Fetish Galore

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cameron. The resort is closed. Renovations."

"Closed," I asked, in surprise. "But the concierge at the El San Juan Hotel down in the capital made reservations for me."

"Nevertheless we are closed. But this is Puerto Rico. We are laid back here. If you don't mind being the only guest and are satisfied with the bare minimum of services—"

"No, that would be fine. I was looking to be a recluse for a week."

"There are only the two of us here now—just Rollo and me. The workmen won't show up again for more than a week. They should be here now, but I was informed they would not be coming today or tomorrow or the next day—but would do so in a week's time. That is the way it is here in Puerto Rico. But we will be all right. Some of the rooms are finished with their refurbishing, and Rollo can do anything. Anything, really," he said, and the look he gave me seemed provocative for some reason. "And he's a great cook. Alas, I am only the lazy, worthless owner."

"No that's fine. It should be quite restful."

"In that case, if you will register, please, and hand over your passport—sorry we have to hold it for our guests. It's the law here—I will go find Rollo and he will show you to your room."

When I had finished signing my name, I turned, and standing there was a mountain of a many from the Caribbean islands. Coffee colored, smooth-skinned, dreadlocks, built like a champion body builder, and with a white-teethed smile that reviled the one the resort owner had flashed me. Like the other man, he was only wearing shorts—and flip flops. My guess was that he was a good ten years older than I was too. But he was a beautiful specimen of a man.

"I am Rollo. If you are ready, I will take you to your room now."

My internal response was that Rollo could take me anywhere, any way he wanted me. But then that resolve of mine to stay true to April entered my mind again, and I mentally said "down boy" to my hardening cock.

"And I am Paul. I named the resort after myself because I'm such a saint," the resort owner said—and he said it with a silly little grin on his face. "With only the three of us here, there is no reason not to be on intimate relations."

I supposed he didn't mean for that to sound as it did, but it gave me a lurch of arousal anyway.

As I followed Rollo up the stairs to the balcony, I watched his two bulbous butt cheeks roll and bounce against each other, and I was sure he wasn't wearing any briefs.

He took me to a fine room overlooking the pool and San Juan below, with a four-poster bed and all done in white muslin. The bathroom was marble and the tub had room for all three of us—or at least that was my first thought. I'd had no intention of going into heat like this, but my best of intentions had always been a bit fleeting.

When he had set my bags down, handling them effortlessly like they were feather pillows, and had done the usual bell hop's circumnavigation of the room opening curtains and showing me what worked what, he turned and smiled. "Is there anything else I can do for you . . . Ty . . . anything else at all?"

"No not now, thanks," I said—even though it wasn't what I wanted to say at all. I had noticed before that he was studded. He had a stud in his tongue I'd never seen before and I had no idea how he managed to eat with it. It was a small ball, but it was on a stem protruding from the center of his tongue—sticking out a half inch or more. And he had rings pierced at both of the nipples on his heavily muscled chest. I immediately found myself wondering if he had a cock stud or ring too—and, if so, how big—how well I could feel it if he fucked me.

I came back from the reverie in embarrassment and found that he was still standing there, expectant and smiling.

"Oh, sorry," I said, and I started rummaging around in the pocket of my trousers for a tip.

"No need for that, mon, thanks. We are on first-name basis here and the resort isn't open. You may find another way to show any appreciation you have for me, assuming you still want to after you've tasted my cooking."

Then he laughed and was gone.

It had been a long, dusty ride up the hill, so I immediately stripped and showered and then dried off with a giant-sized Egyptian-cotton towel and padded out to the king-sized four-poster bed and laid down. I went to sleep almost immediately. When I awoke, I was surprised to find I had been so tired I'd just laid down on the bed in the nude.

Then I realized that what had awakened me was the sound of sex. I rose from the bed and padded over to a set of the full-length French doors that served as the room's windows and looked down into the pool area.

Rollo was on his back on the diving board and Paul was straddling the board with his legs and fucking Rollo in long strokes with a cock that dug forever. Rollo was in full arousal too, and his cock rivaled Paul's. However, it was special, in that, in contrast to the milk chocolate of his body, his cock and balls were jet black. And, sure enough, there was an extra thick Prince Albert ring piercing the cock head.

