Page 6
Story: Back Room Host (Room #3)
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Juri
I didn’t realize why I had left the bar in such a hurry until I got home.
I cursed myself for running away and leaving Luca alone.
He not only ignited a warmth in me that I thought I had lost but also a shame that made it impossible for me to continue working as a callboy, because it went much deeper than just the fact that I was nothing.
As much as I had tried to comply with my buddy Clé’s invitation to socialize with others my age, this very circumstance had completely thrown me off track. I never expected that a young face, especially one as handsome as Luca’s, would hold up a mirror to me and show me what I lacked.
I would have preferred to stay at home all evening, but a regular client was waiting for me. So, dressed in my fanciest clothes, I entered a super fancy sushi restaurant and brought out all my acting talent to give him a great evening.
Stopping at the entrance, I scanned my surroundings.
Almost all the tables were occupied, and my client was already sitting at the back, drinking a beer.
Before squeezing past the tables, I took another quick look in the mirror next to the entrance door.
A flawless appearance was required for this job, but due to the high humidity of this cursed autumn weather, my black hair was even frizzier, and I looked like …
I don’t know … like a girl? And yet, I was not wearing any makeup!
I would have tucked my hair behind my ears if I could, but they were half an inch too short.
Damn it!
There were a few umbrellas next to me on the stand, so I wet my hands on their fabric, glistening with raindrops, and ran my fingers through my hair several times.
At least in the beginning, it appeared like I had slicked my hair back.
I hung my coat in the cloakroom and smoothed out the jacket I was wearing underneath.
Putting on fancy clothes for a client wasn’t a big deal; after all, my efforts were accordingly rewarded.
I took a deep breath once more, then made my way through the restaurant.
As I approached the table, I spotted him typing something on his phone.
“Hello, Mr. Lawyer,” I said in a deep voice, laying my hand on the back of the chair and giving him a charming smile.
Hector glanced up from his screen and a smile spread across his face. “Juri. How wonderful!” Putting his phone away, he stood up and came around the table to greet me with a kiss on the cheek. “Please, have a seat.”
“Sorry. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long. A bus was canceled.” I sat down opposite him and unbuttoned the buttons of my black jacket. Even though I had to dress up, black was my color and I wouldn’t deviate from it anytime soon.
“You look good, Juri,” he said approvingly.
“So do you,” I replied truthfully.
The man was now forty-three, twenty years older than me. If I looked like that at his age, I could consider myself lucky. But somehow, I seriously doubted I would make it past thirty.
Today’s dismissal still weighed on me. No matter how hard I tried not to get upset about it, I had ultimately only managed not to fall into a deep hole by taking a few pills.
But as long as I followed my rules, not consuming more than twice a week, everything was fine. Sometimes, it just couldn’t be helped.
But I was a service provider. My clients paid me to have a good time.
And to pull off the job as a callboy, I lived by rules, which gave me structure and security.
These rules—and today also the drugs—allowed me to sit here now, beaming for my regular client and entirely focus on him—if it weren’t for the platinum blond Luca, who had been swirling around in my head since the café.
As the waitress delivered the menu, I seized the opportunity to request a beer.
However, even before glancing at the options, my gaze was captured by the huge mural behind Hector.
It was an illustration of a geisha. I discreetly glanced over my shoulder and noticed artificial cherry blossoms hanging from the ceiling and Japanese lanterns scattered everywhere.
“Is this your first time here?” Hector asked with a smirk.
“Yes, I thought sushi would roll past me on a conveyor belt.”
Hector laughed. “Yes, that exists too. Here, we choose from the menu.”
Just then, a waiter served food at the neighboring table.
My mouth dropped open at the extravagant arrangement of the plate.
Peering at the menu, I felt overwhelmed.
I chewed on my lower lip until the silver ring on my side reminded me to stop immediately.
Piercings were okay for Hector; he also liked the stud in my nipple.
Only the black eyeliner didn’t appeal to him.
