I truly regretted what I had to do after making Steve, the cute but oh so obvious young thing, my love slave. But it was all for a good cause, including Steve’s, if he was able to take hold and prove he had talents for running intelligence assets.
I took him under my wing and into my bed in my London flat, and when I wasn’t trying to teach him how to run assets in his new Cyprus assignment, I was fucking him in my bed until his eyes were swimming in cum. At first I was fully as attentive and romantic and sensitive to his needs and wants as he had been dreaming about. But slowly over the weeks of agent training in London, followed by the indirect travel into Greek Cyprus and two weeks acclimation and training there, I let rougher, more demanding, less sensitive sex creep into our relationship. I changed slowly so that Steve couldn’t put his finger exactly on the point at which I no longer fulfilled his romantic dream but was overpowering him.
I started by ignoring a signal here and there that he wanted sex, and moved on to forcing sex when he wasn’t in the mood or fucking him to sheer exhaustion and then fucking him again when it wasn’t what he would have chosen. And then I slowly became a bit rougher with him, making him gag while blowing me, when I knew he wasn’t thrilled to give blow jobs, and slapping him around a little bit at the height of arousal. And then, ultimately, mostly because it fit my plan, when we were laying low in Barcelona on our final—and we hoped undetected by the opposition—approach to Cyprus, I brought a male prostitute in from off the docks and had him fuck Steve roughly while I watched.
Steve was crying when the bruiser left, and I knelt beside him and placed his hand on my engorged dick and told him that what I had seen aroused me so much that we would do this again. And then I forced my hand between his thighs and spread his legs as he whimpered, and I worked my hardened cock inside his swollen and bruised channel and fucked him myself. Although it had all been part of a pattern I was establishing, watching the rough sex had, indeed, aroused me like none of my previous encounters with Steve had, and for the first time the sex was as good for me as it was for Steve.
Back in Nicosia at the embassy once more, it took me almost a week of showing what Steve had learned of the tradecraft to convince the chief of station to change handlers for the now-troublesome and unstable Tahir, who was our asset in the Turkish Cypriot prime minister’s office.
That done, I went over to the Turkish side of the island in the afternoon and called Tahir, using our old contact system of claiming to be his tailor telling him that a suit was ready for him to pick up and needing to talk to him personally to set up a meeting, as final fitting was required.
Tahir was delighted to hear from me and started to tell me over the phone, from his own office, how unhappy he was that I had just disappeared when we had come together at last and how much he hated his new contact. I had to shush him and make him realize he was talking over an open phone line. But from his reaction, I could tell both that he was genuinely distressed I had left him and that something would have to be done quickly to placate him or he would become completely unhinged and would give us away. I also became certain that he had no idea that I had left Kyrenia with his uncle, the international arms dealer, Fazil Fikret, the last morning we’d been together. I also was still unsure that Tahir even knew what a high intelligence target his uncle was.
“I am so sorry my shop men gave you so much trouble with your suit order, Mr. Hulagu,” I smoothly inserted in his running conversation, trying my best to neutralize what he was saying. “Now about the final fitting. How about 8 PM. And I will bring my assistant with me. Sami—as for your first fitting.”
Anyone listening to our conversation—I hoped—would understand that the fitting would be at 8 PM in my shop, and my assistant, Sami, would be there. But what I was relating to Tahir in code was that we were to meet at 8 PM at the Club Paradisio, where we had first been introduced by the intermediary, Sami. I also was conveying that I would have someone with me, so that Tahir wouldn’t be spooked by finding that out when we met again.
When I rang off, I told Steve that we had a date with the man who would be his first asset to run here in Cyprus, if he proved able to do that. Steve got excited, and we went over Tahir’s file. I impressed on Steve how important Tahir was to us, not the least because of his relationship to Fazil Fikret, who Steve had already met and whose intelligence interest to us was well known to Steve.
“Above all, you have to develop a good relationship with Tahir. Do you understand that?” I asked.
“Yes,” Steve answered.
“Tahir was originally my asset, and we worked together quite well. My replacement hasn’t been a good fit. You must be a good fit, or, frankly, Steve, I don’t think the service will keep you on.”
Steve gaziantep bayan eskort sat there, thinking hard about that. “Do you mean—?” he started to ask.
