Outdoor Twink Boning
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Chapter 3: Silk and Swimming
Kris was at the low courts, dressed in a manner he deemed respectable for the intense heat, which was not as bad as it had been, but could still fry an egg on the pavement in the middle of the day. Kris knew this, he’d tried it yesterday. Needless to say, he has decided against eating it. Skin tight jeans and a loose summer leaf green shirt over a white singlet. He’d even brushed his hair. The young man at the reception front desk had sort of recognised him from some public speaking thing he’d done a little while back, and had been rather helpful. Oh so Kris had flirted quite openly with him to get the extra information, but it was worth it to see the confused light in the clerk’s eyes as he battled with his desires and his upbringing.
Men and women in smart suits, looking very hot despite the power of the air con and the innate coolness of the old stone building, moved around him with arms full of the minutiae of law, their clients waiting in polished leather seats while Kris sat in their midst at a large mahogany table more or less in the centre of the library. He too was searching through a ring binder, one of a matching set of five that rested in a stack beside him. It was not of city laws, but city lawyers. It was painstakingly slow, because there were such a huge volume of lawyers and Kris only had a face to help him. There were plenty of entries with no photos and next to Kris was a slowly growing list of all those photo-less with vaguely male names. Not knowing whether his Lion worked for a corporation or was freelance was another set back, because then at least he could have used the computer search. Page by page, because they were in alphabetical order, Kris was searching for a name.
“If you’re looking for a lawyer honey I can help you out.”
Kris turned to see the speaker, female, bleach blonde hair, straight skirt and white blouse. She was pretty, but in a very girly way. A secretary most likely, on a coffee break.
“Sorry, I’m after someone in particular.”
“And what would this someone look like?” The woman batted overly long eyelashes at him and he snickered silently in his head.
Flirt, he thought viciously.
“Oh, about six four, long gold hair, nice tan, built like a lion, hazel eyes. Know who I’m after?”
The secretary smiled and fiddled with a painted nail.
“I know just who you mean, I can give you his office address if you’d like, save you the trouble of looking.”
“Thanks,” Kris smiled his most beautiful smile and mentally switched on his charm offensive.
Ten minutes later he left the low courts with a business card for Bishop & Sarano which was apparently where his Lion, or at least someone fitting that description worked. He took the bus and had fun for twenty minutes or so until he had to get off, playing bold and coy with a rather pretty boy of about his own age a seat in front on the other side. Thankfully the boy didn’t follow him off the bus. That had happened a few times, and once it had worked out bad, with someone who wouldn’t leave him alone for days afterward.
Bishop and Sarano lived on the fourth floor of a small but rich looking office block containing a chartered account, a housing and letting agents and a Professor somebody Smith who did something with animals. The door off the stairway was imposing to say the least.
Bishop & Sarano
Private Freelance Law Representation
Enquire Within
Kris gulped, straightened his shirt and opened the door, which rung a pretty little bell and gave Kris the instant feeling that he was in some kind of expensive china shop. A young man of about twenty stuck his head out of the nearest door.
“Hello?” He smiled and beckoned Kris over, “Can I help you sir?”
Kris went to the doorway where the man was now standing and looked beyond him to a small office crammed with three big desks and computers and the rest. There was another man, in his late thirties and an older grey haired woman seated at each of the other desks.
“Are any of you Bishop or Sarano?”
He young man smiled and the woman chuckled kindly.
“Lord no dear, we’re just the staff.”
“I’m the office junior, that’s Madame Cherrington, she’s Mr. Sarano’s secretary, and that’s Jim, he belongs to Mr. Bishop. Who are you looking for?”
“I um…I dunno.” And Kris promptly gave up. His hand went to his forehead, so as to shield eyes that were suddenly damp with tears. It had been a stupid idea to try and hunt down his Lion. Maybe the woman at the low courts had lied to him, maybe Lion wasn’t really a lawyer. Kris should have known better. If his Lion didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be found.
“Dear, dear,” Madame Cherrington bustled over, “Paul, make him a cup of tea would you?” she took Kris’s unresisting arm and sat him in a chair.
“Now, who are you looking for young fellow?”
“A man I know. A woman at the low courts said he worked here, but I don’t know his name.”
Just then Paul, the office junior came back with a cup of tea, he was followed shortly by a smart older man, with thick light grey hair and a stern face.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a kind voice and the dispassionate set of his mouth was almost erased by the light in his grey eyes.
“This boy is search for someone Sir,” motioned Jim.
“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Kris looked up.
“Me neither.”
“Mr. Bishop,” Paul coughed, “Could it be Mr. Sarano he’s searching for?”
Bishop tilted his head and vanished, returning moments later with a small photo in a gilt bronze frame.
“This who you’re looking for?”
And Kris looked down into his Lion’s golden eyes.
