Rough Trade (9 page)

When they were alone, Terry rubbed his sore ass and looked around. Bobby wondered what he thought of Reggie’s plans for the evening. He didn’t seem quite as naïve as Bobby had been when he first arrived at the ranch.

“This is some sweet setup.” Terry smirked. “Y’all got the best little whorehouse in Texas!”

Bobby realized it was true. He was a cowboy escort, or more correctly, a cowboy whore. His dick got hard again.

“You got that right. This is the best little whorehouse in Texas.” Bobby laughed as he slapped Terry’s naked butt and pushed him back down in the grass. He may as well take advantage of the new situation. With a growing bankroll under his mattress up in the barn, he wasn’t as naïve as all that.

Hiring David

Jonathan Asche

They hired David as an anniversary present to themselves. Some couples buy flowers and jewelry; Joe and Greg hired a whore.

David had an ad in the back pages of a local bar rag, under the heading “Models/Escorts.” Unlike the other men advertising in this section, David’s photo showed his face as well as his body. The photo in the ad showed him standing nude before the camera. David looked young (his ad stated he was twenty-four). His face was darkly handsome, his features suggesting Latin descent. He had an expression of someone who’d just experienced a sudden rush of pleasure, like someone started sucking David’s dick seconds before the picture was snapped. The body was athletic, toned muscles gleaming from an unknown light source, the glare muted slightly by the dark hair that covered David’s torso. His hand toyed nonchalantly with one of his nipples. His cock was strategically hidden by text. Joe and Greg wanted to see what was underneath the Helvetica Black.

David was expensive. Greg had to transfer money out of their savings account so they’d have enough cash to pay him. Remodeling their kitchen would have to wait.

The night David was set to arrive—Saturday at 8:00 p.m., the day after their anniversary, actually—Joe and Greg were a bundle of nerves. Though it seems impossible to believe, this would be the first time either of them had been with another man since they moved in together ten years ago. (That they had been together a decade astounded most of their friends.) The sex had always been good, but was becoming less frequent, and less interesting, over the years. Joe thought a three-way—with a stranger, an “escort”—might be just the thing to spice things up. No jealousy; just for fun. Ten years, they thought their relationship was secure.

When the doorbell rang at 7:58, Joe and Greg hesitated before answering it. It rang again. Greg answered it. Joe stood nervously behind his lover.

“Hey, guys,” David said casually. Like his face, his voice was Latin-flavored. “How’re you doing?” He was every bit as beautiful in person as he was in his ad. He was dressed simply but elegantly: white dress shirt, black jeans. A tad too much cologne, though Joe and Greg gladly overlooked this slight imperfection.

David held out his hand. Greg shook it and invited him in. He introduced David to Joe. Joe asked if David would like some wine. “Uh, sure,” David said, surprised by the offer.

David carried a black gym bag. “What’s in the bag?” Greg asked as he led David into the living room.

“Condoms. Lube. Toys, in case you guys are into that,” David said.

“I see,” Greg replied, trying to be casual. Then, desperate to get the matter out of the way, he said: “The money’s there on the credenza, in that envelope. The amount you said, on the phone.”

David only nodded.

Joe joined them with three glasses of Chardonnay. The glasses, cradled in his shaking hands, rattled and clinked so much it was a wonder they didn’t shatter.

Once the wine was distributed, Joe and Greg wondered how to proceed. They stood before David, hoping he found them attractive. Both men were appealing. Joe was the younger of the couple, thirty-seven, with sandy-blond hair, pale blue eyes, classic all-American-boy handsome. His body was nicely proportioned, sinewy muscles forming a pleasing array of ripples and curves. Greg was a well-maintained forty-two. His body was bulkier than Joe’s (he’d played football in college), but it was all muscle. His dark hair was turning silver (he was going to dye it, but Joe liked it how it was) and the lines around his mouth had deepened slightly; otherwise, there was little evidence of Greg’s advancing years. Also, regardless of his age, Greg had a great ass.

David did, in fact, find the men attractive. How they looked, though, was beside the point. This was a job. “Why don’t you guys get comfortable,” he suggested, setting down his glass of wine after only taking two sips. He started to unbutton his shirt.