“I mean sex, Steve. We control this asset with sex. He must be pleased. Do you understand and can you do that—for a chance to become a full-fledged agent?”
“That means that we take two cars across to the Turkish side tonight. If I come back alone, you will be on your way to becoming a full-fledged agent.”
Steve’s eyes grew large. “But we—”
“There is no ‘we,’ Steve, one way or the other. Surely you’ve come to sense that—that what you want isn’t what I can fully give. I have matched you carefully with the need here, Steve. If you prove yourself—if you decide to do what it takes to become a full-fledged agent—you will use whatever talents you have to the best of your ability. And, I’m happy to add, I think you will enjoy yourself in the process. Much more so than with me.”
I left Steve to cogitate on these truths and went to prepare myself and to order up two sedans from the embassy carpool.
I was very happy to see immediately upon entering the smoky and somewhat seedy and practically deserted Club Paradisio at 8 PM that I had guessed correctly. There were no lights on in the club bar, except for a color wheel trained on a clichéd overhead revolving ball inset with small mirror squares. Such activity as there was was off in the booths along the wall, and the air was heavy with Turkish tobacco smoke. The gay scene in Turkish Cyprus was mainly out on the beaches and in the backseats of cars on deserted mountain roads. Only the furtive “not so sure about this” set came to the tawdry clubs in the alleyways of the larger towns.
It was the dark atmosphere in the club that had mainly attracted me to this club when I originally suborned Tahir through an introduction from the male pimp, Sami. It was nearly impossible to see who was doing what with or to anyone.
As soon as we got close enough to the bar where Tahir was waiting, hunched over and nursing an Efes beer as he waited for me to appear, for him to see us, I was pleased to note that his eyes slid right off me and onto the cute young, smallish figure of Steve.
Steve gave him a wondrous smile, pleased himself, as I’d assumed he would be, with the handsome, well-muscled Tahir. And after that Tahir barely heard what I said. He did remember enough, though, to disengage eye contact, as I instructed him to in our training sessions; palm the envelope I was holding between the seat of a bar stool and the underside of the bar; and head for the door.
“Passing,” I had muttered, the signal that I had something in my palm to transfer without anyone else seeing us. “Go there straightaway. We’ll take up where we left off. Be prepared.”
The envelope had contained the address and the key to a carefully acquired holiday villa near the top of the Kyrenia mountain pass on the road from Nicosia to the coastal castle town of Kyrenia. I built in plenty of time between Tahir’s departure from the bar and our own by ordering two more Efes beers and trapping Steve between me and the bar, facing the bar, and making him moan with one hand under his T-shirt on his chest and the other buried under the waistband of his jeans. I rubbed my crotch against the small of his back in rhythm with the very loud and quite outdated music coming from a hidden sound system.
After a nice helping of this and the downing of half of our beer, I picked Steve up and carried him over to a corner booth, stripped his jeans down off his legs, and laid him on his back on the tabletop. Dropping my own trousers, I spread his legs and moved in between them and fucked him slowly and tenderly to the rhythm of the music.
This served two purposes. It was my “no hard feelings” good-bye to Steve, who had done everything I’d asked him to do. But, more important, it fully justified our presence in the club and made anyone there who had seen us enter and brush by Tahir forget completely anything they’d seen except for the hot blond muscle stud fucking the cute little redhead on a tabletop—the evening’s hot entertainment for any of the men who could draw close enough to see us in the murky smoke.
When we reached the holiday villa, the interior lights were set low and the drapes on the sliding glass door were open to the small enclosed patio beyond that was almost entirely taken up by a round pool, with Jacuzzi jets set on low. The lights below the surface of the water were on and reflected back through the water and glass wall to the ceiling of the main room, which was dominated by a double bed, with a couple of tub chairs facing it on either side. The wall across from the foot of the bed was completely covered in mirrors, which also reflected the wave effect of the pool back onto the blank wall behind the bed’s headboard.
Tahir had found the “on” button for soft background music, and he was lying on the bed, waiting for us, naked.
I had my arm around Steve when we entered the villa and saw the preparations Tahir had made, and I was pleased to feel the shudder of pleasure that coursed through Steve’s body.
“I’ve brought a present for you, Tahir,” I said in a low voice. “If he pleases you, he can be your contact from now on. I’m sorry to say, I cannot stay in Cyprus. But I believe you once told me you liked redheads.”
