“I’m going to hold to you to that.” Mitch paused for a moment, looking down in admiration at Dan’s prick as it rose up beside his face. Then his lips parted and he lowered his hot mouth over the fat head of the penis, taking it completely into his mouth.
Dan groaned with delight at the sensation!
Mitch’s cheeks drew inward, hollowing as he sucked, then they puffed out again as his lips pulled upward, almost leaving the cockhead before they descended around the shaft toward its base again. Dan’s back arched. His hips and butt rose and fell. His groin banged up against Mitch’s sucking lips. The storm of orgasm began once again to gather force, impetuously, irresistibly, deep within his loins.
“Suck it, man!” Dan begged. “Suck my goddamn cock! Oh, you’re doing it to me, buddy—you’re turning me on! You’re going to get fucked, all right. I’m going to fuck you good!”
Mitch curbed his lips off the blunt, rounded tip of Dan’s cock.
“Now?” he panted. “Are you ready to fuck me now?”
“Right now,” Dan told him.
Mitch didn’t indulge in too much in the way of further unnecessary delays. He grabbed Dan’s cock in his hand and stroked it, passionately. With his other arm, Mitch reached out toward the nightstand. He extracted a condom from the box.
“Fuck me, Dan. Shove your dick up my ass. Fuck me hard!”
Dan’s dick pounded within his trick’s eager grasp as Mitch continued to milk the thick column of turgid flesh for a moment with his fist. Dan felt it jerk extra hard, and for an instant he held his breath, afraid that he’d come all over the bed before he’d have a chance to get a rubber on and take Mitch anally, the way the guy was begging him to. But then, as though Mitch too realized how close Dan was to coming, he relaxed his grip, and Dan could feel the pulsating sensation deep inside the core of his cock subside a bit.
Dan looked down at himself. His cock was slick with its preliminary seepage of jism, and Mitch’s wet hand slid rapidly and easily over the massive shaft that trembled against his cupped palm.
“You want that in you, huh?” Dan taunted Mitch.
“Yeah.”
“You think you can take it?”
“I know I can. Hurry!”
Grinning, Dan pushed the masturbating hand away and sat up on the bed, twisting around until he was kneeling between Mitch’s spread thighs, his body bent over Mitch’s as Mitch lay flat on his back, writhing and squirming with visible need. Dan grabbed the little foil packet from Mitch’s hand, tore it open, and extracted the condom. He unrolled it down over the full length of his erection. This too was a performance in its way, and Mitch kept his eyes riveted on Dan’s hard-on as Dan gloved it up.
“You’re going to have to use plenty of lube,” Mitch advised. “And take it easy at first, when you first go in me.”
“Don’t worry. I will.” Dan reached for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, deftly flipped open its cap with his thumb, and tilted the bottle to allow a little puddle of the slippery gel to flow out into his palm. He slicked up his overexcited schlong, wetting the latex thoroughly, the touch of his own fingers on his penis once again almost making him ejaculate too soon. Forcing himself to calm down, Dan applied more of the lube to his fingers, and then he pressed them between Mitch’s upraised buttocks. He found the tight pucker of Mitch’s anal opening and began to massage the gel into it. Mitch moaned with delight.
“You like to have your ass played with?” Dan whispered.
“Almost as much as I like to have it fucked.”
Dan treated Mitch to a little finger-fucking, accordingly, testing the tightness of the man’s ass and warming it up for his cock.
But by now Dan was as impatient to fuck Mitch as Mitch was to be fucked. Neither man could wait any longer!
Dan got into the position he wanted, kneeling on the bed between Mitch’s parted thighs. With whorish abandon, Mitch raised his legs, bending them at the knees, offering his butt to Dan.
Dan grabbed Mitch’s ankles and hoisted his feet higher. He guided Mitch’s legs up over his shoulders and then he began to push his slippery prick between the other man’s buttocks, through his sphincter opening, and deep into his ass. It was time for Dan to earn his money. When it came to sex, Dan was no slacker. He intended to give Mitch good value for his money!
