Disclaimer: Adult Readers Only! Minors Stay Away! Same-Sex, S/M, Themes MotorCycle Hustling 2 by jared
Damn, why is gas so fucking expensive? 15.00 bucks doesn't go very far these days. Oh well, such is the harsh economics of the new world order, too bad I never met an economist that rides a motorcycle. If he did, he would probably have a change of heart and crash in on his econ-talk-bullshit meetings with a frightening power. Imagine seeing shiny chrome exhaust pipes a black leather seat, monster tires and loud engine ripping through the meeting's office window,the economist dressed in a sharp suit and briefcase on the back would just bellow "Long Live Bikers Who Run Over The Rich!" The motorcycle would blow all the paper reports, charts, stock quotes of how great the economy is doing and the other corporate people, would shirk away in fear, as the Massive Bike skids to a stop on the wide long conference table, Then the corporate people would be stripped and dressed in leather chains, and be ordered to washed the Bike gang's two wheel trophies....
Well my quick fanto-fling gets interrupted by my beeper, work time--a client, it is Jason, he wants a blow job and wants to spank me, probably because he is upset that I borrowed his walkman and never returned it. Also, he's having mid terms, so he probably wants to get out some agression, getting spanked by him, is such a pleasure, he's a real master, delicate yet firm, kind, yet harsh and he always makes me proud to be a guy. My favorite part is sucking him, he deserves a nice suck to relieve his pressured student life. He also gives me advice, about the upper class, and how to treat them and respect them, and in turn they will leave you alone, and will also be nice to you. Jason is my best client, maybe because he understands and respects my hustling. He pays well, about 150$ sometime more, I am more than jsut a hustler with him, I am like his brother, mainly because we are the same age. He has taught me so many wonderful things, how to put on a tie, how to french kiss, how to manage money, and how to dress, respectably. He laughs at my cheap clothes, but he likes me in them anyway, he wears nothing but the best in everything. I am his slave, when I come over, he likes it when I call him sir, and when I do chores for him. He's going to be a beautiful well groomed adult, the kind that likes to look down at losers like me, he will be going places, I see him as a soldier, or corporate boy making, lots in the new economy. He will probably forget me, or at least make me his house boy, when he needs one. We like each other, mainly because he understands, I am lower on the human social spectrum, and he is on the upper, although he will never admit it, he envies me, because I have so much "freedom" and I envy him, because of his beauty and wealth. He enjoys the motorcycle ride, alot and he's offered to buy it from me, in joking of course. He couldn't pay me enough. He jokes sometimes how rich he is, not be rude, but to entice me to become like him. He's offered to help me take classes, and educate me, and dress me in better clothes, I admit it sounds so tempting, but I am a hustler, a boy that makes men comfortable, it my status in society. I am good at what I do, sex is a profession for me. Some people would laugh at my making a living off hustling, as immoral,but I don't believe the rigid morals that get imposed upon people, have to be be so strict, they must be flexible. I make more money, hustling than I would a minimum wage job. I pay by debt to society. As far as the law goes, I have been arrested once by a cop, who let me go after a nice blow job. He was fucking so handsome and masculine, he felt sorry for arresting me afterwards, being really rude and rough, I laughed and told him, how much his style was a turn on for me. He let me go, and wished me good luck. I moved from that city since.
I arrived at Jason's house, and take off my helmet go inside. Jason is at his desk writing, and he motions me to put my jacket and helmet on the small chair across the room. His room is typical of a jock, sports poster, dirty clothes, rumbled bed sheets, his wrestling trophies, and his books, one of which was "New Management styles for the 21 Century". He has some porn mags, buried under a pizza box, empty and crushed. He looks like a tortured jock boy, trying to write his essay, for class. "May I offer a suggestion Sir?" I say assuming my positon as his boy. "No thanks, boy, I think I have it." He put his pen down and put away his things and turns around and hugs me. After he brings me into a another room a well, kept living room. He is a bit taller than me, and thin, he looks like a SS officer, my fanto-fling image, his blonde hair and blue eyes, and taunt Germanic face, he offered me a cigarette. I sat opposite of him, and watched him loosen his black tie and unbutton his white crisp shirt. He has on a very niced tan dress pants, and brown shiny dress shoes, as he just got back from his job as a desk receptionist at a law firm. It is funny how different we dress. I smoke my cigarette and then make some ice tea from his small apartment kitchen. He likes ice tea, and he enjoys when I serve it. After we drink, I put the glasses on the tray, and I begin, to unloosen his tie and drape it over the couch. He enjoys very much me undressing him as if I were his, male attendant, I admit, I do to. I have always been a fan of the squire and the knight, idea, where a knight has a young page helping him with is gear and his horse. Back in the days stable boys were good, hustlers, not with the horses but with the riders. As I undress him with erotic effort, my mind spins a fanto-fling with him........
Stay tuned for the rest, thanks.