Gay Billionaire - 10 Erotica Gay Romance Bundle

Billionaire Gay Lover

By: Chris Johns

 

I know I"m a slut, I didn"t care, I was also a high class, unadvertised rent boy, and didn"t care. I came from the mean streets of East London and I cared about that.

I wanted the world, I wanted to be the male equivalent of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, the prostitute who marries the billionaire.

I worked as an assistant store man at the Ford Motor Works at Dagenham in Essex, England. When I finished work each day I cycled home to my parents mean little terraced house in town. It had two miniscule bedrooms, two small reception rooms and a kitchen and bathroom, neither of which had enough room to swing a cat. I didn"t go out during the week and I never spent any money that I could avoid. The only saving grace of that existence was that I had no siblings so I at least had a bedroom to myself, huh, bedroom, more like a rabbit hutch.

Saturday nights that changed. I donned a designer outfit that cost me more than one month"s wages. I looked worth a million dollars. Into the West End of London and the Inn on the Park Cocktail Bar from 8pm until 10pm, nursed one cocktail. 10 to 12 The Hilton, Park Lane, same routine. 12 „till 2, The Dorchester, if I wasn"t lucky enough to get a punter, home on a night bus. If I got a punter I made upwards of five hundred pounds for the night and most Saturday"s I got a punter. The money got salted away for my rainy day.

Pretty shitty existence you say and you"d be right, but let me tell you about me.

Nicky Old, eighteen years old, reasonable education, very articulate, (I used to belong to the debating society at my school). That got me a load of grief from my mates but I wanted to be able to talk to people. I thought good communication skills would get me

out of my lower working class environment. Fully grown now and about five foot nine, 140 lbs of the sexiest looking male you"ve ever seen and that isn"t boasting. I could make a couple of hundred pounds every night for a f~uck and that was from my work mates, but that wasn"t what I wanted. I had a really neat body that I kept in shape at the local gym, good pecs, an obvious six pack, nice legs. I had a tiny waist, slim hips and a butt that made people gasp when they saw it. The package at the front wasn"t going to shame me either, not enormous but bigger than average. Oh, and just to make it all worthwhile I had a shock of golden coloured curly hair that sat on my head like a golden fleece. The palest blue eyes you"ve ever seen sat in a face to launch a thousand ships just like Helen of Troy, the problem was no one appeared to want to carry me off to their kingdom. I didn"t get depressed but boy did I have to work at that.

The next Saturday, same routine. Ten o"clock and I turned from the bar to leave the Inn on the Park for pastures new and walked into the dishiest man I had seen all night.

“I"m truly sorry, I must learn to look where I"m going.”

Accent, f~uck no, I sounded like I belonged here. Dishy man steadied himself with a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me,

“No harm done, stay and have a drink with me so that I can prove to you I"m not upset.”

Accent, yes, but not much. I picked it up though, somewhere in the Middle East, that"s oil, that"s money, so I turned the charm up to high gear and stayed for a drink.

Introductions completed, me Nicky, him Jean Pierre. Me, surprised, he definitely was not French.

I had another cocktail he had a beer and I found out, he was Tunisian. Nice guy, educated in England, quite suave but not yucky

suave. I really liked him, he was witty, articulate like me, very complimentary about my looks and my dress. We both learnt lots about each other, I was even half honest about my background, interrogation then.

“Why do you come here Nicky, drinks must be a horrendous price for you?”

“They are a bit, but one day this kind of place is going to be my local bar, I"m not always going to be poor.”

We had been chatting for ages, I was surprised when I looked at my watch and realised it was after midnight. I needed to head for The Dorchester if I was going to stand any chance of a punter.

“I"m sorry, Jean Pierre. I must go now. It has been a pleasure meeting you.”

I was ready to go then already starting to stand up.

“Nicky, please don"t. Come back to my apartment for a nightcap and then you can stay for the night or I will get my chauffeur to drive you home.”

I told him I couldn"t. It was then that he shook me to my core.

“Please don"t be insulted Nicky but I think you are a rent boy. If I"m correct will you stay with me for the night for 1,000 pounds?”

Shit, would I.