Dan placed his fuck tool against Mitch’s sphincter muscle, felt the tender flesh open around the knob, felt the suctioning vacuum-like effect draw him inside. He thrust his hips forward, and he entered Mitch’s body, going in all the way with the first long stroke. Their bodies banged together quite violently and painfully.
Mitch moaned and drew his legs up, so that his knees almost touched his chest. His heels drummed on Dan’s back for an instant before his ankles crossed and locked together in the small of Dan’s back, so that his strong thighs applied a steady pressure to Dan’s ribcage. Mitch’s arms encircled the other man, and his hips and buttocks rose from the bed to accept and fully contain every inch of his penetrating fuck tool.
“Fuck me, Dan!” Mitch whispered. “Oh, fuck my ass!”
“You really want it?”
“I want everything you’ve got to give. Don’t hold anything back. Now that I’m used to having you in there, now that I’ve got that big thing in me—I want it all! Don’t hold back, man. Go for it! I like it rough. Fuck me as hard as you can!”
“That’s pretty hard,” Dan warned. “But, if you’re sure you feel up to it—?”
Dan slammed himself against the other man’s ass cheeks. He humped him in a blind frenzy of lust, with thoughtless, bestial urgency, ramming his tool violently in and out of that hot, tight, clenching asshole.
His big male organ seemed to swell inside Mitch to such an extent that Mitch’s anus could scarcely contain it. Mitch writhed under his fucker, moaning and gasping, rotating his butt and shifting his legs.
The force of Dan’s strokes drove him down the bed until his head and shoulders were hanging over the edge of the mattress, until he was half on the floor, his body bowed under Dan’s.
And then Dan sank his fingers into Mitch’s taut buttocks and pulled him up to meet his thrusts, each stroke a white-hot, searing penetration of his guts, building to a degree of heat which was surely impossible for mere flesh to sustain—the heat of carnal fusion approaching meltdown!
“Fuck me,” Mitch whimpered. “Oh, pound my hole! Don’t stop. Don’t stop! Fuck me, fuck me!”
Dan fucked him. Without once slackening his pace, he hammered away at the other’s man’s ass for a good five or ten minutes, nonstop, until both of their bodies were flushed red from their exertions and wet with the hot sweat of sex.
But even a stallion like Dan couldn’t keep up this grueling pace indefinitely. He knew that he was going to have to come!
Mitch seemed able to read his fucker’s mind, to realize that Dan’s ejaculation was almost upon him and could be delayed no longer.
“Come!” Mitch yelled suddenly, as Dan’s prickshaft swelled even thicker within him. “Oh, come in my ass!”
Dan’s cock burst in him with burning violence!
Mitch cried out as he felt the throbbing inside his asshole. Dan was coming, his semen filling the reservoir tip of the rubber encasing his cock. Mitch’s own release joined in, his jism spurting from his neglected but nevertheless overstimulated prick, pouring down his torso until his belly and chest glistened with the flowing lava. Again and again Dan pumped out his sperm, deep within the other man’s ass, until his balls felt hollow from the strain. And then he sank down on top of him on the bed, gasping desperately for breath, his cock still twitching inside Mitch’s rectum—which spasmed fiercely around its bulk. Mitch continued to come, all over himself—all over Dan—all over the bed!
“Oh, Christ!” Mitch moaned. “What a fuck! What a great, hot fuck! I can’t believe how good your cock feels in my ass … I can’t believe how hard I shot!”
“Yeah,” Dan agreed, panting loudly breath. “That was
pretty wild, wasn’t it?”
“It was the best. You’re the best.”
“I know I am,” Dan said, feeling no need to make a display of false modesty.
He pulled his scarcely-deflated prick out from between Mitch’s buttocks, smacked him on the ass, and then got to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom.
There, he stripped the semen-filled condom from his cock and dropped it into the toilet. Dan took a long, leisurely piss before he flushed the bowl.
Mitch was still lying motionless on the bed.
“I suppose you have to go,” Mitch murmured. He already sounded drowsy.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. It’s late,” Dan pointed out, apologetically. He picked his clothes up from the floor and began to get dressed.
“I understand. Here’s your money.”
