“I know you’ll leave me. You’re just waiting for us to get back to Manila, and you’ll leave
me.”
Stanley was curled up in the fetal position on his berth in the compact cabin of the Bayliner
2855 yacht. He and Lance had been anchored off the Hilton Cebu Resort twin towers in
the Philippines for two days, and Stanley had been drinking himself beyond pout and into a
blue funk for three.
“Please, baby, please don’t be like this. You know I wouldn’t leave you; you know I couldn’t
leave you,” Lance murmured.
He sat on the berth beside Stanley and laid his hand on his lover’s belly. This had always
worked before. It wasn’t unusual for Stanley to sink into this mood, if not often this deeply,
and the drink always made it worse. Ever since Stanley had passed his fiftieth birthday, he
had become convinced that Lance, now half his age, would leave him—that his money
wouldn’t be enough to hold Lance. Even Lance’s suggestion that they take this around-the world
trip, just the two of them, alone, most of the time on Stanley’s streamlined yacht,
hadn’t reassured Stanley.
“I’ve grown so old,” Stanley moaned. “Old and dumpy. I saw the looks you were getting the
other night at that club in Manila. I knew they were thinking ‘How can such a well-built
hunk like that be with such an old man when he could be with me?'”
“No you’re not too old, Stan,” Lance said, the exasperation in his voice clear. “You still
have the looks of a model. And here. I grab you here and you are hard as a rock.” He had
placed his hand over one of Stanley’s nipples and squeezed on Stanley’s well-worked
chest muscles. “And you’re still flat as a board here.” Lance put his palm on Stanley’s belly
again. “And you still can get it up here.” He grabbed Stanley’s cock through his Speedo.
“And you still have the sweetest one of these I’ve never known.” Lance was sliding his
hand under the rim of the Speedo at the small of his back.
“No, no, no,” Stanley cried out. He jackknifed out of the fetal position, pushed off of the
bed and away from Lance. “You wanted this sort of vacation because you are
embarrassed to be seen with an old man like me. No, I know you’ll leave me in Manila. I
might as well throw myself off the boat now.” Then, grabbing up an oversized beach towel,
he flounced out of the cabin and to the bow of the boat, where he laid the towel on the
sharply raked windscreen of the cigarette boat and laid down on his back, wanting the sun
to bake the liquor out of him while he watched the twin towers of the Cebu Hilton and the
activity on its beach.
Only a moment later, Lance popped out of the cabin, a panicked look in his eyes. His eyes
wildly scanned the water, looking for a sinking suicidal Stanley, until he saw that Stanley
was sunbathing instead on the bow of the boat.
Mad now, having had enough of this, Lance slipped off his Speedo and came around to
the bow and stood, legs spread, between the sunbathing Stanley and the vista of the Cebu
Hilton’s busy beach and two tall hotel towers. He took his long and thick cock in his hand
and wagged it at Stanley.
“Suck this!” he demanded. “Can’t you see that it’s hard for you?”
“What?” Stanley opened his eyes. And then he opened them even farther, focused on the
midsection of his naked horse-hung young lover. “Lance,” he cried out, “What are you
doing? People will see you.”
“People will see us, Stanley. Not just me. You said I would be too embarrassed to be seen
with you. I’m going to fuck you right here, in full view of everyone in that resort. That’s how
embarrassed I am to be seen with you. And if you won’t suck me, I’ll blow you.” With that,
he knelt between Stanley’s legs, stripped off his Speedo and inhaled Stanley’s cock.
“Oh, god, Lance, oh god,” Stanley cried out. His hands went to the back of Lance’s curly
head and held him close. “Oh, god. All of it . . . yes . . . yes. Oh, god.”
Changing to fisting Stanley’s cock, Lance started moving his lips up across Stanley’s belly
and up onto his nipples and to his lips. He was writhing around on top of Stanley, getting
as close into him as he could.
“Lance! Not here. In the cabin. We must go below. Oh . . . ahhhh.” Whatever else Stanley
was going to say was muffled as Lance brutally attacked his mouth with his own.
After working his mouth until Stanley was almost out of breath, Lance broke away. “No.
Here, Right here, Stanley. I’m going to fuck you for anyone to see who wants to see. I want
you now, here. I love you. I’m never going to leave you. You couldn’t get rid of me if you
wanted to.”
