Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N-First, thank YOU to everyone that read, reviewed and voted for M&A in the Slash/Back Slash contest. Needless to say, I am shocked and amazed and honored that our little story came in second place among such prestigious company. Congratulations to everyone in the contest.
As of right now, all Jpov chapters will be written by me, and Epov will be expertly handled by Dannie (Domward's Mistress). All chapters will be posted on both of our profiles.
More A/N at the end.
Follow the Yellow Brick Road…
I shifted uncomfortably.
The expensive shirt felt unfamiliar against my skin.
I was used to dirty threadbare tee shirts, not fucking Italian cotton button downs with labels of designers I couldn't even pronounce sewn into their collars.
I mean who the fuck was Armani anyway, and why were her clothes so fucking expensive?
Facing the mirror, I watched my hands do up the pearl buttons, pleased with the way the blue stripes matched my eyes.
Maybe Armani wasn't such a bitch after all.
Next, I reached for the jacket, sliding my arms through the pure silk-lined sleeves, actually almost aroused at sensation of the smooth material.
I ran my hands over the jacket, absently thinking perhaps it was too hot for wool. While the temperature outside was most certainly cool enough, as Seattle never had the dry heat I was accustomed to, my nerves had my body running a bit hotter than usual and I was certain the wool would make me sweat in no time.
Twisting my body, I admired the tailored cut of the suit, the navy wool hung perfectly on my shoulders only to hug my waist, and the pants showed off my ass with expensive flair as they curved over my round flesh.
Besides my cock, my ass was my money maker.
Checking the clock, I mumbled a few obscenities and headed for the door. After taking the elevator, I entered the lobby and walked toward the door.
"Have a good evening, Mr. Whitlock," the doorman greeted as he held the heavy gold trimmed door open for me.
"Thanks…." I mumbled. I would have call him by his name if I had fucking remembered it.
Part of me hoped the long black Lincoln wouldn't be there, but as I glanced down the street, I spotted it parked at the corner.
Leaning against it was an older man dressed in a black suit complete with tie and fucking black hat. He was tall and thin and had the fucking palest skin I had ever seen, I swear it was translucent. Gray tufts of hair poked out from under his hat as he folded his newspaper and waved me over.
Who the hell read newspapers since the invention of the internet anyway?
Opening the back door of the car, he nodded to me as I slid into the backseat. Surrounded by soft black leather, the car smelled…wealthy. Unable to sit still, my body practically jumping with nerves, I quickly glanced around. It was a habit of mine to take in my surroundings, to see what could be useful if things went south…which had happened more than I cared to remember.
It was amazing what could be used as a weapon when you were creative enough.
I didn't know Mr. Magoo, or where the fuck he was taking me, but I relied on my gut, the one so queasy with nerves I had dry heaved three times since showering.
"You have one client tonight, Mr. Whitlock. A Mr. Peter Carlson." Pausing, I think he waited for my reply, but I had none. Instead, I swallowed the bile that had risen in my mouth, the acidic taste coating my throat. When I didn't respond, he glanced at me on the rearview mirror. "I will be waiting for you outside the building. If you need me for any reason, call. You do have the Blackberry she gave you, right?"
Finally responding to him, I nodded.
The rest of the ride was spent in a welcomed silence. The lights and sounds of the city danced past the car as he weaved in and out of traffic. Leaning my head against the cool glass of the window, I let my mind drift to what had led me there, in the back of a Lincoln dressed in a suit that cost more than a month of working on the streets.
Exactly two weeks ago that day I had been leaning against a cold brick wall, my thin tee shirt and dirty jeans doing little to ward off the cold breeze as it chilled my already frozen body when she approached me. She was attractive enough, I guess, her suit hugged her womanly curves, long legs supported her tall frame and brilliant red waves fell below her shoulders. With a warm smile, she held out her hand and introduced herself as Tayna.
That was different. Most of my johns never gave me a name, at least, not their real one. While I was gay, I was also a hooker, and I needed money, and sometimes that meant fucking women.
It was rare and not all together horrible.
If I closed my eyes and used my imagination, I could even manage to get off, grunting into their naked breasts as I shot my load inside them.
However, even I had standards.
Just as I was about to give her the price, I charged more for women, she asked if she could treat me to a cup of coffee. Shocked, I stood there speechless and she chuckled.
