Playboy For Hire

ALWAYS

A month after graduation, I moved in with Quinn.

I was still working for Heartbreakers Anonymous, but less, now that I had another income stream. I must have been the personal shopper for half the residents at Swanndale now, and I’d also helped some of them set up social media accounts. A woman named Lucille Anderson was paying me to manage her TikTok account where she reviewed torrid romance novels and gave out sex advice.

“Auntie Thea says she finds it shameful,” I told Quinn, dipping my paintbrush back into the can of paint. “But yesterday, Lucille posted something about covering a guy’s dick in Cool Whip before sucking him off, and I swear I heard Thea tell Violet that Cool Whip from a tub wouldn’t have the right consistency, and that you’d need something that came out of a spray can.”

Quinn paused in moving his paint roller across the wall and looked at me in horror. “Did you have to tell me that? That is not an image I need in my head.”

“Of Thea, or Lucille?”

“Either.”

I grinned at him. “Too late.”

I walked back to the wall and crouched down, running my brush along the edge of the baseboard. Quinn and I had decided to repaint one wall of the living room when I’d moved in, taking it from a pale greige to a deep, royal blue. It was going to look great as a backdrop for the couch and the art Quinn had on the walls.

We worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Quinn muttered, “Shit.”

I looked up. He’d gotten a splotch of blue on the crown moulding. I stood up to get a better look at it.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “We can probably wash it off, if we’re quick.”

“Can you hold this?” Quinn asked, extending his roller towards me. “I’ll go get paper towels.”

“Sure.”

I reached out for the pole, but he let go before I’d quite gotten a hold of it. I made a grab for it with my left hand—my right still held my paintbrush—and missed. The roller bonked me in the face, then fell to the dropcloth on the floor.

“Oh God, are you okay?” Quinn asked, looking worried.

I blinked, my nose and left cheek suddenly cold. “I have paint all over my face, don’t I?”

“Only half of it.”

I laughed. “Phew. What a relief, only half of my face is covered in paint.”

He grinned. “If it helps, it’s kind of a good look on you.”

“Only kind of?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Who am I kidding? It’s a very good look.” He stepped over to me. “Everything’s a good look on you.”

He leaned in and kissed me, paper towels temporarily forgotten. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. Even after months together, I still got tingles every time we kissed. The man lit a fire inside me. My cock stirred, and I pressed my hips forward, wanting more contact.

Quinn was hard—I could feel his cock pressing up against the ratty pair of sweatpants he wore with his high school initials on the thigh. We were both dressed in old clothes that we didn’t mind getting paint on, but I didn’t think Quinn was wearing boxer-briefs under his pants, and that was a delicious discovery.

“Mmm,” I said, nipping at his lower lip. “Looks like some part of you means that, at least.”

He laughed. “Ryder, I’m like, permanently turned on by you. You could be wearing a full Easter Bunny suit with those big weird eyes and I’d still want you.”

“Why, Quinn, you never told me you were a furry,” I teased. “Your birthday is coming up. Should I rent one of those?

“Oh God, please don’t. Those rabbit suits are so fucking creepy. The eyes are like looking into the emptiness of deep space. I was just making a point.”

I nipped his earlobe. “One of these days, you’re going to slip and tell me what your kinks actually are. And then I’ll be unstoppable.” I pulled back to give him a triumphant look, then burst out laughing. “Oh no.”

“What?” Quinn asked.

“Your face is covered in blue now too.”

He looked aghast, then giggled. “Should have thought of that before I kissed you, huh?”

“Wait a second.”

“What?” He frowned.

“Can you, uh, turn around for a minute?”

He gave me a suspicious look but did as I asked.

“Shit.” I’d managed to paint a bright blue stripe down the back of Quinn’s shirt with the paintbrush I was still clutching in one hand.

Quinn turned back around. “What did you do?”

He really should have looked ridiculous with smears of paint all over his face, but instead, he just looked more delicious.

