How To Recruit Men For Sex

He slowly entered my channel pushing deep inside me and squeezing my nipples. The other guy started sucking and stroking my cock.
*****
“Hello, you must be Shayne. I’m Mr. Caldwell’s boy, Jerome. Come on in. I’ll take your bag to your room. He’s out beyond the great room, in the pool. Go on back.”
With that welcome, I entered the world of Ted Caldwell, retired supposed master spy, the man I’d been sent to the New Jersey shore to interview over the weekend for Spy magazine. I hadn’t been looking forward to this assignment. I didn’t half believe in what Caldwell said he was and what he’d said he’d done. His book had sold well, but I put that to the sensationalism in it. But Alex Jameson, the magazine’s publisher, had been all keen on an interview—anything on Caldwell at this point in his book sales would help the magazine’s bottom line, I could see, so I couldn’t argue with that. And I was engaged to Jameson’s granddaughter, Denise, so I couldn’t very well wiggle out of the interview.
Ted Caldwell’s “boy,” whatever that meant—was a surprise. He certainly didn’t look the least bit boyish, although he looked maybe four or five years younger than me—barely twenty. He was a chocolate brown and obviously worked out a lot. He’d answered the door in just wide-legged white muslin pants that rode low on his hips, and he was barefoot. There was a gold medallion on a string around his neck. Other than that, he was all muscle and male model looks. I could see that the New Jersey shore was a whole lot more laid back in midsummer than Manhattan was. I wasn’t complaining, though. I was happy to be off the steaming asphalt of the streets of New York.
The wall toward the ocean in...