The Old Men's Sex Club Murders Read online

  The Old Men’s

  Sex Club Murders

  Book 2 in a Series

  By Matt McGregor

  About The Old Men’s Sex Club Murders

  In Book 1 twenty-four-year-old Rob McKenzie has dreamed of having wild sex with men who are old enough to be his daddy or grandpa. After accepting a job and moving to Manhattan from a small town in Ohio he discovers that his attractive, grey-haired boss is part of a gay sex club that is looking to hire someone to be the group’s “boy”. Soon Rob is involved in all sorts of extreme sex that he’s previously only dreamed about. And he will do almost anything to please his new daddies and grandpas. However, Rob and a member of the group fall in love. The man wants Rob to get out of his contract so the two of them can live together.

  Chapter 1

  It was a week after Rob’s first meeting with the Old Men’s Sex Club. Despite his MBA, Rob had a strong interest in art. In fact, in high school he’d won a couple of prizes for his art at the Trumbull County Fair and even a second place at the state fair in Columbus. Since he had most of his days free with nothing to do and nowhere to go, he decided that now was the time to see if he really was any good. He signed up for a couple of online art classes—still life drawing and painting with acrylics and oil.

  He was working on an assignment—to draw a male figure from memory—when the phone rang. Rob picked up. “Rob McKenzie,” he answered.

  “Rob, it’s Paul.”

  Rob immediately put down his charcoal. What a surprise! He’d rather hear from Paul than anyone else he knew. Yet he wondered why he was calling since the Old Men’s Sex Club had strict rules about unscheduled meetings. Well, maybe phone calls were okay. Rob wasn’t sure since he’d been a member of the Old Men’s Sex Club—a special member, that is—for only a week. And he certainly wasn’t “old.” He was twenty-four but had been hired a week ago as the group’s “boy.” He’d always fantasized about many different sex scenes with daddies and grandpas. So he fallen into a situation he never would have believed.

  He was working on an assignment—to draw a male figure from memory—when the phone rang. Rob picked up. “Rob McKenzie,” he answered.

  “Rob, it’s Paul.”

  “Paul, it’s great to hear from you.”

  “Paul chuckled. “Did I ever tell you that you make me happier than anyone I’ve ever known?”

  Rob hesitated. “Well, actually…you haven’t.”

  “Well, I’m telling you now.”

  It was Rob’s turn to chuckle. “I’m flattered.”

  “Not meant as flattery, Rob. It’s true.”

  Rob heaved a sigh of contentment. “And you know how I feel about you.”

  “Let me guess.”

  “No need to guess, Paul. You’re much more than I could ever want in a man.”

  “Think we’re getting a little too mushy here?”

  Rob laughed. “Whatever you say, Dr. Barton.”

  “So…the reason I called.”

  “Yes,” Rob answered leaning back against the sofa.

  “Wondered if I might come over.”

  He sat back up, a frown on his face. “Here? To the apartment?”

  “If you don’t mind.” Paul was a former Princeton professor who’d quit teaching to become a stock broker. And he was one of the most handsome men Rob had ever seen. Totally masculine. Rugged, his skin the color of old mahogany. Rob had met a lot of men since coming to Manhattan from Niles, Ohio. But none that evoked feelings in him like Paul did.

  Still, he hesitated. “Isn’t…”

  “Yes, it’s against the rules. Well, actually, I’m not sure it’s against the rules to see each other. What’s against the rules—“

  Rob sighed. “—is any physical contact, right?”

  “Yes, and I can’t guarantee I can keep my hands to myself.”

  Rob shrugged. “Why not?”

  “You mean you don’t object to my coming over.”

  “Dr. Barton, you win the cigar.”

  Paul laughed, a rumble deep in his chest. “I’m surprised you even know that saying.”

  “You think I’m a dummy, do you?”

  “Far from it. Nearly a four point average at OSU. Almost made the Olympic team. Developing into a fine artist. Nope! You’re about as far from dumb as I can imagine.”

