Page 3 of The Chemist

Lifting his hood over his head, he gave his cock a few extra tugs. In the mirror, he watched as the blood rushed to his cock, causing his meat to thicken in his boxer briefs. His cock always looked good when it was sitting low against the material—like a sleeping anaconda just waiting to wrap itself around its next victim.

Admiring the thickness of his shaft, he thought about all the men… and a few women who lost themselves in the pleasure of his beast. Remembering the way their eyes rolled back in their heads or the way their bodies quivered beneath him was…fuck, those memories were making him horny.

He needed to get laid. Not just shoot his load because someone was paying him to, but actually enjoy himself, connect with somebody…

Connect with somebody? Ha! Who are you kidding?

Diesel’s jaw tightened as he stared at his reflection once again.

Who was he trying to kid?

Giving himself one last scan, he adjusted the waistband of his briefs, then adjusted the hoodie he was wearing. The zipper was undone, and his chiseled chest was on full display. He was going for that stoner-fuckboy look that always made men hard in their pants. It was that combination of not giving a shit and always being down to party that seemed to resonate with his client base.

Damn, he looked good. Even he would fuck himself.It was time.

Turning, he made his way down the short corridor from the guy’s dressing room to the theatre’s stage. Diesel nodded to a few of the crew members as he strutted past them.

He couldn’t exactly remember their names, but one guy liked to smoke pot out behind the maintenance garage, while the other guy liked to get his dick sucked by the dancers on the DL. Always on the down low, these straight, questioning, sometimes-married straight guys… if you can call someone straight who enjoys having their knob worked over before coming down a man’s throat in the darkness of a secluded maintenance area.

Diesel didn’t judge. Every guy’s secrets were his own.

So long as no one was getting hurt, he didn’t care who got their dick sucked, when, where, or by whom.

“You ready, brother?” a familiar voice asked over his shoulder as a large warm hand landed on the back of his neck.

“Always. You want to take the lead? Or should I?” Diesel asked Jared as he stepped up beside him. He already knew the answer.

He and Jared had been best friends since they both started working atLa Maisonseveral years ago. Jared was a good guy. Caring, passionate, loyal to a fault. The kind of guy you would do anything for to keep around and in your life—even share him with a certain blue-haired, attention-deficient little shit who liked to play pranks and had the loudest freakin’ orgasms Diesel had ever heard.

Glancing down at Jared’s package, he wondered if perhaps Isaac’s orgasmic screams had more to do with the size of Jared’s rod and not the need to rub it in everyone’s faces that he was getting dicked down on the regular.

No, Diesel wasn’t jealous. Well, yes, okay. He was a tad jealous that he wasn’t bustin’ a nut as often as his best friend and his best friend’s fuck-hole—a.k.a. Isaac. But, no, he was notjealous of the disgustingly sweetrelationshipthat the two of them had been sharing for almost a year now.

Nope. Not jealous. Not even a bit.

“I’ll lead,” Jared noted with a wink of his eye.

Like there was ever a question. Always the top in the relationship.

That boy’s butthole was probably so tight that it could make diamonds if sand ever got caught between his butt cheeks and left there for an extended period of time.

Actually, that was kind of gross. But the point was that Jared—who was gay—was one of those “strictly top” kind of guys. How boring.

We get it. You’re a control freak and tough and like to act like the hero in the bedroom.

But in actuality, it was the guys who flipped who controlled all the power between the sheets. They were the dominators and the submissives. They were the ones who were able to give power as well as take it away. If one was bottoming and not getting what they wanted from their top, they could easily take control and seize power over their partner.

Kind of like him.

Diesel was one of those guys who liked to switch-hit. He liked to top, bottom, lead the train, onload/offload passengers… you name it. Diesel enjoyed doing it. He even played with titties from time to time. While pussy was not Diesel’s meal of choice, he didn’t mind having a bite here and there, especially when a questioning young dude was involved in the meal.

Pulling the curtain back, Diesel slapped his best friend’s ass as Jared hopped up onstage to the sound of cheering, horny, rich men.God, he loved that sound.

Smiling, Diesel joined his buddy and let the music and cheers and cocaine take control of his body.

He loved the feeling. He was happy, confident, a tad arrogant, and horny as fuck. Perfect for getting down and frisky with a room full of cash-loaded, horny dudes who all wanted to shower him with attention and alcohol.

It was great being wanted.

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