Chapter 3 – Chapter 3

I was surprised when I went to the mail slot of my apartment house on Thursday to find an invitation to a swim party on Saturday afternoon from Hector Lopez. It gave an address on a street of exclusive houses above a beach on the water in the northwestern sector of the key. The invitation was written on stiff vellum in fancy calligraphy. A less fancy note, in a scratchy hand, was enclosed in which Lopez asked me to come to the party to service a client he was trying to strike a deal with. I would be paid $500 for giving the client whatever he wanted. A subscript to that said that Hector would pay more if it wasn't evident that I'd enjoy it so much.

Cheeky devil, I thought, but it made me laugh. It also made me want to go to the swim party.

That explained the invitation. What it didn't explain was how Lopez had gotten my address. I suppose, given my name, which I'd told him—at least the name I was publicly giving down here in Key West, would have allowed him to find me. But I hadn't really been in Key West long enough to establish connections. That he could have found me so quickly spoke to the power of the man here on the key. I put in a call to Sam Winterberry back in Langley.

The house was in one of those rare enclaves on Key West where private residences had beach access to the sea. The house itself was a rambling, two-story stucco and glass modern building with a huge swimming pool and an even more expansive terrace behind it, all sitting on a rock outcropping overlooking a beach. It was an all-male party, which didn't surprise me, but on the surface it appeared to be coed as many of those in attendance were transvestites, some very convincing in their skimpy bikinis.

Lopez took me almost immediately from the front door—with a stop in a guest bathroom, where I stripped down to a blue silky Speedo—to the pool area and, as he took drinks off a tray, he handed one to me and another to a large, bulky man, in the nude, as many of the party guests already were, and introduced the man to me.

"Chaz, this is Daniel Cruz, a business friend of mine I have told you about. And I've told you about Chaz, Dan. I'll have to mingle for a while, but I will speak to you both later. I'll want to know how you are enjoying the party—and each other."

With that, he was off, and I was standing there, talking to a naked Hispanic man who probably was in his mid fifties. He was about a zillion feet tall and broad and thick of body. He'd almost certainly been an athlete at one time but age had been getting to him. He had a beer belly—not a gross one, but a noticeable one—and his pecs were beginning to be better described as breasts. He was covered in black and blue tattoos, most of which seemed to be crudely inked, and none of it telling a greater story. Still, he was a muscular man, with good bicep definition. and he had what was definitely a redeeming feature. He was hung like a bull. His balls hung low, the testicles plump and distinctive in the drooping ball sac, and his thick cock was making an effort to reach for his knees. At least it was until I was brought forward to meet him. The cock was already at half attention now, thickening, lengthening, and rising up the longer we stood there, looking at each other, neither fast on bringing up chit chat.

Daniel Cruz was clearly pleased about being introduced to me.

We both knew what I was there to provide for him. With each passing second of awkward silence, his cock increasingly told the story of where we were headed. I didn't particularly mind. He was a huge bear, but he wasn't exactly gross. And, boy, was he hung. I appreciated a challenge in that department.

I'd only drunk half of the drink Lopez had handed me—I didn't even know what it was—when the man—Dan—was reaching out with a thick-fingered mitt, taking the glass out of my hand, setting it down on a table at my elbow, and saying, "Hector has such a nice swimming pool. I think we should try it out."

"Yes, it is a nice pool," I said. There weren't many in the pool. The party was already well under way. There was loud music and dancing, and I could already see that there was humping going on on the chaise lounges and even down on towels on the beach. Whatever Cruz and I did wouldn't surprise anyone or get much attention.

"I want to take you to the pool," he said, and then, before I could tell him that was just fine with me—that I was on board with the plan—he clarified. "I want to take you in the pool." In case I didn't understand, he reached out and cupped my balls and cock through the thin material of the Speedo. "Nice, very nice," he muttered.

"Yes, let's get into the pool," I said, making my voice sound breathy, like I couldn't wait to be riding that cock of his. And, indeed, I was looking forward to the challenge.

We dove in and swam around in our own patterns for a few minutes. He was a strong swimmer—strong swimming strokes that I assumed he could match with the thrusting power of his cock. He finally surfaced in front of me as I had my feet down in a section of the pool where the water came up to my nipples. His long, strong, beefy arms went around me and he took my mouth in a kiss. He was a good, possessive kisser.

"Take your swim suit off and give it to me," he commanded as we came out of the kiss.

"You want me to take it off?" I asked. "You don't want to take it off me?"

"It is your statement that you will let me fuck you," he said. "You take it off and give it to me and you are confirming I can fuck you."

I think the whole reason I've been invited here is for you to fuck me, I told myself, but It didn't' say that to him. As I pulled the Speedo down and off my legs and handed it to him under the surface of the water, what I said was, "You can have the suit. You can have anything you want from me."

He gave me a grin and then swam over to the side of the pool and deposited the Speedo on the lip of the pool. Turning then, he motioned to me. "Come here. Come to me."

I swam over to him and he wasted no time in taking me. He turned me belly to wall, my elbows on the lip of the pool either side of my Speedo and pulled in close behind me. I could feel the insistence of his hard-on on my thigh and then his fingers at my hole. I cried out in surprise, my cry being covered by the loud music and largely unnoticed by those getting their own desires on, although a few turned their faces to me briefly and smiled in recognition of what I was getting. What I was getting was having my ass channel brutalized by thick, invading fingers, which were working on opening me up and not caring what I thought about it.

Cruz wrapped a beefy arm around my neck, pulling the back of my head into the hollow of his neck, and dug and dug with his fingers, as I writhed under his control and cried out—as much in passion as in pain—at the cruelty of his penetration. I cried out again when the fingers were replaced by the forced entry of the thick cock. He pumped me slowly for a few minutes, gaining a bit more in depth with each push, until I was able to accommodate the size of him and quieted down to deep moans and groans.

Again, only occasionally did eyes focus on us, and the faces showed nothing more than admiration for the facial expressions and moaning that the big bear of a man could pull out of me. Lopez drifted by once, stopped, looked at us and smiled, and then walked on.

When he had completely cowed me, Cruz pulled out of my ass without coming and turned me so that his back was to the wall and I was facing him. "Feet on the wall, grab the lip of the pool with your hands, ass on cock, and fuck yourself," he commanded. I understood what he wanted, and it was quite OK with me. I grabbed the lip of the wall on either side of his shoulders, raised and spread my legs, placed my feet on the wall tiles on either side of his waist, and waited as he moved his cock into position at my hole. Then, at his muttered command, I thrust my pelvis forward, taking him deep inside me in one long slide. He worked my cock with one hand, palming one of my buttocks cheeks with the other, as I rode his cock.

He held there, rock hard, for a good ten minutes, urging me to take him deep and then deeper, while I huffed and puffed to do what he demanded. Eventually, though, he lost the patience of essentially just being a gigantic dildo, grasped my buttocks and started pounding hard, both pulling me to him and thrusting forward with his hips into me. I screamed for a while, with few noticing other than smiling and nodding their heads and agreeing with each other that I was having the hell fucked out of me. At length, I lost my hold on the lip of the pool, arced my back into the water behind me. I floated in semiconscious silence while he continued slamming me on and off his cock to what was an almost simultaneous ejaculation.