DIRT IN THE DUNES - PART 3
I am 32 years old, British/Australian living in London and working as a lawyer.
My authoritarian-themed fantasy series, "Dude's gotta pay his debts", can be found on Nifty here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/dudes-gotta-pay-his-debts/
This series, "Dirt in the dunes", is about my real gay encounters as a young guy growing up on the beach in Sydney. Check it out here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/dirt-in-the-dunes/
It is 2010 and I am 17 years old at the point this story is set.
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I started university at the end of January 2010, aged 17. I was entering the Law programme so it was going to be a five-year slog for me. The norm in Australia, in contrast with many other countries like the US and UK, was for students to live at home with their parents unless they came from a rural family or from interstate or overseas, in which case halls of residence were available. As we lived in Sydney, I stayed home, but I was certainly going to need to boost my income if I wanted to have a decent social life.
I'd been a pool boy since the age of about 14, cleaning the backyard swimming pools of a dozen or so homes in the neighbourhood on a weekly or fortnightly basis. I did the basic chemical tests and chlorine levels but no proper maintenance; if the tests showed up any issues that I couldn't easily sort, I told the homeowners and left the rest to professionals. I just used the vaccuum and the net, cleaned out the filters, did a test and that was it. By 2010 this was about 25 bucks an hour, an hour to an hour-and-a-half being the typical time it took, so I was frankly fuckin' cheap. But that was why I got the work. In the autumn and winter, I'd work wearing a cap or woollen beanie, hoodie (or waterproof if it was raining), but always shorts, and old Converse All Star Lo trainers or Havaianas so I could easily kick them off and work barefoot because I had to step in and out of the water. It could get a bit nippy, but most clients only wanted the job done monthly when the pool wasn't in use (or, if they used a pool cover, not at all), apart from some who had the pool heated for year-round swimming. In spring and summer as it warmed up, it was a much nicer job. I'd get busy doing the clean weekly, and I could wear boardies (always commando), a tshirt or sleeveless tee or vest, and sunnies. If my clients weren't home and it was hot, I could take my top off or even take a dip.
I did door knocking in late 2009 and early 2010 to boost my client list, as well as taking some referrals on. One new guy was Andrew, a bloke in his late 20's, maybe 30 years old. He was a mining engineer and worked at a remote site on a two-weeks on, two-weeks off schedule, so I didn't see him much, and when I did, his girlfriend was often there. They were both pretty friendly, always offering me a drink. There was one day when I cleaned his pool as he was working out in his carport gym wearing nothing but a pair of old rugby shorts, while his girlfriend pottered about inside. He was about 6'1", with short blond hair and always what looked like at least a week's thick dark blond stubble on his face. He wasn't bad looking facially, but his bod made me chub up awkwardly in my boardies. Obviously there wasn't much to do onsite at the mines other than work out, because he had a burly, muscular frame. He didn't have a 6-pack - he would have liked his beer and burgers too much for that - but he had only a slight belly. His chest, stomach, arms and legs had a generous covering of dark blond hair, with a light dusting of it down his back as well. The picture was completed by an assortment of tattoos scattered over his body, including a Japanese half-sleeve on one arm. A young man's dad bod, but a fit-as-fuck version of it. I kept glancing over as he lifted weights, trying to catch glimpses of his sweaty pits. I don't know if he saw me looking, but he might have done.
"Mate", he called over, "spot me?" I wandered over, barefoot in my boardies and sleeveless tee, willing my semi to deflate, and spotted his bench press for a couple of sets as he looked up the legs of my shorts (or so I imagined and hoped - I mean, I was almost straddling his face and there was nowhere else to fuckin' look). "Cheers buddy." He got up and fetched us both a couple of cans of Diet Coke, which we sank while chatting as his girlfriend joined us.
Later in March, it was still pretty hot and muggy as I took my bike around the back of Andrew's place one Sunday afternoon to clean his pool. I was wearing boardies (commando, of course), an oversized surfie vest that showed off most of my lightly hairy pecs and often my nipples, sunnies and my Havaianas. When I was at school, I'd worn my hair in a short back and sides, but in my last year, 2009, I'd let it grow and gotten away with it; it had recently finally grown long enough to tie back, which was how I was wearing it then. I'd seen Andrew's ute (that's Aussie for pickup truck) out front and knew he was home, but it was a nice surpise to see him lying on a sunlounger nursing a beer. He was wearing nothing but damp boardies and sunglasses, and his skin and hair were wet from the pool, his big bare feet hanging off the end of the lounger. "G'day mate," (yes, Australians really do say that), "don't mind me". I got the equipment out of his shed, kicked off my thongs and started work.
