Male prostitution is the act or practice of men providing sexual services, usually to other men, in return for payment. Male prostitutes are known by various names and euphemisms including male escorts, GIGOLOS, rent-boys, hustlers, models or masseu...
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC FICTIONAL ACCOUNTS OF MOLESTATION. READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED. COMMENT, COMMENT! SUBSCRIBE! SHARE! ___________________________________________________________
BRYCE
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I walked quickly towards the exit of the Fontainebleu Miami Beach hotel. I wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as I had arrived. As soon as Paul had left the room that we had sex in, I vomited. It felt like I vomited for hours, although it was a matter of minutes. I wasn't vomiting because of Paul. He was a nice dude that honestly was attractive. But, all I could think about was my manhood. I felt like I had betrayed everything my father had ever taught me about being a man. That night with Romeo over five years ago had long gone left my brain. I had forgiven him and myself for what we did.
As I walked towards the exit, I happened to look at the check-in desk and that's when I saw her. Her hair was in dangling curls and her ass was appealing, but firm. I knew who she was instantly, although it had been three years since we had last seen each other. What man could forget the first girl that he ever said those three words to? I sucked in the air and turned to walk in her direction. As I casually reached my destination, I let the air in my lungs go. She turned away from the clerk at the desk and our eyes met. A luminous smile appeared across her face as she stepped towards me.
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"As I live and breath, Bryce Carter."
"Michelle Foster," I said calmly. "Of all the places in the world, we run into each other here in this beautiful hotel."
I extended my hand to hers to shake and she pushed it away. She walked right up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. We hugged for what seemed like forever, taking each other in as if our lives depended on it. When I pulled back and looked into her eyes, she smirked.
"What are you doing here, Carter?"
I laughed softly. "I always did like the fact that you called me Carter, instead of Bryce. I see that much hasn't changed."
"And, you still say my entire name, huh? I see that much hasn't changed either. So, you haven't answered my question. What are you doing here at the Fontainebleu?"
