Page 11 of Fitch

I kept an eye out for Benji’s two henchmen but didn’t see them. Certainly wasn’t stopped and shown a picture of him, asking if I knew him. Didn’t mean they weren’t around though.

I took two quick jobs. One BJ that was over in two minutes, barely worth getting on my knees for, and one hand job in a back alley. He was an older dude, seemed nervous and ashamed, and while I tried to work his ego as well, I honestly just found that shit depressing.

It made me think about shit I didn’t want to think about.

Like, would I still be doing this when I was his age? Would I be in my sixties, still living in a shitty apartment earning thirty bucks for a handy?

I’d like to think no, but whatwouldI be doing at sixty?

Would I even make it to sixty? What about Benji and Ky?

What would it take to get us out of this cycle we were in? What would be the turning point where things changed for us?

It put me in a funky mood afterward and I knew it’d be an early night for me.

Ky appeared around ten and asked for my bottle of water. “Fucking latex,” he said. “Tastes so bad.”

I cracked up laughing. “They need to make condoms that taste like dick. Dick flavoured frangers.”

“Agreed,” he said, after taking a decent gulp. “Who wants that fake strawberry shit. Jesus.”

I snorted. “The taste of safe oral, huh?”

He grunted. “This is why I like my two daddies. No need for any of that.”

I was bluntly reminded of my encounter with Dom last night. Raw sex, when it was safe, was unbeatable. And Dom unloading in me twice last night? I could almost feel the pulse of him by memory alone.

It was so fucking hot.

Ky, oblivious to where my mind had gone, handed me back my water bottle. I put my hand up. “Keep it. I’m done tonight. Gonna turn in early.”

He looked up and down the street and sighed. “There’s a weird vibe for a Saturday night, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m not feeling it tonight. Earned a quick sixty already so I’m good. How about you?”

He made a dissatisfied sound. “Ugh. Might stick around for a bit.”

“Okay. Be safe. Call me if you need anything.”

“Course.”

I left him there, grabbed some dumplings from Bento’s, and was home before ten thirty.

On a Saturday night.

Blah.

I put it down to the lack of sleep and being so thoroughly railed and sated the night before, I had no interest in seeking anything sexual tonight.

It had nothing to do with the fact I couldn’t get Dom out of my head. His hot body, his chest hair, his strong arms, that almost-smirk before he caught himself.

And it had absolutely nothing to do with knowing how much I turned him on. How he handled me, how he held me.

How he praised me and worshipped me.

I needed to get him out of my mind. Tuck those details away for private moments, like lying in bed in our quiet and empty apartment, staring at the ceiling.

I considered jerking off, maybe using all those good memories for some wank fodder but as I gripped my dick and began to stroke, it was very apparent there was zero interest.

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