THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Christian

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

From the National Enquirer:

"Bad boy Christian Bale, 37, was in trouble as usual. Recently
sacked from his high-profile editorial post after a publicized
scandal involving him trying to prevent the publication of
children's author Ewan McGregor's book, he also had his wife of
six years, Trudy, filing for divorce on the grounds of his
adultery. Bale did not contest the divorce and agreed to an
astonishingly large financial settlement.

"If you wonder whether he had lost his mind to do so, you wouldn't
be alone. Whereas once his profligate lifestyle was mere rumors,
he now flaunted them openly. His outrageously bisexual lifestyle
might not last for long, however. The Bale family matriarch, whom
everyone knows rule the rest of her clan with an iron grip, was
reportedly not amused, and should she try to rein in Christian's
lifestyle, fireworks will definitely flare.

"Rumor has it, she had already dispatched some insignificant Bale
relative to send Christian his grandmother's ultimatum."



James Phillip LeGros never knew the extent of Belle Bale's
perverse sense of humor until he saw Christian Bale. Not as in
seeing a photo in the ancestral house mantelpiece, but in real
life. Christian Bale, a distant cousin of James', was everything
James wasn't.

The salt of the seafront was overpowering to a landlubber like
James. He felt out of place in his office white shirt and trousers
where everyone else was wearing casual and very little else. With
nothing but his briefcase to ward off the nauseating stench of sea
and fish, he staggered towards the crowd of people gathered to
welcome back the yachters that just ended a recent race.

James missed the silly race, arriving just a few minutes ago. He
hoped he was in time to catch Christian Bale, his mother's
cousin's. oh what the fuck, his very distant cousin. "Excuse me,
excuse me." he said, gently pushing the crowd of disgustingly
ecstatic and beautiful people aside. Just then, someone whistled
and cried "Woo-hoo, Christian! Great fucking job!" and James
turned to look at the yacht still far away from the wharf but
still within observation distance. His mouth fell open
involuntarily as he saw for the first time in real life the man
known among the family as the fucked-up blacker than black sheep.

The Bales were beautiful people, thanks to genetics and all the
cosmetic surgery their millions can buy. Hence it was no surprise
to see Christian Bale handsome as sin, with his regal,
aristocratic sculpted face and intimidating height. But unlike the
monotonous perfection of his family members, Christian's beauty
was also more raw and harsher. The harsh angular nose had been
broken, marring the smooth beauty of the man, and the too harsh
planes of his face accentuated this. Christian was a handsome man,
but his beauty was also that of a harsh, unpolished type, giving
him simultaneously an air of undeniable charisma and power as well
as beauty. It was easy to see why he was always the center of
attention in a crowd.

On his yacht, Christian was wearing nothing but a shockingly brief
pair of black bikini trunks that dipped low on the front, drawing
the eyes to the snug, prominent bulge of the crotch. When
Christian turned, James' eyes feasted on high, tight rounded
buttocks barely concealed by the black Lycra that stretched over
those cheeks like a layer of paint.

Even as James' blood started to hum with instinctive desire at the
sight of the gorgeous perfection before him, he felt for the first
time uncertainty at his presence here. What was he doing? All his
life he had been an insignificant member of the Bale clan, by
virtue of Belle adopting him after his parents were killed in an
accident when he was sixteen. While Belle had paid for his
education and all, most of the Bales made it clear that James was
an outsider, an interloper who got "in" only by default of Belle's
charity. Somehow James had never met Christian face to face even
after all these years, but now, looking at Christian, he had no
doubt that Christian would be like the other Bales: continuously
sneering and smirking condescendingly at his outsider status. And
Belle expected James to make Christian listen to him? Impossible!

And worse, there were a pair of gorgeous blond almost identical
twins, one male one female, lingering on board of Christian's
yacht. Judging by the way they touched and flirted with him as he
worked the yacht, they weren't probably there to keep him riveted
in conversation. James feel torn: he wanted to stand here and
watch the way Christian's well-formed muscles bulged as he worked
on the deck, and he also wanted to flee, twenty-three years of
having his self-esteem and ego crushed by the Bales' arrogance too
much a hurdle for him to handle without a large stiff drink.

He had to get out of here.



What was LeGros doing here? Christian Bale walked into the local
gay bar two hours later, wondering. He couldn't take his mind off
LeGros the entire day - what the fuck was the man doing here? He
absently unbuttoned his shirt in the heat and surveyed the crowd.

He didn't know why he wanted to see LeGros. The man was a distant
cousin who was related only by some marriage to some aunt of
Christian, known as that `LeGros kid' by the adults and `Gross
LeGros' by James LeGros' peers. Christian hadn't met James, but
his brothers and sisters had, and they all made fun of the scrawny
kid's stutter, weirdly shaped sneer, and shyness. Well, this grown-
up LeGros had filled up, slender and yet well built, but there was
still a hint of awkwardness in those well-formed shoulders and
posture. And those lips still looked. well, thick and ugly. Yet it
was a type of ugly Christian found fascinating. In fact, James was
simultaneously an unattractive yet mesmerizing man. A fascinating
conundrum.

Christian felt the man's eyes on him when he was on the yacht. He
wanted to know if he looked good in James' eyes.

He found the man sitting at the corner, looking most miserable as
the latter drown a mug of beer. Christian felt a smile blooming on
his lips as he walked towards James. Up close, the man was even
more compelling, with his broody eyes and those lips that seemed
to defy one not to kiss them. And Christian always was good for
dares.

