Date: 2017-08-24 04:00:00+00:00

Cherbourg Boy

A Hustler’s Story
by

Henri Couesnon

Copyright © 2017 Henri Couesnon

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Published by: Henri Couesnon

Cover design by: Muzio Scaevola

Table of Contents

Author’s Introduction

Chapter One:  Voleur and Violeur

Chapter Two: Forced Entry

Chapter Three: Strip Club

Chapter Four: By the Hour

Chapter Five: Paying the Pimp

Chapter Six: Sailor’s Delight

Chapter Seven: Open for Business All Night

Chapter Eight: Reunited

Also by Henri Couesnon

Author’s Introduction

In the year 2000, the city of Cherbourg became Cherbourg-Octeville. In 2006, it was renamed again, as Cherbourg-en-Cotentin. These hyphenated names don’t exactly roll off the tongue, and surely many residents of the maritime city can be forgiven when they persist in calling their home just plain Cherbourg

I’ve dutifully typed in “Cherbourg-en-Cotentin” the first time the city’s name is mentioned in Chapter One of this book, but elsewhere I’ve reverted to the simpler old name. After all, Cherbourg-en-Cotentin Boy, however accurate, would make for a rather unwieldy title.

Whatever one chooses to call it, Cherbourg is a seaport with a long and fascinating history. There’s a lot to see and do there. But it’s not among the first two or three destinations which a traveler is likely to think of, when planning a visit to France. That’s a shame, and so—by way of an unsolicited testimonial!—I’ll made a sincere plug here, encouraging tourists who are planning a lengthy stay in France to think about spending a day or two in Cherbourg. As a further enticement, one can sample some fine Normandy cuisine there.

In recent years, the city has made an effort to clean up its once-notorious waterfront, both literally and from a moral standpoint. But it’s still possible for an adventurous visitor to get into trouble there, if you catch my drift. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then some of the incidents described in this book should enlighten you.)

The protagonist of this book, whom I’ve rechristened “Luc,” is based on a good friend of mine, who grew up in Cherbourg. Like me, he was kind of wild in his youth. The only difference between us was that I was born and grew up in the equally rough seaport of Marseille. Also like me, Luc became more responsible and respectable later on. (Well—sort of!)

My home town of Marseille is, like Cherbourg, a busy port of call, and its inhabitants and visitors are subject to the same sorts of temptations.

Luc’s tales of his wayward youth provided the raw material for this book. When I showed Luc the completed manuscript, his reaction was, “Henri, this may be your raunchiest book yet!”

“Ah—is that a good thing, or a bad?” I asked my buddy, uneasily.

“Good, of course. What else?”

“Well, even though I’ve changed the names, this is your story,” I reminded him. “Some of your friends back home in Cherbourg might recognize you.”

“I hope they do.” Luc gave me a sly, knowing look. “I’ve never pretended to be a saint. And neither, mon ami, have you!”

Chapter One:  Voleur and Violeur

One of the prison’s guards escorted Luc to the intake desk, where another guard was on duty, seated behind a grille. Luc had already, under the first guard’s stern gaze, stripped naked and then exchanged his inmate’s jumpsuit for the clothes he’d worn when he’d first entered the prison, two months previously. His own clothes felt oddly unfamiliar against his skin, at first. The two prison employees now exchanged their paperwork and fussed over it for what seemed to Luc an eternity, while he waited, impatiently.

Finally, though, they were satisfied. The guard manning the desk pushed a sealed manila envelope through the narrow gap between the bottom of the grille and the countertop.

“Here’s your belongings,” the guard told Luc, gruffly. Luc tore open the envelope and pocketed the few items it contained—a wallet, keys, a wristwatch, his cell phone, a pocket handkerchief, and some coins. “Sign here, acknowledging you’ve received them,” the guard said, producing a form. “All right,” the guard said, when this business was concluded. “There’s the door. Out you go, and let’s hope we don’t see you in here again.”

Luc headed toward the door. “Thanks for your fucking hospitality, you assholes,” he muttered, sarcastically, under his breath.

But the guards had heard him. “That kind of attitude, and that smart mouth of yours,” the one who’d escorted Luc said, “is what’s gotten you into so much trouble while you were in here. Now, move your ass, punk. I’m sick of the sight of you. We all are. Get lost!” He paused, before delivering a final shot. “Loser!” he jeered.

Luc went through the door. He found himself outdoors, on the street, outside of Cherbourg-en-Cotentin’s prison.

He was free, after having served a sixty-day stretch for theft inside the facility. Two whole months of his life gone! Now he was free again. But he was also alone, forced to fall back upon his own resources, and he was decidedly impecunious. Furthermore, his immediate options were severely limited.

While he was incarcerated, he’d lost his crummy job, because of course his employer had to hire someone else to replace him. He’d lost his equally crummy room in a boarding house, too. Luc had asked his long-suffering parents, who lived in one of Cherbourg’s suburbs, to pay his rent while he was incarcerated, so the landlord would hold the room for him. To Luc’s astonishment and disappointment, they’d refused. They had agreed to store his few belongings in their house. But then, when Luc was due to be released, they’d refused to let him come home and stay there—not even for a few days. They would continue to store Luc’s belongings, they told him, until he found himself a job and a new place to live, but they weren’t going to allow their wayward son to sleep under their roof—not even for one night. Luc was likely to be a bad influence on his younger brother, who still lived at home, his parents said.

So there Luc was, out on the street, with virtually nothing except the clothes on his back. His outfit consisted of jeans, undershorts, socks, training shoes, a belt, a tank top style undershirt, and a long-sleeved beige linen shirt.

He now discovered that his damn phone didn’t even work, because the bill hadn’t been paid during his incarceration. He was well and truly screwed!

Luc began to walk, without any specific goal yet in mind, although instinctively he headed north, toward the city’s harbor and the sea—the English Channel, to be precise. It was a hot summer day, and he soon took off his shirt and tied its sleeves in front of him, securing the garment around his waist.

He was a handsome young man, who as he trudged along became the object of some admiring glances from the pedestrians he passed—none of whom, of course, was aware of his criminal past or his pessimistic present state of mind. Two months of pumping iron in the prison’s gym had done wonders for his physique. He’d bulked up, impressively, but he was also ripped, with little excess body fat. Luc had sandy blond hair with a hint of a curl to it, green eyes, and, because he tended to be negligent about shaving, a habitual facial dusting of beard stubble.

During his stay in the slammer, Luc, like the other prisoners, had been allowed to shave only under a guard’s supervision. The disposable plastic razors were confiscated immediately after use. It was only one of the many daily humiliations Luc had endured.

His ordeal had begun on the very first day of his incarceration.

His cellmate was a huge brute of a man, a bodybuilder with bulging, pumped up muscles. His name was Roland, but no one ever called him that. The other inmates, and even the guards, invariably addressed him, or referred to him, by his rather ominous-sounding nickname, which was Perceur [i.e., Piercer]. Heavily tattooed, Perceur had coarse facial features, including an imperfectly healed broken nose, which might be considered sexy by the kind of guys who liked their men to be rough-edged.

“Fresh fish for you, Perceur,” the guard had announced that first day, when he opened the cell door and pushed Luc through it.

Perceur gave Luc a searching, penetrating look. “Um, pretty,” he growled. “Sweet!”

“We thought you two would be perfect cellmates,” the guard said, as he slid the door closed and locked it. “Well suited to each other. The thief and the rapist.” [Author’s note: in French, this is a play on words, on voleur and violeur.] “Get acquainted, you two—and enjoy yourselves,” the guard added, mockingly, as he strode away. “But when you do, keep the noise down.”

Luc stood there in the cell and looked at Perceur, warily.

“That lousy screw was kidding, wasn’t he? You aren’t really a rapist, are you?” he asked.

“Not when I’m on the outside,” Perceur replied, casually. “And I’ve never fucked a woman in my life. Never had any desire to. But I’ve always had plenty of men chasing after me. I may be big and ugly, but some guys like that. In here, though, it’s different. I’m the top dog on this cell block. The other cons do what I say. And I guess I do have a certain reputation, for breaking in the young punks like you.”

“Well, I don’t need any breaking in,” Luc blustered. “So don’t you start getting any funny ideas. I just want to do my time, and then get the hell out of here—in one piece. You keep your distance from me, dude, and we’ll get along just fine.”

Perceur grunted. “Feisty, are you? I like that. But we’ll see how feisty you still are tonight, after lights out.” Nonchalantly, Perceur placed the palm of his big hand onto the crotch of his prisoner’s jumpsuit. He began to rub and squeeze his genitals through the coarse cotton fabric. “My last cellmate, the guy who just got released yesterday, was a damn homely motherfucker,” he said, with a leer. “Ugly as sin! I wanted to put a bag over his head, every time I fucked him. He did have a nice meaty man’s ass, though, and that’s what counts in here. You’re a big improvement. You’re so damn pretty, I could just eat you up! I bet that sweet hole of yours will help to pass the time.”

“You can go to hell, you fucking pervert!” Luc exclaimed. “You aren’t going to touch me.”

“You think not? Don’t make me laugh, boy. Calm down, sweet cheeks. We’ll get along just fine, once you realize who’s in charge here. A hint, boy—it sure as hell isn’t you!” Perceur guffawed with laughter. “Damn, am I going to enjoy breaking you in, tonight! I’m going to bust your ass, and break it in, but good. You’re going to be my submissive little bitch, and you’re going to learn to love it. Get ready to give it up to a real man, pussy boy.”

After lunch in the mess hall, the convicts had a recreational period. Perceur went off to the gym to work out with his buddies—most of whom, Luc saw with growing alarm, were every bit as hulking and menacing as Perceur himself. Glaring at Luc, these bruisers didn’t hesitate to make sexually suggestive remarks.

“You nailed him yet, Perceur?” one muscle man asked, as he ogled Luc.

“No, I’m saving that for tonight,” Perceur said. “It’s going to like having a second dessert.”

“You must be slipping, motherfucker. If he was my cellmate, I’d have shoved him up against the wall and slammed my dick up his ass, by now!”

“Yeah, look at that boy’s round little, cheeky ass,” another pumped-up behemoth growled. “And that pretty cocksucking mouth! Can I have him when you’re done with him, Perceur?”

“The punk’s going to be my bitch, for as long as I want him,” Perceur decreed. “So back off, you bastards. He’s my property.”

“Sure, Perceur, no problem,” yet another convict bodybuilder said, hastily. “Don’t get all bent out of shape, big guy. We were just kidding. None of us is going to horn in on your territory. Come on, men, let’s go pump some iron.”

Luc lost no time before he sought out the nearest guard.

“I have to see the warden,” Luc said. “Right now!”

“What for?” the guard asked.

“I have a problem. Well, it’s a complaint, really.”

“A complaint! What the hell do you think this is, a five-star hotel, where the manager is going to kiss a guest’s ass? The warden can’t be bothered with a punk like you. And making trouble on your very first day in here—not a smart way to start off.”

“Listen, you have to put me in another cell, with some other guy,” Luc begged. “That dude Perceur—he’s an animal.”

“Can’t disagree with you there. But right now he’s a tame animal, in a cage,” the guard said, cynically. “Like the rest of you scum.”

“He’s already threatened to rape me. In so many words. What’re you going to do about it?”

If Luc hoped for sympathy, he was bitterly disappointed. The guard responded with a shocking nonchalance.

“What am I going to do about it? Nothing, punk. You’re going to get raped by the big guy? So what? You’ll probably enjoy it. I’ve seen the fucker in the showers. He’s hung like a horse. There are cons in here who’d kill for a chance to be his boyfriend.”

“You aren’t going to help me?” Luc asked, incredulously.

“Hell, no. What do you think goes on in here? Guess you’ll soon find out. You young, dumb first-time punks—you’re up for grabs. The dirty older cons are all over you. Your holes are nothing but cum dumps for them.”

“Shit, I don’t believe this—!”

“Listen, kid,” the guard told Luc, impatiently. “We’re actually doing you a favor, having you bunk with Perceur. The other cons are scared shitless of him. And he’s the jealous type. If he likes you, if you put out for him and keep him happy, then he’ll protect you from those other horny bastards. You choice is, you can have one cock up your ass, or everybody’s cock. So wise up, and do it fast, if you want to survive in here. Now, get the hell away from me. I can’t be bothered.”

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, and the evening, Luc grew increasingly panic-stricken.

Finally, what Luc had been dreading came about. He was locked up for the night with Perceur.

“You play chess?” Perceur asked.

“Yes,” Luc said.

“Good.” Perceur had a little chess set, the portable kind in which the pieces were magnetized and thus held on the squares on the board.

Luc won.

“Well played,” Perceur grunted.

“You’re a good loser,” Luc said.

“When it comes to games, yeah. When it comes to sex, maybe not so much. Then, I like to win. Even if I have to cheat.”

“You act tough, dude,” Luc suggested, grasping at straws. “But really—!”

“Really, what?”

“I’m sure you’re a nice, decent guy,” Luc said, desperately. “You just put on that rough act, to survive in here. Don’t you?”

“Oh, it’s no act. I am rough and tough, baby,” Perceur assured him. “As you’ll soon find out.”

Inside the small cell were two bunks, a sink, a toilet, and shelves to hold the occupants’ few possessions. There was so little open floor space that the occupants had to be careful when moving about, to avoid collisions—a problem exacerbated by Perceur’s size. There was nothing modest or shy about Perceur. After the chess game, he stripped naked and lounged on his bunk. Luc felt even more intimated after his first glimpse of the big man’s nude body. In addition to his muscles, he was hairy and tattooed all over. And, just as the guard had so flippantly informed Luc, Perceur was exceptionally well-endowed.

Luc now guessed the origin of the guy’s nickname. Perceur had multiple body piercings. Earlobes, nipples, navel—all had heavy gauge surgical steel rings inserted in them. His uncut penis had a Prince Albert piercing in its head, with another thick ring threaded through the hole. And finally, when Perceur spread his legs and reached down to scratch his groin, the gesture exposed his perineum muscle, which was also pierced and ringed—the kind of piercing which, Luc knew, was called a guiche.

Luc felt a need to make some conversation.

“Ah—all those piercings—?” he began to ask.

“Yeah? Like them?”

“They’re kind of extreme. The ones below the waist, I mean. But—I thought we weren’t allowed to wear jewelry in here.”

“Most guys aren’t. They took mine away, too, the first time I did a stretch in here,” Perceur explained. “They said the hardware could be removed and used as a weapon, which is a lot of bullshit. I had my lawyer sue their asses off. Said it violated my right to personal expression. Won the case. Too bad my lawyer isn’t that good at helping me beat a rap! Anyway, when I got sent up this time, they didn’t even bother to ask me to take my rings out.” Perceur looked at his new cellmate. “It’s hot and stuffy in here—as usual. Don’t you want to strip down and try to cool off?”

“I’ll wait until it’s time to go to bed,” Luc said, uneasily.

Perceur shrugged his huge shoulders. “Suit yourself, pretty boy. I can wait.”

“Now, listen,” Luc said. “This rape shit—it’s all very well and good, as a joke. But when it comes right down to it, I know you won’t go through with it.”

“Oh, you know that, do you? And what do you base that on?”

“You’re not such a bad guy, at heart.”

Perceur let out a bull-like snort. “God, you’re naïve!” he exclaimed. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

Bedtime arrived all too quickly.

The lights went out, plunging the cells into darkness, except for whatever light penetrated into them through the bars from the corridor outside.

“There we go. It’s bedtime,” Perceur announced.

“Yeah,” Luc said. “You stay in your bunk, and I’ll stay in mine.”

“Kind of ballsy, aren’t you? Ordinarily, I don’t like it, when punks mouth off to me. What are you going to do for me, so I should make an exception for you?”

“I’m not going to do anything for you.”

“We’ll see. You aren’t stupid, like some of the punks in here. You know you can’t possibly take me, if it comes to a fight. So you’re smart enough not to take a beating for nothing. Aren’t you?”

“What—what’re you saying, exactly?” Luc stammered.

“I’m saying, you’re going to get fucked. Whether you get beat up first, maybe really bad, or whether you just give in and take it, boy—that’s up to you.”

“Shit,” Luc muttered. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Who’s going to stop me? You want to give it a try? You want that beating? Unless you do, go ahead and strip. Get naked, punk. Let’s see that dick, and that pretty ass. They’re going to be my property, from now on. For as long as you’re in here. Yeah, your hole is mine! Give it up.”

“Guard!” Luc shouted. “Guard, come here! Help! Whoever’s out there, come help me!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Perceur advised him. “If you know what’s good for you, punk—!”

“Rape! Oh, my God! This dirty son of bitch, here in the cell with me! He’s raping me! Help! Guard, somebody, help! Get him off me! Help!”

Perceur’s big hand suddenly clamped over Luc’s mouth, silencing him.

“Bitch,” Perceur growled, “the next time you yell for that guard, I swear to Christ it’ll be the last thing you ever say on this earth. You’re mine. My property. Now, you get your clothes off, or you’ll get them ripped off. And then you’ll get your ass beaten up and bruised. You decide.”

“Aw, shit!” Luc cried, his voice muffled by the hand covering his mouth. “Come on, man! Come on, big guy. Don’t hurt me. I don’t have any money. But my family has. They’ll pay you, I’m sure. They’ll pay you whatever you want, if you’ll just let me alone. Please!”

“Don’t need your goddamn money,” Perceur jeered. “No—I just want, I just need, your sweet young ass! I’m hard up, bitch, and I need to stick my horny dick in some guy’s hole. And you’re elected, boy! Take it. Take it right now, unless you want me to beat the shit out of you. Come on, strip. Get naked. I’m not fooling around. Do it! Now!”

