The rate for his services was high. His quality was high. His acting skills were good enough that he could be a completely different person, and you'd never know.
However, the role he was least comfortable playing was Oliver.
Oliver Addams was a b...
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. In all honesty, masturbation has always felt more like a chore for me than anything else. I'm twenty-four, and from seventeen until now, sex just fell in my lap. I promise you. I was not working for it. With horny rich people as your base source of income, you become accustomed to too much sex. So, I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I did not jerk off frequently.
The whole time Cal's eyes are boring into mine. Finally, it becomes too much for me to maintain eye contact with him, and I close my eyes and rest my head against the bed's headboard.
"God, I'm so close," I say, biting my bottom lip.
"Stop." Cal says.
My lips part, in shock mostly. "What? Why?"
Cal stalks closer to me, like a fucking animal taunting me.
"Because." He leans over me, and I am hyperaware of the distance between the fine piece of man and my exposed penis. "I'm a heartless monster."
"I never said that." I breathe out. Although, I know exactly why he's bringing this up.
"Oh, you're right. I think the exact word you used was, 'monster.' So tell me, Oliver, what would you rather have, answers, or would you prefer to cum?" Cal asks, wrapping his hand around my neck.
"Why can't I have both?" I mumble. Whatever it's called when you're breathing is not a normal rhythm but not panting. Yeah, that's what my lungs are doing right now.
I avoid eye contact with him. I don't want to know what emotion is in his eyes. I don't think I could handle seeing the lust that I'm sure lies in his irises.
Cal's hand moves from my neck to grip my jaw. Forcibly, he turns my chin, so I have no choice but to look at him.
"Such a greedy little bitch. I wonder what you look like with tears streaming down your face." Cal thinks out loud, a wicked smile on his face.
I feel my face flush red as I look into his lust-filled eyes. The next feeling is much more welcomed than the embarrassment of his comment. Cal's callused hand strokes up and down on my length.
"How does it feel to know that this, same hand, held a gun just minutes before? That same hand has pulled the trigger, putting an end to countless lives?" Cal rubs his thumb on the slit of my head. I feel a bead of precum drip down.
I wonder how many people have died at his hand, at his command. Does he break up families for fun? Is he more of a drive-by shooting killer, or only people who deserve it?
"Fuck, I need to cum," I mutter, grabbing onto him, and letting my nails dig into Cal's forearm. His pale skin is a beautiful contrast to my own darker skin. All my life, I was told I was never white enough for the white kids, nor was I dark enough for the black kids. But right now, all I could think about was how good Cal looks.
He stops. "Oh, you want to cum? Beg for it."
"Please," I murmur, still gripping onto his arm. However, that does not seem to be stopping Cal's hand from working miracles.
"Oh, come on, love. You can do better than that. I know it." I feel him start to continue this handjob, and I have to focus hard on not bucking into his hand for more pleasure. I hear a sound I can't place my finger on and can't see because my eyes are rolling back into my head. But I feel my whole body freeze when Cal presses something cold to my temple.
"Go on, let's see how you beg when we raise the stakes." I hear the gun cock. There's a good possibility it's not loaded. However, there's just as much of a chance that it is.
"You wouldn't dare," I say confidently, although the shake in my voice betrays me.
"Really? I'm a murderer, right?" I must have struck a chord when I called him a murderer because he won't stop bringing it up. "You seem to forget that I own you. With the connections I have, I could erase you from the face of the earth." He spits on my dick and starts stroking it in a steady rhythm. Even in my current situation, my penis is still rock-hard. "So now you have two reasons to beg; for your life and your orgasm."
"Please. I need...fuck."
Cal quickens his pace, just enough to bring me to the edge but not enough to take me over it. "What do you need, Ollie?"
"Don't fucking call me that." Cal presses the gun harder into my temple. I let out an involuntary whimper. "Fine, fine. Please. Please, I need more. I want your hands all over me. You could fuck me with that gun if it'll let me fucking cum."
"Cum." Cal commands, his voice is dripping with dominance, and as the little bottom bitch I am, I cum in his hand in a moment of euphoric bliss.
God, I haven't had an orgasm that powerful in years. Maybe even ever.
"Oh, fuck," I whisper, letting my eyes flutter open to look into Cal's eyes as he pulls the gun away from my head. I watch as he drags the handgun down my limp dick. But as Cal traces the barrel down my shaft and back up it again, it quickly stands at attention. I watch as the gun becomes slick with my cum, and then to throw me through a loop, Cal brings the gun to my lips. On instinct, when Cal presses the gun against my lips, I let them part.
My reaction is instinct, or I'm a nasty slut. I take one look at the dark look in Cal's eyes and decide to tease him. I pull the gun into my mouth and give him my best performance. I circle the opening of the gun with my tongue and mime a blowjob.
"You have no idea how much I want to break you."
"Then break me."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
