THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Enrique

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

He really couldn't believe he was doing this. Thomas Gibson looked
around him in bewilderment. Legend had it that the refugees of the
Golden Circus Era of the early 1900's had banded together and
started a settlement in Achelon, but Thomas finally believed that
story. Everyone around him was dramatically circus-freakish, for
the want of a kinder word.

"Here we are, in an alternate universe," his colleague and best
friend Tobias Stephens said, his thick English accent a cool
contrast to the gibberish chatter around them both. "I've never
seen so many circus people in one place. Is that really a woman
with three eyes?"

"Nah, that's just a henna-painted tattoo." Thomas loosened his
tie, suddenly feeling very stupid in his shirt and suit. "Where's
the man sent to welcome us?"

At that moment, there was a sudden puff of smoke and a loud
thunderclap. Thomas dropped his briefcase onto his toes and Tobias
gave a startled cry. When the smoke cleared to some stray whistle
and applause from the people around them, Thomas saw a medium-
height, somewhat brown-skinned man in simple T-shirt and jeans
smiling at them. "Gentlemen, welcome to Achelon," the man said,
bowing theatrically.

Thomas recognized the thick accent as the voice he had spoken over
the phone three days before. "Mr Iglesias," he said stiffly.
"You're twenty minutes and," he glanced at his watch, "fifteen
seconds late."



Enrique Iglesias really shouldn't be here. He should be in Vegas,
entertaining an adoring audience who lined his pockets with cash
to see him escape from a giant aquarium filled with acid. Aunt
Zelda, bless her gypsy heart, however, had insisted that her
nephew come over and (to quote her) save the good name of Achelon.
It seemed skeptics and scientific upstarts were coming to Achelon
to demystify the myth of the circus, and Enrique's mother's family
refused to allow that to happen.

"Achelon needs the tourists," Aunt Zelda had rattled in Spanish.
"If these two silly gringos come over and write in their books
that we are all ragtag phonies and tell everyone that we shit and
piss like everyone else, no one would come."

"Aunt Zel, but it is you who invited them to come expose you!"
Enrique had protested. He wasn't in a good mood, especially when
the phone call came when he was about to finally get into Richie
Louie's pants. Damn, he so wanted to discover for himself Richie's
legendary skills in fellatio.

"It's publicity, silly boy. Achelon's 150 years old this month and
we want the scientists to write that they are in awe of us. That
will be great, ya?"

"Let me guess. The town council never think further than that
point."

"Well, I did tell them my nephew is a great magician. We all
decide that if anyone can distract these two and make them write
nice things about us, it's you. So be a good boy and come on down.
I'll make you your favorite corn custard cakes."

Corn custard cakes. Yummy. Enrique was definitely tempted, for no
one made home- cooked food like Aunt Zelda and it had been years
since Enrique enjoyed home-cooked meals. "But Aunt Zel, I'm in
Vegas! I have shows to perform."

"I'm sure a smart boy like you can get out of it."

He could. It took six hours of hard, sweaty sex to convince Barney
to give him an impromptu vacation. Degrading really. He had washed
his dick probably a thousand times and still couldn't quite shake
off the feeling of being used. Perhaps it was time to sack Barney
and get a lesbian manager. The last heterosexual female manager
didn't quite work out either.

Now, he fought the urge to yawn as he opened the door to the room
prepared for the man named Thomas Gibson. "This was actually my
room when I visited Aunt Zelda when I was a boy," he told Thomas.
"Well, I'll leave you to get unpacked. Dinner's at six. You'll
hear the dinner bell."

"Thanks."

Enrique looked at the man's smooth, unruffled face and wondered if
anything could disturb that cool arrogance. He hadn't felt this
feeling of being looked down upon since his days in boarding
school. Yet there was a hint of dimples and those high cheekbones
gave the man's otherwise ordinarily handsome face some character.
"So, you're one of those people who wastes the taxpayers' money by
investigating paranormal things?"

