Let me start by apologizing that I have taken so long to continue this story. Actually, I don't think many people have read it anyway because I only received two e-mails responding to it.
By accident, Anton read my first chapter of "The Stealth Sucker" and told me I told one half-truth.
I told you Bernie and Anton slept together every night. What he was bitching about was that I didn't tell you that there is generally another person in the bed with them. It's either Allen Boyd or me; Allen is Bernie's private tutor. Bernie, ever since Anton picked him up on the streets of Hollywood, seems a little insecure. He sure needs a lot of loving. And, he sure gets a lot of it.
For that matter, despite all his wealth and all the sex he gets, Anton is a little insecure, too. Anton and I are together about as much as if we were glued together. Both of us are jealous of the other and being together helps us keep that under control, whether we sharing a cock or some woman is trying to put the make on me, which happens occasionally when we're out shopping together.
Now, on with the story.
MARCH
Spring awakens in most people the desire to be outside and engage in warm weather activates that winter denied them. This is especially true in the Sierras, where the deep snowfall was so inhibiting except at the ski resorts. Visiting a ski resort though is far different than living in the Sierras.
March honed those desires of everyone in the compound to an even greater sharpness; maybe it was because the area was still covered with snow. Everyone had a bad case of cabin fever and was wishing they could get away but no one wanted to squander their vacation time so early in the year.
Anton could not have made everyone happier when he issued a memo that the compound would be closed down for two weeks and everyone would be given a two weeks, paid vacation to a location of their choosing, in addition to their regular vacation.
The memo explained that the skeletal crew remaining behind would be paid a $2,000 bonus in addition to their regular salary plus a four-week, paid vacation to anyplace of their choosing later in the year.
To his bodyguards, Bernie's tutor, and Bernie, Anton explained they would accompany him and me on the vacation. The operation required the release of all prisoners, whether their three weeks retention was over or not.
MEXICO
Anton had been making plans long before he issued his memo. He had obtained a brochure on Mexico from a travel agency in Reno one time when he'd gone there to get a haircut. Everyone going had passports.
We were going to Cancun via Sun Trips and their airline which was obviously owned by various hotel resorts in Mexico. One bodyguard, Bernie's tutor and I were to leave from Denver and, on the same day, the other bodyguard, Anton and Bernie would leave from Oakland, all arriving the same day; both flights were non-stop. Anton felt this better than all of us flying together; too, he reserved adjacent suites with balconies facing the Gulf of Mexico and confirmed Internet access was available from the rooms. The name of the hotel was RIU Cancun.
He had long ago obtained a Photostat birth certificate for Bernie, had the forgers change the father's name to his and a Photostat made of the Photostat; he also had a letter from the local Congressman stating Anton was a personal friend of his and requesting all assistance as necessary be granted to Anton in Mexico. The Congressman for our Congressional District as well as many other Congressmen and Senators, all received massive financial contributions by Anton during elections.
Looking at the brochure, Cancun looked similar to Waikiki Beach in Honolulu, Miami Beach and other resorts. Anton had chosen it simply because he had never been there and thought the weather would be warm but not hot this time of year.
The first thing Anton did when we were in our room was to ask one of the bodyguards to take Bernie and his tutor, Allen, to the beach.
The two of us alone in the room, Anton began to slowly undress me, saying, "I can't wait, Christian, there is nothing in the world like your big, warm, erected cock. I've wanted it ever since you left for Denver." (See why I never worried about there being a next time.)
He was more relaxed than usual. He sat in a chair and had me stand before him, legs spread wide apart and his head entered my crotch area from below. It began with his eager tongue bathing first my balls and then my cock shaft before he wrapped his lips around my cockhead and hooked them around the rim. He held my cockhead in his mouth for a while and then popped it out. I knew I was in for a deliciously long session of getting my cock sucked by a white man hungry to suck on a big, black, Jamaican cock; a cock to which he had made passionate, sexual love many times before. When he again took my cock into his warm, wet mouth, I gently placed one hand on each side of his head, closed my eyes and let him work his magic in bringing me to a beautiful, yet intense, climax. I knew I was going to shoot volumes. I knew I'd do so easily and I prayed that Anton would be sated at least until I could manage another erection.
We went out to the huge pool by the beach and found Bernie and Allen sitting in lounge chairs. Allen, laughing, told Anton he was going to have to look out. Bernie was becoming a talented flirt with men. Several boy lovers had come over to talk to him, sat on the leg rest end of his lounge chair, chatted and scoped out the other's cocks as they occasionally rubbed their own package while they chatted.
