Jamie Lake has written numerous acclaimed gay romance novels, showing a unique aptitude for bringing a sense of flare to erotic encounters. We are exceptionally lucky to have been given permission to share the first book from one of his best series – Bad Boy: Naughty at Night.
Furthermore, Jamie Lake has generously made Book 2 available for FREE to the first 250 people who read Book 1 here at queeReview! We’ll post a link at the bottom. Enjoy!
“Remember, I’m kinda new at this,” Peter fibbed a little. He wasn’t exactly brand new – he had done it before. He’d even gotten paid for it. He wasn’t an expert though, so he didn’t want Nate getting mad if he made a mistake. This was one of the casino’s top high rollers and he was afraid of being punished for a mistake. He twisted his bottle of essential oils open, releasing the heady aroma of eucalyptus and peppermint into the air. Truth was, he was nervous.
It’s not as though it was first time he’d ever had a man in his bedroom, he’d certainly taken advantage of the rare night of privacy while his roommate was away.
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Nate mumbled into the massage table, face down, his shirt off. He was a handsome older gentleman, Peter noted, maybe in his mid-fifties that resembled a young Jeff bridges, with graying hair. Unlike Bridges, Nate kept his locks cut short. His powerful shoulders and confident stance made him look like the CEO type.
Except Peter knew what he really was, not a CEO by far — Nate was a made man; the mob, the mafia — whatever they called them nowadays, Peter didn’t know but the power that seeped out of Nate’s pores was intoxicating.
Beefy, well-built. It’d obviously been awhile since he’d gotten laid, Peter could smell the pheromones emitting from him as strongly as a man’s cologne. It made his mouth water, and he knew that it would only take one touch in the right place and he was sure to come undone beneath his hands.
Peter bit his lip and allowed his eyes to roam over the taut body lying before him, waiting patiently for him to begin.
He took a deep breath and steadied himself, concentrating on the soft ambient music filtering out the in-built speakers. As much as he wanted to just jump right on Nate– and oh god! did he want to – he knew the benefits of taking his time. After all, there was no hurry.
Nate was the type of man who was used to being serviced, that always got what he wanted, Peter could tell, and he was going to enjoy this immensely.
The candles flickered, casting dancing amber shadows across the cream-coloured walls, as the oil pouring into Peter’s hand slid down his strong muscular forearms. Two, three drips fell from his elbow and splashed onto Nate’s skin.
Peter smiled to himself as the mature man’s buttock’s clenched unwittingly under his jeans at the unexpected sensation.
“You ready?” he asked in his deep rich voice, rubbing his hands together to evenly distribute the oil.
“Better take off my pants,” Nate said, sitting up and unbuttoned them, he was thick and had a semi-already. Peter had never seen a bulge that big actually, and the thought of what lay beyond his boxers made his imagination go wild.
“All right,” Nate said, lying face down on the bed. “Do me.”
Shivers went up Peter’s spine at the command. He swallowed hard.
He laid his strong hand on Nate’s upper back; the pressure was firm but not painful as he slid his hands up and down Nate’s upper back and shoulders, gliding his thumbs like magic, working out the kinks and knots that had gathered there from days spent behind a desk.
“Mmm, that’s right,” Nate said, his voice barely more than a growl of pleasure as he enjoyed the pressure running up and down his spine.
It was the type of growl that drove men crazy and got them hard, thick and fast, and Peter was no exception.
His heart was racing and his cock was stirring. It’d been so long since Peter had gotten laid and his mind couldn’t shift from the thought of sitting on Nate’s lap, riding his cock like bronco, kissing him holding on to the back of his neck, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, gripping hard as he began to lose control…
His eyes floated down to Nate’s bubble butt; his boxer briefs were floating over his thick rump playing peek-a-boo and Peter had to admit he had a nice ass. Must have played football when he was younger but he hadn’t lost his muscular tone.
Peter’s hands slid down from the center of Nate’s back to just above his rump, his thumbs sliding under the elastic over either side of his cheeks then meeting in the middle; servicing him just the way he was supposed to.
“Is this okay?” Peter asked, watching him closely for the barely perceptible signs that he should continue or stop.
“Oh yeah, you do have good hands,” Nate responded.
Peter smiled to himself in satisfaction and slid the boxers down to Nate’s thighs, the cool air running over his bare ass as he massaged the inside of his cheeks, his fingers gripping just under his pelvis then sliding back up to the center of his crack.
“Oh, yeah,” Nate rumbled, “Mmm … that’s what daddy likes.” The words drifted into the air almost unconsciously.
Fuck this was hot. Peter thought. He was getting desperately turned on and he could tell Nate was too. He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.
His mind was racing. How he just wanted to pull Nate’s boxers down and suck that thick cock of his he knew was hiding inside. He could smell their mutual arousal, the strong, distinctive aroma of pre-cum mingling with the peppermint of the oil.
Nate shifted and turned around to stare up at Peter with those blue-grey eyes of his and thick eye brows which were raised in sly expectation. It was the type of stare that let Peter know Nate was in control and expected to get what he wanted, one way or another.
Peter’s eyes looked away, not wanting to lose himself in that hypnotic gaze until Nate lifted his chin so his eyes were locked on his.
“Now,” he said smoothly, sternly. Peter quivered. “I know you’re good with your hands, so how about those lips?”
God Peter wanted to blow him, to feel that thick cock melt in his mouth. He’d never gone that far with a client and promised he wouldn’t, no matter how hot they were but God damn!
This was strictly an erotic massage, that was it. But it’d been so long since he’d gotten laid, and God! was he needing it bad, today more than ever.
He began to kneel down toward Peter’s crotch, the hot aroma of his erection turning him on.
But Nate stopped him. “Not those lips,” he said in that low voice that turned Peter’s legs to jelly. “Let’s see about your other ones … between your cheeks.”
Peter was getting wet and sweaty with the thought of it but his eyes migrated over to the clock ticking away steadily underneath the smooth, piping music.
He knew, sensibly, that he’d better cut the session short before things went too far. He couldn’t afford to lose this job.
Besides, Peter had to teach school in the morning. And kindergarteners weren’t the easiest of students. It was the principal that Peter feared the most though. If he ever found out what Peter’s secret night job was, he’d be sure to fire him on the spot.
One Month Earlier
“Sissy flicked her boogers at me!” the dark haired boy whined, swinging back and forth and pouting in front on Peter on the colorful carpet. He wiped a smudge of dirt from the boy’s pale face and smiled. Johnny’s lips formed a deeper pout. He was a short five year old and had to make up for that disadvantage in other ways. He usually chose to tattle on the kids who didn’t play the way he liked.
“Nah-uh!” the little five year old girl protested, “I only wiped it on him a little bit.” her many ponytails splayed out around her face and jumped with every shake of her head. She had beautiful dark skin and huge brown eyes.
Peter stood up and stretched his back and looked up at the dusty peeling ceiling of the large classroom. Only half of the lights were actually working and it made the room a little darker than he would have liked. There was the same smell that permeated everywhere in the building, as if they didn’t make a cleaner strong enough to get rid of little kid sweat and molding baseboards.
Peter sighed and tried to keep from laughing. These kids were hilarious. Already so small and yet they were developing real personality. The boy ducked from a swipe aimed at him and almost got her back, but Peter stopped them with a stern look.
“Settle down you two,” he said rising from the mini-chair he sat in, “It’s almost graham cracker time.” A gust of wind blew hard against the old windows, shaking them violently. Peter shivered and buttoned his shirt another button.
“Yay!” They both said hopping up and down and bouncing over to the other chaotic kids. At the mention of food the children gathered together and waited expectantly with hungry looks on their faces. Peter looked around at their cute little faces while he waited until he had all of their attentions.
“All right everybody, the first person to sit down gets the crackers first.” he said. He wondered if he had any graham crackers left. He looked over to the tall cabinets that covered an entire wall of the classroom. They all rushed to sit down first then started pushing each other fighting over who was going to get it.
He looked back, thank God he was patient with these kids. Kids never bothered him, no matter how they might whine or throw temper tantrums he had a gift of patience with them. He went over to the cabinets and opened one, searching each shelf in it for a box of graham crackers. It smelled like coffee and stale crackers in the cabinet and dust drifted out and floated above his face. Finding an opened box at the top, his fingers reached for it and pulled it down. He looked inside the empty feeling cardboard box.
There were hardly any graham crackers left. He’d forgotten to buy some more when he was at the Seven Eleven last night. Even though he was just about dead broke, he always set aside some money to buy the kids graham crackers since for many of them the meal at school was the only meal they were going to get all day. And even though his school was always crying budget cuts, he didn’t mind digging into his paltry salary for the kids. He wished he could do more but even crackers was a squeeze.
“Shoot,” he said to himself. He heard a chorus of giggles behind him as he closed the cabinet.
“Oooh!” Johnny said, “You said the ‘S’ word!” Johnny was always the first one to point out any of his classmates’ mistakes or tell on them when they did something wrong. He had that ‘I’m telling on you’ expression on his face that Peter sometimes dreaded.
“Oooooh!” everyone chimed in.
Peter blushed and smiled as he looked at the children. “I’m sorry. Don’t tell anybody okay?” he said in a tone of voice that indicated that keeping the secret was a big responsibility. Most of the cherubic faces nodded and a few put a finger to their lips.
“Only if you give us extra cookies,” Johnny blackmailed, another one of his talents.
“You’re something else,” Peter said walking over to them.
“No, I’m not! I know you are but what am I?” Johnny exclaimed.
“It’s just an expression, Johnny?” Peter responded with a smile. What to do? What to do? “Today we’re going to learn all about sharing.”
Johnny scrunched his face, “I don’t like sharing.”
“Well, we’re going to learn it. And each of us are going to break our crackers into two and give it to the person next to us.” He tried to sound like it was a cool thing to do and couldn’t wait to do himself.
The kids groaned. He felt bad about it. These kids were smart, they knew he didn’t have enough. Most of these kids lived in the inner city and were used to not having enough. That’s why he liked working there, he really wanted to make a difference.
He passed the crackers out one at a time, each kid breaking it in half. It took a while to get the kids to settle down but eventually after crackers they were able to take their naps and he could have a moment to himself. He was exhausted.
As he tucked the last kid in and stood up the door opened. A beautiful blond woman in her thirties and wearing Chanel No 5 snuck in, she tiptoed over to him and he shook her hand, immediately recognizing her as one of the kid’s parents. Her perfectly lined eyes lit up at the sight of him. Peter was a beautiful guy and had caught the eye of many of the parents, even though many of them knew or assumed he was gay.
“Hey handsome,” she whispered softly, “how’s it going?” Her breath smelled like mints and chocolate. He wondered how many women must hate her because she could eat chocolate and still have that figure.
“Good, Virginia. Thanks,” he whispered back, watching the eighteen sleeping kids on their mats, “I’m sorry she fell asleep already. I don’t want to wake up the rest of the kids.” She shook her head and leaned on the desk next to him.
“No, it’s fine. I just got off work early and I thought I’d take her to the park. But it’s fine. I’ve got some time to kill. So how have you been?” She was dressed like a celebrity; Peter tried to remember where she worked.