“I might have turned the back of your shirt blue.” I winced and held up the offending paintbrush. “Sorry?”

“It’s okay. It happens.” He took the brush from me with a sigh—then deliberately splotched two spots of paint on the front of my T-shirt, swooping the brush in an arc below to create a smiley face. He grinned. “And now we’re even.”

“Even?” I said, doing my best to sound outraged. “Me painting you was an accident. You painting me was—”

“Deliberate, wanton vandalism.” Quinn smiled wickedly. “What are you gonna do about it?”

I gave him a serious look. “Well, I’m not going to escalate things. Unlike some people I know, I would never deliberately use a paintbrush on someone.” I snatched the brush away and bent to put it on the floor. Then I swiped my bare fingers through the can of paint, stood, and planted my hand on the center of his chest. “I’ll use my hand instead.”

“Oh, this is war now.” He ducked to scoop up some paint with his fingers and flicked it at me. I gasped, and reached for more paint myself.

What followed was the equivalent of a food fight between two grown men, if the food were zero-VOC paint and the cafeteria were Quinn’s apartment, which was rapidly taking on the appearance of a long-lost Jackson Pollock.

I wondered if we should stop. Quinn usually kept his place pretty clean, and I didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t get his security deposit back, but when he spilled half the can of paint down the back of my T-shirt, I lost all restraint.

I went for him full-throttle, wrapping my now very blue arms around him and tackling him to the ground. It wasn’t enough to get his clothes messy. I owed him some payback for the fact that my back was now the same color as Cookie Monster.

I tugged his shirt off and sucked at the skin on his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone, all while feeling for the can of paint with one hand. He writhed underneath me, moaning when I reached his nipples—and then gasped as I pulled back and painted five long stripes down his chest with my fingers.

“You fight dirty,” he said.

“I fight to win.”

“Lucky for me, I think I’m winning no matter what happens,” Quinn said, hipping up underneath me, pressing his cock against my body. “Though if you’re done with my chest, there are other parts of my body that could use some attention.”

I laughed. “You want a handjob? I could use a little paint as lube.”

“I was actually thinking of my ass, more than my cock. And while I don’t mind looking like a Smurf on the outside, I don’t need paint inside my asshole, thanks all the same.”

“Okay, so that’s a no on Smurf-kink, then.”

“Is there anybody who would actually be a yes on Smurf-kink?” he asked.

“It’s a big world out there. I’m sure someone’s got one.” I bit my lip, wondering if I should say the rest of what I was thinking.”

“Uh oh,” Quinn said. “Does that sexy lip-bite mean you have one, and you’re debating how to tell me?”

“Please. If I had a Smurf kink, I would own it, loud and proud.”

“Then what’s got you doing your whole, ‘I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to stand here and look extra kissable,’ schtick?”

“Excuse you, I do not have a schtick. And anyway, I’m not standing.”

“I’m aware of that,” he said, thrusting up against me again.

“I was just wondering,” I said slowly, “if maybe you could fuck me today?”

Quinn’s eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” His pupils were dilated, and he was staring at me like I was something marvelous. Miraculous. Something he needed to hold tight and never let go.”

“I mean, I’m a little nervous. But I also want to try it.” I knew I was flushing. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve kind of made it sound amazing. But if you’re not into topping—”

“Look at you using your gay slang,” he interrupted.

“Bisexual slang, thank you very much.” I laughed. “But until yesterday, I lived with two other guys who also slept with dudes. And I exist in the world. I think everyone knows what topping means by now. Auntie Thea probably knows.”

Quinn held up his hands like he was warding off evil. “What did I tell you about images I don’t need?”

“You know, she was talking a lot about Jimmy Sullivan yesterday,” I said. “If he actually does propose, they’ll probably be getting up to some—”

“Oh my God, are you trying to kill the mood?”

“Old people have sex, you know.”

