Money Man (Woolf Tales Book 3)

by Viva Gold

“Don’t be a prick. I called to find out where you are. Gayle’s having a fit.”

  I bolted to my feet. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit…” I had forgotten to tell my mother I wouldn’t be home after the wedding last night.

  “Too bloody right, mate. And with everything that’s happened recently, it was a cuntish thing to do.”

  “Oh my God, I am such a bad son. I’ll call her now. I’m hanging up.” I went to disconnect but paused when I heard Izzy yelling down the phone.

  “What a minute, motherfucker!” I rolled my eyes. I hated when Izzy got all ‘street’ because it didn’t suit him and made me cringe. “Just exactly, where are you?”

  “Somewhere safe.” I was very non-committal.

  “With the Twins, then. And Bastien is with you, I hope?” The patronising tone grated on my nerves.

  “Not that it’s your business, but yes and yes. Ok? Can I hang up now?”

  “Yes. I love you.” Izzy hung up before I could say it back. Bastard. From down the hall, I heard another phone ring and the distinctive bass tones of one of the Twins answer. Fucking Izzy, checking up on me. I called my hysterical mother, full of apology and promised to be back with Bastien for an early supper. I told her that we’d be leaving to go back to my flat that evening to give her plenty of time to get on board with the idea. She had a few choice things to say about it, but in the end agreed it would be healthier for all of us. She declined to ask where we were as I suspect she didn’t really want to know, just as long as we were safe.

  17

  The rest of the week passed in a bit of a blur. We returned to my flat and got settled in. I had all the locks changed and installed a state of the art security system. I knew there was no threat to me anymore, yet I needed the precaution to make me feel safe. More importantly, I wanted Bastien protected. It was my intention to move once we’d returned from travelling, as I wanted a place that was ours rather than mine, but I hadn’t discussed that with him yet; I figured we’d have plenty of time while we were away. In the meantime, we were having great fun fucking in every corner of the apartment, making a whole lot of new memories in each room.

  Bastien had several more meetings with Myer the Tailor, while I got busy meeting with Davey to discuss his new job with Jason and Izzy. He seemed very excited and I was grateful to my friend for looking after Davey for me while we went off on our travels. Bastien and I had decided to visit Vietnam and Thailand, followed by Fiji, New Zealand and Australia. We would stop at Hong Kong for a short time, then fly over to Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia. Our trip was to end in Bali where we would be sunbathing on the beach for a week. All in all, we planned to be away for just under a year. After that, I planned on bringing Bastien back to be my husband. I was sure there would be loads of amazing opportunities and breath-taking venues along our trip for the perfect exchange of vows, but I wouldn’t deny my mother the thrill of organising a big fat gay Jewish wedding. I broke out in a sweat just thinking about it, but it was the least I could do.

  “Tally, mon amour, I am home.” I heard the front door click shut. “Can you come and help me, please?” I left the kitchen where I had been making a coffee, and trundled down the hall to the front door wondering just how much shopping he’d done that he needed my help.

  “Holy fuck!” I gasped. “Oh my God.” I gripped the architrave of the lounge doorway as my knees threatened to give out. Bas had been out with Davey for the afternoon, so I should have been prepared for him to come back debauched, but this was honestly more than my heart could handle.

  “You like?”

  I gawped like a goldfish. I had no words. Bastien was dressed all in black. He was wearing a mesh crop t-shirt with a leather waist clincher laced in the back. Under that his long legs were encased in fishnet stockings attached to a sexy suspender belt. A tiny leather G-string cupped his junk. On his feet were a pair of stiletto pvc ankle boots. Around his neck he wore a thick studded leather collar. He had made up his face with smouldering charcoal eye shadow and kohl eyeliner. His lips were glossy. Provocative didn’t even begin to describe him.

  I was a mess. My cock was rock hard in seconds. My throat was dry even though I drooled at the sight of him. I had never in my wildest imagination seen anything so enticing. The man was a walking wet dream on extremely fucking sexy legs.

