Page 38 of The Influencer

“Thirteen.” He holds it up for me to see the underside—his testicles as well.

I nod, eyes glued to the glistening silver piercings. All thirteen of them. There’s a Prince Albert, no biggie, plenty of guys have those, but all the rest—those are new for me. A vertical line of six studs graces the top of his shaft with a matching set on the underside. Not a ladder, more like a line of pearls. And then there’s what he’s done to his sac. A barbell piercing—I think it’s called a lorum—sits at the base of his shaft above a column of small rings that travel all the way down his scrotum to his taint.

“That looks like way more than thirteen.”

“If you want a closer look, I can walk you through the count.”

“That’s okay—I mean—you don’t have to walk me through anything. I’ll take your word for it.”

It’s borderline monstrous is what it is. Sci-fi porn level outrageous. Overkill would be an understatement.

“What were you thinking?” I whisper.

“I haven’t had sex in eighteen months, Jade. I think it’s safe to say I haven’t been thinking clearly for a while now.”

“Does she even know about this?” I ask.

Asher shrugs.

“Yes?” I prompt.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says.

Wow. That’s like—really depressing. To make him forget about her, I try for cute. “So, this’ll be the maiden voyage?”

“That depends on you.”

All things considered, the vertical studs are less threatening than a Jacob’s ladder. The way he’s placed them adds girth, certainly, on what’s already an impressive member, but as faintly grotesque as its appearance is, I think it would feel sort of mind-blowing. “I’ll try anything once,” I quip.

The weight of the world seems to fall from his shoulders, and he lets go of his cock and shoves his jeans and boxer briefs past his hips.

More tattoos, more hair, more muscle—how is this man real? And how the fuck is that stupid bitch he calls a girlfriend able to keep her hands off him constantly? I want to bury my face between his thighs and never come up for air.

He nods to the bed. “On your back. Feet flat, spread your legs.”

I give him a glare for the detailed instructions. I was planning something like that, but now he’s ruined the surprise. My problem with authority is now in direct conflict with the fact that he’s paying me for this. The customer is always right, right?

He opens a condom as he watches me lie back. I let my skirt fall naturally up my thighs as I bend my knees. Reaching up and stretching out my arms above my head, I put myself on display for him. My own cock is jutting up, looking obscene against the black satin fabric of the skirt. A drop of precum slides down the vein on my underside.

Asher stands at the foot of the bed, fitting the condom over his pierced cock, and stares down at me, taking all of me in at once.

11

asher

I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone the way I want to fuck Jade Sloane.

He’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen, and it’s a damn shame I’m not taking a picture of him right now because it would sell like Super Bowl tickets.

To his point, I think I was pretty bad in bed when Olivia and I first got together. I’d had very little experience, and she was a virgin, too. Neither of us knew any better. But I can’t count how many hours of porn I’ve watched since then, both straight and gay, and I think I get the mechanics of fucking a little better now. Besides, I don’t think Jade will be shy about telling me whether he likes something or not. And I’ll know if he comes, too.

I’ve never been anything less than ashamed of jerking off in the locker room shower, but tonight I’m grateful I caved. It means I’ve got a shot at lasting more than a minute once I’m finally inside him.

But first, I need to get a taste of that sweet, sweet body. Lowering myself between his legs, I lick a trail up his groin and to his dark pink sac. He gives his hips a sexy roll and lets out a long groan. I suck a nut into my mouth and roll it over my tongue a few times before sucking in the other one and tasting the vaguely candy-sweet flavor of him. Like he dipped himself in sugar before I got here.

It’s a pleasant surprise, like pretty much everything else about him is. And by pleasant, I mean pleasurable. Highly. All that vanity packed in such a pretty package results in painstaking self-care. I’ll be kinda shocked if his cum doesn’t taste like melted ice cream.

He gives me my money’s worth while I explore his privates, using his dancer’s body to move sinuously beneath me and still look fuckhot doing it. I use my lips to taste his precum before letting the broad flat of my tongue drag up the underside of his shaft. The taste of it reminds me of the ocean. Fresh and salt-kissed. No bitterness at all. I guess he saves all that for his smart mouth. It’s an immediate and all-consuming addiction.

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