“Could we—get naked—while we finish our wine?” Remi asked, boldly.
“Absolutely. When I’m here at home alone, the first thing I usually do, when I come in the door, is strip.” Guiche stood up, set his wineglass down on the coffee table, and pulled his T-shirt free from the waistband of his jeans. He drew the shirt up over his head and off, tossing it aside. He opened his jeans and dropped them to his ankles, stepping out of them. He wore no underwear, and his cock and balls swung free, as though relieved to be no longer confined by clothing.
Remi, too, had stood up, and he stripped while he watched Guiche shedding his few clothes.
“This is more comfortable,” Guiche remarked, easily, as he refilled both their glasses. Reseating themselves, the two nude men resuming their drinking.
“Can I see it?” Remi asked.
“See what?”
“Your namesake—or is the other way around? Your guiche.”
“Oh, that. Sure.” Spreading his legs, Guiche raised them slightly. He cupped his testicles in the palm of one hand, and he hefted them upward, along with his uncircumcised penis—which was technically flaccid, at the moment, but which was already visibly stirring to life. It promised to be quite large once it achieved full erection.
As he had done on that provocative photo on his website, Guiche was now exposing his “taint,” or his perineum muscle, which was lightly dusted with fine body hair. The piercing was a surprisingly large-gauge surgical steel ring, inserted through well-healed holes in the muscle, halfway between the base of Guiche’s scrotum and the small pink pucker of his sphincter. With his other hand, Guiche reached down and grasped the ring, first rotating it back and forth, and then tugging on it.
“Like it?” he asked.
“Didn’t it hurt to have that done?” Remi asked.
Guiche shrugged. “It burned like hell, when that piercing needle went through there. And it took a long time to heal. The main thing is, I have to wear loose-fitting underwear, like boxer shorts. Anything tight-fitting, like jockeys, or bikini briefs—the crotch rubs against the piercing, and the fabric wears out. That’s okay, if you don’t mind having holes in your underwear. But it’s worth it,” Guiche added. “I like my ring. I’m always aware that it’s down there. It turns me on.”
Aware that Remi was staring at him, Guiche was still manipulating the ring with one hand—while he held, and squeezed, his other handful of genitalia. His cock was getting hard. It was uncircumcised, as was Remi’s, and the glans was beginning to protrude from its protective sheath of foreskin. Remi was all too aware of a corresponding rigidity developing in his own penis. His cockhead, imitating Guiche’s, was also poking itself free from its retracting foreskin.
“Having my ring played with always gets me hot,” Guiche confessed.
“You’re playing with it, now,” Remi pointed out. “Are you getting hot?”
“Very. Want to take over?”
“Yeah. Can we—go into your bedroom?”
“You bet.”
Each man drained whatever wine was left in his glass. Guiche then led the way to his bedroom.
This is what you came here for, a still-nervous Remi reminded himself. What you’re paying for. There’s no need to be nervous. Just go for it! Make the most of it.
The bedroom was small, without much in the way of free floor space—because so much of it was taken up by the large platform bed. This was, Remi supposed, an appropriate piece of furniture for a male prostitute to have. The bed was turned down, and it was neatly made up with clean sheets and pillowcases, in a particularly vivid shade of lime green.
On the wall behind the bed was the largest and most explicit of the oil paintings. This one depicted two nude men, their bulgingly muscular bodies locked together in a sixty-nine position, their mouths sucking on each other’s exaggeratedly stiff pricks. All this was lovingly rendered by the artist with bold brush strokes, in his favored palette of earth tones.
On the small wooden nightstand beside the broad bed, next to a small shaded table lamp and the digital alarm clock, was a clean folded towel, a plastic pump bottle of a silicone-based gel sex lubricant, and a box of condoms.
“I don’t bareback,” Guiche said, switching on the bedside lamp, which cast a pool of warm yellow light over the bed, and then gesturing toward the box of rubbers. “Not even if a guy offers to pay me extra—which, believe me, a lot of them do. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Good for you. I agree.”
“Then we can fuck with impunity,” Guiche told Remi, with an expression of impish glee on his handsome face. “You in me, me in you—whichever. Or we can take turns. It’s your party, so you get to call the shots.”
