The sleepy young man rolled over in the dark, feeling around for his cell phone. It was 2:00 am, but phone calls in the middle of the night were typical. His hand found the small device on the fourth ring.

'Bond West,' he answered.

The caller hesitated, then spoke nervously. 'Yeah, um, hi. Uh, I heard about you and wanted to make an appointment.'

'Sure,' Bond replied courteously. He always presented a friendly, confident tone toward his customers. In this business it didn't pay to piss people off. Inquiring about the details of where and when, he scribbled down the information, ended the call, and got out of bed. He had forty-five minutes to clean up and reach his destination. He left his bedroom, walked into the bath across the hall, and turned on the shower. When it felt good and warm he stepped behind the curtain, quickly getting wet. As he rinsed shampoo out of his hair he heard a voice in the room.

'Another late call?' asked his roommate, Brent. 'What is it this time, an old lady can't sleep? Somebody needs a bath?' The steady sound of peeing accompanied the questions.

'I don't know,' Bond lied. 'I'll find out when I get there.' He'd found it convenient to mask his real activity by explaining to his roommate, and anyone who asked, that he worked for a home healthcare company. Part of the job was being on call anytime someone needed help. Nobody wondered why he might be at home any time of the day, or out any time of the night. The fact that he'd studied healthcare in college made it that much easier to talk about disease and discomfort, usually to the point people stopped asking questions. Make it gross enough, he figured out, and they didn't want to know any more.

Rinsing off the remainder of the soap, he pushed back the shower curtain and plucked a towel from the stack on top of the toilet tank. Brent stood looking in the mirror, messing with his dark, longish hair.

Bond dried himself, unconcerned with his nudity. He and Brent had seen each other naked plenty of times during the eighteen months they'd been roommates. They'd met at one of the gay bars in town, became friends, then moved in together to save expenses a few months later. Other friends assumed it was a relationship, but it hadn't gone that way. True, Bond and Brent had messed around with each other a little bit, but they'd never fucked. Both were attractive, around the same age, 25, similar trim builds, although Brent's abs showed a more pronounced six-pack. As he dragged the towel around his body Bond looked Brent over. He never got tired of looking at his roommate, especially when he was almost naked.

Even though a relationship hadn't developed, Bond had feelings for Brent. Nothing deep or soulful, but heartfelt; good friends who were there for each other. It didn't hurt that Brent was a hottie. Bond let his eyes wander up from Brent's bare feet to his muscular legs, past the boxers he wore, the tight, defined stomach and chest, finally the handsome face. Bond's cock stirred slightly, but he ignored it.

As it suddenly dawned on him that he needed to go back to bed, Brent let his hair go and walked out of the bathroom. Bond returned to his own room to dress, heard the squeak of Brent's mattress, then the rustle of the covers. He'd be asleep again in moments.

Bond left the apartment and began his drive. It wasn't too far across town, and traffic was understandably light at that time of night. He guessed about twenty minutes to reach his destination. Turning the radio on low, Bond thought to himself as he drove. For almost a year now he'd been making a living as a rent boy. Life as a hooker hadn't been a goal, but neither had been working sixty-hour weeks for crappy pay at a downtown health clinic. After mopping up urine and vomit from the ten thousandth wino to stumble in the door he'd had enough. A few weeks earlier a friend had jokingly suggested Bond was hot enough to sell his ass and make a lot of money, plus set his own hours. The offbeat idea came to him again about two weeks later when an older man approached him at a bar and brazenly offered $50 to suck his cock. After thinking it over he'd said yes. At the time it had both frightened and aroused him, the perceived illegality of it becoming a sexual stimulant he'd not encountered before. Unfortunately for the guy paying, Bond lasted only a minute before firing off down the cocksucker's throat. He was almost shocked when the guy smiled, said thanks, and handed him the money. After that the next time was easy. He gave notice at the clinic.

Word seemed to get around, at least in the circles of men who hired other men for sex, as they began to share the cell phone number and description of the new, hot guy on the market. At least one thing his friend had said proved to be wrong, there wasn't any way to set his own hours. Calls would come day or night, so it was either risk getting a bad reputation for making people wait, or saying yes to anyone who had the cash. Still, he'd walked on three or four guys who turned out to be too disgustingly filthy to touch. Bond was a whore, but he wouldn't endure lice to make a go of it. He was staying plenty busy with cleaner guys.

