Jewels for Vishnu (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)

by Roland Graeme

  He was soon repaid for his patriotic efforts with an outpouring of hot sperm, which filled his mouth to capacity and seared his tongue with its pungent saline flavor. Keeping his lips locked firmly around the base of Renesh’s shaft, Corey swallowed every thick drop, using his tongue to swipe the erupting cockhead clean of its spurting emissions.

  Climaxing, interestingly enough, didn’t seem to make either man less frisky. They romped about on the bed like a couple of oversexed schoolboys, groping, licking, and teasing each other, quickly coaxing their cocks back to full, ready erection.

  “I think I could come again,” Renesh confessed. He looked and sounded almost abashed, as though he was afraid his sexual stamina was something to be ashamed of.

  “Good. Let’s go for it. Hey, I’ve got an idea. How’d you like to screw me this time?”

  “Could I, Corey?”

  “Sure. Tell me, how many American men have you fucked since you moved to LA?”

  “Not many. They usually want to fuck me.”

  “And I can’t blame them. That’s a sweet ass you’ve got there. But let’s try it the other way this time. You show me what you can do, how much of a man you are. Take my ass and fuck the hell out of me.”

  Renesh groaned. “You’re so masculine, Corey. So sexy. You must be extremely exciting to penetrate.”

  “So I’ve been told. Anyway, now’s your chance to find out.” Brazenly, Corey lay on his back on the bed, bent his legs at the knees, and raised his butt from the mattress to expose his anal pucker. He grasped his buttocks in his hands and pulled them wide apart, in order to maximize the exposure. “Go for it, stud,” Corey invited. “Nail my ass!”

  Renesh moved quickly to take full advantage of the offer. He knelt on the mattress, grabbed the box of rubbers and the tube of lube, which Corey had left on the nightstand, and gloved up and slicked up his cock. The dark skin of his penis showed through the translucent latex of the condom, and Corey, gazing at the penis lustfully, already found himself speculating what it would feel like up his ass.

  Renesh rubbed a little more of the lubricant over his cock. Then he seized Corey’s legs and pulled them around his narrow waist. The blond man knew what was coming and he happily let it happen, moaning to encourage Renesh to take him. Not that the eager young Tamil stud seemed to need much encouragement. He plunged two lubricated fingers into Corey’s tender asshole to prepare it for the insertion of his bloated prick. His fingers massaged Corey’s anus with an expertise that Corey found both surprising and encouraging.

  “Fuck me, Renesh,” Corey said breathlessly. “Get inside me and fuck! Fuck my ass!”

  “As you wish,” the ever-polite Renesh replied.

  The probing fingers were withdrawn from Corey’s craving asshole and were instantly replaced by the blunt, insistent head of Renesh’s cock. Corey could feel both of their bodies shifting on the bed as the houseboy pressed his body forward to guide his lubricated weapon between Corey’s thighs, between his buttocks, against the narrow opening of the sheath that was waiting for it. As he felt his anal mouth parting to swallow up the stiff flesh that was being crammed into it, inch after potent inch, Corey knew that he and Renesh were going to enjoy this—a lot. Corey’s ass was going to give this Indian stallion the ride of his life. He was going to make sure that Renesh got a real taste of American gay culture, at last!

  After Renesh left, more than an hour later, Corey had some time in which to reflect, while he got ready for bed.

  So, whenever Kaustav needs to take a quick break from work, he has Renesh right there at hand to take care of him. A nude dunk in the pool, and a fuck. Very convenient. No wonder Kaustav hasn’t bothered to go beyond a little harmless flirting with me, yet. Why should he? He’s getting plenty of action from that hot little houseboy of his. Although I will admit it’s nice of him to share Renesh with me.

  Maybe I’m just not Kaustav’s type. Maybe he doesn’t like blonds. He’s probably used to dark and sultry.

  Well, come to think of it, Joey is dark and sultry. I guess I shouldn’t get too greedy. I ought to be grateful for what I’ve got.

