Rumor Has It (Longwood U)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

SPARROW

I usually only go to Rumor a couple times a month unless they text me and ask for my presence. Honestly, it’s unreal to me that people are asking for me to show up and have sex with other people. For money.

I don’t necessarily consider it sex work because it’s not something I do consistently. It’s all a game to see who can go the furthest without backing out.

Rumor is run by one of the school’s fraternities—Delta Iota Kappa. If you don’t see the pun, I don’t think you should be able to become a member, in my opinion. Yes, these guys belong to ΔΙΚ. Translation? DIK.

Is it really any surprise that they’re running an operation of gay chicken to fund their fraternity?

The frat house is large. I know a good portion of the money they make from this gay chicken venture is to keep the house updated and looking nice with all sorts of luxurious features like an indoor pool, a chef’s kitchen complete with a full-time chef, a cleaning service, and constant expansions to their property.

I suppose the most amusing thing is that the location of Rumor has been a long-kept secret unless you’re invited in. The fact that this secret isn’t hidden all that well is what makes me laugh. You walk in the front door of their frat house—where there’s always someone to admit or deny your entrance—and literally follow the phalluses and erect dicks to the door in the basement with a plaque that reads RUMOR.

My texts usually come from Wyatt, who I’ve never actually met. Which is what brings me here today.

The man at the door is usually one of three. Their attire ranges from stuffy bellman uniforms, to medieval armor, to Speedos and everything in between. Today is an in between. He’s in a sexy little get up of fishnet, lace, and some strategically placed silk. I’ve been here long enough that I’m now privy to some of their workings. The men who man the door are pledges. Thus, the crazy outfits.

“Hey, Edgar,” I greet.

Edgar sighs. “Hi. Card please?”

I hold up my black card and he scans the QR code on the back. He nods and gestures inside.

“Looking good, Edgar,” I say on my way by, replacing the card in my wallet.

He sighs again. “Thanks, River.”

The inside of the building is regal, furnished with modern amenities but made to look old. It’s all intricately carved exposed wood that’s hiding secret doors behind bookshelves and under the stairs, and rich paint and wallpaper. There are priceless statues and art, expensive oriental rugs, and mesmerizing chandeliers that glitter and sparkle in the sun.

The steps into the basement are only slightly less impressive than those leading up to the floors above. I’ve been to the second floor with one of the frat brothers. He wanted some tips on blowies. I gave him a lesson or two.

The door to Rumor is closed, but as soon as I’m within a few feet, it opens, and I’m greeted by Ezekiel. He’s a cool guy. Good looking. Friendly. Amused by the whole thing. He’s also one of the camera men.

“Hey, man,” he greets and does the whole bro handshake thing that’s not quite a handshake or a high five but something in between.

“Hey, Zeke. Fresh meat for me to fuck up?” I ask.

He snorts. “Wyatt wanted to refill our River fodder for the account, and what your fans are asking for.”

“Jimmy back? ”

Zeke shakes his head. “Nah. He was in yesterday looking for you. I told him you were just here so you wouldn’t be back for a while. Then Wyatt called you in and here we are. Lying to the lying-to-himself ‘straight’ boy.”

I chuckle. “All in a day’s pay,” I tease, flashing him a smile.

“Indeed. Come on. Let me show you who we have. This one is brand new, and I think he’s going to be fun.”

“I’m impressed by your ability to judge men,” I say.

“Mmm,” he replies. “We’re in room one.”

“That’s my favorite.”

He snorts.

The three bedrooms down here are all the same. A spacious room housing a large bed with several different pieces of furniture for us to play around with, and an en suite for cleanup. There’s enough space all around for the two cameramen to get different angles and avoid getting each other in the shot.

“You get to choose your dinner.”

There are two men in the lounge. One is standing over the foosball table, chewing his lip. He’s cute, twinky blonde. I’m guessing he’s already been questioning his sexuality.

The second guy is… gorgeous. Brown hair. Deep brown eyes. I can see his lean, toned figure through his tight shirt.

“I think you know,” I say.

Ezekiel chuckles. “Indeed. Meet you in the room.”

