Luc did as he was told, and the guy’s groans and helpless squirming movements told him that he was pleasing him. The man kept his hands on Luc’s disheveled hair to guide his head while Luc worked his sucking lips up and down the length of the throbbing column of steely flesh. But then the man moved his hands down lower, first to his shoulders, and then to his chest, where he squeezed the pecs and pinched the large dark nipples.
“Aw, shit! Big, hard chest—just what I like! Hot pecs! And that mouth of yours! Oh, that’s good—real good! You’re doing one hell of a hot job. You’re giving me a great suck!” Pierre gasped, getting more and more excited while Luc labored on his prick. “Your mouth feels so damn good—nice and soft and warm. Go ahead and suck it some more. Suck it real hard!” Luc did so. “Now, kid, that’s enough of that. Now,” Pierre grunted, “all you have to do is lie back down on the bed and let me get on top of you. Let me do the work—!”
He pushed Luc into the position he wanted, and then he straddled the boy’s heavy chest, his weight oppressing Luc for a moment until Luc got used to it. Placing his saliva-wetted penis in the deep groove between Luc’s firm, well-developed pectoral muscles, he rubbed his erection back and forth over the breastbone, aiming his cockhead at Luc’s neck and chin, and as he did so the john grew even more agitated with lustful excitement.
“Anybody ever done this you before?” Pierre asked.
“Done what, exactly?” Luc gasped.
“Got off on rubbing his dick on your chest like this.”
“Ah—no. You’re the first.”
Pierre grunted. “I thought so. It’s new to most of the guys I pick up. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s hot, really fucking hot,” Luc assured him, knowing that this was what the guy wanted to hear, even though Luc in fact though it was kind of weird, and almost asexual.
“Ah, your big hard pecs feel as good as a mouth or an ass,” Pierre gloated. “Can’t wait to cum all over them!”
Luc was beginning to get the idea. The man didn’t even want to come in his mouth, let alone fuck him in the ass! It was kinky, but in a way it was also a relief. This was going to be an easy fifty euros. Luc wondered why he hadn’t thought of his chest as not just decorative, but as an asset which could be exploited by being put to sexual use, long ago.
“Put your hands up here,” the john instructed Luc, grabbing his wrists and moving his hands where he wanted them, high up on Luc’s torso, cupping his pecs. “Squeeze those big fucking chest muscles together, on either side of my dick. Give me a nice tight place to work my cock in and out of. Yeah, that’s the way, do it just like that! Good boy. Does that feel good?”
“It’s hot,” Luc said. “It’s sexy—it’s really turning me on.” He wasn’t entirely lying. The john’s unabashed enthusiasm, the obvious delight he was taking in the act, was infectious.
“Aw, shit, I’m getting so damn excited!” Pierre moaned. “Okay, now you just play with those hot nipples of yours, Luc. Just rub them really hard and keep them stiff. And keep pushing your pecs together so that they’re rubbing against my dick, nice and tight. Oh, baby—oh, you, stud—this is better than being sucked off, better than fucking a guy up the ass—!”
Luc did as he was told, and the man began to fuck the space between his pressed-together pecs as though it was just another orifice, rocking rapidly back and forth to slide his cock in and out of the deep, firm groove thus created. In a perverse way, Luc really began to enjoy it, especially because he was pinching the hell out of his own sensitive, highly responsive nipples while the guy fucked his chest muscles. Nipple play always got Luc hot. He let his head fall back on the pillows, but Pierre grabbed his hair to pull him back up.
“No,” Pierre protested, feverishly. “Don’t look away. You’ve got to keep looking at what we’re doing, please! Look right at my dick, going back and forth between those big, hard pecs of yours, rubbing against your chest. Watch my cock, boy! Watch it! I’m going to shoot a really big load in just another of couple of minutes. And when I do, I want to do it in your mouth. I want my cum to go right into that sexy mouth of yours. Get ready to take it—to suck me. Aw, fuck! Shit! You’re really turning me on, stud, you’re getting me so fucking hot! Big chest muscles—all hot and sweaty—rubbing against my dick! You’re really something else, stud! When I came out tonight, I never thought I’d meet a guy as hot as you. Oh, does this ever feel good!”
