Date: Sat, 24 May 2014 11:39:12 -0400
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Psychic Detective 36
Psychic Detective 36
By: Jake Preston
This is a work of erotic gay fiction, intended for readers who enjoy a
murder mystery in which fully developed characters interact sexually and in
other ways. Their sexual encounters are sometimes romantic, sometimes
recreational, sometimes spiritual, and almost always described
explicitly. My attention is equally divided between narrative, character
development, and sex scenes. If you don't care for this combination, there
are many other excellent "nifty" stories to choose from. And remember that
while nifty stories are free, maintaining a website is not. Please think
about donating at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Writing is usually a solitary avocation, but not necessarily so on
nifty.org, where a longer story appears in installments. If my characters
and my story grab your attention, you can always intervene with suggestions
for improvements. All sincere comments will get a response!
Jake, at jemtling@gmail.com
* * * * * *
Chapter 36
Waterhole Follies
On Maundy Thursday, Salvador, Göran, and Jack went over Jack's
flash-drive case notes on Albino. They compared crime scene details with
police records about serial killings in Yucatán. As the day went by,
they developed a camaraderie which, Salvador said, he hoped would not be
abused if he asked them for a very special favor. "I've got a casita, a
cottage on the Gulf, a twenty-mile drive north. I'd like you to spend the
night with me there. Your friends can join us on the beach in the morning."
Jack and Göran agreed.
"There's something else you want to ask, Salvador," Göran
said. "Don't be shy."
It wasn't like Salvador to be reticent, but this time he was. "It's
a little embarrassing," he stammered.
"Then we're agreed in advance," Jack said, "and now you must tell
us what we've agreed to."
"It would be my honor if you two would allow me to spank you
erotically... nalgadas eróticas, it's a fantasy I have that ...."
Salvador's request was directed mainly to Jack.
"You've got it, Salvador," Jack interjected, leaving it up to his
imagination, and Göran's, whether Salvador was a cangreja novato or a
cangreja experimentado.
"But on one condition," Göran said. "We've got to take Xiu with
us. With Albino on the loose, I don't want him left alone. He can be a
cangreja or an azotado, or just an observador- a spanker, a spankee, or a
spectator- whatever he wants, but he must come with us."
Salvador agreed.
The proposal caught Xiu by surprise, coming from Göran, in his
eyes an unattainable Apollo. Of course he agreed, and why not? In any group
of guys, he was accustomed to being the smallest. Traveling beachward in
Salvador's car, Jack rode shot-gun while Göran and Xiu took the back
seat. The foursome spoke of Yucatán, the scenery, the acrobats from
Papantla, anything to keep their minds off Albino. Their plan for the
evening's entertainment wasn't discussed, either, until anticipation and
flooding testosterone brought the subject of sexual spanking into their
discourse. Xiu fixed his gaze on Göran's tight thigh, imagining its
muscular hardness under the fabric of denim. His musing was interrupted by
a sexy conversation in the front seat of the car.
"Are you nervous about this, amigo?" Salvador asked Jack.
It wasn't really a question, but Jack answered it anyway: "How
could I not be nervous?"
-Tengo un par de paletas de ping pong en mi equipage, Salvador said
with spattering emphasis on the four Ps, 'a pair of ping pong paddles',
with a fifth P in the luggage, 'equipage'.
Jack returned Salvador's glance with a silenic smile punctuated
from above by two prominent dimples. He guided Salvador's hand to his
thigh. "It's yours if you want it," he said.
"I don't know how to respond," Salvador replied. His reticence was
not entirely insincere. What was he but a mortal, like Admetus when he was
admitted to Apollo's shining playground?
"Just say yes," Jack laughed.
"Yes, please," Salvador replied, mindful of manners.
Jack guided Salvador's hand between his legs and over his basket,
then back to his thigh again. "Do you want to spank this?" he asked.
"Yes, please."
Jack smiled. "Do you want to spank and spunk?"
"Yes, please," Salvador said, and then asked, "What is 'spunk'?"
"Spunk is when you shoot sperm up my culo," Jack said.
"Yes, please."
"What are you guys planning up there?" Göran asked.