“I’m not into blondes,” I add as I turn around, just so he doesn’t choose the wrong guy. As I’m moving back down the hall, I muse that there’s no way he doesn’t know that I’m at least bisexual. Seriously, how could he not?

I get in the room and slip out of my shoes. There aren’t any blankets on the bed, but there are always sheets. I remove the pillows, stacking them on the shelf in the closet. Pillows just get in the way. I unzip my hoodie and slip it off. As I’m tossing it away, Ezekiel arrives with the brunette guy and the second cameraman, Dalton, on his heels.

Dalton gives me a nod as he moves to the side of the room.

The man I chose freezes in the door as he stares at me with big, brown eyes. I think he’s holding his breath. His entire body looks like he seized up .

“Dak?” Ezekiel prompts.

The man, apparently named Dak, jolts, blinks, and glances toward Ezekiel.

“You okay? Still want to do this?”

Dak takes a deep breath and nods. “I—Uh… yeah. I’m fine.”

Ezekiel inclines his head in my direction, indicating that he wants Dak to come in the room so he can close the door.

Dak very visibly takes a breath and then steps inside. His footsteps are hesitant, but he eventually stands next to me, a pretty flush on his cheeks. I try to keep my smile small, unthreatening. Amused. But really, this guy is gorgeous. Where has he been hiding?

“Dak, this is River. River, Dak.”

Dak looks at me and for a second, it doesn’t seem he can look away. Then he blinks, offering me an unsure smile and a slight nod.

“You look nervous,” I say.

He snorts/huffs/laughs under his breath. “You don’t look nervous,” he answers.

“River is unbeatable in our games,” Ezekiel tells him. “He’s a fan favorite.”

Dak glances at me from the corner of his eye, but keeps his attention on Ezekiel.

“Okay, here’s the rundown. You’ve already signed the paperwork, swearing silence and anonymity and permission to post it on our paid platform. Yes?” Dak nods. “Good. Here’s the deal. This is basically gay chicken—for pay. For each step—there are twenty—you can earn $50 for a total of a grand. The first one to back out, doesn’t get paid. If you make it to the end, you both earn $1,000. Any questions?”

Dak licks his lips, and my gaze gets riveted on his tongue. When my eyes flicker to his, he’s looking at me, his cheeks heated. He nods. “No.”

“Do you both freely give consent for everything up to and including penetrative sex?”

We both answer yes.

“Do you both understand that a ‘no’ or ‘stop’ means stop and you will back away immediately?”

Dak glances at me. “Yes,” we agree .

“Good. Ready when you are,” Ezekiel says, picking up his camera from the table.

Dak looks at Ezekiel and then Dalton, his gaze flickering between the two. Is it the men in the room that are making him nervous or the cameras?

I touch his cheek, making him jump, and gently turn his attention back to me. “Ignore them,” I say gently. “Focus on me.”

His chest fills and he lets it out slowly.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“If I back out now, do you get paid?” he asks, voice quiet.

“No. I’ll move on to the next.”

His shoulders tense. Ohh. He doesn’t like that. My smile climbs as I gently follow the trace of hair along his jawline. His eyes are so damn beautiful. Captivating.

I nearly forget what we’re doing when I lean in to press my mouth to his. He inhales, his lips parting. I slip my hand to the back of his head and pull him closer, angling his head so I have access to his mouth and the nervous breaths he’s taking.

Dak’s response is immediate. His hands land on my chest, drop to my stomach, and tangle in my shirt as he alternates between enthusiastically kissing me and hesitation. I don’t often care whether I drive the activity or am along for the ride; I win either way.

It’s truly amusing when guys come in here thinking they’re going to show me a thing or two, and rarely make it past touching my junk before they throw themselves off me. Their bravado only goes so far.

And I can’t be intimidated. How do you intimidate a gay man with gay shit, anyway? I suppose they don’t know that, though.

