A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 15

Or even less naïve than he still was today!

He was still irritated that he had let Ant pull that stuff with him back at the boat. In truth he had not been geared up for an argument. It would have been good to just be able to talk to Ant normally. Maybe Ant would have been able to help him get his head straight again after the bizarre events of this morning. He had been prepared to have to soothe the older man's ruffled feathers over the amount of time he spent on Paddy's yacht, but finding Thierry still in his bed had been the last straw. Maybe it was just the kind of thing that went on around here, but if that was so then why the hell was Ant so uptight about him screwing Paddy MacNamara? Instead of sorting things out and calming himself down he was even more confused now.

"Are you okay?" Phil asked as they walked and Rayne looked at him with a little start.

"Uh... yeah, I was just thinking," he murmured, shaking the tumble of wind-blown hair out of his eyes.

"You're pretty quiet today," Phil said, squeezing his hand tighter. "I just wondered if something was wrong. If you don't want to do this, I'll understand."

Rayne managed a smile and shook his head.

"It's nothing. I was just feeling a bit... out of step, I guess."

Phil smiled back at him almost adoringly.

"You grew up near the sea, didn't you?" he said, demonstrating that he paid perfect attention to just about everything Rayne told him. That in itself was a disquieting thought.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, glancing away again, watching the shimmer of the sunlight on the Mediterranean. "It wasn't much like this though."

"What 'are' you thinking about?" Phil wanted to know.

Rayne was currently thinking that he did not want Phil to be inside his head to the degree that Phil plainly needed to be right now. That was just another level of confusion. He liked Phil well enough and the blond lad was a good, uncomplicated fuck but Rayne now worried that maybe Phil was mentally taking things forward a bit too fast. He bit his tongue and shook his head.

"Nothing much."

"You can talk to me," Phil coaxed. "I'm not gonna go telling tales, am I?"

"There's nothing to say," Rayne answered, taking a long breath and shaking his head again. "I'm just mulling stuff over, Phil. Can't I be quiet without there being a problem? Jesus!"

They were further along the beach by now and the happy families had given way to smaller groups, couples and singles, mostly adult. These were serious sun-worshippers, dedicated to the development of their tans, often to the extent that they worked in teams to oil one another up and compare skin tones. The bias was definitely straight and Rayne detached his hand from Phil's without another word, although he kept pace with the blond boy.

"Are you ashamed of me?" his companion asked at once. "'They' don't care, you know!"

"I do," Rayne said, then wished he had kept his mouth shut.

"So I'm okay for you to bone in private but you're not up for being seen in public with me?" Phil hissed back at him instantly. "Cheers Rayne!"

"Christ almighty! Will you let this go?" Rayne snapped at him, stopping in his tracks. "I'm fucking 'here'! I'm playing your bloody game, so stop giving me shit about it, will you? You're as bad as the rest of them!"

To his dismay, Phil's eyes teared up like a child's and he turned away at once, without a word. Rayne shook his head as the young man marched away from him, storming grimly down the shoreline with his hands clenched into small, furious fists. He swore softly under his breath and set off after Phil at once. In this sort of mood, if he was still going where Rayne thought he was headed, he could get himself into any sort of trouble.

The further along the beach they walked the more the demographic altered from the straight male/female mix. Gradually Rayne became conscious that there were far more men than women down at this distant end of the strand. The apartment blocks and bars beyond the beach gave way to low rolling sand dunes and short, scrubby trees and bushes. Phil was still walking just ahead of him. Rayne was determined not to run after the other man but Phil was a little taller and had a slightly longer stride. He was deliberately making it harder for Rayne to casually draw level and prevent him making a complete fool of himself.

Not only were there more men down here but Rayne was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was getting checked out as he marched down the shoreline. He was trying not to break into a trot but painfully attuned to the fact that he was not gaining on Phil by so much as a yard. He was ready to curse the young man to a fiery end by now. For the last few days he had spent his time as the sexual focus of other men's attention but that had been in front of the cameras and this was something else entirely. Now Rayne slowed his stride as he realised that more than one pair of eyes was tracking his anxious progress down the beach.