Jack glanced back. "Just giving Salvador a lesson in English," he
said.
"Well, tell him to keep his eyes on the road," Göran said. He
winked at Xiu, who moved closer. Göran offered him his hand. The
connection was tentative, but promising. Xiu decided that he liked American
men. He had fucked Jack. His silent flirtation with Göran was promising.
He had never been lucky with macho Mexicans, who looked askance at a
short-statured Maya lacking an ounce of Spanish blood.
* * * * * *
Salvador's cabin was hidden in a pine-wooded copse just beyond the
sand-line on the beach. From the picture-window in his parlor, when
pine-boughs shifted in sea-breezes, one could peer at the beach and a
current-sogged sun-brightened sandbar that reminded Jack, who was educated
at Emory, of the sandbar on Jackson's Island where Tom Sawyer, his bosom-
buddy Joe Harper, and his outlaw-buddy Huck Finn played at 'pirates',
'circus clowns', and 'wild Indians' in a boyland between Slavery and
Freedom in a prelapsarian moment before the illusory clouds of Free Will
darkened the scene and the outlaw among them (he alone) chose the freedom
of Illinois, if only by predestined accident while exploring the Island
again for the first time, as if he had never been there before, only then
encountering Nigger Jim, quite unexpectedly, and set out with him on a raft
of adventures in waters more deeper and dangerous.
From this pine-wooded prospect a tall pallid malevolent stranger
fixed his gaze on Waterhole Follies. The naked foursome jogged through
loose sand and immersed themselves in the whiteness of surf. All four men
looked youthful to Albino, although one of them was older... the detective
from Mérida. He watched the young men floating on their backs, white
bellies brilliant in the sun. They didn't' ask who seized them fast in the
water. They didn't seem to notice which body puffed and declined, pendant
and arching, beaded with water. They didn't seem to care who they soused
with salty spray.
"Have you ever wondered how swimmers got from point A to point B
before the Australians invented the crawl?" Jack asked no one in
particular. His Emory education hadn't dampened his innate sense for irony.
"I thought the Lakota invented the crawl," Göran laughed, and
ducked Jack under the water.
Vultures are like eagles, as the ancient Greeks knew when they
couldn't decide of Prometheus's liver was ravaged by one or the other when
he was chained to a rock below Scythian seacliffs. A vulture is like an
eagle in another way, too: he doesn't like to share a tree. Atop his
bark-boned fiefdom he sits like a solitary monarch of all he surveys. So it
was unusual to see two vultures sharing a branch on a pine overlooking the
beach north of Mérida; unusual, but necessary, because in epic
tradition, always spirit-birds perch in pairs on a branch and chatter about
human affairs. In the light of late afternoon, two pairs of vulture-eyes
fixed on Albino, whose eyes were fixed on Salvador the Mexican detective,
who should have been looking for shark-fins but was gazing on Xiu, who
gazed on Göran and Jack sporting in the water, oblivious to the multiple
gazes of man and bird.
Albino fancied himself a death-spirit, the 'Snatcher'. How
happiless did he visage seem! When he breathed, the piney fragrance of
shoreline turned pestilential, souring even the surface of the sea with his
sinister souflation. Drawn to young men in groups, he was, from which he
snatched only one, the better to inspire terror in the others. At Uxmal his
attention was drawn to a group of Maya guides. He chose the most vivacious
one as his object of homicidal obsession, but his purpose was foiled when
Jack took a liking to him and swept him off to Mérida, as if on a magic
carpet. Albino didn't like that, but it wasn't the first time his plans
were foiled. He could be flexible. Now he found a new group, four men on
the beach north of Mérida. Which one did he like best?
Albino's thoughts drifted back to Lake Ashawa. One time he saw a
mother duck swimming along the shoreline, trailed by eight
ducklings. Suddenly, in an almost inaudible splash, one of the ducklings
disappeared, snatched by a snapping-turtle that lurked below in the
muck. The other ducklings scattered randomly, chirping in tinny duck-peeps
of terror while Mama Duck herded and hustled them into deeper water, across
the bay to the rocky safety of an island. How Albino admired that turtle,
not for devouring a duckling but for terrorizing the others! A murder in
solitude was easy. Anyone could do that, but snatching a victim rom his
friends was fair game for a hunt.