Dak isn’t forceful. In fact, he’s pliant, if not timid. Keeping my hand at the back of his head, I push my fingers into his hair, and he moans. Oh, that’s right, gorgeous. Show me you enjoy this. When I grip his waist and pull him against my body, I’m pleasantly unsurprised to feel exactly what I thought I’d find. Tight muscles. Lean figure. He’s not bulky at all. I don’t get the impression he’s going for bulk. This is a body that’s used to staying in shape.

His hands tense on my stomach and then wrap around my waist. His touch is just as shy as his kiss, though he’s sinking into it. Losing himself. Forgetting that we’re being filmed and aren’t alone in the room.

Slowly, I back him toward the bed. The backs of his knees hit and his mouth comes off mine. Eyes wide, he’s suddenly reminded where he is. His eyes flicker around the room, spotting both cameras and the men holding them.

Instead of laying him down, I swap our position, so his back is to the boys and sit back on the bed, pulling him with me. His cheeks heat. His eyes still dart to the side, catching sight of Dalton.

Gripping his chin, I force his attention on me. “You want me to get behind the camera, Dak?”

The blush in his cheeks burn, but he shakes his head. Pushing myself backwards, I keep my grip on him and guide him on top of me. He follows, his knee between my legs.

“Give me your mouth,” I tell him, and he does, bringing his lips back to mine.

It feels as if he’s trying to forget that he’s being watched. Determinedly kissing me, forcing his attention on me alone. I grip his hips and pull him down so his body covers mine. I’m thrilled to feel his dick hard against my thigh, though when he rolls us onto our sides and brings our bodies apart, I think he’s not ready to acknowledge his arousal quite yet.

Still, arousal is the point of this game. I keep him close with my arm under his waist and curled around his back. His hands are both planted firmly on my chest, but I don’t plan to keep still. I lift his shirt and rest my hand along his bare skin. His flesh is hot. His muscles twitch and flex under my touch as I move up his torso and grip his pectoral. There’s a dusting of hair there, making me wonder if that’s regrowth or if he’s only got this hint.

I don’t know that I care either way, but I need to see. I need to see all of him. I tug his shirt and Dak pulls away to let me take it off. I divest myself of mine at the same time and then bring his mouth to mine again. But he pulls away and drops his eyes to my body.

While I touch him, his eyes examine me, and I wonder what he thinks. I’m not nearly as lean as he is. I’m thin but not hard. I’ve got some hidden pillows under my skin .

It’s obvious Dak likes what he sees though. He licks his lips, as his fingertips move over my skin.

I hook my hand in his jeans and wait to see if he’s still good. He shivers, but doesn’t stop me. Slowly, giving him plenty of time to back away, I unbutton them. Unzip them, then pull his body back on top of me and push his jeans down while he’s hovering over my body.

He helps me take them off, leaving him hard in his boxer briefs. I can already tell he has a good dick. Thick. Full. Heavy balls. Look at that head. Unable to stop myself, I trace the shape of his cockhead through his underwear. His dick jumps. Seriously jumps.

Grinning, I meet his eyes. “Touch me, gorgeous.”

His eyes drop to me again. He takes a breath, adjusts his weight, and runs a hand over my skin. He spends several minutes doing just what I told him to—touching me. I reverse our positions again and remove my pants so he’s left looking at me in my underwear.

“Mirror me, okay?” I murmur.

Dak swallows and nods. I cup his dick through his underwear. His hips jerk toward me and his cheeks pinken as a result. I rub him, feeling how much his body enjoys this.

“Your turn,” I say.

His lips are parted, his breathing stilted. I’m sure his hand is shaking as he reaches for me. Our angle isn’t quite optimal for this, but he feels my dick through my underwear. Slowly, tentatively at first.

“Ever touched someone else’s cock?” I ask.

His eyes don’t leave where his hand is as he shakes his head. “No,” he whispers.

“Want to see?”

The uncertainty in his eyes when he meets mine basically screams at me. I still wait for his consent, though. He’s on the line of staying and running. I can feel his body tensing, reading to bolt.

I’m not sure what’s driving him. I’m pretty sure it’s not to prove he can beat me, and it’s not money. I’m not even sure whether he’s just a straight man questioning. So I don’t know how to make him more comfortable right now.

