Money’s on the Dresser: Escorting, Porn and Promiscuity in Las Vegas (11 page)

“Daddy, you know I love your hole.” I say.

“Fuck yeah! Daddy, I love it when you play with my hole,” said Rodney. He loved to switch roles halfway through, so suddenly he became the little boy getting molested. It confused me at first, but I got used to going from being a small boy being molested to the child molester himself.

“I know you do, son. You like it when Daddy comes in your room and starts touching you?”

“Yes, Daddy, but what if Mommy comes in?” he asked.

“She won’t come in if you’re quiet. Just be quiet and we’ll be fine,” I said. As I pushed my finger in deeper and deeper, his eyes opened wider and wider. He began to whimper and I said, “Be quiet before your mother comes in.” As he lay back down, I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see Chad looking incredibly uncomfortable and uneasy. It took me awhile to feel okay with saying this stuff, or hearing it, but I finally realized it was this guy’s fantasy and I wasn’t there to judge or figure out why he liked what he liked. As with many other situations with clients, I needed to put my personal opinions aside and do what I get paid to do.

“Fuck, guys, I love having you both here stroking my dick. I love when you switch roles, Christopher. It drives me crazy.”

“I know you do, son,” I said and smiled at him.

“Okay, I’m really close to cumming, guys. What time do you have to leave Chad?”

“Uh, in like ten minutes, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. Christopher, come lie down here on my left side, and, Chad, come lie on the other side. I’m going turn on my favorite porn and jerk off.” He retrieved the iPad from next to the bed and turned on a porn with two guys. One of them was a hot, hairy, muscled daddy, and the other was a younger fit guy in a black mask.

“This is the hottest scene ever. This masked guy is going to stroke this guy off and call him daddy. Okay, guys, touch my body, and I’m going to jerk off.” He began to switch off between masturbating, watching the porn, and closing his eyes. He did this for a few minutes and edged himself closer and closer to a climax.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He turned to the porn and said, “That little boy is going to make him cum. He’s doing it now. Watch him, he calls him daddy as he strokes his cock.” So we all watched the beefy hairy dude in the scene shoot his load.

“Oh my God, you guys, I’m gonna cum,” and he did something I had never seen him do before. He took a giant deep breath and held it in. He continued stroking his cock for about ten seconds and shook his head back and forth like he was being choked. His face started turned purple, and he finally shot a load all over himself. After he came, he convulsed back and forth, gasping for air. I realized I was witnessing autoerotic asphyxiation for the first time. Wow, that was a new one.

We all lay together for a few minutes and Rodney continued to shake a little from the aftershock of the orgasm and loss of air. Chad got up to grab a towel, and I got up to stretch my legs.

“There are no more towels,” Rodney said. “My roommate and I used them up.”

“You have someone staying in here with you?” I asked.

“Yeah, some straight guy I work with.” I looked around the room and saw towels everywhere, clothes on the floor, oily handprints on the headboard and on the comforter.
Poor roommate
, I thought.
I wonder if he has any idea what is going on in his room?

I got up to shower, even though there were no towels. I spotted a small hand towel and figured that was good enough. There was no way I was leaving the hotel all greased up in baby oil and smelling like sweat. I would drip dry if I had to. I rinsed off in the shower and watched as Chad gathered his stuff together. I was trying to avoid an awkward good-bye, so I was happy to see him leave before I had finished rinsing off. I stepped out of the shower and dried off with the small hand towel and watched Rodney in his boxers wash up in the sink, taking a whore’s bath with a used face cloth.

“So, dude, I totally met a guy,” Rodney told me excitedly.

“Really? Who is he?”

“He’s this twenty-one-year-old. He’s so fucking hot, and can you believe we spent a whole week together? All he wanted to do was fuck the entire time, and I couldn’t even keep up with him. He’d beg for it like three to four times a day, and I’d say I can’t, but of course, I’d wait like five minutes, then we’d start fucking. It was so hot.”

“That’s great. Who is he? Where’d you meet?”

“We met on
seekingmillionaire.com
.”

“Is that anything like
seekingarrangement.com
?”

“Yeah, it’s a sister site,” he informed me.