“Great, you know just keeping these little guys busy. I’m actually hoping to get a raise this week. I could really use it, you know.” She probably didn’t with how fancy she dressed. She was the exception among the parents. “It’s just that the principal told me that he needs to talk to me about something specific. I hope that’s what he means. I’ve been due for a raise for a little while.” He brushed some of the dust from the cabinet off his shoulder away from her.
“And … seeing anyone?” Her arched eyebrows rose even higher and she looked hopeful.
“Huh?” he asked shocked at her forwardness and he swallowed. “Um … no, still single.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. There’s this guy-”she started but he cut her off.
“No, no, no blind dates. Thank you. It’s sweet. I’ve got enough going on in my life to keep my busy.” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. She had an understanding expression on her face but he knew that she was going to insist anyway. He looked at his shoes hoping she would see that he was uninterested.
“No, but this one is different. You two would make the perfect match. He’s actually one of the kid’s fathers. The new kid, Johnny’s.” Peter smiled, he could only imagine what Johnny’s father was like. Johnny took up at least fifty percent of his attention during the day always talking about who was doing what.
“Oh, you know I didn’t get to meet his parents yet but … it’s really sweet of you Virginia but really. I don’t have time for a relationship.” He looked her in the eyes now hoping she would accept his answer and not persist. She smiled and met his eyes, her eyes were strangely triumphant looking and made him hold back from fidgeting.
“Parent. He only has a daddy. A single daddy by the way and anyway, there’s always time for love,” she said winking at him, “Just think about it.”
Peter didn’t want to think about it. It had been a little over a year and a half since he’d last been in a relationship, but the memory still hurt. He thought that both of them had been perfectly happy. He was perfectly happy. But apparently his boyfriend was only keeping him around until he found someone more interesting to go out with. The embarrassment of finding his man in bed with another guy caused hot flames to burn up his cheeks. Since they had been living together in his boyfriend’s apartment, Peter had had to leave immediately. He had nowhere to go and was left on the street until he found Anton.
“Shoot, I have a meeting with the principal. Would you mind just keeping an eye on them for like 10, 15 minutes?”
“Sure, no problem,” she said. She watched him as he made his way to the door.
He slipped out the heavy oak door, careful to tiptoe around the kids, and practically sprinted down the abandoned and litter covered hallway, looking at his watch along the way. Teacher’s open doors lined him one either side. All of them had already convened in the auditorium, apparently. If there was one thing Principal Close hated, it was tardiness and he was about to be three minutes late, a mortal sin in the eyes of the school’s principal.
He nearly fell in a puddle of suspicious liquid. The janitor was an old man that was losing his eyesight. A consequence was that sometimes he missed some of the kid’s messes. Peter just prayed that this was a case of spilled water and nothing worse. He wiped the bottom of his shoes of on the dingy tile floor and kept running. He was supposed to be going to some mandatory staff meeting for the teachers and he only hoped he could slip in without being noticed.
The auditorium was on the other side of the school, right near the front entrance. It was a large open room with rows and rows of tidy, small chairs. Every week, a different class was assigned to cleaning the bare concrete floors and straightening the chairs. This week it was Ms. June, Peter thought, but he wasn’t sure. He rounded the corner and stood at the double doors. There were painted over with a fading crimson coat of cheap paint. This auditorium hadn’t been renovated in years. It smelled like stale milk and little kid sweat, and probably had for some time. It desperately needed new doors or new curtains across the stage to make it look like one of the more modern schools’ auditoriums. As he cracked the door open, the auditorium was already so full that he was going to have to push his way through the crowd and step around several people to find an open seat. There was no way he could do so unnoticed. He’d take the brunt of Mr. Close’s punishment, for sure.
“Mr. Cox!” the principal quipped loudly, stopping mid-sentences as his booming voice echoed off the walls and ceiling of the school auditorium. All heads turned to him and Peter sat down in a child sized seat. “So glad you could join us. We were just talking about you actually.” His dark eyes scanned Peter tiredly. He looked like a stressed man, probably worried with the burden of taking care of this school.
“Were you?” Peter asked, trying to lighten the mood, “What was it this time?” He looked around smiling at his co-workers faces. He was friendly with most of them. Everyone giggled. The principle was a tall man, even taller standing up on the stage’s auditorium all by himself with the teachers sitting in the crowd. He was thin and balding, in his fifties, with a mildly friendly face. Peter pinned him as an older, smaller Bruce Willis. The actor hid his age well, but Mr. Close had not been that lucky.
“Budget cuts actually. We were talking about the district wide budget cuts and how they were affecting our different departments, including yours.” Principal Close wore a sympathetic expression and he looked a little tired. His wrinkles looked deeper than usual.
“Including mine? How so?” Peter sat up and thought about the lousy half a cracker that he had just fed his students an hour ago.
“Well,” the worried principal said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he paced the stage back and forth, “It seems that we’ll have to put a hold on the chairs that you ordered, for starters.” He stopped pacing and looked right at Peter and waited for his expected upset response.
“What? But the ones we have now are falling apart. If one of those kids falls, you’re just asking for a lawsuit.” Peter already knew that it was no use but he had to try. He felt like crying and stamping his foot like one of his students but put on a determined expression to hide his hurt. He saw his hopes of a raise sail right out those awful double doors. Apparently that hadn’t been what Principal Close had wanted to talk about privately.
“Well, then use duct tape or glue to hold them together for now – you know it’s your responsibility to keep your kids safe. There’s not a lot more we can do.” Peter was getting angrier and less hurt by the minute. He stood up and all the other faces in the room followed his movement. The whole auditorium seemed to be holding its breath in outrage and sympathy for his cause.
“And I supposed the school’s peewee football team will be getting new uniforms … again,” Peter said in angry spite, the words coming out like daggers, more viscous than he might have intended. The principal looked away for a brief moment at the floor and squeezed his fist as if gathering patience for a child. That demeaning stance made Peter even madder.
“Well, as you very well know, the school’s peewee football team brings in badly needed revenue and their department supports itself. Whereas other departments are more like a leaky faucet, slowly draining us of everything we have.” Principal Close gave him a pointed stare and Peter held his tongue. The principal’s tone held a finality to it so Peter sat down defeated. He was almost tempted to sulk and pout like little Johnny.
He wanted to tell the principal off, he was such a stick in the mud who seemed to always blame the school problems on Peter’s department. Peter couldn’t help that some people didn’t consider his area very important. Art was good for the mind and soul. And Lord knows, these kids needed a little improvement of both. If left to grow up in this system without some kind of beauty, Peter knew they were more likely to commit crime, never get their high school diploma, and wind up in jail. He just wanted to be the one who lit their spark for a better life.
Rubbing his temples between his thumbs, Peter couldn’t wait for this day to end so he could just go home. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was already there, with the school miles away from him, and was relaxing as he fully intended to do that evening.
Or maybe not. The moment he walked through the door that night, his obnoxious roommate Anton was down his throat. He spewed a mountain of stressful litany for almost a full minute before Peter realized that he hadn’t heard a word and should maybe pay attention. He took a deep breath and collected his patience before interrupting Anton.
“Wait-wait-wait.” Peter said, trying to remain calm, “What now?” He was irritated, the apartment smelled like cigarettes again and he hated that. Anton had agreed to smoke outside before he invited Peter to move in, but he always smoked inside when Peter wasn’t home. Peter couldn’t say anything because technically the apartment was Anton’s, and it was a huge favor he was doing to allow him to stay here.
“I said, the cable bill is still not paid and the internet is three months late. Are you planning on paying them anytime soon? I know you’re about to get that raise so you need to pay up.” Anton’s voice got more sarcastic with each word. He was angry, maybe rightfully so with Pete, and he wasn’t going to let him dodge the questions anymore. Peter felt his chest turn to ice and his headache worsen.
“Look, I’ll talk to them, I just need a little more time.” Peter just wanted to eat, shower and sleep. He did not want to talk about his chronic money troubles after his day at work, especially not the raise he had promised Anton last week to get him off his back.
“A little more time my ass. If they cut the cable off and I miss Game of Thrones, I swear to god Peter….” His voice trailed off under the threat. Anton acted as if missing Game of Thrones was the end of the world and if Peter caused it he must die. Peter tried not to smile, he was sure it would piss off Anton and would surely make his headache worse if Anton were to start really yelling.
“Cool it, Anton. I told you I’ll take care of it so I will.”
Peter collapsed in their couch. Anton and him had been roommates for the last year and a half. That was back when Peter was even more dirt broke, even more so than now, and willing to do anything to get off the streets. Then Anton, an old friend from high school, had resurfaced in his life like a God send. He had his own place with two rooms and was looking to split the rent with a roommate. What started out as an ideal situation quickly turned to hell within weeks. But Peter needed a place to stay so he could cut his expenses after his parents cut him off financially, so he wasn’t in a position to complain.
Peter wanted to work in the inner city to help the kids in need and that wasn’t exactly a prize occupation for a Vanderbilt, according to his father who wanted him to become a part of his law firm. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted. His dad argued that being a lawyer allowed you to really help people, but Peter wasn’t convinced. He just saw it as one side conning the other, and whoever paid the most won. He didn’t want any part of that. His dream was to help the people who really needed it, whether they had good money or not. But Peter had always been a bit of a rebel, his parents had seen that early. Now that he was old enough to understand it, he never allowed money to dictate his life, even though he was seeing how much it hurt to be cut off financially.
Either way, he had to make it on his own because even if he did get over his pride and ask his parents for money, his dad would never agree. Not after he found out that his son was gay.
He hadn’t spoken to his parents in over a year and at the sight of things, they weren’t exactly going to have a happy family reunion anytime soon.
“And furthermore,” Anton said rambling on, “Where the hell is your half of the rent?” He stood in front of Peter now in his sexy Adidas track pants that Peter used to love to see him wear. Peter wondered when he stopped thinking that Anton was sexy. He would to pacify Anton at least for one day so he could sleep.
“Look, I’m going to get paid any day now. I just need a little more time. The school is being funny with our money, with budget cuts and everything, you know?” Peter’s voice almost sounded pleading, as if begging Anton to understand his situation. His head ached now and he couldn’t look at his angry roommate so he looked around the finely furnished but messy apartment.
“What the fuck dude?” Anton’s limited vocabulary was grating across Peter’s nerves. “If you can’t afford to pay for rent, then I’m going ot have to get somebody that is. And I’m serious this time.” Anton threatened.
Peter knew he wasn’t joking. He’d said it more than once before and the clock was ticking. Peter knew that he couldn’t afford to push Anton to kick him out. He had no where to go, and even if he did, he had no money to get there. He couldn’t live off the streets again – it was sure to be even worse than the last time. He took a deep breath. He just needed a glass of wine to take edge off, only they’d ran out and by the loose change left in his pockets and the empty cabinets, good chances are they didn’t have any left.
“I’m doing the night shift again tonight at the casino and when I get back in the morning, I better see some money in this basket,” Anton said, slamming a basket down on the edge of their coffee table where they normally put their half of the bills.
Peter sighed. How he was going to come up with it? He had no idea.
