Before Tim could suggest any other payment plan ideas, I retreated from the shower, quickly toweled myself off and went into the bedroom. I pulled my pajama bottoms on, set my clock, turned off the light beside my bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and tightly shut my eyelids. When I opened them again sometime later, the room was dark except for the glow from the TV set. Tim was draped out on his bed, his torso propped up by pillows in front of the brass headboard, his legs opened wide across the satiny bedspread, and his hand slowly jerking off his hard cock. He was also smoking something, and it didn’t seem to be a cigarette. There was a sweet smell in the air, and I was feeling woozy. But, I couldn’t help myself. I watched him until after he had cum with a sigh and gone back to the bathroom. My attention then half focused on the nightstand between us, and I registered that he put some rather peculiar things on there from his backpack, including a couple of thin leather belts and a roll of masking tape. But the strangeness of that didn’t really register. I was really, really drowsy, and the walls of the room seemed to be swaying a bit. When Tim returned, he turned off the TV set, stubbed his weed out in a plastic cup on the nightstand, and then all was dark.

In the wee, dark hours of the morning, I was awakened by something heavy coming down on the mattress of my bed and the covers being lifted. Tim had come into my bed and was stretched out behind me, his body stretched along mine. His pelvis was cuddled into my ass. His left hand was fingering my hair and my ears and neck, and his right hand was slowly exploring my chest, abs, belly and crotch. As I drowsily came awake, I could feel his cock beginning to rise in the small of my back.

“No, Tim,” I managed in a sleepy voice, fighting with drugged sleep, exhausted from the road. But he put his right leg over mine then and pulled me toward my back. My pelvis was pointed at the ceiling, and his hand unsnapped my pajama shorts and took a grip on my cock.

“No, no.” I turned toward him and fought him—weakly because I still wasn’t awake and because whatever the smoke of Tim had been puffing was still drifting around the room. We rolled around in the bed, entwining our legs, chest pushing at chest, cocks flopping against each other, bellies heaving, which only served to excite us both and to make me lose my control. My hands stopped trying to push him away, and, instead, pulled and prodded and glided and squeezed. I was exploring him just as much as he was exploring me and just as sensually. These were my sighs and moans I was hearing; they weren’t all his. He had pulled my pajama shorts down to my knees, but I pulled them off my legs and tossed them aside myself.

“In the dark,” he whispered through heavy breathing. “Nothing is real; nothing counts in the dark, Chad. You can pretend tomorrow that this was all a dream. We’ll both pretend it was only a dream.”

“No, no,” my mouth was saying, but my body was showing that to be a lie.

“You will be paid in full, Chad. I can’t stand owing anything to anyone. I pay