The Fortunes of Fausto (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  It took several minutes for Fausto’s eyes to grow accustomed to the dim light. There was a hulking number behind the bar, who nodded to Gene as though he recognized him, and a handful of customers—all male, all sitting or standing, nursing drinks, with hungry looks in their eyes. The entrance of a pair of strikingly handsome young studs aroused obvious interest, and even without returning the other customers’ gaze, Fausto could almost feel several pairs of eyes slowly assessing, and undressing, his body.

  He felt uncomfortable at first, but being the object of such blatant interest was also flattering, and he caught himself holding his head high and posing just a bit, in anticipation of being admired.

  Gene bought two beers from the bartender, handed Fausto one, then took his elbow and guided him toward the rear of the bar.

  “Come on, I’ll show you where the real fun is.”

  They went through a doorway, and up a flight of stairs. Fausto found himself in a room about the size of an average bedroom, dominated by a wide-screen television set hooked up to a VCR player. The only window was closed up with two sheets of plywood nailed to its frame. A battered sofa and a collection of unmatched armchairs and folding chairs were arranged in a semicircle in front of the TV, and in the dim bluish light cast by the screen, Fausto could make out a half dozen men scattered here and there in the seats.

  On the screen, a slim young blond man, with an improbably deep-tanned, sleekly muscled body, was taking an improbably long, thorough shower. The scrubbing was obviously just an excuse for him to play with his semi-erect prick and expose the crack of his ass to the camera. The image wavered back and forth as the camera zoomed in on the guy’s wet-haired asshole and stayed locked in that position while the blond stud began to spread open his sphincter muscle with his fingertips and then finger-fucked himself. Fausto felt a weird mixture of repulsion and fascination as he watched the porno actor stimulate himself anally with such a complete lack of modesty or self-consciousness.

  “Look,” Gene whispered into Fausto’s ear. Fausto glanced in the direction his friend indicated, and saw a middle-aged man seated on the far side of the semicircle. The man had his trousers unzipped and his dick out, and, as his eyes stared fixedly at the screen, they looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. He was jerking himself, slowly and intently. No one else in the room took any notice of his presence, let alone of his masturbation.

  Fausto turned his head back to check the action on the screen, and was startled to see that the blond actor was masturbating his long, thin, but very stiff prick with one hand, while he manipulated a fresh bar of soap in and out of his asshole with the other.

  “Look at that son of a bitch fuck himself with the soap!” he exclaimed to Gene in an awestruck undertone. “Do you believe it?”

  Gene seemed amused by the whole scene—the shabby, dimly lit room, the porno video, the spectators, and the guy who was jerking off. “This is nothing,” he insisted. “Wait until they get around to some real screwing. Come on, let’s grab a couple of seats.”

  Blushing, Fausto fell silent again. They sat down next to each other on the sofa, and Fausto turned his head in the other direction, toward the doorway, to get a look at their fellow voyeurs. Nearby, two punkish-looking slacker type dudes, about the same age as Gene and Fausto, both sporting earrings and leather jackets, sat side by side, giggling, smirking, and poking each other in the ribs. Their forearms and wrists and fingers were moving in their laps much faster than the middle-aged man’s were, and even in the gloom Fausto could see the light-colored heads of their pricks moving up and down as they pumped on them!

  He felt a sharp spasm of pure lust in his guts as he watched the other two young men masturbating together, and he wondered whether, just as he and Gene did, they ever indulged in any other varieties of mutual sex play. He took a swig of his beer, the cold brew refreshing his suddenly dry mouth.

  “He’s coming,” Gene warned, punctuating his outburst with a gasp. Loud moans arose from other members of the small audience as the blond actor began to ejaculate, spraying his cum against the tiled walls of the shower stall. His fist pumped his prick dry of its load, and he turned the shower off, breathing hard. His fingers were smeared with his sperm. He raised his hand to his lips and began to lick the jism off.

  The screen went blank for a split second, and when the image came back, another man had joined the blond guy on a bed. The newcomer was a dark, burly, hairy-chested man in his thirties, stark naked and already pulling a condom down over his huge hard cock. Fausto gaped in stunned amazement at the size of the porno actor’s prick as the camera lingered on its bulk in a long, tight close-up shot.