Peter just needed to jack off. That’s probably what he needed more than anything to take the stress away. He often did that to relieve himself and since he couldn’t remember the last time he had a relationship, it was going to be another night with just him, his right hand and a bottle of lotion. He’d spent most of the night looking through the classified ads online for another job but everything available was full time and during his work hours at school.
He wasn’t about to give up the one thing he was passionate about just to take on another job. Besides, he loved being a teacher. If only he had a partner, a real partner that could support him.
As he listened to the silence of the room, the only sound the buzzing of the refrigerator and gentle fan of the laptop in front of him, he thought about how nice it would be to finally meet the one. To meet someone who could support him during tough times, who would give him a back rub when his muscles were tense, who would laugh with him and fuck his brains out when he needed to escape.
Peter smiled at the thought. He had an active imagination and soon found himself trailing from the classified ad section to the gay personals section. He’d made an account a few weeks ago. He mostly went on there for jack off material since the chances of meeting the one in North Las Vegas, let alone online, was next to zero. Most guys in the area, were too old, too out of shape or complete nutcases.
So, he liked to look at the profiles from the next town over, Las Vegas. That’s where all the hot guys were. Sure, you couldn’t have a conversation longer than 30 seconds with them and good chances were they’d be selfish in bed but at least he could fantasized.
His laptop hummed patiently as he logged in quickly. He’d created a fake profile name to protect his identity and secure his job. He could only imagine if some parent or worse yet the principal found out he was on a gay dating site. He could kiss his career goodbye saranari.
He had a bunch of private messages. He’d been pen pals in a sense with a few of them that weren’t exactly his type but were friendly enough. He didn’t see any harm in being nice to everybody.
Bleep! A new message came through on the screen and a smile spread across Peter’s lips. The subject heading said Hey Sexy and he recognized it right away from SilverDaddy702. The older guy he’d been corresponding with the last couple of weeks. He wasn’t exactly Peter’s type according to his description online but he liked his confidence and his persistence. It felt good to be chased by somebody, anybody and figured what the hell?
– Hey SilverDaddy
-Hey Sexy, what you doing tonight?
– Same old, same old.
– Jacking off?
– Alone? Why not wait for me?
-You’re such a tease.
– No, I’m serious. You know what I’d do if I got my hands on you?
Peter stretched his fingers out over the laptop’s keyboard. What the heck, I’ll bite. He thought to himself.
– I’d have you moaning all night long. You need someone to treat you right. You deserve that.
– You’re such a charmer.
– So how long are you going to string me along? You horny?
-Let’s not fuck around anymore. Let me make you feel good tonight.
Peter thought about it for a second. It’s not like he’d never had a guy over before when his roommate was gone, it’s just that it wasn’t like him to hook up for random sex. He looked around the bare living room. He was sitting on the only couch that faced their small TV. When him and Anton wanted to watch TV together, they had to awkwardly scoot to opposite ends, as to avoid touching each other. Usually Peter just gave up and sat on the threadbare carpet floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but he wasn’t interested in getting cuddly with Anton.
Peter sighed. Looked at the ticking clock. His roommate wouldn’t be home at least for another 10 hours. What the hell? Getting fucked all night was just the distraction he needed.
Damn. Peter thought to himself as the sophisticated older gentleman walked in the door. He was a lot hotter than his pictures. He resembled a mix of Robert De Niro and George Clooney.
“Nice place,” he said in a low confident tone as he stepped inside and looked around. It wasn’t much to look at, Peter knew. Just a few used couches, a couple of things on the wall but they tried to make the most of what they had.
But Peter just said, “Thanks.”
“I’m Tony,” the man said thrusting out his hand and giving Peter a firm handshake. He was Italian American and sexy as fuck. Silver salt and pepper hair, olive complexion, the type of man who looked comfortable in his own skin whether he was in a boardroom or in the bedroom.
Peter on the other hand, was a little nervous, he always got nervous whenever he was about to have sex with a random stranger. He tried not to think of how sad of a situation it was. Almost 30 years old and he still hadn’t settled down with anybody. This was nothing like he’d dreamed where he’d be by this age. But he was horny and desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Can I take your coat?” Peter offered extending his arm.
“Sure,” the man said taking it off and handing it to them.
“Thirsty?” Peter said putting it on the coat rack and locking the door so there wouldn’t be any surprise visits from his roommate. “Water …. um …. I think we just have that and koolaid.”
“We?” the man said raising his eyebrow.
“Oh, no. It’s just my roommate. He’s straight or …. I don’t know what he is to be honest. I don’t really care.”
“No, not thirsty. Not for water anyway,” he said with a sexy smirk on his face. He smelled good, Peter thought clean and sophisticated. He blushed at the comment.
“You’re bad,” Peter mumbled. “Music?”
He went over to the stereo and started looking through his CDs. He was nervous and he knew he was fidgety. Just breathe, he told himself. His hands shuffled through the CDs and not finding anything, he thought he’d scroll through his iPod for something, that’s when he felt the warm presence of the man behind him slowly but confidently.
“Just relax,” he heard the man say as he put his hands around his waist. “We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.”
With the pressure off, it felt good but with that intoxicating scent of the cologne and the thick hard on pressed against his cheeks, Peter wasn’t so sure he wanted to just talk. The man’s hands slid around to Peter’s abs, then rubbed his strong shoulders and triceps.
He was a bit taller than Peter and he could feel the course scruff of his unshaven jaw line against his neck.
“Would you like that ….? to just …. talk? Hmmm…” his voice rumbled as he gave him a little soft kiss between his shoulder and his neck that drove Peter wild, he couldn’t help himself his neck arched back.
The kisses became more passionate and intense, Tony pulled Peter closer to him, his lips scooping and tongue tasting his shoulder as if he were a tasty barbecue rib.
“Mmm,” he said, “Damn you taste good.”
He turned Peter around and Peter looked into his eyes for the first time, light brown eyes, with long dark eyelashes. God, he really was good looking and powerful and loving.
Peter felt his strong hands go under his shirt, his thumbs feeling the ridges between his 6-pack, trouncing his hardened nipples. He lifted the shirt up more and kisses his stomach, one ab at a time.
His moist lower lips scooped around them working their way up until they reached Peter’s nipples. The sensation was incredible. Peter fell back landing on the rough carpet couch but Tony kept going, climbing on top of Peter shoving his knee between his legs to open them as if he owned him, as if he could do and would do whatever he wanted to that night.
He yanked Peter’s soft cotton shirt off to reveal what great shape he was in. Peter had been working out for years and even though it’d been a few weeks since he’d had the time or the money to hit the gym, his body still bore the results of endless workouts in the past.
Tony looked at his body in awe, “Like I said, ‘Damn.’”
Peter smiled, his short hair falling across his forehead and obscuring his vision for a second. It felt good to be complimented to be with someone who made him feel good, like more than just a hole to be fucked but like a human being to be desired and tasted and treated.
And then came Tony’s tongue, his long warm and talented tongue that circled around and flicked and teased and bit and blew at every part of his nipples. It’d been so long since Peter had been with someone so experienced and talented, he gripped the side of couch for support and control.
He moaned deeply, passionately uncontrollably. It was like this man knew his every G-spot and was hitting it exactly the way he dreamed it would feel and could feel.
“Oooh,” Peter moaned. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
A sexy smirk spread across Tony’s face, “That’s what I like to hear.”
The moan encouraged Tony to suck Peter’s nipples, deeper harder, to kiss Peter’s thick moist pink lips more passionately.
Peter kissed him back, he was dripping, pre-cumming like crazy and they weren’t even naked.
“Mmm,” Peter said, loving the look of this mature man on top of him. He’d never been with someone that much more mature than him but if this was what it was like, he never knew what he was missing all this time.
Peter’s hands came up under Tony’s shirt, feeling his buzzed hairy chest. His body was firm and solid as if he’d lifted weights most of his life, the body of a 30 year old really. Peter was fucking hot and horny as fuck, he wanted, needed to feel Tony inside him but as he was about to tell him that, Tony moved his neck down and seethed with pain.
“Ow,” he said, trying to hide the sharpness of the pain.
Peter sat up concerned, “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m fine, I just ….” but Tony tried to move his neck again and it seemed a sharp pain ran through him again. “Ow!”
Peter’s hands intuitively rubbed Tony’s neck, gripping and releasing, sliding over his skin, and soothing.
“Oh, yeah right there,” Tony said stretching his neck back and forth.
Peter went behind him, straddling Tony between his legs as he used his hands and elbows to rub out the kink in his neck.
“Jesus, that feels good,” Tony said. “Fuck man, you’re good at this …. really good at this.”
“Thanks,” Peter said, “I used to do it for my ex all the time.”
“I can see why. You ought to do this for a living.”
“Oh,” Peter smiled, “Thanks but I … I have a different career path.”
“What? What do you do?” Tony asked.
Peter got nervous … “Oh, I … sell insurance.” Peter was glad Tony couldn’t see the guilty twist of his face.
“Oh, really? We should exchange cards sometimes. I help run a casino in town. We’re always in need of good insurance.”
Peter felt bad about lying to him but he didn’t think it was a good idea to let him know what he really did.
“Yeah, we should sometime. Tell you what. Why don’t we go into the bedroom and you can lie down and I can give you a real good deep tissue massage?” Peter suggested.
That sexy smirk spread across Tony’s lips again, “I like that idea, kid, let’s do that.”
Peter lit a couple of candles he had around the bedroom. “Just lay on the bed and relax.” From the dresser, he eyed Tony climbing onto the bed and making himself comfortable in the dark sheets. The muscles in his shoulders rippled, unhindered without a shirt. The front of his pants tented up as much as the denim would allow. The size of it caught Peter’s breath in his throat. He stopped staring to move to the bathroom.
“Are you going to join me?” Tony teased, his thick voice growing deeper with lust.
“Bad boy. Let me get that kink out of your neck or you’re not going to be able to do anything.” Peter said from inside his bathroom as he searched every cupboard and medicine cabinet for some lotion or something.
“I really appreciate this,” Tony said his gravelly voice echoing from the room.
“My pleasure,” Peter said, his eyes searching and finding a bottle of baby oil. His bathroom was a little cluttered and he hoped Tony hadn’t noticed. He had left a pair of boxers laying beside the shower, and another was crammed behind the door. He made a note to really clean up before he had any over again. The bathroom did smell clean, though, because he had made a point to light these bathroom candles before Tony got there. No reason to let his sexy guest think he kept the place smelling a mess. Now that they had served their purpose, he blew the two candles on the sink out, emitting delicious vanilla fumes into the air.
He didn’t keep his room very decorated. There was his bed and beat up night stand in the right corner. He had a mismatched dresser along the left wall that had a large mirror attached. That was all the furniture, it was all hand-me-downs that he had picked up from various garage sales. Thank fully, he thought, he had left no dirty clothes on his bedroom floor, unlike the bathroom. He’d be mortified if this sophisticated man saw his dirty trouser just laying around, like he was waiting for his mommy to pick them up for him.
