The Blue Cat

by Roland Graeme

  “Not necessarily. We are all open-minded. We sometimes masturbate, in front of one another.”

  “That’s nice. But upstairs, we’ll have all the privacy we could want.”

  “Shall we go up to your room, then?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  He smiled at me, eased his recalcitrant organ back inside his pants, adjusted it, then calmly zipped up. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.

  “Kiss me,” he asked.

  “All right.”

  We kissed. He had a soft, sweet mouth, lightly wine-flavoured, as I’m sure mine was, too.

  He led me out the door. “I just have to tell the others where I’ll be. You don’t mind them knowing, do you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Paavo informed his friends that he might not be back at the hostel until much later. His fellow Danes knew the score. They subjected him to some good-natured ribbing about the fact that he’d gotten lucky, and so early in the evening! They congratulated me, too, as well as assuring me I was going to have a good time, because by all reports Paavo was a good fuck. Had I been a more modest man, I might have blushed.

  There didn’t seem to be any point in acting coy, so I suggested to Paavo that the others might not see him back at the hostel at all. “You’re welcome to spend the night in my room.”

  “As long as I don’t miss our bus, in the morning.”

  “I’ll set my alarm.”

  We agreed that Paavo and I would rejoin the others there in The Blue Cat first thing in the morning, for breakfast.

  To make our way through the crowded barroom to the exit into the hotel proper, we had to pass by the bar. As we did so, Rick gave me a look that was suspiciously close to a leer. For an instant, I was embarrassed, but I told myself there was no need for embarrassment. This couldn’t be the first time Rick had seen a guest pick up a tourist and take him up to his room.

  “Making an early night of it, gentlemen?” Rick asked us.

  “Yes, and a busy one, I hope.”

  He laughed. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  “We intend to.” I delayed, hoping for some sort of a reaction from him—jealousy, maybe.

  “If you need anything, just ring.”

  “I think I have everything I need, right here.” To illustrate the point, I squeezed Paavo’s ass through the seat of his pants. He wriggled his butt to return the pressure and smiled at Rick—who seemed amused and perhaps even a bit envious, after all.

  I took Paavo upstairs.

  “Isn’t he handsome?” Paavo said, obviously referring to Rick.

  “He’s all right,” I replied, pretending an indifference I was in fact far from feeling.

  Only the night before, I’d come close to tricking with Rick, and now I had picked up this boy. Rick no doubt thought I was a slut. Well, I was certainly behaving like one, so I could hardly blame Rick if he made snap judgments about me. I just couldn’t help myself. I had to have some form of sexual relief.

  In my room, I turned the bedside lamp on and we undressed. Paavo was methodical, folding his clothes and stacking them neatly on a chair.

  He had a nice body, with a flawless pale skin that glowed rose-gold in the lamplight and a thick cock with a pronounced mushroom head. He already had an erection and I wasn’t far behind him. Standing there beside the bed, we embraced and indulged in some more kissing, which got steadily more intense as I enjoyed his mouth.

  At last, though, we separated, long enough for me to turn down the bed and fetch a fresh towel from the bathroom. I put the towel on the nightstand, beside my box of condoms and bottle of lube.

  Paavo had gone over to the window to look out it and admire the night-time view. He turned back to face me, a boyish satyr sporting a man-sized erection, which he now grasped lightly in his hand and stroked with the ball of his thumb. He grinned at me, with the salaciousness of an experienced debauchee, belying his youth.

  “I’m getting very excited,” he informed me—unnecessarily, given the visual evidence of his excitement. “Shall we begin?”

  “We haven’t really discussed what we like to do,” I pointed out.

  “I like to do everything,” he boasted. “What about you?”

  “Oh, I daresay I’m reasonably versatile. But I’m not in the mood for anything too exotic tonight. Just the basics.”

  “The basics can be good. Like a meal made from simple ingredients, but cooked to perfection.”

  “I like your simile.”

