Men of Mykonos

Kenton took in his breath when he had descended into the cabin. He found there a black leather sling that Panos no doubt would tell others was a hammock, but that Kenton, seeing the restraints attached to the four chains, knew would have another purpose. There was no explaining away the riding crop and extra-thick dildo that were laying on a nearby tabletop.

He shuddered. He just couldn't do it. This wasn't anything he was looking for. He was out of the cabin, back over the side of the gunwale, and half way back toward land on the dock before Panos had time to notice that he'd bailed out.

He walked the streets of Mykonos, fighting with himself and why he turned away from the adventure, being both drawn to and frightened by Panos. Why couldn't he decide what he wanted? There was no real secret there, though, he knew. He hadn't made a decision of his own—or done anything to take care of himself—for years. Could he just change as quickly as he would need to do for Panos? He sensed that Panos would drain him dry financially, just using him—and roughly so, without real respect or affection for him. How and when would a relationship like that end?

Panos' version of taking care of him seemed so much like Georgiou's was. Just using the aging American as long as he had money for it. When Santos said he would take care of him, Kenton got an entirely different impression. Santos had made no material demands. Indeed he claimed to be richer than Midas, which Kenton doubted, but in making such a claim he was signaling that he wanted nothing from Kenton except sex. And the only demand he'd made was shared proof that the two of them were clean, because Santos wanted to have the ultimate pleasure of raw sex with him. This Dr. Mavrades was supposed to show Santos' documentation to Kenton at the same time as he established that Kenton was disease free.

Santos would be an adventure too, but an entirely different kind of one than Panos would be.

Kenton found that he had been blindly walking the streets and when he stopped and looked up, he saw the sign for Dr. Mavrades' office just up the narrow street. He took that as a direction, as the sign of what he should do.

A female nurse was at the reception desk of the second-floor office, where three men were sitting in the waiting room, and as soon as Kenton announced his name to the receptionist, the nurse intervened.

"Yes, Mr. Kingston, we were told to expect you. Please come directly back with me. I will take the necessary samples and you may come back at 7:00 p.m. to consult with the doctor on the results—if that is convenient with you."

It was real. Kenton had expected it all to be a joke. He wasn't at all sure he would make that appointment, but he was here now so he at least would start the process.

He spent the early evening sitting at the harborside Babylon bar in the Paraportiani Waterfront area, a gay district that had figured high in the suggestion that he spend time on Mykonos, watching the sunset starting over the water, and half flirting with and half deflecting the attentions of fit and beautiful young Greek men interested in hooking up with a rich American, which Kenton registered as with anyone who saw him. At several points he had intended just one more glass of wine and then the climb back up to his villa, but when he finally found himself getting up from the café table, it was close on 7:00 p.m., and his feet took him back to Mavrades' office. The flirting of the young men at the gay bar had put him in the mood to carry through with the last part of the examination.

The office was dimly lit and the receptionist was closing up as he arrived.

"I'm sorry. You're closing?" Kenton asked. "Did I have the time wrong? I thought I was told 7:00."

"No, it's your appointed time, Mr. Kingston. The doctor is coming for you directly. You two will be alone in the office." She gave Kenton a meaningful look, and he blushed, realizing that she knew why this appointment was set for the time the office closed.

And as she departed, Paul Mavrades was walking down the hall toward Kenton. He was wearing a weary, distracted look until he caught sight of Kenton and then he gave the American a smile. Kenton couldn't help smiling back, the thought running through his mind that this might not be so bad. Mavrades was a tall, unusually handsome man with gray hair, mustache, and short beard. His eyes were a piercing blue, and Kenton got the impression that they lit up in unexpected pleasure when they were cast on Kenton for the first time. A little chill when down Kenton's spine.

"Mr. Kingston? Welcome. Just come back to my surgery, and we will take care of this matter as quickly and professionally as possible. It is an unusual requirement, but Santos Cleridhis is an unusual man—and he is used to getting what he wants."

For the first time Kenton contemplated that perhaps Santos was as well-heeled as he had claimed to be.

Ushering Kenton into a spacious office with a desk and a couple of club chairs off to the side and an examining table prominently located in the center of the room, Mavrades bade Kenton sit in one of the club chairs and then went over to the desk.

