Damien did not do waiting quietly and patiently. He'd already ended up in the corner twice since breakfast, and judging from Miles' expression, was heading for a third. Really, how long did it take to pack for a week, he thought to himself as he bounced on the end of the bed. He stopped bouncing long enough to sneak a peek into Miles' suitcase and he could not help the outraged squeak that escaped.
"Miles, you are NOT taking that." Damien picked up the paddle and waved it in Miles direction. "This is supposed to be a vacation, and you can't paddle me on vacation. I'm sure there is a rule about it somewhere."
Miles turned a stern eye on his young lover. They had been together for several months now and he had learnt fast and well how to manage a firebrand like Damien.
“Of course I am taking the paddle and of course I can paddle you even on vacation. THAT is the rule, my lad! Trust me.”
Damien huffed. He put as much nuance in his huffs as Russell did his sniffs. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but it seems grossly unfair to bring that evil thing with us."
“Well, I am hoping we won’t have to retrieve the ‘evil’ thing from the luggage either, but if this morning’s demonstration is anything to go by, I don’t hold out much hope. Now Damien,” Miles turned to him, suddenly serious. “Listen to me, honey. I want us to have a lovely vacation together, enjoying the sun and the sand. I don’t want anything to spoil the holiday, so are you going to try to be good and behave?”
Damien rolled his eyes. "Of course, I'll try." Damien emphasised the 'try'. "Honestly Miles, you'd think I spend my free time thinking of ways to cause trouble and give you grey hairs. I don't."
Miles stopped himself from snorting and said instead, “That’s all I am asking.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on Damien’s forehead. “And remember - don’t let Russell drag you into anything I wouldn’t like. I am still wondering if Simon and I made the right decision to holiday together. Having you both together for a whole week ...”
Damien huffed again. "Give me a little credit, Miles. I'm not a follower. If anything, I drag Russell into trouble." Damien blinked as he realised what he'd said. "Wait, strike that. What I meant is that of course I won't do anything that would be embarrassing to you. You've made it very clear to me in the past how much you hate that."
Miles raised his eyebrows at Damien. “I know exactly what you meant, young man. Let me also make it clear right now that any show of tantrum, temper and or rudeness will be severely dealt with. I do not like to be embarrassed, as you say, and I particularly do not want to be embarrassed in a foreign country.”
Damien smiled sweetly. "In that case, you better lose the paddle, Miles. Though it would be rather entertaining to hear you try and explain it when we go through customs."
Realising Damien had a point, Miles swiftly removed the paddle and promptly replaced it with a good solid English made hairbrush. “Thank you Damien, I think this will work quite as well.”
Damien responded with another huff and Miles frowned at him.
“You don’t want to say or do anything right now that will land you in any more trouble, Damien. You have used up all your freebies and the next thing for you will be a trip over my lap.”
Damien returned Miles' frown. "I haven't done a bloody thing, well not really. I can't help it if I'm excited and impatient."
“No, you can’t.” Miles said, with unexpected gentleness and sympathy, as his eyes softened. “And I do like to see you so happy and excited.” He pulled Damien into his arms and they kissed slowly, their tongues meeting. They broke apart and Miles bent to whisper one word softly into Damien’s ear.


Russell’s famous pout was prominently on display. He said haughtily, “I have no intention of spoiling our holiday and I take offence that you would even think it. I am deeply wounded, Simon.”
Simon ruffled Russell's hair and smiled. "No, you're not Russell. And fore warned is fore armed as they say. Now that you know I won't tolerate any shenanigans, you are more likely to behave yourself."
“I can be good when I want to!” Russell said with a disdainful sniff. “I’m not barbaric, like Damien. He is the one you should be worried about! He throws things at waiters – not me. He sprouts rude remarks at ladies – not me!”
Simon nodded in agreement. "Yes, Damien is quite the handful. But, as I have repeated often enough, Damien is Miles' problem. Damien can run naked down the street with a tea cosy on his head for all I care. You do the same, and you will not sit comfortably. Are we clear on this?"
Russell folded his arms across his chest in dignified silence, refusing to answer.
Simon shook his head. "Very well, sit there quietly then and pout until I return. I have a few more things to gather."
The minute Simon left the room, Russell tip-toed over to the semi-packed luggage and began to ruffle through the layers. Where is that darn thing, he wondered to himself. His skilful fingers touched smooth wood and he carefully slid the solid hairbrush out. Ha! He had known Simon would not pack the paddle – they would be going through customs and it would be quite embarrassing if they saw the paddle illuminated in the x-ray. But a solid hairbrush would not warrant any excitement.
Quietly, he hid the big hairbrush in the cupboard and replaced it with a much smaller, lighter one. There, Russell smirked to himself; let’s see what Simon can do with that baby!
Simon, however, knew his Brat. He knew that Russell would rummage through the suitcases the instant he'd left the room. He found it all rather amusing, but he hid it behind a semi-stern expression. "I know you found the hairbrush Russell,” he said when he came back into the room. “I would suggest you return it. Now. Or I will bring the bath brush."
Russell tottered on the edge for a long moment, and then gave in. With slumped shoulders, he handed the large hairbrush to his strict partner.
Simon smiled and returned the hairbrush to its proper place. "I think that's everything. Anything we forget we can pick up later. We are not missing that flight."


By some miracle, intervention from the travel gods perhaps, the two couples made it to the airport on time, checked in and boarded. Damien and Russell wanted to sit together, of course, but the very thought sent icicles down Simon's spine. It was a long, Trans-Atlantic flight. If their luck held, they were scheduled to land at around 5:56 pm local time. Unfortunately their bodies would still be operating on British time, which would be 11:56 pm. So they would be dealing with two cranky, jet-lagged brats. Which would mean a quick dinner, then perhaps an early night for all, which was going to go down like a lead balloon.
Simon cornered Miles alone, as they waited to change planes in Miami. "I think it would be a good idea to call it a night as soon as we've checked in and gotten something to eat. I am, of course, expecting that this decision will be met with strong opposition. I need to know if you agree with this or not, so we can present a united front."
Miles nodded affirmatively. “I think that’s a good plan. We were up pretty late last night and Damien’s been hyper the last couple of days so an early night would be the perfect thing.”
Damien noticed the two Tops conversing quietly together and punched Russell softly in the arm."Look over there. I think they're plotting something, probably something we won't like, since they're whispering."
Russell narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I’ll bet they are too! But nothing is going to spoil my mood. I am SO looking forward to this week. Hey, did you manage to check out the website? I thought the name INNdulge a bit stupid – who would name a resort INNdulge?”
Damien shrugged. "A Yank? I've been so keyed up for the past few days, I've driven Miles bonkers. I've been straddling the 'getting my botty warmed' line. This is gonna be abfab."
“I’ve had a few run-ins with Simon as well,” Russell said with a giggle. “Anyway, the amenities look pretty cool, don’t you think? They have happy hours every day at the pool-side and that’s when everyone goes out to mingle and get to know one another. I wonder if the resort will be crowded this time of year.”
Damien yawned, and did his best to hide it. "I doubt it, not really the traditional Yank vacation time, not that dad's gonna be bringing the kiddies."
Russell and Damien laughed noisily, nudging one another playfully. Russell rubbed his hands together.
“I am planning on getting a tan for sure! I bought myself the skimpiest swimming suit – Simon hasn’t seen it yet!” Russell chuckled gleefully. He couldn’t wait to see Simon’s reaction.
Damien gave Russell a smug look. "I went online and bought a thong from International Male. It's pretty sheer, but the pool area is clothing optional anyway. In fact, I think the whole resort is clothing optional, though I imagine I'll dress for dinner."
“Oh yes – I read that too, but NOT the whole resort, idiot! Can you imagine checking in while naked men sit around or walk by? But pretty much every where else I think. Imagine a 24-hour erotic movie lounge! “Russell rolled his eyes expressively.
Damien yawned once more. "I've been imagining it." Then they both laughed again, obviously excited and full of anticipation.
Simon pointed over to the two brats. "I've seen Damien yawn twice, Miles, though he will deny it to his death. He looks totally knackered, and so does Russell.”
“Yeah, I saw that too!”
“Shouldn't be any problem keeping them in for the night." Simon caught Miles looking at him strangely. 'Yes, yes, I know, I've no idea what I was thinking when I said that. I plead fatigue!”
“Our Brats may not be the only ones needing an early night!” Miles grinned at his cousin. “Come on, they are calling our flight now. Damien! Russ! We’re boarding. Get your bags – let’s go!”


Finally - Key West. It was the first visit to the US for Damien and Miles and they looked about with deep interest, drinking in the sights. The sun, after the dreary weather in Britain, was a much welcome change.
All four of them held their breaths a little as the air-conditioned van - their airport transfer - turned into the courtyard of the resort they had chosen. It was a small but elegant gay resort, which had come highly recommended by some friends. Simon and Miles had liked the exclusiveness of the resort, the facilities provided and also the personal attention of the owners as experienced by the friends who had been there. Russell and Damien had liked the ‘forever optional clothing’ policy.
Once deposited by the van, Simon and Miles went towards the check in counter while Russell and Damien dropped their hand luggage and immediately started to explore. Registration was quick and painless, attended by an extremely friendly and efficient staff.
Both Brats came back to their Tops, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
“This place is great!” Russell said enthusiastically.
Simon had to laugh at Russell's exuberance. "Well, you know how difficult and anal Vincent can be, and he raved about this place."
"It's brilliant." Damien said. "Bring on the naked men."
“I’m glad it meets your approval,” Miles teased, giving Damien a quick squeeze. “Now, let’s see what our rooms are like.”
They had opted for a 2-bedroom suite instead of two superior rooms, preferring to have the additional space of a living area and kitchenette. A very chatty (and cute) young man led them to their suite, pointing out the resort’s amenities and attractions along the way. All rooms and suites opened out to the central courtyard where the pool was located, surrounded by spacious grounds with stately palms.
"This is quite nice." Simon commented, looking around, checking out everything. "Do you have a preference in rooms, Miles? They look to be identical."
“No, your choice, Simon.” Miles looked at Damien. “Unless you have a preference?”
Damien could care less about choosing a room and unpacking; that was a job for Tops. He was more interested, much more interested, in checking out the pool area. He shook his head at Miles and caught Russell’s eye.
“I think I am up for a swim,” announced Russell as Miles and Simon began sorting out their rooms and luggage.
“Damien,” Miles called out before Damien could respond to Russell. “Come here please. I would like us to get unpacked before we do anything else.”
Damien folded his arms. "Why do you need me? You did all the packing, why can't you do the unpacking?" He hated the whine in his voice, but he couldn't help it. "Russell and I want to check out the pool."
Simon answered. "And Miles and I would like the two of you to help unpack, so you will know where to find everything."
“But the pool is just out there!” Russell exclaimed, pointing out the window where the shimmering water beckoned.
Simon gave Russell The Look. "My eyes function perfectly well, Russell, I can see the pool. It isn't going anywhere in the next ten minutes."
"Miles..." Damien made a last appeal to his Top.
“The pool is open twenty four hours, honey. And we have a whole week. Plenty of time, don’t you think?” Miles asked pointedly.
Damien huffed. "I've been cooped up on a bloody plane for hours and I need to DO something. NOW."
Miles took a firm hold of Damien’s shoulders and pushed him into their room. “All righty then, you can DO something right now by opening the bags and unpacking!” That was accompanied by a friendly but firm pat on the seat of his pants.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Damien muttered.
Simon snapped his fingers. "Come along, Russell. We don't want to start the vacation with you in the corner. This won't take long." Simon knew Russell was keyed up, and so he was willing to be a little more patient than usual, but not much.
Russell didn’t always pick his battles wisely but he did this time. Damien had disappeared and there was not much point in pushing Simon’s buttons this early in the vacation. He had no wish to stare at the wall when there was so much happening around him.
“I’m hungry!” Russell announced, looking around for the room service menu. “Let’s order something in while we unpack. I hardly had anything on the plane!”
Simon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You wanted to try the vegetarian option, Russell, which you said was better than expected."
“But I am still hungry!” he insisted. “Let me show Damien this ...”
Simon pointed to the suitcases. "First we unpack and get everything sorted out. Damien isn't going anywhere, it can wait."
“But ...”
"It can wait. Have I made myself clear?" Simon started removing items from his bag.
Russell reluctantly threw the menu down and picked up his bag. “You call this a vacation?”
Simon turned around and gave Russell his complete attention. "Yes, I call this a vacation. And I call that a corner. Would you care to have a closer look at it?"
He stopped, looking at Simon with large eyes. He shook his head slowly, and mumbled, "No sire, uhm sir."
Simon quirked a brow, but decided to let the comment pass.

... Meanwhile in the other room-...

