A medium sized city on the North East coast of Brazil, not really on the international tourist trail. But somehow, a wealthy American couple, Chris, 41, and Ryan, 34, have ended up there on holiday. They're together with Van, a local guy in his late 20s, at an expensive beach resort.
Van, standing in the middle of one of the resort's spacious changing rooms, is broad and muscular. He is letting the bottom of the couple, Ryan, unwrap him like a Christmas present. Ryan stands on tiptoes to peel Van's shirt off, then pauses with Chris to admire the man's body. Van flexes a broad bicep, lets Ryan runs his hand over the curves of it, then Van guides Ryan's fingers down over his chest. The men Chris and Ryan had seen so far on the beach here have been slim, defined, smooth but Van is different. Ryan runs his fingers over wide, strong pecs covered with black wiry hair, a broad brown nipple and then, further down, over more hair on the man's plump belly.
Ryan is shaking a bit as his hand reaches the waistline of Van's jeans, the point just above the heavy, tightly-packed bulge of the Brazilian's crotch. He glances up for permission to his boyfriend. Chris grins at him, "Open it, babe."
Earlier that day: Lourivan
Lourivan Hassad Pereira - 'Van' when he's dealing with gringos - woke up at midday, with the sun burning through the small dirty window of his bedroom. He's had a big night, is hungover and still tired but it's too hot to stay in bed. He runs his hands over his chest, sniffs his armpit. Jesus he needs to shower.
Taking the first step out of bed, some of yesterday comes back to him. Van works as a frentista - gas pump attendant. It's a job that's beneath him; he knows he deserves better and yesterday, his boss - the fucking clown - told him what to do one too many times. So at lunch time Van just walked. Leaving the gas station behind, he downed some beers at a corner bar. After that he called his bro, scored some powder. The evening was a satisfying, hazy mess of getting angry, getting high and getting off.
On the way to the bathroom Van stops to look at his phone messages: one from his boss telling him he's off, unpaid, for a week, possibly forever. His mano, bro, complaining that Van hasn't paid him for the coke and that he somehow got them kicked out of a club. An old school friend who's doing a lot better in life than him asking Van to come round and meet his wife and new baby. A smiley face from some pretty boy: Van squints at the profile pic and suddenly remembers his dick sliding between the boy's full lips in a dirty basement somewhere at the end of last night.
Van blocks all of them. They all just want a piece of him: his time, his cash, his body. Before he gets into the shower, he stops in front of the bathroom mirror, poses, flexes his wide shoulders, triceps and chest. He gropes his fat cock, breathes in his own pit stink again. He's the fucking man. Nobody gives him the respect he deserved.
Showered, he heads to the kitchen, shouts to his mother to get him some food, flicks through apps on his phone. The pair of Americans stand out on the hookup app: not too many foreign tourists in this town. Chris responds immediately to Van's "hi" with a cascade of photos.
Van flicks through the photos. The couple are older, but OK-looking: one picture especially is doing something positive to Van's dick. It shows Ryan, the smaller of the pair, pulling down his underpants to show off his plump ass. A perfect pure-white, round bunda like that is the one thing, sexually, that doesn't come often enough into Van's life.
Van had nothing else to do but he isn't in a good mood, doesn't know if he can be bothered, even for that nice ass. It's the opportunity for some high living that swings it. He isn't paying much attention to the detail of Chris's many messages but he certainly notices that the couple are staying in the city's best hotel. They are inviting him over now to meet them at the hotel's luxury beach resort, a few kilometers outside the city.
Chris and Ryan
An hour later, arrived at the resort, a waiter takes Van over to the Americans on their sunloungers. As he walks towards them, Van has a moment of relief that they're like their photos on the app. They're both in swim shorts, Chris, tall, tanned and toned; Ryan, short, square, fit, with Irish, freckled, pure white smooth skin.
Chris and Ryan look back at him.
The pair have ended up in this city, after Chris came out here to meet a client. He persuaded Ryan to vacation here with stories of the beach, the sun, the handsome men, and the opportunity they'd have to show off to their friends about the unusual destination.
And Chris needs a vacation. He's 41, active, always busy and ambitious. But lately his small company's been doing almost too well; he's ended up working too hard, ending the day feeling exhausted and old. Always a top in the bedroom, he's started to neglect Ryan: they've been together ten years but only in the last six months has the sex started to go stale.