  Chapter Eight:

  Pot Luck

  Corey lost no time in getting together with Kevin for lunch so that he could bring his straight buddy up to date on recent events.

  “So now you’ve got two young guys on your string,” Kevin commented after hearing Corey’s somewhat pornographic account of his evening with Renesh. “Jesus, Corey. Aren’t you a little young to be a ‘hot daddy type’ just yet?”

  “Trust me. My feelings for Renesh, and for Joey, are anything but paternal. I think of myself as more like their big brother. A big brother, admittedly, with pronounced incestuous tendencies.”

  “So when are you going to get together with both of them at once, for a threesome?”

  “Wow. That possibility actually hadn’t occurred to me until just now, believe it or not. But now that you mention it, I’d say that does sound like one hell of a good idea. Thanks for suggesting it. Now I know why I keep you around.”

  “Always glad to be of service, buddy. Now tell me more about this big dinner date you had with Renesh’s boss.”

  Corey did so.

  “So why didn’t you put the make on him, since it seemed to be going so well?” an exasperated Kevin asked. “What’s the matter with you? Are you slipping?”

  “Honestly, Kevin! You make me sound like some kind of an insatiable sex fiend.”

  “As opposed to a satiable one,” his friend quipped. “But just think of it, Corey. Three boyfriends at once! You could fuck them one at a time, two at a time, or even have all four of you in bed together at once. A real orgy.”

  “You have definitely been watching too much gay porn. If you keep this up, buddy, sooner or later you’re going to want to try the real thing.”

  “I’m saving myself for you, Corey. If I ever do decide to start playing on your team, you’re the one I want to fool around with in the locker room. I’d love to get all hot and sweaty and dirty with you and then get all wet and wild with you under the shower.”

  “I think you’ve missed your true calling. You should be directing gay porn. Some straight men do, you know. Not many, admittedly, but I have heard of one or two.”

  Before too long, Kevin brought the conversation back to the topic of Kaustav.

  “Maybe he’s kinky,” Kevin speculated, “and that’s why he hasn’t put the make on you. So far.”

  “I seriously doubt that Kaustav is in any way kinky,” Corey said—although he found the possibility intriguing.

  “Yeah? But remember, from the way that kid Renesh talked about how his boss fucks him, it almost sounds as though Kaustav likes it a little rough.”

  “So do I, on occasion. That doesn’t make me kinky. And Renesh didn’t even know what a cock ring was.”

  Kevin grinned. “Until you enlightened him and gave him a demonstration.”

  “Yes, and gave him a sample, to take home and experiment with. My point is that it doesn’t sound as though Kaustav keeps a collection of sex toys in his bedroom.”

  “Maybe, as you get to know him better, you can enlighten him, as well.”

  “Maybe.” Corey’s sly smile mimicked Kevin’s. “We’ll see.”

  In the days that followed, Corey managed to keep quite busy. He had, in fact, two things to concentrate on in his spare time. One was finalizing the designs for Vishnu’s jewels and beginning work on the actual pieces. For this, Corey had to make a return visit to Mrs. Rashi, who sold him the many tiny gemstones, in a variety of colors, that he needed to fill out the designs. With his safe now filled with tiny, glittering objects waiting to be joined together in intricate patterns, Corey truly had his work cut out for him.

  The second thing that preoccupied Corey was his relationship with Joey. He couldn’t deny it—he had “a thing” for the younger man. He didn’t want Joey to be just another fuck buddy. He wanted more from their relationship.

  But it was
n’t for nothing that people used the expression, “once burned, twice shy.” Corey had been infatuated with other men before, to the verge of obsession. He’d hoped that each of these tricks would turn out to be The One, the guy with whom he’d develop a real, loving, lasting one-on-one relationship. For one reason or another, it had never quite panned out that way, and he had ended up disappointed—and alone.

  He told himself he wasn’t going to be so easily beguiled this time. He wasn’t going to make his usual mistake of expecting too much, too soon.

  As he so often had in the past, Corey found work to be an outlet through which to vent his frustration. He began concentrated work on the set of jewelry for Vishnu.

