4. Edward
EDWARD
Edward wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he hadn’t been able to get the gorgeous bleach-blond twink out of his head all week. He’d thought about messaging him a million times, but then he’d been the one to reach out with a simple, “Are you around tonight?”
Edward hadn’t been planning to go out at all.
It had been a bitch of a week, with speculation running rife about the PM’s departure.
The press were hinting at things, but nobody had broken ranks yet, so they couldn’t claim a source had given them a scoop.
It was what Edward admired about Olivia the most – the respect she commanded from the cabinet.
Nobody briefed the press in secret after a meeting; even Hargreaves had toed the line before he’d resigned.
It was no doubt frustrating for journalists, who all had their sources within government, but it meant important policy updates didn’t leak unless they did it deliberately.
That had been a tactic employed by politicians for decades.
Have something “accidentally” leak to the press to test the public reaction.
If it were muted, they’d press on and confirm the story, or if not, announce something different and tell the electorate not to believe everything they read in the papers.
It had been the same dance as long as politics and the press had existed together.
The online forums were a different beast. They were buzzing with speculation and even suggesting the PM was terminally ill, which is why they weren’t announcing anything.
The crap people made up was unbelievable.
The credible press might not be reporting on the speculation with any fuss, but the gossip rags were different.
They were the same ones who had often speculated about Edward’s sexuality, given he was forty and unmarried.
People claimed to be open and inclusive, yet still believed if a man wasn’t tied to a woman at forty, then he was gay.
They weren’t wrong regarding him, but he didn’t like the presumptive nature of it all.
That being said, if the gossip press knew what he was doing tonight, they’d think all their Christmases had come at once.
Derek had let him in the back entrance again, and now he was in one of the rooms of the labyrinth, waiting to see if TopTwink8 was going to show up.
There was no lighting in this room, so Edward couldn’t see a thing.
Technically, anyone could walk in, but he’d agreed on a secret knock, so all he could do now was wait.
He’d arrived at the club an hour early because the anticipation was too much, and once he’d arrived, he’d gone into the room almost immediately because he didn’t want to risk being seen.
Now he was sitting in the dark with no sense of time.
Edward was sure his hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure why, because it wasn’t the first time he’d been fucked in a back room.
After becoming a politician, Edward had had to be very careful when coming here, and he’d just had to take what he could get.
Sometimes he didn’t know who was fucking him, but he needed it to help him deal with the stress of his job.
Edward wasn’t someone who did anything half-arsed.
He was dedicated to his constituents and party, and while some of his colleagues phoned it in or focussed on Westminster, Edward spent as much time as he could with the people who’d voted for him.
Since he’d become deputy prime minister, he’d faced constituents who wanted to talk about the colossal problems rather than local issues, but Edward made sure he always made time for the latter.
It was something Olivia did as well, despite the monumental job she had of running the country.
Edward would take the same approach when he became PM.
He was so deep in thought that when someone knocked on the door, he almost hit the ceiling from being so startled.
“Come in,” he said, in a gruff Mancunian accent.
It was the only accent he could do, so it was his default in these situations.
He couldn’t risk someone recording his voice and working out who he was.
Why he lived like this, he still didn’t know.
His father had been a homophobic arsehole and had been physically abusive when Edward had questioned his sexuality in his late teens.
He’d stopped him from going to Oxford, demanding he go to a local university and live at home instead.
It had tarnished his university experience, as he hadn’t been allowed to go out after his lectures, so he’d made no friends.
The same approach had been taken when he was a trainee solicitor.
Once he was fully qualified and earning enough money, he was out the door, but he was twenty-three at that point, and so deeply in the closet he didn’t know any other way to be.
Edward’s mother had known he was gay, even though he’d never confirmed it to her.
She’d dropped enough hints that he could talk to her anytime if something was bothering him.
Edward hadn’t wanted to burden her with keeping it a secret from his father, though, and have her suffer under his hand because of him.
His father had kept on at him until the day he’d died about Edward needing to carry on the family line, as it was his duty.
That wouldn’t be happening now. Not that he couldn’t have kids with another man, but he was about to take on the biggest job in the country and couldn’t think about anything else right now.
And in a few years he’d be too old to start a family.
Why he was thinking about his father when he was about to get a good fucking from TwinkTop8, he wasn’t sure. Edward just hoped the guy lived up to his own hype.
“Are you my silver fox sub?” said a gorgeous voice.
Edward hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it hadn’t been such a deep voice.
He’d assumed, based on how he looked in his photos, that he’d have a higher pitch.
That was a huge stereotype, he knew that, and he should feel bad, but that voice had made his cock swell instantly, causing his inner monologue to be silenced.
“And you must be the twink top,” said Edward.
“You didn’t prep, did you?”
“No sir.”
“You don’t need to call me sir.”
“Do you object if I do?”
“Not at all. Get your clothes off, so I can feel what I’m working with.”
Edward shed everything he was wearing, being careful to fold it up and put it to one side, off the floor.
You did not know what could be down there.
He wouldn’t be the first person fucked in here tonight, or the last. Best he didn’t think too much about that, though.
If someone came in here with a blue light, it would probably make him heave.
His mystery man moved towards him and gripped Edward’s cock hard. He almost came on the spot.
“Packing some nice girth yourself, aren’t you, my little slut boy?”
Edward snorted.
“Yeah, that sounded better in my head,” the guy said with a chuckle. “Get on your knees. I want to eat your hole before I fuck you.”
“You need to stop talking like that, or it’ll be over too quickly.”
“I thought you liked dirty talk, slut boy . . . no, still doesn’t work.”
“Yeah, I think my boy days are far behind me.”
“Slut man doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”
Edward couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t something he usually did during sex, but then it was rare that any of the guys spoke a word to him, unless it was about how big their cock was.
The guy grunted and gave Edward’s cock another tug and a twist before letting go.
The sound of him unbuckling his own belt prompted Edward to get on the rubber mattress, which was on the floor.
Such a classy place. He didn’t even want to think about how the public would react to knowing this was what their future prime minister got up to on a Friday night.
It would be déjà vu of all the political sex scandals in the nineties, but gayer.
Before he could go into an unhelpful thought spiral about his father again, his cheeks were pulled apart and a warm, wet tongue licked against his hole, causing him to moan.
He’d only been rimmed once before, and it had been nothing like this.
Most guys he met wanted him to already be prepped before they arrived, and they just fucked him and left.
Or they didn’t bother with prep and just suited up and forced their way in, which would feel great but he’d regret it for the following few days.
TwinkTop8 had been adamant that Edward didn’t prep himself, as he wanted to do it.
Every hair on his body was standing up as pleasure pulsed through him with each lick of the guy’s tongue.
Edward had experienced nothing like it. Being in the pitch black elevated the intensity, with his other senses compensating for his lack of sight.
He could smell the the young man’s aftershave.
It was a woody and citrus blend, which shouldn’t work as a masculine scent, but it did.
The guy might look twinky in his pictures, but he was the dominant one now, and Edward was powerless on his knees with his arse in the air.
He resisted touching his aching cock because he knew it would be over the second he did, and Edward desperately wanted to know if the guy fucked as well as he rimmed.
A finger entered him alongside the tongue, and he felt his body relax.
He was so ready for this. He was constantly under pressure with his job, and it was hard to switch his brain off from something that was twenty-four seven.
To focus only on pleasure instead of politics was just what he needed right now.
This guy knew how to stop his brain from spinning, and that was just with his tongue and a finger.