"I don't want to fuck you, I want to hire you."
"Isn't the same thing?" I pushed off the building, looking to my right to check for a cop car. This woman was so obviously Vice. "Listen, thanks for the offer, but really, I'm just waiting for a friend."
"Sure you are," she smirked. "Look, I don't want to be your friend, but I think we might be able to help each other out. Just one cup, if you don't like my offer, you are free to go," she insisted, and who was I to refuse a free hot cup of Joe. Perhaps she would even splurge and get me a muffin too. I bet with those manicured nails and diamond rings she could afford it. After three days of nothing but dry toast, I was pretty fucking hungry.
I admit I was curious to hear what kind of offer she had. And we all know what curiosity did to the cat. I just hoped it didn't wind up with me being Big Stan's bitch when we shared a cell.
Three hours later, we were walking into an empty apartment on the twentieth floor of a downtown high rise in a part of town I had rarely seen even though most of my johns probably came from the suburbs and areas like this. Driving their Toyotas and minivans down my street, the closeted husbands sought me out, their eyes roaming my open-aired office for just the right boy to fuck in hopes of allowing them to get it up for their wives later.
"So, what do you think?" she smiled, turning to me. Looking out the window over the Seattle skyline, I saw the sun setting, the last rays of the day peeking out behind the clouds.
"But?" she encouraged, knowing I was not finished.
"Seems a bit too good to be true," I finally said, still not looking at her, and shoving my hands deep into my pockets.
"Well, Jasper, I believe in treating my employees very well. They are my bread and butter so to speak, and should be treated respectfully."
The hardwood floors and beautiful view were more than 'respectfully'.
"That being said," she walked over to stand next to me, her hand on my arm forcing me to look at her. "If you do work for me, you will do as I say and go where I tell you to go. In return, I will treat you well, but there are conditions you must meet and follow."
Nodding, I remembered the so-called conditions she had told me at the coffee shop. My position required me to be at her beck and call six days, or rather nights, a week to entertain clients. This entertaining could be anything from dinner to spending the entire night with them. In turn, she would provide me with a cell phone, apartment, gym membership, a percentage of my intake and a car and driver.
"Oh, you will also have a credit card," she informed me, pulling out an American Express Gold Card. In awe, I stared at the card. I had only seen them on the sides of the buses that drove by me as I sat in car while some john had his lips around my cock. "For all work related expenses, such as condoms, clothing, dinners, lube…toys."
After almost spitting my coffee out, I quirked an eyebrow at her, "Excuse me?"
"Toys. Vibrators, dildos, bondage….toys."
I wasn't in fucking Kansas anymore.
"Are you still interested?" she asked, placing the card back in her wallet.
"Good. Our next step is to get you tested and into some proper clothes."
She pulled out a business card and slid it across the table to me. "Call this office tomorrow and make an appointment. They will fit you as soon as you call."
Standing up, she swung her bag over her shoulder. "Now, let me show you the apartment."
Getting up, I followed her out of the coffee shop and into my new life.
"We're here, Sir," Mr. Magoo informed me as we pulled up in front the Renaissance Hotel. Shifting into park, he got out and made his way to my door. Stepping out of the car into the damn night air, I did the button of my jacket up and looked up at the hotel. "Mr. Carlson is staying suite number three on the top floor. He's expecting you. Don't be nervous, Mr. Whitlock, you will be fine. Mr. Carlson is a regular, he will treat you well."
"You can call me Aro, Sir." He smiled.
"Thanks, Aro." I gave him a weak smile and headed into the hotel.
The lobby was breathtaking, different shades of greens and browns covered the furniture and walls. Ignoring on the looks from the desk clerks, I was used to people staring at me all the time, it wasn't anything new. I went directly to the elevator, my new leather shoes clicking on the marble floor.
I glanced at myself in the reflective doors, brushing back my hair, I grinned to make sure nothing was stuck in my teeth and then popped a breath mint into my mouth. The gold doors slide open and I stepped out on the top floor following the arrows to suite number three.
Standing there, I briefly considered turning away, calling Tayna and saying thanks, but no thanks. But I realized, what faced me on the other side of that door couldn't be any worse than what I had dealt with on the streets.
I was in a rich classy hotel, how bad could the john be?
Of course, he could be wolf in sheep's clothing.