Trembling, thoroughly cowed, Luc undressed.

“Don’t hurt me,” he pleaded.

“That’s up to you. Now, get on that bunk. On your back. With your legs spread, and up in the air, like a whore, ready for me to take you. You’re going to do everything I damn well tell you to do, okay?”

“Sure,” Luc gasped. “Just calm down. Just don’t hurt me. You’re scaring me—!”

“Yeah, bitch, I can smell the fear, coming out of you, oozing out of your pores, just like sweat,” Perceur gloated. “And you know what? It turns me on. It makes my cock hard. Punk, you’re going to get fucked—!”

Chapter Two: Forced Entry

Luc lay on Perceur’s bunk, and the big man climbed on top of him, taking Luc in his arms and embracing him, so violently that the breath was squeezed out of Luc’s lungs by those powerful, clasping arms. Perceur’s mouth crushed against Luc’s lips with bruising force, his thick tongue driving itself deep between them.

“Usually I like to play around a little, and lead up to it gradually,” Perceur declared, after kissing Luc lustfully several times. “Tonight I’m just too damn worked up, too fucking horny. I think we’d better move on right to it.”

There was no doubt in Luc’s mind about exactly what “it” was, and he shivered at the thought of taking that big pierced cock up his ass.

“You’re going to have to use something to lube it up with,” Luc insisted. “I’m not going to be able to take that thing of yours dry, or with just spit.”

“Don’t worry. I have what we need right here.”

From the shelf above the bunk, Perceur took down a container of petroleum jelly.

“I buy this in the commissary,” he explained, with a smirk. “I need it to keep my skin moisturized and my face looking young and pretty,” he joked. “Like yours—”

“Use plenty,” Luc urged.

“What do you think this is, my first time doing this? That’s a laugh! Hey, you aren’t a virgin, are you?”

“No, but I don’t want to be torn apart. And aren’t you going to take that ring out of your dick?”

“No, why should I? Every guy I’ve fucked has told me it makes it feel hotter.” As he spoke, Perceur was busy smearing the petroleum jelly over his stiff cock.

“Jesus—!” Luc moaned, in apprehension.

“Okay, this first time, I think we’ll try doing it with you on your back and your legs up in the air,” Perceur announced, with an incongruous, almost clinical, objectivity and detachment. “Later on, we can go through all the other positions, and decide which ones we like best. Come on, boy, get your legs up, over my shoulders. That’s right. Oh, yeah! Just look at that pretty ass of yours, waiting for me! Yeah, that’s a sweet little, tight looking hole!”

“Wait,” Luc pleaded. Even at this late stage, the blond boy thought that, if he stalled for time, he might be able to think up some way of dissuading his brutish assailant.

“Can’t wait. Punk, I want you. I want that cute little stud body of yours. And especially that ass! I want it—I need it—and I need it bad!”

Luc tried to shove the big man away from him, tried to resist, but it was already too late. He whimpered in fright when he felt Perceur’s prickhead nudge itself against his asshole pucker. Next he felt Perceur lunge forward with his big, muscular body, and the thick, swollen head of his greasy cock began to push its way inside his ass. Sure enough, Luc could feel the bump of the Prince Albert ring, indenting his sphincter at the point of contact for a moment.

“Don’t. Perceur, please! Don’t! Not yet. Please don’t try to fuck me, I’m not ready to take that big thing of yours yet. No—!” Luc begged.

“Shut the fuck up. Who do you think you’re kidding?” Perceur scoffed. “You’ve been screwed before. Plenty of times. I can tell. Slut! Open up and take my cock!”

Resigned to his fate, Luc knew it was useless to protest, or to try to fight Perceur off. The man was already inside Luc, and there was no way the boy was going to get Perceur’s cock out of his violated ass until the man had finished fucking him. Luc could tell that much from the look of grim, lustful determination on his rapist’s face, from the steely power of his hands which pinned Luc’s arms down flat on the mattress, and above all from the steady, fierce penetration of his cock. That long, thick, rigid phallus was drilling its way deep into Luc’s body, taking him, claiming and using his cringing, instinctively resisting ass.

The pain, at first, was almost unbearable. Perceur was hung so big! His dick felt so thick—so long! So hard! So ruthless and brutal as it screwed its way deeper and deeper into his ass!

“Oh, hell, rape!” Luc yelled, losing his head. “Somebody, please, for God’s sake, help me! This son of a bitch is raping me!”

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you,” Perceur threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You think not? You think you’d be the first punk who’s had an ‘accident’ in here?”

“Please—!” Luc whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me. Go ahead. Go ahead and fuck me, if you have to.”

“Yeah, that’s better, boy. Much smarter. You take my dick, and you learn to love it!”

“Aw, shit!” Luc cried. “You fucking animal!”

“Don’t you try to sweet talk me, boy,” Perceur joked, callously.

As the big man drove his mighty prong deep into him, Luc felt the walls of his anus stretching, the membranes straining, and complaining silently, compared to the way Luc was complaining only too audibly.

“No more,” Luc gasped. “Please! Take it out, man. It hurts. It’s just too fucking big! It hurts too much. No, stop! Stop!”

“You’d better shush,” Perceur warned him. Indifferent to the blond boy’s pleas, he forced himself against Luc’s body—and into it. Inch by slow, painful inch, he completed his rape, shoving his huge cock up the boy’s butt until, at last, he had it jammed all the way inside him. Perceur let out a lewd gasp of satisfaction at the completed penetration, his heavy body slumping forward, his weight keeping Luc trapped on the bunk and doubled up underneath him. Perceur’s face, shoulders, and chest all glistened with a fine sheen of swat. His prick was buried in Luc’s butt! To the hilt! To the balls!

“Relax, baby,” he grunted. “I’m in you now. All the way in. Just relax and give yourself a chance to get used to it. I’ve nailed a lot of guys, and some of them were as tight as you. But they all learned to take it—and to like it! Not that I gave them much choice,” he laughed, cynically. “Soon, it won’t hurt any more, I promise. Just relax and let my cock fuck you—!”

Maybe it won’t hurt any more soon, Luc wanted to scream, but it sure as hell hurts right now!

And he didn’t see how he could possibly relax—not with all of those inches of hard prick driven into his guts like a steel spike! Luc squeezed his anal muscles by way of an experiment, to find out whether he could force Perceur’s cock to slide back out of him. But that was futile. The dick was thrust into him too deeply to be expelled.

However, Luc discovered, to his relief, that by pushing back against the invading phallus, his pain lessened somewhat, and another sort of sensation entirely began to surge through his body. It was a sensation of perverse pleasure and excitement. Ordinarily, Luc did like to be fucked. Most of his lovers, though, had more finesse in going about it than Perceur. He’d just assumed that he wouldn’t enjoy being fucked by this brute! But now, with each new stroke which Perceur’s fuck tool made inside his ass, the big, crude man was proving him wrong, changing Luc’s mind.

Luc’s fear and disgust were replaced by a sudden, terrible hunger for more. For more pressure inside his ass. More hard, hot cock—inside his ass, moving back and forth inside him. Taking him. Using him. Fucking him!

“Ooh, you prick!” Luc gurgled. “You dirty fucker!”

“That’s right, baby!” Perceur gasped, delighted by the sudden change in the boy’s movements and responses, by his abrupt cessation of resistance, and his newfound cooperation. “Work your ass around my prick! Fuck back when I shove it in you. It’ll feel real good in another minute or two. Hell, it’ll feel great! And then you’ll be begging for it, you little prickteaser! Begging for my cock!”

Encouraged by Luc’s submissiveness, Perceur paused for a moment, with his prick tantalizingly withdrawn almost all the way from the boy’s hole, so that only the head of his penis remained stuck inside Luc’s sphincter, keeping it stretched open. Then the rough convict rammed himself all the way inside Luc again, going in even deeper than before!

“Oh, my God!” Luc yelped. “Frigging hell!”

“Does that feel good?”

“Ah,” Luc gurgled, momentarily too traumatized to be capable of coherent speech. “Ah, hell!”

“It does!” Perceur exulted, grinning knowingly through the film of sweat on his flushed, excited face. “It does feel good in you now! I knew it would. You like it now, don’t you, you little whore? You like that dick up your ass. You like being fucked by that big, hard cock!”

Luc’s mind reeled. Yes, Perceur had told him so, but how could Luc have imagined that after such a painful, frightening beginning, there could come such intense pleasure? Such an overpowering sweep of pure erotic sensation? How could Luc have guessed that now he would no longer merely allow Perceur to keep his cock in him without resisting it, but he would actually want it in him? That he would squirm frantically against the man’s groin to keep the cock in there? That he would sob with deprivation and need, when his cellmate withdrew it—and that he’d then cry out with ecstatic delight when Perceur shoved it back in and resumed fucking him?

Yes, Perceur had told him that he would like having his cock in his ass, that he would want it in him. That Luc would never want the brute to take it out of him, but would beg him for more. And now it was all coming true!

Luc’s ass rotated wildly around that impaling length of rigid prick, twisting restlessly from one side to another to enable Perceur to thrust his big cock deep into him from different angles. Luc squeezed and milked it from deep inside his ass, gripping it tightly and then suddenly releasing it so that he could feel a new shiver of excitement rush through him as the fuck tool moved freely back and forth inside his butt. Yes, Perceur had told him, but Luc hadn’t believed it. But now he would never need to be told again, and he admitted that he should’ve trusted the more experienced, well-hung con!

“Fuck me, you son of a bitch,” Luc heard himself demanding. “Fuck me, fuck my ass, go on and ream me out with your cock! Oh, fuck me hard with your cock! Fuck me!”

“Is it real good for you now, baby?” Perceur grunted, lunging again and again.

“Yes! Oh, God, yes! Fuck me!”

“You like having that big dick in you?”

“Yes!” Luc shrieked. “Shove it in me. Fuck me with it!”

“I’m glad you like it, boy, because from now on you’re going to get it just like this, every night. You want more? You want all of it, baby? All I’ve got to give? All my dick up your ass, fucking you, screwing you shitless, reaming out your asshole? Fucking you silly, and turning you into my bitch?”

“Yes!”

“Every inch? You want every inch of that cock up your ass/’

“Yes! Please, yes! All of it. Oh, God, give me all of it! Fuck me with that big hard cock. Fuck me with it, with all of it, fuck me as hard as you can.”

“You don’t care that I’m a dirty, stinking con, doing hard time?”

“I love it! I’m no better than you. I’m a con, too. I’m a hot-assed, cock whore of a con. I want your cock up my ass, dude!” Luc shrieked, hysterically. “Take me, oh, fuck me! Fuck me!”

“You want my cum, too, don’t you, baby?” Perceur demanded, panting for breath from the violence of his exertions. His face was dripping sweat down onto Luc’s as he hovered above the boy’s doubled-up, writhing body, with his cock hammering mercilessly in and out of Luc’s wide-open asshole. “You want me to cum in your ass, baby?”

Luc thought he was going to pass out. He had never been in such a fever of excitement. It was almost agonizing. He could feel his heart pumping away furiously inside his chest, virtually in sync with Perceur’s thrusts and withdrawals, which were now coming incredibly hard and fast.

“Yes! Come in me, you big bastard! Come in my ass!” Luc cried.

“Hold on, boy. I will. Oh, I will!”

“Do it! Please!”

“Just a little longer, I promise. I’m almost there!” Perceur promised.

“Oh, God! Come inside me! Fuck me! Shoot! Shoot in my ass!”

Perceur’s cock thundered into Luc, the thick, throbbing shaft probing ruthlessly, stabbing into him hard and deep, until Luc could feel the vibrations from its repeated impactions shuddering through the walls of his rectum and reverberating up through his stomach and chest, where they drowned out the trip-hammer pounding of his overtaxed heart.

“Please, come, big man,” Luc moaned. “Come in me. I want to feel it. Your load shooting into my asshole. Come in my ass!”

“Yeah, baby! I’m going to, soon.” Perceur’s hand suddenly swooped down and caught Luc’s cock firmly in a tight, sweaty fist. He began to masturbate Luc with fast, violent strokes, while his own cock continued to lunge in and out of the boy’s asshole. “You come, too!” Perceur insisted. “Come with me, baby! Let’s blast off together. It’s always really hot, that way. You come, too! Come!”

“I will! Aw, shit! I am!” Luc felt sure that in his overexcited state he would have been able to come even if Perceur hadn’t touched his cock. He could feel the force of a tremendous ejaculation boiling up inside him, and now that Perceur was helping it along, there could be no doubt about it happening. And soon! Very soon!

“Oh, Christ, baby! I’m going to blow!” Perceur groaned. “I can’t help it, that ass of yours is just too sweet. It’s too hot—too tight—too good! I can’t hold it back, I’m going to shoot my whole goddamn load. I want you to come with me, boy! Shoot it on me, all over me. Cover me with that hot cum!”

“Yeah,” Luc moaned.

“Shoot! Shoot it all over me!”

“Yeah—here goes—!” Luc warned, desperately.

He felt Perceur’s cock burst inside his ass, felt the hot stream of his fucker’s cum shooting into the very depths of his body. Perceur’s cock quivered and jerked, and it unloaded its charge like a firehose turned on full blast as it exploded inside him. It was more than Luc could endure. He, too, shot off hard, his cum flying from his cock like so many liquid bullets, spraying Perceur’s muscular, sweat-shiny pectorals and running down his torso in slow dribbles to his belly and crotch, where his dick remained thrust deep between Luc’s brutally parted ass cheeks, still emptying itself inside the boy’s butt. While Perceur continued to pump on Luc’s prick with his fist, Luc’s first spurt was followed by another thick white stream of sperm—and then by another, and another. Desperately, he spent himself.

“Aw, fuck yeah, baby,” Perceur gloated. “That’s right, come on me! Empty it all out of your big, fat dick, bust your balls! Come all over me!”

Luc did! By the time he’d finished ejaculating inside Perceur’s fist, he’d coated his cellmate’s hairy, tattooed chest with a dozen little rivulets of wet, dripping cum. But even then, Luc refused to let Perceur go. He tightened his anal muscles around the big man’s big cock when he felt the depleted fuck tool start to slide out of him.

“No,” Luc insisted. “Stay inside me. Keep your cock in my ass. Don’t pull out yet. I still want to feel it in me, in my ass! Fuck me, you big, ugly motherfucker! Oh, fuck me some more! Goddamn you! I hate your guts. But I love the way your big, hard cock feels in my ass!”

Perceur grinned, and he leaned forward to kiss Luc long and hard on the mouth, slipping him his tongue.

“Don’t you worry, baby.” Perceur promised. “From now on, for as long as you’re in here with me, you’re going to be feeling that dick of mine up your ass every night!”

Chapter Three: Strip Club

There were a few blocks downtown in Cherbourg, near the waterfront, which were notorious for their dives—bars, strip clubs, and other disreputable hangouts. The area was also well known as a gay cruising spot.

Luc decided to try his luck there. He’d pick up some guy, and if Luc came up with a convincing enough sob story, the guy might befriend him, and treat him to a meal. Maybe Luc would even end up with a place to stay, overnight. Or they might skip the pretense of a budding romance, and just exchange money for sex.

It was still early, only a couple of hours after sunset, but there was a great deal of pedestrian traffic—most of it male, as local men, sailors who were temporarily in port, and tourists all went in search of entertainment.

Luc joined the crowd and strutted along proudly, his hard-muscled young body provocatively on display in his tight jeans and equally snug-fitting tank top, the latter baring his shoulders and arms, but also revealing the fact that he possessed a big, hard pair of pecs and a set of tight-packed abdominal muscles. The jeans, too, showed off his firm butt and his cock, which was stuffed down one leg of the pants. He was now carrying his long-sleeved linen shirt in his hand, as though it was a jacket which it was too warm tonight for him to wear.

“Hey, man—where you going?” a rough-sounding voice called out, jeeringly. Then an equally rough hand grasped Luc’s elbow from behind. Luc turned and looked at the guy—or rather, the guys. There were three of them, all sailors in uniform, all ugly, and all drunk. They leered at Luc as they closed in around him.

“Hi, good looking,” the second matelot jeered.

“You sure are one fine-looking dude,” the third sailor declared, rubbing his grimy hand over his swollen crotch. “Hey—do you like to suck cock? Shit! Of course you do. I can tell that just by looking at you.”

Luc thought he could handle it. Obnoxious guys were no novelty for him. But he automatically glanced up and down the sidewalk in search of reassurance and possible support. But the passersby studiously pretended not to notice. A couple of female hookers were watching, amused, from a nearby doorway. They’d no doubt rejected the three horny sailors as potential customers, given the fact that the drunken men were trying to get Luc to give it away for free. And Luc shared their opinion. The sailors were losers. But if they got riled, they could probably bash him, knock him down and beat and kick him right there, taking their sweet time about it, without having to worry about anybody calling the police or intervening on Luc’s behalf.

Luc wrenched himself free with a sudden, violent gesture.

“Sorry, guys, I’ve got a date,” he said, trying to sound as offhand about it as possible, and praying that his voice wouldn’t crack from fear.

Taken by surprise, the sailors were too startled for a second to react. Luc stepped away from them and calmly walked down the sidewalk to escape. They started to follow him, cursing, but then they evidently decided it wasn’t worth it, and they contented themselves with shouting insults after the fugitive.

“A date, huh? Well, give your boyfriend a good hot suck for me!” one man said.

“Yeah, and don’t forget to bend over and spread your ass for him,” the second jeered.

“Take his cock up your ass! Fuck yourself on it, you stuck-up cunt! You look like you’re used to that!” yelled the third.

Luc hurried away.

