Gay-for-Pay

GAY-FOR-PAY

Part 2

By Ford2020

Abel pulls his car into a spot in the wide parking lot, nearly empty at this time of day, and looks around as if expecting to see someone he knows here. He takes out his phone and thumbs through the column of numbers until he finds the one he wants. He pauses. Fidgets. Hesitates. Fiddles with the display. Adjusts it. And then fidgets again, staring at the number. Wondering. Thinking. Asking: Is this the right thing to do? Finally, he highlights the number and starts typing. He sends the text and then sits. Waits. Staring at the huge apartment building. Wondering what he'll do if . . . And then, a buzz. An answer. He looks down at the display and anxiously reads the reply.

He jumps out of the car and races across the lot and into the building. He bounds up the stairs, taking two at a time, until he reaches the third floor. Breathless, he raps on the door.

Patrick opens the door and gives him a wide grin. "Wow, that was fast. How did you . . .?"

"I was downstairs. In the parking lot. I took a chance you'd be home."

"I'm glad you did," Patrick says, pulling Abel inside and wrapping him up in a warm embrace. He plants a kiss on his mouth. "I was wondering if you'd ever come back."

"Yeah, me too," Abel admits sheepishly. "I still don't know if I should."

Patrick kisses him again, this time more intimately.

"I guess that tells you where I stand. I'd like to see you over here a lot, anytime you want. But I guess you're still working out that girlfriend situation."

"Yep, guess I am. But until I do, I don't see why I couldn't drop by, every once in a while . . . if that's OK with you."

"What do you think?" Patrick says, grabbing Abel again, and enveloping him in another, even more amorous kiss. Abel responds strongly, drawing the slender boy closer, kissing him deeply, enthusiastically letting the heat of their bodies join together.

After several minutes of this heavy kissing and necking, Patrick pulls back a little.

"I've been thinking about you ever since you left, Abel. Hoping you'd call, or come by. And when I got that text . . . it was just incredible. But, unfortunately, I really can't stay."

"You can't?"

"Nah. I have somewhere to be in an hour."

"That's funny, me too. Marco called me a little while ago and asked me to meet him at that Italian cafe he likes so much. I don't even know why I came by here. There's really no time to do anything."

Their eyes meet and they fall back into each other's arms, grasping, clutching, smashing their bodies together with unadorned desire and crushing their mouths together with pure hungry lust. Seconds later they separate and begin tearing off their clothes.

"OK, so I'll tell them I got stuck in traffic," Patrick says, breathlessly shucking his pullover, jeans and socks. "Like it's the first time I was ever a little late for a job."

"Yeah," Abel grumbles. "And like Marco never left me hanging out to dry. So, for once, I'll keep him waiting . . . "

They reconnect, now completely naked, breathless, squeezing their bodies together, and thoroughly enjoying the electric feel as their hard cocks rub against like kindling igniting a fire.

"Jeez, you feel good," Patrick groans.

"Fuck, why did I hesitate so long sending that damn text? I don't know what I was afraid of," Abel murmurs.

Patrick draws his palm over Abel's smooth chest and tweaks his dark nipples. The boy bends down and closes his mouth on one of the tight tits, licking and lightly nipping it, causing Abel to shudder and groan.

"Awwwwh, fuck . . ." Abel moans. "I can't believe how fuckin' good that feels."

"You're so sensitive. It makes me hot," Patrick says even as he continues to munch on Abel's tight tits. "Your whole body reacts when I do that."

Patrick drops to his knees and begins licking Abel's long bronze cock. When he pulls the entire head into his mouth and commences actively sucking it, Abel shudders again, and then throws his head back and releases a loud low aching groan. Instinctively he grabs Patrick's head and begins thrusting his meat into the boy's sweet welcoming mouth. Though Abel is pounding deep, Patrick proves equal to the task and opens his throat even wider, allowing so much of the young man's heavy pole to sink in that soon his pubes are literally scratching Patrick's nose.

"Yeah, take it," Abel moans, caressing the blond head as the eager mouth closes around his aching rod. Finally, though, Patrick is forced to pull back.

"I can't wait any longer. Come on, let's go to the bedroom," Patrick says, jumping to his feet.

As they head toward the bed, Abel stops him.

"Um, look, I have a favor to ask. Last time, I was the one doing the fucking, which I guess made sense since I'm the straight one and all. But, this time, I was thinking, um, maybe . . . "

"You wanna try bottoming? You sure?"

"Yeah. Does that shock you?"