While Dan was in the bathroom, Mitch had retrieved his wallet from his discarded pants. He opened it, and handed Dan three bills.
Dan saw the denominations. Three fifties! The hundred they’d agreed on—plus an extra fifty!
“This is too much,” he felt obligated to say.
“Take it. That was worth every penny,” Mitch insisted. “Listen—can I have your phone number? I may be back here on business again soon. I don’t want to go to The Tool Shed on a night when you’re not working, and risk missing you. I’d like to call you ahead of time, so we can set up something definite.”
“For sure. Here.” Dan found a sheet of the motel’s stationery on the desk, and wrote down his cell phone number.
He folded the paper, dropped it on the nightstand, and leaned over the bed to give Mitch a goodnight kiss on the mouth.
“Thanks,” Dan said.
“Thank you. You’re terrific. God, if you’re this hot, this sexy, when you’re ‘strictly gay for pay’—I can’t imagine what you’d be like if you ever decided to turn gay all the way!”
“Thanks for the compliment, Mitch. But that’ll never happen.”
“Goodnight, Dan. Oh, and don’t forget that suggestion I made. That you make a video for us.”
“Me, a porn actor. A porn star. Imagine that!”
“Yes, and a ‘gay for pay’ porn star,” Mitch specified. “They’re a breed apart. The few. The proud. The horny!”
Laughing, Dan left the motel room.
Chapter Three: The Repair Man Cometh
Dan was bored stiff—literally!
He had a fuck of a hard-on, the kind of meaty, absolutely inflexible erection that simply refused to go away. It was amazing, really, the way the steady flow of blood to his penis seemed to make the rest of his body stiff and excited, as well. The pulsations of lust began in his loins, all right, but they didn’t stop at his cock, hard and hot though that male member undeniably was. All of his muscles seemed to be throbbing away, in the grip of a persistent erotic readiness.
The problem, of course, was that he was alone at home all day long, and he wasn’t used to that. He had nothing much to do, and so, inevitably, his thoughts kept straying back to the ever-tantalizing topic of sex.
Dan just wasn’t cut out to be a househusband. Thank God it was only a temporary situation. He would be starting a new job in another month. It paid more and it represented a big step upward for him, but in the meantime, he had some vacation and sick time saved up at his old place of employment. He had to use this time, or he’d lose it.
His wife, Amber, worked too. They both tended to be frugal, and, since the extra money wasn’t coming in yet, Dan didn’t want to do anything extravagant during this period of enforced idleness. He asked Phil to schedule him for some extra nights down at The Tool Shed. Not working during the day certainly made staying up late at night, dancing, a lot less fatiguing. After a shift of stripping, Dan could sleep late the following morning, and recuperate.
He quickly got used to his new routine. He got up when he felt like it, puttered around the apartment, took care of some minor repair jobs that he’d never had time for until now—and he soon found himself watching daytime television, which was no help whatsoever in getting his mind off sex.
Every talk show and soap opera seemed obsessed with sex. Adultery, incest, group sex, sex changes, homosexuality—the subject matter ran the full gamut of perversity.
On this morning, one sleazy talk show episode caught Dan’s attention and held it. The episode was forthrightly titled My Husband is a Whore! Seeing those words displayed on the screen, Dan winced. From the sound of it, the topic seemed like it might be a bit too close to home for comfort!
The show followed a standard pattern. The genial host pretended to be shocked by some of his guests’ more lurid revelations, although it was hard to believe he hadn’t heard much of the same, or worse, often enough before. The studio audience egged on the guests with cheers or jeers, depending whose side they were on at any given moment. It wasn’t uncommon for the audience to change its mind, and boo the same guest they’d been applauding only moments previously.
In this episode, women—invariably shrill and tearful—accused their husbands of leading double lives, exchanging sex for money or other favors. The supposed gigolos and male escorts defended themselves vociferously, denying the allegations. It was assumed that they were lying until it was proved otherwise. They’d all been given lie detector tests, and the host read the results. Most of the husbands turned out to have been lying, which led to hysteria from their spouses and savage booing from the audience. Dan couldn’t understand how any guy could be stupid enough to think he could beat the lie detector. On the other hand, judging from the way most of these men looked and spoke, none of them appeared to be intellectual giants.
