To Lust and To Love

Babes

I met Damon for the first time on his 24th birthday party at Midtown Ramada Hotel. I was overwhelmed by his handsomeness and the haunting intense look of his brown eyes.

He bore the good looks of a fictional character in a supernatural drama television series towering in his 6 feet height with an exciting sculpted physique. He moved smoothly oozing with sex in capital S. Noticeably he was not with any particular lady date.

I was with Cindy, his dad’s personal aide and secretary. She noticed me when I sighed awestruck ogling him wherever he moved in the crowd of well-wishers. She whispered, “Hmm. There you go again with your crazy crush on somebody just good looking. But, you can’t have him, bro. He is our boss’ son with his Italian model who left him when still an infant. She never came back and boss Ram had been over protective on him since childhood. There was a tittle-tattle that at his age he was still a bona fide virgin bachelor.”

I shrugged. “Gosh. I was intrigued, mamma but I believe you he’s still available. Don’t you notice no lucky girl had ensnared him yet? Mamma, I wanted to fantasize having him just for myself. He looked lusciously good my panty’s soaked right now. I can lick him from top to toe and make love to him sans or with his dad’s cordon sanitaire.”

Cindy nudged at me and laughed aloud attracting the attention of those near us.

Damon with his forehead creased looked at us. Even at that expression he still looked sexy to me.

Since that party I fell in love with Damon more than I have felt with other guys I’ve loved before. He became my love and obsession; my sex object who drove me into maddening lust. I tried to imagine how he would look naked, and touched, kissed and sucked him in all the exciting positions I knew.

But he was the boss’ son and I am aware I can’t just simply cross that line separating us.

There were several times I met him at Ram’s office but either he only acknowledge me with a nod or I didn’t simply exist in his line of sight.

But everything changed at his dad’s sudden death.

Today, as I saw him with his sister at the Ascension Columbary Chapel sitting in front of the urn that contains his father’s remain, I felt grief as he would feel it. It was shown in his unseeing sight and handsome face; in his slumped proud shoulders and clenched palms.

I wanted to bring him close to me and comfort him, but I knew I don’t have the right to do that.

Soon, Ram’s ash was put to rest in his vault at the Ascension Columbary . As he had wished, only his son Damon and his daughter Bess were allowed to witness his interment.

I and Cindy with his friends who condoled with them were left at the memorial chapel. We waited for Damon and Bess for we were invited to hear their dad’s last will and testament at their ancestral home in Santa Rosa.

Ram’s counsel has read “For my daughter, Elizabeth Rodriguez, I am leaving my ancestral house with its title and all contents herein, my coconut plantation and farm complete with titles and pertinent legal papers plus a million pesos from my bank deposits. For my son Damon Rodriguez, I bequeath my fashion business and my House of Fashion, my pent house above my office and my condominium in Ermita. For my loyal secretary, Cindy Rivera and my personal assistant Christopher Santos, I leave for each, half a million pesos. Said amount will be received only after a year of employment with my son Damon Rodriguez provided they will not leave my son’s employ within that one year period.”

“Is that all that I’ll inherit from that damn testament Attorney?” we were surprised at Damon’s sudden outburst. His loud voice rang to all corners of the library.

“Yes, Damon,” Ram’s attorney answered mildly.

“Dammit and how the hell will I ran that fucking house when I can’t even distinguish types of fabrics much less wrap a woman’s body with it? I don’t even know the basics of marketing. To hell with that! I can’t take it. Can’t I and Bess just swap inheritance?”

“No. There’s no way now that we can change your dad’s will, Damon. He had already changed this twice for whatever reasons he saw wrong with the original. Anyway, be informed that this fucking house was earning the money which provided for the luxury of your life. Ram must have considered your artistic talent as a painter that’s why he bequeathed the House to you and not to your sister Elizabeth. You, more than anybody else, can keep the legacy of your father afloat. Think about it, ok? Now, if you do not have any more questions, I’d like to return back to Manila. I have another appointment with a client.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cindy and I were earnestly conferring about our forth coming fashion show in Ram’s office when Damon entered without knocking. He slammed the door behind him and walked straight to his late dad’s table. He looked grim and sullen, his unkempt stubbles lending more sensuousness to his handsome face.