  “Thank you again, sir. But I’m not sure I deserve the accolades.” He paused. “So when would you like to come over?”

  “How about…well, how about now?” It was about 6:15. “We can order a pizza…”

  “Sounds like a wonderful evening, Paul.”

  “There is the remote chance that we’ll be found out.”

  “I suppose. But I don’t see how,” Rob answered.

  “You sure? You’re the one who has everything to lose. Not so much for me.”

  “My life of idleness, you mean?”

  “Your job; the condo; your lifestyle. All the time to do as you please.”

  “You know what you told me before.”

  “What do you mean, Rob?”

  “About breaking my contract with the group.”

  “I really wish you could.”

  “Isn’t this the way to do it? Seeing each other?”

  “You’d give up what you have?”

  “Been doing a lot of thinking, Paul. This job is the sort of thing I dreamed about—having sex—all sorts of sex with older men. But then… Why don’t you come on over, and we’ll talk about it.”

  “In two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” He chuckled. “Bet you never heard that one.”

  “You’re forgetting where I come from Paul. Small town Ohio.”

  Rob had been relaxing, wearing only his jockeys and a T-shirt. He hurried to the bedroom to make himself more presentable, grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet and his favorite knit shirt—blue and silky. He dressed and rushed back to the living room to put away his art supplies. He didn’t want Paul to think he was messy. Suddenly, he stopped. How silly, he thought. Behaving like a girl on a first date. He laughed to himself but still couldn’t help lining things up on the coffee table. Asymmetrically, of course.

  In a moment the doorbell rang. Rob felt his cock twitch as he opened the door to see Paul, the top three buttons of his light green dress shirt open, exposing a thick mat of curly hair.

  Paul stepped inside; their embrace quickly turning into a passionate kiss. Rob’s own cock throbbed as he felt Paul’s erection pressing against.

  “How about a little dessert before we order that pizza?” Rob asked.

  “I’m all for that,” Paul answered. He hesitated. “But are you sure—”

  Rob grabbed both of Paul’s hands and backpedaled toward the bedroom. “Is this enough of an answer?”

  Paul laughed and let himself be pulled into the bedroom. “Again, Rob, are you sure? You have everything to lose.”

  “Not true, Paul. I have everything to gain.”

  They didn’t make it to the bed before Paul grabbed the younger man in a bear hug. In a moment they were kissing passionately and stumbling toward the bed. Rob fell backwards onto the handmade quilt with Paul on top.

  “Think you should remove the covers?” Paul asked.

  “Covers?” Rob asked. “What covers? I don’t see any.”

  Paul laughed. “That eager for this old man, are you?”

  “You betcha.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What?”

  “Thought you were from Ohio, not Minnesota. Anyhow, enough of this jabber.” Paul broke their embrace, reached out, and pulled off Rob’s shirt. Soon they were completely undressed with the covers thrown back.

  “You know,” Paul said, “my interest has always been water sp
orts. Don’t know why. Have no explanation for that.”

  “No need to figure out why, Paul. It just is.”

  “Was, Rob.” Paul reached for him and pulled him close. “But no more. I love you too much for that. And all I want to do is make love to you. Water sports are sex, not love.” He chuckled. “Guess I have to change my ways.”

  “I love you—more than I could ever have imagined.”

  “Okay, we’re getting to much into that mushy stuff again. What we need is action, not words.” He quickly slid down and took Rob’s now fully erect cock in his mouth.

  Suddenly, Paul’s cell phone chimed. He let it go.

  “Go ahead and answer, I don’t mind,” Rob told him.

  Paul raised his head. “Can’t be that important.” He grasped the head of Rob’s cock with his lips, opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue from the tip to the balls.

  The phone stopped but then started again.

  “I don’t mind if you answer,” Rob repeated.

