SEVEN HITS! Get Your Ass Ready! (15 page)

Nick had one hand on the video camera, gazing at the flip screen as the lens watched Tyler. In the other hand, by his side, he clutched the length of rope he was about to use to tie up Tyler good and tight.

“You were jealous tonight,” Tyler whispered, looking at the camera lens and not at Nick’s shaded face. “You didn’t like all those men touching me.”

“I didn’t like you letting all those men touch you. I wanted to fucking punch the whole bar.”

“You want to punish me?” Tyler whispered, naked now, on his knees.

Nick’s nostrils flared. He was up off the bed like a shot. He put the camera down and quickly and efficiently tied Tyler’s hands up with the thick scratchy rope. That’ll leave a mark, Tyler thought, getting hard thinking about walking around tomorrow and seeing the shocked eyes as they traveled to his red, abraded wrists.

When he was firmly bound, Nick pushed him roughly onto the bed, knees on the floor and torso on the mattress, and put the camera on the edge of the bed. Nick turned it so the view was a close up of Tyler’s face, then spit on his fingers and shoved them up Tyler’s dry ass.

“Ah shit!” Tyler shouted. He
did
want to punish me! Nick spit some more, rubbed it on his cock, and jammed it into Tyler’s ass in one thrust. The camera watched impassively as Tyler grimaced and grit his teeth. Fuck, that hurt!

“Yeah,” Nick hissed. “I want to punish you.” He fucked him hard now, his cock never leaving Tyler’s asshole, too dry to slip in and out. He wrapped an arm around Tyler’s neck, and gave him a series of powerful strokes of his cock, then chewed on his earlobe, then slipped his tongue in and out of Tyler’s ear canal in a way that sent all Tyler’s attention up, above his waist, above his neck, to the delirious pleasure Nick was delivering so close to his brain, fogging out the ringing agony in his asshole.

“But the
only, way, to, punish, you,”
Nick said, each word punctuated by a stiff prostate pounding, “would be to fucking leave you here tied up and make you
watch, me
,
stroke it.”

“No, I want your cock, your cock, nobody else’s!”

Nick froze. He whispered in Tyler’s ear. “You mean that.”

“Yeah. Just you.”

“Fuck,” Nick said, and he couldn’t say if he was more shocked by Tyler’s words or the effect they had. He started coming, hard and fast, without moving a muscle other than the twitching of his dick deep inside Tyler. It went on and on and both of them were too astonished to move, to ruin it, feeling Nick’s hardon pulse like a baby kicking inside Tyler’s belly.

Finally Nick realized he wasn’t breathing. He took a breath, relaxed his grip on Tyler. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Tyler whispered. “I’ve never…”

“Me neither.”

They were silent, unmoving for a few minutes, deliriously calm. Finally Tyler spoke. “I’ll call Mark in the morning. Tell him I’m done.”

“What?”

“Doing porn. Doing other guys.”

Nick laughed. “I didn’t mean you should stop doing porn. I meant…you know.”

Tyler was puzzled but only for a second as he realized and burst out laughing himself. “I get it. If there’s a camera, that’s different. When men desire me, touch me, fuck me, and that eye is on me…your eye behind it…you like that.”

“Yeah,” Nick said throatily. “Is that a problem? You do porn, but I’m always the one behind the camera, every time. Or it’s no deal.”

“It’s a deal.”

“We need to get away,” Tyler said at breakfast the next morning. They were at a hot spot near South Park where Nick knew the owner, and they didn’t have to wait in the endless Saturday morning line for a table.

Nick looked up from the sports page. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve got this extra cash from the movies, and I haven’t been out of town since…I don’t remember!”

Nick frowned. “Me either. Shit.” Then his phone rang. “Hey, Mark,” he answered it.

Tyler looked up. Was it Mark Blackbeard, Pirate Island’s owner/impresario?

“Yeah, I’m free.” He grinned at Tyler. “Yeah, he is. Uh huh. Shit, yeah, that sounds great. Okay. Thanks.” He hung up.

“You wanna get out of town? Well, you’re getting your wish.”

Even on the plane with Nick and the other guys, Tyler could hardly believe it. They were going to the Caribbean! On Pirate Island’s dime! Turns out Mark had received an offer from the owner of a small gay resort, who was a huge PI fan.