I got pretty sweaty in the sun and the muggy humidity, and my vest was damp, so after 10 minutes I peeled it off and tossed it over to my Havaianas; there was no way Andrew would mind. Behind my sunglasses I kept glancing over at him for a bit of an ogle. He reminded me a bit of the guy who'd busted my cherry last December, but younger and fitter. Fuck, so much fitter. Was it my imagination or was he casting the occasional glance my way? Adjusting himself in his shorts maybe? Or wishful thinking on my part? Anyway, we occasionally broke the blokey silence with a little chat; I asked him where his girlfriend was, and he said they'd split, it had only been a casual thing anyway.
Finally I finished and packed the equipment away. "Beer mate?" asked Andrew, waving his empty in the air. The curse of the Australian academic year running from January to December, and my birthday being in November, was that I'd spend most of my first year at uni being 17 years old and technically unable to drink alcohol. But we were in private, so I nodded enthusiastically. He got up and motioned for me to follow him, and as I walked across the grass bare-chested and barefoot, I got to take in his broad muscular wet back and rugby-player legs as he padded topless and barefoot across the patio.
It was cooler and less humid in his kitchen-living area with the aircon on, and we pushed our sunnies up onto our heads. He cracked open a couple of bottles of pale ale and we clinked them in a cheers and knocked back a slug. I checked out his living room to avoid looking at his brawny sexiness. I hoped he wouldn't notice my stubborn semi and was glad that at least it hadn't fully porked up; even thinking about it made my dick jump in my boardshorts. When I looked back at Andrew, he had a little smile on his face. "Mate, how old are you?" he asked. "17". "Yer got a good build for 17, when did you start working out?" "A couple of years ago, my Dad has kit set up in his garage." "Nice. Yeah, very nice. Show us yer bicep". I did the bicep thing and he reached over and gave my muscle a squeeze. "Nice one mate." He took another chug and regarded me for a minute. "Wanna make a litte extra money Dave?" "Ummmm, sure." He paused, nodding. "How about I give you 20 bucks, and you show me yer dick?" Whatnow? This was wild, and I tried to school my face to not look enthusiastic, even though my cock jerked in my shorts. "Ummmmm... seriously?" I murmured. "Yeah mate, why not? Here," he reached over to grab his wallet from the kitchen counter, fished out a 20 and set it down on the work surface. "It's here if ya want it. All you need to do is show me what ya got". I paused, hesitating, then nodded.
Slowly, I set down my beer, unpopped the fastener at my waistband, ripped the velcro fly open and let my boardies drop to my ankles. My cock stuck out, somewhere between a semi and a full boner, and as my boardies slid down, there was a strand of precum connecting the piss slit to the fabric. Fuck, that was embarassing. I felt conflicted; showing off a softie was one thing, but this was a clear signal that I was into him. Andrew was just staring at me, his eyes running up and down my body, a slow whistle escaping from his pursed lips. "Nice", he murmured. "Can I touch it?" I forced myself to hesitate, then nodded, and he reached over and gently grasped my shaft in his sweaty palm. He gave it a slow stroke, then gathered some of the cocksnot from the tip and rubbed it over the head, making me take a shuddering breath. "Fuck that's nice Dave". I was breathing heavily, now fully erect.
"Wanna see mine?" I nodded again. He set down his beer, untied his drawstring and pushed his boardies down as well. Jesus, his cock stood out from his thick dark blond bush, I don't know how big it was but it was bigger than mine and Philip's, bigger than the guy's who'd fucked me in the sand dunes. Maybe 8 inches? More? It was uncut and thick, the head peeking from its hood and shiny with pre. "You can touch it if you want Dave, go on." I took his warm, thick length in my hand and stroked him like he'd stroked me, but I didn't stop, I just kept doing it, mesmerised by how his foreskin slid back and forth over his slick knobhead. "Ooooooh fuck yeah Dave, that's it. How about you use your mouth?" I paused, cogs whirring, and said "how much?" He looked a bit confused, or pretended to. "How much what?" "How much to suck it?" A slow grin spread across Andrew's stubbled face. "I'll give you another 20". He took the note from his wallet and set it down with the other one. I looked at the cash, looked at his face, kicked my boardies off my ankles and across the floor, and slowly got down on my knees, totally naked.
