The last few years had been hard ones for Josh. Most of his difficulties had been of his own making. He was a child of privilege: well-to-do parents, expensive private schools and universities, and a trust fund. During his college years, he met "the man of my dreams" as he had described Gil. Dark, curly haired, tall, on a premedical track, "with a huge wiener," again, according to Josh. They moved in together right after college. Gil had been accepted to a medical school in the area, and began his studies, while Josh became, essentially, a "trust fund baby." Medical school means a lot of long days and nights for students, and many days and nights that significant others spend alone. Instead of doing volunteer work, or taking an unpaid job, or something productive, Josh stayed home and drank. He drank a lot. And then he'd go out and shoplift "for kicks." He got caught once, and the judge suspended any sentence because he was a first-time offender, and the theft wasn't very large: a bottle of cheap vodka. The second time he got caught, he had a pair of leather gloves hidden in his jacket. When he sat down with his father, and his father's lawyer, his father kept on asking the same question: "Joshua, how many pair of gloves do you OWN?" Josh couldn't look at his father. He just cried and apologized. He promised never to do it again. The attorney, well known at the courthouse, pulled some strings, and there was another suspension, and two months of community service. It was while he was doing community service that he met Stewart. Stewart was the vice president of some department at the not for profit where Josh was assigned -- he didn't remember which one. One day, Stewart called Josh into his office and told him to close the door. Josh thought he was in trouble. He was. Stewart stood up from behind his desk. His zipper was down, and his cock was out. "A pretty boy like you is probably a very good cocksucker. Let's see." Josh was shocked. He was faithful to Gil, who also liked blowjobs when he had time. "Stewart, I can't do this. I'm in a relationship." "AND you're on parole. Trust me Josh. I have a great deal of experience in finding parole violations. You'd really rather not make me do that. Now get on your knees. You won't regret it." Stewart smiled as Josh got on his knees and took his dick. It was a big one, and while he was sucking, Josh found that he was getting a hard-on. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that he was sucking Gil, but it wasn't Gil in front of him: the body was wrong, and he couldn't see the face. (The prison psychiatrist explained to Josh that this was probably the start of sex addiction, or at least sex compulsion). "YEAH! SUCK THAT JUICE." Stewart was pumping cum into Josh's mouth and down his throat. When he was done, he closed his pants and told Josh to "get the fuck out of my office but come back at the same time in two days." As he left, Josh saw the picture of Stewart, his wife, and his three kids. He called Gil and got his voice mail. He texted him. "Curly, give me a call when you can, please. Something happened that wasn't good." "Curly" was his nickname for Gil, who had very curly pubic and chest hair too. When he saw the text message, he thought it was Josh being melodramatic and he wrote back. "Can't today, love. Serious anatomy dissection. Love you." When he got home that night, Gil didn't find Josh. That's because when Josh got home, he drank a bottle of cheap vodka that he had paid for, decided to look for Gil, and cracked up the car. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but this time, there was nothing that his father, his father's lawyer, or anyone could do. It was all property damage, but when the smoke cleared, Josh was sentenced to 8 months in jail. While he was in jail, he became well known as "the cell block slut," almost always taking cock in his mouth or his ass, but occasionally topping for the newer, more frightened inmates. And it was during that 8 months that Gil moved out. He paid the rent until Josh got out and came back, but he took most of the furniture (which was his anyway), their two dogs, and pretty much anything that they had of value. Josh cried for three days. When he called his parents, they were cool to him. They offered to pay for rehab, which he declined. "But why can't you just give me the money you'd spend on rehab, mom?" He asked. "What about your trust fund?" Josh didn't want to admit that it was spent, but it eventually came out. "THAT'S why we're not giving you the money. Maybe if you have to live poor, you'll learn a little respect for yourself." Josh cried for another day. Then, he thought about what he might be able to do. His record was going to make getting a job difficult, if not impossible. He had no money, and rent would be due, and soon. He thought about what he knew how to do well, and what he liked. Then he looked in his closet, put on the tightest