He came back from the bathroom, still bare chested and looked at Tony’s stout and built body, lying face down. God he looked good. His body was hairy, but not his back, thank God. Peter just couldn’t handle that. He climbed behind him and straddled over Tony’s thighs, his knees cushioned by the mattress. As he poured the baby oil onto his hands he started massaging himself into Tony’s ass, getting even more aroused than before. It felt good to be behind this rock of a man.
“That smells good, what is that?” Tony asked, his face turned to the left and just barely visible in the folds of the covers.
“Oh, just baby oil.” Peter answered.
“Or maybe it’s you,” Tony said turning his head to look, “Ouch.”
“Hey now, lay still. You’re going to make your neck worse,” Peter instructed, rubbing his hands together with more friction.
“Yes, sir,” Tony joked, resting his head back down on the mattress, smiling slyly.
Peter laid his hands on the center of Tony’s back. With his hands there he had the leverage to pull himself back and forth across Tony’s backside for his own pleasure. But he was determined to focus just on Tony for now.
With every movement Peter made, Tony moaned. “Oooh,” he’d croon. “Oh, yeah that’s it right there.”
Peter pressed his hand down, causing more pressure, and walked them down to the small of his back. Then he’d let them slide from the center of Tony’s back all the way up to his shoulders and neck and then back down. With powerful fingers he kneaded every knot and sore spot. Where Tony moaned the loudest is where he focused the most effort. Right below his shoulder blades was where Tony held most of his stress, Pete figured. He gave them special attention, eliciting more excitement from Tony.
“Mmm … that’s how you do it,” he grumbled.
Peter smiled, he liked pleasing him. He loved the idea of a big strong man under his hands and giving him pleasure.
He pressed again this time putting his body pressure in it, his body just centimeters from touching Tony’s. He could feel the body heat from Tony and his natural scent mixed with his cologne, it was intoxicating.
His hand slid on the side of Tony’s muscular body and up his shoulder sliding together from his shoulders to the ends of his fingers. Peter used his whole body as a massaging tool; the body contact as his skin brushed against Tony’s felt amazing.
It was making his cock harder and fuller. He rubbed the lower end of his hand in Tony’s chest and Tony moaned with pleasure and pain and the sound reverberated the whole room, and reverberated Peter as well.
“Fuck man, you really do know what you’re doing.” Tony said, turning himself over, “You know, a man could get used to this,” Tony rumbled, giving him a possessive look. “How about you do the other side?”
His beautiful light brown eyes looked into Peter’s blue-grey ones. He looked amazing to Peter, such a man. So handsome. He must have been a real looker when he was his age. But it almost didn’t matter, the years had been kind to him. He exhaled as Peter’s hands rested on his chest his thumbs kneading and meeting in the center, Tony’s head arched back as if the movement gave him great pleasure.
Peter could tell Tony was hard, damn hard as his cock, which Peter feared was massive was trying to burst its way out of his pants. Peter rested his ass on Tony backing his crack up against Tony’s hardened cock, teasing it, rocking and rubbing against it as he massaged his neck, his face brushing against Tony’s.
“Oh, God,” Tony said. “Man, I want to fuck you.”
Peter just gave him a sexy coy smile. He felt like such a slut but it felt good to be in control like that, to tease to make a man want you more. He felt alive with Tony, a slutty side of him that he’d never really gotten to show anyone including himself before.
Peter backed his ass up against Tony’s protruding cock again but this time squeezed his cheeks around it tight.
“Oh, God fuck.” Tony said, wrestling his belt and unzipping his fly, “That’s it, you’re fucking with the wrong dude.”
He yanked Tony’s pants down with one hand, bearing his ass and sat up.
“Naughty boy, you’re not wearing any drawers.”
“I always like to be ready,” Peter smirked, he couldn’t believe himself. When did he turn into such a slut? But he liked it, he felt powerful and sexy and alive.
Tony shook his head and smiled. “You really like to turn a guy on, don’t you?”
“Only the right guys.” Peter said.
“Sit on it,” Tony instructed.
“What?” Peter teased.
“Sit on my fucking cock before I make you sit on it.” The force of his words, almost barking, turned Peter on like no one else. He bit his lips and did exactly what he was told squatting just enough to sit on the roof of Tony’s mushroom head. His cock was fully erect, like the pillar of a coliseum, tall and thick. It was humongous and dripping and Tony knew he should get protection but it’d been so long and he really needed a strong cock inside him so he just let it slide inside him practically bursting at the seams. Tony practically ripped his way inside but daaaaaaamn, it felt so good.
Tony’s legs were spread out as Peter rested on his balls. “Oh, fuck.” he said.
And that’s when Tony began to rock and buck nice and slow at first, his cock slipping and sliding inside Peter up and down.
“Mmmm,” Peter said, rocking his hips back and forth to the rhythm, coordinating it, matching it perfectly with Tony’s movements. He lifted his body up and down sliding up and down the pole, squeezing his cheeks and releasing as he did so.
“Oh fuck!” Tony said, his movements became even more intense and the pleasure and pain was even more sharp but exhilarating. Now Tony wanted to change positions. He pulled Peter off his cock and tossed him to the side of the bed. Tony got off the bed too and came up behind Peter, pinning him down to the mattress with his thighs. Tony took his time there, enjoying the view of the smaller man beneath him. He bent Peter over at the waist and held him down with a meaty forearm. He grabbed Peter’s hip with the other hand and pulled his ass back until it lined up just right with his dick. He pulled Peter’s left cheek away and slid the head of his cock right up to his hole. Peter’s breathing was short and sporadic. He was pre-cumming all over the sheets, thrilled to be handled so intensely. Tony fed off his energy and plunged his cock into Peter’s ass. He made it last longer by pulling out and shoving himself back in again and again until Peter was panting with exhilaration, his natural juices moisturizing and lubricating his movements. Tony loved this position, standing up behind Peter in doggy style, grabbing hold of his hips and fucking his him hard and raw.
Tony’s cock felt so thick and long inside him, he grabbed Peter by the back of his head fucking him more intensely the sweat dripping off his body.
“You really know how to tease a guy, don’t you? Don’t you? Huh?” he said gritting his teeth and fucking him faster, harder as if it were a punishment for making him wait.
Peter was going to cum any second now but Tony turned him over on his back, grabbing him by his thighs and thrusting even harder, even faster than before, Peter’s eyes rolled back behind in his head as he the uncontrollable jerking movements of him coming, shooting in the air came out.
Tony smiled pulling out and jerking himself off, shooting his cream all over Peter’s chest and belly. The heaviness and and warmth of his cum felt like a reward for good and hard work and Peter was exhausted. Tony lay next to him and exhaled as if he were lying down after a long day’s work.
“Aaaah,” he said, catching his breath. Both of them looked at each other and laughed.
“That was …. that was ….” Peter tried to put into words, the sensation.
“Fucking hot,” Tony answered for him.
Peter nodded, “Yeah. Definitely.”
“That massage man … seriously … wow. Mind if I use this?” Tony said, getting up and moving around the end of the bed and heading toward the bathroom. He picked a towel off the shelf.
“Sure, of course,” Peter answered.
Tony wiped Peter off first then himself. Such a gentleman. He sighed.
“I hate to head out so quickly,” Tony said, starting to get dressed, making Peter feel a little insecure and cheap.
“No, it’s cool.” Peter said pretending it didn’t bother him. He didn’t like the way Tony’s voice sounded removed and uninterested. It was exactly the opposite as he sounded when he first came over.
“It’s just I gotta get back to the house before my … well, I just gotta get back but …” he trailed off and started fishing through his wallet, thumbing through wads of twenties and hundreds. He took a small handful and placed it on Peter’s nightstand, “That massage man, really …”
Peter sat up, shocked by the thought of it, “What are you doing?”
“Just thanking you.” Tony said, putting on his shirt, looking toward the door.
“You don’t have to do that, I’m not-” This made him feel like he’d sold himself.
“Look, if I didn’t give it to you, I’d have to give it to that damn masseuse at the casino and she can’t do shit half as good as you. You… you were something special.” His look made it clear the Peter wasn’t going to refuse him. It was an odd gesture that made Peter feel like he owed Tony something in return, even though he had given the massage in the first place.
Peter didn’t know whether to feel like a cheap whore or grateful for the compliment.
Either way, Tony was already half way dressed and out of the bedroom door.
“I can’t accept this,” Peter decided grabbing the money as he stood naked before Tony, grabbing his coat from the coat rack.
Tony looked him up and down, and smacked his lips, totally ignoring his concerns. “You’re so sexy. See you again?”
He started to turn the door knob.
“No, seriously, I appreciate it but I can’t,” Peter said, trying to thrust the wad out toward Tony.
Tony sidestepped his movement as said a little more forcefully, “If you don’t want it you can just give it away. Surely you can think of someone that can use it,” Tony answered, taking one last look around the lightly furnished apartment, and stepping out, “See ya, kid.”
And with that, he closed the door.
Peter stood there confused, looking at the wad of cash, it was over $250 dollars. Tony’s lingering words, “Surely you can think of someone that can use it,” stayed with him throughout the whole night.
He couldn’t wash away the comment in the shower as he washed up, he couldn’t shake it while he changed his sheets or when he stared up at the ceiling trying to go to sleep.
The next day Peter showed up to his classroom a hero. He was carrying boxes and boxes of graham crackers for the kids. He had even splurged and gotten himself new, colorful chalk, He figured that it would be fun to let the kids draw on the chalkboard, and all they had right now was brittle white pieces. By the end of the day, the kids were thrilled to have had several crackers a piece and to play with the new chalk. Peter reveled in their thrilled faces, trying to assure himself that he’d only spent a little bit of the money he got. The rest of it would have to go towards his more pressing matters.
“Mr. Vanderbilt!” Johnny called out from his little table. His high pitched voice startled Peter out of his daydream.
“Yes, Johnny. What is it?” Peter asked with a gentle smile, looking over his desk and seeing Johnny among the other kids coloring at their desks. He really was a smart and cute kid, even if he did like to get into a little bit too much trouble.
“Is my daddy here yet?” he asked twisting himself back and forth in the chair. His blue eyes got big and his face broke into a smile that was absolutely adorable.
Peter looked at his watch, “Why would your …?” he sat up straighter in his chair, “Shoot it’s almost 2:15.”
“Ooooh! Mr. Vanderbilt said the ‘S’ word again!” Johnny announced loudly to the whole class.
All the kids stopped what they were doing to say, “Ooooooooh!” They all gave him their wide-eyed looks of astonishment, waiting for another apology.
Peter had to laugh as he shook his head, “All right, all right. Settle down now kids. All of your parents are going to be here soon. You better get to working faster on your drawings, or they aren’t going to be ready for the Artist Board.” Peter had converted one wall of his classroom into an “artist board” where the kids could hang the drawings and water colorings that they were really proud of. It gave them something to work towards and really let them have pride in themselves.
“The ‘S’ word?” a deep voice asked from behind Peter. Peter whipped around to the classroom door and his jaw dropped. There was a police officer walking in slowly, “In front of all the children?” His jaw was set harshly and his eyes roamed over the culprit.