I was taken aback when he looked Escort bayan at us. There was dissatisfaction in those piercing eyes. He looked directly at Cindy. “Please call up the staffs Cindy. I wanted to meet all of them after an hour.”

As if he had noticed me for the first time he curtly addressed me. “And you, you’re dad’s chief designer weren’t you?” Without waiting for my affirmation he said, “Stay behind and give me a brief orientation on that scheduled show you and Cindy were discussing when I came in. And from now on, no more discussion of this house itineraries in this office behind my back, is that clear? ” With grim face, he left me and proceeded to the adjoining conference room.

I turned scarlet with his direct reprimand.

“I’ll be with you in a jiffy, boss. I’ll just get my sketches from my office,” I’ve stammered.

When I returned, he looked directly at me with his discerning eyes banked with lush black eyelashes. Even when I was presenting to him the scheduled itinerary of the house and the designs of the clothes for the summer line using power points, he never said a word. He looked at the slides from time to time and continued looking at me with a lifeless disinterest bordering on boredom. Touching on the marketing of Ram’s creation was not my department but I tried to explain it in the best way I could. His looks became more bored and he stood up and walked to the wide window overlooking Ayala Avenue.

Then he asked without looking back at me, “You’re beautiful, you know? I’d like to put you in canvass, would you pose for me?”

I was momentarily aghast. His sudden proposition was out of context to what he previously wanted to know which I was explaining to him.

But I was complimented by the descriptive word beautiful he used for me. I’m gay but not outwardly effeminate. I was not offended. Though caught unguarded, I answered almost inaudibly, “I’d love that.” It was the most that I can say notwithstanding my excitement about his offer.

But after a while, he looked at me and nodded. “I’ll see you after the meeting and let’s talk about my offer.”

When all the staffs consisting mostly of beautiful women and a sprinkling of gays like me filed in, he began the meeting right away. As he spoke, he looked intensely at each one of the staff making them feel as if he was talking to him or her alone. Some of the girls squirmed at his bewitching gaze.

When he looked at me as if talking to me alone, my heart leapt, I was overwhelmed. “I must be honest with you, I do not know anything about dressing up a woman much less their preferences. Perhaps I am expert on undressing them.” Snickers met his words but when he raised his hand everyone became silent. “And for this, I want you to give your best and help me. This fashion business is our means of survival. If it sank, all of us will go hungry and sink with it.”

I unconsciously nodded an affirmation.

“I am not closing this meeting yet. Chris Santos has already introduced our marketing agenda to me, I’ll let Cynthia schedule another meeting with me and Liza Armeni,” he looked at our petite, energetic marketing director who smiled and nodded. “Unfortunately, this is one territory of my father’s business which I am not acquainted. So, you’ll have a lot to discuss with me, Liza. Meanwhile, meeting is adjourned.”

After the meeting we were about to return to our own work, when he addressed Cindy. “I’d like to unwind, Cindy. And you know, painting will relieve me of all these past stresses. With dad’s demise and this new business which you knew I am totally unfamiliar; it might take days, but definitely, I’m here to take the helm of this house. You have my phone number, just call up when anything of importance that needed my presence arises.” He looked at me as I gather my sketches and said. “Let’s review those sketches at my pad.”

The shock of his voice rang on my ears. It kept ringing as I looked at him my mouth slightly opened for I can’t believe what I’ve heard. But as usual, he left without any more words. And when I looked at Cindy, she just nodded.

Damon was already on the driver’s seat of his black Ferrari when I came down. “You can follow in your car if you wish but, I’d prefer that you ride with me,” the door of his car beside him was already opened.

It was a chance to be near him that I would not lose. And I chose to ride with him. As soon as I got in his car, he drove out of the house’ parking lot. He merged with the heavy traffic on Ayala Avenue heading west. I threw a side glance at him and saw frustrations on his face. He clenched at the steering wheel tightly as his car moved with the slow flowing traffic. Sometimes we stalled for seconds as the traffic stood still. “Damned this fucking traffic,” he hissed.

