Songs of Love : Books 1-3

by M J Calabrese

  “Marty, I swear….” Vince hissed and tried to slip back, but Martin’s saliva wet finger circled his hole and he came close to losing it. He loved the feeling. It’d been a long time since anyone had done this to him and he pressed down against that finger. “Please, Marty.”

  Martin pulled off Vince’s cock, but only long enough to tell him what he wanted. “I want you to come in my mouth, then I want you on your back with your long legs over my shoulders. I’m going to pound you like a piece of wood, babe, then I’m going to make you hard all over again. Now get this jockstrap off and let me make you smile.”

  Vince lifted himself off of his lover and stripped off the cotton covering his cock. Tossing it to the floor, he handed Martin the condom and lube before rolling onto his back. His lover scooted his way to Vince’s swollen, hard penis, licking it and teasing its slit. Taking as much as he could of Vince’s cock into his mouth, Martin pressed a cool, moist finger into him. Moaning his lover’s name, Vince spread his legs wider as he bent his knees.

  Vince started to pant as a second, then a third finger entered him. All the while, Martin teased and licked as many inches as he could of his lover’s cock. Adding more lube, Martin concentrated on massaging that perfect spot in his lover’s rectum. Vince arched his back as he groaned. His feet pressing down on the bed, taking Martin with him. Martin couldn’t help but be impressed with his lover’s strength as he lifted not only his own weight, but his lover’s as well, up off the firm mattress. He could feel his lover nearing his climax as the balls against his chin tightened. He slipped off of Vince’s weeping cock for only a second, “Come for me, babe. Come hard. I want you so bad, so bad. Please.”

  Again, he swallowed as much as he could and the next instant, Vince cried out and came hard, filling his lover’s mouth with cum. The wonderful, salty tang of Vince’s cum made him feel an almost unreasonable desire to own this man. He didn’t want anyone else to experience this man’s passion. He didn’t want anyone else to touch him, to kiss him, to even see him smile in that special way he smiled whenever he saw Martin enter a room.

  Taking his fingers from his lover’s ass, he pressed Vince’s legs up onto his shoulders and moved to capture his mouth in a kiss. Martin could feel Vince’s smile as he tasted himself in his lover’s mouth. He hummed his pleasure, huffing against his lips as Martin entered his body.

  Slowly, Martin moved forward, allowing his lover to get used to his bulk. He knew Vince was impatient and wanted him to take command of him, but he, too, needed this moment to breath and relax or their lovemaking would be over in seconds. He tilted his head, resting his forehead against Vince’s shoulder.

  “You, okay, Marty?” Vince trailed his fingertips over his lover’s jaw, down to this chest.

  Martin looked down into Vince’s eyes, “Promise me something, Vince.”

  “Anything, lover.”

  “No one but me gets this.” Martin pulled back and slammed forward, bringing a pleased gasp from the other man. “Just me. It’s one of my faults, Vinnie. I hate to share. If we go down this path together, promise me that you’re mine. All. Mine.” Again he pulled back and rammed his cock home, sending lightning bolts of pleasure to Vince’s brain.

  Vince laughed, “I’m not good at sharing either, Marty. If I go all in with you, then I’m yours, but I want to hear that same promise from you. I don’t care if you look, Marty, but no touching, no bringing strays home, no more whores or rent boys.”

  Again, Martin stroked in and out of his lover. He loved the way Vince closed his eyes, jaw slack with a blissful expression on his face as he drove into him. He loved the smell of sweat and musk. He loved the feel of Vince’s soft chest hair against his erect nipples. Moving in a trance, Martin found his rhythm. Their bodies fitting perfectly into that push-pull toward completion. His balls feeling his lover’s ass tighten and release as he yielded to being penetrated over and over again.

  Vince opened his eyes. Martin marveled at how they glittered, then realized they were unshed tears. He felt his own eyes begin to blur and knew it wasn’t the sweat dripping from his brow causing it. He felt Vince’s hand slide down to his own now rigid member and he started to stroke in earnest. Each stroke timed with Martin’s own thrusts.