“I"m not insulted Jean Pierre, but how did you know?”

“Unfortunately, Nicky, I have had too much experience picking up rent boys to not pick up on it. I am surprised you haven"t come on to me.”

I shrugged, “I guess I just liked you too much to let you think badly of me.”

“I don"t and I won"t. 1000 pounds to me is less than nothing so it is less in percentage terms than you leaving a pound tip for the barman.”

I looked at him and saw the laughter in his eyes, not at me but for me.

I laughed too. “Ok, just this once.”

We didn"t even need a car to get to his apartment and what an apartment. Huge, my parents whole house would have fitted into his lounge. He showed me round and by the time we got back to the lounge I was speechless. I had been in some nice pads but this was stupendous. Not only was it huge but the furniture and fittings were as luxurious as anything I had ever set eyes on.

He told me to sit down and did I want a drink.

“Yes please, can I have a fruit juice?”

“Nothing stronger?”

“No,” I replied, “To be worth 1,000 pounds I have to be sober or

I won"t be able to perform at my best.”

I said it in a matter of fact tone and he laughed.

“I tell you what Nicky, you have whatever you like, if you are less than perfect I"ll give you another thousand pounds to stay and see if you can get it right tomorrow.”

I was rendered almost speechless again. This guy was being so nice and didn"t appear to be worried whether I was good in bed or not.

“I"ll still have a fruit juice I think, Jean Pierre.”

He shrugged and got me a juice, he had the same and we sat talking for another hour before he asked me if I would like a shower before going to bed. Of course I said yes, when a punter asks you if you want a shower he is as good as telling you he wants a thoroughly clean body to play with, so I said that would be nice.

“I want to give you an enema first, is that ok?”

“Sure, no problem, that could be fun.”

I knew that would make him laugh.

We went through to his bedroom and undressed just looking at each other as we did it.

“You are a beautiful young man Nicky, I"m going to enjoy your body.”

I blushed he was being really nice.

He had a great body as well, really toned but not over muscled. Both naked and he gave me an enema not prolonging things or embarrassing me in any way and then we hopped into the shower, both together and still enough room for a football team. Multiple spray heads, it was great.

He told me to shower him first and then he would do me. That was great I had scoped out his whole body by the time I had finished and got him a massive erection. He was bigger than me both in length and thickness but not too big for me to feel uncomfortable at the thought of him reaming out my arse with it. Surprised then, he told me to give him a blowjob before he cleaned me up. So I did.

I licked his balls first while I stroked his cock to get the feel of it. After a little while I used my hand to play with his ball sac while my mouth took charge of his cock. Really hard, it sat at an angle of about 45 degrees to the horizontal so I could lick all round it without using my other hand if I wanted to. What I did do was use my thumb and forefinger to open his piss slit and stick my tongue in it stabbing away for a minute while he squirmed. Then I licked the glans, lightly to start with adding more pressure gradually before taking the whole thing in my mouth and swabbing it with my tongue paying particular attention to the underside just below his circumcision scar. F~uck he was on a hair trigger he shot blast after blast into my mouth. I could tell then that he was a clean living guy because his cum still tasted sweet like my own. I kept sucking him gently until he went soft and I was sure I had all of his love juice in my stomach.

“Now you know why I needed to cum before we got to bed, I wouldn"t have lasted long enough to get inside you.” He pulled me gently to my feet and for the first time kissed me. Wow, was he ever a cool kisser, I melted. He bathed me then getting me rampantly hard but he didn"t let me cum. All dried off and with a new toothbrush supplied to clean my teeth we retired to his giant bed.

He lay down on his back in the centre of it and said to me, “Ok Nicky, pamper me until I am so turned on that I will want only one thing and that is to bury my penis into your cute butt.”

This was great I loved playing with a body as buffed as Jean Pierre was, lovely nipples to stroke and kiss, pecs and abs to run my

hands and tongue over as well. He was very responsive and it was easy to find his erogenous regions. He loved being rimmed but he didn"t want me to penetrate him with anything other than my tongue. I was having a ball. I definitely wanted him to f~uck me but I loved playing with him first. He let me play for about half an hour. I was amazed that he...