Christine and I were both excited that I had the job. I reached between her legs and got a finger into her love tunnel, seeking out her clitoris. A whimper escaped her mouth, and we started toward the bedroom. That’s when her phone rang.

Christine started to ignore the phone, but then she caught sight of a clock. “Fuck, it’s quarter after seven.” Christine answered the phone, and kept apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry, I’ll be home as quick as possible.”

“No, I’m at Erica’s.” She listened for a solid three minutes, then broke into tears.

“All right, I’m with Greg. I know you don’t want me seeing him, but we love each other.” Christine had overestimated my commitment to the relationship, but I didn’t mind.

“Too late, Mom. We’ve been fucking for three years now. He loves the way I suck his dick, and I love the way he eats my pussy.” Uh-oh. This part of the new side of my girlfriend sounded like a train wreck that didn’t know it had already happened.

Christine was dressed and out the door in four minutes. I suspected she was going to have a tough time explaining the torn clothes.

There was very little left in the apartment to eat, so I vowed that tomorrow I’d buy some groceries. I checked my clothes; one clean T-Shirt and no clean pants. I’d have to do laundry tomorrow too. I found some decent porn on the computer and put that on. I got out two partial bottles of vodka and an empty glass. The next thing I knew it was nine a.m.

I found a loaf of bread and ate two pieces for breakfast. I put the boxer-briefs in the laundry hamper and put on grey briefs, my last clean underwear. I grabbed the hamper, my key and the laundry detergent and went to the basement to load the washer.

I wasn’t concerned about leaving the apartment in my underwear. It was an adults-only apartment complex and nobody was ever around after 8:30 in the morning anyway. As expected the laundry room was empty.

Climbing back up to the second floor the apartment door across the hall opened. A guy a little older and a little taller than I was exiting the apartment, also in his underwear. I thought the place was empty.

“Hi, I’m Brad Emerson,” the guy said, holding out his hand.  I introduced myself. “I moved in yesterday,” he told me.

“I saw you going downstairs in your briefs and figured it must be all right. Laundry time.”

I wished him well and headed into my apartment. I ate another couple pieces of bread for breakfast and vowed that as soon as I had pants to wear I’d go out for groceries.

The computer beckoned and I responded. E-mail was the usual crap – “Increase your penis size” - “Meet your Soulmate on Zoroastrians Mingle” - “Hair Loss? Try this new miracle product!” - “Subscribe to Lesbian Living.” Why is everybody worried about how little privacy they have and how the big corporations know everything about us? I looked in the mirror and decided I wasn’t a balding short-dicked lesbian Zoroastrian, as the marketing geniuses must have concluded.

There was an e-mail from Christine. ‘See you in the afternoon. Bringing a surprise.’ More experimenting, no doubt. Good news!

Another e-mail from Ed, my best friend. ‘Going to your place with Erica and Christine this afternoon. See ya.' So, Ed and his girlfriend were the surprise. I wondered what that was all about.

Yet another e-mail, this one from Josh. He was the only openly-gay member of our clique. ‘Camping trip next week. You available?’ His version of camping was a secluded spot, a tent, one sleeping bag and two naked guys fooling around all day. About once a month I went "camping" with him and gave him a hand job. No big deal. Nearly all the guys in our group did the same. Josh was a good guy, and it was just helping out a friend. I sent back a non-committal reply telling him I was starting my summer job today and didn’t know about my availability.

Incoming Skype call from Jake.

“Hey.”

“Hey back.”

“You still coming tonight?”

“You bet your ass I’m coming. I need the money.” I had no idea what this was about.

Jake cleared that up quickly. “How close do you live?” I told him. “Okay. Another $50 if you walk over here in just those boxer-briefs.”

This was getting weirder and more lucrative at the same time. I decided that more lucrative was worth however weird it got.

“Fifty bucks it is. Anything else I can do to make more money?” I didn’t want to sound anxious, but if this was a one-night job I wanted to get as much out of it as possible.

Jake leered at me and licked his lips. “I’m sure we’ll think of something once you’re here. And don’t worry about blowing it.”

This was sounding better and better. $250 for one night put me more than halfway to paying the rent for next month. Jake signed off. Then a thought hit me.

I did an internet search for “party entertainer.” The results were strange. I found clowns, magicians, hypnotists, comedians and a dozen other acts.