Miles snapped the locks shut on the two pieces of luggage with satisfaction and grabbed his Brat. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Now come here!”
Damien perked up a bit. "Pool?"
“Hmm ... I may have other ideas.” Miles hands slid down to Damien’s butt and squeezed.
Damien grinned. "I guess the pool can wait."
“Shut the door then!” Miles ordered.
Simon and Russell had got everything sorted and put away, and Simon was going to check with Miles, when he saw the door close. He shook his head bemusedly. "I think Miles and Damien want a little privacy right now, Russell. Would you like to check out the pool or order in?"
Russell set his mind to some quick thinking and announced brightly, “Let’s go to the pool and order some food. We can eat at the poolside, while we soak up some sun. You are much too pale, Simon.”
Simon looked at his exposed areas of skin. 'I suppose I am. We're English, Russell, we have rain tans."
“Let me just tell Damien where we’re headed. He’s dying to get into the pool too. I can’t imagine why they would want to be cooped up ...”
Simon raised his left eyebrow. "If you stop and think for a moment, it should come to you."
Russell rolled his eyes in disgust. “Geez, can’t they wait?”
Simon laughed. 'Apparently not. Shall we grab our swimming togs then?"
The two males quickly changed. Simon wanted to see the lay of the land, so to speak, before daring to go the Full Monty. He whistled appreciatively at Russell's suit. "Very nice. Shall we?"
Russell twirled around with a flourish, and then followed Simon out, swaggering outrageously in his daring little white trunks. He looked very sexy and he knew it.
The patio door led directly out to the poolside, where a decent-sized crowd was already gathered. The pool bar was buzzing with activity, and every bar stool was occupied. Simon and Russell looked around and slowly headed towards a row of deck chairs on the other end of the pool which were still unoccupied. There were a lot of friendly looks and smiles as they made their way over.
“Let’s see what else is happening today ... I think they’ll be having happy hours soon ... “ Russell consulted the brochure in his hands and read out loud. “Yep, happy hours is from five to seven!”
Simon knew the pool area was clothing optional, yet it was still somewhat of a shock to see so much naked, tanned, oiled, muscular flesh parading about. When they arrived at their location, Simon applied sunscreen to Russell's skin, and then Russell returned the favour.
"Would you be so kind as to grab a gin and tonic for me Russ?"
Russell obligingly trotted over to the bar, eager to mingle.
At the far end of the pool, a man perhaps a few years younger than Simon, was holding court. He was, in a word, gorgeous. Tanned, very fit, with medium length dark brown hair. He caught Simon's eye and gave him a wink and a smile. He had deep dimples, Simon noted, and the Devil's own smile. The man extricated himself from his ring of admirers, and headed over towards Simon. He grabbed a towel, dried off, and then dropped the towel onto a nearby chair.
"Hello." The man had a very soft French accent. "You are new, non?" he held out a hand. "I'm Dr. Remy Benoit."
"Simon Beckett." It seemed a little surreal to Simon. Here he was, standing there by a hotel pool, exchanging polite social pleasantries with a man who was naked and completely at ease about it.
As Simon shook the proffered hand, Russell appeared with their drinks. "This is my partner, Russell Dawes." Simon held out his hand for the gin and tonic. "Ta very much."
Russell blinked, the two glasses still in his hands. He stopped a few paces away and let his gaze travel haughtily down the stranger’s body, stopping pointedly at his crotch. An eyebrow rose.
Remy responded by letting his eyes roam down Russell's form and raising his left eyebrow. He smiled at Russell. "I like your suit. Très beau. You are both English, non? My partner, Gene, is American. He is not here." Remy's smile grew wider, and his hazel eyes glinted with mischief. "But I left him a message."
Simon clucked his tongue. "That was rather naughty of you. Yes, we are both British, hence the pale skins and copious amounts of sunscreen."
Russell handed Simon his drink and sipped his own. He was disinclined to respond to Remy.
Russell's reaction did not escape Remy's attention. He smiled as he indulged in a long, luxurious stretch. "It was also not so nice for my partner to go off to New York and not invite me along, non? I think so." Remy shrugged. "So I have my revenge, and I come here to flirt with all the pretty boys." He gifted them both with another of his devilish grins.
Simon took a sip of his drink, then a second sip. "Yes, well you are French."
"Oui." Remy responded and laughed.
Russell’s hackles began to rise as he heard the exchanges. He tapped one foot dangerously.
Simon set his drink down on the table beside the deck chair, then reached out and snagged Russell with his left arm. He pulled Russell down onto his lap, causing him to spill a bit of his drink, and nuzzled his neck. "Jealous?" he whispered.
Russell tossed his head theatrically, snootily disregarding Simon’s whisper. “I wonder what Damien and Miles are doing. They should come out and mingle, don’t you think?” His question immediately excluded Remy from the conversation.
Simon exchanged a slightly apologetic look with Remy, who seemed more amused than offended by Russell's dismissal. "Well, I expect they need to shower before they join us, and argue about whether Damien will or will not be wearing a suit."
Beyond a snort, Russell didn’t say a word.
"Russell?" Remy placed his hand over his heart. "Je suis vraiment désolé. I am very sorry if I've upset you. Just for you, I will put a towel on." Remy picked up his discarded towel and wrapped it around his waist.
Russell cast another disdainful look southwards and deigned to say, “Suit yourself, but don’t do it on my account. It does not bother me in the least.”
" Vraiment? I think it does bother you. Or are you angry with me? You certainly sound cross." Remy shook his head bemusedly. "I would not think we have known one another long enough for you to dislike me, perhaps I am wrong, n'cest ce pas?" Remy sat down next to Simon and Russell.
Simon thought Russell was being rather rude, but Remy seemed able to handle it, so he remained quiet. Instead, he tightened his arms around his brat and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

... back in the suite....

It had been quick sex, but satisfying, and after a jump into the shower, Damien was ready to check out the pool. The privacy curtains were pulled back and he could see Simon and Russell and a naked stranger. A gorgeous naked stranger.
"Miles!' he hollered towards the bath.”You need to see this!”
Miles emerged naked from the bathroom, towel in hand. “What?”
“I think Simon is flirting!"
“And how on earth do you work that out, all the way from here?”
Damien rolled his eyes. "I have radar for this sort of thing. The man is gorgeous, he's starkers, and Simon's sitting there talking to him, like nothing's out of the ordinary."
Miles peered into the distance and saw the evidence. “You are right too, Damien. The man IS naked as you say and flaunting it rather shamelessly.” Miles laughed. “Right in front of Simon, no less.”
Damien nodded. "He probably wanted a closer look at the new boys."
“Well, I don’t see Simon being bothered in the least. In fact, he looks rather relaxed – and amused! Russ seems to be cross though. But that is no guide to go by; Russ gets cross over all manner of things.”
"Bollocks." Damien said. "He's wrapping a towel around his waist. Maybe Simon said something?"
“You are a nosy-body, you know that Damien? I just need to dry my hair, and then we can go out. Did you bring anything to wear? Don’t tell me you are going out au naturel?”
Damien made an exasperated sound that was half huff and half sigh. "The resort IS clothing optional, Miles."
“This resort may be clothing optional, but you will not - NOT, I repeat – parade around showing off your jewels for all the world to see until I have had a chance to see what’s available.”
Damien made a further exasperated sound. "What do you mean until you've had a chance to see what's available? Are you being a prude or are you afraid I won't pass muster?"
“I am not a prude and of course I am not afraid of you not measuring up! How silly can you be? But you should know me by now; I need to get comfortable with the idea of you – or us! – walking out without clothes before we actually DO IT. So just humour me, ok?”
"Bloody bossy Top." Damien muttered. "Yes, your Toppiness, I brought a suit with me." Actually Damien had brought two, the thong and one with a bit more coverage. But he wasn't divulging that bit of information yet. He took the thong out of the drawer and waved it in front of Miles' nose. "See?"
Miles eyed the slip of material with disfavour, but he bit back his protest (well, yes, he supposed he was rather prudish but there was no way he would acknowledge that to his very vocal and very blunt partner) and instead said with a sigh, “Very nice!”
Damien, however, took a second look at the thong he was holding. Then he looked out at the pool, then back at the thong. As much as he hated admitting it, maybe Miles was right. Without a word, he put the thong back and grabbed his substitute, which was still daring, but a bit more conservative.
“You're such a wuss, Damien.” he muttered to himself. He put the suit on, and then on impulse he gave Miles a quick hug. "Ready?"
“Yes, honey,” Miles said, with a quick nod of approval and rewarding his Brat with a fiercely possessive kiss.

... back at the poolside ...

Simon reached over to the side table and retrieved his gin and tonic. "You said you were a doctor?"
"Oui." Remy smiled. "Infectious diseases. I've been working for Médecins Sans Frontières - Doctors without Borders, in the Somali region of Ethiopia. It is where I met my partner, Gene. I was shot." Remy fingered a scar on his left side. "And he took care of me." He smiled again. "Cupid's arrow was a bullet this time. Love is strange, non?"
Simon nodded. "Sometimes."
Russell looked interested despite himself. “You were shot?”
"Oui. I was working in a refugee camp very close to the Somali border. Bullets, mon ami, do not recognise borders."
Russell could not imagine how it would have felt, being shot. He felt a reluctant respect for Remy and tried to sound half-way friendly. “What made you volunteer as a doctor in such a turbulent place?”
Simon was relieved that Russell seemed to be emerging from his sulk.
Remy laughed. "You sound like my parents. My father is a country doctor. My elder brother works with him." Remy became a bit more serious. "I went where I was most needed - where there is war, famine, great suffering, little hope and less medicine. You accept that the government will make things very hard, if not impossible, and there is the possibility you may be injured or worse." He shrugged. "C'est le guerre. Such is war."
Russell stared at Remy, suddenly tongue-tied. His life was centred on fabrics and designs, from couture houses to fashion shows. What did he know about war and suffering and death? He glanced at Simon, who cleared his throat.
"I sell rare books, and while it could be called a cut throat business at times, no one has resorted to violence. Well, maybe Ivan, but he's Russian."
Remy chuckled. "Pardon moi. I am being much too serious for such a beautiful day, I don't want to be, how do you say it, a wet towel?"
"Wet blanket," Simon corrected.
Remy smiled. "Merci." He spotted a couple of rather pale males headed their way. "Attend. I think your friends have come out into the sun."
With a sigh of relief, Russell spotted Damien and Miles as they made their way over. “Finally!” he said.
Damien, with Miles in tow, looked around him with open interest as they walked up to join the group. He exchanged a quick look with Russell, and turned to Remy. "Damien Frazer and this is my partner Miles Richards."
Remy smiled and shook Damien's hand. "Dr. Remy Benoit. I see you decided to wear a suit." Remy held out his hand to Miles.
Damien shot Simon and Russell a look. "Sounds like someone's been talking about me."
Russell rolled his eyes. “No one has been talking about you, Damien. Remy has been telling us his adventures as a doctor ... um, what did you call yourself? Doctor without Orders?” His eyes gleamed mischievously.
Remy burst out laughing. "That is what Gene would say if he were here. I've never been very good at taking orders. When I was recovering from my bullet wound, he threatened to put me in restraints, because I would not stay in bed." Remy's eyes gleamed with a mischievous light of their own. "I was a bit disappointed that he did not."
Simon chuckled, as Damien reached for the sunscreen. "I've occasionally considered using them myself."
“So are you here alone then?” Miles inquired politely. He began to rub sunscreen on Damien’s back.
"Oui, at present. Gene will join me or not. Je ne sais pas. The symposium he was attending ended yesterday and he knows where I am." Remy didn't feel the need to add that Gene was probably furious with him. He stood up, not bothering to keep his towel in place. "Ravi d'avoir fait votre connaissance - Delighted to have met you and I am certain we will see one another again."
“It was nice meeting you,” Miles said, manners intact as always.
Simon threw caution to the wind and dusted off his French "À demain."
"À demain." With a jaunty wave, Remy headed to his room to shower.
Damien watched him leave. "Bloody hell. I thought Frenchmen were supposed to be ugly, and rude."
"There's always exceptions." Simon finished his drink. 'What do you say we grab an hour of sun, and then order in?"
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Miles said as he finished his task and settled back on a deck chair. “Damien honey, if you are going to the bar, will you get me a Cuba Libre?"
Damien raised an eyebrow. "What, not a gin and tonic?"
Miles shrugged and smiled disarmingly. "I thought I'd live dangerously!"
“I need a refill, I’ll come with you.” Russell got up and stretched, then leaned down and kissed Simon on the lips. “Wow, doesn’t it feel great to be able to do that in such a public place?”
Simon pulled Russell in for a second, longer kiss. "If Grandfather George wasn't already deceased, seeing such displays of public affection between anyone, let alone two men, would have killed him. He was scandalised by men and women holding hands in Hyde Park." He gave Russell a pat on the thigh "Bring me another gin and tonic, would you?"

... meanwhile.....

Remy was indulging himself with a hot steamy shower, when he thought he heard the door to his suite open. He frowned and turned off the water, reached out for a towel and yelped as a dark muscular hand grabbed his wrist.
"You, mon amour," a honeyed baritone voice said, "are in serious trouble."
Remy's face lit up. "Gene. Mon couer, mon amour, ma vie." He would have continued, but Gene landed a heavy swat on his wet and unprotected left thigh. "Ai. Merde."
Gene sat down on the toilet seat and pulled Remy towards him. "While I am happy that I am your heart, your love and your life, I am still angry with you." He draped Remy across his thighs.
"Pourquoi?" Remy yelped as Gene landed another of his solid swats.
"Why? Why do you think?" Gene paused, his palm lying heavily on Remy's ass.
"Je ne sais pas." Remy answered.
"Oh you know very well. You, mon amour, threw a fit because I didn't take you with me to New York." Gene made sure to get his point across, and Remy began to squirm a bit. "Even though I explained the reason why, and promised we'd take a trip together when I returned."
"Non. You said nothing about a trip. I am certain." Remy decided he'd had about enough, and was surprised when Gene allowed him to stand.
Gene smiled at the look of relief of Remy's face. "I'm not through yet. Bath brush, please." He snapped his fingers.
Remy could not believe this was happening, he thought Gene must be playing some sort of joke, at least until Gene smacked him with the bath brush. "Merde!"
"Uh huh." Gene gave Remy ten smacks then let him back up.
Remy was a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn't unbearable. He felt more embarrassed than anything. "I can't believe you hit me, Gene."
"I spanked you, Remy."
"La même chose." Remy headed towards the bedroom, dug out a pair of jersey boxer shorts and put them on.
"No, it's not the same thing." Gene walked over and wrapped his arms around Remy. "Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime aussi. But no more of this spanking. D'accord?"
"We'll see." He kissed Remy deeply and slipped his hand beneath the band of the boxer shorts, fingering the puckered bit of flesh located between Remy's butt cheeks. "I've missed you."
"Moi aussi." Remy answered and gasped as Gene's finger entered him. He cupped the bulge in Gene's khaki trousers and rubbed it gently. "Order in later?"
"Much later." Gene said as he pushed Remy onto the bed.