Gripping the shaft, I peeled back the foreskin and licked the wet head, tentatively at first, before taking the glans into my mouth sucking it, and then moving my lips a few more inches down the length of it. "Yessssssss, that's it boy", he whispered hoarsely. I kept sucking it and working the shaft with my hand, trying to get more and more in my mouth, until at about 6 inches I gagged slightly and pulled off him, panting. "Don't stop Dave, you're doing good". After catching my breath I started again, pushing through the gagging to suck his cock properly. I couldn't take it all, it was too long, but I was getting into it. "Fuck Dave, you little slut, you've fuckin' done this before ain't ya?" "Hmmm-hmmmm" I went, around a mouthful of tubesteak. "I fuckin' knew it, fuckin' strutting around my backyard with yer stiffie in yer shorts, checking me out." He slid out of my mouth, lifted my chin up so I was looking into his eyes and muttered "Open up". I opened my mouth and he drooled a line of spit down onto my tongue. "Now swallow that Dave," he whispered. Fuck, I'd never played like this before and it was fuckin' hot. I swallowed his spit and started to stroke my own cock at the same time as stroking his. "Fuck, you like it dontcha?" I nodded. He smiled, a big, broad, genuine smile - "Good boy" - and gave me a slow, wet tongue kiss as I worked our tools with my hands.
"Come on." He broke our kiss and pulled me up to my feet by my hand, kicked his boardies off his ankles and led me naked to his bedroom. We took our sunglasses off the tops of our heads and he put them on his chest of drawers. "Get back on it Dave", and I sat on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of me and I took his cock down my throat as I wanked. He had me suck him for a good 10 minutes and I had to stop jerking off to avoid cumming, but my jaw and throat continued to relax as he started to fuck my face, each outstroke bringing a dollop of stringy spit out over my lips to drool down my chin. "Fuck yer good Dave, yer so good, that's it boy".
Finally he pulled out and started casually wanking his wet cock. "Let me see yer ass". I nodded, "for another 20?" Andrew laughed. "Sure, why not, another 20." I turned and got onto the bed on all fours. "Awwwww, nice ass Dave. Spread it for me." I rested my head on the bed, reached back and spread my hard, hairy glutes. "Fuckin' nice hole." He planted one sweaty palm on my butt and rubbed his thumb over my moist hairy anus. "That's so nice. You been fucked?" "Yeah", I murmured. "Like it?" "Yes", I nodded into the mattress. "That's good Dave, 'cos I'm gonna fuck you in a bit. That cool?" I nodded. He chuckled, leaned in and spat on my hole, and then a sudden gasp and a moan escaped me as his rough bristled chin and mouth ground into my crack and his tongue swept over my shitter in a firm, broad wet stroke. He then flicked and teased my asshole withn the point of his tongue for a while before reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing a little bottle from the drawer. "You know how to use poppers?" I shook my head, I didn't even know what they were. "Here, like this", he took the cap off, closed one nostril with his thumb and took a deep hit up the other. "You try". I took the bottle and did what he'd done, blinking at the sudden rush. "Thats it, keep taking hits, it will help you to open up for me." He got down on his knees behind me and started to eat my asshole, taint and balls with relish, making grunting sounds and pulling my rigid cock back between my legs to stroke it and occasionally suck the head, milking its precum. He fed on my anus for ages, probing my chute, grinding that stubbly chin into my slippery spit-wet taint and slobbering liberally until my hairy scrotum ran with saliva. All the while I held the bottle of poppers, taking an occasional hit, feeling the headrush and my anal sphincter flaring open to admit Andrew's tongue.
