Contract

Erotic short. A trans man lets a gangster fuck him raw in exchange for services to be rendered.

Erotic short, rated E, cis M/trans M. 5.8k. Danny, a waiter, is offered a deal by a local gangster, Arne Seven: for letting Seven fuck him bareback, Seven will pay for his bottom surgery. A continuation of Financial Security.

Featuring the obvious sex trade, age difference, size difference, massive cock, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys, fingering, cigar kink, overstimulation, power dynamics and a bit of fear, some dirty talk.

Note warnings for some discriminatory language around HIV, with a discussion about that, plus the inherent consent issues. I might be writing some more extended stuff with these two, because they’re just… tasty.

---

Seven watched as Danny handed off the keys to the bar manager, and he followed Danny down the backway. It was no surprise, really — he’d come in via the back anyway, and when Danny dipped into the changing room to swap his shirts in his locker, the old man stood in the doorway and watched him, his shoulders against the door to keep it from falling closed.

He was such a big man that he fucking filled the doorway, and the thought made his soaking cunt clench around nothing. He felt so fucking open, so fucking open and wet, and there was a kind of shakiness in his breaths as he breathed in, breathed out.

“You clean?” Danny asked as he pushed the locker shut and turned his key in the clock.

“You know,” said Seven idly, taking a long puff on his cigar and then blowing out a ring of smoke, his lips forming a circle that made Danny’s cock ache, “a word like that is just, ha. Loaded with stigma. Clean. People ain’t dirty for being sick.”

“Is this your way of telling me you have AIDs?” asked Danny sharply, and Seven looked at him unflinchingly, his lips shifted into the slightest of cool smiles. He didn’t say anything, and Danny suddenly faltered, his stomach doing a flip. Seven was a fucking gangster, but he was also a sixty-something year old gay dude, and the guilt hit him so hard he couldn’t keep it off his face even though he tried, couldn’t keep his expression cold and hard even though he wanted to. “I mean — So… Sorry. Do you — Do you actually have…?”

Seven took another slow drag of his cigar and then blew out more smoke, nodding for Danny to come toward him, and Danny stumbled slightly as he did — he’d put his t-shirt and jumper on, and he’d tossed his nice shirt into his gym bag, had it slung over his shoulder once he’d shrugged his coat on.

“You think that’s a funny joke, huh?” asked Seven in quiet, amused tones as he followed Danny down the corridor, and Danny tried not to feel fucking guilty, because Seven was a fucking — He was a fucking murderer, and a rapist, and a mobster, and whatever the Hell else. “Kids these days, no sense of who fought for their fucking rights.”

“I said sorry,” Danny muttered. “But if you like, actually have HIV, then — ”

“It’s not about whether I have HIV,” said Seven. “We’re talking about your little homophobia problem.”

“… So you don’t have HIV?”

“I’m poz, yeah. I also have an undetectable viral load. You know what that means?”

“… No?”

“Means there’s no risk of transmission.”

Danny didn’t know if that was a joke or not, and he glanced back at Seven as they came out into the alleyway, but Seven just nudged him in the back and they came out to his car. It was a fucking fancy thing, sleek and black and polished to a shine, probably vintage, and fucking huge, was tricked out on the inside like a limo or a black cab, with seats looking forward and back.

They didn’t put their seatbelts on when they got in, but Danny wasn’t exactly fucking surprised — Seven knocked with big knuckles on the screen between the main part of the car and the driver’s, and they were driving.

Smooth.

“Are you serious?” asked Danny, looking up at the old man. “About the — Do you actually have — ”

“Jeeze, kid,” said Seven, and he laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket — it was one of those huge things, looked more like a tablet than a phone, except that Seven’s hands were so fucking big that it almost looked normal for him. He tapped with his thumb on the screen, searching. “Here. Read up on it if you don’t believe me.”

“Tell me first,” said Danny, but he took it anyway, stared down at the screen and read the title on the web page, HAART and unprotected sex.

“I’m a good little patient,” said Seven. “Take my nukes — my meds — at the same time every day. The antiretrovirals fight the HIV. You know what HIV does to a body, right? You know it attacks the immune system?”