"Hello, James. I recognize you from the family pictures. What are
you doing here?" he said, gracefully sliding into the seat beside
James.

James jumped in his seat, looking most startled, and the mug in
his hand wobbled dangerously. Christian reached out and touched
James' hand, steadying it. The contact burned Christian's touch,
causing his blood to heat and hum in every vein of his body from
his feverish brain to his hard cock. "Hi," Christian said, masking
the unsteadiness in his voice by sheer control alone. "You don't
look happy at all to see me."

Christian watched, bemused, as James took a long, deep drink. "And
you shouldn't be," James finally said. "I have some news from your
grandmother."

Uh oh. That sanctimonious, hypocritical old bitch never gave
Christian good news before, and he doubted she would start now.



The bastard was baiting him. Christian was deliberately toying
with him, James thought miserably, no doubt knowing how
irresistibly sexy he found that man. Chris sat with his back
against the wall, watching James, always with that smug grin in
place, as if he knew James was trying his best not to stare at the
man's erect, dark wine-red nipples or the hard, sculpted washboard
stomach. And Christian's jeans clung to the man's narrow hips,
clinging almost indecently low to expose the top of his white
briefs. And that bastard's left leg, deceptively lazily spread,
had eased between James' legs. A gesture that probably meant
nothing, but in James' feverishly lustful mind, it was an unfair
imagery of Christian moving between his legs, ready to.

Beer sloshed onto his hands, the coldness of the liquid on his
skin doing unfortunately little to quash his lust.

He was nervous, not because he was popping hard for this man.
That, he knew, had no chance of happening - impossible that a man
like Christian "Fuck, don't call me Chris, asshole!" Bale would
want Gross LeGros. He was nervous because he was awaiting
Christian's response to Belle's demands. Please, let Christian say
no. Then James could go back to his normal, unexciting life with
the account books.

"Okay," Christian said. "I'll go see Belle."

With that, James' nerves snapped. Christian had just agreed to
travel back to the Bale estate with James. A second with Christian
was unbearable. He would kill himself after an hour of frustrated
lusting after this man.

"With one condition," Christian said. "What's the matter, LeGros?
You look most bitter. You want me to go visit our dear
grandmother, don't we?"

"What's the condition?" James said through gritted teeth.
Christian was definitely mocking him, just like every other Bale.

"We travel by land. In my jeep."

"But why not plane?" James couldn't help asking like a lost child.

"Because I want to use the jeep. I have time to kill." Christian
shrugged, a lazy yet elegant gesture that only caused his
unbuttoned shirt to fall back his shoulders. "And I know you will
do anything for Belle. You're her pathetic lapdog. She asks, and
you jump through hoops."

James made to stand up. He couldn't take this mockery. He didn't
have to.

"Hey, I'm just teasing," Christian said smoothly. "But it's true,
or else you wouldn't come all the way here just to get me back."

James muttered a curse and started to walk away.

"James."

He ignored the man's name. He was his own man now, and he didn't
have to take shit from the Bales. His loyalty was to Belle alone.
but not at the expense of his own pride, or what little of it.

Christian caught him by surprise. He didn't even know the man had
walked after him, and only when Christian's hands gripped his
shoulders, roughly turned him around, and then slammed him back
across the wall hard did James knew. He made to protest, but his
curses died on his tongue when Christian's hand went around his
throat not-too-gently while another still bit into his shoulder,
both hands pinning him hard with his back against the wall.

"Everything okay?" someone called towards them.

"Yeah," Christian said, his voice icy steel underneath his
pleasant tone.

To James' dismay, the bar clients resumed their business, ignoring
he and Christian. Apparently, everyone knew whom not to mess with
in this area. James tried to pry the fingers around his neck
loose, but he froze when Christian, his lips merely an inch away
from James', said in a low, hard voice, "Don't walk away from me
like that ever again, you fucking get me?"

"Get off," James answered back. "You're nuts. I'm washing my hands
off you - get the fuck off me!"

"Ever had a wild one-night stand, LeGros?" Christian asked,
ignoring the other man.

"Fuck you."

"How about it?" Christian asked pleasantly, as if they were
discussing a dinner date. "You and me, hot unbridled sex. You want
me, don't you?" He lifted his knee and playfully grazed the hard
bulge in James' crotch. "And I want you. Bad. Come on, LeGros.
We'll fuck, and I'll be good to you. I'll be nice. You'll like me
when I'm nice." The tip of his tongue snaked out and licked James'
lower lip slow, tracing the curve of the rich, succulent flesh.

"Get off me," James said again, this time his voice holding a
distinctive plea for mercy.

"No," Christian answered.

"You can't force me."

"I don't have to." Christian smiled knowingly. "I know your cock
is hard, and your ass is probably clenching hard now, wanting to
be filled with hot, stiff cock. And I can feel your nipples hard
too against my chest."

James' sound, a muffled whimper, was one of weak protest and
frustration as he tried to push Christian off. A man with
conscience would have called this off, but Christian had no
conscience. He wanted James, and what he wanted, he took, abused,
and discarded. Hence, he moved off James, his body lamenting the
loss of contact, but he kept an iron grip around James' right
wrist. "Come on, James, just one fuck - how could it hurt? And
I'll stop this. I won't be forcing you anymore. Just one fuck."

James wanted to flee, Christian could see that, and that thought
only excited him more. But the man was caught like every other fly
in Christian's web. When Christian gently tugged him towards the
men's room, James followed meekly, silent. Just the way Christian
liked his toys.