Breakfast was a leisurely affair at the resort and no one seemed inclined to get to it in a hurry. And should anyone miss breakfast totally, juice and snacks were available throughout the day – all one had to do was stroll into the restaurant and help himself. This was another very nice touch which had appealed to the two couples. It meant they were not on any kind of schedule and could linger as long as they liked in bed.
It was almost ten thirty by the time everyone got ready and sat down to breakfast.
"This is when people should have breakfast, around tennish." Damien commented as he helped himself to a croissant and juice. "There's no need to be up at the crack of dawn." He looked over at Miles.
Miles smiled. It was an on-going discussion between them and he said tolerantly, “There is no need whatsoever as you say – when we are on holiday. Back at the farm though, it’s another matter totally. But we shall not spoil our holiday by having this discussion, hmm Damien? Much too objectionable, I am sure.”
Damien snorted. "Far be it from me to be objectionable. I am the very model of acquiescence."
Simon sipped his coffee, which was excellent. "If Russ had his way, we wouldn't rise until noon at the earliest. Except when on vacation, of course."
Russell reached for his third slice of ham. “Oh yes! I think ...Oh shit!” he muttered under his breath.
The other three men glanced at the direction of his eyes.
Simon frowned at Russell. "Really Russell, I don't understand where this attitude comes from, I thought Remy was very nice."
Russell snorted quietly.
"I hope that's his partner with him." was Damien's only comment.
Remy, fighting a yawn attack, his arm wrapped around Gene, spotted them and walked over. "Bon matin, mes amis. I would like to introduce my partner Dr. Gene Lorren. Gene, this is Simon, Russell, Miles and Damien. They're British."
Gene shook everyone's hand. "Are we too late for anything other than fruit and pastry?"
Simon shook his head. "I think you made it just in time."
Miles nudged Russell, who was on his right, to make space. “Come and join us if you want company,” Miles invited cordially. “We have just sat down ourselves.”
Russell groaned.
Simon cleared his throat and Russell looked quickly over at him, familiar with all of Simon’s noises. Simon shook his head slightly and Russell stuck his lip out. He didn’t say anything more but Simon continued to keep a watchful eye on him, ready to step in with another meaningful look if necessary.
Damien tried to make sense of what was going on with Russell, decided it made no sense, and so he put it out of his mind and added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his coffee.
Remy smiled. "Merci, but we are grabbing something to go. I am dragging Gene to the pirate museum on Front Street."
Gene rolled his eyes in response. "See what I have to put up with? Pirates. Perhaps we could get together later if you want. No pressure."
“Must we?” Russell muttered under his breath and Simon gave him a warning kick under the table.
“We’ll be here for a week,” Miles answered calmly. “So yes, it would be nice to get together one evening, maybe even go out for dinner? I hear they have some good bars and restaurants around this vicinity.”
"Oui. Gene and I stay away from the more touristy sorts of places. Our favourite restaurant is the Hogfish Bar and Grille on Stock Island - it is a favourite with locals, very unpretentious. Very old Key West."
"Remy likes the Rum Barrel as well, which is conveniently located next to the Pirate Museum." Gene gave Remy a playful dig in the ribs. "He hasn't tried all the varieties of rum there yet."
Remy laughed. "Maybe we shall see you later, non? Happy hour?"
Simon nodded "It's highly likely."


“I want to check out the movie lounge,” Russell announced as soon as breakfast was over. “Damien, you coming?” He was still cross with Simon and wanted to get away for a while. He knew Simon loved him and vice versa and he had come to believe Simon wouldn’t stray from him. But there were no guarantees in life after all, and Simon had seemed to rather enjoy Remy’s presence the day before.
Damien was contemplating the swirls his spoon was making in his coffee. “Is this the 24-hour erotic movies lounge?”
Simon finished the last of his second cup of coffee. "I haven't checked anything out yet, Russell, but I have no serious objections provided Damien goes with you."
Russell scowled.
Simon frowned back at him. "I think that it would be best not to go off alone until we've settled in a bit and gotten a feel for this place. You can either agree or go back to our suite. Your choice."
Damien stood up before Russell could dig himself into a hole, and motioned to him. "Come on, Russ, let's go."
Miles stretched and yawned. “You run along then; I plan to sit by the pool and do absolutely nothing. Well, perhaps read a magazine.”
"That sounds like a perfectly marvellous plan." Simon agreed, his eye still on his volatile partner.
Russell was aware of the piercing glance and decided not to push. He didn’t like Simon’s look at all. Walking briskly off, he found the lounge without any trouble. Curiously enough, there weren't any other guests in evidence.
"This is very cosy and homey for a porno lounge," Damien commented as he took in the comfortable overstuffed chairs and loveseats.
“Isn’t it just? Do people actually do it right here? My God, look at that!” Russell nodded to the big screen where a threesome was taking place, while a fourth man stood by jerking off.
Damien wrinkled his nose. "It looks rather uncomfortable, at least for the bloke in the middle. That big hairy apeman is shoving his cock down the bloke's throat. If it were me, I'd bite him.” He looked around. “We seem to be the only ones here."
“Well, it’s a bit early don’t you think?” Russell turned as he heard the door opening.
A pale young man, with a mass of unkempt blonde hair and indecently low riding jeans entered, glanced at them, and then dropped heavily into one of the chairs. He was small and on the skinny side, with pierced nipples and a bellybutton ring. He looked familiar, but Damien could not place him. Damien's curious looks did not escape the young man's attention.
"Do you need something?" He asked and took a sip from his bottle of orange juice.
Damien blushed slightly. "No. It's just that your face seems familiar."
With a put upon sigh the young man stood and dropped his jeans. In addition to having a tattooed penis, he had a scrotal piercing and a Prince Albert. "It's kinda weird you would remember my face. Most guys never remember my face, just my cock. You can't really see the detail except when I'm erect. Wanna see?"
Russell said rather quickly, “No - thank you!”
Damien blushed a deeper shade of red. "Uhm, no. I've seen it. I saw ‘Goldietwink and the Three Bears’ at a friend's party." He studied the patterns in the carpet. It seemed the safest thing to do at the moment, he couldn't look at the Twink and he couldn't look at Russell.
Russell was about to ask for more details about Goldietwink when he saw the door open and Simon peep in. Slightly panicked, he cleared his throat loudly.
Damien looked up from the rug, saw Simon standing there and froze. "Put it away." he whispered.
"Whatever." The young man pulled his jeans back up and flopped once more into the chair. "Goldietwink and the Three Bears" - Now there was a piece of crap. Actually, most of them have been crap." He laughed. "I'm Max or as Remy calls me - le petit diable - the little devil."
"Some people," Damien looked pointedly at Simon. "Call me the Anti-Christ."
"Cool." Max said. "We should hang then. The Devil and the Anti-Christ."
"I think not." Simon said. "Damien? Russell?" He snapped his fingers.
Max raised an eyebrow. "My, aren't we butch. You ever let the boys off the leash?"
Simon did not deign to answer.
The door opened again and a burly man came in, peering around. He caught sight of Max and hailed him. “Are you hiding from me, my sexy pet?” He grinned affably at the assembled group. “Do you know who he is? Did you guys see him in "Think Twink"? He was just great, the way he gave head in the pool. “He guffawed as he dropped down beside Max and put a large paw over Max’s thigh. Max rolled his eyes, but didn't remove the bear's paw.
The bear gave Max’s thigh a suggestive squeeze and continued. “Stick around; you might get a live performance after all! Or better still come by for tonight’s party. It’s gonna be wild! I understand it's open to all guests. The Director of Max’s last movie is here and he wants to do a photo shoot - a rare chance for a live demo ...” He winked at the assembled group.
Damien, who had seen quite a few of Max's movies, was torn between finding the idea of a live sex show exciting, wild and kind of kinky, and wondering if he was ready for that sort of thing. He was relieved to have Simon make the decision for him, not that he was going to admit that, especially with Russell standing there.
Simon decided they had heard enough and snapped his fingers once more; Russell silently followed Simon out and Damien brought up the rear.
"That was rather disturbing, but I guess that sort of thing goes on." Simon shook his head. "It is a porno lounge after all. This is exactly why the two of you don't need to go roaming about until Miles and I have checked things over."
“What? He was just showing us his ... um, tool of trade!” Russell said with a giggle. “He offered to show us the whole nine yards,” another louder giggle shook Russell, “but we declined!”
Damien giggled as well. 'I've seen it, and it's pretty impressive. The tattoo is done to look like barbed wire. It must have hurt like bloody hell when he had it done. I don't even want to think about the Prince Albert."
Simon nodded in agreement. "I think the lad probably enjoyed the pain aspect, he looks the sort."
“Did you hear what that guy said?” Russell asked a little breathlessly. He had never thought he would get the opportunity to witness a movie shoot, especially for a porno movie. “They are going to shoot porn tonight! Unbelievable!”
"I think they have done shoots here before." Damien responded. "And I think it's going to be more of a photo shoot, probably to help the director get funding for the film."
Simon shook his head. "You can remove the party from your social calendar, both of you. Max works in the sex film industry, and I'd hazard a guess he engages in all sorts of risky behaviours, not just piercing and tattoos. You don't need to be hanging out with his sort or anyone like him."
Damien stomped his foot and humphed at being treated like a schoolboy. He was twenty one for fuck's sake. "You're acting like a mother hen, Simon.”
Simon shrugged. "I've been called far worse. If acting like a mother hen keeps you and Russell safe, then I'll give a performance worthy of an Oscar."
Damien said, “We weren't doing anything harmful or bad - just a bit of show and tell. You shouldn't judge Max just because of what he does or looks like. He could be a perfectly nice bloke."
"The subject is not open for discussion." Simon stated firmly.
Russell grunted and said with heavy sarcasm. “Brilliant!”
Simon responded by giving Russell a heavy swat on the bum. "I'm not in the mood to tolerate sarcasm from you, Russell, if you cannot be civil, then be silent."
They were smartly marched along and found themselves back at the pool area where Miles lay under a palm tree. He looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Well?” He asked, seeing the two stormy faces.
"Well indeed." Simon answered. "I peeped in to find Russell and Damien ogling one gay porno star standing at half mast with his jeans pooled around his ankles. Then this other chap came in and invited us to stay for a free sex show. I declined for all of us and executed a strategic retreat."
Russell flopped onto a deck chair and glared. “And please don’t forget to mention about the photo shoot tonight, which we are NOT allowed to see just because of some old fashioned prejudices! Like we’ve never watched porn before! Simon, you treated us like we were little kids! It was embarrassing!”
"Bloody right." Damien crossed his arms and huffed. "Are you guys going to keep treating us like infants?’Cause if you are, then Russell and I might as well be on a leash."
“That’s quite enough from you Damien!” Miles sat up, a frown on his face. “You know better.” He quirked an eyebrow at his cousin. “Someone is shooting porn? Right here?”
Simon nodded. "In the porno lounge this evening. Starring the previously mentioned lad who was taking the tool of his trade out for show and tell." Simon quirked a brow back at Miles.
Damien huffed. "It's not like we are going to participate or do anything unseemly. We're just curious. What is the problem?"
Miles frowned deeper. “Damien, Simon’s word is final on this. No more arguments.”
Damien glared at Miles. "I get it. Top solidarity and all that rot. He's not being reasonable, Miles."
"I don't have to be reasonable, Damien." Simon stated calmly. "And I don't have to explain myself either. You and Russell have the option of continuing to be argumentative, but I don't advise you take it."
Miles nodded his agreement. “There is plenty to do around here, and plenty of people to meet, without going to the lounge which I am beginning to think isn’t quite the thing. In fact, I would prefer that to be off limits, unless either Simon or I are with you.”
Damien huffed, stomped his foot, then dropped heavily into the chair next to Russell. "That is so unfair." He huffed again.
"Unfair or not, I think that is a good idea Miles. The lounge is definitely off-limits unless Miles or I are with you. Are you clear on that Russell?" Simon waited for his brat to answer.
Since the photo shoot was to be held at the lounge, it meant the end of all hopes. Russell gritted his teeth and tried not to spit out his words. “Yes, loud and clear.”
"Good." Simon looked Russell in the eyes for a few seconds.
“And is that also clear to you, Damien?” Miles asked.
Damien glared at Miles and in a voice dripping with sarcasm said "Yes sir. Perfectly clear sir." Then he saluted.
That was quite enough provocation for Miles. He stood up and reached for Damien’s hand, tugging him up. “Come!”
Damien tried to pull his hand free, but Miles just tightened his grip. "Why? What did I do? Nothing, that's what. Not a bloody thing."
Miles ignored the protest and calmly but firmly led his Brat back to their suite.


