I turned 28 in November 2020, and as the year turned to 2021, I got pretty jaded about working at the law firm. I didn't feel like they'd looked after me very well during the pandemic, and after three years I felt it was time for a change. I enrolled in a full-time, one year Master's degree programme at a good London university. It was due to start in the September, so I planned to stop working in June and spend a couple of months travelling over Summer.
I confess I began to radiate a "zero fucks" attitude at work. Once back in the office a few days a week, I was passive-aggressively asked if my beard was a bit full-on for an office setting, and whether I should let my hair grow back to a more professional style. My beard was indeed big, full and thick, but I had it professionally trimmed and shaped every month or so and kept my neck clean of whiskers, so I thought it looked pretty sharp. And I enjoyed my Grade 1 buzzcut. So I studiously ignored the feedback. In fact, I doubled-down by permenantly swapping out my discrete silver ear stud for the silver ring I usually kept for weekends and holidays. I also took to rolling up my sleeves in the office to show off the Turkish silver cuff I habitually wore and the collection of tattoos around my right forearm. Fuck 'em. A couple of weeks before I went travelling, I was in Camden Town and, on a whim, got my eleventh tattoo on my left calf.
If you'd like to read about my "Summer of Love", check out Chapter 6 of "Backpacking Butt Slut".
****
I had a few weeks to get organised and earn some more dosh when I returned to London at the end of August 2021. I got my books and learning resources organised, upgraded my laptop and refreshed my escort profiles. Now unemployed, I was intending to devote my spare time to sex work to maintain my income and pay the bills. I figured I should be able to bank on a grand a week, without paying any tax on it; some weeks would be slow, some would be busy, some clients would be super-generous, and some weeks I'd want to take off. Now I was on PrEP as well as getting monthly screens, I could tap into the market's growing appetite for raw anal which should increase my demand. I also renewed my connections with a couple of other guys and girls I'd met and put myself out there for three-ways and groups. I got a new halo lamp and a couple of cheap webcams, then ramped up the cam work as well, and though I was still too chicken to do it without a bally on, I got a little stream of income from cum-stained undies, jocks and wank-socks.
I got the barber to sharpen up my beard and grade 1 buzzcut, and then the semester started.
****
My dump-and-go client was happy when I messaged him that I was back in town, and his weekly quickies (and occasional longies) resumed. He booked me for another house party as well, and this time I shared the bed with the piggy young twink who'd hungrily swallowed the loads I'd shat into his mouth on the last occasion. He and I lay side by side in the dim red light as my host and his guests used us both over the course of the night, and we both got well-filled.
In the small hours of the morning, my piggy twinky friend had passed out. A new guy came in - he must have only just arrived - and pulled off his jeans, undies and trainers. Dressed in a tshirt and socks, he started feeling the twink up. I'd been fucked while semi-conscious and maybe even unconscious before, and while I got over it, that didn't mean I thought it was OK, and I was feeling protective towards the lad. So I murmered "Not him mate, he's out. Use me." The guy nodded and shrugged, and I sucked him for a few minutes before getting on all fours so he could mount me, my chute oozing biological lube. I sucked him clean once he'd injected his dose up me.
My main man came in again a little later, with a friend, both naked. It sounded like things had wound down considerably, with most of the guests having left or passed out. The main man checked on the twink to make sure he was OK while his friend - a lean-bodied, long-haired scruff - crept up the bed and started to kiss me deeply. My main man get between my legs as I lay on my back, slid up inside me and started to fuck. To my surprise, the scruffy lad - already steel hard, and long - got up and nestled behind my top, and I saw the punter's eyes roll back as he moaned. Fuckin' hell, the scruff was penetrating my favourite bull, and soon the scruff's thrusts amplified the bull's into my sloppy cunt. It was mad hot, and though I'd cum a couple of times already, my cock rapidly hardened and I started to masturbate furiously. The fucking went on for a good 15 minutes before the scruff bred the bull's manhole, and he wrapped his arms around my bull's burly torso and stayed up his ass as my main man fucked faster and faster until he spurted deep inside my sloppy rectum.
My bull slid out of me and both men knelt by my head so I could nurse on their slick softening cocks and suck them clean of juice and slime. My main man got up and squatted over my face. His wet hairy asshole winked down at me and I started to lick and probe it eagerly as he grabbed my ankles and pulled them right back so the scruffy dude could shuffle down and lock his lips around my swollen, protruding sphincter and start to suck the some of the accumulated loads out. As I pushed down with my guts to make them flow for him, the main punter's anus started to pulse and flare before, with a wet fart, a trickle of the scruff's warm semen flowed out over my tongue and lips. I started to lick up and swallow what was being offered while continuing to jerk off, and finally I was treated to a shuddering relief and a drizzle of thin seed.