He checked out a street nearby where male prostitutes hung out, working the street. There was more than one gay bar on this block, and the hustlers took advantage of the fact by stationing themselves outdoors, trolling for tricks. Spaced out along the sidewalks at intervals, almost like soldiers on parade, they stood there, loitering, or they leaned back against the wall of the nearest building. The male whores seemed to run the gamut from baby-faced twinks to hulking, formidable looking toughs. There was something for every taste.

Luc had paused, looking for a spot for himself, when some of the hustlers in his vicinity spoke up, as raucously as the sailors had.

“Check out the fresh meat,” one guy commented.

“Fresh, my ass!” another one replied, caustically. “He looks well past his ‘sell by’ date to me!”

“Bitch,” one of the biggest and roughest looking of the men growled at Luc, “you’d better move on. This is my corner. I’m the only one who works it. Get lost, or I swear to God I’ll cut you. You want to bleed, boy?”

Nervously, Luc did move on. Fast!

Now his obvious recourse seemed to be to enter one of the bars, hoping to be picked up. But he didn’t really have any extra cash to spend on even one drink. He’d have to stall, avoiding attracting the bartenders’ attention to himself, while he cruised the paying customers.

Next to one bar was a gay strip club. Its ground floor window, overlooking the sidewalk, was covered up from the inside, so passersby couldn’t see in. A blinking red neon sign was displayed in the window. The neon tubing was bent into the shape of the outline of a stylized nude man. Also in the window, displayed on its bottom ledge, were photos of young men, all stripped to the waist or stripped down to their underwear or posing straps, along with a placard. The sign announced Hot naked men! Hot gay striptease! Nude dancers! Private lap dances available! Our exclusive XXX rated live sex shows every night!

The club’s front door was propped open. There was a tiny vestibule, its walls blocking the view of the interior from the street. Music could be heard, coming from inside. Perched on a stool in the vestibule was a bouncer, a surly looking, pumped up, massively muscled bodybuilder type. He was asking to see the ID of anyone who looked suspiciously young, and he was taking money from everyone he allowed to pass by him and go inside, depositing the cash into a lock box resting on a shelf behind him and secured to the wall by a chain and padlock.

Luc stood in front of the big man, looking hesitant. The hulking number looked him up and down.

“Okay, pretty boy,” the bouncer growled, at last. “I know I’m fascinating to look at, but don’t just stand there. Do you want to come in, or stay out? If it’s out, move along. You’re blocking the way for the paying customers.”

“Ah—I really need to get inside,” Luc said.

“Are you new here?” the muscle man asked. “First time?”

“Well, yes. I’ve never been here before.”

“No, what I meant, is this your first time working here. I thought you might be a new stripper, reporting for duty tonight. But they usually tell me, when they hire fresh meat. My mistake.”

“That’s all right.” Luc was quite flattered that the guy thought he had a good enough body to strip in front of an audience for money. “I’m just another customer. Can I go in, now?”

“There’s a twenty euro cover charge.”

“Ah, listen, big guy. I really can’t afford that. Can’t you just do me a favor and let me in?”

“Do I know you? Do I owe you a favor?”

“No, but if you make an exception to the rules, I’d be willing to do you one.” Luc treated the bouncer to his most ingratiating and seductive smile.

“Listen, buddy. You’re cute, but you’re not so cute that you’re worth risking my job for. If you want to hook up with me outside of here sometime, fine. I’ll fuck your pretty ass, ream out your sweet little hole and make you beg for more. Otherwise, hand over the twenty euros, or get lost. No freebies.”

Luc was about to slink away, shamefaced, when another man, who’d stepped up behind him on the sidewalk, spoke.

“I’ll pay the young man’s way,” this man said. “He can be my guest.”

The bouncer shrugged. “I don’t give a damn, as long as I get the money in the till.”

Luc’s benefactor was a man in his mid-thirties, not unpleasant to look at, and wearing a rumpled suit with a loosened tie. He was probably some sort of a businessman, on his way home after working late, and in search of entertainment. He’d apparently already stopped off at a bar for a few drinks. He was visibly intoxicated—not in an extreme or obnoxious way, but just enough to make him a bit unsteady on his feet, and to put him in an exaggerated good mood.

“Thank you,” Luc said, as he watched the money changing hands.

“My pleasure,” the man in the suit replied.

Luc doubted that the guy had paid the cover charge out of the goodness of his heart. He no doubt hoped to pick up Luc, who wasn’t averse to that possibility, assuming he could get more of the man’s money transferred to his own pocket before their interaction was over.

He let the man lead him past the glowering bouncer and into the club. Its interior was small and dimly lit, with a bar against one wall, a tiny stage equipped with a stripper pole on either side, and a sound booth tucked away in the one corner. The rest of the space was taken up by small tables, and chairs. A curtained doorway led to some adjacent space.

While doing some heavy drinking, the customers who were seated at the tables, or standing in the rear of the room, opposite the stage, were gaping at the strippers, who came out to perform either individually, or in twos and threes.

“What’ll you have to drink?” Luc’s companion asked him.

“A beer, please.”

The man went to the bar, returning with the beer for Luc and a cocktail for himself. They found a table and sat down to watch the show.

The dancers didn’t do much actual stripping. They seemed not to bother to dress up in elaborate costumes. They came out on the stage in underwear, jockstraps, and posing straps, and they quickly got stark naked. The one item which seemed to be de rigueur was a tight fitting wristband, or an armband higher up on the arm, above the biceps. This was where the guys tucked the tips which the patrons gave them, for safekeeping. After gyrating on the stage, the strippers didn't confine themselves to it. They jumped down and circulated among the tables.

Observing the nude dancers as they worked the crowd, Luc took note of some good bodies, although in one or two instances the physique had to compensate for a distinct lack of male-model good looks. Tattoos and body piercings appeared to be common, as were unkempt hairstyles. These guys, Luc concluded, were kind of trashy.

“Have you been in town long?” Luc’s tablemate inquired.

“I’m from here,” Luc replied.

“Then you can’t have been working the streets and the bars for very long. Or I’d have run into you before tonight.”

Not sure just how to respond, Luc merely nodded. He was pleased, though, that the guy had immediately taken him for a hustler. That might simplify matters. Whatever I do, I mustn’t let him think he’s going to get anything from me for free, he told himself. Like that fucking bouncer said—no freebies!

The dancers, Luc noticed, didn’t hesitate to behave whorishly with the customers, approaching their tables, writhing in front of them, shoving their crotches and asses in the drinkers’ faces. The sluttier a stripper was, the more cash he ended up being given. Luc was mildly surprised to see some customers not only groping the dancers’ various body parts, which the performers encouraged them to do, but actually taking a brazenly flaunted cock in the mouth, to give it a quick suck. Luc was surprised the place wasn’t raided by the authorities, and shut down. But in all probability the management paid protection money to the right people.

The disc jockey manning the sound booth made an announcement over a speaker system.

“All right, gentlemen, while our dancers take a brief and well-deserved break, we’re going to start our famous live sex shows, in the back room. There’ll be a thirty euro admission fee. Feel free to take your drinks back there with you.”

“Now we’re talking,” Luc’s intoxicated friend declared, as he rose from the table. “This is what everybody really comes here for. Come on,” he urged Luc.

A queue was already forming, with patrons going behind the curtain one by one. Luc and his drinking buddy joined it.

Behind the curtain was a long narrow hallway. To one side, was the door leading to the men’s room, so labeled. A few steps farther along the hallway, a second burly, muscle-bound bouncer was on guard duty, seated on a stool, with a lock box in his lap, collecting the entrance fee. Once again, Luc’s new acquaintance paid for them both.

What a rip-off this place is, Luc thought. It’s a dump, but they seem to be making money from the suckers hand over fist.

At the end of the hallway, they went through another doorway.

Luc found himself in another cramped space, smaller than the main barroom. It was set up as a theater of sorts. A raised wooden platform was placed against one wall, in front of an open doorway. Loudspeakers, mounted on the wall high up on either side, piped in the music from the other room. The platform was barely large enough to contain the mattress lying on top of it. The mattress was encased in a thick black rubber fitted bottom sheet. On one corner of the platform was set a large plastic pump bottle of sex lubricant.

A spotlight, aimed at the mattress, threw a harsh glare upon it and its immediate vicinity. The rest of the room was in darkness. Rows of chairs were lined up, facing the “stage.” The seats ranged from folding chairs and worn-out old mismatched armchairs, to equally mismatched chairs which looked as though they’d originally been intended to be placed around dining room tables.

The bar’s patrons who filed into the room seated themselves, tending to spread out, with vacant seats separating them.

As Luc’s friend led him to a pair of adjoining seats, Luc noticed a slight but prevailing, unpleasant odor in the room. It was a compound of sweat, spilled alcohol, stale urine, and cum. There was no point in Luc’s pretending that he didn’t recognize that distinctive smell of semen. He knew what went on in sleazy waterfront dives like this one. In the gloom, the onlookers didn’t hesitate to masturbate themselves to orgasm while they watched the show, or even to engage in sex acts with one another. Those who were drunk enough often spilled their drinks, or they lost control of their bladders and, unable to make it to the men’s room in time, they pissed on the floor.

After no one else came into the room through its entrance, there was a few moments’ delay, and then, without any announcement or other preamble, the show began. Two stark naked men, both in their twenties, emerged nonchalantly through the doorway behind the mattress on the platform. They settled down on the black rubber fitted sheet which covered the mattress, and they began to make out, kissing each other on the mouth, with plenty of tongue action, and fondling each other’s stiff dicks. Soon, writhing against each other, they were masturbating each other, and fingering each other’s assholes, while they coaxed themselves steadily to an even greater level of arousal, and toward ejaculation.

One guy suddenly pulled out a dildo, which must have been hidden away behind the mattress, out of the audience’s sight. It was hard red rubber, shaped like an erect penis, with a tapered point. The performer used the pump bottle of lube to smear the slippery substance all over the dildo, which he proceeded to insert between his partner’s ass cheeks and into his ass. He thrust about a third of the thick object up into the other young man’s anal opening, and the recipient went wild with what certainly seemed like unfeigned lust as it penetrated him. More and more of the artificial cock vanished inside his asshole, and the first guy fucked him with the dildo while he masturbated himself with his other hand, and, leaning over, he took the other young man’s cock in his mouth and sucked it, noisily and with evident relish.

Within a few minutes, the dildo-fucked dude had a violent orgasm which shook his whole body. Grunting, he shot his sperm all over himself and the other guy. The dildo was quickly withdrawn, and it was replaced by the other man’s big cock. They fucked with a mechanical efficiency, groaning and shuddering while their bodies hammered together in the rhythms of anal intercourse.

The audience was attentive, and appreciative. Several of the bolder men had already unzipped their pants, hauled out their dicks, gotten them stiff, and were masturbating away. Jerking off seemed to be the standard alternative, in lieu of applause.

Luc felt the man beside him grasp his wrist to guide his hand to his lap. He was sitting with his legs spread, and Luc could feel that he had developed a sizable hard-on in his suit trousers. Luc’s fingers caressed the bulge lightly, exploring its dimensions, but then he engaged it manually with greater force, when the guy pushed his hand down harder, and he grunted with satisfaction at the boy’s willingness to grope him.

“Take it out, boy,” he drawled, in a whisper—although there was nobody nearby to overhear who was likely to be shocked by anything he said. “Take my dick out and play with it a little, kid. I’ll give you twenty euros for a good hand job,”

Luc was tempted to ask for double that, namely forty, but a hand job was nothing—scarcely qualifying as actual sex, by his standards—and it sounded as though it’d be quick, easy money. So he continued to fondle the older man through his pants, while he glanced around, nervously. No one was paying attention to him and his john. And these men were scarcely in a position to be puritanical, or judgmental. Whether they were jerking off or not, all of the other members of the audience were staring fixedly at the stage, where the first stud was still energetically fucking his playmate.

“Come on, will you?” Luc’s companion demanded. “What the hell are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?” He pressed Luc’s laggard fingers against his zipper. Luc pulled it down and plunged his fingers into the now-open fly. He had to pull aside the man’s undershorts in order to grasp his hard-on and lift it up and out of the gap in his trousers. The stiff penis was warm as it pulsed eagerly in the hollow of his hand, and Luc closed his fingers in a tight fist around the swollen shaft and he began to move his hand up and down on it. His john grunted, happily.

“Yeah—! Fuck, yeah! That’s it, punk,” he gasped, his voice low and hoarse as he encourage Luc, whose hand movements became bolder, more efficient. Luc fisted the guy’s prick with all his strength, to get the sex act over with quickly and collect his twenty euros. Afterward, he hoped, they might go to one of the many cheap hotels in the neighborhood, or back to the guy’s place, and he would pay Luc to let him suck Luc’s cock, or for Luc to fuck him. Luc was well on his way to becoming another one of the seaport’s many male prostitutes.

The man began to surround Luc’s masturbating hand with his own hand while he watched the live sex act continue. Pressing Luc’s fist tighter shut around his dick and pushing his erection up to meet the boy’s pumping fingers and increase their friction, he whispered, fiercely, “Squeeze it, stud.” He panted for breath while he watched the guy on the stage getting fucked. “Squeeze it real hard. Make me come!”

Luc did his best to please him. From the loudspeakers, the music blared on monotonously. Luc looked up at the stage while he jerked his neighbor, and he saw the two naked men twisting and humping their bodies as they screwed. The guy whom Luc was beating off was watching them fuck, too, his gaze intent, as though he was hypnotized. When Luc manipulated him even more roughly, though, he closed his eyes and he moaned loudly, letting his head slump back against his seat.

“Faster—do it faster!” he gasped.

What do you think I am, a machine? Luc wanted to ask. His wrist was getting tired, but he stoically tried to speed up its movements. The man muttered obscenities and he gasped, not caring whether anyone else in the tiny auditorium heard him or not. He was approaching his climax at last. He seemed to have forgotten Luc’s presence beside him, as though it was a disembodied fist and arm which were working so industriously on his prick.

Even as his hips lunged up from the creaking seat cushion and he shot his sperm into the air, he gave no sign of acknowledgment to the boy who was bringing him off. He was lost in some erotic fantasy which didn’t include Luc—who released the dripping prick hastily, grabbed his pocket handkerchief, and used it to wipe off the traces of sticky cum from his fingers, with a grimace of disgust.

At the same time, appropriately enough, the guy onstage who was doing the fucking broke his silence.

“I’m coming!” he declared. “Shit, yes, bitch! I’m going to breed your ass. Take it—take all of my goddamn cum in your hole!” He pulled out of his partner’s ass and he delivered a porn video style cum shot, spraying his semen onto the other man’s body. When he was done ejaculating, he shoved his slimy prick back inside the other’s guy’s well-fucked hole, which he continued to ravage. No one in the audience applauded, but perhaps that was because so many hands were still busy.

Luc wanted to ask for the money now, but he didn’t want to risk offending his john by being too pushy. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, the man sat up, tucked his spent dick back inside his pants, and he zipped up. He began to watch the live sex act again, as though nothing had happened. Suddenly, he seemed to remember Luc.

“I have to get a big bill changed by the bartender so I can give you your money,” he whispered. “You wait here. Enjoy the show. I’ll be right back.”

He squeezed past Luc, into the narrow aisle. Luc turned his head to watch him go, but the way the men seated in the vicinity suddenly took their eyes off the stage to stare at him, hopefully, or simply to leer at him, made him feel uncomfortable. He watched the next act begin.

There was a different pair of guys on the mattress now, older, in their thirties, and decidedly rougher looking. One of them was kissing and tonguing his partner’s hard-on as a prelude to going down on it. Soon, though, he began to suck the cock. Within a few moments, he was industriously deep-throating the other man’s big dick, and the recipient of the oral attention seemed pleased by the blow job he was being given.

How much money are these guys being paid? Luc wondered. The strippers probably work just for tips, and they don’t get a salary at all. I wonder how much they make on a good night? That bouncer out front thought I was a stripper, at first. I’m as good looking as any of the guys I’ve seen dance in here so far, and I’m got just as good a body. I could strip.

I don’t know about this sex performance shit, though. I don’t see any of the customers tipping these guys. Do they get a token salary from the club, or are they just freaking exhibitionists who get off on doing it in front of an audience, so they’re willing to do it for free?

I’ll have to find out. Either way, maybe I should apply for a job here.

This daydreaming kept Luc’s mind occupied while he waited. But the minutes passed, and his john didn’t return. Another man now abandoned his seat in one of the back rows, and he came forward. He selected a new seat on the aisle, just a few seats away from where Luc was sitting. The newcomer glanced at Luc, but Luc didn’t turn his head to return his gaze.

Luc wished that the first guy, the drunken dude in the suit, would come back with his money. Maybe he was having another drink at the bar, or he’d gone to the men’s room to piss. Luc tried not to notice the unsubtle ways in which the newcomer was now trying to get his attention, while they both kept up the pretense of being engrossed in the action onstage.

Not that the two current performers were shirking. The one who’d been doing the sucking had moved on to rimming his partner. When he was satisfied that he’d wet the guy’s sphincter sufficiently with his saliva, and scorning the nearby bottle of artificial lube, he proceeded to fuck him.

The possibility that his john might not come back at all hit Luc with a shocking abruptness and force. The man had wanted more from Luc that just a hand job, surely? He wanted to go to bed with Luc. Christ, he wouldn’t just leave the club and walk off, would he? He couldn’t, the son of a bitch! What a fool Luc had been to let the dude get out of his sight, even for a moment!

“Hey,” Luc’s new neighbor whispered, barely audibly above the heavy breathing and the groans coming not only from the two men on the stage, but from the onlookers.