Danny nodded, and maybe it was just because he was already turned on, and maybe it was because of the way Seven had put his arm around Danny’s shoulder and his fingers were rubbing a circle on his upper arm, except maybe, just maybe, this was turning him on, this fucking — condescending gay elder routine.

He’d never actually been fucked raw before.

He’d thought about it. He’d thought about it, had craved it, from time to time, but he’d never actually… So he wasn’t on PrEP. He’d read the pamphlets, had thought about it, but the biggest thing was that he wasn’t on birth control and he kept meaning to get an IUD and then he never had the fucking money or the time to make an appointment and —

And.

“Oh, well, at least you know something,” murmured Seven, his smirk halfway between fond and fucking hungry as he held his cigar out of the side of his mouth and nudged the bottom of Danny’s chin with the knuckle on his free hand, and Christ, but that made Danny’s cock stand up higher. “Well, the meds fight the HIV, prevent it from doing that. Part of that means that the HIV is no longer detectable by HIV tests in the bloodstream. U equals U, sweetheart — undetectable equals untransmissible.”

“What about anything else?” asked Danny. “How do I know that you’re cle — That you don’t have anything else?”

“Well, you don’t know,” said Seven. “But given that I know everything about you, and that I knew all that before I invited you up to sit with me, doesn’t that imply to you that I might be, uh, a little particular about my sexual partners, hm?”

There was still a gnawing terror in him, a real and genuine fear, a certainty that after all this was over and done with — Hell, maybe during — that Seven would fucking kill him. Danny stared down at Seven’s phone, scrolled through the lines of text about HAART and how it worked, the same U=U slogan showing on the page.

“Now, little man,” rumbled Seven, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Danny.

“Tell me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t, I won’t do it again.”

“Good boy,” said Seven, put all this fucking bass in the word so that it went right through him, and Danny shuddered and bore down on the leather seats underneath him, wished there was some fucking friction; he let out a noise that was almost a whimper, it was so breathless, so sharp and soft.

And then Seven was pulling him close, one big hand spread on his lower back, and Danny just let himself fucking do it. He dropped Seven’s phone aside on the seat, clambering into his lap and straddling him to kiss him, his hands sliding over the sides of Seven’s neck, over his big fucking chest — he had to spread his legs wide to accommodate him, how huge his thighs were, how big of a man he was.

Seven kissed him deliberately, easily, like he was savouring every movement of Danny’s lips, his tongue; he was holding the cigar off to the side, the other hand coming to grip loosely at his arse, to squeeze one cheek and then the other. Danny reached between them, feeling the softness of Seven’s belly under his sleek silk shirt, and then he slid it lower, touching his cock through his pants, and —

“Christ,” whimpered Danny, and Seven laughed.

“I’m cut just like he was too,” he murmured. “Both of us nice Jewish boys.”

“Aren’t gangsters meant to be Italian?”

“Oh, kiddo, I ain’t a gangster,” said Seven, and Danny went for the buckle on his belt, but Seven grabbed at his wrist and stopped him short, tugging his hand away. “Uh uh. When I fuck you, I’m savouring it. We’re doing this on my silk sheets with a little mood lighting and music, not rushing through things in the backseat of my ride.”

“But — ”

“Uh uh,” said Seven again, sterner this time as he tugged Danny’s hands away from his belt, and the voice he used and the hardness of his eyes made Danny’s hips buck against the air, the movement uncontrollable and automatic. “Be a good boy for Daddy, sweetheart, and he won’t have to spank you.”

“Oh, God,” moaned Danny, and he ground his cock against Seven’s belly — it was clumsy and awkward and fucking desperate, gave him next to no friction through his jeans anyway, and it made Seven laugh.

“What does it for ya, huh? The Daddy, or the spanking?”

“Both, I think,” Danny gasped out. “This whole fucking — this whole fucking thing is stupid hot, crazy hot, and I think it’s because you might kill me.”

“Oh, honey, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Seven, giving him a lopsided smirk. “The only way I’m gonna kill you is if my cock goes in you and comes out the other side.”

