Three Reasons Chapter One
Sneak Peek!
Mr. and Mr. Chesterfield welcomed me into their hotel suite in downtown Boston, one giddy and smiling like sunshine, the other with downturned full lips I could envision wrapped around my cock after begging me for a taste.
But I was there to serve. I loved being a willing hole or offering my dick in return for a client’s night of debauchery. Being the head of Elite Escorts MM’s escorts was a dream come true, the money simply an added perk of the job.
Only once before had a married couple book with Elite’s gay branch, and I’d jumped at another chance for a little triple M action. The more, the merrier as far as I was concerned, but I’d yet to be in the middle of a beef sandwich.
There could never be enough tight holes and hard dicks to slate my hunger for sex. I’d been insatiable from a pre-teen the first morning I’d woke to a mess in my underwear and realized what had happened due to a hazy dream where I’d kissed another boy.
From that day on? I’d taken care of my morning wood without embarrassment. Made out with every gay in the school, closeted or otherwise. I’d sucked cum from countless cocks, swallowing my first load at age fourteen. Took a hole or gave mine over whenever time and location allowed after my first flip fuck at sixteen when I figured out I was vers.
I’d been called it all because of my openly sexual lifestyle too. Flirt. Immature fuck boy. Slut. But I told myself I didn’t give a shit how people saw me. I wasn’t ashamed of loving sex or the fact my full-time job included getting laid a few times a week. Acting as the top or bottom, I looked forward to blowing customer’s minds in the bedroom and satisfying their every need.
The latest of which came as a seriously non-matching, major size-differenced pair.
The younger Mr. Chesterfield wore lace panties, and the sight of his small cock trapped in the feminine scrap of cloth, made my mouth water. Bare of hair from the neck down, he proved to be a tempting treat I imagined sampling from throat to toes. He smelled like a delectable slice of strawberry pie I wanted to gorge myself on.
His stern husband?
All bear with a dad bod I hoped to rub myself all over before night’s end. Maybe even cuddle once we finished with the good stuff.
But they’d made other plans prior to my arrival which first had me stripping to my skin for the smaller’s viewing pleasure.
I’d always been a confident bastard—yet another name I’d been called and couldn’t deny. More lithe than body builder, I carried the perfect amount of muscle. A six pack rippled my core along with the V men loved to lick down toward heaven. I kept my groin waxed to better showcase my more than ample dick size. My blond stubble I kept permanent to leave behind beard burn when eating out an ass. Hair in an artful freshly fucked look, I felt ready to face the clients EEMM allowed me to enjoy.
“My present is pretty, Daddy,” the younger stated with his sexy British accent that sent a shiver down through me.
Fuck, did I love hearing praise. Made me preen like a goddamned peacock.
He circled around my back, not touching, but close enough I felt the heat of his slight body. While some might consider me twink-ish due to my youthful appearance, the boy rounding my left checked off all the boxes when I was in the mood to top. Maybe five-foot-four. Baby face. Curly light brown hair, big innocent blue eyes that ate me up with a hunger I could appreciate. He was thin and pale like a spoiled little boy used to lounging on cushions all day long, and that goddamned lace with a darker wet spot…
I bit the inside of my lip and clenched my hands at my sides to keep from reaching for him. Sucking on his dick. Tasting his sweetness on my tongue. Swallowing down every pulsed shot of spunk I could coax from his smooth balls.
My dick already strained toward my belly button without the help of a little blue pill, and I was ready to go no matter how or where the couple wanted me.
The twink’s daddy made a low rumbled noise in his thick chest at his boy’s appraisal of the goods they’d purchased for the evening.
I turned my focus on the naked man looming a few feet in front of me, wanting his approval as well. Easily topping my five-ten height, he absently stroked his thick cock, studiously obsessed with his husband checking out his birthday gift.
A mat of hair expanded over the elder’s pecs and belly, a full, untamed patch covered his groin too. While that area could use some tidying up, I didn’t find fault with his girth or the heavy balls hanging low. He would stretch me good, his sac making a nice slapping sound against my body while he railed my ass.
