“You are a banging hot boy who has a husband who might not appreciate you bringing home a billionaire.” I look at his beer longingly, needing something to drink.
“Oh, hubs would be down, especially if we got paid. You know what I mean.”
I do, and I don't, because I just walked away from one hundred thousand dollars. I try not to think about it because I just couldn't take the money. It didn't seem right. I had the night, I had the memories, and I'd just move on with my life. Two thousand will be plenty. I canpay my rent, at least. I did what the catering company wanted us to do: entertain the fucking client.
I hear a male voice just outside the bar. “Have you seen a server wearing a red mask this evening?”
Fuck, it is him.
“John, please take me home,” I beg quietly, totally panicking.
John looks at my face and knows I am freaking out. He then glances over in the direction of the voice, getting a better look than I do of Mr. Cock. I can’t look at him; I didn’t want to see him. I just want to leave. I start heading toward the garage where I know John has parked and just hope he’ll be right behind me.
When I am sitting in the front seat of John's car, I finally can breathe. God, I was so fucking scared. I don't know what I was running away from, but I just couldn't face him, couldn't look at what we'd done. It was amazing and felt so good and I wanted more, but it was also wrong—or not wrong exactly… but ah, fuck, I am confused.
“He was so hot,” John says, smiling. “A smokin’ silver fox,” he says and gives me a wink.
“All I saw was his cock mask and well… his actual… never mind.” I laugh, feeling so slutty.
“Good for you, Scar. I’m glad you had fun. I know you well enough that you’ll be a little weird about this, but good sex is good fun. No one got hurt. It was consensual, right?”
“Very,” I agree, and it was.
I wanted it and I got it; I should feel great. John lifts his hand to offer a high five, and I laugh.
“You’re an honorary gay, my friend. Found a sugar daddy, and you got to business.”
Not exactly what happened, but I have to chuckle and hit his high five.
“Not all gays,” I say, “are like that.”
“Only the good ones.” He winks and drives me home.
I am totally grateful for John; I need him after what I have just been through. It wasn't bad—the sex was actually incredible—but Iam a jumbled mess inside. I thank John for driving me home, and we promise to catch up again. I don't have another catering gig for about a week or so, which is fine because I have to recover. I also have an audition for the New York City Ballet later the next day.
I am hoping that I will be cast in the corps de ballet or as an apprentice. I could quit my job at the catering company because the pay would be comparable and I'd finally be able to do what I love instead of catering to people like Mr. Cock.
I am so tired when I finally get home that I just take off my clothes and fall into bed.
In my sleep, I dream of Mr. Cock, and the moment his huge dick entered me. I feel like I am being blasted apart. He is so thick and wonderful, and I feel completely overtaken by an alien life form that absolutely rocks my world. I hold on to him as his hips press in and pull out, like a dancer. I love the groans he makes when he is losing himself in the moment. When we come at the same time, it is as if we are both in the air flying. In my dream, I am able to remove the mask, and he is the most beautiful man I’ve ever beheld. He leans in and kisses me, then says…
“Hey, you.”
My bedroom light blares to life.
“I made some chia pudding and a blueberry smoothie,” Mia says, bright and chipper way too early in the morning.
“What time is it?” I cover my head with my pillow and wish her away. I had pulled the blackout shades and intended on sleeping until just before my audition.
“It’s eight-thirty. I have a nine o’clock class, but I wanted to remind you to get up and not miss your audition.”
“I moved it to three, remember? Because I had to work last night,” I say from under the pillow.
“Oh shit, yeah, sorry. I knew you had to work, but I forgot you changed the audition time. How was it?”
Ugh, it is too early to tell her, but I don’t know when I’ll get the chance, so I unearth myself from under the pillow and look at her.
“I ‘hearted,’” I say,feeling so fucking slutty. “It’s when you, um… make yourself available to the guests for ‘conversation’ and, well… Cock.” I give her a big-ass fake grin.
