Chapter Text
It’s a warm summer’s night in Los Angeles and Frank is on his way to the strip club he works at downtown. As he speeds down the highway in his dad’s Honda Civic, he’s blasting punk rock music and texting his coworker, Jamia, without a care in the world. That is, until he suddenly sees blue and red flashing lights appear in his rear view mirror as a police car approaches.
“Oh fuck…”
Frank quickly tucks his phone under his thigh as he pulls over to the side of the road. He sits there in his car waiting nervously for nearly ten minutes while the officer is probably running his plates. He’s highly annoyed at how long the cop is taking to get out of his vehicle because he’s about to be late for his shift. Finally, the cop gets out of the police car and approaches the driver’s side window of Frank’s car. He taps on the glass with the end of his flashlight. Frank puts the window down and when the cop gets lower and leans in, Frank is instantly caught off guard by how attractive the man in uniform is: he has soft-looking dark hair, gorgeous hazel eyes and lips that could only be described as kissable.
“Good evening, I’m Officer Way.” The man speaks with a thick Jersey accent. “May I see your license and registration, please?”
Frank squints his eyes a bit when the police officer shines the bright flashlight in his face. “Yeah, sure.” He hands Officer Way his documents and then waits while the man examines them. He’s never been pulled over before now—he’s only had his driver’s license for a month, after all—so he doesn’t really know what to expect in this situation.
Officer Way returns Frank’s documents to him. “Are you the owner of this vehicle, Frank?”
“No. This is my dad’s car,” says Frank. “He lets me drive it on the weekends.”
The lawman nods in response. “Do you know why I pulled you over today?”
“No idea,” Frank lies. He’s not about to make it easy for this cop and admit to speeding and to texting while driving.
“No idea, huh?” says Officer Way skeptically.
Frank shakes his head. “Nope, not a clue,” he says cheekily.
Officer Way peers into the car and his flashlight’s beam settles on something small that’s sitting in the cup holder next to Frank. Frank’s stomach sinks when he realizes what the cop has found.
“Please step out of the vehicle,” says Officer Way.
Frank sighs dramatically before opening the car door and stepping out of the vehicle, being sure to grab his phone from under his thigh as he gets up. He notices Officer Way become visibly flustered when he sees the revealing and kinky outfit that he’s wearing. Frank has on tiny, tight, black latex shorts and a black leather harness up top which shows off his pierced nipples.
The police officer appears awkward, like he doesn’t know where to look; his face is going red now, too, and Frank bites his lip in order to hold back a smirk.
“Uh…turn around; spread your legs,” says Officer Way curtly, clearly trying to maintain his professionalism.
Frank can’t hold back his smirk any longer. “Don’t you think you should at least buy me dinner first, officer?” he says playfully.
Officer Way doesn’t seem to find Frank’s remark funny in the slightest. “Just turn around, kid,” he says impatiently, his face turning an even deeper shade of red now.
Frank rolls his eyes but he obeys and turns around to face the car.
“Am I gonna find any drugs on you or in your car, Frank?”
“No,” Frank replies truthfully as Officer Way timidly pats down his ass. “I don’t do drugs,” he lies.
“Where are you headed dressed like this?” asks Officer Way, continuing the frisk.
Frank is surprised to feel the officer’s strong hands lingering a little longer than necessary on his perky, round, latex-clad asscheeks. “I’m on my way to work, which I’m late for now,” he replies, making it obvious that he’s irritated that this is taking so long.
The officer now grips Frank’s bare shoulders and makes him turn around so that they’re face-to-face now. “Where do you work?” he questions with one eyebrow slightly raised.
Frank smirks again. “Why do you wanna know?” he asks cheekily. “You wanna come by for a lap dance?”
Officer Way shakes his head. “God, no,” he says, almost disgustedly. “I’m just curious as to what kind of establishment makes their employees dress in next to nothing,” he clarifies, subtly looking Frank’s body up and down. “Some people could find it offensive.”
Now Frank raises an eyebrow. “I’m a dancer at Celebrities,” he says, annoyed that he’s now clearly being judged by his appearance. “And, if what I’m wearing offends you, then you can kindly fuck off.”
Officer Way nods as something seems to click in his mind. “Ah, I see,” he says. “Celebrities… That’s the, uh…”
“The gay strip club downtown, yeah,” Frank finishes.
“Right.” Officer Way suddenly clears his throat and steps away from Frank. “All right, then, uh…I’m going to search your vehicle.”