Russell was seated next to Damien at the side of the pool, holding a margarita in one hand while his feet dangled in the water. His eyes were thoughtful as he surveyed the men.
Damien kicked at the water in a petulant fashion. "Russ, I don't care if Miles spanks me through the rest of our vacation, I'm going to that party. Are you in or not?"
Russell smirked. “Wasn’t Miles thorough enough earlier? You are sitting pretty comfortably, so apparently NOT!”
Damien blushed. "Fuck you Russ. Miles just gave me what he called ”a quick bum duster", then I had to stand in the corner for fifteen minutes. It was totally unfair for just a bit of snarkiness on my part." Damien kicked at the water again. "This may just be our only opportunity to see a porno shoot."
“You’ve got a point there. Its not every day one gets this sort of opportunity ... now, to take it or not to take it? Hmm ... what would any respectable Brat do?”
Damien shrugged. "Go to the party, have a bloody good time, and hope you get away with it."
Before Russell could respond, they heard a high-pitched shriek. Both brats turned their heads towards the sound of fake terror. The bear from the lounge was carrying a now nude Max over his shoulder. He tossed him unceremoniously into the pool, and then made his way to the bar. Max swam over to where Damien and Russell were sitting and climbed out next to them.
Russell looked back and saw with relief that Simon and Miles were both dozing on their deck chairs. “Hi,” he greeted Max, a little cautiously. Max seemed to bring with him a mixture of adventure and trouble.
Damien wished he could be as free and uninhibited as Max. "Hullo. You've lost your jeans."
Russell made a conscious effort not to look down in between Max’s thighs. He still had not completely got over his shyness about nudity in public. In fact, none of them had, for no one had suggested they go the Full Monty yet.
Max pushed his wet hair out of his eyes and grinned. "So, inquiring minds want to know - are you coming to my little gathering?"
Damien shrugged and also looked back towards Miles and Simon. "Maybe." he said keeping his voice low.
Russell licked his lips. “Well, to be honest our partners don’t think it’s such a great idea and we don’t want to upset them naturally. However ...”
"We think they're both being anal and totally unfair." Damien finished.
Max decided to tease them. "Would it help if I went over and promised the mother hens that I would return you drug and disease free?"
"Not really." Damien answered.
Russell was more forthright. “Absolutely not!” he said with horror. “They must not know we are even thinking this, much less planning how to go without them finding out.”
Damien nodded. "It won't be easy. I think Miles has super enhanced hearing and the ability to see in the dark."
Max laughed. “And that, my friends, is why I do not have a Top. All they do is kill your fun."
“I’m game if you are Damien!” Russell said, trying to sound valiant. It was not just the fact that he would be committing an act of deliberate disobedience; he couldn’t help but feel that he was heading way out of his depth. The same for Damien. Neither of them was as worldly-wise as they liked to pretend.
Damien rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. Let's do this then. What time?"
Max bit his lip in thought. 'Let's see. They have to set up lights and that shit, and it takes a while. I wouldn't show up any earlier than oneish."
“So you are saying if we can slip out by 1.00 am, we should be just in time? What exactly will you be doing, if I may ask? I mean, we are taking a huge risk doing this, and I want to make sure it’s worth our while.”
Damien nodded. 'Exactly."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Well, this one is going to be for Helix Studios and they specialise in spanking and fetish films. So, I probably will be made to jerk off, while some well hung Neanderthal whacks my ass with whatever. Then he'll fuck me hard, and shoot his wad across my back."
“Well, that sounds ...” Russell swallowed on a sudden lump. “It sounds all right then ...” His eyes met Damien’s, which were equally round.
Max shrugged. "Spanking studios pay pretty well, better than the straight porn. Besides, I'm a bit of a masochist." He grinned. "Have you met Remy yet? He's gonna be there."
Russell bristled a little. “What? Remy is going too?”
Max laughed. "Remy is kinda protective of me. He wants to make sure no one slips me drugs or anything to eat with shellfish in it. I'm deathly allergic to shellfish, and I almost died the last time I was here. Remy and Gene were having a long weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Remy did a poolside emergency tracheotomy on me with a knife and a straw. It was pretty cool. He's a good guy."
Damien nodded. "He's also French, gorgeous, and was very friendly with Simon. Brought out the little green monster in Russ."
Russell decided not to dignify that remark with a response. “I think your ‘friend’ is waving to you,” Russell said, nodding at the bear. “You better go before he comes over.”
Max laughed. "George is my source of alcohol, since I'm not legally old enough to drink. He'll get a plain coke and one with rum. George doesn't drink, so he passes the rum and coke to me. No one is the wiser, or if they are, they look the other way. Don't you think it's ridiculous that I'm old enough to be in a porn flick, but not old enough to drink? Makes no fucking sense whatever." Max stood up and stretched. "See you later kiddies."
“Kiddies! How old does he think he is?” Russell glared.
Damien watched Max make his way over to George. "I think Max is a bit on the barmy side Russ." He glanced over at the two dozing Tops. "Ok. We need to work out a strategy."
Russell sniggered. “We ply them with drinks tonight, while we watch our own intake. Then we give them some heavy action back in the suite, and that should wipe them both out. They are not as young as they used to be ...” he rolled onto his side, laughing uproariously.
Damien shook his head. "You're cruel, Russ. It's not nice to mock the elderly." He snickered.
“We have plenty of time if we need be there only at one in the morning. Simon is usually snoring by then.”
Damien nibbled on his bottom lip. "Sometimes Miles is asleep; sometimes he's caught his second breath and is ready for round two or three. Must be a farmer thing, he has boundless energy. I'll just have to shag him into unconsciousness."
Russell watched their Tops approach and whispered, “Getting them to do a few laps may also not be a bad idea.” He stood up and waved at Simon. “Catch me if you can!” he sang out cheekily, and then jumped into the pool.
Damien shook his head as Simon dove in and easily caught up to Russell. Simon dunked Russell and when his partner came up spluttering, he kissed him. "Your turn," he said and swam off, moving fluidly through the water.
Russell gave chase immediately, and since they were both accomplished swimmers, they were soon wrestling in the water with a few wild screams coming from Russell.
Damien wasn't a particularly strong or graceful swimmer. He was having a rather vigorous inner debate about whether or not to jump in, when Miles made the decision moot.
“Just where do you think you are going?” Miles grabbed Damien around the waist and held him close. He spoke into his ear. “Hmm, you do look rather gorgeous in that skimpy little thing.”
Damien laughed and winked at him. "I'm even more gorgeous out of it."
“How about we take a walk? There’s a nice little spot in that garden over there, well-hidden from prying eyes. “
Damien's eyes went wide. Miles, his reserved partner, was suggesting public whoohoo? Damien had heard that the air in Florida could affect visitors strangely. Make you more uninhibited, make you do unexpected things. "Are you all right Miles?"
“We are at a clothing optional gay resort. We are expected to act a little crazy!” Miles nuzzled Damien’s neck, feeling a bit heady and enjoying the freedom of being able to fondle his Brat in public.
Damien decided that he liked this new Miles. "Lead on."
Miles did lead on, and rather quickly too. Luckily, their target spot wasn’t too far away, and Miles didn’t have too much difficulty trying to hide the bulge in his swimming trunks. He pushed Damien ahead, guiding him along one of the many short meandering paths and straight to a little patch of lawn, and then quickly arranged the fronds behind them till they were almost concealed from sight.
Damien realised Miles had put a lot of thought into this, and couldn't help but smile. Trust an Englishman to carefully plan an impulsive action.
“I’ve had my eye on this place since yesterday. I’ve always thought about doing it out in the open in broad daylight. It’s an experience we should try at least once!”
Damien laughed. "And what would Auntie B say if she knew what a terrible influence you're being on poor innocent me, hmm? You're right though, we should try this at least once."
“Come here, enough talk!” Miles ordered. His hands held Damien’s hips firm as he kissed him.
Damien responded to the kiss and cupped the hardening bulge in Miles' swimming trunks. He moaned low in his throat and sighed as Miles broke off the kiss. "I don't know why you stopped, but what ever the reason, make it fast."
Miles began peeling Damien's tight trunks down. “These need to come off – yes, you are absolutely right. You do look more gorgeous out of it.”
Damien did a slow turn and wiggled his ass. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
“Well, I am beginning to think it may not be such a bad idea to have you parading around just like this.” His mouth sought out Damien’s again and he thrust his tongue in passionately. “I just love it when you are half hard like this,” he murmured in between kisses.
Damien broke off to help Miles out of his own tight trunks, then, kneeling on the soft grass, he took Miles' cock into his mouth and he sucked. He found a rhythm that was pleasing to them both and used his left hand to bring himself to full erection. Then he stopped. "I want you inside me, Miles." Damien moved back a little and got on all fours.
For once Miles was glad Damien didn’t need too much lube or preparation. He could hardly wait to get inside his young hot partner.
Damien took a deep breath as he felt Miles spread his butt cheeks. Miles teased the little bit of puckered flesh there before he began to enter. Damien hissed softly.
“Am I hurting you?”
Damien shook his head. "Don't stop. For fuck's sake, don't stop." He bit his lip.
Miles grunted loudly; his pulse rate was soaring as he slid slowly in. With the sun shining high above, accompanied with the smell of grass and the feel of soft earth beneath them, they experienced a wild sense of abandon. The fact that there were people walking past their secluded corner every few minutes, with their voices gradually growing louder and then softer as they came and went, only added to the excitement and adrenalin rush.
Damien wanted to sustain a little longer, but he made the mistake of looking up and seeing a pair of eyes gazing back at him through the bushes. He couldn't make out who it was, but the added thrill of a voyeur put him over the top and he came. His whole body spasmed uncontrollably, the muscles of his ass clenched, relaxed and clenched again.
“Jesus!” Miles grunted, as he felt ready to explode. “I am going to come!"
Damien wanted to tell Miles he didn't think Jesus was interested, since Jesus wasn't the one having sex with him, but he had no voice at the moment. He just grabbed handfuls of earth and grass and held on.
A few moments later, after the grunts and gasps have died down, after their heart beats began to slow to normalcy, the two spent men lay down on the ground and closed their eyes. The sum warmed their faces.
“That was ... very nice,” Miles murmured.
Damien snorted. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd rate that a fifteen. Now comes the million pound question - Do we put the suits back on or strut brazenly through the public area and back to our suite?"
Miles opened one eye lazily and turned to look at Damien with a crooked smile. “You know, I have been thinking exactly that. And I say we throw off coyness and whatever silly bashfulness we have and brave the crowd.”
Damien raised his left eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Miles?" He laughed as Miles dug fingers into his ribs. "I'd say that is a brilliant idea."

“Where are they?” Russell looked around, frustrated. “Why are they forever disappearing?”
Simon shrugged. "I imagine they've disappeared in order to have sex. They do that quite a lot, I've noticed."
Russell fumed. That was NOT their plan. They were supposed to tire their Tops out with exercise, then feed and wine them, and then only drain them just before bedtime.
Simon couldn't understand why Russell seemed so mithered about Damien and Miles. "How about we go back to the suite?"
“Did you have something in mind?” Russell cocked an eyebrow, suddenly interested.
Simon raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking about sex, but we could play a game of chess instead. Though to be honest, you're a much better sex partner than chess player."
Giggling, Russell allowed Simon to take his hand and lead him to their suite.
Simon didn't wait until the door was closed before he was cupping and squeezing Russell's firm ass.
Russell laughed and tried to squirm away from Simon’s invading hands. “Aren’t you even going to ...?”
The words died on his lips as he suddenly found himself spun around and pressed against the low kitchen counter. “I guess not!” He grinned as Simon captured both his hands and held them behind his back so that he was totally immobile.
Simon shook his head. "I've always considered Miles a bit reserved, almost to the point of being stuffy at times. So, my fine lad, I'm not about to let him outdo me in the sex department."
The look on Simon’s face made Russell's cock jerk and he swallowed.
Simon nipped Russell on his bottom lip, and then kissed him. His tongue met Russell's and the two tongues did a slow dance together. Reluctantly, Simon brought an end to the dance, nipping Russell's lower lip again as he exited. He made his way down, nibbling and sucking Russell's neck and licking the hollow at its base, until he reached Russell's nipples.
Russell threw his head back and whimpered as Simon licked his nipples one by one. His eyes flew open and he stifled a yelp as Simon teased the tiny buds and bit into them playfully. He moaned and twisted helplessly as Simon worked his way down his body.
Simon playfully poked his tongue into Russell's belly button, then he pressed his mouth onto the bulge in Russell's swim trunks and nuzzled it. The smell of Russell's arousal was almost over powering and Simon wasn't ready to be over powered quite yet. Placing his hands beneath Russell's ass, he gave him a boost up.
“Here?” Russell’s voice was hollow and hungry as Simon propped him onto the counter and removed his trunks.
"Here," Simon responded, and then ran his tongue over the head of Russell's cock. "I'll be back in two shakes."
Russell waited trembling as Simon went to fetch the lube. He felt terribly wanton as he waited on his back, totally naked, with his legs spread far apart and exposed for all the world to see. From somewhere at the back of his mind, he wondered what he would do if Miles or Damien came barging in.
Simon returned, spread lube on his fingers and inserted first one, and then a second. He pushed them deep, just grazing the prostrate. He added a third finger and continued his stroking and teasing. "You want more?"
“Yes, please!” he whispered, tensing against the teasing fingers. “Ahhh...”
Simon smiled. "Since you said please so nicely." Simon removed his fingers and then practically ripped off his swimming trunks. His cock stood pale and proud, its large head a rich plum colour.
“You do have a beautiful cock, Simon!”
Simon slapped some lube onto his cock and rubbed Russell's anus teasingly with its tip. "Well, you have a beautiful arse." He looked at the pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock. "See, my cock is weeping for joy."
Russell’s legs were pulled up and over Simon’s shoulders as he swiftly entered him. Simon had never taken him in this position before, not for lack of imagination but because they had never found a platform at such an ideal height. Russell blinked at the power of Simon’s thrusts and pushed himself up on his elbows the better to accommodate Simon’s length.
Simon closed his eyes in sheer bliss. "It always amazes me how fucking tight you are, Russell."
“God – you are so - hard!” Russell’s own cock was aching for attention but he could not touch himself, not while both elbows were supporting his weight. He needed to come so badly.
Simon opened his eyes again and took Russell's cock in hand. Russell almost wept as Simon began to stroke it. Simon began thrusting harder and faster, and the hand he had wrapped around Russell's cock kept pace. Faster, faster - he felt the tightening - faster - then the spasms as he came. Strong at first, then steadily decreasing. His own spasms brought Russell to completion, and left his hand coated in milky, sticky cum.
Russell flopped back like a broken rag doll. “Oh fuck, that was some fuck!”
Simon lowered Russell's legs. "Glad to be of service!” He laughed and gave Russell a quick kiss. “I'm thinking shower now, how about you?"
Mindful of their plan now that he could think straight again, he asked sweetly. “How about round two in the shower?”