"Shit!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Up ahead, Phil swung to his left and began to march determinedly up the beach, moving away from the sea. Rayne let his pace slow and gradually came to a halt, reluctant to follow him. He had already seen how the eyes of certain beach loungers followed the slender blond's progress across the sands. More than one guy moved casually to his feet and began to follow him slowly.

"Oh Jesus F Christ!" Rayne exhaled, shaking his head. "Philip... don't do this to me!"

Not every pair of eyes followed Phil however. Rayne took several steps back into the water as he realised that quite a few of the basking sharks were still observing him with proprietary interest. He retreated into the water, shuddering at the lick of the cool, green waves around his hips and thighs as he planned the best course of assault. Not everyone was watching him but he was aware already of more than three or four predators, mostly on the sands but one in the water checking him out with a rakish smile.

Clenching his teeth, he moved deeper for the time being, hoping to distract the paddling pest by pretending absolute disinterest. The seabed helped and hindered him in this endeavour as it rose and fell without warning and he suddenly found himself on a sandbank, separated from the beach by a narrow channel of water but only submerged as far as his knees. Phil had vanished by this time and Rayne was drawn to his friend's vulnerability when he noted that a number of the beach sharks had shifted away from the sea towards the dunes like a swarm of ants.

"God help me!" he muttered to himself as he pushed back towards the shoreline, ignoring the suggestive glances of the men around him. It felt as though the water was trying to pull him back in but he fought free and stumbled back onto the hot, shifting sands like a new life-form discovering land for the first time.

By the time he reached the highest lip of the sand dunes there was a large crowd of men assembled at the ridge already and he felt sick to his stomach. Phil's words from earlier in the day were ringing in his ears and he felt people move aside as he scrambled up to join them. Rayne did not have to look at his fellow voyeurs to know that he was the object of a good deal of attention. The musky smell told him that plenty of them were already masturbating. He knew the scent of fresh cum well enough. Now when he looked sidelong the glances that met his were furtive and wary. Rayne understood what they were thinking without having to ask or look too closely. There was no sign of Phil.

Rayne pushed through the throng and ignored the comments in an array of tongues. He did not understand the words but he had a good enough idea of what they were saying. As he moved to the front of the huddle, he found himself on the edge of a hollow in the sand dunes. Beneath him in the dip two naked men were roughly entwined in a bucking, thrusting mesh of limbs. Neither man was Phil, to his relief. He pulled away from the scene, suddenly scanning the faces of his fellow observers. Maybe Phil had lost his nerve on reaching this bristling wall of masculine urgency. Maybe he was also still hovering somewhere, waiting for the chance to withdraw.

Someone touched the back of his neck and Rayne jerked away from him violently, radiating hostility. He lost his footing and went down in the shifting sand, tumbling head over heels into a deep defile in the sand. As he wrestled his way to his feet he found the object of his search. Phil was on his hands and knees at the bottom of the dip, a tall, hirsute blond man crouched behind him gripping his lean hips tightly in both hands, bucking hard against him as he pushed himself deeper.

"Awww Christ!" Rayne exhaled tumbling backwards and shaking sand out of his hair. "Phil... No! Don't do this!"

As he sprawled in the heat and dust he saw Phil's blue eyes open and meet his own, very wide and knowing. Phil lifted a hand and beckoned him closer, wordlessly. Rayne obeyed without even understanding what drew him. There was something in that look that transcended sanity but he came to Phil all the same. When Phil's hand reached for his cock and stroked and pulled on it until it was close enough to put in his mouth, Rayne closed his eyes and ran his own hands down through the spill of his friend's soft blond curls. He clung to that silken contact as Phil sucked and licked on him greedily, feeling his balls tighten and the heat of the sun beating down on his head.

Distantly he was conscious of the throng that hung around them, watching them get it on, but at the same time he was able to shrug them off. The eager murmur of voices faded in his ears as he pushed himself deeper into Phil's mouth, for the second time that day. He could hear the blond lad grunting with pleasure as he was taken in both ends but he could not open his eyes and watch. If he looked the reality would spill in and destroy the moment of pure pleasure. Like this he could shut out the crowd that had gathered around their natural amphitheatre, once he opened his eyes the reality would be inescapable. It was like being a Christian thrown to the lions. He could almost taste the eagerness of the watchers; their desire to see something taboo; to watch another living creature submit to their own furtive desires.

