The Show’s Hero Ended Up on His Knees Before Two Men

Damián Roca had just saved half the city, or so it seemed that carnival night. The smoke from the final act drifted away over the square, and the applause rose to the balcony where he stood waving with his arms open, still wearing the showman’s cape that had made him famous across half of Europe.

Tomás watched him from below, wearing the reflective vest of a volunteer and with his pulse racing. He was twenty-three and had signed up for the festival security operation without imagining he would end up a meter from the man he had admired for months.

Damián was everything he wanted to become: big, confident, with that neatly trimmed brown beard and that voice that made every sentence sound important. During setup he had treated him with a friendliness Tomás considered a privilege, almost like an older brother’s.

“How’s it going down there, kid?” he asked when he came down from the stage, giving his cheek a light tap. “You held your own like a pro.”

“It was… incredible,” Tomás stammered. “When the structure started burning I thought we were all going down.”

“Relax. That’s what I’m here for.” He smiled. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got to celebrate the victories.”

What Tomás didn’t know was that there was no victory to celebrate. The controlled fire, the last-minute rescue, all of it was part of a carefully rehearsed setup by Damián and a team of disgruntled technicians who had been fired by a major production company. As the boy followed him, spellbound, a voice crackled in his earpiece hidden beneath his beard.

“We’re not ready yet, Damián,” Mateo said. “Don’t come back yet. Buy us some time.”

Shit. He wanted to yell at him, but he kept his smile intact. When you spent your day lying, you learned how to keep up appearances no matter what.

“You know what?” he told Tomás. “My hotel is right nearby. Let’s go there. We’ll be more comfortable.”

***

The suite was a luxury loft, huge, with windows looking out over the city’s rooftops and an enormous bed in the back. Tomás stopped dead by the door, not daring to touch anything, while Damián tossed the cape onto the leather sofa.

“Were you expecting something more modest?” he laughed. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take off this clown armor and have a quick shower. I won’t be long.”

As soon as he shut the bathroom door, he wrestled with the costume to rip it off. He removed the earpiece and slapped it onto the sink, fed up with it buzzing in his ear all day. He turned on the tap, let the water run hot, and stepped under the spray with a groan of pleasure.

His body was massive and very hairy: sculpted pectorals and a firm belly covered in brown hair, his back and testicles shaved, the rest of him like a bear. And, above all, he had a beast of a cock, thick and long, ready for a fight.

He came out, stood in front of the mirror, and tied a towel around his waist, where a good bulge was outlined. He thought of the rookie waiting outside, of how flushed he had gotten every time he looked at him during setup. This would be easy. A kid like that, all admiration, would eat from his hand.

“Let’s do this,” he muttered at his reflection, smiling with confidence.

***

He came out into the suite wearing only the towel, showing off his package. Tomás hadn’t moved or sat down; he was still standing, too polite to do otherwise, and when he saw Damián almost naked, his eyes went wide.

“Sorry,” Damián said, crossing the room barefoot. “After a night like this, you can’t imagine how badly I wanted to get all that off. Do you want to shower too?”

“No,” the boy said, alarmed, unable to take his eyes off that hairy torso. “Thanks, really… but I shouldn’t.”

“Suit yourself.” He sank onto the sofa and slapped the cushion beside him. “Come on, sit down. We’re both tired.”

Tomás sat, stiff as a board. Damián sprawled as much as the towel allowed, stretched out with a satisfied “mmm,” and put his hands behind his head, showing off his hairy armpits without the slightest shame.

“You know? Where I come from, this is almost a tradition,” he said. “Getting naked, relaxing, being yourself. When we win something big, we celebrate in private. No clothes in the way. It helps you let go of tension, take my word for it.”

“Wow,” Tomás murmured, impressed and very uncomfortable. “That sounds… nice.”

“It’s pretty common back home.” Damián lowered his voice, melancholy. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember I’m far from home, that people here don’t understand certain things.”

“It must be hard being so far away,” the boy said, suddenly forgetting his nerves and genuinely feeling sorry for him.

I’ve got him. Damián thought. The faraway-home story was a damn good excuse; with that he’d convince even the most pious saint.

“Look, Tomás, I get it. The first time after a big night I was scared shitless too, and incredibly uncomfortable. But it’s just flesh.” And before the boy could react, he dropped the towel.

His cock, hard and thick, with a pair of huge balls, swung a hand’s breadth from Tomás’s face.

“See? Nothing special. We’re all human, we’re not made of stone.”

The boy’s face was priceless. He swallowed and couldn’t tear his eyes away from that dick.

“Yeah, but… you’re… older,” he managed to say.

“And what does that matter?” Damián grabbed his cock at the base so he could get a good look. “It’s liberating, trust me. And hey, it’s just you and me here. Nobody has to know anything.”

“Nobody?” Tomás repeated, finally lifting his gaze to his eyes.

“Nobody,” he promised, bringing his face close to his. “A rite among those who risk it together.”