So here in Brazil he's getting some sun, some rest, but Chris is going to kick start their sex life too. After all, he's a doer, makes things happen. They've had a few threesomes before, with gentle, versatile guys in their home town. In Brazil Chris's idea is to find a younger, fully top guy. Chris and the other guy will use Ryan's holes together, with Chris leading, of course. It will be fun for Ryan and partnering up with a younger guy will make Chris feel like an energetic stud again.
As he sees the waiter bring Van over to their sunlounger, Chris is pleased. Van is ideal for what he wants. The guy's young and - he knows from the app - hung. He's nicely over-muscled, but other than that not very impressive. He's shorter and less handsome in the face than Chris; he's already running a bit to fat. He's badly dressed, probably not too bright.
Chris grins, this will be an ideal, unproblematic holiday fuck for him and Ryan. He's excited to tell the Brazilian what he's got planned.
Van greets them slightly nervously as he's handed a menu, Chris casually telling the waiter, "This guy's on our check."
Everything about the beach resort is expensive. Even though a big part of the reason Van's come here is to briefly enjoy the American's wealthy lifestyle, his sour mood from this morning persists as he looks at the menu's high prices. The sandwiches cost more than he earns in an afternoon. He glances up at Ryan and Chris, pricing up their designer sun glasses and beach bags. All he has in life is one battered scooter, a cracked phone, and several outstanding debts. Why should these gringos have so much?
Van tries not to think about it. Anyway, he's only here to relax: the plan is they'll fuck later - that evening, in the hotel. Van orders food, and lies back on a sun lounger. He rolls up his t-shirt and undoes the top button on his tight jeans, revealing the exact point where his belly hair starts to turn into a thick pubic bush. He closes his eyes until his food arrives.
But he doesn't get to doze. Chris, obviously in charge, the richer one of the pair, wants to talk. Even though he must see Van's trying to rest, the man is telling him loudly about what he thinks they're going to do later in the bedroom together. Van's English isn't totally fluent and it's easy for him to not understand what Chris is saying. But the noise goes on and on.
After a few minutes and no sign of Chris stopping, Van - getting more and more grumpy - gives up, unscrews his eyes.
He cuts across Chris, "you wan' see how I am?"
He will show the Americans his body, and - fuck it - get a load out now. He's hungover horny, it will calm him down a bit. And perhaps, after giving them a show, Chris will shut the fuck up.
Without waiting for a reply he leads the pair to an empty changing room.
A private show
So here is Van, stripping for the American couple, about to let Ryan release his dick.
Van guides the smaller man's hands to slowly unzip his jeans. His dick falls heavily out: he's not wearing underwear and it juts out uncut from that dense, wiry bush of black pubes. It's a good length but its the thickness that Van knows is special.
He leans back against a wall and starts stroking himself. His body responds promptly and soon his dick is a wide as a can of soda, coarse veins pulsing and snaking down the heavy shaft, the head wide, broad and swollen. Ryan's eyes are open wide, unblinking, looking at it; Chris is stood further back also watching closely.
Generously, because really this is the Van show, he pauses, pulls Ryan forward to help out. The bottom guy looks back, wanting permission from his boyfriend; Chris nods as Van replaces his own hand on his cock with Ryan's.
Small and white, Ryan's hand looks good against the thick girth and brown skin of Van's meat.
Ryan nervously starts stroking. The warm feel of the thick iron hardness covered in its smooth veiny skin, the fact his hand barely reaches round it, the slight manly smell as the foreskin fully retracts: it's almost too much for Ryan. His whole body shakes. To keep him steady, Van has to reach forward, pin him down firmly with a hand on his shoulder.
After a couple of minutes Ryan's is relaxing slightly, starting to vary the pace as Van breathes heavily. The Brazilian runs his hand over the hair on his own belly and chest as this fit, short, pale-skinned guy services him. Van's cock starts to strains and dribble pre-cum.
Ryan builds the pace, not stopping now; the steady leak of pre-cum lubricating the hand-job, working up into a white froth in his little hand. After a few more minutes, Van grunts loudly, his body stiffens, closes his eyes. His big dick twitches. He angles his body at the last minute. Ryan feels the thick warm patter of strands of the man's load landing all over his bare white chest.
Van opens his eyes, gets his breath back. Ryan is not moving, watching him with big grey eyes, his chest covered in Van's porra, his cum. But it soon starts disappearing fast as the boy greedily scoops it off his chest and into his mouth. When that's done Ryan starts to move down to clean his cock. Van stops him, holds him by the hair.
"Is enough. You get more tonight." He's pretending to be stern, but is pleased, tonight is going to be fun. Just one thing to check. He pushes Ryan round in a circle. Yes, the round cheeks of Ryan's ass - well set off in tight, small nylon shorts - are as good as they looked in the pictures Chris sent him on the app.