Frank shrugs, unbothered and kind of amused at how flustered this police officer seems to be. “Knock yourself out,” he says confidently, placing one hand on his hip.
Officer Way gets into the front seat of Frank’s car and shines his flashlight into several nooks and crevices. Frank takes out his phone, bored of just standing there while the cop looks for something he’s never going to find. Officer Way soon emerges from the car and Frank puts his phone away.
“So, did you find anything?” asks Frank.
“Just this pipe that was in the front cup holder,” says Officer Way, holding up a pink weed smoking pipe. “So, you said you don’t do drugs?”
“Yeah, that’s not mine,” Frank lies flippantly.
“Okay then.” The officer nods and pockets the pipe before taking out a notepad and a pen from inside his uniform jacket. “I’m writing you a ticket for speeding and for distracted driving. You have thirty days to either pay the fine, which is three hundred dollars, or to dispute the charge.”
Frank’s eyes widen. “Are you fucking kidding me? Three hundred?” he exclaims. “Goddamnit…” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair.
“Let this be a lesson to you next time you’re tempted to drive above the posted speed limit or to send a text message while you’re driving,” says Officer Way, handing the ticket to Frank.
Frank grabs the piece of paper from the police officer’s hands and then angrily gets into his car and slams the door shut.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, kid; I’m sure the tips you’re going to make at work tonight will cover the fine,” says Officer Way with a bit of a smirk and a wave of his hand.
“Fuck you,” says Frank, giving Officer Way the finger out the window before taking off down the street. He doesn’t even care how hot the officer was; he still turned out to be an asshole just like every other cop he’s ever encountered.
—
Frank finally gets to work at ten o’clock and enters through the backstage doors before making his way down the hallways to the dressing rooms.
“Frankie! There you are!” Frank’s manager, Lucy, exclaims when she sees him walk into the brightly lit dressing room.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry I’m late,” says Frank, rushing over to his station where Jamia is waiting to do his makeup and styling. “I got pulled over and the cop fucking searched my car and everything…”
“Don’t even worry about it, honey. I’m just glad you’re here safely,” says Lucy. “Get your makeup done and head out there as soon as you can, okay?”
“Thanks, Lucy. You’re the best,” says Frank, feeling relieved as he sits down in the makeup chair in front of Jamia.
All of the other dancers are already out in the main area of the club where the stage is and soon Lucy leaves the room to oversee them.
“So, what’d the cop pull you over for?” asks Jamia as she applies a primer base to Frank’s cheeks, forehead and chin.
“Speeding and texting,” says Frank boredly.
“He give you a ticket?”
“Yeah. It’s like three hundred fucking dollars.”
“Shit…”
“I know,” says Frank. “My dad’s gonna be so pissed,” he continues with a sigh. “At least the cop was fucking hot though,” he adds with a devious smirk.
Jamia laughs. “Seriously?” she asks. “How hot?”
“He was like a solid nine.”
“A nine?” Jamia exclaims. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, he was a total DILF,” says Frank. “I was wearing my stage clothes and I think he was lowkey into it.”
“Damn,” says Jamia, nodding.
“He saw my pipe in my car so he asked me to get out and he frisked me…”
Jamia raises an eyebrow. “The man frisked you? And you were wearing that?” She gestures to Frank’s outfit. “How the fuck are you gonna hide drugs on you when you’re wearing that?”
“See, that’s what I was thinking!”
“He definitely just wanted to cop a feel.”
“He totally did, too…” says Frank, giggling a bit. “Not that I minded though, to be completely honest…”
“Oh my God, did he actually?”
Frank laughs. “Yeah, he did,” he says. “Like, he definitely cupped my ass for a good few seconds longer than he needed to…”
“Ew, you should report him. Did you get his name or his badge number?”
“I did get his name, but… I kinda enjoyed it when he was touching me like that, to be honest. Is that bad?”
“No, it just means you’re too horny for your own good, but that’s nothing we didn’t already know.”
“Okay, fair enough,” says Frank, nodding. “He asked why I was dressed like this and I ended up telling him where I work.”
“Of course you did,” says Jamia, not seeming surprised in the least. “You’re like, the king of oversharing with strangers.”
“I mean, he was the one who was asking me all these questions…” Frank says, attempting to justify his impulsive actions.
“Yeah, well, still—that didn’t mean you had to tell him,” says Jamia. “He was just trying to get probable cause to search your car or some shit, not trying to pick you up,” she continues. “What if he’s some kind of fucking creep and he shows up here looking for you?”
