Primal Pleasure: Banging My Attorney

When professional boundaries blur in the city of temptations.

In the soft light of morning, another day began with the presence of a handsome man sprawled across my bed.

Sporting my beloved blue drawstring cotton sweat pants, which showcased my hard-earned physique, I strolled towards the bedroom door, his resonant snores echoing through the solid oak door.

I tiptoed to the door, being mindful not to disturb the slumber of my towering giant, sprawled naked and barely concealed under a white, sheer sheet. As I stared, I noticed his hand grabbing his peen, perhaps to reassure himself of its presence.

Sipping my cocoa, I gazed out the window, reminiscing about the day Jason and I crossed paths.

"Morning," his deep voice rumbled. Jason emerged from the doorway, his tall, naked frame stretching in the morning light. I shot him a smile, still cradling my mug of cocoa.

"Last night was incredible. You were incredible," he murmured, stepping towards the window. His arms reached out for me, enveloping me in his embrace, carrying me over to the living room sofa.

"I'm Glad you enjoyed it," I replied, planting a kiss on his neck. The tiny hairs of his beard grazed my skin.

Jason and I hooked up on the regular, though I ain't one to rise to the same face each dawn. Variety's my vice; different fellas, different nights, that's my groove.

Yet, Jason? The dude had moved in several suits, his car was in the garage, his big-screen TV was hooked up, and his PS4 was hooked up. My study was morphing into his personal man cave.

I was used to the swift, no-strings-attached types, but Jason, oh, he had a knack for fucking.

---

Eight Months Ago…

"Our firm is the top rated on the West Coast; we have several attorneys listed in the top 20 BEX, and we were just awarded the Gold Shield from the NASP," the young woman said, reading off a list of the firm's accomplishments.  

I wasn't impressed.

"I was supposed to meet with Mr. Mason thirty minutes ago," I said, looking at my watch. I didn't particularly appreciate sitting idle, waiting for others who didn't respect my time.

Sure, the only other plans I had today were to jack off to some videos online and watch Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, but that's beside the point.  

"Mr. Kalin, I'm sorry for the wait. Mr. Mason is stuck in traffic. He should be arriving soon,” she said. 

I adjusted myself in my chair; for a law firm, they had shitty taste in furniture. 

A pale, skinny man approached wearing thin-rimmed glasses, smelling of fresh Ivory Spring.  

"Mr. Kalin, so sorry. You know traffic is a nightmare here." 

"Hmm, can't say that I ever had a problem with traffic in Vegas.” 

"Please, why don't we head into my office?" 

After an hour of his sales spiel, I was done. I wished someone would just shoot straight with me for once.

"Mr. Mason, sorry, not gonna happen. Thanks, though," I said, grabbing my stuff.

"Come on, Mr. Kalin. We can still—" he tried to plead, but I shut the door before he could finish.

"Fucking lawyers," I said, calling the elevator.

As the elevator doors parted, a tall, sharply dressed man emerged. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and his perfectly fitted dark suit highlighted his, well, perfect assets.

"Oops, pardon me," he apologized, grazing my shoulder.

"New eye candy," I murmured under my breath.

He made a pit stop at the reception desk, and that's when I pulled a ninja move, ducking behind this oversized, faux tree to get a better view of Mr. Suave.

"Mr. Kalin, I'd like to talk with you—," he pleaded.

I quickly waved him away.

Mr. Sexy had disappeared. I waited in the lobby to see if I could spot Mr. Sexy again. A tall, slinky woman passed. She looked important. 

“Excuse me, have you seen a sexy tall man with gray hazel eyes?” I asked.

“Ah, yes... Jason Long. Follow me, Mr. Kalin,” she said, escorting me to the other end of the office.

How the hell did she know my name? I thought.

"Mr. Long? Mr. Kalin's here to see you, sir." She flashed a smile and trotted back to her desk.

I coughed to announce my presence. He leisurely stood up, fixing his suit jacket. "Ah, Mr. Kalin, a pleasure to meet you," he said, striding over and delivering a handshake that almost dislocated my arm. "Apologies for the lobby incident earlier."

"Wait, do I have a name tag plastered on me?" I quipped, mock-checking my shirt.

"Sort of. We get these memos about potential clients. I took a peek at your profile before you graced me with your presence."

"Interesting. So, spill the beans. What does my profile say about me?" I teased, sneaking a peek over his shoulder.

"Well, that's classified," he remarked with a hint of secrecy.

"You're pulling my leg! My details are classified?" I countered, giving him a puzzled glance. “G-14 classified?" I smirked.

