The Boyfriend Experience

The Boyfriend Experience

By

Alexis E. Skye

The Boyfriend Experience © 2012 Alexis E. Skye

Cover Design by A. D. Cooper

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and it may not be reproduced, retransmitted or otherwise redistributed in any form or by any means, without explicit written permission of the publisher.

This is an original work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, alive or dead, or real events is purely coincidental and unintentional. The material found herein contains graphical depictions of sexually explicit situations and is intended for mature audiences only.

Caffeinated Owl Press

http://www.caffeinatedowl.com/

For B

Without your encouragement I wouldn't

have made it this far.

And E & L

For all your "inspirations" and being

there to lend some helping hands.

Chapter 1

The faint but insistent buzzing woke him. It took him a few seconds blinking his eyes to realize it was his phone, vibrating against the smooth bedside table. He tried reaching for it, but the hairy, muscular arm slung over his waist pulled him back against a solid wall of muscle.

“Ethan?” The owner of the arm muttered in a raspy voice against the nape of his neck, barely awake.

“Ssh…” Ethan moved the arm gently from his waist before reaching back to peck a kiss against the man’s temple. “Just my phone.”

Sliding off the bed, Ethan picked up the buzzing phone and padded out of the bedroom, still naked. The sun was already up, and it cast a faint golden glow over the granite counters in the open-concept kitchen.

“What?” he answered the phone harshly as he looked around for his forgotten briefs from last night.

“This is your morning call, sleepyhead.”

“It’s eight in the morning on a Saturday, you jackass,” Ethan complained in a muted yell; Darcy had a terrible sense of timing.

“Eight in the morning is when normal people get up, Ethan,” Darcy said. “And why are you whispering?”

“Because John is still sleeping and I’m trying not to wake him? And since when are
we
ever considered
normal
people?” Ethan said as he looked under the black leather sectional. “Aha!”

“You stayed the night?” Darcy’s voice raised an octave. “That was not part of the arrangement!”

“Dude, chill. He said he’d pay; said he wanted to make me breakfast, so I said sure, why not.” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Darcy, you’re my agent, not my mother. And remember to add the extra time to the final invoice.”

“Jesus Christ, Ethan.”

“Hey, it’s my charm, what can I say? Plus, you’re getting a cut of that so stop your whining.” Ethan held the phone between his ear and his shoulder, awkwardly trying to pull on his shorts. “You still haven’t gotten to the part where you explain why you’re calling me at eight in the morning on a Saturday.”

“I’ve got a new client here that fits your specialty,” Darcy paused. Ethan could tell by his hollow sounding voice that he was looking for the file. “Here. Darren Chase. Ever heard of him?”

“Can’t say I have. Should I?”

“Well, he’s got quite a resume here. Hmm…” Darcy paused again. “You know what, call me when you’re home. I’ll email you his file so you can have a look before you decide.”

“Okie dokie. Bye.” Ethan hung up without waiting for a reply.

He plopped down on the sectional and let the soft leather take his weight, burying his face into his hand as he tilted his head back. He was wide-awake now after that phone call and there was no way he’d be able to go back to bed. “Damn you, Darcy,” he growled into his hand.

Rubbing his face a couple of times, he stuffed his phone into his coat that hung by the door and decided to go check on the man in the bedroom.

He padded back towards the bed, keeping his footsteps as light as possible. The man wrapped an arm around his waist when he sat down at the edge of the mattress.

“Morning,” the man said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“G’morning, John.” Ethan smiled, leaning down to give the man a kiss. “Didn’t mean to awake you this early.”

“Hmm… it’s okay but you’ll have to make it up to me.” John rolled onto his back, pulling Ethan down to lie on top of him. “Who was that?”

“Just work.” Ethan nuzzled against the firm, muscular chest of the man underneath. “You know, I remember someone saying he’s going to make me breakfast.”

“Oh, really?” John tapped his chin. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

“Or do you want me to make it instead? Breakfast in bed?” Ethan’s lips pulled into a smirk as he rested his chin on John’s chest. “You can sleep for a bit more while I get to work.”

“No, I promised you, and a man must keep his promises.” John pulled Ethan into a kiss before sitting up. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“You sure you don’t wanna join me?” Ethan arched an eyebrow as he climbed off the bed.

John snorted a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“I know.” Ethan grinned, giving the man a wink as he sauntered into the ensuite, closing the door behind him but not locking it.

He adjusted the temperature before stepping into the shower. The hot spray steamed up the bathroom quickly despite its spacious size. Dropping his head, Ethan let his mind wander as the water poured over his lanky frame.

The door opened and a pair of hands rested over his shoulder, massaging lightly before trailing down to his sides then his abs. He leaned his head back as John pulled him flush against his solid body.

“Mmm…” Ethan moaned as John’s hands traveled south, palming his early morning erection. He tilted his head slightly to the side to give John more access to his neck as he pressed his ass to the other man’s stiff length. “You know, if it were anyone else I’d be charging extra for this. You’re lucky I like you a lot,” Ethan chuckled as John nibbled and licked his way up Ethan’s neck.

“I know,” John hummed against the spot behind Ethan’s left ear, causing a small gasp of pleasure to escape Ethan’s throat.

He pressed Ethan against the glass wall of the shower, his hands caressing Ethan’s back lovingly before moving down to Ethan’s ass, pushing his cheeks aside to reveal his tight pucker.

Ethan’s chest began to heave as John pushed in, slowly opening him back up. He pushed his hips back, rocking against John and crying out as his actions sent John’s hard length deeper into him. John stabbed into his ass, grunting with each thrust.

