The Reluctant Rent Boy

Chapter 1

Bastian fussed, tucking Hunter into bed, the double set of latex gloves not allowing him to touch his friend skin to skin. Hunter insisted, though the risk was minimum. Bastian had read all the pamphlets, talked to the doctors and had himself tested so many times it was a wonder he had any blood left. Comfortable Hunter? Need anything else? Bastian asked as his gaze traveled over the dozen or so bottles of medication on Hunter’s nightstand. NO! Stop hovering. It’s annoying. Hunter snapped and then smiled weakly. Sorry. I just hate this. Hate being so…useless. he added. Oh, babe. You’re not useless. You’re sick. Bastian answered, and then snapped his mouth shut before he went into lecture mode. What was the point? It was too late now. Hunter was HIV positive. There was no going back. And over what? Some gorgeous, but inconsiderate asshole? A man that infected his best friend over the ambiguous feeling of love and then walked away? It still rankled Bastian to know that man was out there, most likely infecting others. He was nothing more than a serial killer as far as Bastian was concerned. It would do him no good to say that to Hunter. His best friend had learned the hard way, and still, inexplicably, loved the jerk.

Bastian? Hunter said. Yea? Bastian answered from the bathroom as he got a large glass of water to set on the nightstand, after removing the gloves and dropping them in the wastebasket. Hunter’s 7 pm meds were due. Mr. Smithson called. He would like to see you tonight. Around 10 pm. Hunter said. Bastian sighed heavily as he set the glass down. He saw Hunter’s look of pity…and guilt. Don’t. he whispered. Hunter turned away, unable to remove the look from his face. Out of all Bastian’s clients, Mr. Smithson was the one he wished he could dump. But he was his highest paying client. The man was a real piece of work. Big and burly, he liked his sex rough…very rough. Bastian always came away from that trick with considerable bruising and an ass so sore he couldn’t sit for a couple of days. Take your meds. Make sure you take the blue capsule too. Bastian said and left Hunter’s room. He dragged his feet into his own room, shucked his clothes and went to take a shower. Religiously, he washed his body from head to toe, shaving every particle of hair from his skin. Once dry and before he dressed, he added the one item necessary for any meeting with Mr. Smithson. A large, black butt plug. He lubed it generously and inserted it, twisting it so it was seated deeply. Once dressed, he wandered back into Hunter’s room to find his friend asleep, the water glass clutched in his hand. Bastian gently pried Hunter’s fingers from the glass and returned it to the nightstand. He stood, gazing down at his friend, overwhelming sadness making the side of his lips turn down. Hunter was only 24 and Bastian knew Hunter might not make it to 25. Life was so unfair! Hunter was beautiful, generous, caring and an incredible lover. It wasn’t right that his life was to be snuffed out so painfully. Bastian left the room quickly before he succumbed to tears.

Bastian pulled up outside the seedy motel. Mr. Smithson’s preferred meeting place. It was always the same. Room 10. Mr. Smithson had smugly joked that it referenced his ten-inch dick. Bastian snorted at the memory. It was true, but still a lame…and conceited joke. He shut off his car and sat for a moment. He always had to psyche himself up for a visit with Mr. Smithson. Bastian knew that wasn’t the man’s real name, but he also knew Mr. Smithson was married and a deeply closeted homosexual. Bastian contained a wry smile. Most of his clientele were closeted. In reality, he only had one client that was not. Baxter. But tonight, it wasn’t about Baxter, who was gentle and caring. Tonight was about Mr. Smithson and Bastian hoped there would be no calls tomorrow, because he would not be physically able to satisfy another for a while after tonight.

He exited his car and made his way to room 10. He knocked on the door, and then entered without waiting for a reply. He tossed three condoms on the cracked table. He stripped quickly, dropped to his knees, and removed the butt plug, spreading his legs wide. He threaded his fingers behind his lowered head and waited. Mr. Smithson expected submission. The huge man didn’t use toys or punishment paraphernalia, but he did demand obedience. He heard Mr. Smithson enter the room from the tiny bathroom. Hello Bastian. came the deep voice. Sir. Bastian answered with no emotion. Seconds later, Bastian’s hair was grabbed painfully, his face wrenched back and that ten-inch dick being shoved into his mouth all the way to the back of his throat. Oh yea. Love to fuck that sweet mouth of yours. Mr. Smithson grunted as he rutted violently past Bastian‘s lips. Bastian hated this part. On more than one occasion, he’d had to struggle desperately not to gag. Not from the size of the man’s cock, since Bastian could take that and more without hesitating, but because Mr. Smithson didn’t seem to understand the function of a shower. He was thankful that Mr. Smithson never had the desire to climax into his mouth. The man preferred to be buried in Bastian’s ass when he came. Bastian endured, his jaw aching, lips sore and swollen and the bottom one split from the force of Mr. Smithson’s thrusts. When Bastian felt the man tense, he knew the blowjob was over. Out of the innate sense of survival, he loosened the muscles of his body as Mr. Smithson grabbed him and tossed him on the stained sheets of the small bed. The first time with Mr. Smithson, Bastian had been tense, and the man had nearly broken his arm. But Mr. Smithson had shelled out $1,000, so Bastian kept his mouth shut. That paid for almost two weeks of Hunter’s medication. Had it not been for that, Bastian would have dropped Mr. Smithson like a scorching rock.

Mr. Smithson was on top of Bastian before he even had a chance to catch his breath. The big man didn’t kiss him. Bastian didn’t allow that. One of his rules, and generally, his clients didn’t want to do that anyway. He was a rent boy, not someone they actually cared about, or respected. They used him and he used them. That was all there was to it. But Bastian pushed at the hulking man as he ground his erection against Bastian‘s soft member. Condom, sir. he said in a no nonsense voice. Mr. Smithson growled, but heaved himself off Bastian and grabbed one of the packets Bastian had brought. Another rule. Client’s used Bastian’s rubbers, or he left. No exceptions. As he watched the big man rip the packet open and roll the condom onto himself, he willed his body to relax. There would be no lube used. Mr. Smithson claimed to be allergic, but Bastian wasn’t stupid. The man got off fucking Bastian dry. It was going to hurt…bad. But it was worth the money the man paid. Anything to make sure Hunter had his medication and the chance to prolong his life a little longer.

Turn over. Gonna fuck that ass hard. the man ordered. Bastian quickly flipped over, lowered his head onto his crossed forearms, presented his ass and took a deep breath. He felt the big hands on his hips and held his breath