TWO

James didn't know whether he was in heaven or hell. If he were
saner, he would be amazed that Christian would dare choose this
very open men's room for. this! But all rational thoughts fled
when Christian roughly turned him around. James found himself
facing the wall with a mirror and a sink. As Christian continued
pushing him against the wall, James instinctively lifted his right
leg so that his knee rested inside the bowl of the sink.

And Christian's arms at his hips pushed him up, until he found
himself balanced precariously with one knee in the sink (and that
trousers leg becoming wet) and a - what's that? - a bucket, maybe,
upended so that James could climb on it. And then Christian was
pulling down James' trousers, barely down to the middle of his
thighs, just enough to - "Ah!" James bit down his scream as
Christian's cock forged its way into his anus. Christian was too
thick, stretching Mark wide open in splitting pain, and the man
was relentless in his cruel forging upwards. The muscles of James'
stomach clenched as he arched in pain, his buttocks instinctively
clenching hard on that thick, unyielding shaft up his ass.

"So tight, so fucking hot tight," Christian said as his hips gave
another plunge forth, and another, and then he was in so deep that
James felt sparks of pleasure singing his every senses, emanating
from his violently bruised prostate.

James looked in the mirror, and saw Christian's face, eyes closed
and his mouth hanging open in an expression of ecstasy. Awed that
he was the one who caused Christian to be so helpless, he couldn't
look away. His senses supplied what he couldn't see - the feel of
Christian's pubic hair brushing against his butt cheeks with each
thrust, and the way the man's balls slap against the back of
James' - Christian was fucking James so deep, he wanted to close
his eyes to savor it all, the sensations of agony/unbearable
ecstasy convulsing in waves over him - and the harsh, ragged
breathings of theirs, melding in one guttural symphony of
pleasure.

He couldn't see, but he could feel. He could feel the thick veins
of Christian's shaft abrading his anal walls, and he could even
feel the thick, blunt crown of Christian's cock pulling James'
pucker inside out with each withdrawal of that cock. Each thrust
deep caused James to cry out as his prostate received the bang of
his life.

Then Christian was coming. Oh yes - the thick, heated seminal
fluids - gushing in powerful ejaculations up James' badly burning
orifice. James clenched his buttocks, drawing a pained groan from
Christian as he adamantly milked that man hard, draining him of
every drop James could wring from the man's overheated testicles.

Christian fell onto James, his sweat-drenched forehead causing a
fast spreading damp patch on James' shirt. They lay there,
breathing heavily. And it was Christian who got his breath back
first, only to waste it in choked laughter as he moved off James.

"I told you it'll be hot and wild," he said.

James stared into the mirror, at Christian who looked back, an
unabashedly crooked grin on the man's face as he fastened his
trousers. He didn't know what to feel - tumultuous feelings in his
chest that he couldn't put a name to warred and confused him.

"Come on," Christian said, tossing a roll of toilet paper at
James. "Clean up."



"Wanna come back to my yacht with me?" Christian asked the moment
they walked out the bar.

James was about to ask the other man where they should meet the
next day for their trip to New York. This question caught him by
surprise, however. He turned and looked at Christian who was
standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at James in an
inscrutable look. In the light streaming from the bar inside,
partially shielded by the door that Christian held half-closed
behind him, the man's face was in shadows.

"No. You have company in the yacht," James reminded him.

"Oh yeah." Christian sounded irritated at being reminded of those
twins. It seemed that he had forgotten their presence. That amused
James for no reason other than perversity on his part. "I'll send
them away," Christian said, again catching James by surprise.
"They're not fun anymore."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I find you fun now." Christian took a step down the stairs,
and James couldn't fight his instinct to take a step back in
response. "I'll just send them back to their father."

Christian was now walking to stand before James. Much taller than
James, he towered over the man like a powerful, imposing figure.
James could still feel the scent of their recent coupling that
clung like the sweetest of ambrosia to their skin and clothes. And
from the soft sounds of Christian's deep inhalations, James was
aware that not only the other man was aware of the scent, he was
reveling in it, purposely intoxicating himself with the fragrance
of still drying semen on still feverish skin. Christian's hand
roughly moving to grab James' chest to pull the man close was the
absolute proof of the man's carnal abandon - unlike James who was
still edgy about having fucked so abandoned in an episode so
meaningless, Christian enjoyed it, fuck that man. Those fingers
now dug and massaged into James' pectorals as Christian continued
his talk in a hypnotically soothing tenor.

"Run away with me, James."

"W-what?"

"Don't go back to Belle. Join me - I'll sail us to my private
island and I will make you happy. Really happy."

"You're crazy," James answered shakily, but the suggestion was too
tempting to even contemplate. Alone, he and Christian, in their
private Eden where they could fuck all they want, where and when
they wished. it was too tempting an idea, and coming from a Bale,
fatal to even contemplate. "No."

"Come on," Christian could make two simple innocuous words the
most seductive lures James had ever heard. "You and me, naked all
the time, fucking and sucking and tasting each other. I'll pour
warm honey all over your naked skin and I will lick every inch of
your skin."

"Please don't," James pleaded as Christian pushed him back.
towards a darkened alley. "Chris, have mercy."

"Christian, damn it, call me Christian!" But the momentary, even
comical PO expression on the man's face soon smoothened off into
the usual charming, seductive fa‡ade. The brief lull in the spell
of seduction, however, gave James the strength to try to break
free from Christian's hold. Big mistake - it only angered
Christian, judging from the guttural curse the man made before
pushing James against the wall.

