Dylan Thomas Merriweather III Ch. 04

I wondered what he meant by that. Was he tempting me to see whether I was his? Or was he really inviting me to enjoy that beautiful piece of Chinese flesh--provided I wrapped? I told you he was complex. Wheels within wheels. Could I ever learn to be with a guy that seemed to be happy with an open arrangement--so long as he had someone like me to fall back on?

"Sandy looked like you had tortured him. Do you need me tonight? Do you want me tonight?"

"I am not sure what got into me with Sandy. I hope I didn't hurt him. I guess maybe I provoked him. He left here limp and like a chastised puppy. But, I seem to be sleeping so much better in your arms, Greg. Unless you have other plans, I'll see you in an hour or so. I need to spend some office time before then." And he quickly stood, reached down and took my lips in his, and left. Will I ever understand this guy?

We spent the night in his bed with me wrapped tightly around him, but without sex. Then, I took care of his morning wood (after depositing my seed in him) before we went downstairs for breakfast. Tommy was already there (presumably, jet-lagging). He had used the pool and changed into the white terry shorts and the tees that Dylan had stocked in the pool house. The shorts made him seem seven foot tall--and nicely hugged his ass and advertised his basket. He was going to be difficult to resist--and it seemed he was open to either Dylan or me.

After breakfast, I went with Tommy to the control room and he began his routine--and the related tutorial. The monitors and computers are on 24/7 and needed only a keystroke to fill the room with light--and numbers and notations. He picked up the trading "string" from his counterpart in London. (The company traded 24/7 from Annapolis, London and Singapore). He explained the hand-over technique (and handed me a simple protocol checklist): the "yielding" trader was required to settle up trades to insure his exposure was within audit guidelines at the end of each session. Then, he briefly explained events over the last 8 hours that might be relevant and signed off. Tommy picked up the controls. He was 24, but a certified genius. Within a few minutes, he explained the various screens (many of which reflected his invented algorithms), showed me how to detect trends and anomalies, and entered a few trade orders, explaining each in detail. He was a very good teacher--and apparently he wasn't going to try to sabotage me. The computers did most of the work--they only needed a prompt and a password. I began to relax. The only technique was timing--hitting the key just before the counterparty reacted. The morning and afternoon were largely uneventful in the market--trends were predictable. Tommy placed a few bets and by the end of the day, he had made more than a million as he covered his positions and handed over to a counterpart in Singapore.

"Maybe there'll be some excitement tomorrow, but today was pretty routine. We could have been having some fun--the control panels are programmed to alarm any sudden changes. Maybe tomorrow." He looked hard into my eyes and drew mine to his shorts. His long uncut dick was hard and the head was well below the hem. He was big and very long. And quite obviously, he was inviting.

We went to the gym in the house and worked out hard. Toward the end of the time, Dylan walked in. We were hot and sweaty, pumped and breathing hard. "Before dinner, I think I'm up for a threesome. I want you both hot, sweaty, and hard. Let's head to my room." Tommy looked at me. I shrugged as though to say, "He's the boss." So we followed.

Dylan stripped and assumed a bottom position on the bed. Soon we too were naked. We were both erect. Tommy was long, very long, but not too thick. His cock was dark, completely shaved, and with a dark purple head under the tight hood. Maybe he was an inch longer than me--but I was beer can thick. Dylan motioned Tommy to the head and, when Tommy sat and spread his legs, Dylan dove in. Resting on his elbows, his hands reached out to cup the smooth, swollen balls and tighten around the base of the shaft. His mouth touched the head and he quickly sucked it in. Bent in that position, his back curved nicely and his ass was offered up to me. That was my cue to kneel behind and start the entry preparations. I lubed, used fingers, then my tongue. Dylan opened easily. Within minutes, he was deeply plugged on both sides--and obviously enjoying his total submission to two hunky tops. I looked up at Tommy. His eyes were closed. I detected an intense effort to hold back. I realized he was ready to pop, so I speeded up. I wanted simultaneous implantation. So apparently did Dylan--as he coordinated his muscular contractions on my cock with his lip massage of Tommy's. Three near simultaneous orgasms erupted.