All meals at the hotel were included in the room rates, somewhat like a cruise liner, but Anon had the concierge make reservations for us at one of the better, local restaurants. After drinks before, during and after dinner, no one was feeling any pain by the time a taxi dumped us at the hotel entrance and we were back in our rooms.
Allen asked if Bernie could sleep with him in his room, which left Anton and me alone again. We were in bed briefly before Anton ducked his head under the covers and again engulfed my manhood into his insatiable, cock loving mouth. He became so horned up that he threw the covers off, and started going down on me as deep as he could manage and then withdrawing completely. He soon had my cock so wet and slippery that even the sounds of sucking cock became erotic. Then he'd stop and masturbate me; then engulf my cock into his mouth again. It was a cycle that he repeated until I shot my load into the air while he was jerking me off. He immediately worked himself atop me until he covered my sticky body with his and kissed me.
Exhausted, we put on white, terry robes and went out onto the balcony. He hadn't cum yet and he was erected but took a Viagra tablet anyway. I knew the evening would not be over until he fucked me, probably like I'd never been fucked before.
I was right. I got fucked, like there was no tomorrow. We didn't wake up until it was almost noon. However I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a piss around 8:30 in the morning. When I returned, I snuggled my back up to Anton's stomach. He immediately reached around and slowly masturbated me, saying, "God, I wish I had that cock between my legs!"
I knew my big black cock was going to get lot of tender, loving, care before this vacation was over. The first full day at the hotel, everyone was pooped, so it was a quite day for all of us, lounge chairs, getting a tan, scoping out the men, mostly married dudes, of course, that sort of thing.
THE REAL REASON WE CAME TO MEXICO
The following day, Anton called the concierge and had him arrange for a basket lunch and a six-pack of Mexican beer to be packed for us.
We asked directions and wandered down the beach until we found a spot that was half-way secluded and semi-private. Then, Anton opened up and told me about all the things that have been worrying him, the chief reason for his wanting to take a vacation.
"Christian I need to have a long talk with you, the kind of talk where you and I bat ideas back and forth to each other, discussing, discarding and hopefully coming up with others. You're not only my companion, you're my best friend and the best friend any man could ever have. I know there is nothing I can't say to you and feel uncomfortable with having said it. I know you feel the same way about that."
"You can rest easy on that score, Anton. I have halfway guessed something is bothering you."
"I don't really know how or where to begin, so I'll just start off somewhere and ultimately we'll get on track. Fact: you know I'm a cocksucker and there's no known cure for that. Fact: If there were a cure, I wouldn't want to take it. I'm too fixated on men's genitals and making them cum."
"But, I want to get another source. These abductions we're doing now is dangerous and totally unfair to the men we kidnap, despite the compensations we give them."
"I'm also tired of the confinement and cold weather that we have to endure, which entered into my choice of Cancun."
"On the other side of the coin, you know it has been unavoidable that I have made many enemies, most of which I am unaware of, because I do try to treat all of my business associates and employees fairly. So, some degree of being anonymous and some security is and will always be necessary."
"Why don't you respond now, even if it's with a question?"
"Well, Anton, I understand the points you've made. The abduction problem has worried me, too. Sooner or later, some one is going to squeal and cause trouble for us. That said, what are you going to do with the hideaway? I assume you're not reducing your business holdings. Do you have any ideas about how to supply your needs in a less dangerous way? Lets keep talking and maybe I can come up with ideas on that subject, too."
"As to the hideaway, it is totally without value on the real estate market. I would gladly give it away and remodel it to the new occupants specifications. I've been thinking of approaching the Catholics about using it as a retreat house or monastery or maybe to be used as a mother house for some order of nuns."
"As to your question of my business connections, I have no plans for divesting myself of any of them. I'm not retiring."
"About new ideas of obtaining men, I was hoping you'd have some suggestions. The only thing I can think of is relocating to a metropolitan area in a warm climate and arranging for five male escorts every day or placing some discreet advertisements in gay publications."
I responded, "You said we're just batting thing back and forth for a while, so off the top of my head here are a couple of suggestions:
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I've seen Internet Sites where men describe themselves or post pictures, wanting to hook up. Some of them are from Europe, Australia and South America, even. I'm sure they'd go for an all expense paid vacation to the States.
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What about the idea of starting a men's travel club? There are such things as gay cruises already.
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It's far out, but how about buying a small college and offering free tuition and living expenses for gay youth.
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My last idea is going back to Jamaica or going to some of the southern states to pick up more personal companions. You seem to like black cock, especially large black cocks and you only find them on black men. I'm sure there are Jamaicans and southerners who would love to be supported in the fashion and paid the generous amount you lavish on me in return for getting their big meat serviced by a cocksucer. I'm thinking both gay and straight men would welcome the chance. As a matter of fact, I think you could find picture and phone numbers of qualified candidates on Web Sites for Male Escorts."
