Working Men 2 Box Set

Blurring the Lines-8

Back in the guest room again. Ryan appears to be wearing the same sweatpants as last time, but he has a worn T-shirt on, too. His wallet is already on the dresser, and as I close the door behind us, he pulls out not one but two crisp fifty dollar bills. “How much will this buy me?” he asks with a grin.

I move towards him, already reaching for the waistband of his sweats. “You want me to blow you?”

His arm comes up around my waist, his hand dropping to cup one ass cheek through my jeans. “How about a peek back here? No penetration, I promise.”

Usually I’d say no. I don’t get off on ass-play. I just don’t. I had one client try it when I first started out in the gay for pay business, and all I ended up with was a wetness between my buttocks I couldn’t wash away fast enough.

But a hundred bucks is a lot of dough. It’s like having an extra appointment today without really doing any more work. I look at the money Ryan has placed on the dresser beside his wallet and tell myself I’m not turned on by his closeness or his hand on my ass. “Just what do you have in mind, exactly?”

He squeezes my butt, then rubs his hand up to my lower back. My c**k is already half-hard, and we aren’t even naked yet. There’s very little distance between us, and when he speaks, his voice is low and warm. “Rimming, that’s all. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

The problem is I’m not quite sure what that might be any more. At least, not when it comes to him.

I sort of nod, and his grin flares into a full smile, teeth and all. Dimples even appear in his cheeks, how cute. In one quick motion, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside, and I find myself staring at his bare chest with something akin to hunger. My heart quickens, and my blood rushes when he leans closer to pluck at the button on my jeans. “Can I just tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again?”

Before he can see the fear in my face, I turn and undress as fast as I can. Jeans down, briefs too, puddling at my ankles while I try to step out of them. I feel his hand brush over my ass, then he grabs my hips and pulls me back against him. I feel the hard c**k hidden beneath his sweats as it pushes between my cheeks. “I’d fit nicely right in there,” he murmurs.

“You said no penetration,” I point out.

“Whatever’s comfortable to you,” he says.

For some reason, that doesn’t exactly soothe my nerves.

I toss away my shirt and retreat to the side of the bed. By the time I’m seated on the edge, his sweats are on the floor and he’s standing before me, six feet of handsome, naked man. His d**k juts out hard from his crotch, the tip already a deep purple. As he moves closer, I reach out to encircle his shaft with my hand. Without a word, I guide it into my mouth.

He tastes clean and smells musky, a woodsy, earthy scent that comes through beneath a faint, lingering trace of soap. His c**k fits perfectly—in my hand, between my lips. I pump my fist down his length as my tongue twirls around the tip. A slight moan escapes him, and I feel his hand come up around the back of my neck, holding me in place.

I suck in deep, drawing him in, savoring every inch of his erection. Beneath my ministrations, I feel him stiffen, and his balls clench. I open wide and take him all the way in, until my lips kiss the kinked hair at the base of his d**k, and his hips thrust into me, eager for release. But when I pull back to work on his knob again, the hand on my neck tightens a bit. He wants something else.

I let his c**k slip free from my mouth and look up at him. God, I want him, I do—I want him in ways I’ve never wanted another man. Ways I didn’t think I’d ever let myself want a man. I licked a drop of precum from his dickhead and gave him my best come hither look. If he wants to go all the way, I’ll let him. The first time we met, I told him it’d cost more than he could pay to take me, but at this moment, right here, right now? I’d pay him if that’s what it took.

All he needs to do is ask. I won’t say no. I can’t.

But he doesn’t speak, and I don’t fill the silence between us. Easing me to the bed, he sort of rolls me over a little, and I know what he wants without him having to say it. I turn over, my hard c**k pinned between my body and the mattress. He raises my hips and I oblige, kneeling on the bed with my ass in the air. He spreads my legs apart, then cups my buttocks in both hands and kneads them open. I pucker my asshole, almost in greeting, hoping to draw him in.

I want this. I want him. I do.

The next thing I know, I feel his head between my legs, then his tongue on the back of my balls. Warm and wet, it traces around behind my nuts, then dips down to tickle the underside of my shaft. I moan into the bed sheets and bring a hand between my legs, reaching for my d**k. I tug on the tip as his tongue trails spittle down my length. Yes, I sigh, the word lost in the bedding. Yes, God, yes.

Then he moves up over the smooth, sensitive skin below my sac, up to the pinched star of my anus, up along the crack between my cheeks. Holding my buttocks apart, he returns to the ticklish center, his tongue licking around my hole and one finger chasing after it. My c**k shudders in my hand, my palm already slick with my own juices. Yes. Yes.

Gently, so gently I’m not even sure it happens, I feel him lick into me. My hole tightens, clenching, as he tongue-f***s me. I feel the warmth from his mouth spreading all over me, radiating from my center and down my back and legs, down my c**k, into my arms and chest and neck. “Yes,” I cry, out loud this time. “God! Ryan, please…”

I bite my lower lip to keep from saying anything more, but my whole body trills with excitement. One word builds up in me with every swath of his tongue. Yes, yes, YES.

Then he pulls back. For a moment I feel lost, adrift. Bereft. I squeeze my d**k, tugging hard on it, wanting to draw out the pleasure while wanting to feel the rush of orgasm at the same time. Please, please…

Before I can beg, I feel the bed shake beneath him as he climbs up behind me. Then the bulbous tip of his c**k prods at my tight hole. I draw in my breath, yes! But his wet shaft just glides over my trembling bud to rub between my ass cheeks. His hands are back, pushing my buttocks together, creating a crevice for his c**k to slide along. I feel the tip bump the small of my back, leaving a smear of precum, then he starts to really hump against me, rubbing and thrusting, getting off on my ass without actually getting in it.

I whimper as I jerk off into my hand. The friction of Ryan’s c**k against my ass is more of a turn on than I’d like to admit, and every time he pulls back, a small part of me almost hopes he misjudges and pokes into me. Please, I pray, my thighs taut against his. Please, just a little lower. Just a little—

But the next time he pulls back, he grunts and a hot splash of c*m splatters my buttocks, triggering my own release. He leans over me, his belly against my ass and his d**k between my legs, pressing against my balls, as his hand joins mine in milking the last of our loads onto the bed sheet. My knees slide out from under me and I lay beneath him, spent. No part of me wants to move. With his weight above me, I curl beneath him and have to admit I never want this moment to end.