  Paul rolled over and reached for his pants. He withdrew the phone from his pocket and flicked it open. “Paul Barton,” he said.

  “Paul, this is Dale.”

  “What is it, Dale?” Paul asked, his voice filled with concern.

  “I have terrible news!”

  Paul motioned for Rob to come close and listen.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Harvey.” Carlton voice broke.

  “Did something happen?”

  “He’s dead, Paul. Harvey is dead.”

  Rob gasped. “Oh, my God.”

  “Is someone with you, Paul?”

  He placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “Should I tell him?”

  “Go ahead.” Rob took a shaky breath. “I can’t believe this. He has to be mistaken.”

  “What happened?” Paul asked.

  “He was murdered. Horribly, horribly murdered.” Carlton’s voice broke. “I—I…”

  “Where are you, Dale?”

  “At the gym? Where we meet. Where the club meets.”

  “You mean the basement.”

  “Can you come here?”

  “Of course.”

  “Right away. Don’t think I can handle this alone. You know Harvey and I…”

  “I know. You were partners, lovers.”

  “Oh, God, Paul, what are we going to do?”

  “I’ll be right there. I’m going to bring Rob along.”

  “I thought I heard someone in the background.”

  “It was Rob.”

  “You and he weren’t— Well, now’s certainly not the time.”

  “You’ve got to call the police,” Paul said.

  “Think about that, Paul. You know we can’t do that.”

  “So what are we—”

  “Please, just get here as soon as you can.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  Chapter 2

  I’ll show the sons-of-bitches. Every damned one of them. They’ll be sorry they fucked with me. But it was fun though, wasn’t it? Give old Harvey a lesson in what it’s like to be on the other end of things. Wasn’t really a lesson though, was it? Didn’t teach him a fucking thing because he’s dead. But I certainly showed him what was what before he died. That’s for damned sure. The good thing is I’m going to savor these memories. Savor them for a long time to come. And it was so easy. Calling him; telling him I had something very important to discuss, and I didn’t want to tell the others till I talked to him. And the dumb fuck believed me. So easy. I spied on him. Spied on all of them, if they only knew. Well, Master Harvey Winton, you became the slave, didn’t you? Though you surprised me. I mean that, Harvey, sir. Well, nobody’s going to call you “sir” anymore, are they?

  Tough man, huh? You always thought you were a tough man. Well, I guess you were to take everything I gave you with no pleas or begging, no safe words, and no fucking limits. Remember, Harvey? This is how it always played out, isn’t it? Except you weren’t in command this time. I was. I’m the one who beat the shit out of you. But godammit, I wanted you to break. But you didn’t. So I guess you were a man after all, not a sniveling coward, as I suspected. And I admire you for that. I really do.

  “Come in, Harvey,” I said. “Master, torturer. Once I stepped behind you it was easy. Pretty dumb excuse I used, but you fell for it. Make sure the door was locked; didn’t want anyone else stumbling in on us. Funny, isn’t it? You were so trusting? Too curious about what I had to tell you. So I checked the door and then cold-cocked you.

  You took a while to come around too. And I had my hands full dragging you to the table and strapping you in. Your weight was deceptive. All muscle. Weighed a lot more than I expected, But I did it, Harvey. I’ll bet it was a shocker to see me standing over you. You all trussed up in handcuffs and ankle cuffs. Damned tight too. I made sure of that. Then came the good part.

  ***

  “So what’s going on?” you asked.

  “Going to give you some of your own medicine,” I answered.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Just a little experiment.”

  “What kind of experiment?”

  “See if you can take what you dish out?”

  “But why you? I never tortured you—”

  “Beyond my endurance?”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “You people think you can get away with anything, don’t you?”

  “You people? I don’t understand.”

  “You’ll understand all right when I hear you start begging.”

  “So that’s what you want, is it?”

  “To make the master beg? It won’t be long.”

  “We’ll see,” you answered.

