“No, I’m not going to fuck you. Not yet, anyway! I want to do something else first, to get you hot.”
“What?”
“Wait and see. Relax!”
As he gasped out that reassuring word relax, Guiche put his face down between Remi’s strong thighs and he pressed down, until his mouth was positioned at the root of Remi’s balls. He stuck out his tongue and began to lick the undersides of both furry testicles. Remi groaned in lewd appreciation of this unexpected new sensation, and his body tensed as Guiche took his mouth away and began to lick his tongue even lower, tickling the firm ridge of perineum muscle that led from Remi’s scrotum to his asshole.
“You ought to get a piercing here, in your taint, like mine,” Guiche moaned, as he licked the taut, throbbing perineum muscle.
“Matching rings?” Remi suggested. “Is that your equivalent of an engagement ring?” he teased Guiche.
“Maybe,” his lover panted. “It’s about as close to a commitment as you’re likely to get from me—at least for now. But we can talk about that later. Right now—!” Eagerly, he resumed his licking.
The dark brownish-blond hair was thick and soft, coating Remi’s butt. It bristled against Guiche’s lips as he brought his mouth lower and lower. Guiche’s heart was pounding with the excitement of what he was doing—and what he knew he was about to do.
If he was going to make oral love to the other guy, then he might as well go all the way with him—hold nothing back, and do all of the things he had enjoyed with his other sex partners. Starting with rimming! The mere thought of sucking Remi’s impossibly pretty, boyish yet butch ass, of once again tasting it with his tongue, made Guiche giddy with lust.
He gripped the two tight, muscular cheeks of his lover’s ass with both hands and he spread them slowly apart, as though he was tearing open the halves of a split grapefruit. The dark pink, lightly-tufted hole in the middle of the deep cleft formed by the buttocks was moist with sweat and quivering with muscular tension. Guiche brought his mouth toward it.
Guiche hesitated. Well aware that Remi still harbored some misgivings about the whole idea of male prostitution, he didn’t want Remi to think he was some sort of a gay slut, who’d do anything in bed with another guy. Even though that was, essentially, true! But … what the hell? That train had already left the station! Remi knew that Guiche was a whore. He accepted that fact. And Remi was an experienced gay guy, too! Surely he understood how the need for sex could grip and consume a guy, driving everything else out of his mind and reducing him to pure animal instinct. And there was no use in denying it. Guiche was more than ready to do anything, literally anything, sexual with his hot little stud lover!
Remi’s legs were tense on either side of Guiche’s neck. Guiche took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he pushed his face into the gap between Remi’s ass cheeks and he kissed his sphincter muscle passionately. At the same time he forced his extended, stiffened tongue through the rim of muscle and up inside the asshole itself.
“Oh, Jesus! Sweet Jesus!” Remi moaned, loudly. His legs locked around his lover’s neck in a viselike grip of flesh, holding Guiche’s face tightly in place against his butt. Guiche felt the muscles in Remi’s thighs twitching. His tongue probed the interior of the asshole and slowly it began to worm its way even deeper inside.
“Fucker!” Remi gasped. “Oh, you dirty little fucker! Kiss it, buddy—kiss my ass!”
Guiche kissed it. Remi’s asshole opened easily for his tongue; but once he’d pushed the tip of it inside, the sphincter muscle seemed to clamp shut again, locking around his tongue. Guiche wriggled his tongue, pushing it higher up the anus. Remi bounced helplessly on the bed, moaning, his legs thrashing, his heels hammering down on Guiche’s sturdy back. But he wasn’t moaning in protest, or struggling to free himself from Guiche’s grip. His actions were quite involuntary. He was so turned on that he was beginning to lose control of his body as a result of Guiche’s expert and enthusiastic rimming.
“Suck my ass, dude,” Remi pleaded. “Oh, fuck it with your tongue!”
Remi still had a tight grip on his own cock. By rolling his eyeballs painfully upward in their sockets, Guiche could see the erect cock as he sucked his lover’s asshole. The thick shaft of Remi’s prick was encased in Remi’s masturbating fist, and he was whacking it so forcefully that his knuckles banged against Guiche’s forehead from time to time, as he tried to jerk himself quickly toward an orgasm to relieve his sexual tension.
