By Kevin

This can't be happening. That's all there is to it. Why am I sitting here, blowing off an important dinner with a sales client, and for this? When I get back to Denver tomorrow, I'm definitely going to call my therapist and have a nice long talk about self-destructive behavior. I mean, fuck, I'm technically old enough to be his father, but there I go again. I'm not old enough by a long shot. He's more like my kid brother. Yeah, my kid brother. Fuck, my kid brother. How old is he? And what am I doing here?

Oh god, he's lighting a cigarette. Look at those lips. What am I going to say when I call home tonight? What am I going to tell the boss in the morning? ...Oh, hi Roger, sorry I lost the account, but I met this kid in a gas station bathroom. Yeah, yeah, I know they were our biggest east coast distributor, but you should have seen the way the sweat glistened on his shoulders when he flexed his arms over his head while he was pissing at the urinal hands free, and then the way he grinned and winked when he noticed me staring at his crotch...

"We going to do this, dude?"

"Um, yeah. Um..."

"Business before pleasure, eh? So, it's fifty to watch me jack off, two-fifty to touch my junk, and another two-fifty to taste it. I know you want to. Just keep your shit in your pants and we'll be cool."

"You want money?" Oh Christ, what am I doing, he's a hooker. But look at those curly tufts of hair poking out from under his arms. I'm a sucker for tank tops, and that skin-tight white one is barely concealing a tight chest with hard pierced nipples and one hell of a six pack. The way he's casually tucking his right thumb under the waistband of his shorts to reveal just the right amount of trail. I can almost taste him from here.

"That trouser tent you got says you'll pay." The smoke he's exhaling is making my throat tickle, but who cares. This boy is grade A prime. He's the closest I'll ever get to sex on two legs. That six-foot frame is so taut it's like a spring wound one turn too tight, and those tattoos. His arms would be lickable without them, but nothing makes young skin look quite as hot as a little ink.

Shit, I just have to ask. "Um... how much to blow me?" I've never had a mouth so perfect on me before. Why is he laughing?

"You don't have enough money for that, dude." That smirk. If I was more of a man, I'd knock it off his face, but fuck I want him. I NEED him. What is wrong with me?

"Um, okay, um, five hundred then?"

"Done. Let's see the cash." Frickin fuck, where is my wallet. Oh, in my coat pocket on the chair.

"Here." Five hundreds on the bedspread. Five hundreds I'm going to need when I get fired tomorrow. Goddamn, look at him, leaning on the bed, the way he's got his head thrown back stroking his chest like I already have my nose buried in his pubes. Take off that shirt. PLEASE take off that shirt. I know it's not hiding much, but I want to see that wiry torso.

Why can't I move? I just paid for this right? I'm in charge. Oh fuck, his left hand just slipped into his loose mesh shorts showing a nice mound of dark thick hair. His right slipped under his shirt through the wide arm hole to rub and pull his nipples. Oh, they are so hard. I could spend a lifetime chewing on those things. Just go pull that shirt off and do it! Fuck.

"Oh dude, this cock feels so good in my hand. Mmmmmmmm..." That moan is driving me wild. He's already breathing fast, his hips almost imperceptibly humping the air. Just go touch him already. He's not going to bite. "What you waiting for, faggot? I know you want to taste it. You paid me already. Get on your knees."

What did he call me? Damn, this carpet is filthy. I need to tell Roger to book me in better hotels. He's not wearing any underwear. He can't be with that wet spot already wicking through the mesh. That smell. Fuck is he ripe. He must work out in these shorts, or he hasn't had a shower in days. He reeks, so why is my mouth watering?

"It's nice and cheesy for ya, just like faggots like it. Get your mouth on it now, cocksucker!" Christ, doesn't he ever trim down here, the hair is so thick, but it's not like he needs to accentuate anything. I've never sucked uncut cock before. Am I supposed to pull the skin back and suck the head raw or.... old cheese and salty sweet onions and stale piss and his hands on the back of my head and I can't breathe. Use my nose. I'm going to gag but I don't want this to ever end. The shaft is so silky on my lips, and the head -- oh fuck, my tongue is under his foreskin.

"Suck my hairy balls now, faggot. They need some attention, too." Yes... I really need to suck his luscious balls. His cock is so hard bouncing against my nose and forehead. Fuck, I hope I get some of his young, sweaty sack fur stuck in my teeth. I want something of him to take home with me. I want to take all of him home with me, but what would I tell the family? And he would never come anyway. Shit, a dude like this would never come home with me. God, I have both of them in my mouth now and listen to him moan. I've got to get my hand in my pants, maybe he won't mind if I jerk myself without pulling it out.

