DISCLAIMER: This is the first installment of a work of fiction based on a popular daytime drama. The original characters of the actual programs are the property of CPT Holdings. As such, the images portrayed suggest nothing about the sexual orientation of the actors portraying the characters. Characters not under the domain of CPT Holdings are products of the author's imagination. If this suits your fancy and you are of legal age, sit back and turn on the television of your imagination. The author retains copyright of this material. The material cannot be posted or distributed without the author's permission.

© 2001 by W. Foster


By the time his flight landed at Genoa City International Airport, Thorne Forrester felt lower than a scum swamp. Although he agreed to take this trip on behalf of his family's company, Forrester Creations, in his heart he knew it had been an excuse to get away from them and Los Angeles for a while. He ran a hand through his sun-bleached blond hair in a gesture of frustration and futility as he prepared to deplane, barely acknowledging the flight attendant's "Thank you for flying Trans Global" as he and the other passengers in the first-class section left for their various destinations.

As he drove his rented Mercedes into town, his well-sculpted, gym-toned muscles fluctuated between tenseness and resignation. No one ever supported him the way they did Ridge. When Ridge and Taylor were married, his parents (especially his mother Stephanie) were ecstatic about it. Even when Ridge was waffling about his feelings for Brooke and Taylor, they still backed him up and urged him to stay with Taylor. But where was the family when he offered the support and love to Taylor that his older brother couldn't seem to make up his mind about? Where was the support when Brooke got over her obsession with Ridge and turned to him? Even that relationship was rocky at this point after what happened in Italy. Ridge, Ridge, Ridge---it's always about Ridge, Thorne thought as he felt his eyes start to turn green again. Maybe it was good to just get away from all the chaos and confusion.

Much as he hated to admit it, when it came to his older brother Brooke had a serious problem keeping her clothes on---and her legs closed. The fact that Ridge was now married to Taylor didn't matter at all to the Valley tramp. Even though a fluke had given her both the position of CEO and controlling interest in his father's fashion house, Brooke didn't hesitate to use them to scheme and manipulate her way into the beds of the Forrester men. After all, Eric Jr. and Bridget, his half-brother and half-sister, were a result of her dalliances with his father. His mother, as a result, often looked down her regal nose at Brooke Logan Forrester, her eyes calling her "slut," "whore of the first order," "husband stealer" and "raving tramp." And that was when she was being polite and not engaging in verbal catfights with the basely inclined Brooke. He had even been a co-conspirator in some of Brooke's plots, and where did it get him? Stuck in the rescuer role to Ridge's many leftovers, who usually dumped him.

If that weren't enough, there was Macy. She wasn't one of Ridge's castoffs, but she was the daughter of the head of Spectra Fashions, a cheesy knock-off fashion house wishing to be on the "A" list and a perpetual thorn in the side of Forrester Creations. They weren't quite Romeo and Juliet, but how many times could he marry and divorce the same woman before he got it through his head that it wasn't going to work? No, he needed a complete break from this madness for now. Somewhere, there was a message in all of this he wasn't getting, but perhaps he would receive it by being removed from the surroundings.

The next morning, as he prepared for his meeting at Newman Enterprises, he was determined to leave his personal problems alone and handle himself as the professional he was. Dressed in a navy blue summerweight three-piece suit from the Forrester Men's Line that hugged his 200-pound frame, Thorne finished reviewing his notes and stepped over to one of the windows of his hotel suite to look out at the sunny morning sky. It was nice to look at a sky that was actually clear of the smog layer that hung over L.A. The breakfast from room service was excellent, the staff friendly. The change in location and pace seemed to be working its magic already. With his thirty-eighth birthday coming up in a few days, it seemed like a very good idea to stay on in this mid-sized Wisconsin metropolis and celebrate it in relaxation.

He had only heard of the famous business tycoon through news articles and Brooke's meeting with him for her Brooke's Bedroom line. Perhaps being a step removed could give him a little objectivity. Mother and Dad held the man in high regard as the head of one of the largest international business conglomerates, although they were mortified (to put it mildly) over Brooke's scandalous behavior during her meeting with Victor Newman. Now that some rough times had been taken care of at Newman Enterprises, Thorne could bring a respectable image as damage control from Forrester Creations to pave the way for further business dealings.