It was a dark alley, so near the street, but it might as well be
another world in its darkness and seeming detachment from the rest
of the environment. "You and me," Christian whispered in a voice
both a furious oath and a seductive plea. "In the dark, LeGros,
you, me. You can do whatever you want with me, and I am at your
service, how and where you want me. I can be your top, or I will
play your bitch, LeGros. Think about it. Let Belle hang out and
wait. Have me instead."

So tempting. to just walk away from Belle and his obligations to
her. To, for once, just let go and enjoy what he was being
offered. Such as now, where Christian had pushed James' hands
under his shirt and up so that James could touch Christian's
nipples. Even as James' fingers on their own accord pinched those
elongated, erect nipples, he tried to avoid Christian's descending
kiss, but there was no escape.

They kissed. Another encore, or maybe a more heated one, he didn't
know. James only knew that he was drowning, drowning, drowning in
the taste of Christian. The spell only broke when he felt
Christian pulling down James' pants, and then Christian's hairy,
tight ass ring was sheathing on James' cock. James' knees
staggered, and it was the wall behind him and Christian's tight
clamp on his cock that kept him standing. James reached down and
lifted Christian's knee, the same leg that Christian lifted to
place his sole against the wall to allow himself better lever to
go down on James' cock.

James thrust, his hips hard buckling lifting his buttock off the
wall, and Christian responded with his downward plunge of his
body, his groin making a circular gyration motion that only caused
James' cock to penetrate deeper. And this way, they fucked, lost
in an orgy of kisses and gyrations of their colliding groins,
until ecstasy washed all their coherent senses asunder.

"Say yes," Christian whispered unsteadily in the aftermath of
their passion. "I'll toss the irritating twins out, and I'll take
you to my island. Say yes, LeGros."

He shouldn't. Christian Bale, like all the other Bales, would use
him and then toss him aside when he amused them no longer. James,
however, had lost his mind ever since he saw Christian. The choice
was obvious: he couldn't say no.

"Okay," he answered. "Okay, damn you." And then he pulled
Christian down for another kiss.




THREE

James couldn't even run away like normal people would, Christian
mused as he leaned back against the jeep and watched James walk
out of his motel room with his bag of clothes in one hand and a
cell phone in the other. Christian would bet that the man was
probably renegotiating and extending his leave with his accounting
agency, and no doubt James would call Belle and sheepishly leave
an apologetic message too.

Christian killed any doubts he had over tossing aside the not-too-
pleased Helgor twins for James. James amused him better than those
two tiresome twins, and from last night, James would be as good a
fuck as those twins. Sleeping with James would be no difficulty if
the prize was a postponement in seeing Belle. He knew what that
old bitch would say: she would lecture him and threaten to
disinherit him. Disinheritance was one threat that wouldn't work
with Christian. So he was fired, big fucking deal. He had his own
money, too much of it, made from his wise investments in
successful ventures and shrewd dealings in the stock exchange.
Sure, losing the Bale fortune would be a blow to his lifestyle,
but he would live without it just fine. He just didn't want to see
Belle.

He'd rather screw James. Not liking all these disturbingly
emotional thoughts that kept plaguing him ever since his kept boy
JP ran off with a loser bastard months ago, he clung to lust for
James like a drowning man to a buoy. When he got confused or
bogged down with melancholy, he tended to hurt himself or people
around him, and he didn't like that.

"Ready to go?" he asked James in his brightest voice. He really
was looking forward to this trip.

"Can we stop at a drug store? I need some seasickness pills just
in case," James asked.

Christian grinned, charmed inexplicably by that request. He
wondered too how James did it, this look of his - well-groomed,
perfectly pressed clothes despite being still quite early in the
day, and that hair only slightly disheveled enough to give the
otherwise groomed and polished James a rugged air. Christian knew
for a fact that James had only at most two hours' sleep last night
when he slipped back into his motel just before dawn. How did this
prick accountant do it, looking this good in the morning?

"Sure," Christian said, taking James' bag and tossing it to the
back of his jeep. "If you get seasick I'll take care of you," he
added. "I'll boil hot water and wipe your mouth with warm cloth."

"Whatever." James looked at Christian pointedly, and Christian
fought the urge to cross his arms and looked back sullenly like a
child under a schoolteacher's gaze. James, if given the chance,
would nag like a bitter housewife. That Christian realized soon
enough. Usually he would stay clear of such people, for they just
wouldn't shut up outside the fucking, but with James, he was.
charmed. How bloody strange. "Aren't you going to get dressed?"
James asked.

How rude. Christian looked down at himself. He was wearing only a
pair of rower shorts and an unbuttoned Aloha shirt. "What? You get
distracted at my chest?" he asked, deliberately scratching his
right nipple. "Get used to it. When we get on the boat, these
shorts will be gone too. You'll be seeing all of me, all the
time." The thought was already causing his half-mast cock to
harden. "I meant what I said last night, James. I'm yours.
Anytime, anywhere." He rubbed his hard cock in his shorts
deliberately to make his point.

James swallowed, but oh yes, he wanted it. Bad. He was just
scared. Christian understood, really. A lifetime living under
Belle's tyranny would make anyone a timid mouse afraid to enjoy
life.

He'd teach James to have fun, he promised himself. "Lighten up,"
he told James as he opened the door of the jeep for James.
"Fucking me wouldn't be that bad."

James surprised him then with an impulsive kiss, a too brief one,
on the lips. "No," the man said. "Not bad at all."