Luc gave him a quick, casual glance. He was fortyish, bland-looking, a bit shabbily dressed. At least he was sober. He had exposed himself, and like many of the other men in the room he was playing with his cock—an impressively large cock, uncut and fully erect. He grinned at Luc, insolently, while he worked on himself with his fast-moving fist. Nervously, Luc looked away.

But his discomfiture had given the exhibitionist all the further encouragement he needed. He slid over the few seats that separated them, and he sat beside Luc, still exposed, still fisting his dick. How gross! Luc thought. Disgusting! Lousy pervert! Ugh! Luc wanted to get up and leave the room, but he forced himself to remain calm, until he could assess the situation and determine just how it might play out—possibly, to his advantage.

“Hey, good looking—are you here just to see the show, or are you looking for a little action yourself? Wouldn’t you like to give this a quick suck, huh?” Luc’s admirer asked him, feverishly. “I’ll suck yours, too! We can do it here, but I like a little privacy. I know a cheap fleabag hotel we could go to, it’s only two blocks away from here. Go there with me, and I’ll give you a really good suck. That’ll be more fun than just watching this shit.” He indicated the two men who were fucking on the stage, gesturing toward them with his unoccupied hand.

Luc stood up. “Fuck off,” he told the guy. “I’ve got to, ah, go meet somebody.”

The man grabbed his arm. “Come on! Let your date wait.”

“I said I have to go,” Luc hissed, wrenching himself free. “Let go of me, or I’ll punch your fucking face in for you.”

“No need to get rough. I know some guys like that, but not me.” Then the man spoke the magic words. “I’ll make it worth your while, tough guy. I’ll give you thirty euros for a good blow job. Forty, for a fuck!”

Luc thought fast, while he looked the man coldly in the eyes—and the man leered back, smugly, confidently, and knowingly, at him. That first dirty, horny bastard wasn’t coming back—ever. Luc realized that now. He’d been taken! Ripped off! He’d given that son of a bitch the hand job for nothing. He had to get some money somehow—and fast. He couldn’t afford to start getting choosey now.

“I get fifty, minimum, no matter what we do,” Luc told the man, feeling more sure of himself. “And I want it up front, cash in hand, before we start in.”

“Sure, handsome. Whatever you say.”

“Let’s go, then. I want to get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Four: By the Hour

“What’s your name, boy?” the man asked, as he and Luc left the strip club and walked along the street, which was still busy with both vehicular and pedestrian traffic, even this late at night.

“Luc.”

“Is that your real name?”

“Of course.” Why would I lie about it? Luc asked himself.

“Well, you can call me Pierre,” the man said, his wry facial expression and tone of voice leaving little doubt that Pierre wasn’t his real name.

Luc tried to act sophisticated, even blasé, as he followed his trick into the lobby of a sleazy-looking hotel. Inside, the place positively reeked of illicit activities, especially sexual ones. Despite the seedy atmosphere, which suggested that the management was on the easy-going, tolerant side, the burly, tough looking young guy behind the front desk looked first at the older man, and then at Luc, in a hard and inquisitive manner. It was as though he knew exactly what they’d come there for—namely, a sordid commercial transaction. The clerk had rather shaggy hair, badly in need of a trim, and a thick mustache. He looked capable of handling the rougher customers who were no doubt among those who patronized this establishment.

Luc forced a smile. He hoped the desk clerk wouldn’t ask too many questions, but if he did, Luc decided he’d let his companion do the talking.

“We want a room,” Luc’s john said, matter-of-factly.

Luc, feeling bolder, continued to smile in a bland way at the muscular young desk clerk, who didn’t seem too impressed, either by Luc’s companion or by Luc himself.

“I’m sure you do,” the clerk replied. “Fifty euros, for the night.”

“What sort of a palace do you think you’re running here?” the guy with Luc scoffed. “We only want it for an hour.”

The clerk grunted. “That’ll be twenty euros, then.” Now he was scrutinizing Luc’s body, rather critically, as he threw down a key on the countertop. “Room Number Nine, fourth floor.”

“Twenty euros!” the john exclaimed. “What kind of a fucking rip-off joint is this, anyway? Look—we’re only going to be up there a little while, and you damn well know it. It was only fifteen euros for an hour, the last time I was here.”

The clerk shrugged. “Costs keep going up everywhere, all the time.” He gestured toward Luc, insultingly. “You can afford him, can’t you, big spender? Well, then you can afford the room. Unless you want to suck him off over there in the phone booth—and even then, I’d have to charge you, at least for making a local call!” He laughed uproariously at his own idiotic joke. Luc wished he had something to throw at the guy.

The john, looking disgusted but resigned, tossed the money on the countertop and picked up the key.

“Want us to register?” he asked.

“Don’t bother,” the clerk said. “That keeps things simple.”

“Yeah,” the man who called himself Pierre agreed, cynically. “Come on, kid. The clock’s ticking.” He led Luc toward the elevator. “Aw, what the fuck,” was the john’s philosophical comment to Luc, as he pushed the button to call the elevator. “Everybody’s got to hustle for money one way or another, right, kid?”

Luc agreed. “Oui, sans aucun doute.”

They got into the elevator car. Even before the door closed, the man grabbed Luc’s ass, pulling him close against him. The car began to go up, slowly, its mechanism creaking somewhat ominously. The man cupped the boy’s buttocks and began to stroke them with his hands. He kissed Luc, who didn’t resist, kissing him back casually, and not pulling back or otherwise objecting when the man slipped him his tongue.

“Oh, yeah! You’re one hell of a hot number, do you know that? Nice and fresh, too. Almost wholesome looking. Not as hard looking as some of the young guys I pick up. You can always tell when a hustler’s got a lot of mileage racked up on him,” the man said, as his hands explored Luc’s body through his clothes. “The minute I saw you walk into that dive with that drunken asshole you were with, I told myself, ‘that lucky stiff over there has found himself a real bargain.’ I couldn’t believe it when he walked out on you like that, after just a hand job. Fuck! Look at you. You’re ten times better looking than any of those guys who strip in that joint.”

“Thanks,” Luc muttered, in response to the compliment.

“Those guys who dance are all whores, too, you know. They’ll meet up with a guy outside the club, for money. But they’re too damn full of themselves. Too pricey. And they act as though they’re doing a guy a favor by taking his money. As for the live sex performers—they’ll do anything for money, but they’re dirty trash. I bet you suck and fuck better than all of them put together.”

“I’m sure I do,” Luc bragged. “And you’ll soon find that out for yourself.”

“Yeah, can’t wait.” Pierre went on talking, cheerfully, as the elevator jolted to a stop and they got off. Going down the dimly-lit hall, they found their room. “I said to myself right away, ‘look at that son of a bitch, getting his rocks off with that young stud.’ I tell you, boy, I took one look at you and my prick got so hard it really started to ache. I’m not kidding—” They were inside the small, cheaply furnished, and thoroughly depressing room. The man bolted the door behind them. “How about putting on a show for me, now? Why don’t you strip down and give me a good look at the merchandise, kid?”

“The money,” Luc said, firmly. He wasn’t going to be cheated again! “You said I could have it ahead of time.”

“Oh, sure, we might as well get that out of the way, right?”

Luc was relieved by this immediate compliance. Pierre took a fifty-euro note from his wallet and handed it over. Luc shoved the folded cash into the pocket of his jeans. Thank God! he thought. Some money, at last! Now he’d be able to afford a room for the night, somewhere. It might not be any better than this dump, but it’d be a safe place in which to sleep, as opposed to spending the night outdoors, like some poor homeless bum. Luc was so grateful that he’d be willing to give this guy Pierre the fuck of his life, now.

“And maybe there’ll be a nice little tip in it for you, too, on top of that fifty, if you show me a really good time,” Pierre said. He was touching Luc’s hips, caressing his crotch. His restless hands moved around to grope Luc’s ass, and next they traveled upward over his torso, rubbing Luc’s firm pecs and nipples through the thin fabric of his tank top. “I don’t like a stuck-up whore. I like the kind of guy who can really get into it, you know?”

“That’s me,” Luc assured him.

“Hot body—!” Pierre took hold of Luc’s shoulders, kneaded them, and then ran his hands down his back. Once again, he felt Luc’s ass through the seat of his jeans, but then he returned his attention to Luc’s pecs. “That’s such a nice fucking chest you’ve got there, baby. And believe me, I know a good chest when I see and feel one. You might say I’m kind of a chest man. That’s the part of a man’s body which really turns me on, even more than his dick or his ass. How about a little hot tit fucking, huh? Can you get into that?”

Luc wasn’t sure what the man meant. Tit fucking? None of the other men he’d tricked with had ever wanted such a thing. His confusion apparently registered on his face, judging by the way Pierre was now looking at him. But then Pierre only laughed, cheerfully, as he stepped back from Luc.

“I’ll show you,” Pierre said. “Come on, let’s not waste any time. Let’s get naked.”

Quickly, he undressed. Luc pulled off his own clothes.

He and Pierre were both naked when Pierre drew him toward the narrow bed. The older guy’s erection poked out toward Luc, the way it had when he’d exposed himself to the boy in the strip club.

“First, suck on it a little, so it’s good and wet and slippery,” Pierre gasped.

His hands moved to Luc’s head, drawing his face down to his crotch. This much, at least, was only too familiar to Luc. Men were all alike. They all wanted to be blown! Luc took the guy’s hard cock in his hand. Suppressing a grimace of disgust, he guided the penis to his lips, putting just the head of it inside his mouth. He began to suck it, gently but thoroughly. Once he got used to the taste and the feel of the hard cock inside his mouth, he blew Pierre more aggressively, and he even began to take a perverse pleasure in performing the act.

“You’re a good cocksucker. Jesus! Can you ever suck! Go ahead and swallow the whole thing,” Luc’s john insisted. “Take your hand away and let my whole dick slide right down into your throat, kid. You shouldn’t have any trouble taking it. Aw, fuck, yeah! Yeah, that’s the way I like it, baby—that’s how to suck on a hot, hard dick! You’re worth every euro. Go on and suck it good. Don’t hold back. Really blow me. Use your teeth a little, too. That turns me on. Only, don’t bite my cock too hard.”

Luc did as he was told, and the guy’s groans and helpless squirming movements told him that he was pleasing him. The man kept his hands on Luc’s disheveled hair to guide his head while Luc worked his sucking lips up and down the length of the throbbing column of steely flesh. But then the man moved his hands down lower, first to his shoulders, and then to his chest, where he squeezed the pecs and pinched the large dark nipples.

“Aw, shit! Big, hard chest—just what I like! Hot pecs! And that mouth of yours! Oh, that’s good—real good! You’re doing one hell of a hot job. You’re giving me a great suck!” Pierre gasped, getting more and more excited while Luc labored on his prick. “Your mouth feels so damn good—nice and soft and warm. Go ahead and suck it some more. Suck it real hard!” Luc did so. “Now, kid, that’s enough of that. Now,” Pierre grunted, “all you have to do is lie back down on the bed and let me get on top of you. Let me do the work—!”

He pushed Luc into the position he wanted, and then he straddled the boy’s heavy chest, his weight oppressing Luc for a moment until Luc got used to it. Placing his saliva-wetted penis in the deep groove between Luc’s firm, well-developed pectoral muscles, he rubbed his erection back and forth over the breastbone, aiming his cockhead at Luc’s neck and chin, and as he did so the john grew even more agitated with lustful excitement.

“Anybody ever done this you before?” Pierre asked.

“Done what, exactly?” Luc gasped.

“Got off on rubbing his dick on your chest like this.”

“Ah—no. You’re the first.”

Pierre grunted. “I thought so. It’s new to most of the guys I pick up. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s hot, really fucking hot,” Luc assured him, knowing that this was what the guy wanted to hear, even though Luc in fact though it was kind of weird, and almost asexual.

“Ah, your big hard pecs feel as good as a mouth or an ass,” Pierre gloated. “Can’t wait to cum all over them!”

Luc was beginning to get the idea. The man didn’t even want to come in his mouth, let alone fuck him in the ass! It was kinky, but in a way it was also a relief. This was going to be an easy fifty euros. Luc wondered why he hadn’t thought of his chest as not just decorative, but as an asset which could be exploited by being put to sexual use, long ago.

“Put your hands up here,” the john instructed Luc, grabbing his wrists and moving his hands where he wanted them, high up on Luc’s torso, cupping his pecs. “Squeeze those big fucking chest muscles together, on either side of my dick. Give me a nice tight place to work my cock in and out of. Yeah, that’s the way, do it just like that! Good boy. Does that feel good?”

“It’s hot,” Luc said. “It’s sexy—it’s really turning me on.” He wasn’t entirely lying. The john’s unabashed enthusiasm, the obvious delight he was taking in the act, was infectious.

“Aw, shit, I’m getting so damn excited!” Pierre moaned. “Okay, now you just play with those hot nipples of yours, Luc. Just rub them really hard and keep them stiff. And keep pushing your pecs together so that they’re rubbing against my dick, nice and tight. Oh, baby—oh, you, stud—this is better than being sucked off, better than fucking a guy up the ass—!”

Luc did as he was told, and the man began to fuck the space between his pressed-together pecs as though it was just another orifice, rocking rapidly back and forth to slide his cock in and out of the deep, firm groove thus created. In a perverse way, Luc really began to enjoy it, especially because he was pinching the hell out of his own sensitive, highly responsive nipples while the guy fucked his chest muscles. Nipple play always got Luc hot. He let his head fall back on the pillows, but Pierre grabbed his hair to pull him back up.

“No,” Pierre protested, feverishly. “Don’t look away. You’ve got to keep looking at what we’re doing, please! Look right at my dick, going back and forth between those big, hard pecs of yours, rubbing against your chest. Watch my cock, boy! Watch it! I’m going to shoot a really big load in just another of couple of minutes. And when I do, I want to do it in your mouth. I want my cum to go right into that sexy mouth of yours. Get ready to take it—to suck me. Aw, fuck! Shit! You’re really turning me on, stud, you’re getting me so fucking hot! Big chest muscles—all hot and sweaty—rubbing against my dick! You’re really something else, stud! When I came out tonight, I never thought I’d meet a guy as hot as you. Oh, does this ever feel good!”

He was ramming his prick back and forth between Luc’s compressed pecs much faster now, with the erection gliding on a film of sweat, and Luc kneaded his pecs rapidly in order to increase the friction.

“Oh, yeah! Aw, fuck! I’m almost there. Open up, boy—open your mouth, wide. Stick your tongue out—get ready to take it—!” the man grunted.

He pushed himself forward, deep into Luc’s mouth, keeping his hand on the back of the boy’s head and forcing him to take his dick, as he rammed it into his mouth and it exploded deep in his throat. Luc gagged a little when the salty taste filled his mouth and inundated his throat. The guy’s cock rubbed restlessly over Luc’s lips and tongue and the insides of his hollowed cheeks, as he sucked and swallowed to gulp down the flow of thick, slimy semen. At last, the john was spent, and Luc’s ordeal was over.

Pierre pulled away from him, sighing. “You really are something else, kid,” he repeated. “Usually, I last longer, but you got me too damn hot. What the hell—I got my money’s worth. I wish I could take a picture of you with your shirt off, so I can keep it and jerk off looking at it, thinking about my dick rubbing over your fucking stud chest.” He slapped Luc’s rump lightly, and then he caressed his sweaty pecs.

“Why don’t you?” Luc suggested.

“Why don’t I do what?”

“Take my picture. You have a phone on you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Picking up his discarded trousers, the man pulled his cell phone from one of the pockets.

“For another thirty euros, I’ll let you take some photos of me—and not just of my chest—but nude,” Luc proposed. “Bare-assed naked, with my dick hanging out. How’d that be for a souvenir?”

Excited, Pierre took the photos. Then he got dressed. He handed over not just the thirty euros, but an extra twenty, as a tip.

“Thanks,” Luc said.

“Can I have your phone number? I want to get together with you again, soon.”

“Sure.” Luc have the man his number. “We can do this again, any time you want. Just call me to set it up. I’ll meet you, anywhere you say.” So long as you have money to give me, Luc thought, cynically.

Pierre consulted his wristwatch. “Well, the room’s paid for, for another few minutes. Stay here and relax a little, if you want to. Here’s the room key. Drop it off with that jerk downstairs, when you leave. See you around, stud. I’ll call you—for sure.”

Waving goodbye, the man left the room and went down the hall.

Luc took his time putting himself back together. He could still taste the cum in his mouth, so he rinsed it out over the bathroom sink. Dressed, and rather pleased with himself for how well he’d scored, he left the room and pressed the button to get the elevator.

He’d asked for fifty euros. Now he had a hundred!

In the lobby, he tossed the room key on the desk. The clerk caught his eye and nodded at him.

“Wait,” the muscular young guy said.

“Wait for what?” Luc asked him, a little haughtily.

“Are you done for the night, or not?”

Luc looked at him, momentarily confused.

“Done doing what?” he asked.

“Like we both don’t know. Do you want another trick?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to play dumb with me. It’s not as though I’m a cop!”

“A trick?”

“Another john, you dumb punk! Another paying customer. Jesus, do I have to draw you a picture?”

“Who are you talking about—you? Are you horny, man?” Luc retorted, trying to sound contemptuous.

“Now that you’ve dropped the stupid act, don’t get smart with me. You’re not so bad looking, but I don’t have to pay for it. No—it’s a guy upstairs, who just checked in. He asked me if I knew where there was any gay action around here. As if you could walk down the streets near here without bumping into it! I guess he’s too nervous to go out cruising at random. He especially wanted to know whether I could hook him up with somebody. He said he’s willing to pay. You interested, or not? If not, then I’m going to start making some phone calls, to some other guys I know.”

“How much will I get from this dude?” Luc asked, shamelessly.

