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“Look, there it is again,” Jerrod said, turning his tablet around so that Kyle could see the screen. “It’s the same cruise. And, look, it says they are prepared to be very generous, based on performance. I wonder what generous means.”
“I wonder what performance would mean,” Kyle said, unwrapping the cashmere scarf from around his neck, rolling it up, and laying it on the bench seat next to him. He was only now beginning to thaw out from the early December cold and snow in downtown Denver.
They were sitting in the Edge bar of the Denver Four Seasons Hotel, waiting for their potential hookup. Jerrod, older and more experienced than Kyle, was borderline excited; Kyle was downright nervous. He hadn’t done this before. There’d been a few before his professor at the University of Colorado in Boulder, where they’d driven here from in more than a foot of snow, but until now it had all been one on one. It had been Jerrod who had told Kyle that he’d like couples and that couples would love him.
“You know what it means. And, trust me, maintain your aura of innocence and your ‘aw shucks’ boyish looks and this could pay off big—maybe even enough to cover the cruise to Yucatan. You know I’ve got to get out of this snow at least this Christmas season or I’ll scream. For the first time I have time off to allow me to escape.”
“I can do Christmas here without any problem. Snow is part of Christmas,” Kyle answered, but he didn’t think Jerrod was even listening to him. There were times with Jerrod just steamed right through him. Kyle was a submissive. He knew it, and Jerrod knew it—and took advantage of it. And Jerrod was giving that tablet more attention now than he was giving Kyle.
“Snow sucks big,” Jerrod said with a big sigh.
“Whatever,” Kyle muttered. Then, looking at Jerrod fingering his tablet, he asked, “So, what are you doing now?”
“I’m responding,” Jerrod said, working the keys on his tablet. “This is the third place I’ve seen this guy say he and his wife are taking a Royal Caribbean Christmas cruise from Miami, around the western Caribbean, and to the Yucatan Peninsula and wonders if any player male bisexuals will be on the Empress of the Seas cruise. There are. That’s us.”
“You can’t set anything up, Jerrod. I haven’t decided yet. You may be bi, but I don’t know if I can be. You’re moving too fast.”
“It doesn’t hurt to open a conversation. We don’t have to give any particulars. It’s a big ship. We probably won’t even know who they are if we don’t go any farther. But don’t be nervous. You’ll do just fine with couples. And this Chinese pair . . . ah, this must be them now.”
Jerrod stood up from the banquette behind the cocktail table and Kyle looked up. His first impression was the difference in their heights and their stature. The Chinese woman was small, delicate, like a porcelain doll, with alabaster skin. She was gorgeous. She wasn’t young, but she was holding her age well. She was wearing a cobalt blue Thai silk suit that fit her trim body with a shimmer that gave the impression it was flowing on the curves of her body. In contrast, the man was taller and bulkier than Kyle thought of Chinese men being. He looked austere. He was a good-looking man in a camel-tan sports coat that was cut to look casual but also to make clear it was very expensive, but he had piercing black eyes that constantly seemed to be assessing the value—to him—of whatever he looked at.
He was looking past Jerrod at Kyle and his mouth went into a tight little smile. His eyes remained cold and assessing, and Kyle had the sensation that he was being undressed with the eyes and assessed for his physical attributes—which exuded blond, sensual, fresh, underaverage stature, and yielding.
Jerrod introduced Kyle and himself to Tessa and Bernard Chin, a cocktail waitress appeared for drink orders before the Chins had a chance to sit down, and the couple sat—he stiffly and she like flowing water—in chairs on the other side of the cocktail table from the banquette.
As they sipped their cocktails, they engaged in small talk, each side of the table scrutinizing the other. The Chins claimed they were in Denver temporarily. She was a movie actress in Taiwan and he an international financier based in Hong Kong and Chicago. There were a couple of board meetings in Denver and that’s what they were—bored. They belonged to an on-line club that Jerrod belonged to as well. They had time this weekend and interest—specific interest in Jerrod’s listing on the Web site.
Jerrod Hastings, who had been a star player on the university’s basketball team and who was of robust Nordic aspect and who had just stayed on at the university a decade after graduating, was an assistant coach and Communications Department assistant professor at the University of Colorado in Boulder. Kyle Tolver was one of his students, a part time clothing model and training to be a news reporter. Tessa and Bernard were going by those names, but Jerrod and Kyle weren’t, of course. Jerrod was Sven and Kyle gaziantep escort was Craig for the purpose of this meeting.