Or maybe I would get to nuzzle and tongue those balls. Nose over his taint and breathe in his musky scent while his boy attempted to swallow my dick.
My mouth watered again while I waited to be told what to do, excitement fluttering in my stomach and lust twitching my cock.
Twink boy once more stood behind me. Soft hands grasped my cheeks, pulling them apart.
My back arched on instinct.
“Can I have his hole, Daddy?” the boy asked, breathless with enough lust to ooze pre-cum up my shaft.
“You may, sweet cakes,” the man murmured his reply, adoration in his tone even though he continued to frown.
I got the feeling he wasn’t keen on sharing his boy but had hired an escort out of love for his sweet cakes. Oh, to be spoiled in such a way.
If only.
While the whole daddy thing wasn’t a kink of mine, I could appreciate their dynamic and the trust between them. They communicated openly, the younger taking charge and directing me onto the bed. The lucky twink ended up the meat in our man sandwich, the lucky dog, rocking between me and his daddy to get the best of both worlds.
I could admit to being jealous. His hole filled by his daddy’s thick cock, his own dick encased in the tight heat of my ass, being in charge of the fucking in every way…
“Fuck yeah,” I groaned, reaching back to hold onto the boy’s hip as he shoved his little dick in and out of me. I’d come prepped as requested in their file, uncaring the misters didn’t want anything more than a hole. Zero kissing. Zero foreplay. Zero intimacy.
The best type of attraction—nothing but lust, fucking, getting off, and a thank you before I strolled out the door.
I couldn’t imagine trying for a relationship with one dude let alone two, but a threesome sure as fuck was a fun fantasy to live out.
Maybe with the next couple I would get to be crammed in the middle.
It wasn’t like I could go looking for an orgy outside work, or I would have. Elite Escorts, owned by my older brother Micah, didn’t allow fucking on the side. Our bodies were contracted to please customers, and even though I’d managed the gay branch of the business for the previous two-plus years, the rules applied to me as well.
But hey…easy hookups and even better pay? I had no complaints.
The twink’s daddy didn’t lay a finger on me or even acknowledge the fact I shared the bed with them which I was fine with as well. He was all about his boy, gifting him the fuck toy he’d wanted. I didn’t take offense at being ignored by the bear with the sexy, low voice. My hole was being used, and I had my own hand to get me off. The night would go down as a win in my book.
I stroked my dick in time with the twink’s thrusts, his mewling noises a softer music in my ears to his Daddy’s grunts. I preferred a rougher time in the sack, but as long as cocks and spunk were involved, I was a happy boy myself.
“Oh…” the twink gasped, his hips starting to stutter. “I’m g-gonna c-come, Daddy.”
“My sweetest boy,” his bear’s voice murmured, and fucking hell, that low timbre, those words, send a shudder through me. “Come for Daddy. Squeeze my dick with your hot, little hole.” The bear growled as though his boy obeyed.
My balls seized.
I shot my load all over the sheets, cursing up a blue streak as my ass clenched around the twink’s cock.
“Daddy!” he cried and shuddered, his dick pulsing in the condom while buried in my ass.
“Good boy.” The deep, bear-like groan behind him in response to the twink’s orgasm sent another spurt of cum up through my length.
“Oh shit,” I moaned, still stroking myself while coming down, the words of praise ringing in my ears even though they hadn’t been meant for me.
That night’s clients hadn’t given me the climax of the century, but I’d emptied my balls and my extremities tingled long after I’d been told I could dress and leave. I’d found release with hardly any effort on my part along with an extra tip in the form of a couple of crisp one-hundred dollar bills.
Easy fucking money, pun definitely intended.
Steps light and grin plastered on my face, I left Mr. and Mr. Chesterfield to their cuddle fest in a world of their own where no one else was welcome.
Fine by me.
Unlike the twink boy, I had no desire for a sugar daddy to own and spoil me rotten. I loved my freedom and the variety of dick EEMM allowed me to sample.
