A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 15

"He's 'had' me!" Rayne Wilde said atonally.

"Not just to fuck you," Aldo elaborated, more quietly now. He stared ahead through the windscreen of the Alfa, his dark eyes prickling with an emotion that scared him. "He wants you completely. He wants you to be a part of this, of everything he does. He wants you in his bed and on his arm. He wants other men to see that you belong to him, completely."

"He can fuck off then!" Rayne snapped back at him. "I don't belong to anybody! What does he think I am, anyway? Some kind of fucking lapdog! Just because I let men pay for my body doesn't mean that just anybody can have me. Okay? I went with you today because I wanted to! I let him have me the other night because I thought it would be a... an experience. Right? I wanted to know how it would feel. So stop thinking it all means something when it fucking doesn't and none of you has a fucking clue! Just drive the fucking car, Aldo!"

Rayne whipped his head around so smartly that Aldo heard the muscles in his neck pop. He was breathing rapidly; the kind of quick, sobbing breaths that said he was trying desperately hard not to cry. Aldo considered putting his arms around the boy but his body language did not invite consolation. He did not want to have to explain to Paddy that Rayne had run away from him in the middle of a strange town. Taking a deep breath, the older man turned the key in the ignition and the engines growled into life. The sleek little car pulled away from the kerb and as they drove back to the Cap that was the only sound between them.

SEEING STARS:

Ant watched from the roof of Daniel's boat as the familiar figure stalked back down to the marina from the direction of the car parks. Mysteriously, Rayne was wearing billowing green pants that looked like they belonged to some kind of harem dancer. He also wore hand-painted hi-top sneakers, a dishevelled headscarf and enormous, green sunglasses. As he came closer Ant recognised the set of his jaw and the purposeful nature of his stride. Someone had pissed him off royally this morning and Ant exulted privately at the thought.

Craig and Neil hooted derisively from the rear deck where they had been supping margaritas since just before lunchtime.

"What 'ave you come as?" one of them demanded, laughing hysterically. "Carmen fuckin' Verandah?"

"Where's your fruit-bowl, babe?" the other cackled, clutching his sides.

"Shut your stupid fuckin' holes before I find something to shut them for you! Permanently!" Rayne warned, pushing them both aside and storming onto the boat. Ant heard him yell; "Get out!" from somewhere deep inside the vessel and a door slammed violently.

Thierry came stumbling towards him, eyes wide with shock as he entered the dayroom. Fortunately Daniel and Isolde were having lunch somewhere in Port Nature but Terry also came wandering out of one of the bedrooms rubbing the sleep from his eyes and muttering; "Wha's goin' on?"

"He threw me out of the bedroom, Antoine!" Thierry protested, his blue eyes glistening with emotion. "Il etait comme une bete sauvage."

Terry rolled his eyes. "Let me guess!"

"I'll sort it out," Ant sighed. "Don't worry."

He tapped quietly on the bedroom door when the sound of slamming and crashing indicated a violent occupation of his sleeping quarters. From beyond the door Rayne shouted; "Fuck off and leave me alone!"

"You're in my room," Ant pointed out rationally.

"I'm getting my fucking stuff, then you can have your poxy room!" the boy snarled back at him.

Ant pushed the door open and stepped inside, surveying the chaos. The duvet had been ripped physically from the bed and was strewn across the wooden floor like a collapsed tent. Cabinets and drawers were open and the contents had been flung out at random. Rayne had shed the shades and scarf and was stuffing his things into the little canvas satchel he had brought with him from London. He ignored the intrusion completely.

"What's wrong now?" Ant asked in a placid tone, folding his arms as he leant in the doorway.

"I told you to fuck off," Rayne growled without looking at him.

"And I'm telling you I won't," the older man responded firmly. "What right do you have to come stomping in here and turfing people out of bed? Thierry never did you any harm."

Now the boy stopped his frantic raiding of the drawers for a moment and looked back at him with wide, angry, tearful eyes.

"Didn't take you long to replace me with that little blond slut, did it?" he sneered vehemently. "Bet you couldn't wait for me to be out of the way so that you could get between his legs. Nice and submissive for you is he? Lets you do whatever you like to him, heh?" He fluttered his eyelashes and wrapped his arms around himself, affecting a crude French accent; "Ohhh Antoine, tie me up and 'ave me 'owever you want me! I love your big English dick in me!"

Ant took three strides across the room and slapped him hard. The crack of his open palm across Rayne's left cheek knocked the boy sideways and echoed dully in his own ears. Rayne did not make a sound. He righted himself quickly, looking a little shocked but also triumphant. Now he shook his head at Ant grimly.

