Sebastian: The Complete Series (18 page)

“Much. Want me to repay the favour?” I looked at my hands then placed them over his and we both chuckled. They were twice the size of mine. “Well, I can try.”

“Touch what you want. I’ll enjoy it.” Shane turned around and I began to work the musky gel over his body, lathering him up before rubbing his back and hoping it felt okay. When I got down to his arse, I made sure to knead it roughly, getting my first groan out of him.

One thing led to another and he had me up against the wall with my legs wrapped around his massive hips while he ground his cock into my cheeks. I was thinking—sporadically through my moans—about what he wanted from me. What could he want that he couldn't get from the average person he picked up on a night out?

When he was hard and aching against me and my cock was leaking, he let me down and pressed his finger to my lips. I licked it then slowly enveloped my lips around it and sucked. He was pulling his cock while I did it and his moans picked up. He obviously wanted a blow job, so I let his finger go and slipped to my knees, but when I went to suck him, he pulled back and shook his head.

“I want you to watch me pull off. You can touch yourself too. I like to see how I'm turning you on.”

“Okay.” So he liked to watch. Well, I gave him a good show and the sight of him jerking that fat cock in front of my lips made me get close too quickly. It also made me thankful I wasn’t bending over for him, because it was obscene how wide he was. “Shane!”

He grunted as I fucked my fist below him, taking in how big and tall he was from my knees, his cock inches from my face. I expected him to come over me, that’s what he was aiming for—literally aiming for. I wanted to come after him, or at least hold off until he was there, but I was right on the edge and he wanted me to come, he was encouraging me to finish. He needed to see me shoot over his tiled floor. So I did. I came hard and fast with a loud groan.

As soon he saw me come, he grabbed my head and held me close, I had the perfect view of his cock flushing, his slit opening and closing, and then he came, spilling over my cheeks and lips in two long shots. I stayed still letting him enjoy the view of me kneeling before him covered in his cream, then he smiled and ran his finger over his cum trickling over my mouth and sucked it off his finger. The guy was dirty, and I liked it.

I was catching my breath, waiting for him to give me a clue what he wanted next.

He looked down at me, still pointing his cock at me and smiled. “Ready for me to rinse that off you?”

I nodded, expecting him to shift out of the way and let the warm water run over me, but he didn’t.

No!

That’s not what he did at all.

His big body moved closer and I leaned back so I could keep his face in my eye line.

And then… then IT happened.

He… he started to…

There’s no nice way to say this…

He pissed on me.

At first it was shock which kept me on my knees and my mouth slammed shut, well, that and the fear of tasting his piss.

I was so shocked, all I did was kneel there and watch him, trying to suss out what the hell was going on. Maybe this was a mistake and he had some sort of problem, maybe it wasn’t happening at all, because, really… People did this?

He was watching me while he did it, aiming for my chest. I could feel the warm streams running down me while he moaned, moaned a hell of lot louder than before. It was when he took hold of my hair and yanked my head back that I decided enough was enough, but by the time I prepared to talk, warm liquid was flowing over my lips and I kept them shut, obviously.

Thankfully, it was over and he stood back, watching his work as I kneeled on the floor. He took the shower head from the wall and held it over me.

I just stayed still and let him rinse me down watching the yellow streams of piss and water run down the drain, taking with it a little bit of my pride.

I
t was early when I woke up the next morning still
ever so slightly
traumatised by my date with The Pisser, and when I say early, it was nine, which is early for me. For Harry too, but I could hear him moving around outside, so I laid still in bed, trying to work out what was going on in the sitting room before I got up and became involved in something which I didn’t want to know anything about.

I could hear him talking, not the words, just his voice, then Leigh’s softer voice began speaking. They didn’t sound like they were involved in anything major, just your casual conversation. Leigh actually laughed which, considering his depressing mood yesterday was a huge improvement.

I decided to just lie in bed and leave them alone.

I liked Leigh, and yes, I felt bad for getting him into so much shit, but more importantly, I really wanted Harry to get to know him better. I loved Harry, and I know this will sound weird considering we’d had sex, but he was the closest thing to a brother I’d ever had, and I wanted him to be happy. Leigh was the only man who he’d shown any interest in outside of the job since I’d known him. Well, since the prick he used to see fucked him over big style a couple of years ago actually.

I wasn’t going to play matchmaker and get them together, but letting them have time alone where they could chat and become friends… I didn’t see any harm in that. Harry didn’t have many, but I guess I didn’t really either. I’d never really looked at my life since I joined the agency and seen how it had changed me until that morning, but I had changed.