Peter swallowed hard, not only because he was worried, had he broken some kind of law or something? But also because he’d always had a thing for men in uniform, especially police officers and this one in particular with his stark ginger hair, chiseled features and obvious well-built body practically busting out of the uniform was no exception. His shirt pulled taut against his chest and shoulder muscles, giving them sculpted definition. At first, Peter wondered if he might be one of those stripper singing telegram cops, but no, he was the real deal.
“Wow!” the kids said rushing over to him. “Are you a real police officer?” they asked in unison as he crouched down to their level. He let them touch his badge and pester him with more questions.
Peter didn’t know what to say.
“Of course he is!” Johnny said running up to him, “He’s my daddy.” He beamed a proud smile up at the officer.
The officer gave him a kiss on the forehead, “What’s going on, little you?”
“I’m not so little,” Johnny pouted. His dad shook the top of Johnny’s hair.
“I keep forgetting,” he said in his rich confident voice, “You’re practically full-grown.”
“I am full grown!” Johnny announced.
A smile of pride spread across his dad’s face. A wide, toothy, gorgeous smile that made Peter’s heart skip a beat.
Wow! Peter thought to himself, he began to get nervous butterflies in his stomach which shocked him because he hadn’t experienced that in so long, for as long as he could remember. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself as he walked up to the gentleman and extended his hand.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson, I presume?” Peter said, trying to hide his crush and act as butch as he could.
“Detective Johnson, actually,” the cop said, squeezing his hand tight, “But you can call me Chip.” Chip had a devious twinkle in his eye and he closed the gap between himself and Peter, more than was really necessary.
“Chip?” Peter said, cute name. He liked it.
Chip smiled and gave him a wink, “Virginia told me about you.”
“She did?” Peter said, confused, trying to place which Virginia it was. “Hope it was good stuff. “Oh…” his conversation from yesterday came back to him, “you’re the guy that –” Peter said.
Chip nodded, “Yeah, the one she told you about yeah. She said you didn’t sound that interested in meeting me so I figured I had to come see who this guy was that was too busy to meet me.” His words were strict but his tone was light and sweet. He looked right into Peter’s eyes, causing Peter to forget how to respond.
Peter blushed. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just … we can talk about it some other time. Maybe when the kids are not around.”
“Yeah, some other time like … for coffee?” he said and Peter realized they were still shaking hands.
Peter pulled away, shuffling self consciously. “Oh … I mean, that’d be nice except that I’m -”
“Busy, I know … but there’s a coffee shop literally across the street from the school so …”
“After work sometime, yes, yeh. Um, just not today, though, because you see….” Peter’s explanation trailed off because he couldn’t think of one. He had no idea why he was becoming so shy.
“Sure, after work some time,” Chip had a sexy smirk on his face as he tried not to look Peter up and down too long in front of the children. Peter could tell he was interested, very interested and the way he undressed him with his eyes, even if it was only for a moment while they were under the scrutiny of the kids, it turned him on big time. Chip broke contact first, letting Peter simmer there with his thoughts. “Well, big boy, let’s go,” he said, scooping Johnny up under one arm and carrying him like a notebook.
Johnny laughed all the way to the door.
Peter couldn’t help but watch what a great ass Chip had. Nothing was sexier to Peter than a confident man, especially a confident single gay dad. It was just a plus that he had that kind of chiseled body.
“Oh,” Chip said, turning around and whipping out his phone, “Let me get your phone number. You know, just in case we have to go over things about Johnny.”
Peter liked his slick style, “Yeah, about Johnny,” he smiled.
“Now, you’re going to call me sometime when you’re free right?” Chip said that part low and close enough so that just Peter could hear. The secrecy made Pete blush again.
“Sure, yeah …” Peter said. It’d been awhile since a hot guy had hit on him. He almost forgot how to act.
Wow! Two hot guys in one day. When it rains it pours. But what happened that night was still ringing on Peter’s mind, as he fished in his pocket and waded through the wad of cash Tony had given him. It felt like guilt money, maybe if he didn’t think about the way the money came, it wouldn’t be so bad. It was just that the more he tried to justify it in his head, the more guilty he felt. He hadn’t solicited the money, he knew, but the way Tony made him take it made him feel used.
Peter was walking around his classroom, mulling the situations over, and cleaning up so that he could avoid traffic getting home. A knock came at the door as Peter was picking up the blocks that were spread all over the floor. He stood up straight just in time to see the principal letting himself into Peter’s classroom. It looked a lot emptier now than it did when the kids were clambering around. Peter had already turned the dim lights off, so just pale sunlight was shining in through the windows. Peter didn’t like being this close to Principal Close without anyone else around. He felt like he needed to explain his presence here, even though it was his classroom and the principal was the one out of place.
“Mr. Vanderbilt,” Principal Close said, stepping inside. Peter tried not to sigh too audibly in front of his boss. The principal looked around at the kids’ art works hanging on the wall. He surveyed the short circular tables and chairs that were old and marked up with a frown.
“Principal Close,” he responded, going back to cleaning up.
“So …. I’m glad to find you here,” the principal said, clearly uncomfortable in his position. It may have been the very first time Peter had seen the older gentleman not at ease.
“Oh?” Peter answered, wondering what he would be yelling and screaming or criticizing him about this time. He didn’t want to stop cleaning, but Mr. Close’s tone had his rapt attention.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. You know we talked about the budget cuts in the staff meeting.”
“I think I recall that, yes,” Peter said with just an ounce of sarcasm, becoming tense just remembering that conversation. Luckily the other man was too preoccupied with his bad news to notice.
“Well, I don’t know how to put this other than to just say it … things are a little more extreme than we were expecting. The budget cuts are steeper. I’m afraid, Peter that -”
Peter didn’t allow the sentence to finish before he cut him off. “Steeper? How could they be steeper? We already can’t afford decent chairs for these kids.” Peter’s voice rose in exasperation.
Principal Close’s eyes widened at the interruption. He wasn’t used to being cut off, especially not in his school. Starting again slowly he said, “If we don’t find another $10,000 in savings, we’re going to have to shut your entire department down.” His voice came out harsher than it would have earlier.
“What?” Peter said. “You can’t shut down kindergarten, especially not the art initiative. It’s all these kids have to look forward to. Their lives at home are bleak – they want to come to school to learn and feel proud of themselves. For most of these kids … at least, many of their parents are working hard as it is, they’ll have to cut their hours or leave the kids at home alone. They’re too small for that but their parents can’t afford babysitters!”
“I realize it’s … it’s a tough call but -” he went back to shuffling uncomfortably. “You know, we appreciate you coming here and spearheading this department. The art initiative has been a special program and the kids really seem to love it. It’s just that the money is tight, and under new legislation our county doesn’t actually require a kindergarten program.”
“But if you were to find these savings, you could keep it open? Would you allocate the money to the program?”
“Well, for awhile we most certainly would, but that’s impossible. We’ve looked everywhere and there is absolutely no where else to cut.”
“Cut my pay, in half.” Peter found himself blurting out.
“Your pay?” The principal’s eyes widened again, this time in astonishment. He wasn’t used to teacher’s sacrificing themselves, as they already made so little
“Yes, cut it in half, apply it to this department. I’ll … I’ll find a way to make ends meet but you can’t cut this department. You just can’t.” Peter thought about the sweet kids and what they’d lose if his department was absolved.
The principal seemed to almost have a smirk on his face as if he was getting away with something. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. I appreciate, the entire staff appreciates your…. sacrifice.” With that, he turned on his heels and headed towards the door.
Peter couldn’t wait for him to leave. He looked around the room angrily, looking for something to take his frustration out on. He heard the door close with a click, and he waited until he heard the principal’s clickety-click sound of his heals turn the corner around the next hallway. With him well out of earshot, Peter kicked a chair out of his way. He wanted to pummel something, for once to be so angry as to destroy something else. But just the one kick caused the plastic of the chair to crack down the middle. Just what he needed, one less chair.
He was furious. This system was so messed up. They could find the money to keep a football department alive and well, but there was nothing left to buy chairs, snacks, or other supplies. He had come here to help people, but it seemed like they were destroying this place all by themselves. And when the anger finally subsided, the panic set it. Sure, he’d kept the kindergarten class open for now but what about later? How far would his sacrifice stretch? And how in the hell would he pay his bills now?
Peter drove home in his beat up Camry in a daze. The reality of losing half his salary had really settled in. There was no way he was going to make it. He had no family or friends to turn to. Moving in with Anton had been a bust. If only my parents – The Camry swerved sharply into the oncoming lane and a loud honk caused Peter to come out of his daze. He learned a long time ago that his parents weren’t going to be there for him. As soon as they found out he wasn’t the straight son they thought they were going to be so proud of, they started to alienate himself. It didn’t happen all at once. It was slower, holiday by holiday they stopped inviting him over, stopped calling for his birthday, until they wouldn’t even return Peter’s calls. Long before that they had stopped giving Peter any financial assistance. There was only one thing to do now, of course, seeing as he had just six more days until rent was due and his roommate made good on his promise to kick him out. He had to use some of that money that Tony had given him to cover his half of the apartment rent.
Peter pulled his beat up car into the apartment’s assigned space for him. He popped open the door, clambered out with his briefcase and other bag of school supplies, still mulling his dire situation over. He started the long trek up to the third floor, and wished once again, that he made enough money to afford to live in an apartment with an elevator, or just actually afford to live in any apartment of his own at all.
The thought of actually using Tony’s charity, or whatever is was, to make ends meet made Peter feel queasy. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t so bad, Tony had said he would have paid it to his regular masseuse anyway. Peter had gotten to his door and was shuffling his bags so that he could fumble around in his pocket for his keys. Why doesn’t Anton just open the door? He can hear me struggling out here. He finally got the keys out and made his way inside. Setting his things down on the dining room table, he moved to the cabinet to fix himself a glass of water. When he turned on the tap a small bug – maybe a roach – scurried away from the water’s grasp. Peter sighed at the development and wondered when they had started getting roaches.
He tapped his fingers on his dining room table, back to thinking about money, racking his brain with what to do. He’d already been through the classifieds a million times. Every job he was qualified that would still allow him time to teach, was taken already and all the rest were scammy call-center shit.
He had to do something. He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe Tony would pay him to do another massage? Or maybe …
The idea hit Peter in the head like a two by four. He planted his feet on the floor and found his laptop. He logged in to the gay dating site. With his new idea he needed to create a new profile, to describe himself a little different, a couple inches shorter, instead of brown hair, he said dark hair, instead of grey eyes, he said blue-grey anything he could think of to hide his identity, and then he came up with a new screen name: “HotEroticMassageTherapist.” Then he started typing his ad:
Subject: Need some release?
Body: Hot massage therapist will relieve you of your stress. Specializes in 30 minute deep, deep tissue massages and passionate rub downs, happy endings included but no sex, strictly massage.
He felt better about it making it clear that he wasn’t looking for sex. That actually was illegal and he didn’t want to run that chance. He wasn’t sure exactly what to charge but based on what Tony had given him, he figured that was a good starting point.
