13. 13

13

Ant Decker

Long story short, I owe Robbie McGuire ten thousand dollars.

I’m not happy about it.

Not to sock shame anyone, but if you insist on walking around hotel rooms in nothing but boxer briefs and the sluttiest socks known to man, this is the kind of shit that happens.

It’s not just the socks that were the problem, although admittedly, they were a pretty big problem. White knit. Snug fit. Two blue parallel lines on the cuff, designed for the express purpose of drawing the eye up. It was his legs and the way the socks hit them right under the calves. An inch or less under the curved line of calf muscle. A little shadow that dipped and disappeared when he moved. A shadow that tempted me. A shadow that spelled out my name and wrote it all over the walls and the ceiling.

He’s on his knees now, cheerfully mopping up copious amounts of semen off the floor with a long length of balled-up toilet paper. I’m lying back in the armchair in the corner of our hotel room, boneless. My legs are splayed out and though I’ve tried to move twice, I’ve been unsuccessful at sustaining an upright posture both times.

“I take cash or check,” he titters. “PayPal, Venmo, or Zelle. Honestly, any cash app would work. I don’t mind. If it works for you, it works for me, you know.”

I drop my head against the chair back and breathe deeply. Mental clarity is in short supply right now, so I might be wrong, but holy shit, I can’t think of a single time a guy has taken me apart like this. I’m not even sure how it happened. One minute, I was strong, staring out the window, and the next, he was there, in the center of the room, the only thing I could see. It was the socks and the white Calvins. It was the legs. But mostly, it was his face. He raised his shoulders slightly before he spoke and smiled shyly, pinching his bottom lip between two fingers before letting it go.

“Decker.” He said it softly, as though that made it better. As though that made it less real. Less scary. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

I lost it.

I fucking lost it .

Reason. Reality. Humanity. It was all there one second and then it was gone. I was gone. I’m not sure exactly what happened. I don’t know who moved first or even who did what. The only thing I know for sure is that something major happened to me. My spine is aching from arching so hard and my balls are empty. McGuire has a Cheshire cat grin and a streak of saliva or cum running down from one corner of his mouth, and the echo of my orgasm is ricocheting around the room.