"We will have fun," Christian said with high spirits as he jumped
into his seat. Oh yes, they would. "Wait until you see my island.
You know about it? I'll tell you about it anyway. Here we go!"

The jeep roared down the street.




FOUR

Far from having wild, hot, non-stop fuck-tastic copulation, James
LeGros, first class loser, spent most of the first day at sea
throwing up into a bucket. He lay back on the bed, hungry from
having thrown up whatever little he tried to eat each time and too
weak to even move, feeling as if the whole world had conspired to
stop him from having wild sex with Christian.

It was late evening, judging from the amount of light coming in
from the tiny windows (James didn't know the correct terminology
to use on those slits), when Christian walked into their room.
True to his word, he had ditched his shirt and shorts. And even in
his condition, James couldn't help but to perk up at the sight of
Christian's glorious nude form and his first actual glimpse of the
low, pendulous balls of that man and the impressively large even
when flaccid shaft lying quiescent. Even if his weakened body
couldn't muster the state of arousal needed, his mind could still
appreciate the memory of that cock ramming up his ass, or the way
those large hands held his thighs when they fucked that night.

"How are you feeling?" Christian asked in a voice surprisingly
gentle. He did make a grimace though at the stench in the room. So
much for Mr Sensitivity.

"I take it you wish you had kept the twins onboard?" James asked.
"And I think I'm going to die."

"You won't die. And no, the twins I don't miss. They're good in
bed, but they tend to act like ten-year olds when they are not
being fucked." Christian picked up the bucket and nodded at James.
"Stay here," he said unnecessarily. "I'll go empty this."

When Christian came back, James tried to sit up to look at him but
couldn't. "Who are those twins anyway?" he asked. "I wish I can
meet people like them. I could use some hot twin sex in my life."

"They're the kids of someone I know. Their father asked me to take
them on a wholesome fishing trip." Christian winked. "Both are
technically virgins when they came onboard. None longer."

"Jesus, I thought they looked young. Shame on you."

Christian gently pushed James aside as he lay beside the man. "I
don't have any scruples, LeGros. I spent too long hiding this part
of me, but no longer. I am no longer responsible for anyone but
myself."

"Nice."

"I spent ten years trapped in a marriage I didn't want. Why? To
please Belle. Sure, I screwed around, but I always kept it quiet.
But I've had enough. I'm not going to live like that anymore."
Christian turned to James. "LeGros, why are you looking at the
ceiling like that?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Nothing. It's just that I find it odd that you are telling me
things like this. Personal things."

"Oh, okay."

Now James turned to look at Christian. "You sound disappointed.
You expect me to be any different from those others who shared
your bed?"

"Well, you're the responsible doggy type," Christian said. "I
don't know - somehow I just started talking things I never tell
people when I'm with you. You're dangerous. You hungry?"

"I don't dare to take a bite."

"Well, I insist. I want you alive when we get to the island."
Christian playfully reached down and cupped his balls. "You're
gonna have to make up to me what I'm doing without today and
tomorrow."

"Just make sure you don't cook your cock by accident," James
muttered sulkily.

"Hey, didn't I tell you? I am an old pro at doing things naked.
When I can handle the washing machine without wearing any clothes
- no wait, I think handling the cheese grater will be the ultimate
- I can do anything." Christian got up the bed and pulled at
James' hand. "Stand up, LeGros, and follow me up on deck. Come on,
get some fresh air. I'll cook us something while you try and get
some sea legs."

"Okay," James said, wobbling slightly on his feet. "What will you
be cooking?"

"Something nice." Christian caught James when the yacht shook and
the man staggered. "I - shit!"

James threw up all over Christian. "Sorry," he said. "So sorry, I
- "

"Hey, that's okay," Christian said. "Relax. I'll just take a dip
in the sea and everything will be okay. Can you walk?"

James nodded. "How soon will we get on land?"

"As fast as I can," Christian said wryly. "So hang on in there,
LeGros."



Christian made chicken soup. Can material, of course, but
nonetheless, James found the hot broth delicious and most
appetizing in his state. Something about a naked man feeding broth
patiently to him from a spoon did wonders for his appetite.

"Aren't you eating?" James asked when he finally finished the last
spoonful. He sat back, content and his stomach pleasantly filled
with warmth. "I can try to feed you back."

His voice trailed when he saw that Christian was sporting a huge
erection. The man must had had it for a while, since the tip was
already coated with a sheen layer of lubricant, a drop even now
oozing like a pearl from the slit.

"You licking and sucking at the spoon," Christian said huskily.
"Damn, I hate you. I am hard and you are seasick and weak."

"Sorry," James muttered. He tried, his hormones went flaring
briefly, but he just couldn't muster a hard-on.

"Oh, stop apologizing," Christian said. He took his own bowl of
soup and then studied James. "You know what, I have an idea. Take
off your clothes."

"What?"

"Take off your clothes. You are going to be as naked as me for the
rest of this trip."

"I - "

"You're not even going to fight me on that, are you?" Christian
asked.

"No. I'm just asking if you can give me hand here."

Christian grinned, and without much ceremony, grabbed James' shirt
by the collar and ripped. Ignoring James' indignant protest -
"That's my favorite shirt!" - he reached for James pants. Sure
enough, the man wasn't even half-hard, though there was no denying
James' flushed face. That man wanted Christian. That was enough to
satisfy Christian. He took the bowl of soup and tested its warmth
with his finger. Just right. And he then poured the soup all over
James' naked groin.