I don't know how long Paul had been fucking Rollo, but it went on for an impressively long time even after I started watching. I found I couldn't pull my attention away from what was happening below my window, and it was only when Rollo looked up and surely smiled that I realized that I was in full view and was stroking myself. I withdrew in embarrassment of having been found playing the voyeur.

I remained in my room for the rest of the day—taking another nap after I had masturbated to the image of Paul fucking Rollo. Dinner was delicious that night. We ate by candlelight beside the pool, with Rollo joining Paul and me after he had cooked the meal. Both men were fully dressed now, but in light cotton that enhanced the sexiness of their bodies.

The conversation was pleasant, but neither alluded to what they had done that afternoon or what I had seen. Neither did either make any provocative moves toward me, which I found both disconcerting and arousing in itself. When I went back to my room that night, I stripped and, after my shower, laid on the bed. I assumed that either Paul or Rollo would visit me, and any resolve I might have had not to entertain either of them—or more provocatively—both at once, which was a fetish I myself enjoyed, was gone. And not just a threesome, but two cocks inside me at once, the three of us working as one for a shared orgasm. I didn't know that I could recall taking two huge cocks like these men had at once, but, despite all the planning I had done on learning from my mistakes in New York, I ached for a trial of it with these two men.

But no one came that night.

By the morning, I was ripe for the taking—to the eventual enhanced arousal of all.

I woke with a rap on the door—alone in my bed—and found a breakfast tray waiting for me just outside the door. There was a card on the tray which said, "It's a fine day; a great day for a visit to the pool." I had found a couple of fluffy pool towels under the breakfast tray.

After I'd eaten and showered and shaved, I rummaged around in my luggage for my Speedo and the novel I was reading, grabbed my sunglasses, slipped on the bathing suit, and descended the stairs into the empty lobby and walked out to the pool. Only one lounger was now beside the pool, up close to the diving board, so I opened one of the towels out on that and laid down.

Within minutes I saw Paul moving through the lobby and toward the pool. He was naked and he was magnificent. He came out onto the deck and climbed agilely onto the diving board, strode rapidly down the length of the board, and performed a perfect dive into the pool. He then proceeded to do laps at a fast pace.

I was watching him so closely that I barely noticed Rollo coming out to the pool as well. He too was naked, his ringed cock swaying rhythmically against his thighs as he strutted. He was holding a tray with a drink on it, which he set down on the small table beside my lounger. Then he stood over me, his cock swinging freely above my head.

"I saw you yesterday. In the window," he said matter-of-factly. "You fuck men, no?"

"Usually they fuck me," I answered.

"I may make love to you, yes?"

"Yes."

"I try to be careful," he assured me. "You're so small and I am so big. I'll try not to crush you and if you cannot take me when we get to that point, tell me. I do not want to split you."

"You'll be surprised," I answered. "I can take you and Paul both—at once."

His eyes lit up in arousal at that, and he licked his lips. And I could see his cock swelling even further too.

"Ah, you are like a boy. So small and delicate—but perfect just perfect," he murmured. "Are you sure—"

"Yes, I'm sure," I declared. And I could see him trembling with arousal and anticipation.

He moved to the bottom of the lounger and gently took my thighs in his beefy hands and pulled me down to where my butt was nearly even with the bottom ridge. Then he took the second towel I'd brought out, folded it to make it into a cushion, and laid it on the patio tiles at the base of the lounger and knelt on it. He reached up and pulled my Speedo down and off my legs with both hands. He cupped my buttocks and brought my hole to his mouth and started a long session of rimming my hole that not only opened me up nicely but had me moaning and begging for him.

"You are so nice," he whispered. "Your body, it is small. But your cock. Such a nice size, and so long. Nice balls." He drew the latter into his mouth and started to hum and the resonation was driving me silly wild. He pulled away from them and his tongue went back to my rim.

"Please, please fuck me," I moaned. But he ignored me as if I hadn't asked for it.

"Ah, yes, I see, it blossoms like a cavern. Rose Cavern," he muttered. And then he laughed, a deep, hoarse laugh. I raised my pelvis and put it into a slow rolling motion as he inserted first one, and then two, and then three fingers. We both sucked in our breath and moaned as I felt the knuckles of his hands at my rim on all sides, and I relaxed my channel, preparing for feeling his wrist there and the spreading of my channel deeper inside by the rest of his hand. But his hand wasn't sufficiently greased and he was impatient for other pleasures, so he stopped with a grunt of "Later. Save for later."

