"Sure, yeah, I'll be there."
He paused; a serious expression came to his angelic face: "I shouldn't mention this...but...but..."
"But WHAT, Evan?"
He looked me square in the eyes, and lowered his voice, "I guess Randall's wife hired a detective agency—she might suspect something is going on...be very, very careful—okay?"
"Well, yeah—of course I will...who is it? Do you know the name of the agency? It might help if I knew their name."
"I think Randall said it was 'Blue Moon Private Investigations'...gotta go lover—see you in a week!"
We kissed and he left.
I poured myself a glass of wine and thought the information Evan told me over in my mind. This was definitely not a good development. I could lose everything I had worked for up to this point in time. A detective agency? Hell, it could be just a matter of time before this blew-up in Randall's face. Was there any way I could help Randall?
I took a taxi and met with Randall the following week in 'number 14'. He sat on the edge of the bed while I performed a strip tease for him. I undressed him and sat on his lap and we kissed for a long time. I told him I loved him and he said, "I love you, too."
We lay side-by-side kissing and stroking each other's cocks. I knelt between his legs and gave him a long, slow, tortuous blow-job. He screamed when he shot his load in my mouth. I wasn't able to swallow it all and cum covered my cheeks and dripped from my chin.
I kissed and sucked his balls then concentrated on his asshole. My tongue curled in-and-out of his anus. I tongue-fucked him for ten minutes before his cock became hard again. I had him sit on the edge of the bed. With my back towards him, I mounted his hard cock and worked my way up-and-down his magnificent member.
"Oh, Randy, play with my cock—PLEASE PLAY WITH MY COCK!!" I begged him.
He reached around and stroked my hard penis in time with my asshole sliding up-and-down his throbbing cock. We fucked a long time. When I felt his strong hands holding my hips firm, I knew he was ready to cum. I fucked him faster and his hand on my cock quickened its pace, too.
Our loud cries of ecstasy filled the room as he shot his load inside my ass. My cock spewed semen into the air and it landed on both of us. When we were spent I climbed off him and still standing, I spread my legs and bent over and cleaned his cock with my lips and tongue. I could feel a river of his cum oozing from my asshole and down my thighs.
Randall's divorce was kept very quiet. It never made the news. The only information I received was from Evan. When he had returned from his trip, we resumed our relationship. He was still 'my boy' whenever he visited my apartment.
He told me Randall's wife got just about everything in the divorce. Randall had to resign from the company, and his money supply was low, and he'd have to live a very modest lifestyle from now on.
One day Evan wondered aloud, "How on earth did that detective agency know to put concealed cameras in 'number 14'?"
"Yeah," I said sheepishly, "I don't know—they were pretty darn clever, huh?"
I hadn't seen Randall since that fateful day, but he was still paying for my apartment and giving me the allowance. Evan said it would just be a matter of time before Randall and I could get together again. In the meantime, I was very happy with Evan—he was everything I could hope for and want—except for the money, that is.
One day as Evan was about to leave, he said, "Oh, hey...Randall and I are meeting with one of his old clients tonight. You want to join us?"
"No...I dunno...I'm pretty tired—you wore me out today!" I answered, and he laughed."Ahhh, who is this guy?"
Evan looked at me; a smile curling on his lips and said, "Oh, he's only like the 4th or 5th richest man in the world—he's from Saudi Arabia—a real live Sheikh—he's worth billions!"
"Wow!" I replied, "...it would be rude of me not to meet him, I guess."
Evan laughed and told me the time and place to meet them.
"Sheikh al Faisal, this is Johnny," Evan introduced us.
We shook hands and the three of us walked into a dimly lit restaurant for dinner. Randall was running late, but he'd be here, Evan assured us.
We sat at a circular booth; The Sheikh waved me into the middle and he sat beside me. Evan was on my right.
During dinner, The Sheikh didn't say much, he seemed contented to listen to me and Evan talk of things we basically knew nothing about. He appeared to like me as he smiled often at me and would pat my thigh from time-to-time. When I was in the middle of a long story, I gesticulated with my hands. I would touch his shoulder, and rest my hand on his thigh. One time I touched the front his ornate robe and my hand brushed against his erection. I looked at him and smiled.
Randall never did arrive, but I hardly noticed. By the end of dinner, we were getting ready to leave; I figured it was now or never: Under the table I firmly grasped his erection and stroked it. He smiled at me.
When we stood, his beautiful robe hid his condition. As we walked out of the restaurant I felt a panic: he still hadn't said anything to me. I had to fight the urge to throw myself at him and beg him to fuck me.
Since we both had arrived by taxi, Evan suggested he drive The Sheikh to his hotel then he'd take me home. The Sheikh climbed into the backseat of Evan's car, and before Evan could close the door, I scrambled in and sat next to The Sheikh. I heard Evan softly laugh.
I sat very close to The Sheikh, our thighs touching. He still hadn't said anything to me and I felt desperate. I lightly rubbed his thigh. When I tried to feel his erection, I discovered he'd lost it. My rubbing became more urgent. Just as Evan parked at the curb of his hotel, The Sheikh took hold of my hand and pressed it against his erection.
