Songs of Love : Books 1-3

by M J Calabrese

  “No. Just sit and wait.”

  “I hate you, Marty.” Vince joked.

  The wheels of the jet hit the runway and it slowed. With all the windows shut in the cabin, there was no way for Vince to cheat. It seemed to take forever for the pilot to appear from the cockpit and press a button to lower the stairs.

  Both men stood and headed down. “Vince, I want you to look down at the steps until you are on the ground, then you can look around.”

  Following Marty down the steps, Vince behaved until his foot hit the asphalt. When he looked up, he frowned.

  “We’re at an airport.”

  “Look a little harder, Vinnie.”

  As Vince looked around, he started to notice that all of the signs in the area were written in French. He started to feel dizzy as his breath quickened. He turned to Marty. Absolute delight brightened his face. “I’m in fucking France, aren’t I?” He turned and saw a sign on the tram that the workers were riding past their plane. It said Roissy Charles de Gaulle. “Paris!” He grabbed Marty and started dancing him around. “You brought me to fucking Paris! Marry me, Marty! I love you sooo much!”

  “Monsieur Kull?” A smartly dressed young woman and an older, thin man in a dark suit walked toward them, both extended their hands. “I am Juliette Dupré from Rouvier Associés. I will see to your things. Monsieur Duvall will escort you both through immigration.” Martin nodded and took Vince’s hand. A quick look by Duvall was the only sign that anyone even noticed. The older man showed them the way to a private waiting area while he took their passports to get them cleared through immigration.

  They made themselves comfortable on a cream colored leather couch. Vince looked around noting all the high end fixtures. “So, this is how the other half lives. We were rich enough, but my father always insisted on flying commercial. First class, of course, but still….”

  Martin fought back a laugh. “You know, I didn’t always travel like this. When the company was starting out I was usually stuck in the back of coach.” A woman approached offering them a menu then asking their wine preference. After debating white versus red, they gave her their order.

  Before long some of the best Chardonnay that Vince had ever tasted was being swirled around in his hand, waiting for a second sip. “How long does it take to get through immigration when it’s you?”

  “Long enough for us to finish this glass. I’ve dealt with Duvall before, he’s fast.”

  Vince took another sip, but then he noticed Monsieur Duvall approach without their passports.

  “Monsieur Kull, pardon moi.” He gently guided Martin away and the two men started into what was becoming an increasingly heated conversation. Words and gestures slowed as the two came to some sort of compromise. Martin left Duvall and sat down by Vince with a very annoyed expression on his face. Vince watched his boyfriend remove a gold ring from his right ring finger.

  “Apparently, you are on an FBI watch list.”

  Vince sat up, confused. “Why?” He rolled his eyes, suddenly understanding the problem. He sighed, “Gio.”

  “I told them you have nothing to do with the running of your brother’s business, but they want to question you. I told Duvall you are my fiancé and we’re here to pick a wedding venue. Take my ring and put it on your left hand, ring finger. Hopefully, it fits.”

  Vince glanced over at Duvall who stood with hands clasped behind his back and was purposefully turned away looking at something outside the window. Vince took the ring and was surprised how easily it fit his finger. “How long have we been engaged?”

  “Three months?” Martin stood, holding his hand out to Vince.

  Vince nodded and followed. It took thirty minutes for the French officials to believe them. Vince also had a feeling that Martin Kull’s name and celebrity helped get him cleared. Ten minutes later, they were at the curb and a black convertible pulled up. The ponytailed, Hispanic driver got out to greet Martin.

  “Hey, Marty. Long time no see, dude.” The older man kissed Martin on the lips before turning toward Vince. “Who’s this?”

  “This is my boyfriend, Vince Pirelli. Vince, this is Julio Hernandez, one of my former business partners. I took over his company after our affair ended, but he doesn’t hold it against me.”

  Julio laughed, offering his hand for Vince to shake. “I like to tell people, first he fucked me, then he made me rich. I’m the most expensive rent boy in the world.”

