Hunting Hamid

Forty-year-old Moroccan financier Cepos Jawhar put up a hand to silence and stay the movement of his driver, Mehdi, as they left from the back porch of the Boucher Lodge overlooking the Coaticook River two miles north of the Canadian-U.S. border, in Stanhope. They had been on their way to the car park to leave for the municipal airport in Coaticook to meet up with one of Jawhar's business associates. This stay at the Boucher Lodge was supposed to be a rest retreat from his busy work--or so he'd told the others booked at the remote forest lodge, known not only for whitetail deer hunters but also for well-heeled gay men who wanted to "get away" and express themselves in private. But in the week he'd been here, business associates had come and gone at the Coaticook airport as if the remote border area of Quebec above Vermont were a beehive.

He had sensed motion in the octagonal summer house down at the edge of the woods near the bank of the small river. Jawhar was wary of any suspicious movement around him. He was in delicate business negotiations and he was here because he didn't want anyone to know he was here who he wasn't doing business with.

Motioning for Mehdi to be quiet, he moved into the trees between the parking area and the summer house and crept up closer to the summer house.

The Canadian action film movie star, Nathan Hebert, had the young American companion the French nature photographer, Hiver Baies, brought to the lodge two days previously pinned under him on the bench in the summer house. Hebert, in his thirties and with a magnificent physique, was bare-chested and his trousers were unbuckled, unzipped, flared, and pushed down to under his hips. The young man, Scott Campbell, small, blond, achingly handsome, deceptively innocent looking, full lipped, and sleek of body, was writhing under the Canadian actor.

The young man, who couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty and who Jawhar had had his eye on since the couple arrived, was naked. He was on his back on the bench, his left leg raised and pressed into the screening of the side of the summer house interior. Hebert, crouched between the young man's thighs, pressing him down, belly to belly, was grasping the ankle of Campbell's right leg and was folding the leg into Campbell's chest to get it out of the way.

Jawhar wasn't surprised at what he found. The dinner the night before at the lodge had been fraught with sexual tension. Baies, probably in his fifties and a distinguished and powerful-bodied man who the couple running the lodge, Liam Boucher and Edouard Grenia, had declared to be quite a famous French magazine photographer, had been in his cups and was glowering at everyone, while the highly charismatic Canadian actor, Nathan Hebert, had been putting the make on Baies's boy toy. Hebert had recently been in the news, some sort of scandal with the young husband of one of his movie leading ladies, and was hiding out in the forest from the media. Along with Jawhar, these were the only visitors in residence at the moment. Liam Boucher, who was large--almost fat--at fifty and who had turned his family's hunting lodge into a specialized inn, hosted the dinner, while his declared spouse, a far younger, sultry and dark Edouard, helped serve.

It hadn't appeared at dinner that Hebert was making headway in seducing the beautiful little blond, Scott, at the table, but clearly he had been. Baies hadn't been too drunk to not notice the seduction, though, and Jawhar wondered what fireworks might ensue from this tryst. He would like to get his dick in the young American himself. He'd known the young man took cock. This was a gay trysting resort and Scott was an obvious submissive. Through dinner he'd had the impulse to reach over and let the small bun at the back of the young man's head down. Just watching Scott at dinner had made Jawhar hard and wanting to cover him. Hebert had beat him in sinking his cock in the young man's ass. He accomplished this in the summer house, and the young man looked more beautiful than handsome, with his hair cascading to his shoulders and his lithe body bouncing with the rhythm of Hebert's hip thrusts. Scott obviously had no trouble taking a stranger's shaft.

From where Jawhar was standing, he could see Hebert's cock taking its pleasure pleasure in fucking the young blond's hole. The young man was enjoying the fucking too. He was moaning and had his fists pressed to Hebert's hairy, muscular chest, whether to try to push the movie star away or to hold him in place was unclear. What was clear was that the cock was holed and the young man was fucked. Hebert, grunting at the exertion of the thrusts, dipped down for a lip-lock kiss, and the young man opened his mouth to receive the man's tongue. Whatever the level of the youth's initial acceptance, he was moving his hips with the thrusts now, going with the rhythm of the fuck.