With one hand holding his Brat possessively and the other carrying both their swim trunks, Miles and Damien headed back to their suite. They did not linger, but they were not hurrying either. No one really took too much notice of them, except for a couple of sidelong glances, so after the initial shyness, Miles relaxed enough to enjoy yet another new-found freedom.
The thrill of having sex in a public place and their casual stroll back to their suite left Damien feeling a bit light-headed, almost giddy. He squeezed Miles' hand as they reached the door to their suite. "You're a loon, but I love you anyway."
Miles raised his eyebrows. “You are only saying that because you’ve just been fucked senseless, and in public too.” He looked into Damien’s eyes and his voice was warm as he continued. “And I love you too. Now let’s see if we are brave enough to face Simon and Russ as well.”
Damien found the idea of encountering Russell and Simon a bit more daunting. It was always easier to act the fool in front of complete strangers.
They peeped into their suite and finding it empty, heaved a little sigh and let themselves in. They could hear Simon and Russell in the shower, so Miles and Damien proceeded straight to their own shower and soon an embarrassingly high amount of hot water was consumed all round.
A good half hour later, Damien ran into Russell as he went to get a glass of water, Miles following behind, towel drying his hair.
“Where did you disappear to?” Russell asked as he poured juice into two glasses.
"Miles and I had sex outside behind a bunch of fronds."
Russell’s mouth hung open. “You did?”
Damien nodded. "We could hear people walking by the whole time, and I saw a pair of blue eyes watching us towards the end."
Miles flushed slightly but said with a light chuckle, “Aye, I figured if we were going to join the crowd and do like the Romans do eventually, we might as well get started at the beginning of our holiday rather than waiting till the last day!”
"It's not as if there is anything inherently obscene about naked bodies." Damien added.
Simon, who was sitting on the sofa in a pair of silk boxers, nodded at Damien's comment. "As a rule I would agree, with exceptions for folks like Max. A pierced and tattooed penis is a bit extreme."
“Simon, I don’t care what you say, I AM going the full Monty tomorrow! In fact, why don’t we do it right now?”
Simon gave forth with a long suffering sigh. "Very well, but only for a bit. I'm feeling rather peckish."
Miles and Damien declined the invitation to join them and settled into the sofa, watching a bit of TV as their companions strode purposefully out, gloriously naked. Russell winked jauntily back at Damien as he exited the door, but he quickly grasped Simon’s hand as they walked out into the bright sunshine.
“Ooh,” Russell crooned as a few pairs of eyes turned to observe their approach. “Let’s head to the bar.”
Simon nodded. "One cocktail, then it's back to the suite."
Afterwards, they went out to eat. They decided to try Camille's Restaurant and save the Hogfish Bar and Grille for a later night out with Remy and Gene. They each ordered something different, so as to make the most of their dinner out, and sampled each other's meals. Lobster, crab claws, crab cakes, huge shrimps, yellow tailed snapper - all served with exotic spices and sauces using coconut milk, lime, ginger and rum. Washed down with margaritas. Even Damien found little to complain about.
Damien and Russell practised burping after the meal, and attempting to outdo the other till they were called to order by their Tops. Russell threw Damien a speaking glance and insisted they take a stroll along the promenade. A pleasurable half hour was spent watching locals and other tourists as they took in the air by the seafront. Returning to their suite, they bid one another goodnight and retired to their separate rooms, where both Brats privately planned for a bit of post-dinner erotic wrestling, before settling in for the night.
Damien poked Miles gently a couple of times and satisfied his partner was truly asleep, he pulled on a pair of baggy jeans. He slipped quietly out and found Russell doing the same.
Russell shut the door carefully on the softly snoring Simon and whispered. “He’s sleeping soundly but I don’t want to risk anything. I honestly don’t know if we should go ahead with this ... if they ever find out ...”
Damien snorted. "If they find out they'll spank us, it'll hurt like bloody hell, and we'll cry. But, we will have seen a gay porn shoot. So it will be worth it."
“Oh all right! I guess you are right. But for God’s sake be careful!”
Damien rolled his eyes. "I'm not worried; you're the one being a nervous Nellie."
The resort was far from asleep as they crept out of their suite into the main areas. Quite a number of people were still gathered at the bar, the band was still in attendance, and bare-chested waiters were busily serving drinks for their customers.
It didn't take them long to reach the lounge and they stood there looking at the door, wondering what they were supposed to do next.
“Do we just – um, go in?” Russell asked.
Damien shrugged. "I guess so; Max didn't give us a code word or anything."
Just then the door opened and Remy peeped out.
Remy raised an eyebrow. "Bon soir mes amis. I do not see your partners, so you are doing the sneak out, non?"
Damien shook his head; he didn't see any reason to tell Remy the truth. "Non. We shagged them both senseless and they need their beauty rest, so they stayed behind."
Remy gave Damien a look that said he was not buying it, but Damien and Russell were not his problem, so he let them in. "I'm not a big fan of porn. It is an ugly business. But I'm fond of Max, and so I'm here."
“Yeah, sure,” Russell muttered under his breath.
"Oui, c'est vrais. I am a doctor, remember. It is a business that encourages and rewards risky behaviours. Max is barely 19 and I would like him to reach 20." Remy sighed.
There were quite a few guests and crew wandering about, and Damien could see Max talking to a tall man who reminded him of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger. They were looking at a collection of paddles, floggers, straps and canes. Just looking at those gave Damien and Russell the shivers. Max and the Arnold look-alike set a few aside and then Max came over to say hello and give Remy a hug.
"Hi. Glad you made it, especially since George now owes me fifty. We had a bet on whether you would lose your nerve or not. I said you'd be here, and I was right."
Damien snorted. "That's a bit insulting, isn't it Russ?"
Russell looked at Max. “What? We lose our nerve? Whatever made you think that?”
Max laughed. "Come on, admit it. Your Tops keep you both on pretty short leashes. It's the nature of the beast. I bet you either fucked them into unconsciousness or got them drunk, so they would be out of the way."
Damien shrugged "A bit of both."
Russell looked around him. “So when is the action going to start?”
"Just waiting for my cue." Max shrugged. "I'm going to be bent over and braced against that wall there and you'll have a better view if you move a bit to your right."
"Max sweetie, quit flirting and get your twink ass over here." The director, a rather harried looking man in his late 30's pointed to an X marked on the floor with gaffer's tape.
"That's my cue." Max gave Remy another hug. 'Don't look so glum Remy. Roy and I have worked together before, and he knows my limits. Besides, it’s a quick shoot, so no craft services and no risk of shellfish. I haven't accepted anything to drink at shoots since the time someone slipped me a roofie and I woke up in a Catholic confessional booth naked and disoriented."
"Could we have quiet please?" The director requested.
Max shrugged off his robe, went over to his mark, bent over and spread his legs until he found a position that was comfortable and stable. Roy massaged Max's butt, then he slammed his open palm down in a crack that was shockingly loud, and left a darkening palm print on Max's left butt cheek. He repeated the process for the right. The force of the smacks made Damien wince and clench his own butt cheeks. Roy followed a set routine, a smack on each cheek, then a pause during which he would massage Max's reddening ass. When a rich rosy red had been achieved, Roy picked up a thin paddle, worked a finger into Max's ass, and then continued his punishment, moving his finger in and out in time with the paddle.
Russell stood close to Damien, trying not to gape at the scene in front of them. He gave a quick glance around the room. The director was leaning forward, his brow furrowed and his hands expressing his thoughts silently while the cameramen went about their work.
Damien looked over at Russell and silently mouthed "Oh my God."
Max began to moan softly. Roy added a second finger and the paddle swats became harder and Max's moans louder. His cock rose to half mast, and leaving his right arm still braced against the wall, Max reached down between his knees and wrapped his fingers around his cock. At that point, Roy removed his fingers from Max's ass and turned him around.
"Did I give permission for you to touch yourself?" Max shook his head no. "Spread you legs, and put your hands above your head. Now." Roy put the paddle down and picked up a multi-tail latex whip.
Russell drew in a breath while Damien looked on, wide eyed. Roy proceeded to strike Max across the nipples with the whip, gradually marking his way down. The blows weren't hard, just enough to sting a bit. When Roy began to strike Max across his cock, Damien seriously considered leaving. He looked at Russell, who swallowed when he encountered Damien’s eye but then they heard Max moan louder and his cock reached full erection – and the moment of indecision was lost. Max seemed to be enjoying himself actually; he hadn't been kidding when he told them he was a bit of a masochist. Roy's blows became a little harder and Max's breathing a little heavier. When a particularly hard blow caught Max across his scrotum, he yelped and Roy put the latex whip down.
"On your knees. Let's put that smart mouth of yours to work."
Max knelt down and took Roy's still flaccid cock into his mouth and began to suck. Max was in his element here, no one gave better head. Roy moaned his appreciation, and despite their trepidations, Russell and Damien felt a rush of arousal. When Roy was erect, Max stopped and waited for permission to rise.
Roy nodded and Max stood up. "Assume the position." he ordered, and Max once more bent over and braced his arms against the wall.
"Looks like I need to warm this ass up again." Roy reached for a medium weight two tailed strap. "Count them." When Max reached 20, Roy stopped and tossed the strap aside, stopping a moment to admire his handiwork. Max’s butt was finely striped in red.
Roy spread just a dab of lube on the head of his cock, and then slowly entered. Damien could hear Max hiss. Roy was a lot to handle.
Once he was sheathed, Roy wasted no time, and he took Max fast and hard, slamming into him with most of his body weight behind his thrusts. Their laboured breathing filled the room. As he was about to come, Roy pulled out and shot his wad across Max's back. As his breathing returned to normal, he told Max to turn back around. Roy wrapped his right hand around Max’s cock and worked until Max came as well. Then, as the two of them wrapped their arms around each other and Roy rubbed Max's ass, the director yelled cut.
"Did we get a good angle on the money shots?" the director asked one of the cameramen, who nodded. "Ok then, that's a wrap."
Roy handed Max a robe to put on and gave him a quick kiss, then Max made his way over.
Remy gave Max a kiss on the cheek and tousled his hair. "If you don't need me, I'm going to bed."
Max shook his head and grinned. "Nope, I'm good. Go snuggle with Gene."
"Bon nuit, then. Remember you are joining us for breakfast." Remy gave Max's hair one last tousle, then he left.
"We should be going too, before we're missed. It was ..." Damien searched for a word to describe it "Illuminating."
Russell blinked. “Yes, you were brilliant.” He smiled cheekily.
"Yeah, I'll bet." Max laughed. "I'll understand if you avoid me in the future."
Both Damien and Russell quickly assured him otherwise.
Max yawned. "Hey, do you guys wanna stick around for a drink, or something? I’m usually too wired to sleep after a heavy scene like that.”
Russell immediately shook his head. “Sorry, I wish we could, but we need to get back,” he said regretfully.
Damien nodded. "It was great fun, really."
Max nodded understandingly. “No sweat. I've gotta few more things to do here, then I'm heading for bed. ALONE. I need to recover a bit, if you know what I mean. ”He jerked his head towards Roy.
Russell looked over Max’s shoulder as the director came up to them. “I think you are wanted?”
Max quirked an eyebrow at the director. "Is there a problem Jordan?"
Jordan put an arm around Max’s shoulders and pulled him in for a quick hug. “Problem? No, we got our shots. That was good work Max!” he said.
Max grinned. "Thanks. George left me a bottle of Southern Comfort in the suite. So I'm thinking a shot of whiskey to help bring me down, and then off to dreamland."
“I think that is a pretty good idea; go on up to bed now and I’ll look in on you in a bit. Keep the connecting door open, okay?”
Max raised both eyebrows this time. "Oh-kay. Any reason why? I'm probably gonna have to sleep on my stomach tonight, but I'm okay."
“I just want to be sure. I gotta take good care of my star!”
"Oh all right, I’ll leave the connecting door open, since you just called me your star." Max winked at him.
Damien nudged Russell. "Come on Russ, we need to get back."
“Yeah, we’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow ... and oh ...” Russell hesitated, not quite sure how to put it.
Max made a zipping motion across his lips. "Not a word about you being here tonight." He laughed. "Your secret is safe with me kiddies."
“Thanks – exactly! There’s no reason they need to know anything!” Russell said.
Damien huffed. "Thanks and we're older than you are, you know."
Max just laughed again. "Uh huh, but you're Brats. That makes me the mature one."
After Damien and Russell had left, Max turned to Jordan. "Wanna bet on how long they last before they confess? 50 bucks that they don't last the morning."
Jordan snorted. “They are not my concern. Where on earth did you pick them up? Anyway, time for you to get going. I will close up here and see you in a bit.”
Max yawned. "Well, whatever. I'm off to bed. I told Remy and Gene I would have breakfast with them. If I don't show up, Remy will just come and get me."
Jordan watched Max saunter off, the robe hanging loosely around his skinny body. For the hundredth time, Jordan wondered what it was about Max that made him feel so protective. True, he was young and he was currently a hot item in their circuit, but he certainly was no innocent and had proven that he was well able to take care of himself. He didn’t need Jordan – or anyone else – to look out for him.
With a resigned shrug, Jordan turned back to the crew, and began to pack up his bag.


