VICTOR
“That is very, very naughty of you, Mr. James.”
I purr, my voice thick and laced with lust.
My head is thrown backwards against the soft pillows as I peer down at my client with his head between my legs. I watch his pearly whites nip the soft flesh of my inner thigh. A moan escapes my lips, and I feel the tip of his tongue swirl around the bite mark as he slowly begins to make his way upwards.
My client snakes one hand away from my hips, trailing it higher past my stomach, brushing it against my chest, before he finally stops at my throat as he grabs me there. Like this, he holds me in place as he continues biting my flesh, licking it and sucking it, until he’s had his fill, and he begins to move away.
With his hair messy and color high in his cheeks, he offers me a wolfish grin.
“Please, call me Gideon.”
He says with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
With the money you’re paying, I’d call you anything.
And because the words that leave his mouth are so surprising to hear, I find myself smiling at the older man, settling further into the bed as I offer him my body for his pleasure, before I reach out to touch him.
He doesn’t let me.
Instead, he squeezes the sides of my neck, forcing me to drop my hand back to my side.
“Call me by my name, sweetness.”
He grunts out as his eyes dart between each one of mine.
Beautiful blue eyes. Brighter than any I’ve ever seen before.
As I lick my lips, I nod at my client before I open my mouth to speak.
“Of course, Gideon,” I say at once.
He’s pleased.
Of course, he is.
Men like him, they like to be in control. They like to dominate; they like to use.
I’ve met many men like him, and I’ve been fucked by many men like him.
But Gideon…he’s different.
He’s the only client I’ve had in my few years of working here who’s told me to call him by his name, and he’s the only client I’ve had who’s been hell-bent on touching me first.
Usually, the other men are here to pump, cum, and dump.
The goal is to have them leaving here with their balls empty and their appetites satisfied.
That’s what our brothel is for, after all.
Our clients pay us well and in return, we become their sex toys for the hour, the night, or for however long they’re willing to pay to keep us for.
Theirs to want.
Theirs to choose.
Theirs to take.
Theirs to pay.
This is an establishment—an honest one at that.
We have a reputation of leaving our clients satisfied, so it’s a wonder why Gideon hasn’t even let me touch him yet.
Maybe he’s a pump, cum, and dump type of guy.
And if that’s the type of guy he is…
“You ready to finally show me just how well you can fuck, or do you want me to touch you first, Gideon?”
I ask him as I tip my head to the side, my eyes shamelessly wandering over every inch of his toned, naked body.
From head to fucking toe, Gideon is completely bare.
A lot of my clients prefer to keep their clothes on—I only get a handful confident enough to show some skin along with their dicks—but Gideon…he’s different.
He oozes confidence, and he isn’t one to shy away so quickly.
As soon as he picked me for the hour, we both moved to this room, and it only took my client a few minutes to remove every single piece of clothing he had on. He admired me, let me admire him too, before he demanded I lay on my back with my legs spread apart, as he comfortably settled his naked body between them.
I’ve been with a lot of guys, many faceless and most nameless, but I can say with full certainty that the memory of this client won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
Gideon Florian James…a client to remember.
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