"Tastes so good Dave." He reached back to his nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube and a foil-wrapped condom. He squirted some lube on my asshole and pushed a finger easily up into my shitchute, so easily he immediately added another and turned his hand around until he found what he was looking for, then started to wriggle his fingers on what I assumed was my prostate - this was the first time anyone had intentionally targetted my fucknut and I let loose a loud "HOLY FUCK" as Andrew massaged it skilfully. He chuckled as he worked on opening me up and I took another hit of the poppers. Then he withdrew his fingers, ripped the foil wrapper and pinched-and-rolled the rubber over his thick tool, hooking fingers under the rim of it to stretch and tug it down his full length. He smeared another dollop of lube over the sheathed meat and shuffled forward between my legs, his knees forcing my legs to bend and spread wide. He put his hand in the middle of my back and firmly pushed me down until I was flat on my front, my raging hardon trapped underneath me, my bare feet waving in the air. "Take a hit", he whispered, and when I had he took the bottle off me and put it back on the nightstand. "Spread for me". I reached back, gripped my glutes and spread them as wide as I could. "That's it." I felt his cockhead at my hole, and the insistent pressure as he pushed through my ring and started to force up my tunnel into my rectum. "AAAWWWWWWWW FUUUUCK YOU'RE SO BIG" I moaned loudly at the dull pain, but his full weight was now on my body, his legs clamped around mine, my bare feet hooked around his knees, his furry chest on my back, his mouth in my ear: "Ssssshhhhhhh Dave, just breathe, you can take it, just breathe for me." When he was all the way inside me, his balls nestled against mine, he rested on me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, one hand gripping my wrists and keeping my arms up by my head, his mouth at my ear making soft whsipers of encouragement, mixed with licks and nibbles at my earlobe. "You feel so good Dave, yer so fuckin' tight." He lay there on top of me, letting me adjust, barely moving his hips, just kissing my ear, my neck and stroking my body beneath him with his free hand.
At last he started to slowly thrust, the largest cock I'd so far had up my cunt sliding hard over my fucknut through my slippery stretched asshole. Faster and harder he started to move, his sweaty chest wetting my back, until he let go of my wrists, pushed himself up on his arms, and really started to fuck me. Oh my God, the poppers, the assplay, the long lingering patience, had all paid off and my cunt felt unreal. "Yeah fuckin' take it boy, take it, fuck yeah you slutty little cunt, fuckin' taking cock for money like a whore," Andrew muttered, his dirty potty-mouth in full flow as his groin slapped into my butt. But he was right, I realised as he hammered my guts, I'd taken 60 bucks to let him do this, I was a fuckin' teen rent boy whore. "Fuck yeah I'm your fuckin' whore, I'm your fuckin' whore", I groaned, and Andrew fucked harder, his hips slamming into my ass with wet smack sounds. He moved up onto his knees, his hands pulling me back with him by my hips, and my straining swollen cock was finally free to wave in the air as he kept the fuck up doggie-style for a while longer.
My previous experiences had finished fairly quickly when the fucking started, but Andrew had porn-star stamina to go with his porn-star cock meat, and when he finally pulled out of my ass (making me cry out at the sudden emptiness), it was only to flip me over on my back, spread my legs by my ankles, and spear my pussy with his rod again. I couldn't wait any more, I had to start wanking like a gooner on heat. "That's it you slut, cum for me, show me how much you love my cock up yer cunt", and seconds later my back arched as pleasure jolted through me and a lance of cum hit my mouth, subsequent spurts lashing my chest and abs before splattering over my groin and inner thighs as he kept my body jerking and shaking with each pump of his pelvis. "FUCK YYYYYEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH" Andrew growled as he smashed into me, grunting, then slowly easing off, his strokes slowing down until he stopped. Sweating and breathing hard, he let go of my ankles and collapsed on top of me between my legs, my cum squelching between our wet bodies as he clamped his mouth over mine in a probing wet kiss that began aggressively and slowly eased down into a gentle, sensual snog. The he leaned back, smiling happily at me with a twinkle in his eye, and held the base of his condom as he slowly withdrew his softening cock from my battered cunt. The cum baggie was so full, and he carefully tugged it off, laid it on his nightstand and picked up his phone. "Lift up yer legs, let me see yer ass again". I did as I was told and he leaned in close and took some photos. "Whoa, your pussy is so fucked Dave, check this out." He flopped back down beside me and showed me the snaps. My face was obviously not in shot; my asshole was all puffy and glistening with lube - I slipped my hand down and rubbed my wet hole as I stared at the shots, fascinated. Then I leaned across and took his wet softie in my mouth and sucked his cum off it. "Awwwww yeah, that's nice," Andrew said as he laid back and let me clean him.
