Tennis Interview

Somewhat nonplused, Rodriguez answered something, but even he could not have told what he said. He did hope, though that Krit was remember the quote so that they would use it for photo captions.

"But I'm glad you are enjoying yourself," Douglas continued. "Krit tells me that you are quite the expert cocksman, so I'm sure Chumphon is enjoying servicing you. I just request that, if you start taking your photos early in the morning, you wait to come into the main house until Krit and I have appeared for breakfast. I plan on wearing Krit's sweet little ass out myself tonight."

Rodriguez nearly slunk out of the room, with face downcast and not knowing what to say. Douglas obviously felt totally in command in this environment.

As he left, the young Thai serving men were untying the drapes on the three open sides of the pavilion and letting them close together to give Douglas and Krit privacy. They followed Rodriguez out of the now-enclosed pavilion and, when he hesitated to pull his camera case out from underneath the chair beyond the now-closed curtains, they continued on, carrying the remnants of the meal and chattering happily to each other in Thai.

Rodriguez didn't go back to his room immediately, though. He lingered there, taking both a still and a small video camera out of his case and checking lens settings. It had been no accident or even distrust of the servants that had led him to bringing his cameras to dinner.

One aspect of their assignment was completed now—or would be when he'd taken the photos around the compound tomorrow morning. But it wasn't just for aTennis Talk article that he and Krit had come all the way to Bangkok—or that Krit had been chosen to come with Rodriguez for.

He waited until he heard Krit begin to moan and groan, and then he started walking around the draped area of the pavilion, on the decking that extended beyond those curtained walls, and peeked in partings of the drapes here and there, looking for good camera angles.

He cursed under his breath. Every angle he could see was blocked by the low teak table. Still, he knew that Douglas was fucking Krit on the pillows behind the low table. They were reclining right where they had been seated, with Douglas on top of Krit. The sarongs were gone. Krit, on his back, had one leg raised up Douglas' torso and his small ankle hooked on Douglas' shoulder. Douglas' plump, yet firm, naked buttocks were rising above the edge of the table and descending again in the rhythm of a vigorous fuck.

Rodriguez managed to fire off some interesting shots, but none that could be identified independently as being of Dent Douglas. Get him to move from there, Rodriguez was screaming in his mind.

As if he'd heard his photographer's demands, Krit struggled up to his knees and mumbled what must have been a request to move to the couch.

When the two men had moved there, Rodriguez got all of the photography he could possibly have wanted. Douglas sitting on the sofa, with Krit facing him and riding his cock. Krit belly down across the sofa, his buttocks raised to Douglas, as the sandy-haired tennis player performed stiff-armed pushups above him, plowing the smaller man's channel with deep thrusts. Douglas sitting again on the sofa, with Krit skewered on his cock, facing away from Douglas, his chest cantilevered out over the teak floor boards and his arms stretched back and held at the wrists by Douglas' strong hands. Krit kneeling at Douglas' feet, half turned away from him, nuzzling Douglas' hard, throbbing cock to his cheek as Douglas ejaculated in great gobs of white cum.

Perfect, Rodriguez thought, as he put his cameras back in his case and stealthily moved down the staircase to the ground and hence down the path in the dense jungle garden toward his own next tryst with Chumphon. This was what they'd come for, more than the Tennis Talk article. The Sports Outings Web site would pay far more for these photos than the tennis magazine would for an article on Dent Douglas' unusual decision to train from Bangkok.