Unfathomable

I sat, skewered by his cock, holding myself slightly off his lap at his request, bearing my weight on the balls of my feet, while I watched and listened to a Mozart opera on stage and he rhythmically fucked up into my channel. I made a little yipping noise each time that cock ring dragged across my prostate. He had his hands snaked up under my shirt and worried my nipples while I stroked my cock to completion. At his suggestion I had my linen handkerchief draped over my lap to catch as much of the cum I spouted as possible—to keep both of our tuxes clean. At the point of my ejaculation, his mouth went to the hollow of my neck and he lightly teethed my throbbing artery as I sighed my release. Timing was everything, and I knew I would remember that moment forever—the ejaculation came at the height of a love duet on stage.

He left me just before the second interval, after standing close beside me in the shadows and holding my face to his crotch as I cleaned his cock with my mouth and then helped to readjust his tux. As he was leaving, I gave him my card and hissed that I had to see him again—that he could come to my beach home any time he could get away. The sooner the better.

It had been the best of all setups for Raul to be moving to a new sugar daddy. Not only was he a hunk to view and a stud in cock play, but he was brilliant in his choice of claiming me. I—a veteran of the New York Metropolitan Opera—had never had such an uplifting sexual experience as being fucked to a live staging of a Mozart opera. I was bowled over. I was dangerously close to being in love. I certainly was in deep want and lustful need.

It was three maddening days before he appeared at my door. He was driving a BMW sports car that, I thought, must have set his older daddy back nearly a hundred-thousand. I had gone to the beach every day, spending the entire morning and afternoon at Joey's. But neither Raul nor his sugar daddy appeared the first day, and a family took up residence in the cabana the following two days.

He was all smiles and not the least bit apologetic for leaving me hanging. "I had business meetings," was all he said.

Yeah, right. He had business meetings. He was out spending daddy's money. That's what he was doing.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I want you again." I took him by the hand. I planned to lead him right back to my bedroom, but Raul's Latin temperament was clicking in. We stopped in the middle of the living room and rocked back and forth against each other's bodies, kissing and feeling and unbuttoning and unsnapping and stepping out of clothes. And then, naked, we were kissing and feeling again.

He had extracted a condom and lubricant before his trousers hit the floor, and he simply pushed me back into the center of one of my deep couches and knelt between my legs. He worked my cock briefly with his mouth and then rolled my hips up and was going after my entrance with his lips and then lubricated fingers, as I groaned and stroked my cock and floated on the clouds of heaven.

He fucked me there, crouched between my thighs, my ankles resting on his shoulders, and his hands working my cock and nipples. Bringing me to the brink again and again and then holding and then renewing the plowing until I couldn't take it anymore and ejaculated in a cry of ecstasy. Virile young man that he was, though, he continued stroking and I was ready to come again before he did.

We held there for several minutes, as I felt him ebbing away from inside me.

"That was nice," he said. "I do like a bit of variety now and then. If you are coming down next year, we should arrange to do this again."

"Next year?" I exploded in surprise. "I want you in the next ten minutes again. I want you every night. I want you in my bed."

"Sorry, old chap. I have a live in." Raul was almost jovial, as if he wasn't angling for anything at all here.

"A live in? That old man I saw you with at the beach?"

"Well, yes, actually. Teddy's my permanent. He indulges me with a side blow from time to time. I have rather a fetish for interesting older men. But we've been together for three years now—and I plan for that to last forever."

"Who is he? A Rockefeller?" I asked, becoming frustrated and a bit angry now. Raul hadn't even pulled his dick out of me yet. But he'd gone flaccid, and although I was trying to arouse him again, it didn't look like we were going to manage that. "God, I want you again now," I growled, giving up all of my pride.

"Sorry, Teddy and I fucked before I came over here and he'll want it again when I return. He's insatiable."

"Again who is he? Think of him and think of me. What does he have that I don't."

"My love, actually. I'm sorry. But it's a permanent thing with us I'm afraid."

"What is he paying you? I'll double it. Whatever it is."

He gave me a funny look then and pulled out of me and walked over to the center of the room and started separating his clothes from mine.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" he suddenly asked, turning and looking at me hard.

"You're Raul. That's all you told me."

"Ah, well. We'd mentioned New York papers. I rather thought you had seen my photo in the society pages at least as often as I've seen yours. I didn't think I'd need to give you my last name. I'm Raul Delaplane. Of the Argentine Delaplanes."

Delaplane. The Argentine Delaplanes. Richer than anyone not from the Persian Gulf. Oh, shit.

Then he gave me the funniest look. "Oh, you thought I was some sort of gigolo and Teddy was my sugar daddy, didn't you?" As he was pulling his briefs on, still looking like a luscious dark angel, he reared his head back and laughed. "It's rather the opposite, I'm afraid," he said through attempts to cease chortling. "Teddy's penniless other than what I give him. He was my tutor, and my first love. And, I hope, my last love."

After Raul had gone, I lay there, my legs still open, mourning the loss of his cock, and contemplating how unfathomable this scenario of Raul and his old lover was. What was this fickle thing called love? I wondered. And would I ever find it for myself?