Gay For Pay

CARLOS

Carlos Rivera set up the camcorder in front of his bed, took a deep and final breath and then turned it on. Slowly, he walked in front of it, took off his clothes and dropped to his knees. His chest heaved with nervous breaths and twice, he decided to throw the whole thing to hell and turn the fucking camera off.

But what the fuck was he nervous about? His job literally was to be naked in front of people, and last he checked, he was not insecure about his body. Lately, though, his work had not been providing nearly enough for him to survive.

He needed money, and his parents had a lot of it. But he would have rather first died before he asked for their help. He did not want to think about that--them now.

Lying on his back, he pressed his thighs to his chest, and ran a finger along his ass crack. His whole body shook with remorse, but that wasn't going to pay the bills.

Nothing too graphic, just show off a bit of your body. He reminded himself, standing up, rolling his hips and getting on the bed.

His cock was fully hard now and he pumped it a few times, precome oozing onto his pelvis. He flexed and kissed his biceps, stroked his thighs and fingered his abs, because he did not know what the fuck else to do.

He wanted to say something before he turned it off, but he decided against it. He licked his lips, ran a hand through his hair and then turned off the camcorder. His phone rang as he put his clothes back on.

"Yes?" He said cooly, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Sure, I know where that is. I'll be there in about, a half hour?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice--he did not want to seem desperate. Sitting down, he turned on his computer, edited the video and copied it to a CD.

When he had tucked the CD safely between his shirt and jacket, he pulled his cap low over his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets and jogged out of his apartment building, into the cool October evening.

*

He got to the restaurant before whoever he was supposed to meet, chose a table by the window and passed the time playing a video game on his phone.

He was so preoccupied he didn't realize that the man had arrived, until he cleared his throat.

"You have what I asked for?" He asked, and Carlos nodded. He unzipped his jacket and slid the CD across the table to his host.

"I'll tell you when and where you can get your money." He said flatly, stood up and straightened his suit jacket.

"Look, sir, I can't wait. You said I give you the video, I get my money." He could hear the panic in his voice and he looked wildly around the restaurant to see if he was drawing any attention to them.

"I'll tell you when and where you can collect your money." The man said in the same uninterested tone, slid the CD into his jacket pocket and walked away.

Tears blurred Carlos' vision. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he checked it. It was private message on his Onlyfans from a new client; some guy called Mark. He wasn't in the mood, but Mark was paying very handsomely.

He texted back his address and conditions, paid for his coffee and left.

The doorbell rang just as he got out of the shower, and he answered it in his bathrobe. It was a young man, about his age, dressed in all black and wearing goth makeup. Carlos smiled, teasing at the ties of his robe and cleared his throat.

"Mark, correct?" He asked, and the man nodded.

"Come on in." He said, holding his hand and gently pulling him in. He just wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

"Can I offer you something? Water, so--"

"Where's the bedroom? And why are we still talking? You read my message, didn't you?"

Carlos motioned with his head, undoing the knot and letting the robe slide off his shoulders. He closed the distance between them, his palms cupping Mark's ass.

"I want to be inside your gorgeous ass so bad, Mark." he whispered with a smirk, softly biting on the tattoos on the young man's neck.

Slowly, he pulled Mark's shirt over his head, sliding his palms over Mark's skin. Mark leaned into him, stepping out of his jeans, his erection on Carlos' stomach.

"Oh please just strike me. Spank me, hit me all over and fuck my brains out with no restraint!" Mark said tightly, digging his short nails into Carlos' back.

He got on his hands and knees on the couch, but Carlos grabbed his hand and took him to the bedroom. He threw him onto the bed, sheathed his cock and without waiting, slid into Mark's hole.

"Fuuuck! You're so big in my ass!" Mark shuddered, closing his eyes. "Fucking hit me, you fucking moron!"

Suddenly, Carlos was furious. He was sick and tired of everyone pushing him around like he was...nothing. Without thinking, he slapped Mark, and a portion of the anger left him. He slapped him again, his thrusts becoming quicker and shorter.

"Yeah? You like when I slap you like that you cunt?" He snarled, strangling Mark.

Mark moaned and screamed louder as he was slapped a third and fourth time, his balls tightening. But Carlos' hand was too tight around his neck, and he could not breathe. He dug his nails into Carlos' arm, but that just earned him another slap.

Suddenly, he wasn't enjoying this anymore, but Carlos had lost control.

"Stop! Fucking stop you sadist!" Mark choked, kicking his legs wildly in the air. But Carlos just laughed, his own orgasm building up, adrenaline coursing through his blood.

"Uuuhhh! I'm coming, I'm going to fucking come! Aaaah!" He screamed as he filled the condom, collapsing on Mark's hot, sweaty and still body.

His sense came back as quickly as it had left him, and he started to panic.

"Oh god, no, no, no, no!" He panted, burying his face in his hands. Mark could not be fucking dead.

He could not call an ambulance; even if he wasn't dead, they would ask about why he had strangled Mark, and then he would be arrested. He searched YouTube, gave him CPR, put him in a bathtub filled with ice cold water, but nothing worked.