Hebert had a gold medallion on a chain around his neck, and when his torso rose again after the deep kiss, the medallion slipped into the blond's mouth, and the young man sucked on it, his eyes hooded and staring in awe at the face of the famous actor, as vigorous thrusting of the fuck continued. Whether or not the young man was just teasing the movie star at dinner, he was well fucked now by the man, and clearly knew he was.

Jawhar wondered if it was just Hebert's celebrity that gave him such ready and willing access to the young man. Would Scott Campbell lay down and open his legs as easily for Jawhar. That wasn't quite what would excite Jawhar, though. Back in his country he knew what to do with young, small blonds like this. Back in his country Jawhar would--and sometimes did--take a young man like Campbell by force--and then again and again until the young man was exhausted and totally used. That's what he clearly would like to do with this one.

Mehdi touched Jawhar's arm to signal that they needed to leave for the airport, but Jawhar, one hand on his own crotch, lifted the other one to stay him. He wanted to live this climax vicariously. He wanted to fuck the young blond himself. He wanted to conquer and totally use him. They young man was making love with the aging movie star. With Jawhar, it would be war--total sex; the Arabs conquering the Christians.

The two fucking men were going for climax. Hebert was holding Scott tight, his hips moving faster, his thrusts reading deeper. Back arched, mouth open in a wide yawn, and making deep moaning sounds punctuated with "Yes, yes, deep. Fuck me deep," Scott's hips with also in quickening countermotion. Taking it, taking it, taking it. They stayed for the final thrusts, the hold on the brink of paradise, the arching of Hebert's back, the jerk, and the small cry of both men as they came almost together--the loosening of Hebert's hold and Scott slowly collapsing back on the bench, murmuring "Oh, fuck. It was so big inside me. So much cum. You are a lion of a man. Fuck me again." All of these observations must have been sweet for the aging actor to hear from a honey like Campbell.

"Not as big as I am," Jawhar muttered from his vantage point. The blond is, I think, the one really controlling the fuck, Jawhar mused. The old actor is so happy to be dipping in something that desirable that he doesn't understand that the young man is controlling from the bottom. He won't do that for me. He will try, but I will have him sobbing and begging for mercy--but I will give him no mercy. He will know who the master is.

When Hebert pulled out, Jawhar was surprised to see that he'd been barebacking the young honey. So, he thought, an impromptu rather than an arranged tryst probably. He wondered what approach he himself could take with the luscious little piece. He was no movie star, but he was as hard-bodied as Hebert was, and, as far as he could see, bigger where it counted.

The young blond was too innocent looking and acting. He needed to be dominated... conquered... totally used. Young blonds like this had not walked away from how Jawhar used them--in his country.

The show over, he turned and walked back to the Land Rover Discovery off-road SUV in the parking area. His other "associate," Ikram, was waiting by the car for them and opened the door for Jawhar to enter. As he did so, his jacket flipped open enough to reveal he was armed with a shoulder holstered gun. So was Mehdi.

* * * *

The Canadian movie star, Nathan Hebert, had been able to entrap Hiver Baies's young companion, Scott Campbell, in the summer house and fuck him because Baies had taken off on a photoshoot and left Campbell behind at the lodge. The young man had made quite clear in signaling and a brief exchange of murmurs in a back hall of the inn that Campbell would be happy to hook up with the movie star if the photographer, who was quite possessive, provided an opportunity. Campbell had been quite the tease. But he also was quite interested in adding a movie star, no matter how faded, to the list of men who'd fucked him.

Baies had business of his own. He wasn't as worried about what Scott might do as either of them had let on. Before Baies took off in his Jeep, he had tracked Liam Boucher down and made him an offer that Boucher didn't much like but was offered too much money to refuse. The lodge's profits had been down over the last few months and it wasn't like he and Edouard were really married or had taken any sort of constancy pledge to each other. And Edouard had just the previous evening remarked how sexy the Moroccan was.

Baies stopped the Jeep a mile from the lodge and went out by the river and took some photos. He wanted to be sure he could produce some he took, if challenged. Then he got back in the Jeep and drove another mile south on Canadian Route 147. It became Vermont Route 114 at the U.S. border. He stopped at the border control building where the road crossed into the United States in Norton, Vermont, and went inside for a cup of coffee. When he came back out, four other vehicles had pulled up in the parking lot. Their occupants got out and acquired their own cups of coffee, and the assembled group had a nice, long chat.

