I said.
“Aren’t you?” Rick seemed to be getting very excited, watching the masseur work on me. “Too bad. I bet that hole of yours could take it.”
“All I want in there right now is a good hard dick. Come on, one of you horny bastards. Get your cock in there and give me a good, hard fucking. Fuck that horny ass of mine!”
“Where are your rubbers, Vittorio?” Rick asked.
“Here, Signor Rick.”
“Hurry,” I pleaded. “Hurry up and fuck me!”
“Don’t worry. You’re gonna be the salami in our sandwich, baby,” Rick promised me, in that peculiar American English of his.
We lay on our sides on the table, with me in the middle. Vittorio penetrated me and I penetrated Rick. Our bodies were sandwiched together, all right, just as Rick had promised. Every lunge Vittorio’s cock made, deep into my ass, drove my own tool into Rick’s anus. I couldn’t decide which of the two pleasures was the more intense—Vittorio’s bulk filling me and making my rectum burn or Rick’s sphincter hugging the shaft of my bloated, throbbing prick. Luckily, I didn’t have to choose between the two. I was savouring both sensations at once!
After we’d all climaxed together, even I had to admit I’d had enough action to satisfy me for one night. Rick and I said goodnight to the indefatigable Vittorio, who had to get ready for his next customer.
Rick and I showered, then separated only long enough to get dressed.
I realized that, ironically, I hadn’t used my room for sex. In fact, I’d spent only a few minutes in it. Still, I’d undeniably gotten my money’s worth.
We met in the locker room and left the bathhouse together. The streets were deserted. There were street lamps, but they were spaced widely apart and were of low wattage, casting oases of soft light onto the ground separated by expanses of shadow. As we walked, we encountered no other pedestrians.
“I assume it’s safe to walk around here, this late at night?” I asked.
“Of course. This isn’t Naples. It isn’t even Positano. There’s very little crime here. For one thing, all of the locals seem to be related to one another, in one way or another. If a local boy were to break the law, his relatives and his neighbours would never let him hear the end of it. The tourists cause most of the problems. You know—drinking too much, getting stoned, making a brutta figura of themselves in public. The police keep an eye out for them. We’re not likely to be mugged, walking home from the baths. And if we were,” he added, facetiously, “I’m here to protect you.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Don’t let my genteel exterior deceive you. I can be tough when I have to be, and I suspect you can, too.”
“Yes. It does seem to come with the territory. You know, being gay and all. One develops a certain instinct for self-preservation.”
We had reached one of the town’s piazzas and as we crossed this open area, I glanced upward. A crescent moon was suspended, low in the deep indigo of the night sky.
“What a beautiful night,” I said. “It’s always beautiful here, it seems, day or night. I can understand why you like to live here.”
“Yes, it’s peaceful. No matter how many tourists pass through, there’s a certain calm here that never seems to change. But you—you must feel at home in London, despite all its bustle.”
“I do. Maybe because of all the bustle. I’m used to it.”
We were silent for a moment.
“By the way,” he said. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For to
night. For having sex with me. It was very nice.”
“You’re welcome. I’m not used to having guys thank me for having sex with them.”
“Aren’t you? Why not? I mean, why shouldn’t you be? Why should tricking be different from any other activity? We gay men can at least be civil to one another.”
We had reached Rupert’s street.
“Well,” I said, reluctantly, “here’s where we have to go our separate ways.”
“Yeah.”
“Not that you couldn’t come on up and sleep with me tonight, in Rupert’s house.”
“Or you could come sleep with me, at The Blue Cat. But no. I am kind of sleepy. All that sex has worn me out and I do have to be up early in the morning. I’ll say goodnight to you here, if you don’t mind, and be on my way.”
“All right. Goodnight, then.”
I kissed him. His hair, when I held his head in my hands, was still damp.
I mounted the stairs to the terrace. When I had reached it, I walked over to the far end and looked in the direction Rick had gone. He was still visible, moving away in the distance.
“Hey, you,” I called out, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the still of the night.
He turned, looked up, saw me, smiled and waved.
I blew him a kiss. He blew me one back and I heard him chuckle softly before he turned and was gone, melting into the shadows that lay between the street lamps.
I felt a bit like Juliet, at the end of the balcony scene. Well, at that point in Shakespeare’s play, Juliet was still a virgin, while I was anything but. My Romeo had already fucked me. Nevertheless, I was a happy man as I went inside and got ready for bed.
Chapter Eleven
The Advantages of Technology
Vittorio, as things turned out, was one of those annoyingly technologically savvy young people who knew all about connecting via the internet.
The Blue Cat Page 19
