Lexington Black (20 page)

His orgasm came from nowhere, bolting from
the base of his balls, surge after surge of come landing on his
chest. Philip was sitting back on his knees, admiring his handiwork
as Lex was finally allowed to please his man, his pelvis
jack-hammering as he fucked up into Rob's flailing body. His climax
prolonged Rob's, keeping the momentum going until both men were
exhausted, sagging heaps on the couch, drenched with semen and
sweat. In the afterglow, Rob scooped up the warm vestiges of his
orgasm and reached back to feed it to Lex, who greedily licked his
fingers. They curled up together and just enjoyed the close contact
until Rob remembered Philip.

He looked around but the younger man had left
the room. A stab of guilt went through him as he thought of how
selfish they had been.

'He'll find someone to suck him off,' Lex
said, as if reading his mind. 'And anyone can ignore blue balls if
you pay them enough.'

After a while he gently eased him off his lap
and they went into the bathroom to clean themselves up. There was a
discreet knock on the door. Dinner would be served in five minutes,
they were told.

Lex ran a flannel under warm water and
tenderly washed Rob's back end, then dried him.

'Wear these,' he said, throwing him a pair of
red hipsters.

Rob put them on and slipped his shirt on top.
Now the immediate lust had abated and he had sobered up a bit, he
felt slightly self-conscious walking back outside. Everyone would
know what they had been doing. He had been noisy enough.

'Lex sure knows how to make them squeal,'
Justin said as they walked back out onto the sundeck.

'That was him, not me,' Rob shot back at him.
He was riled at the way the men assumed he was the subordinate,
just because Lex was richer, more powerful, the top. He knew then
and there that it was the one thing bothering him about his
relationship with Lex. He wanted to be his equal, not the weaker
one.

'Ooh, feisty,' Justin pouted as the other men
laughed. Only Lex looked troubled, as if he knew what Rob had been
thinking.

As the evening darkened, dinner was served.
Scallops, fillet steak, New York cheesecake, all presented with the
accomplishment of a Michelin Star chef. There was more wine,
aperitifs, petit fours, until Rob's head was fuzzy and he was so
full he could hardly move. Peter disappeared and presently made an
appearance as Caressa, to much applause. She began to sing in a
husky, tuneful voice, redolent of Sara Vaughan, prowling around the
gathered men, teasing them with her ostrich feather boa, singing
"Whatever Lola Wants," and ending with a flourish, eliciting
wolf-whistles and more clapping.

'She's very good.' Rob was captivated by
Caressa's seductive voice as she purred through two more torch
songs. At the end of them she draped herself elegantly on a
sun-lounger, accepting a glass of champagne and a gallant hand kiss
from Lex. She looked like an old-fashioned movie star.

'Who's next?' Someone asked the question, but
no-one seemed inclined to follow Caressa's masterful performance.
In the end it was Philip who was persuaded to sing a few haunting
songs in his native Spanish, accompanied by incredibly intricate
playing on his guitar. As he played, a fire pit was lit. They sat
in the dark, listening to Philip's soulful voice and for a while,
they could almost imagine they were on a secluded beach, not on the
top of a fifty storey building in the middle of Manhattan

'That was amazing,' Rob said when the
performance ended to rapturous applause.

'It's what I do,' he replied modestly, 'but
escort work pays more money.' There was sadness in the way he said
it.

'Never stop playing,' Rob said. 'You could
fill the Albert Hall with that kind of talent.'

Philip smiled at him, grateful and
disbelieving. Rob saw Lex glowering at them. He could sense jealous
waves emanating from him and felt strangely comforted.

After that, the party wound down. People
left, wishing Rob luck with his novel. The pretty boys had gone and
there were only Peter and Justin left.

In the dark, the pool was lit up with lights
that made the water look emerald green. Rob listened to the men
talking quietly, and the sounds of the city mingled with Dire
Straights playing inside the apartment. His stomach was full of
excellent food and his head was somewhat befuddled with too many
cocktails. His eyes grew heavy. He tried to fight it, but it was no
use. He closed his eyes and in a moment was fast asleep.

'He's gone,' Justin whispered.