“I set up a profile on Seeking Arrangement after someone told me about it, but it seemed like a lot of bullshit to put up with.”

“Yeah, it is, but I put my ad on this other site, and I clearly said in my ad that I didn’t want a gold digger. I wanted a young guy genuinely interested in older men.”

“I see. That’s pretty cool,” I said, although I was wondering what the chances were of a young guy looking for an older man on a site called Seeking a Millionaire not being a gold digger. Good luck, Rodney, because I don’t think such a guy really exists.

“Yeah, it was amazing. I even told him I love him.”

“Really? That’s pretty intense.”

“It is, but I really think I do.”

“What about your wife, though? And how the hell did you get away from her for a week without her becoming suspicious?”

“I go away for a week by myself every year, and I met this guy online, so I flew out and stayed in Denver for a few days, and we spent the whole time together. I think I’m going to leave my wife.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. To me this whole scenario had disaster written all over it.

“Yeah, I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I totally understand, but are you leaving her and your family to be with this kid?” I asked.

“Kind of, but I know the marriage isn’t working anymore. We haven’t had sex in over a year, and all we do is fight. I’ll give her half of everything and pay her alimony until my twelve-year-old girl graduates high school, and I don’t care. I know she’s going to take me to the cleaners, and I’m basically screwed.”

“Just be careful with this young kid. If something goes wrong, he could manipulate the situation and blackmail you. I’ve seen this happen with other guys and I would be wary of trusting such a young kid no matter what he says. Just stay guarded with what information you tell him. If he feels like you’ve screwed him, he could fuck you over royally.” I don’t know who I thought I was to be giving Rodney advice, but it just seemed like he could potentially be setting himself up for a huge disaster. I cared about him and have seen this kind of thing happen to a lot of men, but I didn’t think it was registering with Rodney. He was about to leave his wife, burst out of the closet, and marry his little “Anna Nicole Smith Boy Toy.”

“Yeah, I know that kind of shit happens. Didn’t something happen like that with an escort in Las Vegas?”

“Did it?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was all over the news. When I saw it on TV, I thought they were talking about you. Apparently, some escort blackmailed and totally screwed over this New Jersey politician.”

“I haven’t heard anything about it. That’s crazy, but it wasn’t me. I like being personable with my clients and getting to know them, but I learned a long time ago to keep my professional life and personal life separate. I have no interest in blackmailing clients, or even knowing more about them then they care to share. It just gets too complicated on both ends.”

“True, but I feel like it’s different with this kid. We spent the entire night spooning and cuddling and it felt great. We literally didn’t leave each other’s arms the entire night.”

It obviously sounded like he was in a place where he was yearning for close physical contact with a man. He had been starved of it his whole life and had been looking for it which explains the crazy fucked-up role-play situations we explored. Like other gay kids growing up, he had been looking for intimacy with another male and he ended up finding it in the arms of a child molester. He seemed like a smart enough man to know molesting a child was wrong, but you could tell his being molested as a young boy had shaped him and his sexuality for the rest of his life. I remember feeling the same way as a young kid, yearning for attention from another man that wasn’t rejection or teasing like what I endured every day. I realize this probably sounds unhealthy and a little bit fucked up, but I even remember thinking being molested by an older man might have been a way to help ease the pain of not having any intimacy at all. As a kid, I didn’t fully understand what sexual abuse involved, but I was in desperate need of some type of love and affirmation from a male and thought that was how you could get it. Hearing Rodney talk and spending time with him brought up some of my own unresolved stuff from my past and forced me to look at some issues I forgot existed.

I probably wouldn’t see Rodney for a few months, and I was anxious to learn how everything unfolded for him. He told me his goal was to just get through Christmas, and then he would begin the necessary steps to get the divorce. He didn’t want to be the asshole that left his family before Christmas, so he would wait until it was the New Year to start the process.

I wished him luck, gave him a hug, and was on my way.

Chapter Eight

Change Your Shirt and Walk Around the Room.

I received an e-mail from a man named Jimmy from New York saying he was visiting Las Vegas again and wanted to see me. He said he had seen me once before and would like to book another three-hour session and asked what the cost would be. I asked where I saw him before, and he replied he met me at the Wynn Resort with another well-known escort named Peter two years earlier. He asked if I remembered who he was, and I responded back with “Of course.”