Swallowing hard, I knocked and waited for him to answer. I could hear muffled noises coming from the other side. When the door swung open, I was looking down at the floor studying the intricate pattern on the carpet while my heart raced in my chest.
"Jasper?" asked a deep voice. Slowly rising my head, I nodded. Tall, less than an inch shorter than me, he had ink black hair and deep, the most fucking unique blue-green eyes that were smiling even though his lips were not. Tanned skin covered what I suspected was a firm body, wide shoulders led to trim waist and slim hips.
Dressed in a plain dress shirt opened at the collar and black dress pants, he eluded wealth and confidence and fucking sex.
"Please, come in," he said, standing to the side and gesturing me past him. Looking around the room, I saw a crystal vase on a table, as well as a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Both could cause damage with a blow to the head.
Old habits die hard.
While I shuffled back and forth, suspiciously eyeing every little detail in the tasteful room, he stood behind me. Even though I could feel his gaze on me, I delayed turning around to face him. The room was huge with two large leather chairs sat in a corner with a large desk behind them. Against the tan wall to my right was a king-sized bed covered in a brown and light blue comforter and more pillows than any one person could use. There was one light, giving off a low warm glow from the corner behind the chairs. To my left was a long dresser with a large screen television hanging on the wall above it.
It was hands down the nicest place I had ever been invited in to.
"I'm Peter," he introduced himself from behind me. "How are you this evening?" he asked, his voice only solidifying the confident vibe I got from his clothing. Clearing my throat, I finally turned around to face my fate.
Fuck me, he was a sexy fate.
"Okay, I guess." I replied shrugging, flustered, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I had sounded like an idiot.
"Just okay? Well, let's see what we can do about that, shall we?" Sparkles lit up his eyes like little fireworks as he smiled and walked over the wine. "Would you like a glass?" he offered.
"I'm not old enough." I blushed, and searched the room for a distraction, wanting to look anywhere but at him. The television was off, but I could hear some classical music playing quietly even though I couldn't see a stereo anywhere. When he moved, his scent wafted around me, his very presence making my cock twitch.
"Jasper, I don't think one drink in a hotel room will hurt you," he said, pouring two glasses. "And I promise not to tell anyone." He winked, handing me one of the glasses of red wine before walking to the chair behind me.
With no pretense, I put the goblet to my lips and down the wine in one long swig. Enjoying the warmth of the alcohol in my throat, I waited for it to work its magic and calm my nerves. Exhaling heavily, I put the glass down next to the ice bucket, straightened my shoulders and turned around.
Leaning back, his long legs stretched before him, he was sitting in the leather chair in the corner of the room. At some point, he had unbuttoned a few more of buttons on his shirt, the open collar exposing delicious looking dark skin.
"Feel better?" he asked, and I swear I caught a bit of a familiar drawl in his words.
"Then how about we move along," he suggested, spinning the red liquid around the glass as he twirled the stem between his fingers. I couldn't blame the guy for wanting to get things going. Unlike the streets where I was paid by the act, this was an hourly gig, and I had no idea how many hours he had paid for.
Still not knowing what to do, I stood in front of him biting my lip. Normally, I was on my knees in front of someone as they leaned against a building in a dark alley, or if I was really lucky, I got fucked inside a warm car.
But there in a fancy hotel room, I was clueless.
It wasn't a request, it was a demand.
One I would gladly follow.
Nervously, I toed off my leather shoes, keeping my eyes on his as my hands went to the buttons of my jacket. Sliding it off, I tossed it over the arm of the second leather chair before unknotting my tie. Letting it hang undone around my neck, I started on the buttons of my shirt, slowly pushing each opalescent circle through the sewn holes. Hungrily, his gaze eagerly roamed up and down my body, always returning to my hands, watching them intently as each button was undone to expose more and more of my tanned, chiseled chest and stomach.
By the time I was letting the shirt fall down my arms and to the floor, his chest was heaving. Thrilled I was affecting him as much as he was me, I shook my head, letting my hair fall loose around my face and then looked down at my hands on my belt, slowly undoing the buckle and sliding the leather through the loops.