“I highly doubt that,” Frank scoffs. “He seemed grossed out when I made a joke about him coming by for a lap dance.”
Jamia sighs. “Only you would make a joke like that as you’re getting frisked...”
Jamia soon finishes up with Frank’s makeup and then applies a light dusting of gold body-glitter to his neck, arms, torso and legs. “You look hot. Now, go out there and earn those tips, gorgeous.”
“Thanks, babe,” says Frank before heading out into the club.
—
The following weekend, Frank is at work doing an extra shift to help pay for the ticket he’d gotten from that asshole cop. He’s in the champagne room in the back of the club, giving a private lap dance to Adam, one of his regular customers.
Frank is fully naked and facing away from Adam as he dances sexily on the man’s lap, grinding his bare ass against his crotch while Adam’s hands roam all over his body, up and down his sides, along his thighs… Frank doesn’t let all of his customers touch him so freely like this, but he trusts Adam and he’s gotten to know him pretty well over the past several months that he’s been coming to the club.
“…so then I told him straight up that if he fucks me over again and gives this promotion to some junior guy, I’m fuckin’ outta there,” Adam continues telling Frank about what happened at work this past week.
“Good for you,” says Frank, swaying his hips back and forth on Adam’s lap. “How’d he react to that?”
“He fuckin’ lost it…” says Adam in a strained voice. He suddenly grips Frank’s waist firmly, holding him in place. “Stop for a sec, baby; I’m about to cum.”
Frank smiles to himself and holds still as he leans his head back to rest against Adam’s shoulder. “So, what’d your boss say when he lost it on you?” asks Frank, trying to distract Adam from how close he is to cumming.
Adam sighs, loosening his grip on Frank’s waist now. “He basically told me that my work ethic is shit and that I miss too many days to even be considered for a promotion even though I’ve been there longer than any of the other fucks that work there. I had to walk outta there before I fuckin’ snapped on him and gave him a reason to fire me. I was so pissed.”
“Oh my God, your boss sounds like such an asshole,” says Frank. “That’s so unfair to you, after everything you’ve done for that company.”
“Yeah, exactly,” says Adam. “They don’t appreciate any of the shit I’ve done for them—shit that’s not even my job.”
“They don’t deserve you, king,” says Frank softly into Adam’s ear.
Adam chuckles and wraps his arms around Frank’s waist. “You always know what to say…”
Frank smiles to himself and shifts himself back a bit and then leans forward, wrapping his legs around the back of the chair and bending forward, giving Adam a great view of his asshole.
“Goddamn…” says Adam in a low voice, feeling on Frank’s perky asscheeks, spreading them apart with his hands. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Lush…”
Frank sits up again and turns around to face forward while he sits on Adam’s lap. “Do you feel better now, baby?” he asks as he wraps his legs around the back of the chair and drapes his arms over Adam’s shoulders. He can feel the man’s firm erection still pressing against his ass which means he’s done his job well.
“Yeah, so much better,” says Adam, sounding relaxed as fuck as he holds onto Frank’s waist.
“Good,” says Frank softly, sensually running his fingers through the man’s longish, dark brown hair.
“You’re such a good listener.”
Frank smiles. “I try to be,” he says. “Don’t let your boss talk to you like that again, okay? That company is lucky to even have you there. Just tell him to fuck off next time.”
Adam chuckles warmly. “Thank you.” He smiles a bit and then lets out a soft sigh as he stares longingly at Frank’s lips. They’ve never once kissed despite Frank dancing naked on his lap every weekend for over six months now, though they’ve definitely gotten close to it on more than a few occasions. Lucy is very strict about the club rules, which include no kissing the customers, and there are cameras in the champagne room for both the safety of the dancers and to ensure the club rules are being followed.
“Can I take you out for a bite to eat after your shift ends?” asks Adam, looking up to meet Frank’s eyes now. “I promise I won’t talk about work the whole time,” he adds with a playful smirk. “I’m pretty good company, y’know.”
Frank smiles. He can tell that Adam is lonely and he feels bad for rejecting him yet again because he does seem like a good guy and like he’d be a lot fun to hang out with. “You already know what I’m gonna say, handsome.” He gets up from Adam’s lap and puts his thong back on. “I don’t see my customers outside of the club.” He walks sexily towards the door now, knowing Adam is ogling his bare ass in his thong as he walks away, but he stops momentarily in the doorway and looks over his shoulder. “See you next weekend?”