He found a parking space in the subterranean parking garage beneath Newman Tower, gathering his materials and briskly walking to the elevator banks. As people got on and off during his journey to the top floor, Thorne kept telling himself to be calm. Victor Newman may be a living legend in the business world, but he was still just a man. He was so focused on the impending meeting that he was startled when he happened to look into the sultry eyes of a darkly handsome Italian muscle stud. From all the hours he himself spent in the gym to keep in shape, Thorne could appreciate other men with great builds, and this was one of them. The quality of the man's suit said it could have been one of Forrester's designs, and he wore it well. What was disconcerting to Thorne was the fact that this obvious gift to women was so brazenly undressing him with his eyes. Before the Forrester hunk had an opportunity to respond in any way to this unexpected attention, the elevator stopped and the dark-haired man got off, raising his eyebrow at Thorne in a Mae West come-on before he went down the hall.

By the time the elevator reached the top floor Thorne had regained his composure, but for some odd reason he found himself wondering what the mysterious man's pecs looked like. Shaking it off as idle curiosity, he went to the reception area and announced himself, pleased with his punctuality and the warm appraisal Victor's secretary gave him. He had been seated in the waiting area barely two minutes when she said, "Mr. Newman will see you now." This is it, he thought as he walked calmly and confidently through the door.

The Forrester heir did an excellent job of keeping himself from gasping in awe as he entered the magnate's vast inner sanctum. The dark woods and very masculine furniture quietly spoke of great power and wealth. This was an office people could get lost in, a place where companies were acquired and heads probably rolled on occasion. Lives and fortunes were, in all probability, changed with a simple phone call. If you got called on the carpet here, at least it was a lush one, he thought. A turn to his left brought the massive, polished mahogany desk into view, and his eyes locked onto the man sitting behind it.

He had read the stories of his rise from orphanage rags to self-made billionaire. It showed in the ruggedly handsome, weather-beaten sixty-year-old face, such a mixture of laugh lines and frown lines. His chestnut brown hair showed flecks of gray, as did his mustache. Today he had opted for a dark brown Brooks Brothers two-piece suit, but Thorne was sure Victor's wardrobe was filled with suits from the best tailors and designers in the world. When he stood up, Thorne drank in a powerful 6'1" body that seemed to tower over him, even though Victor was but an inch taller than himself.

"Thorne," he said cordially, extending his hand and capturing Thorne with his eyes.

"Victor," was Thorne's reply as he took Victor's hand in his.

Thorne felt as though he'd been struck by electricity in what appeared to be a simple handshake between them. As he looked into Victor Newman's dark, intense eyes, it was as though he were looking into the eyes of a hungry tiger despite the smile framed by the famous mustache. Those eyes seemed to have the ability to look inside him to some hidden aspect of himself, something even he didn't realize. Was this part of the Newman mystique, to be able to do this to people? Why was it he didn't feel afraid, just.....fascinated?

"How is your father?" Victor asked in his distinct German accent as he sat down and indicated a seat for Thorne.

"He's well these days," Thorne said, hoping that Victor wouldn't ask too many personal questions about the family.

"Good. Send him my warmest regards. Now, let's get down to business."

The meeting went better than expected, and Thorne was impressed with this consummate professional. He even had the impression that the feeling was mutual, and the time seemed to fly by before it was time for Victor's next appointment. Victor, however, surprised him by inviting him to dinner at Genoa City's Colonnade Room, stating that he had "further business matters to discuss."

Thorne wondered just what possessed him to arrive at the Colonnade Room fifteen minutes early. The private dining room in a five-star restaurant just didn't seem like a place to conduct a business dinner, but with a man like Victor you didn't argue. He had that unusual knack for making an invitation a command in the smoothest way, and one just made sure to be there. At least he'd had the foresight to bring the white dinner jacket, black trousers and matching accessories that made such a good impression at dinner engagements.

How can a man look so, so....sexy in a tux, he thought as Victor made his entrance. Wait a minute, what am I thinking? I'm supposed to be discussing Forrester Creations business, not giving him the once-over. And yet, again he felt that strange quickening in his stomach as he stood up and shook hands with the impressive magnate.

During the first course the two men actually did wrap up some loose ends from their earlier meeting. By the main course, without Thorne even realizing it, there had been a subtle change from the professional to the personal, even in the tone of their voices. That voice of his, that warm accent, he thought. How could a man's voice be so stimulating to his senses? Sitting across from him now, Victor the business tycoon was gone. A very personable, desirable Victor...desirable? Thorne felt his head start to spin. It was getting a little harder for him to breathe. Even though Victor Newman loved to play his cat-and-mouse games, Thorne could almost swear the man was coming on to him.....and for some inexplicable reason he didn't mind.

