LOVER FOR PAY: The Escort & The Teacher (M/M)

by A. J. Blake

  Lover for Pay

  The Escort & The Teacher

  A.J. Blake

  Cover designed by Creative_Book through fiverr.com

  Edited/Proofreading by TracyQueen through fiverr.com

  If there are any mistakes left behind, they are, of course, my own.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by A.J. Blake

  All rights reserved

  Lover for Pay

  The Escort & The Teacher

  A.J. Blake

  For those kind of days

  Table of Contents

  I – Fucked.

  II – Conference

  III – Stop

  IV – Wonderland

  V – Drugs

  VI – Junkie

  VII – Scar

  VIII – Revelation

  IX – Vent

  X – Child

  XI – Mine

  XII – Money

  XIII – City

  XIV – Family

  XV – Coward

  XVI – Encounter

  XVII – Bitch

  XVIII – Warning

  XIX – Hospital

  XX – Father

  XXI – Taken

  XXII – Fear

  XXIII – Blaze

  XXIV – Home

  Epilogue

  I – Fucked.

  It was just another Thursday night as London gathered his duffel bag, and just like every night, he hated having to leave his family home alone so late and for so long, but that’s the one trouble he had to go through with being an escort. He lived with his younger siblings Joyce, four years old, and Henry, sixteen, acting as their father figure since their Old Man was locked up for murder charges, and their mother, well, she couldn’t be more of a junkie if she tried.

  London was just content with the fact that his brother thought he worked in a warehouse overnight. He required this extra money, aside from his day job at the local antique shop, to afford taking care of his siblings. Since gaining custody the day after his twentieth birthday, the court was sure to enforce that if he could not take care of Joyce and Henry properly, they’d take them away, and that wouldn’t happen. They were his family, and no court system was going to take them away.

  After grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, London turned it open and swigged back some. There was a calendar on the face of the door, a place he wrote down everything since he was so forgetful. For the next day, Friday after school, he had a parent-teacher conference for Henry. The teacher having asked for him to come in since Henry wasn’t being the best of students.

  “This boy,” London sighed.

  Before heading out the door finally, he glimpsed himself in the mirror, taming the slight curl of his hair with a backwards run of his fingers. He didn’t think he looked like the kind of guy people would expect to be an escort. He was tall and broad shouldered, looking a bit like what he liked to think was a mix of rugged and classy. Dozens upon dozens of tattoos even littered his body, running up each of his muscular arms, all along his neck, a giant black skull sat upon his back, and a few were on his legs. London had a clean shaven face with sharp finely chiseled features, dark hair cut shortly on each side with a floppy fringe. And while his choice in clothing usually called for ironed jeans and cotton t-shirts like tonight, that was just his get up just in case Henry was still awake to see him off to work. When he reached his clients, his clothing mainly consisted of nothing at all, and neither his brother nor sister needed to see that.

  It was the middle of Spring, so the night was a bit muggy, but with it being so late, almost striking midnight, the streets were clear from traffic. Everyone was either home or already in their individual bars and late workplaces.

  He had a new client tonight, someone by the name of Marbell Matthews, twenty-five years old. Just by the sound of his voice over the phone yesterday, London could tell this was his first time calling in for something like this. First timers always sounded the most nervous. It was a lot different when his usual’s booked a night. They chatted like they were old friends, had a few laughs and then booked a time.

  London headed across town to the agreed upon location. He liked to think he was a bit of a classy kind of guy, so rundown motels were definitely off-limits. If he was going to sell his body for a good profit, he wanted these little meetings to take place somewhere cozy instead of stale.

  After the drive, he pulled into the parking lot of The Grand Abode; a four-star hotel. He stalled at the front of the lot, and looked up at the twenty story building. His client had informed London ahead of time that they’d be meeting in room sixty-five on the tenth floor.

  After stepping foot in the red carpet elevator, London pushed for the tenth floor. The hall was empty once the doors opened and he headed for the room he’d be spending a piece of his night. For a moment he stopped before the door to check his phone. Henry had a thing about waking up in the middle of the night sometimes to give him a call. When he was sure he hadn’t any missed calls, London stuffed the phone back into his bag and knocked.

  A moment passed before the door began to open and a man stood in the doorframe. He wasn’t at all what London was expecting. Honestly, his usual clients were men and woman who found themselves undesirable. This young man, however, was fairly attractive. His face was etched with soft, young features, lips not particularly plump, but also not too thin. He was put together nicely, well-groomed with not a lick of facial hair about him, shiny bronze hair wasn’t too far off from London’s own style. Except, this man’s had a little more curl at the top and the thinness of the undercut was growing out a bit. With dashing almond brown eyes, they were framed by black rimmed glasses, and thick, straight brows lined above his eyes. For a twenty-five-year-old, he had quite the baby face to him, small nose, round cut jaw, even had a pair of dimples dented beside the curve of his mouth when he pursed his lips.

  “Marbell?” London said.

