Cherbourg Boy

by Henri Couesnon

  “Come on, will you?” Luc’s companion demanded. “What the hell are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?” He pressed Luc’s laggard fingers against his zipper. Luc pulled it down and plunged his fingers into the now-open fly. He had to pull aside the man’s undershorts in order to grasp his hard-on and lift it up and out of the gap in his trousers. The stiff penis was warm as it pulsed eagerly in the hollow of his hand, and Luc closed his fingers in a tight fist around the swollen shaft and he began to move his hand up and down on it. His john grunted, happily.

  “Yeah—! Fuck, yeah! That’s it, punk,” he gasped, his voice low and hoarse as he encourage Luc, whose hand movements became bolder, more efficient. Luc fisted the guy’s prick with all his strength, to get the sex act over with quickly and collect his twenty euros. Afterward, he hoped, they might go to one of the many cheap hotels in the neighborhood, or back to the guy’s place, and he would pay Luc to let him suck Luc’s cock, or for Luc to fuck him. Luc was well on his way to becoming another one of the seaport’s many male prostitutes.

  The man began to surround Luc’s masturbating hand with his own hand while he watched the live sex act continue. Pressing Luc’s fist tighter shut around his dick and pushing his erection up to meet the boy’s pumping fingers and increase their friction, he whispered, fiercely, “Squeeze it, stud.” He panted for breath while he watched the guy on the stage getting fucked. “Squeeze it real hard. Make me come!”

  Luc did his best to please him. From the loudspeakers, the music blared on monotonously. Luc looked up at the stage while he jerked his neighbor, and he saw the two naked men twisting and humping their bodies as they screwed. The guy whom Luc was beating off was watching them fuck, too, his gaze intent, as though he was hypnotized. When Luc manipulated him even more roughly, though, he closed his eyes and he moaned loudly, letting his head slump back against his seat.

  “Faster—do it faster!” he gasped.

  What do you think I am, a machine? Luc wanted to ask. His wrist was getting tired, but he stoically tried to speed up its movements. The man muttered obscenities and he gasped, not caring whether anyone else in the tiny auditorium heard him or not. He was approaching his climax at last. He seemed to have forgotten Luc’s presence beside him, as though it was a disembodied fist and arm which were working so industriously on his prick.

  Even as his hips lunged up from the creaking seat cushion and he shot his sperm into the air, he gave no sign of acknowledgment to the boy who was bringing him off. He was lost in some erotic fantasy which didn’t include Luc—who released the dripping prick hastily, grabbed his pocket handkerchief, and used it to wipe off the traces of sticky cum from his fingers, with a grimace of disgust.

  At the same time, appropriately enough, the guy onstage who was doing the fucking broke his silence.

  “I’m coming!” he declared. “Shit, yes, bitch! I’m going to breed your ass. Take it—take all of my goddamn cum in your hole!” He pulled out of his partner’s ass and he delivered a porn video style cum shot, spraying his semen onto the other man’s body. When he was done ejaculating, he shoved his slimy prick back inside the other’s guy’s well-fucked hole, which he continued to ravage. No one in the audience applauded, but perhaps that was because so many hands were still busy.

  Luc wanted to ask for the money now, but he didn’t want to risk offending his john by being too pushy. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, the man sat up, tucked his spent dick back inside his pants, and he zipped up. He began to watch the live sex act again, as though nothing had happened. Suddenly, he seemed to remember Luc.

  “I have to get a big bill changed by the bartender so I can give you your money,” he whispered. “You wait here. Enjoy the show. I’ll be right back.”

  He squeezed past Luc, into the narrow aisle. Luc turned his head to watch him go, but the way the men seated in the vicinity suddenly took their eyes off the stage to stare at him, hopefully, or simply to leer at him, made him feel uncomfortable. He watched the next act begin.

  There was a different pair of guys on the mattress now, older, in their thirties, and decidedly rougher looking. One of them was kissing and tonguing his partner’s hard-on as a prelude to going down on it. Soon, though, he began to suck the cock. Within a few moments, he was industriously deep-throating the other man’s big dick, and the recipient of the oral attention seemed pleased by the blow job he was being given.