"Maybe a little. It's not for everybody, y'know."

"Actually, I tried it recently. Marco took me to this motorcycle bar and we hooked up with some pretty rough types. Things got pretty hairy and I didn't think I'd like it, but . . . well, I gotta admit I did. . . . Actually, Patrick, I liked it a lot. Do you think that makes me gay?"

"I don't know. Do you feel gay?"

"Jesus, man, I don't know. Marco's been taking me around to all these bars. And I've had some pretty strange experiences. Gay experiences. I've done things I never thought I would do. And it's starting to really screw with my head. I can't say for sure what any of it means."

"But you still like girls—right?"

"Yeah."

"And you still like it when I touch you?" Patrick says, caressing Abel's body, closing his hand around his cock. Just the feel of the boy's fingers makes Abel's cock jump.

"Oh, fuck, yeah."

"Then I say you're one mixed up dude. But why don't we worry that tomorrow?" Patrick says, stroking the cock, squeezing it, and making it drip with precum.

Unable to resist Abel's beautiful brown tool, Patrick once again drops down and sucks it into his mouth. But after only a minute of tonguing it, he takes it out of his mouth and gets to his feet.

"Well, if I'm going to be the one fucking, I think you need to suck me," he says to Abel.

Abel drops to his knees and takes Patrick's pale young cock in hand. He starts off licking it, a bit tentatively at first, but as he gains confidence, he increases his tongue action.

"Yeah, that's it," Patrick mumbles encouragingly. "Take it deeper."

Abel complies, swallowing as much of Patrick's dick as he can, and working it with his mouth. And while he lacks the full-throated technique of Patrick, his efforts show a definite effect as the boy's slender fuck tool lengthens and firms up, finally becoming a much more formidable weapon. Abel is obviously enjoying cock sucking as he brings even more tongue into the effort, and adds a stroking motion in-between sucks. After several minutes of this, Patrick draws Abel to his feet and backs him onto the bed. With Abel's legs in the air, Patrick pulls a tube of lube from a nearby night table and applies it generously to Abel's exposed round ass.

The feel of the cool slick lube on his bud causes Abel to suck air. But when he feels Patrick's cock replacing the boy's greasy fingers at the entrance to his hole, Abel grits his teeth and begins squirming a bit.

"Easy does it," he cautions. "Remember: I'm still toy basic virgin at this."

Patrick snickers at the joke and proceeds penetrating Abel's anxious hole. But at a certain point, he is forced to halt when the young man tenses up and yelps in pain.

"I know what," he says to Patrick. "Let's do it like the last time, with you on bottom and me on top, riding you."

Patrick agrees and climbs onto the bed, positioning his back against the headboard. Abel moves into position over his lap, straddling him, and reaches behind to lift the young cock up and into the crack of his ass.

"Ah, yeah, much better," Abel says as he slowly lowers himself onto the hard column of flesh. "Like you said last time, this gives the one on top total control of the situation."

"Yeah, it's nice," Patrick croons, scooting lower to allow more of his dick to slide up into the hot recesses of Abel's bunghole.

With bated breath, Abel continues to gradually lower himself until he feels the upturned fuckpiece punch in with a sudden pop. The boy's cock is now all the way inside. Abel groans and Patrick sucks air as a hot shiver of delight goes through both boys. Abel leans forward and plants a heated kiss on Patrick's lips as waves of pure sweet lust fill his hole.

Patrick giggles. "Damn, I can literally feel you vibrating."

"It's just so damn good," Abel groans, still riding a crest of feeling that blankets his body from head to foot.

Patrick begins pushing up into Abel's body with a series of rhythmic thrusts. He drives his cock as far as it will go.

"Oh, fuck, yeah. Like that. Don't stop," Abel moans as he grabs onto Patrick's shoulders to steady himself on the tip of the boy's poker begins finding pangs of fiery joy inside him.

As Patrick continues to pommel him, Abel catches the timing and begins matching the up-strokes with downstrokes of his own, deepening the waves of sensation invading his guts. Every so often he continues to lean forward and plant a quick hot kiss on his breathless young fuckmate who like him is now swimming in streams of delicious sweat. And like him, he can tell Patrick is becoming as blissed-out by the give-and-take as he is.

"Didn't I tell you?" Patrick moans, his eyes glazed over with lust. "I can feel every inch of you swirling around on my dick."

"Fuck, yeah. Give it to me."