  “It starts with the boots, right. Always with the boots. But with you all trussed up, I guess will skip that part. But not the cum-stained jock strap you force on all the boys.”

  “They don’t have to take it if they don’t want to.”

  “Right, and then they’re blackballed, aren’t they?”

  “They know the risk.”

  “Do they?” I asked.

  “It’s a way to weed them out. The ones who are just into fantasy. So what’s the point?” you asked.

  “As I said, it’s an experiment. To see if all of you can take what you dish out.”

  “All of us?”

  “Every damned one.”

  “Why do you hate us so much?”

  “Hate?” I was surprised. “Why I don’t hate you at all.”

  “Then why—”

  “No more talk from now on.”

  “One more question.”

  “All right, I’ll grant you the right to ask a question. But only one. Isn’t that the sort of thing you tell the boys? No more talking except to call you master and say things to please you. So what’s your question?”

  “You expect to do this sort of thing to all the others, right? Well, what about when there’s more than one?”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I’m pretty smart, you know.”

  You laughed. That was a mistake. Before I might have been a little merciful, but not after that. “I have a high IQ, higher than anyone else’s in the group.”

  “Even Paul?”

  “Shut up,” I screamed and was ashamed for letting him get to me like that. This was, after all, an experiment. And everyone in the group was pretty smart, all right. But not as smart as I am. Off the charts on IQ tests. Even with MENSA. I forced myself to be calm, but I wouldn’t forget.

  “So how is this going to work? You plan to do the same thing to the others, right? How can you expect not to be caught? We’ll all know—”

  “But you’ll never get the chance to tell anyone.”

  “I see,” you answered, more calmly than I thought possible. But I could tell you understood. One by one I’d get them all. Somehow or another. Of course, after the first two or so I’d have to be pretty crafty. They’d all suspect the killer would try to lure them to the gym.

>   “And you plan to kill all of us then.”

  “Depends on how much you beg. If you snivel and plead, maybe I’ll show you mercy. Maybe not.”

  “Not good enough,” you answered.

  “We’ll see.” I took off my boots and pulled down my pants. Behind the cum-stained jock was my throbbing cock.

  My cock throbbed as I picked up one of my boots and shoved it into Harvey’s face.

  “Lick it. Lick the toe of my boot. You know like you always make your pussy boys do!”

  You resisted. I could see the defiance in your eyes. It angered me. I slapped your face leaving the imprint of my hand in red on your cheek. “Stings a little doesn’t it! Think how it must hurt the boys that you bring to the gym the first time not knowing what they are getting into but wanting to please you.”

  Your eyes still glared defiance.

  I took the boot and hit you across the face with the front of the sole. Defiance dissolved in your eyes as they filled with pain and turned watery.

  “Lick the toe of my boot!” I leaned my face down near you to deliver the words close to your ears. “You piece of shit!” I waited a moment. “Or do I have to break your jaw?”

  Vanity. You didn’t want your face mutilated. You stuck out your tongue. The first lick was feeble.

  “Show me you want to lick my boot. Show me you are my slave!”

  The threat of another whack across the face with my boot made your second attempt better, still feeble but better.

  “How does it feel to be the slave? Are we having fun yet?”

  “Get on with it,” you said.

  Those words were like a knife in my gut! You were still defiant. Still trying to be in charge. Bound hand and foot and still trying to be the master.

  I shoved the sole of the boot against your lips.

  “Lick it or lose your front teeth!”

  You looked at me unblinking as you stuck out your tongue and licked the dirty sole of my boot. It was not the clean sole that you made the pussy boys lick. No, I had seen to it that the bottoms of my boots were caked with unspeakable things from the street. Yet, you licked the sole of my book while staring at me with those unblinking eyes.

  “Enough foreplay, Harvey,” I told you as I tossed my boot aside. I picked up a wooden paddle. “You have used this on many a pussy boy. Now you get to sample how it feels to be paddled so hard your ass feels like it’s on fire.”