Confessions of a Gay Male Escort 4: The Go-Between

“The client’s been hot for his best friend for years,” Veronica said. “And he wants you to pretend you’re his friend while you have sex.” I stroked my chin. “How realistic do I have to be? I mean, I’m not going to get tattooed or shave my head.” Veronica laughed. “No worries there. You just have to dress up. His best friend is a priest.” Okay, now I could see why the client wanted a substitute lover. Poor bastard, I thought. I’d been raised Catholic myself, and I felt for him. At least I could give him a night he would never forget. Adult readers only! This 7.000 word story contains contains explicit gay sexual situations. All characters are 18 or older. Excerpt: Veronica had briefed me thoroughly, and yet I was still nervous as I entered the elevator to our client’s penthouse. I’d never impersonated a priest before. It felt vaguely sacrilegious. Not that I was a particularly devout Catholic or anything, just raised that way. And if I’m honest: that feeling of sacrilege also made the whole thing feel pretty hot. Heck, I was already into tonight’s scene in a big way, and I hadn’t even put on the cassock yet. We were going the whole hog with the role play, and in my sports bag I carried a nice ankle-length classic black priest’s cassock all folded up, along with the other accoutrements. There was even a rosary. I had plans for that rosary, and they didn’t include praying.