Knock—knock—knock. “Mr. Long, your two o'clock appointment has arrived,” a young woman announced.

"Anything I can assist you with, Mr. Kalin?" he asked, tucking his laptop securely under his arm.

Visions of Jason fucking me on his desk danced in my head. My cock shifted in my pants.

"Yes," I replied. "Let’s chat about handling my assets over lunch. Tomorrow. Todd’s on Sunset," I added, making my way to the door.

He piqued my interest, and I wanted to see precisely how long Mr. Long was. 

---

About an hour into lunch, I was ready to jump across the table and devour him.

He tried to keep it professional, but I veered the conversation to more sultry topics.

I gabbed about losing my virginity to a much older next-door neighbor and sucking and fucking a few frat bros during finals week in the library basement. It was the best study hall ever.

Jason wasn’t ready to share any of his freaky… sexcapades.  

"Is this your version of an interview, Ian?" He snapped, arms folding across his chest.

"Jason, if I’m entrusting you with my finances, you’ve got to open up. I’m not your typical uptight client. Would you rather I toss around cliché questions like 'What’s your greatest strength?'"

He sighed deeply. “Truth is, I’m dealing with some personal hurdles. Thought diving into work might help take my mind off it,” he admitted, dabbing his napkin at the corners of his mouth. “It won’t affect my performance, I promise.”

"Whenever I see a handsome man feeling down, I have a special remedy," I murmured, softly holding his hand. I've got a way to lift spirits and release tension, and right now, seeing you like this tugs at my heartstrings."

Surprise widened his eyes as I dropped my napkin and stealthily slipped beneath the table.

"What's happening—" he began, voice hushed, gripping the table as if to steady himself. He reached out, trying to catch my hands before I could reach his zipper.

"Easy now, just breathe. I know what I'm doing, baby. Let me be your remedy," I whispered soothingly, my lips finding their way to his shaft.

The light from the nearby bay window provided illumination for me to see Jason’s cock. It plopped out of its cage, hanging low, jumping whenever I touched it. He squirmed as I licked the head of his cock, my tongue moving across the slit rapidly as I caressed his quivering shaft.  

His cock was so thick my lips barely fit around it.

He shifted in his seat as I made my way down the shaft, burying my nose in his pubic hair. Jason released a soft moan as my strokes quickened. I wrapped my thumb and two fingers around his shaft as my mouth moved up and down.

His hands appeared under the table, holding my head down as he fucked my mouth.

“Would you like dessert, sir?” the waiter asked. Jason’s hands quickly moved back to the table.

Jason’s leg shook. “I’m…I’m…”

His juices released into my mouth, gushing out with force. The warm cream splashed against the back of my throat. My tongue traced his cock, making sure it was free of his cream.  

“…Sir?” The waiter asked.

I appeared from under the table, taking my seat,  to the apparent surprise of the waiter. I dabbed the corners of my mouth and used the knife as a mirror to make sure I didn’t have any of Jason's load left on my face.

Jason sat motionless with a look of both relief and disbelief.  

"No dessert for me. I'm full,” I smiled.

I motioned over to Jason and massaged his shoulders, "You were delicious, and you're hired," I whispered in his ear and kissed him on his flushed cheek.

---

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The dark, sparkling, ruby-red lights illuminated the mirrored tunnel entrance to Deja, a hipster spot on the strip just a few blocks from my building.

As you exited the tunnel, your eyes were drawn to the bar in the club's center.

Eight shirtless bartenders stood ready to grant your every wish. Ladies were dressed to the nines, and guys wore super-douche muscle shirts meant to impress but were repealed. 

"German chocolate cake, my good man," I shouted to the bartender over the heavy bass.

I surveyed the floor like a hawk, looking for its next meal. I went through the hot, sweaty bodies that occupied the dance floor, careful not to waste my drink. Though I only enjoyed dick,  I could recognize a good-looking woman and give her props.  

"Your breasts are huge; they look so real," I shouted over the music to a big, busted redhead. 

"I got them last month. They were a gift!” She said, leaning over.

I reached for a feel, "Don’t worry, I'm gay,” I reassured her. “They feel fantastical. I’m sure your guy is pleased with those sweater cows." 

“She is,” she winked and disappeared in the crowd.

Sweat poured down my back as I waded through the crowd, making my way to the poolside cabanas. I stood by the open fire pit to warm my hands.

It’d been five months since I swallowed Jason’s chorizo picante. He's been all business and no play since our first meeting.

No matter, he handled my business transactions and was tenacious. If anyone tried to screw me over, he'd pounce and tear them to shreds. He was worth every penny. I wish he’d handle me.