Adam nods. “Yeah, you bet.”
He makes his way from the champagne room to the dressing room where Jamia is cleaning her makeup brushes. “Hey, hun,” she says as Frank walks in. “How’d it go with Adam?”
“It was great.” Frank examines his makeup in the mirror and notices that his sparkly, silver eyeshadow is fading. “We talked a lot; he told me about his asshole boss trying to fuck him out of another promotion. And, he asked me out again when I was done dancing for him.” Frank sits down in the makeup chair. “Can you touch up my eyeshadow?”
“You ever just gonna go out with him?” asks Jamia as she picks up a makeup brush and dabs it into the silvery eyeshadow pallet. “He’s been coming here for months now and he only ever asks for private dances from you.”
Frank shrugs as he closes his eyes. “I’m just not into him like that,” he says as Jamia brushes silvery pigment onto his eyelids.
“Bullshit,” says Jamia with a laugh.
Frank smirks. “Okay, maybe I am a little…” he admits with a bit of a laugh.
“From what you’ve told me it seems like you two have insanely good chemistry.”
Frank nods. “We do, for sure,” he says. “Honestly, I think we’d just fuck immediately if I ever spent time with him outside of work. We get so close to kissing every time I dance for him, and I’ve almost made him cum countless times.”
“Sounds like you definitely would just get right to it,” says Jamia. “So, why haven’t you gone out with him then?”
“If we start hanging out outside of this place, then he’s never gonna wanna come here to see me anymore and I lose my best customer,” says Frank.
Jamia nods. “True.”
“This is gonna sound shitty and I feel bad about it, but he tips me so insanely well and I really need that money right now—especially ‘cause I need to move out of my parents’ house ASAP.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad about that, hun,” says Jamia. “Everyone needs to make a living.”
Frank sighs. “It just sucks ‘cause I do like him and he’s asked me out like eight times now. I just don’t have a heart to tell him I can’t go out with him ‘cause I need him to keep coming to the club so I can keep taking his money.”
“Yeah, maybe don’t tell him that, ‘cause it definitely sounds shitty when you say it like that,” says Jamia. “‘Kay, open your eyes.” Frank opens his eyes and then Jamia inspects her work. “Are you working the pole next?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Frank replies. “I’m gonna try to score a couple more private dances afterwards before I’m off.”
Once Jamia is finished with Frank’s makeup, she helps him get dressed in his stage outfit, which consists of shiny, black, leather mid-thigh-high lace-up stiletto heeled boots; a black leather thong; and his favourite black leather chest harness that makes him feel super sexy. Once he’s ready, Frank heads to the curtain behind the main stage and waits for the DJ to introduce him to the stage by his stripper name.
“…please welcome to the Celebrities stage your favourite prince in leather—the sexy, sultry…Anthony Lush!”
The crowd of mostly men cheers and whistles as Frank walks sexily out onto the main stage in his all-black leather outfit while his song begins to play. The club is packed tonight and there are several well-dressed men sitting up front, right against the table stage, so he’s expecting to make some good tips during his performance.
He starts by showing off his body while he does some impressive moves on the pole, earning him several whistles and bills being tossed onto the stage. He slides down the pole, spinning as he does, and then lowers himself into a full split on the floor, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers and more money to be thrown onto the stage. He then classily spins around on the floor and gets up onto his knees, spreading them apart as he sensually runs his hands down his body, along his inner thighs, driving the men up front crazy as they continue to empty their wallets for him.
Frank shifts onto his back and begins his floor routine, arching his back, touching his body. He then spreads his legs open, showing off his ass, and pulls back his thong for a moment to show off his smooth, tight hole. The crowd cheers and whistles loudly and another influx of cash rains onto the stage. Once Frank is on his knees again, several of the men up front tuck large bills into the waistband of his thong and he blows each of them a kiss and winks at them, hoping they’ll buy dances from him after his performance.
Frank performs one more song before his stage time is up, and then he heads over to the bar where a friendly patron buys him a shot of alcohol. He then goes out into the main area of the club and begins his walk-through; mingling with the crowd, looking for a wealthy-looking guy to flirt with.
Several men slip bills into his thong as he walks through the club and compliment him on his performance and on how he looks and what he’s wearing tonight. Frank takes it all in and he’s feeling incredibly confident. That is, until he spots a familiar face at the bar.
