“Are ‘you’ Giovanni?” Rayne persisted, running a finger slowly up and down the condensation beaded flank of his beer glass. Beside them, three generations of the same family took up residence around a couple of tables and began a noisy conversation. The blond barman swept in and began to take their orders efficiently, tall and tanned in his baggy Bermudas and colourful shirt. Across the table in the shade of the parasol, the dark-haired man contemplated Rayne Wylde solemnly.
“You come into the bar. Have another drink with me, si?” he said at last.
“I’ve not got much money,” Rayne ventured apologetically.
“You have a drink. On the house. And we talk about what you need, hmm?” The fellow rose and drained his glass, setting it back on the table between them like a challenge.
“Okay.” Rayne echoed his manoeuvre and followed him back towards the bar. Within it was shady and cooler, drafts of air descending from the large ceiling fans above them. It was also empty, on a lovely day like this few people wanted to sit indoors, even in an open fronted beach bar. His host selected two more beer bottles and cracked them open deftly, sliding one along the counter towards Rayne with a practised hand.
“First question. You got no money, how you gonna pay me for these goods you want, hey?” he asked pragmatically.
“I’ll get some money. I’ve just got nothing with me now,” Rayne said, taking a swig from the neck of the bottle in his hand. “I just wanted to check… make sure my friend got his information right, you know.”
“He was correct, but my services don’t come cheap,” the dark-skinned foreigner warned him more gravely, leaning on the bar to look him in the eye again. The blond returned from his interrogation of the huge family wearing a harassed expression. The pair exchanged a few words in a tongue Rayne did not understand and the blond glanced at him incuriously then made some comment that caused his dark-haired colleague to utter a bark of crude laughter.
Irritably, Rayne slid off his barstool and set down the bottle with a click. “If you’re not gonna take this seriously then I’ll pay for my drink and go elsewhere,” he said in a warning tone.
Again the pair behind the bar exchanged a look. The blond busied himself pulling pints and making cocktails but his companion moved around the counter to stand in front of Rayne. He stood about a half head taller and now the feral smile was gone.
“You don’t talk about this conversation to anyone, understand?” he intoned darkly. “Giovanni can get you what you want, but you pay what I say ‘when’ I say. Do you understand me? I don’t play games with little boys like you.”
“I’m not a kid,” Rayne snapped back at him. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll get the cash.”
“You got a big mouth and you don’t think before you open it,” Giovanni hissed into his face. He jerked a long, brown thumb back in the direction of the toilets at the rear of the bar. “You wanna talk a deal then we go where we don’t get heard.”
“Fine.” Rayne realised he was shaking and gritted his teeth. It would not do to look too desperate. He set off for the back of the unit and the other fellow came after him at once.
There was a small door with colourful leaded glass in front of him and he opened it and found himself in a long, narrow corridor where buckets and mops and assorted cleaning equipment had been stowed away hastily. The passage broadened after about five strides revealing a small, square room not much bigger than a cupboard, a basin with a soap dispenser hanging over it, a cracked mirror and a single w.c. with a wooden seat. There were movie posters on the lilac-painted walls, and cuttings from poster boy magazines depicting muscular young men in varying states of undress.
“Nice,” Rayne remarked deprecatingly as he turned to face the older man. “‘Are’ you Giovanni?”
The fellow cracked his knuckles and nodded once. Rayne took a deep breath; he was just showing off, trying to be impressive. Don’t mess about, he thought grimly. Cut to the chase.
“Can you get hold of some Junk for me?”
Giovanni sucked a breath through his teeth and pretended to consider.
“It won’t be inexpensive,” he said at last.
“I don’t expect it to be.” Rayne held his eyes. “I can get money.”
“Or…” Giovanni looked him up and down reminding Rayne that he was naked and his companion was not. It was a predatory look, one that the younger man was all too familiar with. “I can arrange for you to ‘make’ some money. Enough to pay for your drugs.”
Rayne looked away, feeling suddenly queasy. He knew exactly what Giovanni was proposing and he also knew that it made sense but still there was that uncomfortable sensation of déjà vu.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said in a flat monotone.
“A shame,” Giovanni remarked. “It would be enjoyable. You are pretty boy. It would be a pleasure to train you.”
“Train…?” Rayne looked up at him incredulously. “I’m not a fuckin’ performing seal!”
Giovanni laughed softly at that. “You have good spirit. I like that. Are you virgin?”
“Does that turn you on?” Rayne sneered back at him automatically. “Shy, inexperienced, little sub boys who’ll do as they’re told! Does that get your rocks off?”
“Yes,” Giovanni said frankly. “I like that, but also I like spirit. You are spirited Rayne. Is your ass tight?”
He almost laughed at that. “Probably not, since it had a fist and two big cocks rammed up it last night!”
Giovanni inhaled a long, tremulous breath and stroked his crotch. He was getting quite aroused and Rayne sensed that he was not a man who would take no for an answer. “Was last night your first time, Rayne?”
“No.” He saw no point in lying. Giovanni was going to fuck him either way. At least he was reasonably handsome and from the jutting prow of his groin he had a substantial looking cock in his jeans. He unzipped now and slid a hand inside, rubbing himself and almost purring with pleasure.
“Do you like to do it rough? Do you like a hard, fast fuck in your ass?”
“The faster the better,” Rayne told him cynically.
“Turn around and spread your legs,” Giovanni told him. “Lean against the wall. Do this for me and I’ll get you two ounce as a reward.”
Rayne’s cynicism faded slightly. That was enough to sweet-talk him into just about anything.
“For free?”
A Boy Who Came In from the Cold
“Turn around.” Giovanni had his erect penis in his hand now, ten lovely fat, sun-bronzed inches of Latino cock. He reached for the soap dispenser and rubbed the slippery pink goo over his shaft. Rayne turned his back and rested both hands against the wall in the ‘frisk me’ position. A sun-tanned sailor boy was wiggling his golden arse cheeks out of the back of his crisp white pants right in front of his nose. He concentrated on that deep, smooth, hairless cleft and the promised Junk as Giovanni parted his buttocks and penetrated him fast and hard from behind. Three quick, deep stabs got him more than halfway in and Rayne was mewling breathlessly as he began to pump his big, slippery Italian prick in and out, submerging it more profoundly in the English boy’s arse. Within half a minute he was fully immersed.