Smirking, I pulled it through and drop it to the floor with a satisfying sound. I never took my eyes off his as I unbuttoned my pants. More slowly than I ever had, I unzipped them, the sound of the metal teeth diminished by his low moan. Even in the dimly lit room, I could see his free hand had moved, settling on his crotch. Palming himself through his pants, he maintained a complete air of control, with the exception of his hooded eyes and quickening breaths. My own cock was already seeping when I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my pants and slid them down over my hips, let them fall to the ground and stepped out of them.
There was one more article of clothing left.
"All of it," he reminded me in a voice decorated with desire. With a curt nod, I tugged my Calvin Klein's down and kicked them off. My cock bobbed with my movement, standing out from my blonde curls.
Completely naked, I stood before him, my cheeks flushed with the heat of his appreciative stare while he continued to stroke himself, only now his hips were making the slightest thrusting motions.
His one word said so much.
Confidence began to flow through me, and even though I could still feel red of my cheeks at his words, I keep my eyes on his as I took the few steps to him. Bending over, I took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table next to the chair.
I grabbed his wrist and took his hand off his erection. "Let me take care of that for you," I whispered as I placed my hands on his thighs, and I realized it was the first time I had touched him since I had arrived about thirty minutes before. That was practically twice as long as I had been with any john on the streets. Squeezing, I felt the pure muscle of his leg as I lowered myself to my knees and settled between his legs.
Never removing my gaze, I tentatively reached up and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Grasping them and his underwear, I tugged on them as he lifted his hips. I pulled them down to his knees and finally allowed my eyes to leave his.
Only inches before me stood the fucking biggest cock I had ever seen. Nestled in pure black curls, it stood erect, the leaking fluid from the slit gathered at the tip. I tilted my head, watching him through my lashes the entire time, I swirled my tongue out and around the smooth pink head, enjoying the salty taste of his precum as it flowed over my taste buds.
His breath fucking hitched.
If there was one thing I was skilled at, it was fucking giving head. On the streets, you wanted it over and done with as quick as possible. I had perfected this talent, and could make a man sit on the edge of orgasm for an hour or have him shooting his load in less than five minutes.
With Peter, for once, I wanted to take my time.
As soon as I took his head into my mouth, I felt both his hands in my hair, pushing it back from my face so he had an unobstructed view of me sucking his cock.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that," he groaned. Impatiently, he thrust his hips up, forcing himself deeper in my mouth. Accepting his length, I relaxed my throat and let his head tap the back of it while I swallowed around him. "You like to take it deep, don't you?"
His hands stopped their gentle caresses in my hair, one moving to the back of my head as it bobbed up and down his shaft. My own cocked ached for release, and I moved one hand from his thigh to stroke myself. At my own touch, I moaned around him, the vibrations from my lips only spurred him on.
"Yeah, touch yourself. Stroke your cock for me."
I let my other hand fall between his soft thighs, settling on his velvety sac, rolling each ball in my palm before giving them a sharp tug.
When I felt his cock begin to pulse in my mouth, I released him with a pop, and looked up at him.
"Are you ready to fuck me?"
"Very much so." He smirked and motioned to the bed. Standing up, I walked to the bed and lay down on my back, resting on my elbows so I could watch him undress.
He stood up, his pants falling down to his ankles with the movement. Lifting one leg, then the other, he kicked himself free and then removed his shirt, tossing it in the chair near my jacket when he was done.
He was in even better shape than I had first given him credit for. Certainly, fucking sexier than the middle-aged potbellied men I was used to seeing pant over me. He sported a solid frame, built like a swimmer, his six-pack rippling under his beautifully naturally sun-kissed skin as he kneeled on bed and crawled his way over to me.
Lowering his hips onto mine, our erections touched for the first time, sending a surge of pure bliss through my entire body. I had never fucked for the sheer pleasure of it. It had always been a means to an end, or against my will.
But there, in the hotel room with Peter, I was very fucking willing.
Moaning at the sensation of our slickened cocks sliding together as he ground his hips into mine, I reached up and pulled his lips down to me.
I usually never fucking kissed anyone. Ever. It just wasn't done on the streets. It was too fucking personal.
"You taste so fucking good," he murmured just before his tongue entered my eager mouth. The slow, sensuous circles were driving me crazy, and my hands gripped his ass, holding him to me so I could thrust up into him. "You want me to fuck you, Jasper?"
Tilting my head to the side, his lips were sucking on the skin below my ear. Through my parted mouth escaped constant groans as I returned his passion with equal force. "Yes, fuck me…please."
