Sunday 27 February 2011

no school like the old school

trying to get some quiet time again. i sit in the kitchen at work, this time sketching. less concentration needed than writing. Like the Gentlemen from Buffy, feet hovering above the floor, Bella glides up beside me and drops into a chair. "oh cool you draw too."

thinking: "again, i used to, until you sat you're fat arse down..."

"it's a good idea. i should bring my sketch book in."

the receptionist walks in and points to me, "i've got an outcall for you."

this fellow lives in the classier eastern suburbs of Melbourne. the electronic gate unlocks to let me into a Better Homes Than Yours picture perfect garden. at the door, i am greeted by an adorable black staffy, Emma. she's a little excitable. Emma's owner is a old skool queen. somewhere in his late 50s early 60s and dressed in a sweet pair of frayed denim daisy dukes and a hang ten singlet. on second though, he's dressed quite similar to how my mother used to dress me in the early 1980s, but i was 4 years old with a full bowl cut of blond hair.

"would you like some champagne?" how could i say no? he points off behind him "it's in the kitchen." in my sleeveless shirt i position the bottle for maximum flexing of muscle to make it look attractive as i pop the cork on a bottle of Great Western. we chat for a while. with the short time i spent living in the Yarra Valley, i play the bloke from the bush routine fairly well. Emma the dog's excitability has crossed the line from adorable to fucking annoying. him saying "she gets on your nerves, but she's like my only child," is the only thing stopping me from kicking the little shit across the room. the whole situation is becoming a little painful. the only thing worse than Emma's wet snout constantly digging into my crotch is the bloody awful bubbly vinegar I'm drinking from a plastic flute.

30 minutes of chat is all i can handle. normally i would not waste so much time if i was working for myself, but these aren't my clients and i expect they've had rent boys screw them over. i lead him to the bedroom, lay him on his back, legs in the air and start to fuck him. this fellow has a road well travelled and very soon i have trouble trying to figure out if i have my cock in his arse or if it's slipped underneath his arse and I'm thrusting against the mattress. he doesn't seem to be complaining so i let it go. soon i have bigger problems. Emma decides to join in. I'm banging away with a dog lapping at my arm. if it's continues, I'll lose my boner and nothing in this room will encourage it to return. suddenly the Old fella is enamored with my face and is drunkenly gazing into my eyes and tenderly brushing my bearded cheeks. while he's distracted i grab the dog my the nose and push it away. she comes back. i push her away. she comes back. i push her away. she doesn't come back. instead she jumps up on the end of the bed and sits still. i go back to sticking it to the man. all is going well until i feel a something wet on my balls. wet and warm. lapping. Emma's is licking my balls. i kick her away. she's comes back and starts licking my ass. not wanting to go through this process again and even if i do, knowing she will just turn her attention somewhere more annoying i let her continue

at least that's what i tell myself. when really, it felt kinda good. making the best of a bad situation. fucking some old dude, him tenderly brushing my face, cock jamming into a bucket of warm marshmallow and a dog licking at my balls for a couple of hundred bucks an hour. this is what my life has come to ...and i love it!

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