He was ramming his prick back and forth between Luc’s compressed pecs much faster now, with the erection gliding on a film of sweat, and Luc kneaded his pecs rapidly in order to increase the friction.
“Oh, yeah! Aw, fuck! I’m almost there. Open up, boy—open your mouth, wide. Stick your tongue out—get ready to take it—!” the man grunted.
He pushed himself forward, deep into Luc’s mouth, keeping his hand on the back of the boy’s head and forcing him to take his dick, as he rammed it into his mouth and it exploded deep in his throat. Luc gagged a little when the salty taste filled his mouth and inundated his throat. The guy’s cock rubbed restlessly over Luc’s lips and tongue and the insides of his hollowed cheeks, as he sucked and swallowed to gulp down the flow of thick, slimy semen. At last, the john was spent, and Luc’s ordeal was over.
Pierre pulled away from him, sighing. “You really are something else, kid,” he repeated. “Usually, I last longer, but you got me too damn hot. What the hell—I got my money’s worth. I wish I could take a picture of you with your shirt off, so I can keep it and jerk off looking at it, thinking about my dick rubbing over your fucking stud chest.” He slapped Luc’s rump lightly, and then he caressed his sweaty pecs.
“Why don’t you?” Luc suggested.
“Why don’t I do what?”
“Take my picture. You have a phone on you, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Picking up his discarded trousers, the man pulled his cell phone from one of the pockets.
“For another thirty euros, I’ll let you take some photos of me—and not just of my chest—but nude,” Luc proposed. “Bare-assed naked, with my dick hanging out. How’d that be for a souvenir?”
Excited, Pierre took the photos. Then he got dressed. He handed over not just the thirty euros, but an extra twenty, as a tip.
“Thanks,” Luc said.
“Can I have your phone number? I want to get together with you again, soon.”
“Sure.” Luc have the man his number. “We can do this again, any time you want. Just call me to set it up. I’ll meet you, anywhere you say.” So long as you have money to give me, Luc thought, cynically.
Pierre consulted his wristwatch. “Well, the room’s paid for, for another few minutes. Stay here and relax a little, if you want to. Here’s the room key. Drop it off with that jerk downstairs, when you leave. See you around, stud. I’ll call you—for sure.”
Waving goodbye, the man left the room and went down the hall.
Luc took his time putting himself back together. He could still taste the cum in his mouth, so he rinsed it out over the bathroom sink. Dressed, and rather pleased with himself for how well he’d scored, he left the room and pressed the button to get the elevator.
He’d asked for fifty euros. Now he had a hundred!
In the lobby, he tossed the room key on the desk. The clerk caught his eye and nodded at him.
“Wait,” the muscular young guy said.
“Wait for what?” Luc asked him, a little haughtily.
“Are you done for the night, or not?”
Luc looked at him, momentarily confused.
“Done doing what?” he asked.
“Like we both don’t know. Do you want another trick?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have to play dumb with me. It’s not as though I’m a cop!”
“A trick?”
“Another john, you dumb punk! Another paying customer. Jesus, do I have to draw you a picture?”
“Who are you talking about—you? Are you horny, man?” Luc retorted, trying to sou
nd contemptuous.
“Now that you’ve dropped the stupid act, don’t get smart with me. You’re not so bad looking, but I don’t have to pay for it. No—it’s a guy upstairs, who just checked in. He asked me if I knew where there was any gay action around here. As if you could walk down the streets near here without bumping into it! I guess he’s too nervous to go out cruising at random. He especially wanted to know whether I could hook him up with somebody. He said he’s willing to pay. You interested, or not? If not, then I’m going to start making some phone calls, to some other guys I know.”
“How much will I get from this dude?” Luc asked, shamelessly.
“He’s good for fifty, and I’ll get twenty from him for setting it up. Okay, kid? Deal?”
“Fifty? I ought to be able to get more than that,” Luc insisted, surprised by his own confidence. He wasn’t going to get ripped off again, or sell himself cheap—not ever!
