Lincoln's Pride

-+-{Lincoln's Pride}-+-

.-'[Part 9]'-.

"All right then, Link?" Bren asked as he came to sit by me on the ledge of the hot tub against the wall with a towel of his own. The cool tile felt nice against my warm skin. I looked up and saw Kamal and Samir had left us. Bren smiled at me hopefully.

"Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn't mean to do that," I said.

"No worries, Link. Kamal said you had questions for me. Fire away," Bren raised an eyebrow towards me with a shameless grin as he settled in next to me and laid back.

"How'd you get here? I mean, no offense, but you don't seem like... I mean I'm not either, but... " I started and fumbled for words.

"Like the type of bloke who submits to a middle-aged Arabian?" Bren laughed.

"Well... yeah. I mean I'm not even sure how I got into all this, much less you.... You seem so... ," I started babbling on. It reminded me of the first few days in Samir's office when he always accused me of "blubbering" when I used a lot of words that didn't get to any sort of point.

Bren raised a hand to signal I should chill.

"Well it wasn't something I sought," he started, "It was... 5 years ago? Yeah 5, wow. I... I was a second year at the Uni back in Melbourne. They don't let you major in football so I'd settled on sports therapy. My father, brothers, uncles, all played football.

One of my brothers plays for a club in Argentina now. It's in me blood for sure. I took to training for side money, one of the poshie gyms with blokes more there to look good than do anything.

I'd get orders sometimes for the fancy hotels near the water, mostly old gays who just liked to watch me workout in their rooms or the gyms in the private suites. I wasn't into it back then but the money was a spot better than what I'd get with regular clients. So I'd go in a pair of shorts, stretch, lift, jog, whatever they wanted and leave with a good chunk of change down my shorts.

I didn't do none of the gay stuff, mind ya. I didn't even show me snag most times, didn't have to. If they wanted, I'd show them what to do for serious workout, but most just wanted a wank while they watched.

One night I got booked by Mr. Kamal here. He had the top floor suite. I'd never been up there! The views! The suite was huge with terraces all around like this one. He had a private gym setup with the latest in everything. He wasn't gay, not like the usual. I could tell from the start he wanted a serious workout. His eyes didn't wander from my own unless he was studying my form.

He listened to me and let me show him what I know, though he already seemed to know most of what I could teach him. I felt comfortable with him and actually embarrassed about taking clients who just want to watch my body. Training with someone who wanted to learn was what I really love doing.

We did a hard workout, challenged each other. He kept up with me well enough and then we settled in with detox juice and watched a match. We yabbered on all night about rugby, he knows loads of players! He's been to matches all over the world. He gave a nice tip when I left and I found a few hundred more in my back pocket when I got home.

Next night he calls direct to my mobile. I begged off two clients to make it back up to him. I needed the money, but it was more than that. I told him he'd already paid me enough for a week's worth, but he insisted on giving me the same amount again. I didn't understand it myself, the way I felt with him. Just knew I wanted to do that again.

He was ready to go and remembered the things I showed him. We went through the routine again only this time he more than kept up and wanted to do more. He's surprisingly strong for a man his age. He takes good care of his body... and mine as well.

We spent the next week working out every night and then talking and chilling until late into the night. He knows so much about the world and has seen everything. He had connections and even talked about getting me internships with some European clubs. It was the first client I'd found who was interested in my future instead of my body. Conversations with him came so easily and I never left with fewer than 3 hundreds in my pocket.

One night he invited me out for dinner. We took a jet, a fucking jet, Link! We met up with Lito Carranza, a huge player for the club in Sydney. We had a private room up above the restaurant and his people were there. He treated Kamal like he was his mentor or something. I was blissed out of my head excited! I don't think I stopped smiling the whole night and Kamal talked to him about me and my goals.

Lito said he would get me in with his friends in Melbourne for some interning. It was huge! I talked the whole flight home about it and Kamal acted like it was just a regular night with friends. He laughed at how excited I was. He said it was interesting to watch a night through my eyes with everything so new and exciting.