"Oh," James couldn't help saying as he felt the warm, thick creamy
broth poured down his cock, and inside his thighs like extra
smooth layer of the richest of sultry lubrication. He rubbed his
thighs together. "This feels good."

Christian parted the man's thighs, and sitting cross-legged
between James' spread wide legs, he began to eat dinner. James
thought the feel of Christian's tongue slowly licking every inch
of his skin would drive him mad. But when Christian nibbled at the
pieces of meat trapped by James' pubic bush, or when Christian
started lapping and sucking at James' asshole, the man spitting
back the creamy broth into James' anal passage before sucking it
back into his mouth, James thought he had gone mad. Surely no one
could survive this pleasure? Oh, oh, oh. and his own quiescent
cock managed to get to half-mast. Not bad.

But James wasn't weak enough to open his mouth when Christian
rubbed his cock at the man's lips. And when Christian shoved his
cock down James' throat, James sucked and nibbled and licked until
he was rewarded with the ultimate dessert - and there was so much
of Christian's hot molten seed that James couldn't swallow fast
enough.

Christian licked at James' chin, and then he was kissing James,
letting James share Christian's own semen between them both, even
as he gently lowered the back of the easy chair James was sitting
on.

"What are you going to do?" James asked laughingly when they broke
off the kiss. "The chair isn't big enough for the both of us."

Christian licked at a stray creamy trail from the left edge of
James' lips before answering, "Think you can sit on my cock and
ride me? I'll hold you to make sure you don't fall."

"I can do that," James said.

And he could.




FIVE

Gull Island wasn't an island that Christian bought for himself.
There was no fucking way he could be that rich in one lifetime. It
was an island always held by the Bales since the 16th century,
through some convoluted but legal bindings that allowed it to
remain in Bale hands after all these years.

Christian liked to think of it as his, because he was the main
person who made Gull Island profitable. In truth, he wasn't the
sole owner - his ownership was in the form of his shares in the
hotel on Gull. But it was his idea that made Gull the tourist
mecca it was today, and he never let his cousins who now ran the
place forget that. And since he was also the largest shareholder,
and this island would fall under his name after Belle died, he
also had a part of the island made his own private sanctuary,
where no one would be allowed in but he.

He had never brought anyone here until James, not even his ex-wife
when they were married. Technically, there was that French artist
he brought to Gull Island last year, but they spent their time at
the public areas of Gull Island. James LeGros would be the first
person to step foot in Christian's private world. Christian didn't
know why. He didn't even know why he suggested that James come
along with him that day. He had what he wanted then, a quick fuck,
and he could had walked away. But instead, here he was, letting
James into a piece of his life that he fought hard to kept private
and his and only his.

But he wasn't a man to ruminate over emotions. What was done was
done, and they were here. Christian carried James in his arms the
way he carried a bride through the threshold, laughing as he
stepped onto the pier and placed James down.

James had refused to let the silent personal staff of Christian,
who had waited for them after Christian called them earlier, to
see him naked, and Christian had reluctantly let James pull on a
pair of shorts and T-shirt. He didn't care for clothes himself,
completely naked now except for socks and shoes. He stretched,
letting the evening air ran cool over his nude form. Unlike James,
he had no reservations about his nudity, and if the staff liked
what they saw, well, good for them, because Christian didn't give
what they thought about him a flying fuck.

He didn't care that he was sporting an erection, aroused that he
was even by his proximity to James or that his pubic region was
still two shades flushed red than the rest of his body on the
account of the buggering he had just given James before they left
the yacht. James would say that was typical Christian Bale - self-
absorbed, not caring what people thought, and typical sex fiend.
As he walked behind James, he absently let his cock brush against
James' thigh, and he grinned when James pressed back. The man was
loosening up by the minute.

He was glad he brought James here, Christian decided. The man was
great to talk to, and he was a pretty good lay too. No regrets -
he would have the time of his life as always.



"Don't you ever put on clothes?" James asked, looking up from his
reading in the sun the next day. But he ruined his disapproving
effect by reaching up and taking a lick at Christian's balls with
his tongue.

Christian laughed as James pulled him down to bury his nose under
James' balls, that tongue now snaking into the folds that guarded
Christian's asshole until Christian shuddered with pleasure. "I
hate clothes," Christian managed to say as he played with James'
hair. "I don't wear them unless I absolutely have to."

James resurfaced for breath and shook his head at Christian. "I
worry for you, Christian. I really do."

"Hey, don't be. I'm a big boy now. And you, LeGros, are too
serious."

"I'm a pessimist."

"I know. And I understand."

James looked at Christian curiously. "Really?"

"Yeah." Christian moved off James and sat down beside the man. He
reached out to trace his fingers along James' arm. "I'm a
pessimist. I try not to be. Or think."

"I guess you can. You're a Bale, after all," James said wryly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Speaking as a professional Bale hanger-on," James said, "I can
say you Bales always do what you want, damn what people say. It
comes with the money and power, I guess."

"You're a Bale by infusion," Christian pointed out. "Your mother
married a Bale. Or someone."

"Not really. I'm just a kid Belle took pity on."

"Fuck Belle," Christian said. "She took you in. Fine. I don't see
why you spend the rest of your life jumping around at her order."

"I owe her my life. That's something, an obligation."

Christian made a rude sound. "But she brought you to me," he
conceded. "That's something."

James cast him an odd look. "That statement sounds ominous."

