Boy in Brothel

Published on Nov 20, 1997

Gay

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The Boy in the Brothel

In the brothel parlour I was introduced to the boys to make my selection. There was Peter, who I'd had before. He was young, slim, blond and very cute. I was probably going to take him. But I thought I'd just check out the others. There was some other guy I can't remember now.

And then there was Brendan.

Brendan was about 21, nearly 6' tall, with unruly black curly hair. He had a relatively slim body and a nice smile. I knew he was new to the place because I used this brothel fairly regularly and I hadn't seen him before.

Madam asked me for my selection. "Brendan" I said. Well, I may as well try the new guy - he could be fun and he was certainly good looking. And if he wasn't up to much, I could always go back to Peter next time.

And so to the bedroom, where I undressed and had a shower while waiting for Brendan to come back. When he came in he immediately started stripping off his shoes and shirt. I stopped him and held him in a hug. We kissed, and he smiled.

But he was impatient to get undressed, and he was soon standing as naked as I was. There was a bit of a bulge around the tummy, and some hairs on the chest, and a very bushy eruption of hair around his cut cock. He wasn't all that huge down below, but I don't think size is important anyway. Give me a smaller guy any day. On the other side he had a nice arse, although it was not as well defined as some. In other words, he was goodlooking but no model - very much the boy next door.

We lay down on the bed together and started getting serious. Soon I was on my back, a condom on my erect cock, and Brendan slipped his bum over my cock. There was a bit of a twinge on his face as he lowered himself onto me. He wiggled about a bit with me inside him. Then with that engaging smile he said "Well, that's my virginity gone".

"Your virginity? You mean you've never done this before?"

"Nope - at least, not having a guy enter me. I've done it the other way round a couple of times, and I've done it with girls, but not with a guy inside me. You're my first client, and you've taken my virginity" he said with a mock-serious look on his face. Then he smiled and lent over and kissed me.

I couldn't believe I was the first one to have this guy. We tried a few more positions and ended up with him on his back, his hairy legs on my shoulder and me pumping into him. There was a broad smile on his face.

"I didn't know you could do it this way" he said "and it feels great!"

I'm a bit slow in coming, if you know what I mean. I take time to work up to it. I must have fucked him for nearly a quarter of an hour in various positions before I finally came just as my half hour with him was up. With a kiss and a sigh we parted.

A week or so later I was back at the brothel. I didn't think I'd have Brendan again. I'd enjoyed my session with him, but I thought Peter would be more fun. Once again the guys came into the parlour one at a time. When Brendan arrived, he gave me that big smile and said "Well, shall we do it?"

What could I say? I was hooked. "Brendan" I said, when the madam came in, and away we went to the same room.

As we lay on the bed hugging and kissing, he said "You know, I'm glad you came back. You're the only man who's had me so far. I know I'm paid to say this, but I really like you."

This was getting a bit ridiculous. He'd been working at the place for nearly two weeks. How could I be the only one?

"I've had two clients since I saw you".

Well, that's possible, I suppose. It can be very quiet at times in this town.

"Neither of them wanted to fuck. They just wanted to do a bit of hugging and talking, that's all. They were weird, but different strokes, I guess".

I was starting to wonder about this guy. He told me on the previous occasion that he had a girlfriend, but she didn't know what his job was. And he thought they were heading towards breaking up. He was obviously bi, but not entirely sure where his sex drive was taking him.

We kept talking as we lay together.

"My mother found out what I do" he said. "She just guessed, I don't know how she did it".

"How did she take it?"

"Oh, pretty cool really. And it's good to have someone I can talk about it with. I'm quite close to my mother."

Not exactly the sort of conversation you expect in a brothel as you're working up to have sex with a cute young guy.

Once again I entered him, and once again he had that happy smile on his face as I slowly rogered him.

"I can't believe how good it feels to have you inside me" he said on several occasions. Somehow, I think he meant it. Maybe he's paid to say that, but it seemed sincere. Maybe I'm just a pathetic old fool. Let me dream.

A couple of weeks later I decided to have him come round to my place on an out-call. Of course he didn't know who I was - I'd just been a casual visitor to the brothel and hadn't given my name on the previous occasions. He knocked on the door and I opened it. Suddenly there was a broad smile on his face.

"It's you!" he said. "I'm so glad it's you. I get nervous with outcalls, but this will be great."

We kissed a lot - quite a lot, in fact. Soon we were in the bedroom. As we lay talking in my bed, he told me I was still the only one who'd entered him. He'd done a double with Peter recently, but that had involved giving Peter a blowjob. The parlour wasn't really very busy for the guys, only for the girls, and most clients wanted Peter. I could understand this - Peter was drop-dead cute - but I wondered what I saw in him that the other clients were missing.

