Sunday, June 12, 2011


Joxan kept his promise, and he was on his back. Well, just his upper back, because the rest of him was held fast by Joxan in a very Cirque Du Soleil maneuver while his ass was being happily devoured. Joxan acted as he could not get enough of that puckered rosebud, and he was on the verge of change his mind and beg to be fucked to oblivion. He knew Joxan had learned him extremely well, and could notice his reactions and even his change of ideas when in bed. And it didn’t have anything to do with their silent connection.
“I’m gonna ride that whore’son now” Joxan blurted into his mind.
His neck had started to feel funny. Joxan timing was exceptional. “Yeah, baby. Be my vampire cowboy, hee-haw.”
Joxan settled him down and straddled him, picking up condom and lubricant. Joxan began to work, with his chest parallel to his. It always amazed him how Joxan could work everything back there, and at the same time ravish his mouth in the process.
“You like your taste on my lips?” Joxan urged their mouths together.
This connection was the coolest thing in the world. They could yell, cry, and say the nastiest things without a sound since they were in the balcony. Under other circumstances, an earthquake would have been less noisy.  Latex rolled down his cock, he felt the soft caress of gel and the expert hand of Joxan. Joxan had the most particular stroking technique, it was more a sideways motion than up and down, like a socket driver. It was fantastic.
Then, in a single definitive motion, Joxan impaled himself slowly but resolutely.
The body straddling him was the most beautiful image. Joxan threw his head backward, and his Adam’s apple shimmered as the tip of a wonderful erection under the moonlight. The veins in his arms expanded, his biceps bulged as Joxan clutched to his waist, rocking his own hips. Those short, manly nails felt like Heaven on the skin, ten daggers poking him, just to the appropriate side of pain. Internal muscles gripped his cock in the same manner as hands had done previously. This was too much; he was getting close seriously quickly.
He thought. “Kiss me, Joxan. I need your mouth.”
Joxan leaned without losing the undulation of his body, the gyration of his hips, the abrasion of passage against intruder. “I cannot wait to do this under the stars of Madrid, baby.”
He moaned audibly. “Just another month, baby, and there will be no distractions, no interruptions. What I’m gonna do with Max?”
“We’ll deal with that in one minute. Perhaps, in ten.” Joxan giggled in their minds.
“I’m not sure even about two, baby.” He howled like a beaten wolf on Joxan’s ear, not loud, just for Joxan. “I’m too much in character here.” His laughter rolled in their brains.
“Hmm, and I’m not doing my part,” and the grip dissolved. Joxan dismounted and rearranged himself to a sixty-nine position, shoving his cock into Victor’s mouth. “I want us to come together. I want to taste you, baby. Together... please.”
Latex flew -- seriously --, as Joxan threw it over the rail inadvertently. That was a sketch out of a dark comedy, a flying condom. He was glad his eyes were open in that second, because his mouth was certainly busy with that handsome piece assaulting his uvula. The honeyed warm of Joxan’s mouth engulfed his ready-to-burst cock, and everything else became secondary.
“Together, baby, together.” Joxan soft touch felt like a prayer.
He didn’t know if it were the lips massaging his cock, or the cock massaging his lips. Nonetheless, he exploded. Right behind him, Joxan flooded his throat. Both convulsed and grunted simultaneously.
An exhausted man rested over him, nuzzling the curly hair of his crotch. Joxan’s own cock lay spent on his collarbone.
“Baby, as much as I love to be like this, I need to check something.” He sent.
“What? What is it?” Joxan sounded drowned in ecstasy and utterly disoriented.
They dragged themselves into the apartment, both stepping into jeans -- commando --, and he put a wife-beater on and exited the apartment barefoot. “I’ll show you in a minute.”
He ran down the four floors to the parking lot, and looked around for several minutes, trying to figure out the trajectory of the slender deflated balloon. Joxan kept bombarding him with questions, and he did not answer purposely.
“Come to the balcony and look down.” He did his best to suppress the amusement in his telepathic tone.
Joxan came to view gloriously bare-chested. The full moon lighted his creamy skin, the broad shoulders, and the dreamy nipples. The white hair on his temples shone like a heavenly dove. The shock and confusion on his face was both comical and otherworldly.
He smiled and sent through their connection. “This...”
The condom was deadly leaking over the hood of Joxan’s Audi.