Then Sunday came and I was halfway over there and pumped for our regular appointment when he phoned me to cancel. He had business in Paris and had to leave straight on. He said he would be back the next week and to keep the lift pass up to the top floor since he always booked that suite.

And there I was in my home city that seemed suddenly foreign without him. I didn't understand why it upset me so much. I phoned a girl I had been shagging and I went over to hang out. I had skipped on her the whole week and she was pissed at first but c'mon, no one can resist me for too long.

But it all felt weird. I didn't understand it really at the time, but he was in my head and it fucked everything up. She had good hash and smoked me out, but I started hearing Mr. Kamal in my head talking about how bad that stuff is for you when you're on a good plan. We had a goal with our workouts and we made a diet plan with no alcohol or anything, total straight edge.

We started making out, and I was really getting into it... at first. But again he popped in my head. He was looking at me with amusement like, 'This is what you really want?' I could smell the difference too. His sweat, the cologne he wore, it made her smell all wrong. It was like something inside me had turned. I wasn't this guy anymore.

It got worse when she wanted me to fuck her. I was getting pissed. I knew Kamal had done something to me. She kept trying with me and I kept switching my focus between what she was doing and him in my head. I was watching him stretch, lift, felt his hand on my shoulder. I didn't get it, but it got me so hard. She thought she'd succeeded and then I fucked her. It was quick, it was awkward. She seemed ok with it.

I didn't hear from him for a few days and my life started to go back to routine. I thought it was done with, and I didn't take any of the gay clients for fear he'd sneak back in my head. I cleared my brain of him. I was even getting along better with the girl. We'd been friends since childhood. Things went back to normal.

And then a week later out of nowhere, he just texted and said he had been back in town and needed a good workout night. I was so torn. I had finally started getting back to normal and he just popped up again. It fucked with my head so bad I went out with mates to the pub and got shitfaced.

It didn't work though, it just made his memory flood back into me. I kept checking my phone and I must have started to answer his text a thousand times.

I fought with it and drank and fought more. And then I went black, found myself in the lift at his hotel. I'd never taken the key out of my wallet from the last time I was up there. It was the private lift that only goes to the top floor suite, his suite. I stood there for the longest time debating. Did I go up and give in or go back home and sleep it off and force my way back to normal.

The elevator made the decision for me. The doors closed and I started going up. I started to push the down button in panic, but it was already too late. Kamal's face appeared on the screen over the up button.

'It's late, Bren,' he looked sleepy but flashed that barely-there grin that left me unsure if he was amused or annoyed.

'Aye, yeah nah I lost track of time. I can go for home if ye want,' I told him and peered around to see if there was a camera and he could see me too.

He just laughed at me and observed, 'You're drunk, come on up.'

'Yeah nah, just well sure if... if you have the time,' I fumbled with my words and then the screen went blank and the elevator stopped. I pushed back my hair and wiped at my face, needing to wake up a little. The elevator opened to a small lobby across from the one door, his door. It was cracked open for me and I pushed at it with a light knock.

He was there on the couch wearing just a thin, white robe and a drink of his own, whiskey or bourbon or something that colour. Kamal closed his laptop and took off his reading glasses and folded them on the table. He looked over at me with that same unreadable smile again.

'Come, boy,' he said and beckoned me toward the couch. He laid back and stretched a little causing the robe to open and show some of his dark, hairy chest. He's never been overly muscled, but he's broad and built.

'What did you come for, Bren?' he looked at me with amusement like a puzzle he'd already solved.

'Dunno, mate... uh, sir,' I really didn't. 'Got your text and... and... I needed...'

Kamal took a swig of his drink and laughed. He laughed and in my drunken haze I did too.

'What did you need, Bren?' He put an arm behind me on the couch.

'Honestly... I don't understand it...I... don't get it,' I looked down and then felt his other hand cup my cheek. He rubbed it gently but his warm, rough hand sent a chill through me.

'You needed this,' he said assuringly. He turned my face to his and then took his hand away to slowly open his robe. He put a finger to my lips and turned my face down to his body.