Nick and Tyler were surprised Mark had said yes, actually – the studio didn’t do much of what Tyler thought of as “pool sex movies.” The PI set was pretty much a hotel/motel room, or a barely furnished apartment, or best of all, a dirty dimly lit basement or bar – not outdoor sex under blue skies and glaring sunlight.

“Three days!” Tyler marveled. “All expenses paid! This guy must
loooove our movies.”

“It’s free publicity for his resort, too, don’t forget. And we’ll be working.”

Tyler snorted. “Yeah, working.” Nick slapped him playfully on the arm.

A van picked them up at the airport and sped them up and away from the touristy bits of the island, to the other side.

“Wow,” Tyler said as they arrived. It was late in the day and they’d just missed the sunset, but the scattered clouds from the afternoon rain were lit up gray and orange and purple by the last rays.

The resort was a string of little white one-story buildings right on the beach, all facing open to the air and the sea. It reminded Tyler of a lot of the gay resorts in Palm Springs, where the real “front door” to your room was a sliding glass door that looked onto common areas…so you could leave your curtains wide open and anyone could see, and then join in, what was going on inside.

They gathered for dinner in the resort’s restaurant, where they’d been assigned their seats. Tyler looked around, nodding at the guys he’d come to know so intimately. Mitch Bradford was there, and Zack Black, and Jeff the Bottom (that was the name Tyler and Nick gave him, anyway), who’d originally given Tyler Mark’s card and told him to audition. The crew members were there, the director, everyone but, of course, the reclusive and mysterious Mark.

Nick and Tyler were seated with Ken, the beefy bear who was an ace editor. “I’m the guy who cuts out the
farts
and the drug sniffles,” he said, and Nick and Tyler laughed. Ken was a good dude, and Tyler had sucked him off in “60 Cocks,” and he knew the man was big all over.

The other guy at their table, who’d coolly introduced himself as Royce, didn’t laugh. In fact, he hardly seemed to be paying attention. Tyler took a good look at this new addition to the PI stable. “Coriander,” Royce said out of nowhere.

“Celery seed,” Nick corrected him. Ken and Tyler looked at the two of them, baffled.

Royce raised an eyebrow. “I think not.”

Nick shrugged. “It’s really good, whatever it is.” Finally Tyler realized they were talking, or arguing, about the food and how it was flavored. That was one of the many things Tyler loved about his boyfriend. Nick was least interested in arguing about things when he knew he was right.

“Where do you work?” Royce said. “I’ve seen you at Plates and Saucers.” Tyler knew what that was. He’d been to the city’s semi-secret cooks-only restaurant with Nick many a late night, after the city’s kitchens had closed and their employees’ evenings really began.

“I’m there a lot,” Nick acknowledged. “I’m waiting for a friend of mine to open his place, and I’ll be cooking there,” he said modestly, even though Tyler knew he’d be the head chef. “Right now I’m doing camera work for Mark.”

Royce looked at Tyler like a lizard looks at a fly. Tyler shifted uncomfortably; men’s desire for him was usually a turn on but this guy…

Royce was tall – very tall, at least six three, built, dark haired and dark eyed and well tanned, but much…glossier than Tyler liked his men. His conservative short hair was crisply parted and gelled, his resort wear was brand new and expensive. His shirt probably cost more than Nick’s whole wardrobe, Tyler thought. He smelled like he wore some kind of cologne, too, which Tyler thought was an awfully rude thing to put on just before sitting down at the dinner table with other people.

But something stirred in Tyler’s groin anyway. Royce was…bad. Bad inside. He wanted to throw Tyler down and get his sweater all dirty, Tyler could tell. He wouldn’t ask for permission if he thought he could get away with it. It scared Tyler, but he had to admit, there was something hot about it.

He looked at Nick, who was watching the two of them. “So what are you doing here?” Nick asked, and not kindly, seeing his interest in Tyler.

Royce broke off his intense gaze at Tyler. “I’m here to work in the movie.”

“You look like you might be more at home at, I don’t know, Falcon or Titan.” Tyler smiled; Nick had hit the target, he thought – Royce was definitely more “mainstream” looking than the usual PI star.

The corner of Royce’s mouth curled up. “I may look that way.”

“Will this be your first movie?” Nick asked, the challenge in his tone unmistakable.

“Yes,” Royce said smoothly. “I own my own business, I call my own shots. And I enjoy new experiences. I’ve never done a movie, and I keep hearing that I should, so, here I am.”