It took us almost three hours before reaching his condo and it was nearing noon time. He occupies the penthouse on the 20th floor overlooking the beautiful Manila Bay. Noticeably at one side was Bayan escort his studio where portraits of nude women were at the wall. The glass panelling guarded with intricate steel grills was slightly ajar, sending in the slight breeze coming from the sea. The whole place was done in modern taste with an elevated bed that could be enclosed with a box pleated curtains. There was a bar at one side half-filled with spirits mostly gins. The place was in complete disarray, his personal things strewn all around.

He looked haggard as he went directly to the bar and poured himself a drink and gulped it at a toss. He put down his wine glass at the counter and removed his shirt and pants. I was agog to see his complete nudity for he was not wearing an underwear.

He was standing on his side and his limp cut cock was in my full view. Being gay it was my first point of interest. And I knew, fully erect it will be thick and around 10 inches long. My breath constricted as I drank on his naked body I have fantasized for long; at last, a reality for my eyes to feast. I sighed deeply to loosened the primal sexual lust building inside me pushing my crotch to react in reflex .

I may have stared too long which he noticed. “Haven’t you seen a naked guy before?”

I turned crimson and I immediately averted my gaze to the cluttered living room. “Get use to my nudity because I am comfortable being naked in my own place.” He threw his clothes on a side table and refilled his glass. He took a half-filled Gilbey’s gin with him and sat in a love seat near me. His movement was fluid, his firm tanned body rippled as he moved. There was a lush mat of black hairs on his chest sprinkling densely at his abdomen, growing thick and unkempt from his girth to his crotch. My lust swelled when I turn my eyes to his limp cock. When I looked at his face, he was also looking at me, but didn’t say any more about my staring at him.

I shrugged inwardly. I believe that artist or anyone can have their own idiosyncracy and fetishes. His being nude should have been his as he claimed it was. My reactions and hard-on was only natural.

“Go get yourself something to drink,” he said waving his bottle toward the bar.

I was tempted to do his bidding but I declined. “No, thank you. If you are ready, I can pose for you anytime now.”

He stared at me as if I’ve said something stupid. “Don’t tell me what to do ok?” he blurted angrily. “I do my thing in my own sweet time.” He again stood and went to his bed. He did not close the box curtain.

I was startled when I heard him bode me. “Hey, come here.”

He was already gurgling his drinks. It was almost empty when he put it down. But he just took his time and drank again from the bottle till it was empty. He reclined on his head board and closed his eyes. I just stood at the foot of his bed transfixed, unable to move and just watched him. Damon must be drowning some feelings inside him by the way he drank.

Then he was still for an endless moment.

I stood paralyzed but stealthily approached him when I heard him moan. He was perspiring and suddenly he vomited throwing on his hairy chest, stomach, dick and legs. I hurried to his comfort room for water, soap and towel.

I cleaned his vomit and as I rubbed his chest, he moaned again and uttered undistinguishable words. My hand trembled while cleaning the mop of hairs in his body. I swallowed drily and my trembling ran through my body. It took all my concentration not to have a raging turn on when I held his limp dick and cleaned it with his balls. Its glans was beautiful and bell shaped; his ball sack firm and sprinkled with rough hair.

The smell of gin and his vomit was overpowering but I persevered. I felt, I enjoyed washing him.

I cleaned his taint and hairy thighs with lingering stroke looking more at his limpid cock and firm balls. These still glistens with wetness and I dried them with another towel.

He must had passed since he did not moved when I washed, cleaned and dried him. After I finished cleaning and drying him, I gazed and drank at his nakedness as I dragged my breath and my cock twitched in excessive desire to touch and possess him.

He was now laying spread eagle on his bed. His face has turned peaceful, his eyes were firmly closed etched with thick black eye lashes. His aquiline nose was perfect, flaring as he breath. His firm lips were slightly opened showing pearly white teeth. His square jaws with its day-old beard growth lent more sensuousness to his face.

I feasted on his furry muscled chest which I touched reverently and cleaned a while ago.

His flat nipples, almost hidden by his chest hairs, were light brown turning darker at the aureoles. His beautiful cut cock was to the left which was exciting me. I felt the stirring of my cock as I hitched my eyes at it. I touched and rubbed my length feeling the sexual sensation of wanting to release and masturbate it. I felt the sticky wetness of my Escort panty oozing at my crotch. I gasped when I felt I wanted to ejaculate. I grasped my cock harder to control the spasm.

