“Andy, you old bastard, when did you get in?” Carl shrieked down the phone, obviously pleased to hear from me.
“Hey, enough of the old. I’m only thirty-three, the same as the rest of you guys,” I laughed. It was good to be back home after two years working in Europe.
“Where are you staying?” He continued over the top of me. “I know, come and stay with me until you can get yourself set up in a new apartment.”
I mentioned the name of the hotel I was staying at and he whistled his admiration. “Thanks for the offer but the firm is taking care of all that and I’ll be living in the lap of luxury for a while.” I was lying. The firm I worked for had nothing to do with my accommodation. I could afford to stay there on the salary I made but it wouldn’t pay to tell him that. Not a good idea to rub your success in a mate’s face.
“Nice severance package if they paid for your return trip plus your expenses for a week or two at a classy hotel.”
He was fishing for information but I wasn’t about to tell him there had been no severance because I still worked for a company that was not eager to let me go. That’s why they’d paid for me to come back. I was on holidays. I was here to scope out whether to move back permanently. I’d changed a great deal since I’d been away. I no longer saw my home country as a parochial backwater. I’d learned to appreciate what was fine about the country without shutting my eyes to its shortcomings. I’d also learned that no matter how wonderful a country or a city there was always a dark side, an underbelly.
But the biggest change in my life was that I had come home with a boyfriend.
I had left these shores a love atheist or at least a love agnostic believing that not everyone is cut out for relationships. I’m talking here about those loving monogamous relationships that some people put such great store by as a sign of emotional maturity. I thought I was one such man. I was wrong.
I returned a believer. Tito changed my mind and my beliefs. Now he was nervous as fuck about meeting my friends. I can’t say that I was much better, although he had less reason than me to be concerned. We had been together twenty-one months. In fact, I can tell you to the hour, almost to the minute and second, how long we’ve been this wonderful, soppy thing called a couple. That was the problem. We were going to a party thrown by Carl for my closest friends to welcome me back home and they had no idea that I was one half of a gay marriage because on all my Facebook postings I had never once mentioned Tito.
I felt bad about that as he continually nagged me over his non-existence in my official life. Not, however, bad enough to do something about it. Until now.
It was a different matter while I lived in Europe where he shared my apartment, traveling with me as my lover. We made no secret of our relationship, nor should we have even though a few olde-world types looked down their noses at us. Fuck ’em, I say. Grandpa, try joining the twenty-first century.
I’d accumulated six glorious weeks of holidays to spend in the land of my birth to see whether we still suited each other: perhaps I had changed or the country had changed so that we were incompatible. Plus we wanted to ensure ourselves that Tito would feel at home enough if we ever decided to return permanently, or if the economic downturn in Europe spiraled through the floor into that dark chasm of unemployment.
I hadn’t the guts to tell Carl on the phone. I believed I owed it to him and the other members of the Bachelors’ Brigade, as we dubbed our loosely knit group, to explain in person. I was a founding member of BB, sworn to be the implacable enemy of hetero normative behavior, especially that mawkish of all breeder humbuggery – love and marriage.
It was a big enough sin that I had fallen in love but Tito and I had indulged in the biggest transgression of all. We had married officially on our way through London. I had enough Brownie points of English forebears to qualify so we took advantage of it to solemnify our love. That was enough to get me hung, drawn, and quartered by the other members of the group whose motto was Fuck ’em and Dump ’em.
Others had stumbled and fallen over the years and had suffered terrible retribution at the hands of Carl, an implacable enemy of what he liked to call ‘feelings so unnatural and foreign to man as to be punishable by death.’ Not literal death but death by expulsion from the group and its moral, emotional, and financial support. Carl used every means available to him to separate any lovers who transgressed.
He was as zealous as a fundamentalist preacher in his condemnation that ‘love and marriage are against nature.’
Okay, so the paid-up members of BB had dwindled over the years to Carl, Denny, Newt, Otto, Roger, and Sanjay. Plus myself. The occasional guest was given honorary access but that was usually so the members could turn him into a sex slave to the group. Carl prided himself on the fact many of them had been the lovers of members expelled for breaking the rules.
You can see why I was worried. But Carl and I were best friends. We’d grown up together, gone to university together, done everything together including sharing our beds with a third or even more. We had never been lovers though under different circumstances we probably would have been. His adamant adherence to the rules was what finally drove me overseas in the first place. His single mindedness stifled me so that I found Europe a liberating experience. I quickly jettisoned the old rules and learned to live anew.