Nor did he mind when Victor so smoothly invited him to his new condo. Something inside him wanted to be there, to be nearer to this fascinating man, to do perhaps.....what? "Make yourself comfortable, Thorne," he heard Victor say as they entered the plush surroundings. "I'll be right with you." The sound of soft classical music coming from the stereo system seemed to be a gentle incentive to do just that. Putting his dinner jacket on the back of the inviting sofa, Thorne removed his tie, and on an impulse, took off his shoes. Sinking back into the sofa, the blond hunk contemplated the day's success while allowing the peaceful environment to envelop him.

He had only closed his eyes for a moment---at least he thought it was only a moment. When he opened them Victor was approaching with two brandy snifters, his tux replaced by a burgundy silk robe and lounging slacks. The man looked so good, he had to admit. The robe was open just enough for him to see some of his awesome chest, while the long sleeves graced his well-developed biceps and triceps. This man definitely didn't get that kind of build from the gym. Thorne could easily picture Victor Newman right alongside his hired hands, doing the hard work required for the upkeep of his ranch. Right now, though, his thoughts strayed to how Victor's body would feel up against his, and his manhood began to swell.

As he accepted the proffered brandy, Thorne was torn between hoping that Victor had and hadn't seen the bulge that was getting more and more prominent in his trousers. He didn't want to approach this hot man the way Brooke did, yet inside a voice said, "Just be ready for anything." To his secret delight, Victor sat down beside him and his robe opened a little more, enough for him to see a hard nipple. Could it be?

As Victor sat beside Thorne, sipping brandy and making small talk, he smiled inwardly with delight. The built blond next to him was his for the taking. It was all over Thorne's face that he was ripe for it, but uncertainty was holding him back. The shrewd tycoon hadn't missed the way Thorne's eyes had roamed over his body, even though he was trying to act like he hadn't. The growing bulge in his trousers confirmed it, and Victor's own shaft began to push out the jock strap he had on under his slacks. The time for games was over.

"You're a very astute businessman, Thorne," he said.

"Why, thank you, Victor..."

"You're also quite handsome. I noticed that the moment you came into my office," Victor added in a devastatingly sexy voice.

Thorne was mesmerized. "Victor, what are you...."

"A sexy man like you deserves to be kissed," Victor purred as he put his snifter down and wrapped one arm around Thorne's shoulders. "That and more."

He was nervous, but he didn't even make a token attempt to get away when Victor embraced him and gave him that first kiss. Even before it happened, Victor's voice and his penetrating but amorous looks of appraisal had sent Thorne's rational mind right out the window, and the feel of the mature man's lips on his radiated heat throughout his body. He had never dreamed that a man's kiss could make him melt like this, or drive his cock into a state of readiness he hadn't experienced since he was a teenager. This incredible man made kissing an art form, and Thorne let himself go as he fervently kissed Victor back. Their lip-locks were long, languorous, teasingly torrid. As long as he could get kissed like this, Thorne knew he wouldn't deny the legendary Newman mogul anything tonight.

As he kissed Thorne so completely, Victor slowly unbuttoned his shirt, rubbing his hand lightly over the younger man's firm pecs and washboard stomach. Thorne shivered with delight as Victor rubbed and then tweaked his nipples, ever deepening his kisses and putting the Forrester stud into transcendental bliss. His whole body burned with this newly discovered need for the passionate Newman. As he felt his clothes coming off one by one, Thorne felt an ever-increasing curiosity about his host's body, and his hands began exploring Victor's physique. It was hard, firm, so inviting to his senses. Tentatively he allowed a hand to stray down to the man's crotch, squeezing the huge bulge and then pausing in wonderment.

Victor broke their embrace and removed his robe, gazing at Thorne with a desire that caused the blond's cock to throb in his red briefs. Still keeping his eyes on Thorne, Victor stood up, untying the drawstring to his pants and letting them drop to the floor. As Thorne's anticipation caused his mouth to water, Victor slowly removed the jock strap that had kept him so confined for the better part of the evening.

If Thorne's mouth had been watering before, it dropped to the floor when he got his first look at the manhood that had kept so many women circling around Victor Newman like moths around a flame. It was hardening to full erection, and Thorne's cock responded with a growing wet spot on his briefs. As far as he was concerned, if there was a "Big Dick Hall of Fame," Victor would be in it. Twelve inches of cut marble beckoned him like a siren. The veins that conveyed the blood needed for this monument were thick yet beautiful. The triangular head was just slightly thicker than the base, and Thorne wondered if he would be able to get his mouth around it. The family jewels were equally impressive as they nestled in the chestnut-and-gray pubic patch that was Victor's groin, and Thorne felt a strange new itch in his ass. This was going to be an evening.