One cup of tea later and Kris felt much better. He was walking to another bus stop. Mr. Sarano, his Lion, wasn’t in today, but Madame Cherrington said that he’d left word that he could be found at his club in case of emergencies. It was considered best to try for him there. His club was the illustrious Circle Azure. It was a men’s club, Kris had never been there, but he knew a fellow Rent Boy who had been taken there once by a rich client and was full of stories when he came out. The gym, the pool, the showers. The lounge and library and restaurant and the hotel rooms upstairs.
The bus journey there was far more dull, but Kris was bubbling with excitement at the thought of being able to see his Lion again. So distracted was he, he didn’t notice that a thick set ex client of his had followed him off the bus. The man, gaudy in Hawaiian shirt and shorts laid a hand of his shoulder.
“Chilito…”
Kris’s street name caught his ears and he spun around, on guard.
“You up for it? I got the cash.”
Kris sneered.
“Do I fucking lot like it?” he asked, keeping his voice low, “It’s the middle of the fucking day, go rent someone else.”
“But I like you.”
“Oh god,” Kris rolled his eyes, “I really don’t have to listen to this.” And he stormed off down the road and round the corner.
The Circle Azure was every bit as luxurious as it had been reported to be. Kris stood at the front desk, an ornate oak structure with curls and lion feet. The foyer was bigger than his apartment, tiled in white and black, with a vaulted ceiling which was mostly glass panels set in art deco swirls. It was like being under a dragonfly’s wing. Either side of the desk, marble stairs rose, and away to his right another stairway sunk out of sight, judging by the sweaty or damp look of those that emerged, downward lead to the pool and to the gym.
The man behind the desk used a large retro PA system to dial down to the lower floors, which was where Mr. Sarano was reported to be.
“Mr. Sarano has a man in reception,” his voice was provocative and Kris could imagine the laughter going on below, “Make that a boy.”
Five minutes later, having receiving winks from the receptionist, Kris turned to see a man coming up the stairs, with nothing but a white towel wound around his hips. Glinting with water, his hair wet and slung over one shoulder, it was his Lion. Kris smiled as recognition caught in his eyes.
“Tiger? What…? You found me? How?”
Kris smiled and went up to him with a sly look at the towel.
“I’ll tell you, but first, what’ve you got on under that towel?”
Mr. Erasmus Sarano. That was his Lion’s name. Kris had been cajoled into joining Lion for a swim, since the man hadn’t yet finished his routine. Kris didn’t take much persuasion, it was really hot and he liked swimming. The Lion bought him a pair of trunks from the little shop and he was left alone to put them on. They were blue, with a red stripe down the side. They were also bordering on non-existent. Kris loved them.
He left the changing rooms and emerged into the swimming pool. It was Olympic sized and they were three hot tubs as well. The décor was like that upstairs, art deco and richly overdone. It was however, slightly gloomy, a little like a dance club, with little illuminated pools of light all over the place. It was lovely. Chopin was playing out of speakers somewhere, all the lights were shaped like birds and butterflies.
He attracted a fair amount of attention, wolf whistles were aplenty and there were a couple of bulges that he was probably responsible for. Erasmus was waiting for him at the edge of the pool.
“Bit young for you Sarano!” someone called out.
“Yeah,” agreed another faceless voice, “Will you share him?”
Lion turned to look at his guest and grinned.
“Shall we?” He motioned to the pool but Kris was already ten steps ahead of him executing a dive any national swimmer would be proud of.
“I know your name.”
“You do indeed.”
“You know what this means?”
“No.”
“Now you’ll never be able to run away from me. I’ll hunt you down.” Kris was grinning like a child, his hair sticking up all over the place, his singlet slightly see through and clinging to his damp back. In one hand he carried a small sports bag containing his new trunks and a club towel. His over shirt was tied around his waist. Erasmus cursed it softly, obscuring the rear view he had been enjoying so much in the pool. Now they were walked down on of the main city boulevards, lined with expensive shops and rich eateries.
“You hungry?”
It was rapidly approaching dinner and rather than stay at the club they had decided to eat out. Erasmus was amazed that the boy had been able to track him down by description alone, and most definitely impressed. He had caused a surge at the club and Erasmus knew he was going to be harangued about it for at least a week. Not that he minded. He smiled to himself.
“I love that.” Kris said.
“What?”
“Your smile,” the boy said with one of his own. He fell back and slipped his slender hand into Erasmus’s own, “So, where’s the most expensive place to eat here?”
Thankfully for Erasmus’s wallet, they did not end up in the Four Seasons. Instead they ate at the Chateau Chat where he ate the steak and Kris helped himself to more side salad than he could fit in his bowl and a plateful of honey ribs. It was almost more than he could bear to watch the boy suck the juices off his fingers all evening. But the wine was good, it always was at French places. They finished off delicate cheesecakes with digestifs. Erasmus had brandy while Kris settled for a significantly rougher drink of Southern Comfort. They went back to Erasmus’s house.