“He’s good for fifty, and I’ll get twenty from him for setting it up. Okay, kid? Deal?”

“Fifty? I ought to be able to get more than that,” Luc insisted, surprised by his own confidence. He wasn’t going to get ripped off again, or sell himself cheap—not ever!

“Maybe could can, if you peddle your cock and your ass out there on the street long enough. But I’ve got a quick, easy fifty waiting for you right here, all lined up. If you’re good at faking it. You know, if you show a lot of enthusiasm, and you throw in a few extras—lick the guy’s asshole, or whatever else he likes—then you should be able to earn a tip. Don’t do me any favors, though. Take it or leave it. If you don’t want the john, I know half a dozen guys who’d be glad to come here and do anything he wants for that fifty.”

“Okay,” Luc said. “I’ll do it. I’ll take care of him.” Maybe he could get more money if he hit the streets. But this was a sure thing. He’d be foolish to turn it down.

“He’s in Room Six, on the third floor,” the desk clerk told him, smiling. “Go right up, and I’ll call him and tell him you’re on your way.”

Luc walked back to the elevator. It was waiting for him, ready to carry him to the next stage in his progress, whether for good or ill.

Chapter Five: Paying the Pimp

Luc was working the street. It was a hot, still night, without the breeze which often came from the nearby harbor. Luc had found a good spot in which to loiter, near the entrance to a gay bar. He could hear the music coming from the bar as, leaning back against a brick wall, he cruised and was cruised by the men who passed him on the sidewalk. Luc’s tight jeans, with his cock stuffed down one leg to create a very visible basket, attracted a lot of attention. So did the fact that he’d upped the ante by taking off his tank top and tucking it behind him, in his belt.

It didn’t take long for his next john to come along, pause to check him out, and then approach him.

The man was at least forty, not bad looking, and well dressed. He’d obviously had a few drinks, although he wasn’t impaired. Luc saw that he wore a wedding ring. Married men, cheating on their wives, were usually good prospects. They had a tendency to get right to the point, they didn’t mind paying, and they also tended to be good tippers.

The guy walked up to the shirtless young hustler, smiling.

“Hello, there,” he said.

Luc returned his smile. “Hello, yourself.”

“Hot night, isn’t it?”

“Steaming.”

“You look hot, too.” The guy reached out and touched Luc’s bare chest with the flat of his hand, rubbing the droplets of sweat from pec to pec.

“Looking is free, but touching isn’t,” Luc said, pleasantly, and making no effort, however, to pull away from the caressing hand. “Maybe you’d be interested in renting it—by the hour, or for the night.” He didn’t hesitate to put it so bluntly, because he was certain this guy couldn’t be an undercover cop. A vice cop would never make the first move by touching a hustler in a so explicit a manner. Otherwise, Luc would never have been the first to bring up the subject of money for sex. He’d learned that much—and a hell of a lot more—during his first few weeks as a hustler.

“Are you really a hustler?” Like so many johns, this one seemed excited by the possibility. Luc recognized the phenomenon. The more promiscuous and slutty a male whore presumably was, the more aroused such a john got.

“I’m not standing out here in hopes of catching a cool breeze, because there isn’t any.” Luc punctuated this statement with a seductive little laugh.

“Do you have a place we can go to?”

“Sure. Not far away. A short walk.”

“How much do you charge?”

“Fifty for an hour,” Luc said, shamelessly. Among the things he’d learned was not to sell himself too cheaply. He was good looking enough, and a good enough lay, by Cherbourg’s standards, to start the bidding high and then negotiate the price downward—but only if he was dealing with the kind of a tightwad john who made that absolutely necessary. “Two hundred for all night. More, if you want certain extras.”

“What kind of extras?”

“Anything kinky.”

“I’m only interested in the basics. Oral—and I want to fuck you.”

“That doesn’t cost extra,” Luc assured him. “I like to get fucked.”

“Let’s go.”

Since the night he’d turned his first tricks, Luc had been staying at the cheap hotel Pierre had taken him to. He was making enough money to pay a weekly rate for his room. He entertained his johns there, and he slept there, but otherwise he spent as little time on the grim premises as possible. He’d befriended the desk clerk, whose name was Jean-Claude, and who continued to steer business Luc’s way. Any time a guest checked in and inquired about the neighborhood’s gay scene, Jean-Claude took care to tell him about the hotel’s new male whore in residence. He even had stored on his cell phone a photo of Luc, stripped down to the smallest and most revealing of bikini briefs, so the men could see his body as well as his face. Showing that usually clinched the deal.

Luc’s short term ambition was to earn enough money, and save enough of it, to move to a better place. He might have to break down and find a conventional job—one which would still leave him free to prostitute himself after dark.

He flattered himself that he had what it took to be a successful male whore. It wasn’t a question of just being young, of possessing a handsome face, a good body, a big cock, and a reliable sex drive. Anybody could be a dumb whore and allow himself to be exploited and used up. A smart whore avoided getting into trouble with the police, and he learned how to read people, assessing potential johns quickly, developing an instinct about which ones were safe, as opposed to those who seemed weird and who could be difficult, or indeed downright dangerous. The latter weren’t worth dealing with, even if that made Luc miss out on their money.  He wasn’t supporting a drug habit, and he was no longer homeless. As a result, he wasn’t so desperate that he had to go with just anybody.

Luc also acknowledged that, in a strange way, he was indebted to Perceur. Thanks to his brutish cellmate’s unrelenting use of him during his stretch in prison, Luc had shed any inhibitions or shame about sex which he may have had, previously. His relationship with Perceur hadn’t been all one-sided exploitation. After the first few days and nights, the big man had become rather enamored of Luc. He’d staunchly protected Luc from the other horny inmates. Any guy foolish enough to make a pass at Luc received a stern warning or a beat down from Perceur. As a result, the cons let Luc alone.

Luc was Perceur’s bitch, of course, expected to obey his cellmate’s every whim. But Luc had to admit that Perceur was, in his rough way, an experienced, inventive, and good lover. The guy really enjoyed sex. Each night, after lights out, he and Luc stripped naked and made hot, sweaty, athletic love. There wasn’t a part of each other’s bodies which they didn’t explore and stimulate, not only with their hands, but with their lips and tongues. Luc sucked Perceur’s cock and took it up his ass. He rimmed Perceur, licked his armpits and his balls, and even kissed and licked his big bare feet, sucking on his toes. Luc’s tongue lapped at Perceur’s tattooed skin, stroking and wetting it from head to toe. He used his mouth on Perceur’s piercings, licking the nipple rings, the navel ring, and the guiche inserted in his perineum—as well as the Prince Albert in the head of his dick, of course. Perceur liked to have Luc take his rings between his teeth and tug on them, inflicting pain on him, and Luc learned to get off on doing that to the man.

But Perceur, to do him justice, reciprocated, doing to Luc everything which Luc did to him—with the exception of the piercings play, because Luc didn’t have any piercings.

Thanks to Perceur, too, Luc had improved as a chess player. The cellmates had usually played a few games together, to kill time between the evening meal and lights off—after which, of course, they’d invariably moved on to other recreational activities.

Well, Luc reflected, that was all in the past, now. Perceur had been a bit upset when, having served his time, Luc had been released. He and Luc had enjoyed a final night of frenzied, nonstop sex together in their cell, neither of them getting much sleep.

No doubt Perceur had another cellmate now, whom he was breaking in. At this hour of the night, in fact, the two cons were probably going at it right now, even as Luc led his john to the hotel! Perceur no doubt had his cock up the other guy’s ass, fucking the hell out of him. And he’d probably forgotten all about Luc, who’d served his purpose, so far as Perceur was concerned...

Jean-Claude gave Luc a knowing look and a nod when Luc and the married man entered the lobby and headed toward the elevator.

The john was all over Luc as they got undressed in the depressing little room, insisting on pulling down Luc’s jeans himself, and dropping to his knees on the floor to suck his cock for a few minutes. He was good at it, sliding his lips smoothly and rapidly back and forth on the sturdy sex organ, and swabbing it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” he gasped, when he finally pulled his mouth off the cock, which now gleamed with his saliva. “That thing really feels good in my mouth! Tastes good, too. If only my wife had a dick!”

Luc had to fight back laughter at that somewhat peculiar remark.

“Turn around,” the married man told him. “Now I want to suck your ass!”

Obeying, Luc bent over, reaching out with both arms to brace himself on the edge of the mattress on the nearby bed. His customer wasted no time. Burying his face between Luc’s buttocks, the man licked the hustler’s anal pucker before penetrating it with his tongue. Gripping Luc’s buttocks tightly, with his fingers keeping the ass cheeks spread wide apart and digging into them, the guy began to fuck Luc’s asshole with his tongue. He was as skilled at rimming as he was at fellatio, and each time he thrust his tongue into the hole, Luc felt a fresh spasm of intense pleasure ripple through him.

Finally, the kneeling man pulled his tongue out of Luc’s ass.

“Get on the bed,” he panted. “I want to fuck you now!”

“Yeah, shove it up my ass, man!” Luc invited him. “How do you want to do it? Which position?”

“You lie face down, and let me lie on top of you.”

“Sure.”

The john took the lubricant which Luc kept out on top of the nightstand, and he used it to slick up his cock. Then, while applying some more of the lube to Luc’s ass, the guy played with his hole, pushing two of his fingers back and forth inside it.

“Hot ass,” he commented. “Damn, my dick is hard!”

The john took his fingers out of Luc and got on top of him, deftly placing his own legs outside of Luc’s, on either side. His weight came down on Luc’s body, his chest pressing against the boy’s back, and then Luc felt the thick cockhead start to press into his behind, forcing his lube-smeared sphincter ring wide open. For a moment there was a hint of discomfort, but it passed so quickly that Luc hardly noticed it before it was gone. He could feel his anus being filled with the rigid bulk of the man’s cock. It slipped deep into Luc’s asshole without any difficulty at all, and, pushing down, the guy was able to drive his horny prick all the way up the young male prostitute’s unresisting ass.

“Oh, God,” the man groaned. “That feels so good! If only my wife would let me fuck her in the ass!”

To Luc, it didn’t sound as though his john’s marital sex life was very satisfactory. But that was his business, and his tough luck. Luc’s task was to give the guy his money’s worth, and, Luc hoped, earn a tip.

“You’re quite a stud,” he complimented his customer, managing to sound entirely sincere. “Don’t hold back. Don’t worry about hurting me. Go ahead and fuck the hell out of my ass. I like it.”

Now that he had his cock jammed up a handsome, well-built young man’s ass, the john seemed determined to make the most of it. He fucked Luc nonstop for a long time, showing no signs that he was getting close to coming.

And the guy wanted to try out different positions.

“Sit on it,” he told Luc, at one point.

The married man withdrew his prick from Luc, but only long enough for him to lie on his back, and Luc to squat over him. Once Luc had sat down, impaling himself on the erection, his client resumed screwing him, every bit as energetically as before. While he fucked Luc, he grabbed the boy’s own stiff dick and massaged it.

“Oh, that’s a nice big dick,” the john said. “And I can’t get enough of that ass of yours! How does it feel, son?” he asked Luc, eagerly. “Good? Does it feel good?”

Luc nodded his head, and he began to lift himself and then descend, moving up and down on the cock in his butt, recklessly fucking himself on it. “It feels really good,” he assured his john. “I haven’t been fucked like this, this well, in a long time!” That was a lie, but flattery was part of a whore’s job. This john was a decent enough guy. Luc wished he’d hurry up and come, though. If they ran too far over the hour, Luc might have to find some delicate way of asking for additional money. As a rule, he didn’t like to do that, because of the risk of annoying the john.

Luc decided he didn’t want to do anything to antagonize this guy. He was presumably a local, not a visitor from out of town, and as a married man whose wife evidently couldn’t fulfil his needs, he was a good candidate for a repeat customer. Luc already had a few regulars who kept coming back to him for more of the same.

He also decided he might as well relax—to the extent that he could relax, in his aroused state!—go with the flow, and enjoy the sex.

And so Luc rode the guy, rather slowly and cautiously at first, until the heat and fullness and pressure of cock inside his ass began to get the better of him, truly turning him on. Then Luc started to slide up and down on the impaling erection with harder, more energetic, more ass-punishing strokes. He grunted with lewd, bestial delight while that cock continued to ream out his butt.

And, by closing his eyes and blotting out all thoughts of the other man as a person, concentrating only on the feeling of the john’s prick inside his asshole, Luc succeeded in enjoying himself. He couldn’t deny it—the anal pounding he was being given did feel good. He hadn’t been lying when he’d admitted that he liked being fucked. And this john had impressive stamina. Real staying power!

“Now, you get on your back, put your legs up over my shoulders, and we’ll finish up like that,” the man dictated.

“Great,” Luc agreed, relieved that the end of this anal marathon now seemed within reach.

In this new position, the man once again masturbated Luc while he fucked him. “Let me know when you’re just about ready to pop, and maybe we can shoot off together,” the john suggested.

“Yeah.” The hand job was having its inevitable effect on Luc. “Fuck me, man! Come in my ass, shoot your load right up in there. Fill me with your goddamn jizz. Fill my asshole with it!”

“Are you close, son? Are you going to shoot?”

“Yeah!”

“Real close?”

“Fuck, yeah!” Luc cried. “I can’t hold it back, you’re going to make me come! Any second, now!”

“Don’t worry, I’m with you all the way. Let it go. Let it all come out! Let me see that cum fly out of your cock!”

“Uh, here it comes—!” Luc warned.

“I’m going to blow, too!”

Luc felt the hot liquid begin to blast out of his fisted cock, with the force of so many liquid bullets being shot from a firearm. Wet spurt followed wet spurt, splashing onto his face, his chest, and his belly, and dripping in a white froth down over the married man’s milking fist when the initial velocity slowed. And all the while, answering each hot gush of Luc’s creamy semen with a spurt of his own male seed, the john’s cock exploded repeatedly deep inside the boy’s well-fucked, reamed out ass.

Afterward, the married man got dressed quickly.

“Got to get home,” he explained, apologetically. “I want to see you again, though. Can I have your number?”

“Of course.” Luc gave the guy his cell phone number. “Call me any time, and we’ll get together.”

“Here’s your money.” The man handed Luc the fifty euros, plus a thirty euro tip.

“Thanks.” Luc was genuinely pleased.

“Thank you—for the fuck.”

Luc smiled. “My pleasure. Say, what’s your name? So I’ll know who it is when you call.”

The man hesitated. “You can call me Marc.”

Another pseudonym, Luc was certain. “Fine,” he said.

The man left.

Naked, Luc washed himself thoroughly in the bathroom, and then he stretched himself out comfortably on the bed. He was trying to summon enough energy to get up, get dressed, and go out again, when there was a knock on the door.

Luc guessed it might be the john, “Marc,” who’d forgotten something and had returned to get it. “Who’s there?” he asked.

“It’s me, Jean-Claude.”

“Oh. It’s not locked. Come in.”

Jean-Claude entered the room, grinning and swaggering. He took a good look at Luc’s nude body, displayed so casually yet provocatively on the bed.

“How’s business?” Jean-Claude asked.

Luc shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Could be better. Who’s minding the desk?”

“No one. I put out the sign saying I’m on a break, and they should call my cell number if they need anything.”

“Is this a social call?”

“Yes and no. I’ve been thinking. I’ve been setting you up with a lot of customers.”

“Yeah, and I appreciate it.”

“Appreciation doesn’t pay my bills. Most guys—when they have an arrangement like this—well, they make it a little more formal. If I’m going to go on pimping for you, I think I ought to get a cut, from every trick I set up for you.”

“A cut!” Luc exploded. “What kind of a rip-off are you trying to pull, man? You make sure every john you get me slips you money, himself.”

“Yeah, but that can be awkward, sometimes.”

“I’m sure you always manage it. If you want more money, just put the touch on the suckers for a little more cash, each time.”

“It’d be more convenient to collect it directly from you.”

“Convenient for you. I’m the one who has to put out for these guys. How much are we talking about?”

“Ten euros a shot. That’s not so much, is it?”

“It’s still ten leaving my pocket. Shit! I do all right, working the bars and the street. I don’t really need the dates you scrounge up for me in here.”

“No? You think not? Sure, you do all right out there—until you get busted.”

Jean-Claude had tapped into Luc’s secret fear.

“Shit,” Luc repeated, sullenly. “You think you’ve got me bent over and ready for you to screw, do you?” But Luc wanted to stay on Jean-Claude’s good side, to keep the stream of johns flowing. “All right,” Luc grumbled. “I give in. I suppose you want your first payment right now?”

“No, we can start off fresh tomorrow, that’ll be fine. Hey, you want to do some coke, to seal the deal?”

“Only if it’s free,” Luc said, sarcastically. “From now on, I won’t have any spare cash to spend on getting high!” The truth was, he avoided recreational drugs whenever possible, although some of the johns wanted him to get high with them.

Jean-Claude laughed. “We’ve done our business. This is pleasure.” He pulled from his pocket a small zippered pouch. Opening it, he removed a vial of cocaine, a small hand mirror, a razor blade, and a little metal tube, resembling a section of a drinking straw. “Mind if I get comfortable?” he asked Luc.

“No, go right ahead.”

Jean-Claude stripped. Naked, he prepared the lines of coke, and he and Luc snorted them.

“Know something?” Jean-Claude asked.

“No, what?”

“I’ve been jerking off thinking about you, ever since you moved into this dump.” The desk clerk was already holding his cock in his hand, stroking it. He got hard quickly, as the coke kicked in.

Luc began to feel its effects, too. “I’m flattered.”

“How about a sample of what you’ve been selling? That way, when I tell a guy about you, I can vouch for your performance based on my personal experience.”

