Monday, 17 December 2012

Unexpected expenses

June 2008.  The family have escaped the heat, leaving me to my own devices.  Things have been pretty quiet, and I don’t have a regular hook-up.  After a few drinks I drop a “remember me…” line to the professional.  Happily he does, and I go to collect him from some distant suburb.  By now I’ve grown a beard – his first reaction is to tell me I look ‘older’.  Thanks a bunch!  He quickly changes his tune on the drive back to my place, and I’m now “hot” apparently.   We re-run our last encounter – skinny dip, fool around and then upstairs.  Tonight though, he’s on a mission.  Acting a pure top, he goes at me hard for what seems like forever, with no reciprocation at all.  Stupidly I bought ribbed condoms, so my arse is raw by the time he pulls out and gives me a facial.  Then he starts on how broke he is, what a bastard his ex was and that he’s been dumped from the national team.  He has no papers and can’t travel, so is now basically a gigolo.  He thought I knew that, and is now expecting to be paid.  I gave him maybe $100 and dropped him at the taxi rank.

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