‘Don’t worry; I think I was on edge or something.’
‘You know I’m not actually in the position to judge anybody.’
I smiled.
‘However, I do have some news,’ he said with a dark face.
‘Oh no, what’s happening to you now?’
‘Well,’ he said, while scratching his bald head. ‘I am going to give my notice period to Katherine.’
‘You’re doing what?’
‘Yeah, I got approached for another job and I think it’s time for me to take it.’
‘You got a job offer while wearing a leather harness at a techno club?’
‘No,’ he laughed. ‘But I did meet some cool people that wanted me to interview at a record company, to work with music. That’s what I have always wanted.’
I took a second of silence. It was Andrew’s news all over again. I needed to stop being so conceited about how the news affected me and start being happy for my friends.
I gave Dominic another hug and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Well done, you.’
‘Now we just need you to get the fuck out of here.’
I wondered if I ever could.
‘I am just going to have a look around on the shop floor. I’ll see you in a bit,’ he announced, while leaving me alone with a pile of shirts to fold. Funny enough, it was the very same cherry blossom shirt Marc wanted to buy.
I was folding my third or fourth shirt, when I realised one of them didn’t have a security tag on. I looked around to see if there was anyone around and put it inside my pants.
I knew there weren’t any security cameras in that stock room, so it would be impossible to get caught. Also, I needed something to wear for the evening. I was going to see a German guy named Stefan for dinner, and I wanted to look hot.
With all the saving I was doing, I really didn’t want to spend my hard-earned money on overpriced clothes, not to mention I enjoyed the thrill of stealing it when Marc wanted it so much. It was extremely satisfying to take something from him for once. He had easy access to Jake, Sara and, heck, even my Squall. Just not this damn cherry-blossom shirt.
Stefan’s house was right around the corner from work. All I had to do was walk down Sloane Street and follow the smell of success and pretension all the way to Chelsea.
I had met him on Grindr, while using my usual technique of finding the profile with the most LinkedIn-esque air to it. He worked in finance, but he was an art “enthusiast” as he so-called himself and enjoyed cooking and drinking fine wine. He sounded really good on paper, except his face looked like a flounder, and his body had never seen the inside of a gym in its life. His naked photos showed his skin covered in freckles, even his arse, which was prominent in all the photos sent. I was starting to see a pattern in older successful men wanting to get fucked hard by someone younger and far less successful than them.
This job was only going to get me £150, but I had nothing else to do, other than perhaps meet Sara afterwards to go for a dance or something. This would pay for entrance and drinks. I also hadn’t masturbated in a few days, so why not empty my balls into a very keen German?
I walked into his building and it was enormous. The main door opened to a vast space where in the middle you could find reception and a dapper-looking old porter.
I greeted him and asked for directions to reach flat 32, and I made my way to a tiny, wooden lift that could fit three people at the very most.
I quickly chewed and swallowed a piece of gum to refresh my breath and pushed my hair to the sides. I looked at myself in the lift mirror, and my new shirt looked great. I unbuttoned it a bit to show a hint of chest hair and put my hand in my pants to adjust my junk. The lift opened up on the third floor and I was ready.
A really hyper man opened the door.
‘Hello!’ I said, trying to find a way not to sound like a dork.
‘Hey there, beautiful!’ he shouted, while giving me a big hug. Music was pumping out of the flat, loud. ‘I am cooking some quick dinner. Tell me you’re hungry!’
Stefan was nothing like what I was expecting. There was some shyness to him when we texted, but this fast-talking individual was completely different. He reminded me of Dominic on a night out.
I walked inside the flat and it was a loft-looking flat spanning two levels. I entered into the huge living room, which took a majority of the ground floor. The walls were full of character and personality. The guy was positively obsessed with purple and colourful woollen rugs hanging at every corner. Photos of him taken on trips around the world were perfectly framed around the room. There were disco lights flashing in rhythm with the electronic music. I couldn’t even hear myself think. I removed my shoes and walked about.
‘There isn’t too much to show. This is the living room, bathroom is down there in the corner,’ he said while pointing at it. ‘…and that upstairs is the bedroom. I’ll show you later.’ He winked.
Gross. But I’d play along. The bedroom was actually more of a mezzanine floor, and you could actually see the bed from the living room sofa. It was an interesting layout, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he was an eighteen-year-old trapped in the body of a forty-seven-year-old man.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked in a thick German accent. ‘I have just about anything. I have made us a cocktail if you want. G&T?’
I looked at him with large, wide eyes. He was going at a thousand miles per hour and I wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to follow the same pace.
‘Yes, please,’ I implored, while grabbing a huge glass filled with ice, lemon and what seemed like a litre of gin.
‘Did you find the place alright?’ he asked, while chugging about half of it.
‘Yeah, I work around the corner, so it wasn’t too hard.’
‘You’re fucking hot, by the way,’ he said, while scouting me up and down. ‘Really lovely eyes and thick hair.’
There was something about his ways that I found very off-putting, but I did enjoy his forwardness.
‘Come closer,’ he said, inviting me to come to him in the kitchen. I obeyed and walked to where he was. That’s when he put his hands right above my arse cheeks and looked at me. His light blue eyes were surrounded by a reddish hue. The guy had either not slept the night before, or smoked hella weed.
‘That’s better,’ he said. Then he proceeded to give me a hard, intense kiss. His tongue immediately made its way down my throat and I could feel his cock getting hard from that alone.
‘Wow,’ I said, panting and detaching from him. ‘You don’t waste time.’
‘Sorry, I just wanted to say hi properly,’ he said while going back to cutting some tomatoes to make bruschetta.
His breath revealed he was a smoker which I wasn’t a big fan of, but the kiss was alright. Sometimes I’d forget these men had full VIP access to my body, as long as I was there with them. I took the wooden cutting board where the bruschetta were placed to the main coffee table in the living room. Stefan followed me with two bottles of wine and popped them both open.
‘I like how you do things,’ I said to him, with admiration.
‘Yeah, why waste time?’ He smiled, while sitting next to me. ‘You’re okay with the music? I can put on something more chill now.’