“Your eyes are too beautiful. You don’t need to hide them behind this black veil.”
I had made a mental note— Hector: no makeup —and didn’t think much more about it. Still, I considered the black-smudged eyes as part of my style. Maybe I was hiding, but I felt comfortable doing so.
The waitress finally brought my beer, and I left it to Hector to order the food. He liked being able to take care of me a bit. And a satisfied customer also made me happy.
Hector was a man who, like me, lived by rules.
Perhaps that came from his work as a lawyer or from living in two places at once.
In a house in the countryside with wife and children, and in, as he had mentioned, a spacious city apartment where he let a few students live.
I had learned early on not to ask him about personal matters; it only irritated him.
Unless he wanted to talk about it himself, then I listened with interest, of course.
But tonight seemed to be an evening when he wanted to fully immerse himself in the fantasy of spending a magical evening with his secret affair.
And I could provide that for him. I would even give him an evening he wouldn’t soon forget.
When he asked me about my education, I even managed to change the subject with ease.
In that regard, he was also skilled at recognizing when it was better not to poke around into certain matters.
The food was delicious, and I was inclined to claim that this was the best sushi I had ever eaten in my life.
Hector laughed contentedly and ordered another beer.
As the waitress cleared the empty dishes, he asked for the bill.
Shortly after, he slid the credit card back into his wallet and sanitized his hands.
“I’ve reserved a room,” he said in a husky voice.
My eyes lit up. “Where to?”
“Right around the corner.”
“Well then.”
As we stepped onto the street, I breathed in the cool night air, and Hector stepped beside me, gently placing his hand on my back.
“I can hardly wait,” he whispered in my ear. “Come, this way.”
I liked being desired. And I liked it even better when I was paid for it.
Even if it was only for a few hours, it was not just a means for my clients to escape their lives.
I also received some love in this way. Of course, I wasn’t naive enough to believe it was real.
I had realized years ago that true love was not meant for me.
In that regard, my father had done a good job of making me feel like shit almost every day.
We entered the suite and hung our coats in the closet. Hector rested his hand on the back of my neck and kissed me. His lips were soft and warm. He nibbled on my lip ring and eventually invaded my mouth with his tongue.
He was a passionate man who had been leading a double life for years. But that was nothing new in my line of work. There were so many of that sort that I no longer gave it much thought.
I fumbled with his clothing. At the same time, we shrugged off our jackets. I sank to my knees in front of him and freed his hard penis from his expensive pants. Gently, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, kissed the tip, and elicited a deep sigh from Hector.
“Take it slow,” he said, gripping my hair tightly. “Very slowly.”
It was easy to please Hector. As long as I did what he asked of me, desire bubbled up inside him, immobilizing all constraints and unleashing something he couldn’t control anymore. And by taking it slow, I prolonged the moment of losing control as much as possible.
I licked his glans, rubbed his shaft, and massaged his balls.
Tenderly, I caressed his thighs and kneaded his buttocks.
The man was fit and sexy, that much was clear.
His hazel eyes stared greedily down at me; he didn’t want to miss a single second.
Gradually, my pants started to feel tight.
Before I touched myself, Hector pulled me back to my feet.
“Come,” he said, leading me to the king-size bed.
He sat on the edge and dragged me toward him.
Unzipping my pants, he pushed them down and set to work on my hardness.
He fondled it, stroked me, and sucked on the tip until I could hardly stand it anymore.
As I tried to hold onto his shoulder, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind my back.
A sharp pain shot through my shoulders and I gasped.
Hector grinned, pushed up my shirt with his free hand, and kissed my flat stomach. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
It was impossible for me to move in his grip. But that was okay. Hector knew my conditions and had always adhered to them. Despite the minimal pain he inflicted on me, we were still within acceptable boundaries.
He whirled me around and threw me onto the bed. He reached for my shirt and undid the buttons, stripping it off me. I was glad he didn’t just tear it off me. I didn’t want to have to sew the buttons back on in the end.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6 (Reading here)
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53