"Sorry about my dirty talk", he laughed, I've always been shit at it but I get carried away". "I thought it was hot!" I said, "and factually correct, 'cos you paid me 60 bucks for that so I guess that does make me a whore." Andrew looked at me curiously. "So what? Why not get paid for something yer gonna do anyway? Besides, we're all whores Dave, in one way or another. Beer?" He got up and I followed him back to the kitchen, where he tossed the condom in the bin, poured the half-drunk bottles down the sink and got us out a couple of fresh coldies, and handed me a roll of kitchen towel to wipe myself down with.
Andrew was still off work the following week and he texted and arranged for me to come around to do his pool at a specific time on Sunday afternoon (usually I just rock up when it suits me unless they text me to say otherwise). When I got into his back yard he was on the lounger on the lawn by the pool, wearing only boardshorts. The back of the lounger was propped up at about 60 degrees and under it (on the cool grass, shaded from the warm sun) he had a bottle of lube, a bottle of poppers, a pack of condoms and his wallet: I guess he had plans! "Mate", he greeted me, as I kicked off my Converse by the shed and took out the cleaning and testing equipment. As I laid it out by the pool, my bare feet enjoying the cool grass, he said "Oi", and when I looked up he was grinning and waving a 20 at me. "Naked", he said. "What?" "Do it naked." I just stared, my hand shielding my eyes from the sun. "I... want... you... to... clean... my... pool... in... the... nude" he said with exaggerated pauses, waving that 20 at me still. I took a quick look around. The houses in this suburb were all single-storey, on big blocks with high fences, so there was no way for anyone to see over into Andrew's yard even if they were home. I shrugged, peeled off my sleeveless tee, dropped my boardies, and put my kit with my thongs in the shade by the shed. I was totally naked except for my sunglasses and the elastic hair tie that keept my hair back in a short ponytail. My cock was soft but was looking its best, at that point before it starts to get hard but has enough blood flow to swing nicely. Andrew nodded appreciatively as I plugged in the hose and started work.
As I worked my way around the pool, Andrew pushed his boardies down to his ankles, squirted some lube on his big hard cock, and started to lazily stroke it, one arm behind his head showing off a sweaty pit, as he watched me. Fuck man, I started to chub up as I worked and soon had a full hardon. I was halfway through the job when he waved another couple of 20s at me with one hand while waving his cock with the other, grinning that big stupid grin that made me smile. I padded over, sank to my knees on the grass and took over the stroking of his slippery cock for a few seconds before beginning to work it down my throat. He sighed, rested a hand on the back of my head with the other arm behind his head, and closed his eyes behind his sunnies as he relaxed into the head I was giving. He let me work on his cock for quite a while before finally moving to sit up; as he indicated I should stand up, he passed me the poppers. Sitting on the edge of the lounger, his boardies around his ankles, Andrew pulled me towards him by my butt and started to suck my cock, taking it easily down his throat. Fuck I moaned loudly as I enjoyed the blowjob while taking a few hits of the poppers and feeling the headrush wash over me.
After a while he stopped, kicked his boardies off his feet, swung his legs back onto the lounger, and rolled a condom down over his cock. He lubed up his sheathed rod and squirted some of the clear fluid in my palm. I stradded the lounger facing him as I took another couple of hits while squatting slightly to smear the lube through my hairy sweaty crack and over my hole, pushing a finger up inside myself. Then I deepened my squat slowly as Andrew kept his cock pointing up; with my lubed hand I reached back and felt for it, guiding the head until it was at the entrance to my slick cunt. I was nervous because he hadn't prepped my asshole, but I'd had a good go on the poppers and I found it easier to let a cock in when I was on top. Taking another deep hit, I bore down with my ab muscles like I was taking a dump at exactly the moment I lowered myself another inch and the fat cockhead popped through my flaring ring. I gasped and winced and took yet another hit before Andrew gently took the bottle off me, recapped it and put it under the lounger. Resting his hands on my thighs, he applied gentle but firm pressure as I sank down, his cock sliding in inch by inch as I breathed through that deep stabbing ache of anal penetration, until I was sitting on his pubes and his solid schlong was deep up into my rectum. My cock had deflated to a semi initially, but now I'd taken him all in and was relaxing, it pulsed back to full leaking hardness as the pain receded and the feeling of fullness became intensely pleasurable. Then I slowly began to ride, working my hairy muscular thighs as I moved myself up and down, my bare feet planted solidly in the grass. Andrew put both hands behind his head and just watched, smiling and sighing, as I fucked myself on him. I started to move faster and faster as incredible feelings began to radiate from my guts and I started to moan as my cock slapped my abs, flicking strands of cocksnot onto Andrew's hard hairy belly. He became more active, playing with my nips before gripping my glutes and spreading them as wide as possible to get his dick in deeper as he planted his bare feet on the grass next to mine and took over the motion, fucking up into me hard. I gripped the back of the lounger behind his head and leaned in, the underside of my cock rubbing his stomach with each hard thrust. Suddenly, it was like a bomb went off in my ass as shockwaves ran through my muscles and my cock spat jets of cum out, hitting Andrew's chin and lashing his chest and belly - the wide-eyed look of surpise on his face quickly cycling through amazement and pleasure as he milked my prostate with his penis, giving me my first ever hands free assgasm (albeit assisted by the friction of his hairy belly on my prick).
