Brazilian Cattle Baron (Siren Publishing Ménage and More ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  “There,” Cristiano proclaimed. “I’m now suited up, as you say.”

  “And very handsome you look. Now that your dick is all dressed up, let’s take it for a ride.” As he spoke, Sebastien pushed his butt forward, rolling back to give Cristiano a better angle of entry.

  He stiffened and trembled slightly when he felt his sphincter being stretched by Cristiano’s wide, slick cockhead. There was the familiar ache of penetration. But the joy and the hot flush of pleasure he derived from Cristiano’s fucking more than compensated for the temporary discomfort. Sebastien could feel almost every knobby vein as it slipped past his anal lips, that prick stretching his ass as it drove like an oil drill into his body. When he felt the coarse-haired, heavy bottoms of Cristiano’s hanging balls touch the few hairs sticking up from his ass, he knew his cousin had almost reached halfway on his cock.

  Sebastien reached up, placing his hands hard against Cristiano’s arms and babbling out something neither man could understand. He wanted to be completely possessed by Cristiano, to melt into his cousin’s body while his ass ignited with pleasure under the ramming of that ass-splitting cock-club. He could sense Cristiano’s mounting sex-hunger as his cousin drove still further into his welcoming ass. Sebastien cried out again, digging his shoulder blades into the mattress, while he locked his ankles behind Cristiano’s thick neck and drew him forward with his legs and arms. He was drifting up into a world of sheer anal pleasure as he felt Cristiano’s right hand close around his dick and start to jack him off, adding penile delight to the mix.

  Then everything happened quickly. The two men lay heavily on top of one another, inhaling their male smells, bathing in one another’s excited sweat, listening to each other gasp for air as their wet flesh slid gently together. Then their movements increased until it became a frenzy of grinding bellies and chests, jerking legs and arms, pawing fingers and fucking cock. Cristiano managed to push his torso up a few inches from Sebastien’s writhing chest and belly. His thighs worked back and forth, feeding more and more of his cockmeat into Sebastien’s upturned ass. His balls swung back and forth, slapping noisily against the other man’s scrotum while Cristiano pushed his hands harder against his cousin’s sides. In an athletic fury, he pumped his meat ever more forcefully to his lover underneath him. “Ah, Jesus!” Cristiano moaned, snapping his head up, the cords sticking out from his neck while his face flushed red then drained white.

  His lips were pulled back until his mouth looked like a tight scar. His big arms shuddered, then collapsed as he lowered himself completely onto Sebastien’s body and began firing his cum into that tight, butch ass.

  All the while, Cristiano had been milking his cousin’s thick dick, using the drooling pre-cum as a lubricant to tease that cock up to full tension. His sudden climax drove Sebastien over the brink. While he dug his head into the pillow, nearly suffocating from the combination of sexual heat and breathlessness, he could feel his prick contract and spit out the jism bubbled out of his flattened nuts.

  Cristiano groaned with delight, and returned Sebastien’s sex-weary smile. He moved his hands up, caressing Sebastien’s arms and shoulders while he raised his head and looked softly into his cousin’s eyes,

  “Cristiano, meu amor. Minha alma é sua e meu corpo também,” Sebastien said, flashing a bright smile that revealed his teeth. Lying underneath the weight of the other man’s muscular body, looking up at Cristiano’s dark beard and full head of glossy, near-black hair, he felt his heart contract with happiness—and with renewed desire.

  “Beija-me!” Cristiano countered, sighing deeply as Sebastien instantly obeyed, bending down and kissing him passionately on the lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Five:

  Four Men in a Remote House

  “Cousin Sebastien,” Cristiano said one day. “Tomorrow morning, I really should go to the remote house, and stay there overnight. To inspect the fences there, and round up any strays, and so forth. You haven’t seen the remote house, or that part of your property yet. Perhaps you would like to come along?”

  “I’d love to,” Sebastien replied.

  “I have to warn you, it’s not very luxurious there. Comfortable, yes, but basic.”

  “I don’t care. I’m used to roughing it. What do I need to bring along?”