sexiest outfit he could find, and headed to the nearest hooker bar. He became very popular. Part of it was his looks: the curly blond hair, the bright blue eyes, the smile. Another part of it was that from his time in prison, he had learned how to do just about anything sexual you could think of. And finally, he could do it from top or bottom. He made his rent. He made more than his rent. Soon, he had replaced the missing furniture, and decided that a nicer apartment was in order, so he could do "in" calls as well as "out" calls. Since "whoring" as his buddy Max called it was unpredictable, he also took a menial job at a warehouse, loading and unloading trucks. He DID learn something from school, and he budgeted. He lived on his salary and half of what he made from escorting. The other half went into a savings account "for when I get old, like 35 or something," he'd joke. He was 28. Josh had just finished servicing a john the night he met Malcolm. He was in one of his sexiest outfits: a black leather jacket, faded jeans, and a tight white t-shirt. The john had requested "James Dean street punk crossed with an angel," and Josh had done well. In addition to his fee, the guy had tipped him 200.00, and asked if they could have another session. Josh had a spreadsheet that he didn't have access to, so he asked the guy to text him, and he'd get back to him. And he would: one thing that made Josh very popular around clients was his attentiveness: he didn't show up late, he showed up, period, and he always seemed "into" what he was doing, and that was because he was. He found that, physically, most days he could turn two tricks, maybe three, but mentally, he could have sex all day. He was ALWAYS hard. If he bottomed for one john, he wanted to top the next one. And so on. In any event, given the tip, he decided to treat himself to a drink at a "nice" bar, rather than one that catered to hustlers and their clients. He knew one not far from where the john lived, and he headed there. It wasn't terribly busy, and he got a seat at the bar. He didn't know anyone who was there, and he nursed an IPA while he chatted with the bartender, whom he found very sexy. That's when Malcolm walked in. Malcolm had just closed a very big real estate deal, and the commission was going to be in the five figures. "Par for the course," he would think, because Malcolm only worked at the high end of the real estate market, and a five-figure commission was standard. This one, however, was closer to six figures than five, which was not standard. He, too, decided to celebrate and walked into the same bar Josh had gone into. Malcolm was a regular there. Josh didn't see him greet any of the "regulars," nor did he see Malcolm stop and stare at Josh from behind. "Great build," he thought, which was true. Josh worked out every day and ran most. "If his face is as pretty as his hair, I'm taking that boy home with me tonight," he thought, as he approached the bar and took the seat next to Josh. "How's it going?" he smiled and asked Josh before turning to the bartender. "Henri, my usual, and please bring my new friend a refill." He smiled, and held out his hand to Josh. "I'm Malcolm." Josh knew the game. He knew it well, and he was done for the night. "Thank you, but I'm finished drinking for tonight." He turned to Henri and shook his head no. "Not even a soda, or a sparkling water?" "Nothing. I'm off the clock you could say." Malcolm looked at Josh, puzzled. Henri brought him his drink. He had his jacket thrown on his knees, and Josh saw the biceps ripple as he picked up the rye. Josh thought to himself "he may be one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen, but..." "You're cute when you pretend to be confused Malcolm." "I'm not pretending. I'm confused. Off the clock? Then you should be able to drink." "You're right, I should. But not when the drink is supposed to lead to something else. Like I said, I'm off the clock. And I can't be bought with a drink." Malcolm had no idea where the defensiveness was coming from. Later, he'd find out that Josh thought two things. First, that Malcolm was better looking than he was, and he was jealous, and second, he represented everything Josh had lost. "Bought? Huh?" "OK, how about RENTED. Does that make it clearer? I'm a HO pretty boy. And I'm finished for the night." Malcolm laughed. He finished up his drink. "You wanna know the last time I paid for sex, blondie? NEVER. And I never will. And you know what? You're pretty but you're not pretty enough to pull off THAT kind of attitude. GO TO HELL." He put down a 20 for Henri, got his jacket, and walked out. Josh snorted. "Well-played. NOT," Henri came over. "Who the hell asked for your opinion, bud?" "No one, but you know, kid? Malcolm is a good guy. He's right. He's never used a hooker in his life. Or at least as long as I've known him and that's 5 or 6 years. Did you notice the younger ones looking