Cock-Sucker: Around the World Ch. 05

She leaves me alone. She has things to do. I lie back on the bed, breathing deep. I won't be here long. The lawyer will get me out of this. All I have to do is kill a little time until then. Everything will be sorted out. I feel exhausted. Maybe I'll drowse for a while. When I wake I feel refreshed, and a little curious. I pace out onto the patio. There's a free lounger so I pull my T-shirt off and slouch down onto it. I still feel grimy with sweat and body-fluids, the pool looks inviting. I have no costume, but no-one else seems to bother, so I pull off my pants and swim up and down the length of the pool naked, sluicing away all the dirt, leaving me feeling cleansed.

As I climb up out of the pool I'm aware of the other guys watching me, checking me out. Their attention fixed exclusively on my groin. Let them look. I'll not be here long. I lay back on the lounger and let the sun dry me off. I glance around. There's a smooth-skinned black youth. As he sees I'm looking he rolls lazily onto his back so his big cock lolls into clear view, he smiles as my eyes widen. A little way further there's an olive-skinned boy who might be Thai, he has a nice little curved bottom, but intriguingly, he also has breasts like a girl.

Before I can see more one of them paces across towards me, his bare feet slapping on the tiles, to sit beside me. His body is shaved hairless, and I'm keenly aware of the close proximity of his down-hung uncircumcised cock. "Hi, you're the new kid. Here to replace José. He's a tough act to follow. He sucked serious cock. But me - I'm Fifi, anything you want, help, advice, or anything... more intimate, just ask. I'm here for you." His voice is high, flirty and more than a little camp. He has sparkly pink nail-varnish on fingers and toes.

"Don't worry about Fifi" laughs a third boy a little way down. "She's just a cock-tease."

"James, when I tease your cock you know its being teased by an expert" he flounces.

I can't help but laugh. I feel a little more relaxed by the non-threatening banter. I lay back and enjoy the sunshine. After about an hour Miss Ticque appears and impatiently claps her hands. The five guys immediately get up and head back into the rancheria. Fifi is pulling on a kind of diaphanous negligee thing. He looks across at me and winks, "must look my best for the clients."

I try to hang back as they line up. There's a guy in a business suit checking each of us in turn. I'm hoping against hope he doesn't choose me. He doesn't, he goes for the black guy, leading him away towards his private room. As he's leaving he turns back to us and sticks his tongue out cheekily. As though he's won the contest. We return to sit out around the pool. It's over an hour before he joins us again, grinning from ear to ear.

Finally Miss Ticque emerges and beckons to me. "Mr Wishbone is here. I've told him you're good. Don't let me down now."

I nod dully, and follow her pace by pace down the purple carpet, as naked as the day I was born. She opens the door and ushers me in. "Here's the new boy I told you about, sir. Make sure you return him well-fucked" she laughs.

I step inside. He's sitting on the bed. A rather overweight guy of late middle-age. There are perspiration rings around the armpits of his buff-coloured shirt. He's balding, with a straggly greying moustache. His smile is an unpleasant leer. I force myself to walk across to face him. He reaches out and takes hold of my cock, his skin like sandpaper, and he wanks me in long slow strokes from base to tip, then feels up my balls. He reaches down and unfastens his pants. Pulls out a long thin cock with a prominent foreskin. There's a bright bead of moisture glistening at its tip. He wanks me with one hand, and himself with the other, his jerky wrist-action becoming rougher and more painful. I brace myself, biting my lower lip as it goes on.

"You liking that boy?"

"Yes sir, I'm liking it very much, thank you sir."

"So I expect you'd like to demonstrate just how much you're liking it?"

"I'd like that very much sir."

He stands up clumsily and removes his pants. I help him pull them down and off. He pulls his shirt up clear of his heaving gut and lies back on the coverlets. "So show me just how much you love sucking cock."