“I think I’d like to fuck you,” Remi blurted out.
“Great! If you want any drugs, they’re right here in the top drawer of the nightstand. Help yourself.”
“I don’t usually like to get high when I have sex. I don’t really need it. Not when I really like the other guy,” Remi said.
Guiche smiled. “Do you really like me?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s make love.” Stepping toward Remi, closing the short gap between their naked bodies, Guiche embraced him and kissed him, on the mouth. There was nothing tentative or half-hearted about the kiss. Rather, it was though Guiche and Remi were old lovers, who’d shared their bodies often on previous occasions. Submitting to the kiss, passively at first, Remi quickly began to take a more active and aggressive part in it, opening his mouth wide, gluing his lips firmly against Guiche’s lips, and inserting his tongue into the other young guy’s warm, wet mouth. Guiche grunted. His own tongue thrust itself out, probing, finding Remi’s tongue, touching it, rubbing against it restlessly, and dueling with it, lewdly, playfully.
“Fuck, you’re hot! Come on,” Guiche whispered, breaking their kiss, but keeping his lips still so close to Remi’s that they brushed together. “Down on the bed—let’s get down on the bed.”
Locked in each other’s arms, they sank down onto the waiting bed together.
Chapter Three: A Delirium of Lust
What followed was, for Remi, a delirium of lust.
Guiche was an aggressive and inventive lover, totally uninhibited.
He and Remi, embracing, rolled back and forth across the broad surface of the bed for a few moments, with first one of them on top, and then the other. There was further deep, open-mouthed kissing, while the two young men’s hands restlessly explored each other’s bodies.
Next, Guiche swung himself up and he straddled Remi’s middle, his knees bent and sinking into the mattress on either side of Remi’s body. Supporting himself on the bed with his hands, Guiche began to move his slick lips and tongue down the length of the other young man’s body, covering every inch of him with hot, tantalizing kisses and licks.
“I could eat you right up,” he declared.
Remi moaned with pleasure when he felt Guiche’s tongue gliding across his ribs, seeming to concentrate upon each one in turn and stroke its width, until he had wet all of them—and then the escort darted his tongue quickly up and down the middle of Remi’s chest, several times. Bracing himself on the mattress on his hands, Guiche slid his body a few inches lower.
Now when the escort’s busy mouth came down on him, Remi felt the hot point of Guiche’s tongue encircling his belly button. Around and around the wet, agile piece of limber flesh tickled him, narrowing the circle which it was tracing, until at last it hovered just over the deep little hole itself. Suddenly, Guiche plunged downward with his mouth, covering the whole of Remi’s navel with his lips and sucking greedily on it, seeming to draw the little depression up from the other guy’s belly so that he could get at it more easily with his tongue.
“Shit, dude!” Remi yelped. “That tickles!”
The sensation was incredible. Remi laughed nervously, and instinctively he tried to push his sex partner for hire away from him; but Guiche held off Remi’s hands. Remi’s thighs were bouncing on t
he mattress, his legs opening and closing, as the mounting pressure inside him grew more and more agonizing. He thought he was going to start screaming for mercy, if Guiche didn’t soon end this delightful, teasing torment.
His hands pushed on the male prostitute’s shoulders, urging him down. For just one instant, Guiche kissed Remi on the same part of his body which he’d been stimulating up until now; but then his mouth was raised up and it moved quickly and deftly further down, burrowing between the other young stud’s thighs and sucking hungrily on the coarse hairs which grew and bristled along his legs. Up and down the tongue tickled, moving in and out of Guiche’s mouth like the rapidly darting tongue of a snake. Each touch of it against Remi’s heated flesh stung like a venomous bite.
“Please,” Remi whimpered at last, trying to pull Guiche up to where he wanted him. “Please—now, Guiche. Do it now, before I go crazy.”
“Do what?” Guiche asked, feigning ignorance.
“Suck me. Suck my cock!”
Guiche lifted his head away from his young john’s stomach, and he smiled up at Remi, all seductiveness. “All right,” he whispered. “I won’t tease you any more, buddy.”