'He looks like an angel.' Peter stealthily
walked his fingers up Rob's leg.

'Stop it! You'll disturb him.'

'No. He's totally gone.' Peter stroked the
inside of Rob's thigh. In his sleep, Rob shifted, lifting his leg
slightly so that his inner thigh was further exposed. 'He's such a
lightweight when it comes to late nights, but I'm not complaining.'
He pattered his finger tips lightly against the smooth skin and
ever-so-lightly brushed against his balls, snugly encased in the
red briefs.

'Leave him alone.' I swatted Peter's hand
away. 'It's time you both left anyway. Don't you have some fucking
to catch up on?'

'What about Rob?' Peter asked craftily.

'There's no way I'm waking him right now.
I'll watch over him.'

Peter and Justin exchanged knowing looks. I
wanted them out of my apartment so I could be alone with my
sleeping angel. Peter took the hint and steered Justin out, after
endless air kisses and yet more fucking chatter.

When they had gone, I went back to where Rob
was sleeping. I took a chenille throw from one of the couches and
covered him with it before sliding in next to him. The heat of his
body was almost too much to bear. I watched him, sprawled on the
bed like a living wet dream. His head rolled towards me and his
eyes flickered open. He smiled at me as I lowered my lips to his.
It was a sleepy, slow kiss with delicately roving tongues. His hand
came up to caress my neck. I shivered as I pressed closer to him.
His back arched and I followed the movement with my hand, stroking
down to his hip. I could feel his erection brushing against my
pelvis. I clasped it in my hand and squeezed, forcing more blood
into that long, hard organ. He whimpered against my lips.

'I'm very drunk,' he said softly as we made
out in slow motion.

'And I'm very horny,' I whispered back.

'Good.' His kisses were hungry, dirty and
sexy, his tongue deep and thrusting in my mouth. That evening I had
awakened something inside him that was straining to be let loose,
and I knew that from then on, he was capable of anything.

He pushed me back on the mattress and moved
slowly down my body. He had the energy of a sloth but he put his
mouth muscles to good work around my cock. I fondled the back of
his neck as he lashed my cock with his hot tongue, doing to me what
he clearly enjoyed receiving himself. My breath hitched as I my
arousal soared. He moved around, letting me reach the heavy bulge
in his briefs. I took out his cock and we lazily sixty-nined each
other until the need was too urgent to ignore. His thrusts matched
mine as we fucked each other's mouths. I came first, triggering his
own climax as my moans vibrated through his cock. Our bodies
pressed close to feel every pulse, we swallowed down the fruits of
our loving. I could feel him mumbling with pleasure as he
tongue-bathed my cock and I held him tight, enjoying his
closeness.

He moved to rest his head against the pillow
again and I pulled the throw over us, spooning my body around
his.

******

When morning came, I resisted opening my
eyes, lest he was no longer there. Already I yearned for his touch,
the slow, easy smile that made his eyes crinkle and light up, and
the cultured honey of his voice. I lay there with my eyes closed,
not daring to reach out and feel cold, empty sheets. My morning
wood was rigid with anticipation.

A few moments passed. I opened my eyes and
looked over at an empty space. He had gone. I sat up, naked apart
from the throw I had covered us with. There was something
melancholy about a wealthy man in a luxurious apartment, the city
of Manhattan spread before him, surrounded by nine million other
people yet totally, absolutely alone. I drew in a breath, ready to
let the negativity flow out with the exhale.

And then I smelt it. Bacon.

Bacon? Way up here? The tantalising waft made
my nose twitch. It cannot have been from the apartment as Consuela
did not work at weekends. I had to fend for myself on Saturdays and
Sundays.

Curious, I followed the seductive aroma,
which was indeed coming from the apartment. A surge of happiness
shot through me as I saw Rob in the kitchen, flipping rashers of
streaky bacon in a frying pan. He still wore the narrow red briefs
and his white shirt, nothing else. Unaware of my presence, he
wiggled his cute butt and sang to himself, moving as competently
around the kitchen as Consuela did. The table by the window was
already laid for breakfast, with orange juice, utensils and maple
syrup. Coffee bubbled gently in the percolator.