The initial burn quickly dissipated into pleasure and the powerful thrusts left Ethan weak in the knees. Being pressed against the glass was the only thing keeping him standing up straight.

He reached for his own aching cock and began to stroke himself to the rhythm of John pumping into him. His moans became louder and louder as pleasure built towards his climax. “I’m coming!”

“Come on, baby,” John licked at the sensitive spot behind his ear, nipping at the skin there. “Come for me!”

“Oh god…” Ethan cried out as he streaked the glass wall with his load. He tightened his channel around John’s cock as he climaxed.

“Fuck!” John swore, speeding up his erratic thrusts before pulling out and spraying Ethan’s back with his warm cream.

John’s body was heavy as he draped himself over Ethan. They stayed still like that for a long moment, letting the water wash away the sweat and cum as their chests heaved.

Without a word, Ethan turned in John’s arms, reaching for the soap and began washing the man’s body. John pecked kisses into Ethan’s wet hair as he gently massaged the man’s body. After Ethan was done, John pulled him in for a long kiss before stepping out of the shower.

“Soggy bacon and eggs, right?”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah.”

* * *

Ethan climbed the stairs to his fifth-floor apartment and wondered for the third time in the past five minute why he didn’t just move somewhere else that actually had a working elevator. He hated the stairs.

He juggled the bags in one hand as he jiggled the lock open with the other. Once inside, he set the bags on the kitchen counter before taking off his coat and tossing it into the bedroom along with his shoulder bag.

“Damn, it’s cold,” Ethan muttered to himself as he turned on the heater. It was the end of November; it wasn’t quite winter yet, but it’d started to get uncomfortably cold in his apartment.

After putting the groceries away, he stripped off the polo, sweater and khaki combo and changed into jeans and a long tee. He huffed into his clasped hands before rubbing them to warm up.

He dug his laptop out from the coffee table under a pile of old newspaper and logged in. Frowning at the fifty something new emails of mostly junk, he ticked off the important ones and sent the rest to the trash folder.

The first email was from an online friend of his, emailing him an ebook on neoclassical art that he’d been looking for. He downloaded the book and archived the message. The rest were mostly forwarded messages from Darcy of his clients wanting to know when he’d be available for booking. He decided to look at them later.

The last email contained the file on the new client Darcy told him about that morning. Ethan pursed his lips, as he hovered the pointer over it.

“Ah, fuck it.” He’d read it later; he was hungry. He printed the file out and stuffed them into a folder, then went into the kitchen for food.

He cracked open a book that said “The Art of Strategy” on its spine after tossing some frozen leftovers into the microwave. The book was written by a pair of professors from Princeton and Yale and talked about game theory as applied to business and life. It was pretty heavy reading but he devoured it with interest just the same.

In his line of work it paid to be well-read, so he spent every opportunity he had to read up on anything that could come into use.

His phone buzzed as a text came in. It was from John.

Hope you got home okay. Cold outside, take good care of yourself. I’ll call after I get back from ATL. Love, J.

Ethan smiled. John was a great guy; one of his favorite clients. He was pushing sixty but he didn’t look it at all. A well conditioned body with a full head of hair on top of a handsome face and a sex-drive to match, no one would suspect John to be a day older than fifty. And he was genuinely a nice person, too. Ethan enjoyed spending time with him.

He couldn’t help thinking back to what John had said as he was about to leave.

“Ethan,” John muttered against his ear, resting his arms over Ethan’s shoulders and holding him from behind after Ethan had put on his winter coat. “Stay.”

“Stay with me,” he’d said. “Please?”

Ethan had smiled but shook his head. Turning around, he'd given John a lingering gentle kiss, cupping the side of his face with a gloved hand. “Have a good time in Atlanta with your family, John.”

This wasn’t the first time John had asked him to consider something a little more… permanent. It wasn’t the first time Ethan had refused the man either.

John was the CFO of a Fortune 500 company but he didn’t have the kind of arrogance typical of successful men in New York City, and that made him special. Ethan never minded giving the man extra service but John always insisted on paying him accordingly.

Ethan was what one would refer to as a “professional boyfriend”. As a high-end male escort, he provided the experiences of a real-life boyfriend to a very exclusive clientele of rich and famous men. His job was simple: make his clients happy, and make sure no one found out about his existence.

Ethan wasn’t his real name either. His real name was Nathaniel de Luca, but everyone called him Nate. Born in New Jersey, Nate had come to the Big Apple with big dreams, only to have his dreams crushed by reality. He worked a bunch of odd jobs here and there before he began working at a club as a go-go boy to make ends meet—and then Darcy had come along and introduced him to the world of escort services.

In another life, he would’ve loved to explore the possibility of a future with someone like John, if he wasn’t a client. And if the man wasn’t married with two kids his age.

But he was, on both counts. Too bad.

Plus, Nate wouldn’t say he was in love with the man. He was careful not to.

Nate had only one rule when it came to his job: Do not fall in love with the client.

What they did, it was all just an illusion. An illusion of love, built not on trust but on money and the necessity of sex. It wasn’t real and Nate was only too aware of that. He’d seen it with others who made the mistake of believing that fantasy. It never ended well.

The microwave beeped. He took his food out and ate as he continued to read.

The red folder with the new client's file sat on the couch next to him, distracting him from his readings. He had to admit, he was curious about the new client, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take on a new client. In fact, he’d been thinking more and more about how much longer he could do this for a living.