Dylan collapsed onto the bed, flipped over and motioned us to his sides. His hands reached out and stroked our semis, deliberately torturing our sensitive glans. He had been recently spit-roasted, but he was still in charge. We were his pets. "Now that's my definition of a happy hour, guys. I'm a two fisted guy with two very different trophy cocks in each hand. What more could I want." Then, just as quickly, he squeezed hard and released us. "Let's get some dinner."

Over dinner, we discussed the day--and Tommy complimented me as a quick study. Then, he pled fatigue and left for the apartment. Dylan once again made in clear he wanted me in his bed. When we got to the room, he said, "So you're 30 in two weeks. We'll definitely need a party. Let's do it on the yacht. Thirty is a big deal in the States--it's when you are no longer trusted by younger guys. You'll be an old man. Do you think you can keep up with my demands? Is that what you plan, Greg? Are you going to become untrustworthy--or worse, limp, in a few weeks?"

I rolled him onto his back and lifted his legs. I positioned in the vee and rolled him back, holding him in a tight fold as I lubed, and tapped my cockhead at his entrance. No prep, this time. I wanted it rough--part of my plans. He wasn't going to get away with an insult to my masculinity--not yet anyway. Soon we were rocking as my hips pushed my cock hard into his chute. His eyes widened, and I even detected a tear. Was it pain? Then he smiled and covered us both with his cream. I followed and filled him with mine. For one of the first times, I had taken him without invitation. And quite brutally.

"Unexpected, Greg. But welcome. I should tease you more often with others."

"Is that what this is--a tease? You know, you don't have to do that. I've already decided. If you'll have me, I'm yours. You don't need to tease."

"Greg, you're growing on me--or rather you've grown in me." He laughed. "But, be careful. I'm not sure I'm ready to settle down. Right now, I've got a lot of options--and they're all big-dicked and handsome. I'd like you to come home to, but I'd still like to take a big cock now and then--for spice and variety."

"I'm okay for the present time with things as they are. But, I'm putting you on notice. I want you and I want you to want only me before long--or I think I'm going to need to go home to Greece."

Wow. I had said it. Perhaps too soon. Perhaps those words would end what we had. But, I had to express my feelings--and why not in the minutes after I had taken my pleasure and brought him to his. He was on a carnal high--and I had given it to him. This was not the first time I had taken him, then comforted him in my arms and with my body.

Dylan smiled at me, rose from the pillow and took my lips. He pulled himself into my lap, straddling me, placing my semi into his cleft, and embraced me, using his hands behind my neck to force our mouths together. We necked for a long time, moaning in pleasure. Then, I moved us into a prone embrace and pulled up the duvet. We would sleep front to front tonight, his hands on my neck, mine on his supple ass cheeks. Was this a yes?

We awoke to an alarm a few hours later--not a bedside alarm, but from the computer. It was signaling a red alert--the highest possible. Quickly, we pulled on the terry shorts, not bothering with tees, and headed for the control room. Tommy was already there. The Chinese had struck at dawn, Africa time. Units of the local Red Guard (nominally assigned as security for the new Chinese-financed and operated port which exported rare earth materials) had occupied the cobalt production facilities--which China claimed as security for defaulted loans previously made. If the seizure held, China would control the vast majority of that precious mineral. The markets were in turmoil. This was a very perilous time for Merriweather Trading. Dylan had more than a week ago instructed his guys (led by Tommy) to take strong long positions--effectively, we owned significant quantities of the metal available for delivery in the next two years. Dylan had bet everything--he was out about $100 million--and cobalt prices had just gone up by a factor of 5.

Dylan and Tommy reviewed the positions--speaking to each other out loud, without time to teach me, but I was nevertheless in the loop given the loud comments. "Europe is already awake. US traders will add steam to the uplift in the next few hours. What do you think, Tommy? I'm guessing we liquidate our positions in a few hours--before any alternatives can be considered to reverse the price increases--or the US politicians begin to voice idle threats."

"I agree, Dylan. Let's liquidate most of the portfolio in two hours, then dribble the rest over a few days. The price could go higher, or it could collapse--if China relents. This screen which tracks in-the-know Chinese state traders shows them beginning to liquidate, but only very small positions. They know something. Perhaps it's just a bluff--and the Chinese government could make a fortune if they threaten control, drive up the price and then back off. I don't think any other traders have a direct link to the Chinese activity--so we have advance, better information. If we detect any significant Chinese trades, we move faster."

