off yet. I admit I miscalculated on being able to get between them and your cock, but between the tightness of the jeans and the gigantic proportions of your cock, I had little choice but to make some room. But technically, your pants are still on. And, second, this, Ben, isn’t a hand job. You’ll know when you get a hand job from me, and don’t you think you want that now, especially because we’re about to get into the big money offers?"

He had me panting. I still had my hands over my head, but it took effort to keep them there. I guess I thought as long as they were there, I wasn’t really participating in any of that. But they were feeling like lead. I had the urge to reach out and touch him. And I knew I could if I wanted to. He had made clear that I was free to put my hands on him if I wanted.

He didn’t misread my hesitation. He pulled back and unbuttoned his pants. "Here, maybe this will help you decide. This is all harmless. This doesn’t mean you can’t do it with the ladies; it just means you are one sexy guy; one sexy guy with a cock that any woman or man would love to get their hands—and other body parts—onto."

With that, he dropped his pants, and pulled off his briefs and his shoes and socks and stood there, naked, in front of me. He was magnificent. Wiry but perfectly ropy muscled and proportioned, fiery red hair at his crotch to match that on his head, and his dong wasn’t his smallest of muscles. His might be as long as mine; it certainly was thicker and it had a slight curve to it when hard, as it most certainly was now. My quaking arms went out to him and our bodies crashed together. We went back into a lip lock, this time my lips spreading on their own volition and my tongue meeting his. His hands spread under my pants at the hips and he pushed the jeans down my thighs. His hands wrapped themselves around my butt cheeks. For the lack of originality, my hands went to his thin buttocks. His hands were roaming my more bulbous, but well-formed butt cheeks. When our crotches met, our dicks crashed into each other and were both forced up and between our bellies, side by side. Clint brought one of his hands between us and encased both of the cocks. We rocked back and forth momentarily and then leaned back into the counter.

Clint exited the kiss and buried his face in my neck. I heard him say in a low voice, "Up to $520 for dropping trow, even though we haven’t finished that yet, and I’ll give you a bonus for the kiss, so let’s say $550. Do you want to move on to the hand job? $100 for that, but $200 if you let me finish it in a blow job."

"Yes, yes," I whispered. "That far. I can go that far." My hands were traveling along his back and shoulder muscles, then moving to the front and feeling his pecs and abs, admiring the work we’d done in the gym.

"Yes to what?" He whispered.

"Yes to it all so far. Suck me. You can suck me."

"There’s a caveat," he whispered into my neck.

"What?" I said.

"We won’t get to the big money