  “Nothing but a change of clothes, and your toothbrush. Everything else that we might need is already there.”

  Estevao, when he learned of Sebastien’s plans, wasn’t sure his master could be trusted on an overnight stay without him.

  “Nonsense, Estevao,” Sebastien insisted. “I’ll be perfectly all right. I’ll be with Cristiano, after all. You stay here.”

  “No, senhor,” Estevao said, stubbornly. “I will accompany you.”

  Cristiano was present during this discussion. “Oh, let him have his way, Sebastien. And, now that I think of it…you remember, Sebastien, the conversation we had on Easter Monday, at the dinner table?”

  “Oh yes. I remember it well.”

  “Perhaps we should invite Uver along, as well. To make up a foursome,” Cristiano said. “After all, many hands make for light work, as the expression goes.”

  The cousins exchanged knowing glances.

  “An excellent idea,” Sebastien agreed.

  At dawn the following morning, the four men rode to the remote house together, on horseback.

  Sebastien’s was curious about this feature of his property. The remote house turned out to be a large one-story structure, set in the middle of pastureland. There was a living room, a kitchen, and several bedrooms. It had most of the amenities, with a few notable exceptions. There was, for example, no electricity—oil lamps, or massive columnar candles set in cylindrical glass hurricane lamps, provided illumination at night. There was no central heating—wood-fired stoves provided heat on the rare occasions when the nighttime temperature dropped to uncomfortable levels, and were used for cooking. Nor was there any plumbing. When you wanted to bathe, you heated well water in a kettle on top of one of the stoves and poured it into a wash basin. There was an outhouse—actually a rather substantial structure, brightly painted on its outside. In a touch of whimsy, its interior walls were virtually papered with pages torn from magazines, glued to the walls to form a sort of ongoing, continually updated collage.

  The four men were met by a wiry, spry elderly man named Rafael, who immediately took them in hand and made them comfortable.

  “Rafael is, technically, retired and collecting his pension,” Cristiano explained to Sebastien when they were alone in the bedroom they would share, putting away the few things they had brought with them. “But he has no family, and he doesn’t really want to stop working. That’s why my father let him stay on and live here, as the caretaker of the remote house. He takes very good care of us when we stay here. He’s a good cook, for one thing.”

  “I like him,” Sebastien declared. “It seems like a sensible arrangement.”

  “As you can see, the living arrangements are rather primitive here. Are you sure you can take it, city boy?” Cristiano teased his cousin.

  “Just try me,” Sebastien retorted.

  Uver and Estevao took another bedroom, down a hall, and quickly stowed their things away in it, as well. Then it was time to get to work.

  They spent virtually the entire day outdoors, taking with them a packed lunch which Rafael provided. After dark, they returned to the house, where Rafael served a simple but hearty meal, eaten by candlelight. After a little encouragement from Cristiano, further fueled by a couple of rounds of alcoholic beverages, Rafael regaled them with stories about life on the fazenda in the old days. He had a stock of anecdotes about senhor Gilberto, to which Sebastien listened avidly. His companions had heard most of these stories before, and occasionally prompted Rafael. “Tell senhor Sebastien about the time—” became a recurrent catchphrase.

  As the bottle was passed around the kitchen table, Sebastien suddenly became aware that he was experiencing a sensation unusual for him—nam
ely, contentment. Working side by side with Cristiano, Estevao, and Uver all day long, feeling physical fatigue, tempered by a sense of accomplishment, now that the day’s work was done, and enjoying the simple pleasures of good food and entertaining company—these were basic, unsophisticated satisfactions. Sebastien realized that, in one word, he was happy.

  After dinner, Cristiano and Sebastien retired to their bedroom, taking an oil lamp with them. Estevao and Uver imitated them.

  “Whose idea were these sleeping arrangements?” Sebastien asked, when he and his cousin were alone.

  “Mine. Uver and Estevao did not object. Of course, if you are dissatisfied, we can come up with a different pairing. More than one, perhaps, as the night wears on?”

  “Aw, go stuff yourself, you big lug,” Sebastien retorted, in blunt English. He returned Cristiano’s grin.