Damon’s hips and legs were muscular and hairy.

Hairy legs were my fetish and I felt a strong urge to touch and kiss them. After much hesitation I knelt before him and with deafening heartbeats which rendered me senseless, lightly touched my lips on one. I kissed his sole and foot fingers, drinking at its leathery but clean smell. Having tenderly licked both foot, I wound up kissing his left leg. I might have pressed my lips harder at his hairy limb, he flexed his foot. I remained unmoving, my heart beating loud and fast, but he did not woke up. My personal demons urged me to go on. I dropped all inhibitions as lust engulfed me. I continued the light touch of my lips on his limb and slowly moved to his hairy well-muscled legs cherishing this stolen moment. I stopped when his cock was before me. I felt I am on sacred ground. I believe I can only possess it if he allowed me to make love with him.

Temptation was possessing my sanity to no great end. I really wanted to suck his cock and I slowly lowered my mouth on it. I can almost feel the heat emanating from it when the tickle of his pubic hair assailed my nose. I opened my mouth to engulf his flaccid cock but stopped, confused to suck him or not. Ultimately, the not prevailed and I fixed on his heaving chest instead.

I closed my eyes and decided to masturbate at his side. After a few stroke my screaming juice roped off and my sanity returned. I can’t possess Damon this time. There is a right time in making love with him. This is not the right time.

But will Damon allow me to love him?

I am not vain, but I know I am handsome. One of my gay friend told me I looked like an Australian actor who was my namesake.

I have wavy black hair which I’ve dyed blond and always kept clean and soft. My dreamy eyes were my best asset plus my soft kissable natural pink lips. I have proportional body but not muscular, honed perfectly well with my regular work-out in a gym. Whenever I looked at myself naked in a mirror, I liked what I saw. I also liked my shaved and cut hanging member. It may not be as thick and long as Damon’s cock but it is whiter than my body color tone and my sacs were rounded and firm. They were just the perfect size. For me, I can be an object of desire.

To further control the head-splitting lust to possess a sleeping almost unconscious man I desire, I decided to put his place into order. Once in a while I stopped, looked at him and again was obsessed with a longing to touch and have him. I cringed with a frustrating desire having a hard on while soaking in every inch of his naked body.

I did it most of the time. For long, lingering times.

It was already dark when I finished cleaning his kitchen. When I looked at him again, he stood up with half-closed eyes. He went straight to his refrigerator and took water and drank from the bottle. And when he returned to his bed, our eyes met. His forehead creased and squinted as if he saw me for the first time. He looked at me transfixed and blurted “Why were you here?”

“You took me here this morning after the meeting. I was about to pose for your painting.” He looked perplexed as if I did not know what I was talking about and turned back to his bed.

I felt lost at his reaction. I decided to go home. “Please allow me to go home now Damon. If you need me, just call.”

“No, come here and stay for a while,” I was touched at his bidding.

He was leaning on his bed’s headboard, his eyes closed, his nudity glaring at me. I was becoming aroused again but he looked tired and I was concerned though I knew it must be his hang-over.

“Do you want something to eat?” I volunteered.

“Nah. I felt like puking, I can’t eat. Just sit here beside me. I’m sick of being alone I wanted human company.”

I was surprised at his answer for he had been swarmed with different people the last few days at his dad’s wake. But I felt it was a different human companionship that he meant. I stealthily sat at the foot of his bed but he opened his eyes. He tapped the part of his bed near him. “Here, where I can feel you.”

I could have heard the angels singing and my body lifted to a joyous plane with his bidding. I slowly approached him. I sat near him, so near, our body almost touched.

“So what was your personal relationship with my dad, is he your lover?”

He could have slapped me with his direct questioning but I managed to calm myself. “No, we were never lover,” I answered honestly.

“You haven’t sex together?” another slap.

“No. Never. He treated me like an extension of his art and passion which was dress designs. Our relationship was purely business.”

“Would you do that to me also?” at last a question that has stirred a different meaning and emotion within me.

“Yes. I could even walk an extra mile for you,” I answered honestly.

“What do you mean by that extra mile?”

I was speechless for a while. That extra mile really means a lot for me. I wanted to say, I can serve you and even be your sex slave if you wish.

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