I watched as the robe slid open slowly to reveal a toned, hairy chest. It started like a forest between his pecs and then mirrored out over his pecs and trailed down his abs. I knew he was toned from the fitted shirts he wore when we worked out, but the splay of trimmed, black hair added to his definition.

The white fabric slid away against his almond skin to reveal a full bush of black pubes punctuated by a thick brown shaft that laid against his right thigh. As the robe slid open, the shaft just kept going and going as my eyes widened.

It was honestly the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It just laid there between his thighs like a fat brown arm with a big head at the end. I'd seen loads of cock around the locker rooms, but never one that big. I stared at it, gobsmacked and hungry. A primal need activated in my brain like it had been there all along. I needed it.

'This is what you came for,' he said and shook it. 'This is what you needed,' he flopped it across his thigh with a loud thud as I nodded in hypnotic affirmation.

I'd never sucked a cock or even wanted to before in my life, but I instinctively dropped to the floor and crawled between his legs. It felt right, like this is what had been missing. He was in control and he knew it. He looked down and saw my desperation for it. He knew he had me hooked from that moment on.

He pulled it up and away from me as I stuck out my tongue hopefully.

'You ready to taste a real man?' he asked with a serious look like he was about to knight me or something.

'Yes sir,' I said and heard this little whimper escape my throat. He gripped it and I watched it grow and thicken even more. He wagged it in front of my face and I felt a little dizzy as my eyes followed it. It was dark and cut but a work of art. I licked my lips and looked up at him hungrily. He was staring down at me and his face softened into amusement again.

'You white boys are all the same,' he shook his head with an incredulous laugh. 'Tough as can be until you meet a real man. Then you turn to whimpering little boys.'

'Yes sir, please sir,' I whined like a bitch. He laughed at that and smacked the fat tip of it against my forehead.

'You're drunk, Bren. You can't handle this tonight,' he got serious again and there was a growl to his voice. 'You're a drunk little soft cock, aren't you?'

'No sir, I've never... I have a girlfriend,' I protested, wrestling with my pride.

'And yet you came here to beg for a man's cock,' he observed and wagged the beast in front of me.

'Aye,' I whispered and nodded sadly. I let my eyes fall down to his nuts, full and resting against the couch. My nose was an inch away and I inhaled his musk, sweat, power.

'It's ok boy, nothing to feel shame about. Better men than you have knelt for me,' I felt his hand on my head, his fingers lacing around my hair. He pulled at it and brought my eyes to his.

'Then let's do what you came for; what you were made for,' he said as though he were doing me a favor... he was. He lifted me up by the hair until my lips were at the head of his cock. He pushed me down on it and I spread my lips and sucked in the head as it stuffed my mouth.

'That's it, boy. Do what you were born for, worship that cock. That's a good boy,' he hissed as he pushed me down and the thick snake started to choke me. I whined with my mouth stuffed and tried to squirm away but he pet my hair soothingly and praised my efforts.

'Fuck, boy. You want daddy's meat. Your little pink lips tremble for it. You will work for your reward,' he whispered down to me as he pushed into me deeper. I felt his other hand wrap around my neck and massage my throat. He knew where to put pressure and I felt my jaw relax as his cock worked towards my throat.

It slid in easier then and for some reason having my hair pulled and my throat massaged had me raging hard under his control. Until he got too far. I started choking up bad, gagging, spilling spit down his cock and all over the couch. I started tearing up and struggling, but he kept me firmly there. He stopped pressing into me then and just held it there and pressed on my neck until it started to feel ok.

He was leaned down then and whispered encouragement to me, 'You can do it, Bren. You can learn this. Your body isn't used to an Arab but it will warm to it until nothing else satisfies your needy little throat. Keep trying, baby. You got this,' he told me. He let go of my hair then and rubbed my back, calming me down between his strong, hairy thighs.

He kept at it like that, alternating between rough and sweet, coach and master, papa and lover. I got his cock halfway in me then and he started to slide it in and out just an inch or so. I'd never felt such a desire to please someone else. I wasn't even aware of what my own cock was doing, rock hard but unimpressive down in my shorts.