  “It’s damp outside tonight,” Cristiano commented, setting the lamp down. “And there is a bit of a chill in the air. I think I’ll light the fire, in the stove. That way, we’ll be warm during the night…and we won’t have to wear a lot of clothes to bed. In fact,” he added, with a grin, “we won’t have to wear any clothes to bed. I want to sleep naked with you, Sebastien.”

  “That sounds good,” Sebastien agreed. “Between the stove, and you next to me in that bed, I think I’ll be more than warm enough.”

  Cristiano got the fire going in the stove, which was in a corner of the small room, near the bed. Then he turned the wick of the lamp down low, so that only a soft glow, a combination of the lamp’s flame and the blaze in the stove, filled the room.

  “I have a confession to make, Sebastien,” Cristiano said as he turned back toward his cousin.

  “Oh? And what might that be?”

  “I could have sent a couple of the men out here, to do what we did today. But I wanted to be alone with you, away from the main compound. I wanted to have you all to myself, with no possibility of interruption.”

  Sebastien smiled. “You’ve forgotten that we aren’t exactly alone. We have our two friends with us, and we also have Rafael, to act as our chaperone.”

  “And you may not have noticed that Rafael is somewhat hard of hearing. He sleeps soundly, and his bedroom is on the other side of the house. He will not be likely to wake up during the night, no matter how much noise you and I happen to make in here. As for Uver and Estevao…they are our friends, as you have said. More than mere friends, perhaps. They love us, as we love them. We are like four brothers. There is nothing wrong with their hearing, but I do not think they will be surprised, or disturbed, if they hear noises during the night.”

  “And did you have something specific in mind for us to do tonight—just the two of us, out here in the middle of nowhere? Something that would result in such an unusual amount of noise?”

  “Yes. I will tell you, in a moment. But come on, let us get undressed.”

  They took off their clothes.

  Cristiano stretched out in the pool of lamplight on the broad bed, naked, his cock already fully erect and pulsating between his husky thighs. He grinned up at Sebastien, masking his sudden intense arousal behind a display of bravado.

  “Hurry up,” he whispered. “Come here. Get in bed with me.”

  Sebastien returned his grin as he stepped out of his jeans and undershorts. Moments later, they were stretched out together on the bed, cocks stiff against each other.

  “Oh, primo, you’re so incredibly beautiful,” Sebastien murmured, running his hands over Cristiano’s body. His fingers were now calloused from hard manual work. “This was a good idea you had, us coming here today. This is so good, having you here with me, just the two of us in this bed…you’ve got such a nice body.”

  “So do you.”

  They caressed each other slowly, each man reacquainting himself with the other’s body and its responses. Cristiano’s dick bulged up, hard and thick, an obscene contrast to his narrow waist and hips and his two small, hard buttocks with the faintly shadowed hairy cleft between them. Staring at his cousin’s erection, Sebastien felt a surge of heat inside his own tool.

  “Take my prick in your hand and play with it, Sebastien,” Cristiano invited. “I like that. You know I do. And my balls, too—”

  “Yes, your big hot balls, your smooth thighs…you’re so fucking hot…I want to kiss you all over, lick and suck every part of your body, make love to you without ever stopping, fuck your butch ass for hours on end!”

  “And I want to suck your cock,” Cristiano blurted out.

  “You don’t see me stopping you. Go right ahead.”

  Cristiano needed no further invitation. His long-haired head dive-bombed down into Sebastien’s crotch, and he went to work with eager lips and tongue.

  Fuck! What a surprisingly proficient cocksucker Cristiano had turned out to be! And to think that when I first met him, I took it for granted that he was straight!

  Cristiano didn’t even have all of Sebastien’s cock in his mouth yet, but the milking pressure of his lips and his restlessly darting, hot, wet tongue was more than enough to turn Sebastien on.