He withdrew his hand and his lips and tongue went back to rimming me. He sighed as I opened even more.

I hadn't noticed when I'd laid down on the lounger, but now I saw, as he finished rimming me and looked up over my heaving belly with a smile that there were restraints at the four corners of the lounger.

Rollo pulled one of these up and showed it to me and said simply, "May I?"

"Whatever you want. As long as you fuck me," I said in a hoarse whisper. "I want to feel that thick cock ring of yours inside me."

"Oh, I will. In more than one way. You like this toy of mine?"

I sighed a yes, and he rubbed his cock tantalizing along my inner thighs, running the warm metal along tender skin. I moaned and reached for him, wanting to draw him inside me there and then. But he laughed and pushed my hands away and took my wrists in a firm grip and started guiding them above my head. He did, however, move his cock head into position at my hole and give me the feel of the ring rubbing in circles around my entrance.

"For now the restraints will be good," he said while I was hyperventilating at the feel of his cock at my entrance, wanting it to plunge inside me. "What I do now, it will be dangerous for you to move too wildly. And I think it will make you wild, yes."

I didn't know then what he meant. But I was melting at the prospect of whatever it was—and I soon found out.

He pulled my arms over my head until my wrists could be secured to the top corners of the lounger. And then he secured my ankles to the bottom corners.

I thought he would thrust that huge, ringed cock in my widened and pulsing hole then, but he didn't. I saw his smile come up between my legs and his hands to my cock. His mouth opened, and I once again saw that gold ball thrusting out of his tongue on its stem. And then, as he closed his lips over my cock head, I found out what the tongue piercing was for.

The small ball searched out my piss slit, and then it was entering me there, the stem allowing it to bury itself nearly an inch inside my urethra. And then he was fucking my cock with his tongue stud. Pushing it in and pulling it out of my piss slit and pushing it in and pulling it out. And I was crying out and writhing and straining at my bounds, all the while trying to keep my pelvis steady for him. And coming again and again and again, as he let me briefly rest but then piss slit fucked me again. Until I had no more cum to give.

While this was going on, I looked over at the diving board and Paul was sitting there, watching us and stroking his own cock.

Only after I was exhausted and whimpering did Rollo stand and laugh and then enter me with his fat cock and punish my walls delightfully with that thick cock ring. Sliding in and out, giving me waves and waves of pleasure of thick metal rubbing across channel walls. He muttered in surprise when he entered me and felt my channel taking him tight, which was yet another secret I had learned in my business. He took me bareback, and when he came, he gushed deep inside me. I enjoyed Rollo immensely—and in the main because of the dance of fucking he did between my legs complete with the view of the undulation of his beefy muscles and the rhythmic swaying and tinkling music produced by his beaded dreadlocks.

He left me and exchanged places with Paul. Paul released the bounds on my wrists and ankles—but only long enough to turn me over on my belly. I was too weak and satiated to even think of putting up a struggle. He bound me again and Rollo handed him a rolled up, thick towel to wedge under my belly. And then he straddled my thighs with his and thrust inside me, bareback, as Rollo had done, and fucked me. At first he kneaded the muscles of my back and arms and his cock took on the rhythm of the soft, rolling gait of the massage, but as his own heat deepened, he stopped massaging me and went to fucking me hard like a dog.

He moved a hand around my thigh and milked my cock until I was almost ready to come again, and then I felt his hands at my throat and his fingers digging into my flesh, seeking out my windpipe. He brought me to the edge of his ejaculation and my unconsciousness three times before he released his load deep inside me, while I simultaneously experienced that fullest release of my own that morning . . . and . . . blacked out.