****
My mate Ryan came back to the UK in the Spring for a visit, and I was one of his friends who put him up while he was in London. He spent a couple of weeks sharing my bed, not because we'd intended to fuck, but because my studio was tiny. We were both naked sleepers anyway, and we naturally fell into having sex. He'd relaxed a bit since I'd last seen him and surprised me by being willing to kiss and suck cock, though he still drew the line at licking ass or getting fucked. Still, we had fun renewing our friendship. Luv ya mate!
****
Through my small network of rent boy contacts, I got invited to join a gay sex party in a large detached house in North London for a pretty decent fee. If you've read Part 7 of "Dude's gotta pay his debts", you'll remember the New Years' Eve sex party scene. Well, this was the inspiration for that. My beard and buzz freshened up, I wore smart black trousers, black leather loafers with invisible socks, and a sharp black formal shirt, the top four buttons undone to show off some hairy chest and the silver glint of my St Christopher's medallion. We four rent boys met at a local pub beforehand, then headed to the host's gaff.
The four of us mixed with the guests and were the first to start making out and stripping off in order to get the party properly started. As I described pretty honestly in that story, I enjoyed six hours of a proper gay sex orgy. The four of us were passed between groups. We sucked and were sucked, we rimmed and got rimmed, we fucked and got fucked. Sometimes I was with one guy, at other times I was with two, three or four. Some guests preferred condoms, while others went bareback all the way.
For one 45 minute stretch, I was kept on all fours on a sofa while six guys lined up behind me and took turns to fuck and breed my shit chute, one by one dumping their generous doses of nut-scum deep up in my rectum until the milky fluid was liberally running out of my gaping cunt and flowing down the back of my sweaty ballsack. My feet, armpits and nipples were well-worshipped over the night and they were made slick with spit and splashes of cum. Occasionally the four of us pros found ourselves with each other and were encouraged to put on an exhibitionist performance.
The action wasn't continuous, and there were short periods of rest where I'd lay back on a sofa, watching the action, getting kissed and gently fondled, or even just chatting with some of the guests. My buzzed scalp, beard and skin were liberally basted in sweat, saliva and semen over the course of several hours and I could barely take a step without some fluids farting out of my hole, but I just luxuriated in it and made no move to wipe off any of the juices. I think I came four times before drifting off into a doze with my head in a guy's lap, my face nuzzled into his hairy wet genitals, at around 3AM.
Less than an hour later, I awoke to the feeling of a mouth on my cock, two fingers in my ass and more spunk splashing on my face and chest. Opening my sticky eyelids, I saw a naked guest finish stroking his stiffie before wandering off. I let the other guest have his fun with my knob while he fingered my battered prostate until he coaxed out a fifth and final shudering orgasm and a meagre teaspoon of thin cum, the last of my supply.
Aching all over, I got up with a groan and found the other guys; the four of us squeezed naked into one of the bathrooms. All of the towels were in a wet dirty pile on the floor, so we used them to wipe each other down as best we could (though nothing could stem the flow of gut-warm semen from our well-used assholes down the insides of our thighs) before setting out to hunt down our clothes. It took us ages to find our kit scattered amongst the sleeping and still-fucking guests so we could get dressed - I never got my undies or little socks back, and I abandoned my shirt because someone had used it to mop some dirty fluids up - and it was gone 4AM by the time we snuck out of the house. I was barefoot and holding my loafers, my bare torso sticky and matted with dried fluids, leaking cum from my ass into my smart trousers, as we staggered out into the street; the others were in similar states of half-dress and anal incontinence. One of us ordered an Uber and we got dropped off at our homes one by one. Luckily it was still early enough for me to avoid prying eyes as I did the walk of shame barefoot and topless across the road to the house and climbed the stairs to my flat.
****
I turned 29 in November 2021 and went home to Sydney for Christmas and New Year. I fancied mixing up my style a bit and I remembered how nice it had been to get my skin really exposed to the Aussie sunshine, so I got out my clippers and did a bit of manscaping, trimming the hair of my chest, abs, pits and pubes but not going smooth. Instead of freshening up my buzzcut I just got the edges tidied and let it grow a bit. The biggest change was I got the barber to shave my beard off completely, and from then on I shaved my face every two or three days for nearly a year. I was a free agent on this trip so didn't have to act like a monk, and I got a nice tan lying on the beach in my Speedos.
