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"Well, here's my place. It's small but it works for me."
Joe led the man into his tiny studio apartment as they walked behind the wall where a full-sized bed sat between the balcony door and the bathroom. The man was an escort that Joe encountered on his way home from work; between the lack of intimate fulfillment in his life, his growing disappointment in his struggling music career, and mounting troubles over his sexuality, he took up the initiative to hire an escort for some temporary pleasure.
"Nice place."
"I probably should have cleaned up but I didn't get time at all."
"Eh. I've seen worse." The two sat on the bed as the escort eyed Joe, waiting for whatever demand his client had in store.
"So, what're you thinking of doing?"
"Well what do you usually start with?"
"Ever had your dick sucked?"
Joe blushed. "Well, a few times. Never by a guy though."
The escort pulled off his hoodie and dropped to his knees, fiddling away at the buttons on Joe's pants. "Now's your chance. I make a lot on blowjobs alone. I don't know what it is about other men, but even the straightest ones can't resist them." He grinned and pulled out Joe's member. Joe gasped as the tip was wrapped within a long, frisky tongue and he couldn't resist thrusting in deeper. The escort pushed his hips down on the bed and used one hand to stroke the shaft while he continued to suck.
"A-ah, you're so good, um…"
The escort stopped and looked up.
"Hm?"
"What's your name?"
"Jean-Michel. You'll probably forget it though."
Joe gasped as he felt the tip of a tongue brushing against his frenulum. His hips jerked as his breath caught in his throat.
"Mmm, you really take care of yourself. You taste… clean." Jean-Michel purred.
"I take care of myself."
"I've served some nasty people around here. But this… this feels good."
For the many years Jean-Michel was on the streets, he'd never come across anyone as neat and put-together as Joe. He was willing to disregard his client's less-than-stellar life and slightly messy place, for he favoured it over grimy motel rooms and the backs of strangers' cars.
Jean-Michel halted the foreplay before he began to strip naked in front of Joe.
"I don't think I keep condoms around here-"
Without another word, the escort reached into his back pocket and retrieved a gold-wrapped Trojan that he tossed in Joe's direction. "Here. I always keep one on me."
Joe raised his eyebrows and tore the condom wrapper open. Clearly, this man knew what went on out there, and he figured out how to adapt.
"I fucked one guy twice last week, then I found out he had gonorrhea. Didn't get it, all because I came prepared."
"What a turn-on…" Joe muttered sarcastically, forgetting that he had to pay for the overshare afterward. Jean-Michel crawled on top of him, lubricating one finger with his own saliva before briefly preparing himself. He sighed as he lowered his body on Joe's cock, wincing as it stretched him on the inside.
"Are you alright?"
"Mm-hmm." Jean-Michel grunted. "I'm used to this."
He found his pace while bouncing up and down on his client's cock. He placed his hands upon Joe's chest, feeling the quickening heartbeat under his palms. Something about this session felt different compared to all of the previous ones. There was no need for him to reach for the poppers in his hoodie pocket, since the skinship was enough to turn him on. Jean-Michel couldn't help but feel a connection to Joe; perhaps it was because they were around the same age, or if it was Joe's benign demeanour. It was strangely comforting and something he hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever.
Joe slid his hands up the escort's thighs and reached for his hardening cock. Jean-Michel let out a vulnerable, undignified moan but he allowed it to happen. He needed to get some sort of pleasure out of this, anyway.
Jean-Michel kept going to appease the warmth and tingling accumulating in his body. It was the only way he knew he wasn't being used, but treated like an actual person in the most intimate way. For once, sex actually felt good.
He slowed his pace down and began to grind on Joe.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go on."
"...Can you be on top?"
Joe flipped Jean-Michel over so that the escort was on the bottom. He reinserted himself and continued their session at the same speed.
Jean-Michel was captivated. He allowed his hands to trail down broad shoulders and a firm back, holding the body above him in place as his client's cock slid in and out effortlessly. He sighed, let his head fall back on the flat pillow, and wrapped his legs around Joe's waist.