The Forrester hunk got up, practically ripping off his briefs to free his hot, pulsing nine inches for the mature man's appraisal. Giving Thorne a look of amorous approval, Victor closed the space between them and took Thorne into his powerful arms again, joining him in the moan of enjoyment over their bodily contact. Basking in the intimate embrace, Thorne sought Victor's mouth for another of his incredible kisses, delighting in the feel of the man's mustache against his lips. Everything about Victor's hard, muscular body felt so good. How he wished he had known sooner what being with another man was like, and the warmth of the tycoon's turgid dick against his filled him with heady satisfaction. Victor wanted him.

Suddenly he felt himself literally swept off his feet. Breaking the kiss, Thorne opened his eyes and looked around. He was no featherweight, but Victor was carrying him in his arms as though he weighed nothing. Seeing the lusty gleam in his eyes, Thorne relaxed and smiled mischievously at him, feeling that huge cock brushing against his ass as they headed toward what had to be Victor's bedroom.

The lighting was dimmed to romance level, and the king-sized bed welcomed them like an old friend. Laying the blond in the center of the bed, Victor looked down at him like a sultan with his favorite paramour as "Scheherazade" played in the background. Without saying a word, Victor proceeded to work his magic on Thorne's sensuous body with all the skill of a wizard. With only his hands and his mouth, Victor left no inch of the younger stud's body untouched except his shaft, and Thorne was so worked up he didn't even notice how much his raging hardon was leaking fluid. When he felt Victor's tongue on his virginal hole he yelped in surprise, shocked at the intense pleasure he received from an area he had never considered an erogenous zone. As though they had minds of their own his legs sprang up to the ceiling, giving Victor greater access to his love portal.

The tingles spread all the way to his fingers and toes as he raised his head up enough to see Victor between his upraised legs, enjoying himself as if he were a food connoisseur. He wondered if he had ever felt so turned on in his life. Not even with Macy had he been ready to climb the walls of ecstasy like this. If this was just the beginning, what else was this consummate lover capable of? In all probability, Victor Newman had forgotten more than all the men in Los Angeles would ever know about lovemaking. The man was driving him to madness from the desire. He needed more. He had to have more.

"Fuck me, Victor. Fuck me. I want your cock up my ass. All of it." Had he actually said that? Was he out of his mind? Taking something that was world class in size up his quivering hole? But he hadn't counted on what would happen when Victor's lips descended upon his manmeat. He had underestimated how hungry his hole was when it accepted the mature stud's lubed finger. And when he felt Victor massage something inside of him, he no longer cared. He tossed and turned his head on the pillow in a frenzy, knowing he was headed for something, and when he reached it it would be a blockbuster. If Victor had been hung like the Washington Monument he'd take it, his need was now that great.

Even on his hands and knees in the doggie position, Thorne felt so relaxed he didn't even notice the second finger Victor worked into him, and only felt slightly fuller with the third. He thought Victor had put almost a cup of lube into his ass. He looked back to see this most desirable mogul putting more lube on that exquisitely hard, throbbing love column, and all he could do was drool. Victor saw the look of wanting in the Forrester exec's eyes, returning it with a promising smile, shaking that rocket of pure passion at him before he lined it up into position at Thorne's winking manpussy.

Thorne now had reason to thank his older lover for all that lube, for he felt the pain when Victor breached his portal. In spite of it, he refused to tell Victor to take that formidable rod out of his stretching tunnel. The maddening desire to take this man inside of him overrode everything. And then there was Victor's sexy voice. Just hearing it above the background of the music caused him to relax and slowly take in more that cock. He tentatively worked his ass muscles, wiggling himself even further onto Victor's testament to virility as he felt the man massaging his back and his firm asscheeks. Just as Thorne felt the head of Victor's manmeat hit his special spot, the sensuous hunk of mature manhood plundered Thorne's ear with his tongue. Thorne arched his ass up to welcome Victor's remaining inches, loving the feeling of being covered by Victor, floating in the rapture of the moment when he felt Victor's crotch firmly nestled against his hole---his formerly virgin hole.

As he felt Victor's incredible love tool plowing his depths again and again, Thorne found himself moaning uninhibitedly in pleasure as his eyes locked onto the older man's like Velcro, hypnotized by the dark, sultry gaze. The man knew how to make love; no wonder so many women fell under his spell. Who wouldn't, he thought as he felt Victor hit his joy spot with nearly every thrust. In his thirty-seven years, no one had ever made him feel this good. He found himself relaxing his ass muscles to take still more of Victor in and tightening them as he pulled back, eager to increase the pleasure for both of them.