  The mestre of the fazenda bit his lips as the pressure in his groin became intolerable. That familiar sinking, searing feeling of inevitable orgasm swept over him in a rush. He gasped, sat up, and tugged at the long locks of Cristiano’s mussed, sweat-dampened hair, pulling him off his dick at the last possible moment before he shot. Cristiano panted for breath as Sebastien lay back shaking, stroking Cristiano’s body with one hand, trying to relax as the near-orgasmic fury in his loins slowly ebbed away and became a mere excruciating horniness again. Drops of clear, sticky fluid had dribbled from between his cock lips and were running down the length of his overexcited tool. He had been very close to coming indeed.

  “Torture,” Sebastien declared. “Such sweet torture, your mouth on my cock!”

  “I will torture you until you confess,” Cristiano threatened, playfully.

  “Confess what?”

  “That you love me, and are utterly devoted to me. Which, after all, is no more than I deserve.”

  “No, that’s my secret,” Sebastien insisted. “And I intend to keep it. No one must know it.”

  “Oh? Not even Estevao and Uver?”

  “You’re right. We seem to have no secrets from them.”

  “Nor they from us. Perhaps that is how it should be.” Cristiano gave Sebastien’s cock a wanton lick, using his tongue to stroke it from base to tip, making his cousin shiver with delight. “If I cannot obtain a confession of love from you by using my mouth on your cock,” Cristiano taunted, “perhaps I can persuade you by other means.”

  “Such as?”

  “Fuck me in the ass, primo. Fuck me in the ass, take me that way—and then, when your guard is down, when you are besotted with sex, then you will tell me all your secrets.”

  “Hmm. That sounds like a plan, as they say.”

  “Then let us implement it without delay.” Impulsively, Cristiano threw himself on top of Sebastien’s body, and they began kissing and fondling one another again.

  Sebastien’s hands squeezed the other man’s buttocks, parted them, kneaded them, and then explored the hairy valley between them.

  “Finger it first, primo. I’m all tensed up. Loosen my hole with your finger first,” Cristiano implored him.

  There was a brief delay as Sebastien fumbled for the tube of lubricant he’d taken care to unpack and place on the table beside the bed. He slicked up the blunt-tipped fingers of his right hand. Then he separated Cristiano’s ass cheeks again and probed gently at the puckered rim which guarded the entrance. Cristiano writhed passionately in Sebastien’s embrace as first one fingertip, then two, entered his body. The lubricated digits eased their way through his tight ring of sphincter muscle, then massaged the hypersensitive inner anal lining with gentle but—Sebastien well knew—highly arousing circling, thrusting, and stretching motions.

  Cristiano panted hoarsely as Sebastien slipped his other hand between their bodies
, seized his cock, and stroked it. The firm pressure on his hard-on made Cristiano’s ass muscles twitch and contract, pinching the fingertips that Sebastien still had shoved inside his asshole. Sebastien worked his other hand more energetically, jerking Cristiano off at the same time. His palm was wet with the seeping emissions his cousin was leaking.

  “I can’t wait any longer, Sebastien. You’re going to have to take me. Please!”

  “No problem,” Sebastien replied, with a nonchalance that hardly reflected his own mounting impatience. With foresight, he had put a box of condoms next to the tube of lubricant, and he grabbed one of the rubbers now, putting it on quickly, with hands that trembled slightly with lust.

  They quickly assumed a position with Cristiano sprawled out flat on his belly with his ass cheeks raised high off the mattress in brazen invitation. Sebastien stretched out at full length on top of his cousin’s back and gripped his dick in one fist to guide it between the solid glutes he held open with his other hand.

  “Relax your ass and get ready to take my cock,” he said.

  “Hurry. I want it all! Plow it deep into me!” Cristiano begged.

  Sebastien thrust himself deep into his cousin’s butch ass, reveling in his total possession of him. Cristiano yelped as Sebastien jabbed into him, applying more pressure to complete the insertion, and then let his weight sink down upon Cristiano’s body to make certain he had fully penetrated that tight, trembling ass. Cristiano moaned under him, his anal muscles already squeezing the thick cylinder of throbbing cockflesh.

  “Fuck me, primo! Let me feel every bit of your cock!”

  “You’re going to feel it, all right,” Sebastien threatened.

  “Ah! How I love it when you penetrate me like this…when you possess me!”