"What the fuck are you doing, faggot? Didn't I tell you to leave your junk alone?" Why am I sprawled out on the floor, looking up at him from my back. Did he hit me? I don't care. Oh no, why is he pulling up his shorts?

"Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break our agreement. Please, I won't touch myself anymore, or I can pay you some more, if that will help. Just please don't make me stop!"

"You faggots really can't help it, can you? You see a body like mine and you just want to cum so bad. Admit it, freak, you can't help yourself, can you?" That smirk on his face is so fucking wrong and so fucking hot. Please let me kiss your smirk. Please...

"Yes, you're right, I'm just out of control when I see you and feel you and taste you. I can't think of anything else but making you cum and cumming myself. Please, don't stop this. I need it so bad. I'll pay anything you want. I'll do anything!"

"Another five hundred to touch yourself. Five hundred more to eat my cum." My hands are shaking so hard I can barely get the money out of my wallet, but there I'm putting it on the bed. My heart is beating so hard I can barely stand it. He's going to cum in my mouth. I have to ask him.

"How much for you to blow me?" The words almost catch in my throat. Please don't say no. "I'll do anything."

"I already said you don't have enough money for that, faggot."

"I can get it. Just name your price. I'll do anything. I'm serious. Anything. Name it."

"Anything, eh?" His eyes are so hateful, but there's something so kissable about his mouth, and his body is just so perfect. Yes, anything, you idiot. Don't you know how hot you are? Anyone would be a fool not to do anything you asked to have you. "How much can you get your hands on?"

"Give me ten minutes to get to the hotel ATM and I think I can get, I don't know, maybe another two thousand?"

"Make it five and I'll think about it, faggot."

I've never run this hard before. Fuck, the elevator doors are closing. Shit, I'll take the stairs. It's only eleven flights down. I need to stop. This is insane. He's not worth this. No one is worth this. But my god, he tastes so good, and that mouth, those lips. If I could have those lips on my cock, it would be worth everything I have. There's the machine. Thank you, thank you, I brought all my cards with me. Let's see, if I max all the cash withdrawals... there, that's two thousand. Three thousand. Four thousand. Four thousand five hundred. Four thousand seven hundred fifty. Oh shit, that's it. I can only come up with $4750.00. Maybe he will take my watch and laptop. Hurry up elevator, move faster, goddamnit!

"Here, that's all I can come up with right now, but I can get more."

"Looks like you're a little short, cocksucker, and I don't take credit."

"Take my watch, my laptop, my airline ticket, whatever you want. Take it all. Take everything I have."

"Everything, eh? Deal, but we play by my rules, faggot." That smirk. This is all a game, isn't it? He knew he was going to suck my cock all along, he just wanted to get as much out of me as he could. But hey, I would have gladly given him more if I could. It's a good deal. Who the fuck cares, he's gunna suck my cock!

"Look, here's how it's going to be. You strip and sit in that chair. I don't want no funny business, no backing out, so I'm going to tie your ass to the chair. Then you're gunna blow me until I shoot in your mouth, and you're gunna enjoy it. Then I'll finish my part of the bargain, take what I want and go. You can worry about how to get loose once I'm gone."

My pants hit the floor before he stopped talking, I think. Shit, he's just going to stand there and watch? For all this money, he could at least help. There, my shirt's gone, shoes, socks, boxers. The chair is heavier and harder than I would have thought, but the wooden arms and legs give him a place to tie me down. Shit, that was a two-thousand-dollar suit he just shredded. Oh, he's using each pant leg to secure one of my legs to the chair. My boxers work just fine for my left wrist and my tie for the right. Does it have to be so tight?

Fuck, my cock has never been this hard before. Every time I catch his scent my cock pulses and bobs in my lap. This is so worth it. He's pushing his pants down. Look at that meat, and it's dripping hard still. It's straining my back a little, but I'm leaning way forward just to get close to it as he teases me without pushing his hips forward. I wish he would take off that tank so I could look up at his abs and chest while I suck him.

Oh, it's finally in my mouth again. The precum is delicious. Shit, it's in my throat. His hands are so strong on the back of my head. I can't move, can't breath. Is this what it means to have someone fuck your face? The chair back must be leaning on the bed cause I'm at an angle. I can't see anything but the hem at the bottom of his shirt and it feels like his entire weight is on my head as he humps my mouth. I can hear the muffled sounds of his grunting off in the distance, but my entire world is a haze of slippery cock and steaming ripe pubic hair.