“He’s so small; so young,” Tahir whispered. I could tell he was entranced. He had hardly reacted to my statement that I wasn’t back in his life permanently.
“And such a nice body too,” I said.
While we were talking about him, Steve just stood there, shyly looking down at his feet.
Tahir rose from the bed and moved over to in front of Steve while I moved behind Steve and brought my arms around and pulled his T-shirt over his head. I then quickly shucked my own shirt. I pinched at Steve’s nipples and buried my lips in the hollow of his neck, while Tahir held out a hand and lifted Steve’s chin.
“Ah, blue eyes. Eyes you could swim in,” Tahir murmured.
I lifted my head and looked down Tahir’s torso and saw that he was aroused.
Steve was shyly sighing, swaying slightly in response to my working of his nipples, and acting demure. It was partly his character, which was high on the list of what attracted me to him for this assignment, but I also sensed he thought—correctly—that this was what would turn Tahir on. I was grateful that Steve was so quick on the uptake on that. Tahir had wanted me badly without realizing that we just didn’t match up well. Steve, however, was the perfect match for Tahir—exactly what I perceived Tahir wanted: small, beautiful, young, and effeminate. The need for a romantic relationship written all over him.
“You may touch him, Steve,” I whispered loud enough for both of them to hear me. “You said you loved men with muscle and thick, black body hair.” He hadn’t told me anything of the sort, but he understood immediately, murmured his agreement, and raised both of his small hands and ran his fingers into Tahir’s heavy chest matting.
I lowered my hands and unzipped Steve’s jeans and pushed them to the floor. Then I did the same with my trousers—and the three of us were equally naked.
Tahir ran one of his hands down Steve’s smooth chest and through the thin red curls at his groin, and I felt Steve flinch and heard him moan deeply as Tahir cupped the young man’s cock and balls.
“Sweet, delicate. Like a young boy,” Tahir whispered in a hoarse, obviously pleased voice.
Tahir moved in closer and Steve let his hands roam through the patches of dark, curly Turkish hair on Tahir’s chest and arms and back and thighs. Tahir looked into my eyes with an unmistakable “thank-you” expression, and we leaned our faces in to each other over Steve’s shoulder and kissed.
While this was going on, I was hand pumping my cock, and when Tahir drew away from the kiss, I embraced Steve around his thin waist with one arm and lifted him by one of his thighs with the other hand and set his channel, already gauged to the size of my hard tool and lubricated by my cum from our very recent performance in the Club Paradisio bar, down on my cock.
Steve emitted a small, virginal cry upon impalement that was more chaste than anything he’d moaned in the bar, and Tahir gasped and took a step back and sat down on the edge of the bed and fisted his cock, while I raised Steve up and down on my cock and he put on a show of writhing and groaning as if this was his first time.
Tahir was trembling and almost beside himself in arousal and, when he couldn’t take any more, he went down on his knees in front of Steve and inhaled the little man’s pert cock and balls in one intake.
Steve’s writhing and groaning and whimpering took on a much more genuine tone, and in short order I felt him lurch and jerk and heard him cry out.
“Yes, yes, my little prince,” Tahir murmured. “Give papa all of it. Ahhhhhh.”
When Tahir stood up, all grins and a dribble of white, viscous fluid on his chin, I lifted Steve off my cock and brought his legs up in my arms and held him out to Tahir.
“Would you like to try him out for size?” I asked. “I will sit over here and watch.”
Tahir gave me a beaming smile and carefully took Steve from me and turned and gently sat him down on the edge of the bed. As I backed up and sat in one of the tub chairs, Tahir went down on the carpet on his knees between Steve’s legs and lowered his torso onto Steve’s.
For several moments, all I could see was Tahir’s dark-skinned, hair matted, trim, well-muscled back hunched over the bed and his bulbous butt cheeks rising out of strong thighs and calves on the floor. And I saw two small, alabaster-white legs—Steve’s legs wrapped around Tahir, one with his heel wresting in the small of Tahir’s back right above his crack and the other rubbing at the hairy back of one of Tahir’s thighs. Steve’s arms were also visible coming around Tahir’s back, and one of Steve’s hands was buried in the hair at the nape of Tahir’s neck and the other was running through the hair on Tahir’s back. Both figures were bathed in the reflections of the undulating water in the pool.