  The blond guy began to play with it, making sure that every inch of the latex-sheathed swollen flesh was thoroughly lubricated from a tube of gel he held in one hand. There was a sudden hush in the little theater, broken only by the low sound of heavy breathing, as the two porno actors went into action. The blond stretched out on his back on the bed and raised his legs high, opening his thighs with his hands clasped to the backs of his knees. His partner knelt between his legs and began to push his big prick deep between his buttocks.

  “They’re fucking,” Gene groaned excitedly. “Oh, shit—can he ever take it! Look at him take that big dick! Every inch of it, right up his ass! And look at that other guy hammer it into him! God damn!”

  “Have you ever done that to another guy?” Fausto demanded.

  “Lots of times,” his buddy boasted. “And I’ve taken it up my own ass, too.”

  “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “It can hurt,” Gene admitted. “It can hurt real good,” he added, enigmatically. “You play your cards right, and you might just have a chance to find out for yourself.”

  Fausto absorbed this information in silence as the hot fuck action on the screen quickly built to an explosive climax. The hairy number had the blond’s ankles clasped in his hands, and he was holding his victim’s legs wide open as he pounded his prick in and out of his ass. The camera moved in close to show the way the blond’s sphincter rim was stretched wide open around the cylindrical shaft of his fucker’s grotesquely magnified prick. Fausto’s own cock was rock-hard, throbbing away like an overheated iron rod inside his pants!

  “Enjoying the show, guys?”

  Fausto jumped almost out of his seat at the unexpected sound of the voice next to him. He turned his head quickly, and saw that a man had slipped onto the sofa beside him. He was in his late thirties, not bad-looking, in a rough way, with beard stubble and disheveled black hair. He put his hand on Fausto’s thigh, and, even in the gloom, the young athlete could see the glint of a gold wedding band on the man's finger.

  “It’s a pretty hot flick, isn’t it, buddy?” the guy whispered, as his fingers crept up to Fausto’s well-packed crotch. His breath reeked of hard liquor. “Jesus, look at that blond bastard take that other number’s dick up his ass! Did you ever see anything so fucking hot in your life, stud?”

  Before Fausto could reply, he jumped again as the man’s hot, sweaty hand closed over the hard lump his cock made in his tight jeans. He felt the guy’s fingers squeezing his meat roughly, as though he was sizing up its length and width and thickness and degree of rigidity, and then a low, lewd whistle came from his unshaven lips.

  “Fuck! You’re hung, too, baby!" His fingers began to fumble around the front of Fausto’s jeans, searching for his fly. “Let me take care of it for you, stud! Let me whip it out—let me suck on the motherfucking thing!”

  “Don’t,” Fausto said weakly. “Hey—come on, knock it off!”

  “No, let him,” Gene urged him in a whisper. As usual, Gene seemed to be taking the whole thing in his stride. He leaned against Fausto’s shoulder, pressing his big body against his friend’s, and sipped his beer and watched as the older guy pulled down Fausto’s zipper and pulled his dick out of his open fly. “Let him do you,” Gene whispered, licking his tongue around inside Fausto’s ear, and sliding his arm around hi
s shoulders to give him a fierce, possessive hug. “Let him blow you, man. I want to see him suck you. It’ll be wild!”

  Before Fausto knew what was happening, the married guy was on his knees on the floor in front of him, between his outstretched legs. His hot, wet mouth was wrapped snugly around his cock, and, grunting obscenely, he began to suck. Fausto writhed in his seat, watching the blond porno actor getting his asshole reamed out ever more violently by his well-hung co-star.

  He could feel the rasping edges of his cocksucker’s teeth as he pulled his dick in and out of his mouth, could feel his hands squeezing his thighs, could hear his breath coming fast and hard and the wet, smacking sounds his lips made as he fed on Fausto’s meat. The married man was making so much noise as he sucked, in fact, that he was beginning to attract an audience of his own! Fausto saw several heads turn in their direction and guys staring at him—enviously! Whether they wished they were the sucker, or the one being sucked, Fausto wasn’t sure.