“Maybe could can, if you peddle your cock and your ass out there on the street long enough. But I’ve got a quick, easy fifty waiting for you right here, all lined up. If you’re good at faking it. You know, if you show a lot of enthusiasm, and you throw in a few extras—lick the guy’s asshole, or whatever else he likes—then you should be able to earn a tip. Don’t do me any favors, though. Take it or leave it. If you don’t want the john, I know half a dozen guys who’d be glad to come here and do anything he wants for that fifty.”
“Okay,” Luc said. “I’ll do it. I’ll take care of him.” Maybe he could get more money if he hit the streets. But this was a sure thing. He’d be foolish to turn it down.
“He’s in Room Six, on the third floor,” the desk clerk told him, smiling. “Go right up, and I’ll call him and tell him you’re on your way.”
Luc walked back to the elevator. It was waiting for him, ready to carry him to the next stage in his progress, whether for good or ill.
Chapter Five: Paying the Pimp
Luc was working the street. It was a hot, still night, without the breeze which often came from the nearby harbor. Luc had found a good spot in which to loiter, near the entrance to a gay bar. He could hear the music coming from the bar as, leaning back against a brick wall, he cruised and was cruised by the men who passed him on the sidewalk. Luc’s tight jeans, with his cock stuffed down one leg to create a very visible basket, attracted a lot of attention. So did the fact that he’d upped the ante by taking off his tank top and tucking it behind him, in his belt.
It didn’t take long for his next john to come along, pause to check him out, and then approach him.
The man was at least forty, not bad looking, and well dressed. He’d obviously had a few drinks, although he wasn’t impaired. Luc saw that he wore a wedding ring. Married men, cheating on their wives, were usually good prospects. They had a tendency to get right to the point, they didn’t mind paying, and they also tended to be good tippers.
The guy walked up to the shirtless young hustler, smiling.
“Hello, there,” he said.
Luc returned his smile. “Hello, yourself.”
“Hot night, isn’t it?”
“Steaming.”
“You look hot, too.” The guy reached out and touched Luc’s bare chest with the flat of his hand, rubbing the droplets of sweat from pec to pec.
“Looking is free, but touching isn’t,” Luc said, pleasantly, and making no effort, however, to pull away from the caressing hand. “Maybe you’d be interested in renting it—by the hour, or for the night.” He didn’t hesitate to put it so bluntly, because he was certain this guy couldn’t be an undercover cop. A vice cop would never make the first move by touching a hustler in a so explicit a manner. Otherwise, Luc would never have been the first to bring up the subject of money for sex. He’d learned that much—and a hell of a lot more—during his first few weeks as a hustler.
“Are you really a hustler?” Like so many johns, this one seemed excited by the possibility. Luc recognized the phenomenon. The more promiscuous and slutty a male whore presumably was, the more aroused such a john got.
“I’m not standing out here in hopes of catching a cool breeze, because there isn’t any.” Luc punctuated this statement with a seductive little laugh.
“Do you have a place we can go to?”
“Sure. Not far away. A short walk.”
“How much do you charge?”
“Fifty for an hour,” Luc said, shamelessly. Among the things he’d learned was not to sell himself too cheaply. He was good looking enough, and a good enough lay, by Cherbourg’s standards, to start the bidding high and then negotiate the price downward—but only if he was dealing with the kind of a tightwad john who made that absolutely necessary. “Two hundred for all night. More, if you want certain extras.”
“What kind of extras?”
“Anything kinky.”
“I’m only interested in the basics. Oral—and I want to fuck you.”
“That doesn’t cost extra,” Luc assured him. “I like to get fucked.”
“Let’s go.”
Since the night he’d turned his first tricks, Luc had been staying at the cheap hotel Pierre had taken him to. He was making enough money to pay a weekly rate for his room. He entertained his johns there, and he slept there, but otherwise he spent as little time on the grim premises as possible. He’d befriended the desk clerk, whose name was Jean-Claude, and who continued to steer business Luc’s way. Any time a guest checked in and inquired about the neighborhood’s gay scene, Jean-Claude took care to tell him about the hotel’s new male whore in residence. He even had stored on his cell phone a photo of Luc, stripped down to the smallest and most revealing of bikini briefs, so the men could see his body as well as his face. Showing that usually clinched the deal.