When Cepos Jawhar and his close associates arrived at the Coaticook Municipal Airport, they pulled into the private plane storage area rather than the small terminal building. A 1994 Beechjet 400A corporate jet had landed and pulled into the storage area an hour before Mehdi drove Jawhar into the airport in the Land Rover Discovery. Jawhar went on board the aircraft for an hour and a half, and when he came off, the jet flew out again. The pilots had gone into the terminal building to file flight plans, drink coffee, and jaw with the airport staff, as well as they could in Arabic-spiced English, but no passengers had come off the plane. No Canadian authorities went on the jet either. They were all looking the other way. They were looking the other way when Mehdi and Ikram pulled two boxes out of the jet and put them in the back of the Discovery next to other, similar boxes as well.

When Jawhar returned to the Boucher Lodge, the owner's partner, the slim, boyish, and a bit limp-wristed Edouard Grenia was just coming out of the river, where he had taken a swim. He was a sultry, dark-haired young man with an affecting "come hither" look in his eyes. He saw Jawhar come in from the car park with Mehdi and Ikram, who continued on to the inn. Edouard caught Jawhar's eye, though, and established his "come hither" interest. The two met in the summer house and did some talking and then some fondling and kissing before they left the gazebo and went up to the main lodge together.

Jawhar was on his knees between Edouard's legs, the young, sultry inn worker's ankles on Jawhar's shoulders when they first heard voices in the adjoining room. Edouard was on his back, his arms extended above his head, his wrists cuffed to the corners of the headboard, his briefs shoved into his mouth to muffle his cries, as Jawhar moved to clutching the young man's buttocks in his hands, lifting Edouard's pelvis up to his crotch, his oversized cock buried in the Canadian's channel, pistoning him hard and fast, with Edouard sobbing for relief that Jawhar was denying him, and fucking down into him when they heard the loud argument next door become heated. Jawhar paused in his assault, his attention going to the argument on the other side of the wall. Edouard, panting and moaning low, gave an occasional jerk as Jawhar gave him attention, thrusting hard and deep before pausing and listening.

What they first clearly could hear through the wall was Hiver Baies giving Scott Campbell a tongue lashing. The verbal attack clearly was about the attentions the young man had let the movie actor, Nathan Hebert, pay to him the previous night at dinner. The tongue lashing seemed to remain focused on the previous night until Campbell must have let something slip about meeting the actor in the summer house while Baies was off snapping off nature photos in the afternoon. Then it got violent. Baies was throwing the young man around and beating on him. Edouard started to move out from underneath Jawhar to go try to break up what had become violent, but Jawhar wouldn't let him go.

"Leave it. It has nothing to do with us. I'm not done with you yet." Thereupon Edouard settled down. He really didn't have much choice--his wrists were bound to the headboard, his ankles were trapped on the Moroccan's shoulders, and Jawhar's huge cock was deep in his ass.

For Jawhar's part, he was enjoying the entertainment from across the wall. He was used to violence and was turned on by rough sex. This was increasing his enjoyment of using the helpless Edouard. There was always the chance he'd have an opportunity to console the cute little American blond later--maybe even by knocking him around a bit, although the young blond seemed more one to make love to rather than to take forcefully.

The two sides of the wall ended the afternoon in consort. The roughness in the other room was juicing Jawhar up. He was slapping the young man around was thrusting hard enough inside Edouard for the headboard of the bed to be bouncing off the wall. This was happening in harmony to what was going on the other side the wall too. Baies had obviously decided to end his lecture with sex. Fucking was going on so intensely in his room that his bed was rhythmically hitting the wall as well.

Scott Campbell was learning who was boss and who was in control of their relationship. Scott Campbell was getting the shit fucked out of him on the other side of the wall.

Cepos Jawhar wanted some of that too. In the meantime he was reducing Edouard to a helpless, whimpering vessel for Jawhar's cruel mastery.

* * * *

Scott Campbell didn't appear for dinner that night. Edouard, limping but humming, took a dinner up to him in the room he shared with Hiver Baies. While talking with Liam Boucher and avoiding telling him that he'd royally fucked his young partner, Edouard, that afternoon, Jawhar cast sideways looks of censure at Baies, who was happily talking with the Canadian movie star, Nathan Hebert, about the photoshoot in the forest that Hebert had agreed to let the French photographer do the next day. Jawhar was no puritan in terms of sexual violence or in keeping someone you owned under control, but until he had this beautiful young blond under his thumb the way Baies had Campbell, he didn't like the thought of anyone but him damaging the good. He'd give him so much cruel cock that the guy wouldn't be looking elsewhere. He'd ravished Edouard that afternoon and still the young man wanted more.

