The Leading Man

When I went to the Eleon for tennis with Andreas and a swim, Christos almost always was there. And almost always the only ones using the pool then were the three of us. So a couple of times a week I was being fucked in the Eleon pool after tennis. When we didn't have it to ourselves, I´d be fucked in Andreas's office.

It became quite the regular activity. I suppose it was inevitable that it would become noticed in the embassy--in the Station, the intelligence community office designed to pick up on activities like I was engaging in with Andreas and Christos.

* * * *

Campbell was inside me deep, moving that thick, jet-black cock of his in and out, a chocolate-colored arm laced under my lower back, raising my pelvis to his penetration as he knelt between my thighs on the bed in his Nicosia flat and fucked me in long, deep slides. My hands went from clutching his shoulder blades to gliding down his muscular back to his globular buttocks, where, as I mounted toward liftoff, I squeezed the orbs to the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Shit. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck! Give it to me. I'm going to come!" I cried out, and then, one of my hands moving to stroking my erection hard, I did, convulsing. Jerking and spouting, jerking and spouting, up the man's hard belly.

With a grunt, he pulled out of me; rolled off the bed; pulled the condom off of his huge shaft, tossing it in a nearby wastebasket; picked up the glass of Scotch he'd left on the nightstand; and walked over to the glass doors out onto a balcony. He leaned against the doorframe and starred up at the Kyrenia mountain range running east to west across the horizon beyond the flat and red-tile roofs of the city's Makedonitissa residential area pushed up against the Green Line separating Greek from Turkish Cyprus. He was a beautiful young man, although young was relative. He was six years older than I was.

Jock Campbell was a junior political officer at the American embassy--twenty-five to my nineteen. He was about the closest embassy officer to my age and he was athletic and played tennis and pickup basketball in the embassy's courtyard, so we'd established a friendship and often ate lunch together in the embassy canteen and even more often played tennis together at the Eleon. We'd discovered each other in a hidden gay bar in Engomi, not far from the embassy compound, not long after I'd arrived in Cyprus, and he'd been fucking me occasionally since then. He ran with the embassy's Marine guards, who were his equals in age and athletic inclination, and although none of them had fucked me, I enjoyed being with them and would have gladly taken them on if they'd been so inclined. This encounter on a Saturday was at his invitation.

He'd been the one who had brought me the secret cable from my mother on the previous Friday afternoon. I thought that was a little strange, since he wasn't a commo section guy or anything. I had relatives all over the foreign service spectrum. It's what I was studying at Georgetown University to do as well. My uncle was the ambassador here, my dad did something with NATO in Belgium, and my mother was the deputy undersecretary at State to do with something involving Southeast Asia. The cable had said she'd be on a U.S. delegation to an ASEAN conference, ASEAN being an eleven-Southeast Asian-country members political and economic bloc, in Jakarta in a month and that there was a slot for a support aide on the delegation if I was interested in getting the experience.

The deputy chief of mission, who was supervising me, already knew about the cable and sent for me to tell me they could spare me here if I wanted to go--that it would be good experience for me. I didn't doubt they could spare me here. This had been a make-work internship for me without any real duties attached. The DCM certainly seemed more than willing to shuffle me on to Southeast Asia. I think my uncle was having second thoughts about the nepotism of having me here, doing pretty much what I wanted to do, although I don't think he knew about the gay shit I was into. If I was interested, I'd be sent back to Washington for briefing on my job and documentation and I'd fly out from there with the delegation--and my mother. I was happier about flying with the delegation than that my mother would be on it too. She was a real dragon. She'd watch me like a hawk.

I said it came as a surprise and I'd think about it and let them know in a few days. At the same time he showed me the cable, Campbell set up this tryst with him at his flat on Saturday.

I lay there, on my back, panting, my legs spread and bent, my hole gaping from the size of the young, black embassy officer. I was staring at Jock at the door to the balcony, willing him to come back and fuck me again. He had a great, chocolate-brown body, with even darker cock and balls, and he looked magnificent standing in front of the sweep of the Kyrenia Mountains across the rolling, arid hills of northern Cyprus.

"Come back. Do me again," I murmured.

He turned his face to me, took a deep swig of his Scotch, and said, not smiling, "You're such a randy slut."

"Yes, I am. I can't help it," I said. "Do you mind?"

He didn't answer that directly, the first indication to me that maybe he was doing me because it was the job and not because I was too sexy to resist. "That's the curse here," he said. "It's also the blessing, I suppose. But it's an asset--that you're so sexy and willing. You just should be from another family."