  “You bastard.” Vince moaned. His hand moved faster and faster as it kept pace with Martin. It was all too much as Martin threw his head back, crying out his lover’s name over and over. Promising Vince there would be no others. These words sealed their pact. Warmth spread between them as Martin fulfilled his promise to make Vince come twice. His lover’s muscles tightened around his cock and Martin gave into his own orgasm. Groaning, he pressed in as deep as was humanly possible, shoving Vince’s knees into his own shoulders before coming hard inside of his lover. He collapsed, exhausted, onto the man beneath him, gasping for air. Martin could feel his own sweat cascade down his and Vince’s ribs, joining to be absorbed by the sheets beneath his lover.

  “Marty?” Vince’s voice was soft, but held a tinge of annoyance. “Did you forget to put the condom on before you fucked me?”

  Martin froze. Lifting up, he reached down to grab the edge of the rubber that wasn’t there. “Fuck! I am so sorry, Vince. I swear I’m negative. I got checked a week ago. I’m clean and I’m on PrEP.”

  Vince sighed, “How do you know I am?”

  Martin dropped down, burying his forehead against his lover’s neck. They laid there silent until the sweat and cum started to dry on them before Martin spoke. “Can I be honest with you, Vince?”

  “Always, Marty.” His fingers toyed with the soft, hair curling at the back of his lover's neck.

  “I don’t think you would’ve had sex with me if you were poz. Not without telling me. Even if you are, I don’t care. I plan on being with you and only you for the rest of my life and if you’re HIV positive, then we’ll be positive together.” Martin stroked the black sprinkled with gray hair that trailed down Vince’s abs, still moist with cum. “You see, I’m not sure I want to live without you, so, like I said. I don’t care.”

  “Marty, I’m negative, too.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Martin snorted and rolled to Vince’s side.

  Vince turned and looked into his lover’s eyes. He raised a finger, pushing a stray lock of salt and pepper hair from his lover’s forehead. “I don’t know what’s happening to us, Marty. We’re two late middle-aged guys who have gone insane, but I don’t care. If this is insanity, it is the most wonderful space to be in. Every time I think we need to rein this in, I can’t help myself.” Vince leaned in and stole a kiss. “I’ve never been treated like you treat me, Marty.” Vince’s stomach rumbled loudly and they both broke out in laughter. Then Vince grew quiet. Martin noticed his lover’s focus had changed and he was looking at something outside their window. He turned and in the distance the golden, sparkling lights of the Tour du Eiffel illuminated the darkness outside. Vince rolled, spooning against Martin’s back as he wrapped his muscular arms around his lover.

  “You’ve made my dreams come true, Marty.” He whispered as he watched the light show. “And I hope I never wake up.” Vince held onto his lover in the darkness. A small tear rolled from the corner of his eye onto the pillow. “I love you, Marty.”

  Martin sighed, pulling Vince’s arms tighter around him. “I love you, too, Vince.”

  A gentle smile caressed his lips as he realized that for the first time, he saw the beauty of this moment through another man’s eyes and it made his heart ache with joy. He promised in that instant that he would do anything to make Vince Pirelli happy.

  Chapter Seven

  The smell of coffee was the first thing to wake Vince up. The second thing was the delightful, hot, moist mouth sucking his cock.

  “You can keep doing that all day, Marty.”

  The moving lump underneath the white, down duvet laughed then went back to its work. Vince leaned back, tucking his hands behind his head as he smiled. They’d fucked like teenagers through the night after w
alking back to the villa from the restaurant. The meal was amazing and two bottles of wine later, they were telling each other their most secret fantasies.

  Vince closed his eyes, giving himself over to Martin’s sweet mouth. The memories of their talk and the sex that followed made his body ache for more. Unfortunately, his ass was getting a bit sore. “Come up here, Marty, let me suck you off. Let’s do a little sixty-nine.”

  Again, the duvet lifted a bit higher and Vince felt his dick grow cool. A warm body flattened against his as Martin peeked out from under the covers.

  “You, sore?”

  Vince shrugged, “I’m not a spring chicken anymore, Marty.”

  “Not a spring chicken? More like a tough, old rooster, babe, with a cock to die for. Sixty-nine, huh? Let’s make it a competition then, whoever loses gets fucked tonight.”

