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worked my way up his back, squeezing his muscles in what I hoped was a professional way. When I got to his shoulders, I worked his trapezius muscles as hard as I dared. Whether I earned it or not, Eddie rewarded me with a groan.

I began to work his neck. He jumped a bit, and I looked down to see a row of small, quarter-sized bruises on his neck. “Hey, what happened here?” I asked.

“I tripped,” he said dryly. There wasn’t any way he could have gotten those bruises by tripping. I could have questioned him more closely, I suppose. But it didn’t seem the time or place.

Since neither of us was paying, I wasn’t exactly sure which of us this was for. I was happy to be in charge, but wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be doing this all for his benefit or if it was okay for me to have fun with it. I decided to split the difference and rubbed my way down his back until I got to his round buttocks. I kneaded them deeply, enjoying their firmness and the thick hair that extended down his legs.

With one finger I traced the crack of his ass down passed his asshole to his ball sac. I reached under him the way he had with me, and pumped his dick. He raised his ass up and moaned. When he did that, his cheeks spread, and I got a glimpse of his pink pucker hole. I put more cream on my hand, rubbing my fingers together to warm it.

As I slid a finger into him, he arched his back and pushed his ass up toward me. I found his prostate and gently rubbed it with a circular motion. Eddie moaned deep in his throat. I slipped another finger in. I was rewarded with a quick gasp.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said.

I pumped my fingers in and out of him, slowly, then eventually more quickly. Hips in the air, Eddie reached under himself and began to masturbate. Then, he stopped.

“Let me turn over.” Taking my fingers out of him, I stood back while he flipped his body over. Then he said, “Go back to what you were doing.” I did.

I could feel his prostate grow hard under my touch. He was jerking himself, but I pushed his hand away and did it for him. His muscles were tense, as though he wanted to jump off the table. I eased a second finger into him, and he groaned. Picking up my speed, I slipped my fingers into him again and again, each time hitting his swollen prostate. He bucked underneath me, encouraging me to go faster. He whimpered, and then he was coming: his ass gripping my fingers, come spraying over his belly. Getting his breath under control, he sighed heavily.

A moment later, he sat up on the table and looked me right in the eye. Not taking his eyes off me, he reached down and grabbed my hard dick in his hand. He slid off the table onto his knees. Popping my dick into his mouth, he took it all the way down to the base. My knees got weak, and I had to hold onto the table for support. He bobbed up and down on my dick aggressively. He wanted me to come and come fast. To help him along, I shut my eyes and thought about what I’d just seen, his jizz spitting out of his dick, my fingers deep inside of him.

With an intense muscle contraction, I came in his mouth. I tried to pull away before I came, in case he didn’t want to swallow, but he grabbed me by the hips and kept my cock deep in his throat. When I was done coming, he stood up and gave me a satisfied look. “Gee, Dirk, that was really terrific.”

“Sorry it wasn’t more of a massage,” I said.

“It was the kind of massage I wanted. Thank you.”

I wondered for a moment, if he was going to hand me a wad of cash just to keep the role-playing going. But he dropped the play-acting and said, “Show me your bedroom.”

My bedroom is very simple. A dresser with a small, flat-screen TV/DVD combo on top, a queen-sized bed with a frame that was similar to the dresser but didn’t actually match, glass tables next to the bed with mod lamps Jeremy had found in a thrift store. Everything in the room was purchased cheaply -- except the heavy, brown velvet drape that covered the sliding glass door. That, and the Egyptian cotton sheets, we’d paid full price for.

I hadn’t had anyone in my bed to sleep for a year. It was presumptuous of Eddie to assume he was invited to spend the night. But I couldn’t object. I actually wanted someone in my bed, and Eddie would do. Before he drifted off to sleep, he spooned me and whispered, “I bet you get very kinky, don’t you?” That made me happier than it should have. I was still thinking about how I should answer him when he began to snore.

Eddie was clingy sleeper and kept me awake much of the night. Around two a.m. I got a little paranoid and wondered what he was doing. I probably shouldn’t have let Peter push me into this situation. Well, to be fair, I was a grown-up capable of making my own decisions. I chewed on that for a minute then went back to blaming Peter. It was just easier.

What if Eddie wanted another date? Would I be able to turn down another freebie? And when all is said and done, is there really such a thing as a freebie? I had no idea what the cost of this was going to be, I thought cynically. That was the problem with most relationships, when they began you never knew what they’d cost you. My relationship with Jeremy had cost me a small fortune. One time I guesstimated the number of

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