Miles buttered a slice of toast and put it on Damien’s plate. “Do you want some eggs as well, Damien?”
Damien nodded without enthusiasm, and tried a bit of the buttered toast. It stuck in his throat like a piece of greasy sandpaper and he took a sip of coffee to wash it down. The eggs went down a bit easier, and he continued to eat in a rather automated fashion.
Sitting quietly in his rattan chair, Russell looked with an uncharacteristic lack of interest at the bacon and eggs on his plate. He reached for his coffee instead and sipped it slowly. “What?” he asked suddenly as he became aware of Simon’s scrutiny.
Simon raised an eyebrow at Russell's tone of voice. "I was wondering whether anything was wrong. You haven't touched your breakfast and you seem a bit distant."
Russell flushed and his eyes darted to Damien. “I don’t quite know, I think perhaps I overdid it yesterday? We were pretty ... er, busy last night, weren’t we?” He almost bit his tongue out as he realized what he had just said.
Simon did not miss Russell's flush nor his quick glance over to Damien. Simon used the pretence of wiping his mouth to hide his smile before responding. "We were indeed. I would think that you'd have a rather hearty appetite this morning."
Russell tried to think of a suitable response and came up blank.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I slept like a log!” Miles said mildly, his attention fixed on his plate. “I wouldn’t even have noticed if you had got out of bed, Damien.”
Damien choked, tried covering it as a cough, and reached for his coffee. "Sorry, this toast is a bit rough."
"Bon matin." Remy came walking in with his arm around Gene's waist. "I hope you all slept well?" His gaze lingered on Damien and Russell. Damien wanted to throw something at him.
"I slept very well, thank you," Simon answered. "But Russell seems a bit out of it. Damien does too, wouldn't you agree Miles?"
“I would. Care to join us?” Miles invited.
Both Brats froze.
Remy shook his head. "Merci for the offer, but we are having breakfast with Max."
Just then, Max appeared, followed by Jordan whose ear was pressed to his mobile phone. Jordan was talking rapidly and paid little heed to the group which was looking their way.
Max was wearing the same baggy jeans he'd worn the previous day, but he'd added a tie-dyed tank top and a black dog collar to his ensemble. His blonde hair stuck out in all directions.
"Jordan, Remy and Gene are here, so I'm gonna get some breakfast. If you want to join us, it's cool."
Jordan did not reply. He just sat down at a table and continued talking, oblivious to his surroundings.
Max rolled his eyes, as he walked over to where Remy and Gene were standing, then gave them both a big hug. "Hi kiddies." He waved at Damien and Russell. "Those eggs any good Damien? I'm starved, or as you Brits say, peckish."
Damien just nodded and sent Max a silent plea to move along. He took another forkful of eggs, put it in his mouth and forced a smile.
Max, Remy and Gene grabbed a table a short distance away and Max curled up comfortably in a chair between Remy and Gene. He whispered something to Remy, and they both laughed. Damien knew, he just knew that it was at his and Russell's expense.
“You boys seem rather ... chummy with that ... porn star,” Miles remarked in a low voice.
Forgoing the coffee this time, Damien took a sip of water. "I wouldn't say chummy, exactly." Damien answered quietly. "Max is very friendly so I'm just being friendly back."
Russell found himself rushing into a garbled speech. “This is a friendly place ... everyone’s a friend eventually ... I mean you can’t help ... people are just friendlier here ... ”
"The people here are a lot more open, and less judging." Damien cut in clumsily to rescue him. "Less inhibited." Damien suddenly thought back on the previous night's surreal entertainment and felt the hysteria building.
"Sometimes a little inhibition is a good thing." Simon responded and topped off his coffee. "Good Lord, would you chaps take a look at that."
All eyes turned as Roy entered. He was rather magnificent looking, dressed very skimpily in just a pair of swim trunks and a loose tank top that made him look like a model out of a body building magazine. He sat down at Jordan’s table and looked around. His eyes encountered Russell and Damien and he nodded amiably, an easy smile on his face.
Simon looked from Roy to Russell, then back to Roy. "Do you know him?"
“Damien?” Miles said just that one word.
"We've not been formally introduced or anything, no." Damien’s heart thudded against his rib cage. He was amazed that Roy had even remembered him and Russell. Bit flattering that. But terrifying as well. What if Roy came over to their table? Damien looked over at Russell, who refused to meet his eyes. Doggedly, Russell bent his head and began shovelling his cold eggs into his mouth.
Simon reached over and took the fork from Russell's hand. "I asked you a question Russell."
Russell almost snatched his fork back. “I’m eating!”
Simon narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but I asked you a question. Your eggs are not going anywhere and besides, they're cold."
"Are we having breakfast or the bloody Spanish Inquisition?" Damien said and wished he had remained silent. Miles had that crease between his brow, the one that usually spelled trouble. His heart thudded so loudly he was sure Miles could hear it.
“Its strange how you both have managed to make so many new friends without us,” Miles said evenly, looking rather searchingly at his young partner. “Especially when we’ve been together practically the whole time.”
Damien couldn't take much more - he was heading straight for a full blown panic attack. He couldn’t meet Miles’ eyes and he was sure he was going to either have a heart attack or confess. He didn't know which was worse. Well, on second thought maybe he did. They didn't spank you when you had a heart attack. Then without any warning, in a voice loud enough to carry poolside, he shouted. "ALL RIGHT!! I CAN'T FUCKING STAND ANYMORE OF THIS. RUSSELL AND I SNUCK OUT AND WENT TO MAX'S BLOODY PORN SHOOT."
Russell gasped and let his fork drop with a loud clang. The sound echoed round the breakfast parlour which had gone dead silent, all eyes turned in their direction. Miles grabbed a napkin and calmly began to soak up the coffee which had been spilt with Damien’s announcement.
"We know." Simon stated in a matter of fact tone.
"Damn." Max said as he reached over and snagged a croissant from Gene's plate. Gene didn't say a word; he just took another one from the basket on the table. "I was sure Russell would be the one to crack first. Good thing Jordan didn't want to bet."
Remy shrugged and took a sip of orange juice. "Damien is the more high-strung of the two. I do not think that Miles and Simon were surprised by his public confession, though. Vider le sac - the secret is out, non?"
"The cat has poked its head out of the bag." Gene poured a bit of honey on his croissant. "There hasn't been anything this juicy to gossip about since your poolside emergency tracheotomy on Max. At least four guests fainted that time, as I remember."
Max snorted. "The only one who looks like he might faint this time is Damien."
Russell, for once, was totally tongue-tied. His eyes were huge and round and threatened to pop right out of his head. He cast a quick glance around and flushed right up to the roots of his hair when he saw practically all eyes on them.
"Are you all right Russell?" Simon asked with mock concern.
Damien just put his face in his hands. He actually felt a bit better, having gotten things off his chest, he just wished he hadn't done it in front of so many witnesses. "Was I shouting?"
Miles pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Yes, I am quite sure the whole resort heard you Damien. Everyone here certainly did.”
Simon nodded. "I could have done without the profanity." Simon placed his napkin on his plate and stood up. "Shall we discuss this somewhere more private?" Simon snapped his fingers. "Come along Russell."
Damien looked over at Miles.
“Yes honey, you too!” Miles said with mock severity. He bent down and put his mouth next to Damien’s ear. “Move!”
Damien jumped up with surprising speed. "But I haven't finished breakfast yet." he whined. "Shouldn't I at least get a last meal?"
Miles simply grabbed Damien’s arm and pulled him along.
"Oh to be a fly on the wall in that suite." Max sighed.
"Do you not feel even a little bit responsible for their troubles?" Remy asked him.
"Nope. Free will and all that shit. They got caught, now it's all over but the booty smacking and the crying." Max shrugged. "Damien and Russell are Brats, Simon and Miles are Tops. That's the way it works."
Gene shook his head in bemusement. "It still seems strange to me that adults have these sorts of relationships, but as Remy likes to point out, I've led a sheltered life."
The Brats were firmly pushed along the corridor towards their suite, both of them regretting not having thought in advance what excuse might sound reasonably sane.
We were sleep walking....
We couldn’t sleep and went for a walk and found ourselves....
Remy asked for our help.... it was a medical emergency...
We were doing research!
Nothing worked. They exchanged a look which bespoke doom, and silently watched as Simon fitted the room card into the lock. The initial relief Damien had felt after confessing was making an abrupt turn back towards panic. He and Russell had openly defied their Tops, one of those big sins. The kind of sins written in large, bold, capital letters. In red of course, to match the shade Miles was gonna turn his arse.
Miles brought up the rear, pressing close to Damien with one hand on his back. He carefully wiped his expression clear as they all entered their suite, removing all trace of amusement from his face.
Simon pointed to the sofa. "Sit down Russell."
Russell obeyed with alacrity. Damien didn't even wait for the order from Miles; he joined Russell on the couch, looking down at his hands.
Miles stood next to Simon in front of the two guilty faces and did not waste any more time. “I would like to know what possessed you both to openly defy us in this manner. And please look at us when we are speaking to you!”
Damien frowned a bit as he looked back up. "It's hard to look you in the eye when you look like you want to throttle us."
Miles kept his face straight with some difficulty; Damien didn’t do penitence well but he really did look quite delectable. He frowned back at Damien.
"Russell." Simon waited for his brat to look up and make eye contact. "The floor is yours. Now is the time for you to dazzle me with your reasons for sneaking out."
Russell had been a Brat long enough to know when to concede defeat, and this was definitely one of those times. He shook his head sadly, looking as remorseful as he possibly could. “I am sorry Simon.”
Simon nodded. "You usually are Russell. I can't picture you ever telling me to get stuffed. I also know you had what seemed to you a good reason for your and Damien's defiance."
Russell nodded enthusiastically, agreeing whole heartedly with Simon. “Yes, very good reason. It just seemed an opportunity of a lifetime ... you know?” Russell dropped his eyes, finding Simon’s stare once again impossible to meet.
Simon nodded again. "I see. I wasn't aware that viewing a gay porno shoot ranked so high on your list of things to do before you die. You should keep me better informed about these things."
Russell peeped up, not at all sure about Simon’s tone, while Damien fidgeted on the sofa cushion.
"We just watched, that's all we did.” Damien said helpfully. “We didn't participate in an orgy, we didn't take any drugs, and we didn't even have anything to drink."
Miles shook his head. “So you think that makes it all right? Is this opportunity SO fantastic that you would brave disobeying a direct order? Is this really worth a spanking?” Miles raised an eyebrow.
Damien snorted, he couldn't help it. "Don't be daft Miles; I don't think ANYTHING is worth a spanking. That's why I usually try very hard not to be caught."
“We – we were drinking a lot and pretty high last night, if you remember?” Russell said, discovering a sudden silver lining. “It could have clouded our judgement.”
“Are you saying this was unplanned?” Miles asked softly. “A spontaneous impromptu action?”
Damien bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "Would it make a difference if we said yes?"
Simon raised both eyebrows. "Even if that were true, and I have my doubts, it would still not excuse your behaviour. You were both perfectly sober when you were told the lounge was off-limits."
Russell swallowed, feeling horribly trapped. “Well, ...”
Simon, in a stern tone of voice said "Think carefully before you answer."
Damien raised his right hand. "If I may say something? There was a tradition, mostly among the Royals, of having a designated whipping boy. When the Prince did something naughty, the whipping boy would take his punishment. Now Russell and I aren't too keen on pain, but Max likes it quite a lot. I'm sure he would be glad to take any punishments for us, and since it was his shoot we snuck out to see, it would make a sort of karmic sense. Don't you agree?"
Miles totally lost it then. He couldn’t keep in the loud shout of laughter, which he turned immediately into a choke.
Simon, having been a Top longer than Miles, managed to keep his composure. "While I applaud your creativity Damien, I'm afraid you have failed to sway me. Neither you nor Russell are of Royal blood, and Max's masochistic tendencies are a poor excuse for his accepting punishment in your place."
Fully in control of his voice again, Miles grunted. “I agree with Simon. And shame on you Damien, for even suggesting it. Would it be punishment if you enjoyed it?”
Damien tried to regroup his thoughts. "I'm just tossing out ideas. So, if I said I like to be spanked, you'd find another, less painful way to punish me?"
“I think we’ve talked enough. So far, I’ve heard nothing compelling enough to spare either of you. Have you, Simon?”
Simon shook his head. "No, but I didn't expect to hear a reason that would pass muster with you and I."
Russell slowly got to his feet. “You know we were planning to go the full Monty again today?”
Simon raised his left brow. "To be honest, Russell, what with the sneaking out to go to a porno shoot, I hadn't given nude sunbathing much thought."
“Well it just seems a shame ...” Russell’s voice trailed off unhappily. “What a waste of good opportu... oh ...” he snapped his mouth shut when he realized he was about to repeat that hated word.
Simon looked at Russell in a puzzled fashion. "What has being spanked have to do with going out to the pool starkers? I have no problem with that."
Damien looked at Simon as if he had suddenly gone mad. "Russell and I can't go nude with red butts."
“Damien honey, there is nothing to stop you from showing the world a red ass if you so wish. I wouldn’t dream of standing in your way.” Miles said, patting his Brat’s bum encouragingly.
Damien glared daggers at his Top.
“Come along then!” Miles said, and led Damien into their room.