It's imperative I get him onside if he's going to help me. It's important that he likes me. I sit beside him, and dip my head into his groin. Despite the roughness of his attentions, I'm erect, which he notices with approval. He is not yet hard. I reach out and gather it up into my hand. It feels slimy and unpleasant. I steel myself, open my mouth, and put my lips around it. It squirms at my touch like a slug. It tastes foul, disgusting with sweat and smegma. I swallow the taste down with an audible gulp, then suck more of it into my mouth. Because it's slack I can get all of it into my mouth without difficulty, massaging his ball-sack gently with my hand as I nuzzle into his pubic hair, sucking harder and more intensely. He grunts obscenely, and I feel an answering tremble of sensation as it stiffens reluctantly. I have to keep working at it, using tongue and throat before it's fully erect.

Despite my revulsion I get a feeling of satisfaction at my success, and begin running my mouth up and down its full length, making little moaning noises of approval. It's slithery-wet now. I can see myself in the mirror, the cock impaled in my face, it looks unbelievably vulgar. It's difficult to believe I'm watching myself. It looks like something from a low-rate online Porn clip. It's almost fascinating to watch, I slide the cock out of my mouth just so I can see myself running a sloppy tongue around its bloated head, licking and lapping into the foreskin. My own rock-hard erection bobbing as my head rocks in and out of his groin. It has no shame. It has a mind of its own. It's already tingling and leaking a tear of pre-cum.

"I expect you'd like that up your tight little ass now?"

"Yes please sir."

"You're polite and respectful, boy, I like those qualities in a slut."

I make sure I smile for him as I move around onto the bed, crouching down with my hips raised and my legs apart. Gritting my teeth ready. He lumbers around behind me, his sweaty hands pawing me, tugging at my cock and balls, smacking my bottom with a loud throaty laugh that breaks into a cough. I force myself to laugh too, as though I'm enjoying his crude attentions. It sounds unconvincing even to me. I feel his cock slide in. I'd pre-greased. It goes in smoothly, although I make sure I groan appreciatively, for his benefit. He begins fucking, breathing so heavy I feel sure he's going to have a heart-attack. It goes on for some time. Then he pulls out.

"On your back boy, on your back." I roll over. He shuffles up the bed ludicrously holding his cock-end firmly in his fist, red-faced with urgency. "Open your mouth, quickly now."

I lay on my back on the coverlet. He shuffles up so he's crouched over my face, my mouth wide open ready. The knob of his cock is deep maroon-red where he's squeezing it, its little mouth gaping wetly. He thrusts it an inch from my nose, then looses his grip, and a hail of white blobby spunk sprays in gloopy strands over me, the first pulse deluging my nose in dripping trickles, the second across my eye-socket and up across my forehead, the third finding its target and jetting across my lips and teeth, into my mouth and across my chin.

The sounds he's making, like a strangled pig, are almost comic. I make deliberate little purring noises as the ejaculation peaks, and subsides, a few dribbles and gooey strands oozing down onto me. I extend my tongue upwards to lap at the underside of his glans, encouraging a few further spunky teardrops to leak free. Then suck the messy cock-head down gently into my mouth, cleaning it with a slithery tongue.

The energy seems to leave him, and he flops down into a heap beside me. His breath rasping like he's snoring. I lie perfectly still as the milky fluids dribble and cool across my face. Despite the sleaze and the unattractive aspects of my partner, my body is on fire, I reach down, and a single stroke has me spurting, my own orgasm spasming up my stomach in long smears. At least that makes it convincing for him too, when he notices. There's a long silence as his post-climax breathing returns to normal. This is my opportunity.

I'm more nervous now than I was before. I sit up naked on the bed and reach for the contract that I'd left conveniently within reach. "Please sir, I wonder if I could beg your opinion..." and I get into telling him my tale.

He grunts unpleasantly, as though he's going to refuse. "You suck on my cock while I read through that contract, and it's a deal, boy."

Naturally I readily agree. He sits on the edge of the bed scrutinising the document, while I squat submissively between his splayed legs and suck... and suck. Either he's very conscientious or else he's spinning it out to get full oral value.

Eventually he harrumphs dramatically, like he's summing up in a court of law. "Well boy... keep sucking that thing, I'm not done yet. It seems to me that this document is perfectly in order. It's signed and witnessed. You accept responsibility as guarantor on behalf of your partner. He defaults on the money so the complainant is perfectly entitled to take possession and seek recompense. Until the outstanding debt is paid off, either by your partner, or by yourself, through your labour. What you have to understand is that prostitution has recognised status. In the eyes of the law, what you're doing is working off a legal debt, through a legal profession. Sorry boy, but there's no obvious loophole."

