Chapter 13

Watching Simon was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Yes, watching porn on a screen was hot, but in the flesh, actual live action… I was as horny as I’d ever been.

His face as his orgasm hit was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen in my life, and I’d witnessed my fair share.

Unable to face him, I’d legged it, bursting through the door into the blinding sunlight.

Taking a moment to adjust, I walked towards the house, veering off to escape through the gate, when I heard him call my name.

I had to gain my composure if I was to speak to him again, but that image would take up space rent-free in my head for the rest of my life.

My heart continued to race as I leant against the wall, barely able to catch my breath in the dry heat.

No one followed me, and for that, I was grateful, unsure that I could string together a coherent sentence.

“Fuck.” I closed my eyes, picturing him in my mind, his hand as he’d pleasured himself. I had no interest in the major attraction, the two men fucking on the bed. They meant nothing to me. Simon had drawn my attention, and now I couldn’t unsee his impressive cock.

God, how I’d love to look closer, to map the veins, every lump and bump, to feel the texture and finally, to taste him. I licked my lips in anticipation.

I’d never wanted anything more in my life.

I straightened when I heard Barbara call my name, wiping my sweaty hands on my shorts.

“Duke? Are you out here?” She walked through the gate, looking left and right.

“I’m here,” I said, startling her from my hiding place, partially hidden behind a large shrub.

“What on earth are you doing out here? You’re late for our appointment, and Cyril said he saw you dashing out the gate.”

Shit, it was almost eleven fifteen, and we’d agreed to meet at eleven.

“I’m sorry. I got waylaid.” We strolled back towards the house.

“I’ll bet you did,” she said, a mischievous smile on her face. “Cyril said you were in the studio. I hope you enjoyed watching. He said Simon put on a most excellent show.”

Oblivious to my discomfort, she continued to talk.

“It’s so different seeing it in the flesh. I often sneak in and watch. So much more sexual, don’t you think?”

She stopped walking and talking to look at me.

“Is everything okay, Duke? Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, honestly. Now, let’s get you massaged.”

Finally able to breathe normally, I led her back to the house and into the room she’d had prepared, complete with a luxurious massage bed.

A table stood at the side of the room, holding a range of oils. Large fluffy white towels hung on hooks screwed into the wall. A set of French windows opened onto a small balcony, a sheer drop to the ocean below.

She walked to them, flung them open, and stood with her arms wide, her head thrown back.

“I love it here, Duke. I feel alive like never before.” She spun to face me. “Don’t waste your life waiting. Grab it by the balls and make it yours. All too soon it’ll be over, and what’s the point of living with regrets? I want to die knowing I had the best fucking time possible.”

Tears filled her eyes. Where was my fun-loving Barbara?

“Hey, come on now. What’s wrong?” Not usually a hugger. I held on to her, giving her a big squeeze.

“Everything’s fine. Take no notice of this old fool,” she mumbled.

“Are you sure?” This wasn’t the same woman I’d met two years ago when she first stepped into the spa. That Barbara had been bouncy and full of life.

“I’m sure.” She pulled away from me and stepped behind the screen in the corner of the room. I heard the rustle of clothes and hoped to God she’d be wearing something when she returned.

I sauntered over to the table, selecting her favourite oils, geranium and lavender.

“Are you ready?” I stood next to the table and waited.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

“You’d better not be naked.” I laughed and was relieved when she did too. She’d had me worried with her talk of dying, but when she appeared, her tears had dried.

“I wouldn’t do that to you again. Now, press that button over there, and we’ll have some music to entertain us.”

I’d expected something soothing and relaxing, but the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the room. It did the trick, and soon enough, she was humming away, content in her own world.

It’d been a few months since our last session, and I’d expected her muscles to be a little tight. What I didn’t expect was the weight loss. I’d not noticed yesterday. Her voluminous dress hiding her frailty. Worry niggled at the back of my mind, and I made a mental note to talk with Cyril at some point.

At the end of the session, she redressed and hugged me. “You’re such a good boy, Duke. I’d have loved a son like you.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what had just happened. It sounded like a goodbye, but I refused to contemplate that. Barbara and Cyril would probably outlive me.

I closed the French doors and set about tidying the room. A prickle of uneasiness settled, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not well with her.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me I’d missed breakfast. Time to find some food.

I left the room, closing the door behind me, not noticing Simon waiting for me.

“Are you okay? You don’t look happy.” Thank God he was wearing clothes.

“You’re the second person to ask me that today.” I walked past him and out onto the terrace. I needed some air, as warm as it was.

“I didn’t mean to pry. Has someone upset you?”

I sat on a sofa, and Simon joined me, his thigh next to mine, fine hairs brushing my skin.

“Not particularly.”

I stretched out and put my feet on a small table. A sense of unease washed over me. Something felt off, and Barbara’s words had me worried.

“Want to talk about it?” He really wasn’t giving up.

“Not really.”

“Fuck, Duke. I’m trying to be nice here, and you’re giving me nothing back.”

I opened my eyes and looked over at him in his pale-blue T-shirt and tight black tailored shorts. He’d showered, his hair still a little damp and longer than I’d seen him wear it. I preferred it this way. Curls framed his face, gathering at his neck. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and it hit me then just how handsome he was.

Yes, I’d lusted over him. As a boy, he’d been my fantasy, but right here and now, sitting next to me on the sofa, concern on his face, it was like I was seeing him for the first time.

I reached out but pulled my hand back at the last moment.

I gazed at his parted lips, and remembering Barbara’s words, I moved towards him, making my intentions perfectly clear.

I hesitated a moment before closing the gap between us. My lips met his. He didn’t pull away.

