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...
Cal grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. "You may have all the spunk and sass, but you keep forgetting one thing." Cal leaned in close to my ear. "I fucking own you." He pulled back a little. A smirk spread across his face. It oozed arrogance.
Through gritted teeth, I mumble a somewhat submissive, "Fuck you."
"I promise when I do, it won't be gentle."
Our eyes were locked in a tense stare. My cheeks flushed, and I broke the gaze as I thought of just rough Cal could be.
"You're going to have to learn how to respect me. Or at least appear to do so," Cal said, crossing his arms across his chest and turning to look out the window.
"Well, then maybe you shouldn't tackle me in public."
In a split second, Cal's hand is wrapped tightly around my throat. "Don't worry, I can still tackle you in private."
Cal's grip on my neck relaxes, and he looks back out the window as if nothing had happened.
I let out a small laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing. I just love finding out that posh and proper Englishman with a net worth of more money than I will ever see in my life is a kinky bastard," I say with a laugh.
Cal lets out a breathy laugh. "No, I'm not."
"Tell that to the hand that was just around my throat."
"Hmm, maybe when we get home, I could just tie you to the bed and edge you till you're sobbing for release." Cal's words were so casual, too, as if the words weren't the most graphic thing I've heard in months.
I felt a certain appendage become hard with desire. I prayed to whatever deity controls my life that Cal would not notice.
Unfortunately, I must have the deity because Cal looks over at the tent forming in my jeans and lets out a laugh. "Looks like I'm not the only kinky bastard."
"Shut up," I mumble as I try to think of things that will kill my raging boner.
"You know," Cal moves, so he's practically on my lap but not yet. "If you wanted ,I could take care of that."
The limo rolls to a stop before the driver coughs.
"Go ahead, Derek. We'll tale the bags in in just a moment." Cal bites his bottom lip, no longer looking at Derek, who is currently leaving the vehicle.
"Wait, um."
Cal cocks his head to the side. "What's wrong, Oliver?" He asks sarcastically.
"I-um-" This is literally my job, but so rarely am I involved in something that is purely for my own pleasure.
Cal leans in close. "You may be kinky, but you're a blubbering idiot." He presses his lips to me and begins to kiss me. It is not gentle. It's dominating and rough. Basically, everything I look for in a lover. Also, sorry for using the term "lover." I hate everything about that word, but I guess spending time with a guy sporting a British accent makes me use words like that.
I open my mouth to allow him better access and slips his tongue in. We go on like this for a bit before he starts to kiss my neck. I let out a soft groan and ball my hand up in his shirt. Cal's hands fumble a bit before eventually pulling down my jeans. I lift my hips up so that he can easily slide them down. I lean over and start kissing Cal's neck as he pulls out my dick.
He breaks away from the kiss and is on his knees in front of me.
Huh, never would I have imagined that the most powerful man in the world would be on his knees before me.
I gulp dramatically. I can tell by the look in Cal's eyes that it's going to be the best blow job in the entire world. Fucking Jesus could descend from the heavens, and that would not deter me from getting it. I wouldn't even bat an eye. I'd just invite Jesus to join.
Oh god, if I wasn't already going to hell, I definitely am now.
Cal wraps that slightly calloused hand around my desperate dick. For a minute, he just holds me making intense eye contact.
Cal licks his lips and leans down as he begins pumping.
"Fuck," I breathe out.
Cal swirls his tongue on the tip as his hand goes up and down, making my breathing increase tenfold.
I'm panting, my fingers tangling in his beautiful black locks. "You know," I say breathlessly. "In all my years as an escort, never once has a client given me a blow job."
Cal's jaw tensed, and he freezes. He's still holding me in his hands, but now I'm no longer in his month. He looks at me in silence.
"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward. I just say weird stuff when I'm nervous." I scratched the back of my neck as a typical outward expression of the inner anxiety I'm experiencing.
"You should talk less and just enjoy." If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Cal was blushing.
Cal resumes his excellent work making me a moaning mess under him. On the rare occasion that I open my eyes, I see Cal looking up at me, making intense eye contact once again.
"Oh god," I murmur as I watch him lick me up from the shaft to the tip and down again.
If Cal has these skills, why does he need to pay me to hang out with him? Maybe it's because everyone is using him for his money. At least with me, he knows that I'm using him for his money.
Just as I'm about to find my sweet release, he stops, rises up off his knees. Wraps his now moist hand around my neck, squeezing ever so slightly, and says, "You shouldn't have run away from me." And with that bit of wisdom, Cal turns and leaves the limo.
I'm left, sat there with a throbbing erection and my pants around my ankles, hating myself for my previous decisions.
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