His fingers nervously twitched over the keypad and he fretted over whether or not he should upload the profile. He kept no picture of himself there, deciding to keep it as discreet as possible, incase he did decide to go through with it. There’s no way someone can actually trace it back to me, is there? He was worried that if someone did recognize him, they would out him at school for having a naughty night job, or just for being gay. He didn’t think that the principal, or even most of the other teachers, would be comfortable with him being so open about it. Judging by his parents reaction, he would face the real threat of being fired.
But he was also excited at the possibility. Tony had praised him for being so good, maybe he was good enough to turn it into a real occupation. He needed money, that was for sure. He swallowed a lump around his throat. This was foolish, this was stupid. Why would he put his career, his reputation at stake? What if his school was to find out? What if the parents did? And speaking of parents, what if his parents found out? What would they think of him then? Not that it should matter. They did cut me off. The thought of it still gave him the chills.
He leaned back into the couch and readjusted his laptop. It’s not like he could go to his own parents, anyway. Ever since they’d found out he was gay, they’d done whatever they could to disown him. No, he had to earn this money himself. It was his problem that he created and he was doing it to help the kids. That’s what he kept telling himself. What good would he do them if he was out on the street? Besides, he’d only do it long enough to get himself out of this financial mess and maybe even move out on his own without having to deal with a fucking roommate.
With that in mind, he took a deep breath and clicked upload.
This was it. Seconds ticked by while he sat there staring at the screen. No sirens sounded, no one burst through the door looking to immediately arrest him. He looked around the apartment, but there was no one to witness his act. He sat by the computer for another good 30 minutes staring at the screen. Part of him wanted to delete the profile because after five minutes no one was responding. Putting himself out there like that caused him to feel vulnerable, like an exposed nerve, and the lack of response felt like stark rejection. Another part of him felt like deleting it because of the anxiety that was eating him alive. Hunched over his laptop like he was was causing his back and neck to cramp up. He needed to lay down for a minute and let the anxiety slip away.
He remembered that his roommate was working an extra shift, so he had a good four hours or so before Anton came back. He decided to take advantage of the peace and quiet by lying down in his bed and taking a nap.
It was the ringing noise that did it. The constant beeping that he thought he was just imagining but finally he cracked his eyes open and stumbled up out of bed in his boxers and afternoon boner half dangling out of his fly as he pounded his way out of his bedroom, through the kitchen to the source of the sound.
He let out a loud yawn, God he needed that nap, he rubbed his eyes, his blurry vision slowly coming into focus as he looked at his laptop.
Why was his laptop ringing? Was it out of battery already? No, he’d plugged it in. Maybe it was …
Then his heart pounded. He looked at the screen and sat down immediately. He had 23 messages on his massage therapist profile. He took a deep breath. No reason to get excited, most of them were probably just people kicking the tires.
He opened the first one.
-Hey HotEroticMassageTherapist, I’ve got a stiff one. Stiff back, I mean ? Could use some relaxing. How much do you charge?
Peter took a deep breath, a small smile curved on his lips as he typed in $200 for 30 minutes. This was a bad idea and at least he could scare off the riff-raff by giving them a ridiculously high price.
He got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He’d look at the rest of the responses later but then the ringing started again.
He sat back down, there was a response. He clicked on it.
-OK, no prob. Where do you live?
Peter’s jaw dropped. He must have stared at the screen for a good five minutes before he responded. He typed in his address.
– Good, I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Do I need to bring anything?
– Just yourself, Peter replied, and a hard on, he teased.
Shit. He had to get the place cleaned and ready and the only oil he had to use was that same baby oil that he’d used on Tony from the other night.
That’s when he heard it, the familiar sound of the keys jangling and his roommate stepped in the door.
Peter dashed over to the door. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do but he knew he had to get rid of Anton and fast.
“Hey!” Peter said, maybe a little too enthusiastically.
Anton just looked him up and down in his bare chest and whitey tighties with his bonder and smirked.
“You alright?” Anton said.
Peter gasped, wanting to cover himself up. “Uh … yeah, I was just ….”
“I bet you were …” Anton said dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, dismissing his explanation.
“Hey so …” Peter started to say, following him in the kitchen, “you’ve got to go.”
“What?” Anton said scrunching his eyebrows together, “Why?”
“Uh ….” Peter looked in the kitchen as if searching for inspiration when he saw the cockroach scurrying across the counter. He hated those things so fucking mcuh. They were so … then it hit him. They gave him the perfect excuse. “The exterminators are on their way. They’ll be here in like three minutes.”
“The exterminators? I didn’t know we had an appointment with-”
“Well, we do and you have to go. That stuff is deadly.”
“Well, how long is it going to take? My show’s going to start in like 45 minutes.” Anton was so concerned about Game of Thrones that he had forgotten to ask how Peter could afford an exterminator.
“Well, you’ll have to watch it somewhere else, Anton. Do you want to end up dead?” Peter responded not knowing what else to say and hoping the desperation on his face to get rid of him wasn’t so transparent.
Anton looked at him, reaching for the dry bowl of stale popcorn on the counter and stuffed a bunch of it in his mouth. that’s disgusting, Peter thought. That was probably exactly what attracted the bugs in there first place. Anton looked Peter over as if studying him, reading him, seeing through him. A roach scurried out of the bowl.
It was making Peter nervous and as he glanced over to the clock ticking on the wall, it was taking way too long as well.
There was silence, just the ticking of the clock and the crunching of the stale popcorn in Anton’s crooked tooth mouth.
“I don’t believe you,” Anton said, existing the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Peter said following him out as he grabbed his keys.
“I can’t believe you would tell me this at the very last minute. 45 minutes before my show. When are you leaving?”
Peter swallowed with relief. He thought Anton had meant something else.
“Oh, soon. Right after you. I just need to grab a few things.”
“Where are you going to go?” Anton asked.
“Just around. Take a walk or something.”
“Well, I’m going to the casino to watch it. One of my co-workers will let me sneak into the admin office for an hour or so,” he said turning the door knob.
“Well, honestly, you might not want to come back for a good … I don’t know 3-4 hours. You know how toxic that stuff can be.”
Anton sighed, “Yeah. Next time, let me know. I don’t like driving all this way just to have to drive all the way back. We need every penny we can get. Speaking of which, how’s the rent money coming along? You get that raise you were talking about?”
Peter swallowed hard, “Uh …. yeah, it’s great. I’ll definitely have the money to you on time.”
“Good. See ya,” he said slamming the door behind him.
Peter took a deep breath, he had maybe 7 minutes to take a shower, clean up and get ready for his first client.
Just in case, he locked and chained the door behind him.
Peter had never taken so quick a shower. He must have lathered himself a good seven times though. He wanted to make sure he smelled great and he was wrapped in nothing but his towel as he was combing his hair when there was a knock at the door.
“Well, here goes nothing,” he said under his breath. He tightened the towel around his waist and slowly padded to the door. He wanted to build the client’s suspense, but he was also trying to gather his nerve. He decided that the best thing to do was to project confidence as if he’d done this before a million times.Just God, don’t let anybody recognize me, he prayed quickly.
“Hello,” he heard himself say, a deeper richer tone as if he was a sex machine, while he unchained the lock and swung the door open.
In front of him was a tall strapping football player looking stud with blond hair that stepped in and looked around as if he was casing the place. The stud had thick shoulders that his blonde hair rested on. It was swept back from his forehead. He had deep green eyes that were alive and alert.
He looked a little familiar but Peter couldn’t pinpoint exactly where so he thought he must be imagining things.
“Hey, what’s up? So, how do we do this?” he asked very matter of fact.
“Can I take your jacket?” Peter asked, trying to prolong the moment. The guy handed it to him and kept looking around the place as if he was being given a grand tour. “Cool place you’ve got, man. You living with somebody? You do a lot of people here?” he asked. One too many questions for Peter’s tastes.
“Actually, I just began my … practice here recently.”
“Oh … okay, cool so …. when do we get started?” he asked. He seemed just a little bit nervous, like maybe this was his first time doing something like this. His nerves put Peter more at ease. He was a good looking man, that was for sure. At least 6’3, well-built with green eyes that maybe projected more confidence than he really had. Peter noticed the tip of a tattoo peeking up over the collar of his shirt. It looked like some kind of symbol, like it was tribal or military.
“Right this way, come on into my … office,” Peter half joked leading him in the bedroom. The stud chomped on his gum and Peter knew that was going to drive him crazy so he held out his hand, “Want me to take that gum for you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said looking around the room and plopping the chewed piece in his hand. “Thanks.”
Peter tossed it in the bathroom waste paper basket and washed and dried his hands.
While still in the bathroom he said, “So, lie on the bed face down and I’ll-” but Peter stopped mid-sentence as he stepped back into the bedroom. Not only was the stud lying on his bed already completely naked, but he had a huge reaction, his cock sticking straight up in the air. It was a dark pink that stood in sharp contrast to his pale skin.
Peter swallowed hard as he made his way around the bed, pulling out the baby oil from his nightstand. He hadn’t had time to put it up since Tony’s visit. “So, do you like more of a Swedish relaxing massage or a deep tissue massage?” he asked. He doubted that this guy neither knew the difference nor would he care.
“Whatever dude, I’m just fucking horny.” He licked and bit his lips looking at Peter as if he were a piece of meat that he wanted to chow into.
Peter took a deep audible breath and got into character, nervous as he was, he tried to pretend that he wasn’t and to project confidence.
“Mmmm ….” he said as he climbed on the bed and crawled over to him like a butch cat. He allowed his hands to start at his crotch and flow from his his groin up his strong ripped abs and built chest resting on his nipples.
“Now, just so we’re on the same page. You know this is only a massage right? We don’t go any further than that.”
“Yeah, man, whatever you say, baby,” the stud said biting his lip again in anticipation.
Peter had to admit, the guy was turning him on but he wasn’t going to go there. He wasn’t going to go any further than a massage. That he’d already promised himself. He was only going to sell his therapist talents, not his body. He gave the stud a sexy smile, “So … what’s your name?”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
Peter was a little taken back by the response. “I guess not, it’s just that I just -”
“Just want to know whose name you’ll be calling out later on?” he suggested, blushing with his straightforwardness.
Peter chuckled, “You’re a bad boy.”
“You have no idea …” he said, “Just call me Brad.”
With that he put his massive hands at the top of Brad’s shoulders and let them slide across his chest and abs down to his pelvis. His hands paused there.
“Now, now… no touching …” Peter scolded, even though it sounded like he wanted more.
“Whatever you say, baby,” Brad said, giving him a wink and moving his hands up again.
“And you can call me Spence, or Spencer.” Peter said.
“All right Spence, I like that. Go ahead … I’ll be a good boy. Or at least I’ll try,” he said, closing his eyes and allowing Peter to circle around his nipples, lightly at first then more intensely.
“Oh, fuck ….” Brad said, his lips parting in ecstasy. His response was turning Peter on even more, he loved the feel of power he had with his hands and he then worked their magic from his sides to every ridge of his abs down to his crotch.
That massive cock of his was throbbing up and down as if beckoning him, teasing him to taste it even just a little bit, and although Peter was tempted, very tempted in fact, he resisted. He had a better idea, after all. He wanted to leave his client with blue balls. He wanted to drive this man so insane that he would be wishing for it. So he moved his lips close to his testicles and sniffed audibly.