But the positioning was awkward. Our bodies twisted. Throwing caution to the wind, I straddled him, my forearms resting on the back of the sofa, caging him in.

There was no resistance, and no hesitation, when he wrapped his arms around my back.

I flexed my hips, pressing my groin into his, smiling when I felt his hardness rubbing against my own. He wasn’t having any problems this time around.

He thrust upwards, circling his pelvis. It felt so good.

“Seems like someone can’t get enough, eh, Finn?” Troy’s voice broke the spell we were under, and I turned to look at them.

I still couldn’t feel any attraction to them. They were just too polished. I preferred a bad boy, and Simon had always been that in my eyes. To me, there was no competition.

Even watching him in the movies, he was never perfect, and I admired that in a man.

Without breaking eye contact, I climbed off Simon’s lap and took him by the hand, pulling him to stand.

“Let’s take this upstairs.”

Ignoring Troy and Finn, I led Simon to the grand staircase.

“Duke,” he said, holding back.

“What? Come on.” I wasn’t taking no for an answer and tugged at his hand.

“Duke.” He said my name again, refusing to budge. “What are we doing?”

“I thought it was obvious. Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I do. We need to be sure, though. We cross the line; there’s no going back.”

“Marc was right,” I said to no one in particular.

“Who’s Marc, and what did he say?”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate. I want to cross that line. I want you, Simon, always have done. You can’t tell me otherwise, can you?”

He looked away from me but still held my hand.

“I’ll not lie. You’ve been on my mind.” He took a step closer. “These past few months…I’ve thought of nothing but you. You’ve invaded my every thought. Hell, it’s your fault I’m suffering from performance anxiety.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Because no one is you. Don’t you get it? As much as I fucking hate you, I want you.”

By now, we were in our usual position, eye to eye and chest to chest.

He pinned me with his stare, those icy blue eyes boring into me.

“You still hate me? Well, maybe I can change your mind.” I kissed him again, my lips moving effortlessly with his. I ran my fingers through his hair, loving how soft it felt. “Upstairs?”

He nodded and, without letting go, followed me to my bedroom.

I closed the door and stood before him, no longer knowing what to do.

“What do you want?” he asked, stroking my face.

I shrugged.

“You, I guess.”

“You guess? You either do or you don’t. We’re not half-arsing this, Duke.”

He was right, of course, and right there and then, I made a decision that could change our relationship forever.

“Damn right we’re not.”

I walked him backwards until he could go no further, his back against the closed door.

I put a hand to his throat. “No half-arsing, Simon.”

I took his mouth with mine, forcing my tongue into his mouth. He didn’t resist, tangling his tongue with mine.

It was hot; it was dirty; it was everything I’d fantasised about.

For so long, I’d let others do what they wanted to me, but today, I was taking control. I took his hands in mine and placed them above his head, plastering my body to his. He was hard, and I didn’t mean his dick. He was all muscle, and I knew sex with him would be a wild ride. Who would top? Would it be me? I certainly hoped so.

He broke the kiss, his stare daring me to continue.

“You’re fucking mine, Simon Stroker. You can fight me on that.”

He spun me around, reversing our roles, my hands now pinned against the door.

“Is that so, Duke Anders?” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.

He’d always been bigger than me, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I had the element of surprise on my side.

I reversed our positions again, but at the last moment, I turned him so he was facing the door, his arms behind his back, between us.

I ran my nose up the length of his neck, inhaling deeply.

He smelt clean, like shower gel, sun cream and sunlight. How anyone could smell of sunlight, I had no idea, but he smelt like summer. It was intoxicating.

“You’ll regret that, Duke.”

“I don’t think so, Simon. I think you’re enjoying it far too much.”

I slipped my hand down the front of his shorts, hearing his moan as I gripped his hard cock.

He was big, bigger than he appeared on the screen.

I sucked on his earlobe, and he whimpered. I had him right where I wanted him.

“Hands on the door, Simon.”

He did as he was told, bending slightly at the waist, presenting his arse to me.

I still had a hold of his cock and slid my hand along his length. It hardened beneath my touch, thick and solid. No wonder he was so popular.

I’d bet he had them queuing around the block to ride him.

My dick swelled at the thought. I was versatile. Had to be, really. Being a prostitute meant you couldn’t always choose.

I pulled down his shorts, revealing a black jockstrap framing his perfectly shaped arse with a light covering of blond hair. I stroked it, feeling it clench at my touch.

“Turn around, slowly.”

He kicked his shorts to the side and obeyed. I knew he’d do anything I wanted him to.

I took a step back to admire his body. Almost hairless, his firm chest flexed, as did his abs at my featherlight touch.

His cock stood proud, the jockstrap bulging.

If he was uncomfortable under my intense gaze, he didn’t show it, and when I looked at his face, his smile said it all.

Smug and self-satisfied he had my full attention.

“Suck it,” he demanded.

He slipped the jockstrap down his thighs, revealing the cock I’d drooled over.

Unusually, he was cut. Most men I knew weren’t, it not being common practice to circumcise in the UK and Europe.

It made it all the more tempting.

A drop of precum oozed out of the slit. I lowered my head and licked it, his cock jerking at the touch of my tongue.

I cupped his balls, hot and heavy, and rolled them in my hand, gripping the base of his cock with my other.

“I’m gonna make you scream my name when you come. This old prostitute knows a trick or two.”

Too late, I realised what I’d said, but Simon didn’t seem to care, his focus on my hands and what they were doing.

I dropped to my knees and inspected him.

A small blemish on the head, a slit wide enough to poke a tongue into. Just the tip, that’s all it needed.

He thumped the door with his fist as I swallowed him down, my non-existent gag reflex allowing me to take him down in one.

He might be the porn star, but I knew my way around a dick.