An open Cabana became available; I tipped the attendant and asked for bottle service and a few more logs for the fire. The attendant was young but cute. I hadn’t seen him around before. "What's your name?"  

"Greg."  

"New to Vegas, Greg?" 

"Moved a few weeks ago… from Atlanta,” he said.

"Really? I'm from the South.”

His hair was meticulously styled, and his looks were modelesque. Even though I was a tad tipsy, I knew the sound of sadness. Greg was running from something. He most likely moved to Vegas to escape something in his past, hoping for a new start. Everyone wants their happy ending, but those happy endings come at a heavy price in Vegas. 

---

 

Waving my hand, I called for a cab. It was three in the morning, and all the bitches and hoes were making their way to the next club.

My body was ready for bed, but my ass needed a little more stimulation. I was hammered. I stumbled off the curb, and after gathering my bearings, I  tried to locate north to head home.

The sidewalk was lined with guys handing out call cards for strip clubs. He offered a promo card for free cover into Big Daddy’s, a popular strip joint that provided everything to its clients.  

"I'm strickly dickly. You got any dicks to show me?” I asked, slurring my words.

The guy looked confused and didn't understand English, or I, in my current state, getting paid pennies to stand and hand the cards out to tourists.

I wasn't a tourist. I knew where the hot spots were; I  didn't need a card telling me where to find pussy, not that I wanted it.

Walking the streets alone at night in Vegas isn't the safest thing to do, no matter what part of town you live in.

The 10-minute walk allowed me to clear my head and sober up a little. I caught sight of my building. The doors slid open, and the bright lobby lights blinded me. "Welcome home, sir. I hope you had a pleasant evening," the lobby attendant said.  

I nodded. I reached in my pocket for a bill, "Here you go, Cedric.”  

I called out to Cedric as I stumbled into the glass-walled elevator, "Please send me that stuff that bubbles and smells good.”

Leaning on the wall, my eyes close to shield the light. The ride-up was a long one. Thoughts of Jason rushed through my mind. I decided to call him and give him a piece of my mind.

He couldn’t treat me like this; I was his boss. I staggered to my door, placing my thumb on the e-pad reader to unlock it.

The double doors opened, and I was finally home, alone. Grabbing the first bottle I saw off the bar, I phoned Jason and summoned him for a nightcap.  

---

Jason stood in my doorway, wearing a pea coat and jeans that showed off his manly figure. I was excited to see him, but the look on his face wasn’t as inviting as I’d hoped.

He sat on the sofa's edge with his head in his hands, pulling his face down as he looked at me. I took a swig of Patron, and the bottle was nearly empty.  

“How much have you had to drink?” 

“Not nearly enough,” I said, heading to the bar. 

“Ian, it’s five in the morning, and I’m tired. I came across town because you said you were in trouble.” 

“You don’t have to tell me what time it is. And I am in trouble,” I said, handing Jason a drink.  "I need somebody to hunch on, and I want to hunch with you," I said, sitting in his lap, feeling his bulge.  

He pushed me from his lap, "You're drunk." 

“Why haven’t we talked about what happened at the restaurant?” I asked, sitting on the coffee table facing him. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. That was risky, and it could have ended badly.”

“You enjoyed it; I know you did,”  I smiled.

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. I said it was risky, Ian. I can’t mix business with—” 

I interrupted. “Life’s too short not to take risks,” I said, moving my hands up his thighs.  He quickly shoved my hand away, "Knock it off, Ian." 

I stood and threw my glass against the wall, “What is your problem?”  

Jason didn’t look bothered by my dramatics. He sauntered over to the fireplace, looking at the photos that lined the mantel.  

He sipped his drink, “You know what your problem is? You’re a control freak. If you can’t have your way, you throw a temper tantrum just like a fucking child.” 

“You’ve got some nerve. You don’t know me,” I said, pushing against his chest.

He didn’t move.  

“You’ve got a lot to learn, Ian. You’re young. Not everyone wants to jump in bed with you at first sight,” he said. “You’re a country boy that moved to the big city, got caught up in the glitz of Vegas, and became a little whore, spreading his legs for every good-looking guy that crossed your path. And for the record, you don’t know me.”  

Tears welled up, streaming down my cheeks. I fought to hold them back, craving to feel valued, alive, and desired.

He reached out, his thumb brushing away the tears, a touch almost tender. I pushed his hand away. “Please, just go,” I murmured, head bowed, as I opened the door.