“Fuck,” Danny whined, and before he could say anything else, Seven was kissing him again. He didn’t let Danny pull back, and fuck, but he was good, and Danny was grinding down against him and chasing the barest friction he could manage to get on his cock, was so focused on that that he didn’t even notice they were there until the door suddenly opened and Seven was dragging him with him.

He’d thrown off his coat and kicked off his shoes, but it didn’t matter that he was in his socks — his feet didn’t even touch the snowy ground, and he wasn’t out of doors long enough to feel the chill, because Seven just carried him inside, up half a flight of stairs, into a lift with mirrored walls and a set of shining silver buttons with some scary little attendant pressing them and —

Danny whimpered, because Seven had hooked his fingers against his arse under his jeans even as he kept on kissing him back against the wall.

“Taken any thought as to which of these holes I’m fucking?” he asked, and Danny shuddered.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait, so the — the stalking, knowing my address and my fucking social security number, is that so you know I’m — fuck, did you see my last STI test results?”

“Smart little guy,” said Seven, and then Danny was being carried again but he was being kissed at the same time, his legs wrapped around Seven’s massive waist, his hard cock grinding against Danny’s as he was thrown against a wall, was up on a counter, something hitting the floor, and then his shoulders were hitting a door, and then —

“Fuck,” he groaned as he was dropped back onto the biggest bed he’d ever fucking seen.

“Clothes off, kiddo,” said Seven, and Danny was so wet he was pretty sure he could feel the wetness through his fucking jeans as he pulled his shirt and jumper off over his head and tossed them aside, wriggling out of his jeans at the same time. Seven was not moving with the same kind of urgency, was neatly shrugging off his massive pinstriped suit jacket and putting it on a hanger, and his trousers got the same treatment, getting neatly folded and slung over the hanger’s crossbar.

Fuck.

Fuck. Was he seriously, actually doing this? Was he actually gonna let this big fucking mobster fuck him — fuck him bare! — and —

And get paid for it? Get his fucking bottom surgery paid for, get all of it? Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck,” he said out loud.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” said Seven amusedly, pouring something from the bar to the side of the room, ice clinking in the glass. “You’re really starting to get the idea.”

“How do I know you’ll make good on your part of the deal?” asked Danny. “Shouldn’t there be a — a contract?”

Seven started laughing, and with his suit off, Danny could see the movement of his belly and his chest, the tight fabric of his shirt clinging to him, could see the jiggle and movement, and God, but he wanted to touch, wanted to cram close and just feel Seven’s body warm and soft and strong underneath his.

God, Seven had really picked his fucking target, huh?

He was palming at his cock, was resisting the urge to actually shove some fingers inside himself and ride them — anyway, he knew they wouldn’t be as satisfying as Seven’s were, wouldn’t be as thick, wouldn’t be as wide, wouldn’t have rings pressing at him as they worked their way in.

He could see the bulge of Seven’s cock in his boxers, and it was so big that Danny actually felt a little dizzy just thinking about it.

“Any thought as to what hole I’m coming in?” asked Seven, setting his drink down and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“My arse,” said Danny, staring at Seven’s big fingers as they worked down the front of his shirt, the black fabric pulling away either side to reveal Seven’s chest, the pale brown skin there, the white hair all over his breast, dusting his huge pecs.

“Sure about that?”

“I’m not on birth control. You’ve been stalking me — presumably you knew that.”

“Well, if I’m gonna pay for you to get your surgeries, sweetheart, maybe you want to use what nature gave you, first,” said Seven deliberately as he moved forward. “You don’t want me to pump you full, huh?”

Yeah, that made his cunt clench on air, made his cock twitch, and he thought about it for a second, thought about having Seven’s cock sliding into him, thought about his come pumping into him, thought about it dripping out of him. It was a visceral, horrible idea, the idea of pregnancy, and yet for just a second, he thought about it, thought about getting bred, and his skin was on fire.

“My arse,” he said again.

“Gotcha,” said Seven, and gestured with his fingers for Danny to scoot back on the bed. “Gimme that bottle.”

Danny took the bottle of lube and passed it down to the other man as he reclined against all the pillows, which were laid in a row of three instead of two the bed was so big. He didn’t look at the bottle carefully, but it looked sleek, was black stone-feeling ceramic with a shining gold pump action.