Upon seeing Jean-Michel's increasingly concerned expression, Joe slowed his thrusts before stopping.
"Are you okay?" Joe inquired. Jean-Michel appeared to shrink underneath his body. It seemed as though it was the first time anyone asked him that question.
"...Can you kiss me?"
Joe was taken aback. "I'm paying you, and you're the one making requests?"
Jean-Michel shrugged and turned his head to the side. "Forget it. I guess you wouldn't want to kiss some hooker-"
He was silenced by soft lips pressing against his own and a few deep strokes stimulating his insides. The taste of stale mint greeted Joe's tongue as he wrapped his arms around the escort's slim body. Fingers buried themselves in Jean-Michel's brown undercut, and all he could do was lie back and take it like he always did. Except this time, he was more than willing to do so.
His legs quivered as his climax grew stronger. The dull, pulsing sensation crept up underneath him and became more apparent as his client fucked him and with a few more thrusts, he came untouched. Jean-Michel groaned and whimpered as his nails dug into Joe's back. He only felt a faint twitch inside him, signalling that Joe came with him.
Joe pulled out and left for the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash himself off. Once Jean-Michel was left alone, his post-orgasm high came crashing and the tears that welled in his eyes trickled down his face with a few choked sobs. Never had sex felt so natural to him, and he was nothing but grateful to meet a man who didn't think about hurting him. He didn't even feel the usual sense of disgust and shame as he stared down at the drops of cum drying on his stomach.
Jean-Michel didn't want Joe to see him naked and crying on his bed, so he grabbed his hoodie from the floor and pulled it on hastily before drying his eyes with the sleeve.
Joe emerged from the bathroom wearing a bath robe and took a seat next to the crying escort.
"What happened?"
"...Thank you."
"You're thanking me? For what?"
"I'm not sure if you'll understand, but this is the first time I came and meant it. I only do this shit because I need the money and I have no one else to look out for me. But you made me actually feel good for once. Usually, men just throw a few euros at me and go their way."
"So you fuck people for money and you've never gotten off from it?"
"Well, the last time it happened I was raped in the back of a Peugeot. I try to block that out."
Joe's heart broke. Even though he had Jean-Michel's trust, he realized he was one of the many men who took advantage of him. He too felt unclean and sleazy, having crossed a line that he could never step back over. Shame filled his soul as he thought of a way to respond.
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry…"
"Whatever. I was 'asking for it.' That's what they all say." Jean-Michel scowled, tears burning against his face.
"Don't say that. Don't you ever say that. Who cares what "they" think of you? Fuck them! I've been through some shit myself and it hurts. I understand your pain." Joe held Jean-Michel's hand gently and much to his surprise, the escort didn't withdraw from him. "I want to help you."
"Okay." Jean-Michel regained his composure and stood up to get dressed. "I'll accept another form of payment from you. Just between the two of us."
"Oh, right!" Joe bolted up and toward the table by the main door. He leafed through his wallet to fish out a few banknotes.
"I was going to ask for your number. Normally, I give mine to clients but… you're special. I want to stay in touch with you. And maybe you'll get to know me better, too."
Joe turned around to see the escort fully clothed and smiling slightly. "Here you go." Joe handed him two hundred and fifty euros and a little more. He found a pen and a scrap piece of paper lying near his wallet and scribbled his cellphone number on it.
"So, are you okay to go home, or do you want me to-"
"No, no. I'll handle it. I really don't want to go back tonight so I'll find a place to stay."
"You know, I would let you spend the night but my brother's coming over tomorrow."
"Lucky. I wish mine was still around." Jean-Michel glanced at Joe one last time before going his way. "Take care."
"You too." Once Joe was alone, he sat on the loveseat in his living room and stared pensively at the wall. He saw the hubris and apathy of mankind through the man he hired for a quick fuck and couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself for sinking so low. Jean-Michel was someone like him, and his past was shrouded in equal parts pain and mystery.
He didn't know how he was going to sleep tonight, but he certainly had Jean-Michel on his mind.