Chapter 10
ten
Isard checked the address on his phone. This was it: Volta d’en Dusai Street.
A stone archway off the Passeig del Born, dark as a cave in the gathering dusk.
It made him feel like he was stepping back into the Middle Ages.
He walked along the narrow street, counting the numbers until he found number nine, the last building before the corner of the next street.
He pushed the buzzer and waited. For a while nothing happened, and he wondered if he had the right place. But then there was a shout from above:
“Stand clear!”
And something hit the ground beside him. It looked like a rolled-up sock. He picked it up, and carefully wrapped inside it, padded against the fall, was a rusty iron key the length of his palm.
“Right-hand staircase! Top floor!”
He approached the door and tried the key in the lock of the heavy oak, two-leaved street door.
With some effort, it turned, lifting the stiff iron latch, and he was able to heave the door open.
Inside, it was almost completely dark. The cobblestones from the street outside extended in a wide passageway before him, what would once have been the entranceway for a carriage and horses.
To the left, a wide marble staircase ascended to the Principal or piano noble floor, where the building’s wealthy owners would have lived.
On the right, he couldn’t see any staircase at first, and wondered whether he’d misheard.
Then he spied a dark alcove, almost invisible in the gloom.
Sure enough, inside, a steep narrow staircase climbed into the blackness.
Access to the old servants’ quarters, no doubt.
Before beginning to climb, he explored with the light from his phone, and sure enough found a grubby button that when pressed, switched on a dim bulb set high in the wall.
Climbing the first flight of stairs, he came to a landing paved in red brick, then another narrow set of stairs.
He kept climbing, counting five floors in all, before he saw above him what looked like the door to the roof.
Beside it was another door, and standing in the doorway was Alex.
“My legs are absolutely killing me! Is that part of your warm-up routine?”
“All part of the plan,” Alex said, smiling down at him. He was wearing loose-fitting black cotton trousers and a red Chinese-style robe tied with a black sash.
“So you’re a black belt?” Isard asked. “I had no idea.”
“No,” Alex laughed. “We don’t use the belt ranking system. The color just goes well with this jacket.”
He stepped aside, inviting Isard into the space.
It was one large room, mainly covered with a vast expanse of rubber and tatami matting.
Beside the door was an area paved just in the original terracotta tiles, with a reception desk.
Benches and hooks all along one wall allowed space to leave bags and clothing.
“OK, now I see why you chose this place, though just getting up here may turn a lot of students off.”
“I use this space mainly to practice, while I try and meet clients at their own homes. But if I need to, I can bring a group here. They mostly see the climb up the stairs as an adventure. I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
“Probably too out of breath. Though I can’t see anyone complaining about such a hot instructor.”
Alex laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Keep it professional, Muntaner.” He gestured toward the matting. “Shall we?”
Isard dropped his bag on a bench and kicked off his shoes.
He was also wearing loose cotton trousers, along with a baggy tee-shirt.
They walked out into the exercise area. Facing each other, they assumed the starting pose and then in unison moved through the complete siu nim tau form before continuing through the other forms that Alex had taught him, including falls, rolls, feints, and attacks.
After forty minutes, they were both hot and sweaty, ready for a break.
Alex walked over to a fridge in the corner of the room and grabbed a couple of cans of iced tea.
“Let’s go on the terrace. The view’s amazing.”
Grabbing a key from its hook beside the door, they left the studio and opened the door to the roof.
It was a wide terrace paved in terracotta tiles.
Though the view wasn’t quite three-sixty, it still took in from the high hill of Mount Tibidabo in the north-west, through the Sagrada Família almost due north, Born Market and Park de la Ciutadella in the north-east, and then the wide sweep of the port and the Mediterranean out to the east and south.
The sea after the sun had gone down was a deep indigo hue, almost purple, with silvery ripples across its surface.
Only the hill of Montju?c in the south-west was blocked from their view by the stairwell behind them and a taller building beyond.
“Wow, you weren’t lying about the view,” breathed Isard.
Alex waved him over to a table and chairs set up under an awning decorated with fairy lights, and they sat to drink their tea.