As Seven nudged his legs apart, Danny was distracted from the lube he was drizzling over his fingers by the sight of his tits, the slight pink flush to his chest, the way his nipples were a darker brown than the rest of his body, the gold bars through them on each side, matching the chain around his neck.

“You — Ah, ah,” groaned Danny as Seven slid his fingertip between his arsecheeks, smearing lube around the skin — he was already wet there, slick having dripped down from his cunt, and there was very little resistance as Seven slipped his finger forward and sunk inside him.

“Tight,” Seven said thoughtfully. “You sure about this, kiddo?” Danny didn’t even mean to, didn’t even do it consciously, just felt the little jerk of his cock in response to that like it was standing to attention, and Seven laughed his low, rumbling laugh. “You like that, huh?” He wasn’t really thrusting his index finger into Danny’s arse, just sinking it deeper and then slowly retracting it, testing the muscle, the drag of it against the digit as it moved.

“I can, I can take it,” Danny managed to mumble, and Seven hummed and sunk a second finger in. It was a fucking stretch, what with Seven’s fucking fingers, and once again he was aware of the extra drag and nudge of his rings against the edge of Danny’s hole as he sunk his fingers in again, although this time he didn’t pop them past the edge of his sphincter, not like he’d done when fingering his cunt. He was so wet he could feel the drip down over Seven’s fingers, and he pushed his head back into the pillows, trying not to look down at him as he felt the burn in his cheeks. “Did you — Isn’t it…”

He trailed off, distracted by the way Seven slowly pushed his fingers apart, and he wasn’t scissoring them for the sake of the fucking stimulation, wasn’t doing it to prep him — he could see the old man fucking looking. He was spreading his fingers apart so that he could fucking look, and it made Danny feel like he was burning.

“You trying to ask me something, sweetheart?” asked Seven, and God, but he sounded so fucking calm.

“Isn’t it hard being a, haah,” he whimpered, because Seven was sliding a third finger in and this was a bit harder, didn’t sink in quite as easily — he just drew back and nudged forward again, put pressure on and massaged the muscle of his hole until he just opened up. As Seven’s fingers sank in there wasn’t even a burn because he was being so fucking careful, so fucking meticulous, but he could feel the muscle spreading, could feel the intense fullness and the pressure on the underside of his cunt. It just made him feel that much more empty. “A mobster, a mobster, fuck, fuck. And gay, I mean? Like, is that why you — why you fuck…”

“Aw, you wanna bond? Have a real chitchat?”

Three of Seven’s fingers were thicker than a lot of men’s cocks, and Danny couldn’t really concentrate as Seven sunk them further into him and circled them around, massaging him from the inside, twisting them in a way that made stars light behind his fucking eyes.

“What do you want me to tell you, hm? That I was a nice little Jewish homo, that my, uh, hard circumstances drove me to a life of crime? My Polak daddy walked out on the family and into the Charles River, so I turned to whatever would let me earn for my momma and me?”

It was hard to put this together — it all sounded kinda true, but the fact that it was being said in a condescending, dry tone made Danny feel like he was being spun a fucking story, and it was hard to concentrate given that he was thrusting his fingers into him as he spoke.

“Sure, it was hard,” murmured Seven. “Ain’t a lot of guys in this kind of business who want to hear that you fuck boys as much as you fuck girls — a lot of big, powerful men get off on thinking of women as lesser, just ’cause they want to stick their cocks in ’em. A big man like me who fucks men, well, they might just assume I think of them as lesser, ’cause I want to stick my cocks in them. They might just be right, too.”

He swiped up the whole of Danny’s cunt with his tongue, from the base of his open cunt all the way up to his cock, and the sudden lick of hot wetness made him shout, spreading his thighs wider and tilting his hips up and into Seven’s fingers.

“Wait,” Danny choked out when he felt Seven’s pinky nudge against his hole, saw the way he was folding his hand to fit all the fingers in. “Wait, I ca — ah, ah,” he shuddered, pressing his face hard into the pillow and grabbing at it as he felt the finger nudge inside him with the rest, and God, fuck, it was great, the pressure, the fullness, but he wished it was in his cunt instead.