  “And I like your body and your cock. Why are you standing there, so far away? Come here.” There was a hint of breathlessness in his voice now, as though he was getting excited. As I moved toward him, he got down on his knees. “I want to suck you,” he whispered, his eyes staring up at me hotly, provocatively.

  “That sounds good, as an appetizer.”

  “I like it when a man gets a little rough with me. I want you to fuck my face!”

  So he had a bit of a power bottom in him, did he? Well, he’d met the right man. I’d be happy to accommodate him.

  “I’ll fuck your face for you,” I half-promised, half-threatened. “And you’d better make this cock of mine feel damned good, if you know what’s good for you!”

  He let out a moan of undisguised submissive acceptance. That was all the encouragement I needed.

  I took his head tightly between both of my hands, then stooped over him, bending so my testicles brushed down the back of his head and my penis lay hard on his forehead. “Open your mouth, you pretty little blond cock sucker. Open it, I tell you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want my cock in your mouth. You want to suck it!”

  “Yes,” he gasped.

  “How badly do you want to suck it?”

  “Very much.”

  “Prove it! Get to work.” As I uttered the command, I pushed my dick painfully down, trying to force it between his pursed lips. He twisted his face sideways to evade me, but I grabbed his hair with both hands and twisted his head upright again.

  “Make me do it,” he pleaded.

  “You’d better be careful what you wish for,” I warned him.

  Still holding him by his hair, I pulled his face against my groin and rubbed my genitals over his nose and lips.

  “Sniff it,” I instructed him. “Sniff a man’s cock and balls.”

  He inhaled sharply, deeply, as though I were offering him some drug guaranteed to make him high. After that, I scarcely needed to coach him. He attacked my crotch with his lips and tongue, kissing and licking my flesh with an indiscriminate abandon. Brazenly, he rubbed his tongue over the knob that crowned my shaft, as though he was trying to polish it. His tongue-tip darted back and forth inside the deep slit of my pisser and tasted the rewards of his efforts when a thick drop of pre-cum ooze from my tormented prick. Paavo swabbed my glans again, lapping up the drop of fluid. I shuddered, as my cock flesh seemed to tingle, as though a nearby flame was in danger of searing it.

  I had to get my cock inside those sensual lips, fuck that handsome young face and shoot my jism into him. I had to! My lust would torment me until I did.

  “Open up,” I gasped.

  He took my cock inside his mouth without hesitation and worked on its full length.

  I seized a fistful of his blond hair and fucked his face.

  “All the way,” I demanded. “Get that mouth of yours all the way down on it, boy. Choke on it!”

  He choked on it, but he managed to repress his gag reflex, and soon he was deep throating me like a pro.

  Somehow, we ended up on the bed, with my body twisted around on top of his in a tight sixty-nine position. Paavo had my dick in his mouth again, voraciously feeding upon it.

  I saw his cock, flushed dark pink, long and hard, only inches away from my face. At that moment, all vestiges of restraint left me. I desperately needed to taste and suck that cock. I lunged forward and thrust my mouth over the long fuck tool. In a mutual frenzy, we mout
hed each other’s flesh.

  I heard a hoarse cry bubble up from between my legs. Thick heat pelted into my mouth. Tacky spurts of his semen shot into my throat, then coursed back over my tongue like a flood tide.

  His body went limp under mine.

  I exulted, in the fact that after my long stint of abstinence, I once again had taken a man’s cock in my mouth. I had a man’s semen in my mouth. I could taste it...I could swallow it!

  However, I hadn’t come yet. Now it was time to fuck this pretty-little Danish boy’s ass!

  “I’m not done with you yet,” I warned him. “Not by a long shot! You’re going to get fucked, boy. You’re going to get fucked good and hard!”

  “Yes, please,” was all that he said, by way of response.

