by Jay Lygon
“You didn’t expect me to run around your party commando, did you, Sir?”
He pulled down on the waistband. “I enjoyed imagining that you were. Bare that ass and I’ll give you a birthday spanking.”
“But it’s your birthday, not mine, Sir.”
“Master’s prerogative. No one spanks your Papi, Baby.” He slapped my butt. “How about we get out your favorite paddle? It’s been a couple weeks since you were over my lap.” He gripped my hard on and stroked it through my underwear. “Would you like me to get out my crop?”
Oh, man, did I ever want that, but I had to keep focused. The whole day was supposed to be about him. “Could you hold that thought for about five hours?”
Hector kept stroking me. How was I supposed to behave when he did things like that? “You want to wait?”
“I haven’t given you your birthday gift yet.” I glanced at my watch. “We’re sort of running tight on time. You might want to get changed, Sir. I put a suit out for you on the bed. If you don’t mind.”
“You’re dressing me now?”
I bowed my head. “If Sir would rather not--” If he rubbed my cockhead much longer, my plan for the evening was going to get chucked out the window.
“Sir is intrigued, to say the least.” Hector let go of my cock and gave me a friendly little swat. “You can get up. Will you be changing, too? You know how much I like the kilt.”
My face was getting hot. “I envisioned us in tuxedos.”
“Curiouser and curiouser. Sam dressing up when he doesn’t have to. Declining a spanking. All right, I’ll play along, simply because now I have to know what you’re up to.”
***
I so wasn’t that kind of guy, but seeing Hector’s face when we phased to Venice brought a little tear to the corner of my eye. I knew I’d done good when he pinched his nose and turned away for a moment.
“Baby. Venice?” He slid his arms around my waist and squeezed.
“It didn’t seem right that I come here every summer for the film festival, but we’ve never been able to spend any time together, so last summer I decided that for your birthday this year we were going to spend an evening here.”
I pulled Hector down one of the narrow streets. We turned down a covered alley that dead-ended at a canal. There was a chain across the steps leading down into the water. I stepped over it. Hector followed me.
A low, black gondola bobbed in the canal. A hottie in a striped shirt sat on the back, smoking, When he saw us, he flicked the butt into the water and rose. “Buona sera, Signore Sam.” The gondolier nodded to Hector. “Signore.”
“Buona sera, Mario,” I said as he reached out to help us on board. “Grazie.” I hadn’t forgotten Ophir’s advice to hire a private gondolier who was family. Mario understood exactly what I wanted from the evening. He'd even found the perfect restaurant for a quiet, romantic dinner and pulled a few strings to get me reservations. I could have used God powers to get on the exclusive list, but Mario had such fun calling in favors and conniving with his friends to make sure that our evening was perfect that I let him do it his way.
The low, sleek gondola teetered as Hector headed for the padded, red velvet seats. I climbed in next. Mario confidently walked down the center of the boat and climbed onto the curving stern.
I handed a single, long stem, red rose to Hector. It seemed kind of hackneyed to me, but I was determined to pull off the most romantic evening ever, and the rose was part of the script. As silly as I thought it was, though, Hector got all misty-eyed.
We settled back in our seats as Mario pushed off from the steps. “First I take you to the Grand Canal. Then I take you back the long way,” he told us.
Lights illuminated the Grand Canal at the edges, but toward the center, it only sparkled on the caps of dark waves. There were private landings for many of the beautiful, old buildings marked off by large, red and white striped pylons sunk into the water. We traveled close to Rialto Bridge, one of the most famous, and largest, in Venice. I’d walked over it at least fifty times in the past four years, but I’d never seen it from the water. The white arches were lit by spotlights, and we could see the constant movement of tourists. Before we reached it, though, Mario turned the boat around and headed for a quiet canal.
The bridge we headed for was impossibly low. I bet I could reach up and brush my fingertips along the underside of it. Hector and I turned to watch Mario, who stood at the back of the boat. For a moment, I wondered if he would jump up onto the bridge, run across the top, and leap down. Instead, he crouched down. I sucked in my breath as the bridge missed his head by mere inches. Then he stood and nonchalantly pushed on his pole to move us along, as if he did that every day. Maybe he did.