When he started to force me up and down on him I suddenly felt my body tense up and convulse. It was like a wet dream where it just happens. And he knew. He knew what was happening to me. He leaned down again and bit down on my ear which released this flood of emotions through me as my body shook and I moaned helplessly with his cock stuffed down my throat.

'Yes baby, your body is awakening to its new master, to what it was made for. You are a natural,' he praised me and rubbed my neck again as he chewed and kissed my ear and I filled my briefs with cum. I didn't even touch it! I didn't have to. It was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever done. He used my hazy state to ram deeper into me, putting his tip in my throat as tears, spit, and snot rolled down my face.

He pulled my head back to meet his eyes and he wiped at my face and smiled encouragement. I hadn't even realized his hand was out of my hair and I was now bobbing on his cock on my own. My body needed his pleasure and it powered me on. He held my face so my eyes were locked on his.

'Look at me,' he growled, 'keep your eyes on your master.' He over-enunciated each word as he had a slightly pained look in his eyes, that look that says his cock is ready to go at any minute.

Then I had a thought of when I was getting head from a girl and how good it felt when she pulled and massaged my balls. Mine aren't nearly his size, but I have bigger hands than a girl and I reached up under him and pulled at them and squeezed them gently in my hand. That brought a few flutters of his eyelids and a wide smile across his face.

'Yes boy,' he moaned in contorted expressions of pleasure, 'You're a natural. I am proud of you, little soft cock.'

That brought a frown to me, or it would have if his cock hadn't been stretching my mouth to capacity. I hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.

He grabbed my hair again then and started sliding in and out faster. I was getting used to his size though I wasn't sure my mouth would ever go back to normal. He started ramming me then and I realized my hard cock hadn't ever gone soft.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck. I come,' he pushed me down hard and his breathing stopped. I felt his sack tighten up in my hand as his body pulled it in to unload it. 'So, Fucking, Good,' he started filling me with his cum and then pulled me off with a hard yank on my hair. My own cock started shooting off in my briefs again.

Then I saw his dark, pulsing cock snake out of me in an endless slide. Fuck, I couldn't believe I ate all that. It was pulsing and glistening with my spit as he slid it out of me and shot down my throat. He pulled it all the way out as I fell back against the coffee table shaking and cumming. My body curled up uncontrolled and my shorts were splattered with my cum and spit and now his eruption. He shot all over my face and chest.

He gripped it hard and did this repeated motion where he pulled on it twice and then squeezed it and shot out another hot round of his seed. It hit me like paintball fire, hard and fast. He shot on my shirt, my shorts, my hair, all while telling me what a hot little fuck I was.

He finished and collapsed back against the couch while I stayed there on the floor, instinctively knowing to wait for his instructions. I laid back against the rug, covered in his seed and happily regaining my breath. My jaw was sore and my head hurt on top. I still felt his warm fingers around my throat. I must have looked a mess, but fuck it all if I cared even a bit.

I closed my eyes for a minute and felt this odd sense of achievement like I was waiting for a medal or something. I'd made him cum, I'd got what I came for.

'Come, little soft cock,' Kamal said and woke me up from my recovery.

I sat up and he was patting his chest. I got to my feet and came towards him and he pulled me down beside him and pushed me into his side so my face was against his chest. He rubbed a hand down my back and squeezed my ass firmly. His other hand found my hair again only this time he pet me with approval.

'You are a very good boy, Bren. I shouldn't have taken advantage of your drunken state.' he said softly in that deep lulling rhythm that had me blinking sleepily against his hairy pecs.

'No sir, you were right. I came here because I wanted... well I didn't know what I wanted, but that was better than anything I could have thought of,' I said with a grateful yawn.

'Let's get you cleaned up. I'll call for a car to take you home,' Kamal said and pushed me away gently.

'Home,' I said suddenly to myself in disappointment knowing he didn't want me here anymore.

'Shower first,' Kamal said and pushed me towards his bedroom as he followed me with that massive cock still hard and bouncing.

'Do I have to go?' I asked as he was sliding off my soaked, sticky shirt after turning on the oversized shower with three spraying heads. He paused a minute and looked me in the eyes as he pushed my shorts and briefs to the ground.