  “Don’t get jealous, Vince. It was a very long time ago. Julio’s company was one of my first acquisitions.” Martin wrapped an arm around Vince’s waist, pulling him close. “Julio lives here full time now. He’s going to take us on a tour.”

  Vince studied the long silver haired man who was already making his way to the driver’s seat. So, this was one of Martin’s former lovers, but he didn’t seem to care anything for the man he loved now. He knew they couldn’t go through the rest of their lives without running into people like this. They were both old enough to have a past and that included former lovers.

  “Vince?”

  Vince shook himself out of his reverie and climbed into the back seat of the high end Mercedes convertible. Warmth blasted from the heated seats and the heater on their legs. Despite it being the first of December, the air was only slightly chilled and the skies were clear.

  Julio drove like a mad man, but that seemed to be the norm with the surrounding traffic. Thirty minutes later they were entering the city proper. Vince stared at the houses and signs, all definitely foreign, but then Martin poked him and pointed up.

  “Holy Mother of God, Marty!” Vince grabbed his boyfriend’s arm so tightly it threatened to cut the circulation off. “It’s the Tower. The Eiffel Tower.” He looked at Martin with the joy of a young child seeing Disneyland for the first time. Martin leaned up to shout in Julio’s ear as the other man nodded and smiled. He took a route only the locals would know until he crossed the Seine on the Pont d’léna toward the Tower. Vince’s eyes widened as they neared the destination of his dreams. Finally, Julio pulled into a parking space. He turned, arm braced on the back of his seat.

  “Go ahead, Vince, go with Marty. I think you have a dinner reservation tonight, but I don’t mind kicking back here and answering emails while you enjoy yourselves.”

  Both men scrambled from the back seat and walked down the Quai Branley then to the Champs de Mars to the Tower. Vince stopped and looked up. Childlike wonder filled his eyes. “I am standing next to the Eiffel Tower, Marty.” He said joyfully. “I am…,” his fingers slid along concrete pylons that surrounded one of the iron legs, “touching the Eiffel Tower. Oh my God! Marty! You don’t get it do you? I’ve dreamed about this moment my whole life. My whole fucking life! Oh God, Marty!” Vince ran up to Martin and kissed him. “I love you so much. I… I have no words.” He looked at Martin. “I have no words except thank you, thank you so much. This is the best third date any guy has ever given me.” He let Martin go and ran to the center plaza where most of the tourists and pickpockets hung out.

  Martin saw a young man approaching Vince as he was looking straight up through the ironwork. “Crap!” He muttered as he took off at a run to intercept the pickpocket. Trying not to make Vince suspicious, he grabbed his boyfriend and drove his hands into the older man’s back pocket where he had his wallet. Unaware of the danger, Vince turned and smiled, throwing his arm around Martin who stayed a bit behind him. He caught the young man’s eye and shook his head. The pickpocket frowned and turned toward an easier target.

  “We need to take a picture.” Vince scanned the crowd to see if there were any Americans who might do the honors.

  “I have a better idea. Where Julio is parked, you get the tower in the background, the gardens, everything, and he’d take a great picture of the two of us.” Martin said as he started to steer Vince away.

  “Okay, but I want to come back. Promise me we’ll come back.”

  “I promise. You can see the Tower from where we’re staying. It’s beautif
ul all lit up at night.”

  Vince leaned in to Martin and whispered, “I’ve had a fantasy about leaning over a balcony to look at the lights while my lover fucked me.”

  “I think that might be arranged.”

  By the time photos were taken and sent to Jess and the gang, Vince was beginning to feel the fatigue. The bit of sleep he’d caught on the jet was starting to wear off and he couldn’t help the yawn as the two of them walked along the banks of the Seine. “You want to go home? To where we’re staying?”

  Vince nodded, “I am exhausted. When I was twenty I could’ve partied all night on a few hours, but at fifty, forget it.”

  Arm and arm they walked back to Julio and he drove them to a beautiful tree lined street. He stopped in front of a villa along the Champs de Mars. The aged stone façade stood pale against the well maintained, but currently leafless trees. “Well, if you need me again, Marty, I have a meeting tomorrow about two pm, but I’m free in the morning. Maybe you two could have dinner with me and Margery.”