"You've made a good start, Christian. I know we can't decide right here and now but lets keep those ideas in mind and get back to them tomorrow or the next day. My second problem is that I'm getting worried about Bernie, what I'm doing to him, what I molding him into. Is it all fair?"
I almost laughed but responded as honestly as I could. "Anton, I think that is a needless worry. Bernie was selling his body on the streets in Hollywood when you met him. I think you rescued him more than you led him astray. He was gay when you found him. You didn't make him that way. Similar to what you said earlier, you can't make someone gay who doesn't want to be gay. You can't unmake someone who wants to be gay. Too, you've haven't been too perceptive of the relationship developing between Bernie and his tutor."
By the end of the vacation Anton still hadn't reached a decision on which direction to go, so we loosened up a bit and enjoyed our vacation. The next morning Bernie wanted me to take him walking down along the beach. He was tiring of the pool. So accompanied by one of the bodyguards, we started out.
Allen Boyd used Bernie's absence to go to Anton's room and thank him for the early spring vacation and told him how he was enjoying it. Anton asked him if a relationship was growing between him and Bernie. Allen, being truthful or not, said they had become good friends and had occasional sexual contacts, nothing that Anton should be alarmed about. They were of the frequency that could be expected between a gay man and a gay, teenage boy in close, daily contact with each other and he didn't think either one of them was ready for a love affair if that was what Anton was worried about.
Allen continued that he'd have no qualms about having sex with Anton. He wouldn't feel he was cheating on Bernie and he knew the feeling would be mutual with Bernie. Anton knew he'd just been offered a cock and he'd never refused a cock in his life. Anton told me they ended up in bed in a 69 position, a slight breeze blowing into the room off the Gulf of Mexico and sucked each other. Allen, according to Anton, had an uncut, six-inch cock that was on the fat side and he approached the sex act with a lot of gusto and enjoyment. Anton loved it. Allen had just cemented his tutoring contract even more solidly that it already was.
Every time we left the hotel, there were a string of taxis and other vehicles with a placard reading "Tours" on the window. We ignored them until one morning Anton and I were approached by a man who spoke excellent English said he new of a lot of remote beach locations if we'd like to get away for the crowds for a day. We went back got our swimsuits and towels and got into his car. His name was Joe. He said not to worry about lunch; we could stop at a restaurant. He then asked if we minded if he took his son along. Anton asked his age and Joe responded 18.
Anton said, "Sounds fine."
Joe was a Mexican-American from Los Angeles; he'd met and married a girl from Mexico during a vacation, one time. The son, Chuck, a truly handsome young man was born in Los Angeles, gone to school there and came back to Mexico when Joe's mother-in-law developed cancer and his wife wanted to move back to take care of her.
Chuck wanted badly to move back to the states and I think, all along, it had been Joe's motive to get us to take him back with us.
After a fairly long ride, we stopped at a restaurant, had Mexican Food and picked up a carton of cervesa, Mexican for beer, and went to what turned out to be a great beach area.
It was obvious that Anton had hot nuts for Chuck and asked him if he wanted to walk along the beach for a while. I didn't offer to go with them and Joe didn't either. I think Joe recognized the situation.
Anton related what happened afterwards. All I know is that Chuck and he came back, walking hand in hand. I guess Chuck made the initial overture by kissing Anton and the two of them, still standing pulled down the other's bikini suits.
Anton told me the kid must have been starved for sex and his teen cock turned out to be a fountain of cum. Anton had him three times while they were gone. He did come back to the states with us. He had a valid passport, so it was easy. Joe was happy for his son. Anton was glad to have him. I was just happy about the whole situation.
LOS ANGELES
It took several months to clear up things up, once we were back home. Some staff was kept and some were dismissed with a termination bonus like none of them could have expected. Negotiations with the Catholic Church over the property were still in progress, but we moved into the house Anton had bought, a huge estate that accessed the beach beyond Malibu, an area inhabited by the famous and the wealth. Anton elected to stay wealthy and shun the famous designation. It was secure, as were all of the properties in the area, not as large as the hideaway had been but it was more than adequate and luxurious beyond imagination. Bernie and Chuck loved it and spent a lot of time together down at the beach.
It was Chuck, too, who came up with the best solution that Anton had offered to him. As a consequence, we went looking for just the right place and found it on Santa Monica Boulevard, a bar and a men's steam bath, which actually had no bath, but everything else. Anton purchased both buildings and bought out both businesses. The bath was called the "Cage" and was adjacent to the bar. Anton changed the name of the baths to "The Bunkhouse" and the name of the bar to "The Corral".