Captain General Gustavo de Monteblanco sat behind his massive oak desk. He wore a Burgundy doublet that enhanced his swarthy complexion, and he daydreamed about Fernando de Montenegro. How those broad shoulders would melt under his teeth, how delightfully that porcelain skin would feel as he caress it with his beard, smelling the delicious aroma of oranges that he now associated with the brawny new Oidor.
It was a heavenly vision the way Fernando had blushed when the back of his breeches ripped, exposing his tasty crevice. He acted like the proper widower, but there was something truly naughty in him by going about without undergarments.
It would have been madness not to take advantage of that fortuitous event. Although now he regretted a little the way he forced his finger inside the chestnut-haired chunk. He could not help it; the temptation had been overwhelming. Yes, the man had fought, but not too much. That gave him Hope. Well, Fernando also hinted there was some kind of attraction. Cauldrons of Hell, damned Christian scruples. Anyway, Fernando had accepted the invitation to the wedding. By the time they would come back from those nuptials he might be as well undergoing his own honeymoon.
A knock on the door interrupted his calculations. “What now?”
“Captain General, señor, The Marquis of Villalba is requesting an audience with your Excellency. May it be granted?”
His lover, what a nuisance. “Allow him to enter. Do you have your rosary?”
The old man dithered and answered in a tiny voice. “Yes, señor, it’s in my pocket.”
“Very good, meditate a Mystery. I don’t care which, and then interrupt us with any excuse, just imply that I’m needed somewhere else.” He frowned to the old man.
His secretary turned on his heels and left the office murmuring, “Credo in Deum Patrem omnipoténtem...
The affronted lover stormed into the office taking his hat off.  His blond hair was disheveled, and his olive skin flushed. He slumped tragically in a chair facing the desk.
Captain General Monteblanco gave the man a mellow smile, ready to disarm him. “What can I do for you this day, Fermín?”
“My problem is not with the days but with the nights. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I don’t understand...” His smile grew bigger, full of fake concern.
The blond man grumbled. “Your door has been closed for the last four nights. What is going on?
“I slept by myself all those nights. I must have forgotten to unlock your entrance.” It was a lie, but he was not going to explain to his lover that his nights were busy with the memory of the new Oidor. Besides, he needed release, and he could use the seasoned partner that night.
“I think you have another lover, and I will not allow it.” Dark blue eyes shot arrows at him. 
He stood up and paced with menacing slowness toward his lover. He gripped the man by the chin, pulling him up. “You’re not the one to decide if I’d choose a new lover or not.” He grated his words forcing a kiss without unfasten the grip. “My door would be open for you tonight. Don’t miss your chance...”
He jerked his lover back to the chair, and walked toward the door, in that moment his secretary knocked and entered urging him to go to one of the courtrooms.
“Yes, the marquis was already leaving. Good day, Don Fermín. The night will be a lot better.”
He laughed keeping the door open until his lover left the room.
“Where is Oidor Montenegro?
“In his office, Captain General, señor, I guess studying the laws since he doesn’t have any hearings until after you two will have returned from the wedding. As you ordered.”
“Very well, I’m going to be with him for a while. I wish not to be disturbed.”
He left his secretary standing agape. He had not seen Fernando since the presentation day, and he was certainly desperate to be alone with him again. Maybe he could get more than a chaste kiss this time, and that buttery sensation on his finger was not easy to remove. His cock was engorging again inside his breeches remembering the way Fernando had fought.
He rapped softly, and the pale god called him in. Fernando de Montenegro sat on the edge of his desk reading a parchment and looked up. His eyes illuminated when he discovered him. He was in his severe mourning black, but beautiful as an angel.
A true virgin, Fernando blushed as Captain General Monteblanco drew closer.
I’d like to know if his little hole clenches while his face blushes.
“Good morning, Captain General, beautiful day...”
“I told you to call me Gustavo in private.” He took the parchment from the pale hands and settled it carefully on the desk, staring into the emerald pools.
“This is the second time we’ve been in private. I’ve hardly had the chance to get use to that name.” Fernando smiled nervously flashing his pretty, pretty white teeth.
Captain General Monteblanco took one of those sinfully big hands. He kissed the knuckles, admiring the coppery, tiny hairs there.
“Thus you haven’t thought of me at all?” He felt shaken for some unexplained reason.
Fernando took his hand away slowly, politely, and rested it over the Burgundy shoulder.
“I’ve considered you a lot, these days. More than you’d ever know.”
Happiness washed over his body. What a strange sensation, the green-eyes-god squeezed his shoulder gently, and slid his hand to his neck feeling his pulse with a delicate press.