Silently I crept up behind him and slid my
hands around his waist, kissing the back of his neck. He exclaimed
softly and dropped his spatula on the floor. As he bent to pick it
up, he would never know how close he came to being bent over the
kitchen worktop and fucked senseless.

'Good morning,' he said cheerfully, ignoring
the fact that my naked dick was pressed up hard against his
buttocks. 'How do you like your eggs?'

'With a kiss.' I nibbled on his neck
again.

'Later, stud. Food first. Sit.' He waved me
towards the table. I thought it would be a good idea to put some
underwear on at least, so I raced off like an over-excited puppy,
pulled on some boxer briefs and a tee-shirt, then ran back to take
my place at the table.

'Eggs?' He prompted as I sat down.

'Scrambled.' Rather like my brain, I thought,
as I watched him beat the eggs into submission. Within three
minutes, two fragrant platefuls of food were presented at the table
and we began to eat.

Not much conversation passed between us. He
was obviously an early bird, the opposite of my night owl
tendencies, but he wasn't insufferable with it. He seemed to
realise I didn't do much talking until I had food and two cups of
coffee inside me. I also sensed a certain nervousness about him,
but the sight of his package pouching the red briefs proved a
welcome distraction. Thanks to the clear glass of the table, I
could keep it in sight as I ate.

'That was damned fine,' I said when my plate
was completely empty again.

'Glad you liked it. Toast? Muffin?' He danced
away like a skittish foal before I could grab him. The nervousness
remained, despite the bright demeanour. Surely it wasn't me? I was
a man like any other. It was time to take action. I followed him
and spun him around, pulling him into my arms. My fingers stroked
the soft skin beneath his buttocks, underneath the short
underwear.

'What's wrong?'

He coiled his arms around my neck, his
beautiful face turned up to mine. 'Nothing.'

'You're quiet. Do you wish you hadn't
come?'

'No! It's just ... I'm not very good at
instigating, if you know what I mean.' A pink stain spread over his
cheeks.

I bit back a disbelieving laugh. 'Oh my
fucking god, are you
shy?
'

He rolled his eyes. 'Uh, I guess.'

'Honey, you took part in a threesome
yesterday,
and
you skull-fucked me on our first date. How
can you be shy now?'

'You're never going to let me forget that,
are you?' He smiled slyly. 'So are we going to talk about this, or
are you going to shut up and get down to business?'

I moved ever closer to him, letting him feel
the strength of my hard-on. 'I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll
taste my jizz in your mouth,' I said calmly, and was disconcerted
when he grinned widely at me.

'That's what I like about you, Lex. Always so
classy.'

I decided right then it was time to cut his
superior English ass down to size.

'You're going to pay for that.' I lifted him
up onto the kitchen work surface. He opened his legs, allowing me
to stand between them. A tentative kiss, then another, and I felt
him relax against me as we kissed again, our tongues probing deep
in our mouths. We kissed for a long time, our lips seasoned with
salt and maple syrup, before he leaned back on the cool granite
surface so I could admire his body. He rested on his elbows,
watching me as I breathed on his tightly restrained, prominent
erection. It lifted, held cruelly back by the tight briefs. I
licked tiny whorls into the dark hair on his inner thighs and
nuzzled his bulky ball sac, easing the underwear downwards, pausing
to accentuate that delightful bulge I had been ogling earlier
before revealing him in all his aroused glory.

His cock was everything I wanted it to be,
pink and perfect, silky smooth and a respectable nine inches or so.
I didn't want him to be bigger than that. I was the top, after all.
It was my role to have the bigger dick so I could satisfy my angel
in the way he needed.

Gently I eased the briefs down to mid-thigh.
In this position he could not move his legs wider, building his
frustration as I trailed my tongue around his balls. I still
couldn't get over how warm and silky they were now they were
hair-free. Above them, his cock slapped against his stomach as if
reminding me of its presence. As if I needed reminding. He quivered
as I traced the length of his dick with the tip of my tongue. I
wanted to remind him I could suck cock way better than Philip had,
exorcising for good that lusty Spanish stud out of his head. My own
erection hadn't abated since I first woke up and it pressed
uncomfortably against the kitchen cupboard.