Yes, it was lucky the four of them were in Denver for the weekend. Jerrod didn’t reveal that he and Kyle were only here because the sum of a $1,000 for a two-hour session had been mentioned in their Web site exchange.
Yes, Jerrod had participated in these arrangements before, but, no, Kyle hadn’t. Jerrod poked Kyle’s thigh under the cocktail table and Kyle turned his innocent boy look on the couple across the table. “Would that be a problem?” Jerrod asked, knowing that, as long as Kyle was willing, it would be a delight for the Chins.
“Not in the least,” Bernard Chin answered turning eyes on Kyle that already had him naked and on a rack. Tessa’s eyes were alive with excitement too, but she was more democratic, moving her gaze from Jerrod to Kyle and back to Jerrod. She reached across the table and let her fingers play in the hair on the back of the hand Jerrod had resting there.
As he answered, Chin, extended his hand on the surface of the table as well, but he didn’t take anyone’s hand. He was just placing a wad of folded bills on the table, wrapped around a hotel room access card.
“Room 1417,” he said, as he stood up, drained his drink, and then turned his eyes on Tessa. She nodded at him and stood and the two slowly walked out of the bar and across the lobby to the bank elevators in the fifteen-story downtown all-glass skyscraper.
Kyle sucked in his breath when he walked into the dimly lit hotel room. It was, of course, sumptuously furnished, with a king-sized bed dominating the room. But what took one’s attention from the doorway was the full wall of glass that looked out on the snow-covered Rocky Mountain range that seemed close enough to touch. Kyle immediately felt tingly; he loved the snow on the mountains. This was his favorite time of year in Colorado. It was something he and Jerrod didn’t agree on.
The room had a fireplace, which was crackling happily and providing most of the light in the room. It also had a bar at one side. Bernard was leaning on the bar, naked except for an open silk robe. He had a Buddha belly but was otherwise muscular. He was in erection, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He had a drink in his hand, was leaning on the bar, and his eyes were darting everywhere
Kyle followed the line of Bernard’s sight to the bed, where Tessa perched, wearing only in a bustier, which started below her full breasts with rouged nipples and ended above the black, curly hair of her snatch. Her labia were plump, as if they’d been surgically enhanced, and had been rouged. She wore black net stockings and red high heels. Bernard next looked at Jerrod and he nodded. Jerrod began to strip. At last he looked at Kyle and growled, “Come here.”
Bernard slowly undressed Kyle, taking time to explore and fondle until Kyle was panting and putty in the man’s grasp. The man as correctly assessed Kyle as a total submissive, going docile at the first showing of domination, and Bernard was taking full advantage of that. After having stripped Kyle bare and buried his face in Kyle’s crack as the young man bent over and grasped his ankles, Bernard rose up as he leaned against the bar, grasped Kyle’s hips, slowly pulled Kyle’s channel back onto his cock, and fucked Kyle from behind, as the young man remained bent over, holding his ankles. Kyle turned his face up to look beyond the room, to the snow-clad mountains in the near distance. While languidly manipulating Kyle’s submissive body, Bernard looked over the young man’s head to the bed, where Tessa was on her back on the bed, buttocks on the footboard edge of the bed, legs spread, and Jerrod hovered over her between her legs, squeezed her breasts with his hands, and slowly fucked her.
After several minutes of this, Bernard pulled out of Kyle and shuffled him over to the bed, growling for Jerrod to make way. He put Kyle were Tessa had been, Tessa on her feet at the base of the bed, leaning over Kyle and sucking his cock, and Jerrod fucking Tessa from behind. Then he mounted Jerrod from behind and fucked him. It ended with Bernard pushing both Jerrod and Tessa aside to continue on the bed beside him and him moving in between Kyle’s spread legs, thrusting inside him again and pounding him hard to an ejaculation.
Kyle lay there, docilely staring out of the window wall, mesmerized by the play of the full moon’s rays on the Rocky Mountains, the only indication he was being fucked his deep moans, light panting, and the almost imperceptible rise and tightening of his buttocks to take the savage thrust to Bernard’s cock and release as the cock drew back, only to thrust again.
Later, with Jerrod and Kyle back in the hotel’s Edge bar and Kyle trembling a bit and having to hold his drink with both hands to keep it steady, Jerrod said, “There, now, that wasn’t too bad, was it? Certainly worth the thousand dollars he gave us.”
“He didn’t wear a condom,” Kyle said with a shaky voice.
