I said 'yes'. I said yes to a lot of things in those first three years as a male supermodel. I said yes to Versace, YSL, D&G, Burberry, Luis Vitton and Armani. I said yes to sex with Rafael, for the first time on Hugo's birthday the year I left home. I said yes to being unfaithful, and smoking and beer and cocaine. I said yes to it all...
I woke up with my head half hanging off the bed. I had a raging headache and as I lifted my head, dizziness overtook me and I grabbed at the sheets. Instead I wrapped my finger around something hard and bony. It was an ankle.
'Good morning,' said an unfamiliar American voice from the head end of the bed.
I propped myself up on my elbows to see who it was. I didn't recognize him. But drawing on his sharp features and ripped torso he must have been from the Etro campaign launch party the previous night.
'What's good about it?' I said clutching my forehead.
He sat up against the leather headboard, slid the sheets off my already naked body, grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me towards him.
'This,' he smiled.
My ass rested in Mr blonde hair and blue eye's lap and my legs spread on either side of his waist. He licked his middle and forefinger of his right hand and traced circles on my pink hole, while his left hand took hold of my cock and began stroking it. He inserted his fingers deep into my rectum and began massaging my prostate. I moaned slightly and arched my back, lifting my ass and further impaling myself on his long fingers. He pulled back my foreskin, lowered his head and licked the pre-cum from the tip and took my cock head into his mouth, circling the crown with his tongue. He removed his fingers from my behind and pulled me up so that I was positioned right above his thin but long cock. He reached for his jeans on the bedside table and removed a condom from the back pocket. He tore open the packaging with his teeth and with some struggle rolled the condom over his pink cock. I sat down on his pole and let the large bulbous head slip in. I didn't wince as I sat down on his cock completely, my ass still stretched from the previous night's activities.
'You're so fucking hot,' he gasped as his cock became completely surrounded by the heat of my bowels.
'Just fuck me,' as I said.
He held me under my thighs, slightly lifting my light body and started fucking me deeply. Every thrust stretched from cock head to hilt. I leaned into him and rested my elbows on his shoulders. He inclined his head towards mine for a kiss but I diverted his lips to my neck instead. I didn't kiss anybody anymore, except Rafael.
After 10 minutes of face-to-face fucking I climbed off of his dick, turned around and positioned myself on my knees. He stood behind me, lowered himself and penetrated my rosebud from the back. This time he fucked me hard and fast. The depth of each thrust more irregular and his scrotum slapped against my perineum. He released one hand from my waist, spat on his palm, and once again took hold of my pecker. He stroked me until I came all over the sheets in large spurts of cum. After five minutes my backdoor lover bucked fiercely as he reached orgasm inside me. Once he had completely pumped his load into the condom I removed myself from the bed, put on my clothes and left the apartment in which the guy lived. I immediately flagged down a taxi outside the apartment building and told the driver the address of the building in which I lived.
'Fuck, shit, fuck!' When did I start cussing so furiously? Rafael is going to be so upset, he always gets so mad if I don't come home after parties. He's such a good boyfriend; it's a pity I have to lie to him so much, telling him I stayed with a friend all those nights. But no, I'm either blowing some important board executive, or masturbating a photographer or being fucked by a model that very often can't even speak English. It's not like I even enjoy it. Sex with Rafael is good though. I try to please him. He's been so good to me these past three years. I do owe him some honesty...oh who am I kidding! I'm so fucking beyond honesty it makes me want to throw up.
The taxi stopped outside the old apartment building. I got out and rushed inside, up the elevator and into the apartment. Rafael was in the kitchen.
'Alex, is that you,' called Rafael from the kitchen, 'when I returned from the Jockey dinner at around midnight you still weren't back from Etro. I waited up until...'
I strode into the kitchen, tiptoed and kissed him on the lips, twice.
'Yeah I know, I'm sorry. I slept at Donna's place. It was just up the road and we were so tired. You know how it gets. What are you making?' I said, tilting the bowl to see what was in it.
'Omelet's, now go and shower and brush the smell of booze off your lips and by then your breakfast will be ready,' instructed Rafael, kissing me on the forehead and nudging me out of the kitchen.
I went into my room and noticed a magazine on my bed. It was opened to an interview Rafael and I had done two weeks ago about our relationship and lives together. I clearly recalled all of the questions the journalist had asked, especially the last one:
'Are you happy?' asked the interviewer.
'Very much so,' answered Rafael with a huge, uncomplicated smile stretched across his face.
'Yes,' I lied, 'I'm...we're very happy,'
I undressed and stepped into the bathroom. The good thing about a shower was that one could cry in it without anybody noticing. The sound deafens the sobs and the water camouflages the tears.