I drag from my cigarette, eyes cuffed to his
as the smoke bleeds out from between my lips.
Brandon’s the six-month softie.
Ben’s the three-year ticking time bomb.
He’s got kinks with no limits.
By now he’s memorized the rules,
but resents following them.
He’s possessive. Not of me, but of the setup.
The lifestyle. The money. The security.
It’s been fifteen months since I let him fuck me to shut him up.
And boys like Ben?
You neglect their needs too long, they snap.
Turn cruel. Break rules. Make threats.
Walk out the door.
Even the diehards hit their limit and realize money isn't enough. Not when they start craving what I'll never hand over. Then, when they do walk, it’s nevermethey’re leaving. It’s the system.
One Boy goes,
another takes his place.
No feelings, no fallout.
You can’t be abandoned
when you never gave them a piece of you.
If it stays transactional,
no one cries over a broken contract.
I give Ben a lazy wave.
He doesn't wave back,
still watching, eyes burning.
I glance down at Brandon.
His chin’s soaked,
mouth’s swollen,
head moving side to side.
Then his lips close around me,
