Chapter 2
-Dylan Drake-
The guy’s on his knees in front of me. It’d be the easiest thing in the world to walk around him, but why deny myself simple pleasure when it’s offered so freely.
Besides, the kid’s cute. I say kid, but he’s probably only a year or two younger than me.
He’s just not been hardened by Hollywood and a fucked-up world in quite the same way.
His big hazel eyes are pleading as he stares up at me.
I get it, I silently reassure him. I know what it’s like to want something so much you’re prepared to risk everything in order to get it. It’s how I scored my first role, and I haven’t looked back since the camera rolled on the Sunsetters shoot.
“Is there something you want?” I trace my thumb along the edge of my fly and his eyes bulge a little.
A fine mist of perspiration peppers his brow.
What he wants is my dick in his mouth, even if he’s not ready to admit that aloud.
It’s what he’s wanted since he turned up in my life two days ago.
I don’t know what his official role is, underling to some other studio underling, something exceedingly unremarkable, but then he doesn’t exactly dive on opportunities.
I swanned around for two hours last night in nothing but a towel and we never got further than him drinking me down with his pretty eyes.
It got to the point where I was ready to ditch the Egyptian cotton and give my dick a full work out right in front of him, while he flitted about trying to look busy.
Only reason it didn’t happen was that Howard Falchard’s too big a killjoy to allow me my kicks.
Apparently, one fan getting a little obsessive requires sobriety on my part. Good thing Howard isn’t around today.
“Do you want to see what I’ve got?”
His lips part, but he still doesn’t say a word. There’s a change in his breathing though, a little catch that gives him away. I hope the kid never takes up poker.
I open up my palm and give my package a squeeze.
The action makes him lick his lips. I don’t think he’s out. That’s what this is about. Exposing yourself is always a gamble, and it feels so much more of a gamble when you play the game for the first time. The subsequent thrills are never quite the same.
I unhook the waistband of my trousers with my thumb, slide the zipper. It’s a tease, because he can’t see anything but a sliver of black underwear. “Shall I undress some more?”
“Yes.”
Bravo! He’s using actual fucking language, and since he asked so nicely, I drop my trousers and boxer briefs so he gets a clear view of what it is that has him so enraptured.
I’m half-hard, thickened by low-level arousal and the promise of some fun, but not quite perked up enough to mean genuine business. A couple of idle pulls sorts out that.
His Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows as he watches. He can’t take his eyes off my hand…off my dick. A tent forms in the front of his slacks.
“Why don’t you get it out and show me what you’re packing?”
“Huh?”
Boy, he really is clueless. I could totally fix that, but we’re working to a time limit here. I’ve a charity dinner to attend, a speech to give…
“Get it out and let’s see you stroke it.”
Apparently he’s good with direct instructions.
He shoves his clothing down to his knees between one slow blink of his eyelids and the next.
Unlike mine, his dick is taut against his abs, so stiff it probably hurts too much to touch.
Sure enough he flinches when he wraps his fist around it and follows along with the up-down motion I’m using to fan the flames of this little diversion.
Kid’s gonna come without me ever having laid a finger on him.
There’s already pre-come leaking all over his hand.
Unless he’s got a reserve of hidden stamina he’s going to be shooting over my shoes.
“Have you sucked a dick before?”
He shakes his head. The movement is so slight it’s near imperceptible; most of it is in his eyes.
“Do you want to suck my dick?”
“Man!” he gasps, and he jerks and shoots his stuff all over my Balmoral Boots.
Serious hair trigger, dude!
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
I’m not joking; he attempts to clean up with his own shirt sleeve.
“Hey.” Once I have his attention and he’s looking up again, I take a pace towards him, which forces him to straighten up his back unless he wants his head planted between my thighs. “I asked you a question?”
“Sorry, yeah…sorry.”
“Stop apologising. I have other shoes.” Not that I intend to change out of the ones I’m wearing. Situations such as these are what wet wipes were invented for. “So?”
“I do, but…I’m not sure how good I’ll be.”
“You’ll be fine. It’s really not that difficult. Just keep your teeth out of the way and we’ll be good.”
“Yeah?”
I take hold of one of his hands and position it against my upper thigh, the other I have him wrap around the base of my cock.