Lance quickly worked his mouth back down Stanley’s torso, and after giving his cock a
little more loving, Lance put his hands under Stanley thighs, rolled them up, and was
diving into Stanley’s hole with his tongue.
As Lance stood back up, his hands still lifting Stanley’s thighs up and spreading them
wide, Stanley looked down at him. “God, Lance. You’re so hard. You’re huge. I never know
how I can take all of you.”
“You always take all of me, Stanley. You’ve got the sweetest ass. I’m hard for you. You
make me hard. Can’t you accept that?”
“Yes, yes. I . . . Arghhhh!”
His ass had accepted all that Lance had for him again, and Lance was fucking him hard,
power driving up between his spread thighs, pushing his back up and down on the raked
windscreen of the yacht.
****
Will Thruston worked hard on the key mechanism of his tenth-floor Hilton Cebu hotel room
door. He was in such a state that he was doing more cussing at the unresponsive lock
than effective key turning. Once in, he tore off his shirt and threw it on the bed, headed
straight for the minibar, grabbed a beer, despite his intent never to take anything from an
exorbitantly expensive hotel minibar, flipped off the cap, stumbled out onto the balcony,
and stood at the railing, trying to gain control of his anguished trembling. He stared hard
out onto the yacht basin, trying to calm down, trying to tell himself these things happened,
that it didn’t mean anything.
But this was the third time this week. He had to face that maybe he was growing unable to
get it up. Maybe he was losing it altogether.
Business hadn’t been all that good this week. This afternoon’s trick, who he had cultivated
for nearly an hour in the hotel bar before landing him, had been ugly and pudgy. And he
had to have been at least in his mid forties. But Will couldn’t let that turn him off. Most of
the marks at this hotel were ugly and fat and old. The younger guys here didn’t have to pay
for it. And Will only did it for the money.
Everything had worked OK at the start. The guy was half drunk when Will helped him to
his hotel room. And he paid up front—what Will asked for without haggling.
Will had planned to fuck him in the shower and then again after the full body massage he
had agreed to as part of the price. Lucky, he hadn’t told the trick of these plans, though.
The man had been more than ready for Will. He was half hard before they got into the
shower, and Will had gone down on his knees in front of the man while water was
cascading over them and gotten him to jack off with a minimum of mouth work on his dick.
And the guy had gone hard and come again when Will had turned him belly to the tiles and
given him a full-tongue rim job. Then Will had planned to fuck him from the rear, but he
hadn’t been able to get it up. It hadn’t helped that the pudgy guy had already hardened and
come twice. Will felt emasculated by that. Twenty years older than him and able to spout
out twice in an hour when he himself couldn’t even get it up. And the worry about it
probably didn’t help either. As a substitute, he’d finger fucked the man while covering him
close from behind for a while, which seemed to satisfy him.
The full body massage on the hotel bed went OK, too. And the trick hardened and came
again while Will was giving him a hand job. Still, Will himself hadn’t hardened up. Maybe
part of that was that the guy gave Will’s cock no attention at all. He seemed happy for Will
to be making all of the moves. This was both good and bad. Good because the guy didn’t
seem to notice that Will wasn’t aroused; bad because Will had promised to fuck him.
Will’s flexible dildo came to the rescue. The mark was so mellow when Will had jacked him
off and then turned him on his belly and rubbed down his back and legs, that when Will at
last mounted him, the guy didn’t seem to notice—or care—that it was a dildo working
inside him rather than Will’s cock. The man went to sleep, and, having already been paid,
Will quickly dressed and left him there.
And he’d come straight back to his own room. Worried and mad, but mostly scared. Was
he finished? Would he ever be able to perform again. This was his “career”; he was a hotel
stud for pay. A good-looking hunk hanging around the pool, waiting for an old rich lady or a
middle-aged businessman wanting to be taken for a ride and willing to pay big bucks for
the fuck. If the hotel got any inkling he was having trouble stepping up to the plate, they’d
toss him out on his ear. They didn’t keep around any duds to fail to service their rich
patrons on demand.
Three more swigs from his beer bottle and Will was able to actually focus on the
magnificent vista of the Hilton Cebu seascape laid out before him.