Joe and Greg gulped down their wine and followed suit. Though the whole point of the evening was to get naked, they’d gotten dressed as if they planned to go out. They stripped like their clothes were on fire, getting down to their undies in less than a minute. David had just taken off his shirt. The chest and abs were even better in the flesh. “You guys want to do this in here or the bedroom, maybe?” he asked, slipping out of his shoes.

“Here’s fine,” Greg answered. Joe had to bite his tongue to keep from voicing his concerns about the upholstery.

Slowly, the pants came off. David unbuckled and unzipped while facing his clients, who were now sitting on the white sofa. He turned around, inching the pants down, showing off a little bit at a time, teasing his nervous johns with what was underneath. What was underneath was a smooth, firm ass, full and round, presented in a black jockstrap. Joe and Greg felt a twinge of excitement, making their hearts race and their cocks raise their sleeping heads.

Facing them now, David ran his hand down the center of his muscular torso, down to the bulging pouch of his jock. “You like?” he purred. Joe and Greg nodded. Their faces were now crimson. Their cocks were semi-erect.

“What did you guys have in mind?”

Both men were caught unawares by the question. Greg looked stunned. Joe started stammering: “Uh, um, well, we…we…um…”

“Suck your dick,” Greg blurted out. Now Joe looked stunned.

“That’ll work.” David grinned, slinking toward Greg. He straddled Greg’s legs, his packed jockstrap inches from Greg’s nose. “Go ahead. Take it out.”

His hand shaking, Greg reached for the jock, cupping the sizable mound. He rubbed his hand over David’s crotch, petting it. He looked up at the hustler, as if asking permission to go further. “Go on,” David encouraged.

Greg jerked the pouch of the jock to one side, letting David’s cock and balls spill out. The cock, still soft, was about seven inches, a few shades darker than his bronze skin, and cut. Greg didn’t need any more encouragement. His hand went to David’s flaccid dick, fondled it briefly, then he brought his lips to it.

“That’s it,” David sighed, thrusting his hips forward and running his hands through Greg’s salt-and-pepper hair. “Make it hard.” Greg’s tongue slithered along the underside of David’s cock. His lips closed around the shaft. His nose sank into David’s pubes. In no time, David’s tool was swelling inside Greg’s mouth.

Joe watched as his lover of ten years sucked David’s dick. Watched as Greg flicked the rent boy’s fat, blunt cockhead with his tongue. Watched as Greg licked this hustler’s weighty balls. Watched as Greg brought a hand around to the whore’s smooth bubble butt, Greg’s fingertips tracing the crack of his ass. As he watched, Joe burned with something other than lust.

“Hey, what’s with you?” David asked, bringing his hand—the one not holding Greg’s head in his crotch—to Joe’s chin. “You look like you’re being audited. We gotta do something about that.”

He pulled his cock, which was now hard and now nine inches, from Greg’s mouth. “Why don’t you stick that hot tongue of yours up my ass while I get your friend in the mood,” David suggested. With his eyes still glued to David’s gargantuan dick, Greg said sure.

They rearranged themselves. Greg got up, shucked off his underwear, and moved behind David. Greg’s cock was thick and drooling. He stood there stroking it while David got into position, kneeling in front of Joe, who sat sullenly on the sofa. “Why don’tcha take these things off,” David said, tugging at the waistband of Joe’s boxer-briefs. Joe took them off, glaring at his lover all the while. Greg didn’t notice. He was concentrating on David’s ass.

“Don’t worry,” David said, confronted by Joe’s semi-hard prick. “I’ll take care of you.” He took Joe’s cock into his warm mouth.

Kneeling behind David, Greg set his sights on the puckered delight waiting between those succulent globes. He dove between David’s butt cheeks, his tongue darting forward in search of the hustler’s asshole. He found it effortlessly, piercing it with his probing tongue. David pushed his body backward, pressing his ass against Greg’s face. Greg shoved his tongue deeper into David’s hole. David moaned, the volume muffled by Joe’s cock.

Joe still wasn’t getting hard. He just sat there, glaring at his lover munching on David’s ass. Greg caught a glimpse of Joe over the rounded peaks of David’s ass. He could tell Joe was brooding. “What’s the problem?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” Joe sniffed. “Don’t let me interrupt your fun.”