“Neither did I. We’ll get checked when we get back to Boulder. But you’ve done it once. This dude we’re on the cruise with and is interested in . . . ah, yes, he’s answered my message.” Jerrod was concentrating on reading the screen of his tablet. Kyle reached out for the tablet, but then withdrew his hand again. Jerrod punched out a message on his tablet. “There.”
“There what?” Kyle asked.
“We’ve got a date. He’s given me a cabin number. The $500 per session offer is firm. Not what the Chinese guy give, but you don’t get a high roller like that every day.”
Kyle sat back in his chair and sulked. Jerrod had asked him what he thought about the bi swinger experience, but he hadn’t even waited to discuss it with Kyle before signing him up for another one. Kyle felt screwed—and not just by the demanding Chinese guy. And it was weird being blown by the woman. Kyle hadn’t done it with a woman before. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that, and Jerrod certainly hadn’t told him he was bi before they got involved.
* * * *
Kyle held his resentment through boarding the Empress of the Sea on 19 December in Miami for an eight-day cruise to Honduras, Belize, Mexico, and back. They wouldn’t get back to Miami until two days after Christmas and then they’d go on down to Key West to party for New Year’s. The ship would actually dock at Key West two days after leaving Miami for most of a day. Maybe Kyle would get a sense of why Jerrod was so excited about being on the key for New Year’s. All Kyle knew was that it would be as warm as a Colorado summer, which he could get in the right season without traveling to the Caribbean. It was the season for snow now—”white Christmas” and all that.
They were about to be good with each other when they got to Miami—not that Jerrod seemed to realize that Kyle was pouting—but Jerrod had gone out for cigarettes after dinner in the hotel they’d booked for the night before boarding on the cruise, and he hadn’t come back until 3:00 a.m.
Getting on the ship was a hassle and then Jerrod’s suitcase arrived late and he was running around in a snit about that. The ship was putting out to sea when their time to appear in the main dining room came up. They had a table just for the two of them and they spent their time ogling the other diners and wondering who the Anges were—the couple they were to meet and swing with if they’d appeared to be compatible. The next day was a full day at sea and they’d arranged to meet at the Bolero Lounge at 9:00 p.m. to look each other over.
There were some good-looking men to look at on the ship. Most were older and had a woman in tow but there were some unattached men, or men attached to men, like Jerrod and Kyle were, of Jerrod’s age bracket, the early thirties. There were fewer in Kyle’s age bracket, the early twenties. Jerrod got as many looks as he did looking, but Kyle got even more. Women—and many men—couldn’t take their eyes from him.
A group of three, a forties bracket man and woman, both looking well-heeled and well-preserved came in with a younger man, in his thirties and went to a table for three in the center of the dining room. The man and woman were dressed to the nines and expensively so. The younger man with them was dressed more Western style, with a fringed deer-skin jacket, well-pressed jeans, and cowboy boots. He didn’t look cheap; he just looked Western, which was distinctive on a Caribbean cruise.
“Wouldn’t mind if that was our couple. Even sort of looks like their photos,” Jerrod said. “But it looks like they already have their male bi candy in tow.”
Kyle was looking at the cowboy, who was looking back at him.
They went to the casino after dinner and Jerrod got snappish, both because he lost at cards and because he was tired, having stayed out, “looking for cigarettes,” until 3:00 that morning and then having had a grueling afternoon getting checked onto the ship and tracking his luggage down.
He also drank too much in the casino, and neither man was in the mood for sex when they returned to the cabin. The next morning, the ship being at sea and the cabin rolling a bit, Jerrod wasn’t even interested in getting up for breakfast. After a quick breakfast in the Windjammer café, Kyle pulled on a Speedo and a T-shirt and headed to the pool with a book—a gay male Western he’d gotten off Amazon—and a bottle of suntan lotion. He couldn’t do anything about the Caribbean being sunny and warm rather than snowing with sleigh bells in the background, so he decided he might as well take advantage of the sun and work on a tan.
He laughed when he arrived at the ship-top swimming pool. Christmas carols were playing over the loudspeaker. The lounge chairs were beginning to fill it and he found one of two that a family with toddlers was vacating. They were set very close together. He settled down on the lounge bed, pulling his T-shirt off and dropping his sun glasses, paperback novel, and bottle of suntan lotion on a side table at one side, a lounge bed right up against his bed on the other side. When he looked up at the pool, a fringed deerskin jacket hanging off the end of a lounge bed across the pool caught his attention. The cowboy from dinner the previous night was stretched out in the bed in a Speedo and was watching him and smiling at him over the top of sunglasses pulled down to the tip of his nose.