"Perhaps you will join me upstairs?" he asked with a slight smile on his face.
"I'd love to," I answered, secretly thrilled at the chance to be alone with a billionaire.
Evan winked at me as we left the car and entered the hotel.
Going up to his room, I finally got a good look at him: Old, fat and ugly, but I wanted to be with him; I wanted to make an impression; I wanted him to want me.
Needless to say, I was fantastic in bed. I incorporated my moves with what I learned from Evan and I sucked and fucked The Sheikh to three orgasms before he'd had enough.
I wanted to stay the night with him, but he said it wouldn't look dignified. I understood. He walked me to the door; my heart pounding; was this going to be it? He gave me a hundred dollars for a twenty-dollar cab ride.
Oh my God, I thought. I couldn't leave without telling him how I felt. I couldn't let the opportunity of a lifetime slip through my fingers. Blood rushed to my face; my pulse was beating a mile a minute.
"Ah, please...Mister...Mister Sheikh", I stumbled; he looked at me oddly. "I could make you a very happy man. Please take me with you—please, I want to be your boy!"
We stood at the door a long time before he spoke: "I leave in the morning—you want to come with me? You want to leave this life for mine?" he softly asked.
"Oh yes, Mister Sheikh—please, yes, yes I do—can I come with you?" I pleaded.
He smiled and nodded—my heart leapt with joy.
"Your friend will pick you up—be ready at 8 o'clock!"
I wanted to hug and kiss him, but I knew nothing of his country's customs. "Thank you—thank you—I'll be ready!"
"Don't pack anything," he said, "You will have a whole new wardrobe in my country."
"Thank you—thank you," I gushed.
I was waiting outside my building at ten to eight. I wasn't going to miss this for the world. My boyfriend—the billionaire...my boyfriend—The Sheikh. I smiled. I had finally made it to the top. From now on, every want and need I have will be taken care of in luxury. All of my hard work had finally paid off. I was as giddy with joy as a school girl.
I was daydreaming of the palace I would be living in when Evan drove up. I immediately opened the back door and took my place beside my man. He smiled at me and I returned it with a huge smile of my own.
Evan didn't drive to the main airport; instead he went to the executive terminal. Looking out the window I saw dozens of beautiful and expensive private jets. To my surprise, when the guard at the gate saw who was in the backseat of Evan's old car, he let us through the gate and we drove directly to a plane on the tarmac. I was impressed as hell.
"Good luck, Evan," I said, "...what are you going to do now?"
"I'm moving in with Randall tomorrow—he bought a new house!"
"I thought he was broke?" I asked.
He saw the puzzled look on my face and laughed, "Oh, did I forget to tell you about his stock options?"
Whatever, I thought.
A very large middle eastern-looking man approached the car and he opened the door. I climbed out and he pointed to the open door on the plane, as I walked up the stairs to the plane I looked back into the car: The Sheikh was giving a fat envelope to Evan. I didn't know what that was about and I didn't care.
The inside of the plane wasn't what I'd expected—it looked old and rundown, but that didn't damper my spirits. I waited for The Sheikh and he led me to three seats towards the middle of the plane. He sat next to the window, I was in the middle, and the large man sat beside me. We were the only people on board—that impressed me!
The Sheikh explained that the man was his assistant, and that I'd be getting to know him quite well. I smiled at The Sheikh. My heart was pounding with excitement.
The plane took off almost immediately. We were in the air for about a half hour when the pilot made an announcement in Arabic. We must have been at cruising altitude because The Sheikh unfastened his seat belt and told me to do the same. He took my hand and placed it on his crotch. I found his cock through the material of his robe and massaged him to an erection.
"Pretty boy," he smiled at me,"...kneel between my legs and satisfy me with your mouth and hands."
I was more than happy to obey his request. On my knees, I pushed his robe upwards until his cock and balls were exposed to my view. The stench from his genitals smacked my nostrils hard. He must not have washed himself from last night, I thought. Undeterred, I went to work pleasuring him.
The Sheikh and his assistant conversed in their native language. I couldn't understand a word, but their language sounded intriguing.
Sheikh: This pretty boy is such an idiot he begged me to take him with me. (they laughed) He believed his friend when he was told I am a billionaire with the largest oil fields in Saudi Arabia (they laughed)
Assistant: You do have the largest brothels there...and who knows? You're only 999 million away from a billion! (they laughed)
Sheikh: (sighing) He is very good with his hands and mouth...his asshole is loose, but with exercise it will tighten.
Assistant: How do you want me to train him? What do you expect?
Sheikh: I paid good money for him. I want it back quickly. With the proper 'training', he can suck 50-55 cocks a night. At seven nights a week, I'll soon make a profit out of him.
I fought past the smell and soon had his cock hard; my hands and mouth went to work in earnest to please him. I dreamed of my new life and wondered if he'd give me a boy or two for my own.
Sheikh: Yes, he will suck Arab cock all night, and during the day, I will give his asshole to the whorehouse guard dogs. (they laughed)
I loved hearing their laughter.