Shit! Luc thought. First he shakes me down for money—for a cut of my hard-earned cash. And now he wants sex from me, on top of it—for free, of course! But aloud he said only, “Sure, why not?”

Once they embraced, and Luc could feel as well as see Jean-Claude’s muscular body and stiff dick, pressed against his own nakedness, he got genuinely excited, and his instincts took over. Just pretend he’s another john, he told himself.

“Suck me,” Jean-Claude urged. He straddled Luc’s chest and offered his big cock to Luc’s lips, and with a whore’s lack of inhibition, Luc caught the hard-on immediately in his mouth and sucked it back into his throat. His basic professionalism kicked in, alongside the coke, and he began to give Jean-Claude a first-class blow job.

“Aw, fuck, that’s a hot mouth!” Jean-Claude exulted. “A real moneymaker.”

Jean-Claude rocked his pelvis back and forth while he sat on Luc’s chest and held Luc’s head in his hands, fucking the boy’s face. Eventually, they changed their positions on the bed and lay side by side on the rumpled sheets, sucking each other’s dicks. Luc felt a surge of unfeigned lust well up inside him as the sixty-nine continued. Jean-Claude was an arrogant bastard, and although he wasn’t unattractive, he was no male model when it came to his facial looks. But he had a decent body and a big cock, which was what Luc was interested in at moment.

Luc felt exhilarated and wild, naked in bed with the other young man, with Jean-Claude’s cock inside his mouth and Jean-Claude sucking his own cock in return, and the guy’s warm hands caressing him. In his growing frenzy, Luc kissed and licked and sucked Jean-Claude’s hairy balls, and he began to work his way between his thighs, along his perineum muscle, trying to work his tongue back to his asshole.

Obligingly, Jean-Claude stopped sucking Luc, and he got up on his hands and knees, while Luc maneuvered behind him. “Rim it,” Jean-Claude invited Luc. “Suck my ass for me.” Luc lapped at the crack of Jean-Claude’s ass, and he used both of his hands to masturbate himself and his bedmate at the same time. With Luc hungrily licking Jean-Claude’s ass, the two young men came together, moaning and squirting their jism onto the bed. When they were both drained of their sperm, they fell onto the mattress and lay quietly in each other’s arms, nuzzling and cuddling.

Then they sat up, and snorted more coke.

“I’m still horny,” Jean-Claude confessed.

“Me, too.”

“I could go again. And probably come again. How about you?”

“I guess I could go another round, too,” Luc said.

“You got any grease?” Jean-Claude asked.

“Of course. An essential tool of the trade, you know. Right here.” Luc picked up the lube from the nightstand, beside the bed. Jean-Claude took the lube from him and he rubbed some of it onto his big dick, which was stiffening and thickening again.

“I want to fuck you, dude,” Jean-Claude said, in a husky whisper,

“Why not? Be my guest. They all want to screw me. Why should you be any different?”

“You’re such a whore.”

“Yeah? Tell me something we both don’t already know. So I’m a whore. So what?” Luc rolled onto his stomach, eager to have the other young man’s big cock inside him, now that he’d been primed and warmed up by the highly satisfying fuck which Marc had given him only a little while previously. His ass was definitely ready for some more action. He spread his legs wide, and he waited to be penetrated again.

Jean-Claude looked at Luc’s broad shoulders and back, admiring the way they tapered down to his narrow waist and indented hips, only to flare out again in the twin globes of his powerfully muscled ass, which was now thrust in the air, waiting for him. There was no doubt about it—the whore was a beautiful young man! A smug, cynical smile played on Jean-Claude’s lips under his thick, silky mustache, as he mounted Luc’s body and he began to push his slippery cockhead between the blond boy’s enticingly smooth, round, hairless buttocks.

“I think this is going to be the start of a good business arrangement, buddy,” he grunted, as his dick penetrated Luc’s relaxed anus, inch after thick inch, and Luc moaned in acceptance and encouragement. “Yeah, something good, something profitable—for both of us, huh, you whore?”

But Luc didn’t necessarily agree. Even while he was submitting, letting the greedy bastard fuck him, and enjoying Jean-Claude’s use of his manhole, he was deciding that he needed to find himself another place to live, and as soon as possible.

Give Jean-Claude a cut of his income? Not for any length of time, Luc vowed. Fuck that shit! Luc would pay up, as long as he still lived in this dump, and the desk clerk continued to pimp for him. But once Luc was set up in a halfway decent apartment, and he could afford to get his own website, on which he could advertise his services—then he would no longer need Jean-Claude’s referrals. He could freelance. As for providing the guy with free sex on an ongoing basis, as well—Luc would let the guy screw him, just this once. Well, maybe a few more times, in light of the fact that he seemed to be doing a good job of satisfying Luc’s ass. After that, though, Jean-Claude could go fuck himself!

Chapter Six: Sailor’s Delight

Entering his studio apartment, a weary Luc sighed with relief. It was good to be home—such as it was.

The space was essentially a long, narrow rectangle, with a kitchenette tucked inside one alcove, and doors opening into a clothes closet and the bathroom in another. Large windows at least let in plenty of light, but this also revealed the rather depressing shabbiness of the décor, and the lack of luxuries.

The apartment was rented unfurnished, but Luc had managed to equip it with a bed, a chest of drawers, a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a few other bits and pieces—all bought second hand. His flat screen television was of modest dimensions. He served himself his meals on the coffee table.

Luc had the space set up with his bed at the far end, and the couch, armchair, and coffee table nearer to the front door. The “bedroom” and the “living room” were separated by a folding screen. Going behind the screen, Luc tossed his keys onto the nightstand beside the bed, and he began to strip.

Naked, he went into the bathroom. He felt hot, sweaty, and sticky after his last trick, and the hot shower felt good. It wasn’t late by Luc’s standards—not yet midnight—but he told himself he was definitely done working for the night. Hustling, he had already realized, could be damn hard work. A female whore could always just suck cock and spread her legs and get fucked. But a male prostitute was expected to get and sustain an erection, at the very least, and he was also usually expected to ejaculate, at least once, during the course of a paid sex session with a john. This could take a toll on even the most potent young stud.

Luc was beginning to understand why some of the young guys in his profession resorted to prescription drugs designed to combat erectile dysfunction. Until he’d started hustling, Luc had always assumed that these drugs were something middle-aged and old men availed themselves of. Fortunately, he hadn’t encountered any difficulties in the potency area yet. If he ever did, one of Luc’s fellow hustlers had told him about a gay doctor who’d supply him, in exchange for sex.

Drying off, Luc pulled on a pair of shorts. He retrieved his cell phone from the pocket of his discarded trousers, and he sat down on the couch. He supposed he ought to check his phone for text messages, and, while he was at it, turn on his laptop and read any e-mails he may have received. There could be customers trying to contact him to set up appointments. But, slightly turned off by the whole idea of sex at the moment, Luc was tempted to let that go until the morning. Instead, he thought he might see what was on television, before he went to bed and got some much-needed sleep.

But, even as he reached for the remote control, his phone rang.

“Shit,” Luc muttered. He wanted to ignore it, but then, impulsively, he answered. “Luc, here.”

“Hey! I can’t believe I got hold of you right away.” The male voice at the other end of the connection sounded youthful, and the speaker slurred his words a little, as though he was drinking, or under the influence of recreational drugs, or both.

“Lucky you,” Luc said. Luc heard music and voices in the background, and he guessed that his caller was phoning from a bar.

“I know it’s short notice, but are you available tonight?”

Luc thought about it. What the fuck! Business was business. No matter how tired he was, he really couldn’t afford to turn paying customers away. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Good! I’m a sailor—my ship just got in this afternoon.”

“Navy, or merchant marine?”

“Navy. Do you like sailors, Luc?”

“Who in Cherbourg doesn’t like sailors? Especially when they’re on shore leave, and they have their pay in their pockets, to spend.”

The sailor laughed. “That’s a good one!  Hey, before we got into port, I got on my laptop, looking for places to go here, and things to do, and I saw your website. Those photos of you are damn hot! Are they recent ones?”

Now it was Luc’s turn to laugh. “Very recent. I’m not some older dude posting pictures of himself that are ten or fifteen years old, if that’s what you’re worried about. What you see is what you get.”

“Do you like to get fucked?”

“I love it.”

“I’d like to fuck you.”

“That’s easy enough to arrange.”

“How much do you charge?”

Luc’s rates were posted on his website, but presumably the sailor had turned off his computer, or he was away from it, and he had a short memory.

“For an hour, for two hours, or overnight?” Luc asked.

“An hour.”

“Sixty euros,” Luc said, shamelessly. His standard posted hourly rate was fifty, but he wasn’t averse to taking advantage of the john’s memory loss. “And tipping is always appreciated,” he added, just as brazenly, “when I do a good job. And I always do a good job,” he bragged.

“Okay. What part of the city are you in? I seem to recall—the website said, near the harbor—?”

“That’s right.” Luc gave the man his address.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can get a cab.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

They hung up. It then occurred to Luc that he didn’t even know the john’s name. But that information wasn’t strictly necessary. The denominations of his banknotes were the crucial data.

Luc turned down the bed, and he made sure he had lubricant and a trick towel set out on the nightstand, within easy reach. That was the extent of his preparations to receive his visitor. The guy could take pot luck.

The sailor must have been calling from somewhere nearby, probably one of the city’s many waterfront bars. Barely fifteen minutes elapsed before Luc’s intercom buzzed.

“I’m here, Luc,” the john reported, over the device.

“Hold on.” Luc pressed the button to unlock the downstairs door. “Is it open?”

“Yeah.”

“Come right up. Fourth floor. When you step out of the elevator, it’s the second door on your right.”

“Got it.”

Luc opened his door and stood there, so his visitor wouldn’t have to knock.

He was surprised. The sailor, in uniform, was a young guy, two or three years older than Luc at the most. He was black-haired and olive-skinned, almost swarthy, and not bad-looking, but he was definitely drunk.

“You do look hot,” he told Luc, by way of greeting.

“Thanks. Come on in.”

Ordinarily, when entertaining a john during an in call, Luc would offer the man a drink. But that seemed unnecessary, and indeed counterproductive, on this occasion.

“The cab driver didn’t have any trouble finding the address, obviously,” Luc remarked.

“No.” The sailor was trying to keep his bleary eyes focused on Luc’s face and body. He reached out and touched the hustler’s bare chest with the flat of his hand. “Damn! Nice pecs!”

Smiling, Luc made no effort to pull away from the caressing hand. “Do you like being in the navy?”

“You bet. I grew up on a farm near Angers. You couldn’t find much gay action there. Every goddamn seaport we drop anchor in, though—shit! I never have any trouble getting laid.”

“That’s nice.”

“I don’t mind paying for it, though, if I have to.”

Luc was about to ask the guy his name, when his trick forestalled him.

“If we’ve only got an hour, come on, get naked,” the sailor urged. “Let’s fuck!”

“No problem. This way—” Luc led the other young man behind the screen, into his “bedroom.” There, Luc shed his shorts, and his guest undressed quickly, dropping his clothes on the floor beside the bed.

Once they were both lying naked on top of Luc’s sheets, Luc became nothing more than a hole for the sailor to stick his cock into.

“I want to fuck you,” the young john kept insisting. “I want to shove my dick up your ass!”

Ordinarily, Luc wouldn’t have argued with this proposal, or sought to delay carrying it out. He had no qualms about spreading his ass for a paying customer. But, whenever possible, he did try to enjoy his work. Even though he was being paid for sex, his philosophy was that he might as well get some pleasure out of it, himself.

But this intoxicated young number didn’t seem keen on reciprocation. He seemed obsessed by Luc’s ass, to the exclusion of just about everything else.

Luc resisted the guy at first, trying to cajole him into giving a little something to Luc in return for what he was going to get. But it was obvious after a few minutes that this was going to be strictly one-sided sex, with the customer eventually getting his rocks off in the way he insisted upon, with no detours along the way.

When Luc rolled his bedmate on top of his body and tried to push him down to suck his dick, the sailor countered by raising himself back up and trying to shove his own limp dick into Luc’s mouth, instead. Luc licked the flaccid member casually, and he tried playing with the man’s balls and ass, thinking he might get turned on by that. But Luc’s efforts only made his drunken young john go after Luc’s butt more aggressively, with a single-minded determination.

“I want to fuck you!” the sailor insisted.

“Well, you’re going to have to get it hard, first,” Luc retorted, rather tactlessly.

“Shit—my frigging dick just doesn’t seem to want to get up—I want to stick it in your hole, anyway,” his bedmate mumbled.

Finally, Luc stopped fighting it, and he let the other guy try to screw him. He was too bored to care who put what up whom and where any longer, and he wanted only to get it over with as fast as possible, so he could collect his money and get rid of the drunk.

Luc put his legs up over the guy’s shoulders, and the sailor moved in tight against Luc’s butt. He was too drunk to maintain a stiff erection, though, and once he managed to get his dick in the boy, he kept slipping out, and they’d have to start the whole tedious process all over again. Finally, after the horny sailor’s fourth or fifth unsuccessful try at fucking Luc, the hustler decided he’d had enough, and he dropped his muscular legs back onto the bed.

“Lie on your back,” Luc grumbled. “I’ll sit on it. Maybe that’ll work out better.”

They changed positions, and Luc squatted over the drunken mariner’s crotch. He took the lube from the nightstand and applied more of it to the man’s cock, and then he did the same to his own asshole. Holding the cheeks of his ass spread apart with one hand, Luc gripped the other man’s dick with his other hand and he began to administer a brisk hand job. Fortunately, the stubborn male organ responded to the massage by swelling and hardening. Soon, the sailor’s cock was impressively rigid, and Luc took advantage of its tumescence. He slowly sat down on it. He had to struggle to get the large cockhead in his hole, but once it was securely in there, the rest of the hard-on slipped easily inside his anus. Luc rested on the guy for a moment, getting used to the feel of the now quite potent prick in his ass.

“How is it, buddy?” the sailor asked, eagerly. “Is it good?”

Luc nodded his head, and he began to lift himself up and down on the cock in his butt. By doing his frequent trick of closing his eyes and refusing to acknowledge his john as an individual, reducing him to just a body and an erection, it did feel good. And, after all, Luc hadn’t been lying or exaggerating when he’d admitted he liked to get fucked. After those sixty nights of lust he’d shared with Perceur in the slammer, when his cellmate had reamed him out more than sixty times, sometimes wanting to fuck Luc twice or three times in one night, it would be hypocritical of Luc to pretend otherwise! And ever since his release from prison, anal intercourse, whether giving or receiving it, had been his most profitable stock in trade.

Luc rode the matelot slowly and cautiously at first, until the steady, warm pressure exerted by his ass made the guy’s cock firm and hard, and Luc knew he could lunge up and down on it with harder, more energetic strokes. He rocked his hips from side to side, taking the dick from different angles, increasing the pleasure for his customer—and for himself.

His own cock began to stiffen as Luc quickened the pace, but when he began to jerk off, the john’s hand pushed his hand away, and his fingers took over the job.

“Let me do it. Come, stud!” he moaned. “Shoot it! Shoot it off! Let me see that big pecker of yours go off! Squirt your hot juice all over me, all over my chest. Let me see you come!”

“If that’s what you want, then go on fucking me. Fuck the cum right out of me, dude. Fuck me!” Luc bounced faster, his cock moving inside the guy’s milking fist in the same tempo in which the sailor’s dick was plunging in and out of his asshole. It had been a day or two since the last time a john had wanted to do the fucking, and Luc’s bunghole felt tight around the guy’s tool, feeling every quiver of the cock in him pulse strongly against his stretched-open sphincter ring. “Fuck me!” Luc reiterated, almost angrily. “Come on, you horny bastard. Fuck my ass. Make us both come!”

“I’m just waiting for you, stud,” the other young man gasped. “I’m just holding it back, waiting for you to shoot first!” His other hand cupped in under Luc’s big balls and squeezed them, while his fist pistoned the boy’s thick cock. “Come on, buddy. Let’s see that hot fuck juice come squirting out of your big dick, all over me!”

Luc threw back his head and a choking sob of pleasure gargled up from his throat. He began to ejaculate, at last. A moment later, while Luc’s cock was still spraying its thick white droplets of jism onto the other guy’s belly and chest, Luc felt the sailor’s dick bursting wetly inside his ass, answering each hot spurt from Luc’s cock with a spurt from his.

Luc slipped off the matelot quickly and rolled onto his back on the bed, while the john got up unsteadily, and reached for the trick towel to wipe himself off. Luc was exhausted, ready to crawl into bed and call it a night.

“You’ve got one hell of a nice ass,” the sailor said. “I’d like stay and fuck around some more. But I have to get back to my ship.” He began to retrieve his clothes from the floor.

“Ah, not so fast. The money?” Luc reminded the sailor, when the guy was dressed in his uniform again, and he’d turned toward the door.

“Oh, yeah. That was sure worth it.”

“Glad you were pleased. Thanks,” Luc said, after his trick handed over the sixty euros they’d agreed on, plus a ten euro tip.

He walked the befuddled sailor to the door, nudged him out into the hallway, and unceremoniously closed and locked the door again.

Luc cleaned himself up with a washcloth at the bathroom sink, and then, still naked, he stretched himself out comfortably on the bed and consulted his laptop, calling up his bank account information online.

He was doing all right, he decided, for a guy who’d gotten out of prison only recently, and who at one point had been reduced to selling himself via street and bar pickups. By leading an austere, no-frills existence, trying to spend money only on essentials, he’d actually managed to start saving some money.

