Mateo had returned to the bed, leaving Sebastian on the small balcony, smoking another cigarette. Smoking the cigarette half down and hearing Mateo snoring in low, melodious satisfaction, Sebastian arced the butt off into the void to follow the earlier one. Rather than satisfying him, Mateo's attentions at the balcony had only whetted Sebastian's appetites for something different, something new, a higher high. The sex had been casual, passionless. That apparently was enough for Mateo. It was enough for Sebastian--with Mateo--but he had dreams of more. He had dreams of being touched in sex, of trembling under the attentions of a man and being slowly lifted up to the heights and then slammed down hard. Thus, he had dreams of having sex with someone different than the two other men in this room.
The young America quietly exited the room, went to his own chamber, and put on a pair of tight jeans and a T-shirt and loafers without socks. He left the villa and walked the ancient, narrow streets to the central square and a bit beyond to the Java Café. He saw Doctor Coleiro sitting, alone, at a table, but he wasn't going to be the one to make a move. He picked out a table for two in the shadows, ordered a beer, and listened to the piano player keying soft jazz. A shiny saxophone hung on a stand on the stage, promising the new musician Doctor Coleiro had said would be here this evening.
"Ah, I'm glad you could come--that you understood my invitation," the doctor said as he approached the table and leaned down to whisper his greeting in Sebastian's ear. "May I sit with you at the table, or are you expecting someone else?"
Sebastian looked up at the doctor and gave him a small smile. This was starting off well. Coleiro hadn't taken him for granted--he'd come to him, and he'd asked for permission to join him.
"Yes, sit, please. I came because you invited me."
"You came for me?" Coleiro asked him.
Sebastian shrugged, but he smiled again, leaving the desired response that he was willing to come for Coleiro linger there in the air, both of them knowing it was hovering.
Coleiro chose to interpret this to have its most favorable meaning, and he made full use of the advantage. Before sitting, he put his hands on Sebastian's shoulder, leaned down, and let his lips brush against the young man's ear. When Sebastian didn't withdraw from that, he lingered, pressing a tongue into the ear cavity and then held the lobe between his teeth ever so briefly. Sebastian didn't pull away from that either. And with just those accepted attentions, both men knew that, if this continued to go well, Sebastian was going to let the doctor fuck him tonight. With a slight smile and sigh, Coleiro sank into the other chair at the table, pulling it around to close beside Sebastian when, otherwise, he would have sat across from him. He took one of Sebastian's hands in his and laced their fingers together.
Sebastian looked up to find the doctor looking into his eyes.
"Are you sure? When do you need to be back?" Coleiro asked, giving Sebastian a searching look.
"I'm sure he will sleep peacefully through the night," Sebastian answered, "and I don't punch a time card." That wasn't a definite answer to what the doctor was asking, but it was close enough to give him every hope, and when he brought their laced-fingered hands to his lips and kissed the back of Sebastian's hand, the young man didn't pull away from that either.
None of the other patrons evidenced surprise at the intimacy of this greeting beyond envying the doctor for his good fortune in being with the beautiful young man. The café was a frequent starting place for trysts--even among men. However, the music ruled in this café; conversation was to be minimal and almost imperceptible. But the piano player was transitioning out and the saxophonist was arriving and getting ready for his set, so there were a few moments available for quiet and abbreviated conversation. Both men knew why they were there, though, so extensive verbalization wasn't required.
"The extra pill?" Doctor Coleiro murmured.
"Yes, effective and put to use," Sebastian answered without much enthusiasm.
"Any ill effects?" Ever solicitous of his patients--especially those who were well heeled.
"He's fine. Sleeping like a baby." He also almost added "in the arms of Mateo," but Sebastian didn't know if the doctor was aware that Mateo was fucking Gainsworth from time to time. Having someone ride your erection and having someone with his cock up your ass might mean two entirely different things in terms of medical danger to a doctor. Sebastian wasn't one to carry tales. His position here was fluid. He wanted to avoid taking sides or engaging in any more maneuvering than he needed to maintain position.
"And you? Are you exhausted? No longer in the mood?"
"I'm fine. I'm here."
"But the coupling was not fully satisfying... for you?" the doctor asked, giving the young man his best look of concern and also letting Sebastian know for sure that the doctor knew who his patient was using the pills with.
"No, it wasn't."
"Otherwise you wouldn't have come tonight?"
"No, probably not."
"But you did."
"Yes."
"You crave constant attention? The Italian painter at the villa today said that you are insatiable. Li has said the same thing about your time in his house. He says your talent was in making the men forget you were doing it for money." The doctor looked hopeful.
"They told you that, did they? I suppose I am--insatiable, and that I don't just do it for the money. The difficulty arises in when it tends to feel all the same. I crave variety, and, I suppose, from time to time, younger cock--more vigor."
"I am considerably younger than Clifford," the doctor said, and, almost as an afterthought, "and am known for providing surprising pleasure, endurance."
"Special pleasure?" Sebastian asked.
"I'm a doctor. I have techniques and tools."
Sebastian visibly shuddered. "Other than his special needs, Gainsworth is vanilla," the young man said. "He's an old man--older than you are. I try to please, as does he, but he has little to give under the circumstances. The painter is... well, he--"
"I treat him--the painter, Mateo--for premature release," Coleiro said, saving Sebastian from finding the term himself. "He has asked if the pill would serve him when he is with you. He is contemplating starting on it, as I said that it could hold his ejaculation as well as his erection longer. I hold an erection quite well. There are edging tools and techniques at a doctor's disposal."
That raised another shudder of pleasure and anticipation from Sebastian. "Yes, unfortunately, that has been a problem with him--with Mateo." So much for wondering if the doctor was aware that he lay under Mateo too, Sebastian mused.
"I can cure that problem," the doctor said.
"For Mateo?"
"No, for you. But with Mateo, when you feel compelled to open your legs for him. I understand the position you're in--what you need to do to continue staying here in Malta. There's a term for what you have. It's satyriasis--the male equivalent of nymphomania in a woman."
"And there's a cure for it?" Sebastian asked.
"I don't know why a young, beautiful man like you would want to be cured--certainly those who lust after you don't want you to be cured. And I sense you need more than just penetration and anal possession--that you need special handling that excites and taxes you. Much of this is psychological. You can be trained to bring yourself on your own, independent of what your sex partner is doing."