I hoped he would understand and be happy for me. If he wasn’t, I was determined enough that I would turn my back on my old friends permanently. My life now resided with Tito. I still hoped more than anything that I would be able to straddle both worlds.
Tito was not so sure and that’s why he was nervous as fuck as we drove toward the once run-down industrial area of the inner city where Carl had bought an old warehouse and converted it into a photographic studio and art gallery with living accommodation on the second floor. Carl was a photographer of some note who had captured the zeitgeist of the new gay millennium. His photographic studies of nude males, solo, pairs, and groups, changed hands for huge amounts. Out of all proportion to their real value, I would admit only to myself and only in private. They hung in some of the great galleries of the world.
Naturally, he had more explicit works which he kept for the amusement of his friends. Photographs taken at parties such as Tito and I were attending this very evening though I doubted he’d have his gear set up as he had no idea I was bringing a guest.
I wasn’t worried that Tito admired Carl’s art. He’d seen it in various art journals and large format coffee table books devoted to his work. I even had a number of his explicit works framed, adorning the walls of our Prague apartment.
Tito was no fool though. I’d explained Carl’s rampant sexual appetite, his constant need for variety, and the snare that his fame was to young impressionable minds and bodies. People were apt to mistake Tito’s faulty gasp of English which, after all, is his second language. It’s actually his sixth language but you get the idea. Sometimes he’s slower than others who are native speakers to grasp a concept and he is almost totally at sea about the manners and peculiarities of life outside Europe. Particularly the uncouth behavior of Antipodeans. I attempted to explain the lack of formality about Aussies and their blatant disregard for class but I think my stories about Carl and the BB group colored his opinion.
I’d hired a car for the duration of our stay so I could show Tito a little of the East Coast but it meant I wouldn’t be able to drink too much unless I wanted to chance being stopped by the breathalyzer cops. Tito was not much of a drinker, it tended to go straight to his head, although he’d probably want something to steady his nerves.
I knew my mates would love Tito. What’s not to like? He’s a hot stud. Good looking, hot body with a smooth six-pack you could do your washing on, and a personality that could be bottled because it’s even more bubbly than champagne. He makes friends easily because of his open, easy going nature. That’s what made it dangerous.
Carl was obviously an A-list celebrity now. In my absence, the outside of his warehouse home had been poshed up in a style that screamed success. I had been successful as well but not to this extent. Porn photography must sell and sell well. Who knew?
That was below the belt. The photographs weren’t simple porn, they did have artistic integrity and only a small portion of them were even close to being considered pornographic no matter whose definition you were using. The real heavy shit he kept locked away, far from the prying eyes of the morality police, hoping that tastes would change sufficiently one day that he could display it openly.
Taking a deep breath, giving Tito one last going over to ensure everything was in its proper place, I rapped using the old brass dragon that served as his doorknocker. He’d rescued it from a garage sale and it became the logo of his gallery which he called with his usual modesty, Carl’s Place.
I heard a whoop from upstairs and a head popped out the window screaming a greeting only to stop mid-screech, “He’s got someone with him.”
Carl wrenched open the door, his face beaming as he wrapped his strong arms around me almost crushing my ribs in a bear hug.
“You bastard, welcome back. Fuck it’s good to see you.” He held me at arm’s length and looked me over. “Yes, I do believe you’re better looking than ever.” He felt up my arms, my chest, and my butt. “Hmm, been working out too.”
While he was appraising me, I was doing the same to him. Success agreed with him. He was a remarkable looking man. Not exactly handsome but the way he dressed, the way he carried himself, gave him presence and the appearance of being better looking than he was. He was very pleasant on the eye but he wouldn’t stop traffic. Not like Tito. But what Carl lacked in looks he made up for in charm and that made for a lethal combination.
When Carl finally deigned to turn his attention to Tito, all he asked was, “Is this for me?”
It was the one trait I detested in Carl. The world revolved around him. He was the most selfish individual I had ever met which is why the Bachelors’ Brigade suited him.
I made the introductions adding the lie that ‘Tito and I met on the plane over and we hit it off so I thought I’d show him a bit of Sydney’s wildlife.’