Tomás looked at that hard cock, with a drop shining at the tip, and then back at the man’s eyes. And then he closed his own and parted his lips.

They kissed.

The boy barely moved, inexperienced, but Damián’s tongue slipped into his mouth and his answered by instinct, while a huge hand squeezed the bulge in his trousers. The beard scraped his face. It was strange, but he liked it. He liked it a lot.

He raised his hand and set it on that hairy, hot chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath. He moved down slowly over the belly until his fingers closed around the cock. It was burning hot, and hard as a rock.

“You like that?” Damián asked with a smile, lifting his arm to offer a close-up of that hairy armpit. “Come on, come here.”

He guided him by the back of the neck to his armpit, and the boy started sniffing and licking, lost in the smell of sweat and man. Damián groaned, satisfied.

“Very good, just like that… That’s it.”

“Take this off,” he murmured next, tugging at Tomás’s vest and shirt until he was left bare-chested, with young, well-defined muscles. “Now come on. Suck me off. I’m going to teach you how things are done.”

The boy dropped to his knees on the carpet. Damián held his head and brought him to his cock.

“Open wide. Like this… fuck, that feels good!”

Tomás took him halfway in before gagging and pulling away, coughing. Damián smiled, patient.

“Don’t bail now, rookie. This has only just begun.”

And the boy went back at it. He gagged more, but this time he didn’t back off: he endured, licked, sucked clumsily but eagerly, looking up at him from below while Damián stroked his hair.

“That’s it… such a man,” he panted, delighted. “Very good…”

***

What Damián hadn’t expected was the change. When he put both hands on the boy’s head and started driving his hips to fuck Tomás’s throat without mercy, Tomás held out for a while, choking, until with a sharp yank he broke free and sprang up.

He stood in front of him, breathing hard, eyes blazing. There was no trace left of the polite, trembling kid from a moment ago.

“Wow,” Damián said, leaning back on the sofa and massaging his spit-slicked cock. “Not bad, kid. You’ve got potential… if you find the right teacher.”

“You asked for it,” Tomás replied, very seriously.

He kicked off his sneakers and stripped off his pants in one pull, and his cock sprang free, young, thick, hard as a mast. He crossed the distance between them and planted a brutal, savage kiss on him, nothing like his earlier shyness. When they separated, Damián knew the game had just gotten serious.

“Come on,” the showman teased, amused. “Show me what you’re capable of, rookie.”

He didn’t have to repeat himself. Tomás grabbed him by the neck with a force that left him breathless and shoved him downward, forcing him to bend his knees until he was kneeling on the floor. Now it was the boy looking down from above. Now his cock was in front of the face of the great Damián Roca.

“Fuck!” he muttered, surprised by the kid’s strength. And, to his own surprise, the shock shot his cock up to a hundred.

“Now you’re going to suck my cock… master,” Tomás said, with a mocking tone Damián didn’t know he had.

Damián looked at him, sincerely impressed. Is this really the same one who was trembling five minutes ago? The truth was, he loved it. He loved being dominated, being ridden hard, being treated like just another slut. The more, the better.

“It’d be an honor to suck your cock,” he said without blinking.

Tomás brought him to his dick with as much roughness as Damián had shown before, and this time it was Damián who went wide-eyed when he felt that cock sliding down his throat. He gagged, tried to pull his head back, but the boy tightened and forced him to take another span.

“Oooh…” Tomás muttered, not easing up. “That’s it, just like that.”

And Damián, the city’s hero, the man who called the shots, sucked submissively, delighted, yielding without resistance. He had just gone from master to slut, and he couldn’t have been happier.

***

Then there was a knock at the door.

“Mr. Roca?” said a voice from the other side. “I’ve brought you a gift from the hotel.”

Damián pulled his cock out of his mouth and saw the panic on Tomás’s face. He tied the towel back on and went to open the door, expecting to get rid of the waiter in two minutes.

In the hallway stood a platinum blond guy, carefully styled, with a goatee and blue eyes, around his mid-twenties. He wore a black tuxedo and was holding a bottle of champagne.

“Compliments of the house,” he said, looking him up and down with the calm of someone receiving a half-naked guest. Before Damián could take the bottle, the guy slipped inside with surprising agility. “He deserves no less, sir. I’ll set it down for you.”

“You don’t need to…” Damián began, but the waiter had already moved to the table and come face-to-face with Tomás, naked in the middle of the room, his cock still rock hard.

There was a second of total silence. Tomás was covering himself as best he could, red as a tomato. Damián shut the door with a huff of annoyance.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” the boy said.

“Oh, isn’t it?” The blond smiled, with a brazen, utterly unbothered air. “And what does it look like?”

“Listen,” Damián cut in, stepping closer; the towel unraveled and fell to the floor, and his hard cock came back out to play. “You could be a good guy and keep the secret of what you saw. Would you do us that favor?”

The blond didn’t take a single step back.

“Of course,” he said. And with one smooth movement he pressed against him and kissed him.