So I wasn't above begging. Sue me.
I fucking wanted him inside me and I had no problem letting him know it. Rising to his knees, he leaned over the nightstand and grabbed a condom and bottle of lube. After opening the condom, he slipped it over his erection, his hands then spread lube around his length before he drizzled some on my ass.
This entire night was full of new experiences. Someone was actually preparing me to be fucked. I was rarely lucky enough to have lube available, much less have slippery fingers in my hole, gradually stretching me for them.
Foreplay was such a foreign concept.
"Ready for me?" he asked, removing his fingers from my ass. Grabbing both my ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and then spread my cheeks with one hand while he guided his cock into my ass.
He towered above me, powerful, assertive, his jaw clenched as his cock slowly pushed through the tight muscles. At the intrusion, a hissed escaped me as I cringed and clenched my eyes. He paused, his hands gently running up and down my chest and stomach.
"You okay?" he whispered, his eyebrows raised in hope.
Never had anyone cared if I was okay before. It was all about them, they would crudely enter me, pounding my ass until I was sore and raw with no regard to my comfort, never once considering the abuse my body was taking for the sake of their satisfaction.
After a few deep breaths, I nodded and smiled up at him. He returned with a grin of his own, and began to slowly push into me until he was fully seated. Balls to balls he remained, once again waiting for my body to adjust to the intrusion before he finally began pumping in and out of me in a steady rhythm.
As my cock bounced with every one of his powerful thrusts, I admired his skilled movements above me. His head lulled back, dark scruff covered his jaw and throat, full lips pulled between gleaming white teeth. Sweat had begun to gather on his chest from his exertion, and I watched it roll down his perfect skin. Strong hands gripped my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh to keep my ass pressed tightly to him as he continued to assault it with his hard cock.
Snapping his head up, he looked down at me with a feral hunger in his eyes. "Stroke your cock," he ordered.
That was one order I was hesitant to follow. Fucking was about getting the john off, not me. If I even got the slightly bit aroused, it was a miracle, but with him, I was as hard as a fucking rock, and dying to feel my own hand, but it wasn't what I was being paid for.
Sensing my reluctance, he spoke again between gasps of breath. "This isn't just…for me…." With those words, I eagerly gripped my cock in my hand, tightening my fist immediately, and began stroking in time with his thrusts. Pushing my head back into the bed, and using his shoulders as leverage, I lifted my ass off the bed, allowing him to penetrate me deeper.
Losing with little control I had, I begged, "Fuck me deeper."
He let loose a growl, grabbed my legs and thrust forward hard and fast, his cock hitting a spot deep within me I had never knew existed.
"Oh, fuck," I groaned. "Yeah, right there…harder."
Since when had I become the chatty demanding one?
"You want me to fuck you hard, you like my cock filling up your ass, don't you?"
"So fucking tight, boy." As soon as the words had left his lips, he reached down and pulled my hand off my cock, replacing it with his own.
It had been ages since another had touched me in such a desired way, and I felt my balls tighten as soon as his fingers had fully embraced me.
"Oh, fuck." My hands fell to my sides, fisting the blanket under me as my climax hit me in full force. "I'm cumming," I practically shouted.
"Fucking cum for me," he encouraged, squeezing the swollen head of my cock just as it erupted with milky hot cum, shooting it over my chest and stomach. With a wanton grunt, he slammed into me one last time before collapsing on top of me, his hips bucking sporadically as he rode out his orgasm.
While he lay on me, his body periodically quivering, I ran my hands soothingly up and down his back. Peter picked his head up off my shoulder, placing a kiss on my sweaty skin before moving his lips tenderly over mine.
I had never felt so done before, just fucking done, every muscle in my body cleansed and sated by our fucking. Complete and utter relaxation flowed through me, certainly different from the dancing nerves I had walked into the room with.
I felt him sigh against me before pushing himself up on his knees once again.
"Let's go get cleaned up," he suggested climbing off the bed and grabbing my hand.
Another new concept.
With a deep laugh, he turned me toward the bathroom, his hands on my hips. "Yes, cleaned up, Jasper. As in a nice hot shower."
I couldn't help but moan at the thought of being soapy and wet and slippery with him in a large shower.
