Come Me Mr. Sax Man Ch. 05

"Yes."

"In spite of yourself?"

"Yes, a bit, yes. I don't know why you are spending this time and effort on me. You could have any of a number of innocent men on this ship. Why me, a well-used whore, as you yourself have said?"

"You arouse me as no one else I've seen on this ship has done. And as I've said before, each time I fuck you, you give yourself completely. You don't fuck like a whore. You make me happy."

"Do you do that—the binding and the toys—with all of the young men you fuck? Did you do it with that Stuart you were with today?"

"No, on this cruise just you. They are too fresh, would be too frightened, I think. That's why I have gravitated to you and wanted to be with you again. Sometimes I want to be particularly inventive, and I want to know that it will be with someone who won't be damaged."

"I'm glad then that you too are getting pleasure out of this," Trent said.

"Will your troupe be on the next cruise on this ship?" the Brazilian asked.

"Yes, it will." Trent went no further. On the tender back, Buzz had mentioned some plans that might keep Trent from continuing with the troop, but he had not been specific, and the idea had concerned Trent enough that he hadn't pursued it yet.

"I will be staying on the ship too. If it pleases you and you grow tired of the quarters they give you, you may stay here with me."

"Here, with you? Are you saying you would devote all of your attention to me?"

"I think we can make accommodations," the Brazilian said with a smile.

"The variety you speak of needing. Are you suggesting threesomes?"

"Would you shrink from that, if I were?"

Trent paused before answering, but then he had to be honest. "No, I don't suppose so. But my plans after this cruise aren't settled."

"As it happens, I wasn't suggesting that," the Brazilian said quietly. "I was suggesting that I am so taken with you that as long as you were with me, I would need no one else."

Taken aback, Trent couldn't think of anything to say to this. But he didn't have to. Almost as if he had revealed too much of his true feelings, the Brazilian gave a little laugh, stood up from the table, and said, "My turn in the shower now."

While he was showering, Trent moved around the cabin as if in a daze. What was he being offered? Two men seemed to be offering him more than he'd ever been offered by a man before. He found himself standing by the table. His hand brushed the camera and he picked it up and started scrolling through the photos. There were four young men in the frames, including the steward for this suite. All taken here, all provocative, naked poses. Two of the men were photographed while the Brazilian obviously was standing between their legs and fucking them. All seemed as impressed by the Brazilian's sexual powers as Trent had been.

Could the Brazilian concentrate on just one man? For that matter, could he himself do it either? Trent realized that the question applied as much to Buzz as to the Brazilian.

The Brazilian was standing in the door of the bathroom, naked, once more in full erection. Trent trembled at the sight of the thick penis ring—and at the magnificent, mature, well-muscled body. The enticement was almost overwhelming.

It was obvious that the Brazilian had seen him scanning through the photographs.

"When all is said and done, I'm a whore because I like to be fucked by men—many men," Trent said quietly, choosing to close down on any possibility of permanence with the man, no matter how arousing he and his sexual expertise were.

"I would not question who you fucked besides me or how often," the Brazilian answered, refusing to let that door close. "That is the whore in you that attracts me—the freedom and exuberance to be as one with me, a fully committed lover, and yet to fuck other men too. It's what I have always wanted for myself—perhaps until now—so I would not deny it for you. I can tell you what I think I'd be capable of doing when you were with me, but I can't make promises any more than I would ask you to."

Twilight was falling over the water, and the Brazilian was sitting in one of the patio chairs on the balcony, facing the white-capped waves. His cock was sheathed with a Trojan Ultra Ribbed, and Trent was sitting on it, also facing out toward the ocean. The Brazilian held the dancer close into his body with one arm encasing his belly. He held one of the egg-shaped devices in his hand that Trent had seen on the nightstand earlier.

"Have you used one of these?" the Brazilian asked. "It's a Tenga Egg. They come in various 'experiences.'"

"No I haven't," Trent answered, much of his attention going to the rib-sheathed cock buried up his channel. He was slowly rising and falling on the cock and, from time to time, rotating his hips on it. Both he and the Brazilian were panting—in the beginning stage of what both knew would end in a wild fuck.

Trent watched, in fascination, as the Brazilian peeled a strip down the side of the egg, revealing a plastic container that the older man pulled apart to reveal a soft plastic oval-shaped substance inside.

"I chose the silk one," the Brazilian said. "It should be a sensation you haven't enjoyed yet this evening." He took the plastic substance out of the container and cast the container aside. There was a hole in one end of the egg-like shape from which he extracted a vial, filled with some sort of oil. He flipped the top of that off and poured oil around the rim of the opening, allowing it to seep into the hole.

While Trent watched and began to tremble, the Brazilian cast the vial away and then moved the opening to the bulb of Trent's hard cock.