The head of Remi’s fuck tool was swollen, flushed a dark purplish-red color, and it had a thin trickle of clear fluid running from the piss hole. Guiche took his right hand away from his boyfriend’s buttock, brushed Remi’s fingers away from his cock, and he grasped it in his own fist.
Guiche settled down on his knees, hunched over between Remi’s widespread legs, and he started a triple action—sucking Remi’s ass, jerking Remi off, and reaching down to play with his own prick with his left fist.
Manfully, stoically, Remi took it for as long as he could, until a spasm of near-ejaculatory intensity ripped through his guts and warned him that he was about to shoot.
“Suck me, Guiche,” he begged. “My cock, buddy—suck my cock if you want to taste my fucking load! Oh, God—I’m going to shoot!”
Without changing his position, Guiche slipped his tongue out of his lover’s rectum, raised his head slightly, and used his right fist to pull Remi’s dick toward his open and panting mouth. He pressed his lips around the fat head of the prick, and then he took it into his mouth as deeply as he could with one gulp, using his hand to quite literally stuff the cock inside his mouth, inch by thick, inflexible inch.
“Oh, Guiche!” Remi shouted. “Christ, dude—what’re you doing to me with that hot mouth of yours?”
His hips rose from the mattress, driving his stiff prick deeper into the other man’s mouth. Guiche forced himself down on it, his body trembling with raw excitement, until his lips were brushing against Remi’s wiry dark blond pubic hair and his boyfriend’s dick was all the way inside his mouth. Guiche wished he could hold it like that, but it was simply too big. It jabbed into the back of his throat and, gagging, he had to pull his mouth back a bit to relieve the strain.
He took a deep, snorting breath through his nose and he began to suck Remi off. His wet lips moved easily up and down on the smooth, slippery shaft. His tongue tried to lick Remi’s cockshaft as it rammed between his lips, but when most of the big prong was in his mouth it was too thick for Guiche’s tongue to move around its bulk! Only after Guiche had pulled back on it was he able to lick around the head and the top half of the swollen column of flesh below it.
With the cock stuck firmly in his mouth, he slid his hands down to his buddy’s balls and he began to play with them while he blew him. They were like two ripe plums inside their bag of hairy skin. Guiche could feel them tightening, moving closer together, as his mouth brought Remi closer and closer to ejaculation. At any moment, Guiche knew, he would be tasting the warm, salty bursts of Remi’s cum! His lover’s cum—the same seed, in its essence, as his own. Eager to swallow his lover’s sperm, he sucked faster.
Suddenly, Remi’s hands clamped on Guiche’s head and stopped its motion. His prick quivered between the other boy’s lips, and for a moment Guiche was sure Remi was going to shoot. But the quivering subsided, and Remi pulled Guiche’s head up.
“Kiss me,” Remi demanded. They kissed. “Oh, I can taste my cock in your mouth,” Remi whispered. “So fucking hot—! Swing around, stud,” he insisted, in a voice choked with excitement. “Give me yours, too … your cock. Let me put it in my mouth. I don’t want this to be a one-way street. I want to suck your cock while you’re working on mine.”
He didn’t wait for Guiche to follow his instructions. He sat up and gripped Guiche by the waist, making him turn around and guiding him into the sixty-nine position he wanted. Once again, the two young men took their cue from what was shown in the big oil painting which adorned the wall behind Guiche
’s bed. Life imitated art!
Guiche swung his legs up toward the head of the bed, while Remi slithered down, putting his head in position to suck Guiche’s own throbbing-hard dick. Guiche started to put Remi’s big fuck tool back inside his mouth, but once again his lover held him back, his strong hand grasping and holding Guiche under the chin, inches away from Remi’s saliva-slippery, jism-drooling penis.
“Not yet,” Remi grunted out breathlessly. “That thing of mine’s all set to go off after the hot ass sucking and cocksucking you just gave me! Let it cool down for a minute and give me a head start, will you, so I can catch up with you? Let me suck you for a while first. That way, we ought to be able to time it so we can shoot off together.”
Without waiting for an answer, knowing that Guiche would do whatever he asked, Remi suddenly swooped his head down into Guiche’s crotch, and the other boy’s prickshaft slid easily into his open mouth. Now it was Guiche’s turn to lie back passively, to gasp and squirm, as his bedmate’s hot, slick tongue lapped at his meat and Remi’s lips sucked the shaft steadily back and forth, pushing it in and out of his mouth.