So far, all of the married men who were exposed as male prostitutes catered to a clientele of women. But the last sequence offered a twist. This particular married couple was pure trailer trash, the wife so slutty-looking, heavily made up, and tawdrily dressed that she looked like the one who ought to be turning tricks. The young husband was a stereotypical redneck stud, pierced, tattooed, and sewer-mouthed. But, Dan had to admit, he was not without a certain crude physical appeal.
This was a cable show, which allowed for a considerable freedom of verbal expression. On some of the stations which carried it, the worst obscenities were probably blipped out, which meant that the viewer had to fill in frequent gaps in the conversation. The cable provider in Dan’s city had no such scruples, perhaps in acknowledgement of the fact that the “prevailing community standards” there were fairly liberal. And so the dialogue was broadcast in its full, uncensored eloquence.
Unlike the other husbands, this dude admitted from the start that he was a whore—“a man whore, and all man, baby!” as he put it. Furthermore, he acknowledged that he specialized in servicing gay men. You could charge them higher rates, he boasted.
“Ah am strictly gay for pay,” he insisted, in his molasses-thick Southern drawl. “Ah go with men for money, sure. But ah only do it for the fuggin’ money. Ah am definitely not fuggin’ gay!”
“How can say you that,” his wife shrieked, “when you let those dirty queers suck your cock and stick it up their rear ends? And you even suck their dicks and let them put their dicks in your ass! When you come home after being with one of those fucking fags, I can still smell their cum on your body! It’s disgusting! I have to make you take a shower before I can stand to have you crawl into the bed beside me! And then, when we’re making love—and most of the time, you’re too tired from all your whoring around to make love to me, your own wife!—all I can think about is those dirty cocksuckers putting their cocks in you!”
“Ah don’t suck nobody’s muthafuggin’ dick!” the husband exploded, as the audience jeered at him. “And ah am still a fuggin’ anal virgin! Ah would never let no fuggin’ queer cornhole mah fuggin’ ass! And ah give you the money ah make, don’t ah?”
“You keep most of it to spend on yourself.”
“That’s a fuggin’ lie, you fuggin’ bitch!”
The smirking host finally got around
to opening the sealed envelope containing the lie detector results.
“You were asked if you keep any of the money you make from your johns for yourself, instead of giving it to your wife,” the host said. “You said no. The lie detector showed—you were lying.”
“I knew it!” the wife screamed, as the audience booed.
“Shee-it!” the red-faced husband exclaimed. “That is absolutely fuggin’ not true! Your fuggin’ lie detector is fuggin’ not workin’ right!”
The host raised his hand for silence. “You were asked if you ever perform oral sex on your johns, and let them perform anal intercourse on you. You said no. The lie detector showed—you were lying.”
Hysteria from the wife, jeers from the audience, and obscenity-laced denials from the husband.
“It ain’t mah fault ah’m so damn good-lookin’ that ah got a posse of rectum-lovin’ queers chasin’ aftah mah dick!” he protested.
“You were asked if you ever have sex with other men not for money, but for free. You said no. The lie detector showed—you were lying, and that you have had sex for free with more than a hundred men!”
Chaos on stage, and pandemonium from the audience, as the wife attacked her husband with her fists and the show’s brawny security guards had to intervene. The wife took off her wedding ring and threw it in her husband’s face.
“We’re done!” she shrilled. “We’re finished! I never want to see you again!”
“But ah love you, baby doll!” the husband insisted. “Them fuggin’ faggots don’t mean nothin’ to me! It’s just sex! Sex for money! Ah tell you, ah am strictly gay for pay!”
The audience, needless to say, didn’t buy this. They booed the husband more loudly than ever, sounding like ancient Romans in the Coliseum demanding that another Christian be brought out and fed to the lions.
Dan could feel himself blushing hotly—all over—as he watched the tawdry little drama unfold. The explicit nature of the program embarrassed him, but it excited him, as well.
Strictly Gay for Pay Page 4
