Devil's Deals Pt. 02

An hour later, Rich did go to his room in the attic of the house to shower and rest. He took a peek in Hunter's room on the second floor to find Julio on top of Hunter and Hunter stretched out on his back on the bed, his legs bent, feet flat on the mattress, and his head lolled over to the side, facing the door, his eyes reflecting ultimate satisfaction, his disposition now satisfied that Julio was paying attention to him, as the athletic Julio did pushups on his trembling body.

Rich hadn't seen anyone else on his climb up to the third floor. When he reached his room, had taken his shower, and collapsed on his bed to rest, he knew part of why that was. The walls weren't as thick on this level as they were downstairs. Eva, the housekeeper's, room was next to his. It was quite obvious that the master of the house, Howard, was fucking the housekeeper in her room, and, from Eva's groans and little cries and the sounds of little slaps, it was clear that Howard was being rough about it. Most of Eva's utterings were in the affirmative, though, so Rich decided she wasn't in any trouble that she didn't want to be in. The sounds of the stings of the slaps aroused Rich, though, which somewhat disturbed him.

Chapter Three: Night Games

Happy hour was all surface chattiness with no reference to the house so recently having been a sex den of free-flowing cum. Alma hadn't appeared, but Susan was back from shopping and was bubbly and full of chatter. She sat near Rich, but she wasn't all over him like she had been before lunch. Julio and Hunter were all touchy feely, and as before, Howard was sitting in his wicker arm chair, his elbows on the chair arms and his hands folded in front of his face, his index fingers pressing to his lips. He was watching the others with a little smile on his face, taking in all of the atmospherics, both surface and below the surface. A lit cigar in an ashtray and a glass of beer rested on the side table at his right side. When he and Rich connected with their eyes, Howard paid particular attention to making love to his cigar with his mouth. The inference was hardly lost on Rich.

Diego played bartender and snacks provider. Eva was in the kitchen working on dinner. When dinner was served, quite formally in the candle-lit dining room, with the light reflecting off china and crystal and silver serving dishes, Alma attended, regally dressed, fully made up, smiling a Mona Lisa smile, and being the perfect, if a bit taciturn and slow to move, hostess. Rich's impression was that she might had taken nerve-suppression drugs or had been having her own happy hour in her room while everyone else had gathered on the porch to have theirs. She didn't make eye contact with him, which was quite all right with Rich. He had already decided that she wasn't the key to the Butlers--that Howard was. That didn't mean he wouldn't lay her again if she insisted, if nothing else to make sure there weren't any family fireworks.

After dinner, they all moved to the lounge for after-dinner drinks and for a bit of entertainment. Rich and Susan shared an interest in and talent for music and, after they met, some of their time had been spent in Rich accompanying her singing on the piano. By request, that's what they did in the evening, with Rich at the piano and Susan standing beside it and singing her little heart out on popular standards. At the second break, Howard stood and said, "I've had some news. Could you join me in the library for a bit, Sugar?" He was looking at Susan, not Alma, and the two of them left. Hunter picked that moment to declare that he needed a refill from a bottle not on the beverage cart. He left and Julio moved over to beside Alma on a sofa. Alma's eyes moved from Rich to Julio, and they shared, in Rich's determination, an intent.

Rich turned to playing popular classical tunes on the piano. When he'd finished playing Debussy's "Clare de Lune," he looked up to discover that he was all alone. He played Mozart's "Piano Concerto 21 in C," popularly known as "Elvira Madigan's Theme"--just for himself, to calm the feeling of arousal that had swept over him all day, and that already had been satisfied in various ways.

He closed the top on the piano keyboard, stood, and lowered the lid on the grand piano. The light was still showing under the library door when he moved to the stairs. He slowly ascended the stairs and went to the door to Alma's bedroom, which was slightly open. He stopped there, though, because, through the crack in the door, he could see that Julio was fucking Alma, both of them naked, Julio on his knees, his torso vertical, and holding Alma, facing away from him, in front of him. His arms were wrapped around her, one hand cupping one of her pert, sculpted breasts and the other with fingers working her clit, while she arched her back, wrapping her arms around his neck, her hips rocking back and forward to coordinate with the rhythm of his thrusts up inside her. Rich turned, went to the staircase to the third floor, and slowly ascended them.

He couldn't say he hadn't had enough today to satiate himself. Still, he went to bed in the nude, stretched out on his back, and masturbated himself to sleep.

Rich woke in the pitch dark, other than the moon sending a thin beam of light through the window overlooking the outer harbor. He had been awakened by the sound of his bedroom door opening and a very brief reflection off the wall he was turned to of the corridor light for the moment the door was open. He turned in the bed.

"Hunter? Julio?" he murmured. He had time for it to register in his brain that he hadn't thought to voice the name "Susan" when it also registered that the form moving toward him was bulkier than any of those. A sweet-smelling cloth was held to his mouth and nose, though, and, although he struggled briefly with a heavy weight on top of him, he quickly lost the battle and blacked out.