Guiche closed his eyes in ecstasy and rested his cheek on Remi’s warm, hairy thigh. He tried to relax and enjoy the blow job; but the lust grew inside him, drawing him quickly and remorselessly forward, toward orgasm, with each stroke of Remi’s juicy lips around his cock.
“Remi!” he moaned. “Oh, Remi, baby! I’m going to come soon. I don’t think I can hold it back, either. Not with your hot mouth on my dick, sucking me like this. I’m going to fucking shoot my load, if you keep sucking me like this! I’m not kidding. You’re going to get a mouthful, if you don’t knock it off!”
Remi bobbed his head even more rapidly and he began to suck faster. It was obvious that a mouthful of his fellow hustler’s cum was exactly what he wanted, what he was working so hard to earn.
His hand groped down blindly and guided Guiche’s head to his own cock. Guiche caught it in his mouth just as his own prick began to explode!
He stuffed his playmate’s stiff dick as far into his mouth as he could force it without choking on it, and in another second he felt the fierce telltale throbbing surge through it as it erupted, pumping all of Remi’s hot seed down his throat.
But Guiche, of course, was coming, too! His sperm volleyed deep into Rem’s mouth, rinsing out his throat. Remi swallowed it while emitting grunts and gurgles of pleasure and gratitude. Guiche experienced a moment of light-headedness, and he thought he was going to faint from excitement as they gave their hot, fresh cum to each other so generously, so unstintingly, in such rich creamy abundance, their bodies locked together in their sixty-nine position.
After a moment, the two young men separated, but only long enough to readjust their bodies so that they now lay face to face.
“Kiss me,” Remi murmured.
“You bet.”
Their lips met, fiercely, with bruising force.
Chapter Eleven: A Housewarming
Remi knew that he wanted to have sex with Maxim again. And, if possible, he also wanted to have sex, for the first time, with Jean Baptiste.
He supposed he ought to be ashamed of himself, for harboring such depraved urges, for wanting to indulge himself in such unrestrained, selfish promiscuity. After all, Maxim and Jean Baptiste had a thing going on, between the two of them. They were fuck buddies, and they insisted that each of them was free to fool around with other guys. But Remi wasn’t blind. Whenever he heard Maxim talking about Jean Baptiste, or he had an opportunity to observe the two men interacting, Remi could tell that their feelings for each other were deepening.
And, meanwhile, Remi wasn’t just working with Guiche, handling the three-way paid dates with him—the two of them, too, were becoming closer.
But none of the four men believed that a sexual relationship had to be an exclusive one. When it came to sex, they were all essentially amoral. They were hedonists, who placed a high value on pleasure. Recreational sex was, in fact, their preferred form of recreation.
Now that he was settling in there in Montréal, enjoying his new job and his new living quarters, Jean Baptiste wanted Maxim and Remi to come to his apartment.
“A housewarming, of sorts,” Jean Baptiste told them. “I’ll cook us dinner. Do you guys like Italian food? I was thinking about making lasagna.”
“Lasagna?” Maxim teased his fellow French Canadian. “Is that typical Quebeçois cuisine?”
“It is, when I make it,” Jean Baptiste said. “You’ll both come, won’t you?”
“For sure,” Remi promised. “What can we bring, to help out?”
“Just yourselves,” Jean Baptiste insisted. “And your appetites. Including your sexual appetites,” he added, joking. Or—was he joking?
Still, Remi didn’t want to show up empty-handed. He brought along two bottles of good red wine.
Jean Baptiste had moved into a fairly new apartment building, located downtown. Remi was surprised by how large the apartment was. It had broad expanses of windows, providing fine views of the city.
Jean Baptiste remarked that he was still fine-tuning the layout of the furniture, which was an eclectic mix of modern pieces—with heavy emphasis on steel, chrome, glass, leather, and woods with polished veneers—and the kind of old-fashioned, oversized furnishings which one still often saw in rural Quebec: a sofa and armchairs and ottoman, all upholstered in a matching floral chintz fabric; a rustic-looking wooden coffee table and side tables; an armoire. There was even—in the living room—a massive wooden hutch, the sort of thing usually found in a farmhouse’s kitchen. It was being used as a bookcase.