The hairy guy began to grunt like a pig as he neared his orgasm and Phil made a little moaning noise as his thrusts quickened. Rayne's fingers tightened in his hair, as if by holding him fast he could somehow prevent anyone else from joining in with his friend's humiliation. He kept his eyes closed and rocked his smooth, sun-tanned abdomen and groin slowly against Phil's face, concentrating on the feel of the young man's hot mouth, sucking greedily on his cock. Phil's soft lips were warm and wet around his shaft and whenever he groaned the sound sent little vibrations of pleasure up into Rayne's crotch. Gently, Rayne caressed the back of his neck where his short blond hair was sweat damp and plastered to his skin. He sighed reverently as his partner's skilful tongue worked the underside of his long shaft, flickering back and forth from his balls to his crown. Then Phil engulfed him and nodded down greedily on his erection once more.

Rayne Wilde rocked against him with a more urgent groan, throwing his head back so that the sunlight kissed his face. He kept his eyes closed tightly, seeing golden sunbursts through the delicate skin of the lids as his fingers tightened in the blond's curls. Phil's ass-fuck buddy made a strangling noise and muttered something that might have been approval, though Rayne was not sure. Phil began to make muffled yelping sounds that quivered into his groin. Eagerly, Rayne bucked harder, relishing the tight heat of his lover's throat around his cock head. Much more of this and he was going to shoot without even getting up Phil's arse.

When he lowered his head and his eyes opened he realised why Phil was yelping. A thickset, bald guy with a grey-furred torso and belly had replaced the blond behind him. He had one of the broadest cocks Rayne had ever seen outside a porn movie set and he was currently forcing said rubber-clad member into Phil's arsehole. The crowd around their hollow made low, encouraging noises like a playground rabble exhorting two combatants to fight, but anxious that they might be overheard and have their fun cut short by the arrival of the headmaster.

"Are you okay?" he asked his friend quietly.

Phil looked up at him with wide eyes but he nodded eagerly.

"Big!" he said with his mouth full, rather unnecessarily.

"Uh-huh," Rayne confirmed, still stroking his hair and trying not to pulse too rapidly. He was worried about what would happen to Phil once he came. Already more than a couple of guys had edged closer and he could see they were wondering if they would get a turn.

"I don't like this," he said neutrally. "It feels dangerous and it's not doing it for me, Phil. I mean... you are, obviously, but..." Rayne shrugged, unable to articulate his anxiety adequately enough.

The blond knelt up so that he could stroke Rayne's cock with his tongue and hands. His new friend shuffled closer on his knees and bucked harder against Phil's sun-bronzed arse as he huffed; "I didn't think there would be so many of them. It's got busier since I last came down here."

"Will they let us go when we want to, d'you reckon?" Rayne asked him in a low voice, glancing around nervously at the watchers.

"Dunno. Probably." Phil sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. He reached down, pulling on his cock one-handed as his new mate fucked him vigorously and came with a grunt of satisfaction.

When the thickset man pulled slowly out of him, Rayne also took a step back and drew Phil to his feet, towing him closer. Two more men moved towards them at once but Rayne shook his head seriously.

"Enough!" he said in a sharp, slightly nervous voice. "No more!"

"You only just begin?" the bald man who had just fucked Phil told him, shaking his head. "You take it in the ass also?"

"No." Rayne held his stare defiantly.

"You suck, then?" That was a tall fellow with a long, rust coloured beard and braids in his nipple-length hair. He was stroking a long, crooked looking cock in one hand and watching them speculatively from the edge of the hollow.

"No," Rayne said again. He pointed at Phil. "I'll suck and fuck him, but no one else."

Phil put both arms around his neck and nuzzled him hungrily.

"Yeah!" he growled like a baby tiger. "Fuck me, Rayne! Fuck me hard and make them watch."

"Headcase!" Rayne murmured to him, a small, uneasy smile pulling at his lips all the same. "Don't get down, I think we might have to run for it."