Remi’s hands reached out blindly to either side of where he lay on the broad bed. His fingers curled and they grasped double handfuls of the lime green sheets, clutching the fabric tighter and tighter, while he watched Guiche’s head sink lower on his torso. And then a tense yelp of lustful response ripped free from his throat and he jerked his hips up several inches from the bed, his eyes rolling back in their sockets and his head thrashing back and forth on the pillow. Guiche had taken Remi’s dick in his mouth. He’d swallowed every stiff inch of the rigid, aching, frustrated fuck tool, with a seemingly miraculous, complete lack of difficulty. He was not only already sucking the cock—expertly—he was deep-throating it, as well!
“Oh, Guiche!” Remi sobbed. “Oh, that feels so good! I never felt anything like it in my life!”
His hands clutched in the male whore’s thick hair, holding him in place, keeping his head from bobbing for just a few moments; but then releasing him—and surrendering himself completely to the hot flood of sensation washing over him, while Guiche’s lips and tongue worked on him, conspiring to bring him quickly to the verge of an explosive ejaculation.
Shit! With difficulty, Remi’s sex-numbed mind managed to register some semblance of coherent thought. He’s the best cocksucker I’ve ever had! Oh, that mouth—that hot mouth of his, working on my fucking meat! Sucking me—getting ready to suck me dry, getting ready to drain me of all my cum!
What a stud! Oh, what a fucking stud!
Guiche didn’t seem to be any hurry to bring his handsome young john to orgasm. He paced himself, shrewdly gauging Remi’s level of arousal from one moment to the next. He was toying with Remi, tantalizing him, holding out the promise of ejaculation as a prize almost within Remi’s grasp, and yet elusive.
“You fucking goddamn whore!” Remi heard himself screaming. “Suck it! Suck it off! Oh, dude—stop prickteasing me! Let me come! Let me come in your mouth!”
Again and again, Guiche brought him to the very edge of creaming, of losing his load of semen, only to ease him back from it so that the next time he resumed his assault, it was even more incredibly sweet. But Remi could only withstand so much, and at last the critical time came when he had reached the limit of his endurance. Twisting Guiche’s hair with both hands, he gave a mighty thrust with his hips, and a babble of incoherent speech emerged from his throat.
“Uh, uh!” Remi grunted. At last he found words: “I’ve got to come!” he shouted. “Damn you, you’re driving me crazy! No more—no more, dude! You’re going to have to let me shoot!”
To Remi’s horror, Guiche pulled his mouth all the way off his fiercely throbbing, saliva-coated cock!
“No! Get back down there and suck it!” Remi pleaded, desperately.
“I thought you wanted to fuck me?” Guiche taunted him.
“I want to come! Right now, I don’t care how I do it, not as long as I get to come!”
“Then shove it up my ass,” Guiche invited him.
“You dirty whore!”
“That’s right, stud. I am a dirty whore. So fuck my dirty whore ass. Make good use of it. You’ve paid for it. Now fuck it!”
What followed was a blur of motion. Guiche grabbed the box of condoms from the nightstand. He extracted one of the little foil packets, which he tore open, pulling out the rubber it contained. Seizing the pump bottle of lube, he squirted some of the gel onto his palm. Then he transferred the lubricant to Remi’s cock, massaging the erection, slicking it up from base to tip. Wildly aroused, Remi almost came, in response to the pressure of the other guy’s hand on him!
“Oh, my God, my God,” he whimpered.
Guiche unrolled the rubber, down over Remi’s cock. He smeared a second palmful of the lube over the latex-sheathed hard-on. Then, for good measure, he swiped a third squirt of the gel between his own buttocks, applying it to the puckered entrance to his ass.
“Greasing up the rubber, like this, both inside and out,” Guiche advised. “It helps you to fuck longer—and harder—more comfortably, before you come. Fuck me,” he demanded. “Oh, fuck me long and hard!”
But Remi needed neither an invitation, nor any encouragement. Half insane with frustration, he was as ready to fuck another man’s ass as he had ever been in his life.
He entered the other guy, quickly, forcing his aching prick through Guiche’s sphincter and sinking it deep into his anus. The hustler’s asshole didn’t just accept the sudden invasion—it seemed to welcome it. The hot tunnel of anal flesh closed around Remi’s shaft, gripping it firmly, possessively. And it didn’t let go!