"No," Thomas said, pulling the curtains apart. "I'm just a
physicist. I'm not the one you should distract. Toby's the one who
wants to dissect your family and friends. That is, I trust your
plan is to distract us, right? Lead us astray, blind us to the
truth, that sort of thing?"

"I'm afraid you caught me red-handed there. You're ten steps ahead
of me, in fact. I have no idea how to distract the both of you.
Yet."

"Well, I'm sure you'll think of something."

"I'm good at thinking up something." Enrique watched the man sit
on the back and open his briefcase. He blinked. Something had
changed, he realized. There was something about Thomas that he had
failed to notice until now. He caught himself glancing at the way
Thomas shifted across the bed, the fabric of the slacks stretching
intriguingly along the shapely thighs, and then the fabric bunched
at the apex of Thomas' thighs gave a very nice illusion of a
tremendous erection. Enrique felt the room spun, and sat on a
chair before his knees gave way.

Strange, but Thomas was gorgeous. How come he had never noticed
that intelligent air of befuddlement around that man? Enrique had
a hidden weakness for nerds - he had a crush on his Chemistry
tutor back in his schooldays - and when Thomas took out a pair of
thick dark-rimmed glasses, Enrique almost creamed his pants. This
erection definitely beat the one he had when an old boyfriend
surprised him with two other willing studs in his bed on his
twenty-first birthday. Or the time another ex-boyfriend blew him
in public, in a Ferris wheel, of all places. Or the Most Erotic
Event of his life, finally scoring with his old Chemistry tutor in
his high school reunion party.

He was getting the hard-on of his life because of Thomas' glasses?



"Aunt Zel!" he yelled, slamming the door behind him. "Come out,
you old bag!"

Aunt Zel was having an audience of five old people, not one under
the age of 55. The town council, Enrique recognized them. And from
the look on their faces, not one of them was probably discussing
town politics when he interrupted them. The three six-packs, bingo
cards, and a huge bowl of pretzels suggested otherwise.

"What is it Juju?"

Enrique cringed. No one called him by that disgusting name after
he was old enough to beat up the boys who called him that. "You
put a love spell on me!"

"I did not!" Zelda Ruminov, proclaimed White Witch, answered
indignantly. "As if I need to sneak up on you young people. I have
to beat off the crowd begging for my love potions with a
broomstick!" She narrowed her eyes, suddenly crafty. "Eh, why do
you think I put a love potion on you? You feel this thing with one
of the two gringos?"

"Zel, not with an audience!" Enrique sat down, feeling that he had
definitely lost control of the situation. Aunt Zel did that to him
all the time, for which he loved that old witch dearly. "Hey, old
people, get lost!"

"That is so rude," Aunt Zel said, reaching out and twisting his
ear painfully. "Apologize at once."

Later, after Zel had dispersed her friends, they sat over a cup of
warm chocolate. "You sure you didn't put some sort of love potion
in my drink?" Enrique asked suspiciously.

"No. Ask me one more time, you silly boy, and I will pour the hot
drink on your lap. It's not love potion, it's the Time."

"What?"

"The Time. Every one of the Ruminovs has it, and your mother must
have passed it to you. Good for her! Never knew why she married
your stupid ass of a father. Miri, I told her, you can just have
an affair, tup that man, but don't marry him! But no, she marries
him and gets her heart broken."

"Yes, yes. But what about this Time thing?" Enrique had heard his
aunt rant about his father's womanizing and his mother - Zelda's
sister - weeping. Not that Miri actually wept. She could equal her
husband's scorecard when it came to adultery. Other children
rebelled against their strict parents by screwing around. Enrique
screwed around too, but thanks to juvenile rebellion instincts, he
was now stuck with a yearning for monogamy that he couldn't
outgrew.

"Oh, the Time is just a stupid word used to describe the feeling
when we Ruminovs have when we have met our lifelong mate. The
world spins and we lose our breath. We start seeing no one else
but the mate we have just met. It's destiny."