Kris approached the front door with an air of palpable trepidation. The place was big.
“Lion, sorry, Erasmus? Is all this yours?”
Erasmus smiled to himself and unlocked the front door.
“Afraid so little Kitten. And you can call me whatever you like.”
The house was beautiful. Stylish yet minimalist in decoration, mostly white and blues with the odd patches of terracotta red. Kris dropped his bag and stood in the doorway to the lounge. Erasmus came up behind him, wrapping his arms around the boy who turned in his grip and tilted his face up to kiss him soundly and with fervour. He drew back.
“Lion?”
“Hmm?” Kris had lain his head against his companions chest and Erasmus could never remember feeling so content.
“Are you gonna be my boyfriend?” Kris looked up at him with wide sea-ice eyes.
His Lion smiled.
“Yes.”
Kris kissed him again, questing fingers running over his clothes, searching for the little buttons that held his shirt closed.
“One thing.” The boy looked expectantly up at him, “I need you to quit your job.”
Kris looked pained, but only for a moment. No other job would give him as much money, but no other job would cost him his social life, or his body.
“I already have,” And in essence it was true. He’d been with no one since the last time he’d taken Erasmus back to his house, and that was almost a fortnight ago, “Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes.”
Erasmus, flat on his back on his big white emperor bed was actually in heaven. Kris, lying next to him, wasn’t far from it. He knew he was putting his partner through torture and he was loving it. It wasn’t lack of skill, with his mouth wrapped around his lover’s hard on he could have made him come in minutes. He just wasn’t doing it, he intended to get enjoyment out of this. Erasmus groaned, one hand soft in the back of Kris’s hair. Kris loved the sounds he made, those moans, the half formed profanities, and his name. His name was soft in the Lion’s usually growling voice, soft like ashes in the rain. Finally he raised his head.
“Oh god! Don’t stop.” Erasmus pulled him up and kissed him roughly, his arousal hot and hard against Kris’s thigh. Kris giggled, slightly tipsy from the wine and the whiskey.
“Can’t make up your mind what you want?”
Erasmus growled.
“I know that I want you in less clothes.”
“Yes sir.” Kris straddled him and pulled the hem of his singlet up, twisting under the caress of the Lion’s hands, practically purring as he flung the shirt onto the floor. He lifted his hips and flicked open the button fly of his jeans. He’d declined to put his boxers back on after changing from his swim and Erasmus shuddered, his eyes trained on the soft elusive shadows that were revealed.
The Lion ran his hands over the boy’s torso, flicking at his nipples. Kris moaned and pushed his small hands down onto the man’s hips. He was pulled down abruptly and kissed with fervour and lust. Erasmus was getting impatient. Kris chuckled and slid off him, made more daring by the alcohol. He made the big man lie back as he got off the bed, sashaying around with his trousers almost but not quite falling off his slender hips. He danced an odd little dance, all flirtatious eyes and flicking wrists before he peeled himself with tantalizing slowness out of his trousers. That was it, Erasmus could stand no more teasing. With a growl he leapt at Kris, pushing him onto the bed, and falling on top of him. Kris kissed his shoulders and neck, his teeth a sharp ecstatic warning. He covered the little Tiger’s body with his own, his hands clutching the curve of a hip of the back of his neck.
“Want you…”
For Erasmus it was indeed the final straw. He got up off Kris and the boy moved to the head of the bed, kneeling, pressing his palms to the blessedly cool wooden head board. The Lion’s arms encircled him and he felt Erasmus’s body pressed up against his own. Kris was panting, unable to form the words he wanted. He just nodded, pressing himself back against the other. Erasmus slid into him smoothly, as unresisting as water to his penetration. The boy cried out, his forehead pressed to the headboard, Erasmus’s knees between his own. He was shaking and it was up to the golden tanned body of the lion to support him as he turned his head to the side. Erasmus kissed him, tasting the salt-sweet tang of tears on his cheeks. Kris turned his face up to the air con unit and let out a high gasp as his lover began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. Neither of them lasted long.
Kris came, spilling over into his Lion’s hand almost as the man behind him let out a deep groan, filling him as he spent himself. Erasmus panted, resting his chin on Kris’s shoulder as the boy slumped against the headboard. They both flopped on the bed and Kris cuddled up to the golden Lion’s side. He nuzzled him with a contented purr.
“Tiger?”
“Hmm?” Kris was sleepy already, his beautiful sea-ice eye sliding closed.
“I love you.”
“Mmm…”
Erasmus turned and wrapped himself around the boy, dragging the sheet across them. He smiled to himself, stroked Kris’s spiky copper air out of his face and let himself fall into oblivion.
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