  Bastien chuckled. “I take that as yes.” He pouted and posed. When he turned around I nearly died. His bum was bare and just where the G-string disappeared into his crease was a rubber puppy tail. He wiggled his arse and the plug wagged. I wanted to fall to my knees and prostrate myself before him. I wanted to worship every inch of him. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Bas,” I croaked. “Baby, you look incredible.” I sounded breathy. I sank to my knees unable to stay upright. He twisted his head over his shoulder and blew me a kiss. The light had dulled in the early evening. From the shadows of the doorway, he stalked towards me looking every inch the sex vixen he was dressed to portray. I swallowed in anticipation. I was living my ultimate fantasy. It was amazing.

  “Do you like my shoes?” Bas raised his leg and rested his foot on my shoulder.

  “I, I do,” I managed to stammer.

  “Show me.” His steady gaze held me enraptured. For a moment, I faltered, but he raised his chin towards his foot hinting at what he expected. Understanding dawned. I turned my face to the shiny pvc and licked from toes to top. Bas hummed his pleasure and I noticed him press down on his crotch from the corner of my eye. Once he was satisfied, he pushed his foot down harder on my shoulder forcing me backwards. I lay flat on my back with him standing over me, one foot either side of my head. The view upwards was magnificent. Fishnet for days. Suddenly he squatted and I was rewarded with a whiff of his scent as his crotch hovered over my face. “Play with my tail.” He tapped my mouth for emphasis.

  I reached behind Bastien and flicked at the rubber plug. He grunted. I tapped the base and he moaned. He shifted and rubbed the leather G-string into my face. I nosed his creases, inhaling deeply. “Take it off,” I rasped.

  “Hmm, not yet.” Bastien stood. He held out his hand for me and in a joint effort I was once again on my feet. He led me to the lounge where he directed me to sit in one of my tan leather armchairs. “Undo your jeans.” Bas stood before me with his hands on his hips. His raven hair fell halfway across his brow; he kept flicking it away from his eyes. “Wait there – don’t move.” He strode out of the room and came back several moments later, having tied back his fringe.

  “Much better.” I preferred his hair off his beautiful face.

  “Right, umm, belt, fly, then, er, wriggle out of your jeans and boxers. Slowly though.” I chuckled to myself. Bas was evidently a little nervous under that confident façade. That hint of uncertainty made him even sexier in my eyes. I got on with the job at hand, eager to be free of my clothes. My thick cock sprang out as I shoved my jeans and boxers down my legs. It was already sticky, leaving a string of pre-come from its tip to my abs. Bas pouted his glossy lips and bent to kiss the tip. He ran his nails down my chest paying special attention to my pecs. When he pinched my nipples hard at the same time as swallowing the length of my cock, I nearly passed out. I jerked in the chair thrusting my hips forward while he teased me to the point of distraction, without letting me come.

  “I’m hard as fucking nails, baby. Please, you need to do something.” I wasn’t too proud to beg.

  Bastien popped his mouth free from my shaft. The cool air felt chilly on my wet cock.

  He stood up to remove his G-string. He stepped out of it so elegantly, I was mesmerised by his movements. The heels of the boots he was wearing altered the way he held himself. It was enticing; like he was offering himself to me. Bas took the underwear and draped it over my nose and mouth. My eyelids fluttered shut as I was suffused with his heady aroma. Next, he undid the laces of the waist clincher and let it drop to the floor. It was nearly dark now, save for the yellow glow of the street lights outside my window. It gave the room a kind
of a sepia feel. Bas was surrounded in shadows giving him an erotic aura, and I was frozen awaiting his next move. He twisted around presenting me with his fine arse and cute little tail.

  “Pull it out, Tal.”

  I reached for the plug and tugged on it. It slid out from between Bastien’s cheeks very easily. It was shiny with lube and my cock jerked with the prospect of what that meant. Bas held out his hand and I placed it in his palm. He wiped the lube all over his skin then fisted my cock, making it all slippery.

  “Oh hell, that feels fucking good.” I snapped my hips forward.

  “Non!” Bas berated me. He punished me by releasing his hold on my obscenely swollen shaft. I don’t recall ever having been so hard and needy. I was prepared to beg once again, but before I could, Bas swayed seductively nearer. He narrowed his eyes at me as if in deep thought, then he lowered his face to mine and kissed me long and hard. I felt sure he was going to straddle me but at the last moment he turned around presenting me with his luscious arse. I placed my hands on each cheek and spread him open. His hole was shiny from the lube; it twitched and pulsed enticingly. I ran my fingers up and down his crease and over his glistening pink pucker. Seductive little noises huffed and puffed out of him. He slid his hands down his legs to clasp his ankles giving me free reign on his gaping hole.

