Last Call Ch. 01

We fucked like animals who didn't believe in tomorrow, him attacking my nipples with his teeth and me clawing my nails into his hairy back and drumming my heels on his calves. He smelled of brandy and cigar and male lust, and I loved him for it. He reared his hairy chest off me and grabbed me by the throat, causing me to choke and gurgle, and beat my head up and down on the mattress mercilessly, as he pistoned his pelvis between my thighs in rhythm. I counterthrust with my hips to take every inch of him inside me that I could. I came quickly and prodigiously, and he ejaculated shortly thereafter, slathering my depths with his hot cum.

He was back in his chair, calmly smoking his cigar and sipping at his snifter, a secret, satisfied little enigmatic smile on his face, when Tahir emerged from his thankfully long shower, rubbing his hair dry with his towel.

I moved slowly, painfully to the bathroom, as Tahir pulled the coverlet off the bed and started pulling the sheets down. He yawned and said I'd find him in bed. And I assumed he would be out like a light. Sometime in the dawn hours, I decided I would wake him and beg to be fucked again. And he would feel the virile man as he turned me on my belly and rode my ass languidly like swelling waves on the sea as I watched the sun rising out of the Mediterranean through the transparent glass walls and dreamed of Fazil's cocking. And maybe that would keep him content to continue to feed state secrets to my successor.

Fazil mumbled something about going downstairs for a few minutes, and he picked his trousers up and headed for the stairs.

But he bypassed the stairs while Tahir wasn't looking and pushed me into the bathroom and fucked me hard again from the rear against the tiles of the shower under the running water, his hairy-knuckled fingers digging into my waist, and his strong hands sliding me up and down, my nipples and belly sliding up and down the slick, soapy tiles of the shower wall, as he played my channel on his cock and reached for my tonsils with his thick, possessing tongue.

"I leave for Istanbul on my yacht in the morning," he whispered in my ear as he released my bruised lips and continued pile-driving his cock up inside me.

"Yes," I murmured.

"You will come with me," he said.

"Yes," I murmured again.

"And from now on, the lights will remain on when we fuck," he said.

"Yes," I answered between groans as he rotated his thick cock inside me, punishing all of my channel walls in a movement that was driving me crazy with passion.

The COS would be pleased that I had wormed my way into the inner circle of the notorious arms smuggler. But that wasn't the only reason, by any means, that I'd be sailing to Istanbul with Fazil Fikret on the morrow.