"The circumstance is unusual. Perhaps a bit of wine and conversation before we begin. Wine?"

"Yes, please." It came out like Kenton had cotton in his mouth, so he cleared his throat and repeated the "Yes, please."

After delivering the wine, Mavrades took three sheets of paper from the desk, returned to the chairs, sat down, and handed the papers to Kenton. Kenton had to set his wine down on a side table and hold the papers in two hands because he was trembling. Mavrades was wearing a long, white surgical coat, which gave the impression that that was all he was wearing. When he sat down, the gown tented out at the groin—alarmingly so. His eyes took on a dreamy look as he looked at Kenton.

"You know you are a bit of a surprise," he said.

"How so?" Kenton asked. Once more having to clear his throat to get the answer out.

"You are a very handsome man. And you seem highly refined in character. Santos doesn't usually pick his partners so carefully. That's probably why he has them checked like this. You don't seem the kind of man to get involved with this."

"I'm surprised as well. I guess I'm footloose and searching. I recently lost a long-time lover to death."

"Ah. An older man?"

"Yes. Considerably older. But the death was an unexpected one. He was in very good condition until the heart attack. He hadn't been diagnosed with heart disease."

"And you were satisfied with him. An older man."

"Yes. I prefer older men." Kenton blushed at that, realizing that the doctor was a good ten years older than he was.

"Because they aren't so demanding?"

Kenton blushed again. "That wasn't an issue. I need frequent attention and James was able to give that—and, being older, he was experienced."

"Ah. And this perhaps is why you have agreed to lay under Santos—you are frustrated by the lack of attention—and you appreciate a man who is experienced? I ask, because Santos is quite direct and can be crude. We are the best of friends, understand, but I believe you must be quite frustrated for servicing to fall under his sway. As I said, I haven't had a man as handsome and refined sent to me for this."

"Yes I suppose that must be so," Kenton said, looking away, unable to maintain eye contact with a piercing gaze that seemed to reach the quick of him. "Tell, me, Doctor," Kenton said, suddenly turning, the question having just popped into his head. "Santos is quite a talker about his prowess. Do you have any idea—?"

"Yes, I am quite sure that Santos can deliver on everything he promises in sexual services," the doctor said, giving Kenton a level stare.

"Uh, thank you," Kenton answered, a chill going down his spine.

"Ah, yes, well. The good news is that you are disease free and so are Santos and I. You have the certificates there in your hand."

"The good news? There is bad news?"

"Possibly. With Santos there is another element that I check out with the men he wishes to cover. Not all men are capable of handling him. Tell me, has he exposed himself to you?"

"Yes," Kenton answered, blushing again.

"In erection?"

"At least partially so."

"Do you have any discernment of the dimensions of his equipment? Can you manage twenty-four centimeters? Santos does not mine at a shallow depth. More than one man has had to come back here for treatment after being penetrated by Santos."

"I believe so," Kenton said, and then, warmed by the wine and aroused now by the doctor, he boldly continued, "My lover was unusually hung. I had come to expect to be filled and stretched. If you must know, I think this is what has drawn me to Santos. It was just playful banter from him until he exposed himself to me. I have grown to expect the size. To need it—to be challenged by more of it."

It hit Kenton at that moment that this was the base reason Panos failed to fully satisfy—it wasn't that he was young, perfunctory, and kinky. He wasn't big enough to challenge Kenton's channel.

Kenton's eyes were drawn to the doctor's groin. The tenting there now was much more pronounced.

"Well, I will check for that," the doctor said. "It is one thing to say what you want and yet another to be able to accommodate someone like Santos without debilitating pain. We will proceed with the necessary examination. I will be clinical and as quick about it as possible. It will involve you taking a rubber member of Santos' dimensions, with most of the examination time being taken by you adjusting to the size of it. Then I must, by Santos' direction, penetrate you myself—without protection. That need not be long, to meet the requirements, or deep. I am not unusually thick, and though I could tax you with the depth I can reach, I can control myself. So, if you'll stand and take off your clothes and go up on that examination table, we will take care of this as quickly as possible. For clinical purposes you will be restrained. I hope that isn't a problem."

