Whore.

Chapter 7: Flagged

 "You're not taking me home?"
"I can't stand to drive all the way back there when you're right beside me. I'll explode."

 I blushed a bit and turned away. Why was I blushing? It felt good to be wanted, even if it was as a piece of meat. I got out of the car and walked into the lobby. Thankfully, the receptionist wasn't that guy who had I problem with my job. Malone got keys for a suite and I followed him into the elevator. The second the lift doors closed, he slammed me against the wall and started kissing my neck. I moaned silently in my throat. I was a little scared when he started but it felt really good. I gripped his hair and pulled him against my mouth. He was really horny, I could tell from the hard on that was pushing against my stiffening cock. The elevator bell chimed and I heard the doors open. I opened my eyes to see a very surprised cleaner whose expression rapidly changed to embarrassment. She turned her eyes away as Malone stepped away from me. He held my hand and pulled me into the corridors, walking past the red-faced woman. We got to our room, and from the look in his eyes, I knew he was dying to have his way with me. Good. I wanted him to.

  

I glanced at the clock as Malone pounded me hard from behind. It was 4:00. My eyes were spinning and my balls ached. I think I had emptied every drop of cum I had stored in them. Malone had made me cry with ecstasy so many times, I was surprised I hadn't had a heart attack and died. He was incredibly virile, something you wouldn't guess if you eyed his moderately muscled blonde frame. My butt ached, but I didn't mind. Malone knew just how to handle me and make me beg for him. Many clients had asked me to beg, and I obliged because it was part of the job. I guess it made them feel like studs or something. But Malone was different: he had actually made me beg the second time he took me on his pleasure ride. He had been teasing me so bad, fingering me as he sucked and played with my nipples.

 "Do you want it?"
"Yeah."
"You want my cock, don't you?" He continued playing with my nipples, stroking my insides as I squirmed at his touch.
"Yeah I do."
"Tell me how much you want it?"
"I want it so bad. Put it in me."
"Beg me," he commanded as he bit my nipple. I moaned aloud and yanked at his hair. My breathing was erratic. I had never felt so good. Tears were welling in my eyes as I fought to keep control. Malone was smiling as I struggled against his finger. He knew he had me hooked.

"Beg me." He repeated, looking at me naughtily. He stroked my prostate again and I leaked, moaning.

"Please."
"Please what?"

He stroked me again and I thought I was going to die. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I couldn't take his teasing anymore.

"Please fuck me. Please!"

And he had. And had done it again two more times. The thought vanished as he bellowed behind me, indicating that he had climaxed. He collapsed against my back, breathing heavily and covering me in his sweat. After about a minute of breathing and kissing the back of my neck, he pulled himself out of me and collapsed into the bed. I rolled to my side and looked at him. His grey eyes were glazed over as he stared at me. He shifted towards me and kissed me. I returned with equal intensity.

 "You're beautiful, did you know that?"

 I stared at him. Where was all this coming from? Maybe he was still reeling from the orgasm. I knew I wasn't bad to look at and I tried to stay in shape because my life was very physically demanding. But nobody had ever used the word 'beautiful' to describe me. I wasn't exactly a good looking kid and I matured late, but I was glad I did. Puberty was good to me. No acne and little awkwardness if you exclude having to grow up in an orphanage for two years. I bailed when I was seventeen and survived on the streets for the months before my eighteenth birthday, when I knew they wouldn't be able to hold me anymore. My education had suffered as a result. The schools I attended to were poor rough and I had to learn to survive. I had experimented with drugs, but forced myself to quit after a friend overdosed and died. I was so scared. It was the first time I had seen a dead body. I hadn't even seen my parent's bodies or my brother when they died. Maybe the authorities thought I was too young to handle the sight. I wasn't sure whether I should be thankful.

 "What are you thinking about?" Malone's voice broke my thought ramble. I sighed. He didn't need to know all that depressing stuff about me. Swash was the only person I'd bared my soul to, but that was because he was a part of the history. I never wanted to burden anyone else with my sadness. It was enough just living in the present.

"Stuff." Generic reply. Hopefully he wouldn't ask for details.
"What kind of stuff?"
"Random stuff."
"Am I in any of that stuff?"
"No."
"Should I be jealous?"

I laughed lightly and turned to face the ceiling. He also laughed and reached to wrap his hand around my chest. I interlaced my fingers with his, rubbing the back of his hand lightly. I knew I had some feelings for him. Maybe the sex was just making me feel something. It was really good sex. I wasn't even sure where my feelings lay. I was just a replacement anyway. The thought flooded everything else out of my mind. Was I giving out free sex to this guy because I hoped to be something more than just a hole for his cock? What was I really doing? Malone's soft snoring began and I knew he was asleep. I looked at him, his face close to my shoulder. He was hot, I couldn't deny that. His dirty blonde short hair was messed about and matted, but he still looked amazing. I remembered what I thought about the first time I saw him; I was willing to date him if he asked. He was a full decade older than me, but I didn't care in the slightest. That was just two days ago. And somehow in that short time span, he had managed to get me so emotionally confused.

A flapping sound interrupted my thoughts and I got off the bed gently and went to the window. A large rainbow flag hanging from the top window of a house across the street was being tossed about by the wind. . Gay pride. I was gay. I wasn't exactly proud of myself, but I guess I could be much worse. How much worse? The voice in my head chided. I wasn't dead in a gutter from blowing an artery in my brain after stuffing my nose with coke. I wasn't behind bars, like a lot of people in the school I went to were sure to be. I wasn't asking strangers for change in front of Home Depot.

I was a whore.

I turned around and looked at Malone. Out of the thousands of gay guys with less baggage and better morals he could have gotten, he picked me. I couldn't give him what he wanted, he must have known that. What did he want anyway? To keep the memory of Jeff alive? He wasn't paying me to be his boyfriend's ghost. Hell, he wasn't paying me at all, not that I minded. I strolled back to the bed as my phone rang loudly. Malone stirred a bit, but didn't wake up. I grabbed the phone and walked into the bathroom to avoid waking him.

 "Hello?"

A heard someone sniff from the other side of the phone. I pulled the phone from my ears and stared at the number. I couldn't recognize it. I put the phone back to my ears.

 'Hello?" I was getting nervous. It was a little too early for any tearful drama.
"Michael!" I knew the voice, but I couldn't be sure as the voice was warped by crying and the usual phone static.

"Yeah?"
"It's Emmet. You gotta come to the hospital."
"What's going on?"
"It's Jason. He got stabbed."

 I blinked twice as the message sank in.

 "Fuck."