  “You sure you want to make that bet? You sure you want my cock up your practically virgin ass?”

  Martin moved up further and kissed his lover, “My ass has seen a lot more activity than I care to tell you about, just trust me when I say, I can take you if you prepare me really good.”

  “So you’re willing to walk around today with a butt plug up your ass, so you’ll be ready for me?” Vince laughed, pulling Martin up and into a more passionate kiss.

  “You brought a butt plug with you?”

  “No, but in a city of over 2 million people there has to be at least one sex shop.” Vince grinned, “You know, that might be a fun thing to do this afternoon.”

  “Oh, no, I have plans for today. First, the morning at the Louvre, then lunch at a café I know, and then shopping.”

  “Shopping? Where is the sex going to fit in?”

  “Where? Scoot down and I’ll show you where.” The grin on Martin’s face made Vince move even quicker.

  It didn’t take long for them to alternate positions and even less time for Vince to win the competition. Being able to deep throat a lover, especially in this case, was a definite advantage. A quick shower with both his and Martin’s hands on his cock, working in unison, was what finished him.

  He noticed Martin give his cock a nervous glance as he was drying himself off and he knew he’d never hold his lover to their bet. After his first night with his former lover, Avery, he had announced in his usual abrupt and insulting manner that there was no way in hell that his elephant dick was ever getting anywhere near his ass. He made it very clear he didn’t like Vince’s dick, but he liked his ass. Avery would make a big show whenever he jerked Vince off, complaining every time how much his wrist hurt afterwards and that just the act was so inconvenient. For the two years they were together, Avery topped him and expected Vince to pleasure him whenever and however he wanted, but when it came to reciprocating, the options were limited and only given grudgingly. Being here with a lover who gave as much as he got felt like a dream. A dream he never wanted to wake up from.

  “I smell coffee.” Vince came down the stairs, then abruptly stopped short. A gorgeous young man with curly, dark hair, and olive skin stood shirtless in the kitchen. His muscular chest glistened with the sweat of cooking over a hot stove. He could sympathize and it took him a moment to turn from the sight. Martin was leaning against the back of the couch, a smug grin highlighted the glint of humor in his eyes.

  “André? This is Vince, my boyfriend. Vince, André will be our chef today. He’s known in Paris as Le chef le plus sexy du monde, the sexiest chef in the world, or at least that’s what the magazine covers say. Right, André?”

  “Oui, Monsieur Kull.” He turned and gave Vince his most alluring smile, eyes at half-mast as he looked Vince up one end and down the other, then paused to take in Vince’s half hard cock. “Très magnifique. Je ne pense pas avoir vu quelque chose d’aussi gros dupuis longtemps, mais j’aimerais bien.”

  Vince smiled, “Mais êtes-vous sûr de pouvoir y faire face?”

  André laughed loudly, his face growing red with embarrassment. “You speak French.”

  “Oui, but don’t push it. I’m not fluent.” Vince walked over and gave Martin a kiss. “What’s on the menu besides a threesome with you and André.”

  “I don’t have sex with married men.” Martin pointed toward André.

  Vince looked up in surprise at the handsome chef cracking eggs. “Seven years married. Durand and I went to Montreal for a convention and ended up as husband and husband.” He pointed a spatula at the couple, “I would never, ever cheat on my husband.” Sadness creeped into his eyes, “Though sometimes he cheats on me.”

  “That man is crazy.” Vince grinned at his lover, “Marty, can I keep him, please? I promise I’ll never ask for anything else, ever. Please?”

  “I don’t know, Vinnie. André might be very expensive to keep, especially since he’ll make me renovate all my kitchens and we’ll have to share him if we can lure him away from Durand in a weak moment.” Martin smiled. “Fortunately, I can afford him if you can convince him we’re serious.”

  André stood up a little straighter, eyes narrowing, assessing them. He looked down to flip the omelet he’d started. “I don’t know whether or not to believe you.” André slid the first omelet on a plate and placed fresh cut fruit beside it and a second followed quickly behind. “But if you are serious and I call you one day, heartbroken because my Durand has left me, I expect you to fly me to, where do you live?”

  “Boston.”