Abel's moans grow louder and deeper as he leans into Patrick's rock-hard cock, surrendering his entire will to the pure ecstasy of the moment. As with the experience with Enzo, Abel can feel his whole body giving in, as if he is been possessed by the boy's poker, and its immense power to toss him this way and that, burning its presence into the very soul of his being. And as with Enzo, Abel finally understands how someone can he taken over by this intensely manly kind sex. The presence of it is everywhere in the room, in the squeak of the bed and the heated musky smell invading their senses. But above all, it is in the moving sweaty crush of male bodies as they smack together in a mad rush toward climax.

"

F

uck! . . .

Fuck! Fuckin' shit!" Abel yawps, wildly, almost incoherently.

And then Patrick sees why: Without even touching himself, Abel has begun to come. His cock is suddenly jerking and spurting a great long torrent of cum straight across Patrick's belly. The second jet is even more powerful than the first, shooting clear across the boy's chest and landing squarely in the middle of Patrick's smooth pretty face, totally surprising the boy. He also yelps.

"Aaaaiiiiyyyy," he cries, bucking his body hard against Abel's twitching hole. "Oh, fuck! I'm coming . . ."

He continues to fuck as reams of his own intense boycum churn out of his cock into Abel who is still shaking like a leaf from his own strong orgasm.

"Aw, jeez. Fuck," Abel reacts as he feels the hot sticky cum filling him from behind. Gasping, he peers down and watches as his own dick continues spilling out long milky wads of his own man juice.

Some minutes later the boys crowd together in Patrick's tiny shower doing a quick cleanup before they have to rush off to their various destinations. Patrick reaches over and begins soaping up his sexy companion.

"Hey," he says, rubbing his soapy fingers over the lean muscles in Abel's well-honed back, "that was incredible, even better than the last time. I guess you know what that means."

"No. What?" Abel says, glancing over his shoulder.

"Well, you just have to come back. If the first two times were like that, who knows how amazing the next time might be?"

"I guess you might just have a point," Abel says. "That was pretty damn nice."

"You can say that again," Patrick sighs, turning Abel around, and snaking his arms around the young man's beautiful slick wet body. "Listen, no pressure, but I should be home by eight tonight. If you didn't have any plans with your girlfriend, and if you just happen to be in the neighborhood, I wouldn't mind if you just happen to drop by. I understand if you can't, though."

Abel leans in and gives him a quick sweet smack on the lips. "I don't know, Patrick. It's kinda like my time isn't my own these days—if you know what I mean. So no promises, but I'll see what I can do. After all, it's just a little harmless fun between us—right?"

************

Though he tears through midday traffic in a frantic effort to get to the restaurant where Marco is waiting for him, Abel is still nearly twenty-five minutes late when he pulls into the parking lot at Luigi's. When he hustles around the corner and sees Marco at the same outdoor table as before, he is somewhat relieved to find his friend looking unconcerned, lazily nursing a bottle of beer and breezily chatting with the same skinny young waiter from the last time.

"Sorry to be so late," he apologizes as he slides into a chair at the table.

"Who am I to blame someone for being late?" Marco rejoins. "Forget it. Hey, muchacho," Marco says to the waiter, "bring mi amigo a nice imported one like this one," he says, indicating the beer. "And a menu too, if he wants one."

"Maybe later," Abel says, still feeling a little warm from his mad dash to get to the bistro. "Right now, I think I'll just stick with that beer."

Abel watches as the young waiter walks away. "I can't say I'm surprised to find him here doting on you. He's really crushing on you, Marco."

Marco laughs in his charming way. "Ay, not my type. He's a baby."

"Looks to be about the same age as Ricky from the other night," Abel observes. "And as I recall, he seemed to be right up your alley."

Marco laughs heartily and flashes Abel a sly grin. "Well, look at you, compadre, catching me in my own contradictions. Let's just say that sometimes in the heat of battle, I slip and forget my own rules—if you know what I mean."

"To be honest with you, man, I don't know what you mean half the time. Like, for instance, when you called me up and said we really needed to talk. And when I asked what for, you got all mysterious on me and wouldn't tell me a thing, but still made it sound like life or death. You seem to like to do that a lot, Marco."

"Oh, that," Marco says with a shrug, taking a slow and very deliberate swig of his beer. "I'll tell you what, amigo: Why don't we get you that beer before we talk? Some things definitely go down better with beer."