"Enjoy that, did you?" he asked more quietly. "Feel like a man now, do you?"

"If you'd been less of a whore I'd not have looked at Thierry even once," Ant told him in a tight little voice. He was shocked at himself. Until the last couple of weeks he had never raised a hand to anyone in anger but this was not the first time he had struck Rayne Wilde. And the boy was dangerously close to the truth. He 'had' enjoyed it, in a perverse kind of way. It was satisfying to wipe the smug look off his pretty face. When he slapped Rayne it was the only time he felt that he had earned a genuine reaction from the boy. Albeit briefly he got a flicker of true emotion, then Rayne shut him out again. "I'd have moved heaven and earth for you," he declared, feeling the anger rise within him. "But you're a little bitch! You don't give a fuck about anyone but yourself! Now this is my room and if I want Thierry to sleep in my bed then he can. If you want to use it you can come and ask my permission. Go and apologise to him, now."

Rayne looked incredulously at him. At first he did not move. It was as if the slap had rooted him to the ground. Then he grabbed a last handful of stuff and forced it into the bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder and snatching up his guitar case furiously.

"Go and fuck yourself!" he snarled as he tried to push past Ant and out into the corridor.

The older man grabbed him by the shoulders and physically threw him back into the bedroom. It was as if the fury galvanised him. He was overcome with a kind of blind rage that was so energising that it even gave him an incredible hard-on. Rayne's legs tangled with the long, black case in his left hand and he went down, crumpling to the floor at Ant's feet, although he was struggling to get up again almost immediately.

"You... you... fuckwit! What the fuck...?" he screamed as Ant grabbed him by the waistband of his silk pants and hauled him over to the bed. He dumped Rayne unceremoniously on the mattress.

"Dirty little bitch!" he panted, shaking his head. "You think that you can spend a couple of nights in Big Boy's bed and suddenly that makes you untouchable? Is that it? You reckon you're too good for us now, do you?"

"Nnnn.... No!" Rayne shook his head automatically. He was wriggling backwards across the mattress, huffing rapidly as he tried to put some distance between himself and his former rescuer. "I don't think that. And that's not... it's not what happened."

"Liar!" Ant spat out. "Everyone on the Cap knows that he's fucked you!"

The colour rose to Rayne's cheeks instantly as he struggled off the bed, staggering to his feet. There was no point in his denying it. That flush of scarlet betrayed him completely. Ant felt sick at the very thought of it being true. He found himself praying that Rayne would argue. His silence only served to implicate him more deeply.

"Little slag!" Ant exclaimed disgustedly, at last. "You dirty, randy, lying whore! Did you beg him for it, eh? Did you spread your whoring legs and plead for his big cock? You're a sick little bitch!"

"I didn't...!" Rayne protested, finding his tongue. "Ant, it 'wasn't' like that!"

"I don't care what it was like," Ant yelled at him, making him flinch more violently than he had from the slap. "I would have done anything for you. I'd have looked after you like a princess, but he comes along with his big knob and his big wallet and you're bending over for him before he's even through the door!"

"This was 'your' idea!" Rayne screamed back at him, shaking his head furiously. "'You' brought me here! 'You' wanted me to shag other men to get your fucking money back! Well I'm fuckin' doin' it, all right! I'm doing what 'you' wanted! I'm making money for 'you'! And you're tucked up here nice and cosy with someone else in your bed while I get my arse ripped out and cum pumped all over me and people film it all and have a good laugh about it! I 'hate' you! I hate 'all' of you!"

He ripped the filmy green shirt physically off and threw it on the floor then wrenched open the button fly of his green trousers and let them drop, stepping out of them with a shameless defiance that made Ant's heart beat faster.

"Like that, do you? That's what you wanted isn't it?" Rayne sneered at him knowingly. "Come on then, bend me over! Shove it in me! Show me what I'm missing! Show me how fuckin' good it could be!"

When Ant just stared at him, swallowing the sudden dryness in his throat, Rayne made a quick, disgusted noise somewhere between a sneeze and a laugh and crouched down to fish about in his bag. He pulled on his torn, pale blue jeans quickly and buttoned them without looking up at the older man. Now he picked up the bags again.

"I'm going," he said more firmly. "Don't try to stop me or I'll scream rape 'til someone calls the fuckin' police."

His gaze was a pale, painful void. Ant held his hands out wide and tried to block his path without manhandling him. His heart was suddenly beating too quickly. This was not what he had intended at all.

"Wait..." he implored. "Rayne, don't just... I'm sorry, okay. I never meant to say any of that stuff. I was jealous, that's all. I was jealous that you were with him. I wanted you so much."