“Yes,” Dak admits eventually .

I adjust, getting up on my knees and pushing down my underwear. I shimmy out of them before straddling his hips again. Trapping his hard-on under me. Letting my balls rest on his throbbing dick.

Dak stares. He doesn’t move as he stares unblinking at my cock. I’m just over seven inches, not enormous but impressive. At least, I think so. I have no complaints and have had no complaints. I’m also quite good at using it if I do say so myself.

“Ready to touch me again?” I ask.

Dak swallows and nods, but he doesn’t move. I take his hand and guide it, wrapping it around my dick. Then I let go.

For a solid minute, he doesn’t move his hand at all. Doesn’t adjust his grip. Just remains absolutely frozen with my cock in hand.

I lift my hips and push his underwear away so I can take his cock in my hand. Maybe if he feels me rubbing him, he’ll remember what to do with a dick in his hand.

Dak groans when I take him in my fist and stroke him from root to tip. His hand clenches around me and I shiver in appreciation.

I’m not sure if Ezekiel’s movement reminds him where we are, but his head snaps to the side and he freezes again. He’s camera shy. That’s definitely it.

Leaning over him, I pull his attention back to me and take his mouth with mine. He wants to get lost in it, but he’s far too aware that there’s someone there. Recording this moment. Preserving it forever once it gets loaded onto the internet.

I coax him into playing. With my tongue. With my hand. With my hips. Slowly, he relaxes then gets into it. He loses himself in what he’s doing, though I’m not sure he truly realizes he’s jerking my cock. Dak’s too lost in me touching him.

Time to step up this game.

Releasing his mouth, I move down his chest and nip at his pec. He shivers when I flick my tongue over his nipple. Taking the small bud into my mouth, I suck on him experimentally. Some guys really get into it. Others don’t seem to notice at all.

Dak is somewhere between. His back arches slightly, but his breathing doesn’t change. I know what will fill this room with sexy sounds though. I continue further south, and his hand slips from me since he can no longer reach. As soon as I take the tip of his cock in my mouth, his hands tangle in my hair tightly.

“Jesus,” he mutters.

Oh, he enjoys having his dick in a mouth. I’ve barely started!

I bury my face between his legs, taking his perfect cock to the back of my throat and feel his entire body come to life. His legs box in my head as he groans loudly. His hands in my hair shove my head down, forcing me to take more of him.

I look up, finding his head thrown back, his body arched beautifully. I bet he’s hot as fuck when he comes. I’m going to see it.

But first, let’s win him another $50.

It’s not easy getting my mouth off him. Not with the grip he has on my hair. But I manage and move up his body, taking his mouth with mine. He kisses me hotly. I’ve bypassed curious to the point where this man is seriously turned the fuck on. Dak’s forgotten everything except that he wants to come.

He turns his body to mine and rubs our cocks together, moaning into my mouth. I grip his ass, hauling him in. What a good boy he’s being. And Jesus he tastes like a fucking treat. Sexy noises. Sexiest body. Perfectly sexy dick. I need to see his hole. I need to feel it.

But first, I want to see how this perfect mouth fits around my dick.

“Your turn,” I tell him and move him where I want him.

Dak doesn’t hesitate. Right up until my cock is in front of his face. He takes a shaky breath, eyes darting up to mine.

I smile, brushing his hair from his forehead. “Let’s see those lips ringing my dick, gorgeous.”

His breath is still shaky when his eyes move back to my cock. And dammit, before he can lean in, he remembers the cameras. Dalton is behind me and I see the moment Dak sees him. His entire body tenses.

“Dak,” I murmur. “Ignore him.”

Dak nods, forcing his attention to my cock. But he’s far too self-conscious now, even as he licks his lips. He looks back and forth as if he can’t help himself.

“Dak—”

He shakes his head and bolts upright. “I can’t,” he blurts. “I’m sorry. I can’t. ”

I watch, a bit surprised as he rushes into his clothes haphazardly and darts out the door.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen someone dress,” Dalton comments.

This is the first time I’ve ever felt a little bummed about winning. I’d much rather have had this man stay.