Carl swept his arm around poor Tito, guiding him up the stairs to almost certain doom if I hadn’t been there. I was, of course, now thoroughly ignored. At least until I reached the top of the stairs to be swamped with hugs and backslaps from my friends. I wallowed in the warm welcome until my mates’ attention turned to the cute stranger in their midst. Over the next hour or so, the group chatted away loudly and ebulliently catching up on all the news and gossip from the past two years. It would have been excruciating for Tito except that early in the evening while I had been distracted with renewing friendships Tito had indulged until he was feeling quite numb. As a result, the guys were making it obvious that they were interested by pawing at his hot body, obvious in his close-fitting Polo shirt and his tight denim jeans.
Finally, Tito came to me, complaining, “They won’t leave me alone. They’re all grabbing at my ass, playing with my cock. Most of them have invited me to their place for the night. What am I going to do?”
I put my arm around Tito proprietorially. “Hey guys, can I have your attention for a moment. I want to make an announcement.” It was now or never. They formed a semi-circle in front of us. I let go of Tito to raise my glass. “To friendship and all my old mates. Never change.”
They mumbled as they raised their glasses, curious as to the real reason I’d called for their attention. They glanced between me and Tito.
“I have a confession to make.” A really big breath. “Tito here is my boyfriend. We were officially married in London on the way back home.”
We’d removed our wedding rings in the car but now we both had the courage to put them back on our fingers. There was stone cold silence. We all looked to Carl, the other members of the group to take their cue from him, Tito and I in preparation of fleeing if necessary.
It was as if the world paused on its axis until Carl made his decree. Surprisingly, it was favorable. He smiled, whooped loudly, which encouraged the others to join in, then said, “You devious bastard. So we’re not going to get to partake of Tito’s obvious charms tonight. That’s a bummer, but I couldn’t be more pleased. Really.”
“That went well,” Tito whispered in my ear.
I wasn’t buying it. Not yet anyway.
“Guys, Tito is a bit swamped by all the attention you’re paying him and as flattering as it is, he’s a little uncomfortable. Could you just take it down a notch?”
“Sure, mate,” Carl said. “Can’t we guys?”
They nodded their agreement but some of them looked decidedly pissed off that their chances with Tito had come to nothing.
“Keep in mind that English is Tito’s second language, he doesn’t understand a lot of the slang, and he’s not familiar with our customs. So give him a break, eh?”
Carl came over to us as everyone went back to boozing and bitching.
“Hey mate, I’m really, really, pleased for the two of you.”
“Thanks. I thought you might take it badly. Like in the past.”
“Nah, I think we’ve all matured over the years. Pity though, Tito is one cute little fucker.”
Before either of us could say anything, Carl clapped his hands to announce the food was laid out in the kitchen and we were to help ourselves.
We made a beeline to the table groaning with goodies. As I piled the succulent chicken and salad onto my plate I saw Tito sidle up to Carl. He whispered but it still carried to where I was standing, “You really think I am cute?”
“Fuck yeah,” Carl said.
“Then perhaps you would like to take my picture like the boys I see in books of your work.”
I groaned. Tito was such an innocent.
Carl raised his voice just loudly enough for me to hear. “I would love to take your picture, Tito. But only if Andy gives his approval.”
“Of course.”
I wondered at Tito being so taken in by Carl’s flattery.
They joined me, Tito looking about the table as if he’d lost something.
“The food not to your liking?” Carl asked.
“Yes,” Tito said quickly to assure him everything was okay. “I was just looking for party dips that Andy told me so much about. I was hoping to try them for myself.”
I almost choked on my food. The conversation around the table ceased and everyone waited for the explanation.
Carl laughed. “Not the sort of party dips you’d like, Tito, I’m sorry to say.”
“I like all sorts of food,” he said.
“It’s not exactly a food.”
“What is it then?”
Carl passed the buck to me. “Do you care to explain?”
“No, you’re doing an admirable job,” I smirked.
“Okay. Tito, we call the guy we gangbang at our parties the party dip.”
“Why?”
“Because we all dip our cock in his ass and fill him full of cream.”
Tito thought about it for a moment. Then his face turned crimson. “Oh.”
It just made him seem all the more charming.
Before we finished eating there was a cry of “There’s no more beer left” from Denny who was in the bathroom where the cans of Foster’s had been cooling in mounds of ice in the bath.
“You’ll just have to drink spirits then, won’t you?” Carl replied with a slight edge of irritation.
“No way, man,” Otto agreed. “It’s beer or I’m fuckin’ going home.”
Carl sighed and went to see for himself. He came back looking pissed. “You guys have drunk your weight in beer tonight. I can’t believe it.”