The boy threw his weight onto one leg, studying Ant's face with a raised eyebrow. He did not put the bag or the guitar case down. The tip of his tongue ran between his lips slowly and he stared back at Ant with a solemn, contemplative frown.

"You wanted me, huh?"

"I still want you. I only want you," Ant vowed ardently. "You drive me insane."

"You were already insane," Rayne told him with a small, cynical smile. "That's what I liked about you. Be Thierry's hero if that's what you want, Ant. I don't care. At least 'he' might appreciate it."

He nudged the other man aside with the neck of his guitar case and walked out. This time Ant did not try to stop him. He sat down on the edge of the bed feeling sick to his guts. After a little while, Thierry came back in and put both arms around him, kissing his hair and murmuring quietly to him in French. Ant did not push him away.

CHILLING WITH PHIL – PART 2:

"They're unbelievable," Rayne muttered, pulling angrily on the third roll up he had smoked since arriving at Phil's flat. He had caught the other man just as Phil Honeywell was locking up for the afternoon siesta. In between smokes he had taken a cooling shower with his fellow Englishman and now they were naked together on Phil's bed. The balcony doors were open but it was still sweltering inside, even with the ceiling fan rotating at its highest speed. "They're all the fucking same. They think that just because you've stooped low enough to fuck them you're gonna give them your life and soul."

Phil grinned at him lazily, sprawled on his back on the rumpled red blanket.

"I'd give Paddy McNamara my heart and ar-sehole, no problemo!" he chuckled.

Rayne turned his head, firing a quizzical look at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Sure thing!" Phil enthused. "He's fit as! I've wanked off to his movies more than I can count. I'd give anything to have that big Irish bastard up my arse!"

Rayne took another drag on the roll up and passed it over, shaking his head incredulously.

"They think they fucking own you though! I hate that," he muttered, blowing a twin streamer of smoke through his nostrils.

"I'd not complain. Hell, I'd never have to work... all my bills paid for me... that's my kind of slavery!" Phil sucked on the roach enthusiastically.

"You'd have to work when they were filming. As many men up you as they say you can take! Doing it all day until you're fit to drop then he wants to shag you again in the evening, say..." Rayne could already see from Phil's glazed expression that he was losing the argument. "It's all right for you, you're a fuckin' nympho!"

"I don't get laid so often that I can afford to be blasé about it," Phil corrected him. "Speaking of which... do you fancy a shag or not?"

"It's too hot," Rayne sighed, folding his arms and resting his left cheek on the back of his right hand as he stretched out on his belly on the bed. "I can't even move in this heat. And anyway, I should get back. I'll get grief again for going missing and having them worry all afternoon that I've jumped ship or something."

Phil passed back the dwindling roll up and stroked Rayne's hair as he smoked it. He rubbed his erect cock with the other hand. As the dark haired boy pinched out the last embers of his smoke, Phil murmured; "Suck me off."

"You don't give up do you?" Rayne chuckled, rolling onto his side so that he could stroke Phil's small, chunky cock, running his fingers and thumb rapidly up and down the shaft. Phil sank down onto his back with a sigh of pleasure and Rayne bent over him at once, taking that pink, perky little penis into his mouth. He let his tongue worm slowly up and down over the prominent veins in Phil's short, fat erection. It was small enough to fit comfortably between his jaws but protruded between a pair of lovely firm, shaved balls. Rayne nuzzled them intimately as his tongue lashed the blond's throbbing cock.

"Aaahhhh yeahhhh!" Phil groaned delightedly as he wriggled on the bed, humping his crotch upward into Rayne's face. "Ohhhh... suck me off! Suck my bollocks!"

Rayne's fingers cupped those firm, blue-veined balls and he opened wider, easing Phil's tight, hairless nuts into his mouth as well. His own cock swelled and thickened as he greedily licked and sucked on Phil's throbbing genitals. The blond boy's skin tasted cool and clean in his mouth, garnished with a few drops of salty pre-cum. Now Rayne rubbed his nose against Phil's smooth scrotum and eased his thumb pad back and forth over the other lad's clenching ring. It excited him feeling how Phil bucked and jerked as his anus was teased. Rayne eased his thumb back into the corner of his mouth getting it wet with his saliva then returning to Phil's puckered sphincter and rubbing that wetness over his exposed hole.

"Mmmhhhhhh!" Phil groaned. "Yeah! You're so good to me, Rayne."