Tomás stared, unable to believe it, while the waiter’s hand went down to massage the showman’s shaved balls. Damián growled with pleasure and returned the kiss. When they separated, the blond looked at him with a sharp smile.

“Is this what you want?” Damián asked.

“Oh, yes,” the other man nodded. “I’d love to try the ass of the mighty Mr. Roca.”

“I think we can make room for one more.” Damián turned to Tomás, with the blond’s hand still on his ass. “What do you say, rookie?”

Tomás, too turned on to hesitate, could only nod.

“Great,” said the waiter, extending his hand. “Iván. A pleasure.”

***

Within minutes, Iván had stripped off the tuxedo and was showing a pale, firm, muscular body not unlike Tomás’s. The three of them took turns kissing, hands roaming over torsos, hard cocks bumping against each other, while Damián fondled both of them with a hungry smile.

“What a pair of well-built stallions,” he murmured, letting his gaze roam over the three erections. “This is promising.”

Iván held his face with one hand and looked at him fiercely.

“I think now you’re the one who’s going to suck my dick,” he said, and shoved him by the shoulder. “On your knees, come on.”

Damián didn’t argue. He knelt between the two young men, submissive, and latched onto the blond’s cock while Tomás, standing off to one side, jerked off watching everything. The one who was supposedly the strong man, the hero, was sucking like a compliant slut, moving from one cock to the other, licking balls, letting himself be used.

“Look how much he’s enjoying it,” Iván told Tomás, amused. “This is what he really wants. Should we give him what he’s after, the two of us?”

“I’d say yes,” the boy answered, with no trace of shyness left.

“Mmm!” Damián moaned, thrilled by the idea.

***

They took him to the huge bed in the back. Damián got on all fours in the center of the mattress, exposing that hairy, muscular body, his ass raised, while the two young men climbed up beside him with their hard cocks.

Iván went first. He lubed up his entry well and sank into him with a slow, firm thrust. Damián let out a deep roar, clutching the sheets.

“That’s it…” the blond panted, driving his hips in. “This is what a real hero is for.”

Tomás positioned himself in front of him and offered his cock. Damián took it down his throat without being asked, sucking hungrily in time with the thrusts he was getting from behind, trapped between the two young bodies. He moaned with a mouth full, delighted to be getting split open from both sides at once.

They took turns. Iván gave way to Tomás, who sank into that hot ass with a rough groan. For his first time, the boy was learning fast: he grabbed the showman’s hips and fucked him with a confidence he didn’t even know he had, while Iván offered Damián his dick so he could keep sucking.

“Fuck, the rookie fucks so well,” Iván muttered, looking at Tomás approvingly.

“Aaah… harder,” Damián begged between pants, utterly surrendered. “Give it to me proper, fuck…”

They gave it to him proper, until the great Damián Roca was nothing more than a moaning body trapped between two men using him as they pleased. Tomás felt he couldn’t hold on anymore; he quickened the rhythm, drove in all the way, and came inside with a muffled shout against the showman’s hairy back.

Iván took over, still hard, and a few more thrusts were enough for him to empty himself too with a growl. Damián, with one hand between his legs, jerked himself off a couple of times and spilled over the sheets with a long cry, trembling from head to toe.

For a while all that could be heard was their breathing, the three of them sprawled, sticky and exhausted, on that king-size bed.

***

Iván was the first to get up. He dressed in front of the mirror at his own pace, checking the cuffs of his shirt and the collar of the tuxedo, as neat as when he had arrived.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” he said, winking at Tomás. “It was a pleasure.”

“Same here,” the boy murmured, still dazed. “Hey… I don’t even know your real name.”

But Iván was already closing the door behind him.

When they left the hotel, Damián had managed to dissolve all the tension with chatter and slaps on the shoulder, as if none of what had happened before had actually happened.

“Hey,” he said in the elevator, breaking the silence. “I know this isn’t as normal here as it is back home, but… after tonight I’d trust you with my life, kid. This stays between us, okay? I trust you. Blindly.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tomás replied, and inside he thought he had just lost his virginity in the most savage way possible: in an enormous threesome, with his idol on his knees. Fucking brilliant.

***

What Tomás would take weeks to understand was that none of that night had been real. Not the fire, not the rescue, not the hero.

As soon as the boy disappeared down the street, Damián’s warm smile vanished at once. He met up with his team in a dive where Mateo and the others welcomed him with applause.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he said, dropping into a chair. “Someone get this costume off me once and for all.”

They had staged the whole fraud: the disaster, the salvation, the legend of the invincible showman. And, amid laughter, they toasted the brightest piece of all, the actor who had nailed his waiter role.

“To Iván,” he said, raising his glass. “Fired from his previous job for ‘unethical conduct.’ The best addition we’ve made.”

A few kilometers away, in a café with Wi-Fi, the blond left a generous tip on the table, closed his laptop, and walked away with that same seductive smile with which he had knocked on the suite door. For him, that night had only been another job. A particularly pleasant one.