Casa Rodrigo

by Johnny Miles

  And what sensations he had felt!

  First Tocino's hands had been all over his flesh, burning him. Then the man

  had hurriedly freed Alonso's cock from his pants and undergarments and hungrily

  wrapped his lips around the head. Even after repeated attempts on their three-

  month voyage, Tocino was still unable to take Alonso all the way down his throat. It

  thrilled Alonso tremendously.

  The excitement of being serviced the way he had been, only semihidden from

  the others on duty had been thrilling enough. But now that he was finally on the

  island, especially after having seen Arbol again, after touching his hand, feeling

  him near, Alonso felt as if a large fire were burning brightly and roaring somewhere

  inside him.

  But where was Arbol? Where did he live?

  Casa Rodrigo

  29

  Looking through the window in his room—beyond the barn and beyond the

  forest of trees to the clearing where the slave quarters had been built and were now

  lit by the waxing moon—Alonso thought to search for him. He wanted to take

  Arbol's hand and share with him the wonderful pleasures of the flesh, show the tall,

  handsome slave all the things he had experienced.

  If only he were here now. Alonso groped himself.

  Unfortunately there had been no assignments left for Arbol. And despite the

  smile on his dark brown, almost black face, Alonso knew Arbol had been gravely

  disappointed.

  Alonso had tried to persuade his father, to no avail. The man refused to budge

  from his decision that Arbol was best left in the fields for his own protection.

  In private, Alonso had argued that after all this time, Raúl would have

  forgotten about the lost baby, assumed him dead. But his father still refused him,

  finally confessing that due to Arbol's strength and size, he could do the work of

  three men. That type of field-worker would be a tremendous loss. Then his father

  did something he had never done before. He abruptly ended the conversation.

  Still irritated by that, Alonso leaned into the night air and looked up at the

  moonlit sky. He spread his arms wide on the sill made from thick wooden timber.

  Feelings he had forgotten, memories that were all but a whisper, came flooding

  back.

  Perhaps I should not have hugged him, Alonso thought, then pushed the

  thought aside. He was the master's son. He would do what he wished.

  But what of that strange feeling when I touched and squeezed his arm? Alonso

  could feel a tingling coursing through him, numb yet still there. Like the memory of

  a burn. It was as if Arbol had made an impression that lingered, one that was still

  very much alive despite how many hours had passed.

  Alonso had never felt that before. It was an odd sort of tension, something he

  could almost put his finger on and touch. It felt similar to what he had felt that first

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  Johnny Miles

  night with Tocino. Only much stronger. All he could see in his mind—all he could

  smell—was Arbol.

  Alonso was sure Arbol would welcome his advances. He briefly wondered if

  Arbol had been with another man before. If he had, all the better. And if he hadn't,

  how exciting it would be to show him how it felt to have another man do such

  pleasurable things to him.

  As he thought of it, Alonso stroked his groin with his palm. He curled his

  fingertips around his pubic hair and tugged while his cock—thick, long, and

  tumescent—bobbed in the night air, seeking much-needed attention.

  He closed his eyes and imagined Arbol, lips wrapped around the head of his

  cock, a hand around the base of his shaft, cupping his balls.

  A lone drop of clear liquid flowed and dangled several inches below the head of

  his cock. It sparkled in the moonlight.

  Alonso reached for it, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. The salty

  taste only aroused him more. With a sigh, he knew he had to find a way to bring

  Arbol out of the sugarcane fields and into the house, into his bed. But first he had to

  find him.

  Turning from the window, Alonso hurriedly reached for the clothes he had

  worn earlier that day. He dressed, walked across the room, and opened the door.

  Then stood there at the threshold.

  What if I'm getting the wrong impression? What if I'm just imagining Arbol

  wants the same thing as Tocino? I'm sure he already has a girl—or a boy. Someone

  to take care of his needs. Why would he want to be with me?

  And then another thought popped into his head.

  What if he expected to be friends?

  He might not be able to be as free with Arbol as he would have been in Spain,

  as they once had been. Things were different here. They were a bit

  more…complicated.

  Casa Rodrigo

  31

  Confused, Alonso sighed and closed the door. He undressed slowly, then went

  back to the window. He stared up at the moon.

  Unable to stop thinking about Arbol or to stop imagining him on his knees,

  servicing his cock and swallowing his seed, Alonso grabbed hold of his erection and

  stroked it. Fully aroused, he closed his eyes and threw his head back as he thought

  of Arbol and his big, pink, thick lips. He saw them wrapped around the head of

  his… In fact, he could almost feel them…slowly, lovingly caressing the entire length

  of his shaft.

  Alonso imagined himself coming onto Arbol's face, then smearing his lips with

  fresh, hot semen. The promise of erupting like a volcano while another man

  swallowed his ejaculate was a sensation that shook Alonso to the very core.

  Alonso moaned, trying not to make noise as his body shook and convulsed from

  the force of coming. He envisioned Arbol's dark brown muscled body, slick with

  sweat, entwined with his own as they rolled around his bed.