“You gonna let me take it for a test drive after I pay for this thing to be tricked out, huh?” asked Seven, and Danny grunted as he started to rock his fingers a little faster — he was open enough now that Seven could, that he could thrust his fingers faster, and fuck, fuck.

And then Seven’s lips enclosed his cock, and Danny arched right off the bed with a yell.

Seven didn’t stop, didn’t pull back, just kept rocking his fingers into him and twisting them slightly whenever he sank them right in, and now, yeah, now his rings were catching and pulling at his ring; at the same time, he was swiping his big tongue around Danny’s cock, pressing the flat against it, and then pursing his lips around it and sucking, his cheeks hollowing out. The pressure was sublime, was making his thighs quiver as he spread them wider apart, and he was letting out desperate, incoherent noises as he pressed up and into Seven’s mouth.

“Surgery could just give me a little more to suck on,” mused Seven aloud. “Really show you what a man with a few years’ experience can do.”

He went back to sucking, and Danny gasped in a sharp breath, shifting on the bed, but there was no fucking escape, no relief, just Seven’s huge fingers rocking into him and Seven’s mouth sucking on his cock, Seven’s tongue sliding around it, dipping into his cunt to taste where he was wet and open, and all Danny could do was lie there and take it.

He could feel his orgasm building up inside him as Seven started strumming against his cock with his tongue, swiping back and forth and making him thrum with heat and want, the tension coiling up tighter and tighter. He was moaning louder, he knew he was, was scrabbling and grabbing at the sheets, and then Seven sucked hard again and he was howling as he came.

Seven shoved his fingers all the way into his arse as he came, Danny’s cunt clenching and slick, and the old man didn’t let up on his cock, just kept sucking and licking at it, even playfully catching it with his teeth as Danny shuddered.

“Good boy,” Seven said as he pulled back, and Danny was breathless as he stared at him, watched him wipe the wetness from around his mouth, from off his beard, with the back of his hand.

He stared helplessly after him as Seven went to wash his hands, and he breathed in and out, swallowing.

“How many trans men have you fucked?” he asked, swallowing.

“Jeeze, kid, I don’t keep a tally,” said Seven over the running of the sink. “A few. What about you?”

“Like, two.”

“Heh. Well, I’ve fucked more than two.”

He hung his shirt off, and Danny stared at his back, which rippled with muscle, and there was more white hair on it, and a few freckles over his shoulders. “No tattoos?”

“Tattoos? My momma would hit the roof.”

“She’s still alive?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s not like she’d know.”

“No tattoos,” said the old man again as he dipped his thumbs into his waistband and pulled his boxer-briefs down, and Danny stared at his cock. Seven kept his pubes trimmed back so they were really short, and that just made it look even fucking bigger, beer can-thick and about as long as a tall can of lager too, and fuck, fuck. “Don’t you just look like a deer in headlights?”

He had wrapped one hand around himself, was casually stroking himself up and down, and Danny swallowed as he came closer, came up onto the bed and then reclined back against the pillows, drizzling some of the lube from the bottle over it.

He was cut, and he was careful about working the lube up and down himself, meticulous.

“Come on then, kiddo,” he purred. “Time to ride.”

Danny cautiously got closer, and he started to straddle him, but Seven said, “Ah ah. Other way.”

Danny froze. “What, face — away from you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Gonna imagine I’m somebody else?”

“Oh, kitty’s got claws,” murmured Seven, smirking up at him and not looking at all deterred as he slid his spare hand over Danny’s hip. “No need to be jealous, sweetheart. I just want to be able to get at this pussy of yours nice and easy.”

Danny shivered, but he obeyed, turned around and leaned up on his knees, couldn’t help the whimper he let out when he felt Seven’s huge cockhead nudge up against his arse. It was bigger in girth that Seven’s four fingers, even if only by a little bit, and Seven’s hands came to grip at his hips, tugging him back against the head of his cock and then relaxing when he met resistance, then tugging him back again.

