My First Time In LA

It was the first time for everything. Today I received my first client as Hollywood’s newest gigalo. It went well to the end–

Laying down at my spot by the library, it wasn’t even my intention. And yet there he was, asking to suck my dick for 200 bucks. He gave me 20.

His name was Neil, and Ecuardiarian. He had very nice lips. I told him he gave it like a woman, and he said I was beautiful. I rubbed his hair.

He teeth scraped a bit, but I didn’t mind. I had Kristen Bell on my mind and her facial expressions. Maybe Chanel too.

Voices came as he went down, pulling my pants further as I tried not to thrust in his mouth. I was soft. He didn’t mind.

I stroked a bit as he pulled himself out, an uncut penis. He never got hard.

As I became erect he unbuttoned my shirt, and I rubbed his hair further.

He said he was a stylist, I consented.

My dick stiffened, and there was precum. He forget to rub it around my head, but kept sucking.

I told him I didn’t need help, I was a natural. He insisted I need help. I said it was okay. He asked again.

Unsure, I wasn’t sure what to say. A voice asked if I should leave, I lied. I said I felt comfortable. He sucked further.

As he went down he rubbed my nipples. I unbuttoned the shirt further and slipped off my jacket. He rubbed my chest.

He said he was a hair stylist, and that he wanted to cut my hair. I thought I heard him say he wanted to give me a buzz cut. I got upset. He was only joking, or so I thought.

Maybe it was him who was being directed by bad dialog?

We went further, him sucking and me trying to land a kiss. My lips brushed his for a second, and then he pulled away. I think he wanted to rape me.

Unsure, he sucked further. I took a sip of beer that he offered me. Pilsner. I like my smoother.

As he went back to my nipples, sucking my left one, I took another sip. How far would he take this. And how far would I let it go?

I went soft. He asked if I was okay.

I lied.

He said he had to go peepee, I sat with my cock exposed, unsure where to end it. He came back and sucked it more. I said I was okay. I wasn’t sure what the lie was anymore.

His hair was nice. His lips soft and masculine. I dreamt of a woman, but was complimented by how well he took me in.

He said he loved me.

Maybe it was him who lied…

My first comedy show in LA.

A library for the homeless and some very tan and model-like teenagers. I was sure if they were funny. They were definitely hot tho.

A new form of comedy? Sexy poses. My mind wandered. I prefer it to do that.

A man fought with his inner voice, and stumbled over his words. The holy spirit?

LA is weerd like that. Are they real here, or do they all have technology directing their thoughts? Some are robots, of that I’m sure.

Sexy poses. Sexy hair. A jew and an old-man.

They laughed, I stared. A sexy pose, and I smirked.

Perhaps the joke was on me…

About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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