Something Different Read Online Free PDF Page A

sexy. A BMW or a Mercedes, maybe...
    Michael kissed the head of James's cock. The kiss was long, wet, vibrating with suppressed desire. Then his tongue began working down in hot, precise circles. Eyes open, unhurried, he licked every millimeter, holding James's cock steady as he stroked the base with his thumb. Then Michael took James entirely in his mouth, squeezing his lips around the root, sliding up and down. It was the best beginner suck-off James had ever had. He found himself grinning, digging his fingers into Michael's hair and pushing his head up and down. Dribbling a little pre-cum as he focused completely on the sensation, James felt his asshole clench and thought maybe, maybe...
    But then he heard Michael's belt unfasten. Heard his trousers unzip. Those two unmistakable sounds threw everything around James into sharp relief. He was in a strange room with a man he didn't know getting fucked because it was all he was good for. The possibility of orgasm popped like a soap bubble.
    Michael, at least, was getting there, giving himself a proper wank with James's cock still in his mouth, softening as it moved in and out between his lips. At the last moment Michael released James's cock, made a choked noise and shot a white jet against James's inner thigh.
    "You... you didn't... like it," Michael gasped, still shaking with his own climax, barely able to speak. His eyes were open and focused on James's cock, red and limp and gleaming with spit.
    James didn't know what to say. Kevin and Cunt-Boyfriend were back together. He owed his landlady two months' rent. His telly was on the fritz and it seemed like no matter how many men he fucked, there was never enough money to get ahead and put a little by. James wouldn't be pretty enough to do this forever. Where would he be in ten years? In twenty? For a second he felt like he would cry.
    "Earlier. You put your fingers over my lips. Why?"
    "Because you were lying." Michael tucked himself back into his shorts, zipping up his trousers and fastening his belt. "I don't need that."
    "Most people love it."
    "I don't. It's distracting." Michael nodded toward James's limp cock. "Why didn't you enjoy the fellatio? What did I do wrong?" He didn't sound angry.
    James felt close to tears again. If he said the wrong thing, his bi-curious suburban family man would bugger off and find a nice cheery rent boy without any issues. And James was sure to say the wrong thing, because everything he touched turned to shit these days.
    "You didn't do anything wrong. It felt good. Maybe go a little faster next time, but otherwise—good. I just..." James drew a deep breath. "It's hard for me to come with men I don't know. I have to get used to a client first."
    "So last time. I thought you climaxed. You pretended?"
    James sighed again. "Men pay me to make them feel good. And not just physically. If they realize I don't like it as much as they do, I'll get knocked about. Put in hospital or worse."
    "But it makes no sense." Michael seemed to be speaking to himself as much as James. Rising from the floor, he shifted to the bed. "I mean, I can pay you to take your clothes off. To touch me. To let me touch you. But I can't expect you to have an orgasm on command, no matter how much money I give you. And the fact that you won't, even though it would be easier, even though it would be safer..."
    Michael lifted his head. He looked James in the eye, as if forcing himself to admit something ugly, something difficult. "I think it means you won't sell out. Not all the way. There's a part of you no one can buy. Not with money. Not even with violence."
    James had no idea what Michael was talking about. Sitting down beside him, he placed a hand on the other man's arm. They made an odd pair in the room's framed mirror, Michael fully dressed and James completely nude.
    "Believe me, I sold out all the way a long time ago," James said. "But the fact that you get why I can't just..." he snapped his fingers, jealous of the