"I don't understand," I said.

"You've been staying out over night too much. It's been noticed. The ambassador has responsibility for you. You're too young and out there too much, and he's chaffing under that responsibility."

"I didn't realize it was noticed or that anyone cared," I said. "I could tone it down. I wouldn't like to have to tone it down with you, though. Come back to bed and ball me again with that great cock of yours."

"It's too late to tone it down, I think," he said. He went over to a desk, opened the top drawer, took out a manila envelope, and tossed it on the bed. "Open it. Take a look at these."

I did. Inside were photos of Christos, Andreas, and me fucking in the Eleon pool. I was bent over the side of the pool, my chest on Andreas's folded legs, and I was giving him head. Christos was fucking me from behind.

"You're getting a bit too friendly with the locals too often--and too openly," he said.

"How did you get these?" I asked. Was someone local thinking they'd try to blackmail the embassy for some advantage with these?

"I took them myself. I'd heard you were at the Eleon and I had time on my hands, so I'd come over to see if we could have a match. This is what I found you doing."

"And this is what the cable was about? The cable from my mother? She's found out and wants to pull me out? And now that I'm asking, why was it you who brought me the cable? Do they know you are fucking me too?"

"The ambassador and DCM don't know and I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. My boss knows, but, against my wishes, he sees this as an opportunity."

"Your boss? The political counsellor?"

"No, not just the political counsellor. He's more here than that. You'll find out anyway. Being in the political section is just a cover. I actually work in the Station. My boss is the chief of station."

The Station was the CIA shop in the embassy. My blood suddenly was running cold.

"And, no, your family doesn't know that you so easily open your legs for men--at least not from us. The ambassador and DCM haven't seen these photos. They just think you aren't taking the internship here seriously and are going out too much at night. They want you gone before something happens that embarrasses them or the embassy. They either have no idea it's local men you're seeing--or, if they suspect that, they aren't saying. They've just gotten to your parents on wanting you out of here."

"Is that all?" I asked. "I sense there's more to this."

"I've only been directed to try to get you to accept your mother's offer. There's more involved, but it's beyond my brief to go into that with you now. Now, look, you've made me hard again. Go over on your belly and raise your tail to me. Show me that hole again."

There was more. I could have tried to weasel the "more" out of him then, but I was in heat. I wanted him inside me. So, I turned over, went up on my knees, and raised my arms, grasping the headboard. I cried out as, after having made a stop at the nightstand to leave his Scotch glass and acquire and roll on another condom, he mounted and penetrated me and started the dance of the fuck one more time.

Whatever the "more" was, I could find that out later. Before then I was going to have to decide whether I'd take on my mother's change-of-assignment offer or just try to tone down my activities a bit here. I'd found I wanted to be dominated by older men. The actor, Christos Theopolis, had become my leading man. If I had to give something up here, it would be Jock Campbell's jet-black cock.

But he did me oh so well--he was doing me oh so well right now.

* * * *

The extent to which my leading man had control over me was shown a couple of days later when he called me at work early one morning and said, "You weren't at the Eleon this morning. Adreas and I are going fishing off Limassol this afternoon with some sexy guys down there. We want you to come with us."

"I don't fish," I said.

"You won't be fishing," he said, with a laugh. I, of course, understood what he meant. "They run a movie studio down there, Sun Studios. They want to do a film. They've seen your photos. They want to audition you."

"It's a porn film and they want me to be in it?" I asked.

"Not today. Today is an audition. I'd be the leading man, but you'd be in the film, yes. They wouldn't film today, though. Today would be an audition."

"I'm working," I said. "I have a job here in the embassy."

"We'll pick you up at the Eleon at 1:30 p.m.," Christos said.

Of course I was there when they picked me up in Andreas's car. And I can't say that Christos had misled me about what this fishing exhibition was going to be.

There were five of them, in addition to Christos and Andreas. All of them were hunks, which most Cypriot men were, in my observation, until they reached about sixty-five, when most of them shriveled up, fell apart, and spent their time at outdoor coffee shops, drinking coffee and beer, and ogling passing girls--and often young men like me--through nicotine-stained gapped teeth. These five guys from Sun Studio were not old guys. They were all young and muscular and fit. And they were all primed to do more than just deep-water fishing in the Mediterranean south of the Cypriot coast.

