Thanksgiving Secrets

I woke up to the familiar silence of our condo on the 15th floor, the absence of nature's sounds was a stark reminder of the urban life we embraced. The sounds of birds in the morning are replaced with the faint sounds of our neighbors, who, once again, have the volume way too loud. I let it go. I only notice it when I pay attention. 

Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, my mind a whirlpool of disbelief over the events of the past few days. The Halloween party, a night that was supposed to be nothing more than a fun escape, had spiraled into a labyrinth of sin, temptation, and unexpected encounters that now played on an endless loop in my head.

It was both a blessing and a curse, that night. A blessing in that it made me feel alive, and desired in a way that was thrillingly different. Not that Ethan doesn't make me feel wanted; he does, but it's different with him, more familiar, less charged with the electricity of the unknown. The party was a deluge of flirtations, each one a sip from a fountain of youth, rejuvenating and intoxicating.

I remembered Lance's gaze, intense and unapologetic. He was Ares incarnate at the party, the god of war, exuding a fierce, almost primal magnetism. And there I was, caught in his sight, feeling like a prey yet not entirely unwilling. His eyes roamed over me, a visual caress that suggested more than just idle interest. In those moments, it felt like he wanted to tear away my costume, to reveal and claim the person beneath. The idea was exhilarating. There was a rawness in his desire that I hadn't experienced in a long time, a reminder of a part of myself I had almost forgotten. 

The way Lance selected me as his champion, with a gesture both grandiose and deliberate, had an air of ancient ritual to it. He had me seated on a stool right next to his throne, in a position that blurred the lines between honor and servitude. It was a strategic placement, one that kept me close at his side, a visual extension of his commanding presence as Ares. 

His hand rested on my shoulder and neck with a weight that felt like possession, a silent declaration to all. It was as if he was marking his territory, staking a claim over my body with a touch that lingered with a sense of entitlement.

As the event progressed, I felt increasingly like a showcased trophy, an object of both admiration and envy. His hand, resting casually yet firmly on my shoulder, served as a constant reminder of the role I had unwittingly slipped into. I was part of the spectacle, bound to his side. A participant in the game, and a possession. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but now, in retrospect. I liked it. 

I had called him a “sexy daddy,” Twice. But that only scratches the surface. That’s what you see at a distance. As you get closer, it’s only amplified by his power and influence, not to mention his wealth.

The on its own is innocent enough, but the events in the maze with Liam and TJ. Being taken by them. It served to amplify it. You would think I had gotten my fill, but no. Their activity lit a fire in me. I wanted more. I remember dreaming that very night that it was Lance taking me and not Ethan. A dream that has been nearly a nightly occurrence.  

It all comes together to create the simultaneous sensation of regret and gratefulness that I didn’t get to give Lance that private tour of the maze. I have no doubt that he would have fucked me in there as well. Or pushed me to my knees and made me worship his cock like the god he is. It would totally be in his personality to do it. That I am sure. And I would have. I like to think I wouldn’t, but I know I would be lying to myself.  I was so intoxicated with him, I would have gladly gotten down on my knees and serviced that daddy’s cock. I’d have poured so much into it, that he wouldn’t be satisfied by just one taste. I was even thrilled by the idea, he might have noticed I had already been fucked that evening. Would he just automatically assume it was Ethan? Or would he wonder if there were others? Would his jealous and possessive nature take over? Would he have fucked me just to lay claim over me? It makes my cock twitch and gives my ass a tingle every time I think about it. 

Ethan's side of the bed was empty, his early morning routine unbroken despite the chaos of our lives. Whether it was the gym calling him or the office, he always managed to slip away before dawn, leaving me entangled in the sheets and my thoughts. Not that I minded, it allowed me to start the day at my own pace. I could lounge around the condo in my underwear, killing time until my first appointment. 

I have my studio, conveniently located just a short distance from our condo. It's a space that's wholly mine, embodying the many facets of my work and passion. It serves as an office, where I can lock myself away from distractions and touch up the photos from my latest shoot. It’s a small warehouse where I can store equipment, props, and supplies. And a stage where the magic of photography unfolds. I’ve become quite adept at transforming the space over the past few years. The stockpile of junk in my warehouse is a testament to it. 