Which swimmer did he like best? The homeliest of them looked
beautiful. The Maya magician had slipped through his fingers by a frivolous
flirtation with Jack; perhaps he didn't deserve the honor of being
sacrificed by the Death-Shaman. If he took Göran or Jack (he knew who
they were), his triumph would be spoken of in three states, but the victory
would be hollowed out by the fact that they had no law enforcement
authority in México. If he took the detective, Mérida cops would
swarm the beach. It was a logical equillopence: no choice seemed better
than any other. In the absence choice, maybe he should settle for the
opportunity of the moment. The detective's attention was riveted on
Waterhole Follies. He (Albino) could act now and the guy wouldn't see it
coming. Albino stepped out of the brush and stood at the edge of the
sand-line. He walked a few steps toward the detective who stood duck-naked.
A vulture swooped down and stood in the sand, midway between the
detective and the surf. A fish-corpse lay at his feet but the vulture
ignored it and looked past the detective to some unknown figure near the
copse. Just then, a second vulture swooped down and stood a few yards
away. The villainous ghastly lanky white humanoid creature stepped back
into the brush. The detective caught a glimpse of him, but then his gaze
shifted seaward, beyond the follies of Göran, Jack, and Xiu. Caught
between a white devil and the deep blue sea, Salvador called out,
"Tiburón, tiburónnnn, tiburones!" Xiu translated his call for the
others: "Shark, shark, sharks!" Two dark fins circled in the waves as the
men swam toward the safety of the beach. They circled in closer. Göran
was the last man out of the water. A few yards behind him, the fins and the
top dark-gray part of a shark was visible, but it was only white surf that
clutched at his naked thighs as he jumped out of reach. While this was
going on, Albino escaped through the greenery copse and out of sight.
"Did they say anything?" Jack asked when Salvador told them about
Albino and the vultures.
"Did who say anything?" Salvador asked. "Albino?"
"The vultures, did they say anything?" Jack repeated.
Salvador looked at him quizzically.
"Some species of birds can take on human voice," Göran
explained. "Whenever that happens, the Lakota believe them to be human
spirits, come to deliver a message from Manitou, unless they're on a
private mission. That's what Jack told me, anyway."
"I heard no human voice. Only gulls mewing," Salvador said.
They trudged through the dry loose white sand on the part of the
beach that was beyond the reach of the tide. Jack and Salvador took the
lead, walking side by side. Jack was telling Salvador not to worry about
missing his chance to catch Albino, because (he said) he'd have another
chance at Chichen Itza. Salvador was skeptical: "How can you know that?"-
and Jack was saying it was because of the vultures. In some mysterious way
they communicate with Göran, he was saying to Salvador. Anxious to avoid
this conversation, Göran kept behind them and walked a slow pace so Xiu
could catch up with him.
Xiu looked at Göran's body and saw that he was partly tanned by
the sun. He seemed a tabula rasa that was beginning to accumulate colors
snatched from the beach. He hoped that Göran wouldn't lose the silvery
glisten that seemed to radiate from his skin. Göran's posterior nudity
in motion inspired admiration in Xiu, and a glimmer of desire. He dared not
feel lust in the absence of a sign that it might be returned. Jack would
have laughed and said "Go for it!" But there was no way he could be
Jack. In their water-follies, Xiu had handled Göran's body, grasped his
legs, probed his inner thighs, but then they were three boys
frolicking. Their walk on the beach, away from the sharks, felt like a
transition to grown-up same-sex desire. A voice in his head whispered:
"Stop playing the foolish virgin. Light the oil in your lamp." It felt like
a telegraphic message from Jack. He and Salvador burst out laughing. What
were they talking about now? Were they sharing a conspiratorial joke about
erotic spanking? How godlike of Jack to submit without losing an ounce of
apollonian dignity!