"I'm going to have that arrogant mule for a mate?"

"Which mule?"

"None of your business," Enrique muttered. He refused to believe
in superstitions, of course. The Time his arse. It was just lust
and the fact that he hadn't actually screwed anyone since the
aborted quickie with Richie. (The one with Barney he tried hard to
suppress out of his memory.) That was a month ago. Strange,
really, for he had gone without any for longer time that this, but
he had never been popping hard like this before. Even now, the
thought of Thomas in his bed, that arrogant demeanor reduced to
begging need as Enrique pounded into him, Thomas clawing at
Enrique's back as he screamed for Enrique to give it to him
harder, more, more, more ohyesohyesohyes...

"Enrique!"

He jumped, jolted from his pleasant daydreams, spilling chocolate
onto his lap. "Fuck!" he shouted when the boiling hot liquid
scorched his erection.

"That will cool you down. Now be a good boy and seduce that man
that catch your fancy. Remember though, if he's like your father,
don't bother beyond morning after."


TWO

Thomas watched the boy swallowed the third sword. How the boy
could squeeze three sharp blades into his throat is beyond Thomas'
immediate comprehension. He had tested the blades - they were
razor sharp and gave him a small nick for his trouble.

"It was all a matter of muscular dexterity," Toby said, snapping a
photo of the boy.

"How do you know?"

"I'm psychic."

Toby used that as a reason for everything. Thomas had met Toby in
a think-tank, when Thomas was a researcher and Toby a voluntary
research subject. Toby could detect auras, the paranormal
researcher had informed Thomas, and somehow Thomas and Toby became
friends over lunch. Toby was now a freelance paranormal
researcher, which explained his presence in Achelon.

"Come on Toby, don't tell me you're actually interested in
researching about these people," Thomas said, gesturing around
him. "These are simple people with some few extra talents like
sword swallowing and sleight-of-hand. Not exactly the mind-readers
and telekinetic and Uri Gellar-wannabes you usually expose as
frauds."

"No. I came here for a reason. In fact I wouldn't have come here
if Zelda Ruminov hadn't offered me a tempting prize on a silver
platter." Toby continued clicking away at his camera.

Thomas often wondered at the irony of a psychic being a skeptic of
the paranormal. Toby was the worst of the skeptics; he couldn't
resist at the chance of exposing the impossible to be exposed.
"Can I be let in on the secret plan then?"

"Oh, it's no big deal. It's our tour guide Enrique. He's the big
fish."

"He? He looks normal." Thomas thought of the man. Yes, Enrique
looked normal. Normal height, normal looks (except for that
prominent mole on his cheek), normal build. Great butt and body
though.

"He's one of the most successful act in magic, although he keeps a
low profile. I've seen him in action though. He is great, almost a
throwback to the glory of Houdini and three times as reckless."

"Nice, but how to you intend to do whatever it is you want to do
to him?"

"I just want to watch him. If he's actually a true magician, he
can't help it but to perform minor acts of magic that could either
be otherwise impossible or really magic. I intend to see that and
then get into his psyche."

"Sounds painful." Thomas caught sight of Enrique walking out of a
store. He ignored the fact that his heart gave a little jump at
the sight of the man in a white shirt that clung to his frame,
displaying broad, well-formed shoulders and narrow waist. And the
faded jeans gave him an authentic rugged look, and damned if those
jeans weren't sprayed on those muscular, shapely thighs
indecently. The sizeable bulge in the groin was obscene.

A group of children surrounded Enrique, pleading something in
Spanish. Enrique's well-polished laughter and theatrical gesture
suggested that this was a routine event. Thomas watched as Enrique
gracefully turned his right wrist nonchalantly. "How did he do
that?" Thomas murmured when where Enrique's hand was empty, there
was now a large bouquet of lollypops.

"Maybe he stuffed them in his crotch," Toby murmured as they
watched Enrique dispense the lollypops.



