Page 1 of Fragments
4 years ago…
“Ineed a hit.”
He grunts, acknowledging that he heard me. But he makes no immediate moves to give me what I want. It irks me.
But then he pushes up into me and my eyes roll back.Sure, yea. That’s much better than the line of coke.
Positioning myself, I remember the angle, making sure to slope my neck and bite my lip, because they like that. Of course what’s happening feels good, it always does, but I also need to focus on making thislookgood for them.
It’s what they’re paying for.
A strong hand runs up to my throat where it stops, tightens, and squeezes. My face burns, and I clench my teeth.If he’s gonna get rough, I need more drugs.
“I need a—” My choked voice fades into a groan when his dick brushes my prostate again. “Hit.”
He breathes warmth on the back of my neck, and chills sheet my flesh, nipples bunched up and sensitive. Which reminds me…
My eyes open and I lock down the man across the room, who’s sipping scotch and staring at me, a giant, visible erection showing itself through his tailored dress pants.
“So you’re, like, the silent partner?” I murmur in his direction, my lips quirking at theoh-so seriouslook on his face.
He looks like he wants to ignore me, or even call me adisgusting faggot slut—the usual MO of guys like him—but he can’t even try to act like he isn’t interested in what’s happening on this side of the room. Not only can I see his whole cock right now beneath the measly fabric he’s wearing, but the heat in his gaze is scorching me alive.
My mind sweeps up instantly, in thoughts of what he probably wants to do…
Drop that glass on the fucking floor and come over here. Whip out your huge dick and shove my mouth down onto it. Fuck my face until I’m crying while your friend tears up my ass.
Ravage me, stranger.
I guess I’m not the only one having these thoughts, becauseJohn Doepauses his meticulous thrusts and pulls out, a shivering groan leaving his lips, audible to my eager ears even over the pumping bass of the music coming from downstairs.
He taps my thigh. “Up, baby. Let my boy sample some of this sweet cunt.”
His filthy words in that hushed, growly voice send a zip up my spine. But I blink myself out of it, standing up slowly. “Set me up. I won’t ask again.”
I catch a glimmer of impressed amusement on the friend’s face while John Doe chuckles. “I told you. This one’s a live wire.”
He reaches over, grabbing a sterling silver tray, cutting up some white lines with a black American Express while I watch anxiously. Using a rolled-up hundred, he snorts a line, whipping his head back and wiping his nose. Then he hands it to me.
When I bend to do my line, he smacks my ass.Hard. The sting feels good, and my balls throb. But still, I can’t fight the irritation I’m feeling.These guys are always the same.
I think maybe that’s why I’m so often annoyed by my clients. It’s the unoriginality of it all. I can predict their moves, anticipate what they’re going to do or say next. Just once, I wish someone would do something different.
I wishanythingwould change. Because I feel like I’m drifting…
I’m always drifting.
With the drugs in my system, I’m shivering with need. Everything is fast and in high definition. The thumping music of the club just downstairs rattles my veins, darkness and shadows surrounding us. I’m bathed in red light as I stride, naked, to the center of the room, approaching the quiet stranger. He’s fiddling with his video camera that’s set up off to the side.
Things like this are allowed in here… For a price. Only high rollers are allowed in these rooms. And I don’t come up here for less than five-grand an hour.
Not that I need the money. It’s theprinciple.
I like to get fucked, and I like doing it with strange men.Bonus points if they’re straight, extremely wealthy, and powerful government officials, like ol’ John Doe over there.
Sparse light catches the shimmer of glitter on my skin, highlighting the curves of my muscles. The stranger likes it. I can tell, because he isn’t messing with the camera anymore. Now he’s practically drooling while his hungry gaze slides all over me. Sidling up to him, I reach out hesitantly to play with the open collar of his white shirt.
“Whatever you want… it’s yours,” I whisper over his lips.