He started to sob with desperation, but thankfully Mark's chest started to rise and fall. Mark sputtered, coughed and opened his eyes, sitting up hurriedly in fear.

Looking up at his ceiling, he chuckled, made the sign of the cross and whispered,

"Thank you, God."

Carlos groaned tiredly, feeling for his phone on the nightstand. His leg hit something in his bed and his eyes flew open. He sat up and saw the guy from last night; he did not care enough to remember their names, snoring softly on the other side of his bed.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and closed his eyes.

He had managed to convince him that it was his fault, asking Carlos to strangle him tighter until he had passed out, and Mark, yes, that was his name, had believed him, maybe more out of fear than logic.

His phone started ringing again and Mark stirred, but kept sleeping. He was tired--they had had sex again after he regained consciousness, this time with Carlos perfectly in control.

"Hello?" Carlos drawled sleepily, lying back down on the pillows. He recognized the voice on the other side right away, it was the man from yesterday.

"I'm sending an address to your phone. Be there at eleven, I need to talk to you." The man said, and hung up without letting Carlos say anything.

Carlos sighed and shook Mark awake.

"Get dressed, leave the money on the coffee table and close the door on your way out." He told him, climbing naked out of bed and going to the bathroom.

Mark sat up, his face twisted with shock.

"Seriously? We had a really great time last night and well I thought--"

"Yeah, well you thought wrong. I was merely working. It's not my fault you read into it wrong. I have to be somewhere so please, leave."

With that, he closed the bathroom door behind him. He turned on the shower and jerked off, because he was nervous as shit about his meeting, and his load was impressive even after fucking all night. He showered, brushed his teeth and shaved his stubble.

Mark was gone when he finished, and all the money, and a tip was piled neatly in the centre of his bed. He struggled to find what to wear; the address on his phone was at 65 Greene Street in Soho, and he knew he would stick out sorely if he went in jeans and a t-shirt.

He settled for black jeans, a white dress shirt and the Oxfords he was supposed to have used for his graduation. He thought he looked neater than he usually did, although he barely recognized himself.

After a hurried breakfast of coffee and toast, he locked his door, jogged down the stairs and ordered an Uber.

He got to the place a little over eleven, but his unnamed--he did not even know what the hell this guy was to him, was still very unamused.

"Look, I just want my money and then I'll leave you alone." Carlos begged, as the man motioned for him to sit.

"Ah, about that." He said with a sort of half grin, half snarl, hitting the keyboard and typing something into his computer.

"Your video--it was not the... best. Hell, it wasn't even good. It needs a lot of work; you need a lot of work."

Carlos felt dizzy.

"Are you going to give me the money or not?" He asked shakily, digging his nails into his palms.

"I'm afraid not. My hands are tied, everyone agrees you did not even try with this. Although, you do have alot of potential." He said boredly, like his voice was coming from someone else.

"I'll make another one--a better one, just please..." Carlos whispered, standing up, and knocking the chair over. The man just smiled politely at his hysterics.

"Carlos; I presume that is your name...how about I make you an offer?"

Carlos just nodded, afraid his voice would betray the calm facade he was now putting on.

"Come work for me. It pays a whole lot better and if I'm being honest, it's very easy money."

"Dude, hold on. Work for you doing what exactly?" Carlos asked, licking his lips and cocking an eyebrow.

The man's eyes glinted as he stood up, showing Carlos to the door. They walked across a beautifully decorated hallway and stopped in front of the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, Carlos gasped.

Two men were making love on a bed, while another sat behind a camera, stroking his cock through his pants. Carlos looked over at the boss, his mouth open. The man just raised an eyebrow at him, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm not gay, sir." Carlos said when they were back in the office.

"Ever heard the phrase 'gay for pay', Carlos?"

Carlos nodded absently and swallowed thickly.

"I still can't do it, sir. I'm sorry, I can't." He said, lying back into his chair.

"You need the money, Carlos. And come on, I know what line of work you're in. You have the body, and the experience. I told you, it's easy money."

This guy was right. Carlos needed the money. And he had sex with men alot. But doing it in his house, was one thing...making porn was another.

"You don't have to...have sex. You can just model. It's almost just as lucrative. Think about it, and then give me a call."

Carlos nodded, and stood up. He told himself he wasn't going to say yes, but he was thinking about it. He walked mindlessly through the door and almost got run over in the street.

He needed a drink, and a nap. He took a taxi home, and gave the driver the wrong address twice.

He fumbled with his door and when he finally opened it found the rent notice on the floor.

His hands shook as he read it...he had three days to clear his rent, or he was going to be thrown out. He thought about the money from this morning; but that was not even half the amount he owed.

Maybe if he paid it, they would give him more time to find the rest.

But he knew he was kidding himself. Even he was tired of asking for more time to clear everything.

Sighing, he pulled out his phone and checked his call logs, his thumb hovering over the one from this morning. His breaths shallowed as it rang, and he shuddered when he picked up.

"It's me. I'll do it."

LOGAN

Logan sat up, the residual screams from his nightmare still ringing in his ears. He was sweating and his heart was racing, his whole body shaking with fear.