  I fucked Paavo in one position after another, on his hands and knees, with me kneeling behind him and pounding away at his butt. Flat on his belly, with his arms and legs spread out wide in an X and me lying on top of him, on this back, with his legs up over my shoulders, on our sides. At one point, we got off the bed and did it standing up, with one of Paavo’s legs raised and his foot planted firmly on the edge of the mattress. I have to admit that, in this position, his buttocks remained parted and his asshole seemed exceptionally wide open and receptive to my thrusts. Paavo’s favourite position, however, seemed to be the one we assumed when we climbed back onto the bed, with me flat on my back and him squatting over my groin, flexing his knees and bouncing recklessly up and down on the full length of my cock. I didn’t have to thrust at all, that time. Paavo simply fucked himself on my prick, using me as his human dildo. The horny little blond slut was insatiable and there were moments when I feared that tight, demanding hole of his was going to scrape a layer of skin off my cock.

  All the while, both of us kept up a steady stream of breathless dirty talk, urging each other on. When he got especially excited, Paavo would lapse into his native tongue. I learned a number of potentially useful Danish phrases and I returned the favour by demonstrating the proper use of certain Anglo-Saxon epithets.

  Chapter Eight

  In Which I Receive Physical Therapy

  Paavo saw my travel clock on the nightstand.

  “Don’t forget to set the alarm,” he said.

  I set it, then I turned off the light and we settled down comfortably in each other’s arms.

  “You’re very beautiful,” I told my bedmate, “and very sexy.”

  “So are you. I wish I didn’t have to leave in the morning.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to, either. But sometimes these one-night stands are among the best.”

  “If you ever come to Copenhagen, you must come and stay with me.”

  “The same goes for you, if you ever come to London. They’re not so far away from one another, after all.”

  “No, they’re not. But don’t you have a lover, in London?”

  “I’m in love with a soldier, but he’s deployed overseas right now.”

  “A soldier? How nice. I like men in uniform. They are so sexy. You must miss him terribly.”

  “I do. How about you? Don’t you have a lover, in Copenhagen?”

  “Oh, several.”

  “Shame on you.”

  “Yes, I’m very bad.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. I think you’re grand. Kiss me…kiss me goodnight and let’s try to get some sleep.”

  It was very pleasant to have Paavo beside me in bed. Nevertheless, we didn’t get much sleep. It was still dark outside when he woke me, begging me to fuck him again. I protested that I couldn’t possibly get it up again so soon, but he proved me wrong. We went through our repertoire of positions again and had no sooner concluded our business successfully and collapsed on top of each other in a hot, sweaty post-ejaculation heap, than the alarm went off.

  We took turns showering, then got dressed and went downstairs.

  The Danes had brought their luggage with them to The Blue Cat, had even packed Paavo’s things and brought them along so he wouldn’t have to go back to the hostel. Breakfast was lively and fortified by plenty of strong, hot coffee. I managed to keep up my end of the conversation despite my state of sexual exhaustion.

  In addition to breakfast, the students ordered sandwiches, which they had wrapped up to take along with them on their trip. I walked with them to the bus stop to see them off, and Paavo bade me farewell with a prolonged and soulful kiss. The oversexed little bastard even grabbed my ass, right there in front of the bus driver, the other passengers and all of his friends—who seemed delighted by the exhibition.

  I waved as the bus departed, then staggered back to The Blue Cat, feeling fucked out to the verge of being comatose. Rick, looking annoyingly fresh and alert, was busying himself behind the bar. He greeted me with a cheeriness, which in my present state of fatigue I found equally irritating.

  “Give me another cup of coffee,” I growled. “And for Christ’s sake, make it strong and serve it to me black.”

  “Sure. It’s on the house. You look as though you need it.”

  “You have no idea. You’re up early, as usual, I see.”

  “I’ve already had my morning jog and swim. How about you? Did you get any exercise last night?”

  I groaned. “Plenty. I may have to go back to bed, to recuperate.”

  “Did the Danish contingent get off okay?”

  “They just left, on the bus. At least one of them got off, in every sense of the word. More than once.”

  “You and that little blond boy made a cute couple. He might have been your kid brother.”