It made me laugh when clients asked if I remember them, because all it really takes is for someone to tell me when and where I saw them before and one other thing about our meeting, and I can generally remember everything about our time together. Usually, all they had to say was what they did for a living, where they were from, or what weird or different thing we did together, whether it be piss, role play, verbal abuse, and so on.

I remembered my meeting with Jimmy vividly. We had met in a huge suite at his hotel in February 2010, and I was anxious to see if this meeting would be like the last. It had been strange, to say the least, and while we didn’t have sex or doing anything physical with each other, it was definitely memorable.

I got to the meeting a few minutes late because first I slept through my alarm and then I had to meet a friend to pick up a costume I was wearing for Halloween, which was in two days. I was already annoyed because I wasn’t able to eat a big breakfast—which I have to do every day—drink my coffee, and go to the bathroom and douche. Whether or not I was going to be fucked by a client or for a porn shoot, I needed to be sure I was completely cleaned out and my insides felt empty. The last thing I want is for there to be a mess and have to excuse myself to go clean up. This only takes up time for both parties, is not the most pleasant smell client is trying to get “in the mood,” and is somewhat embarrassing.

Jimmy was staying at the Wynn Resort again. When I arrived, he opened the door and was waiting with an escort I knew named Nick. He and I had become friends over the past few years, co-workers, and occasional fuck buddies. Clients liked to see us together because we kind of had this little brother–big brother thing going on. We had similar body types and were both blond with blue eyes, but the main difference was that he’s about five foot five, and I am six foot one.

Nick was already shirtless and barefoot, which probably meant they had already begun. There was a pile of T-shirts, polo shirts, and ball caps on the dresser, and Jimmy was naked from the waist below with a raging hard-on and a bottle of KY in his hand. Obviously, he was ready to go.

Jimmy went to sit on a chair in the living room in front of a huge set of windows overlooking the Las Vegas Strip. It was a beautiful, sunny fall day in October and I was a little annoyed I was missing the cool weather outside. It felt like one of those days where you want to put on a warm sweater, grab a coffee from Starbucks, and head to the park. Vegas had very few sunny days with mild weather, so when it was nice the locals would eat it up.

The room was gorgeous and beautifully decorated. The Wynn and the Encore Hotel (the newest Wynn property) were two of the nicest places to stay in Las Vegas. I saw a lot of clients there and generally the ones I saw always had a lot of money and were very generous. The name “Steve Wynn” meant one thing in Vegas, which was class. Not too sure if the activities I was about to partake in were apart of Steve Wynn’s vision for his hotels, but I’m sure he wouldn’t care as long as he was making money. In Vegas, like anywhere, we all had our price and nobody really cared what anybody else was doing as long as their own needs were being met.

Jimmy was sitting there quietly, just looking at both of us, stroking his dick. “Nick, come sit on my knee and play with my nipples. Christopher, take your shirt off and walk around the room,” he instructed. It looked like we were going to be doing the exact same scenario as I had done with him before. None of it really bothered me, but it was very different from what I was used to. It could be confusing for a first-timer taking part in the session.

I took off my shirt and threw it on the sofa, then began to pace the room.

“You like that don’t you, Nick? You’re a little pretty boy and I love your chest. You have the most amazing body. You are so fucking beautiful, and I can’t stand it. Christopher, isn’t he beautiful?” he asked me.

“Yes, he is,” I answered.

“Christopher, take off your pants, underwear, shoes, and socks and stand in front of me.” I did as I was told and stood in front of them both. “Oh, my God... Christopher, you are so fucking gorgeous. Isn’t he gorgeous, Nick?”

“Yes, he is,” Nick shyly answered as he looked around the room. I had already been through this with Jimmy, so it wasn’t new to me, but I remember the first time I met him I found the whole thing to be awkward and unlike anything I have ever done. Jimmy didn’t really do anything with us, instead he just brought in a pile of T-shirts, polo shirts, and ball caps and had us constantly taking off clothes and changing into new things.