I was reveling in a false ending, having been sucked dry by Clint. He wasn't finished yet. His mouth had gone straight down to my butt. He was still holding me under my knees, and he pushed my legs farther out and was kissing and licking my asshole. I came back to the real world in a hurry then.

"Clint, no. This was great, but we're at $750 and that should do me. I never intended to go this far even."

"Do you?" Clint raised his head until our eyes met. "Precisely. I want to do you, Ben. You're beautiful. You can't just break it off here."

"No, man. This is enough. I . . ."

"$250 for a fuck."

That almost took my breath away. "Another $250? Uh, sorry, Guy, but . . ."

"What's the problem, Ben? You've already been with a man now. It's nothing new. Thousands of guys do it. And thousands of guys continue doing women too. There's some pain, of course, especially the first couple of times. But the pleasure is beyond anything you can get from a woman. The worst that can happen to you is that you'll never again enjoy a woman as you do a man. Listen, $150 for a prostate massage and another $200 for a fuck. That's $350 more."

"No, sorry . . . what's a prostate massage?" This was probably a question I shouldn't have asked.

"There's nothing queer about that," Clint responded with a tone of irritation in his voice. "Doctors do it for guys all the time, and the guys pay, and it's all okay with everyone. They give prostate examines all the time by sticking their fingers up your ass. With a prostate massage they just leave it there for a while and get your nuts off. Don't you know that women aren't the only ones with G spots. The man's prostate is the same thing; some men build up so much semen that they have to be milked by a doctor routinely. Massaging the prostate eases the pain from semen buildup, and the pleasure of getting yourself off this way can be greater than a straight fuck. Come on, it's obviously a new experience for you, one that you could get with a prescription, and it doesn't mean you're queer. Okay, last offer, both for an added $500."

I gulped. "Well, the prostate thing doesn't sound too . . ."

Before I had finished, Clint's mouth was back on my asshole and he was kissing and tonguing the rim. I squirmed a bit when the tongue pushed slightly into the asshole.

"Gotta loosen you up down here, Ben, so that it's all pleasure and no pain when I insert to reach the prostate. I'll have to use some lubricant. It will help friction and will help relax you. You're too tense, you need to relax."

"Okay," I said, "I'll try." It must have been lubricant that he'd taken out of the drawer earlier, because I felt a cold glob of gel at my asshole. Clint was spreading it around and rubbing it in with his fingers. Almost immediately I felt myself relaxing down there and loosening up. He tentatively penetrated the hole with one well-lubricated finger, and it didn't feel so bad. He held the finger there near the entrance, waiting from the lubricant to take its full effect.

"Here," he said. "Let's get in a better position.