Phil moved towards the edge of the hollow and leaned against the steep sandbank, offering his pert arse with a little grin. His nose and bum cheeks glittered with sweat and Rayne followed at once, stroking a warm hand over his backside and down one slim, golden thigh.

"Give it to me!" Phil teased, wriggling his buttocks seductively from side to side.

"I've no rubbers," Rayne warned him.

"I don't care. You've had an AIDS test haven't you?" Phil blew him a kiss. "Just screw me, Rayne, the natives are getting restless!"

Rayne needed no greater incentive. He could still feel the heat of so many watching eyes on the back of his neck, or more likely on his arse and Phil's. Taking a quick breath, he rubbed his cock and guided it between the slender blond's parted cheeks. Phil's arsehole was already gaping from the bald guy's big dick and he slipped it in easily, letting out a shuddering gasp of pleasure as he felt the close, moist heat of his friend's anus clench rapidly around his sex. Rayne gripped Phil's lean hips and he began to ease himself deeper, pulsing in and out carefully until his nice long bone was immersed in Phil's tempting hole. The murmuring of the eager observers around the edge of their dell intensified as they watched the two slim, sexy English boys begin fucking one another down below.

Rayne growled softly through clenched teeth, rocking his hips against Phil's smooth, firm arse, pumping himself in and out more urgently. The blond looked back at him over his right shoulder. He was leaning one handed against the bank now, pumping his small, hard dick with the right hand. The look on his face was one of sheer ecstasy.

"Rrrrrrrggghhhh!" he exclaimed encouragingly. "Yeah! Harder! That feels good, Rayne!"

Closing his eyes, Rayne Wilde began to thrust more deliberately, sinking his cock into the other man as if he was drilling for gold in that firm cleft. Their audience was mostly quiet now, although he could hear panting and the wet, slippery sound of pumping hands on hard cocks. Occasionally one of them would utter a little grunt of release then slink shamefully away and the crowd rustled like reeds in a restless breeze as they regrouped around the hollow. When Rayne opened his eyes again the bald guy and about three other men were still standing closer, down in the bottom of the dip, watching and wanking eagerly as he tooled Phil Honeywell right in front of them. He avoided their eyes, afraid that he would lose his erection if he had to look at the furtive faces of the excited masturbators. Tilting his head back he stared up instead into the clear, cerulean sky, lips parted, gasping more brokenly as he clutched Phil to him, humping the blond for all he was worth. When he lowered his gaze just a little there were at least ten men at the top of the steep rise right in front of them, some stroking casually, others going hell for leather with both hands on their balls and leaking cocks.

He looked down again, feeling both sets of cheeks get hotter as he moved his feet further apart and adjusted his stroke. Now he was using a longer, slower thrust, moving his throbbing cock almost three quarters of its length in and out of Phil. The fleshy resistance of his lover's tight chute was getting him deliciously close. One of the voyeurs was so near to them now that he could feel the guy's hot breath on his shoulder and arm. He thought it was the man with the long, rust-coloured hair but refused to look up at him. He could see the guy's hand working up and down the length of his crooked erection though, milking the head, holding it over Phil's buttocks as it began to spit frothy cum. Rayne gritted his teeth and ignored the intrusion determinedly. Phil seemed past caring, he was keening with delight and bucking his hips back to meet the thrust of his lover's prick. When the other man spurted over him with a long groan of satisfaction, the blond reached back and squeezed his balls in silent camaraderie.

'Don't encourage the cunt!' Rayne thought impatiently, although he kept his teeth clenched and said nothing. Or at least, he said nothing until he felt someone try to rub a hot, sticky penis up and down his own cleft.

Rayne was incandescent with rage and humiliation. Throwing up both hands he almost pulled right out of Phil as he half turned to find the interloper.

"Touch me again and this stops right now!" he warned in a voice that trembled with passion and exertion.

"Who is going to stop me, Rayne Wilde?" asked a dry, familiar, heavily-accented voice, very close to his ear. Strong hands gripped his hips and he was probed again, more roughly. "Are 'you'?" Christophe asked him sardonically. "I don't think so, somehow."