For the next hours, we watched the screens carefully and when it appeared the Chinese were moving, we pulled the plug and sold. Days later we would learn that the move was a bluff--to get the Africans to make a significant payment on the infrastructure debt--and China had profited from the trades. But, we continued to "play" for the next two weeks. It was a very profitable time. Dylan had made nearly a fortune. We were definitely now in funny-money land.

"Well, Greg, I think we can afford a real blowout for your thirtieth. Call in the planners immediately!!" He looked at Tommy, who was glowing with pride in his achievement. I could tell that Dylan was about to take him to bed as a reward. My face darkened and I looked away, and Dylan noticed. After all, I had put my cards on the table only a few hours ago. "Tommy, you're entitled to a nice big bonus. I think Greg is too."

Tommy quickly responded. "I set up the tools, but once that was done, Greg has done as well as anyone could have. He may not be able to design the tools yet, but his instincts on timing trades are almost perfect. He seems to get into his counterparts' heads almost immediately. I don't know where you found him, Dylan, but he's a keeper." Then Dylan walked out of the control room--instead of into Tommy's apartment. I think that may have been a signal to me. I sure hope so.

Later that day, Sandy arrived for Dylan's scheduled massage. I was busy with Tommy--we were working together to finalize and document our initial trades and set up alerts for the next few days. But, I did notice that Sandy left about 90 minutes later. The logical conclusion: Dylan had taken only a quick happy ending or had been content with only a massage. My spirits rose even higher. That night, Dylan called me to his room. "You belong here, Greg. I want you to move in tomorrow. I'm going to extend your contract indefinitely."

He pulled me on top and I immediately took possession. I kissed and licked every centimeter of his body as he groaned in pleasure. "Put Andy in, now, Greg. I need you inside." So I stretched out above him, squirmed in our sweat as his legs parted and wrapped around me, his heels pushing me into his center. I entered easily and parked Andy's throbbing head on Dylan's bundle of love nerves, keeping it very much stimulated. His head rose and I took his lips. Then, I started the slow pump, stretching his chute, stimulating his nut, deepening my penetration. This was a first--this was definitely making love. It lasted forever. We climbed the Acropolis together and looked down at the common folks below. Our tension and arousal peaked, almost painfully. I withdrew all but Andy's head and plunged back hard. Dylan knew it was over. He shot his essence into our chests as I filled him with mine, plugging it deep inside him where it would grow and flourish.

"I'm in love, Dylan."

"I think I am too. But, you're going to have to be patient. I know you can't handle an open relationship. So I'll try. I promise at least a year--then we can reassess. But, not until after your birthday. That's going to be my last fling."

"I can handle that." I rolled off and he spooned into me. I only had two more weeks to wait--and then he would be mine, and mine exclusively. I even think I could become a good trader.

The next morning Dylan began the party plans. At first, he suggested that he would send the plane for my family. But, as he continued the description of the party, it became clear that he was planning the biggest two-day orgy that Maryland had ever experienced--and I didn't think my family would be up for that. So we decided that together, after the party, we would go to Greece for a second celebration--and an announcement.

Dylan was quite serious about the birthday bash. Invitations went out by email, text and phone to dozens of guys: a pool party with a buffet in the pool house on Friday night; a Saturday "sail"--although we wouldn't leave the dock; a barbeque at Old Vic late on Saturday afternoon; followed by drinks at the Pink Pelican--which Dylan had booked for the night. Since I had few friends in Annapolis, most guests were acquaintances (and probably bed buddies) of Dylan's. I wasn't too sure how this was "my" birthday party--he was going to be collecting all the gifts.

Appointments were made for haircuts and body "manscaping." Caterers, bartenders, florists and security were all signed up. Of course, Dylan knew all of the firms which catered to gays--no one would be shocked at the plans. And throughout the weeks leading up to the festivities, Dylan and I were together always. That boy doesn't do anything by halves! But, under the excitement, I was afraid. Dylan had declared these to be his last weeks as a "free man." It was like he was planning a birthday party for me and a bachelor's party for himself. I was guessing he was planning to participate in many orgies--which was okay. But, I was fearful that he was going to make another try with Billy--the angel who had bewitched him. I knew Sandy was still providing full service. And Tommy was still in residence. Who knows who else he has invited?