In the heat of his passion, Victor looked down with subtle glee at the blond stud groaning beneath him like a purebred dog in heat. He relished the hungry look in Thorne's eyes that made him thrust even harder between his sweat-soaked thighs, knowing how awesome the heretofore hidden need was in him. If there was one thing he was an expert at, it was turning out virgins who came his way, and Thorne was made to order. Once he had had his prostate massaged by Victor's humongous penis, the rest was like icing on a five-tiered cake. If Thorne's euphoric state was any indication, he would be panting after Victor all night and most of the next day......which would be perfect for the plans this "ultimate daddy" had to really bring Thorne out.

For some odd reason, in the midst of Newman's deep thrusts, Thorne remembered when word had gotten back to the company how Brooke had gotten the loan from Victor for her Brooke's Bedroom line...walking into his office, dropping her dress and standing before him in her undies. Since the business mogul didn't throw her down onto the plush carpet and take her on the spot, he knew that she'd probably have a cow if she were standing there at that moment, watching Victor plow his field with such enthusiasm. As the huge love column continued its delicious exploration of his virgin territory, Thorne groaned happily. Brooke's loss was decidedly his gain, and what a gain it was.

"Yes. Oh, yes," Thorne said huskily as the tempo of their coupling increased with Liszt's "Le Prelude." He felt as though they were in an erotic mist. Consumed with the joy of being taken, he worked his anal muscles harder, determined to give Victor the ride of his life. He had taken that incredible manhood of his with hardly a whimper, and the reward was the greatest ecstasy he had ever experienced. Who would have thought that getting fucked would feel like this? This was probably something that would have happened sooner or later, but he was so glad that it had happened with someone like Victor Newman.

Suddenly Thorne heard rapturous cries in German. He felt the love muscle embedded inside of him turn to granite. It was Victor, pumping quarts of cum into his newly deflowered hole. Before the Forrester fuckee could completely process what was happening he felt a hand on his cock, and the vivid colors of the rainbow flashed before him. His juice splashed everywhere. He practically shrieked Victor's name as the throes of climax totally took over his body. A cliff diver taking a plunge into the ocean had nothing on this feeling. Skydiving didn't even come close. He knew without a doubt that only another man could give him the kind of satisfaction he needed in a partner, that it had always been so.

Pulling Victor to him, Thorne kissed him hungrily, working his ass muscles overtime to get every drop of cum out of Victor and keep him inside his well-muscled body as long as he could. Oh, how he dreaded the thought of being empty, after the way his world had just been rocked. Happily, his prayers were answered. A few moments later, Thorne's hungry ass felt the calming strokes of Victor's still-hard dick as the smoldering billionaire rolled him over onto his side, spooning him into another round of dizzying heights of pleasure before he had fully descended from the first round.....

In the early evening a couple of days later, a burnished copper Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of the Genoa City Hotel to pick up a curious Thorne, who was waiting out front dressed in jogging attire. The day had been great. It had started with that wonderful feeling of waking up with Victor buried deep inside him, taking him in such a leisurely way. Indeed, after that life-changing first night, Thorne had no trouble at all accommodating Victor. A great breakfast and a thorough workout with the hot man in his private gym had the Forrester stud ready for whatever the day had to offer. Since Victor had to handle some business back at the office, Thorne capitalized on the opportunity to take in the sights of Genoa City. When he came back to the hotel, there was a message at the front desk: "Will meet you out front at six p.m. Athletic clothes. V." What was it all about?

He certainly wasn't disappointed when he got inside the car. Victor was behind the wheel smiling at him, dressed in sunglasses, a black muscle shirt, gray sweat pants, sneakers---and no jock strap. Thorne grinned as the vehicle pulled into traffic, thankful for the air conditioning that offset the ninety-two-degree temperature outside and wondering how he was going to keep his hands off Victor in the late rush-hour traffic.

As the luxury vehicle made its way out of the city and into the Wisconsin countryside, Thorne was immersed in the sounds of Wagner and Liszt, fitting music to play with Victor's cock by. Once they passed the city limits, the Forrester sex puppy wasted no time in getting the tycoon's sweat pants off, not to mention his own. He loved the feel of Victor's love machine in his hand, thick enough to just barely get his hand around it when it was hard. The two indulged in teasing foreplay during the drive, per Victor's wish that neither of them cum yet.

"Just where are we going, Victor?" Thorne asked as he felt his nipple being squeezed.

"A place that you'll like and remember," was Victor's cryptic reply as he felt his balls being massaged.