"No, I guess not," Kenton said as he stood and started to strip down. He felt a bit woozy as he stood. Obviously he'd drunk too much wine over the afternoon and evening. It was evident now that he'd been working up the courage to carry through with the doctor's examination. Even though his head was hazy at the moment, he was quite clear of the understanding that he was willing to go through this because he craved having his channel filled and stretched again by a cock such as Santos'.

And what about the doctor's cock?

"Will you have any trouble managing what you have to do?" he suddenly asked the doctor, as he briefs were being pushed down his legs.

"Do you think I'll have trouble," Mavrades asked in a hoarse voice as he unbuttoned his medical coat and Kenton gasped at the sight of the miles long—but not thick—cock in full erection and with a gold bead pierced into its head.

"If you are contemplating twenty-four centimeters, you should not be troubled by twenty-one."

Kenton swallowed hard. He didn't have an answer for that. But twenty-one would be more than Georgiou so proudly flaunted.

"The good news there is that, with Santos, as with me, it is mostly in length. If you can handle Santos' length, you should be able to handle two men of his length and his girth at once. Tell, me, Mr. Kingston, have you ever had two men inside you at once."

"Rarely," Kenton answered, not wanting to pursue that further.

"Ah, so. How old are you?" Mavrades asked, seeing Kenton naked. "Your body is magnificent."

"I'm thirty-six."

"You have the body of a much younger man. It's almost a crime for a face that handsome to crown a body that beautiful. I have never before envied my old friend Santos as I do now. Do you do sports?"

"Tennis, some squash, running, and I do lift weights. James wanted me to keep in shape."

"I can only repeat deepest envy of Santos, and I can only ask again if you are willing to risk your body with Santos. I can assure you that if he told you he can—and will—ravage you, he can and will. Be sure to keep my card and to call if you need medical attention afterward. I will be very discreet and will come to you."

* * * *

Kenton was groaning and gasping, strapped to the examination table, his feet in stirrups, his legs spread, his wrists attached to restraints on the side of table. The doctor was standing between his spread and raised legs, crouched over him, his lean chest covered in a down of gray hair mere inches from Kenton's heaving chest. The doctor's eyes were locked on Kenton's for signs of distress, but Kenton could only give him the flare of pleasure, his mouth hanging slack, answering the doctor's questions in breathy staccato replies of how well he was accommodating the Santos-sized dildo the doctor was working inside him.

The dildo was extracted. "You knew what you could take," the doctor whispered. "You opened right up for it. Santos will be deeply pleased."

"As will I," Kenton admitted in a hoarse voice. "It's more than I've taken before. It's what I want."

"You did well. And the examination is nearly over. Just a bit of penetration to validate to Santos that I declare you clean."

"Oh, god, oh, god, the gold bead. It found my prostrate," Kenton cried out. "Oh, no, please don't stop."

"If you wish, I can work that and make you come," Mavrades whispered. "I don't wish to impose, though. I can do it quickly, clinically, without deep penetration."

"Oh, god, yes. Make me come. Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yesss!" Kenton had already been keyed up. It took just a few strokes of the gold bead over his prostate to pull an ejaculation out of him. And when he had done so, to Mavrades' surprise, Kenton raised his face to the doctor's and took his lips into a deepening kiss. Breaking away from that, Kenton cried out, "Give it all to me, Doctor! Go deep! I want to take you too."

"Are you sure? It's not clinical."

"Fuck me! Fuck me hard and deep!"

With a grunt from him and a groan from Kenton, Mavrades dove deep, then pulled back, and then dove deep again.

"Release me!" Kenton cried out, and Mavrades immediately released him from the wrist restraints. Kenton clutched the doctor's shoulder blades, holding Mavrades' chest hard against his and set his pelvis in a counterpistoning to the doctor's strokes that had the doctor wildly fucking him to his ejaculation and a second one by Kenton.

Afterward, as they cooled down, Mavrades said, "will you be my guest for dinner? There's an excellent meze restaurant just down the street, with a good view of the harbor."

"And then will you bring me back here and fuck me again?"

"But of course, if that's what you want. But we can go to my flat. It's just above the office here."

"Is that what you want, though?"

"But of course. Santos won't mind. We share. In fact, I think we . . . you might . . . no, I won't say it."

