Clients didn’t always want to spend time on their escort. They were paying for attention to them, after all. Foreplay was by their rules—sucking, finger-fucking, sometimes I gave a massage—and that would usually lead promptly to the fucking. Because, their time, their money, their agenda… that’s what this was about, right?
But Blake’s tongue was firm and slow. He was savouring this. The wet, slightly rough surface swiped up between my buttocks, and his moan of pleasure was unmistakable. I hadn’t misled him, either—I loved being rimmed. It was so, so easy to relax into it, to let him tantalise me, feel the dribble of saliva on my taint, his bearded chin rubbing against my balls.
I arched instinctively as my cock filled. The friction of the sheets as he tugged me back and forth was an almost painful delight.
“Don’t hold back, because you think that’s what I want,” he muttered into my flesh, his voice hoarse. “Take what you want, too.”
“Blake…”
“Dante, don’t argue. I have you safe.”
I didn’t know what that meant. I wanted to wait for orgasm—I usually could and did, until the client had climaxed at least once. But right now, I couldn’t hold back much longer.
“Not all over the sheets,” I said raggedly. “Or you’ll have to take the wet patch.”
Blake laughed, a happy, relaxed sound. “Come here then.” With a strong hand, he rolled me over onto my back again. He knelt on the bed at the same level as my hips and dipped down over my groin with ease. I had moments to re-evaluate how fit he obviously was, and therefore plan what sexual positions we could use—and then his lips slid over my cock and I almost lost the power of thought.
“Oh God. Fuck. Yes!” Believe me, I often climaxed. Stimulate a guy’s dick, and that’s what happens, whether you’re with a punter or a lover. But this was something else. I flailed beneath him, pumping out into his mouth. My head swam and I may have yelled aloud. As my orgasm finished and my heartbeat began to ease, I found myself gripping his hair way too tightly for his comfort. I let go quickly, my hand shaking, but he straightened with a careless smile. He ran his gaze down my body, from my tousled hair to my still-clenched toes, and ran a damp finger slowly over his lower lip, as if nudging the last stray drops of cum into his mouth.
Jesus. I guessed he’d be spectacular, didn’t I?
My voice came out as a half-whisper. “Blake. Hey. That was great. Give me a moment.”
“No,” he said sharply. His eyes were smouldering. “I want you just as you are this moment, not in full control, not taking the lead. Up onto your hands and knees, Dante.”
And so I went.
I was prepared already, as I’d been expecting a client. Even so, Blake took some time to stretch me, to feel inside me, stroking until I whimpered. What made me think that was his precise objective? Then he rolled on a condom, slicked up, and slid into me like we were matching parts of a well-oiled machine. He anchored me around the waist with one strong arm, keeping me close. Our skin was sweaty, and we slipped against each other, but he held on tight, and began to pump hard. I was already relaxed from the blowjob, and I pressed back, allowing myself to mould against his front. His breath was hot on my nape, his heartbeat thudded against my spine, the hairs at the base of his cock were bristly on my arse cheeks. We jerked and grunted as one.
I started to harden again. I didn’t know if he liked a lover to be loud, but I couldn’t help my groans as he thrust in and out.
“I’m not going to last long,” he gasped. “You are… Dante… You’re so, so good.”
I knew I was. I rarely got complaints. But somehow, I wasn’t thinking about customer feedback right now. Instead, I clenched my hole. From experience, I knew how effective that would be.
Blake sounded like he was being strangled. “You… oh God! Oh fuck!” He reared away from me, though still holding on to my hips. It sharpened the angle of his cock inside me, thrusting against my prostate, and his balls slapped hard on the back of mine.
We came almost together, and with the same anguished cries.
After I cleared away the condom and fetched Blake a towel to wipe the sweat off, we lay for a while on the bed, still naked, facing each other. I watched his chest settle from heaving to a calmer, steady breath, while he stroked down from my shoulder to my hip, back and forth. I didn’t usually like to be petted, but this was surprisingly comforting. When he tilted my chin up, I reached for his kiss. His mouth most definitely was, as I’d imagined, both generous and demanding.
He pulled away with a sigh, his hand settling back on my thigh. “Your arse is spectacular, Dante. Dammit, you are spectacular.”
“Not so bad yourself.”
He chuckled. “I like your sense of humour. I like the way you answer me back. Not in an aggressive way, you know? Witty. Sharp. Challenging me.”
“Don’t the guys at your business challenge you? Your family? Friends?”
“Some of them. But not often.”
I shrugged. “Maybe you scare them.”
He laughed. “Maybe. I don’t mean to. I just have high standards. And I have no time for blether.”
“Blether? What the hell’s that?”
“It’s Scottish for nonsense, talk for the sake of it. Dad used it a lot. Don’t mock the foreign visitor.” He pushed me playfully and I wrestled him back. The laughter between us felt special. I was being a fool.
“I mean it though,” he said. “I value your candidness. Honesty is critical to me.”
Honesty. I had seen that in everything he said, everything he did. “Did you think all rent boys are yes-men?”
“Hey. No offence meant. I expect it’s in the job description. At least, usually.” His expression sobered. “This doesn’t feel… usual.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said quickly. It wasn’t a lie, but I may have been avoiding the whole truth.
“So, did you enjoy it too, Dante? Our fucking?”
Jesus, couldn’t he tell? Maybe he thought it was part of the rent boy act. It was the first time I’d seen Blake show any glimmer of insecurity.
“Yes,” I said simply. “I had a really good time.”
He pushed the hair back off my forehead. His expression was unreadable now, but his touch was gentle. Then his smile recovered its mischief. “Well, it’s not over yet. I still have a couple of hours paid for.”
I welcomed the return to our banter, to the role I was used to. I laughed and rolled away from him, glancing across the room to the table by the armchair. Earlier, I’d brought up a bottle of wine and some beers, but I didn’t have any food ready. Funny how it was me who was feeling the need for sustenance right now. “You wanna take a shower? Or I can call down for some food, more drinks.”
“I’ll have a glass of wine, thanks. I don’t need to eat.” Blake was close again, touching me, nuzzling between my shoulder blades. “Unless you think I’ll need the energy?”
“Damn right you will.” I slid to the edge of the bed and stood, grinning. I turned deliberately so my back was to him. Stray lube felt sticky between my buttocks, and I slid a hand down between them, patting my hole. It was only slightly sore—he’d been fierce but not violent. And now his gaze followed my every movement. I could see his cock shifting at his groin, thickening again.