He sat with his back against the wood headboard. I lay between his spread legs, my back to his chest. We weren't exactly cuddling, but our bodies were warm and comfortable. When I felt his fingers separating my curls, I dropped my head to his shoulder.
"Mmm…your fucking blue eyes and honey waves are quite the lethal combination, aren't they? To say nothing of that gorgeous drawl."
Under his scrutiny, I shifted uncomfortably against him. Wanting to direct the attention away from me, I decided to ask something I normally would not have.
"Speaking of a drawl, I swear I hear a bit of one as well."
Chuckling, he leaned his head back against the pillow. "I guess you probably did. It tends to slip out when I'm not focused enough."
"Yes. Like when I'm balls deep inside a tight ass, my mind isn't always on hiding my accent."
Blushing, I whispered an embarrassed, "Oh."
"What part of Texas are you from, Jasper?"
Oh, he was good.
"How did you know?" I leaned to the side, eyeing him.
Shrugging, he winked."I always run a background check on my all escorts before I fuck them." His fingers literally pushed my mouth closed. "Relax, Jasper. I'm joking."
I felt the tension that had gathered in my muscles at his words disappear just as fast. The last thing I wanted was for him, or fucking anyone, to know my history.
"Houston…mostly." It wasn't entirely a lie. My birth certificate said Houston, and I had spent my formative years there.
And they had been quite formative.
"I thought so, you have the twang of the lower south dialect." His hands left my hair and rested on my chest, his thumbs lazily circling my nipples.
"How about you?"
"Just outside Lubbock. My parents had a ranch, cattle and such." His fingers never stopped their ghostly passes over my chest and arms.
I shivered under his arousing touch.
"You like that, sexy?" he asked, his voice suddenly lower, and his accent reappearing. Nodding, I turned my head, and putting a hand on his chin, I pulled his lips to mine.
The kiss started off innocently enough, but after I found myself under him, his lips working down my body as it shuddered under him, we were anything but innocent. When his tongue caressed around my navel, my hips bucked up. Smiling, he continued down until his berry lips were poised over the head of my pulsing cock.
"Time to see what you taste like…." Were the last words I heard him until my moans drowned him out completely.
They were many of them and they were feather light…and moist. Little bug bites with a soft touch instead of a sting or pinch. Then I heard one of the bugs distinctly moan.
Lying on my stomach, I pried my eyes open, although the pitch black of the room would not allow me to make out my surroundings. The moment of panic should have set in, but I felt oddly welcomed and safe. As I blinked my way into consciousness, I felt the warm weight on me, enveloping me and covering my back completely.
"Time to wake up," the quiet voice murmured. After pushing my hair aside, I felt the moist bites continue on the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck. At the same time, strong legs settled between my thighs, wet fingers spread my ass, probing my hot hole.
"Fuccckkk," I groaned into the pillow, pushing my ass up into the air and spreading my legs, giving him easier access.
"Yes, time to fuck," he whispered into my ear as he pushed in the head of his condom sheathed cock.
In unison, we groaned, reveling in the fullness when he was fully seated in me.
Grunting, he continued to push, his hands gripping my hips, holding me to him. "I love fucking this tight ass of yours."
Enthusiastically, I let my hips met his thrust for thrust, and above my head, my hands gripped the wood bars of the headboard turning my knuckles white with the strain. Every fiber in my body hummed with gratification as he aggressively fucked me. Reaching down under me, he wrapped his fingers around my overly sensitive cock, stroking it so furiously that I was on the edge of my climax within a few pumps.
"You're…the…best…fuck…I've…"he began, punctuating each syllable with a sharp thrust, "ever had." Crying out, his body tensed above me, his teeth biting into the flesh of my shoulder. The feeling of him pulsing inside me sent me over, and my own cock began to spasm in his hand, shooting hot cum onto the bedspread below me.
With his weight on top of me, we lay there, catching our breath. Moaning when his limp cock finally slid from me, I instantly missed the feeling of him inside me.
"I should go," I said quietly into the pillow.
"Why the rush?" He let his nose nuzzle my cheek, his breath spreading over my face.
Shyly, I looked down. "I don't want to go over the time limit." I hated bringing up the fact that I was being paid to be there.
I could hear the smile in his voice. "Oh, don't worry about that, it's taken care of." My silence was question enough, so he explained. "I always pay for the entire night. I never know how long I am going to want their company. And…"
"Well, let's just say I have never wanted anyone's company three times before."