Although I liked my fucking rough and fast and hard, the tableau before me was just so artistic—so right and sensuous—that my cock was throbbing in my fist.
Tahir was taking it slow, just as he had done with me without arousing me. But what he was doing was working with Steve. Steve was sighing and moaning even more convincingly that he had done with me when I was in the earliest, high romance, phase of my domination of him. Tahir was making love to Steve tenderly—just as I knew Steve dreamed of being taken. And, as I surmised, Steve’s response to Tahir’s lovemaking heightened Tahir’s arousal too. Steve wanted to be loved and Tahir wanted to love. Romance was important to both of them. That’s why it was working for them and why it didn’t work for me with either of them. I wanted to be dominated and taken swiftly and totally—and I fed on danger. This was exactly why I had gone to such pains to wean Steve away from his crush on me. This was best for all three of us.
I could tell from the sounds they were making that they were lost in a lip lock for some moments. And then Tahir was on the move, slowly moving his lips down Steve’s chest and over his belly and into his groin, where the red curls seemed to fascinate the Turk and to make Steve groan and arch his back in ecstasy.
Then Tahir put one hand under Steve’s small, round balls and lifted his tailbone up. Two fingers of his other hand wrapped themselves around Steve’s cock—still small and boyish in its engorgement. Tahir’s lips and tongue went to Steve’s puckered hole and feasted there while Steve moaned deeply and dug his fists into the sheeting of the bed and bunched of handfuls of silk. The heels of his feet were rubbing up and down in the hair on Tahir’s back.
Steve became vocal, letting Tahir know he was being pleased and then that he was being aroused and then that it was so arousing that he couldn’t endure it and then that he begged Tahir to fuck him and then if Tahir didn’t stop and fuck him, he would come.
And when Tahir sensed Steve indeed was about to come, he brought his lips up and swallowed Steve’s delicate equipment once more, whole, pushing his lips to the root of Steve’s cock and ingesting the small man’s balls inside his cheeks, one to each side and humming. Steve writhed and cried out and grabbed for the hair on Tahir’s head with both of his fisted hands and beat on Tahir’s back with his heels. He arched his back and writhed and cried out to Tahir that he had never, ever been taken like this. And then he just collapsed and lay back exhausted, drained, spent.
Tahir stood then, between Steve’s legs, and slowly inserted the bulb of his cock in Steve’s now-gaping hole and moved his hips around in a circular motion. He smiled when Steve moaned deeply, and then Tahir slow-fucked Steve interminably until he too jerked and cried out his ejaculation. I watched the rhythmic undulation of Tahir’s hard-muscled butt cheeks. Contracting and expanding in a movement that matched, in their contraction, the little cries Steve made at the deep strokes of Tahir’s cock inside him.
By the time their dance of life was completed, I had shot my wad as well.
As Tahir pulled away from Steve, I heard Steve murmur in a small voice, “Please, please, don’t leave me. I’ve never . . .”
But Tahir showed no intention of leaving Steve. He picked Steve up in his arms and moved him to the center of the bed, on his belly, stretched out. And then, still half hard, Tahir climbed over Steve and placed his knees on either side of Steve’s slim hips and then carefully spread Steve’s moist hole with his fingers and pushed his still half-hard cock inside again. Tahir covered Steve’s body with his own, and Steve turned his head and they kissed and whispered endearments to each other.
I had nearly dozed off when I noticed that they no longer were in full repose. Their torsos were and so were their arms, entwined with each other. And their lips were locked together again. But their hips were moving again. At first I thought it was just the dancing of the reflected water on their beautiful bodies, but their hips were moving like waves on the ocean—ever more rapidly. Both of them making the most of Tahir’s now-reawakened cock inside Steve. Tahir’s hard-muscled butt cheeks once more contracting and expanding, contracting and expanding, accompanied by the little cry from Steve at the contraction and his sigh at the expanding.
Although there was no violence, no hurry, no jerky motions involved, I could tell the instant when they had attained a mutual ejaculation, Tahir inside Steve and Steve dragging his pert little cock across the bed sheeting.
My ejaculation came shortly after theirs this time. Sometime during the second fucking I thought of asking Tahir if he wanted me to join them, but they were moving so perfectly together that I hesitated to intrude. And Tahir didn’t act like he knew I was there at all now.