Rowan’s doctor had upended the way that my sister was being cared for. After a plethora of tests, he suggested some standard and experimental treatments.
He hadn’t charged me a cent for his services but made it clear that I’d be covering the expenses of further treatment.
I asked him for his personal recommendation, which, interestingly, wasn’t the most expensive option.
I moved my sister to his private clinic, where I got a special price. I’d need to take more clients to pay for the bills, so I went from two to four per week.
Those that used G4G’s “outdoor catering” service had access to a website and an app that easily rivaled those of top-tier luxury brands. They could use it to make appointments and special requests.
The agency never made our pictures available to customers beforehand. This was primarily done to protect our identities from people who had no intention of being customers.
It also gave the agency the flexibility to choose from a few escorts who met a client’s general specifications. They could select ethnicity, eye and hair color, and body type, but not cock size.
It was also possible to select an area of interest.
There were quite a few escorts that had educations from reputable schools. Most opted to be only companions without sex. They made less money but worked the same hours.
A few of us found it thrilling to be intellectually challenged by the rich and then fucked. I made a very tidy profit after G4G took 30 percent of my earnings.
Despite my abysmal origin story, I was blessed with a keen intellect and got myself a scholarship at Hargrave.
I studied Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations but couldn’t finish my doctorate because of my sister’s accident.
One of my professors was a total DILF. I would eye fuck him from my front-row seat in the lecture hall, but he never seemed to notice.
You must be wondering, “So why is this all relevant?”
The thing is that, when I knocked on the hotel room door, I never in my wildest dreams expected Professor Dahan to open it.
We were both equally shocked.
He just stood there, gaping at me like a fish out of water. Eventually, he invited me in. I presumed it was to avoid attention from the passerby in the hallway.
“Maximilian? What are you doing here? I am expecting…company!” he said, looking very uncomfortable.
Did he really not realize what was going on?
“I’m your company, professor,” I said slowly.
“What?!” he yelled in incredulity.
“I work for Gentlemen for Gentlemen. I’m using the money to pay for my sister’s medical bills.”
“But you should be finishing your degree!” he said in outrage.
“Society doesn’t allow me that luxury, sir.”
I broke a cardinal rule and approached him. I put a hand on his chest and whispered, “Why am I here? What do you desire?”
He pulled away and grabbed his phone. “I will contact the agency and ask them for a replacement. They would still pay you something, no?”
“Why bother? You now know that I am an escort, and I know that you pay for sex with men. We might as well give you what I came for.”
He looked at me in silence, his eyes trying to read my face.
“Shall I tell you a secret?” I said, carefully sitting down in an armchair. “I’ve fantasized about you and me…”
To my surprise, this made him smile.
“I knew it!” he muttered to himself.
“So, I repeat my question. What do you desire?”
He sat down in the chair beside me and went into lecture mode. It was the most bizarre thing ever—and wildly arousing.
“I have a ritual,” he said calmly. “Whenever I have my...tendencies, I give them a structured outlet.”
“Interesting.”
“I will ask you to lie naked on the bed, and I will use this to write what I want to do to you across your back in Hebrew.”
My eyes lit up at this kinky revelation. He’d picked up his pen, the one he twirled between his fingers during lectures.
My throat restricted, and I asked in barely a whisper, “Is that all?”
“No! I will commit the acts that I’ve written, and then wash them off your body after I am done. You bear my sins, and in exchange, you will be given monetary recompense.”
“Wow, what a sophisticated way to fuck it out of your system,” I said cheekily. I was utterly enthralled by this situation.
“Don’t be vulgar, Maximilian!” he berated me as if this was still his lecture hall.
I stood up and got undressed slowly. He remained seated with his fingers steepled.
I always loved looking at his hands. The fingers were all covered in dark hair, and the nails were perfectly manicured. I would often lose focus as I watched the way his veins moved as he drew on the board.
“Now lie on the bed,” he said strictly. What a fucking turn-on!
“Can I ask for one thing?” I asked, looking at him seductively over my shoulder.
He nodded slowly.
“Can you write on my chest? I would like to see you work.”
He hesitated for a moment—I was probably fucking up his ritual. He nodded once again.
I felt myself slowly getting hard as he approached. He pulled over a chair and put it next to the bed.
“I will take your cock in my hand and jerk it,” he said. Then repeated it in Hebrew and wrote it on my chest.
“I will remove my pants, underwear, and socks. Then I will put my hard cock into your wet mouth.” Again, he repeated the phrase in Hebrew, then wrote it.
The way he said it made the process sound clinical, but I was so turned on that my dick was throbbing.
“I will remove my cock before orgasm and allow my excitement to subside.”
The pen moved across my chest—the sight and feeling were electrifying.
“You will use your tongue on my anus until I ask you to stop.”
The writing was so beautiful that I was considering asking him to write something on the inside of my arm that I could have tattooed.
“I will press my cock into your anus and thrust until I ejaculate.”
That was the last line of text, and I’d never been more ready. This experience had been intensely erotic, and we hadn’t even done anything yet.
This job gave me such an incredible insight into the human mind. They should make prostitution compulsory for psychology students!
I laughed to myself over that thought and made him smudge a letter. He wasn’t happy and said, “I will have to deny you orgasm for that!”
Holy shit! Was he serious?!
He meticulously went through each of his steps. I broke another rule and let him fuck me bareback. Despite the professor’s threat to deny me orgasm, all that foreplay helped me cum without touching my dick.
He pummeled my ass without mercy and enjoyed watching my warm seed flow over my abdomen. His soon joined it, smudging most of the writing.
As promised, he put me in the bathtub and washed his sin off me. Then he hugged me goodbye after handing me my fee in cash plus a 15 percent tip.
He even wrote me a phrase in Hebrew letters for my potential tattoo in his beautiful handwriting.
Yi’heye be’seder. It will be okay.
Would it though?