“Yeah, and that’s great, but when the old person is someone I’m related to, it’s just not an idea I need to dwell on.”

“Sorry,” I said. Then I whispered. “Do you think they’d use condoms at their age or—”

Quinn clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, you’re cut off from talking anymore today. I’m going to put painter’s tape over your mouth if you don’t shut up.”

“Kinky. Are we doing some bondage play?”

“The more that you suggest kinks I might have, the more I’m starting to think you have all of the ones you bring up.”

“It’s true,” I said seriously. “I’m a furry, submissive, Smurf fetishist. You know all my secrets now.”

“Well, not all of them.” He winked. “There are still some parts of you I’ve yet to explore. But why don’t we change that?”

He slid out from under me and got to his feet, then leaned down to give me a hand up.

“Oooh, where are you taking me? Some secret sex dungeon in this place I haven’t seen yet?”

“I’m taking you to the bathroom so we can shower. But if we need to make a stop at the junk drawer so I can gag you, believe me, I will.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I thought about it for a moment. “But that would honestly be a shame. There are so many more interesting things I can do with my mouth…”

“Oh, you think so, do you?”

Quinn tugged me into the bathroom. He stepped over to the glassed-in shower and turned the water on. Then he stripped out of his sweatpants. I was right—he had nothing on underneath.

“I know so,” I said, leaving my own clothes in a pile on the floor. I followed him into the steamy, hot shower. “And I’d love to show you, if I’m allowed.”

“I’ll allow it. But you’re on probation, remember.”

“Prison roleplay? Quinn, you kinky devil.”

“Probation is after you get out of prison.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know.” I ran my hands up his sides. “Please, officer. I didn’t mean to steal those Twinkies. Isn’t there anything I can do so you don’t send me back to jail?”

Quinn pushed me against the wall of the shower, then took my hands and pinned them above my head. “You’re a menace.”

“To society?” I gave him a flirtatious grin.

“Just shut up and kiss me again.” He let go of my hands and caught my mouth with his. The kiss was passionate and demanding, and I hummed as his body pressed against mine.

We looked like two melting Crayola crayons, the paint washing off of us in waves, turning the wall and floor of the shower a brilliant, sapphire blue. Thank God it washed off easily. Soon, it was just the two of us, naked, standing under the water’s flow.

I looked down at his cock, hard and wanting, and took it in hand. I stroked him as I pressed my lips to his again, closing my eyes as the water splashed down around us. He groaned in pleasure as my hand worked his cock.

“Fuck, I want you inside me,” I told him, and felt his cock throb in response to my words.

“Okay, yeah.” Quinn’s voice was breathless. “Let’s just dry off and—”

“Fuck drying off.” I was rock hard, my cock aching for attention, and desire pooled in my core. I didn’t want to wait. “Here.”

“Here?” He looked at me doubtfully. “You want your first time bottoming to be standing up, in a shower?”

“Is that a bad idea?” I asked, realizing suddenly that I had no idea if this was even possible. I’d read somewhere that you could use conditioner as lube, but I’d never tried anything like this.

“It’s not a bad idea, exactly,” he said. “But it’s a little like going down a black diamond the first time you put on skis.”

“Good thing I like going fast.”

I kissed him again, marveling at the feel of his hard, warm body against mine. I ran my hands over his nipples, small and hard, and stroked the thin line of hair that started at his chest, ran down over his belly button, and ended at the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock. I wanted to map every inch of his skin until I knew it by touch, sight, smell, and taste. I nipped at his neck, then moved my mouth lower.

“Have I ever told you you’re gorgeous?” I asked.

Quinn laughed. “I think the word you’re looking for is good-looking.”

I couldn’t help laughing too. “That’s a straight-guy word, remember? The things I want to do to you are definitely not straight.”

I sank to my knees, the water still falling down around us like rain. But I didn’t take his cock into my mouth yet. Instead, I licked his belly button, then ran my tongue up the side of his stomach.