Xiu caught up with the object of his admiration. He wondered if Hand
Schmidt looked like this in posterior nudity. Hans was a blond, blue-eyed
German tourist whom he had courted at Uxmal. They made a connection and an
agreement to meet in the evening at the bar in Hans's hotel on the
perimeter of the ancient Maya ruin. Xiu had arrived promptly and nursed a
Negra Modelo for two hours before calling the front desk on his cellphone
to send a message to Hans's hotel room. He spoke in English to mask his
identity. "I'm sorry, Seńor, but the only guest by that name is a
Mrs. Gertrud Schmidt in a single room," came the courteous reply. That was
two summers ago, and anyway, Göran was better looking, better mannered,
and, more important, present on the scene. Gay man can sometimes be cruel
to each other for no apparent reason. Göran wasn't like that.
Xiu wondered at Salvador's easy possessiveness toward Jack, who
accepted the relation and encouraged it, but there were some things he
didn't know. Salvador had admired Jack from an unattainable distance, too,
but after working with him on the mystery of Albino, they developed a
friendship in which Jack was approachable and attainable; inviting, in
fact. Jack didn't just fall into Salvador's arms. For two days they
courted. Salvador unlocked the doors to the Policía in Mérida and
gave him the help that he needed. They had already planned an official
visit so Salvador could study policing methods and public relations on the
reservation in Lakota, followed by a week's vacation at Wayward Island
Resort on Lake Ashawa. Salvador's anticipated conquest of Jack wasn't a
sudden appropriation. I had to be earned.
Xiu's musing was interrupted by voices overheard. "Will we be
exchanging partners?" Jack was asking, and Salvador responded, "We
shouldn't. The main point about erotic spanking is to form an intense bond
with your partner. Pain is given and received for the sake of bonding.
That requires mutual concentration. An exchange of partners would be a
distraction. Of course, if I'm outvoted, well,...." The rest of his
sentence was lost in a gust of wind on the beach.
Xiu noticed that Goran's ass-cheeks had matching dimples that pooled
and bobbed when he walked, accentuated by the effort of trudging loose
sand. Jack looked back for a moment. "Xiu thinks you're out of his
league," he said to Göran.
"Thanks," Göran said, surprised to be in a league. Modesty came to
him as naturally as courtesy and kindness. He stopped in his tracks,
butt-naked strut-brazen, and glanced round to give Xiu a provocative
smile. Xiu was three or four steps behind. Seconds later his index fingers
fondled the matching dimples in Göran's supple ass-cheeks. While
Salvador and Jack walked ahead, Göran parted his legs theatrically to
make a show of the valley between two moons reflecting afternoon sunshine
fringed with remnants of dried sea-salt. So many sexy details go unnoticed
in life, but not by Xiu on this occasion.
Xiu accepted Göran's quiet invitation. With two fingers he
traveled a path from the base of his spine down the curvature of his
cleft. Approaching the portal, he discovered a soft furriness in the
tracery, from which tiny specks of sea-salt flaked from his fingers. His
intercursal hairs were delicate and light, visible on close-up inspection,
a task that Xiu performed gladly, determined (as he was) to omit none of
the anatomical secrets of Göran.
Not the least of which was a rosebud-pink palpitating aperture, so
virginal in appearance (for Xiu was accustomed to brown) that the Maya
magician imagined Göran as a wild Röselein waiting for
defloration. The sting of Hans Schmidt's elaborate snub, which for two
years had taunted his injured psyche and made him feel unworthy of the
Germanic giants he admired, vanished. In this brief episode, imagined as a
contest between two sorcerers, Göran had bested him by banishing a dark
shadow of self-doubt, for the tall blond American was in some sense a
magician, a Xiu instinctively knew. Göran sighed without flinching when
Xiu grazed the rose- bud ridges and inserted the distal phalanx of his
fuck-finger, gaining just enough leverage for a turn of the screw. Jack and
Salvador crossed the sand-line and vanished into the copse where they
followed the trail to the cabin, but for the moment, Xiu was preoccupied
with the anatomical trail that led to the penetralia of Göran, whose
cock responded in almost full-flag erection.
Seeing no one else on the beach, Xiu withdrew his finger and gave
Göran a swat on the rump.