He tried to go back to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, angry shadows danced behind them. The nightmares were back, even after all the time and money he had wasted on therapy.

He got out of bed, got dressed and left his house. New York was still wide awake at two a.m., and there was a bar in walking distance from his condo. And, he decided, he needed a fuck after all.

The bar was overcrowded, and the music was loud and odd, and sounded like 80's rock. He pushed through the crowd on the dance floor and sat on a high stool at the bar.

"Bourbon. Stiff." He told the bartender without looking at him, his eyes scanning the bar for someone to take back home to bed.

"Miley Cyrus. The music. It's good when it's not turning you deaf." The bartender said with a smile, sliding his drink across the counter top, and Logan realized his annoyance must have been showing on his face.

He knew he was flirting, and Logan found himself strangely attracted. Hazel eyes, curly blonde hair, full pink lips; he wanted to know what they tasted like, and a body he could not wait to have his long, masculine fingers all over. He found himself talking before he could think.

"Are you working all night?" He asked, as the bartender took another order, close enough to hear him.

"I'm off in ten."

His groin stirred in anticipation. It was always that easy for Logan. He didn't need luck or irritating small talk; money and his good looks made up for that.

He had never met anyone who had been able to resist him, and that's why he was so successful. Sure he was honest and good at what he did, but if his business talk failed with the men, he took their wives to bed and they managed to talk their husbands into working with him.

And Carlos had almost been too easy. He was young, naive and desperate. A deadly combination. And he was also very, very hot. But nothing got him more interested in Carlos than his last name.

Rivera.

He tightened his grip on the glass in his hand and smiled. It was almost too perfect. He had tried, for many years to take everything away from the Riveras, to make them suffer like he had. But he had failed. Miserably. And then, Carlos had showed up, and made things too easy.

"You ready? I'm off work." The bartender said, interrupting his thoughts. He nodded, paid for his drink and they left.

*

Logan threw open the door, already pulling his clothes off. He wrapped his arms around Aaron, the bartender's waist and lifted him without breaking their kiss.

He kicked the door shut and pinned Aaron on it. His erection throbbed in the denim and he let it out with his free hand.

"Damn Aaron, I can't wait to have you in my bed." He panted into Aaron's mouth, running his hand through his blonde curls.

They tore each other's clothes off as they stepped through the bedroom, Aaron lying on his back in the messy bed and opening his legs.

Logan retrieved a bottle of lube from the nightstand and a condom from his wallet, knelt between Aaron's legs and slid the condom over his cock. He generously lubed himself up, and then did the same with Aaron's hole.

He slid a fraction into Aaron, moaning as the man's ass expertly clenched around his cock. He gripped Aaron's thigh with one hand, his other hand flattened on the bed, supporting his weight and started to thrust, assaulting Aaron's sweet spot and earning thankful moans from the man under him.

He put his hands on either side of Aaron's head and started to fuck him erratically, panting and moaning...and coming.

Aaron pumped his own cock hard--Logan's expert fucking and response to his ass was more than enough to drive him over the edge. He arched into Logan with a scream, blasting come all over the sheets.

Logan kissed him all over and thrust a few more times. He slid out, ripped the full condom from his cock and threw it on the floor. He climbed into bed and wrapped Aaron in his arms.

"I'm not very learned, so I can't talk to you about politics and shit like that." Aaron said as they caught their breaths, raising his face into Logan's neck and kissing his jawline.

"So then, let's just enjoy each other." Logan replied, running a finger along his bicep.

"What's your story, Logan?" Aaron pressed, pulling away from Logan and sitting up.

Logan gave a defeated sigh and looked at him.

"My story is that I have an early day at work tomorrow and unlike you, I can't sleep in. I have to be at the office at seven, and it's five thirty already. Now since you can't go to sleep, leave."

Aaron laughed bitterly, but got out of the bed and got dressed.

"Don't you want my number in case you want to--"

"I don't need you, Aaron. I've had your piece of ass already. I'm pretty sure I'll not be able to recognise you, or even stand your face tomorrow." Logan said coldly, a blank expression on his face.

That was the thing with lust; they bored you as quickly as they had turned you on.

Logan showed him out, and locked the door after him. He made himself a cup of tea and pushed open the French doors in the living room, going out to the balcony.

He was stark naked and the breeze was starting to get his cock hard again, and he did not care that the paparazzi could be down right now. He was anything but shy.

He smiled spitefully as he thought how his father would have scolded him for all the reckless decisions he was making, like buying an apartment complex just because.

Money was not an issue; he had more than he knew what to do with.

But he had not done it just because. The eviction notice had been delivered to Carlos' apartment even before he got home, and in his desperation he had said yes.

Logan smiled sadistically as he remembered Carlos' trembling voice over the phone, taking him up on his offer.

He did not care that Carlos had had nothing to do with what happened. Neither had he, but he too had suffered. He knew no amount of revenge would right the wrong, but the least he could do was avenge himself and his family.

God, was he excited for tomorrow!

He went back inside when it got too cold, dumped the cold tea in the sink and went back to bed.

He needed to be on his best guard tomorrow, he reminded himself, and fell asleep almost instantly.