The client tonight had sounded young, but sometimes phone voices were deceiving. Bond didn't mind young guys, but if they were paying for sex it usually meant one of two things, and sometimes both; they were either way overweight or unattractive. Older guys weren't always in good shape, but as long as they were clean he'd show them a good time. He couldn't afford to be too choosey, after all.

The directions were accurate enough and he found the apartment without too much searching. He lightly tapped on the door.

As the door opened and low light spilled out onto the walkway, a lean, male figure appeared. Bond smiled as he took in his client's appearance. A slightly shaggy hair cut, dishwater blond, framed a cute, angular face, boyishly trim neck, shoulders, and bare chest. A pair of cargo shorts hung obscenely low on narrow hips, followed by bare feet. He looked totally smooth in the dim light. Bond guessed him to be about 22, maybe 23.

'Hi, I'm Bond. You called about an hour ago?'

'Uh, yeah. Come in,' the young man offered.

With the door shut and locked behind them, the two stood and continued to size each other up.

'What's your name?' Bond asked, removing and dropping his jacket across the end of the sofa, then kicking off his shoes.


'Nice to meet you, Scott.' Bond could sense the nervous tension in the air. 'This your first time with a guy?'

The question came as a surprise. 'What?!'

'No offense,' said Bond, 'you just seem really nervous.'

'Oh, uh...I've been with guys, just not a...' Scott began to explain, stopping short.

'Just not a whore?' Bond offered as completion. He looked Scott in the eye and smiled broadly.

'Semantics,' he added. 'Whore, prostitute, escort, what difference does it make? I don't concern myself with labels.'

Scott gave a little laugh. 'Whatever, dude. But you're right, not with a whore before.'

'So why call one tonight?' Bond wanted to know. 'You're pretty hot, I bet you've got guys lined up willing to give it to you for free.'

'A couple of buds come around often enough,' Scott answered, 'but...'


'They're both bottoms; can't help me tonight. I wanted something different.'

Bond understood. 'Ok, I get it. You want to get fucked; let down your guard for an hour and stop being the top, but don't want the whole world to know about it.'

'Something like that,' agreed Scott, his eyes darting to the floor.

With all his experience Bond knew what direction to start in, then see if he'd get the reaction he expected. Walking to Scott, then stepping behind him, Bond reached out and wrapped his arm around the chest of the semi-naked client. His other hand went to his waist. With little resistance the shorts were pushed off Scott's hips, piling up over his feet. Bond pulled back roughly, almost knocking him off balance. His tight embrace held them together.

'You're gonna get fucked, you little bitch,' Bond whispered. His free hand came down hard on Scott's naked ass. SMACK!

'AH!' Scott squeaked. A second swat stung his ass even harder. He shuddered, but made no sound.

'Gonna fuck your bitch hole until you scream,' Bond stated menacingly, playing out the role he believed was the intended fantasy of the young man in his grasp. Scott wordlessly confirmed it when he offered no resistance as Bond pushed him toward the bedroom.

Pushed roughly forward, Scott fell face down over the side of the bed. Turning to one side, propped on his elbow, he watched Bond undress down to his tight briefs. The black fabric bulged out under pressure from his half-hard cock. Bond already knew he'd enjoy fucking Scott, even if he wasn't getting paid to do it.

Bond approached the bed and stepped between Scott's legs. Taking a wider stance, he forced Scott's legs apart, grabbing the upturned ass with both hands.

'Fucking hot ass,' Bond hissed. 'My cock is gonna love it.' Another loud smack rang out as the open palm of his hand made contact with Scott's butt cheek.

The sharp instance of pain caused Scott to wince, taking in a quick breath. His mind reeled with sensations and thoughts of what was happening, but the scene was exactly what he wanted.

'You're gonna fuck me? I don't know if I...' Scott resisted, his statement cut short by another hard slap to his ass. 'AAHHH!'

'I didn't ask you!' Bond commanded. 'I'm telling you. Your bitch ass it taking my cock!'

Wadding the bed linens with both hands, Scott nestled his face into them, blocking out his vision. He wanted to hear and feel what was happening to him, but not see it, maintaining a voluntary element of surprise. His knees drew up below him, raising his ass for Bond's assault.