"Oh shit, oh fuck!" Trent exclaimed as the Brazilian placed the hole in the egg on the head of Trent's bulb and pulled the substance down on the cock. It lost its egg shape as the Brazilian pulled it the full length of the encased cock and then returned to that shape as the Brazilian pulled it back to the head of Trent's cock. Down on the cock and then back up to the head. And repeat. Trent cried out at the feel of what he could only describe as silky waves on his cock as the Brazilian pumped the pliable substance up and down on the cock, masturbating Trent with a sensual sensation the young man had never experienced before and could hardly describe.

Trent was purring and moaning and writhing within the Brazilian's strong grip. He turned his face toward the Brazilian's and their lips locked as the Brazilian pulled the tight, silky cylinder up and down the cock in strong, quick, relentless strokes until, with a cry, Trent ejaculated inside the egg.

The Brazilian pulled the egg off the cock, tossed it aside, pushed Trent's torso forward so that Trent could clutch the balcony railing, as, grabbing his waist with strong hands, The Brazilian started to pull and push Trent's channel on his own cock in a vigorous, deep-reaching, and frenzied, but not long, march to his own ejaculation.

Night had fallen and the Brazilian was guiding Trent to the cabin door. After the fuck on the balcony, the Brazilian had ordered nightcaps and a tray of sandwiches while Trent showered, and then the two of them sat and chatted about nothing in particular for an hour. It was as if they were just friends meeting at a café to catch up on each other's life rather than cooling down from a several-hours session of the Brazilian playing Trent's body with sexual invention.

When the conversation wore down, the Brazilian left for a brief shower and Trent dressed and sat back down at the table, When the Brazilian came out of the shower again, he just had a towel around his waist. He came up beside Trent, cupped Trent's chin in a hand, turned his face up, and leaned down and kissed Trent on the lips.

"Thank you. Thank you for surrendering your body fully to my lusts," he murmured.

In answer, Trent moved his hand into the opening of the towel around the Brazilian's waist and took hold of the older man's cock.

"Enough, I think. I have already asked too much of you. You must be exhausted, and I'm sure you've had more than enough of my attentions, but I have enjoyed using your body more than I can ever express. You were fresh and natural and fully responsive to the end. A great copulator—if you have such a word in English."

"I don't know. But I know what you are trying to say."

"An innocence and exuberance that renews itself with each fuck. Every fuck giving the feeling of being a first one. It is a talent that I hope your profession never steals from you."

Again he said it so matter-of-factly that Trent felt a little thrill of pleasure travel up from his toes. No one exhibited the pleasure of working a man's body sexually as this Brazilian did. No one accepted Trent as a whore without a hint of censor as the Brazilian did. Trent was still struggling with something he could say to express his appreciation at how the Brazilian showed that he not only valued Trent's body but also did not judge, controlled in the fuck, but not in the treatment of Trent as a human being.

He hadn't thought of what to say, though, before he heard the Brazilian grunt and say, "But I can't let you leave without your pay." He walked over to the nightstand and picked up the folded bills and held them out toward Trent.

It wasn't that, in that moment, the Brazilian was marking Trent as a whore. The Brazilian had already said enough to dispel any chance of that impression being established. It was that, in that moment, Trent realized he hadn't done enough to let the Brazilian know what Trent felt about what the Brazilian had given to him, meant to him. And it also was in that moment that Trent knew what he could do about that.

He walked over and took the money from the Brazilian's hand and scattered it on top of the bed—not in an angry gesture but as one of floating rose petals in front of a married couple leaving the church. With one hand he unbound the knot in the Brazilian's towel and with the other he unzipped his own shorts and let them fall to the carpet.

The Brazilian lay on his back on the bed on the bed of twenty-dollar bills, his hands gripping the slats of the headboard overhead to steady his body, looking up into Trent's face with a mixed aspect of surprise, wonder, amusement, and deep affection, Trent having finished lying between his legs and sucking his cock and balls until the man was hard as a rock and babbling incoherently in Portuguese. Trent straddled his hips, his hands palming the Brazilian's heaving chest, wildly fucked himself on the Brazilian's cock, twisting and turning and diving and rising, making as full a use of the cock ring inside his channel as he could. Riding the Brazilian hard to the older man's last ejaculation of the evening, doing everything he could to show the Brazilian a good time, unmarked by ulterior expectation, and to signal that for this evening, it was not a john and his male whore, but two lovers fully and freely celebrating each other's bodies and the heights of ecstasy each could take the other to.

An hour later Trent lay, alone, in Buzz's bed in the dark of the night, not able to get to sleep. Wondering where Buzz was and who he was fucking—and admonishing himself for feeling hurt and angry about that, considering where he himself had been and what he'd been doing for hours that afternoon and evening.