He ushered me aside. “Look, Andy. Can you do me a really big favor? The guys all caught a taxi here tonight because they wanted to get shit-faced for your return. You’re the only one with a car. Would you mind going to the bottle shop and bring back a dozen slabs.” He opened his wallet and peeled out the cash. “I’ll get Roger to show you where it is. Won’t take more than ten minutes. Fifteen tops. Oh, maybe a few more bags of ice as well.”
“Sure. I don’t mind.”
I didn’t like leaving Tito alone but the guys were treating him okay now and he seemed to enjoy talking about our life together and how we’d met. There was no hostility. After I’d explained to him what was going on, he assured me he would be fine so I grabbed Roger. The sooner we left the sooner we’d be back.
Or so I thought.
I reckoned without Roger’s stupidity. What with guiding me the wrong way down one-way narrow streets, getting lost, having an asthma attack so that we had to find an all-night chemist so he could get an inhaler, it was forty-five minutes before we returned. Carl greeted us with “We were just about to send out a search party,” which I found singularly unfunny.
I carried the boxes of beer just inside the door for others to carry upstairs. I called out that I had the last of them and the guys trudged back to the party. I closed the door and thought I’d take the opportunity to snoop. I found exactly what I expected in an alcove just off his studio. A mountain of beer slabs. There’s been no need to go to the pub at all.
Tito looked a little flushed but otherwise unharmed. “You okay?” I asked.
“Fine. Carl took my photo while you were out. I couldn’t ask you but I knew you would not object,” he said confidently.
“In fact,” Carl beamed, “I was going downstairs to load them so we could all take a look later. That okay.”
“Yes please,” Tito said like an excited child.
“Meanwhile, if you guys wouldn’t mind putting away the food…”
“I’ll do it,” Tito volunteered.
“Let me help you,” Sanjay said.
They were gone mere minutes before there was a loud scream from the kitchen. We all raced over, fearing the worst. It was a relief then that it was merely Tito, his clothes covered in sauce from one of the dishes which either he or Sanjay had spilled on him. Deliberately?
Sanjay was attempting to mop it up with paper towels which only made it worse.
“Stop. Stop, Sanjay,” Carl called.
“I’m so sorry,” Sanjay wailed. “I’m so clumsy. I’ll pay for your clothes. They’re ruined.”
“Quick, strip them off, Tito. I’ll put them through the washing machine and dryer and they’ll be like new in no time.”
Without thinking, Tito removed his shirt to the obvious stares and whistles of admiration from his audience. Carl took it from him.
“Your jeans. Quickly.”
Tito removed his shoes and socks, then peeled his tight jeans down, pulling them inside out to remove them. His tight briefs were also stained.
“Those too,” Carl commanded.
“But…” Tito said.
“Hold on. I’ll get you something to wear from my wardrobe,” Carl called as he disappeared into his bedroom emerging a few minutes later with a pair of the daggiest undies I’d ever seen. Tito would be able to swim in them. I noticed that was the only article of clothing Carl brought with him.
Tito was out of his stained briefs and into the daggy baggies in no time flat although everyone gawked at his cock and especially his butt as he stripped. Carl handed me the clothes. “You know where the machine is. I’ll go and set up downstairs. You can join us there. Movie time, guys!”
There was a buzz of excitement and I rushed to put the clothes on for washing before hurrying to join the others. A widescreen TV dominated the room and a comfortable old sofa had been drawn up in front of it. Carl had his laptop hooked up to the large monitor and was fiddling with one of the programs. Tito sat next to him and Roger was on the other side. Denny was beside Carl. There was obviously no room for me.
Newt, Sanjay and Otto sat on cushions leaning back against the coffee table. They’d saved a space for me between them.
“Switch the light off, Andy, and we’re ready,” Carl said.
I plunged the room into near darkness making my way to my seat by the illumination from the TV screen.
Carl showed some of his latest work which none of the group had seen, giving a running commentary as he went revealing far too much personal information about each model. I had to admit the quality of his work had increased enormously.
About five minutes into the screening I heard gurgling sounds from behind me and wondered what was up. I tried to turn to see but I was hemmed in by the guys on either side and the room was too dark. If I didn’t know better I would have sworn it sounded like someone was sucking cock.
I was impatient for the photos of Tito but Carl seemed in no hurry to show them. Worried about what was going on back on the sofa, especially as Tito was just about naked, I was relieved when he leaned forward over the coffee table to speak to me as the photos were changed.