  When he regained his composure, Alonso opened his eyes and looked down at

  the puddles where his seed had splattered. He was surprised to see so much.

  Alonso squatted and dipped his fingertips into one of the puddles. He sniffed

  his fingers, then brought them to his mouth and sucked on them. Pretending it was

  Arbol's cum he was tasting, Alonso soon grew hard again.

  If Father won't assign Arbol a job here at the house, I'm just going to have to

  figure out a way to spend time with him. He lay on his bed and masturbated a

  second time.

  Before long, as the second load of cum dried in the dark hair on his belly,

  Alonso slowly drifted off to sleep.

  Bernardo lay on his back in the middle of Raúl's bed. He was still feeling the

  effects from the nearly two bottles of rum they—but mostly Raúl—had consumed.

  He looked up at the ceiling and watched the shadows move with the moonlight.

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  He tried to close his eyes, tried desperately to sleep even for a little while. But

  his mind wouldn't let him. Even with the rum, every time Bernardo closed his eyes,

  all he could see was the image of himself rutting like an animal behind Raúl,

  fucking him. One hand clasping his shoulder, the other entwined in his hair as Raúl

  shouted, “Harder! Harder!”

  In fact, everything Bernardo had been commanded to do, he had done. From

  the deep, hurried kissing to
the desperate licking and biting of Raúl's neck, sucking

  on the flesh until Bernardo left marks.

  But had he really been commanded? Or had he done it out of habit, knowing it

  was what Raúl liked, what he wanted?

  Or what you now want? a voice inside his mind teased. Bernardo squashed the

  voice.

  Even when Raúl, who still looked like the long-haired, blue-eyed demon he had

  been in his thirties, wasn't begging Bernardo to fuck him harder, deeper, to treat

  him like a whore, Bernardo still craved to dominate the one man who could drive

  him to that sexual frenzy where nothing mattered but the animalistic grunts and

  groans—the slapping of skin on skin, the smell of their sweat.

  And the two of them coming together, spent.

  Ashamed of the way his body and cock always betrayed him, sick of the desire

  welling inside his veins, Bernardo shifted and tried to get out of bed. Slowly,

  carefully, he pried apart Raúl's long fingers, which had wrapped around the length

  of his now-hardening cock. Bernardo gently moved Raúl's dark blond head from his

  chest so he could slip from beneath the man's weight.

  He sat up at the side of Raúl's bed. The room seemed to sway and Bernardo

  felt as if he were still on the ship. He tried to stand, but as he did so, Raúl grabbed

  his wrist and held him.

  “Where do you think you're going?” Raúl asked playfully, his voice husky with

  sleep and desire.

  Casa Rodrigo

  33

  “I…I really should be going home. It's very late, and I'm tired after such a long

  trip,” Bernardo said sheepishly.

  “And?”

  “And”—Bernardo thought a moment, surprised he could still do so—“I really

  think this needs to stop. We've done what you wanted. The loan is paid in full. I

  don't think we need to do…this…anymore.”

  Raúl was silent. Bernardo held his breath. He knew the alcohol had loosened

  his tongue.

  “Do you really think this is about the money I loaned you?” Raúl said quietly.

  Bernardo thought back to all the times they had met—all the times they had

  ever argued. There had always been a tension between them. Sparks had always

  flown in some form or other. He had never been able to understand why he could

  detest such a man yet be so attracted to him at the same time.

  “If it's not about the money, then why have we been…?” Bernardo could not

  bring himself to say it.

  “Fucking?” Raúl finished for him. There was a certain perverse pleasure in his

  word. Silence crept between them before Raúl spoke again, his voice barely a

  whisper. “Let's just say…I enjoy your company.”

  “I…I need to go home,” Bernardo said, rubbing his temples. “I need to get some

  sleep.”

  “You're more than welcome to sleep here,” Raúl teased, releasing Bernardo and

  stroking the hair on his forearm.

  Goddamn this man! Bernardo closed his eyes and yelled loudly in his mind. He

  wanted to stand, get dressed, and leave. He wanted to walk out of Raúl's house and

  never come back. Financially, Casa Rodrigo was free. Tonight's encounter had been

  the last installment of a loan payment, their agreed-upon conditions. Nothing more.

  Wasn't it?

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  Bernardo did not see the point in furthering their sexual encounters. Yes,

  there was a part of him that enjoyed debasing himself by treating Raúl like the

  prick he was. But Bernardo always wound up feeling disgusted for giving in so

  easily.

  And yet he enjoyed it so.

  Bernardo told himself to stand but was too dizzy to move.

  That, and his cock, foreskin now pulled back with excitement, had a mind of its

  own.

  “Come back to bed,” Raúl whispered. “Lie down beside me. I'll help you fall

  asleep.” Raúl sounded as if he was almost pleading.

  Bernardo wished he could say no, he even tried to, and wondered why Raúl's

  will always seemed to overpower his own.