Rayne moved one leg over Phil's head and shoulders straddling him, dangling his leaking cock head over the blond's parted lips. He reached down with his free hand and rolled back his foreskin, spanking his long, hard cock on Phil's face the way Armand had done it to him this morning. At once Phil's lips closed around the head of his prick and sucked it greedily. Rayne uttered a muffled, delighted cry and rubbed his own face from side to side in Phil's soft, smooth groin. Phil bucked harder in his mouth, twisting and thrashing underneath him.

"Put it in me! Put your fingers in me!" he groaned around Rayne's cock head.

Rayne pumped his sex slowly deeper into Phil's mouth until the head bumped against the entrance to his lover's throat. He felt Phil's hot hand on his balls, rubbing in steady circles against his scrotum. Firmly he pushed his thumb pad into Phil's arsehole and as the blond arched up off the bed in response to the penetration of his arse his pharynx also opened wide and swallowed Rayne's thrusting cock. Rayne cried out again with his mouth full and Phil bucking into his face. He fucked the other man's mouth harder and pushed two fingers roughly up the blond man's rectum. Phil's breathless panting increased in ferocity as he shot his hot wet load in Rayne's mouth.

Now Rayne lifted his head, cum dripping from his mouth whilst Phil eased the first two fingers of his right hand up his chute. He fucked them in and out steadily and Rayne closed his eyes, rocking back and forth on Phil's hand. The blond carried on caressing his sweet spot until he came like a randy dog, bucking his cock urgently in and out of the blond man's mouth. He collapsed on the bed beside Phil Honeywell with a yelp of satiation.

"Aahhhhh..." Phil sighed. "That was good. So good! I want to get fucked so badly. Come to the dunes with me. We can do it outdoors, it'll be cooler."

"Do guys seriously fuck one another up there?" Rayne asked him with a breathless grin.

"Yeah, all the time. This time of year they're at it like rabbits," Phil panted. "Some guys just like watching and wanking. Some like to join in. Some couples like it when other people join in. There's a few straight couples but a lot of gay guys as well. The far end of the beach is mostly gay. There's cruising going on all the time and lots of fucking. You can probably get laid within about half an hour of putting your towel out if you're not fussy."

"Do you like that?" Rayne asked him, shaking his head.

"I like being watched," Phil said. "It turns me on knowing someone's watching me while I get screwed."

"You really want to show off with me?" He laughed to himself and shook his head at the idea. "Jesus, Phil! You're a sick kid!"

Phil leaned over him and kissed him long and slow on the mouth, his soft lips moving silently in tandem with Rayne's. After a little while of this, Rayne pulled him back down firmly onto the bed and they twined around one another. Where their flesh touched and rubbed they were soon wet with perspiration and pre-cum again. Rayne devoured Phil's soft mouth, loving the way it felt surging against his own. He tried to push away the memory of Aldo's frantic passion this morning. It was making him hard and that was the last thing he needed right now.

"Okay..." he exhaled at last, when Phil let him come up for a breather.

"Okay, what?" Those big blue eyes looked back at him expectantly. Phil was grinning.

"It 'would' be cooler outside, you're right," Rayne said pragmatically.

"You'll do it?" the other boy cackled delightedly. "Oh yeah!"

"I just know I'm gonna regret this," Rayne Wilde exhaled with a little shake of his head.

DOWN IN THE DUNES:

The beach at the Cap d'Agde ran in a straight line for over a mile from the lighthouse on its short mole back down towards the headland at Sete. It was already crowded with reclining sun worshippers as they two boys wandered down to the shoreline and began to walk through the shallow surf together. Rayne took his hi-tops off and tied the laces together, hanging them around his neck but Phil kept his plastic sandals on, naked save for his footwear and the key to his flat on a cord looped around his left wrist. He reached for Rayne's hand as they walked and the other boy looked at him rather oddly but did not pull away.

The ocean was a delicious pale turquoise colour today. Little streamers of foam danced on the waves as they rolled steadily in to the shore and the edge of the water was dotted with countless huge, scalloped shells. Children played in the shallows at the top end of the beach and as he walked he was able to imagine for a moment that this place was no different to anywhere he recalled from his childhood. Somehow the Dymchurch beach he had grown up with seemed a world away from this curious place, belonging to a more open and innocent time, a world before he had been exposed to the mysteries of sex, corruption and lies. He wondered if the children playing here today were as unworldly as he had been at their age. How on earth did their parents explain the delicacies of the innumerable sex clubs and fetish-wear shops sprinkled among the ordinary bakers, groceries and supermarkets in the village? Did they even bat an eye at the sight of some strutting leather queen in a cock strap and nipple rings wandering beneath their balcony in the evening? Or was it true that everyone here was somehow less naïve than he had been as a child?