But I wouldn’t mind hearing those words of praise whispered in my ears with obsessive adoration like the bear had done with his boy.
Yeah, I had a praise kink, I’d recently learned, but I refused to be ashamed of that shit even though my insides wanted to cringe. It had taken a whole two minutes to recognize where it stemmed from.
Micah had gotten all the affirmation in our household growing up—for his good grades, amazing athletic ability, and even better behavior while I’d been a terror who couldn’t focus worth a shit and always tripped over my own feet.
I would never measure up to my big brother, but goddamnit, I’d made effort in building up the gay branch of Elite with dedication and hard work. While I’d yet to be recognized for my achievement outside my big bro’s occasional, “Good job”, I’d planned my next step that would take me to his level of professionalism.
An MBA like the one hanging on his office wall. One sheet of paper declaring I’d finished a two-year college program and had truly made something of myself would certainly and finally make our pop proud of his younger son.
Sure, I’d secretly failed out at my first attempt at college while fresh out of high school and more focused on cock and beer than classes, but I’d grown up since claiming back then that I’d dropped out to save my parents money. Some didn’t see how I’d matured from lying my way through life, so I would be stubborn as fuck and prove myself capable.
I exited the hotel, taking note of the pink and purple streaks in the deep blue sky overhead as August’s muggy heat prickled my skin with sweat. My ass didn’t ache like I preferred after bottoming, but at least my balls had emptied.
An early Saturday night for a change.
Normally when off the clock at an early hour, I would have walked to the nearest bar and enjoyed a few cold beers, but I could use a good night’s sleep. It had been ten years since I’d last stepped foot into a classroom, but Monday morning would find me sitting at a desk attentive and ready to take notes.
It was time to prove I could stand apart. Be just as accomplished outside the bedroom as I was in. I dreamed of congratulations. Pop’s eyes shining with a sense of pride like he did whenever he looked at Micah, his first born son.
Goal firmly fixed in my brain, I hopped in my car and headed home to my apartment. My future was so goddamned bright I was going to need to add another pair of Ray-Bans to my collection.
But I was there to serve. I loved being a willing hole or offering my dick in return for a client’s night of debauchery. Being the head of Elite Escorts MM’s escorts was a dream come true, the money simply an added perk of the job.
Only once before had a married couple book with Elite’s gay branch, and I’d jumped at another chance for a little triple M action. The more, the merrier as far as I was concerned, but I’d yet to be in the middle of a beef sandwich.
There could never be enough tight holes and hard dicks to slate my hunger for sex. I’d been insatiable from a pre-teen the first morning I’d woke to a mess in my underwear and realized what had happened due to a hazy dream where I’d kissed another boy.
From that day on? I’d taken care of my morning wood without embarrassment. Made out with every gay in the school, closeted or otherwise. I’d sucked cum from countless cocks, swallowing my first load at age fourteen. Took a hole or gave mine over whenever time and location allowed after my first flip fuck at sixteen when I figured out I was vers.
I’d been called it all because of my openly sexual lifestyle too. Flirt. Immature fuck boy. Slut. But I told myself I didn’t give a shit how people saw me. I wasn’t ashamed of loving sex or the fact my full-time job included getting laid a few times a week. Acting as the top or bottom, I looked forward to blowing customer’s minds in the bedroom and satisfying their every need.
The latest of which came as a seriously non-matching, major size-differenced pair.
The younger Mr. Chesterfield wore lace panties, and the sight of his small cock trapped in the feminine scrap of cloth, made my mouth water. Bare of hair from the neck down, he proved to be a tempting treat I imagined sampling from throat to toes. He smelled like a delectable slice of strawberry pie I wanted to gorge myself on.
His stern husband?
All bear with a dad bod I hoped to rub myself all over before night’s end. Maybe even cuddle once we finished with the good stuff.
But they’d made other plans prior to my arrival which first had me stripping to my skin for the smaller’s viewing pleasure.