  “Trust me. My feelings for him were anything but fraternal. And don’t let that innocent choirboy look of his fool you. Underneath that cherubic exterior there beats the heart of a true sex fiend. A predator, hell-bent on sucking the vital juices out of unwary older men.”

  “Um. All of a sudden, I’m getting a hankering for some Danish. And I’m not talking about pastry! Too bad those kids couldn’t stick around.”

  “If they had, I’d have ended up in the hospital, with my dick in a splint.”

  “Maybe I’d better give it some attention,” Rick suggested. “Nurse it back to health.”

  “Give me a few hours to recuperate from my current state of acute erectile dysfunction,” I pleaded. “If I took you up on your kind offer right now, I’d probably disappoint you. To say nothing of the fact that I’d probably end up sexed to death and it might be embarrassing for you to have one of your guests drop dead on the premises.”

  He laughed long and loud at my expense—the smug bastard! “Okay. I’ll give you a rain check. Just let me know when you do feel as though you’ve returned to the land of the living.”

  I didn’t see Rick during the rest of the day. When, that evening, I remarked to Luigi that his boss seemed conspicuous by his absence, Luigi nodded. He told me that Il Padrone had had an unusually busy day, even by his standards. Rick had met with one the hotel’s food suppliers, had discussed some repairs to the hotel with a contractor and had interviewed a couple of prospective new employees. Now, this evening, he was attending a meeting of the town council, of which he was a member.

  Oh yes, Luigi assured me, in response to my question, Signor Rick took a very active part in the town’s affairs. He was always looking out for the local small businessmen’s interests, and he was popular as a result. Some people even urged him to run for mayor, but he said he’d be too busy, while running The Blue Cat singlehandedly, to devote sufficient time to that added responsibility.

  It was a beautiful evening, and after dinner I went for a long walk, exploring some sections of the waterfront I hadn’t had time to investigate before. On one narrow side street, I went into a tavern. It was a hole-in-the-wall of a place, dark, noisy and probably dirty, but the bartender and the clientele were friendly and I enjoyed practicing my Italian on them as we talked over a few drinks.

  When I got back to The Blue Cat and went up to my room, I saw that a
small envelope, in the hotel’s distinctive stationery—blue, of course—had been pushed under my door. The envelope contained a note scrawled in a large, bold handwriting.

  If the patient requires any physical therapy, the doctor is in. Until midnight or so.

  It was signed Dr. Rick, Certified Sex Therapist.

  With the note still in my hand, I went directly up to his floor and knocked on his apartment door.

  He opened the door almost at once. He was barefoot, wearing a lemon yellow silk dressing gown over a pair of lime green silk pyjama bottoms. Both garments looked as though they were of high quality and I couldn’t help thinking that they made Rick look a bit toffish, to use one of Geoff’s expressions.

  He smiled at me. “Buona sera, Viscontino.”

  “Were you in bed?” I asked him.

  “No. Just relaxing, after making myself a late dinner. Come on in.”

  As I did so, I showed him his note. “I have a rain check here, which I’d like to cash in, if I can.”

  “I’d be delighted to take care of that for you, sir. Personally. By the way, I’m having a limoncello, on crushed ice, nice and refreshing on a hot night. Want one?”

  “Yes, please. And by one, I do mean I’ll have one drink. Cut me off after that. I’m not going to repeat the mistake I made the other night and end up half-crocked. But while we’re speaking of things that are refreshing, you look like a dish of sherbet in that outfit. I could eat you with a spoon.”

  “You wouldn’t need the spoon.”

  We sat down and sipped our drinks.

  “Luigi told me about your rather hectic schedule today,” I remarked.

  “It was nonstop. I barely had time to take a leak. But at least that made the day pass quickly. I sure as hell never had a chance to feel bored. This is the first minute I’d really had to just sit down and catch my breath.”

  I felt obligated to ask, “Are you sure you’re up to having company? You must be tired.”

  “I’m fine. I’m getting my second wind. How about you? You seem to have sprung back to life, with no permanent harm done, after your night devoted to international debauchery.”