I didn’t have time to join my old friends from university, and my flatmates had fallen to the side due to lack of time now I’d moved out and taken on more dates. I was never one for close relationships anyway, but I used to have a few good friends who I could call up and meet up for a good time. But when did I last do that? I couldn't remember.

When I'd gone out recently, I'd gone out with Harry and other escorts. I didn’t have to worry about slipping up and talking about work, and if I'd had a bad day or had questions about the job, then I knew they would understand and be able to help. They also had more money than my old friends, and I'd realised early on that my new cash flow caused more than a few eyebrows to be raised.

I had all that cash and clothes and I couldn't do anything with them. I had to pretend to be someone else with them and I hated it. With the escorts, I didn’t have to do that, but there was Harry who I considered a friend, and that’s probably the same for him. It was quite solitary really and that wasn’t something I had considered before I joined up for this life.

Even my family were held at arms-length, especially now they thought Harry and me were in a relationship and so happy about it. When I spoke to my mum over the phone, I felt bad about the lies I would tell her, and not just about my non-existent relationship, but about my new job—I went with museum guide because she would believe that, and if asked, I would know all about the exhibitions in there. The more I had to lie, the more I pulled away. I hated lying. I was an honest person and it bugged me constantly.

I tried to think of the positive things about my life changes: The money. Harry. This apartment—which came back to the money. The clothes—which yeah, also came back to the money. The hours? No, in the beginning I worked less hours than my old bartending job, but now it was increasing—along with the money, but… university? I took this job on so I would have more time, but… I rolled over in bed and put my head under the pillow.

I was failing my classes. No one knew. Not even Harry. That’s what he said would happen. Not because I gave up or got bored of my studies, but because the job gradually took over, and it happened so slowly that I didn’t notice, or didn’t care by the time my life changed completely. Everything revolved around it.

I used to be strict with myself, say no to the jobs, stay at home and catch up with my courses, but now… I didn’t. I was saying yes to more work, spending more money because I had more, which meant I wasn’t at home enough to study. And when I did turn up for my lectures, all I did was clock watch, waiting so I could get out.

Then there was Robert. Yes, Robert was still on my mind despite how fucking hard I tried to not think about him. He was still a constant shadow clinging to me.

He started me on this journey. It was all his fault. He was still a mistake. Still gorgeous and sexy and the best fuck I'd ever have. Oh, and he hadn’t called the agency once since our last date two weeks ago.

Of course, I wasn’t bothered, not in slightest.

Nope. Not one bit.

Oh, who was I lying to?

I thought about him, not all the time, but at least once a day, which was pissing me off. The longer he went without calling, the more it bugged me. He’d said all that stuff about how I was special, told me we could have more.

And then what?

Oh, yeah, he just fucks off and forgets about me.

It was all lies. The sooner I forgot about him the better I would be. Maybe I needed to get myself a regular guy outside of the job to see. Everyone said it didn’t work, especially if the guy didn’t know what I did, but I wasn’t looking for something long term or emotional, just a bit of fun with someone I picked up.

Wasn’t this job supposed to be all about fun? Okay, so my eyes had been opened a little and I was more aware of what the job involved. God, if last night was anything to go by, I’d only just scratched the surface of what to expect. But the pisser had to be a one off, surely? It hadn’t been as bad as it
could
have been. But then maybe I was looking too hard for the positive things and finding the humour in the situation rather than being irritated and, erm… pissed off. I laughed out loud when I thought that.

I hadn’t agreed to do that with anyone, and I understood the stupid cow who booked me for the client must have had a zombie moment and fucked everything up, but still. I said no, not to the agency or Madame Harriot, not to the guy who was paying me, but to me. I said no when I’d filled out all those forms, but it was more than the forms. It was a promise to myself not to get in too deep, not to cross the lines in the sand which I drew for myself. It was the only bit of control I had, and what did I do? I stepped over it. Willingly. I could have just walked out. I could have done a lot of things. But I didn’t, did I?

What else will I cross that line for and how bad would I feel afterwards? How many times would I take a job and add to my skill matrix? But the biggest question was how would I feel after that skill had been added, after the line had been shifted and I had crossed it again and again. If I let it happen, I could see myself in three years’ time and what I saw, I didn’t like.

I had to be strong and I had to go talk to Madam Harriot and make sure she knew I wasn’t going to be pushed, accidentally or otherwise, to do more than I was already doing. There was one thing which I knew I had to add to my list as a peace offering, and it was literally my arse.