I’d always been a confident bastard—yet another name I’d been called and couldn’t deny. More lithe than body builder, I carried the perfect amount of muscle. A six pack rippled my core along with the V men loved to lick down toward heaven. I kept my groin waxed to better showcase my more than ample dick size. My blond stubble I kept permanent to leave behind beard burn when eating out an ass. Hair in an artful freshly fucked look, I felt ready to face the clients EEMM allowed me to enjoy.
“My present is pretty, Daddy,” the younger stated with his sexy British accent that sent a shiver down through me.
Fuck, did I love hearing praise. Made me preen like a goddamned peacock.
He circled around my back, not touching, but close enough I felt the heat of his slight body. While some might consider me twink-ish due to my youthful appearance, the boy rounding my left checked off all the boxes when I was in the mood to top. Maybe five-foot-four. Baby face. Curly light brown hair, big innocent blue eyes that ate me up with a hunger I could appreciate. He was thin and pale like a spoiled little boy used to lounging on cushions all day long, and that goddamned lace with a darker wet spot…
I bit the inside of my lip and clenched my hands at my sides to keep from reaching for him. Sucking on his dick. Tasting his sweetness on my tongue. Swallowing down every pulsed shot of spunk I could coax from his smooth balls.
My dick already strained toward my belly button without the help of a little blue pill, and I was ready to go no matter how or where the couple wanted me.
The twink’s daddy made a low rumbled noise in his thick chest at his boy’s appraisal of the goods they’d purchased for the evening.
I turned my focus on the naked man looming a few feet in front of me, wanting his approval as well. Easily topping my five-ten height, he absently stroked his thick cock, studiously obsessed with his husband checking out his birthday gift.
A mat of hair expanded over the elder’s pecs and belly, a full, untamed patch covered his groin too. While that area could use some tidying up, I didn’t find fault with his girth or the heavy balls hanging low. He would stretch me good, his sac making a nice slapping sound against my body while he railed my ass.
Or maybe I would get to nuzzle and tongue those balls. Nose over his taint and breathe in his musky scent while his boy attempted to swallow my dick.
My mouth watered again while I waited to be told what to do, excitement fluttering in my stomach and lust twitching my cock.
Twink boy once more stood behind me. Soft hands grasped my cheeks, pulling them apart.
My back arched on instinct.
“Can I have his hole, Daddy?” the boy asked, breathless with enough lust to ooze pre-cum up my shaft.
“You may, sweet cakes,” the man murmured his reply, adoration in his tone even though he continued to frown.
I got the feeling he wasn’t keen on sharing his boy but had hired an escort out of love for his sweet cakes. Oh, to be spoiled in such a way.
If only.
While the whole daddy thing wasn’t a kink of mine, I could appreciate their dynamic and the trust between them. They communicated openly, the younger taking charge and directing me onto the bed. The lucky twink ended up the meat in our man sandwich, the lucky dog, rocking between me and his daddy to get the best of both worlds.
I could admit to being jealous. His hole filled by his daddy’s thick cock, his own dick encased in the tight heat of my ass, being in charge of the fucking in every way…
“Fuck yeah,” I groaned, reaching back to hold onto the boy’s hip as he shoved his little dick in and out of me. I’d come prepped as requested in their file, uncaring the misters didn’t want anything more than a hole. Zero kissing. Zero foreplay. Zero intimacy.
The best type of attraction—nothing but lust, fucking, getting off, and a thank you before I strolled out the door.
I couldn’t imagine trying for a relationship with one dude let alone two, but a threesome sure as fuck was a fun fantasy to live out.
Maybe with the next couple I would get to be crammed in the middle.
It wasn’t like I could go looking for an orgy outside work, or I would have. Elite Escorts, owned by my older brother Micah, didn’t allow fucking on the side. Our bodies were contracted to please customers, and even though I’d managed the gay branch of the business for the previous two-plus years, the rules applied to me as well.
But hey…easy hookups and even better pay? I had no complaints.