“Feels good, right?”
He makes a smooth murmur of appreciation, and leans forward into me. His nose is level with my balls as he sticks out his tongue to take a lick at my shaft right below where he’s gripping me. “You’re sure you want me to?”
“You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“It’s just, I’m not anybody.”
“You’re the guy who’s about to let me blow my load in his mouth,” I tell him. “That very definitely makes you a someone.”
“Yeah?”
He’s smiling like crazy as he takes another lick. This one is not nearly so hesitant. He repeats the action, each time rising a little higher and groaning when he gets a taste of me.
“Shit man, I didn’t ever think this was going to be possible.
” He’s all wet mouth and heat as he slurps on my dick.
There’s no technique, but he makes up for that in enthusiasm.
The hold he has around the base is nigh on perfect.
Somehow he knows just when the right moment is to lower his hand and give my balls a tender squeeze too.
Aw, yeah! I grind into him, tangling my hand in the soft spikes of his hair, working him to a rhythm that’s more than a little dictatorial, but that’s kind of what this is, a dick-tutorial.
He’s totally going to ace his first class.
Nice… He lets me get in deep without doing any ungainly spluttering.
It’s turning into more of a face fucking exercise than a blowjob, but as we’re both cool with that, I don’t attempt to change it.
I notice he’s got his dick back in his hands again, and is pumping it hard in time with the roll of my hips.
The kid’s got lots of juice in him. I like that.
I like that he’s utterly shameless in his enjoyment of the fact that I’m abusing his mouth.
I wonder if he’d just as willingly offer up other parts to my abuse.
Bet he would.
There’s a knock on the door. I ignore it, too tied up in the joy of his willing sucks.
“Mr. Drake, open up. Your ride is here.”
So, it’s just going to have to wait. I’ve business here that I intend to finish, and I refuse to be rushed. He’s swallowing now as I go in deep. I swear with practice he’s going to be the blowjob king.
“Dylan Drake. It’s time to go. We’ve an exact time slot to make.”
Pounding away on the door isn’t going to make me come faster. The curl of my beautiful fuck-toy’s fingers into the muscles of my arse on the other hand totally does it for me. Dare he? Dare he?
Yes!
His middle finger slides into the groove between my cheeks and teases my wrinkled pucker. “No need to be shy,” I encourage him.
He goes for it. The tip of his middle finger pushes into me. I’m starting to think the novice thing is just an act. What the hell. I don’t actually care. The important point is that he’s getting me off.
I squirm as he finger fucks me. He’s definitely done this before as he knows exactly how to bend his finger to hit my pleasure points. Someone needs to give the man an Oscar. I was completely taken in until this point. Still, I’m so not complaining.
He’s swallowing now as he lets me drive deeper into his throat. The guy’s a pro. At least there aren’t any reporters on hand. I wonder how he managed to pass the vetting squad to get his internship. Maybe on his knees doing what he’s good at.
My cock’s so thick now that it’s ready to bust. The sap starts rising up my shaft. Stars are twinkling on the inside of my eyelids.
A loud thump behind me startles me into opening my eyes. There’s a crack of wood splintering, and the suite door bounces back on its hinges.
What in the fucking hell!
A woman storms in. She’s tall and athletic, with a long pale neck that’s emphasised by the low-cut of her Twenties-style diamante embellished cocktail dress and the shortness of her blonde hair. She draws up straight to her considerable height and stares icy daggers at me.
“Your car is waiting, Mr. Drake. Was there something unclear about the precise nature of this evening’s operation?”
I shiver as the joy leeches from my skin, but my cock doesn’t shrivel. “Crystal clear.”
My boy toy temporarily stills, clearly uncertain what the situation is. Me, I keep on rocking until he gets the message. We’re not going anywhere until this is done. Fuck Ms. Door Smasher and her tut of disgust. I ought to be the one incensed that she broke in and invaded my privacy.
“You’re going to have to wait a few,” I tell her.
Her attention zooms in tight on my arse and the finger wedged between my cheeks. She stares at the junction where my cock meets Oscar’s mouth and a sneer contorts what is otherwise a deliciously pretty mouth.
“If you’d just said.”