  “Sit on me, baby. Ride me hard.” With my hands around Bas’s waist, I pulled him back onto my lap. He reached behind to hold my stiff erection in place, then he sank down taking me all the way to the hilt. We both cried out loud. “Yes! Yes!” I shouted. Bas gyrated and I felt my eyes roll back in my head. He was hot and tight and so bloody sexy. I was the luckiest man alive. He spread his legs a bit more and leaned his hands on his knees. He twisted his upper body around and winked as he lifted and lowered his body slightly, tormenting me with slow fucks and hard clenches. I tried to buck into each one of his grinds, but he was intent on driving me insane, setting the pace and keeping me on edge.

  The flat was quiet aside from our lewd grunts, the squishy noise of the lube easing our passage to ecstasy, and an annoyingly persistent car alarm outside. The air was heady with the stench of our sweat. The room was shadowy from the diminishing daylight, and steamy humid from the efforts of our love making. I felt slutty and debauched; Bas look wanton as fuck - it couldn’t have been more perfect.

  “Ride me hard, baby,” I demanded. I reached around Bastien’s body and slid my hands over the mesh covering his chest, letting my fingers search out the hard peaks of his tits. His nipples were small, pink discs of delight. He was hypersensitive there, so that when I pinched them hard, he cried out and jerked. The sudden movement caused his channel to clench and I cursed loudly at the exquisite sensation. I rubbed at his nipples eliciting a burst of frenzied bouncing on my lap. We both shouted and swore as we fought our way to the heights of pleasure. I watched Bastien’s peachy bubble butt jiggle as he impaled himself over and over until…

  “Merde! Mon fucking Dieu!!!”

  Bastien froze for a heart stopping moment before launching into a full-on body shudder as he came violently. I felt his arse pulse around my cock, literally coaxing the orgasm out of me in an explosion of light and ecstasy. I grabbed Bastien’s shoulders holding him to my lap as I shot my hot load deep into him. My balls felt drained as my cock continued to expel copious amounts of come into Bas’s hole. He fell back onto my chest trembling and whimpering. I closed my arms around him and held him tight, feeling uncommonly emotional. I dipped my face into the crease of his neck and nuzzled him softly.

  “I love you baby boy. I mean it Bastien – you’ve become my whole life. I promise to give you everything you deserve.”

  Bastien scrambled around to face me. My cock popped out of his bum and I felt my come leak out of him and down my legs. It made me feel weirdly territorial. I was shocked when he reached for the plug and shoved the tail back into his hole. “Want to keep you inside of me a little bit longer,” he explained. High colour tinged his cheeks and he lowered his eyes coyly. My heart swelled with pride and awe. He had gone from sex vixen to shy boy in a swift about turn. I loved that about him.

  “Je t’aime aussi, Tally. More than I ever thought was possible to love one person. You have already saved me many times over. I was just a shell when I met you, and since then you have filled me with ideas, encouragement, love, ambition and hope.” He giggled. “And come! So many times, Dieu!” I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Merci, mon cher; merci beaucoup.”

  We held each other close for a little while longer, sharing intimate thoughts and chaste kisses. The world was waiting for us to re-emerge stronger than before, a testament to the power of two men in love. Low life criminals, nightmares, and panic attacks could take a hike. Together, Bastien and I would conquer our fears through fresh experiences and brand-new memories. All we needed was time, the continued love and support of our friends and my family, and each other.

  “I’m all sticky and stinky,” I complained to a snoozing Bastien, curled up like a cute little sex kitten on my lap.

  “Yes, you are,” he agreed sleepily, quite content to stay exactly where he was. I sighed. I was so whipped.

