With the sixty-nine action going on with his buddy, the client worked himself to a climax fairly quickly. He moaned and wiggled his ass, which was Mykel's clue that he was about to shoot.
“Your buddy's gonna cum now,” Mykel said to the stranger, grabbing him by the hair underneath his client's ass and cock. “Don't even think about moving your mouth. You're gonna swallow every last drop of his load. Got that?”
The guy grunted a reply, and Mykel quickened his pace and shoved his cock deeper and faster into his client's ass. The client moaned loudly, and his body stiffened. Mykel knew he was spraying his load down his buddy's throat, even though he couldn't feel his client's ass tightening around his cock, like he usually felt when he was fucking someone as they came. The stranger beat his own cock as he swallowed his friend's load, and soon shot his own all over his belly.
Mykel smiled genuinely for the first time since he'd arrived in New York City. He was almost done here, and the entire scene had taken less than an hour. Sometimes sex with this particular client took only a couple of hours, but he wanted Mykel for the whole weekend. Just the company. But he'd let Mykel know when he called that it was just a one-niter. As it turned out now, it was only a one-hour gig. Better yet for Mykel. He got the same five thousand dollar fee, regardless.
He pushed the client roughly onto his stomach next to his friend, with his hands still tied to the headboard, and pulled the stranger by the hair, closer to his cock at the foot of the bed. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to stare at the two older men, and concentrated. It didn't take long. His cock was pretty much at his command within a couple of seconds.
“Open your mouth and eat my cum,” Mykel said to the stranger, and grabbed the post of the bed with his free hand that wasn't holding the gun, which he pretended to point at the client.
He felt the geyser build deep in his balls, and then shoot up the length of his shaft. It shot out of his cock with its usual gale-force and sprayed in every direction. It not only covered the stranger almost completely, but landed on the headboard, the wall behind them, the client and all over the bedspread on either side of the stranger. It was a pretty normal load for Mykel, but he could tell by the moans of admiration from his two “victims” that they were quite impressed. It was something he'd become very accustomed to over the years.
When the last of his cum had been drained of his cock, he looked at the two men covered in cum on the bed. It appeared as if he were contemplating their fate.
“I'm going to assume that you two aren't completely stupid, and that if I allow you to live, you will not get out of this bed or try to phone the police for at least fifteen minutes. Is that a safe assumption?”
Both older men nodded eagerly.
“You,” he pointed the gun at the stranger, “lie right where you are for fifteen minutes. Then you can untie your buddy here. My suggestion is that at that time, you both do the smart thing, and decide not to call the police at all. But that's your call, and I'll be long gone by then, so I won't be able to stop you.”
The poor guy just nodded.
“Good boy,” Mykel said. He walked out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen. He could hear whispered conversation coming from the bedroom, and knew his client was convincing his friend to wait the full fifteen minutes, and not to say a word to anyone. They both had reputations to protect, after all.
He put the ropes and the toy gun back in the closet and changed clothes in the dark in front of the elevator doors. Then he reached into the top drawer of the desk next to the closet and pulled out the check written out to his name. He double checked the amount, touched up his hair in the mirror hanging next to the doors, and then walked into the elevator and pressed the lobby button.
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“You look like shit, you know.” Mykel's best friend, Laura, sat across from him at the small table at Café Flor. It was just a few blocks from his house, and his favorite hangout.
“Thanks for the boost of confidence. I'm tired, that's all. I just got back from a quick trip to New York.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, as she blew into her cup of chai. “It's always a quick trip somewhere. New York, LA, Chicago, Rio, London. The list just goes on and on and on. It never stops with you. You're running yourself into the ground.”
“I'm staying busy,” Mykel said, and swallowed half a chocolate croissant in one bite. “That's a good thing. A very good thing. I'm still in high demand. In fact, I'm having to turn some gigs down. I only have a few more years before I won't be able to say that anymore, so I am taking advantage of it now.”
“Whatever. You're twenty-seven years old and fucking gorgeous. You don't look a day over 20, and you have the body of a fucking god. You're going to look hot forever, and I hate you for it. Besides all that, you have more money than God. You could stop hustling right now and live like a king forever.”
“Okay, you're hitting all my buttons today, bitch. I won't look hot forever. I have three good years left in me. Four at the most. But I love you for saying that. And I don't have more money than God. He's still a few million ahead of me, and I won't be happy until I at least catch up.”
“You're by far the richest guy I know,” Laura said, and picked at the chocolate from the last half of Mykel's croissant. “And I know quite a few rich fuckers.”
“And I do
not
hustle. I'm an escort and I provide a very expensive service that is worth every penny. Hustlers walk the streets, baby, and I definitely do not walk the streets.”
“Semantics,” Laura said, and waved the waiter over for another cup of chai. “My point is, that as gorgeous as you naturally are, you look like shit today. You're not taking care of yourself.”
“I am too. I'm spending the entire afternoon at the spa. Facial, mani and pedi, massage ... the works.”
“That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. You're not taking care of your heart, honey.”
“Oh Christ, not that shit again.”
“I'm serious. You never need to work again. You can retire and travel the world if you want.”
“It's not about the money, sweetie, and you know it. Daddy dearest left me quite comfortable when he croaked. But even before I inherited all his millions, I'd already made and saved a couple of mil myself.”
“Seriously?” she asked, looking in shock over the top of her cup. “A couple of million just from fucking?”
