Page 4 of The Chemist

Out onstage, Diesel pumped his arms to get the crowd going. They screamed and cheered while others threw cash on the stage at their feet. Diesel loved the feeling of power and control, knowing that it was up to him to decide how much or how little he showed these men. That their lustful eyes pleaded for mercy, begging him to show them more.

And he would… for a price.

Running his fingers slowly across his bare chest, he teased the rows of salivating men, no doubt wishing that they were onstage, licking every exposed piece of flesh that he allowed them to see.

Power was addictive.

Behind him, Jared removed Diesel’s hoodie and tossed it over his shoulder. Next, Jared moved in close, wrapping his arm possessively around Diesel’s body and began slowly licking the side of Diesel’s neck.

To the casual observer, the act was hot as fuck. Sinful, sensual, and boner inducing.

To Diesel, it was torture. He tried his best not to laugh or twist away from the fiendish succubus currently trying to make love to the side of his neck!

How could one man’s tongue be so fucking ticklish?

Across the room, Diesel spotted Isaac quietly giggling, knowing just how ticklish Diesel was whenever someone tried to suck on his neck.

Bastards.

Both of them.

Deciding he needed to break from Satan’s tongue, Diesel bent over, being sure to press his butt back onto Jared’s junk.

Let’s see how funny you find this.Diesel smirked, stealing a glance over at Isaac.

Isaac was no longer giggling.

Enjoy this, you little giggling bastard.Yes, Diesel could be an asshole like that.

Grinding his ass deeper into Jared’s lap, he winked at a handsome Filipino man who was waving a hundred-euro note up in the air.

Yeah, you want us, don’t you?

Diesel and Jared had been doing a joint strip routine for the past two years. At first, it was a bit awkward. Jared, being the tight-ass alpha male that he was, had trouble relaxing and letting Diesel take control from time to time. But as they got to know each other and their friendship developed, Jared began to relax and let Diesel take the reins… once in a while. And their routines became f’ing hot!

No. There was nothing sexual going on between them. No matter how much it looked like they wanted to fuck each other onstage or how much he played with Jared’s boner—hey, it was part of the job!—Diesel had no desire to stick any part of Jared’s body in his mouth or up his ass.

It took a certain blue-haired little freak a few months to learn that fact when he first moved into the mansion—poor guy had the biggest hard-on for Jared, even though he refused to admit it to himself. Eventually, Isaac began to see that Jared was basically just a brother to Diesel. Okay, perhaps a frat brother—ew. He couldn’t believe he compared himself to a beer-guzzling, brainless muscle pod.What the fuck was wrong with him?

They were performers.

They created fantasies when onstage. Fantasies that gave them access to their clients’ wallets and handfuls of cash stuffed into their underwear.

No. Diesel was not too proud to take his pants off and suck a dick for money. He was young, hung, and always up for a good time. Those that said otherwise were just jealous because their dick was too small to use to get what they wanted.

His dick was like a magical wand. He waved it around, and people became hypnotized by its power. He might not be the smartest man in the room or the best looking, but when it came to dicks, his commanded attention.

Moving in sync with the music, Diesel and Jared groped and ground and played with each other’s bodies—all to the encouraging whistles and cheers of the rich and powerful men who came toLa Maisonsearching for a good time.

After their three songs were done, Jared and Diesel joined their fellow brethren down on the floor, drinking and flirting with any horny guest who happened to make eye contact—or in Diesel’s case—stared at his dick for way too long.

Yes, his dick was big, but Diesel never considered it weapon-status worthy. Although, sometimes, it did inflict a lot of pain… especially on those who weren’t as “experienced” as they claimed to be.

“Your turn,” Diesel announced, giving the Hungarian politician sitting next to him a devilish grin.

They were heavily engaged in a game of “Never Have I Ever,” to which Diesel was painfully winning. Every friggin’ question the man asked, Diesel had done.

Never have I ever… had a foursome.

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