The Eroticist

Chapter 1 Duncan observed the mechanic from the open door of the double garage. Bent over the engine of Duncan’s vintage 1935 Rolls Royce, the man was completely absorbed in his work. It was a hot, slightly humid day, and conditions in the garage were uncomfortable. By standing in the doorway, Duncan was able to benefit from the faint breeze blowing outside, which cooled him and protected him from the worst of the heat trapped inside the large wooden construction. The mechanic, on the other hand, had no such luxury. His blue singlet had darkened several shades due to sweat, and the hair at the back of his head was slicked to his scalp. His jeans had slipped down a little, providing a tantalising glimpse of his rear end, and small trickles of perspiration slithered from the man’s back into the hair-lined crevice, drawing the hairs together into one dark line as they went. Duncan’s hand went to the erection tenting his shorts, pressing on it and squeezing it as he watched the mechanic work. He admired the muscles in the man’s arms, tensing and flexing. How the bronzed skin shimmered whenever the light caught the perspiration that coated it. And the round ball of his shoulders, so smooth and similarly sleek with sweat. But it was the dark line of the mechanic’s arse crack to which Duncan’s eyes kept returning. He began to fantasize about what the entire arse might look like completely bare. It would be hairy. He knew that for a fact because the small of the mechanic’s back was covered in dark hair and he could only imagine that hair would continue all the way around to the man’s balls to join the, no doubt, thick and luxuriant thatch that surrounded his large, veiny Italian c**k. And at the centre of the crevice, only an inch or two below where the waistband of his jeans currently sat, he’d find a ring of puckered flesh, perhaps dark pink in colour and probably surrounded by a ring of black hair. Duncan closed his eyes for a moment to picture it. Moist with sweat and with an intoxicating aroma. He sighed and opened his eyes to find the mechanic looking directly at him. “Mr. Adams. I didn’t hear you come in,” said Luca. Duncan removed his hand from his c**k and glanced down to see a dark spot in the fabric of his shorts where it covered the head of his c**k. “I thought I’d see how you were getting on.” Luca wiped his hands on a dirty cloth and stepped back from the car. “I think she should be right now. I’ve given her the once-over. The problem was—” Duncan held up a hand. “I don’t need to know the details, thank you.” Luca looked momentarily indignant. “Okay. Right you are.” He pushed the dirty cloth into the back pocket of his jeans. “Will there be anything else?” “Yes, there will. This is my day car,” said Duncan, indicating the Mercedes four-wheel drive barely three metres away from the Rolls. “This is also to be serviced. And as with the Rolls, any parts that need to be ordered, order them. You have the contact details of the dealership?” Luca nodded. “Good.” Ordinarily it was old George who serviced his automobiles, but at sixty-one and riddled with arthritis, he’d had to retire early. Duncan had ensured George’s retirement package reflected the decades of loyalty and hard work he’d provided, though it had meant finding someone new. Someone with the knowledge and skills to work on both cars and someone who would treat them with all the dedication and respect such luxury items required. Luca Battistessa was such a man. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Duncan stepped into the cooling breeze, which caressed his skin and brought down his body temperature to a more comfortable degree. When he was far enough away from the garage, he checked the spot at the front of his shorts and found it had grown. He rubbed it a couple of times before realising there was nothing else to do but to change. Whether or not Luca had seen it, heaven only knew. But what did it matter? Surely there was no harm in allowing someone to see the effect they had on you. Once he had peeled off his shirt and removed his shorts, Duncan pulled on a pair of loose-fitting running shorts. There was no need for anything more formal. He wasn’t planning to leave the house and it was too hot for anything closer fitting. He threw the discarded clothes into the hamper. The maid would take care of them on Monday when she did the laundry. With nothing else on his agenda, Duncan wandered out to the pool and reclined on one of the sun lounges. He would take a little sun, deepen his tan, before cooling himself in the water. He would have preferred to sunbathe naked, but with the new mechanic on the property, he thought it best to maintain some modesty. He closed his eyes against the glare of the Australian summer sun and went through the following week’s schedule in his head. He was an investment broker, and had dabbled in real estate. One of his top-end clients, satisfied with the money he was helping her to make, had once asked him if he knew a real estate agent who could get her the best price for one of her properties. Another had asked him for someone who could get a good deal on an investment property. Initially Duncan had provided the name of a good friend who ran his own agency, but they fell out over unpaid finder’s fees and it got Duncan wondering why the hell he couldn’t do it himself. So he got his real estate licence and set about doubling his annual income. After three decades of hard work, he could now afford to take things easy, although he was always on the lookout for opportunities. His client list was relatively short and he could afford to work just two or three days a week, depending on what was happening. In addition to his comfortable financial situation, and despite having turned fifty, he could still be described as a catch. He couldn’t take credit for his handsome appearance; those were due to good genes. Nevertheless, he kept himself trim and toned, and his dark brown hair had only just begun to go grey at the temples. He smiled contentedly. I wonder what Tunisia is like? He made a mental note to call his travel agent once he returned to the house.