“Oh, yeah baby,” Brad said. “Do me.”
“Mmmm …” Peter hummed, then he blew on his balls gently. Peter’s lips came so close to his long schlong that his mushroom head almost touched his lips. Tempting, but he wasn’t going to go there. He needed to make this event last a little longer, especially if Peter was going to get paid $200 for it.
Peter gripped Brad’s side and turned him over onto his stomach. Getting up and going to the bathroom quickly, he came back with a hand towel. Peter laid the towel across Brad’s cheeks so that they were completely covered. He planned to tease Brad under the towel before really pleasing him.
Brad was panting from anticipation, he was so excited and Peter had to admit, it was such a turn on. He took the baby oil in his hand, and he poured it out on Brad’s back. Brad arched under the cold oil but settled back down as Peter started rubbing it in. Peter started with the left shoulder, then moved to the right, kneading as he went. Brad moaned in delight. Tension slipped out of his shoulders under Peter’s grip. He did this some more, going all the way down Brad’s back, twisting his fingers and palms different ways to cause different sensations. Brad enjoyed it the most when Pete ran his finger nails across his back. The sensation caused little neck hairs on the back of his neck to stand straight up.
Now it was time to play with his ass. Peter had been sitting on the side of brad, so that their bodies weren’t touching. Now he climbed behind Brad and mounted him. He sat on the top of Brad’s thighs and started massaging right under his rump. Brad moaned even louder and stained the sheets with pre-cum. Sliding his hands under the towel cause Brad to tighten his cheeks. He was gasping in excitement.
Peter suddenly stopped and that caused Brad to look back in confusion. Grinning down at his client he explained, “I like to use a special oil for certain areas.” He reached across Brad and dug in his night stand drawer a little more. He came out with a Lightning Sensations bottle of massage oil. It gave the recipient a cooling and tingling feeling on top of the smooth texture of regular oil. Peter had picked up a few special things with Tony’s money.
Peter poured the oil slowly down Brad’s crack. Brad tried to jump up from the sharp sensation but Peter planted his legs and firmly held him down. “For that,” Peter admonished, I’m going to have to do this.” Peter gave Brad a sharp slap on the ass. His cheek flinched up but from his moan Peter knew he loved it. “Another one,” Peter said as he slapped the other cheek with his open palm. He went back and forth until Brad’s ass had gone from pale to scarlet. The feeling was clearly getting Brad off. Peter massaged the cheeks he had slapped.
Brad was trying to turn over, he wanted the same treatment on his front side, so Peter let him. He relished the power he had over this man. He could tell him to do anything, and he was sure Brad would do it.
Gripping his dick, he let the long string of oil pour and drip all over Brad’s cock and balls. Brad convulsed at the sensation. A smirk spread across Peter’s face. His hand slid from the base of Brad’s balls up the stem of his cock and gripped it, his thumb gliding and sliding around the head.
“Oh, yeah,” Brad said.
Peter gripped his cock tighter then let his hand slide up and down it. God it was long, up and down, up and down, at first slow and firm but then tighter and quicker, so tight, so quick that Brad arched his back.
“Oh, fuck … oh, fuck!!” Brad said. Peter stopped suddenly to keep Brad from cumming too quickly.
“Brad, how do you feel about toys?” Brad’s eyes were glazed over and he could only moan his ascent. Peter leans across him again and pulls binding tape and a butt plug out of the drawer. It’s big and stout, with a wide base that tapers down to this tip. Peter steps off the bed so that he can bind Brad’s hands to the headboard before he can see the plug. Brad lays there while he is tied up, content to be pleased any way Peter choses. When Brad sees the plug his eyes goes wide with alarm. It’s clear he isn’t convinced it’ll fit.
Peter doesn’t let him disagree though. He holds the tip up to Brad’s lips and tells him, “Suck the whole thing. That’s right, lather it up. The more you do the less it’ll hurt.” Brad licks fervently, he’s afraid of getting hurt.
Peter takes it away and moves back down to his ass. He bends Brad’s legs and holds them up in the air. “Now, keep your legs like that,” he instructs. Brad does as he’s told. His cheeks are clenched tightly. Peter has to massage his hole before he’ll loosen up enough to allow the plug to pass. Finally, Peter gets the toy past his sphincter and plunges it in deeper. Brad’s legs and torso twist, threatening to rip the plug out of Peter’s hands. Peter has to tower over Brad and hold him down by his hips to keep him from moving. Brad moans and writhes with pleasure. His eyes have rolled back and he’s begging Peter to thrust harder.
Peter pushes the plug in and out, harder, faster … harder, faster! He takes hold of Brad’s shaft and starts jerking it to the same rhythm until finally….
Brad shot, Peter swore to God, all the way up to the ceiling, landing all over his belly and dripping down Peter’s hand like a melted ice cream cone.
Brad let out a groan so loud it vibrated the entire room but it was so fucking hot. It took awhile for Brad to catch his breath. Peter was turned on by the experience, he had to keep himself from breaking his own rules and doing more than just the massage. He wiped his hand on the towel and watched Brad’s stomach and lungs rise and fall.
“You all right?” Peter asked as he saw Brad slowly ungrip the sheets.
“Yeah, I … yeah … damn.” Brad responded.
Peter smiled. He pulled out the plug and went to clean it off. Just like that, Brad got up, grabbed the towel from Peter and wiped himself. He put his pants on, didn’t even worry about his underwear and put his shirt on too.
“That was great, man,” he said, reaching into his pocket, “Two hundred right?”
“Yeah,” Peter said, still feeling a little funny asking for it.
Brad handed him a wad of cash that Peter thumbed through, it was easily at least $300. “A little extra,” Brad explained patting the door frame on the way out. Peter followed him.
“Thanks, man,” Peter said, putting it in his pocket acting like it was no big deal when he was jumping up and down inside. He could hear the gentle beep of his laptop and knew it was more private messages from potential clients.
“You’re way fucking better than my wife,” Brad said putting his hand on the door knob. The thought kind of turned Peter’s stomach. It’s one thing to do single guys or closeted guys but if they were married … it just seemed so wrong. Why weren’t they just honest with their wives? He decided to imagine that they were honest with their wives and that it was an understanding, that was the only way he’d be able to get through it without feeling bad.
“See ya, man,” Brad said starting to leave. “Hey, you free next Wednesday about this time? I drop my kid off at peewee practice, then I’m free for the rest of the afternoon.”
Peter balked, but Brad had just turned his head so he didn’t notice. “Um … yeah, I think. Let me check,” Peter stuttered. Brad was one of the kid’s dads! Maybe not a kid from his class, but definitely a kid from his school.
“Good, let me know, okay. I had fun.” Brad answered.
Peter waited until he heard him walk down the steps then jumped up and did a little happy dance. “Yes!” he said.
Sometimes Peter’s students said the funniest things. Often times he found himself rolling on the floor laughing so hard, he thought he’d split his sides. But other times they’d say the most profound things. Out of the mouth of babes, after all … Peter watched the kids during play time. Some were building blocks, others were running around in circles playing tag, some were drawing.
He wondered about their futures. Many of them had a lot going against them, growing up in this neighborhood in arguably a sub-par school and he shuddered to think they’d ever have to make a decision like had just made the day before.
Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater good, he thought to himself at least that’s how he justified it. What did this mean that he was accepting money, good money at that for giving nude erotic massages? Did that make him a whore? He thought about Brad again, and prayed to God that he wouldn’t run into him here. No one here needed to know about his secret. He’d do anything to keep it private.
It was true that before the last few nights, Peter couldn’t even remember the last time he was with a guy and it was hot, both of the guys, very hot in fact but afterward, he felt empty inside. It felt transactional. These guys didn’t even know his real name, Brad didn’t even ask or even care for that matter. They didn’t know the first thing about him and didn’t really care. They just wanted to get off.
And although he was left with money, good money at at that, money he could use to not only pay his rent but keep the kindergarten department open as long as possible, when all was done. He was left with nothing but the sound of ticking clock on the wall and the stale scent of sex filling the bedroom.
Sex was great, he loved it but he just wished he had someone to go home to other than some gross nasty roommate who had as much charm as cardboard. Someone who he could talk about his day with, his fears, his hopes, someone who would accept him for him and make him laugh, someone he could build a family with. Sure, teaching kids was great but he wanted kids of his own. He just wanted to be with someone who was comfortable enough in their own skin that they wouldn’t mind holding his hand in public and would know what to say at just the right time.
He sighed. No sense dreaming. Less of a chance of getting hurt that way. Besides, class was almost over and he had a lot of paperwork to do before he went home.
“You look stressed,” a voice said behind him. Peter shot up startled, his heart skipped a beat as he saw Johnny’s father Chip, in front of him.
“Oh, no … I was just thinking …” he answered.
“Daddy!” Johnny said running up to him. His dad kissed him and hugged him and then said, “Why don’t you go play with your friends for a few minutes more.?I’ve got grown up talk to do.”
Johnny sighed, “Well, okay ….” And with that, he ran off. Peter smiled. His father had such control over his son without being demeaning or cruel. It was nice to see.
“You know, you didn’t call me,” he said, turning his attention to Peter.
“Call you? Was I supposed to?” Peter racked his mind. He was pretty good at following through with what he said he was going to do.
“Yeah, you said you’d call me when you were free and we could have coffee.”
Peter smiled, “Oh, I’ve been … busy.”
“Too busy for coffee?” he said winking at him.
“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized.
“Well, don’t worry. You’ll make it up to me one way or another. Tell you what. I’m going to drop Johnny off for his piano lesson in a bit, what do you say if I swing by pick you up afterward?”
“Oh … I ….” Peter had run out of excuses and he didn’t even know why. He guessed maybe he didn’t feel worthy, especially after the night’s activities.
“Good. That’ll give you enough time to finish up your work.” he said authoritatively, not taking no for an answer, “Come on, son. Let’s go.”
Johnny ran over to him and held his daddy’s hand, obediently. Peter liked his confidence and the smooth macho way he walked and that backside of his was mesmerizing. He tried not to be too obvious in front of the kids but it was hard.
Peter was nervous, that he had to admit to himself. He hadn’t been on a date or coffee or whatever this was in so long, he didn’t know how to behave. He would have chugged down his coffee to calm his nerves but it was so steaming hot he would have burned his throat. The cafe that Chip suggested was very nice. It had couches strewn around in groups and single tables that were made for one or two patrons. Peter liked the soft music and dim lights, it gave the place a calming ambiance.
“Splenda or sugar?” Chip asked, standing next to Peter by the dark wooden counter of the condiment bar.
“Oh, two Splendas please,” Peter said. Chip grabbed them and led Peter to a secluded booth. It was meant for two and tucked away in the back of the cafe. They were so far away from the other tables that it was unlikely other patrons would see or recognize them. Maybe Chip needed to keep his preferences a secret, too.
Chip handed the packs to him and Peter ripped them open. Chip sat down and watched Peter’s routine, how he poured in the contents into his cappuccino, stirred it swiftly, tapping the wooden sticks on the side of the cup and setting it down on the napkin. He smiled, watching Peter with squinted and interested eyes.