I had to bottom for clients. Everyone did it. Christ, even the ‘straight’ men on the books did it, and they did it with both men and women. If they could do it, so could I. What was I holding back for anyway? When I joined up it wasn’t a big deal. I just said no because I wanted to ease myself into the job before I took on that position. And here I was, it was time. I enjoyed sex of all kinds, there wasn’t anything stopping me before, so what was that niggling doubt banging me on the back of the head and telling me not to do this?

I screamed into my pillow when
his
name and
his
image came into my brain. The fucker! If I knew his number I'd…

His number!

I did have his number. Or at least Liz on reception had his number. She was a push over, I could easily get it. After last night’s cock up, she fucking owed me one, so I sent her a text.

You owe me for last night. BIG TIME! I need a favour. A secret one. I need a client’s number no questions asked. Robert Barrett. No questions. No talking about it. Do it and when I speak to Madam Harriot later, I won't bitch too much about your cock up.

She got back to me almost immediately, telling me she was sorry and gave me his number, just like that. I was shocked. Really shocked. I had Robert’s mobile number. I just sat there looking at the text, looking at his number before I saved it to my phone. Then I laid back down and stared at the ceiling. Now I had it, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to use it. What would I say exactly?

Remember me? Why haven't you called me? Why don’t you want to see me anymore?

Why should he answer those? I was paid to be with him. I wasn’t his boyfriend. No way. I didn’t want that anyway. I didn’t want any of it until he started telling me all that shit and treated me differently than the other men I saw. But then, I helped him break my rules. I offered everything up to him without a second’s thought. I was stupid. So stupid. This was exactly what happened to Harry. I knew the story well, but I was too arrogant to see Robert’s lies. I believed him when I should have been playing him at his own game.

Why didn’t I? Because I liked him. A lot. Because
I
wanted more.

I had two options. I could call Robert and we would start our dance again, or, I could call Harriot up and change my skill set and then she would send me on the trip to Marseille with Harry and a few other men I knew from the agency. It was a big deal for Harriot. The guy was one of her wealthiest clients, and he threw these lavish parties for his most elite business buddies every year. He booked ten escorts from us this year and several from another French agency. Harriot was sending all of her best people, and the guy had asked for me, but there was one issue, my anal sex refusal.

All the men had to be up for it. She had a wide range of escorts and she usually only sent her most experienced because it was a wild weekend with lots of sex and boozed up people who didn’t know we were escorts. We were to act like guests and keep the client’s business associates happy and entertained.   

It was a ton of money and it involved travelling to the French Riviera. I’d never been out of the UK and this was my chance at living the life I wanted to experience when I took on the fucking job. I wanted that place and I wanted to meet a few men there and let them fuck me. It’s not like I was some shy virgin. I’d been with enough men over the last two years. Okay, so it wasn’t something I did a lot, but… I enjoy it. There’s no pretending I don’t. And they wouldn’t know we were escorts. I could pick someone up. It was the perfect situation for me to change my skill set. After all, hadn’t I just been thinking about going into town and picking some random guy up?

This way I got out of the UK for a few days, would make a lot of money, meet some rich socialites and expand my horizons a little.

I picked up my mobile and swiped Robert’s number away and found Harriot’s direct line. I was going on that trip. I just had to convince her I was ready.

After a tense and bitchy half an hour conversation with Harriot, I had my place reserved and my passport on fast track thanks to a client working in the Liverpool office. I would be attending along with the nine other best escorts in our agency and I couldn't wait. I even felt proud. After all, the guy had asked for me. He liked what he saw and after seeing most of the other escorts, I knew he had a lot to choose from. I felt on the top of my game when I climbed out of bed, excited to tell Harry the great news.

I was beaming when I walked into the sitting room, and then I stopped moving and shut my mouth because Harry and Leigh were standing by the window in the middle of a super sweet, totally romantic kiss. It was too tender and soft—lips barely pressing into the others, bodies almost touching, but seeming too nervous to actually close the couple of inches separating them. I tried really hard to stop the awww sound coming out from my lips, but…

“Awww.”

Harry and Leigh jumped apart so quick they should have been in Accident & Emergency for whiplash.

“Umm.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair and looked like I’d just caught him shagging his sister or something.

“What? Don’t stop on account of me.”

“No, it’s not… We were just…” Harry gave up and looked upwards.

“That was my fault,” Leigh murmured quietly. “I'm sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to… It won't happen again.” Then he was out of the door and jogging into my room. My room! Fuck’s sake.