  18

  The Wedding

  Six weeks after Bastien and I arrived home from Bali, was the day of our wedding. Gay marriage was not condoned in the Jewish religion, but Izzy had a friend who was a struck off rabbi, and he’d agreed to perform a little ceremony under a chuppah, after the registry office. I wasn’t privy as to his fall from grace, but Adam had disclosed that the rabbi was a sub at Izzy’s club. I suppose one of his congregants discovered their pious leader was calling out to God in an entirely illicit manner, unbecoming of a holy man. Once that vision had taken root, it was the only thing I could think of every time we met with him. Chained and restrained while reciting his prayers in Hebrew. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. Especially as he was an orthodox guy; long beard, black hat and all. The hypocrisy was off the scale; not only was the entire proceeding redundant but it cost me two fucking grand to have him there. Ultimately, I knew it would make my parents happy to see us blessed in the traditional manner, which was the only reason I’d agreed to go along with such a fiasco.

  Bastien and I had spent a phenomenal year abroad. We’d visited exotic places and experienced amazing things. We’d met beautiful people along the way and made friends from all around this crazy world of ours. It was cathartic and precisely what we needed before settling down. We were still in my apartment while the new house we had found was being re-modelled and decorated. I’d decided to keep the flat and rent it out for the time being.

  I had met with several fellow brokers since I’d been home but had decided to stay on my own because I wanted the freedom to pick and choose who I worked for with probably more caution than a partner would tolerate. Davey still had a few months to go with Jason, then he promised to come back and work for me. We were both excited to create something new. In the meantime, I was networking and spending time managing our renovation project.

  Bastien was busy with Myer. He was a natural and had even surprised me by making our wedding suits. The old man had taken him under his wing willingly, treating Bastien much the same as his several grandchildren. Myer had hinted that none of his children or grandchildren were interested in taking over his tailoring services when he retired, which meant he was pretty much grooming Bastien for the role. It was plainly evident that my husband-to-be relished being indulged by Myer, who he worshipped and adored. It made me unbelievably happy and grateful to see him so enthused and relaxed.

  So here I stood, under the white silk chuppah canopy, with soft music playing in the background. My heart was thumping in my chest and I felt giddy with excitement. I had convinced myself I was doing this for my parents, but if I was honest, I couldn’t wait to see Bas walk down the aisle towards me. We were inside a top London hotel in their sprauntzy ballroom. My mother had the time of her life organising the entire do and I was relieved to note there
was not one rainbow or unicorn in sight. It was a classy affair; not so different to my sister’s wedding.

  The music changed. A wedding singer sang a familiar traditional Jewish song in Hebrew rendering the guests still and silent. Everyone knew it was time for the proceedings to begin. My parents were under the chuppah with me, and Bas had chosen Adam and Angel to stand for him. Myer was to give him away. Izzy stood by my side as best man, plus we’d asked Jason, Davey and the Twins to be ushers. I felt blessed to have so many wonderful people around me.

  Izzy nudged me. I turned to him to see him tip his chin to the far side of the room. The door opened to reveal my groom. He held a small bouquet of white roses in one hand with the other threaded though Myer’s crooked arm. I held my breath as he made his entrance. Tears sprang to my eyes as he made his way towards me beside a beaming Myer. My Bastien looked stunning.

  “Hey,” I mouthed to him. He smiled back at me. His beautiful amber eyes shone in his gorgeous face. His hair was styled, by Ron, into a trendy quiff and he’d never looked more handsome. We both wore black tuxedos, but where mine was more of a classic fit, Bastien’s was much tighter and had fancy accents. The lapels of the jacket and the front of his waistcoat were adorned with a brocade dotted with tiny diamantes that sparkled as they hit the light. His tie was more of a cravat style as opposed to my bow tie, and it was white to match his shirt. His trousers finished at his ankles and he wore patent Gucci loafers with no socks. He was quite simply breath taking. Bas was glowing with happiness, and I couldn’t wait to make him my husband.

  We said our vows, exchanged rings, and received the blessings from the rabbi. I smashed a glass under my foot, as was the tradition for a Jewish groom, and cries of ‘mazal tov’ and ‘congratulations’ rang around the room. My parents kissed us both and promised to love and support us always, causing tears to sting my eyes once more. Bastien gripped my hand. He leaned his head on my shoulder and I kissed the side of his head. I noticed he’d worn a yarmulke which touched me deeply. His respect for my traditions ran deep and I suspected Myer had also been counselling him on the many quirks of Jewish life.