Oh, my god, what was that? Surely not. Will reached for his binoculars and trained it on a
gleaming white, sleek cigarette boat yacht anchored off the beach.
What were they doing? God, they were fucking. An older, but very trim guy—much more
appealing that any of the marks he’d been stuck with this week—was lying against the
sharply raked windscreen of the yacht, and a younger hunk—hunkier than Will himself, he
had to admit—was hunched between the older man’s spread thighs, pounding away in his
ass. Both naked, fucking, right there, not far off shore, for all on the beach and in the hotel
towers to see.
Will couldn’t take his eyes off them. He felt the binoculars waiver, and he had to fight to
maintain focus on the vigorous fuck the young hunk was giving the older man. The
binoculars were heavy in his hand, which was trembling. He’d return the other hand to the
binoculars to hold them steadier, but his other hand was busy. Without realizing it, he’d
unzipped himself, let his trousers fall to the floor, and he was pulling on his cock. And his
cock was big and hard. His breath was getting ragged, and he masturbated vigorously.
Gloriously alive again.
Maybe all he needed to do was imagine arousing bodies fucking when he was with a
mark. Maybe that would keep him in business for a while. It wasn’t because he couldn’t get
it up—because, by god, it certainly was up now! And it wanted lots of attention.
Edward Frampton got up from the bed, finding himself unable to sleep in the afternoon
despite his exhaustion, and deciding he didn’t really need anything more on than his
sleeping shorts in the middle of a hot Philippines day, went out onto the balcony of his
thirteenth-floor Hilton Cebu hotel tower room.
He collapsed more than sat onto the patio chair. God he was tired. But then he smiled, in
remembrance of why he was tired, why he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night.
He’d never done anything like this before. He had heard that it was this easy in the
Philippines and in some of the other resort hotels throughout Southeast Asia. But he was
shocked at himself—and amused and, yes, proud of his audacity and boldness—to have
tried it here. And it worked a charm.
The roomboy who had brought his luggage up to the room was slight and brown as a berry
and achingly beautiful in an androgynous way. Clearly male, but as beautiful and lithe and
graceful in his movements as a courtesan. In the elevator, they had chatted a bit, and
Edward had been surprised to find that the roomy was in his early twenties. He looked
no older than a teenager. It was a trait of the Filipinos, Edward had noticed during his
various business trips here from Hong Kong. Perpetual youth. He wished he could latch
into that. He was feeling his thirty-six years. Nearly forty and nothing exciting had
happened to him yet. He’d fucked around in gay bars in his twenties, but when he’d been
sent out to Hong Kong, he’d become respectable—and closely watched. He couldn’t get
away with much of anything in Hong Kong. And, although he’d traveled to the Philippines
twice before, and each time had become aroused by the small, well-formed berry-brown
young men of the country, he had been too timid to act on his impulses.
Until this, the third trip. He’d been told that all you had to do in a hotel like this was to ask.
So, when they’d gotten to the room and the room boy had asked if there was anything else
he could do for Mr. Frampton, Mr. Frampton told him what he could do for him and held out
two 1,000 peso banknotes. The room boy’s eyes had bugged out and he’d smiled broadly.
The room boy had proved to be very willing, very able, flexible, resilient, and inventive. He
also, once naked, proved to be very desirable. The years of an adult, the body of a lithe
but well-muscled, perfectly formed youth. And a well-worked hole that not only opened
immediately to Edward’s thickness but also was trained to make undulating love to
Edward’s throbbing cock.
Edward fucked him under the cascading water in the shower, the room boy’s feet
leveraging off the frame of the shower door while his shoulder blades were sliding up and
down on the wet tiled walls opposite, propelled by the strength of Edward’s driving cock.
Edward recharged quickly while the room boy toweled him off and then fucked the room boy
from behind as he was bent on his belly over the back of the room’s upholstered tub chair.
Exhausted then, Edward bedded the room boy, who, still resilient, massaged Edward’s
screaming muscles, including eventually, the reawakened muscle between his legs. In the
darkness of the early night, Edward drifted off, but the room boy awakened him again
within a couple of hours. Edward was stretched on his back and the room boy was riding
his loins hard, drawing yet another ejaculation out of him. Yet another fucking only a
couple of hours after Edward had drifted off nearly paralyzed him. He was groaning hard
and the room boy could get no more than a dribble of semen out of him. Mercifully that
marked the end, and when he woke next—to the light—and to entirely too little sleep and
too much vigorous exercise, he opened his eyes to the thought that maybe 2,000 pesos
was entirely too much to have offered.