Instantly, I blushed.
Rolling off me, he placed a kiss on my cheek before he got off the bed.
"I need to go shower again. You get some more sleep."
He didn't have to tell me twice.
Closing my eyes as he walked off, I never even heard the shower start.
When he looked at me, his eyes traveling down my body in the soft glow of the light near the bed, I felt exposed in a way I never had before. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as he let his stare blatantly stop at my cock, almost willing it to come to life again.
Wasn't three times enough for this man? Hadn't I earned my payment already? While working on the streets was exhausting in its own way, never had I had to perform three times with one john. This shit was going to wear me out.
I made a mental note to eat better and take advantage of the gym membership Tayna had offered.
Nervously, I reached for the sheet, laying it across my lap and covering up some of my nakedness. I was not ashamed of my body, far from it, but as I sat there while he openly desired me, my stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies and I felt the need to cover up.
Chuckling, he turned away from me and grabbed his shirt. With hungry eyes I watched as he slipped his long arms through the crisp white shirt.
"As sexy as you are sitting there with that look, I don't have time for another round of fun," he stated as he began to button up the shirt and turned to face me again. He was so comfortable, so sure of each movement he made, almost like he was living a movie script and everything just fell into place for him. "I have a lot of work to do tonight."
I wasn't sure how to react. Admittedly, I was a bit relieved that he had to work. My ass was sore, and I honestly didn't know if I could have handled his cock inside me again. However, part of me was disappointed that my time with him was almost over. I would have to leave and go back to my apartment, as nice as it was, I was alone there.
It almost made me miss the streets and the constant companionship I had there.
Giving him a smile, I glanced around for my clothes and found them neatly folded on the dresser. Apparently a bit of a neat freak, he must have folded them earlier. The gold of his cuff links caught my eye as he slid one through the hole and began to clip it. I licked my lips at the contrast of the white shirt against his deeply tanned skin and dark hair covering his forearm and wrist.
"What?" he asked, holding out his other wrist while doing up the link with deft fingers.
I looked up at him. The confidence I had had on the streets was all but lost in the fancy hotel suite with down bedspreads and thick terry robs. Here I was intimidated, this was not my territory, my comfort level had been breached as soon as I stepped from the hard concrete of the sidewalk onto the shiny marble floor.
"Don't be afraid, Jasper."
Biting my lip, I gathered my thoughts for a moment before deciding to continue. While I was nervous with him, he gave off an air of candor that made it hard not to be completely forthcoming.
Taking a deep breath, I spoke. "Well, you're a very…nice looking guy." I blushed deeper but kept going. "You're obviously well off. So…why do you…." I hesitated, unable to finish, to say those last words that solidified my employment, that I was getting fucked for cash.
"Need an escort?" he finished for me with a smug smile as he grabbed his tie and tossed the paisley printed silk over his neck. Again, I licked my lips when my eyes fell on where his pale collar met the vulnerable, tanned skin of his neck.
Recalling how he fucking moaned when I sucked on that very spot a few hours prior, I felt my cock twitch.
"Yeah," I replied casually, but when he raised an eyebrow at my response, I changed my answer. "Yes." I looked down at my hands in my lap, never having felt these conflicted emotions before, the need to please someone else so intensely and yet, still be myself.
I felt the firm grip on my chin as his fingers forced my face up until I was looking into his piercing eyes. "Jasper, never look down for anyone. Ever. Me included…understand?"
I nodded, gratefully accepting his direction, fucking accepting anything he would give me. Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. The smell of his aftershave mixed with the lingering smell of our fucks filled my lungs when I took a deep breath.
"Good. As for needing an escort, it's not very complicated really. I like money, I make a lot of it, but to do that, I have to put in a lot of hours. I can't be bothered with a relationship, and they tend to bore me anyway. But when I have a certain…itch that needs scratching, I give Tayna a call. She's always treated me well."
"I understand. I'm sorry, I should not ha-"
"Stop. Don't apologize. Ask me anything you want, but if you ever ask a question that makes me uncomfortable, I won't answer. "
"Okay, thank you." I fed off his confidence and met his gaze. The smile he gave me made me proud.
"Now, as much as I would love to continue this conversation, among other pleasures we've had tonight, I really must get back to work. I assume Tayna has arranged a car, or shall I procure one for you?" he asked, knotting his tie and tightening it at his neck.