“Ah! Ah, my God!” Remi yelled. “You’ve got such a hot ass!”
“I know I do. Fuck me. Fuck my ass! Come on, stud. Show me how much of a man you are. Pound that hole of mine!”
“Whore! Whore! You whore!” Remi spat out.
“You bet I’m a whore. Fuck my whore ass for me, dude. You’ve paid for it—now use it. Oh, work that hole of mine. Hammer it. Nail it. I like the way your cock feels in there!”
Remi groaned. He wanted to tell Guiche that he, too, was ecstatic, that he liked the way his cock felt in the other young guy’s ass. But he was simply too aroused. Lust had, temporarily, deprived him of speech.
Mute, aroused, mad with lust, he fucked the other young man’s ass. This boy whore was his! His property, for the hour Remi had paid for. His—to use. To fuck!
Chapter Four: His Confidant and Mentor
“Jesus,” Remi moaned.
He had come in Guiche’s ass. Dripping sweat, out of breath, he’d pulled out of the escort’s enticing manhole. Remi had stripped the rubber from his dick. Tying a knot in the prophylactic to keep his semen contained inside it, he’d tossed the condom onto the nightstand. Then, with a trembling hand, he reached for the trick towel which Guiche had set out there, and he used it to wipe the perspiration from his face and chest.
“You all right?” Guiche asked, solicitously.
“Yeah, I guess so. At first, I thought I was just about fucked out. I mean, literally, for good,” Remi confessed, not without a certain self-deprecating humor. “I guess I’m still in the land of the living, after all.”
“Good. Use the shower, if you want to.”
“No, I’ll wait until I get home, to do that.”
“As you like. I need to get up and stretch my legs, though. Excuse me—”
Guiche stood up and left the bedroom. Remi also managed to drag himself off the bed. He staggered into the nearby bathroom, where he did make use of a washcloth and a towel to clean himself up a bit, while he avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He was sure his face would be that of a degenerate. The kind of guy who’d pay for sex! A voluptuary—a sinner!
He went into the living room. There, Guiche had pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Bare-chested and barefoot, looking extremely se
xy, he was drinking a glass of the pinot noir.
“You okay?” he asked Remi.
“I’m fine.”
“Did you drive here?”
“No, I took the bus.”
“Might as well help me kill this bottle, then.”
“Sure. Give me a little.” Remi accepted the glass of wine which Guiche poured out for him.
“This was fun,” Guiche said.
“It was intense—that’s for sure,” Remi acknowledged. Drinking some wine, he began to retrieve his scattered clothes, and he got dressed.
“When am I going to see you again?” Guiche asked.
“I don’t know. I work for a living. Frankly—I can’t afford to do this, on a regular basis. Pay for it, I mean.”
“That’s all right. I like you. You’re hot. Maybe I’ll give you a discount. Or even not charge you.”
“Really? You’d do that? Are you looking for a boyfriend?” Remi asked.
“Fuck that shit! Who needs a boyfriend? Not me. More like a business partner. A lot of the johns want a threesome. How’d you like to work for me—alongside me? You’d be good at it. You’ve got that wholesome look about you, which a lot of the johns like.”
Remi assumed Guiche was joking. “I could never be a whore.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, before I started in this business,” Guiche said, cynically. “Will you at least think it over?”
“I’m tired, dude,” Remi pleaded. “After that workout we just had, I can’t think straight. Right now, all I want to do is go home and go to bed.”
“Sure. I understand. But think about it, will you? Call me. Or I’ll call you. We’ll talk.”
“Yes—I’d like to talk to you, Guiche. Meanwhile—well, here you go.” Remi handed Guiche some banknotes. He’d decided the other guy had definitely earned a twenty per cent tip!
“Thanks.” Guiche took the money, folded it without counting it, and deposited it in the pocket of his sweats. “Next time, though, it’s on the house. If you decide to work with me, that is. Otherwise—well, hell! A guy has to earn a living. I can’t give it away, unless I’m going to get something, in return.”
CityBoyz Page 4