It’s the traffic cop who’d pulled him over and ticketed him last weekend—Officer Way. Frank’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. The cop is out of uniform; off duty, presumably, and he looks even more attractive than Frank remembers, dressed in an expensive-looking shirt, sport coat and slacks. Frank feels insanely nervous to see him for some reason, and wonders what the fuck he’s doing here. What if Jamia was right about him being a creep? he wonders. He contemplates hiding backstage and telling his coworker that the cop is here, but before he can even make his move, the man is approaching him from across the room. He can’t hide now.
“Lush,” Officer Way begins, not-so-subtly checking out Frank’s body as he stands in front of him, several inches taller than the younger man. “I saw you dancing up on stage a while ago. Impressive.”
“Oh, thank you,” says Frank, feeling uncharacteristically timid as he blushes.
“Do you remember me?” The man asks the question in a way that says he already knows the answer but just wants to hear Frank say it.
“Yeah, I remember you,” Frank replies. “You’re the reason I have to work an extra shift here this week.”
The officer chuckles. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself though. At least, you did when you were up onstage a while ago,” he says. “What else do you do here?”
“I do lap dances, and I do private dances in the champagne room.”
The man nods thoughtfully. “How much for a private dance from you?”
“For you?” Frank thinks for a moment. “Three hundred,” he says with a slight smirk on his face.
The officer chuckles again. “Damn. That’s how much the ticket I gave you is for, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Three hundred fucking dollars. That’s a lot of money for a broke-ass boy like me, y’know.”
“So, you want me to pay your speeding ticket like I’m your sugar daddy or something? You wanna be my little whore for an hour?”
Frank swallows hard, caught off guard by how turned on he is by the way this man is speaking to him. “Yes, please.” He nods slowly, thinking this might be the kind of fantasy the guy is into and that if he goes along with it, then he might earn some serious cash. He takes a step closer to the man and sensually places his hand on his firm chest, looking up at him with doe eyes as he coyly bats his eyelashes. “For three hundred, I’ll be anything you want me to be, daddy.”
Gerard promptly takes out three crisp hundred dollar bills from his wallet and tucks them into the waistband of Frank’s leather thong. “Show me the champagne room.”
With his heart pounding in his chest, Frank takes the guy’s hand and leads him to the back of the club, down the hallway that leads to the private rooms. He’s not exactly sure why this guy is making him so damn nervous. He thinks it’s a combination of the fact that he’s the same cop who ticketed him, he’s irresistibly attractive, and he has this authoritative way about him that makes Frank want to instinctively drop to his knees and obey. If he’s being honest, he’s never been more turned on by a customer and they haven’t even gotten to the back room yet.
When they get inside of the champagne room, which is dimly lit by vibrant pink and purple LED lights, Frank shuts the door and Officer Way immediately goes over to the mini bar.
“What do you like to drink?”
“Tequila sunrise.”
Frank is surprised when Officer Way starts making the drink for him and then hands it to him in a short glass. “Thank you.”
The man pours himself a short glass of bourbon and then sits down on the red velvet chair in the middle of the room. The chair is positioned directly across from a wall which houses a large mirror with a fancy, black, Victorian-style frame. Frank goes over and sits down on the officer’s lap; he inadvertently notices the man’s wedding band when he brings his glass of bourbon up to his lips and takes a sip of his drink.
“My wife and I separated recently; I’m not here to cheat,” says Officer Way, clearly noticing the way Frank is eyeing his wedding band.
“I don’t care, and I didn’t ask.”
“The only reason I’m here is because I was curious about what it is that you do here,” the man says. “I’m not even gay.”
“You don’t know what goes on at a strip club?” asks Frank skeptically.
“I’ve never been to a gay strip club before,” the officer clarifies. “I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Huh.” Frank quickly downs his drink and then sets the empty glass down on the ground. “It’s pretty much the same.”
“I can see that now,” the man says. “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah,” says Frank, feeling another wave of nervousness come over him. “We can’t kiss though.”
The man smirks a bit. “Too bad,” he says. He finishes his drink and sets the glass down on the floor next to Frank’s empty one. “Stand up. Take off that thong,” he orders.
“Wait. Can you tell me your name first?”
“It’s Gerard.”
Frank now stands up in front of Gerard and he can tell by the look in the man’s eyes that he’s doing all kinds of dirty things to him in his mind while he watches him undress. This is unlike any private dance he’s ever done—he’s usually the one calling the shots, not taking orders from the customer. But, for some reason he can’t see it going any other way with this particular man.