This time I had an hour to spend, and I spent every minute of it kissing, hugging, stroking and, of course, fucking him - all with that happy smile on his face. At one point as we were kissing he said:

"You're the only client I let kiss me. I don't like the other guys kissing me, but you're different."

Do I believe this guy? Why not?

As he lay on his chest with me pumping in and out of his arse, from time to time I pushed deeper into him. He'd give a little sigh of pleasure as I did that before I resumed pumping him. After I'd finally come inside my condom, he rolled over.

"There's a bit of a mess on your sheet because I came while you were in me" he said. "I wasn't expecting it, but I thought 'Hey, I may as well see what happens' and I came."

Sure enough, on the sheet was a stain. So he did like this after all!

We lay talking for a while before he had to go.

"I'm getting the results of my blood tests next week" he said. "If they're OK, I'll let you have sex with me without a condom. I hate these little pieces of plastic. But I want to give you a good time."

I was stunned. Here was a professional prostitute - a pro twice over - in what must be one of the riskiest businesses in the world, volunteering to have unprotected sex with a client. He was either mad or he really meant it: he did like being with me.

Throughout the next week I found myself thinking of Brendan from time to time, looking forward to the end of the week. Friday came, and I rang up the agency. Soon he was on my doorstep again, that winning smile on his face. We kissed hard and long as usual, and soon were getting down to business on my bed.

"I haven't had the tests back yet, so you'll have to use a condom" he said. "I don't want you catching anything from me". Well, that was a nice way of putting it, I thought. So much for the offer of unprotected sex.

As we lay together after we'd made love, I held him close and said to him:

"I want to make you an offer that clients aren't supposed to make to guys like you. How about going free lance - cut out the agency, come over to my place on your own and we can spend a few hours together. You get the whole fee I would have paid to the agency, rather than just a share."

"That sounds really cool!" he said. "I'll be in that."

"How are we going to arrange this?" I said. "You'll need my phone number."

"And I'll give you mine, so you can ring me when you're free. By the way, my name's not Brendan but James. Brendan's the name they gave me at the agency. I think it sucks."

"Yeah" I said. "It makes you sound like the little fat boy in The Simpsons". We laughed, and kissed.

As we talked he told me a bit more about himself. His father had been a diplomat, and he'd spent some years overseas. But his parents had split up now, his mother working in town while his dad was interstate. He was in his last year at university, and was about to head into uni exams.

We arranged to skip the following week because of his exams. A week later he rang me, and we made plans for him to come over the next night. Three hours of this guy - what was I thinking of?

Next night he landed on the doorstep, with the same smile. But now, with three hours to spend, we could take a lot more time and not have to worry about the clock. We must have necked for over half an hour in the lounge, slowly getting undressed. Finally we went down to the bedroom and lay in each other's arms. He didn't say anything about the condoms, but as I lay on my back he eased his bum down onto my cock, which had no condom on it.

"Damn" he said. "I didn't bring any lubricant. This is going to hurt because I'm really tight."

He got off me and we lay together. Then he rolled onto his chest and I started probing his bum. Very slowly and very gently I entered him.

"If this hurts, tell me and I'll stop" I said. He winced a bit and I stopped, but I was already in him. After a pause I started again. Slowly I began moving in and out, testing to see how he felt. I wasn't going to force the issue: if he was hurting, I'd stop.

A minute later he said "Gee, that feels great. I didn't think it would, but I've relaxed a bit now and it's really good."

That must have been the longest fuck of my life. For nearly half an hour I pumped into him, long and slow. Finally I reached the most sensational climax I'd ever had.

We lay together kissing and talking afterwards for at least half an hour. "I felt you coming inside me" he said. "It was hot and spurting - it felt quite strange. But it was really good." I could really get used to this, I thought, as he lay in my arms and I caressed his curly hair.

He's coming round again tomorrow night. And I really could get used to this relationship going further. The question that keeps going through my mind, though, is: Am I a fool for getting involved with a pro? Am I just an aging guy who's besotted with some young guy who's happy to have sex for a fee? Am I really falling for him, or am I just enjoying an easy way to have sex?

Or is there something more, an easy friendship and an enjoyment of sex? After all, we get on very well. He's very friendly, we talk easily, he seems to enjoy my company and I enjoy his. He's told me far more about himself than I ever expected a prostitute would - pros surely want to keep their true selves private if they can, and avoid getting too intimate with clients. It's only a job, after all. Yet I'd have to say that we really are friends, and we really do enjoy being together. What have I got myself into?

I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

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