at him as he stormed out?" "Yeah. So?" "EVERYONE wants to go home with Malcolm. Even if it's just to see his apartment. Trust me, young man. You passed up something you shouldn't have. And the two of you would've looked real good together." Just then, a guy who reminded him of Stewart sat down next to him. "That guy try to haggle? I wouldn't haggle. And I've got five hard inches for you." Josh laughed. "Come back when you grow up." He put down his drink and went out onto the street. He doubted that he'd see Malcolm, but it was worth a try. He didn't see him, but then he heard his voice. "Well, maybe tonight was the wrong choice. Maybe a drink was, I don't know. Maybe I said something stupid. I do, a lot. Maybe this is stupid. Can I buy you dinner tomorrow? Or soon?" Josh turned around and saw Malcolm. He looked even better now than he had the first time. "Please don't apologize. It's my bad. I was just in a mood, I don' t know. I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Josh." "Nice to meet you Josh," Malcolm held out his hand and when he did, Josh saw he was wearing a Rolex on his wrist. "So, let me understand something, Mal, you DIDN'T know I was an escort, and you weren't looking for sex?" If it hadn't been dark, Josh would have seen Malcolm blush. He took a minute to answer. "Well, to be honest, it depends on how you define sex. I was thinking a kiss or two tonight would be nice, but taking you home? No, that wasn't in the cards. Nor was going behind the bushes. Not until we knew each other better anyway." He paused. "Look, Josh, this isn't really going well, I just thought you were awfully attractive: the most attractive guy I've seen in a long time, and I thought I'd give it a chance." He shrugged his shoulders. "That's it. So, if you'll have dinner with me, maybe we'll see if you're out of my league or not, and if you are, well, a good meal is a good meal." He sounded so sincere, and Josh hadn't been on a "date date" since he'd been out of jail. "Mal, you have to understand. I'm REAL new at this." Malcolm laughed. "No, no, what I mean is the dating part. The sex part I've got down. But..." He paused. "Look, I was gonna save this, but I'll tell you right up front. I spent time in prison. I've not been out that long, and it's been a struggle. Dating hasn't been at the top of my list of `things to do'. But, if you'll be patient, I'd love to have dinner with you." Josh swallowed a bit of a lump in his throat. "You telling me I'm attractive? That's usually an invitation for me to raise my rates. But...I accept it. Thank you. " Malcolm smiled. "Tell you what, Josh? You make the first move. Here's my card. You call me when you're ready. We'll make this work. That sound good to you?" "It does. It sounds perfect." "Great. I'll wait to hear from you, but two things. First, I HATE being called Mal. Second... can I have that kiss anyway?" Josh began to think about how this guy wanted to kiss him after all of that. "Sure." He moved in and Malcolm stopped him. "Nope. I'm the one working tonight." He held Josh back, and he walked in and pressed his lips to Josh's. "Want more?" Josh whispered. "Yeah," came the response, and Josh opened up his mouth to take Malcolm's tongue. "I want more of that," Malcolm said. "And maybe you'll get it if the food is good," Josh quipped. "I'll wait for your call, Josh."
Xxxxxxxx
"Hey, it's Josh, from the other night," Josh was more nervous than he had been the first time he went out "on the job." "Hi Josh. I'm glad you called back. Any chance of maybe sharing a bite?" No one enjoyed double entendre more than Josh did, and he liked how quickly Malcolm had come up with the comment. Normally, "Mr. Smarty Pants" as some of his friends called him, would have had an equally quick response. Not today. "I hope this works for you, Malcolm. I wish I could put it a better way, but you know what I do and, well, I'm booked until Sunday." "Hmm. I guess you're on your knees for something different on Sunday." That made Josh laugh. "Very funny, but no, on Sundays I'm usually NOT on my knees." "We'll see about that," came Malcolm's answer, and NOW Josh was ready. "On Sundays I'm on my back." "No one could say you beat around the bush, Josh," then he continued "Ok, enough of this silliness. We'll save it for when we meet. Does 7pm work for you?" "It does. Where should I meet you?" "Well, how about I keep the restaurant a surprise and I either drive by and pick you up, or we can meet in front of the bar where we met. I'd be happy to drive you back home after dinner." Josh thought "well, so much for THOSE thoughts. Oh, well, it's a first date." He answered "Yeah that sounds great. How fancy should I dress?" "Casual. Jeans are ok if they're not sloppy ones, and if they show off your ass." When Josh paused Malcolm raised his voice. "I'M JUST KIDDING ABOUT THE LAST PART, JOSH. Well, not really." It was then that Josh began to feel his cock stir.
