I woke up in Gavin McCormick’s hotel suite on a fairly cold morning. He’s a good client of mine who often visits the city on business. This time, he was here to seal a deal with a multi-million dollar company which seemed to be putting him under a lot of stress. We fucked for almost two hours last night, and he wasn’t able to cum, not even once when I came almost three times. However, knowing he’s firm in everything in life and earning a reputation as a shark when it comes to his job, I knew he’ll do just fine.
Gavin enjoys thrills and taking risks, specifically the risk of having sex in public places. It’s mostly the thought of getting caught that turns him on. Knowing we could be seen by anyone at any given moment is what’s exciting for him. The first time we had sex in public was last week. We were totally buzzed and crossed the street from this bar we were at and sneaked inside Millennium park. After making sure the coast was clear, we undressed and had risky, sleazy sex in the bushes.
Gavin always leaves one of his credit cards on the nightstand next to me when he has long work days, assuming shopping would be a good distraction for me, and it is. It’s either that or me masturbating every other hour until he gets back. I needed a new suit for work, though, so I thought I’d go out and buy one and some new dress shoes. I made some poached eggs on toast to fill up my stomach before heading out, then put some jeans and a t-shirt on. But before I could make it to the door, I aimed for the bathroom instead, undid my jeans and slowly began to rub my cock. I’ve always had a masturbation addiction. Quite a big one actually. But it’s not always as crazy intense. Today was one of those days. I ended up masturbating a couple of times before I realized that this addiction could end up playing havoc with my life. Sex is my profession and the last thing I needed was for it to take over my free time as well. I blew my load, cleaned up and put my jeans back on and left.
Shopping didn’t take me a long while. I was recently going through the pages of a men’s fashion magazine and came across this article that listed pinstripe suits as being popular again, so I decided to get myself a black one. In the fitting room, I got this idea of taking a photo of myself in it with my cock hanging out and sent it to Brandon. I didn’t expect him to text me back right away.
“Where the hell are you?”, he asked. “
Gavin’s british accent never ceases to fill my mind with raunchy erotic thoughts involving either passionate lovemaking or rough fucking in the spacious wilderness in a british countryside, on a burning summer day. He’s one of the few clients I actually enjoy having sex with. He’s a natural with a little bit of extra weight, but we have some kind of chemistry. After his meeting, he asked me to meet him in the hotel’s downstairs bathroom. He asked me to go to the one and only stall and knock twice. Back from my shopping spree, I tossed my packages in our suite and excitedly rushed downstairs to meet him. It was a little after lunchtime, so the commotion in and around the restaurant located on the ground floor was slowing down. I guided myself through the halls to the men’s restrooms. After making sure nobody was inside, I quickly walked over to the last stall and knocked. I heard the door open, just a crack. When he saw it was me, he opened it a little more and I slid right inside.
We didn’t waste any time. He took off his coat and hung it, pushed away his briefcase then pushed me against the wall and kneeled in front of me. He unzipped my pants hungrily, eager to get ahold of my cock. He sucked me off steadily, stopping not even once. We were then interrupted by two men walking in. I freaked out for a second, but they just washed their hands and left. A minute later, another man came in and wanted to use the stall. Gavin didn’t care and kept sucking me off until completion. Not being able to gasp or let out even the slightest sound as I shot my big load in his mouth was a struggle. He swallowed and then pushed me further into a corner until my feet were out of sight. The man right outside the stall didn’t leave and soon, another one joined the line. Gavin threw a look from underneath and with his fingers, indicated a third one had entered. We were stuck, so I texted him and told him I’ll open the door and fly out without making eye contact, but due to his high status and the fact his face was recognizable, he said that was out of the question. The men outside were getting impatient and the first one in line who I could tell needed to go really bad started hovering and eventually knocked. The restroom door opened again, and a hotel clerk came in and asked what was going on. My forehead and palms were sweating at that point, and I simply couldn’t imagine things getting any worse. We were stuck, so Gavin finally took the initiative and started making groggy sounds; he urged them to find another restroom, his voice implying he was about to vomit. The man apologized and the clerk guided all of them out and to the other restroom. As soon as we heard the door close shut, Gavin pushed me out and asked me to meet him up in our room while he took a quick leak.
When he came into the room, we both started laughing.
“I loved how quiet you were when you came in my mouth.” He said to me, his mouth widening with a smile.
After our afternoon together, I made my way back to my apartment, did some laundry and packed another suitcase for my short weekend trip to New York. Lance had an elite networking luncheon there and invited me along. He had scheduled a taxi to pick me up and take me to O’Hare. My plan ticket was ready when I got there, and when I landed at JFK, his chauffeur was waiting for me right outside the baggage claim area holding a sign with my name on it as well as a garment bag covering a suit he had chosen for me to wear.
I met Landon outside the nineteenth century building where the event was held. The doorman scanned everyone from head to toe to make sure they were dressed according to their very specific dress code. After being approved, Lance gently placed his hand on the lower part of my back and escorted me inside and into the room. It was packed with powerful and successful men and women. A woman with silky hair caught my attention. I completely spaced out and zoned in on her, waiting for her to turn around and reveal her identity. The more and more I watched her mannerisms from behind, the more I realized it couldn’t be anyone else but her: Hilda. I had the opportunity to run away before she saw me, but I was no longer ashamed of my profession, and so I acted casually. When she eventually saw me, I pretended not to notice her, and when Lance came up to me in between conversations, I didn’t have a problem with his intimate but slight gestures.
Throughout the night, her eyes would often meet mine; the looks she was giving me were cutting and came across as judgmental. Her privileged life has given her so much pride all I wanted was to get her down her high horse. Even though I knew she’d try, she couldn’t judge me. It’s become clear she married for money. At least I’m more honest about my intentions and the things I do. Finally, when I left our table to grab some more food, she did the same, taking the opportunity to isolate and confront me at the buffet.
“I thought this kind of work was part of your past. Looks like it’s turning into your future,” she started.
“It is what it is.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?,” she said before proceeding with a diatribe. “This is an automatic dead-end that won’t provide you with any real opportunities, not to mention how it could very well ruin your life.”
“Don’t you fucking patronize me, Hilda! What I do with my life is none of your fucking business.”
I’m not usually one to lose my temper so quickly, but due to her previous and continuous interveniences in my private life, I couldn’t contain it anymore I impulsively slammed my plate on the table which startled her as well as a couple of people around us. Knowing everyone had seen me enter with Landon, I didn’t want to create a scene or embarrass him, so I moved away, tightfisted, shoulders shrugged. With only a few words, I’ve fully disposed of the person I thought I’d never be able to dispose of. That’s how a lifetime of friendship immediately went down the drain. The sad part is that not even an inch of me was filled with the slightest bit of regret. I couldn’t understand how my relationship with someone I was so familiar with and so close to would turn this toxic. She’s become unbearable. Walking away, I thought about apologizing, but I couldn’t nor wanted to. The remainder of the night was spent trying to avoid one another.
I’ve grown angry with everyone and everything around me. Piss me off once and you’re gone. From now on, it’s cut and proceed.
Cut. And. Proceed.