Finally the first party day arrived, and guests started to arrive. The array of bodies in "almost" swimsuits around the pool was fantastic. A few even ventured into the heated pool. Within a half hour, few swimsuits were left, and many were making out (or more) on the chaises surrounding the pool--or in the pool house or on the yacht. The entire atmosphere was no-holds-barred, anything goes--definitely a Fellini X-rated party--that nobody was filming. Bubble butts and erect cocks were everywhere. Tats, nipple and cock rings, dildos and condoms were scattered on the bodies--and the lawn--like confetti.

Sandy of course was there. He already knew that in the future his responsibilities would be reduced, but Dylan had already set him up with a number of friends. He would have a thriving massage business (with or without profitable happy endings) in the gay community. He seemed content--I had assumed he never had his sights set on Dylan for the long term. He soon found a playmate (who was also afraid of the water) and the two of them soon disappeared into Old Vic--as far from the pool as possible. (Sandy, I guess, wanted to show him the gym and massage space.)

The Senator appeared with a super-attractive young "legal assistant". He was a twunk and clearly the Senator was enjoying more than his legal advice. They walked around--the Senator shaking hands with his right as his left hooked in the belt with his palm planted firmly on Dave's cute little butt. I guessed that Dave was already booked. Maybe the Senator was looking for a threesome. A politician can never have too many supporters.

Tommy of course was still in residence and was immediately hooked by an Academy senior, nearly Tommy's height, but outweighing him by quite a bit. He was Tommy's opposite: light haired, clearly all-Anglo and presumably with a thick dick. I think he was on the football team, but, if so, tonight would be an isolated "don't ask, don't tell" adventure. Tommy was the exotic condiment with the longest, thinnest cock I had ever seen. It really looked like a dark snake with a purple head had coiled itself into his crotch, occasionally peaking out of the hem of his shorts. When he removed his suit, it hung semi-limply down his thigh, the purple head glistening with moisture. The cadet couldn't take his eyes off it. And Tommy couldn't take his fist off the thick fireplug that lofted from the soon-to-be-Marine's gut. They seemed to be in heavy negotiation. My money was on Tommy.

And then there was Billy. I knew this would be the supreme test. Dylan had fallen hard for Billy and I could understand why. Billy was absolutely from a super race of desirable young men and, realistically, just an exotic lover to be taken from time to time. No one was entitled to cage and own such beauty which exuded affection and sex appeal. I was pretty sure, Dylan wanted one more set of games with Billy before we went exclusive in two days. Late in the afternoon, while I was occupied with a number of groupies who were hitting on me (pinching my dark nipples and wiggling butts in my lap) under the guise of wishing me well on my birthday, I noticed that Dylan and Billy had disappeared. Meanwhile I enjoyed the attention of the beautiful young men. Dylan knew I liked twinks as "snack food" and he had provided several for my enjoyment. An hour later, I saw them arm in arm walking back from the yacht. I assumed they had consummated their mutual attraction in the owner's cabin with its mirrored ceiling, perhaps for the last time. I wondered how Dylan conducted his good-by fucks.

Tommy had taken his conquest to the apartment. Or maybe it was the other way around. But they were gone.

Others were necking, stroking and fucking on virtually every horizontal surface--and even some vertical ones!

Much later the party died to a quieter slumber event. Many had bedded down under towels on the chaises unless they were lucky enough to find suitable spots on the yacht or in the pool house. At least I took solace in that we would be in bed together in a short while. Dylan approached, took my hand and we headed for our room. "Can I do you tonight, Greg? I want to give you a birthday gift."

"Of course. Let's go. I'm at your command."

We quickly washed the "chlorine" off, dried and headed for the king. I positioned in the center, belly down and spread. Dylan knelt beside me and rolled me onto my back. "Tonight, I need to see my birthday boy's eyes as I deliver my present." Dylan liberally coated my body with lotions and stretched out over me to begin his version of a full body massage--taking my lips in his, sucking and biting my tits, stroking our shafts together, licking my balls, taking them each in turn into his warm mouth. Then he slipped back and I pulled my legs up and held them behind my knees. He popped the cap on the flavored lube and began to stroke. His fingers were soon replaced with his tongue. He probed deep, almost touching the nut. His cockhead was soon at the gate. It pounded a few times and pushed in. He hadn't taken me often and I was pretty tight. "You feel so good in me, Dylan. Go ahead. I'm ready. Make it rough. I know you like it that way. I can handle it--and you, anytime, any day."