Jean-Claude had been pissed off, when Luc had moved out of the hotel. But the desk clerk would get over it. And he’d no doubt find some other hustler, to pimp out to the horny gay men who checked into the hotel.

Luc’s new apartment, in a working class neighborhood near the waterfront, wasn’t much, but it was an improvement on his room back at the hotel, and it was cheap. The utilities were included in the rent, because the owner had never gone to the trouble and expense of having separate meters installed for the apartments. Luc usually made his own meals in the kitchenette, avoiding eating out. Sometimes, though, a customer wanted to take him out for dinner, before they had sex.

Hooked up now to the internet, Luc also had his own website, where he advertised his services. The website, which he’d had designed by a guy he’d met who did such things for a living, cost money to set up and maintain, but it had turned out to be a good investment. No more loitering outdoors or cruising bars to peddle his mouth, cock, and ass. Now Luc could wait for the johns to contact him—and they did. He did both in and out calls. Some johns wanted him to come to their home or, if they were visitors from out of town, to a hotel. Others wanted to come to his place. Still others wanted to meet somewhere first, to check out the merchandise in person.

He was doing a brisk business, especially catering to the tourist trade. There was one advantage to being a call boy in a smaller city like Cherbourg. In a metropolis like Paris, Luc would be just another male whore. Here in his home town, he had less competition.

Yawning, Luc turned out the lights and went to bed.

He fell asleep at once. He’d enjoyed a couple of hours of sleep when a strange buzzing sound awakened him. He sat up in the bed. Confused at first, he then realized that it was the intercom.

“What the fuck—!” Switching on the small lamp on the nightstand, Luc got out of bed and stumbled, nude, to the front door. He got on the intercom.

“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you want?” Luc snapped.

“It’s us,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

“Who’s us?”

“We’re friends of Matthieu.”

“I don’t know any Matthieu. You must have the wrong apartment, or the wrong address.”

“But Matthieu told us he was here, a couple of hours ago. He said he had a good time.”

Luc groaned. “Let me guess. Your buddy Matthieu is a sailor? A navy man?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re sailors, too.”

“You bet. And proud of it.”

“How many of you are there?”

“You mean on board our ship?”

“No, down there in the lobby.”

“Oh. Just us two.”

“Well, go away.”

“Aren’t you a whore? Matthieu said he paid you to let him fuck you, and it was really great sex.”

“I’m glad he thought so,” Luc said, sarcastically. “But I’m closed for the night. I want to get some sleep.”

“Aw, come on, man!” the sailor coaxed. “Let us come up. We’ve got money. Cash.”

Luc thought of a way to discourage them.

“It’ll cost you eighty euros apiece,” he said.

“Eighty! Shit! Matthieu told us you charged him sixty.”

“After midnight, there’s a surcharge,” Luc declared.

“All right. Eighty each it is.”

“Damn,” Luc muttered under his breath. He was tired, and grouchy as a result of having been roused from his bed. He was tempted to tell the two men to fuck off. But he was afraid they might persist, and make a ruckus which might awaken and annoy some of his neighbors, there on the ground floor of the building. And if fate had brought a hundred and sixty euros to his door, Luc wasn’t the man who was going to turn that money down.

Should’ve quoted them a price of a hundred each, he thought. These horny bastards would probably have been willing to pay it!

I don’t understand why these gay navy men pay for sex. Why don’t they just screw each other, for free?

But it’d put a crimp in my business, if they did.

“Come in,” he said, in a resigned tone of voice. “Fourth floor, second door on your right when you get off the elevator. But for Christ’s sake, keep it quiet.” He hit the button to unlock the downstairs door.

This was déjà vu, indeed!

When the men showed up at his apartment door, Luc saw that they were about the same age as their shipmate, Matthieu. Both sailors were in uniform. One was a head taller than his companion. The taller guy had short dark hair, and his buddy had somewhat longer, dirty blond hair and a mustache. They’d probably been drinking, but they must’ve gotten a later start than Matthieu had, because neither of them seemed particularly impaired. Neither of them was unattractive—but at this hour of night, and in Luc’s present state of mind, that was a secondary consideration for him. His primary concern was getting them in and out, as quickly and efficiently as possible, so he could go back to bed—alone.

“Shit, dude, you’re naked!” the taller one said, with glee. “Ready for us, huh?”

“I was in bed,” Luc replied. “Asleep. Come in. And like I said—keep the noise down. It’s late.”

“Sure,” the shorter guy agreed.

“Your names?” Luc demanded, rather curtly. In his mood, he didn’t feel like addressing his uninvited guests as “Hey, you.”

“Andre,” the taller one said. “And this is my buddy, Giles.”

“Nice to meet you.” Luc struggled to prevent himself from sounding sarcastic. “Come this way. Take off your clothes.”

He led the sailors behind the screen, into the inner sanctum, the place where the lusts of men vented themselves, and they found temporary respite from their tormenting desires.

Chapter Seven: Open for Business All Night

Luc found himself on his bed with a naked and very erect sailor on either side of him. When Giles and Andre had shed their clothes, Giles had taken a bottle of liquid poppers out of his trouser pocket. He set the vial down on the nightstand, next to Luc’s lube.

Andre kissed Luc hard on the lips, his tongue plunging deep inside his mouth. The kiss had its inevitable effect. Luc felt himself responding, casting aside his fatigue. But his cock had already been given quite a workout by a succession of johns during the past few hours, and although it stirred within the warm, sweaty grasp of Andre’s hand, it got only semi-hard. In order to compensate for his dick’s sluggish response, Luc opened his mouth wide and greedily sucked Andre’s slippery, wet tongue into his mouth, playing with it with his own tongue, licking and sucking.

Giles wanted to be kissed, too, and Luc gave him the same treatment with his lips and tongue, while Andre continued to stroke Luc’s cock, trying to coax it into real stiffness.

“Suck him, Andre,” Giles told his fellow mariner.

Luc felt Andre’s mouth on his cockhead. The sailor’s lips began to nurse the hustler’s semi-flaccid shaft, coaxing and cajoling it.

“Shit,” Luc said. “I’m not sure I can get it hard, guys.”

“Long, rough night, huh?” Giles suggested. “Didn’t our buddy Matthieu leave anything for us? Did he suck you dry? We’ll see. Here, have a hit.”

Unscrewing the cap of the little brown glass bottle, Giles held the bottle under Luc’s nose. The smell was sharp and penetrating, and when he inhaled, Luc immediately experienced a rush. As Giles snorted the poppers himself, Luc felt a wild hammering begin inside his chest and spread rapidly throughout his body, but especially to his brain and groin. He could feel his heart beating abnormally fast, his hot blood pounding through every artery and vein, rushing to fill every part of his body and surging with special violence through his cock—which was now gratifyingly hard and throbbing away inside Andre’s mouth.

“Yeah, that did the trick, I see,” Giles said.

“It sure did,” Luc replied. His hips and butt rose high from the mattress. His cock ached with sudden, undeniable need, and he thrust it blindly into Andre’s hot, wet face.

“That’s right, fuck his face,” Giles urged.

Andre blew Luc for some time, expertly. At last, he took a quick breath, pulling his mouth free from the saliva-soaked hard-on, and panting to get his breath back, while he massaged the cock with his hand. Giles offered Andre the poppers, and Andre treated himself to a good hit in each nostril.

“You want your cock sucked some more?” Andre asked Luc. “You want my hot mouth back on your dick, sucking it? Sucking that hot cum right out of you, buddy? You want to shoot your load right down my throat?”

“Yeah,” Luc gasped.

With his brain now completely under the influence of the amyl, Luc heard and understood the sailor’s lewd words with a startling vividness and immediacy, which made it sound as though Andre was already doing what he was only proposing to do. Suck! Luc could all but feel the wet, clasping warmth of a hungry, growling mouth rubbing it furiously up and down the full length of his hard cock. Cum! The boy groaned in excitement and anticipation, tensing and shuddering, as though the rich creamy semen was actually gushing from him. Right down my throat! He could almost hear and feel Andre choking on his thick hot load, as he shot it down the cocksucker’s greedy throat too fast and too heavily for him to swallow all at once.

“Yeah?” Andre echoed Luc, with a laugh. “You want it? Don’t worry, I’m going to give it to you. I’m going to suck this big fat prick of yours like it’s never been sucked before!” He took the poppers from Giles’ hand and snorted them, taking several deep whiffs before he handed it to Luc.

Inhaling repeatedly, Luc felt the potent, searing fumes seem to penetrate his entire body all at once and set it on fire from within. At the same time, Andre fulfilled his promise. Luc felt the heat and wetness and pressure of the sailor’s mouth once again surround his cock, sucking it hungrily and taking it quickly right down to the base.

Luc lost himself in the sudden, violent rush of pure, animal lust which gripped and held and shook him. He lay there between the other two naked men, gasping, his legs thrashing wildly, his body straining up to thrust his cock deeper into Andre’s throat. Luc’s fatigue was forgotten. He’d even forgotten that he was being paid for this! All that mattered, all that existed, was that hot mouth on his prick. His eyes were tightly closed, his every sense thrilling to that sweet, wet, tugging sensation of Andre’s smooth lips sucking him so passionately and with such devastating effect.

Luc fucked his prick furiously in and out of the sailor’s mouth, wanting to drive every inch of his manhood right down his throat.

“Andre’s a good cocksucker, isn’t he?” Giles asked, his hands running all over Luc’s heaving and twisting body, caressing and stroking it. “I think he’s blown half the guys on our ship, at one time or another. Of course, I’ve been busy blowing the other half! Come for him, stud. Shoot that hot scum right into his mouth. Right down the cocksucker’s horny throat!” Giles held the amyl bottle under Luc’s nose, and then under Andre’s. An instant later, as the hot rush hit him, Andre began sucking Luc even faster, as though he intended literally to devour the hustler’s cock!

With Andre blowing him so ferociously and a fresh rush of amyl blasting through his body and brain, Luc could take no more. His legs lifted high off the bed and wrapped around Andre’s shoulders, squeezing his head between them, smothering Andre’s face between Luc’s trembling, strong-muscled thighs. Luc’s cock was thrust all the way into the sailor’s mouth, the thick, pulsating head lodged in the back of his throat.

“You’d better be ready for it, because I’m coming,” Luc warned. “Take it, you cocksucker! Swallow my fucking cum!”

“Give it to him,” Giles urged. “Let the fucker have your cum!”

“Aw, fuck! I’m coming, all right,” Luc gasped.

“All of it,” Giles coached him. “Shoot it all in his mouth, stud1”

“Coming—!” Luc moaned.

Andre made a loud, strangulated, gurgling sound, as though he was retching. His mouth and throat were flooded with Luc’s hot semen. The surplus flow dribbled from the corners of his lips when it came too fast for Andre to swallow. Luc felt the jism dripping thickly down Andre’s chin and onto his own balls, and the sensation only made him shoot more forcefully. His load came gushing out of him, a fountain of sperm!

Refusing to back off, Andre stayed down on Luc’s erupting cock all the way, until he’d drained and consumed every drop of the boy’s sweet, fresh cum. When he finally did lift his mouth off Luc’s cock, the sailor pushed his face down against the boy’s balls, where he lapped up the semen which had trickled down over them, not wanting a single drop of the precious fluid to escape him.

Luc lay there, limp and exhausted, close to total collapse. He heard the sound of the popper bottle being unscrewed open again, and he flung his forearm across his face to keep it away from his nose. But this time the amyl wasn’t meant for him. He felt a heavy, clumsy rush of motion on the bed beside him, making the mattress shift, and then he heard a deep grunt rippling up from Andre’s throat. A moment later, the mattress began to rock back and forth with unusual violence, one end of it repeatedly hitting the headboard of the bed in a rhythm which Luc remembered all too well, from previous occasions when he and a john had indulged in a really rough fuck. The grunts of bestial excitement coming from the other two young men’s throats turned into a steady, hoarse roar of mutual lust and erotic abandon.

Curious, Luc turned his head, and he saw Andre beside him on the bed, supporting himself on his hands and knees, with his legs spread, and his ass thrust back and up. Andre’s close-cropped head was tossing wildly from side to side, his eyes were unfocused and glazed over with the amyl and lust, and a string of saliva was dribbling from his slack, panting mouth down his chin, from where it fell to the bed. He was being fucked from behind, doggy style, by Giles, whose thick hard prick, lubricated from the container on the nightstand, pumped in and out of Andre’s ass like a pile driver, reaming him out to the very depths of his rectum, while Andre moaned and shuddered, and begged his fellow sailor, “Harder! Oh, fuck me harder, man!”

Once again, Luc wondered why sailors went in search of gay action onshore, even paying for it, when they could easily hook up with each other, on board their ship. But it didn’t behoove him to look the gift horse in the mouth—or, in this case, up the ass!

The two navy men, having seemingly forgotten Luc for the time being, were really getting into it together. Passing the poppers back and forth between them, they humped with violent, jerky motions of their hips.

The shorter sailor was clearly enjoying buggering his taller buddy with such thoroughness and abandon. His thighs slapped loudly against his friend’s buttocks each time h drove his cock deep into his anus.

“Your ass feels like a cunt, buddy, only better,” Giles reported. “It’s tighter—hotter—and it’s really good to fuck!”

“Come in my ass,” Andre urged him.

“Sorry, I don’t think so, man. I can breed you any time, on the ship. I’m saving this load for Luc,” Giles said. He pulled out of Andre, who groaned in disappointment. “On your belly,” Giles told Luc. “I want to pound your butt, too.”

First, though, the three men passed the poppers around. When Giles eased his big cock between Luc’s anal opening and thrust it deep up into his butt, Luc felt that the sailor’s entire body was penetrating him. But the amyl eased the momentary discomfort, and it instantly put Luc in the mood to be fucked. He soon found himself in the thrall of lewd sensations which got hotter, more intense and varied, and more obscene, while Giles began to fuck him with the long-driving, rapid strokes Luc craved. It was good—damn good!

“Hurry up,” Andre told Giles. “I want to fuck him, too.”

Giles grunted. “What’s the rush? You’ll get your turn. What the hell—we’ve got all night.”

Luc groaned, as he squeezed his anal muscles to ensure the sailor a good, hot, tight ride. The prospect of his getting any more sleep tonight seemed to be fading away. But he was a professional, and his pride kicked in, making him determined to give his two horny customers their money’s worth.

“Fuck me, men,” he chanted. “Both of you. Fuck my ass!”

Chapter Eight: Reunited

One afternoon, Luc was taking a break. He took a stroll, in the course of which he went into a café on the waterfront. He ordered a coffee, and he sipped it while he people watched, idly speculating about which of the male tourists who walked past might be gay. He flattered himself that he spotted a number of potential johns.

When his cell phone rang, he hesitated, but then, dutifully, he answered it.

“I’m looking for a guy named Luc,” a gruff male voice said.

“That’s me.”

“In these photos on your website—you look like a real whore. Pretty hot stuff! Are you that good looking in person, or is this some sort of a bait and switch?”

“Is this some sort of a crank call?” Luc asked.

“I don’t know about that. I do know I’m jacking off right now, looking at those pictures of you. Come on, talk dirty to me, will you?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll hang up now,” Luc said, primly.

“Wait! Don’t hang up.” There was a burst of laughter at the other end of the line. “Luc, don’t you recognize my voice?”

“No. Should I?”

“It’s me, Roland.”

“Roland?”

“You know, Perceur.”

“Perceur!” Luc exclaimed. “Why, you son of a bitch! Leading me on like that. What are you doing—using the computer in the prison library to access internet porn? You can get into trouble doing that.”

“Yeah, but not in the way you mean. I’m out. Got released a few days ago.”

“Really? That’s great. And how’d you track me down? How’d you find my website?”

“Oh, I just asked around. It wasn’t so difficult. When I said I was looking for my old buddy Luc, a guy told me, ‘Hey, there’s a hot looking young stud who goes by that name, who’s started escorting through his own website recently.’ So I checked it out. What are you doing right now, kid? Are you in between tricks?”

“I’m having a coffee, down at the harbor. Can you join me?”

“I sure can. Where are you, exactly?”

Luc gave Perceur the address of the café.

“Stay put. See you soon,” Perceur told him, before he hung up.

While he waited, Luc ordered and drank another coffee. He was pleased that Perceur was out of prison, and he eagerly anticipated seeing him again, talking over old times, and catching up with him. Luc was excited, his pulse slightly elevated, and that couldn’t be attributed entirely to the effects of the caffeine he’d consumed. The thought of being with Perceur again was getting him aroused.

Yes, maybe Perceur was a brute, but as Luc remembered all too well, he was a damn hot, sexy brute!

It wasn’t a long wait. Soon a very well-built man entered the café and approached Luc’s table. It was only when this apparition grinned broadly at him that Luc recognized him.

“Perceur!” he exclaimed.

“None other,” his friend replied.

Luc was stunned by Perceur’s appearance. He wore khaki trousers, a lemon-yellow polo shirt and a matching baseball cap, and sunglasses. He wore espadrilles, without socks, on his feet. He looked like a tourist. The only things lacking were a camera slung around his neck and a guidebook clutched in his hand.

Greeting Luc with a bear hug and a kiss, Perceur removed his cap and sunglasses. The two men sat down, and Luc summoned the waiter, who took Perceur’s order.

“Look at you! I’ve never seen you in civilian clothes,” Luc remarked.

“This is the first time I’m seen you in anything but one of those goddamn prison jumpsuits, too. Of course, back there in the hole, we spent most of our leisure time naked,” Perceur joked.

“You look good.”

“So do you. Okay, now that the pleasantries are over and done with, spill. Tell me about this whoring gig of yours.”

Luc hesitated. “Maybe you’ll think less of me, if I go into some of the sordid details.”