  How much money are these guys being paid? Luc wondered. The strippers probably work just for tips, and they don’t get a salary at all. I wonder how much they make on a good night? That bouncer out front thought I was a stripper, at first. I’m as good looking as any of the guys I’ve seen dance in here so far, and I’m got just as good a body. I could strip.

  I don’t know about this sex performance shit, though. I don’t see any of the customers tipping these guys. Do they get a token salary from the club, or are they just freaking exhibitionists who get off on doing it in front of an audience, so they’re willing to do it for free?

  I’ll have to find out. Either way, maybe I should apply for a job here.

  This daydreaming kept Luc’s mind occupied while he waited. But the minutes passed, and his john didn’t return. Another man now abandoned his seat in one of the back rows, and he came forward. He selected a new seat on the aisle, just a few seats away from where Luc was sitting. The newcomer glanced at Luc, but Luc didn’t turn his head to return his gaze.

  Luc wished that the first guy, the drunken dude in the suit, would come back with his money. Maybe he was having another drink at the bar, or he’d gone to the men’s room to piss. Luc tried not to notice the unsubtle ways in which the newcomer was now trying to get his attention, while they both kept up the pretense of being engrossed in the action onstage.

  Not that the two current performers were shirking. The one who’d been doing the sucking had moved on to rimming his partner. When he was satisfied that he’d wet the guy’s sphincter sufficiently with his saliva, and scorning the nearby bottle of artificial lube, he proceeded to fuck him.

  The possibility that his john might not come back at all hit Luc with a shocking abruptness and force. The man had wanted more from Luc that just a hand job, surely? He wanted to go to bed with Luc. Christ, he wouldn’t just leave the club and walk off, would he? He couldn’t, the son of a bitch! What a fool Luc had been to let the dude get out of his sight, even for a moment!

  “Hey,” Luc’s new neighbor whispered, barely audibly above the heavy breathing and the groans coming not only from the two men on the stage, but from the onlookers.

  Luc gave him a quick, casual glance. He was fortyish, bland-looking, a bit shabbily dressed. At least he was sober. He had exposed himself, and like many of the other men in the room he was playing with his cock—an impressively large cock, uncut and fully erect. He grinned at Luc, insolently, while he worked on himself with his fast-moving fist. Nervously, Luc looked away.

  But his discomfiture had given the exhibitionist all the further encouragement he needed. He slid over the few seats that separated them, and he sat beside Luc, still exposed, still fisting his dick. How gross! Luc thought. Disgusting! Lousy pervert! Ugh! Luc wanted to get up and leave the room, but he forced himself to remain calm, until he could assess the situation and determine just how it might play out—possibly, to his advantage.

  “Hey, good looking—are you here just to see the show, or are you looking for a little action yourself? Wouldn’t you like to give this a quick suck, huh?” Luc’s admirer asked him, feverishly. “I’ll suck yours, too! We can do it here, but I like a little privacy. I know a cheap fleabag hotel we could go to, it’s only two blocks away from here. Go there with me, and I’ll give you a really good suck. That’ll be more fun than just watching this shit.” He indicated the two men who were fucking on the stage, gesturing toward them with his unoccupied hand.

  Luc stood up. “Fuck off,” he told the guy. “I’ve got to, ah, go meet somebody.”

  The man gra
bbed his arm. “Come on! Let your date wait.”

  “I said I have to go,” Luc hissed, wrenching himself free. “Let go of me, or I’ll punch your fucking face in for you.”

  “No need to get rough. I know some guys like that, but not me.” Then the man spoke the magic words. “I’ll make it worth your while, tough guy. I’ll give you thirty euros for a good blow job. Forty, for a fuck!”

  Luc thought fast, while he looked the man coldly in the eyes—and the man leered back, smugly, confidently, and knowingly, at him. That first dirty, horny bastard wasn’t coming back—ever. Luc realized that now. He’d been taken! Ripped off! He’d given that son of a bitch the hand job for nothing. He had to get some money somehow—and fast. He couldn’t afford to start getting choosey now.

  “I get fifty, minimum, no matter what we do,” Luc told the man, feeling more sure of himself. “And I want it up front, cash in hand, before we start in.”