It was insane, how fucking strong Seven was, how easily he moved Danny back and forth like he was little more than a toy, nudging his cockhead against his arsehole and then coming back again, pushing up against him a little, relaxing, then a little more, then a little more, and then there it was, the head popped inside him, and Danny was almost fucking screaming.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Seven was almost cooing at him, his grip still tight on Danny’s waist as Danny tried to fidget, tried to shift, tried to move away or move closer or just move, but he had no chance of winning out against Seven. “That’s a good boy, you take it just like you were made for it, huh? Tailor-made for me, just needed a bit of a work up.”

“I can’t,” whimpered Danny, “you said I had to take it to the hilt, and I don’t think I can, I don’t think I, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” and God, fuck, he was babbling, but suddenly he was certain, he knew he couldn’t, that this thing was gonna split him open. “I can’t take it, Mr Seven, I can’t, I can’t — ”

“You know,” said Seven musingly, “I think you can probably call me something a little more intimate now we’re like this, hm? Sir’ll do. That or Daddy.”

“Fuck off,” Danny hissed, and Seven responded by tugging him down, and fuck, but it was fucking excruciating, the base Seven took. He didn’t just try to slide smoothly into him, didn’t just pull Danny onto him, but worked into him, worked Danny up and down so that he really did relax, so that his arse just opened up to take him, and every moment of it was driving him wild, his cunt feeling raw and rubbed from the outside and desperate, his cock aching to be touched. “I can’t!”

“You are,” replied Seven, and then Danny was down all the way, he was down all the way, was sitting in Seven’s lap with all of Seven’s ridiculous, huge cock buried in him, and Seven circled his hips around, moving his cock in Danny and making him yelp. “There. You fit me so good already — can’t wait to tailor you to my preferences just a little more.”

That made Danny’s whole body shudder, made him clench, and Seven hummed in satisfaction.

“That’s not the deal,” Danny gasped out.

“You telling me you don’t want to try this out again, hm?” asked Seven, rocking up and into him, and it made Danny’s eyes cross, made him feel hot and dizzy at the throbbing heat inside him. “You don’t want to try this in here, once you know I can’t get you pregnant?”

Danny moaned when Seven slid one of his thumbs into his cunt, and it wasn’t even that thick, it was just the friction and the pressure, just the feeling of something making him desperately fuck up and into it.

“Although,” he said in tones of casual admission, “I got my snip in ’07.”

Danny blinked a few times, trying to get his head around that as he stared down at where Seven’s huge cock was buried in his arse, Seven’s hand splayed across his thigh with his thumb tugging up and into him, at where he was spread so fucking wide. “You’ve had a fucking vasectomy?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why didn’t you fucking say that?”

“Aw, honey. A bit of buyer’s regret?”

“You could have just — you fucking said you… You could have fucked my cunt!”

“I told you I’d fuck any hole you picked, so long as you took the whole thing.”

“I fucking hate you,” groaned Danny, and Seven’s laugh he could feel, feel the jump and jerk of his cock buried in him. “You fucking tease, just, can I, can I move — ”

“You stay right there, sweetheart,” said Seven, and Danny’s eyes fluttered closed as Seven pulled his hand away but started to thrust up and into him, one hand steadying him with a grip on his hip as his massive cock fucked up and into him. Fuck, but the stretch was good, the pressure, the heat, and he couldn’t help but think about how this would feel in his cunt, if he’d even be able to take it the way he was taking it in his arse. “Here, here…”

There was something nudging against his cunt, and Danny whimpered as it popped into him, popped in and dragged against the wall separating his arse and cunt, filling him up. It wasn’t nearly as wide as Seven’s cock was, but it was decent, it was generous to say the least —

And then he did something, turned something, and the dildo in his pussy was vibrating, the attachment on the front coming to press against his cock, and Danny nearly hit the roof.

“Ah ah, stay right where you are,” growled Seven, and Danny wailed as he came up on his knees but then sank himself back down again, because him lifting himself up didn’t even give him any escape — impaled on Seven’s cock buried in his arse, Seven was chasing after him with the rabbit in his other hand, thrusting the toy inside him with the vibrations on so high that he was on the verge of another orgasm immediately, his body jumping and jerking without his consent.