"Oooo, that smarts!" exclaimed Göran, not without a glancing smile
directed as Xiu, who administered a second swat, and a third, and a fourth,
to Göran's bottom. Göran ooooed without flinching. His cock throbbed
in Xiu's left hand. With his right, he delivered a battery of blows to
Göran's ass-cheeks, until they looked like two white moons that blushed
with palm-broad rivers of redness.
"Don't make me cum," Göran said gruffly. He took Xiu by the
hand. They trudged side by side to the sand-line. Then Xiu followed
Göran up the narrow trail to the cabin. Lust came to him, watching the
moving parts of Göran's curvaceous butt, and Xiu realized that his
star-struck admiration was not incompatible with same-sex
desire. Admiration from afar was no bar to possession.
On the one-man-at-a-time trail, Göran turned around and faced
Xiu. They stood between a white-blooming sac nicte and a red-blooming xukul
nicte, Yucatecan terms for 'flor de Mayo' and 'tulipan chino'. "About the
adventure before us, it's my first time," Göran said. "I'm glad we're
doing it together. I couldn't ask for a sexier partner. I wanted to say
that before we join the others. We got thrown together by chance because
Salvador and Jack chose each other, but if I were free to choose, I'd
choose you."
They clasped each other's butts. Göran stooped to engage his cock
with a swordfight with Xiu. Göran wanted to say more and it was Xiu's
responsibility to make that possible. He broke off a sprig of white
blossoms from and planted it above Göran's right ear. "In Yucatecan
mythology, the sac nicte signifies virginal sacrifice to a dominant
partner," he said. "The xukul nicte signifies a dominant partner's passion
and loyalty."
"You Tarzan, me Jane," Göran said, somewhat glumly.
"That's part of it," Xiu replied. "The white and red blossoms are
gifts of trust in all shared secrets, including sex."
"I'm pledged for marriage to Jésus," Göran replied. "If I give
you these red blossoms, it would mean you beat him to it in the passion of
the moment."
"The bond can't be broken, and it's more than friendship, but nothing
prevents you from having two husbands. If we exchange flowers, it means
that we're united in mutual equality, no matter what sex roles we play. If
you sub for me, the red flower means that I am bound to you in equality,
even in my most secret thoughts."
Göran broke a spring of red blossoms from the xukul nicte and
planted it in the fold above Xiu's right ear. He broke another for Xiu's
left ear. "Now you are two times my dom," he said.
"Does that mean I get to breed you?" Xiu laughed.
"It does," Göran said evenly.
Xiu thrust his hand between Göran's legs and watched his eyes
widen when a fuck-finger probed the rose-budded garden up to the middle
phalanx, and wriggled like a vanguard platoon in preparation for the
invasion of innumerable micro-soldiers who already were stirring and edgy
for release from their encampment in Xiu's scrotum. "I will breed you," Xiu
declared.
"In that case I'm game for a game of spank and spunk," Göran said.
No equivalent term could be found in Spanish or Yucatecan, so
Salvador and Jack adopted 'spank and spunk' as the name of the game they
would play, not without gleeful reflection on Salvador's part that he would
bet to breed Jack, too. Breeding seems more erotic when it's decided
beforehand, getting the recipient to agree to it in the pure light of
reason. For a bottom, the intensity of coitus is enhanced by gender-bending
transgression and keeping a promise reluctantly made. For a top, pleasure
is enhanced by anticipation and the fulfillment of phallic potential. No
longer dispatched into onanist exile, his multitudinous soldiers troop
forward to colonize a new anatomical world, their DNA absorbed into another
man's bloodstream.
Göran and Xiu got questions about the flowers in their hair. It
was Salvador's business, and Jack's, because they had made it part of the
game. "Red is for dom, white is for sub," Göran said matter-of-factly.
-Bueno saber qu'estamos en el mismo equipo, Salvador said: "Good to
know we're on same team. Stick with me and we'll make these boys squirm in
exquisite submission.
They engaged in foreplay (or was it fourplay) until Göran and Jack
said they were ready. Salvador said they were naughty boys for swimming
with the sharks- a spanking offense. "What about you?" Göran asked
Xiu. "You were swimming with the sharks, too!"