  “We’ll see. Talk to you later.” He took Vince’s arm and guided him to the door and rang the bell.

  The concierge smiled as he opened the door. “Mr. Kull.” The crisp British accent shook Vince back into reality. “Mr. Pirelli. My name is Hemsworth. Like the actor, but sadly no relation.” He shook Vince’s hand and led them through into the foyer. “Everything has been prepared. André will be here at eight am to fix your breakfast. He’ll have fresh chocolate croissants and coffee awaiting you when you wake, then just tell him what you want him to make. The pool is unfortunately still too cold, but the hot tub on the rooftop is ready to be used. I took the liberty to make certain the master bedroom fireplace was working properly and it is.”

  Hemsworth spoke directly to Martin. “Your internet connection is excellent. There is a company laptop available for your use with security protocols in place. If you need transportation, call Marie in our office. She will arrange a driver and car. Will you be needing security?”

  “I’ll let you know. We have reservations for L’Herve tonight. Can we get a car to pick us up at eight pm and wait for us?”

  “Of course, sir. Is that all?”

  “Did our bags arrive?”

  “Arrived and unpacked. I took the liberty of placing Mr. Pirelli’s things in the second closet in the master bedroom, sir. I thought you might be sleeping together.”

  Martin turned and smiled at Vince, “Are we sleeping together tonight, Vince?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  Martin turned back to Hemsworth, “Thank you and I will be in touch. Just make sure the car is here by eight pm unless you hear otherwise.”

  Hemsworth smiled, then leaned into Martin, speaking too quietly for Vince to hear. “I’ve missed you, Martin.” He glanced at Vince, “But the way you look at him, is he the one?”

  “God, I hope so, Richard.”

  “Ah, well, I should’ve gone after you in earnest when I had the chance.” Hemsworth shrugged, “C’est la vie.” He looked over at Vince and smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Pirelli. Bonsoir.”

  The door to the villa closed and the two men were left alone. Martin sighed, “Uh, let me take you on a quick tour. This is considered a duplex apartment, three stories plus the rooftop garden. They had the villa separated, but I knocked out the walls and turned it back into a single space.” He motioned for Vince to follow. The first floor had restored parquet floors. Every room had eighteen foot ceilings with windows that were almost that tall. The December light poured through the glass, reflecting off the white walls. Comfortable furniture, both modern and antique, mixed tastefully throughout the area that was obviously meant for entertaining. Parisian art covered the walls. Two large bathrooms were off the main hall as well as a butler’s pantry. The crystal chandeliers looked old and Vince smiled and would’ve bet they were probably original to the property.

  They rounded onto a staircase that took them to the second floor. A modern kitchen and dining area took up a lot of this level. Wine fridges and an eight burner stainless steel gas stove with a French country style hood stood behind the marble topped island. Everything on this floor seemed more personal. Less cold than the first floor. There was an area off to the side with a large flat screen TV and a U-shaped buttery soft, sienna-colored Italian leather couch.

  Vince looked at Martin and his boyfriend shrugged. “It’s great for movies and popcorn night. The fireplace over there,” He pointed to a second room hidden around the corner from the kitchen, “is pretty romantic. My designer did it in a château style. The mantle surrounding the fireplace is amazing.”

  Again, Martin led the way up the stairs to the third floor. There were four bedrooms off to the far side of the house that looked out onto the sculpted gardens and then he headed for the master suite. Martin opened the ornately carved massive oak doors leading into the room. The first thing Vince saw was the view outside the two floor to ceiling French doors which opened out onto a modest balcony. To the right was the Eiffel Tower. To the left were the rooftops of the other sixteenth century villas that lined the street and the gardens that separated each place.

  Vince moved forward, mesmerized by the sight. He stopped, running his fingers over the cool glass then turned to look at Martin.