“Ha! That’s a laugh. This is me you’re talking to, baby. I’m hardly in a position to throw stones, am I?”

Luc summarized some of his recent adventures.

“You seem to be doing all right for yourself,” Perceur said.

“And you? How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” Perceur declared. “I have a job, and a place to live, with an old friend of mine. That was all set up ahead of time. They wouldn’t let me out, otherwise.”

“You’re going straight?”

Perceur gave Luc a sidelong glance. “Let’s not get carried away.”

They finished their coffee, and called for the bill. “My treat,” Luc insisted.

“Thanks. What’re you doing, the rest of the afternoon?”

“Nothing,” Luc said. “I promised myself I’d relax and take it easy, for once.”

“Me, too. I’m only working part time, to start. So I’m done for the day.”

“Want to go to my place?”

Perceur grinned. “Love to. But suppose a customer calls you, wanting a last-minute date?”

“Then he can find himself some other hustler, for once.”

Twenty minutes later, the two men were in Luc’s apartment, undressing beside his bed.

“Not a bad place,” Perceur decreed. “Better than my dump.”

“It’s not much, but it does have a bed,” Luc suggested, lewdly. “Let’s make good use of it, shall we?”

Standing there naked, Perceur observed the way the apartment’s large windows let the late afternoon sunlight pour freely into the room.

“Aren’t you even going to have the decency to close the blinds, and the curtains?” Perceur asked.

Luc snickered. “What’s decency got to do with it? I don’t recall you worrying about it too much, when you were screwing me every night, in our cell. Remember those times when a guard would walk by—and he’d just stand there, and watch?”

“Yeah. Horny bastards. They were envious, but none of them had the balls to open the cell door and join in.”

“Let my neighbors look. They may learn something!”

“Even so, Luc—wait.”

They were both nude—and erect, blatantly ready for action. “Wait for what?” Luc asked.

“Things here on the outside don’t have to be the same way they were inside.”

“How so?”

“This isn’t the cell block, you know. I’m not the top dog, and you’re not my bitch.”

“What’re you really trying to say, Perceur?” Luc asked.

“I’m saying I think we ought to mix things up a little. You know, put some variety into it. Why don’t you fuck me?”

Luc was dumbfounded. “Me fuck you?”

“If the idea doesn’t turn you on—”

“I’m just not sure I heard you correctly.”

“I’m telling you that you can shove your dick up my ass, for a change,” Perceur said, impatiently. “There. Did you hear that?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Well, do you want to do it, or don’t you?”

“Oh, I’ll do it, all right. I’m not about to pass up on an opportunity like this!”

“Let’s get on with it, then.”

“Sure. Suck me, first, though,” Luc demanded.

He pushed down roughly on Perceur’s huge shoulders, forcing the big man to kneel on the bed between Luc’s widespread thighs. Luc tugged on Perceur’s disheveled hair.

“Open your mouth,” Luc barked. “Suck my dick!”

“Hey, who’s the violeur here, me or you?” Perceur joked.

“Like you said—let’s try something different. Now, open up!”

When Perceur obeyed, opening his mouth wide, Luc shoved those parted, panting lips down on his cock and he clamped his thighs together around Perceur’s head. He had the big guy trapped!

“Now suck it,” Luc moaned. “You want to blow me, don’t you?”

But of course he gave Perceur no chance to answer. The pierced and tattooed bodybuilder’s mouth was stuffed with Luc’s dick, and Luc intended to keep it that way!

“Eat that meat, bitch,” Luc jeered.

With his hands, Luc pushed the kneeling man’s head violently back and forth on his prickshaft, which started to respond to the wet warmth and pressure of that sucking mouth.

“Blow me, you big, dumb jerk!” Luc dared to say. “Come on, take it down into your throat! Motherfucker! In the slammer, you made enough guys go down on you. Now, let’s see whether you learned anything, from having their mouths on your dick. Let’s see if you know how to suck!”

Luc held Perceur’s mouth down on his dick until it was throbbing like the beat of an overtaxed heart, and it was so stiff that Perceur was really in danger of choking on it. After enjoying what was in fact an extremely hot blow job for some time, Luc decided it would be fun if he pretended to be dissatisfied, and annoyed.

Luc shoved the other guy’s head away. “You’re a lousy goddamn cocksucker! What else are you good for? You still want to get fucked?”

“Yeah,” Perceur mumbled, humbly. “Screw me!”

“Then stay on your knees!” Luc moved on the bed, positioning himself on his own knees behind the other man. “Now, put your head down, and stick your ass up in the air.” Grabbing the lubricant from the nightstand, Luc slicked up his cock. “You’re going to get it, big guy,” he warned. He put his hand on the back of Perceur’s thick neck, and he pushed the muscle man’s face down against the mattress. “Stay put! Don’t move!” Luc warned his brawny ex-con lover. “I’m going to fuck your frigging butch muscle ass!”

Before Perceur could react, Luc was right behind him, driving his stiff cock, coated with the lubricant, right up his muscular ass!

“Aw, shit,” Perceur complained, when he felt the thick, blunt head of the boy’s hard-on pressing between his buttocks and grinding against his sphincter muscle, battering against it, demanding admission. “Christ, no! That hurts! You’re too damn big, boy, too fucking rough—!” As he uttered these complaints, Perceur tried to squirm out from under Luc, and he reached back to grasp the young hustler’s dick and guide it into him more gently.

Luc slapped the man’s hand away.

“Cut that out! You wanted it, so bad. You’re getting it!”

“Please—!” Perceur babbled.

“Shut the fuck up. My God, you sound like a whiny punk getting a convict’s dick up his ass for the first time! Spread your butt cheeks, open wide, and take my cock up your hole,” Luc dictated.

He inserted himself completely, making Perceur tense up and let out a hoarse cry of pain, which Luc ignored, as he proceeded to fuck him mercilessly

Enthralled, Luc was aware only of the tight, clasping pressure of the anus around his dick, and the sensual warmth of that resisting ass, as he drove himself in and out of it, each long, hard thrust more ruthless than the one preceding it.

“Oh, you cocky, arrogant little bitch!” Perceur griped, as he was compelled, whether he liked it or not, to take Luc’s cock up his ass. “If I had you back in my bunk, in our cell—! Then I’d show you, you dirty little punk! I’d teach you who’s boss!”

“That ship has sailed with the afternoon tide, tough guy,” Luc reminded him. “You might as well shut the fuck up, dude, and open up your ass, and get fucked!”

“You little prick—!” Perceur spat.

“Not so little, from the way you’re whining about being screwed by it!”

“You whore boy! You cheap little hustler! You dirty, stinking mouth and cock and ass for hire! You cunt!”

“Don’t think you’re going to get me to slack off and go easy on you, because of that kind of sweet talk, lover boy,” Luc advised Perceur, sarcastically. “Shit! That kind of talk only makes my cock harder. Which is what you want, right?”

Too aroused to respond with words for a moment, Perceur was twisting his body about, and moaning. He was obviously beginning to enjoy himself, despite the callous roughness with which Luc was possessing his ass.

“Aw, shit!” Perceur shouted. “For such a little dude, you sure as hell have a big cock! Come on, voleur,” he taunted Luc. “Man up! Fuck me, thief!”

“Open wide, violeur,” Luc retorted. “Get fucked! Get raped, rapist!”

Luc noticed that the other guy was using one hand to masturbate himself with, while he whorishly shoved his butt backward to meet each of Luc’s thrusts.

“Stop jerking off,” Luc said. “I don’t want you to come until I tell you to.”

To his astonishment, Perceur obeyed. “Yes, sir!”

Luc indulged in a bit of fantasy—that he was one of the prison’s guards, working Perceur over, callously using him for sex. It was quite a stimulating scenario. Inflamed by it, Luc began to screw him even harder, and Perceur’s whimpers of lust changed to more explicit and ardent pleas.

“Oh, God!” the big man screamed. “Take it easy, damn you, kid!”

“Easy? Fuck that shit! You’re getting screwed, big guy—big time!” Luc swore.

Almost sympathetic to Perceur’s plight, Luc hesitated for a second—but the feeling of being jammed deep into that hot, butch ass was too good for him to want to diminish it by being gentle. And he recalled that Perceur had ignored his own agonized pleas for mercy, that first time in their prison cell, when Perceur had raped him. Luc had been forced to take it, and he’d gotten over the experience. Now, perversely, he even looked back on it with gratitude! He was sure the same would be true of Perceur. Turnabout was fair play. It was karma!

Despite Perceur’s sudden ass shyness, Luc lunged forward into his rectum with all of the brute force of a pile driver sinking into a hole in the ground!

“Try that on for size, big man!” Luc yelled, belligerently.

“Ah!” Perceur howled. “Holy Christ! You big-dicked little bastard, what’re you trying to do, kill me with your cock?”

“Aw, don’t be such a wuss,” Luc advised his prison lover. “Quit whining! You know you love it. So take it. Take my cock! Take it, bitch—take it, and love it! Jesus—who’d have thought a big, tough guy like you could be such a pussy?”

Luc was driving himself into the big man’s asshole with a frenzied abandon now, pumping his prick in and out of Perceur’s traumatized butt as though his erection was a sex machine which had gone haywire and which could no longer be stopped until it self-destructed. Luc’s thighs slapped against the backs of Perceur’s huge, hard legs with the resounding crack of a prizefighter’s gloves hitting a punching bag. Again and again, indefatigably it seemed, he drove his cock deep into the larger, more thickly muscled man’s ass, plowing him hard.

“What a freaking turn-on,” Luc exulted. “Screwing a dude who’s bigger and stronger and tougher than me. Making him be my bitch!”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Perceur moaned. “Mother of God! And all the saints! They ought to strike you dead, you whore, for using my ass like this. You slut—!”

“Damn you, I wouldn’t start throwing that word ‘slut’ around, if I were you. Because what are you, other than a dirty cock whore? Who do you think you’re trying to kid? You wanted this, didn’t you?” Luc growled. “Well, now you’ve got it, fucker! How’s it feel? Do you like it? Are you enjoying being the bitch, for once?”

“Yeah! Fuck, yeah!” Perceur gloated. “You really know how to fuck, kid!”

“And for a guy who’s so used to dishing it out, you’re pretty good at taking it, too. You want some more? You want me to fuck you even harder?” Luc taunted his willing victim.

“Yeah, harder—deeper—fuck my hole, boy, tear my ass apart!”

“What’ve you been up to, back there in the slammer, since I got out? Have you been spreading your ass for some of those other dirty cons? For all of your big, ugly, muscle-bound gym buddies, maybe?”

“No, Luc, I swear to God! I’ve been saving my hole for you.”

“Well, it’s not such a bad hole, actually,” Luc conceded, graciously.

“Glad you like it, handsome. Use it!”

“Oh, I am!” Luc said.

He pounded himself at Perceur’s body, deliberately, cold-bloodedly holding back his ejaculation for as long as he could, wanting to make this memorable fuck last for as long as possible. Screwing a man who was bigger, stronger, and tougher than he was, was a novel experience for Luc, and one he intended to make the most of. And Perceur was turning out to be quite a hot piece of ass! No power bottom could have taken Luc’s plowing of his ass with greater glee, or fucked back at him, worked his anal muscles to milk his fucker’s dick, and urged his fucker on, not only with body language, but with obscene grunts and whimpers, more effectively.

“Um, that’s a fine, tight little man pussy you’ve got wrapped around my dick, punk,” Luc taunted the other man. “You’re a sweet little bitch!”

“Who’re you calling a pussy and a bitch, boy?” Perceur grumbled.

“Listen, tough guy—if the cock fits, then shove it up your ass!” Luc joked.

He fell silent, and concentrated on his fucking.

Only when the discomfort of holding back grew stronger than his pleasure, did Luc speed up his thrusts again, getting ready to unload his cum into his fellow ex-con’s battered ass. He pulled out until just the head of his dick was still stuck inside Perceur’s incongruously small, boyish-looking anal pucker. Then Luc rammed all of his rigid manhood back inside the other man’s body, going in even deeper now than he had at first. His second such lunge drove up into Perceur’s anus with even greater force. He repeated the savage abuse of that butch ass, until the big tattooed and pierced muscle man was squealing and shuddering under Luc’s body, responding to the hustler’s unrelenting anal assault like some twink who’d picked up the wrong guy and was being anally abused by him. But, to Luc’s amazement and delight, Perceur’s cries weren’t a protest or a plea for Luc to spare him, to stop—no, they were desperate requests for Luc to fuck him even harder!

“Oh, baby!” Perceur rhapsodized. “What a man you are! What a stud! Oh, drive that big hard dick right into me! Right through me! Give it to me, all of it! Fuck me with it! I want to be your bitch, damn it. Fuck me, oh, sweet Jesus, fuck me!”

“I’ll fuck you, all right, goddamn you!” Luc swore. “Your ass is mine!”

His former cellmate’s display of masochism seemed to ignite an answering sadism inside Luc. His cock dug deeper and more painfully into his fellow ex-convict’s—into his lover’s—ass. The violence of his exertions took Luc’s breath away, and he was afraid he might pass out before he could come in Perceur’s ass. But then he felt the early warning signs of an approaching ejaculation—an additional ache in his swollen balls, a stronger tension in his perineum muscle, and a hot burning and tingling in his urethra.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “At last!”

“Are you going to come?” Perceur asked, excitedly.

“Hell, yes! Get ready for it. I’m going to breed your butt,” Luc vowed.

“Do it! Oh, give me that cum!”

“Aw, shit!” Luc yelled. “You want it? You got it? Here it comes. Take it!” Luc lunged savagely, and sank his erection deep into Perceur’s ass, wringing a groan of desperate pain and pleasure from the man he was fucking. He shot his hot sperm into Perceur, emptying his load into him, holding nothing back.

He was vaguely aware that Perceur was coming, too. The big guy hadn’t so much as touched his cock with his hand, but the steady rubbing of his body against the firm mattress he was lying on, and into which Luc’s thrusts had driven his groin, must have been enough to bring him off—that, along with the violence of the fucking Luc had given him, including a steady battering of his prostate.

“Ooh—I’m jizzing, too, you dirty little fucker!” Perceur informed Luc. “I’m squirting out my load!”

“Shoot it all, you son of a bitch!” Luc demanded. “Blow out that cum!”

Weak and exhausted, both physically and emotionally spent, the two naked lay there in each other’s arms, panting for breath, giving their respiration and their heartbeats a chance to slow back to normal.

Luc pulled out of the other guy’s manhole shortly after he’d stopped coming, and he looked down, dazedly, at his cock. It was still hard, and it was covered with semen. Languidly, he reached for the trick towel which he always kept by his bed, and he used it to wipe himself off. Then he mopped Perceur’s groin as well, wiping the residue of cum from his cockhead.

Beside him, Perceur’s powerfully muscled body, drenched in sweat, was still quivering from head to foot with post-orgasmic tremors.

“Are you all right?” Luc asked him.

“Never better,” Perceur gasped. “Damn! All this time—the whole time I was screwing you, back there in the slammer—I thought you were just another punk. Just another boy whore, for me to fuck! But, no—you’re a real man, my friend. A real stud! You could make any guy happy to be your bitch!”

They rested, together, in each other’s arms.

“Love me?” Perceur asked.

“A little, I guess,” Luc replied.

“Well, shit! Could you be any more ambivalent about it—any more noncommittal?” Perceur exploded.

“Don’t get your balls in an uproar, big guy,” Luc advised him. “I like you just fine. You know I do.”

“Enough to move in with me? We could find our own place, to share. Something better than this place of yours, or my friend’s pad. We could pool our income, our resources, and afford something decent.”

“Yeah,” Luc said. “That sounds good in theory. But what’s going to happen when I need to do an in call? Entertain a john in our happy little home?”

“I’d—make myself scarce, while you were entertaining them. Hey, better yet. Maybe I could start hustling, too.”

“Who’d pay to fuck you?” Luc teased him.

“Well, you just had it, so you tell me. Wasn’t that worth paying for?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“We’re different types,” Perceur pointed out. “So we’d appeal to a different clientele. You, the sweet, wholesome young boy next boy. Me, the hard piece of rough trade.”

“And when you’re not pursuing this new career as Cherbourg’s roughest rough trade escort, what other illegal activities will you be doing, on the side, to bring in extra money?”

“Ones you’d be better off not knowing anything about,” Perceur muttered. “But come on, Luc. Let’s be serious. Why shouldn’t we team up? Live together—we could find some decent place. And work together—run some scams. Why not?”

“I don’t want to end up back in the slammer,” Luc said.

“That won’t happen. Not if we’re smart.”

“You want us to go on being a couple of criminals!” Luc protested.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Luc pondered the matter. Then he said, “I can’t think of a reason.” He kissed Perceur on the mouth.

The End

Also by Henri Couesnon

Available exclusively on Amazon:

After Hours Gym

An Office Bromance

Bad Boy Biker

Bisexual Beach Bum Book 1: Sex by the Sea

Bisexual Beach Bum Book 2: Their Lifeguard Lover

Bisexual Beach Bum Book 3: The Sand Heats Up

Bisexual Beach Bum Book 4: His Birthday Gift

Black Leather Nights

Bondage Cop

Bunkhouse Gangbang

Chained Male

CityBoyz

Cuffed by the Cop

His Secret Sins

I Like It Rough

Lakeside Nights

Let’s Try It Bi

Make Love to Me and My Wife

Marriage Parisian Style

Muscle Heat

Muscle Worship

Night Prowl

Seaport of Dreams

Seducing His Student

Steam Driven

The Biker’s New Boy

The Coach and His Wife

The Elusive Object of My Desire

The Guy Next Door

The Mountaineer

When Gay Husbands Stray