"Your insubordination will get you punished in double measure," Xiu
replied while he kissed Göran tenderly.
"In that case, what are you waiting for?" Göran asked
defiantly. The truth is that Xiu was too kind-hearted to be a persuasive
azotador.
"So many ways to sin around here," Jack pitched in. "You can punish
me for talking to the vultures, for all I care."
The unrepentant sinners were taking out to the balcony and lined up
at the railing. Ass- arched they stood while Salvador delivered a
resounding swat to Jack's rump and Xiu did the same to Göran. Other
swats and smacks resounded in the dusky air of the beach. The only other
sound was the sea. Afterwards, Jack and Göran knelt and sucked the cocks
of their azotadores. They were lined up again for another bruising.
"We must swat only their butts, always with an open hand. It makes
lots of noise without doing injury," Salvador reminded Xiu. Göran's
white ass reddened with palm-sized marks of Xiu. "Good job!" Salvador said,
and wolf-whistled.
"Do you want to see what I'm getting? Göran's ass is amazing," Xiu
said to Salvadore. "Open the gate to paradise," he said to Göran.
"Yes, master," Göran said. He was getting into this 'dom-sub'
thing. He spread his legs and ass-arched. Salvador closed in for a look.
"It's a tight sweet pink little rosebud," Xiu said. "It looks even
better in daylight when you can make out the colors, like a pink button on
a white pillow-cover.
"I've got a flashlight," Salvador said. While he went inside to fetch
it, Xiu stood between Jack and Göran and administered apertureal probes
with his fuck-finger. They tightened their sphincters synchronically.
"Good to see that our boys are getting into a compliant mood,"
Salvador said when he returned with his flashlight and KY, and that's not
an abbreviation for Kentucky. "You boys get closer together. Let's take a
look at brown-eyes first."
Jack spread his legs and arched. Xiu held the flashlight while
Salvador examined his hole. "Spread it spread it apart with your fingers
and you'll see a reddish inner ring, surrounded by aureole-brown," Xiu
said. Salvador inserted a KY'd finger into the limpid hole.
"Xiu's already been up there," Jack said, always looking for a new
way bait Salvador. "Göran's fascination with Xiu will cost him a
groaning."
Now they examined Göran and saw that his colors were entirely
different from Jack's. "Pink as a rosebud, like you said," Salvador
exclaimed. "A butterfly-hole, pink as pussy. This one's a
mariposa-in-waiting."
"Don't let him get to you, buddy," Xiu whispered in Göran's ear,
loud enough for the others to hear.
"Want to see what's going up there next?" Salvador showed Göran
his lube-glistened finger. "It's all about ass. We mustn't let our boys
forget that." Since Salvador had appropriated Göran, Xiu serviced Jack
while they finger-fucked in a synchronic rhythm and Jack kept an arm around
Göran's shoulder while they kissed. The sounds of Yucatán graced the
scene: orchestral cicadas, the never-ending murmur of the tide, the rustle
of trees in a breeze. The occasional bark of a dog in some distant house
could be heard only between tidal murmurs when the wind died down.
"Let us commit to memory the shape of these tight little assholes,"
Salvador said, "the better to compare them to the anal gapes they'll be
showing after we've fucked 'em."
Spanking resumed. For that they returned to their designated
partners. Göran's rump reddened as before, but Jack's Lakota skin
absorbed the blows without a trace. Tears ran down Göran's face, but he
neither flinched nor cried out. Jack's innate stoicism made him a more
difficult subject. He showed no emotion at all.
"It's not a test of manhood, Jack," Salvador said. "We're in a safe
space where you can set manhood aside and experience alternative sex. Do it
for Göran. He's on the edge and ready to cross over.
Swat, swat! "You'll have to hit me harder than that if you want hear
me cry out," Jack said. He did. Jack yelped. Then Göran cried out, as if
he had been given permission to make some noise. At first it was just a
performance, part of the drama. Then they started yelping and howling
spontaneously.