This is not what I'd banked on hearing. My cock-sucking takes on a more contemplative tone as I become reconciled to what's happening.

Eventually I release his cock long enough to ask a further question. "How long will it take for me to work off the debt?"

He whistles low through his teeth, pushing my head forcefully back into his groin. "Six months, at a guess. Give it another month to pay off interest. I'll help. I'll be back to use you again, you can count on it, boy."

Once he'd gone I lapse into a period of lethargy and depression. He was my last hope. Now I've nothing to look forward to. I lie in the gloom of the shaded room without moving. Then there's a knock. It's the olive-skinned boy who might be Thai. I've learned that his name is Tui. He comes in brandishing a mobile phone, and sits beside me on the bed. "For you."

Like a drowning man I snatch it from him. A text message. Nothing more. From Ivan. 'Sorry. We've sailed. Nothing sorted yet. I'll wire the money when I can. Sorry.' A terse, brief text, offering no hope. So he's not going to rescue me either. If they've sailed they must have a stand-in sparks in my place in the radio-shack. Maybe he's sharing Ivan's sexual favours too. As far as they're concerned I'm history.

My whole body slumps visibly with despair. Tui, sitting beside me on the bed, puts his arm protectively around my shoulder so that I find myself leaning in towards him, our bodies pressed up close together. I guess I'm on the trembling brink of crying out the depths of my hopelessness, and allow him to hold me supportively for long comforting moments. It's only gradually that I become aware of the closeness of our proximity.

"I'm sorry, I'm touching your breasts" I apologize.

"That's fine" he says soothingly. "Touch them all you like."

Curiously, I find myself looking more closely. They are small but perfectly formed. I reach out and cup the nearest breast, it fills my hand with a pleasantly soft warmth. It feels nice. I smile at him.

"I've not had much experience of touching breasts. In fact, this is the first time."

"You've never felt a girl's breasts?"

I feel my face colouring. "No. I've never had the opportunity. It never, kind of, happened."

"You can kiss mine if you like."

I reach down and kiss the nipple. It tastes of sweet clean perspiration. I bend down a little further and kiss the tip of his cock. "You're not going for the full sex-change?"

"Hell no. I'm not transgender, I love having a cock - hey, who wouldn't, but I don't see why I shouldn't have pretty girly-tits too. Do you like them?"

"Yes" I admit breathlessly. I suck the nipple into my mouth. It feels like a small hard penis. Then I go further down and suck his glans into my mouth, which tastes even better. Suddenly there's a commotion at the door. Fifi is there, hand on hip in a defiantly camp posture. He's wearing a pair of tight transparent panties that leave nothing to the imagination, with pull-up stockings held in place by pink floral garters.

"You two faggot cum-sluts. You just couldn't wait to get started could you, you didn't even wait for me to join in."

He flounces into the room where we are sitting coyly together in intimate embrace. Fifi reaches out to runs his perfectly-manicured fingers through my hair. Then he deliberately nudges his way in between us, jostling space with his bottom, then reaches out and takes a cock in each hand, mine and Tui's. "Now Fifi is here the fun really starts." He begins to slow-wank us, with a comical expression of debauchery on his face.

We lean in together. I can feel the comforting warmth of their bodies. The whisper of their breath on my bare skin. We collapse in on each other, kissing mouths and cocks, balls and nipples. We sixty-nine. First me and Tui, taking each other deep. Then me and Fifi. Then I watch as Tui and Fifi suck each other. Then we form a daisy-chain, the three of us interconnected in a magic undulating circle, it's so delicious I can scarcely believe the intensity of the feelings flooding me.

Me and Tui crouch together, side by side exchanging flirty smiles, bums raised, so Fifi can fuck us, alternating first one then the other. Then me and Fifi crouch while Tui fucks us. Then they both crouch for me, I slide my cock all the way into Tui's smooth bottom, pull it out and plunge it straight into Fifi's. Then switch again. Finally I lie on my back, mouth open, while they crouch over me, and Fifi and Tui both cum into my mouth. I hold their spunk there while Fifi goes down to suck me off, and we all kiss together, exchanging mouthfuls of spunk one to the other, and back again, giggling and laughing at our beautiful naughtiness.