He flinched. “You might want to stop. I’m ticklish there.”

“Mmm, but you’re also delicious.” I ran my tongue down his hip.

“Yeah, but you’re going to end up with a black eye if you keep doing that. I can’t be responsible for how my elbows flail if you keep making me jump.”

I pulled back and looked up at him. “I’d be willing to take that risk. But do you seriously want me to stop? Because I will.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You’re too fucking good. No one has ever cared about what I want this much.”

“It’s what you deserve.”

It was true. Quinn was magnificent, and I intended to spend the rest of his life showing him.

He just smiled in response, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, eyes locked, the waterfall of water holding us in our own private world.

I was the one who moved first, bringing my mouth to the head of his cock. He tasted like himself. Not a hint of paint, just water, skin, and salt. I slid my mouth down around him, taking as much of him as I could. He moaned. I wondered if someday I could learn to repress my gag reflex and take all of him. I caught his eyes, and the look he gave me was full of love and desire. I wanted to see how he’d react if I could take him all at once.

He seemed to like what I was doing now just fine, though. I sucked him in and out, using my tongue to tease the head of his cock, then pulling off to lick his balls. He slid a hand onto my head, his fingers sliding against my water-slick hair. He thrust forward, his cock demanding more attention, and I obliged, working him into a near frenzy before I pulled off.

“Oh God,” Quinn gasped. “You had me so close.”

“Good.” I grinned devilishly. “Now you know what it feels like to stop when you don’t want to.”

“When did I stop you?”

“When you dragged us in here to clean off, instead of staying out in the living room.”

“You wanted to have sex while looking like a Smurf?”

“Smurf bunny prison sub, at your service.” I gave him a little salute.

“You’re ridiculous.” He pulled me to my feet and pressed me against the wall again. “And you’re really good at giving head. Did Amir and Raf give you tips on that, or are you just some kind of savant?”

“That’s it. We’ve finally found my one, true talent. But don’t worry, I won’t use it for work. I’m saving that all for you.”

He brushed a kiss across my lips. “So have you ever done any kind of assplay before?”

“With myself?” I shook my head. “It always seemed kind of intimate, and since I was only doing one-night stands, there wasn’t much time to get to that. And I wasn’t sure I could reach my prostate on my own.” I grinned. “I guess I was saving myself for you.”

He snorted. “You want me to give you a promise ring?”

“That depends. Does it have to go on my finger, or could it go on a different appendage?”

“I think for today, it’s a good thing none of us has anything on our fingers. Wouldn’t want something to come off and get stuck somewhere. I’d hate to have to go to the ER before we finish painting that wall.

“And you complain about me ruining the mood.”

Quinn laughed. “What, it doesn’t turn you on, thinking about having something small and metallic lodged inside your ass?”

“I guess that would make me a Smurf bunny prison medical kink sub. But if I had to choose, I’d much rather have something large and fleshy up there instead.”

I stroked his cock and bit my lip again, now that I knew he thought that was sexy.

“Slow your roll,” he said. “We’ll get there.”

“Well, get there faster. I want you inside me before the water gets cold.”

Quinn frowned. “I don’t think subs are supposed to be this bratty.”

“Because you would know all about that?” I asked with a lascivious smile.

“If I have to get into discipline with you, I will.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Now turn around.”

“Yes, sir.” I gave him another salute, then turned, excitement and nerves warring in my stomach.

Quinn adjusted the angle of the shower head so the spray landed on the lower half of our bodies, then grabbed a bottle of conditioner from the ledge on the far wall. He coated his hand, then returned the bottle.

“I’m just going to start with one finger,” he murmured in my ear.

It was a little weird, having him behind me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his mouth on my neck, my back against his chest. I wasn’t used to being the little spoon or the smaller partner, and it made me feel both vulnerable and taken care of.

