Brazilian Cattle Baron (Siren Publishing Ménage and More ManLove)
Page 52
“Who do you think you are talking to? Estevao?”
“I wish I was talking to Estevao. He’s a lot more cooperative than you are, in bed.”
“Oh, he is, is he? You prefer him to me, I suppose? Go and awaken him, then, and leave me alone.”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t believe he’s in his room. He and Uver had a date. They’re probably doing what we’re doing, right now. Estevao’s earned himself a night off—if you can call it that—and he’s also earned himself a little treat, which doesn’t exactly describe Uver. A big treat, is more like it. In any event, I can settle for second best, for one night.”
“So I am second best, am I? Ah, you smart-mouthed, insolent, prick-teasing norte-americano bitch! You’ll pay for saying that,” the bearded man threatened. “You’ll pay dearly, and you’ll beg for forgiveness—and for mercy—before I’m done with you.”
“I hope so,” Sebastien moaned, before he attacked Cristiano’s testicles again with his lips and tongue.
When he felt that he had teased Cristiano enough, Sebastien released his balls, one at a time, letting the spit-soaked nuts bounce back into place between the stocky guy’s thighs. But only for a moment. Not giving Cristiano a chance to predict his next move, Sebastien treated the full length of the other man’s stiff penis to a quick swipe from his tongue—before he drew both big balls back inside his mouth.
He suckled his cousin’s testicles until Cristiano’s increasingly desperate squirming and shuddering beside him confirmed that he’d succeeded in his objective. He had Cristiano at his complete sexual mercy and was driving the poor guy crazy with his mouth!
“Suck!” Cristiano shouted, incoherently. “My cock! Not my balls! My cock!”
He eased Sebastien’s mouth away from his balls—only to seize his bloated shaft in his fist and stab his cockhead blindly at Sebastien’s open, panting lips. Sebastien engulfed the glans of the penis with his mouth. He had given it no more than three or four impassioned sucks before it erupted, flooding the interior of his mouth with Cristiano’s sperm.
As he swallowed his cousin’s load, Sebastien gleefully surrendered the last vestiges of his own crumbling self-control. He grabbed his own dick and gave it the half-dozen rapid strokes which were all it required before it, too, pulsated hotly in orgasm and sprayed his semen all over the sheets.
“Fuck!” Cristiano roared. “Ah, you horny chupador! You drive me mad with your mouth!”
Afterward, they lay quietly together on the bed, limbs loosely intertwined, holding hands. Cristiano lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Sebastien’s hand. He toyed with Tio Gil’s gold and emerald bracelet, which Sebastien invariably wore, even when he went to bed. In playful retaliation, Sebastien reached up with his free hand and tugged at Cristiano’s earlobe, in which the matching single emerald, identical to the one he wore in his own ear, gleamed in its gold stud.
“That was good,” Sebastien said. “Not that it isn’t always good with you. But I think we outdid ourselves, this time.”
“Yes. I love the way you make me feel, primo,” Cristiano whispered. “I love the things you do to me in bed, how excited you make me, how you make me lose control of myself—I love you, Sebastien. I love you.”
“I love you, too, primo.”
“Case-me.” That meant marry me. “Yes, I mean it as a joke, but I am serious, too. I would marry you, if I could.”
“And I would accept—I think.”
“You think?” Cristiano exclaimed, suddenly indignant. “You are not sure?”
“It’s not the kind of a major decision I would make impulsively,” Sebastien said, teasing his cousin. “After all, would you buy a prize bull without giving him a thorough inspection—and seeing what kind of calves he has sired? Why should shopping for a stud to be my husband be any different?”
“You are without shame, Sebastien,” Cristiano declared, in a voice that was husky with mock rage.
“I’m safado—that’s all. And you’re very sexy when you get angry.”
“Well, I can never stay angry with you for long, we both know that. And I suppose I am safado, too. We must face it, Sebastien. We are two of a kind. Four of a kind, for we must include Uver and Estevao. We are a quatro. I love them, but it is no insult to them when I say that I love you more—that I love you in a different way. You and I, we are the same flesh and blood. But we are closer than cousins, really. We are brothers—lovers.”
“Yes, Cristiano.” Sebastien’s tone of voice now matched Cristiano’s—soft, intimate, and utterly serious.
“We are two men who love each other. Even if you were not my primo, I could love you none the less.”
“I feel the same way about you, Cristiano. I’ve never felt this way about any other man. Not even Estevao and Uver, as happy as I am to be in our quatro with them and you. I love you.”
“Yes, Sebastien, we love each other. You are my namorado, and I am yours.”
“I’m your namorado, yes.”
“You are the mestre of the fazenda, and I am your loyal servant, your right-hand man.”
“No, Cristiano. I may be the mestre of the fazenda, but you are my partner, my equal. You are the mestre of the mestre. If you insist on taking orders from me, then here is one for you—beija-me. Beija-me, primo. Kiss me, Cristiano. Kiss me, and never stop.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roland Graeme is one of several pseudonyms used by a prolific author of erotic fiction. Graeme, a descendant of Swiss immigrants and a native of Pennsylvania, resides in Buffalo, New York. He earned a Ph.D. in English by writing his doctoral dissertation on the novels of Sir Walter Scott (“Roland Graeme” is the protagonist of Scott’s novel The Abbot.) His interests, in addition to literature, include classical music (especially opera), history, and world religions, as well as, not surprisingly, human sexuality, in all its variety and richness. Graeme has been, at one time or another, a teacher, a factory worker, a civil servant, and a music critic. The one common denominator throughout his career(s) has been his passion for freelance writing. He continues to hold down his current full-time “day job” while writing in his spare time. Roland Graeme can be contacted at couesnon1@aol.com.
Also by Roland Graeme
Ménage and More ManLove: Algerian Nights
Ménage and More ManLove: Good Cop, Bad Cop
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com