They had been on two-lane highways and back roads for about an hour and a half, but between the music, conversation and a generous amount of fondling it seemed like less time had passed when they reached their destination. It was one of those quaint lakeside resorts that were so popular in this part of the country. It could have easily been put on a picture postcard, especially the way it looked now, just an hour before sunset. It blended in so well with the wooded area surrounding it, and the lake was most welcoming for boaters, swimmers and fisherman. Thorne marveled at the comparative lack of litter around the place, and its peaceful ambiance reminded him of the times he went up to the family cabin at Big Bear. The fact that the resort was at least fifteen miles from the nearest town made it even more attractive.

Thorne opened his mouth in surprise when Victor just got out of the car in his present state of undress and headed for the main building. He nervously looked around before he opened the passenger door and called out, "Victor!"

The enticingly hot man stopped and nonchalantly turned to face him. "What if somebody sees you?" Thorne said in a self-conscious tone.

"Out here, nobody would care. Come on, Thorne, I'm getting hungry," Victor said as Throne screwed up his courage and followed him, dressed only in his sneakers. With each step he took, he admitted to himself that he liked this feeling of au naturel, and his view of Victor in this setting was most pleasing. Unseen by the Forrester gym rat, Victor smiled a Machiavellian smile, since he had rented the entire resort for the next two days, ensuring that it was well-stocked with everything he needed.

Thorne caught up with Victor as they reached the resort entrance, taking a moment to embrace the handsome man. "This is great, Victor. It's just what the doctor ordered. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Thorne," was Victor's warm reply as they stepped inside and approached the doors to the main lounge area.

Thorne was curious about the apparent absence of people. One would expect to see some kind of staff about in a place like this, at the very least a manager and someone at the front desk. Then again, he was dealing with Victor Newman. He had overheard a conversation at Newman Enterprises about how the man had rented an entire island for a honeymoon with his former wife Nikki. The possibility of his doing the same thing here was well within his capabilities. The thought of being alone with this mature stud in a place like this sent his pulse racing and his ass twitching. Could this be the plan Victor had for this day of all days?

They entered the main lounge, which was illuminated only by the setting sun. One could smell the rural quality of the place, such a refreshing break from the antiseptic, climate-controlled offices they spent so much time in. Just as Thorne closed his eyes for a moment to take in a breath, all the lights suddenly came on with a collection of masculine voices shouting, "SURPRISE!!"

"Happy birthday, Thorne," Victor said in that oh-so-sexy German accent as Thorne quickly opened his eyes, his mouth watering at the eye-candy feast of hot men dressed in little more than Speedos, thongs, and jock straps, all of whom gave him a rousing "Happy birthday." Victor, ever the host, took his time to introduce the honoree to this smorgasbord of manhood. First, there was Cole Howard, a celebrated novelist in his early thirties, sporting longish dark brown hair, eyelashes to die for and a toned, slim build. Following him was a fortyish blond with a receding hairline named Paul Williams, Genoa City's private investigator par excellence; his well-built, maturing body definitely held promises of delight. A strikingly handsome mid-thirties Latino, Tomas del Cerro looked over Thorne's body like an art connoisseur does a masterpiece, and Thorne drank in the author's inky black hair, his swarthy complexion, his trim, tight body---not to mention that well-packed crotch. The Winters brothers almost stole his breath away. Neil Winters, as it turned out, was Victor's right-hand man at Newman Enterprises. A devastatingly attractive African-American of thirty-nine, his deep honey-colored body looked as though it been in a gym at least every other day, massive but not overbuilt. His cashew-complexioned younger brother was undeniably what the kids called a "hottie"; to the horny Thorne, Malcolm Winters was a wet dream that came to life. Thorne wasn't surprised that the brothers worked out together, and he could swear that the fabulous photographer's flirtatious eyes were telling him to lick his pecs and suck on his tantalizing nipples ASAP. When the last man was introduced, Thorne broke out into a grin. Brad Carlton, as it turned out, was the smoldering stud that had given him the once-over in the elevator, and the Newman Enterprises exec's appraisal of the guest of honor was even more brazen than it was in Newman Tower. As Thorne felt his dick swell with each introduction, Victor looked upon the guests with smug satisfaction, due to the knowledge that every man in the room had had the intense pleasure of being deflowered by his oh-so-virile daddy dick.

When everyone had a glass of champagne, Victor beamed at the gathering. "My honored guests, I propose a toast to Mr. Thorne Forrester, on this celebration of his thirty-eighth birthday, a time of 'discovery.' Back in the days of polite society, debutantes were introduced to the world of society at a coming-out party. Thorne here is neither young nor a debutante, but this is his coming-out party, of a sort." Everyone chuckled. "And so, Thorne, happy birthday, and may your coming-out party be something you'll remember for years to come."

"To Thorne," replied the guests.

