"Gotta have a smoke," said Paul, surrendering his wrist to the stamp.
I was surprised when Paul asked me join him for a cigarette, but Broadway wasn't the kind of area that I would send a friend, let alone a prospective client, out to alone. My cock was so hard from the floor show that I was finding it difficult to walk.
The doorman stepped in front of us, smelling of the smoke from everyone who had lit up just outside.
"I'll need to stamp your hands, Gentlemen, if you want back in." He raised up a stamp-pad with the club's logo dripping in red ink.
"Gotta have a smoke," said Paul, surrendering his wrist to the stamp.
"You too?" he asked, as I held up my wrist.
"Not as bad as I need blow job," I joked.
"Them girls is pretty hot tonight, huh?"
"Oh, yeah…" I sighed, waiting for the traffic to clear so we could cross the street.
"I hear that pretty boy down there on the corner is good," he laughed.
Paul checked him out as he followed me across the street toward the car.
"So what did you and Grayson think about the proposal today," I asked, unlocking the doors.
"He was pretty impressed. Likes the caliber of your staff." He closed the door after he got in, but rolled the window down before lighting up.
"And you?" I knew that Grayson was sold on our business, but Paul had held out on expressing a strong opinion one way or the other in any of our meetings. It was pretty clear that he wasn't a 'yes' man in Grayson's company.
"I have to admit, Michael, that I like your product and the possibilities that it presents to our company."
"Is there a 'but' hanging on the end of that sentence?"
"Well, let's just say that I find the working relationships as important, if not more important, than the product. I want to make sure that we all think alike on things."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Hey check it out," he said, pointing to two men walking toward a car in the parking lot. It was the pretty boy the doorman had pointed out and some guy in a suit. We were parked three rows back from the street and they walked to the back of a Bronco in the row in front of us, but over a couple of cars. They looked around the parking lot and then the guy in the suit handed some money to pretty boy.
"I wonder what that's about." I looked over at Paul and he nodded.
"Watch."
The guy in the suit unzipped his pants and pretty boy crouched down like a catcher and went to work on him.
"Jesus Christ!" I hissed. "The guy's doing him right here in the parking lot?"
"Why not?" grinned Paul. "They're not like chicks who have to lay down to enjoy it."
"I can't believe he's doing him right here."
"Well, let's see," said Paul in a calculating voice. "He is running a slight risk of getting caught in public, and probably a greater risk of getting beat up in a dark parking lot."
"No shit," I agreed.
"But then he has positioned himself in a lucrative location, and has decided the minimized overhead outweighs the risks, and thus increased his profits."
The guy in the suit jerked a few times and leaned against the back of the car for support as he came. Pretty boy had finished him up, and stood back up as the man zipped his trousers. Paul used that moment to cough loudly out the window. The man in the suit panicked and ran to get in his car and drive off. Pretty boy decided to walk casually in our direction. I started to get real nervous when Paul whistled him over to the car.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"Hang on a sec," he said, waving the guy over to his window. He leaned in and smiled at Paul and then looked over at me and nodded.
"Did you guys enjoy that little show?"
Paul chuckled and I looked shook my head.
"Looks like you finished him off pretty quick," said Paul.
"Time is money." His flippant comment amused Paul even more.
"See, Michael. I told you he was a keen businessman."
"I gotta be if I'm going to survive," he confirmed.
"How much?" asked Paul.
My heart stopped when he suggested that he was going to be pretty boy's next customer. I looked on in shock.
"$50 bucks." He looked over at me and then down at my crotch. My cock was visibly pressing against my trousers. "I'll blow you both for $75."
Paul reached into his jacket and pulled out a wallet, all the while looking over at me and grinning. I shook my head no as he pulled out a $100 bill and handed it to pretty boy.
"If you do a good job, you can keep the change."
"You won't be disappointed," he assured Paul.
"You wanna do it in the back seat?" Paul asked.
I couldn't believe I had let him smoke in my car, and now he was planning on getting a blow job in the back seat. How the hell had I got myself into this situation?
"No, I don't get into cars," explained pretty boy. "It's too high a risk."
"See," said Paul, opening the door and getting out. "The guy is a fucking business genius." Paul leaned his back against the opened door and started unbuckling his belt. Pretty boy crouched in front of him as Paul produced a half-erect cock. I watched him suck it into his mouth and then I stared out to the parking lot and swallowed hard. I couldn't believe what was happening.
"Have you ever had a blow job from a boy, Michael?" asked Paul.
I looked at him and shook my head no. Then I looked down and watched pretty boy take the whole thing into his throat.
"They're not like chicks, who will only suck the head... if you're lucky," explained Paul. "Pretty boys like hard things, don't you?"
The boy shook his head yes, and Paul rammed his mouth harder. My cock was reacting to the scene and deceiving me.
"You don't have to treat them soft and cuddly like chicks," continued Paul. "They like things hard and rough. Ain't that right, pretty boy?"
Again the boy shook his head yes, and Paul grabbed the back of his head and held it as he came in his mouth. Each grunt from Paul's throat vibrated through the car, and it wasn't until he was zipping up his trousers that I felt myself breathing again. Paul got back inside the car as pretty boy walked over to my window and waited.
"It's all paid for Michael, go ahead and give it a shot," said Paul, nodding toward pretty boy. He pulled out a cigarette and started to light up.
"That's okay," I said, nervously. "I think we better get back inside."
"Show me you're a risk taker, Michael," said Paul.
I looked at him for a moment and realized the meaning of his comment.
"You mean this is all it would take to prove to you that I'm the kind of person you can do business with?"
He nodded his head yes.
I stared out the front window for a moment and then looked at pretty boy leaning against the side of the car.
"Fine," I said, opening my door and getting out.
I leaned against the door, as Paul had done, and unzipped my pants. In my mind all I could think about was the sooner I got it over with the better. As soon as I pulled my cock out, pretty boy was all over it.
Paul was right about it being a totally different sensation. There was no teasing and gentle licking, like I was used to from my wife. He knew exactly what he was doing and didn't hesitate to swallow the whole thing.
"Shit," I hissed, as I grabbed the door for leverage.
"Not bad, hey Michael," encouraged Paul from inside the car.
Pretty boy slipped a hand under my balls, and pressed and squeezed all the right places while engulfing the entire shaft of my cock.
"Oh fuck," I groaned out loud.
"Let him have it, old boy," chuckled Paul. "He likes it hard."
I was coming. Jesus Christ I was going to come in a guy's mouth. There was no holding back. I didn't' have to give it to him hard, because he was taking it all on his own. He was a professional, there was no doubt about it. I would never admit to anyone that it was probably the best blow job I had ever had.
Pretty boy stood and wiped his mouth before I even began to move. Paul got out of the car and walked over to were I was standing. I was struggling to pull it together enough to zip up my trousers.
"Nice job," Paul said, patting pretty boy on the back. "You do good work."
"Yeah, well..., I'll catch you guys later," he said, walking toward the street. "I'm here every night if you need me."
"I'll keep that in mind," assured Paul.
I stared at the ground and waited for my head to clear.
"You okay?" he asked, standing by the door, and lighting up another cigarette.
"That was a fucking trip." I tried to laugh, but it didn't come out.
"Well, I for one, am proud of you," said Paul. "You surprised me."
"Not nearly as much as you've surprised me."
Finally, it came out a laugh. I locked the doors and we started heading back to the club.