“So, you’ve finished the filming?”
Isard nodded. “Yeah, it goes to production now, editing and stuff. Unless they realize they’re missing a scene or sequence. Then they might call us again, but they’ll try not to do that because it’s expensive to set up everything again.”
“And did it go well?”
“Valentí seemed pleased with me. At least that’s what he said. And you know he was thrilled when we finished the fight sequences because you were there.”
Alex smiled. “I had no idea I’d be called on to choreograph that, but it made sense after all the work we’d put in.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to the original fight choreographer, but that was a lucky break for you. Did I make a convincing Wing Chun fighter?”
“You made a cute one. Not so sure I’d be very scared of you if I met you in a dark alleyway though.”
“If I met you, no way would I be fighting you.”
“I hope not. Maybe some other from of physical… action?” Alex got up and went and stood in front of Isard. “So, just to be clear, our professional relationship is over?”
“Quite done,” said Isard, reaching for his sash and untying it.
“And you no longer have to run off to be a good boy for your film director?” Alex asked, letting his red robe slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor. His muscles gleamed from the sweat of their workout in the deep twilight, helped by the reflection from the fairy lights.
“I’m now free to be a total bad boy,” smiled Isard, letting his hands run lightly over Alex’s burnished pecs and abs, before his hands dropped to the drawstring on his trousers, undoing the bow. “Let’s hope we’re not rudely interrupted.”
Alex’s trousers dropped to the floor, revealing his strong thighs, and his cock, already swelling, encased in a pair of sheer pale-blue boxer briefs.
Alex flexed his arms, letting Isard admire his gym-worked body for a few moments.
He looked out at the Barcelona cityscape around them and down at the port, all the boat masts lit up in the dark like a Christmas celebration.
“The coast looks clear,” he said. “No balcony close enough to see what we’re doing, not in the dusk anyway.”
Then he reached forward and pulled Isard’s tee-shirt over his head.
Isard leaned into him, his lips and fingers finding Alex’s nipples, beginning to tweak and tease them with his lips.
As he did so, he stood up from the chair, exploring Alex’s torso again with his hands.
Alex raised his arms, linking his fingers behind his head, and just stood there, grinning like a cat that got the cream.
“Ah, yes!” sighed Isard, as he plunged his face into Alex’s sweaty pit, inhaling deeply, licking, and sucking the wiry thatch of hair under his arms.
Alex swiveled his torso, loving his role as the distant sex god, allowing Isard access to his other pit.
Isard went in there hungrily, even as his hands were fumbling at his own waist, undoing the drawstring on the loose cotton pants he’d worn for their Wing Chun session.
They dropped to reveal his hard cock rebelling against a pair of bright-orange elastic cotton briefs, offering a bulging paquet.
“Mmm,” murmured Alex. “There’s a package that needs unwrapping.”
“I didn’t want to embarrass myself risk getting an erection while we were working out,” Isard admitted. “My cock sticks straight out when it gets hard, so I wore the tightest briefs I own.”
“Yeah, they look hot,” Alex said, stroking Isard’s warm bulge through the springy material.
They moved closer to each other, rubbing their bursting paquets through their underwear, Alex’s dark skin in his pale-blue boxer briefs against Isard’s creamy complexion wearing those tight rescue-orange briefs.
“Sorry,” Alex said, grabbing the waistband of Isard’s briefs and pulling down. “I feel too much pity for your cock trapped like that.
Isard’s long dick sprang free and Alex dropped to his knees. Opening his mouth, he took it into his throat. Isard gasped.
“I thought you said you…”
“I told you I’d never had a boyfriend,” he said, pulling away for a moment. “Done stuff with guys, yeah, sure I have.”
He went back to sucking, leaving Isard to sigh, his hands gently holding Alex’s head, fingers caressing his dark spiky hair.
Alex worked his tongue and throat slowly up and down the shaft, choking slightly as he tried to plunge down its full length, then clamping his lips tightly as he came back up.
Isard bucked his slim hips, reveling in the hot action.