  “Come in his mouth,” Gene groaned, hugging Fausto tightly. He worked his hand under Fausto’s shirt and began to play with his left tit, which was already swollen stiff and was throbbing. Fausto grunted and threw his head back over the edge of the sofa as his prick spasmed wildly inside the drunken man’s suctioning mouth. “Come in his mouth,” Gene repeated. “Give the horny cocksucker what he wants, give him your fucking load! Feed him your scum!”

  A deep shudder of lustful response ran through Fausto’s body. The stimulation was all too much! He gasped, sucked in his breath, and shook his way through a quick, hard orgasm, his sperm escaping from the head of his cock like a fiery rain and blasting deep down the kneeling man’s greedily swallowing throat.

  “Oh, yeah,” Gene panted, pinching both of Fausto’s tits now, as he leaned over him to watch him come in the guy’s mouth. “Oh, yeah, buddy, give him that fucking jism of yours! Let him have it! Let him have it all! Drop your wad in the bastard’s mouth! Make him choke on it!”

  Fausto lay back in his seat, gasping for breath, staring at the flickering TV screen. The married guy was still on his knees in front of him, his mouth still passionately fastened around his cock, sucking and licking it, determined to drain it of its last few thick, sluggish drops. On the screen, the burly number had yanked his colossal prick out of the blond’s ass, ripped off the rubber, and was masturbating himself through an orgasm, his hot cum spraying all over the other actor’s face and chest in slow motion.

  Chapter Ten:

  Athletes

  Fausto awoke gradually, reluctant to throw off the pleasant sense of laziness and abandon that seemed to be weighing down his limbs. Abruptly, he realized that he was in a strange bedroom, in a strange bed. He sat up slowly, pushing the bedclothes aside, and allowing the shaft of warm sunlight penetrating the window curtains to fall upon his bare torso and his face.

  It took him only a moment to reorient himself. He was in Gene’s bedroom, above the garage, of course, and Gene was lying next to him, still fast asleep. They were both naked. Fausto gazed down avidly at his buddy’s nude body. Gene’s crotch was exposed, and his dick lay across the inner part of his husky thigh in all of its soft, naked splendor. Even flaccid, it was enticing! His legs were spread slightly apart, one thick-muscled arm draped over his chest, and the other—the one with the tattoo around it—resting at his side. There was a faint smile on his face as he slept, and Fausto wondered what he might be dreaming about.

  Maybe about their debauch of the night before, Fausto thought, blushing at his own lurid memories. After he’d stopped coming in that married guy’s mouth, the man had quite nonchalantly shifted his position, still on his knees, and begun to work on Gene’s cock during the next scene in the porno video!

  Fausto still couldn’t believe how Gene had gotten into the whole scene, performing with the same exhibitionistic relish as the actors in the porno video. Holding the cocksucker’s head between his hands and forcing his mouth up and down on his dick, Gene had spewed out a steady stream of obscene encouragement and insults, urging the kneeling man, among other things, to “choke on that slimy meat, you fuckface!" The more disgusting the things that Gene said, the more excited his cocksucker—and their rapt audience of masturbating men!—seemed to have become!

  At last, gasping and cursing, Gene had blasted his own load of semen into the guy’s throat, and then, with the movie still playing to its fascinated audience, he and Fausto had zipped up, and swaggered downstairs and out of the bar, snickering together over how they’d let the horny cocksucker service them both so abjectly.

  “I wonder if he’s going to go home and kiss his wife with that mouth,” Gene had quipped, sending both of them into convulsions of laughter.

  They’d stopped at an all-night café in the neighborhood for coffee, and Gene had explained that sexual activity went on the back rooms of gay bars all the time—as well as in their restrooms, and in the alleys behind them. Fausto still felt rather uneasy about the sleazy, anonymous sex he’d participated in, but Gene’s casual manner made him feel better about it after a while.