“But I must humbly beg for your forgiveness. I’m afraid I’d need more time to muster enough courage to forget eons of Christian devotion.”
Cauldrons of Hell. Captain General Monteblanco trembled as the other man caressed his beard, his brow, the top of his head and his nape. A thumb played over his lips, and he did not know when he closed his eyes. He opened them to be enthralled by the most spectacular smile heightened by that flirty little mole beside the lower lip and tiny, tiny freckles over the straight nose.
“I... I can... wait...” He stammered without recognizing himself.
“Thank you.” Fernando sidled and sat behind his desk, unruffled.
“Can I have at least a kiss?” He was a desperate enamored boy.
“The kiss I gave you, a hundred years ago, is still searing my lips. I’d not be able to resist another, please forgive me.” Fernando lowered his eyelids in a devastating act of contrition.
Captain General Monteblanco fought to regain his consciousness and behave as an adult, not a teenager in love. “The wedding will be held by the lake, it would be a delightful moment. Do you think you could wear something other than black? It’s bad luck to go to a wedding in mourning.”
“What is your favorite color,” there was a pause. “Gustavo?” The angel arched an eyebrow.
“Perfect.” Fernando murmured cryptically.

That night, the Marquis of Villalba was loved like never before. His expertise was not the reason.
It was because the man, who mounted him, was tousling and grabbing lustrous chestnut hair. Biting and kneading gloriously pale, porcelain skin with the fragrance of oranges.
Captain General Monteblanco made love to someone else.


Those close to my heart call me Armando. 
Damnation, of all the possible scenarios his vivid imagination had provided, nothing could be compared to what was happening. The gorgeous stranger was holding his hands, kissing his knuckles. They were crotch to crotch, staring at each other enthralled. Every fantasy with this man was a gladiators’ battle, and not romantic at all.     
Alejandro’s fantasies were based on his previous experiences. He could not say that he had not had experienced lovers. Far from it, all those men had always been skillful.  It was just that none of them ever took the time to seduce him. Enticement was within the game, not part of the luring process. Actually, he could not recall voluntarily how, many of those penetrating situations started, his memories always sprang to where the swinging was already occurring.
There was a part --a large part-- of his heart chasing Love, but he did not know romance. The whole posture of the man was beyond his comprehension. Alejandro was definitively not expecting a troubadour.
This must be a dream. He was going to wake up in his bed, in his room, in Uncle Antonio’s manor.  Yes, this is the night before the departure. This entire situation could not be real.
But, I can feel his breath caressing my lips. The warm of his crotch against mine. Those burning emerald eyes.
“Are you all right?  You were blushing, and now you are losing color.”  
That sunny voice is real.
Alejandro pushed the man a little to straighten himself and loosed his hands from the grip.
“Thus, you prefer to be a warrior than an adventurer.” His teasing nature was kicking back. He tried to put himself back in well-known territory. 
“I beg your pardon? I don’t understand what you’re suggesting, Don Alejandro.”
“Forgive me, Don Fern... I mean Armando. Fernando means daring, adventurous while Armando means soldier or warrior.” 
The alluring man caressed his chin with thumb and forefinger, meditating.
“Very interesting, and what does Alejandro mean?”
Alejandro felt his face flare abruptly, in a very soft and low voice he said, “Defender of mankind.”
For some unexplained reason, Alejandro was a child who had been caught after shattering a very, seriously expensive vase.
Armando walked pensively away from him. Alejandro allowed his hands to fall to his sides and stared, following the stallion’s movements.  

Armando stopped almost in the middle of the cabin and looked upward to the ceiling, maybe trying to imagine the blue sky outside. The glorious chestnut hair brushed a little pass his shoulders. Armando was presenting his back to Alejandro, but he could imagine Armando with closed eyes by his paused breathing, as in deep concentration.
“Then it makes sense. Don’t you see it?” He said this with his back still facing Alejandro. “A warrior is ought to be by the side of a Defender; specially, the Defender of Mankind.”
With the last phrase, he turned back slowly to peer at Alejandro with foreboding eyes and a sad half smile.
Is he actually implying that we’re meant to be together? He must be playing with me!  
Considering this a game, this man was an extremely talented actor. His distressed bearing spoke of a hurtful realization. Of something, you might seek with your whole being for a lifetime. Except for the fact that once found, it could bring you joy and even satisfaction. However, if snatched, your life would immerse in inconsolable pain.