Thorne reveled in the blazing inferno his body had become as each man stepped up to plant his dick into Thorne's newly talented mouth, his willing hole, or both. Joyfully he and Brad serviced the lust-filled men, and as guest of honor he had the added treat of plowing the men of his choice. Neil Winters and Brad Carlton were the happy recipients of Thorne's hefty nine inches, their holes eager to take him in and keep him there as long as possible. Thorne also noticed that although Victor did plow him royally once during the party, he spent quite a bit of time buried inside Brad's spicy Italian body. Could it be that there was more between them than met the eye? Was that why Brad cried out like Pavarotti when Victor fucked a load of salty-sweet cream out of him?

While the men took a snack break to fortify their bodies and quench a healthy thirst, Victor came over and ran his hands over the honoree's pecs. "Well Thorne, how do like your little birthday surprise?" he purred.

"I haven't felt this good in ages," was Thorne's heartfelt reply. "How did you know what I needed?"

"Experience, my boy, experience," Victor said. "You don't get to where I am without knowing how to size up a person. You, Thorne, were like Mount St. Helens waiting to erupt." He reached around and grabbed a handful of Thorne's buns. "And when you return to Los Angeles, this is something you'll want to have filled regularly."

Thorne let out a dreamy sigh. "I know, Victor. Believe me, I know."

"So Thorne, do you have any other requests for your birthday? Tonight, your wish is my command," Victor said as the others began to gather around them.

Heady with the sexual energy in the room, Thorne said, "Just one."

"And what is that?"

Thorne's lust-clouded eyes looked dead at Victor. "I want to watch you and Malcolm fuck each other."

Victor's countenance turned so stern and serious that Thorne was worried that he'd crossed some line with his boldness. Then, slowly, a sultry smile appeared on the billionaire's face and crinkled to his eyes. Without saying a word, Victor beckoned for Malcolm to join him on a nearby divan. He got on his hands and knees, while the younger Winters brother spread his hard cheeks and applied copious amounts of lube to Victor's winking pucker.

Thorne relaxed on one of the oversized cushions next to Neil, eagerly anticipating Malcolm and Victor getting it on. Lazily he began to stroke his cock while thinking about it. The ultimate daddy and a walking wet dream of a Black man teamed up---and between them lay twenty-five inches of beautiful manmeat. For the Forrester stud, this was a fantasy night come true. His mouth fell open in awe as Malcolm took his gleaming thirteen inches of cashew-colored love tool and slowly guided it into the older man's back door. He felt his own juicy hole twitch at the memory of how expertly Malcolm had mounted him and made him see stars and supernovas. He figured that Victor Newman wasn't a man that got topped very often, but if he was feeling any pain he certainly didn't show it other than a grunt. Pleasure, however, was another story. When Malcolm was firmly docked inside the mature hunk up to the pubic hairs, an unmistakable sigh of passion came from Victor's mouth. Thorne knew that sigh well---he'd done it countless times in the last few days when his magic button was massaged. He glanced around at Neil and the others, all of them sporting renewed hardons that they stroked while watching the titillating sight. Tomas was on the other side of him, moaning as he jacked himself with one hand while three fingers of his other hand were inside his manhole, no doubt to fill the emptiness left by Victor's rod just a short time ago. If Thorne had any doubts about the corporate giant's ability to recharge so quickly, they were dispelled as he saw that pole rise to its majestic beauty, its owner relishing that exquisite feeling of being filled to the brim with dick.

Even when he was getting plowed, Victor the master was still in charge. From his mouth, "Fuck me" was a command, and the gorgeous Black man drilling him willingly did everything Victor ordered to increase the pleasure for them both. As the breathing got heavier in the room, Thorne almost wished that this event was being videotaped---it certainly was something he wouldn't mind watching again. And to think that three days ago it wasn't even a conscious possibility. The man was so right---now that he knew the ecstasy of a man's shaft filling his tunnel, he would probably be out searching for the man with the right qualifications as soon as he landed back home.

As for the present scene before him, there was no denying that the mighty Newman loved every inch of cock that Malcolm was pumping in and out of his hard, work-toughened body. Victor himself even wondered how he had gone so long---ages, in fact---without the joy of getting fucked like this, and by someone with a piece of equipment more impressive than his. His hole swallowed Malcolm's monolithic dick as though it had been on a starvation diet. Endorphins flooded his body. He bucked his ass back to take in even more cock, urging the studly photographer to drill him harder and deeper. As Malcolm's penetrations stirred his manmeat to a higher level of arousal---if that were possible---Victor made a mental note to have Brad and Malcolm sandwich him on future occasions.