"Don't read too much into it," Christian said. Did he sound too
forced? "If I knew there is such a fuckable morsel back in the
house, I'd have visited more often for the holidays. What would
Belle say if she discovers us fucking each other's brains out?"

"She knows I'm gay."

"Really?"

"I think." James chuckled. "I never did say. But she knows
everything."

"Yes, she knows everything, that old bitch," Christian said.

"Do you hate her that much?"

"Hate? No. I don't care about her to feel a strong emotion like
hate." Christian looked at the sky - beautiful blue. Maybe they
should take a swim later. "I married because of her pressuring me.
I did a lot of things when I was younger to please her. I tried so
hard to hide my weaknesses. I always am weak this way, LeGros. I
love sex too much. I can never get enough of it. And I was always
so ashamed back then that she would find out my sins. So I
married. Tried to have kids, but after she miscarried, I stopped
trying and just screwed her for fun. I screwed around on her too,
and I didn't care if she found out. I am a bad son of a bitch. I'm
actually glad she left me."

"Consider myself warned not to get too attached to you. Don't be
so proud of your SOB tag, Christian. You're not alone among the
Bales."

"Do you hate us that much?" Christian asked, echoing James'
earlier question.

"Sometimes," James admitted. "I spent my teenage years being
bossed around, beaten, bullied, and taunted `Gross LeGros' by
everyone."

"And Belle allowed this?"

"She hated weak people, and I never told her. I tried to fight
back, but hey, when I'm living on charity, how much can I do?"

"A martyr and a pessimist. You're pathetic," Christian said
mockingly.

"I know. I'm 39 now and I still can't outgrow all these fucking
childhood trauma. You know, if I could, I'd stop jumping and
obeying Belle. But I still feel this obligation inside to cater to
her. She's old. She was my mother in every way that counted."
James shrugged. "Anyway, it's not so bad. I have my own life now,
and apart from Belle's occasional demands, my life is Bale-free."

"Good for you." Christian closed his eyes. Somehow hearing how
James wasn't fond of the Bales left this dampening aftereffect on
his enthusiasm for the rest of the day. "You like me, right?" he
couldn't help asking, however.

"You're okay for the good times," James admitted.

And Christian decided maybe things weren't that unsalvageable
after all.



James decided that he was living a dream. A haze of intoxicating
pleasures that threatened to cause his senses to overload. It
wasn't just sex - Christian was a master in creating an illusion
that James and he were living in some private Eden of their own.

Contrary to his expectations, Christian's private holiday home
turned out not to be a giant mansion but a small waterfront house
with only one bedroom, one room converted into a gym/music/TV room
(they had cable TV here), a toilet-cum-bathroom, and a store room.
And each morning Christian would wake James up with a gentle kiss
where they would then more often than not made love in the shower
before spending a few hours at the gym.

And Christian would cook. He told James that the provisions all
came from the hotel at the other side of the island, with the
staff there stocking up this place after he sent word a few weeks
in advance of his arrival. A decent cook was what Christian turned
out to be, as long as he didn't try anything more sophisticated
than eggs and any fried/burnt meat. Thank God for canned food.

James was starting to love these non-sexual moments, which
disturbed him. Common sense dictated that he wasn't supposed to
enjoy anything other than the sex. But when Christian placed his
arms around James and stopped at that, his chin on James'
shoulder, as they watched Queer As Folk (James loved it, Christian
loathed it - and they couldn't agree on it at all), James felt
this inner quiet inside him that was simultaneously a calm as well
as a turbulent fear. Or the way they just sat there (Christian
conceding to wearing shorts this time) on the beach after a hard
evening's jog, their breathing seeming to be in one actual
synchrony. Or the way James would wake up in the middle of the
night to see Christian studying him, a pained/gentle look on his
face - all of this scared him. He didn't want to care for
Christian anymore. no, wait, he didn't want to care at all.
Period. To care for a Bale was the surest way to heartbreak.
Hadn't he learned all these years?

The night was cool, and perfect for sleeping off the lethargy of a
good fuck session. James couldn't sleep a wink, his thoughts a
jumble of confusion. What was he doing here? It had been - two
weeks, he guessed, for he had almost lost track of time here.

"Go to sleep," Christian muttered, one hand sleepily reaching over
to James.

"How do you know I'm awake?" James asked absently.

"I know," Christian said, opening one eye. "I can't hear you
snore. I don't know how or why, but I can't sleep when you're
awake. So tell me - what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," James said. "I'm just thinking of tomorrow," he said.
It was the truth, partially.

"Well, don't try to worry too much." Christian yawned. "Look, I'm
tired. Sleep, please."

"Okay," James said, sighing softly as he snuggled up to Christian.
He wondered how Christian did it, this blithe uncaring of the
future or whatever come what may, and he wished he could do it as
well as Christian. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't help feeling that
this was an uneasy idyll, a peaceful one, but nonetheless, he was
sure somehow, the other shoe would drop soon, and life would go
back the way it was. Trouble was, he wasn't sure if he wanted his
old life back.



"I wasn't going to show you, but I decided to anyway." Christian,
sounding uncharacteristically furious, caused James to look up
from his reading the morning newspapers. "Here," Christian said,
throwing down a magazine.

"What's this?" James asked absently, flicking the pages of a gay
adult magazine. He froze when he saw the center spread.

"I can only imagine how they must have rushed them through
publication," Christian said, sitting down beside James. "I have
no idea how they got those pictures."

Pictures of he and Christian that night in the gay bar - James bit
back a hysterical laugh. Here they were, in all explicit glory,
the fucking photographer actually managing to get the precise
angle perfectly. There was no mistaking that there was penetration
involved.