He looked at Tyler and suddenly it dawned on him – Royce was here to fuck
him
! It had clearly already dawned on Nick, who wasn’t happy. They finished their dinner with Tyler and Ken carrying the conversation, Nick and Royce like two predators circling each other warily.

Back in the room, Tyler took off his polo shirt, his concession to dressing up for dinner. It was time for them to make the rounds of the place and see what was up. “He’s an asshole, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “He is.”

“You know he’s here to fuck me, right?”

“He
thinks
he’s here to fuck you,” Nick scowled.

Tyler laughed. “Do we have a choice? I mean, other than going home?”

Nick pulled his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

The place was definitely not your typical resort. Tyler and Nick wandered the grounds, the warm tropical evening one reason that so many guys had left open the sliding glass doors to their rooms. The other reason, of course, was as an open invitation to join whatever was going on. They watched three guys taking turns hammering away at Peter, one of the new bottoms, fucking him so hard his head was knocking against the wall. But since pretty much the same thing was happening on the other side of the wall, there were no complaints from the next room.

Without even talking about it, Tyler knew what this night was about for him and Nick – watching, recording all the action with their inner cameras, lusting, but never acting on it, never breaking the voyeuristic spell.

Where all the family fucking friendly shit would be at another resort, this one had little outbuildings full of dark mazes, with dead ends where Nick and Tyler discovered guys going at it, and other guys watching, or joining in. The bathroom by the pool was a dark room with a trough, and Jeff the Bottom was on his knees in front of it, waiting for, begging for, piss.

“Yeah,” he whispered to Nick, who was rubbing his crotch with one hand, his other hand down the back of Tyler’s shorts. “Give it to me,” Jeff begged, to no avail.

Fuck it was hot, Tyler thought, watching Nick’s eyes on Jeff, watching him plead, Nick getting hard thinking about it…but keeping that bone for his own doggie, a bone that would only be thrown to Tyler tonight.

Tyler felt a man brush past him – well, press past him. A big, rock hard body and a hand that trailed ever so lightly across his hip. Royce.

Royce walked right up to Jeff, who didn’t even have time to beg before Royce pushed his crotch into Jeff’s face. The look of shock on his face told Tyler how big Royce’s cock was. It was only seconds before it was confirmed, when Royce pulled the string tie on his shorts and they fell around his ankles. God damn, that tree branch of a cock went perfectly with the tree trunks of Royce’s legs. Rugby player legs, Tyler thought. Built to thrust hard.

Nick was still for a moment, but the sight of Royce’s brutal attack on Jeff’s willing face was too much for him, and his distaste for Royce the person was temporarily obliterated by his admiration for Royce the fuck machine.

Jeff looked scared as Royce forced his huge tool down his throat and kept it there, his iron grip refusing to let Jeff choke and twitch off of it. He slapped Jeff, hard – really hard. “Fucking suck that cock, faggot.” Royce’s voice was low and deep and full of menace, and Tyler got an instant boner.

Jeff had no choice. He bobbed his head up and down as much as he could with Royce’s huge hands wrapped around his skull. Royce closed his eyes and
pistoned
in and out of Jeff’s gullet, his huge tight ass clenching with each thrust. Tyler looked at Nick, who looked back…they both disliked Royce, but this…fuck!

Royce threw Jeff down on the concrete floor and pissed all over him, his boner no obstacle to a raging stream. Jeff gasped for breath, choking but not caring as he opened his mouth to catch the hot liquid.

Royce finished off and with one foot kicked Jeff over onto his stomach. In one swift motion, he was down on top of him and his cock was spearing his asshole.

Jeff shouted, screamed, the battering ram splitting him open with no lube other than the last drips of piss from Royce’s cock. Royce pushed his face down into the dirty floor. “Shut the fuck up.”

He pounded Jeff with no hesitation, not even a moment for Jeff to get used to the size of Royce inside his ass. “Oh god, oh god,” Jeff cried out until Royce put a hand over his mouth to silence him, working harder and faster now, his sole goal to hurt Jeff and come as fast as he could.

It was his face that scared Tyler – there was no pleasure on it, just a ruthless efficiency, a grim determination. “Fuck,” Royce finally said, as he blew his load inside Jeff. “Fucker.” He fucked him even harder now, as if trying to force every last drop of juice out of his body and into Jeff’s ass.