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Paul Stevenson was a bitch. In most senses of that term. He was a wealthy 45year old owner and manager of a hotel and a social media contrarian celebrity, with all the vacuous, pathetic glory that term implies. A stout, balding man with little natural charm and even sex appeal. But wealth and petty celebrity had afforded him plenty of opportunity to indulge his lusts. He was moreover, an asshole of a manger. He employed young, typically Slavic guys cheap, and treated them like dirt. That was apart from the times he got them to satiate his revolting fantasies. He liked Slavic twinks perhaps because he had grown up busting his nut to Czech twink porn. Now that he was in a position to acquire the real thing , he gorgerd himself. Of course, these fine young hotties wouldn't have pissed on him had he not been their wealthy and abusive employer. But he was. And so they did. Literally.
Yep. Paul was a raunch fan. When work was done he would retreat to his own penthouse suite in the hotel, sometimes with one or two of his similarly depraved friends -- all fat, unattractive middle aged dudes like himself, don't his latex thong and boots, crack open some poppers, and have one of his gorgeous employee lads humiliate him for his kicks.
He liked nothing better than to have some hot Russian, Czech or Ukrainian 19/20 year old make him crawl and beg, lash him, fart in his face, piss on him and finally squat from his creamy young slavic boyhole right down on his face as he whacked off his diminutive 45year old dong. The lads of course managed to gain some satisfaction for themselves out of this gross spectacle. As I say, he was a bitch of an employer. They enjoyed seeing this irritating petty tyrant out of his suit in a thong and boots with a doggy butt-plug moaning and wailing as they slapped his ugly aging body around. Next morning, it would be back to the usual regime of Paul in charge and they his overworked, underpaid servants. Then Sergei came. Sergei was different.
Sergei was 20 and from Rostov. He was a exceptionally hot jock, the image of the young Josh Hartnett. He was also not one to allow himself to be so abused without coming out very much on top. Paul of course put him through his usual gauntlet of threatened firing or succumbing to his unsavoury sexual escapades. Sergei went along. One such night, Sergei was performing. His gorgeous white, muscular young body was decked in latex shorts and boots, wielding a riding-crop. Paul as usual was on all fours, butt plug, leash etc, begging for Sergei to let him get a whiff of his fine young asshole. Sergei teased Paul, waving his fat 20year old schlong right in front of Paul's lips sand administering stinging cracks of the riding-crop when Paul's sweaty pink chubby face got too near.
"so pig! You want some of this hot Russian cock or maybe my asshole? How you think a pathetic bald orc like you deserve this?!" This was par course for Paul. He expected all his unfortunate underlings to play this role in his degenerate games. Paul wailed as Sergei again smacked him across the face. " yeah boy! Piggy wants that cock and ass. Let me have some "
"well then pig, open wide" Sergei slid off the table he had been sitting on leg's splayed for Paul to worship his superior young man-meat, and swung around, presenting Paul with his pert 20year old butt-cheeks and pucker. Paul lunged in. As he was engaged thus, Sergei flicked on the iPhone he had concealed in his jocks and began to film Paul noisily munching his crack. Paul was in ecstasy, slobbering and tonguing the sweet Russian lad's arsehole and again gloating to himself over his good fortune to be a pathetic old perv with money and a serious lack of ethics. Then the click and Sergei's mocking laughter brought Paul's eyes open and out of that musky jock-hole to regard with mounting horror the iPhone screen Sergei was presenting him with.
"What you think? I'm thinking of calling it `Paul, the Gallant Pig'. Should be good pr for this overpriced dump of yours, no?"
Paul was seriously sweating now. The lad could ruin his business, his life, his future opportunity to get any hot young hole again.
"well, no sweat orc. You just follow my orders from now on and give me and the lads the perks we deserve -- of which I'll be presenting you with in an exhaustive list tomorrow morning -- and we can keep this affair all to ourselves"
Paul could do nothing but comply.
" and since piggy has been wanting this but probably too chicken shit to ask, Im gonna give it what in really craves. Open up!"
With that the young Josh Hartnett lookalike from Rostov delivered a steaming dump into Paul's waiting mouth.
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