  On a whim, he took out the autographed photo card of Pierce Taser that Kevin had given him. Corey propped it up on a corner of his work bench where he could see it while he worked, rather in the way a Catholic might display a picture of a saint. After all, Corey thought wryly, if Kaustav had the statue of Vishnu as the patron and protector of his house, then Corey could have the image of the alluringly jockstrap-wearing Pierce Taser close at hand, to oversee his labors.

  After further refining his drawings, modifying certain minor details, he was ready to make some maquettes, which would give a better idea of what the finished pieces would look like. He molded these from a combination of paraffin and beeswax, adding a little coloring to suggest silver. Using rhinestones in various colors and shapes as substitutes for the real gems, he created mock-ups of Vishnu’s crown, necklace, and girdle. For economy’s sake, he made only one bracelet and one anklet. He also assumed that the band around the god’s mace could be left to the imagination, for the time being, since it would closely resemble the bracelets.

  He called Kaustav to report on his progress.

  “We seem to be ahead of schedule,” Kaustav remarked.

  “I’ve been devoting my evenings to Lord Vishnu,” Corey joked. “Let’s hope he’s more appreciative than some of my past boyfriends. In all seriousness, Kaustav, I’m really getting caught up in this project. It’s interesting. I’m eager to show you the maquettes.”

  “And I’m eager to see them.”

  “When would you like me to come to your place, so I can show you how they look on the statue?”

  “Are you free this evening?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s Esmeralda’s night off, so Renesh and I were planning to have an early dinner, and a simple one. Why don’t you join us?”

  “That would be great. Are you going to have one of those delicious Tamil dishes?”

  “We haven’t planned that far ahead. Frankly, on such occasions, we usually just raid the refrigerator and the cupboards and throw something together. Are you developing a taste for Indian cuisine?”

  “I did enjoy what you served for lunch the first time we met.”

  “Well, if you’re willing to take pot luck, we’ll see if we can come up with something simple and hearty and filling—but also reasonably exotic. Oh, and please don’t feel obligated to dress up at all, on our account. We’re looking forward to a very casual evening. Casual even to the point of slovenliness.”

  Corey laughed. “Kaustav, I can’t imagine you being slovenly.”

  “Then I may surprise you. See you soon.”

  Before he left his apartment, Corey turned on the TV to check the local weather report. It wasn’t unusually warm outside tonight. Exposure to extreme heat or direct sunlight could, in fact, soften the paraffin-beeswax compound and begin to distort the carefully carved shapes and details of the maquettes. On more than one occasion, Corey had packed them in ice, in a beverage cooler, as a precaution before transporting them in his car, which of course was a convertible, without air-conditioning. That wouldn’t be necessary on this trip. He’d just have to make a point of keeping the cardboard box in which he now carefully packed them in the shade.

  As he pulled up in front of Kaustav’s house, Kaustav himself emerged through the front door to greet him. He was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, both well-worn and frayed in places, and with lingering traces here and there of old stains that had resisted laundering. On his feet were the sandals he’d worn when he and Corey had first met.

  “I warned you,” Kaustav said. “Welcome to Slovenly Bachelor Hall.”

  “I can see that you’re one of those annoying men who looks good no matter what he wears.”

  “Can I help you with that box?”

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  “Renesh is busy in the kitchen. Come on, let me get you a drink.” As he led Corey into the house, Kaustav glanced at him with more than a hint of a smug smile. “Would you like a Miso Mule?”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I can’t believe you have the ingredients on hand.”

  “Ah, but I do. I added them to the grocery list. I rather enjoyed the way that drink tasted. So I’ve been practicing, to see whether I can reproduce what they served us at Vercusi’s. Would you like to be my guinea pig?”

  “All right. I’m game. I’ll have a Miso Mule, then.”

  Kaustav led Corey to a lacquered cabinet in the living room, which, when Kaustav opened its doors, turned out to be a well-stocked liquor cabinet. “Two Miso Mules, coming right up.”