Abel is now downright suspicious about Marco's intentions. Despite that, he decides to play it cool and wait for the beer to arrive. He reaches into a basket of bread sticks on the table and begins munching on one before he recalls that when he was here the last time, this waiter would not bring him any appetizers until Marco showed up, thereby confirming for him that this waiter is pretty far gone on Marco. But then, Abel thinks, smiling to himself, who isn't pretty far gone on his tall handsome Latino friend?

Several minutes later the skinny waiter returns with Abel's beer. After placing the bottle in front of him, the waiter slides a blank piece of paper over in front of Marco.

"Can I get your autograph?" he asks with meek earnestness. "Like I said, you're my favorite porn star."

"Wait: Did you say porn star?" Abel gasps, straightening up in his chair.

"Check with me later, will ya, muchacho?" Marco says, shooing the waiter away. He casts a wary look at Abel.

"That can't be right—can it, Marco? I thought you worked for a drug company."

"I do. I'm a pharmaceutical rep."

"Then what the hell did he mean by porn star? What gives, Marco?"

"Well, um, I guess the easiest way to explain it is to say I am a pharma rep—who happens to do a little porn on the side."

"What the fuck! You're not serious. Does Jo know?"

"Si, compadre, Jo knows all right. She should, since she's the one who encouraged me to get into it in the first place."

"No way. I don't fuckin' believe it."

"Oh, believe it, my friend. She even fixed me up with my first porn producer."

"Get the fuck out! What, does everybody know everything but me? Typical."

"Hey, listen, I don't spread it around. It could cost me my job if I'm not careful."

"Hey, who would I tell? But we need to get back to that part about Jo setting you up in it. How did that work?"

Marco sighs deeply, and then takes a nice long draft of his beer. "Jo, as you know, likes a project. And back when we were together, she got it into her head that I needed . . . experience."

"What does that mean?"

"Experience—you know, as in sexual experience. And I don't blame her. When I got to LA, I was just a naïve little chicano from the wrong side of San Antonio. Jo was this sophisticated California girl. And though she liked me fine, it was clear I wasn't everything she wanted in a boyfriend. And so, one day when she happened to mention she knew this photographer guy who moonlighted doing porn shoots, I asked her to set me up with him. Just to see if I could do it. Just to see if I had what it takes. And she agreed."

"And you didn't take it personally, when your girlfriend basically suggested you needed to try porn to improve your technique? I think I would have."

"Which is probably why she never brought it up with you, amigo. She didn't want to drive you away."

Abel suddenly becomes very quiet. He is obviously mulling over very seriously about what Marco has just said.

"But if she thought you didn't measure up," he says after a moment's reflection, "I can just imagine what she must think of me."

"Don't go there, Abel. You and me, we're very different guys. And Jo's not the same as she was either. She's a lot more determined to make things work with you."

"And did it help—the porn part, I mean. Did it make you more . . ."

"Experienced? Si. How could it not? Actually, it did a lot more than that. It gave me a sense of confidence I never had before, not just about sex, but about myself. I don't regret it."

Abel's eyes trail away from Marco. "But why do you suppose she never mentioned something like that to me? Do you think she thinks I couldn't do it?"

"Oh, she definitely does think you can do it. See, Abel, that's what this little confab here is all about. Jo specifically asked me to sound you out about visiting a porn set."

Abel's mouth drops open. "Get the fuck outta here! You're saying Jo specifically said she wants me to try porn?"

"OK, dial it down, amigo. She didn't go that far. And I'm not suggesting it either. But, yeah, we talked about it: giving you a chance to visit a porn shoot so you can see what goes on. And then, if it feels right to you and if my producer thinks the timing is right, you might wanna try your hand at it sometimes. But no pressure. No promises."

"Hell, yeah, I wanna try it!"

"Slow down, amigo. Dude, you don't even know what a shoot is. It's not like skipping down to your neighborhood bar and picking up some spaced-out trick. It's a process. It's a thing. You have to learn how to do it. But if you are really and truly interested, I did talk to my producer friend, J.D., this morning. He's the one I do most of my shoots with. I sounded him out about bringing you on set, just to observe—you know, be a fly on the wall for an afternoon to see what it's all about. And it just so happens he's shooting a couple of scenes this afternoon over in Sherman Oaks and would be willing to let you hang around. But just to observe, like I said."

"Wow, Marco, that would be fucking great. I would love to!"

"Then drink up, mi amigo, because we are heading out to Sherman Oaks. Next stop: the porn train. But try to keep this in your head: You don't have to jump into porn to gain meaningful sexual experience. Hell, in fact I know plenty of guys who know how to put on a good show for the camera, but they're still lousy in bed."