As Alex came right up, his lips and tongue just teasing the pointed tip, Isard linked his hands behind Alex’s head, pulling him down again onto his hard dick.
And so they went, establishing a rhythm until Isard froze, let out a cry and pulled back.
“What? Who is it?” Alex asked.
“No one. Sorry, I’m close to cumming. I don’t want to cum yet,” he whispered.
Alex stood up, while his fingertips still kept tracing the underside of Isard’s sensitive cock lightly. Isard gasped but held himself in, willing himself not to explode.
“Whew,” Alex said, leaning against the table. “Don’t scare me like that. I thought your dad might have appeared. But knowing he’s definitely not around, let’s finish what we started.” And he pointed to the floor between his feet.
Isard sank down onto his knees hungrily, and eagerly thrust his face into Alex’s crotch, inhaling deeply and sighing at the strong smell of sweat and musk from his groin.
“Oh yeah,”he sighed, beginning to lick Alex’s firm cock, which was sticking up straight, through his underwear.
He buried his nose into the crease between his thigh and his groin, sniffing and exploring with his tongue.
Finally, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly down, gently and reverently revealing Alex’s fat cock and balls, the second time he’d had them before his face.
“I’ve missed this,” murmured Alex. “You have no idea how much.”
But Isard was paying no attention to Alex’s words, rather to his cock, letting his tongue flick up and down its length, and also exploring his compact balls, causing Alex to sigh loudly.
Gently he circled the large head with his lips, tickling the underside with his tongue, then licking his lips to moisten them, before taking it deeper.
Alex sighed as Isard took him down his throat and began to suck him slowly and deeply, hoping to do as good a job as Alex had done to him.
Alex grabbed his scalp between both hands, guiding him in, then holding him down there, so his cock plunged deep down his throat, forcing Isard’s chin into his balls and his nose into his pubes.
Alex held him firmly that way for a long moment, before Isard began to struggle for air, desperate not to choke.
Just as he began to splutter uncontrollably, Alex released him, letting him draw back and get his breath back.
His eyes were red and tears were streaming down his face.
“Too much?” Alex asked, smiling cruelly. “You said you liked it kinky.”
Isard shook his head. “That felt great. More….”
He began to lick around the wide head of Alex’s cock again, flicking his tongue on the underside, down the shaft, and licking his balls, sucking them into his mouth.
He swallowed, trying to prepare himself for what was coming.
Then, as Alex increased the pressure against the back of his head, he took a deep breath and went down again, right to the roots, the way Alex liked it.
It felt dirty but fun doing this, taking himself to the limit of what his lungs and throat could handle.
Alex kept the pressure firmly on the back of his scalp, not letting him escape until he was good and ready.
When Isard began to choke and splutter, Alex just sighed:
“Oh, that feels amazing,” he breathed.
Finally when he saw that Isard finally couldn’t take anymore, he released the pressure, letting him come up for air. Isard was panting and spluttering, his eyes red and streaming with tears, but he was smiling.
“Oh my God,” he laughed. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Did you like it?”
“Like it? I loved it!”
Alex chuckled. “Found yourself a new kink!”
Isard grinned. “I guess so. Man, you’re going to ruin me.”
He got up from his knees and put his arms around Alex, hugging him as they kissed deeply, their wet cocks sliding together against their stomachs. Alex took hold of Isard’s slim hips, using his powerful arms to rotate Isard’s hips in a circular motion, so that their cocks rubbed together.
“Can I fuck you?”
“Ah… yeah. I always find it hard—”
“I should hope so!”
“No, I mean difficult, because I’m quite tight.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.”
And Alex was already reaching into the pocket of his discarded silk jacket and ripping open a condom packet.
“You came prepared!”
“You bet I did. I wasn’t about to let you escape a second time.”
“It was you who did the escaping.” And then he immediately regretted saying it as he saw a shadow pass over Alex’s face. How to make it better? “Yeah, you can fuck me, if I can suck you some more.”
Because he’d noticed that Alex’s erection had gone to half mast and wanted things to be brilliant between them, the way they were a moment ago.
“Sure. Get down there.”
And needing no second invitation, Isard dropped to his knees.