When he came to, he was on his back on the bed, spread-eagled, with his arms spread over his head, his wrists restrained to the headboard, and his legs spread below, his ankles restrained to the footboard. Howard Butler, naked, was straddling his chest and feeding the thickest cock Rich had ever had, a beer can dick, into his mouth. Rich gagged on the cock but serviced it as he writhed under the heavy man and after he realized that it was Howard Butler. Then Butler was sliding down his body, positioning himself, and Rich was grunting and groaning and arching his back and widening his stance as much as he could, to take the older man's cock inside him. Butler leaned over Rich, staring down into the younger man's face, enough light in the room for them to make and maintain eye contact.

"You don't have to do this. I'm happy to take you," Rich managed to croak.

"Yes, I know you can be had, but I like it this way," Howard growled.

As Butler's buried cock started to move inside Rich, to slow pump him, his eyes opened wide when Rich responded by rocking his hips with the fuck and murmuring, "Yes, yes. Fuck me. Take me hard. Fuck, you're thick! Fuck me, Mr. Butler! Split me!"

They fucked in high heat, both panting and rocking hard against each other, restrained only by Rich being bound, spread-eagled, on the bed. But Rich's pleasure was being hampered by two aspects. The man was too heavy for him; his massive belly was pressing on Rich's, taking the breath out of him. And the man's cock was almost impossibly thick--not long, but thick as the proverbial beer can. Something could be done about the first, Rich thought. He didn't want to change the second; he wanted to take the cock in all of its thickness. He thanked his lucky stars that Julio had been in there earlier in the day. To that point Rich had only rarely let a man fuck him; it helped that he'd let Julio stretch him.

"You're too heavy for me," Rich said with a groan. "Unbind me. I won't fight you, but you're crushing me."

"You'll ride me? You're willing to cowboy?"

"Yes, certainly, I'm happy to take your cock if you're not killing me in the process. You're a stud. I want it. Shit you have a thick cock. I want to take it. Untie me. Let me ride you," Rich murmured, and the older man, in surprise and awe, did so, allowing Rich to roll him onto his back after the young man was unbound, to straddle him, to position himself and descend on the thick cock, Rich was facing Howard's head. He was leaning back, with his hands pressed to the man's knees--slowly opening to the cock completely, taking it all in, panting and groaning, rocking on the buried shaft, and riding and riding and riding, Butler's hands grasping the young man's slim waist. Rich was aware that he was posing sexily in the available light coming into the room. He wanted Howard to see him at his best advantage and to want him.

"I need more control. I want you at my mercy," the older man grunted.

"If there's a way..." Rich responded.

And there was a way. As Rich discovered in the daylight, his bed had been equipped for such games. He was bound again, length-wise on the bed, kneeling, wrists restrained to ankles on either side, a leg separator restrained to each ankle, keeping his legs spread. A collar on a chain had been pulled out of the other side of the bed and put on Rich, keeping his cheek pressed to the mattress. A ball gag muted his attempts to cry out as he writhed as best he could and Howard fucked him with his hand, four fingers almost up to the end, before mounting him from behind, as Howard stood on the floor and gave Rich no more of his weight than that of the heavy cock, which Rich now took without difficulty, fully enjoyed, and rewarded by coming in prodigious gushes of his own before Howard did.

Rich had gotten an inkling earlier in the day when he overheard Howard fucking the housekeeper that the older man liked to rough fuck. Rich was learning now that he also liked to bind his prey and for them to be helpless when he was fucking them.

Butler was heavy and hairy and old enough to be Rich's father, but he was very, very good, with a thick cock, able to find and caress every square inch of the young man's channel walls and to send the muscles of Rich's passageway into a combined rippling and clutching effect that had Rich panting and jerking and purring and that sent him to heaven and had him dancing on the clouds. This much bondage was new to him, but he couldn't say that he didn't find it highly arousing. It was all about control. He generally wanted control over the encounter himself, but he was seeing how arousing being completely at the mercy of the other man could be, as well.

When they had both come, Howard unbound Rich and the young man curled up on the bed, panting and groaning.

"Was that...?" Butler whispered in a hoarse voice. He was standing by the bed, obese like a Turkish potentate, but as powerful-looking and in control as a Turkish potentate as well. There was a bit of indecision, for the first time, in his voice.

"That was fine," Rich said in a panting voice. "I've never been taken that high before."

"I can tell that you usually top, but I signaled, and you responded... I know you did."

"Yes, I did. It was fine."

One of Howard's hands went to one of Rich's ankles and stroked it. Rich turned, uncoiling a bit, and looked at Butler in the dim light. Shit, the younger man thought, is he perpetually hard? The cock was standing out proudly, thick, thick, thick, and now, Rich exhilarated in having been able to take it, appreciably longer than he thought it had been.

The stroking on the ankle became a grip, and the man's other hand was on Rich's other calf. "Usually, after the first, I'm much more--"

"That's fine," Rich said through a loan moan, "do it."

Butler gripped the two ankles, and raised and spread Rich's legs, moving the young man onto his back, and move his big belly into position. Rich arched his back and gave a little cry through set teeth, as Howard thrust inside him and did it and did it and did it.

When Howard was finished at last and preparing to leave, he said, almost in a growl, "You will give it to me now whenever I want it." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," Rich answered.