"I understand, you get to learn the code in this business." "I'm sure you do. Listen sunflower, I have to get back to the grind here, but I'll be by on Sunday. I'm looking forward to it." Josh's best friend was a guy named Cory. Cory was an escort too, and if a client was looking for two rather than one, they usually worked together. They worked out together and they were on adjoining treadmills when Josh told Cory about what had happened recently. "And then he called me Sunflower. SUNFLOWER. That's what Gil called me when we first met." Cory had a very analytical mind, and he kept up with events much more than Josh did. "You said his name was Malcolm, and you think he works in real estate?" "Yeah. Commercial real estate." "Josh, I think you're talking about Malcolm Flagg. When we finish, let's go google him." Josh laughed. "Now, I was planning to do a few things to him, but that wasn't on the agenda." "No, Josh, I'm serious. If he's who I think he is, you may have landed a very big fish." They finished their workouts, and then went to a local internet café and got on-line. Cory pulled up photos of Malcolm Flagg. "YUP. THAT'S HIM. OH MY GOD." "Is he as good looking in person as the photos, Josh?" "BETTER. OH, WOW. Wait, what's this article?" They looked at a short piece about Malcolm's net worth, and then another piece "Parents and their gay children," but then, they got to the stuff that Cory had remembered. "I didn't know he was single. He was dating... what's the guy's name?" He put more information into the search box and pulled up photos of Malcolm with a very attractive blond, blue-eyed guy. "Well, I guess we know he has a type," Josh observed. Cory looked at him and put in some more search words. "YEAH. This is the shot I remember." It was a photo from one of the gay tabloids: there was Malcolm, with a fake moustache and wearing leather, leading that blond guy by a leash at one of the BDSM clubs in the city. Cory looked at Josh but didn't say anything. He saw that Josh had moved his hand to his crotch. Josh had given Malcolm his address, so that he could come by Josh's place to pick him up. He had anguished, for hours, over what kind of look he wanted to project. He tried on outfits, deemed them "too slutty," or "too prudish," or "too girly," and finally settled on a pair of jeans that always got "the dogs in the yard" to look, a light colored, trim cut twill button down with contrasting buttons, and his leather jacket.
When Malcolm drove up, he beeped his horn, stopped the car, and jumped out. "OH SHIT he just gets better and better looking," Josh thought as Malcolm came over. He had a big smile on his face. "You mind, sunny?" He leaned in and kissed Josh. Josh didn't mind at all. Malcolm held the kiss and then stood back, and grinned. "I better stop because if I don't, I'm gonna ask you to take me inside and we're never gonna get dinner." Josh just laughed. He had been hungry, but when Malcolm said that he began to lose his appetite... for food. He just laughed. "I love your sweater. Green is a good color for you." Malcolm had on a dark, forest green cashmere crewneck. Josh could see a brown shirt underneath. He was wearing jeans too, and they looked like they were painted on him. That first night, it had been too dark for Josh to see Malcolm's package. He wasn't disappointed. "So, let's go, ok? GOD I've been nervous about meeting up with you since the bar. You still good with this?" "Oh, sure. I'm sorry if I make you nervous. For what it's worth, I'm nervous too." Malcolm began to laugh. "YOU? Nervous? You pulling my leg?" "Hell no. This is my first date in, geez, I don't know how many years?" "You're kidding?" The gay public is letting you get away?" "Well, I like to tell myself that I'm being selective." "Then, I'm honored. They took off. The "restaurant" was actually a private club. Josh had been inside clubs like this before, but not this one. "I hope you like French food," Malcolm spoke, as they went in. "Almost as much as I like Frenching," Josh said and immediately reddened. It was the WRONG thing to say, he was sure. "Well, I'm glad you have your priorities right. Frenching beats French any day." It was Malcolm's club. He clearly hadn't been there in a while, and many of the waiters and the maître d' came over to greet him. He introduced Josh to the maître d: "Cedric, this is my friend Josh. He'll be my guest tonight." Cedric smiled and held out his hand "So nice to meet you Josh." Josh answered him in French. He and Cedric spoke for a few minutes and Malcolm just beamed. "Well, THAT was impressive. I didn't know you spoke French." "Ah, not really all that well. I had a year abroad in college. Lived on baguettes, cheese, and red wine. I didn't learn much else but language." Malcolm was