  The other man gave a nod, taking a step back to let London in. The room was warm, cozy, just a regular old hotel room that was made to make its guests feel at home.

  London glided by Marbell, “Good evening,” he said, “Shall we get started?”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  London quirked his brow in Marbell’s direction. Was this the same guy he’d spoken to on the phone? The voice sounded the same but the demeanor was definitely different. London set his duffel bag down and held a hand out to his client. “Money first, play time after.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” Marbell scurried across the room to a bag of his own, this one seeming jam packed with his belongings as if he’d just arrived from an airport. He dug out a bundle of stacked cash and tossed it to London.

  “Fifteen-hundred, like we agreed,” London said after he’d finished counting. “Good, sometimes I have to drive into people’s heads that I’m no cheap date.”

  “Now, take off your clothes,” Marbell ordered.

  Without fret this time, London shrugged and began to undress. He was almost sure he’d have to walk this client through the night, get him to feel comfortable before they went ahead with everything. Guess, not. London tugged his shirt over his head from the nape of his neck, able to see the hunger in Marbell’s eyes that he seemed to be holding in. Next he unbuttoned his jeans and let those fall as well. Soon, he stood fully naked in front of Marbell. His body was well developed, his legs tone, arms strong with potential, ches
t and abs fit with muscle and a small trace of hair at his lower stomach, the numerous black and grey tattoos scattering his body making him ever more sought after. If anything, London was in perfect shape, and he had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

  The other man looked London from head to toe. “Are you clean?” Marbell then asked.

  London felt a slight offense. “Hell yes, I’m clean. In this line of work, I like to make sure I’m one hundred percent quite often. And I shower very thoroughly before a date.”

  “Nice to know,” Marbell said, kneeling to his bag again and he rummaged through it a moment. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees,” he thought quickly. “Make that elbows and knees.”

  London swallowed hard but did as he was told. He already had his money and could book it if he felt the slightest unease. “You must be use to this,” London suggested, coming down on the bed, his weight sinking into the sheets. He remained on his hands as Marbell continued to rustle through his bag, back curved, ass up.

  “To be fair, this is my first time doing something like this. I’ve just got a lot of frustration I need to let out. So, I don’t have time to be nervous.”

  “And a good jerking off wasn’t cutting it, eh?”

  Marbell finally rose from his bag, a small container of lube in his hand. “No,” he admitted.

  Coming upon London, Marbell laid a hand at the small of his back, his fingers touching over the fangs of the giant tattooed skull at the base of London’s spine. “You have a very nice body,” Marbell said.

  “Flattery, I love compliments.”

  Running his skinny fingers down London’s spine, he stroked down towards his ass, one of the only places untouched by ink besides London’s chest. “I have a request.”

  London pushed his quiff out of eyes, glancing back at Marbell from over his shoulder. “Certain kinks will cost extra, Mister Matthews, and that bondage, BDSM shit is off-limits.”

  “I want you to call me ‘Daddy’. That’s all.”

  London couldn’t fight a cheeky smile, and his body suddenly flinched when he could feel Marbell’s fingers tracing down his center, the pressure of fingers barely entering him. “Okay,” he moaned willingly.

  Marbell brought himself onto the bed, cupping London’s ass with both hands. “Okay, what?”

  The feeling in London’s legs almost went away when he felt Marbell’s tongue touch his body, gliding up and down his being, pushing into him like a small wet probe. “Okay, Daddy,” he shivered.

  London pressed his face into the mattress, feeling himself growing hard when Marbell reached around to stroke his cock. “Fuck,” he let out. He hadn’t expected this to feel so good. Whenever he booked an appointment with a client, he got no fulfillment out of the encounter, because he was in charge. His job was to make them cum, and now he was the person of interest.

  Sitting back on his knees, Marbell took the container of lube he’d gotten from his bag and coated two moderately. He pushed his glossy fingers into London, the tightness unexpected for someone who...got around. “Turn over” he commanded next, “Daddy wants to see how pretty you are when you’re fucked.”

  London released a moan when Marbell removed his fingers from his body, and turned over just as he was told. “I kinda like this,” he smiled weakly, “I really like being called pretty.”

  Marbell knelt between London’s open legs, undoing his pants to pull out his cock and stroked its length.

  “Mmm,” London licked his lips, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Daddy’s got a nice sized cock, but Daddy’s not getting any of this ass unless a condom covers him up.”

  Marbell dug in his pocket and withdrew a condom. “Who do you think I am?”

  Resting his head back on a pillow beneath him, London watched Marbell roll the condom on. “Aren’t you going to get naked as well? Surely you don’t like having sex with clothes on.”

  “And if I do?”

  “Whatever floats Daddy’s boat, I guess.”

  As though telling London to shut up without actually telling him to shut up, Marbell scooted closer to him on the bed and leaned over the brunette. Marbell pressed a soft kiss to the side of his date’s neck, and London could also feel the hot press of the man’s cock against his entry. He bit down on his lip, holding his breath. There were only a couple times that he’d actually been the one to get fucked, and every time his body wasn’t ready for the tight penetration.