  “Sure, handsome. Whatever you say.”

  “Let’s go, then. I want to get the hell out of here.”

  Chapter Four: By the Hour

  “What’s your name, boy?” the man asked, as he and Luc left the strip club and walked along the street, which was still busy with both vehicular and pedestrian traffic, even this late at night.

  “Luc.”

  “Is that your real name?”

  “Of course.” Why would I lie about it? Luc asked himself.

  “Well, you can call me Pierre,” the man said, his wry facial expression and tone of voice leaving little doubt that Pierre wasn’t his real name.

  Luc tried to act sophisticated, even blasé, as he followed his trick into the lobby of a sleazy-looking hotel. Inside, the place positively reeked of illicit activities, especially sexual ones. Despite the seedy atmosphere, which suggested that the management was on the easy-going, tolerant side, the burly, tough looking young guy behind the front desk looked first at the older man, and then at Luc, in a hard and inquisitive manner. It was as though he knew exactly what they’d come there for—namely, a sordid commercial transaction. The clerk had rather shaggy hair, badly in need of a trim, and a thick mustache. He looked capable of handling the rougher customers who were no doubt among those who patronized this establishment.

  Luc forced a smile. He hoped the desk clerk wouldn’t ask too many questions, but if he did, Luc decided he’d let his companion do the talking.

  “We want a room,” Luc’s john said, matter-of-factly.

  Luc, feeling bolder, continued to smile in a bland way at the muscular young desk clerk, who didn’t seem too impressed, either by Luc’s companion or by Luc himself.

  “I’m sure you do,” the clerk replied. “Fifty euros, for the night.”

  “What sort of a palace do you think you’re running here?” the guy with Luc scoffed. “We only want it for an hour.”

  The clerk grunted. “That’ll be twenty euros, then.” Now he was scrutinizing Luc’s body, rather critically, as he threw down a key on the countertop. “Room Number Nine, fourth floor.”

  “Twenty euros!” the john exclaimed. “What kind of a fucking rip-off joint is this, anyway? Look—we’re only going to be up there a little while, and you damn well know it. It was only fifteen euros for an hour, the last time I was here.”

  The clerk shrugged. “Costs keep going up everywhere, all the time.” He gestured toward Luc, insultingly. “You can afford him, can’t you, big spender? Well, then you can afford the room. Unless you want to suck him off over there in the phone booth—and even then, I’d have to charge you, at least for making a local call!” He laughed uproariously at his own idiotic joke. Luc wished he had something to throw at the guy.

  The john, looking disgusted but resigned, tossed the money on the countertop and picked up the key.

  “Want us to register?” he asked.

  “Don’t bother,” the clerk said. “That keeps things simple.”

  “Yeah,” the man who called himself Pierre agreed, cynically. “Come on, kid. The clock’s ticking.” He led Luc toward the elevator. “Aw, what the fuck,” was the john’s philosophical comment to Luc, as he pushed the button to call the elevator. “Everybody’s got to hustle for money one way or another, right, kid?”

  Luc agreed. “Oui, sans aucun doute.”

  They got into the elevator car. Even before the door closed, the man grabbed Luc’s ass, pulling him close against him. The car began to go up, slowly, its mechanism creaking somewhat ominously. The man cupped the boy’s buttocks and began to stroke them with his hands. He kissed Luc, who didn’t resist, kissing him back casually, and not pulling back or otherwise objecting when the man slipped him his tongue.

  “Oh, yeah! You’re one hell of a hot number, do you know that? Nice and fresh, too. Almost wholesome looking. Not as hard looking as some of the young guys I pick up. You can always tell when a hustler’s got a lot of mileage racked up on him,” the man said, as his hands explored Luc’s body through his clothes. “The minute I saw you walk into that dive with that drunken asshole you were with, I told myself, ‘that lucky stiff over there has found himself a real bargain.’ I couldn’t believe it when he walked out on you like that, after just a hand job. Fuck! Look at you. You’re ten times better looking than any of those guys who strip in that joint.”

  “Thanks,” Luc muttered, in response to the compliment.