"Yea-I mean, yes, I have a car waiting for me downstairs."
Smiling he held out his hand to me. Taking it, I stood up, unabashedly letting the sheet fall, naked before him. "You know you're fucking sexy wearing nothing but that blush right?" He complimented, his hands grazing up and down my sides sending shivers throughout my body. "But I must ask, why the blush, embarrassed or ashamed?
"A little of both I guess," I answer honestly, shrugging.
He pulled back, and stared me with his blue-green eyes. "Don't be ashamed of what you do. You're providing a service, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
"No 'buts', Jasper. Don't be ashamed of who you are, or what you do."
I leaned toward him, knowing he would be unable to resist one last kiss. When one of his hands immediately went behind my neck to draw me closer, I knew I had been right. It was a brief but passionate kiss, my lips automatically opened to accept his velvet tongue before he pulled away a bit breathless.
"Fuck…." he groaned, placing his forehead against mine. "You are quite the distraction." With my hands on his wrists, my fingers playing with those shiny gold links, I grinned at him. "And here I thought fucking your ass three times would help me concentrate better on my work tonight. I'm rarely wrong, but you, my dear Jasper, have proven me wrong tonight."
"My pleasure," I whispered before kissing his lips one last time. The sound of his hand smacking my ass made me jump more than the sting that radiated through my flesh.
"Now go get dressed before I decide to say screw work and fuck you again instead." He teased, releasing me from his hold. With red cheeks, and ass, I gathered my clothes and went into the bathroom to dress.
Standing at his door in my shirt and dress pants, my suit jacket tossed over my arm, I waited while he walked over to me. His aqua eyes looked me up and down, similar to how he had when I had first entered the room several hours ago, and I felt myself begin to harden under his stare. Shifting, I dropped my jacket to cover my growing erection. He had already told me he had no time for more, and I didn't want to risk pissing him off by teasing him.
"Thank you, Jasper, for everything." I could feel the warmth of his hand he put on my shoulder through my thin shirt. It did nothing but encourage my cock.
"Thank you," I nodded. How does one go about saying good night to a john? I had been used to opening the car door and getting out before they had even caught their breath. This long goodbye shit was new territory for me.
"I've never requested the presence of an escort a second time, but I think I might just put you on a standing order." His hand moved to my neck, spreading the warmth there. "I would like to see you again," he chuckled, his thumb caressing my jaw.
"It would be my pleasure to be…seen again," I returned his banter.
"Goodbye, Jasper." Leaning in, he kissed me one last time, and I resisted every instinct I had to push him back toward the bed. "Until next time."
"Goodbye, Peter," I finally addressed him by name. I turned and put my hand on the door knob. With one last glance over my shoulder, I opened the door and walked through, hearing the soft click and the deadbolt slide behind me.
I had survived my first night. Not only had I survived, I had enjoyed myself, three times actually, and my presence had already been requested to be repeated.
And for once in my life, I didn't feel used. Of course, I realized I had been used, as he said I provided a service, and he had used that service. However, it felt different.
I would be used by him anytime.
Grinning, I made my down to the lobby and out through the revolving door to the waiting Town Car. Opening the door, I slid into the plush leather seats and settled in.
"Did you have a good evening, Mr. Whitlock?" Aro asked me, glancing over his shoulder and taking in my well worn appearance.
Looking out the window at the lights of the city as he pulled away from the sidewalk, I blushed at the memories that flooded my head. Peter's body above mine, thrusting, gasping, and moaning.
"You're the best fuck I've ever had."
Either he hadn't been fucked much, or my competition in the escort service was subpar. Smiling, I realized either situation was a win/win for me.
"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking."
"Home?" he asked, taking a right turn.
Welcome to Oz, Jasper.
Any minute, I expected Munchkins to jump out and circle the car, telling me to follow the yellow brick road.
I was definitely going to take their advice, put on my ruby slippers and follow that fucking yellow brick road.
This was my new life.
And I fucking loved it.
Thanks for reading!
I'm thrilled to announce that Dannie and I have partnered up to host a contest called Devirginizing Edward. Details can be found here http :/ www . fanfiction . net/u/2180161/Devirginizing_Edward (remove spaces). So, get busy writing Edward gettin' busy for his first time!