It was afternoon before he could struggle out of bed. But he hadn’t slept. Besides being
exhausted, he was incredibly satisfied and pleased with himself. He would have to make
more business trips to the Philippines.
When he felt a bit recovered, he picked up the binoculars from the table beside him and
started to check out the sights around the busy hotel complex. He decided to take a sweep
of the hotel tower next to his for beginners, moving up from the base. When his view
reached the tenth floor of the other tower, he let out a gasp and a “Holy shit!” and had to lift
a second hand to the binoculars to steady his trembling hand.
The man, a Caucasian, like him, was stunningly handsome. Edward instantly recognized
him as a beefy, suntanned hunk he’d seen at the pool as he was taking a walk around of
the facilities before checking in. The man had been a large dose of eye candy, and Edward
had remembered thinking “trophy stud” when a beet-red European with a distinct pouch
and puffy face had spoken to the young man and they’d walked off toward the hotel
together.
Now he was standing at the rail of the balcony of his tenth-floor room in the other tower,
shirtless and his trousers down around his ankles. He was holding binoculars in one hand,
trained out to sea, and he was stroking the loveliest, hardest cock Edward had ever seen.
Edward couldn’t take his eyes off him, and he felt his own cock begin to renew its interest
in spite of the Herculean workout it had gotten the previous night.
Edward was so engrossed in watching the young man masturbate at the balcony rail that
he didn’t hear the door to his hotel room click open and the room boy reappear to make up
the room.
Suddenly, a hand was taking the binoculars out of Edward’s hands. The room boy was
pulling his sleeping shorts off him, and he has holding Edward’s erect cock in his fist as he
moved his thighs around Edward’s, positioned his hole on Edward’s rosy-red bulb, and
started to descend into his lap. Edward threw his head back, took a pert hard brown cock
in both hands, driving it like a stick shift on a sports convertible, his eyes closed but still
seeing that hunk on the other balcony slowly jacking his gigantic meat off, and he sighed in
appreciation of how far 2,000 pesos would stretch.
Stanley had already come, in three jerks and heavy spouting s, as he was spread out on
the window screen of his Bayliner 2855, the palm of his hands on Lance’s tight butt
cheeks, enjoying how they contracted with each thrusting of his young lover’s rock hard
cock up into him. How could he have ever doubted his Lance? It was the liquor. He’d
swear off liquor for good if it kept Lance with him, in his bed, churning his cock inside him.
After ejaculating, Stanley lay back against the windscreen, letting Lance pound away
inside him, knowing it would be several more minutes before he came.
Stanley loved this, but having reached his own climax, reason flooded in to struggle with
emotion, and he started to worry again at the spectacle they were making of themselves.
Binoculars were within reach, so he retrieved them and put them to his eyes and started
scanning the beach and the Hilton Cebu twin towers, checking on who might be watching.
Lance wouldn’t notice. When he was deep in a fuck like this, he became a wild, focused
man, all of his attention locked on the working of his cock inside Stanley. Stanley knew this
was only further evidence that he was still desirable to Lance. Lance couldn’t have even
gotten it up, let alone become lost in the fuck, if he didn’t still want Stanley. Stanley knew
he’d been such a fool to raise doubts.
As he scanned the towers, Stanley’s attention focused on the thirteenth floor of one of the
towers. Two men fucking. A very well presented young man, maybe early thirties, slumped
in a chair, his head thrown back, a look of ecstasy painted all over it. And a small, lithe
brown-bodied man crouched over his pelvis and fucking himself on a thick, long cock in
long, plunging rhythm.
Stanley began to melt and to quicken all at the same time. His cock gave a lurch and came
alive. He reached a hand for it, but Lance slapped the hand away and took charge of the
cock himself, stroking it in fast rhythm with his vigorous fucking.
A triangulated cry of simultaneous release shot out over the Hilton Cebu complex, sending
a flock of disturbed sea gulls screaming and fluttering up into the air. Five long sighs of
satisfaction followed, drifting down in the lapping of the surf onto the resort beach.