going to say something but didn't. "So, if you speak it, why don't your order for us?" As he handed Josh the menu, Malcolm thought "let him have SOME control, kid. You'll be driving soon." "So, Josh, I'm going to make a provocative statement. I'm really good at that. I'm going to say something about the vibe I get from you. You come across as a thoroughbred. No question about it, that's part of what attracted me to you, but...I think that's a little bit fake. I think you're really more a wild stallion than a thoroughbred." He looked directly at Josh. "I love challenges." "Because wild stallions need to be broken and tamed," Josh answered, but began to stiffen up. He remembered the photo. Where was this going to go? "There's a difference between need and want, Josh. You know that. And I think you WANT to be tamed." Josh laughed while he was thinking "how the hell did this guy figure me out so fast?" Malcolm squeezed Josh's thigh for a minute and then smiled. "I swear, it's just to take a leak, but I need the bathroom. Don't go running away." When he went off, Cedric came over. He spoke to Josh in French and asked if everything was to his liking. Josh assured him that it was, and then Cedric looked serious. "I'm not young, Josh. I've taken care of Monsieur Malcolm's grandfather in his old age, his father, and now Malcolm. He's brought a lot of men through here, and most of them, I have not approved. "Josh felt his blood getting a little colder and a little thicker. "And me?" Cedric smiled. "I get a very good feeling about you, Josh. I should call you Joshua, I think. And I think you will be very good for Monsieur Malcolm. I just ask that you do not hurt him." He made a wry face and gestured with his head to a bartender. "You are very well known in some circles, Joshua. Patrick has used your services in the past. He alerted me when you came in." "Cedric, please. I'm not...Malcolm isn't paying for my time. I WANTED to go out with him and...." Cedric held up a hand. "Whether he is paying or not is irrelevant to me, Joshua. I simply ask that you do not hurt him. Malcolm may spend his money any way he wishes: it is his. But I can't really explain this, Monsieur Joshua, but his heart is something that belongs to ALL of us, and I do not want to see it broken again." Josh was going to ask what Cedric meant, but then Malcolm was back. "Hey, you two talking about me?" "Actually, we were," Joshua smiled. "Cedric told me that usually you're the handsomest guy in the room but tonight you take second place." By now, Josh should have known that Malcolm was every bit as quick as he was. "Cedric is very smart. You're right about that Monsieur." He reached for Josh's hand and squeezed it. "Should we head out?" Malcolm had parked about five minutes away from the club, and as they walked, Josh slipped his arm through Malcolm's. "That was very lovely. Thank you." Malcolm stopped. "No, thank YOU, Josh. My wild stallion." Josh felt Malcolm's hand behind his head, rubbing his neck. He didn't ask when he pressed his lips against Josh, and this time he didn't wait for Josh to open his mouth. His other hand moved down to Josh's ass, and his knee rubbed up against Josh's crotch. "I want to see you again, Josh. You think that's possible?" "I think you can see me as often as you like, Monsieur Malcolm."
Malcolm smiled as this time, Josh moved in and took his tongue. "I should get you home, Josh, otherwise...I'm going to drive you to my place and, well, I can't be held responsible for what I do if I take you home with me." "Take me home with you, Malcolm." Malcolm smiled. "Not tonight. You have another job, right? I'd rather you not miss that one, but maybe, just maybe, you could check your schedule for another night you're available." "I'll do that." He felt Malcolm stroking his hair and then he felt his mouth over his ear. "You are just so goddamn beautiful, Josh. It's unfair." In the car, Josh had a thought. "You know, this is forward of me but, maybe you'd like to stay over at my place? I can get to work from there tomorrow without a lift and, well, it's just an idea." Malcolm let go of the wheel of the car with one hand and took one of Josh's. He moved it to his own crotch. "That answer your question?" "You can start breaking your wild stallion, Malcolm." "I'll get my bit and lead." Josh laughed and Malcolm focused ahead on the road. "Yeah, I'm sure you found the photos. I'm into that kind of stuff. Not on the first date, probably not on the second, but if we get further along, just know..." Josh moved over to be closer to Malcolm. "I know how to say Sir during sex, Malcolm. And I've been tied up before. And I'm a damn good bottom if I do say so myself." "Well, maybe I can find parking and I'll find out for myself. " He did, and he did.