“You okay, back there?” I asked.
He sort of grunted and shunted forward on the coffee table. Then Tito’s face appeared on the screen. Carl had really captured him. It was a breathtaking study.
“That is so beautiful,” I said in admiration.
Tito must have been really excited because he was moving about on the coffee table like he couldn’t contain himself.
Carl was obviously a little overwhelmed by how well his photos had turned out because his commentary became quite breathless as he extolled Tito’s virtues as a model.
I wasn’t quite as happy with the pictures when Tito appeared totally naked.
“It’s all right,” Tito whispered. “Nothing happened.”
I soon got used to seeing my boyfriend totally nude on the big screen for all my mates to ogle. After all, the shots were artistic. Not so the next one in which Sanjay was waving his bronze Indian cock in Tito’s face.
“What?” I yelled.
“It’s all right,” Tito repeated. “Nothing happened.”
And for the next few photos, indeed it didn’t. Then came one in which Tito had his lips wrapped around that magnificent cock.
“Hold on,” I said. “What’s going on here?”
Tito was puffing as his body moved back and forth on the coffee table. “Carl explained that just putting your mouth around some man’s cock was not being unfaithful. Especially if it meant nothing. That’s right, isn’t it?”
There was no use causing a rumpus, so I agreed although in the following pictures the look on Sanjay’s face was little less than euphoric. Finally, there was a photo of Sanjay withdrawing with what looked like a long string of cum attached from Tito’s lips to the end of Sanjay’s cock.
Next was a photo of Tito smiling for the camera, a puddle of spunk in his wide open mouth.
“Holy fuck!” Carl exclaimed, his breath coming in bursts. Tito bumped on the coffee table a few times then lay still.
“You’re not going to tell me that’s not being unfaithful, are you?” I said to Tito.
“That was an accident,” he said. “Don’t be so uptight. Sanjay had his cock in my mouth for so long while Carl changed the film that he got too excited and you can see what happened.”
“You use a digital camera, right Carl?” I asked.
“Yep,” he replied smugly.
“And what did you do with all that cum in your mouth?” I enquired.
“Carl told me it was impolite not to swallow in Australia,” Tito said proudly.
“Otto, why don’t you swap places with Roger? You get a better view from up here,” Carl said, ignoring the ominous growl in my throat.
There was a bit of shuffling around while they swapped before Carl went on with the showing. Different cock in Tito’s mouth. This time it was Newt’s. Same result. Tito was getting agitated again and began moving on the coffee table, panting. I guess he was turned on watching himself on the screen.
We went through photos of Carl and Otto with their cocks in Tito’s mouth, culminating in a mouthful of spunk shot in graphic close-up.
“Carl had to change his digital camera film a lot, did he?” I asked sarcastically.
“He took so many pictures,” Tito agreed.
There was a difference when Otto slipped his cock into my boyfriend’s mouth. Tito was on all fours and Newt was kneeling behind him aiming his very impressive cock at Tito’s ass.
Tito hissed, “You said you wouldn’t show these.”
Carl’s reply was a simple, “I lied.”
“It wasn’t being unfaithful, Andy. He was just going to put his cock inside me and then Carl would take a photo. It wasn’t real sex.”
As we discussed the finer points of fidelity, the game of musical chairs continued as each member of the group got a turn on the lounge, Tito still spread over the coffee table.
“Let me guess what happens,” I said, scarcely containing my anger. “Carl had to change his…uh…digital film and it took so long, Newt couldn’t control himself and he shot his load in your ass.”
“Something like that,” Tito said, grunting as if he didn’t care for the conversation.
Photo after photo now showed Tito being fucked front and back, culminating in Tito on his back pulling his ass cheeks apart to show his fuckhole spooged and running with slime. The smile on his face certainly gave the lie to his not enjoying it.
One by one they took a turn at him and the bottom fell out of my stomach.
Then, suddenly, it was my turn to sit on the sofa.
Tito was spread over the coffee table and Denny had his cock embedded in my boyfriend’s ass, fucking him. Carl switched on the lights so I could watch them defile my lover, not that Tito was putting up any objections. In fact, now that everything was out in the open he was actively encouraging Denny to fuck him harder. I had to admit for all the emotional pain it was causing me to see my Tito fucked live in front of me as well as on the wide screen TV, I was turned on.