I was amazed at how much I liked Quinn’s finger, though. I’d thought it might be painful, but it slid in easily, and tingled and tantalized the nerve endings in my ass. Soon, he’d added a second finger, and at three, I was pushing back onto him, begging for more. When he hit my prostate, I convulsed.

“Holy hell, that feels incredible.”

“Good. It’s supposed to.”

“I need you to fuck me, Quinn. Like, now.”

I thought he would take me like that, right up against the wall, but instead he pulled me towards the far wall of the shower. He moved the conditioner, shampoo, and body wash out of the way, then sat back on the ledge.

“I want you to be on top,” he said. “That way you can control things. And I get to watch.”

My stomach turned a somersault. I’d never thought my first time bottoming would be like this, but as steamy mist filled the air around us and Quinn looked at me with hungry eyes, I decided it was pretty much perfect.

He slicked up his cock with conditioner, and I eyed it, chewing my lip again. I wondered if I could take all of it.

“Only do what you’re comfortable with,” he said, as if reading my mind. “You don’t have to push yourself.”

I flushed, but internally, I told myself I would try. I wanted to. I wanted all of him.

“How do I…?” I began.

Quinn took my hand and tugged me towards him. Then he turned me around so my back was towards his chest.

“Here, straddle my legs.” He pushed his thighs together so I could stand on either side of them. “Then rest your weight on me.” He pulled me down so I was sitting on his lap. I could feel his cock press against the small of my back. “Then, when you’re ready, you can—”

“Do this?” I said, standing halfway up and bringing the head of his cock to my hole.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You look incredible, Ryder.”

A frisson of pleasure ran down my spine at his words. I liked looking good for him. I couldn’t see him, but I pictured his eyes roaming across my body. His breath grew shallow and quick as I brushed his cockhead back and forth against my hole.

And then I sat, letting it slide into me, and I was the one whose breath went funny. I gasped as I pushed down onto it, feeling the head of his cock spread me open. Even though I knew he was big, he was somehow bigger than I expected.

And there was a stretch. It wasn’t painful. More like the deep, satisfying pull of stretching a muscle after a workout. When I finally felt the fat tip go all the way inside me, I had to pause and catch my breath.

“Okay?” Quinn asked.

“Fucking amazing. I just need a minute.” I shook my head. “How the fuck did I go this long without trying this?”

“I honestly have no idea.” He chuckled. “I was experimenting, putting things up there, as a teenager, so I can’t imagine not trying.”

“Sounds like I have years of practice to make up for.”

My thighs were starting to shake. I did squats on leg days, but even with quads of steel, staying poised halfway onto Quinn’s cock wasn’t something I could do forever. I sank farther back and groaned.

“Holy shit, you’re so big,” I moaned.

“It’s okay, baby, take your time.”

But I didn’t want to. I wanted all of him, and while I wasn’t sure I could take any more, I also knew my thighs were about to give out. So I surrendered to it, letting my weight fall, letting his cock push all the way into me until I was resting on his legs again.

I groaned at the intrusion. It felt like he was lodged in my stomach. A laugh escaped me as I remembered crashing Quinn’s date at Bar Onze. I’d said something about that to his date. I’d had no idea then I was speaking the truth.

“Holy shit.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “Holy shit, it’s so big.”

Maybe other people would have tried to build up to this, but I was glad I hadn’t. I was glad I’d shown Quinn I could take everything he could give me. Showed him how much I wanted—needed him. And now that I knew what it was like to be filled by him, I knew I was going to want this again and again.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Quinn ran a hand down my back, then tucked his chin over my shoulder, his voice at my ear. “You look so fucking good.”

“You feel even better,” I told him.

I shifted experimentally on his lap—not pulling off, just sliding back and forth. I moaned again. Jesus, that felt good. I understood now what people said about the male G-spot being in the ass.

