Chapter 3
But this? This feels like I’m not here for the money but for him, and it shouldn’t. I don’t know what to do about that.
Less than a minute passes before he’s back. He has a leather wallet in his hands, and when he opens it casually, I see a wad of fifties the same way other guys carry fives or tens. He peels one off and hands it over. I never take the money first, so I set it on the dresser in plain sight. He starts to leaf through the other bills. “Do I tip you, or something?”
“Fifty’s fine.” Facing him, I unbuckle my belt and unbutton my jeans. Before I unzip, though, I ask, “You just want me to strip? Or do you maybe want to undress me? Some guys like to do that.”
He grins and sets the wallet on the dresser with the fifty dollar bill. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
So I lean back a little, hips jutting forward, and he comes closer. Snagging my zipper, he eases it down with just enough pressure against me that I feel his fingers against my dick the whole time. He’s looking at me, but I’m watching his hands—I don’t want to look in his face, I don’t want this to become intimate. It’s a quick blowjob, nothing else. We aren’t friends, I remind myself. He’s payingme to be here.
His hands rub around my waist and, gently, he pushes down my jeans. They fall to my knees. I push my shirt up out of the way so he can see the front of my briefs—I’m already half-hard, not because I’m into him but because I’m about to get sucked off, and no matter who’s doing it, I always come. I like the warm feel of a hot mouth around my cock, tender hands massaging my balls, a wet tongue licking down my length. As I watch, my dick twitches in anticipation, and RC’s fingers hook into the waistband of my briefs to tug them down.
The moment my dick slips free, it stands up to greet him and he sinks to his knees like an acolyte kneeling before a temple god. “Gorgeous,” he sighs. His breath tickles the sensitive skin on my lower belly, making it flutter.
He kisses my bulbous knob first—not a quick buss or a hurried peck, either, but a deep, sensual frenching that actually makes the bottoms of my feet tingle. That’snever happened before. My ass clenches as his lips rub over my slit. He definitely knows what he’s doing.
Then his tongue licks out and traces the shroomy tip in a counter-clockwise motion, from the slit around to the left, over the top, then back up underneath, ending where it began. With a final little kiss on the underside, he trails his tongue down my length as if it were a lollipop. His mustache and beard tickles where his hair brushes against me, and my dick stiffens against his cheek. At the base, he sucks one of my balls into his mouth and rolls it around a bit before he lets it slip free. My other nut gets the same treatment. Then his lips are kneading back to the tip of my dick, which has already begun to weep a thin, clear liquid.
God, he’s good.
My knees feel weak and I stagger, hitting the back of my knees against the side of the bed. I drop to the mattress and prop myself up on my elbows, spreading my legs as far as I can. My jeans keep them from going too wide, though, so RC pushes the pants down farther, to my ankles, before he slips his sweats down, as well. His cock is rock hard and curves up towards his navel, as if reveling in its sudden freedom. With one hand, he strokes himself as he kneels between my legs again. A second later, he encircles my dick with his other hand, opens wide, and swallows it down to the root.
I feel his throat constrict around me as his tongue and cheeks and mouth work to bring me to release. His fingers massage my hardness, teasing and kneading and squeezing me, sending shivers down my spine. I’ve never had anyone pay such loving attention to every single detail, every inch of my dick, every nerve, every fiber, every little piece of me. In all the appointments I’ve had, most men were closet queers looking for a real-life cock to suck, but they didn’t really know what they were doing. Or they were trying to please themselves more than they wanted to please me—they spent more time fiddling with their own joysticks while slobbering over mine. One guy literally took forty-five minutes to make me come, and just before I busted a nut, I was almost ready to call it quits. Enough already, you know? Just quit yanking on it.