Carl got in my face. “You stupid, cunt, Andy. Did you honestly think there wouldn’t be reprisals if you came back with a fuckin’ boyfriend?”
His face was so lethal he was spitting over me as he spoke. “You know what we do to boyfriends and now we’ve done it to yours and we’ll keep doing it all night thanks to a little tablet called Viagra. Your sweet little Tito will be nothing but a cum dump when we get through with him. He won’t want you anymore. I’m sure you won’t want used goods either. His ass will be so wide open you won’t even touch the sides if you fuck him again. But I don’t think you’ll bother. If you renounce him here and now, Andy, we’ll let you join in.”
“Fuck off, Carl,” I spat.
“Andy, Andy, Andy. What are we gonna do with you. See…” Just then, Newt screamed obscenities as he dumped a load. Sanjay quickly took his place.
“Fuck my ass,” Tito screamed. “Make me feel your cock. Slam me into the floor!”
“See Andy, all men are sluts. They live for sex. It’s the only true emotion in life. The pursuit of orgasm. Tito knows that now so wake up to yourself. Join us.”
“Not in a million years.”
“There’s no such thing as love, Andy. Only fucking.” So saying, Carl pushed Sanjay aside and buried his own cock in Tito’s gaping slimy asshole. It was a sight to behold as Sanjay went around to Tito’s face and slammed his slimy cock in his mouth, fucking his throat until he gagged.
Carl kept up the propaganda as he fucked Tito but it made no difference, I would not change my opinion. The photos had continued on rotation so I was continually confronted by Tito’s betrayal while the guys around me were stroking their cocks and Carl finally exploded in his ass.
“How do you feel now, Tito,” Carl said grabbing his face and turning it toward me.
“Like I could take on a dozen more guys,” he said.
“Oh, you will by the time we’ve finished with you. What do you intend doing, Andy?” Carl sneered.
“I think I’ll head back to the hotel and get some sleep. Wait for Tito.”
“I think you’ll be waiting a long time.”
Tito lay on the floor, his face bruised from the fucking it had received and his ass oozing spunk.
“Look at him, Andy. A fuckin’ slut. Nothing but a boycunt. You want that in your life? Never knowing what he gets up to behind your back?”
“I’ll be waiting for him at the hotel.”
Carl played his ace. “Tito? You want to go back to the hotel and to the boring married life with Andy?”
“No fuckin’ way.”
“You want to stay here with us and be our sex slave?”
“Yeah,” he replied, smiling dreamily. “Told you they were all worthless sluts, Andy[DC1] . But you wouldn’t believe me.”
I stood to leave.
“Don’t go yet. Tito wanted party dip. We made him the party dip but we also made him a really creamy version as well. Right guys?”
They laughed. Newt held out a glass of spooge.
“Here you go, Tito. Try this party dip for taste and texture. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Carl then got one of his nasty ideas. “I’ll tell you what. If you want to go back to the hotel and to Andy in the morning then just put the party dip down. If you want to stay here and become our regular party dip yourself then seal the bargain by drinking it all down.”
Tito didn’t even hesitate. He lifted the glass of spooge to his lips and poured it down his throat, swallowing every drop, even licking the dregs out of the bottom of the shallow glass as the guys hooted their appreciation. Then he looked at me and licked his lips. As if in final confirmation that he had changed sides, he removed his wedding band and held it out to me.
Despondently I took it and without uttering another word headed for the stairs followed by the catcalls and heckles of my former friends who were once again preparing to bugger the shit out of Tito.
I slumped against the rail as I went downstairs and then out the front door into the street. I staggered along the block until I was out of sight of the warehouse then my steps changed. My stride gained more confidence, I began to whistle so that by the time I reached the car I was cheerfulness itself.
As the engine roared to life and I pulled out into the traffic I realized I’d need to sterilize the ring before I gave it back to Tito who was probably curled up asleep in bed back at the hotel. I hoped the boy I’d hired to take Tito’s place for the night was enjoying his gangbang. He said he liked quantity over quality. In this case, he was getting both. I’d paid him well to keep his mouth shut but the secret would be out soon enough.
By that stage, Tito and I would be well and truly gone. As anticipated, my mates hadn’t changed. But I had. I believed it was for the better. I now had a loving relationship. Carl and his mates had…I shrugged. I didn’t care what they had.
At the hotel, I kissed Tito and climbed into bed spooning the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Only occasionally did I wonder what would have happened had I taken the real Tito to that party with me.
