Into the Lion's Den (17 page)

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Authors: Tionne Rogers

BOOK: Into the Lion's Den
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“That's…”

“It's a jojoba and silicone based lubricant and a panthenol spray to relax your sphincter. We can try them and if you feel bad or uncomfortable, we stop. Don't you want to prove your love to me Guntram?” He added the last question with a hurt look dangling from his eyes, secretly enjoying when the boy looked pained at his words. 'He’s crystal.'

“I'm not sure…”

“Have I ever hurt you?”

“Never.”

“Then, you should trust me in this too. You know I want only the best for you,” Constantin whispered and started to peck his love's lips, enjoying you the boy seemed to literally melt under his touches.

Guntram did his best to relax and shut up his brain—screaming against what was going to occur—he blindly returned the kisses and only held stronger to Constantin's neck when he felt something cold in his anus. Seeing that the boy was not opposing—although keeping his wonderful blue eyes shut was very disappointing for him—

Constantin spread some of the lubricant over his own member and in his fingers, waiting some moments for the spray to become effective. He applied the lube and started to massage the boy, delighted to confirm that he was truly untouched as the entrance was truly narrow.

Hearing the boy purr like a cat nearly threw him out of his senses but he controlled his libido once more and continued to massage till the boy moaned showing him that he was willing to continue. He knelt down in front of the boy, lying on pillows, and placed his hips over his thighs as he spread his legs wide. Holding his member with his right hand and the soft hip with the other, he thrusted himself inside the boy with all the force the could, making him yell in pain at the brutal intrusion. 'He has to understand that he's mine,' he briefly thought before his hands secured the arms of the boy, throwing all his weight over them to secure his mount as he felt how Guntram arched his back in a futile attempt to escape.

The pain was insupportable no matter if Constantin was doing his best to calm him down with his kisses all over his face, not moving an inch after he had buried himself inside him. “Don't focus on the pain, it will be gone soon, try to relax my love,” Guntram could heard the voice in his ear but the urge to get away from the pain was stronger than reason. He felt something cold and wet running down his cheek.

“Angel, it always hurts the first time,” Constantin comforted him again, releasing one of his arms as the boy was not rebelling and doing his best to control his pain and obey him. He caressed gently the boy's face and slowly started to move, trying to make him enjoy it too. Being inside him was an incredible feeling as he felt trapped, constricted, touching the silkiest skin he had ever seen, with the most breathtaking person he had ever met. Guntram was indeed all what he had desired in his life. 'He's perfect for me.'

Some minutes later, Guntram's pain started to fade, but the sensation was not so incredible as it was supposed to be. He took the man's face and pulled it against him to kiss him, looking for comfort and warmth. He relaxed as much as he could and let his older lover take over the situation. The pain slowly dissolved with the moves and Guntram renewed his kisses on him as Constantin seemed to be enormously enjoying what they were doing. The final ecstatic groan and the hot liquid he felt flooding him, made him realise that it was over.

“Are you all right, my angel?” Constantin sounded very concerned as he kissed the boy's hands, trying to keep him as close to his body as he could as he could feel the need to escape in him.

“It still hurts.” Guntram confessed and abandoned the fight to disentangle himself from Constantin because he was exerting a strong hold on his waist.

“It's uncomfortable at the beginning, but it will improve with the days. You were incredible for me, angel. How could you ever think that I could be disappointed with you?”

“I don't know, Constantin.” Guntram mumbled, feeling completely drained.

“You're very nervous and tired, my little one. Let's sleep a little longer and then, we'll see.” Constantin's arms cuddled the uncertain boy and his soft petting, lulled him to sleep.

The second time they tried, it wasn't so bad for Guntram as he knew what was expected from him and could relax more and enjoy his lover's ministrations and return his kisses more truthfully than in their previous exercise. This time, Constantin took much longer in the foreplay, stretching him more as he was not so lust driven as he had been in the early morning.

Guntram only whimpered when he was penetrated, this time lying on his side while Constantin was fondling his manhood with achieved expertise. He focused on the pleasure he was receiving, ignoring the initial pain, and suddenly the pain transformed itself into hot pleasure waves when the man hit a special spot inside him. He arched his back and groaned, showing Constantin that he had finally gotten the boy where he wanted and he kept hitting that part, till he felt him on the brink of his climax. The man withdrew only a little to change the angle and Guntram had his release in unison with him.