Pretending he wasn’t looking at the guy, but looking as much as he could to assure himself that the man was a hunk, which he was, Kyle walked to the side of the pool, dove in, and swam laps. There were far more people lying around on the lounge beds than there were in the pool.
When he came out of the water and tossed his head back and forth to jettison some of the water he was soaked with, his eyes went to his lounge bed. The one up against it was occupied now. A fringed deerskin jacket hung down from the foot of the lounge bed.
He sat down on the side of his bed with the side table, his back to the other lounge bed, and toweled his torso off.
“The sun burns fast in the Caribbean,” a rich baritone voice came at him from behind. “I’ll trade. I’ll spread the lotion on your back if you’ll do mine.”
“OK,” Kyle said, turning and looking at the hunk, who was still a hunk despite Kyle’s feeble attempts not to notice that. As they said, tall, dark, and handsome. Also sultry and muscular and, yes, there was a nice bulge in the Speedo. Kyle could see the line of the man’s cock inside the material. He was thick and long, especially since he was at least half hard. “I’ll do you first. Sit up, turned away from me.”
The man complied, and Kyle went up on his knees behind him and started applying lotion.
“I’m Roger,” the man said. “This could do double service. A shoulder massage would be mighty fine.”
“Sure,” Kyle said, digging his fingers in deeper and being rewarded with a satisfied grunt. “I’m Kyle.”
“From the Florida area?” Roger asked. “No, out West. Boulder, Colorado. You too maybe? That’s a nice deerskin jacket.”
“Yeah, we’re nearly neighbors. I’m from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Own a Western shop there. I guess you could say I’m a walking model. I sell a line of these deerskin jackets. Lots of people ask me where I got it, and I make a sale.”
“You could be a model,” Kyle said, and as an afterthought. “I model clothes part time.”
“You should come on up to Jackson Hole and model for my store. Is that what you do in Boulder.”
“I’m a student—at the University of Colorado there.”
“You on this cruise with your boyfriend?”
Kyle’s hands stopped from the shock of the question. Roger turned his head. “Hope I’m not being forward. I saw the book you’re reading. I’ve seen you checking me out.”
“I’ve read it too—the book. Pretty steamy. Some positions that even I haven’t tried.”
“Oh,” Kyle said again. “Yeah, I guess I’m on the cruise with my boyfriend. He’s an assistant basketball coach and an assistant professor at UC.”
“So, you like older men?”
“He’s not that old. Early thirties.”
“I’m in my early thirties,” Roger said. They suddenly didn’t have anything to say in that progression of conversation, but Roger was the first to speak. Kyle had returned to rubbing his back and shoulders, but in a rather desultory manner.
“I think I’m done. My turn. Stretch out on your stomach.”
Kyle did so and Roger started giving him what was more of a back massage than a lotion application. It went to Kyle’s legs, and, when Roger ran his hands up the inside of Kyle’s thighs, up high, without thinking about it Kyle widened the stance of his legs. He also emitted a low moan. The hands went back to massaging the meat of Kyle’s thighs and calves, but they returned to run up the inside of Kyle’s thighs, this time going higher, fingers almost reaching Kyle’s perineum. The moan was deeper now and, again without realizing he was doing it, Kyle raised himself slightly on his knees, presenting his ass.
Roger gave a low laugh and leaned over and whispered in Kyle’s ear, “You take a man inside you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Kyle answered with a whimper.
“Are you hard for me?” He surreptitiously ran his hand up between Kyle’s thighs, cupped the young man’s basket, and found his own answer.
“Yes,” Kyle murmured. “Take me someplace. Fuck me. Ride me.”
“Come into the pool with me.”
“There are people here.”
“Come into the pool with me for just a few minutes and then come back to my cabin with me. There’s no one in the cabin but me. You don’t have to decide right now. Come into the pool with me and decide then. I want you to feel what I have for you.”
“Yes,” Kyle whimpered.
“You first,” Roger growled. “Go into the pool.”
Shaking, Kyle pulled himself off the lounge bed, struggled over to the side of the pool, and dove in. Roger dove in behind him and pulled him over into one of the curves of the pool by where a peninsula of walkway went out in the water. No other swimmers were coming into this area and it was difficult to see anything but heads from the pool deck lounge beds.
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