Enrique was going mad. His cock was killing him. His hormones were
driving him insane. Take him! Take him! they screamed in his mind
whenever he caught the sight of Thomas in the streets. It was
pathetic when he started to make sure he was where Thomas would
be. From the amused look of the other man Toby, Enrique guessed he
wasn't exactly subtle in his act. Perhaps his tongue was lolling
from his mouth without him knowing.

Alone, he sat in his aunt's study and stared at the night sky
outside the window. As usual, his thoughts were centered on his
favorite topic of the moment: Thomas. He wondered if the man slept
naked. He imagined Thomas naked, trussing around in bed, those
naked thighs dislodging the blankets to expose his nudity. Thomas'
cock would be hard as a rock. How long would Thomas' cock be
anyway?

He was babbling even in his thoughts. Really, it was going too
far. He would have to either fuck Thomas or get a substitute.
Somehow he knew a substitute would never do. He reached under his
T-shirt and rubbed his stomach absently. His cock was throbbing
like hell, causing a huge lump in his jeans, and he rubbed it
absently, feeling his balls tighten slightly upon contact.

He hadn't played with himself since he'd discovered the fun of the
real thing. And he had discovered that in the very same bed Thomas
was sleeping in. In fact, he could just imagine that night when he
opened the window and let the boy next door in. He shut his eyes
and cupped his erection, savoring the anticipation of a good jerk-
off, even as he imagined his first lover touching it, taking it
into his mouth, and- "Bloody hell," Enrique thought, opening his
eyes when he realized somehow the lover's face had taken that of
Thomas'.

"This has to stop."

"What has to stop?" Thomas said from the doorway.

Good thing the back of the chair shielded Enrique's touching of
his cock from Thomas' view. Enrique looked and swallowed as pure
heat seared his senses.

Thomas stood there wearing only baggy jogging pants. He smiled
sheepishly. "Look, I can't sleep. I thought I'd go find a book to
read. If I'm bothering you, I'll just go."

Egad, Enrique thought, adjusting his probably lust-crazed and
fearsome face into a more pleasant one. It wasn't easy, not when
Thomas stood there with his fair upper body exposed like a meal to
be devoured. Enrique's mouth watered at the sight of those dark
brown nipples puckering like luscious cherries amidst the pale
smooth and almost hairless chest. It didn't matter that Thomas'
body wasn't perfectly muscled or his abdominal muscles weren't as
perfectly corrugated and sculpted. When the man looked like that,
his dark, almost black hair carelessly rumpled and his blue-green
eyes hinting at intelligence, oblivious to his own sex appeal,
Enrique wanted nothing more than to howl in frustration.

He should be noble. If Thomas didn't come any nearer, Enrique
would be a nice gentleman and leave him alone. Until maybe ten
minutes later.

Thomas walked quietly to sit opposite Enrique.

Enrique looked at the sight of Thomas' bare feet treading the
carpeted floor and thought it was a far sexier sight than anything
in the world.

"Are you okay?" Thomas patted Enrique's knee, the touch sending
white-hot shock to Enrique's senses.

Too bad. It was destiny. Thomas refused to stay away and now
Enrique would have him.

Enrique snapped his fingers and a stalk of blood red rose appeared
between his fingers. "Here."

"You have that hidden somewhere in your sleeve," Thomas said, but
he smiled as he took the rose.

"Oh yeah?" Enrique snapped his fingers again and produced a
bouquet of the same type of roses. "How about this?"

"Toby said you'd probably hide them in your crotch."

Enrique's eyes followed Thomas' as the man lowered his lashes at
Enrique's blatant erection pushing against the confines of his
jeans. He saw the almost feminine eyelashes tremble, and the man's
Adam apple quivered.

"Maybe I should go," Thomas said shakily, trying to stand.

"Toby will be disappointed you gave in so easily. You're supposed
to try to discover how I do those roses. And this." Enrique
stretched and pulled a white rose out of thin air. He followed
that with a book.