“What the fuck?” Greg sat back on his haunches. “This was
your
idea!”

“Well, it was a bad one.”

Joe pushed David away and stood up abruptly, his limp, saliva-soaked dick swinging between his legs. He started to reach for his underwear, but Greg stopped him, clamping a hand around his wrist. “No, you don’t! Don’t pull this shit. Not when this is what
you
wanted!”

“You seemed to want it more,” Joe said coldly. “You could hardly wait to start sucking his dick.”

“THAT’S WHAT WE HIRED HIM FOR! This is just for fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I know, but…I didn’t expect…You just forgot about me, like I wasn’t in the room!”

David was on his feet now, standing there, his nine-inch hard-on softening to seven and a half, as his clients re-evaluated their relationship. Partly it was professional pride that made David take control of the situation; a satisfied customer was a repeat customer. Mostly, though, it was the money. This night alone would finance a trip to Hawaii, and if things kept going like they were, he’d have to settle for a long weekend in Myrtle Beach.

“Guys, guys, guys,” David spoke up, raising his voice but keeping his tone soothing. He moved between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. Despite himself, Greg felt an electric spark from where David’s hand touched his skin. Joe felt it too; he was just too upset to acknowledge it. “We’re supposed to be having fun.” To Joe: “You call this having fun?”

“No,” Joe blubbered, looking down.

“No, it’s not fun,” David agreed. His hands moved off the two quarreling lovers’ shoulders, down their backs, his fingertips barely touching their skin but being felt with sledgehammer force. “Here you’ve been together ten years. That’s fucking amazing! That’s love. A little fun with an escort’s not going to change that. Why don’t you kiss and make up.”

Joe looked up at Greg. A wan smile pulled at his lips. “I wasn’t prepared for…
that,
that’s all.”

Greg put his hands on Joe’s narrow waist and brought him closer. Close enough for the hair on their chests to connect like Velcro. Close enough for their cocks to press together. All the while, David’s hands glided up and down their spines. “It’s okay,” Greg said, his voice low and sweet.

They kissed, their tongues pushing into each other’s mouths. The earlier jealousy faded, replaced by a raw lust—for each other. Joe and Greg pressed their bodies closer together, their hands groping wildly at the naked flesh they presented each other. Their cocks were now struggling to rise in what little clearance Joe and Greg allowed between their bodies.

David remained where he was, his hands still caressing, slipping deeper to trace the fuzzy lines of their respective ass cracks. His role in this had changed, and he adapted to that role quickly. “Suck his cock,” he whispered in Joe’s ear. “I want to see you suck his dick.”

Joe sank to his knees, his face sliding down the furry contours of Greg’s torso. Greg’s rod was hard once again, jutting up into the air, its thick, blue-veined shaft throbbing. This hard-on was for Joe and Joe only. A viscous drop of pre-cum oozed from the slit, leaving a shiny trail as it crawled down the underside of the shaft. Joe moved to catch that drop of juice, stopping it in its tracks at the base of Greg’s cock, just before the beginning folds of his nut-sac. His tongue traced the path of Greg’s salty juice, all the way up to the pulsing crown. His lips closed over Greg’s cock. Greg gasped, grabbing two fistfuls of Joe’s sandy-blond hair and sending his dick deeper into his lover’s warm mouth.

“That’s it, suck it. All the way down your throat.” It was David speaking, his voice a barely audible whisper. He’d removed his hand from Joe’s back, needing it to stroke his cock, now inflated to its full size.

Joe’s lips traveled up and down Greg’s cock. His tongue prodded the head. The walls of his mouth closed in around the shaft. Each time he nosedived into Greg’s pubes, Greg felt a wave of pleasure—like the last wave of pleasure, only more intense. Until it was starting to get too intense.

Not saying a word, Greg reached down, hooked a hand under Joe’s arm, and tugged upward. Joe got the hint, reluctantly got to his feet. They shared another long, probing kiss, Greg tasting the subtle flavor of his pre-cum in Joe’s mouth, then moved to the sofa. David moved the coffee table out of the way and sat on the floor so he could get a good view of the action.