Much later, a still sniffling Damien lay on the bed, face down, clutching a pillow.
Satisfied that Damien had calmed down sufficiently, Miles excused himself, and stepped outside to enjoy a nice gin and tonic. Damien watched him go and punched his pillow viciously. He wanted a bloody gin and tonic too. But no, he was to lay there until given permission to get up!! How unfair was that!
Damien reached back and tentatively touched his bum. It was still hot, even through his briefs. God, Miles had really meant business this time. Damien glanced at his trousers, pooled on the floor, and decided he couldn’t be bothered to pick them up. He dropped his head down on his soft pillow and wondered how Russell had fared.
Not well, he could surmise, from the shouts which had come earlier from behind the closed door.
Damien shuddered as he recalled how Miles had bared him - he hated it when Miles did that. It made him feel all of five. Then Miles had hand spanked him, rather thoroughly, before sending him to the corner, trousers down. Damien stood there, hands on head for fifteen minutes before Miles called him over. Damien had resisted being placed back over Miles' lap a second time, which was why the back of his thighs were almost a match for his red bum. Then Miles had used the hairbrush, which hurt like bloody hell. Damien, not one to bear punishment stoically, had been reduced to pleading after the first swat. He was sobbing by the fifth. To be fair, he didn't think Miles had given him more than a dozen swats. But on an already sore arse, those swats were agonizing.
Miles then rubbed his back until the worst of the sobbing had subsided, then pulled his briefs back up, gave him a hug and helped him lie down on the bed. One thing for certain, he was NOT going to show his red arse and thighs off to the rest of the guests.
Russell too was lying in bed on his stomach, wiping away bitter tears. His arse burnt as if it had been set on fire and he didn’t know when he would actually be able to sit in comfort again. Not in the bloody near future, he thought resentfully.
But even more upsetting was the fact that Simon had LEFT. Once the spanking was over (and what a spanking it had been!) Simon had placed him in bed and ordered him to lie there quietly. Russell watched him go with disbelief, and then his heart swelled with indignation when he heard Simon’s cheerful laugh as he conversed with Miles outside. And then, the crowning injustice – he had heard the front door close and silence followed, leaving him and his fellow miscreant alone in the suite.
They were indeed a sorry pair and in retrospect, the porn shoot had SO NOT been worth all this trouble. Why was it always so much easier to see the road ahead when you were looking back, Russell thought sorrowfully.
Too tired to keep fanning his resentment, Russell snuggled into his pillows and slept.
In the next room, Damien fretted. He decided he'd never, ever, been this bored before in his life. He glared at the bedroom door, and then he glared at his pillow. Somewhere, out there, Miles and Simon were having fun. He was punching his pillow into submission when he heard someone at the door of their suite.
The insistent ringing of the doorbell roused Russell too. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head. Was that the doorbell? “Damien, can you get that?” he called out.
Damien yelled back an answer. "I'm not supposed to get out of bed until Miles gives me permission."
With a great sigh, Russell pulled himself out of bed and staggered to the front door, clad in his underwear. “Who is it?”
A cheerful voice answered "It's Max. I have a bottle of 'forgive me' brandy with me."
Damien got up and joined Russell by the front door. "It would be rude to leave him standing there, right?"
Russell looked at Damien. “I thought you were supposed to stay in bed?” he said scathingly. Then with a shrug, he called out, “just a minute!” and pointed to their semi-nakedness. “We should put on a robe at least?” he whispered to Damien.
Damien turned his head and regarded his thighs, which were still rather red. "Definitely." He grabbed his robe from its peg in the bathroom and waited for Russell.
As Russell opened the door, Max came inside, bouncing like Tigger from the Winnie the Pooh stories. He raised an eyebrow at the robes. "So spill. I want every gory detail."
“Well, I’ve been asleep actually,” Russell said, with a theatrical yawn.
Max rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit here. I know your Tops busted your asses, and now they're out there catching some rays and having drinks, while you're left here to cry into your pillows. Am I right?"
"You're right." Damien answered and went to fetch glasses for the brandy. "Even though I did offer the suggestion of you taking the punishment in our place, to be our whipping boy."
To Damien's surprise, Max grabbed him in a hug. "That was so sweet of you." He poured a brandy for each of them. "Shall we have a toast to toasted asses then?
Russell huffed. “I don’t know if we are even supposed to let you in, much less share a brandy with you!”
Max looked crestfallen, but he quickly rallied. "Well, if you don't know, then your Tops can't have issued any orders regarding my visiting and brandy. So no foul, no penalty."
Damien raised his glass in a toast. "To roasted rumps of British Brat."
Max clinked glasses with Damien. "To roasted rumps. Russell?"
Russell threw caution to the wind and accepted a glass. “Oh, what the hell ...” he tossed his head back and downed the fiery liquid, blinking a little.
Max laughed, downed his brandy and poured a second. "So, let's hear your sad tale of woe."


From the bar, Simon saw Max head towards their wing and smiled. "Looks like our lads have a visitor. Should we intervene or let it go for now?" He took another sip of his gin and tonic.
Miles shaded his eyes with one hand and caught the tail of Max as he disappeared round the corner. “Nah let them have some fun. I am enjoying my martini too much to move. I must say it has a rather mellowing effect.”
Simon sighed. "It does indeed, which is why I am inclined to allow Max's visitation. I did feel just the tiniest twinge of guilt over leaving Russell and Damien alone in the suite after a punishment."
Gene, a bottle of Dr. Pepper in his hand, made his way over to them. "The two of you look very relaxed and pleased with the world." He took a seat next to Miles.
Simon nodded. "Indeed. Though I dare say Russell and Damien are not too pleased at present. Miles noticed Max entering our suite; he should help cheer the lads up."
Gene laughed. "Max is very puppyish, and it's kind of hard to stay sad with a puppy around."
“Say,” Miles looked at Gene with interest. “Did you know about last night’s shoot?”
Gene nodded. "Neither Remy or I are fans of pornography, well at least not of the lifestyle that often accompanies it. He went to the shoot to keep an eye on Max, though I told him Max can take care of himself."
Miles and Simon exchanged a glance before Simon asked, “How well do you know Max?”
"Remy knows him better than I do, they keep in touch." Gene answered. "We met him here last year; he'd just turned 18 and was a new face in the industry. He's bright, still sane in an insane business, and very sweet."
“Damien has seen all his movies apparently, and so is a fan,” Miles said dryly.
"He has a lot of them." Gene laughed. "Male and female. I was surprised at how many women are gay porn fans."
"I don't want to come across as judgmental,” Simon said, "but as a rule I don't encourage Russell to hang out with Max's sort."
Miles nodded. “I have to admit I was not too happy with the association either. Its not being stuffy you understand.”
Gene raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it? You're judging Max without knowing much about him, apart from the fact he's a porn actor. He doesn't do drugs and he doesn't have orgies in his hotel room. Any director working with him knows that Max will show up on time, ready to shoot. He's very professional about it."
Simon cleared his throat. "That may be, but in the end, he is still a tattooed, pierced, masochistic leaning young man who makes his living having sex on film. He likes to take risks and I'd rather keep Russell safe."
“Yes, that’s right. We tend to be a bit protective.” Miles said softly.
Gene shrugged. "I can understand that. I think that I'm a bit more sensitive to perceived prejudice and stereotyping, being African American. I know what it's like to be judged and condemned without having a chance to prove yourself. Max, despite what he does for a living, is a good kid."
“We are not saying he isn’t!” Miles was quick to clarify. “But his environment and situation exposes him to – er, rather unusual risks. Call it occupational hazard, if you will.”
Simon finished off his gin and tonic. “The British are a bit on the cautious side, whether that’s a good thing or not. Better safe than sorry, that kind of thing.”
Gene nodded. "Remy was trying to explain to me how your relationships work. He threw out a lot of terms like Top, Brat, and domestic discipline. Damien and Russell are Brats, you and Miles are Tops? And you spank your adult partners?"
Simon and Miles raised their glasses and grinned at Gene’s puzzled expression.
Simon chuckled. "It's all true. Miles and I are Tops and we spank our Brats. We were doing a bit of the latter before we came out to the pool."
“Of course Simon has been at it for much longer than I have,” Miles said. “I had seen how Simon handled Russell and had a pretty good idea of how it worked. But I had no practical experience till Damien sailed into my life.”
Gene frowned a bit. "So, why is this different than a dominant/submissive relationship?"
Simon snorted. "There is nothing submissive about Russell or Damien. They are always scheming and plotting, trying to find a way around the rules, looking for that loophole. And neither Miles nor I make rules for the sake of making rules, or punish to dominate. Our jobs are to keep our partners safe and well, and if that means the occasional use of corporal punishment, then so be it. It's understood by Top and Brat that it works that way."
Miles’ lips twitched. “I can’t imagine how we would go on if we didn’t have discipline in our relationship. That young man of mine is pure Brat! So is Russell, and Simon is going to agree with me on that.”
Simon couldn't help but chuckle. "Indeed. Damien does seem to be calming down a bit. It took Russell a while to adjust - he finally decided it wasn't worth the wear and tear on his bum to continually challenge me on everything. So he picks his battles a bit more carefully now."
"It sounds a bit like being a parent." Gene decided. "A lot of work."
Miles and Simon snorted simultaneously and in so expressive a manner that Gene gave way to a cackle of laughter.
Simon shook his head with feeling. ““Oh yes, it’s a bit of hard work and not always pleasant, but if it’s the only way to make it work, I am more than willing to live this way.”
Miles put a hand on Gene’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Actually, it does have its upsides. I was surprised how... close we felt after I have had to discipline Damien. There aren’t really any good words to describe the feeling.”
"It's what Russell and Damien need to feel safe." Simon added. 'They need to know that we will step in when they get out of control, and restore balance."
“Absolutely right!” Miles agreed. “And what do you do when Remy gets ... difficult? From what I can see, he has the Brat in him too.”
Gene started to chuckle and the chuckle turned into full blown laughter. Wiping the tears from his eyes he said. "I can't see Remy agreeing to such an arrangement, though I admit I have swatted him a time or two in frustration. I think his occasional brattish behaviour is a method of coping with stress, and I usually give him some space. And, though I know I am stereotyping here, he IS French." Gene laughed again.
Simon stood up and went to get a refill of his gin and tonic, then returned. "I really shouldn't, but this is a vacation."
They toasted one another and then lapsed into a companionable silence, each comfortable with his understanding of the others’ needs and opinions and fully accepting it. They sipped their drinks for a while, and then Gene spoke.
"Remy and I are going to the Hogfish Bar and Grille tonight, and we wanted to invite the four of you. It's very old Key West."
“Our lads will like that, I am sure,” Miles said. “I must say I would like to see the place myself.”
Simon nodded. "Do we need to dress up a bit?"
Gene shook his head. "Nope. Nothing fancy or even half fancy about it - I call it crusty sea dog casual. It's on the Safe Harbour Marina and the food is right off the boats. Doesn't get any fresher or better, in my humble opinion. It's famous for its Hogfish sandwich, big pink shrimp and strong drinks. It's kinda off the tourist radar, so you'll see lots of locals, a lot of boat captains. Not gonna find Paris Hilton types there. Let's say we meet at the pool at around 6ish and call a taxi?"
"That sounds like a plan." Simon agreed.
"I'll let Remy know when he gets back from the gym." Gene stood up and stretched. "Until later then."