  Was that why Adelina detested Raúl so much? It couldn't just be the slavery

  issue, could it? Or did she perhaps see the sexual attraction in his eyes for the man

  she could not stomach?

  “Bernardo. How long have we known each other?” Raúl lay on his side,

  propped up on his elbow.

  “At least thirty years.”

  “In that time…have you…ever seen me with a woman?” Bernardo thought

  Raúl sounded almost hesitant. “Let me rephrase that,” Raúl added. “Have you ever

  seen me with a white woman?”

  Bernardo shook his head.

  “Did you ever stop to wonder why?” Raúl reached out for his hand, but

  Bernardo pulled it out of reach.

  “The women I like are submissive,” Raúl explained, reaching farther to place a

  hand over Bernardo's. “I like my men with…some fire to them. A little spunk and

  bravado. Even if it's forced. And I especially like you.”

  Casa Rodrigo

  35

  Bernardo looked at Raúl. His body was illuminated by the moonlight

  streaming through the window. His toned legs, fat cock, large balls, flat belly, and

  sinewy arms all seemed to shimmer in the white light. But his face was in shadows.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I…” Raúl started, then trailed off as if he had changed his mind. The silence

  between them was growing intolerable. “Nothing, Bernardo. Just…give in. You

  know you want to.”

  Raúl's aching voice worked on Bernardo like a soft, wanton caress. It all but

  consumed him. Bernardo's breath caught in his throat. He allowed himself to be

  pulled gently back to bed as if he were in a trance. Raúl was instantly on him.

  Bernardo gave a little gasp and spread his legs, giving Raúl full access to his cock,

  his balls, his hole. He sighed as Raúl luridly ran his hands over the tops of his

  thighs, caressing him, even as Raúl's lips encircled the head of his cock.

  Greedily, hungrily, Raúl swallowed Bernardo to the base of his shaft and

  forced his hands beneath Bernardo's buttocks, cupped them.

  Bernardo groaned. Raúl pushed Bernardo's hips up as if encouraging him to

  fuck his face. He grabbed hold of the back of Raúl's skull and gave him what he

  wanted.

  No, Bernardo. Not what he wants. What you want! the voice in Bernardo's

  mind teased once more.

  No! I don't! This is the rum talking. It was part of the deal—part of our

  contract—I had to do it, Bernardo shouted in his mind.

  Did you?

  Bernardo knew better but hated to admit, even to himself, how much he had

  grown to look forward to their escapades. The rum took over and pushed reason

  aside.

  “Yes!” Bernardo whispered, giving in to the pleasure of being with Raúl. “Oh

  yes!”

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  Johnny Miles

  “Yes, what?” Raúl asked absentmindedly as he lifted Bernardo's legs into the

  air.

  “Nothing!” Bernardo moaned as Raúl's tongue found that most sacred part of

  him and licked. Bernardo bit his lips to keep from crying out.

  Raúl chuckled lewdly and released the cock that had been buried down his

  throat.

  “I know at times you protest. You ac
t like you don't like what we're doing. But

  there you are, holding your own legs up for me.” Raúl moved one hand to Bernardo's

  tailbone. With his other hand he held Bernardo's cock up in the air. He licked at the

  head and teased it, tasting the clear, thick liquid on his tongue. Raúl slobbered over

  the head of Bernardo's cock.

  “What is it…you do to me?” Bernardo gasped, feeling the other man's drool

  dribble down his shaft to his balls and his hole.

  “Does it matter?” Raúl replied and rammed his middle finger up Bernardo's

  ass. “The point is that I do it to you—whatever it is—and that you like it.”

  Bernardo's lean, still-well-muscled body went taut as he writhed and tried to

  wriggle away from the pressure he was suddenly feeling in that spot, that

  wonderfully magical spot just behind the base of his cock.

  “Say it!” Raúl commanded quietly but firmly.

  But Bernardo couldn't—no, wouldn't.

  “Come on. You know you like it. Say it. I want to hear you. Admit to me,

  Bernardo. Admit you enjoy having sex with me. That you enjoy all the wonderfully

  disgusting things we do together.” Raúl fingered Bernardo crudely, roughly.

  Bernardo mewled like a kitten as Raúl put even more pressure on that spot

  and shoved yet another finger inside him to join the first one.

  “Just let yourself go, Bernardo,” Raúl said, his voice working on Bernardo's

  mind like a drug, like another shot of rum. Bernardo felt hypnotized, following the

  sound of Raúl's voice just as he followed him down the path to temptation.

  Casa Rodrigo

  37

  Bernardo's hunger had taken possession of his body and was now in control.

  The only thing that mattered was that their bodies join and become one.

  “Oh God!” Bernardo cried, lost in his pleasure. “Take me, Raúl!” There was a

  moment where he was stunned to hear his own voice echoing in his ears. A moment

  where he was surprised that he had grabbed hold of Raúl's fist and clamped on tight

  so he could move his hips up and down. Just so long as that magical spot was once

  again being tapped and pushed.

  Bernardo pushed all fear, shame, and doubt aside and allowed himself to do