After Thorne thought his eyes would go up in flames from the erotic dance, Malcolm pulled his still rockhard monument all the way out of Victor's greedy hole. Just seeing the freshly fucked chute made Thorne massage himself a little faster, his tongue itching to bathe the portal into a grabbing frenzy. A moment later Victor rolled over onto his back, his twelve-inch tribute to manhood throbbing proudly in the air. Every man in the room, including Malcolm, was drooling over it, waiting for the next phase.

"Climb on it," Victor said lustfully.

Malcolm's very muscular, luscious cakes jiggled in anticipation as he sensuously prepared his manpussy with lube, giving Victor wicked looks of promise that stirred the man's libido even more. The thin sheen of sweat on his body made the photographer feel even more supple as he straddled Victor's hips and steadily lowered himself. "Ohhhh man, you feel so fuckin' good," he sighed as his ass rested on Victor's short hairs. As the Newman master reached up to massage his nipples into hardness, the Winters hottie rode him like a seasoned ranch hand, his steel-hard dick almost slapping his chest and leaking fluid as a result of the overwhelmingly stimulating internal massage he was getting.

The sexual tension in the room was building. Malcolm and Victor's lusty cries were getting to everyone. Thorne couldn't take it anymore and guided Neil's armed torpedo back into his warm, slick hole. Brad lifted his legs and spread his cheeks, his winking, ever-ready love tunnel begging Tomas to mount him. Cole pulled Paul onto his side, lifting one of his sturdy legs up while he slid his rod into Paul's steaming depths. The couples jockeyed for positions around the divan where Victor and Malcolm were steadily heading for that tidal wave of blissful release, basking in the simultaneous sensations of seeing what they felt.

Malcolm felt as though he'd been transported to another world. The sensations Victor Newman's fuckpole created in his tunnel of love were nothing short of incredible. As he felt the hot mogul's hands roaming over him, he wouldn't have cared if Victor had wanted to take him on the fifty-yard line at Lambeau Field during half-time. He remembered so vividly the time he went to Victor's office, and the horny tycoon had told his secretary to hold all calls. Knowing that getting past her would be like getting past a kennel full of pit bulls, Victor had plowed him all over the office for nearly an hour. The Black cutie had found himself giggling with delight in the elevator when he left, and during his photo shoot later that day his models all wondered what had put him in such an exceptional mood. Truly, Victor and his mind-blowing dick had worked wonders on him---then and now. Malcolm worked his hips, lovingly milking the warm tribute to manly delight with his manpussy; it was like he couldn't get enough. That paranoid ex-wife of his had actually done him a favor when she divorced him, not to mention the scheming ex-girlfriend that was now blissfully out of his hair. Malcolm wiggled his tongue provocatively at the amorous man beneath him, reveling in the touch of the Newman hunk's hands all over his sweaty body. Perhaps he'll let me have another crack at that tight booty of his, he thought. The dude is just so hot! And then he can dick me again, maybe by the lake this time......

It wasn't long before Victor's pulsating cock hit Malcolm's hot button one time too many, and the cashew-colored hunk let out a scream. His dick became a rocket launcher, his cum firing in rapid spurts high into the air. The squeeze play of Malcolm's internal muscles was enough to push Victor over the limit, and he groaned his way into emptying a seemingly endless reservoir of seed into the younger man's tunnel. More cries of orgasmic release and a flood of love juice came from the spectators to augment this "match of the titans" like a chain reaction, until everyone was sated and happy.

Thorne found himself pleasantly squirming in his seat on the return flight to Los Angeles. His mind was filled with memories of the most incredible days of his life in Genoa City, not only because of a successful business deal, but Victor Newman himself. If he had his choice, Victor would be taking him night after night after night. However, after seeing the way Victor and Brad Carlton went at it during his birthday bash he knew that Brad would always be Victor's favorite. Still, he had so enjoyed being ravished by all the sexy men Victor had invited for the soiree, and his manhood and his love chute responded at the mere thought of it.

He felt insatiable. There was only one Victor Newman, but there had to be a man in L.A. who could come close to satisfying this need inside him that had been dormant for so long. Who cared about Ridge anymore? So what if Mother can't stand Brooke? Maybe she'd rather see me with someone like Giovanni than Brooke, he thought, chuckling to himself as he reached under the sport coat on his lap to massage the bulge in his slacks. Come to think of it, it might not be a bad idea to check him out and see if I'm getting the right signals......


This is my first work in this genre, and I would like to hear from you out there. Make sure you include "Bold & Beautiful Men" in the "Subject" area of your e-mail so I can readily identify it. If you plan on contacting me to flame, it will be ignored and deleted. Comments can be sent to: wdfoster@hotmail.com

Have a good one!