Jason hesitated, “Ian, I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

"No, spare me. You've said plenty. I'm flawed. I lust. I'm human," I muttered, handing Jason his coat, "Goodbye, Jason." He moved in for a hug. I recoiled, refusing his shallow compassion.

Shutting the door, I leaned against it, realizing all I craved was a fleeting moment. Perhaps he sought something more. Another drink, a stiff one, seemed like the only answer.

There came a persistent knock at the door. "Leave me alone!" I yelled from the bar. The knocking persisted, but I didn't respond.

I turned up the radio to block out the sound, blasting the volume. Amidst this, the phone began to ring; it was Jason calling. Reluctantly, I picked up. “You’ve made your stance clear, Jason. From now on, it's strictly professional.”

“Open the door, Ian,” Jason's tone turned insistent. “Open it, or I’ll force my way in.” I flung the phone onto the table, torn about letting Jason back in after everything. Eventually, I approached the door and cracked it open. Jason barged in, grabbing my arms and pressing me against the wall.

"Get the fuck off of me," I shouted, elbowing him away.  

He pushed me down to the floor, placed his elbow on my neck, and pulled my pants down. 

Forcefully, he parted my legs. He unzipped his pants and entered me raw, sending shock waves through my body; I tensed as he applied more pressure with each thrust.  

"Harder, Daddy! Fuck me harder," I pleaded.  

“That’s right, I’m your daddy. Call me Daddy,” he said, driving his thick cock into my tight, hungry ass. His cock slipped out; it was my chance to taste him; my warm mouth welcomed his  cock. 

"Suck it," he commanded while forcing my head down on his dick with his hands.

I gagged,  but I didn’t give up until I tasted all eight inches. The taste of his sweet pre-cum darted along my taste buds.

My tongue lapped across the tip of his dick, paying extra attention to his slit. He shuddered.

I found his weak spot.

I cupped his balls in one hand while stroking with the other, all while continuing to mouth his man meat.

I licked my finger and made my way down to his taint,  giving it extra attention. Inching my way down to his tight pucker, I slid my pinky in. Moans escaped his lips as I pleasured his back and front.  

His dick was coated with my saliva. I jacked his dick as I fingered his ass. His eyes remained closed as he held on to the sofa.

I moved behind him, kissing him along his neck and massaging his muscular back. I pushed him forward, tilting his ass up. I licked his back down to the top of his ass cheeks; he lifted his back in protest. With my right hand, I pushed him down.  “Relax,” I said as I spread his cheeks.

Taking my tongue, I started from his taint and licked to his ass. His body shook as my tongue made its way into his hole. Around and around, I went, darting my tongue inside his tight ass.

He pushed his ass back on my tongue, reaching back with his hand, shoving my face into his cheeks. In a swift motion, he flipped me upside down, my hands landing on the sofa, my ass turned right side up, meeting his face.

I felt his tongue enter my hole. My arms went limp, and my body tingled with delight. He held me tight, wrapping his arms around my waist, securing my ass to his mouth.

I cried out in pleasure as his tongue punished my ass. As the blood rushed to my head, I felt lightheaded; it was pure pleasure. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

As he licked and sucked my ass, I took his dick into my mouth like it was an ice cream pop,  sucking to get to the next flavor layer. We arrived in the kitchen, and as Jason held me tightly, he ate me out. I heard a shaking noise; I felt something cool land on my ass. "Oh my God!" I screamed.  

"Don't worry. I want to top off this sundae with some whipped cream."  

I could feel Jason's grip loosen. We made our way to the kitchen island, where he turned me right side up and laid me gently on the counter. He ran one hand over my chest, the other stroking my pre-cum drenched cock.

He teased my hole with his dick, stretching my walls with the head. His hips moved side to side, in and out. I matched his rhythm as my eyes locked on his.  "You're fucking hot," he said while running his thumb across my bottom lip.  

I took his thumb into my mouth, moaning as he screwed me on my kitchen counter. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside, sending volts of electricity through my body.

Pain, then pleasure, followed as he moved his hips in a circular motion. I opened my legs wide to receive every inch of him. He kissed my neck feverishly and gave lust-filled bites, leaving impressions on my neck. 

I grabbed his arms, tracing my hands up and down his muscular arms, holding on for dear life. His neck strained as he filled my hole with deep strokes; he was close – I could feel it.

I  wrapped my legs around his waist and tightened my ass as he let out a scream, collapsing on top of me. His body shuddered; I felt his warm juices blast inside my ass.

He wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck. He walked me over to the sofa, where I lay beside him.  

"Wasn't that intense," I said, placing my head on his chest, his heart still racing.  "Amazing," he said, stroking my backside.