It was September until both properties were renovated. The exteriors were sandblasted and the interiors were gutted. Finished, the bar had an old- time saloon atmosphere except for two pool tables and new, tiled toilet facilities. It was against the law but there was a key card operated lock from the bathroom into a janitor's closet and from the janitor's closet into the Bunkhouse. The bartenders at the Corral could accept applications for the Bunkhouse and pass them though a mail slot between the back of the bar and the office in the Bunkhouse.
The "Bunkhouse" when finished had an aisle, bordered on each side by cages, like the original "Cage". Men who wanted their cocks sucked when into a cage and stuck their cocks through the bars and into the aisle; sometimes two and occasionally three crowded into one cage on a busy night. Then, there were small rooms with double deck bunks where guys laid down if they wanted fucked. Of course there were was a steam room, showers, toilet facilities, a room filled with exercise equipment and two masseurs, whose services were free. The office opened into the vestibule from the street as well as from the aisle to where men entered if they'd came from the Corral. Except for the office, the lighting was as minimal as it could be and still meet building code requirements.
Because we spent so much time in Los Angeles, Anton also rented a large apartment on a side street, just off Santa Monica, not far from the bar and bath.
Also, either Anton or I reviewed all the applicants as soon as they submitted an application. If they stated they had an 8-inch cock or bigger, they were given fifty-dollars to take it out, jack it to an erect stage and we confirmed it with a tape measure. It's amazing how many guys tell a little white lie about how big they are, or they don't know how to measure a cock. If, indeed, they did have 8-inches or more they were told their membership was free, plus when they visited the bath and wanted to make two hundred dollars they could do so by asking one of the attendants at the office counter if they could see Anton. Of course, Anton liked the big ones. As a matter of fact, all of the employees, from the office personnel, bartenders, through the cleaning personnel and the guys who laundered the towels at a separate facility owned by Anton all had big ones as a prerequisite of employment. The big ones included two of the bartenders who were straight but still liked their cocks sucked, or at least liked it enough that they'd do it for two hundred dollars.
As I told you before, I never worry about Anton's needing me and I still don't. But, I am so happy for him now. He is sucking more cock than he ever has in his life. He often sucks off the guys in the cages and fucks the guys in the bunks in addition to his private collection of big ones screened from their applications, interviewed and measured. The best part though, is it's all hot, young stuff and you've got to admit that's just about the best there is. The variety is amazing too. With all the men in the world, there's not two of them that look exactly alike and neither is there two of them that have cocks that are exactly alike. That certainly keeps a cocksucker's life from being boring.
Another thing I never worried about was the new venture getting too expensive. Hell, Anton could afford anything he fancied. But, to my amazement, it turned out to be a moneymaker. The Corral's drinks were a mere fraction of what other bars charged, the membership to the Bunkhouse was far less than other Los Angeles baths. But once we got the places opened and operating they became, just through word of mouth advertising, the most popular places in Los Angeles for gays. Guys came from the San Fernando Valley, from what is known as the South Bay Area and Long Beach and from as far east as San Bernardino.
A lot of like establishments had their two busy nights a week, Fridays and Saturdays. The Bunkhouse and the Corral were busy every night plus a rush of guys during the noon hour. As soon as we recognized this noon hour business, we made it so they could pop out the card-reading door into the Corral and pick up a free sandwich, a bag of potato chips, a soft drink or coffee to consume in the car on the way back to their place of work.
Another development we hadn't anticipated was guys on the select, interviewed list dropping by during the day, sometimes even at the apartment to get an oil change.
Anton was appreciative of all the young guys. He hosted four huge garden parties every year at the Malibu estate for the patrons. They were all day affairs and extremely popular. Weather permitting ocean swimming attracted a lot of guy. When the weather wasn't so great, the heated pool got a workout. A lot of the guys stripped at the beginning and never put their clothes on their entire stay, which made things exciting and also caused a lot of sex to take place in the house and on the grounds.
Much more important, though, he opened medical facilities for gays in Los Angeles, the San Fernando Valley, the South Beach Area, Long Beach and San Bernardino. They were free to all gays who applied, even though they weren't patrons of either the Bunkhouse of Corral. The facilities included long term care for those who were in the last stages of Aids.
Somehow, though it all, Anton managed to remain as anonymous as if he were a shoe clerk in a sporting goods store. I really do love the guy and feel blessed that he loves me.
Well, I'll let you guys go. Hope you enjoyed.