"That's the book I was reading." Thomas sputtered. "How did you do
that?"

"Like you said, I hid it on my body." Enrique sat up and pulled
his T-shirt over his head. "See? Nothing here."

He was proud of his body. He knew without vanity that many found
it sexually irresistible. Hell, after years of body sculpting and
workout's in gyms, his body had better be perfect. Placing a hand
on the line bisecting his chest, he smiled. "Why not frisk me and
see if I indeed hide some things in my crotch?"

"Look, I'm not looking for - Enrique!" Thomas gasped when Enrique
pulled him down to the carpet with him. "Look, I am not..."

"If you're not gay, I'll teach you to be one," Enrique said,
growled actually. He placed his hands on Thomas' arms, clamping
them hard and pinning Thomas' hands to the floor. "Tell me you
don't feel it between us too." He placed his knees at each side of
Thomas and lowered himself until their chests are flattened
together and Enrique's cock was pushing hungrily at Thomas'. "I'll
make you want me. Want this," he said, grinding his cock hard
against Thomas. "Feel my cock? It's so filled with need. You made
me want you. You make my cock hard as a rock and my balls full of
lust. You made me want you, mad for you, and by God, you will give
yourself to me."

"Oh," Thomas could only gasp when Enrique's mouth sucked at his
Adam's apple, not- too-gently nibbling at it and the skin around
it. "Oh God, what are you doing to me?"

Enrique's reply was to caress, tug, pull, and fondle those nipples
that maddened him and made his mouth water even as he explored
Thomas' throat, his tongue burning the man's senses with its
caress. His thighs slowly insinuated between Thomas', and without
any coherent thought, the latter had spread himself wide to allow
Enrique's fingers to rub at the teasing groove between his legs.

"Careful, I haven't really - ohhhh!" Thomas threw his head back
when Enrique's mouth began kissing and tasting his body, slowly
moving down his stomach. The mouth stopped at the navel, Enrique's
tongue delving into the shallow hole. Thomas clenched his buttocks
and lifted his lower body insistently when Enrique tugged at the
man's waistband.

Then Enrique's mouth found Thomas' inner thigh, that rough tongue
moving along the sensitive skin, leaving a wet trail of moisture
from the upper thigh down to the inner knee. Then Enrique backed
up, until his face was buried in the heated juncture of Thomas'
thighs. When that tongue started rimming Thomas' puckering ring
muscles, tracing the curvature of the ring of muscles that
surrounded the hole, Thomas gave a shuddering cry. Then that
tongue speared right in, shocking Thomas with the sudden roughness
of the tongue's texture and the heat of Enrique's mouth
penetrating his yearning anus. He grabbed his legs and pulled them
as high and as far apart as flexibility allowed him. He let his
head fall back to the carpet and shutting his eyes as Enrique
began thrusting that tongue in and out of him; stopping just
almost outside to move in a circular motion that stretched Thomas
wide, before thrusting back in.

It was a motion too shallow. Too brief. Thomas was aching inside,
and there was a pulsating need in his loins that could only be
eased by deeper penetration. "Enrique, please." he began in a
choked voice.

"I know." Enrique raised himself.

Thomas shut his eyes, almost dreading the moment he felt the man's
broad and moist head of his penis fitting against his sphincter.
He felt Enrique push, and the agony that ripped through him caused
him to bite his tongue and dug his nails into Enrique's tensed
biceps. Then somehow, he felt himself give, and it was a shock
when he was suddenly filled so deep up, so good, so fucking good.
Enrique gasped when Thomas tightened his muscles around that
throbbing penis, sheathing him in a burning hot furnace of a grip.
"Move, damn you," he hissed, clenching his ass and flexing it even
as he gyrated his hips in shallow thrusts, "move!"

"You're so tight, so hot," Enrique choked back, every muscle of
his body tensed. "I'll come if you don't stop moving."

"Then come, you bastard!" Thomas cried, his gyrations became more
frenzied as the ache in him begged for relief. "Come, you fucking
son of a bitch. Give it to me! Fill me up."