They all did fish on the deck and drink beer, smoke cigarettes, engage in raucous conversation, and cavorting around with each other. But they each, including Christos and Andreas, took their turn slipping down into the ship's cabin, where I lay on my back the entire cruise with my legs spread and bent, and each, in turn, fucked me. And when they'd gone through the rota once, they started it all over again. I took seven cocks, more than once each, all of them hard and insistent. Each of them was of different size and intensity and style, but I took each of them, rocking on the cocks, taking them inside me, moaning a surrender for each and obtaining varying levels of pleasure of my own.

I hadn't been coerced to be here and I wasn't being held captive. Andreas had determined I'd be turned on by this experience, and Andreas wasn't wrong.

I took them all... for hours... while the men fished, and laughed, and drank beer, and palled it around on deck. They took photos of me in various poses of being and having been taken, but they didn't do any videoing. I was told that it was part of the audition, and I let them photograph me, even though I wasn't intentionally part of an audition for anything.

I could barely walk straight in the twilight when the fishing boat returned to the Limassol marina. Andreas told me to go to the line of outdoor cafés stretched out along the quay on the land side of the marina and told me to get a table put together for the eight of us at the Café Calma.

"They enjoyed you," he said. "They'll talk to us about doing a movie after they've closed down their boat."

I walked toward the quay, seeing Jock Campbell standing there, obviously waiting for me, before I reached the Café Calma.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing hold of my arm. "You look like you've been fucked over."

"By seven, yes," I answered. "They want me to do a movie."

"Sure they do. Let's talk about that."

He guided me past the Café Calma to the Epsilon Resto Bar further along the quay, and he pulled me inside, where Christos and the others might not see us.

"Those guys film gay male porno movies. Did you know that?" he asked after we'd settled at a table and been served beer.

"Did you come all the way down here to Limassol to find me?" I asked.

"I followed you down. I've been waiting for you all day. You've been made my primary job. I asked if you knew those guys made gay male porn."

"Yes, I know that. You followed me down? You've been assigned to be my minder by the ambassador?"

"Not by the ambassador. By the Station. Once you've made a porn film with those guys you'll be all over the Internet. Did you stop long enough to consider that? I know you're into sex like that, but the first film you make, you'll be known as a gay male porn actor. The career you were born into will be screwed. You don't want to be in the Foreign Service with all sorts of cushy backing because of who your family is? You're giving yourself so openly here to screw your family?"

"No. This is just a fling." I hadn't thought all that much about what being so open with my gay sexuality would mean for my future career. I guess I had been taking my status for granted. "Sorry," I said. "Guess I'm screwed."

"Not yet, you're not. You have the background, the sexual inclination, and some sort of deep attraction to men that gives you an opportunity to fit in nicely in a career with the Agency."

"A career? You said you were sent after me by the Station, not the ambassador."

"That's right. We have a place in the CIA where you would fit nicely. You can have your sexual adventures and your foreign service status and you can be serving the national interests as well. If you're interested, you should accept your mother's invitation to join a delegation to Southeast Asia--and you should just stop any consideration of making a movie with these Sun Studio guys or being a slave to Christos Theopolis anymore."

"Tell me more," I said.

* * * *

"Cory Cumberland?" It was a question, but the man knew who I was. He was tall and solid, standing straight and proud, all squared out and with a buzz cut, looking squared away and in control--and just a bit dangerous--even though he must be in his early fifties. He was dressed expensively but giving the aura that he was more comfortable in army fatigues and combat boots.

I was sitting in the lobby bar of the Hive Hotel, on Virginia Avenue, two blocks from the State Department in Washington, D.C., where I was being briefed to fly out with a delegation liaising with an ASEAN conference in Jakarta, Indonesia. I had been instructed to wait in this bar for a meet and greet with the man who was supposed to be my controller in a new job.

"That's me," I said, as the man sat down across from me at the table. "Mr. Winterberry?"

"Yes. Sam Winterberry. I head the Agency's Candy Store Unit. I trust you've been briefed on what we do and what you are being offered to join us."

"Yes, sir."

"Then I suppose we should go directly to the initiation. You have a room here, don't you?"

"Yes, I'm booked here while on temporary assignment to State. But initiation?"

"If you were told about the Candy Store Unit, you were told how I keep my people in line."

"I thought that was a joke," I said.

"It was no joke. You were recruited because you are randy and can't get enough of it and because you have all the qualifications that makes for good male candy combined with a plausible background that will give you great cover for what we need. If you are going to join the unit, we're going up to your room and I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. You will become my sex slave. I understand that you easily fell under the spell of a leading man in Cyprus. I'm going to be your leading man now." He stood up from the table. "Shall we?"

"Yes, sir," I said, standing. I shuddered, but this was exactly what I melted to.