'Good,' Bond praised.

Scott heard the slight sound of Bond's briefs sliding off, the return of both hands to his reddening flesh, and the new sensation of Bond's hard cock as it stroked against the crack of his ass. Oozing precum left a slimy trail, becoming slicker and slicker as the cock moved up and down. Scott moaned low as the hard, warm cock teased his ass. Taking his cock in hand, Bond pushed inward toward Scott's inviting hole. He slowly rubbed the head of his cock around the puckered entrance. Precum continued to flow until it felt like enough lube to push in deeper. Bond exerted enough pressure to begin stretching Scott open, but stopped before the head of his cock went inside. The idea was tempting, especially with a such a hot guy. Scott was thinking the same thing.

Scott turned his head to the side enough to speak. 'You can fuck me bare, dude. It's ok.'

Bond didn't answer. He knew better than to trust a trick. Reaching to the side, he picked up a condom he'd already opened and deftly rolled it down his cock. It was lubed, but they both needed more. Next, he picked up the lube, drizzling it over his now latex-covered cock as he started a rhythm of thrusts to Scott's hole. The head of his cock entered Scott's ass.

Scott tensed, but didn't fight it. Muffled sounds emanated from the bed as Bond pressed forward and back, taking small fuck strokes while continuing to drip lube along his cock. Before long he was in deep.

Still tense, Scott felt the length of Bond's cock slide out, then all the way back in. It hurt, but not too much. He felt it again, this time with less pain. By the third long stroke it felt good. He pushed himself up onto his hands and looked back. Bond looked right into his eyes and gave an extra hard thrust.

'Shit!' Scott whined.

'Give it up, you cunt,' Bond demanded. 'You love getting fucked, don't you?' He picked up the tempo, fucking a little faster.

'Yes,' Scott replied weakly.

Bond shoved hard and deep into the body of his client. 'I couldn't hear you. What do you like?'

'I like to get fucked,' Scott said softly.


'I like to get fucked!' louder this time.

'Then let's fuck!' Bond said through gritted teeth.

He began a hard, pounding, full stroke rhythm, his concrete cock taking Scott's ass this way for several minutes. Each rough push inside made Scott moan, his breathing ragged.

'God damn it!' Scott squealed.

'Take it, fucking bitch!' Bond returned, fueling the fire.

'Fuck my cunt ass!'

Bond was loving the intensity, by far his best fuck in a long time. Too bad, he was getting close to cumming.

'Fuck it, I'm gonna cum!' he announced.

'Cream my hole!' Scott begged.

Bond's body turned solid as his cock drove in deep, the hair around his cock matted into the sweat and lube surrounding Scott's asshole. Holding deep for a second or two, he felt the first thick wad of cum shoot out of his cock, then another and another as he returned to fucking in and out. He shuddered under the intensity of his orgasm, almost losing his balance, but remaining fully engulfed in Scott's clenching tunnel.

As the fuck thrusts slowed Scott raised up and grabbed his own rigid cock. 'Stay in me, dude!' he pleaded, his hand a blur as it quickly stroked.

Scott's orgasm hit him hard, his ass tightening even further on Bond's still-hard cock, almost forcing it out. The first volley of cum flew out into the air, lost among the sheets.

'Fuck!' Scott managed to say between shots, the last couple rolling down over his knuckles and onto his balls. The two males held their positions, taking deep breaths, hearts pounding in their sweaty chests.

Scott broke the silence. 'Ok, dude, you gotta pull out, feels like a log up my ass.'

Bond smiled silently, pulled slowly halfway out, then deep in once more.

'Fuck!' Scott whined, 'I said out, dude.'

'I want you to remember it,' Bond snarled into Scott's ear.

The next ten minutes were spent cleaning up, getting dressed, and getting paid, but not much talk.

Bond handed Scott a plain, white card with his name and number on it as he was showed to the door. 'Hope you had a good time. Call me again.'

'Definitely, dude. Awesome fuck,' Scott said smiling.

The drive home was uneventful, and he was back in bed by 4:30 am. Around 6:30 he heard Brent showering for work, then leaving a little after 7:00. He slept off and on until the phone rang at 9:30.

'Bond West,' he answered.



Russell S.

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