By the time I got home in January 2022, my hair was just long enough to restyle, so I took myself to the barber again. If I am completely honest, I'd felt my hair was starting to recede just a little, and though I was a fan of sexy bald guys, I wasn't quite ready for that myself and I wanted a style that would hide the little extra forehead and delay the inevitable for a few more years. After a consult, the barber trimmed and styled my short hair with scissors so it was a more natural-looking crop that followed my hairline, slightly longer on top than on the back and sides, and not as harsh as an all-over buzz. It looked nice with a bit of wax ruffled through it.
****
When the new semester got underway, I got a message from a guy I hadn't met before who said he liked my profile and asked if I did MMF. I said I was bi and well up for it, and he arranged to meet me at my flat. He was in his early 30's, in a suit without a tie, nice looking and fairly fit from what I could see. He had me strip naked while he slipped off his jacket and shoes and lay back on my Murphy bed, and I turned and posed for him like it was some kind of paid audition. He remained clothed but got his cock out and had me suck him to climax, swallowing down his semen, then he lay next to me and watched me jerk my own load out over my abs.
As I lay naked next to him afterwards, he explained that his wife knew he occasionally played around with guys, they'd found my profile together, and she was interested in trying a threeway. OK, sure, whatever!
His wife was cute, and she was obviously nervous the first time I turned up at their home. But after a few G&Ts we got down to it and she seemed to really enjoy herself. I think she liked my clean-cut look much more than she would have liked my more agressive, buzzed hair and lumberjack beard. Her husband and I kissed and touched each other, but it was really all about her and she got to enjoy being spitroasted. We fucked bare, and she was very insistent that I cum right up in her wet quim before her husband did.
My suspicions should have been alerted when they invited me to join them for a weekend at a small cottage just outside of Brighton. The money was good, and over two days we had plenty of sex. I probably came seven or eight times over two days and three nights, and every time she wanted me to load her up. Often, the husband would go after me, unloading in her pussy after I'd bred her, but he never went first.
I reckon "bred" was the operative word, as it soon dawned on me that I was playing the bull. I was tempted to ask but never quite got around to it. I never saw him or them again after that weekend, and I sometimes wonder if there are any little Daveys or Davinas out there that I don't know about...
All of the slutty situations I've found myself in, and this was the one where I most felt like I was meat for hire. In fact, worse than that, I was just a paid sperm donor. It weirded me out a bit, but I got over it pretty quickly. If I'd knocked her up and they wanted to add to their brood by the same dad, they knew where I was. Not saying I would have been up for it, but they never contacted me anyway.
****
I made some really good contacts doing my LLM, and with my short, neat haircut and clean-shaven face, I looked more suitable for the upper-market law firms I was chasing. I got a few good introductions, took out my earring for a while, and started attending job interviews, all suited and booted. When I wasn't job hunting or preparing for interviews, I was working out or seeing punters.
One client, Malcolm, was a guy in his 60's with a very young boyfriend, Scott, who was only 22. Now, I don't know for sure what was really behind that relationship but they did seem genuinely affectionate towards each other. But Malcolm wasn't really into sex anymore, and Scott very much was. He had a lean, toned, athletic physique, a light dusting of chest hair, mid-length mousy hair and a short scruffy beard; he was really cute. Malcom was very keen that Scott be happy and wasn't really bothered if the lad got his kicks elsewhere, but every so often, Malcolm really did like to watch. They sourced their "friends" online together, sometimes using Grindr, Gaydar and Scruff, but had come to the conclusion that paid escorts were more reliable, and Malcolm wasn't short of a quid or two. They found me online and agreed I looked right for them, so they arranged for me to come over.