Luc’s short term ambition was to earn enough money, and save enough of it, to move to a better place. He might have to break down and find a conventional job—one which would still leave him free to prostitute himself after dark.
He flattered himself that he had what it took to be a successful male whore. It wasn’t a question of just being young, of possessing a handsome face, a good body, a big cock, and a reliable sex drive. Anybody could be a dumb whore and allow himself to be exploited and used up. A smart whore avoided getting into trouble with the police, and he learned how to read people, assessing potential johns quickly, developing an instinct about which ones were safe, as opposed to those who seemed weird and who could be difficult, or indeed downright dangerous. The latter weren’t worth dealing with, even if that made Luc miss out on their money. He wasn’t supporting a drug habit, and he was no longer homeless. As a result, he wasn’t so desperate that he had to go with just anybody.
Luc also acknowledged that, in a strange way, he was indebted to Perceur. Thanks to his brutish cellmate’s unrelenting use of him during his stretch in prison, Luc had shed any inhibitions or shame about sex which he may have had, previously. His relationship with Perceur hadn’t been all one-sided exploitation. After the first few days and nights, the big man had become rather enamored of Luc. He’d staunchly protected Luc from the other horny inmates. Any guy foolish enough to make a pass at Luc received a stern warning or a beat down from Perceur. As a result, the cons let Luc alone.
Luc was Perceur’s bitch, of course, expected to obey his cellmate’s every whim. But Luc had to admit that Perceur was, in his rough way, an experienced, inventive, and good lover. The guy really enjoyed sex. Each night, after lights out, he and Luc stripped naked and made hot, sweaty, athletic love. There wasn’t a part of each other’s bodies which they didn’t explore and stimulate, not only with their hands, but with their lips and tongues. Luc sucked Perceur’s cock and took it up his ass. He rimmed Perceur, licked his armpits and his balls, and even kissed and licked his big bare feet, sucking on his toes. Luc’s tongue lapped at Perceur’s tattooed skin, stroking and wetting it from head to toe. He used his mouth on Perceur’s piercings, licking the nipple rings, the navel ring, and the guiche inserted in
his perineum—as well as the Prince Albert in the head of his dick, of course. Perceur liked to have Luc take his rings between his teeth and tug on them, inflicting pain on him, and Luc learned to get off on doing that to the man.
But Perceur, to do him justice, reciprocated, doing to Luc everything which Luc did to him—with the exception of the piercings play, because Luc didn’t have any piercings.
Thanks to Perceur, too, Luc had improved as a chess player. The cellmates had usually played a few games together, to kill time between the evening meal and lights off—after which, of course, they’d invariably moved on to other recreational activities.
Well, Luc reflected, that was all in the past, now. Perceur had been a bit upset when, having served his time, Luc had been released. He and Luc had enjoyed a final night of frenzied, nonstop sex together in their cell, neither of them getting much sleep.
No doubt Perceur had another cellmate now, whom he was breaking in. At this hour of the night, in fact, the two cons were probably going at it right now, even as Luc led his john to the hotel! Perceur no doubt had his cock up the other guy’s ass, fucking the hell out of him. And he’d probably forgotten all about Luc, who’d served his purpose, so far as Perceur was concerned...
Jean-Claude gave Luc a knowing look and a nod when Luc and the married man entered the lobby and headed toward the elevator.
The john was all over Luc as they got undressed in the depressing little room, insisting on pulling down Luc’s jeans himself, and dropping to his knees on the floor to suck his cock for a few minutes. He was good at it, sliding his lips smoothly and rapidly back and forth on the sturdy sex organ, and swabbing it with his tongue.
“Fuck,” he gasped, when he finally pulled his mouth off the cock, which now gleamed with his saliva. “That thing really feels good in my mouth! Tastes good, too. If only my wife had a dick!”
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