Peter noticed. “What?”
“You …” Chip said leaning back and still watching just as interested. His fingers absentmindedly stirred his own coffee. He took it plain and black, just like Peter imagined an officer would.
“What about me?” Peter said.
“You’re interesting.” Chip said matter of factly, pushing his cup away and staring intently in Peter’s eyes.
“Interesting like in a good way or interesting as in …” Peter faltered, trying to break Chip’s gaze.
“Interesting, just interesting …” Chip said with a smirk. Then the front door’s bell chimed, letting in a gust of teenagers. The boys of the group were obviously nervous about talking to their dates. The girls ordered confidently while the guys stood back, practically in a huddle. Peter noticed them and almost wanted to laugh at their juvenility.
“Thanks, I guess?” Peter said stirring his coffee again nervously.
“So … tell me about yourself,” Chip said, taking a sip of his tea.
“Oh, well … I don’t know. I’ve been teaching for about three years. Moved to this area about a year and a half ago to work with inner city kids and disadvantaged students. I like it, I mean I love it, in fact. I got my Master’s Degree from Columbia University and I-”
“No,” Chip said, leaning forward, “That’s what you do. I said, tell me about yourself.”
Peter blushed, God this man had the sexiest confidence. He was completely comfortable in his own skin, his masculine tone sent vibrations through the little table and through Peter’s body as he spoke.
“Well, I don’t know what you …? I mean, what would you like to know.”
“I don’t know. What are your likes, your dislikes? Pets, favorite television shows, do you have a boyfriend?”
Peter almost coughed up his cappuccino with that last question.
“Oh,” Peter said laughing, “Well, I love nachos with extra cheese,”
“Me too, lactose intolerant though.”
“Hate lima beans,”
“No kidding, nasty shit,”
“ Favorite TV show is Family Guy-”
“Love Family Guy,” Chip added.
“And no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Chip’s eyebrow raised, “That’s good to know.”
“What?” Peter asked, fishing for an answer.
“That there’s nobody I’m going to to need to fight off to get to you.”
“Who says I’m interested?” Peter flirted.
“Oh?” Chip said, blushing. “I see how it is.”
“You see how what is?” Peter challenged.
“You’re one of those.”
“One of of what?”
Chip just stared at him with that sexy smirk of his.
“This could be fun. A lot of fun.”
“Oh?” Peter said in return, “Why’s that?”
“You’re going to make me work for it.”
“Work for what?”
Chip just stared at him, about to say something but his radio went off, “10-4 Hunter in area code 725 ….”
“Hold on, one sec Peter. …. Yeah, this is Hunter….”
“We’ve got an 82 at your position. Right around the corner…”
“10-4,” Chip answered, sighing.
“Hunter?” Peter flirted.
A smile spread across Chip’s face … “It’s my call name. Haha everyone gets nicknames. I just happen to be good at finding hookers.”
“What?” Peter asked.
“That’s what the dispatcher said. Code 82 means hookers. We’re investigating a prostitution ring not far from here actually. Hate fucking hookers.”
“Why’s that?” Peter asked swallowing around the knot in his throat.
“Well I could tell you that they lower property values or that they perpetuate the image to young people that chastity and morals going down the toilet is okay, but there’s so much more. Where do you want me to start?” he said, readjusting his belt.
Peter didn’t know what to say. He’d never really given people who got paid for sex much thought. He felt sorry for them actually that they felt that was the only way out but now that he was doing these nude massages, he had a whole other outlook on it.
“So,” Chip said, stepping close to him, putting his hand on the side of his shoulder and looking at him with those sexy eyes of his. “We’ll continue this conversation later. You free tomorrow night?”
“For what?” Peter asked, little beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“I don’t know for dinner …. maybe dessert?”
“I might be?” Peter smiled.
“How about tonight about 8pm?”
“Sure, that’d be nice,” Peter said.
“You live not far from the old railroad station right? I patrol that area sometimes.” Chip asked.
“How did you know?” Peter asked confused. Had he told him that?
Chip gestured as if he was typing, “Looked you up.”
And with that, gave one of his trademark winks. Peter didn’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out. He guessed the former. There was something so sexy and confident about Chip he didn’t see in a lot of gay guys around his age. How comfortable he was in his own skin, perfectly fine showing little patterns of affection in public and remaining masculine. It was fucking hot.
But shitting where he eats? Peter wasn’t so sure about that and even thinking about dating the parent of one of his students may come back to haunt him somehow.
But the truth was, Chip was the first person he’d ever imagined he could possibly be a boyfriend with and though they’d only just met, there was something special about him, something that he thought would compliment him.
The banging on Peter’s door woke him up from his nap with a fright. He’d had a horrible nightmare that he was in prison and his whole career was ruined, that there were newspaper articles about him and he was wearing a mini-skirt standing on a street corner like a hooker.
The thought made him panic as he shook his head and hoped to get the grogginess out of it before he stumbled to the door. Who the hell was it? He wasn’t expecting anybody. His roommate luckily had gone to work. He looked at the clock on the wall on the way to the door. It was only 5:45pm, Chip wouldn’t be coming over for another couple of hours.
He didn’t even bother looking through the peephole before he unlatched the chain and opened the door.
“Hey beautiful,” Tony said stepping right through, unannounced.
“Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.” Peter said, not wanting to be rude but really not wanting him there.
“Yeah, I was in the area so …” he looked around the house as if he were looking for something or someone.
“Oh, well would you like something to drink? I have more than water this time,” Peter smiled.
“Uh, no I’m cool. Actually I got this nasty crink in my neck and I was hoping …” Tony said looking at him with those beautiful big brown eyes and long lashes.
Peter felt a sinking in his stomach, man he really did need the money still. He still didn’t have enough for rent and all those other bills and he knew that Anton was serious about that deadline. He was five days away and counting Anton didn’t fuck around when it came to money. Maybe if he just did a quick one.
“Yeah, well … I hate to … do you think we could do it another night? I ….”
“Why?” Tony demanded to know. He didn’t seem like the type of guy you said no to.
“It’s just that I just woke up from my nap and I have to get ready to … I’ve got plans later on.”
“Plans?” he said raising an eyebrow, “What type of plans?”
Peter didn’t know how to explain himself, he shifted back and forth leaning against the wall then off it, then back on it. He also didn’t figure he owed him any explanation. He was a grown man and it’s not like they were dating.
“Oh … just some stuff I’ve got to do.” Peter said, feeling that was sufficient enough of an explanation.
“Things or people?” Tony asked, half-jokingly.
Peter decided to laugh it off, “You’re funny, Tony.”
They stood there in silence before, and though it was probably only 15 or 20 seconds, it felt like a lifetime.
“So, here’s the deal. I know I don’t owe you no favors,” Tony said, his articulate speech pattern melting away and his New Jersey accent coming out, “But I really can make your life a hell of a lot better than this rat hole.” He gestured around the small apartment with the sparse second hand furniture, looking right at Peter as if proving his point.
Peter was offended at his assumption. He hadn’t asked for some handout. Yes, this place was a shithole, but that was for him to say, not someone else. He needed to move in somewhere better, but it wasn’t like he was groveling at Tony’s feet.
“Okay,” was all Peter could think of to say in response.
“I can do a lot for you, Petey boy. A whole helluva lot, believe me. I make a 7-figure income and I’ve got a lot of influence in this town. But for that kind of special treatment, I’m going to need to ask a few things from you.” His tone held the authority of someone who hadn’t been rejected in a long time. Peter wondered how many times Tony had done this before. Did he use unsuspecting guys so he could feel some kind of power high. Tony listed off his requirements. “For one, I’d like for us to be a thing. Just me and you, no one else. I get to use you exclusively and on my schedule. I’m a busy man, I’m sure you know, and I don’t like to wait.” He popped his knuckles menacingly and took a few steps closer to Peter until he was towering over him. “When I call you, you better want it. I have needs and you’re going to be the one to meet them. I want you available at a drop of a dime. I don’t care if that’s 2 o’clock in the morning or 2 o’clock in the afternoon.” By the end of his speech he had Peter’s forearm between the fingers of his right hand, and he was rubbing his thumb up and down roughly.
Peter jerked away. “Tony, I can’t … I don’t know if I can…” All of a sudden he was very frightened. How far would Tony go to make a point? They were here all by themselves. Peter was in great shape but he also was much smaller than the large intimidating man. Being younger should work to his advantage, but if Tony attacked him, Peter wasn’t sure that he’d be strong enough to fight him off.
“And for that,” Tony continued, unfazed, “I’ll set you up with your own apartment. Trust me, it’ll be a lot nicer than this dump. You’ll have total privacy – except when I come over. And anything you want at the casino is yours. You’ll have the full VIP status, on the house. Spa treatment, food, I’ll even give you some shopping money, if you’re real good.” Tony’s voice had dropped lower and it was laced with desire. Peter was very afraid that he wouldn’t have a say in what happened next. Tony didn’t attack him, though, he just continued his list.
“But if I catch you touching another dude ….” a small smile that hid his intensity appeared, “All bets are off.” He stood there with such confidence, that Peter could tell he assumed his deal wouldn’t be denied.
And with that, he patted Peter on the ass and then on the side of the face. “Capiche?”
Peter didn’t know what to say. Sure, it’d be nice to live somewhere else and not have to worry about where his next meal was coming from, or if he’d still have a job the next week. He did need financial help and it wasn’t like he’d hate the responsibilities. Tony was incredibly sexy. Even though his manner had intimidated Peter, it also turned him on. His confidence hardened Peter’s cock and made him want to get fucked. But then again, now that he had met Chip, he completely rethought things. Chip was kind and gentle. He seemed interested in more than just getting off. He wanted to get to know Chip more before he completely wrote off any chance with him. Besides, although he did love the element of control and jealousy that Tony brought in, too much could be a huge turn off and right now, Tony was straddling that line. He didn’t want to feel threatened all the time.
Tony didn’t wait for Peter to respond before he started heading toward the door. He was about to turn the knob when he turned around and said, “And do me another favor, take that shit offline.”
“What shit?” Peter asked, his heart pumping harder.
“That nude massage shit.”
Peter was surprised. How had he known it was him? He’d created a whole other profile.
“Like I said,” Tony continued, “I want you to be exclusively mine. Besides, you’re not going to have time for a side job while I’m with you. I’m gonna go grab my shit out of my car and when I get back, I want you to have the bed and massage oil ready for me. I’ve got that horrible crink in my neck again and you’re going to be fix it. Along with some other things.” He gave him a long wink and turned to the door.
Before Peter could say anything in protest Tony turned the door knob and almost ran into the man standing at the threshold.
The man, Chip, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. The two looked at each other. Both men took a step back in surprise.
“Mr. Martinelli?” Chip said, recognizing him, his eyes growing.
“Detective Johnson?” Tony asked, furrowing his brow. For a moment neither men said a word as they slowly calculated what must be happening. Once the realization hit them, they both looked at Peter at the same time and Peter’s heart stopped cold.
Bad Boy: Naughty at Night
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