He could afford to work cheap, maybe even on shares, for someone he thought had talent but needed a little honing.Or, maybe he could write. After all,...he'd have the time to concentrate on it, with no financial worries -- he could use his better times of the day, and not be forced to write late at night or on the weekends while working full time, like so many aspiring authors had to do. He could use his experience to do things right, and go beyond the normal, the expected, the formula, and maybe. There was really no doubt where this was going anymore. He didn't know what I was going to do to him, I could have done anything, but he surly knew now that we were going to have sex. Or, I was going to have sex with him. I rolled him over on his back and worked on his shoulders and chest from the front. I turned so my back was against the headboard and dug into chest with my thumbs. I stood up on the bed standing over him and took off my pants kicking them to the floor. He was transfixed on. More

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