  “I have no words. You are the most wonderful man, Martin Kull.” He turned back toward the view, “I will never forget this.” He whispered to the glass as his warm breath caused it to steam up. A comforting hand came up and rested on his shoulder. Both men stood there for several minutes, neither speaking until Vince moved into Martin’s arms and kissed him. Suddenly, Martin felt the warm air of the room on his chest as he looked down, stunned to see that Vince had already unbuttoned his shirt. Busy fingers made quick work of his trousers and within seconds, Vince was on his knees sucking Martin’s cock into his mouth.

  Martin moaned, tangling his fingers into Vince’s hair and pulling the strands gently. His groin thrusting forward to take advantage of his boyfriend’s mouth. Vince let go of his lover’s hard cock and looked up.

  “What?” Martin stared down at the man on his knees before him, confused as to why Vince had ceased his wonderful ministrations.

  “I thought we’d do this after we had dinner.”

  Vince cocked his head and looked in disbelief at this partner, “Are you kidding me? You want me to stop?”

  Martin tried to keep a straight face, but failed, “Oh, hell no. Don’t you dare stop.”

  Vince sat back on his heels, “I have a better idea. Strip and I’ll meet you on the bed wearing what Eddie gave me.”

  Martin laughed. “That is a deal I cannot refuse.” Offering a hand up, Martin dropped his trousers and shirt in the middle of the floor as he moved toward the bed. Vince shook his head and picked up the discarded clothes. He folded them neatly as he walked toward the closet nearest him. He didn’t know if this was the second closet, but fortune was shining on him and he found his clothes hanging neatly on the racks.

  Pulling open the top drawer of the nearest dresser, he found his boxer briefs and lying next to them were two jock straps, one in the traditional white and the other in blue. Vince stood there a moment, fingering the material, lips sucked into his mouth. Was this too bold a statement for what he desired? Was this something Marty might like? Vince smiled. It was time to find out. He kicked off his shoes and the rest of his clothes followed. He went for tradition and slipped the white jock strap on, pinning his half hard cock against his abdomen. As he turned, he saw himself in a full length mirror. His smile grew. If Hemsworth had been this efficient thus far, condoms and lube were probably in the night stand beside the bed.

  Vince exited the closet and stood at the end of the king-sized bed. A heavy duvet had been thrown off to the side and a fire was burning in the corner fireplace between the two French windows. Martin looked up and his eyes locked onto the jock strap, mouth falling open. He watched as Vince held out his hands and turned slowly, showing off what Doris
considered his flat ass, but in a jock strap, nothing was flat. Martin lay there stroking his cock slowly as he watched his lover turn and climb up the bed between his legs.

  Vince’s head dropped and captured the hard cock that Martin released to him. His lips sealed around hot, veiny, silken steel as his tongue circled the deep red head of his lover’s circumcised dick, tasting it before teasing the slit, lapping at the precum oozing from the it. With his right hand, he wrapped around the base of Martin’s cock tightly and slowly pumped it as he lowered his mouth. His lover’s moan was enough encouragement to let him know he was doing it right. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Vince relaxed and slid his mouth all the way down Martin’s cock until his lips kissed it’s base. Sucking in, he slowly reversed, coming up to the head, but not coming off of it. As he dropped down again, Martin groaned and raised his hips to greet his lover’s grip.

  “Aw, Vince. Let me come in you, babe, please. Ride me, babe.”

  Vince pulled off his lover and looked into Martin’s eyes, “Lube and condoms.” He panted out.

  Martin pointed to the right side drawer and Vince crawled up Martin to get to it, his own cock peeking over the band of the jock strap. He stretched, reaching for the handle and stopped. Martin’s mouth was on his cock. Licking him through the material and teasing the tender, swollen crown. Vince dropped his head, resting his fingertips on the drawer handle.

  “Jesus, Marty, you’re going to make me come.”

  The vibration of Martin’s laugh almost did him in, “Isn’t that the idea?”

  “You want me to do it on your face? Keep it up and I will.” Vince leaned in and grabbed the condom and lube, but as he did, he felt Martin pull the waistband of the jock down below his balls, exposing everything.

  “Doris wasn’t lying, Vinnie. You’ve got a fucking big cock. That’s going to hurt like a mother when you cram that in me unless you’ve got me well prepared.” Martin sucked the head of Vince’s cock in his mouth.