We reached a dark canal. Very few windows overlooked it. Mario put his hands on the building beside the canal and pushed until the boat made the tight turn. “This canal is very private,” he promised. “Once, a long time ago, everyone had their own gondola, and these bordered-up doors were the grand entrances to their houses. Now, everyone walks on the streets, and what was once the servants’ entrance is now the way everyone comes into the house. Many beautiful foyers are behind these doors, but no one ever sees them anymore.”
The next doorway we passed, I could see the water lapping against the threshold. Maybe those dire predictions that Venice was sinking weren’t wrong.
Through the third-story window of one house, I could see a beautifully painted ceiling in faded red with wreaths of flowers around the edges. I nudged Hector and pointed to it. He grinned. So much of the beauty of the city was hidden away, but the glimpses we caught were like treasured secrets.
I summoned a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Hector held the glasses as I poured the drinks. “To love,” I said as I clinked our glasses together.
“And to sex.”
I took his hand and twined my fingers with his. He just smiled, but his aura was a borealis of joy. I pulled his hand closer and pressed my lips to his knuckles. A little later, I leaned over and caressed his face. Light kisses turned to lingering ones. My hands slipped from his head to his chest.
Oh, man, did Hector know how to kiss. It was like a direct line ran from my mouth to my cock. Needing to cool down, I nuzzled his neck. Hector had other ideas. Soon I was on the bottom of the boat, pinned under him. He pushed up my dress shirt so that he could kiss down my stomach. He pinched my nipples until I bucked and tears spilled from my eyes.
Hector unbuttoned my fly. Things were moving too fast. My plan was to wait until after dinner for the sex.
“Hector,” I whispered against his lips. “We can get a room.”
“Don’t be shy, Baby. No one will see us.”
“Mario--”
“Mario sees nothing. He’ll remember nothing.” Sensing that I wasn’t entirely convinced, Hector pressed his lips to my neck. “Baby, can’t you feel how hard I am? I need you. Don’t make me wait.”
I lowered my gaze. “I don’t know…” But I did know. I’d just lost any control over the evening, and at that point, I was beyond caring. Besides, I loved outdoor sex, and the buzz I got from the risk of being caught only turned me on more.
“Come on, Baby. I promise it’ll be okay.” His voice was breathless and quiet as he unzipped his fly. “Don’t you want to make me happy? Such a hot baby.” He kissed me again as he pulled my pants down. “You’re driving me crazy.”
Gods, I loved it when he hustled me. I loved it even more when he stared into my eyes as his cock pushed into me. Soon the rocking of the gondola had nothing to do with the waves. Hector covered my mouth with his to stop the torrent of dirty talk that flowed out of me between grunts.
His hand pushed between our bodies to grasp my cock. Hands caressed, and slid over slick skin. He sank his teeth into my neck.
“Papi,” I groaned.
“That feel good? Are you going to come?”
I nodded.
“Wait, Baby. Not yet.” He shoved my knee to my chest and pou
nded into me. “Now.”
We didn’t even try to hold back. A blast of our combined powers shot out into the Venetian night. It collided with unsuspecting lovers and drove them into darkened alleyways for frantic release. It kept going, zipping around the world, leaving no one safe from its wake.
I collapsed under Hector. “Happy birthday, Sir.”
“Best present ever, Boy. Thank you.”
Hector and I disentangled and crawled back onto the red velvet cushions. I pulled up my pants and combed my fingers through my hair as Hector smoothed down his clothes.
I turned around to Mario. “Mario, the restaurant, por favore.”
Mario snapped out of his haze. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes, Sir. The restaurant. Where did the time go?”
Hector stretched his arms over the back of the seat, Master of all he surveyed. “I’ve certainly worked up an appetite,” he said. “What’s that look for, Sam?”
“This was supposed to be a night of perfect romance for you, and I blew it, again.”
Hector ran his thumb across my lips. “What makes you think you blew it?”
“Sex is supposed to come after all the romantic stuff.”
He chuckled. “That was just the appetizer, Baby. Besides, sex is the romantic stuff, too. And if you don’t believe me, after dinner, I’ll show you just how hot and nasty love can get.”
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Personal Demons - 35