The twink’s daddy didn’t lay a finger on me or even acknowledge the fact I shared the bed with them which I was fine with as well. He was all about his boy, gifting him the fuck toy he’d wanted. I didn’t take offense at being ignored by the bear with the sexy, low voice. My hole was being used, and I had my own hand to get me off. The night would go down as a win in my book.
I stroked my dick in time with the twink’s thrusts, his mewling noises a softer music in my ears to his Daddy’s grunts. I preferred a rougher time in the sack, but as long as cocks and spunk were involved, I was a happy boy myself.
“Oh…” the twink gasped, his hips starting to stutter. “I’m g-gonna c-come, Daddy.”
“My sweetest boy,” his bear’s voice murmured, and fucking hell, that low timbre, those words, send a shudder through me. “Come for Daddy. Squeeze my dick with your hot, little hole.” The bear growled as though his boy obeyed.
My balls seized.
I shot my load all over the sheets, cursing up a blue streak as my ass clenched around the twink’s cock.
“Daddy!” he cried and shuddered, his dick pulsing in the condom while buried in my ass.
“Good boy.” The deep, bear-like groan behind him in response to the twink’s orgasm sent another spurt of cum up through my length.
“Oh shit,” I moaned, still stroking myself while coming down, the words of praise ringing in my ears even though they hadn’t been meant for me.
That night’s clients hadn’t given me the climax of the century, but I’d emptied my balls and my extremities tingled long after I’d been told I could dress and leave. I’d found release with hardly any effort on my part along with an extra tip in the form of a couple of crisp one-hundred dollar bills.
Easy fucking money, pun definitely intended.
Steps light and grin plastered on my face, I left Mr. and Mr. Chesterfield to their cuddle fest in a world of their own where no one else was welcome.
Fine by me.
Unlike the twink boy, I had no desire for a sugar daddy to own and spoil me rotten. I loved my freedom and the variety of dick EEMM allowed me to sample.
But I wouldn’t mind hearing those words of praise whispered in my ears with obsessive adoration like the bear had done with his boy.
Yeah, I had a praise kink, I’d recently learned, but I refused to be ashamed of that shit even though my insides wanted to cringe. It had taken a whole two minutes to recognize where it stemmed from.
Micah had gotten all the affirmation in our household growing up—for his good grades, amazing athletic ability, and even better behavior while I’d been a terror who couldn’t focus worth a shit and always tripped over my own feet.
I would never measure up to my big brother, but goddamnit, I’d made effort in building up the gay branch of Elite with dedication and hard work. While I’d yet to be recognized for my achievement outside my big bro’s occasional, “Good job”, I’d planned my next step that would take me to his level of professionalism.
An MBA like the one hanging on his office wall. One sheet of paper declaring I’d finished a two-year college program and had truly made something of myself would certainly and finally make our pop proud of his younger son.
Sure, I’d secretly failed out at my first attempt at college while fresh out of high school and more focused on cock and beer than classes, but I’d grown up since claiming back then that I’d dropped out to save my parents money. Some didn’t see how I’d matured from lying my way through life, so I would be stubborn as fuck and prove myself capable.
I exited the hotel, taking note of the pink and purple streaks in the deep blue sky overhead as August’s muggy heat prickled my skin with sweat. My ass didn’t ache like I preferred after bottoming, but at least my balls had emptied.
An early Saturday night for a change.
Normally when off the clock at an early hour, I would have walked to the nearest bar and enjoyed a few cold beers, but I could use a good night’s sleep. It had been ten years since I’d last stepped foot into a classroom, but Monday morning would find me sitting at a desk attentive and ready to take notes.
It was time to prove I could stand apart. Be just as accomplished outside the bedroom as I was in. I dreamed of congratulations. Pop’s eyes shining with a sense of pride like he did whenever he looked at Micah, his first born son.
Goal firmly fixed in my brain, I hopped in my car and headed home to my apartment. My future was so goddamned bright I was going to need to add another pair of Ray-Bans to my collection.