  “Oui, Boston, and you will both take me to your bed and make love to me until I forget my husband’s name. Agreed?”

  Vince and Martin looked at each other, amused that their bluff had been called.

  “Well?” Martin nodded toward André.

  “Why not? I don’t think it’ll ever happen, but it gives two old queers something to fantasize about.” Vince shrugged.

  “Okay, André. You ever leave Durand, then you have a job as chef and the creamy center to our man sandwich.”

  André grinned, “I’m not sure I get all of that, but I am assuming you agree.”

  Martin nodded and led Vince to the table to be served the best omelet he’d ever had. An hour later, Martin was pulling Vince toward the door. The French chef and the Boston Diner owner couldn’t stop talking about food and recipes, but the car he’d ordered was waiting for them outside. He had plans and wanted Vince to have another memorable day.

  Thirty minutes later, Vince stood staring at Sleeping Hermaphroditus. “The detail is amazing, Marty. The cushions, everything.” Vince wrapped his arm around Martin’s shoulders, “but his dick is really small.”

  “Comparing him to me makes it seem small.”

  “Ooohhh! Bragging much? Pull it out, Marty, let’s have a dick off.”

  Martin shook his head and pushed Vince away. The rest of the visit to the Louvre consisted of size jokes or being awestruck by the beauty of a painting or a sculpture. Martin was amazed at Vince’s knowledge of art. He gave his lover a running tutorial on different artists and their other works. Martin kept reminding himself that this man had a Master’s degree from Harvard. He wasn’t just a night cook at a diner. He was on the board of a major corporation and he owned at least one ten-story office building in the highest rent district in Boston. Vince Pirelli may live frugally, but per Ray’s investigation, he was worth at least $100 million and only a small portion of that sum were his personal shares in PWM.

  They decided on lunch at Le Café Plume. The right ambiance, good food, and near enough to the Louvre to enjoy the walk. Both men were relaxed and had a good appetite.

  “Like I said this morning, I want to take you shopping, but we need to talk about this before we go.”

  Vince raised an eyebrow as he put the last bite of his crème brûlée in his mouth. After savoring it for a moment, he motioned Martin to continue.

  “I’m getting to know you, Vince, and I know you’re a proud man. You’ve always paid your own way. I’m sure this date is pushing the limits of what you’d let me do considering the perimeters of our current relationship.”


  “You’re right, it is, so what do you want to say, Marty, spit it out.”

  “If you decide you want to keep seeing me, then in the coming weeks and months, I am going to ask you to go to certain functions that I am required to attend. It’s all business related, but for that you’re going to need other clothes.”

  Vince looked at his lover intently, “I think I know where you’re going with this, but go on.”

  “I don’t want you to pay for these clothes. You’ll need a tailored tux from a name designer. Several business suits. You’ll need shoes and jewelry.”

  “Jewelry?”

  “I noticed your right ear is pierced. I want to get you a nice diamond stud, maybe a watch?” Martin slowed as the frown on Vince’s face deepened. “Don’t just say no, Vince. Please. I want to do this.”

  “You want me to be your personal Ken doll?”

  Martin glanced around before turning his dirtiest look ever onto his victim. “Only if I get to undress you later.”

  Vince laughed long and loud, “That’s a given.” He looked into his lover’s anxious eyes before admitting to himself that he couldn’t destroy Martin’s plans. “Alright, but when I say enough is enough, don’t push it, okay?”

  “Agreed.” Martin motioned for the receipt. “First stop Brioni and then to Chapal for clothes, then Berluti for shoes, then Jaeger-Lecoultre boutique and DeBeers.”

  Vince sighed, “God, Marty. Okay. Lead on.”

  After three business suits, two pairs of loafers and a tux that they ended up getting from Saint Laurent all of which were being delivered to the villa, when they hit DeBeers. Vince started to balk at the hundred thousand euro, three carat stone that Martin picked.

  “No, this I’ll pay for, but I don’t want three carats. Two is plenty.”

  Martin stuck out his lower lip in a pout and tried to look sad, but Vince wasn’t having any of it. “That won’t work on me, babe. I raised a daughter who tried every trick in the book, so that look…,” he waved his hand at his lover. “Has absolutely no effect on me.”