“These old things have been in my family for years,” Jean Baptiste explained. “They were gathering dust in storage. When I first left home and moved into my own place, I didn’t see any reason to buy new things, not at first. I used these, and they’ve worked out well. I acquired the newer things gradually, as I started making more money.”
“You must make a pretty good living,” Remi said, without thinking, before he realized that it was a rather tactless, personal question.
Jean Baptiste smiled. “I do all right.”
“I didn’t know how well off Jean Baptiste was, when I first started hooking up with him,” Maxim said. “If I had, I’d have made an even bigger play for him. Don’t you get any ideas in your pretty little head, Remi. Hands off. I saw him first!”
“Two dudes fighting over me,” Jean Baptiste gloated. “A fantasy come true!”
Maxim, too, had brought a housewarming gift—a pair of large, heavy majolica candlesticks, which, he said, he’d found in an antique shop. He’d even supplied a box of candles—and a book of matches, from CityBoyz, with the bar’s name and logo printed on the cover.
“I thought they’d go with the décor,” he told Jean Baptiste.
“I love them! Let’s put them on the dining room table, and light them. We’ll dine by candlelight,” their host said.
Dinner, accompanied by Remi’s wine, consisted of a tossed green salad and an elaborate antipasto, the latter containing prosciutto ham, salami, artichoke hearts, peppers, capers, and olives. Then Jean Baptiste served the lasagna. It was a rich, heavy multi-layered affair, filled with generous amounts of both ground beef and ground pork, and it had in fact been given a Quebeçois touch. The pasta and meat dish was flavored with tomatoes, garlic, and onion. The cheese layers, still bubbling from their time in the oven, were goat cheese. The sauce topping, interesting enough, wasn’t a tomato sauce. It was white—a variation on an alfredo sauce, cream-based, and flavored with herbs.
All three men devoured thick slabs of the lasagna—and treated themselves to seconds, and thirds.
“Damn, this is good,” Maxim mumbled, around a mouthful of the dish.
“Yes, Jean Baptiste, it’s wonderful,” Remi agreed, as he, too, stuffed himself.
“I’m glad you like it. Come on, have some more. Finish it,” Jean Baptiste coaxed. “But leave room for coffee and dessert.�
�
“In my experience, it never fails,” Maxim remarked. “The more macho a guy is, the better he is at domestic skills. You want a real househusband, to take good care of you? Then hook up with the most butch stud you can find.”
Jean Baptiste smiled. “What’s that expression? ‘An angel in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom?’ Do I qualify?”
“I’ve just sampled your cooking. It’s going to be a hard act to follow. I haven’t seen what you can do in the bedroom, yet,” Remi pointed out, boldly.
Jean Baptiste snickered. “Coffee and dessert will be served in the living room, gentlemen,” he announced. “And then we’ll see about what other services I can provide, in the bedroom.”
Fortified by caffeine, pastry, and some more wine, the three men did end up in Jean Baptiste’s bedroom. He had another armoire in there, to hold some of his clothes, in addition to a couple of massive, tall chests of drawers. A large wooden trunk sat at the foot of his bed. The bed itself was a grand antique affair in carved fruitwood, a four-poster, with vines, leaves, and bunches of grapes carved into the headboard and the footboard, and climbing up each of the four bedposts. Higher off the floor than most modern beds, the bed was equipped with a padded, upholstered bench, to ease access to it.
“My God,” Remi exclaimed, when he saw this impressive item of furniture. “I feel as though I’ve set foot on a movie set!”
“A porn video set, is more like it,” Maxim quipped. “Jump up on that bed. It’s really quite comfortable.”
First, though, the three men stripped.
“Now, this is my idea of a housewarming!” Jean Baptiste exclaimed, as the three nude men embraced and kissed, indiscriminately, intertwining their limbs. There was a free-for-all of lustful activity, a melee of kissing and groping. Sandwiched between the other two men’s larger, powerfully muscled naked bodies, Remi felt rather like one of the layers of the lasagna which they’d just devoured! And in much the same danger of being eaten alive!
CityBoyz Page 12