  “Tell me if I need to stop,” Marbell said, and he got an immediate response.

  “Stop,” London released a sharp breath, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m not always used to this.”

  Marbell kissed at the bronze skin under his lips, dragging his tongue along London’s Adam’s apple toward his chin. With London’s permission, he began to slowly enter his body again, the pressure smoothing around his cock filled his body with new pleasure.

  Marbell stopped once more when there was another wince, apologizing by nibbling at his date’s ear. London was surprised by how good the simple touches around his neck felt, freeing his hands to glide down Marbell’s back, and was almost bothered by not being able to feel the warmth of skin beneath his fingers. When his hands reached Marbell’s ass, his sizable hands squeezed and pushed, pushing the rest of Marbell’s length into himself. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped and threw his head back.

  “That’s not what I told you to call me,” Marbell joked, and slowly, he began to thrust in and out of London, the comfort of this tight squeeze becoming less and less painful with each rhythm and more and more pleasurable.

  Becoming at ease with Marbell inside him, London arched his back off the bed, “Fuck me, Daddy,” he whimpered.

  Marbell closed his hand around London’s hardness as he leaned over him, working the younger man with a tender fist, pushing his thumb over the tip of London’s unsheathed prick as he thrusted.

  Taking London’s mouth, he sucked the tastefulness of the twenty-one-year-old’s tongue. When Marbell pulled away, a line of saliva hung between them before breaking. “Does this feel good?” he questioned, still jerking his playmate off.

  “Yes, Daddy,” London’s voice was shallow as his tone body squirmed. Almost convulsing from the pleasure, London dragged his hands through his hair, but he tried his hardest to hold back the raging shot of cum demanding release. The moment he could hardly take it anymore, Marbell pulled out of him and moved his hands. “No,” he cried, “Daddy, don’t stop.”

  Marbell stepped off the bed then to pull his pants completely off, and if London hadn’t already been so turned on, it would have surprised him to see the man was wearing a g-string with an open front. “Shh,” Marbell calmed, “you’re even prettier than I thought you’d be.”

  London’s whole body blushed and Marbell found his way back inside young man’s warmth, feeling as though graced with another dose of what he could only describe as ecstasy. Now, London was a very talented person when it came to sex. He could make his clients cum faster and harder than they ever could image, or drag out the satisfaction like he was giving the best massage one could get, but he’d never been administered such feelings, and what Marbell granted him was exactly it.

  “I want to ride you, Daddy,” he moaned out, running his hand up Marbell’s chest, still bothered that he couldn’t feel the man’s skin, but he could tell there was little to no muscle to him. “Please, let me. I want to show you how good I can make you feel.”

  Cupping London’s cheek, Marbell kissed the young man again, his thrusts slow yet passionate. He made a sound indicating a ‘no’, and London’s shivers became more intense, feeling the spot deep inside him worsen. His breathing quickened and he shut his eyes tight, sucking in a gulp of air before his eyes shot open and his whole figure shook underneath Marbell. The stream of cum exploded from his cock and landed on the side of Marbell’s face.

  London tried to catch his breath, breathing heavily as Marbell continued to fuck him. Slow rotating hips threatened to toss him into other worlds as his orgasm p
eaked, and when he could see the man becoming just as breathless and he suddenly kissed London’s pink lips, Marbell’s cock shuddered inside the tight fix of the escort’s body, jetting his own release of cum into the condom pulled around him. Even with Marbell having pulled out, London felt as though he could still feel the man inside him, stretched and filled to the brim.

  He laid there in bed as Marbell got up and walked across the hotel room after a minute. He’d grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped the cumshot off his cheek and removed the condom, even put his pants back on after. He stood before the bed then and fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, watching London as he lay there trying to pull himself together, unsuccessfully.

  “I booked the room in case one of us wouldn’t be able to leave right away,” he explained. “The cardkey is on the table below the television, just leave it there whenever you go and someone will get it.” With one last look back at London before he opened the room door, Marbell took in the wonderful sight of the young man passed out in the sheets of the bed. He smiled and pushed his glasses up, and said, “I was wrong. You’re not just pretty when you’re fucked, you’re downright beautiful.”

  And then the man gathered his things and left.

  II – Conference

  When London opened his eyes the next morning the first thing he felt was sore. His back side ached a bit, but even with that, the rest of his figure was strangely relaxed. His cheeks were still slightly flushed and he felt lighter. The pillow squeezed under his head was like a cloud and he didn’t want to get up.

  He could stay in bed all day.

  Then reality hit him and he never jumped out of bed so fast.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, springing off the mattress and scooped his clothing off the floor. He was still in the hotel room from last night, the fifteen-hundred he’d collected sitting stacked on the nightstand. He tugged his jeans on frantically, threw on his shirt and stuffed his feet into his boots.