"I know guys in my place that buy this magazine," James said, his
voice hollow even to his own ears. "I must go back, tell them - "

"No, you can't go," Christian blurted.

"Yes I can," James snapped, his voice hardened thanks to the panic
he was feeling. This was what he would get for screwing around
with a Bale, he thought, panicked. He would lose his job. He
would. he should know better, he realized. What else could come
out of this but disaster? "I can get fired for this!"

"Why? Because you have sex? That's ridiculous!"

"No, because I had sex with you," James shakily answered. "What
will Belle say if she finds out? Oh God," he moaned, dropping the
magazine.

"I see. So it's me you're ashamed about," Christian managed to
say. "Okay. You sure you want to risk seasickness again?"

James groaned and placed his head in his hands. "I'm
overreacting."

"Yes, you are," Christian said. "And you have insulted me too."

"It's not you, Christian, it's your reputation. Belle will be mad
at me. And I told my boss I was attending to an `ill' Belle. What
will he say when he sees this?" James made a vague, angry gesture
at the magazine. "I'm doomed."

"I'll hire you," Christian offered.

"Don't fucking joke around."

"I'm serious," Christian said, causing James to look at him.
"Look, I'm a bastard. You have no reason to believe me. But I'd
like to have a chance at getting this right, you know? And I never
wanted to do things right until now. With you."

"When did this bright idea strike?" James didn't know what else to
say.

"I don't know. Probably a while now. But when you said that you
wanted to leave, I wanted to blow up my yacht. I love my yacht,
but I'd blow it up just so that I can say there's no way you can
leave and you'll have to be stuck with me a little longer."

"You just want the sex."

"I can get sex anywhere and anytime."

"True. You arrogant prick, but true," James conceded. "But I'm not
sure - "

Christian got onto one knee, he really did. "I'm not asking for
anything more than a chance for me to, you know, see, date, and
maybe fuck you after we leave this place. I won't say I won't hurt
you, but I'll try not to. Come on, you know me better than anyone
already, LeGros. Please?

James hesitated. This was too risky, and he would be hurt. "We'll
take it slow," he said. "As slow as we can be," he amended. "Maybe
we should stop having sex and try dating for a while."

"I want sex!" Christian interjected. "You can't stop me from
trying to seduce you anyway."

"True," James conceded.

Christian took James' hands in his in a rare moment of
vulnerability. "I swear I will try to make myself worth your time,
LeGros."

Touched, James clasped tight. "And I'll try just as well," he
said.

Christian got onto his feet and bent over for a kiss.




SIX

Christian pushed open the ornate doors leading to his
grandmother's personal chambers. "Belle, you old bitch!" he
yelled. "I'm here. Come and get me!"

"Rude as ever," Belle, eighty-four but who was counting, said,
looking up from her reading. She put aside her book - actually, it
was the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly carefully hidden
between the pages of the family Bible. She wanted people to
remember her as a dignified lady when she died. "Come on and sit
down, you son of a bitch."

"Okay, I'm here. Shoot."

"What's this about you suing some seedy adult gay magazine?" Belle
asked.

"They took pictures of me and someone having sex and I want them
to pay for it."

"It's not the first time. If I'm not mistaken, eight months ago
the same thing happened when they took pictures of you and that
Italian model and you told me you liked the `exposure'," Belle
said. She snorted.

"Well, this time it's different. It's personal, and private
between me and LeGros. It's not just sex anymore, ma'am."
Christian saw Belle's face and cursed. "Damn it, old bitch, you
wanted this to happen! You set me up!"

"LeGros doesn't know anything, so don't take it out on him," Belle
warned the man, not even bothering to deny the accusation. "I
always thought LeGros was a sensible man, and he needed someone to
loosen him up. And I still have it, don't I? I knew." Belle
chuckled. "So sit down and tell me how it is between you both."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"He still making you dance through hoops?"

"Not that it's your business, but he is finally thinking of moving
in with me," Christian said, unable to disguise the triumph in his
voice.

"After two months. You're losing your touch."

"And I refused to be baited by you any longer."

"Still you came here anyway," Belle said. "You want something.
What is it?"

Christian hesitated. Still, he was desperate. "I want to know how
to be responsible, Belle. LeGros likes people with steady jobs and
steady nature, and I want to be the type of man he won't wake up
one day and decide he's making a mistake with."

Belle studied her grandson shrewdly. She wasn't fond of Christian,
but she had to admit, he was the most interesting of the Bales.
"Well, I'm going to retire from the board," she said, deliberately
ignoring Christian's muttered `about time'. "And about that hotel
on Gull Island."

Christian's mouth fell open. "You're giving it to me?"

"No. I'm old but I'm not senile!" Belle snapped. "I'm just
suggesting that if I nominate you to replace me on the board, you
can make that man of yours proud by being responsible. An alien
concept for you, I know, but I know you're a good and fast
learner."

"I hate you." Christian smiled. "Thanks. I won't let you down."

"I won't be here any longer, and I don't care, to be honest. You
should care what LeGros think, if he's that important to you."

"He is," Christian said mulishly.

"Good. Now thank me for setting you both up."

Christian snorted and walked out of the room. But he hesitated at
the doorway, nonetheless. And Belle smiled to herself when he
forced out a reluctant `Thanks' before storming out of the room.

One down, she decided. Two more to go. Now, about that stubborn
granddaughter of hers, Milicent...