* * * *

When I came back into consciousness, I was on my back again, free of bounds, but Paul was sitting on the lounger beside me and I became conscious of my own moans and that I felt incredibly stuffed. My pelvis was elevated again, and one of my legs was spread and lay across his lap. I could feel the pulsing hardness of his erection on my thigh. He was worrying my nipples with one hand and looking down at me with an expression that approached awe. I looked down the line of my body and saw that his hand was inside me up to his wrist. It was slowly rolling back and forth and my pelvis was rolling with its rhythm. Rollo knelt beside my hips. He brought a cloth to my nose that smelled sweet and immediately started to make me feel groggy. I watched then as he lowered his lips over my cock and the stemmed stud in his tongue found my piss slit once again. And then I just went with the flow again until I drifted off into blackness.

I woke up in my bed, bathed and powdered and feeling a little groggy. It was dark in the room, but when I struggled up and went and pulled away the drapes on the French windows, I saw that it was only late afternoon.

Paul and Rollo were sitting, clothed in formal wear, on cushioned seats next to a table covered with a white cloth and set for three. Lit candles were placed here and there around the pool area. The two men were drinking from martini glasses. A third, unoccupied chair was positioned between them. I found my tuxedo in the closet and dressed and went down to them.

There was no mention of the debauchery at the pool in the morning. If I hadn't been sore, I would have wondered if I had dreamed it all. The discussion was light—sports and action and adventure movies and a bit on current events and the business market in Puerto Rico. Rollo seemed quite able to keep up his end of the conversation. They also discussed the peculiar behavior of the workmen who had been working on the resort and just walked off the job—with the promise that they would be back. Paul said they almost were apologetic about it—and looked embarrassed when he pressed them for a reason. But they had avoided giving him one other than "national holiday." Paul had lived in Puerto Rico long enough to know that they could find a national holiday excuse for any day they didn't want to work.

"What's a little surprising in their nonappearance is that they clocked in well before this. And they were good workers—well most of them. And good for other purposes as well," Paul said. "You would like them, I think, Ty."

That's as close as he came to mentioning what had gone on between us earlier in the day until much later, after the sun had gone down, and we'd plowed through three courses of food, including broiled lobster with shrimp and scallop chasers, had had our coffee, and were finishing off with snifters of brandy, sitting three abreast on the lounger next to the underlit pool, me sandwiched between the other two and them working my body through openings in the tuxedo with their hands.

After each of us had said, as all of us are want to do, that we needed to leave for our separate demands of the evening but didn't actually budge from the comfort and ambiance of the moment—Rollo cleaning up, Paul updating the resort's books, and me continuing my review of what I was supposed to be doing for Vado Pharmaceuticals in Puerto Rico—I did approach the subject again.

"I never asked you what the fees are for room and board here," I said. "Not that I care what you charge, but my company is picking up the tab, and I should know what to tell them if and when they ask."

"As long as you continue pleasing me, there will be no bill," Paul said with a hoarse whisper. His hand was squeezing my cock rhythmically at that moment, so I had to assume I was pleasing him. But I asked anyway.

"And do I please you?" I asked.

"Very much so—and Rollo too," Paul answered in even a deeper and more hoarse voice.

"I am quite pleased with the accommodations," I answered. "And Rollo too," I added.

"You are so accommodating yourself," Paul said. "I don't want to go beyond bounds. Is there anything not—?"

"No," I interjected. "I'm sure that anything you enjoy I will find equally enjoyable. Both of you—together—even. I'm sure I could—"

"After this afternoon, I'm sure you could too," Paul said with a laugh. "You needn't bother to lock your door here at night," he then said as he rose. "We both have keys to all of the doors."

"I feel safe enough, I answered," as Rollo also rose to leave.

In the middle of the night, under a full moon that I let stream through the undraped French doors as I lay naked in the four-poster bed in my room, both Paul and Rollo quietly entered. They both were naked. They moved to either side of the bed and reached up into the corner of the canopies of the bed and brought down restraints on leather leads.

"Is it OK to—?" Paul whispered.

"Yes, yes, of course, if that's what you wish," I whispered back. Rollo stretched my right arm and left leg up and out, as Paul did the same with the left. Then, as Rollo wedged pillows under the small of my back, Paul knelt at the foot of the bed between my legs and docked our cocks—pressing one cock head against the other and stretching his uncut foreskin over the tip of my cock. He closed a fist over the docked cocks and stroked them to hard. Rollo kissed me on the lips and then pulled up a club chair close to the side of the bed and watched as Paul and I moaned and sighed in unison.