  They’d toured the rundown district, going into a couple of the porno bookstores just for the hell of it, and a couple of older guys, loitering on the premises and pretending to examine the lurid merchandise on display, had openly cruised them. But finally, calling it a night, Gene took Fausto back to his place. Pleasantly tired after their little night out on the town, they’d stripped and climbed into bed, falling asleep locked naked in each other’s arms as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Gene, Fausto distinctly remembered, had kissed him goodnight, with a strange sort of offhand tenderness, after their heads hit the pillows.

  Fausto supposed that he was in love with Gene. He stared at the other boy’s raw, naked masculinity and felt the usual hot excitement rush through his own flesh, more potent than any drug. He felt, in fact, such a sudden wave of desire for Gene that he wanted to hold him in his arms again, to give him his body again in any way Gene chose, and to take his in return. It was still primarily a physical attraction, to be sure, but it was no longer exclusively physical or sexual. He was hung up on Gene as a person, as an individual, as well.

  Now, in the light of day, he hated that anonymous married man who’s sucked off both their cocks. The son of a bitch had no right to put Gene’s prick in his mouth—not when Fausto was ready, willing, and able to go down on his buddy, any time, at a moment’s notice! Fausto also couldn’t help feeling some lurking insecurity—even half smashed, that older guy had done a great job of sucking him off. Maybe he was a better cocksucker than Fausto was, or ever could be. Maybe that kind of slavish oral servicing was what Gene really wanted. Fausto vowed, then and there, that the next time he had Gene’s cock in his mouth, he’d concentrate on pleasing him, to the exclusion of everything else. Even if he had to choke on it!

  He leaned over Gene and gently kissed him awake. Gene groaned in his sleep, then put his hand up, his fingers stroking through Fausto’s disheveled hair. He pulled the other guy’s mouth down more firmly against his own lips, and pushed his wet, slippery tongue deep into Fausto’s mouth. They kissed like that for some time, until Gene was fully awake and both boys’ pricks were throbbing hard and hot, trapped between their bellies as they instinctively ground their crotches together.

  “Good morning,” Gene said, when they’d come up for air at last. “I hope you slept okay.”

  “I slept just fine.”

  “Jesus, you’ve got a hard-on, already. Don’t you ever quit?”

  “You’re getting a boner, too.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Gene grinned at him. “How about a shower? I need it after cruising those grubby dives all night.”

  Fausto was slightly disappointed that Gene didn’t want to have sex, but he felt better when he realized that his buddy wanted them to shower together this time, as they’d done on a couple of previous occasions after their workouts. They stepped into the stall together, their nude bodies just about taking up all of
the available space, and Gene turned on the spray, adjusting the temperature to lukewarm.

  He picked up the bar of soap from its tray. “Want this up your ass?” he teased.

  “Go fuck yourself with it.”

  “Hey, you know who that actor in the video looked like? The blond one who liked to get fucked so bad?”

  “No, who?”

  “Coach Carlyle,” Gene snickered.

  “You’re terrible.”

  “Yeah, and you love it.” Then, dropping the bar of soap back into its tray, Gene suddenly gathered Fausto into his arms and pulled him close against his chest under the shower nozzle. His lips met Fausto’s and they kissed again, long and hard, with the warm spray of the shower raining down over their interlocked bodies, wetting them from head to foot. Fausto felt Gene’s erection press into his belly again as he ground against him in the slippery embrace, and in a moment Fausto’s own hardness fully answered Gene’s.

  “Oh, you horny fucker, you,” Gene muttered. His hand dropped down to Fausto’s turgid cock and squeezed it. Fausto boldly grabbed Gene’s dick just as firmly, and they played with each other’s pricks for a moment, kissing again, getting wildly aroused as their wet flesh rubbed restlessly together. The water continued to drench them as Gene’s hands stroked up and down Fausto’s slippery back, from his shoulders to his buttocks. He took a firm grip on both of Fausto’s ass cheeks and squeezed them, then slid his hands between their bodies and down to Fausto’s cock again, stroking it eagerly from its base to its tip.

  “You’ve got a fantastic body, man,” Gene moaned against the other guy’s open mouth. “And—you’ve got a nice big cock. I like that. I like you. I’m glad we got together like this. I think we can have a lot of fun with each other.”