He allowed things to slow down so I could recover, pulling me in for a deep kiss, before he gently moved me off him, allowing his sheathed hardon to slide out of me with an audible "pop". He stood, got behind me, bent me over the lounger at the waist, and pushed back up into my ass-cunt. Gripping my hips he proceeded to bang me hard from behind, my load oozing down the front of his body, until my dripping cock jerked back to full rigidity. At last, breathing hard as the pace accelerated to bunny-fucking, he pulled out and pushed me to my knees, facing him. He tugged off the rubber and wanked furiously until he splashed my face and chest with his load as I wanked my second dose of jizz out onto the grass between his bare feet.
Smiling, breathing hard, Andrew pulled me to my feet and without warning gave me a hard shove, sending me staggering back and falling into the pool with a splash. He jumped in as I surfaced, laughing, and we rubbed our bodies to sluice off the cum, lube and sweat. I untied my short ponytail, slipping the elastic band over my wrist, so I could rinse my long sweaty hair and let it dry more easily. As Andrew floated naked around the pool, I climbed out and finished the rest of the job in the buff as I dried off in the sun.
Andrew paid me for a few more fucks over the next several months, until one day I turned up to do the pool and he had another girlfriend there. Though I kept him as a pool cleaning client until I finished uni - and he did start tipping me over-generously - he never paid me for sex again. After a year or so he got engaged to that girl and she'd popped out their first kid by the time I graduated.
Andrew's words stuck with me though. "Why not get paid for something yer gonna do anyway? Besides, we're all whores Dave, in one way or another." Nosing around online, I started to realise how many young people were doing casual sex work to fund uni or supplement their jobs. I mean, sure, for many people it was a hard choice or not a choice at all, and it was about drug habits, coercion and so on. But there was a subset of sex workers who were just students and even young professionals who posted online profiles, or agreed a cash exchange when they met hookups in bars and clubs, or gave semi-professional massages with a "happy ending". It was rife. I lived at home with my parents so was somewhat circumscribed in what I could do, but I needed more pocket cash than cleaning some pools could provide. My argument:
- If you are liberal, open-minded and sex-positive; - If you are gay, bi or at least hetero-flexible; - You are reasonably attractive; - You love sex and you'd be hooking up with strangers anyway; - You have a reasonable level of risk tolerance; - You need money.
I mean, why wouldn't you? The more I thought about it, the more I realised I gave zero fucks. Yeah yeah, sex could be a beautiful expression of love blah blah blah. It could also be pure recreation and a way to earn money. You can whore your manual labour, your skills and intellect, or your dick and ass - what's the difference? I wasn't religious and just didn't buy into all of those religious and cultural hangups about sex.
So I'm not saying I became a professional male prostitute. I am saying I found myself with many opportunities to have sex in exchange for cash over the years, and I usually took those opportunities if the risks were worth it at the time. Though, my pool boy job didn't yield any more takers after Andrew, apart from a bored housewife I allowed to seduce me a couple of years later. She didn't pay me for the sex directly, but she sure did start tipping a lot...
As promised, this is a true account of my experience as I remember it. Obviously I can't remember every word of dialogue, names are different and I've porned-up the descriptions, but only slightly. More to come! I'd love to hear what you think of it, so email me if you want at davexander30@gmail.com