He made another run to the airport after dinner with Mehdi and Ikram in the Land Rover and the main lodge was in darkness when they got back. Mehdi and Ikram went to the lodge and their rooms in the attic--they took their meals in the kitchen. They weren't fully lodge guests. They were staff Jawhar had brought with him on his working vacation.

Peeling off from the two, Jawhar went down to the bank of the Coaticook River--more of a creek running south into the United States two miles away--to smoke a cigarette. On his way back to the main lodge building, he heard a low sob coming from the summer house and he went to investigate. Scott Campbell, just in sleeping shorts, was hunched over on the bench in the summer house in the near dark. He was sitting in a beam of light from the moon, though, and Jawhar could see that he'd been beaten. The young man had a black eye, his lip was cut, and there was a bruise in the hollow of his chest where his left arm met the torso. There was another one on his lower belly. Still, the young man was looking sexy as hell. Jawhar was outraged that he wasn't the one who'd gotten the enjoyment out of inflicting this damage. Obviously, if he was going to get it the way he wanted it from this young man now, he'd have to work up to it--going from tender to tenderizing. He entered the summer house and stood before the forlorn figure sitting on the bench.

"What happened to you? Baies beat you, didn't he?" he said.

"Yes," Scott said, trying, but not able, to stifle a snuffle.

"Why do you let him do that?"

"He saved me. He gives me so much."

"And he takes so much from you, doesn't he?" Jawhar asked, sitting on the bench beside the young man and putting his hand on Scott's knee. He was aching to put his hands all over the young man's beautiful body. He was aching to cover the young man and use him as hard as Baies had.

"He says I give too much to others--but I was doing it for him... because I thought he wanted me to."

Jawhar put an arm around the young American. His hand glided down to Scott's left pec and he stroked the nipple with his thumb. The nipple puffed up for him. The youth didn't seem to notice--or at least he didn't lean away. In fact, he settled more into the chest of the man sitting close beside him now. Steady as you go, Jawhar was thinking. Take him slow. Be his buddy and then be his master.

"I don't understand. What was it you did for Baies that made him mad at you? He beat you this afternoon, in your room, didn't he?"

"Yes, he beat me, and then he..."

"Then he took you hard, didn't he? He takes you hard in sex, doesn't he? He fucks you rough." Jawhar could feel himself nearly trembling to be doing the same.

"Yes."

"And you let him."

"It's a bit exciting. It makes me feel alive." Hearing that made Jawhar feel alive too.

"I heard him beating on you--and taking you hard afterward. I heard. I was in the next room. I heard. I couldn't help but hearing." Jawhar's right hand went to palming the young man's belly. Scott didn't seem to notice, but he decided he needed to check. "Am I crowding you here? Making you uncomfortable?"

"No. It's nice. You're nice."

I'm going to get to fuck him, Jawhar thought. This was exhilarating.

"I heard you too... I think... at least I thought it was you," Scott continued. "You with Edouard. The bed was hitting the wall so hard that I thought... that I sort of wished..."

"That it had been you... with me? If you are asking if I cover young men like you and with vigor, the answer is yes. But I can be a lover too. I can build to what my partner wants. In some ways was the photographer giving you what you wanted? You need not be shy with me."

"Yes," Scott murmured.

"Does your photographer have what I have?" Jawhar asked. He unzipped and pulled his half hard out.

"Shit. Oh, fuck," Scott whispered, and Jawhar could hear the young man panting. He moved the fingers of the hand palmed on the young man's belly to under the waistband of his sleeping shorts, the fingers playing in the trimmed hair of the youth's pubes.

"I had no idea you were that big. I didn't know any man could be that big."

"But now you do."

"Yes."

"What was it you did for Baies that he didn't take well?" Jawhar let his index finger push through the youth's pubic hair down to the base of his cock, which responded by expanding. The young man was panting lightly. He also put Scott's hand on his erection so the young man could feel it continue to engorge. Scott didn't take his hand away.