My gag reflex is working in overdrive, but his thrusting hips aren’t giving my throat a chance to resist. He’s humping so hard I think it may break my nose. Fuck, fuck, fuck, my throat and mouth are coated in thick slippery saltiness as he makes four final, deliberate humps to empty his balls of their savory load. I can feel it oozing from the corners of my mouth, but since his cock still occupies what little bit of breathless consciousness remains to me, all I can do is swallow and bask in the glow of knowing his sperm will be inside me tonight.

“Fuck, dude, you faggots really do know how to suck cock, don’t you?” As his cock slides out of my mouth, I feel empty, even more incomplete than I did when I invited him up to my room, but as the air fills my lungs again the urgency of my own penis rushes back into focus. He’s going to suck my cock!

He’s finally taking off his beater, and the view is worth any wait, any price. His abs and hips are perfectly chiseled with a neat trail leading down into his thick bush. His chest is lightly dusted with brown hair, especially right around his tight, hard nipples with their acrylic barbells and along the valley between his taut pecs. He’s arching his back, showing off the natural grace of his well toned triceps and armpits. I really didn’t think my cock could strain any more, but it’s positively aching to jump across the eighteen inch gap between us.

Wait, why is he stuffing his shirt in my mouth? I can’t speak and can barely breathe. He’s grinning. Why does he need to gag me to give me a blow job? He’s reaching down into his sock. What is that? Oh fuck, he’s got a knife. It’s not a big knife, just a pen knife, but it’s still a knife. What have I done? I’m such a fucking idiot. He’s going to kill me.

“Aww, dude, don’t look so scared. I’m not going to kill ya. It’s just part of our deal. I can take anything I want, right? It’s worth anything to have a kid like me suck that cock of yours, right? Well, ya see, I can’t risk having that faggot cock of yours spurt in my mouth, right, cause I’m straight, but a deal’s a deal, and I said I’d suck your cock. You said I could take anything you have, so here’s how it’s going to work. I’ll cut off your faggot cock, suck it while you watch, then keep it to make up the difference between what you promised and what you can pay. You can keep the cheap watch and the shitty laptop, I got better anyhow.”

Fuck, how do I get loose? Maybe if I rock the chair back and forth I can turn it over and break the legs off. Oh shit, I hit my head. The room is spinning.

“You really want to play it that way, cocksucker? I mean, if you end up knocking yourself out or pissing me off, you won’t ever get to see me suck your cock.”

My heart is racing. I can’t believe this is happening. Why?

“It’s not much of a cock, is it, really? I mean, no wonder you wanted me so bad. Even a faggot like you couldn’t get much with a dink like that. Man, it seems to be enjoying the fun, though. Looks pretty hard, and your balls are already wet with cocksnot. I bet you really like to shoot, don’t you? Too bad you’ll prolly never spurt again.”

His hand is on my cock. It feels so warm, but rough. I’m involuntarily trying to thrust my hips, but I can’t. The chair is too heavy and I’m tied too tight.

“Oh well, a deal’s a deal.”

I’m trying to beg with my eyes, but the smirk on his face is impenetrable. He’s squeezing my cock hard with his left hand. I know what’s coming, but I can’t bear to look away. Holding the knife, his right hand slips under my shaft. It’s not a big knife, the blade maybe an inch and a half. Sharp burning right where the gather of loose skin connects my cock to my sack. Wetness spreading over my balls. Searing pain as I feel and see him readjust his grip to bring the knife in from a different angle. Trying to pant through the swirling darkness at the edge of my vision, but his beater is in my mouth. I can see my cock in his hand, but I can’t feel his touch. Just the knife. The tension bursts as the blade splits the last bit of skin.

Wave after wave of nausea assaults me as my pelvic muscles spasm. I can’t tell if I’m pissing or cumming or bleeding to death as he raises my cock to his mouth. He sucks the head between his beautiful lips as he cleans the knife on the loose white cotton hanging from my gag. I stare into his eyes as he rolls his tongue on my deflating cock, blood oozing down his chin. He’s sucking my cock, he’s really sucking my cock with that perfect, smirking mouth. He puts the knife back in his sock and pulls his shirt loose.

Air, AIR!!! I can breathe now, but when I try to speak I can only manage a moan. With a look of disgust he spits my now shrunken penis into his left hand, following up with several long hocks onto the carpet. He’s gathering the cash from the bed with his right hand, tucking it into the pocket of his shorts. Why is he on the phone and why is the room spinning again?

“Emergency in room 1217.” He’s hung up the receiver. “It's gross, but your cock doesn’t taste as bad as I thought it would. Guess I’ll let my dog have it. Was a pleasure doing business with ya, faggot. You can keep the beater to remember me by.” The sweaty white shirt fell in my dickless lap just as the door closed behind him.