  “Those guys who dance are all whores, too, you know. They’ll meet up with a guy outside the club, for money. But they’re too damn full of themselves. Too pricey. And they act as though they’re doing a guy a favor by taking his money. As for the live sex performers—they’ll do anything for money, but they’re dirty trash. I bet you suck and fuck better than all of them put together.”

  “I’m sure I do,” Luc bragged. “And you’ll soon find that out for yourself.”

  “Yeah, can’t wait.” Pierre went on talking, cheerfully, as the elevator jolted to a stop and they got off. Going down the dimly-lit hall, they found their room. “I said to myself right away, ‘look at that son of a bitch, getting his rocks off with that young stud.’ I tell you, boy, I took one look at you and my prick got so hard it really started to ache. I’m not kidding—” They were inside the small, cheaply furnished, and thoroughly depressing room. The man bolted the door behind them. “How about putting on a show for me, now? Why don’t you strip down and give me a good look at the merchandise, kid?”

  “The money,” Luc said, firmly. He wasn’t going to be cheated again! “You said I could have it ahead of time.”

  “Oh, sure, we might as well get that out of the way, right?”

  Luc was relieved by this immediate compliance. Pierre took a fifty-euro note from his wallet and handed it over. Luc shoved the folded cash into the pocket of his jeans. Thank God! he thought. Some money, at last! Now he’d be able to afford a room for the night, somewhere. It might not be any better than this dump, but it’d be a safe place in which to sleep, as opposed to spending the night outdoors, like some poor homeless bum. Luc was so grateful that he’d be willing to give this guy Pierre the fuck of his life, now.

  “And maybe there’ll be a nice little tip in it for you, too, on top of that fifty, if you show me a really good time,” Pierre said. He was touching Luc’s hips, caressing his crotch. His restless hands moved around to grope Luc’s ass, and next they traveled upward over his torso, rubbing Luc’s firm pecs and nipples through the thin fabric of his tank top. “I don’t like a stuck-up whore. I like the kind of guy who can really get into it, you know?”

  “That’s me,” Luc assured him.

  “Hot body—!” Pierre took hold of Luc’s shoulders, kneaded them, and then ran his hands down his back. Once again, he felt Luc’s ass through the seat of his jeans, but then he returned his attention to Luc’s pecs. “That’s such a nice fucking chest you’ve got there, baby. And believe me, I know a good chest when I see and feel one. You might say I’m kind of a chest man. That’s the part of a man’s body which really turns me on, even mo
re than his dick or his ass. How about a little hot tit fucking, huh? Can you get into that?”

  Luc wasn’t sure what the man meant. Tit fucking? None of the other men he’d tricked with had ever wanted such a thing. His confusion apparently registered on his face, judging by the way Pierre was now looking at him. But then Pierre only laughed, cheerfully, as he stepped back from Luc.

  “I’ll show you,” Pierre said. “Come on, let’s not waste any time. Let’s get naked.”

  Quickly, he undressed. Luc pulled off his own clothes.

  He and Pierre were both naked when Pierre drew him toward the narrow bed. The older guy’s erection poked out toward Luc, the way it had when he’d exposed himself to the boy in the strip club.

  “First, suck on it a little, so it’s good and wet and slippery,” Pierre gasped.

  His hands moved to Luc’s head, drawing his face down to his crotch. This much, at least, was only too familiar to Luc. Men were all alike. They all wanted to be blown! Luc took the guy’s hard cock in his hand. Suppressing a grimace of disgust, he guided the penis to his lips, putting just the head of it inside his mouth. He began to suck it, gently but thoroughly. Once he got used to the taste and the feel of the hard cock inside his mouth, he blew Pierre more aggressively, and he even began to take a perverse pleasure in performing the act.

  “You’re a good cocksucker. Jesus! Can you ever suck! Go ahead and swallow the whole thing,” Luc’s john insisted. “Take your hand away and let my whole dick slide right down into your throat, kid. You shouldn’t have any trouble taking it. Aw, fuck, yeah! Yeah, that’s the way I like it, baby—that’s how to suck on a hot, hard dick! You’re worth every euro. Go on and suck it good. Don’t hold back. Really blow me. Use your teeth a little, too. That turns me on. Only, don’t bite my cock too hard.”