Frank stands naked in front of Gerard except for the leather boots and chest harness he’s wearing.
“Turn around; show me your ass. Dance for me.”
Frank turns around and begins to slowly sway his hips to the beat of the music. He feels like he’s giving his first private dance all over again with how nervous he feels.
“Bend over; show me your hole.”
Frank slowly bends over and touches his toes. He puts his hands on his asscheeks, spreading them apart to show Gerard.
“Yeah, that’s it,” says Gerard in a low voice. “Your fucking hole is making my mouth water.”
Frank moans softly, feeling his dick get a little hard. He doesn’t mean to, it just slips out.
“Turn around. Get on your knees.”
Frank turns around and drops to his knees without question. He gets closer to Gerard and puts his hands on the man’s thighs, noticing the prominent bulge at the front of his pants.
“Look up at me.”
Frank looks up at the man from where he’s kneeling between his knees.
“Are you my whore?”
Frank nods. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m your whore, Gerard.” Frank naughtily rubs his face against the man’s hard cock.
“Good boy.” The cop has a pleased look on his face once Frank looks up again. “Get up here. Ride my dick like it’s inside you.”
Frank is slightly caught off guard by Gerard’s bluntness but he does as he says and sits in his lap and begins dry-humping him.
“You want it, don’t you?” asks Gerard, his voice rough and his fingernails digging into Frank’s hips. “You want my dick inside you, you little slut?”
“Fuck yeah, I want it, Gerard,” Frank says breathily, surprised at how much he really means it. His hard cock is straining against the man’s shirt as he continues to dry-hump him, soaking a spot on it with his sticky pre-cum. They’re both staring at each other intensely as though they’re both imagining it’s the real thing.
Gerard briefly looks down between their bodies at Frank’s pre-cum-covered cockhead before looking up and meeting his eyes again. “Damn, baby…” he says quietly, licking his lips. “You excited?” he asks, smirking.
Frank bites his bottom lip and nods as he continues to look at Gerard intensely. “Yeah.”
The man chuckles a bit. “Turn around; face away from me.”
Frank promptly turns around on the man’s lap and then feels one of his strong hands reach up and wrap tightly around his throat. He feels a little apprehensive for a moment and his own smaller hand instinctively shoots up and covers the man’s larger one, not sure where this is going and whether or not he should call for security.
“Shh, I’m not gonna hurt you, baby…” the man says gently, a smile evident in his voice as he slightly loosens his grip on Frank’s throat. “Just wanna show you who’s in charge here,” he says. He firmly rubs his palm against Frank’s lower abdomen; his hand is so close to the head of Frank’s cock and it’s driving the younger man insane as he squirms around on his customer’s lap. “I just wanna wrap my fist around your cock; milk the cum out of you with one hand while I choke you with the other…all while my dick is inside you…”
Frank lets out an involuntary, strangled-sounding moan at hearing the man’s words and the sexy voice in which he says them. “I… Oh my God…” he says breathily.
“You want that, boy?”
Frank nods his head vigorously, unable to speak because of how turned on he is right now.
“Tell me you want it; use your words.”
“I want you to make me cum so hard,” Frank half-moans.
“Good boy,” says Gerard in a pleased-sounding voice, as though he’s praising a beloved pet. He takes his hand off of Frank’s throat now. “You can get up now, put your thong back on.”
Frank gets up and looks at Gerard, confused. “You paid for way more time than that,” he points out. He doesn’t want this to end.
“Consider it a generous tip,” says Gerard as he smooths out his shirt.
“Will you be back?” asks Frank, not caring how desperate he sounds.
“No,” says Gerard, smirking a little, clearly realizing how horny Frank is for him. “Not here.”
“Then where?”
“Give me your number and I’ll tell you where and when to meet me,” says Gerard. “I’ll make it worth your time—money-wise and otherwise.” He takes his phone out from the pocket of his slacks.
Frank impulsively gives Gerard his number without any hesitation. He desperately wants to see him again and to do more with him. If it wasn’t going to affect his employment at the club, Frank would definitely be on his knees sucking the guy off right now.
“You’re gonna pay me?” asks Frank as Gerard puts his phone back into his pocket.
“Yeah. Want you to dance for me again,” says Gerard. “I’ll get a hotel room. It’ll be like our own exclusive club.”
Frank’s head is spinning dreamily just thinking about how amazing Gerard’s plan for their next encounter sounds. Almost too good to be true…