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While the whole daddy thing wasn’t a kink of mine, I could appreciate their dynamic and the trust between them. They communicated openly, the younger taking charge and directing me onto the bed. The twink ended up the meat in our man sandwich, the lucky dog, rocking between me and his daddy to get the best of both worlds.
I could admit to being jealous. His hole filled by his daddy’s thick cock, his own dick encased in the tight heat of my ass, being in control of the fucking in every way…
“Fuck yeah,” I groaned, reaching back to hold onto the boy’s hip as he shoved his little dick in and out of me. I’d come prepped as requested in their file, not caring that the misters didn’t want anything more than a hole. Zero kissing. Zero foreplay. Zero intimacy.
The best type of connecting—nothing but lust, fucking, getting off, and a thank you before I strolled out the door.
I couldn’t imagine trying for a relationship with one dude let alone two, but a threesome sure as fuck would be a fun fantasy to live out.
Maybe with the next couple I would be crammed in the middle.
It wasn’t like I could go looking for an orgy outside work, or I would have. Elite Escorts, owned by my older brother Micah, didn’t allow fucking on the side. Our bodies were contracted to please customers, and even though I’d managed the gay branch of the business for the previous two-plus years, the rules applied to me as well.
But hey…easy hookups and even better pay? I had no complaints.
The twink’s daddy didn’t lay a finger on me or even acknowledge the fact I shared the bed with them, which I was fine with as well. He was all about his boy, gifting him the fuck toy he’d wanted. My hole was being used, and I had my own hand to get me off. The night would go down as a win in my book.
I stroked my dick in time with the twink’s thrusts, his mewling noises a softer music in my ears to his Daddy’s grunts. I preferred a rougher tumble in the sack, but as long as cocks and spunk were involved, I was a happy boy.
“Oh…” the twink gasped, his hips starting to stutter. “I’m c-close, Daddy.”
“My sweetest boy,” his bear’s voice murmured, and fucking hell, that low timbre, those words, sent a shudder through me. “Come for me. Squeeze my dick with your hot, little hole.”
My balls seized.
I shot my load all over the sheets, cursing up a blue streak as my ass clenched around the twink’s cock.
“Daddy!” the twink cried and shuddered, his dick pulsing in the condom while buried in my ass.
“Good boy.” The deep, bear-like groan behind him in response to his husband’s orgasm sent another spurt of cum up through my length.
“Oh shit,” I moaned, still stroking myself while coming down, my ears ringing from the bigger man’s praise even though it hadn’t been meant for me.
Tonight’s clients hadn’t given me the climax of the century, but I’d emptied my balls, and my extremities tingled long after I’d been told I could dress and leave. I’d found release with hardly any effort on my part along with an extra tip in the form of a couple of crisp one-hundred dollar bills.
Easy fucking money, pun definitely intended.
Steps light and grin plastered on my face, I left Mr. and Mr. Chesterfield to their cuddle fest in a world of their own where no one else was welcome.
I wasn’t bothered in the least.
Unlike the twink boy, I had no desire for a sugar daddy to own and spoil me rotten. I loved my freedom and the variety of dick EEMM allowed me to sample.
But I wouldn’t mind hearing those words like the older Mr. Chesterfield had spoken.
Yeah, I had a praise kink, I’d recently learned, but I refused to be ashamed of that shit even though my insides wanted to cringe. It had taken a whole two minutes to recognize where it stemmed from.
Micah had gotten all the affirmation in our household growing up—for his good grades, amazing athletic ability, and even better behavior while I’d been a terror who couldn’t focus worth a shit and always tripped over my own feet.
I would never measure up to my big brother, but goddamnit, I’d put in major dedication and hard work to help build the gay branch of Elite. While I’d yet to be recognized for my effort outside my big bro’s occasional, “Good job,” I’d planned my next step that would take me to his level of professionalism.
An MBA like the one hanging on his office wall. One sheet of paper declaring I’d finished a two-year college program and had accomplished something worthy of making our pop proud of his younger son, who’d only ever been compared to Micah and found lacking.
Sure, I’d secretly failed out at my first attempt at college while fresh out of high school, more focused on cock and beer than classes, but I’d grown up since. Back then, I’d claimed to my family and friends that I’d dropped out to save my parents’ money. Some didn’t see how I’d matured from lying my way through life, so I would be stubborn as fuck and prove myself capable.
I exited the hotel, taking note of the pink and purple streaks in the deep blue sky overhead as August’s muggy heat prickled my skin with sweat. My ass didn’t ache like I preferred after bottoming, but at least my balls had emptied.
An early Saturday night for a change.