In all, the studio isn't much in terms of grandeur or scale, but it's mine, and that's what truly counts. I tried working from home, but it quickly proved to be an impractical arrangement. At home the distractions are plentiful, and the boundary between personal life and work becomes too blurred. 

Especially once Ethan moved into my condo. The challenge of maintaining focus at home escalated. Ethan has this effortless way of derailing my concentration, completely unintentional. It’s not his fault I’m easily distracted by a sculpted body. All it takes is for him to walk into the room without his shirt on, and suddenly, my work is the furthest thing from my mind. His presence, while always welcome, turns my discipline to dust.

So, having a separate studio space is not just a luxury; it's a necessity. It's my escape, a place where I can dive into my work without the interruptions of a domestic life. 

I'd make my way to the studio at some point in the day. That's the dual nature of working for yourself – the beauty lies in the freedom to decide your schedule, to choose when to dive into work, and when to take a step back. In theory, it's the perfect setup, allowing for a balance between professional and personal life.

However, the reality of self-employment is often different from the idealized version. You find yourself working more hours than you initially expected. There's a constant hunt for new projects and an unending cycle of seeking out clients to ensure a steady flow of work. In a field like photography, where competition is fierce, keeping an eye on what others are doing becomes a necessity. You can't afford to lag behind, lest you miss out on trends or opportunities.

Fortunately, I've been able to supplement my income with a variety of passive income sources, which has been a game-changer in the unpredictable world of freelance photography. I ventured into setting up and selling stock photos, a market that, surprisingly, has a robust demand. Alongside that, I've tapped into the print-on-demand market for some of my more popular photographs. These range from intricate paintings to eye-catching posters in various sizes – there's something about seeing a still moment captured in time, magnified and framed, that people seem to love.

I handle the initial legwork – selecting the right images, cleaning them up for print, and ensuring they meet the quality standards. Once that's done, it's a matter of uploading these polished images to various online platforms. I use sites like Amazon and Etsy, which have vast customer bases, to reach a wider audience. The process sounds simple – upload and wait for the sales to roll in – but it's a bit more complex than that. There's a lot of behind-the-scenes work involved: market research, keyword optimization, pricing strategies, and customer interactions.

Despite the oversimplification, this approach does provide a steady stream of income. It's reassuring to know that even when I'm not actively working on a project, there's still revenue trickling in. 

Then there's the less glamorous side of running a business – the administrative tasks that never seem to end. Paying bills, managing expenses, keeping track of invoices, and the ever-looming tax obligations. These tasks can be mundane and time-consuming, but they are as crucial as the creative aspect of the job.

I met Reiley at our usual coffee shop, greeting my favorite cute barista, Nico on my way in. He was already there, his laptop open but forgotten. 

“So?” Reiley asked, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “How did your meeting with Lance go?” His interest had peaked the moment he found out about the meeting, insisting we meet immediately afterward as if he was anticipating some juicy details.

“Better than I could have hoped,” I replied, settling into the chair across from him. “What he’s looking for is going to take a lot of time. And I won’t be able to bill him by the hour. But that’s okay with the compensation package we’ve settled on. I’m beginning to see what you mean about the benefits of playing their games.”

Reiley raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Really now? If I didn’t already know what you mean, I would be tempted to ask which games you’re referring to. With the way you were looking at him at the party, one might think you meant something else entirely.”

I felt a flush of warmth on my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and surprise. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit defensive. It was true, there had been a certain... tension between Lance and me at the party, but I hadn’t realized it was so apparent to others.

Reiley leaned forward, his expression turning more serious. “Lucas, come on. It was pretty obvious to anyone paying attention. The way he had his hand on you, the looks you two exchanged. It was like watching a dance of seduction. I’m not judging, mind you. But are you sure this is just about business?”

I couldn’t help but smirk at his comment, finding a bit of humor and hypocrisy in it. “Pot meet Kettle,” I quipped back.

Reiley owned the observation with pride, but then he shifted gears. “This isn’t about me, Lucas. Are you sure this is something you want to do? Once you start down that road...” His voice trailed off, leaving the warning hanging in the air.

