Angelo is "getting attached."
"Hey, I think I'm going to stay up here a bit and work the business. The orders have risen between Virginia Beach and Williamsburg, and if that's happening then baby, this is a time I do not want to miss out on big deals," I told Brian.
"So buddy has you hooked, doesn't he," Brian asked.
In slight shame, I admitted so.
"You can stay the extra time, but you missed an entire family trip just to get some cock. You should feel a certain way about it, but I won't get in the way of business either," he said.
I wasn't in the mood for Brian's "speech." I sacrificed a lot so the family could go to the Maldives, for I forked the majority of the bill due to guilt. Hell, when other businesses from cousins, nieces or nephews struggled, I shuttled money into their business accounts to keep things afloat. Surely me missing one trip wouldn't kill anything.
"Be a little less selfish next time," Brian said.
I paid him no mind in a response to that. I had needs, three weeks passed since the day I landed in Norfolk, and I was still there, camping between his house, and our condo on the beach.
"Just how good is the dick, Angelo," Brian asked.
"Let's just say Brandon could've gotten my hand in marriage if he wanted, needed it," I said in jest.
Anyone would laugh at that statement, but Brian, as he was a little upset. To be real, the way Brandon made me feel, how sexy I saw myself when his big hands were transferring jolts through my body. No one, and I mean no one, could do that the way he did.
"He probably fucked you so good you couldn't pee straight," Brian joked.
"As a matter of fact.......," I said in response.
"Figuratively speaking bitch, for you don't have a real live pussy," he said, laughing at my sarcasm.
Me and this young fella owed each other nothing, but it felt right being his submissive bitch just a little longer, being at his beck and call when he needed that dick serviced properly. I just had to reaffirm with Brian that Brandon truly was no threat to our relationship, for I still deeply loved the man that grew with me over the years: just a side piece was hanging in my head, rent-free.
Handle yours, love you, and see you soon," Brian advised, giving me the green light of extra time.
I needed to let Brandon know, too.
"However number of loads you want me to swallow, I'll do it. You want to piss on my scalp and call it shampoo, then do it. You wanna fuck my ass until its swollen shut, then fuck my ass. Just let me be your bitch," I told Brandon after the last of four times he fucked me on the recent visit.
I swore to him no one else could do him like me, and vice versa.
The business itself was surely was booming in the Hampton Roads area, as I still had to make the time count by further expanding advertisement, taking day trips to places like Richmond or the Northern Virginia corridor facing Washington D.C. to make things happen. I ultimately wanted to take over Virginia as the top chef caterer, a task in itself since there were so many embedded in the "State of Lovers."
"Hey there, love. I'm going on another trip. You should join me," was the usual text I sent the night before, and the morning of the times I'd hit the road. I usually hit the road in the wee hours, and would come back in the later afternoon, early evening time frame, with expectation that Brandon would want to break me off. I mentioned having lunch with potential clients or to lock down contracts, having the chance to rub elbows with folks with money, but he was really only interested in one thing:
"Ion give a fuck about no deals, unless it involves this dick in your mouth," he'd say.
"What if I was giving you some pussy after the deal was made, or maybe you and another guy could take turns? Would that sway you to take some leave from work and ride with me," I asked.
On the fifth day I remained after my original departure date back to Florida, he decided he would drive to my condo to ride with me. I blew him for his troubles that morning within five minutes, swallowing that sweet load, then hitting the road heading to Charlottesville to meet with a high dollar, potential client.
"You got me on your little business venture, huh," he asked with an attitude as we left my driveway.
The sun was still down and we barely left Virginia Beach as he was already hard again.
"Damn, what's it gonna take to get that thing to go down? Do I need to suck that thing again already," I asked him.
"No, you need to ride it this time," he said.
We just left out of James City County and were a few miles from the first rest stop, as he entertained the idea of bending me over in a bathroom stall.