They lived in a grand mansion block apartment in Battersea right near the river, very elegantly decorated and furnished, and something told me that it wasn't all Malcolm, that Scott had input too, which reinforced the idea that their relationship was genuine. It was the height of Summer and I turned up wearing beige chino shorts over clean white CK Y-fronts, a white linen short-sleeved shirt undone halfway down my chest, Birkenstock Arizonas and RayBans. Malcolm let me in, wearing matching pale blue linen trousers and shirt and soft suede loafers, and he introduced me to Scott, who was in silky short running shorts and a black vest, barefoot. Man, he was a sexy lad and I think he felt the same about me, judging by his smile and warm hug. I left my sunnies and Birkies by the door, undid all the buttons on my short to expose my bare torso, and sat on a sofa next to Scott as Malcolm settled into an armchair. After freshening up with a glass of cold white wine, Scott rested his hand on my bare thigh and leaned in for a kiss while also slipping a hand into my open shirt; soon, we were snogging deeply and putting on the performance Malcolm desired. We slowly undressed each other, freeing our rigid cocks - Scott's was quite similar to mine, only uncut - and I lay naked on top of him as we made out. Scott had been quite clear that, though he liked a rough and raunchy fuck as much as the next lad, Malcolm liked seeing him get made love to, so that is what I did, nuzzling his neck, moving down to lick his clean armpits, firmly suck his nipples, and then raise his sexy, clean, well-kept bare feet to my mouth so I could suck his toes and lick his soles, making him squirm and moan. Finally I took that elegant prick down my throat.
When it got too much for him, I knelt back on my heels and Scott got on all fours and pleasured my dick with his mouth. I then lay him back on the sofa, had him pull his legs back and spent an inordinate amount of time slowly, teasingly, eating out his tight little pucker because he tasted minty fresh and he was so obviously enjoying it. I eventually fingered in some lube, slicked up my prick and eased it into him, relishing the sensation of his tight ring snapping shut behind the ridge of my glans accompanied by a little wide-eyed gasp from the lad. Resting his ankles on my shoulders, I stayed still for a minute or so while gently stroking his lubed penis, and then started to slowly slide my cock in and out of his boyhole. All the while, Malcolm watched intently as I got faster and faster, kissing the lad, nuzzling his pits, tonguing his ears. Malcolm liked it simple, so we didn't work our way through the gay Karma Sutra, and besides, little Scotty was loving it. As I was getting close, I stroked him with greater urgency and he gasped and arched his back as his boyseed spilled over his abs and treasure trail, mere moments before I pulled out of his rectum and jerked my own load out, my first shot splashing his chest, subsequent spurts lashing his abs and drizzling onto his cock and balls. Panting, I leant in, licked up some of our combined DNA, and kissed him wetly.
We showered together afterwards and then lounged naked as Malcolm served us more well-chilled white wine. As I got dressed to leave, Malcolm paid, with a VERY generous tip. I saw them half a dozen more times over the rest of the year before I gave up the hustling game.
****
At the start of October 2022, final exams done, I joined a prestigious London private client law firm serving high net-worth clients, as a Senior Associate with a very decent salary and partnership prospects. As I returned to a life of wearing sharp suits five days a week, I had a little spasm of rebellion. Firstly, I noticed there was another guy at the firm who had an ear stud, and a couple of girls with nose studs or rings, and no-one seemed to care, so I decided to slip my stud back in. Secondly, I got my twelfth tattoo on the front of my left thigh.
I set to private, archived or deleted my online rent boy profiles, packed my halo lamp and webcams away, and allowed my escort work to naturally dry up until I saw only two or three of my regulars once every few weeks; eventually even they finally moved on to fresher meat, leaving me with just the one guy who saw me every so often until I gently let him go just before my 30th birthday in November. I still had the fetish - that wasn't something that would ever go away - but it had to give way to my need to grow up and focus on my career and other aspects of life. I couldn't be a whore forever, after all. Sex took a back seat as I restored my energy reserves. My inclinations shifted, and as my male clients drifted away I turned to the occasional casual fling with women to let off steam. My workouts settled into the classic push/pull/legs split on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, with something different on Saturday mornings (I ran, swam, dabbled in Crossfit and kickboxing, and even hot yoga... yeah, yeah, I can hear you cracking up at that one).
I grew a thick, bold moustache for "Movember", but instead of shaving it off when December came around, I had it trimmed and styled by my barber instead. I let the stubble grow a bit on the rest of may face as well, trimming it down a little once a week, so I now had the beardstache look I found so sexy, and I loved it. I could look professional or scruffy, and either way pretty sexy if I do say so myself. I got bored with the manscaping though, and let my body hair go au naturel again, apart from my shaft and balls.
As 2022 turned into 2023, I felt like I was turning over a new leaf. But I was no monk, and there are still some tales to tell.
As promised, this is a true account of my experiences as I remember them. I'd love to hear what you think of it, so email me if you want at [email protected]