“Two percent,” I replied, almost instinctively. At Reiley's puzzled look, I elaborated, “Lance offered me two percent of the company. Double my going rate, plus expenses with a markup. The primary requirement is that his project takes top priority. I keep Josh and the marketing guys stocked with whatever images they want.”

Reiley’s eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and realization dawning on his face. “That’s... significant.”

“We spent over two hours going over my portfolio. The guy is thorough. I probably shouldn’t have, but I even showed him some of the more risqué photos I’ve taken over the years. Honestly, I think those are what sealed the deal.”

Reiley raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and intrigue on his face. "Well, that's a bold move. But it sounds like it paid off?"

I nodded, feeling a surge of pride. "It did. Lance has an eye for artistry, and I guess he appreciates a... let's say, a bolder approach. It's a bit outside of what I usually display, but those shots are some of my best work, just not the most public."

"That's great, Lucas," Reiley said, his voice genuine. "It takes guts to put yourself out there like that. And it looks like Lance recognized that."

I sipped my coffee, the rich bitterness a stark contrast to the sweetness of the potential new venture. "Yeah, it's a step in a new direction, but it feels right. And with Lance backing me? The sky's the limit. I've seen the line, Reiley. His son is good. I mean, Lance is right, Trey has no eye for marketing. But I don’t need to worry about that since Lance controls everything. If this does even a fraction of what I expect, I’ll double my passive income in the next year. Likely more.”

“That’s huge, Lucas. But are you comfortable with the terms? With the... involvement?” Reiley’s concern was evident, his role as a friend and confidant taking precedence over any excitement about the deal.

I took a moment, letting the weight of his question sink in. “I am,” I finally said. “I know what I'm getting into. Lance may blur lines, but I know where I stand. This isn’t just about money. It’s about growth, about taking my business to a level I’ve only dreamed of.”

Reiley studied me for a moment, then slowly nodded, a supportive smile creeping onto his face. “Alright then, no one knows what you are capable of handling better than yourself. Just remember, I’m here if you need to talk, or if things get... complicated. Not that they haven’t already gone way further than I ever expected you to take it. And in public no less. But BRAVO man. I am impressed.”

My heart leapt at his comment, the affirmation from a friend who understood the nuances of my life meaning more than I could express. But before I could respond, Reiley continued with a teasing glint in his eye. "Don’t look at me like that," he said. "I saw you come out of the maze. You had the ‘freshly fucked’ look on your face. Still living in the afterglow were we?”

I felt a flush of heat at his words, the memories of that night in the maze flooding back. It had been a moment of unbridled passion, a path I never thought I'd tread, especially not in such a public setting. I tried to muster a defense, a joke, anything to deflect, but words failed me.

“So, what was it like? Was your daddy everything you hoped he would be?” He asked. 

“What? No.” I protested. 

“Oh.” He replied. Misunderstanding my protest. “Sorry, it was disappointing. From the expression on your face, I thought you would answer differently.”

“Fuck, Reiley. Yes, it was great. But.”

“But what Lucas?”

I hesitated for a minute. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell Reiley. I’ve known him long enough that I know full well I can tell him anything, and he would keep my secret. The question was, how to tell him.

“Look, Lucas. You know I am not going to judge. If you had some fun with a sexy daddy. All the more power to you.”

“Look. You’re right. But. It wasn’t with HIM.” I finally replied. 

The look combined look of surprise and shock on his face was priceless, I cursed myself for not pulling out my camera before I broke that bit of news to him. 

“Then who? I know it wasn’t Ethan. I talked to him while you were inside.”

“TJ,” I answered, intending to give him both names. But he didn’t give me the chance. 

“BRAVO LUCAS! I am impressed.” 

“And Liam.” 

“You went from being ready to consider an open relationship, to having a three-way. In a maze. Without Ethan. Not one hundred feet from Ethan. In the course of a few weeks.” He said, punctuating each point. “I’m guessing he does not know about it?”

“Yes, and I’m still not ready to be in an open relationship. Like. I know that’s the next logical step. But…” I screamed in my head. Not wanting to admit it, but knowing I needed to. “I’m just not ready to share him yet.”