And it's some considerable time later that I follow them meekly back out to the poolside. Some people might call them freaky-queers, but at that moment I've never felt such a sense of belonging in my life. There's no need of pretence here, nothing hidden or false. I've never experienced such affectionate closeness. Such openness. I've never had friends like this. I've never really had friends. I was always the geeky kid, the Johnny-No-Mates. And here, they're much more than just friends, they're surrogate family. We care for each other. Brothers and lovers together. We help and comfort each other.

Weeks pass. Reconciled to my future. Guys come and guys go. Sometimes they pick me, and I suck them off, or they fuck me. I learn to fake it. Sometimes I even get to enjoy it. Miss Ticque is more than happy with the way I've settled in, and with the positive feedback about my performance she gets from clients. I've already got a couple of regulars.

Mr Wishbone makes visits. I don't think he ever pays for sexual services, just checks out the rancheria's legal documents and tax returns in exchange for freebies. He favours me, and makes a point of booking frequent sessions for us. Mostly he just lies back on the bed and allows me to suck him off at my own slow indulgent pace, while he talks in an amusing cracker-barrel folksy way about his wife who would blow him when they were courting, but once she got a ring on her finger thought it 'wasn't right and proper for a married lady to be doing such dirty thangs.' So now I get to do what she won't do. I find myself looking forward to his amusing and entertaining visits.

I even see Luke and Eager every now and then as they make drop-offs here. They wave in a companionable kind of way, as though we're friends. There are weekly medical check-ups in case of infection, and precautionary shots. All my physical day-to-day needs are catered for.

Sometimes I lie in what I've come to think of as my room, and reflect on all the craziness I've lived through. All the weirdness that has turned my life around since first I boarded 'The Argo', since I joined that outbound tramp-ship on the voyage of my life. I think of Michel, Ma Belle, and how we sixty-nined beneath the sun on a French hilltop overlooking the harbour-berth just south of La Rochelle. I get a sly erection just thinking about us enjoying the Flowers of Evil together.

I think with warm affection of the taste of Nkomo's body in the warm African night-darkness, and the memories are so aching-strong and intense I yearn for his touch. I even forgive Ivan's cruel betrayal and desertion. He used me, but what we had together was a positive thing. He showed me the truth about myself. The secrets of my inner soul. He knew my needs and orientation better than I knew myself. Nothing can ever take that away.

Relaxing back on the lounger Fifi takes care painting my toenails. He talks while he does it. "James, he's raising funds to put him through college. Why work at a call-centre or a fast-food counter for minimum-wage, while you can do this, lie in the sun between clients, and make good money? Tui is financing his breasts. Some of the guys really go for that Lady-Boy look. He makes good money. Anton over there wants to get into Gay porn, so he's gaining valuable technique here while earning his travel costs to set up in LA. Miss Ticque gives regular clients tokens, collect ten and they get a free session. Weekends we have parties and one of us guys gets to be the lottery prize. You make good money that way. You keep tips, so it's in your interest to give customer satisfaction. You pay off your debt, with interest, in six-seven months. After that you're into profit. Another five months you get enough for a flight home to England... or anywhere you wanna go. Think about it."

"What about you Fifi, why are you here?"

"Me? Why am I here? Well, I guess I'm just the kind of wanton hussy who is queer for cock. I like your cock, you must know that. I know that each time your cock and my mouth are properly introduced we make sweet slurpy music together."

I'm thinking, yes, the more clients you get the better. You give satisfaction you get tips. I can do this. I've come a long way since that first night with Ivan. Nine months... a year. It's not too long.

Fifi reaches down and kisses the tip of my cock. I lie there, and let him...

By Tristan Trotsky

As the ribald story of 'Around The World With Nothing On' draws to a moist close, I hope you'll perhaps read and enjoy my other stories in the 'Cock-Sucker' series, you might care to leave a comment and maybe get in touch...? After all, Tristan Trotsky is not the Cock-Sucking messiah, he's just a very naughty boy...!