Mykel smiled, and tossed the last bite of his breakfast into his mouth. “I'm very good,” he mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.
“Wow! But, see, that just proves my point. You don't need the money. Why do you keep doing it? Why not relax and take care of yourself and enjoy life?”
“I'm a philanthropist.”
“You're full of shit, that's what you are.”
“I'm serious. I love sex, and I'm good at it, and guys pay me crazy amounts of money to fuck them. I don't keep any of it. Not a cent. Everything I make, I donate to charities.”
“Shut up!”
Mykel laughed. “I'm not lying. I have four charities that I am very generous with. I live off my inheritance and my investments. Everything I make from my escorting services goes to the charities.”
“But why not just donate it outright? Why bother with the hust ... the escorting services at all?”
“I get bored easily,” Mykel said flippantly. “It's a nice distraction. I love sex anyway, and if I can get guys to pay me good money that I then turn around and donate, then why not? It keeps me off the streets and I get to travel and see the all the most exotic places on earth. It's the best of all worlds, really.”
Laura just stared at her friend for a moment, and then raised her eyebrows. “But how are you going to find a boyfriend if you're off slutting around the globe?”
Mykel rolled his eyes. “Are we really gonna revisit that page? You know I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I don't want one.”
“Who doesn't want a boyfriend?”
“Me!”
“Everyone wants a boyfriend, darling. Even you, underneath that tough exterior. You're just afraid of committing yourself to someone and letting yourself love them. And it's no wonder, with the fucked-up role model your parents gave you. But you know that not all relationships are like that.”
“You're forgetting about Alex.”
“No, I'm not. I'm intentionally ignoring him. He was after only one thing. Okay, well two. Your huge cock and your huge bank account. He was definitely bad news. But no one gets it right the first time around. You just gotta keep putting yourself out there, and make yourself available for love.”
“No, I don't. I can keep fucking as many men as I want, whether it's for pay or not. And then I can send them home.”
“Like you sent Victor home?”
Mykel looked up at her with searing eyes. “That's not fair. We agreed not to bring him up.”
“Yeah, well, I changed the rules. He's a really good man, and all he wants is to settle down with you. Build a life together. Have a healthy relationship with you.”
“I don't need the mess of a relationship, and I don't want it, either.”
“Mykel Orlando Christian, you know that is not true. You have way too much love in that big heart of yours not to want to share it with someone. You're just giving up on yourself, and I won't allow that to happen.”
“Apparently,” Mykel said, as he signed the charge tab and stood up to leave. “And I love you for it.” He kissed Laura on the forehead, and opened the door for her, allowing her continued rants to be lost in the fresh breeze as they walked outside and headed for the spa.
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When he got home after the spa treatment, he had six voicemails. One was from Laura, thanking him for the full day of pampering. Four were from clients, requesting dates with him. He knew immediately that he would turn down three of them. But the guy from Rio was special. He'd worked with the guy and his boyfriend four or five times, and each occasion was better than the previous. They flew him out to Rio first class for a full week, put him up in a luxury hotel right on the beach, took care of all his expenses, and only asked that he fuck around with them two or three times while he was there. All of that, and a check for ten thousand dollars made it pretty hard for Mykel to say no to them. He made a mental note to call them the next morning to make the travel arrangements.
But the last call was from Victor, and that was the call that kept him awake right now, lying naked in bed and staring at the ceiling. Their last conversation had been almost a month ago, and as much as Mykel tried to convince himself that he was okay with that, and that he didn't miss Victor, he knew it was a lie. His cock began to harden at the thought of Victor's face, and his voice, and his laughter. He rolled over onto his stomach, to smother the impending erection, and quickly found himself falling asleep.
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“That was amazing, you know,” Victor said through a smile as he spooned himself against Mykel's frontside. They'd just made love and were lying in Mykel's king-sized bed.
“Thank you,” Mykel said, and kissed Victor on the neck. “I do aim to please.”
“Hey, I'm not one of your clients.”
“No, you're not. And you'd better be glad, or you'd be bankrupt by now.”
Victor laughed, and snuggled closer against Mykel's body. This was their seventh or eighth time together, and he was already more comfortable with Mykel than he'd been with his last two lovers, each of whom he'd lived with for a couple of years. There was something special about Mykel, and he'd felt it from the very beginning.
They met at a party that Victor's best friend was hosting. Victor had noticed Mykel the moment he walked in the door, as had everyone else. Mykel had a way of commanding a room like that. But Victor was shy, and certainly not in this guy's league, and so he kept his distance. But Mykel did not. No more than fifteen minutes after he'd arrived, he walked up to Victor and staked his claim. His eyes never left Victor's. He never allowed the conversation to drift away from the subject of Victor. He made sure Victor's glass was never empty. And at the end of the night, he invited Victor to go home with him.
“What was it about me that night that made you come and talk with me?” Victor asked, as he tried to hold back a yawn. “You obviously weren't looking for a new client. You never asked me for money, and didn't even tell me you were a call boy until our next date. So what was it?”
“It was this ass,” Mykel said, as he reached down and grabbed one cheek in his hand. “It was the hottest ass in the room, and I wanted it.” It was right on the tip of his tongue to tell Victor the truth: that the second he looked into Victor's eyes, his heart quivered in his chest; that when Victor smiled and his dimples popped up on his cheeks, he, Mykel wanted to dive in and get lost in them; and that when Victor walked past him and Mykel smelled his sweet scent, he thought he'd die if he didn't have that man. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't say it.