The only one that seemed applicable to me was clown. At least that’s what my mother said I was, when she wasn’t calling me “asswipe.”

The knock at the door ended my internet search. It was too early for Christine, so I was hardly surprised to see Brad – still in just his low-rise white briefs. He had my laundry hamper in his hands, “I put the stuff in the dryer and waited. Mine was drying also. Hope you don’t mind.”

Of course I didn’t mind.

“Do you have a computer?” he asked. “Mine isn’t set up yet. I have an internet business I need to check on.”

I invited him in. “Computer’s in the dining room. I’ll be done in about two minutes.”

I pulled up e-mail again while Brad stood behind the chair. He put his hands on my shoulders. They were strong and warm, and a pleasant feeling suffused my whole body, emanating from the shoulders. This felt right. I leaned my head back. The back of my neck was resting on his erection. For reasons I didn’t understand, that was another pleasant feeling. I had no idea what was happening. I couldn’t be getting aroused by another guy. In any event, I let out the first of several whimpers.

As I went through the remaining e-mails Brad’s hands left my shoulders and made their way down my chest. His fingers toyed with my nipples, stopping to fondle and tweak them. My breathing got ragged. Strangely, so did his. Then his hands were making their way down my back, sending signals to my dick that it shouldn’t have understood.

“What sort of internet business do you run?” I asked him breathlessly. I needed to do something to distract myself from my growing erection.

“I give nude massages,” Brad answered. “Yes, both my client and I are nude.”

I felt a stirring below my waist, but I couldn’t attribute it to anything I was willing to acknowledge. Brad’s hands returned to pleasuring my chest, then one hand descended to the waistband of my briefs. Brad leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. His fingertips, then his fingers, then his whole hand disappeared into my briefs. His fingertips were tracing my steel-hard rod.

I offered Brad the computer, so he pulled up a second chair. “I’ll just sit beside you.” I was sorry his hands were off me, and that I wasn’t resting against his hard-on. But, you can’t have everything.

Brad pulled up his own e-mail. He had new appointments each of the next three days. He was free the rest of today. I found myself enjoying the idea of spending the day with him.

“Here, let me show you my business,” Brad offered. He entered a URL and was given a warning about adult content. “There are several products. Massages, private escort services, party entertainment and so forth.” He clicked on “Massages” and a new warning was displayed about graphic sex.

I looked with amazement. The first picture was of Brad, nude with an erection, standing beside a massage table. On the table was a man lying on his stomach. The caption read, “Massage by hands with exotic oils. All parts of your body except your cock.”

The next picture was similar, but this time the client was on his back. Brad was holding the man’s dick in his fist. “Massage by hands with exotic oils. All parts of your body.”

The next series of pictures were eye-opening. The first showed Brad and the client both nude in bed. Brad was sucking on the man’s nipple and he was fisting the man’s dick. The next picture showed Brad sucking on the man’s meat, a look of pleasure on both of their faces. The third picture showed Brad’s dick buried in the client’s ass, expressions of ecstasy on both faces. “Ultimate massage, by hands with exotic oils, by mouth wherever you want, by our appendages in your holes.”

Brad asked what time I was leaving to walk up to Jake’s in my underwear. I was shocked into complete silence. Brad explained that he had been at Jake’s when I reached him by Skype, and he had suggested that Jake pay me to walk there in my boxer briefs. “I’ll walk with you.” Oh. My. God.

I moved uncomfortably in the seat. I noticed that Brad’s hand was back inside my briefs, where he had grasped my dick and was stroking me. When Brad turned to me and planted his mouth on my lips, I lost it.

Before I could tell him to take his hands off me and to fuck off, I kissed him back. I punished his lips with my mouth and invaded his mouth with my tongue. One hand yanked his briefs off, the other grasped his male member. I stood up and clutched him to me as we ground our crotches against each other.

I pulled him by the hand and said, “Bedroom.” I thought he would understand, but after a few steps he shoved my shoulders downward and suddenly I was kneeling, looking his trouser snake in its eye. My mouth opened and I engulfed him, running my tongue over the head of his cock, sucking him in as far as I could, then letting him go to lick his balls and his shaft.

After four or five minutes of this I tasted his essence in my mouth as I was rewarded with a warm gusher of cum. I drank it all down, then began cleaning his cock with my tongue. That’s when Brad said, “Hi.”

I looked toward the door. Christine and Erica were staring at me.