Constantin smiled knowingly as he kissed the forehead of the panting boy, still trying to recover his breath and overcome the dizziness hammering his head, incredulous that such pleasure could exist.

“I told you it would be much better, once you could let yourself go,” the Russian chuckled.

“It's amazing.”

“Thank you. You're incredible yourself. Taking you is almost a mystical experience. Say that you will stay with me.”

“As long as you want me, as we said.”

“After these two times? We'd better start to look for an old people's home that would take us both together.” Constantin laughed and become serious and kissed Guntram on the lips. “Forever.”

Guntram was lost. Had Constantin not told him that he only wanted an affair with him? From where was all this coming from? No, it was the typical “post coital expansion” as George had called it; don't believe a word of it, just be nice and polite, and he preferred to only smile shyly, hoping that it would be enough for the man and he could go back to sleep. He had never been so tired in his life.

“Guntram, you'd better leave this bed if you want to see a little of London. It's 3:00 in the afternoon. You have missed breakfast and lunch. I'll give you tea at 4:00.” A fully dressed Constantin shook him awake. 'Strange indeed how tired he was after sex, normally young ones start to run around and want more till you kick them out. He slept five hours after the second time!'

“So late? Mikhail Petrovich will kill me. I asked him to go to the National Portrait Gallery today.”

“Don't worry about him. He must have found something to do. You can go tomorrow. Get ready and you can have tea with me. Ask him to take you to a book store. There are very good ones. See if there's something you like.”

“I don't want to leave you alone,” Guntram blurted out, much to Constantin's amusement. “Lord, it's like you said. Not even twenty-four hours and I'm clinging to your neck. Don't pay attention, please.” He corrected himself, upset at his own weakness.

“I'm not going to be alone, angel. I have a date with a blonde, hot blooded German at 5:30.”

“Ah,” Guntram said sounding terribly devastated. 'Don't complain, he told you in advance.'

“He's after my money.” Constantin shrugged, secretly pleased at how Guntram was doing his best to hide his deep sorrowful expression. 'He's adorable.'

“I'll go now, Constantin.”

“Guntram, I should be very drunk before I touch a single hair from him. He's a mean man and my accountant, although he prefers to be called a banker. Besides, he's Swiss; they train to be boring or ‘reliable’ as they say.” Constantin laughed. “I'm afraid, I won't be able to see you till dinner time, at 9:00. He can be very dense and probably wants to speak about Argentina. Oblomov told me he was on the brink of a nervous breakdown last night.”

“Something new?”

“The president escaped in a chopper and the Congress is looking for a replacement as there's no available Vice President. There's a strong rumour that they will declare a full default and there's a devaluation in process. The new government will take over the people's savings in dollars and transform them into pesos. Lintorff used several of my planes to smuggle money out of the country in containers to Uruguay and Brazil. He needs my services and I need his financial advice. I think he also helped some locals, for a fee, of course. Once the
debâcle
is unleashed, he and his friends will come back to buy everything they want for a more than reasonable price. Don't look so shocked. That's how things are done these days. Argentina had a very weak government and a feeble international position, so they were the latest dish on the table. Who knows whose next. I'll ask Lintorff.”

“This is criminal! How can you be so calm about it?”

“Because I did nothing. That's their doing.”

“He should go to jail!”

“When was the last time you saw a real banker sitting in front of a judge? Do you know what we say in Russia: “No one has ever been hanged with money in his pocket.” Anarchists are not so mistaken with their solutions.

It's a way to stop them; pity the next will take his place.”

“They can't do that! People died for this!”

“Be glad they don't cause wars any longer and that they found the way to achieve the same results with only a small popular uprising.”

“Can you not stop him?”

“Impossible; it's not only he, but a bunch of bankers and industrials all together, forming a very closed group. You don't fight with any of them because they react like a single entity. Perhaps, you've heard of secret societies like the Masons, some satanic sects, many of them around London, and these are originally Catholics.

