Saturday, February 02, 2013

Tell me about yourself

He lives on the fancy part of Comm. Ave, but I don't realize just how fancy until he opens the door and there’s a marble entryway with a huge chandelier dangling from a ridiculously high ceiling, and then we walk through a set of huge French doors that don't have any purpose except to make you feel smaller I guess as you enter a living room that almost feels like a church because the ceilings are so high, maybe two stories? Sofas on Oriental carpets and fancy paintings in gilded frames.

I wonder why someone this rich would have such bad hair, that's my first thought, but he's already asking if I want something to drink, sure, and then we sit down on one of the sofas so white it's kind of irridescent, or maybe that's just the lighting, recessed lighting from way up like we're in a museum. And when he puts my cocktail down I notice there's $200 on the end table, that's the way I like it. He says: You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?

Oh, these tricks and their manners, right, manners.

I say of course not, and stretch my arms out like I've never been so comfortable in my life.

And he says: Tell me about yourself.

So I tell him the usual: well, I'm paying my way through college and yes, it's hard, but it's worth it, right, because I want to get my education? And at a certain point I realized hey, I really like sex with older guys, so why not mix business with pleasure?

And he laughs like I just told the best joke in the world, and says: Do you want to go in the bedroom.

It's not a question. I like that part.

Before we go upstairs, he says let me refill your glass. I like that part too.

I can't believe this bedroom. It's so pristine, like a hotel except everything is white instead of beige. The same calla lilies on the dresser, who replaces those calla lilies every day? Maybe not every day: how often do calla lilies need to be replaced? Photos of naked men on the walls. Gilded mirrors. Is that his wife and kids on the dresser? A huge four-poster bed that looks like something right out of colonial England. Tiny little rainbows on the walls because the lights on the ceiling because of the chandeliers on the ceiling, or maybe not chandeliers because they're smaller and the crystals draped all the way across, do you still call those chandeliers?

He pulls the bedspread up and I drink the rest of my cocktail and look up at the ceiling and think about coke and cocktails and crystals, right, this is even a crystal glass I notice as I put it on the dresser and he starts to unbutton my sweater, shirt, then he's sucking my dick and when I grab his head I realize oh, the hair is fake, but why so fake?

I'm already hard and he's moaning and I pull him up to me like I need to kiss him right now, yes right now, I'm so in the performance that I hardly even notice his pasty skin and all that old guy flab when he's naked I mean I notice but it's like I'm so in his fantasy that I'm basking in all this power that isn't really power as he slides the condom on my dick and yes, he already told me he wanted me to fuck him.

And I already told him that sounded great, even though of course it didn't, but I'll admit that now it actually does feel great to shove my dick in his ass like I don't care, because I don't care, I don't care about anything except whatever is keeping me hard, faster and faster as I'm saying put your hands on my thighs and he grabs too hard so I say no, softer, right up by my balls, yes, I’ll pretend to come in the condom and then pull out so I don't crash afterwards but this time dammit I'm so in the role, yes maybe it's the drugs, the drugs and the cocktails and I just go right there until I'm grinding in and out, yeah, I can almost feel myself shooting although of course I make sure he comes first, onto those white sheets that someone will bleach in the morning and yes, that's the place to stop so I pull out and he says let's take a shower.

I love showers at a trick’s house, washing myself clean afterwards but the key is that I'm alone, the shower is mine just mine but oh well, he's soaping me up so I can’t savor the double-sized shower on my own, blue tiles floor to ceiling and sparkling glass doors but the best part is the three different shower heads — one for front, one for back, and I guess the other one is for my asshole, right?

Marble counter with two sinks, plush white towels but the funniest part is that all the toiletries are sample sizes from hotels, that's how I know he's cheap. I do like this mirror, that's for sure, front and back, and when I meet him downstairs he has another cocktail waiting, why thank you. He says that was just what I needed, can I call you again? Of course, I say, any time and then I kissed him on the lips just before I step outside and yes, it's fall, finally fall with the crisp cool wind blowing in my face and I can't believe how much has happened today.


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