Dinner had been, well, interesting. Damien had started off in a sulky mood, partly due to having a sore bum and partly because he'd wanted to invite Max as well. Remy smoothed things over by telling Damien that Max would have declined due to his shellfish allergy. That was one risk Max didn't take.
Damien had been a bit dubious about eating anything called a Hogfish. It just didn't sound like a proper fish. It turned out to be quite delicious though. And the drinks were oversized and strong. He'd mellowed out quite a bit by the end of the meal, in fact he'd gotten quite silly, but a look from Miles had kept him in check.
Russell had been less than thrilled when he found out they would be eating with Remy and Gene, in particular Remy.
“B-but why?” he had whined.
Simon took a deep breath, and told himself to keep patient. "Because they have graciously invited us to dinner and I have accepted. That is all you need to know."
And that was that; with the sting still fresh in his backside, he had not been inclined to argue. He had not even dared sulk too openly for Simon was keeping him on an extremely tight leash. For which he was secretly glad – it was that much easier to be gracious when your Top provided you with sufficient motivation. And once he made up his mind to enjoy the evening, he actually did.
Gene had ordered the coconut shrimp platter, while Remy had ordered the restaurants signature Hogfish sandwich, but not without lamenting that he'd have to work out again at the hotel's gym later. Gene leaned over and whispered something in Remy's ear that made him laugh and blush. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Gene had suggested a much more pleasant way to work off the meal.
There was much swapping of food as they sampled one another’s dishes. Russell loosened up enough to even pass his fork to Remy, skewered with a chunky piece of calamari. Once the main course was done, Russell demanded dessert and was busily scrutinizing the menu before the platters had been cleared.
Damien was stuffed, but if Russell was demanding dessert, then it was his solemn duty to demand it as well. "It looks like there's just one dessert, Russ. Homemade pina colada bread pudding with a rum sauce. Just saying that makes me drool." He looked over at Miles "We could order three and then share?"
Miles looked sceptical, but Remy cut in before Miles could reply. "That would be perfect. They are big enough for two to share."
Miles relented and observed with a smile as Damien made a valiant attempt, but was unable to eat more than a few spoonfuls of the rich pudding. All eyes watched Russell in awe as he ate his share and most of Simon's as well. Where on earth was he putting it?
“What?” Russell looked up at the faces round the table. “Ish good!” He slurped up the gooey mass.
Simon just shook his head and then laughed. Damien looked a bit green.
"I am reminded of the restaurant scene in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life." Remy said. "Only Russell has not exploded from overeating, well not yet. Incroyable."
Gene called for the bill and insisted on paying, saying they had planned on treating the British foursome from the beginning.
“I’m sorry we’ll be leaving by the end of the week, but I don’t think my waistline can take much more of this,” Miles grunted as he got up from the table. “This has been an excellent meal Gene; thank you very much!”
Simon got to his feet slowly. "Ta very much from me as well. Though I am in danger of not being able to fit into any of the clothing I brought with me. I may be forced to fly home in my pajamas."
Russell gave a polite little burp and beamed at Gene and Remy. “It was simply awesome! I wish we could comeback here again before we leave.”
“And when do you both leave?” Miles asked Gene as the three Tops fell in step as they exited the restaurant and began to stroll towards the promenade. “Didn’t Remy arrive before you did?”
"Yes, he did." Gene answered, before Remy broke in.
Remy, who had no wish to revisit the fact that he had thrown a bit of a tantrum, turned the conversation deftly. "We will be leaving tomorrow, I think, right?" Remy looked at Gene, who nodded. "We are, how you say, nesting? But first we need to find a nest, non?"
"Remy's getting shot sort of clarified things, for both of us." Gene leaned over and kissed Remy on the cheek. "No more jungle or bush clinics. I start a new job at a children's hospital in Atlanta next month and Remy will be going to work at the Centre for Disease Control next week."
"That is in Atlanta as well, I take it?" Simon asked.
"Oui. Instead of treating diseases out in the field, I will be studying them in a carefully controlled sterile environment." Remy answered. "And I will not have people shooting at me."
“Speaking of work, I think a healthy measure of farm chores will be exactly what we need when we go back home, eh Damien?”
Damien shook his head firmly. "I don't think so; I'm opposed to any sort of farm chores on general principle. I'll stick with my grooming business, thank you very much. Besides, I look dreadful in farmer's clothes."
Russell shuddered. “Never say you want to live on a farm, Simon. It is positively uncivilised to get out of bed before dawn. Not to mention what one wears ...”
Simon gave Russell a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "That is one thing, my lad, you don't have to worry about.”
Russell heaved a sigh of relief and slipped his hand into Simon’s.
"I'll return to my rare books store." Simon said. "It's peaceful, quiet and dusty. A great deal of my business is done over the internet these days. I have one assistant and Gwendolyn, the store cat. Terrific mouser."
“Listen to us talk. It’s like two different worlds, what we have here versus what we are going back to.” Miles remarked with a grin. “But I guess that’s what makes this holiday so special.”
"I believe that, in a nutshell, is the definition of a holiday." Simon mused. "Doing something or going some place out of the ordinary."
"Some place warm and sunny." Damien added. "With naked men striding about."
“Hear! Hear!” Russell cheered.
"Almost makes me want to sing out a hallelujah." Gene laughed. "You must take the trip out to swim with the dolphins and manta rays before you leave."
"And see the Pirate Museum." Remy added as Gene rolled his eyes.
“We’ll have to make a list if we want to pack in all the things we want to do. I swear I will go the full Monty at least one more time before I leave this place!” Russell announced. “We simply must!”
"Tomorrow, before Gene and Remy leave. We should get a photo of all of us." Damien suggested enthusiastically.
"Certainment." Remy agreed.
"Remy and I documented everything our first trip here." Gene added. "Thank the Gods for digital cameras; it would have cost us a fortune in film."
“I’m not sure of the photo bit, sweetheart,” Miles said, with a quizzical look at his eager lover. “Perhaps we could dispense with that and just – rely on our memories?”
Damien snorted. "Memories fade, Miles. You'll be glad we took the photos, not THAT many years from now, when you are sitting there with a drool cup, wearing adult nappies." Damien dodged a swat and laughed.
Simon shrugged. "Well, I have no problem with it, as long as my naughty bits don't show up on the internet."
“I think having a photo of all of us, nude by the pool, would be a great inspirational point for me when I am designing.” Russell said ruminatively. “I can already feel my creative juices flowing!”
"We could ask Jordan, or have Max ask him.” Damien suggested. "I bet he wouldn't mind and he's a professional and all that. I'd like to take one with Max as well. A sexy one." Damien could feel his own creative juices flowing. "Maybe a series." Oh yeah.
“Say,” Russell asked suddenly. “Do you think we should pose nude with Max, and get him to autograph that for us? If he gets famous enough, that could be worth a lot of money!”
"That's a brilliant idea Russ." Damien clapped his hands together.
"Actually, I think the whole idea is rather tacky." Simon said.
Miles was quick to agree. “Absolutely tacky!”
"Max signed photos for charity at the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco last year. He also participated in the Man's Hand Films spanking booth. All the proceeds went to Aids and Breast Cancer research. A dollar a whack, and you know how Max is, he took a lot of whacks." Remy laughed. "He wouldn't mind signing a photo for a friend."
Miles looked surprised. “Really? Well, that was praiseworthy of the lad.” He turned to Damien. “However, that does not mean I want you parading around nude, or taking nude photos, with him. I don’t intend to run the risk of those pictures making their way into the internet or YouTube, as they too often tend to do.”
Damien gave forth with a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes.
"I agree whole heartedly." Simon added. "Occasionally the more popular ones show up on the news networks as well, with the naughty bits censored of course. What if someone recognised you?"
“Prude!” Russell muttered beneath his breath. “But absolutely sensible!” he quickly added when Simon turned to him.
Simon said nothing, just looked Russell in the eyes for several seconds.
Damien stomped his foot. "Sorry, I seem to have a bit of a leg cramp." He smiled sweetly at Miles. "We're on holiday; we're not supposed to be bloody sensible."
“I think we can find a concession. An autographed photo – with you boys in your swim trunks at the least - would work,” Miles said. “Even if the picture made headlines, we’d have nothing to worry about.”
Simon agreed. "That sounds reasonable to me."
"I think I could live with that." Damien nodded and exchanged glances with Russell.
Gene was quietly observing the way the older men interacted with the younger ones. How, even though they might protest, Russell and Damien acquiesced. The dynamics was plain - it was clear who called the shots. He tried to catch Remy's attention, but his partner had his eyes focused forwards.
"I do not want you to get any ideas from this, Gene." Remy commented dryly.
"It's a bit too late for that now." Gene said and chuckled. "Mon coeur."


Someone must have spread the word around – it would appear almost all the guests came out to witness the photography session. Max chatted with a few fans at the edge of the pool, an open robe hanging from his thin shoulders. It was obvious he was wearing nothing underneath.
Jordan was giving some instructions to a couple of cameramen, who were fiddling with their equipment and shading their eyes from the sun. He came over to Max and gestured with his hands.
“My God!” Miles muttered, slightly horrified. He and Simon were standing across the pool, with those of the guests who preferred to watch the action from afar.
"Indeed.'' Simon agreed. "I don't know quite what to make of this. I do know that I plan to stay right where I am for the present."
“And I thought someone would bring out a Polaroid and just snap a couple of photos.” Miles nodded towards the knot of men around Max and Jordan, who were all either naked or beginning to strip.
"Well, I anticipated a bit more than that if Jordan became involved." Simon said. "You didn't see the set up in the porno lounge. The man doesn't do things by halves."
Damien moved a bit closer to Miles, while at the same time trying to put on a brave front. "There are more guests than I anticipated."
Russell looked undecided. “I didn’t think it would be such a turn out either,” he said, awed.
Damien grasped Miles's hand and squeezed. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. Maybe I could ask Max to do a more private one for us later?"
Russell let go his breath. “Good idea,” he mumbled.
Simon nodded. "That would be an acceptable compromise, providing Miles and I were present."
Suddenly their little group tensed as Max raised his hand and waved them over. “Come on!”
Damien looked at Russell, then at Miles and Simon. No one moved. He was being such a wuss, but he couldn't get his feet to move either. He shook his head at Max, who made some sort of hand signal to Jordan and walked over to them.
"Got cold feet or should that be cold willies?" Max grinned.
Damien stuck his tongue out at Max. "Neither thank you very much."
Acutely aware that all eyes were on their little group by now, Russell inched closer to Max and whispered into his ear. “We weren’t quite expecting ... this!”
"If you're not ready for this yet, it's cool. Me, I'm not shy." Max laughed. “I’m gonna do a few photos with Remy and Gene after this circus is over, back in the hotel suite. That might be better for you guys."
“Oh yes!” Russell breathed easier.
Damien's grip on Miles hand relaxed. "Ta very much."
"Great. In the meantime," Max dropped his robe. "Stick around and enjoy the eye candy."
Although they did not participate in the nude group photo shoot, they did enjoy watching the entire episode at a safe distance. As Max said there was much to appreciate - well-toned bodies, bronze skin, rippling muscles ... plus a bit more.
Simon had staked a claim to one of the lounge chairs. Russell snuggled onto Simon’s lap and whispered something to Simon which made him laugh.
"Keep moving about on my lap that way and we may have to cut this short." Simon nuzzled Russell's neck.
Damien overheard the last and snorted. He was amazed at how much at ease Max seemed. Damien just couldn't be that uninhibited in a crowd, even if they were people he was unlikely to meet again.
“OK boys, I think you’re up next,” Miles said as Jordan shouted out some orders and the team began gathering up their equipment. He patted Damien’s butt and gave it a squeeze. “Enjoyed the show, Brat?”
Damien snorted. "That's a daft question Miles. This sort of thing is a gay lad's wet dream."
"Well." Simon commented "This place has certainly lived up to its reputation."
“This has been the most remarkable holiday ever!” Russell exclaimed. “I never thought this would turn out to be so wild ... who would have imagined we would be surrounded by so much glorious naked flesh?”
"Well, I had imagined it." Damien laughed. "But never anything like this."
“Even if we had clothing optional resorts back in the UK, I don’t know if I would be comfortable there,” Russell said with a slight shudder. “Imagine running into old Mr Shaw from the post office!”
Damien made a face. "Ever seen those early nudist nature films? Full of old and grotty people. No wonder nudism never caught on in a big way, at least among heterosexuals. Except for the subcultures."
"We've certainly met an interesting mix of people - from doctors to porn actors." Simon commented. "Did you ever make up your mind about Remy, Russell?"
“Well, he’s not that bad,” Russell conceded grudgingly.
Damien rolled his eyes. "Remy's great, Russ. I expected to see naked men, hopefully gorgeous naked men, but I never dreamed I'd see a porno shoot."
“Oh yes, that photo shoot was a definite bonus!” Russell’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It was worth the spanking ... almost!” he quickly skipped out of Simon’s reach.
“And Max is the icing on the cake?” Miles asked with a raised brow
"I don't know that I'd call him the icing, maybe a candy rosette on TOP of the icing." Damien shrugged. "I like Max."
"You like Max and I would like to have a few words with his parents, if he has any." Simon chuckled.
Russell gave Simon a tight hug. “Thanks love. I’m going to remember this forever!”
Simon returned the hug and added a kiss. “You’re quite welcome. This has been one for the books."


An exhausted Damien leaned in his seat so that his head rested on Miles' sturdy shoulder, and Russell snuggled against Simon’s arm, while both reminisced on the flight home.
The private photo shoot had been lots of naughty fun, helped along no doubt by the excellent bourdeaux Remy had supplied. Articles of clothing had been shed by all, even Miles and Simon. Damien and Russell stared open-mouthed, positive the wine had been spiked.
“I thought ..... “ Russell started to say.
Simon explained. "Miles and I have decided we should forget that the Queen would likely not approve and go native."
Damien laughed. "Forget the Queen; I'd be more worried about Aunt Beatrice."
Miles had shrugged and winked at Damien. “I think the air here is contagious! Or something. I have been persuaded that the photos will NOT be circulated and no breath of scandal shall ever reach our English shores!”
And so it was that Damien and Russell got their wish and posed nude with Max for several erotic candids, and then Max had posed with Remy and Gene, the three of them sprawled naked among crumpled sheets. Simon and Miles were bullied by Remy into posing with him and Gene, again on the bed, with the sheets strategically arranged to show a bit, but not all. Finally, Miles and Simon posed with their Brats.
Jordan had been in a jovial mood, and seemed much more possessive of Max than previously; he certainly was lot more considerate than before. Then Jordan whispered something in Max's ear and Max grinned. He rummaged through a duffle bag and brought out a heart shaped leather paddle. Jordan cleared his throat as if he was about to make a speech, and everyone stopped talking and turned to give them their full attention. Jordan sat down on the bed, pulled Max over his knees and proceeded to paddle him briskly while the cameras ran. He was obviously no novice.
By the time he was finished, both of them were breathing heavily, and Max's ass was a rosy red. They had excused themselves while the cameramen put up the equipment and the rest of the party finished the wine. A grinning Max returned about twenty minutes later to give Remy and Gene a goodbye hug and get everyone's addresses.
They hadn't seen much of Max for the next couple of days. Then on their last day, Max had presented them each with an album of their photos, including a personalised autograph. Russell's comment had been 'best holiday souvenir ever.'
“That was some photo shoot huh?” Russell murmured dreamily, half drowsy, half exhausted.
Damien’s eyes were almost closed but he heard and murmured back. “Yeah, it was. And best of all we got mementos to take with us.”
“And we did get to go the full Monty again ...” Russell’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Damien nodded. "I think ALL future holidays should be taken at clothing optional resorts. I think there are a couple in Spain and you KNOW there have to be some in France."
The remainder of the holiday had been a blur of activities. They had done all the touristy type things like visiting the pirate museum, taking the boat out to swim with the dolphins, drinking lots of margaritas and sampling all the various cuisine offered in the area, not to mention relaxing by the pool any opportunity they got to recoup their energy. They did manage to put in not one but several clothing optional sessions at the poolside and having lots and lots of sex.
“Hmmm...” Russell moaned as Simon leaned down to kiss his forehead.
At the same time, Miles reached over and ran his fingers through Damien's hair. Damien smiled, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

t h e e n d . . . .