Time for a break. Salvador and Xiu comforted their partners and gave
them permission to kiss their armpits. Axillingus was followed by another
round of spanking on the balcony. Then Salvador and Xiu took their places
at the railing and arched. "Get down there," Salvador said. Jack and
Göran knelt for analingual performances, their tongues synchronized by
tidal rhythms.
It was time to retire to the bedroom. Göran and Jack lay facing
each other, half-kneeling with their butts on opposite sides of the
bed. Xiu and Salvador administered nalgadas eróticas in synch while
Göran watched Salvador spanking Jack and Jack watched Xiu spanking
Göran. Tears rolled down Göran's cheeks while his ass-cheeks
reddened again. Jack yelped and cried out, not for himself but for
Göran. The spanking wasn't getting harder. Quite the opposite: Salvador
thought that Xiu was hitting Göran too hard and cautioned him to tone it
down. "The accumulation of blows, not severity, that will make them
submissive," he said. Then Salvador had another surprise: two matching
vibrators, with which Göran and Jack were rewarded.
Over-the-knee spanking came next, difficult to manage with athletic
hunks like Göran and Jack, but they toned down to it. In that position
the blows came down gentle, but more personal and more erotic. They
alternated between prone-spanking and over-the-knee spanking, taking
vibrator-breaks in between.
"We're waiting for you to tell us when it's time to use the paddles,"
Salvador said. "Then we can fuck."
"I didn't know it was up to us," Jack said.
"It was always up to you," Salvador said. "You could have stopped us
at any time. In a proper domination game, the sub is always in control."
"Now he tells us," Göran said glumly.
"I think we're ready now," Jack said. "That vibrator has swelled my
prostate and given me blueballs, not to mention an itch up the culo."
Salvador tossed Xiu one of the ping pong paddles. They sat at the
side of the bed. Jack got into position over Salvador's knees. Göran did
the same with Xiu. "Make sure the paddle comes down flat on the butt,"
Salvador said. "We don't want the edge of the paddle to hit them. Start
out gentle and don't smack them hard. You've got more strength in your arm
than you realize. Now's not the time to use it."
Even after these cautions, the paddling-session evoked yelps and
howls from Göran and Jack, and American idioms that would have seemed
extreme to Xiu and Salvador if their native language had been English-
"Fuckin' sonuva bitch! Fuck you too, bastard! Goddamn muthahfuckah!"
Vulgarisms in any language seem benign to foreigners.
One last time on the vibrator got them aching for cock. It was not
yet to be, for as Salvador said, "we've still got to paddle you prone on
the bed." They assumed their positions. More swear-words and howls
followed. Göran's butt was as red as the surface of the ping pong
paddle. Jack showed some marks, too. Suddenly, Salvador gave a signal. He
and Xiu tossed their paddles aside and jumped their partners. Penetrated
simultaneously, Jack and Göran let out a unison howl that would have
reminded a North Country denizen of timberwolves across a field at
night. The fucking started out rough but turned gentle, as Salvador and Xiu
strove to prolong the joy of intercourse while Jack and Göran, still
facing each other, semi-embraced and kissed.
Xiu flipped Göran and missioned. His army of miniature soldiers
would not be delayed much longer. Sensing this, Göran let himself
orgazz. His jizzy fragrance wafted from between their bellies and filled
the room, adorning their makeshift cathedral of Manlove with the odor of
same-sex sanctity. Xiu shot a ocean of cum into Göran, but he had so
much energy pent up that he flipped his partner and fucked him again,
intercursally. This time it was Salvador's turn to follow Xiu's lead. He
and Jack missioned and spooged, but between them it was Jack who got a
second wind. Göran prevented him from jacking off. He motioned for Jack
to mount from behind. Jack and Göran rediscovered the joy of loving each
other, an aspect of their friendship that they had too long neglected.
So it transpired after parallel play that each man had a different
experience. Salvador fucked the man of his dreams. Xiu fucked the man of
his dreams, twice. Göran got fucked three times, by two men. Jack got
fucked, and fucked in return. No one had cause to complain about the
boredom of 'spank and spunk', although neither Göran nor Jack could
confirm that they would play this game again anytime soon.
"We'll talk about that when I visit you in Lakota," Salvador said.
"One thing I know about gay men: they always come back for more."