Quinn ran his hands down my sides, letting one come to rest on my thigh while the other gripped my cock. I thrust forward, sliding my cock further into his hand and sliding one inch of his cock out of me. Then I leaned back, and felt him sheath himself completely inside me again. I had to bite back another laugh at how amazing this felt.

“Oh God,” I whispered as I raised myself up, then sank down again. The deep penetration gave me something I hadn’t known I needed. It was almost too much.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Yeah, I just…I don’t think I’m going to last very long. Sorry.”

He laughed lightly. “You don’t have to apologize for that. ‘Sorry, I like your cock too much,’ is not a problem.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna—I mean, I want this to be good for you too.”

“It already is.” Quinn nipped at my ear. “Come for me. I want you to. You look so good, just like that. And you feel so good on my cock.”

The words sent a wash of warmth through my body, and I realized suddenly that with all my joking about kinks, I’d never considered this one before: Praise. Quinn’s words lit me up from within.

His hand moved on my cock as I slid up and down on his. I let it fill me each time I sank down, reveling in the sliding motion, the hot, hard cock stretching me out. I never wanted this to stop, never wanted the feeling to end, but God, I didn’t know how much longer I could last. Everything inside me built and tightened.

“Come for me, Ryder,” Quinn said again, and the wave of pleasure rising within me crested and crashed down, flooding me with pleasure as I did just what he said, coming into his hand.

My whole body shuddered, and I closed my eyes, riding the high of my orgasm. His left arm closed around me, hugging me to his chest, as his right kept working my cock. I whined in ecstasy, only touching his hand when the stimulation finally became too much.

“Holy shit,” I moaned. “Oh my God.”

“Good?” he asked.

I just laughed. I didn’t know how to put it into words. How this orgasm was like none I’d ever felt before. How he’d knocked down walls I didn’t know I had. How I’d never known I could feel this good, this whole.

“Perfect,” I told him. I felt safer here with Quinn than I had in ages. A silly thing for sex to make me feel, but there was no denying it.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked after a minute. I was still breathless, and my head felt a little spacey. “Where do you need me?”

“Right here is just fine,” he said. “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

I nodded, and Quinn began to move. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much he’d been holding back before. How still he’d kept himself, how completely he’d let me take control.

Now, his hands gripped my hips and he thrust up into me, pushing his cock deeper inside and taking all the pleasure he could from me. I was still so raw, so tender. It was almost too much. But there was a sweetness there too, and as Quinn’s breath came faster, I knew he was close.

I wanted to help, so I did my best to clench around his cock. He moaned, his thrusts coming faster, and then his hands were clenching my waist.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned.

I felt the moment he came, felt his cock twitch inside me over and over. Warmth flooded me, knowing I was the one who’d brought him to this point. I felt powerful and loved at the same time.

When he finally stopped moving, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. The shower was still going, and the whole world felt reduced to just the two of us, here, together. I didn’t need anything else. I could die happy, just like this.

“I love you,” Quinn whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Even though I didn’t let us use blue paint as lube?”

“Even though.” I laughed. “Is paint kink a thing?”

“It’s like you said. Big world out there.”

“What if being with you is my kink?” I asked him. “Because I honestly think I’d be happy doing anything with you.”

“Even if it means getting out of this shower and going back to painting the wall?” he asked with a laugh.

“Even then.”

“Even if we have to go back to the hardware store to buy white paint to cover up my splotch? Because I think it’s fully dried by now.”

“Even then.”

“Even if I tell you we have to put our clothes back on to do all that stuff? That we can’t roll up to Home Depot naked?”

“That depends.” I looked over my shoulder at him. “Do I actually have to wear clothes? Or could I just wear a giant bunny suit?”

Quinn laughed. “I should never have told you I thought those were creepy, should I?”

“Nope, you really shouldn’t.” I took one of his hands and held it in my own. “Do you still love me, though?”

“Always,” he said, kissing the side of my neck.

I liked the sound of that. I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed it. “Always,” I repeated. “Always.”