Chapter 2

Following my tedious work, he ate his own cream off my hand, finger after finger, devouring every drop of his spent into his system.

I was just getting ready to head back into the bar when he said, “Shane, take this.”

It was a burgundy business card with his name, address, and phone number printed on it in swan white. Above his name were the words: A-LIST ASSISTANTS.

“If you need a new job, babe, you contact me.”

I nodded, climbed out of his Mercedes, and headed back inside the bar to deal with Roscoe for the next four hours, feeling sated and stupid.

* * * *

Text to my on-line buddy following my shift at Teastyle:

Me:Yes, I want to meet u finally. No Facebook stuff anymore.

JoshSeven:I’m available at 8 tonite.

M:Sushi?

J:Allergic. I like Thai.

M:Thai it is.

J:Meet me. Si-wan’s @ 815.

M:I will b there.

J:Bring condoms. I’m horny.

M:Fill ur belly + fuck me fun?

J:Yes. LOL

M:U have apartment?

J:I do.

M:We can fuck there?

J:3 times is ur min.

M:Im up 4 that.

J:Of course u r.

M:TTY.

J:Bye.

* * * *

Wednesday night:

Jockish Alex, my roommate, found his way into my room around two o’clock in the morning, stripped out of his boxers, slipped up to my bed, and flipped me over onto my stomach.

I didn’t fight him off, although I could have. Truth was, I wanted him inside me, pressing his nine inches of flag into my bottom, separating my ass cheeks with his massive piece of beef.

His palms held my hips and he rolled into me, pulled out, and rolled into me again. Neither of us thought it rape, but rather enjoyed it.

After he came inside me, he spent the rest of the night with me, spooning my body until dawn. And then he snuck back to his bedroom with his boxers in his hand, leaving me to my morning sleep, alone.

* * * *

June 6–June 13:

Tuesday, Paulo Sanchez decided to use his seven-inch cock and a cucumber on my rump at the same time.

Wednesday, Chris Channing bit my right nipple during sex and it bled.

Thursday, TJ spanked me again, which I didn’t enjoy.

Friday, Alex slipped into my room sometime after three o’clock in the morning and took advantage of my bottom. He didn’t spend the rest of the night with me.

Saturday, I visited The Back Bar and went home with a bald, muscular daddy named Brick. Although he was only six inches long, he knew how to use his stick.

Sunday, I prayed with Roofy Matheson, one of my friends, and we had a liquid lunch of beer in his Greenwich Village apartment. I can’t remember when our clothes came off and we decided to smoke pot and take a pill called Away and…

Monday, I met a guy named Peter Gang at Teastyle. He looked like Zac Efron. He took me home to meet his lover, Greg. I spent the rest of the week between them.

* * * *

On Friday, June 18, I left Pete and Greg’s apartment. I wrote them a note and left it on their kitchen table:

I liked playing with your cocks. If you want some more fun, text me, I’ll be right over.

* * * *

When I finally got back to my apartment I found a nineteen-year-old blond boy asleep in my bed, one of Alex’s twink friends. I woke him up and asked the queer his name:Steven

“You going to pay me to sleep in my bed?”

He rubbed a fist in his eyes, obviously still half-asleep and on some drug. “What kind of payment?”

“My cock in your ass. You game?”

He slipped out of his teal aussieBums, rolled onto his belly, and groaned, “Fuck me, guy, you’re hot.”

2: Assistant

I decided to quit my job at Teastyle Bar and Grille and called Ty Devon’s cell phone number. He answered on the first ring and said, “Hello.”

“Mr. Devon, It’s Shane Allister. Do you remember me?”

He thought about the question for a few seconds and finally responded, “I do remember you. You’re the blow-job boy in the back of my Mercedes.”

“I wonder if a position is still available for me.”

He laughed: heartily, without kindness, rather disturbingly. “I think something is available.”

“How soon can I start? What will I be doing? How much money will I be making?”

Again, he laughed, and calmed me down. “Hush now, little boy. Take a breath. We’ll work the details out tomorrow.” He told me where to meet him and when.

I agreed. What did I have to lose?

* * * *

For my new employer:

I dressed in khakis and a short-sleeved dress shirt. I wore my glasses, which made me look studious, but not any younger. I shaved and showered and made sure that I smelled fresh and clean. Truth was, I looked adorably refined, with a certain happy glow.