“I’m gonna,” he whimpered, “I’m gonna, s — sir, I’m gonna — ”

Seven shoved the dildo in as deep as it could go, Danny’s cock pinched in tight between the vibrating rabbit attachment and the dildo buried in his pussy, that pressing hard against Seven’s cock, and Danny jumped and fidgeted and clenched and moved in his place, wasn’t thrusting down so much as he was trying to get away from the sheer intensity of the sensation.

He felt like there were fireworks bursting behind his eyes, felt like his body was being electrified, as this next orgasm rocked through him, and there were tears on his cheeks as he came around gasping, shuddering. His hands were clumsily back on the pillows to try to keep himself upright, his back leaned back against Seven’s chest, and Seven just kept moving the dildo.

He tried to protest, he thought, slurred out something, said he couldn’t take it — all Seven did was coo at him to calm down, and the dildo just kept moving, the vibrations kept going, and he was just twitching, was twitching and jerking, occasionally gasping when it caught at the most sensitive spot on his cock.

He didn’t know how long it went on for.

He felt like he’d fucking ascended somewhere, or descended somewhere, was just all warmth and heat on all sides and the pleasure radiating out from his arse, his cunt, his cock, and Seven just kept using him, was easily thrusting up and into Danny while rubbing himself with the fucking dildo, was using the vibrator for himself.

When Seven finally came, it was with a low, pleasured sigh, and he carefully eased the rabbit out of his cunt, then pulled Danny back against him, kissing the side of his neck.

Danny had felt Seven’s cock pump inside him, and he could feel the hot wetness of it, feel —

Everything.

“Mmm, I could sleep just like this,” said Seven quietly, sliding his hands up and down Danny’s thighs. “You could keep me nice and warm, couldn’t ya?”

“Fuck,” mumbled Danny.

He was supposed to say no. That would be the smart thing to do, the basic thing to do, to just say no, fuck off, he’d done what he came here for, he’d left Seven fuck him, and now he wanted to go, now he wanted Seven to pay for his taxi home and send him home, and it didn’t feel real.

It definitely didn’t feel real that he was tired, that he was sleepy, and he wanted to stay.

“Okay,” said Seven, patting his arse. “Up you get, go take a piss.”

Danny shivered, but he slowly worked himself off of Seven’s cock, felt the fucking drag of the cock out of him, felt himself left wide open once it popped out of him — he wasn’t quite gaping, but he sure was fucking spread wide, had to clench down, knew he was walking funny.

Seven’s bathroom was fucking fancy, and he watched as the old man pulled the showerhead down to wash his cock and balls, clean himself off, clean the rabbit too and set it on a wire shelf to dry.

“You want to shower?”

“No, thanks,” said Danny. There was come leaking out of him, and he knew it, and part of him fucking savoured it, his head fucking spinning. He liked it. He liked it. He was musing on this as he watched Seven floss. “So, um, I’ll — Where are we? Like, what part of town?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, kiddo,” said Seven mildly. “I’ll drop you off tomorrow morning. You want a toothbrush?”

He kept spares in his bathroom cabinet.

It was weird, it was fucking dreamlike, when twenty minutes later they were in Seven’s bed under the blankets, music playing quietly, and Seven had Danny pulled right up against his body, letting Danny almost sleep on his chest.

“You’re not gonna kill me,” Danny mumbled sleepily against Seven’s chest. “Are you actually — Are you actually gonna do it?”

“What, pay for your bottom surgery? Sure,” said Seven. “You and I have a contract, don’t we?”

“You do kill people, though,” said Danny. “Like, you are a — you’re a fucking criminal. You kill people.”

“There’s still technically sodomy laws on the books in the state of Massachusetts, sweetheart. If I’m a criminal, it’s you and me both.”

“You are so full of shit,” said Danny, and Seven’s belly moved underneath him as he laughed, one of his huge hands coming to slide over Danny’s back, rubbing a circle over his shoulders.

“You sure are cute,” murmured Seven, and didn’t say another word.

Despite everything, Danny slept better that night than he had in five years.

---

Want to check out some more of my work? Here’s a big directory of everything currently available to read; sign up here if you’d like updates, media recommendations, and new works delivered to your email inbox.