Sweat rolled down Enrique's forehead to fall on Thomas' chest as
Enrique thrust one, two, three shallow thrusts, then he threw his
head back, eyes shut and teeth gritted hard as he arched his back
and plunged even deeper up Thomas' heated tunnel. He shuddered,
biting back a scream as his semen surged forth in his ejaculation,
flooding Thomas' anus and feeding the man's screaming need. Upon
feeling the hot liquid pouring into him, something inside Thomas
snapped and he cried out in pleasure-pain-relief when his own
orgasm racked him, spilling his semen down his thighs and all over
his stomach.

Enrique collapsed onto Thomas, breathing heavily. Thomas ran his
fingers through Enrique's short dark hair, listening to their
heavy breathing slowing in the aftermath of their coupling. At
length, Enrique gave a short laugh and said, "Guess what?"

"What?"

"We didn't even kiss," Enrique murmured and almost timidly touched
his lips to Thomas'. In doing so, he lifted his hips, letting his
half-erect cock pull a few inches out of Thomas. He slowly plunged
back in, blood filling his cock to tumescence once again, as his
tongue slipped between Thomas' lips.



"Oh God!"

Enrique opened his eyes reluctantly. The sunlight streaming into
the study momentarily blinded him, and it was a moment before he
could make out Tobias Stephens standing at the doorway in shock.

"What?" Thomas suddenly came to wakefulness beneath Enrique.
"Toby!"

"I told you to get him to trust you, not to sleep with him!" Toby
sputtered, hand on the doorknob.

"What?" Enrique reeled. It couldn't be. He threw himself off
Thomas, heedless of his nudity. "You're just seducing me to learn
my secrets?"

"No, I didn't. You started it, not me," Thomas shot back. He too
jumped to his feet, with a pained grimace.

"You're sore." Of course Thomas hadn't done that. Enrique cursed
himself to thinking the worst of Thomas so easily. Anyone could
see that that man was crazy about him. "I'll get you a warm bath."

"Forget it. You don't trust me, even after I let you," Thomas
blushed. "well, let you did what you did to me. Forget it. It's
obvious last night don't mean anything to you."

"Wait! Thomas, I... fuck!" Enrique cursed foully when Thomas and
Toby ignored him and slammed the door shut on his face.



THREE

"He's still outside." Toby looked up from the book he was reading
and looked out the window. "And it's raining."

"So?" Thomas stared miserably at the wall.

"I mean, it's obvious the guy is nuts about you. I'm sorry for
making him think the worst about you, but that's in the past. Two
weeks ago, really. That guy has been standing vigil twenty-four
hours every day, rain or shine, for fifteen days straight. Surely
you owe him at least a `Fuck off!'?"

Thomas stood up and looked out at the man sitting on the stairs of
the outside yard of the inn, not moving even when rain poured like
hell. "He will get a flu."

"Are you going to invite him in? I can always go downstairs to
chat with the innkeeper for an hour or so."

"I don't know. I hardly know him." Thomas paused and looked down
at the man waiting. Enrique had caused quite a talk with his
vigil, not budging from his self-imposed punishment. Aunt Zel sent
someone to send him his meals, and Thomas didn't want to know how
Enrique answered the call of nature. It was also a nuisance, as
Thomas found himself unwilling to face his feelings for that man,
much less meeting the man, and hence he too had cooped himself up
in his room. Now, he looked at Enrique and a thought hit him.
Enrique had been waiting for fifteen days, six hours, twenty-four
minutes and thirty-seven seconds. There was no guarantee that he
would wait any longer in the next minute, was there? What if
Enrique got tired and just walked away?

Thomas found that he didn't like that. He didn't like
unpredictable patterns in his life, and Enrique was unpredictable.
He didn't like the idea of not having Enrique around him. Magic
did somehow had its appeal.

"Toby."

"Yeah?"

"Get lost for a few hours."