For sure, it was tempting to think that the impressive match of their names was some kind of prediction. Yet, altogether, it was amusingly ridiculous.
Is there truly such thing as predestination?  Could it be that we crossed paths, before today, just to keep us thinking about each other?
They had not mentioned miss each other. Alejandro had been evoking Armando fiercely, but that did not mean a thing.
It’s just my little demon ruling my body. He sighed.
Maybe he just wants to mount me, and I don’t have a problem with that.
Somehow, those forlorn green eyes told a different story. There was more than manly desire. There was need. There was hope.
I might as well be imagining all those emotions shimmering in his eyes.
A hard knock on the door made them both jump and look to the door in alert. The person knocked again twice, calling their names.
“Don Alejandro? Don Fernando? May I come in?”
It was Captain Moreno. 
Alejandro looked down and realized that he was not wearing his boots.  Armando looked his way and indicated the blanket. Then, he put both palms together, resting one of his cheeks on them, closing his eyes.
Alejandro hurried to lie on the blanket and appear asleep.  He even snored a little.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Ah, Don Fernando! I hope I’m not disturbing you. I just wanted to check on Don Alejandro.”
Armando kept the door ajar.
“He regained consciousness a while ago, but he’s back sleeping now. I think we must allow him to rest a little bit more.”
Armando forced a grin, trying not to appear too eager to discourage the man from prying on Alejandro. He cleared the door. “Would you want to take a look at him?”
The older man answered gingerly, “Just for a moment. I don’t want to awake him.” And he walked slowly preventing any loud noises. He finally stood by the youngling’s feet. “He’s a very handsome young man, so full of life. It’s interesting that my secretary put you two together, since he didn’t know you’re bound to the same place.”
What was the captain talking about?
“Excuse me, Captain Moreno. I don’t understand.”
“You were commissioned, by Doña Mariana to judge as an Oidor at the Real Audiencia of Guatemala. He’s the son of The Captain General of Guatemala.” 
His lucky star was tricking him. He was not just going to spend the voyage with this man. He was going to work for his father. The Captain General was military governor over the territory; he also presided over the Real Audiencia. Maybe it was not a trick of his lucky star, but the pure and eloquent assertion of his fate, as he had inferred when the young man mentioned the meaning of their names.
This may also be an extremely hazardous road since the only advice Father Nithard gave him about his new boss was, “He is a man who does not take traitors and liars kindly. Be aware.”  It might have been an insult, but also, an honest advice. Any advice was welcome when traveling toward the unknown.
“Then I think is very fortunate we are traveling together, don’t you think?” He said this with a broad smile to hide the turmoil in his mind.  “He will help me to understand my new chief.”
“Certainly,” the captain smiled back, appraising him up with interest. “We are ready to raise anchor.  Would you care to join the other passengers on the upper deck?”
“It will be a pleasure, my dear captain.  Don Alejandro shall be fine on his own.” 
And they left the cabin together, to say goodbye to Cadiz.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alejandro lay down until he sensed nobody outside the cabin or near the corridor.  Everything was really quite in his surroundings. Most probably, every other passenger was on the upper deck, waving goodbye to the carnival on the port. This was the last Fleet until August.  It would have been very good to say farewell to his beloved Cadiz, but he needed a moment alone to think hard. This swinging coffin was proving to be devilishly treacherous.
The handsome stranger was destined to work for his father.  Well, that would give him time to be around the green-eyed man beyond the voyage. On the other hand, any situation with this Oidor would be a boiling cauldron of snakes if discovered in the Kingdom of Guatemala. Not just the Spanish Inquisition had bloodhounds everywhere, but his father’s rage would have no limits.
Did this man truly deserve his life destroyed by a fling? Alejandro was not sure what would be the outcome of this voyage. Sharing the room with Armando would be a constant torment whether something happened between them or not.  He had no doubt he wanted to run his hands through that chestnut hair.  Caress the muscles that were bound to be under the well-fitted clothes. Feel that manhood inside his body.
You needed a moment alone to think deeply, not to indulge in fantasies that will certainly lead you to play with your little demon!
His little demon surely needed a penalty.
The brief minutes he shared with Armando before Captain Moreno’s arrival were a hundred pigeons fluttering inside his head. The sun was in its zenith, the cabin was getting scorching, and he needed some fresh air.  Better to go up and mingle with the other passengers, before they started to think that he was sick; or even worse, a flimsy feigner.