“Greedy bitch.” Reiley said in the most loving and sarcastic way. “I get it. I was the same way. It’s one thing to have your own fun but to know your man is out there having his too. It’s a lot to take in. Especially when just starting out.”

“I mean, yes, but it’s a bit more than that. He’s still so damn reserved with me. Fuck. You know. I’ve explained it all before. I’m just not sure how I would handle it to learn to learn he wasn’t like that with other people.”

“Lucas. Stop. I get it. You don’t need to explain. Just, a word of advice. Go slow with it. Figure out what you want before you end up with something you didn’t.”

“Meaning what? He finds out that I cheated and leaves me?” I asked. 

“No. We both know Ethan is way too forgiving for that to happen. He may be hurt, he may be fine with it. You never know. What I mean is, speaking from experience. I broke our rules more times than I should, and developed a kink for it.”

“You mean like fucking your clients?” I teased, just as Nico walked over and set my coffee down in front of me. From the smile on his face, I knew he heard at least some, if not all of what we were talking about. 

“You didn’t order, you never go without, so I figured I would bring it over.” He offered as an explanation. 

“Thank you,” I replied, trying my best to hide how embarrassed I was at the revelation. He smiled back and walked away. I couldn’t help but watch his ass. 

“Someone has a crush on you,” Reiley teased. “And you like him too. But that right there bestie is what I am talking about.”

“What?” I asked. 

“You’re more open about your flirtations now. You need to be more careful about doing that. Get comfortable enough with it and you might do it in front of Ethan by mistake. And if you haven’t yet had the conversation with him. He might take it another way.”

Reiley was right. I did need to get myself under control. “So what do I do? Just go back to how things were before?”

“No. I didn’t say that. Just, slow down. You’re like a kid who was just let loose in a candy factory. Eat too much and you’ll make yourself sick. Instead. Look at it as an opportunity to browse and explore. Sampling only the finest options.”

“Like Declan?”

“Yes. Exactly like Declan. That man can fuck me any time he wants to. Even if I wasn’t actively trying to sell his aunt a new house. That’s just an added bonus. Now if letting him nail my ass any time he wants helps me get the listing for his grandmother’s house when she sells it. All the better. That place is a gold mine.”

“I see what you mean about mixing business with pleasure. It has its benefits.” I looked at Nico again. “But, does it always need to be about business?” I asked pleadingly. 

“No.” He answered. “Not always, just don’t overindulge. And don’t get so comfortable with it that you don’t even realize you are doing it. However, I see the appeal with that one. He looks like he would be fun.”

“We can share him.” I quipped back, drawing a laugh out of both of us. Which in turn caused Nico to look in our direction, smiling when he saw we were both looking at him. I suspect he had some idea of what we were talking about. 

An idea occurred to me. One I doubt I would have had the guts for previously. I reached into my bag and extracted a business card. “I’ll be right back,” I told Reiley, and then went to talk to Nico. 

“Hey, Lucas. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys.”

“Quite alright Nico.”

“How can I help you?”

“Question, and please feel free to say no. Have you ever considered modeling? I’m helping coordinate a new project and need to find some talent.”

“What kind?” He asked, with a legitimate interest in his voice. 

“Athletic wear, Swimwear, and Underwear. I hope it’s not too personal to say, but you look like you might have the body for it.”

I offered him my card which he quickly accepted. “Yeah, I could always use some extra money. And um. Thank you for the opportunity and the compliment. I assume you will be the photographer.”

“Yep. Look you don’t need to decide now. Think about it and send me a text message if you decide you’re interested.”

“Will do. Thanks.” He replied. I noticed someone step up behind me, waiting in line. 

“I’ll let you get back to work. Text me either way.” I told him and then headed back to Reiley who immediately asked. 

“What was that all about.”

“Mixing business and pleasure. Add talent scout to my list of services.” I joked and then challenged him. “Tell me he wouldn’t make a good model for the line. Obviously, Lance will need to approve.”

“There is no way Lance is going to say no to him being one of the models. Especially if he can see him in various states of undress.” He then bore into me with his eyes challenging me to deny his next request. “You ARE going to let your bestest bestie hang out and observe, right?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.