  With drinks in hand, they went into the kitchen, where Renesh was indeed busy monitoring pots and pans on top of the stove. He greeted Corey brightly.

  “Dinner will be ready in about forty minutes,” he reported.

  “And what are we having?” Corey asked.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Well, the surprise certainly smells promising. I’ll have to force myself to be patient and wait. Since we have some time to kill, Kaustav, why don’t we see what the maquettes look like on the statue?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  In Kaustav’s study, he removed the statue of Vishnu from the mandir and set it on his desk, as he had done during Corey’s first visit to the house. Corey unpacked the maquettes and began to put them on the statue, one by one. To his relief, they not only fit well, they looked good. Kaustav moved around the desk, gauging the effect from various angles.

  “How extraordinary, Corey. I wasn’t expecting anything this detailed. Why, these are works of art, in their own right. What do you do with them when you’re done with them?”

  “Remove all of the rhinestones, and melt down and reuse the wax.”

  “It almost seems a shame.”

  “What about the actual designs? Do you like them, now that you can see them in three dimensions?”

  “I’m very impressed.”

  “Now’s the time to change anything you’re not happy with.”

  “I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d say we’re good to go.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say so, because I’m eager to get down to the real work. And you can’t get a completely accurate impression of the necklace and the waist ornament from these models. They’re rather stiff and inflexible, naturally. The finished pieces will drape much more elegantly when I’m done with them. I’ll make whatever final adjustments I need to, to make sure they fit perfectly.”

  “I’m very excited. I can’t wait to see the completed pieces.”

  “I’m excited, too. I’ve never made so many matching pieces, all at once, as a set.”

  “I know,” Kaustav said. “I’ll take some pictures of the statue right now, to preserve the maquettes for posterity. Vishnu is called ‘The Preserver,’ after all.”

  To Corey’s surprise, the digital camera that Kaustav used to take the photos was a modestly priced model. He’d taken for granted that a man as wealthy as Kaustav indulged himself with all sorts of expensive “big-boy toys.”

  “There,” Kaustav said with satisfaction as he put the camera down. “Now, let’s go check on the progress of dinner.”

  Dinner, eaten at the kitchen table, was informal and indeed rather boisterous. Renesh seemed to emerge a bit from his habitual shell of reser
ve and conversed quite animatedly, answering Corey’s questions about what it been like to grow up in Madurai and then find himself transplanted to Los Angeles. The table talk was so lively that at first Corey simply ate whatever was placed in front of him, without concerning himself with exactly what it was. Everything was good, though, and so curiosity eventually got the better of him.

  “What is this we’re eating? It’s delicious.”

  “These are pancakes stuffed with potatoes and onions. The smaller ones are lentil doughnuts,” Renesh informed him. “And of course those are rice balls on the side, but seasoned with various vegetables and spices.”

  “You seem to have gone to a lot of trouble. I hope it wasn’t on my account.”

  “On the contrary. These are very simple dishes that can be prepared quickly.”

  “There is an especially exotic dessert,” Kaustav said. “Apple strudel.”

  Corey smiled. “Is that a traditional Indian dessert?”

  “Absolutely,” Kaustav assured him, maintaining a deadpan expression. “It’s from the alpine area of Tamil Nadu.”

  “You are pulling my leg, aren’t you? Are there mountains in Tamil Nadu?”

  Kaustav laughed. “The countryside is as flat as these pancakes, on the whole. The apple strudel is from a bakery here in town.”

  Corey ended up taking a second helping of the strudel, at Kaustav’s insistence. “I’m going to have to stop letting you feed me,” Corey protested, perhaps not very convincingly.

  “But it’s our pleasure. You forget that in our culture it’s a source of pride to entertain one’s guests. Which includes feeding them well.”

  “Then you and Renesh have a lot to be proud about. I’m stuffed.”

  “Have some more coffee, Corey,” Renesh said.

  “Thanks. I will.” Outside the kitchen windows, the sun was setting, bathing the interior in a reddish-gold light. “I like the way this house is situated,” Corey remarked. “You have some beautiful views.”