* * * *

Back arched, taking his weight on his shoulder blades, feet flat on the mattress under his haunches to raise his pelvis just so, Kenton cried out at the depth Mavrades' cock was reaching, as the doctor knelt between the American's legs, hands grabbing Kenton's knees, and grunting at the effort to bury his cock so that curly blond and gray pubic hair wove together.

Kenton had never experienced such a snake-like cock, dragging that gold bead across his undulating channel muscles until Kenton's legs gave out and he went flat on the bed. Wrapping his legs around the small of the doctor's back, he held them loosely there, going with the rhythm of Mavrades' long slides out and in, raw skin sliding across shimmering channel walls, while Mavrades glued his forehead to Kenton's, closely gauging the effect of his all-wall's attention with his beaded cock, his eyes capturing Kenton's. Pulling back to where he dug at Kenton's prostate with the bead. Once twice, while Kenton writhed under him, mouth slack and blowing bubbles until Mavrades captured it in a deep kiss, until Kenton tore his mouth away and howled his ejaculation to the ceiling of Mavrades' bedroom.

It was only much later that night when Kenton was staggering up the hill to his villa that he started to wonder if the disease check was as much a protective requirement of Santos' as it was a means for the two old friends to share their men. Somehow, Kenton didn't care if it was the latter.

* * * *

Kenton slept the sleep of the dead that night. When he woke, he put his robe on and went down to the kitchen to start the coffee. There was no water from the faucet in the kitchen. And none in the bathroom either. Once more he was reminded of how dependent he'd always been on someone else.

He went out on the terrace to look down at the pool to see if Panos was there to report the lack of water too.

"Kalimera," came the chipper voice from across the fence between his villa and Santos'. "I would expect you to have coffee in your hand."

"So would I," Kenton asked.

"I happened to have a fresh pot here and an extra mug. Would you like a cup?"

"I'm dying for a cup of coffee. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for coffee at this moment," Kenton answered.

"Not anything?" Santos asked, a mischievous look on his face. "No matter, though. Did you enjoy Paul yesterday? Have you ever been fucked by a hung man with a bead in his cock before?"

"Yes and no. I have the documentation in my house on the tests."

"No need. Paul called me this morning. He enjoyed you immensely. You stayed with him for some time. He claims three ejaculations."

As you perhaps planned? Kenton thought, but he didn't say that. He moved on. "I came out to see if Panos was here. I have no water today."

"You do need a man to take care of you, don't you?"

"Yes, I surely do," Kenton said, with a sigh.

"If I come over and get your water fixed, will you let me be a man for you today."

"Yes," Kenton said, in surrender. They had reached that point. "If you come over here and fix my water you can do whatever you wish with me."

After Santos went under the kitchen sink and turned the water valve back on that he had come in earlier in the morning and turned off, he stood up, and swiveled to Kenton, who had been standing close behind him. His hands went to the sash around Kenton's waist, which, when dealt with, caused the robe to flare open. Santos' hands moved inside, and Kenton sighed and moan as Santos expertly worked his torso, cock, and balls with his hands, while their lips met and Santos backed Kenton into the dining room.

Kenton's butt met the edge of the dining room table and he just laid back on that; spread his legs, hooking his ankles on Santos' shoulders; and groaned as Santos spent considerable time getting his long cock inside Kenton's passage.

"Oh, God, oh shit. You're enormous, a snake," Kenton whined.

"It's what you want," Santos said, simply.

"Yes, it's what I want," Kenton admitted. "Oh, shit. Oh fuck. Drill me deep. Yes. Yes! YES!"

There was some time of no talking as both men worked to get the maximum pleasure from the huge cock barebacking Kenton on the dining room table. Kenton grunted with the progress of each inch, each time assuming—wrongly—that it was the last inch Santos had to give. As Santos sank deeper into him, he instinctively gaped his mouth wide, expected the bulb of the cock to pop out there at any second. They managed to come almost together—or, rather, Santos, in his expertise managed to bring them off almost simultaneously.

"Best lay I've had for as long as I can remember," Santos murmured after they'd come and he was laying his chest on top of Kenton's. "You do like them big. You opened right to me. There is room for . . . well . . ."

"Take me upstairs. Fuck me into tomorrow," Kenton murmured.

"Better yet, I'll take you over to my villa," Santos answered. "And perhaps later you can pack and move in with me over that. You need a man to take care of you obviously, and you bring out the youth in me in the fucking."