The plan
Back on the sunloungers, Van has a bit more patience now he's relieved himself. He tells the Americans about how he speaks English: "Was one year, how you say, informal working, in Toronto. My pica nearly froze off. Was glad they kicked me back here."
He's also more ready to listen to what Chris has to say.
Chris is excited as he explains to Van - again - the type of fun he's thinking they can have in the bedroom.
"Yeah, so you and me, both tops, and I'm thinking tonight we work together on this hot little fucker." Chris reaches over, ruffles Ryan's hair.
"Start with us lining up having Ryan suck us both."
"Then you know when we're both good and ready we can take turns on his ass, every which way. You're a big guy - you're going to have to start slow - oh and use a condom - but when he's warmed up, Ryan can really go for it, can't you babe?"
Ryan, still tasting Van's cum in his mouth, just nods.
Chris finishes, "And if we have fun tonight, we can hang out the rest of the week, not just sex, you can take us cool places."
Van looks at Chris as he talks. Chris is in shape, toned. But the idea that Van would share a good piece of ass with him, like equals? It's never going to happen, the gringo is crazy.
But, at the same time, Van is now 100% certain that he wants Ryan's ass. It's a problem.
The conversation fades. Ryan lies back on the lounger, his skin already flaring to pink. Van gets a steak sandwich and swiftly demolishes it.
Chris, never able to sit still for long, goes to swim in the sea.
Ryan is more than intimated by Van's powerful, rough looking appearance. But with Chris gone, as they lie side by side, Ryan relaxes a bit. This time its his turn to talk at Van - about his job in a non profit, his girlfriends' love lives, the remodelling of his and Chris's home.
Van doesn't mind Ryan talking. He doesn't understand much of he says, but little fags like to chatter and it's OK background noise. Van grunts from time to time in response, closes his eyes a bit, sometimes scratches his balls.
Van orders Ryan to lie on his front and Ryan - enjoying being told what to do - shifts down his shorts as far as he can in public.to show Van his ass.
After half an hour or so, Ryan stands up to go to the bathroom. But as he lines up at the urinal he glances round to see Van has followed him, is standing close behind him.
The Brazilian, admiring again the bottom guy's pert ass, is imaging how white the skin must be in Ryan's buttcrack. He hooks his thick left arm round his neck, pulls him tight to him. He shoves his right hand deep down the back of the American's swim shorts. And breathes hot breath on Ryans neck. "Achou o seu macho, branquinho." "You found your man, little white boy."
Van runs his hands over the smooth globes of Ryan's ass, then works his finger into the warm crack.
He finds the ring, rubs around it, pushes into it enough to penetrate him slightly. Ryan is obviously not a virgin but he's going to be tight enough. Ryan gasps.
Van whispers into Ryan's ear. "This week only Van gonna have this pussy, branquinho. That clear?"
Ryan nods, unable to think, just submissive to the way he's being groped, the wiry hair of Van's muscled chest scratching tightly against his back. Van forces his finger deeper inside Ryan, at the same time as he flexes the swollen bicep of his left arm, still looped round Ryan's neck, squeezing the smaller man's throat.
"Yes, sir" gasps Ryan.
Ownership confirmed, Van lets him go, they head back to the loungers.
Soon after, Chris strides up the beach. "Hey Van I think me and Ryan better get back to the hotel. Need to rest up for this evening, right?" He grabs his crotch and grins.
The day at the beach clearly over, Ryan stands and heads to bathroom - he still needs to piss. Van stays lying on the lounger, arm behind his head, looking up lazily at Chris.
His plan for the evening, how he and Van are going to be tops together, runs through Chris's mind for the 100th time. But, somehow, Chris suddenly feels a bit unsure as he looks down at the younger man, with his muscular tattooed arms, hairy chest, jeans so tight the outline of his thick dick is clearly visible.
"So we're good for tonight, yeah? Play with Ryan like I said?"
Van smiles briefly at Chris, shrugs, "Sure."
Chris's plan is bullshit. Van already has a good idea of how he's going to get rid of Chris when he fucks Ryan this evening. But, more, he wants to be around for the rest of their stay as well: he wants a week of good living and screwing milky-white ass.
There's only one solution.
He will need to take it slow, work up to it, but Van will just have to own Chris too. And he knows he can do it: Chris might be rich, but there's a real beta stink about him. By the end of the week both these Americans are going to be fully under Van's control.