Nothing more dangerous than people who believe that they're forgiven in this life; they have no restraints or constraints of any kind; like Crusaders.”

“It shouldn't be like that.”

“But it's. I have always been like that and will always be. You're no part of that world; you're an artist and your art is all what should matter to you.”

Guntram remained silent for a long time before getting showered and dressed. He did his best to look interested in the conversation Constantin tried to engage him, but it was useless; his mind was permanently on Father Patricio's children and how they were going to survive this new blown to their already frail economies.

“Constantin,” he interrupted his friend as he was elaborating on the Elgin Marbles, “do you think that this art dealer you know would like to buy more of my stuff?”

“I don't know, I could ask him. Why? This is most surprising. I thought you didn't want to sell,” he asked puzzled.

“If I gave him some of what I would paint in Italy or even here, in good paper, do you think he would pay for it?”

“It depends on what it's, if he likes it or if he thinks he can sell it. But Guntram, you never wanted to sell anything before because you were, and I quote you, ‘robbing us’. Have you been touched by greed?”

“I could use the money.”

“What for? You have a scholarship.”

“Six thousand pounds is a lot of money; Father Patricio could use a sum like that for the soup kitchen. I assume that if there's a default, like you said, most people in the world will be pissed off with us. There's no government and probably no money for him or the kids.”

“All right, I'll ask Irina, my secretary to make an appointment for you with him. His customers are among London's high society. Many artists would kill to be in his gallery. Your material was partly sold to an insurance company.”

“Perfect. If they ruin our lives, we can take some money out of them and don't feel bad about it. It's simple justice.”

“Remind me not to let you read Tolstoy, who knows which ideas you might come up with. If you think about it, he destroyed two great Empires.”

“They destroyed by themselves, by their inner tensions and greed. No, I'm more pro Bakunin.”

“You? No way. You'd be sitting along with Kerensky, while you read Tolstoy and think about non violence, angel. I can't deny you have your originality; Robin Hood with Arts.”

After tea, Massaiev discreetly suggested Guntram to fetch his jacket as it was time to leave. “Lintorff and his people are very punctual. Let's avoid them, shall we?”

“No problem by me. Kitchen door?”

“If you don't mind.”

“Why should I? Perhaps I can steal another blueberry muffin.”

“I was wondering when you were going to start to behave like a hooligan,” the serious man joked. “I'm so glad you're not a saint.”

After scurrying from the kitchen, already taken over by three visitor bodyguards, looking very serious and dangerous, sitting around a big table with Yuri and Boris, gloomier than usual, Guntram stopped in the garden as he saw the gate open and a big black limousine parked. A very tall man, got out of the car, while the chauffeur held the door for him. 'The devil is not bad looking,' Guntram briefly thought while he took a quick look on the stern face, blond-brownish hair, aquiline nose matching his strong features and the coldest blue eyes he had ever seen.

Instinctively, he went backwards to blend himself against the wall and foliage, unwilling to be seen. The man and two other more men entered the house through the main door.

“Is that the Swiss banker, Mikhail?”

“That's Lintorff. Stay away from him; he's bad news whenever he goes.”

“Yes, Constantin told me about him. Nasty guy.”

“You have no idea.”

Guntram de Lisle's Diary

December 25th 2001

I'm so happy to be here with Constantin. He's so nice and understanding with me. I love to spend the
days in his company. I think I will miss him when I'll fly to Italy tomorrow. I'm going to Rome-Assisi, Florence and
from there to Perugia and Arezzo. Constantin suggested to drop Venice as he wants to go with me, but in the moment
it's impossible because he has a lot of work. We will see each other in twenty days, in Paris.

Fefo is still stranded in Paris, ranting and bugging me via messenger. He's truly getting to my nerves
with his meddling and prodding. It's really not his business what I do or don't do with Constantin. The funny thing is
that he, the worst student ever, nags me about going back to Buenos Aires to study for my pending subjects! The nerve
of him! I haven't seen you opening your Argentine History books! He wants that we meet in the continent and I'm
evading him. Most surely, I don't want him around when I'm with Constantin! He can spoil a wonderful moment! Why
can't he get a Parisian girlfriend and leave me alone?

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