Fifteen Shades of Gay (For Pay) by T. Baggins Read Free Book Online Page A

looked at the floor. The patterns on the rose marble seemed to ooze together, twisting beneath his bare feet.
    “I won’t put in a complaint to your employer,” Paresh continued. “I just want to know. What is it?”
    “They’re not attractive to me,” Andrew managed at last. “Yet they keep touching me, assuming I want them… “
    Paresh’s thumb dug into the towel around his waist. It fell, revealing muscular thighs and an erect penis. Andrew stared, unable to tear his eyes away. Paresh was smaller than he, just a normal man, not intimidating or disgusting. In fact, there was nothing unattractive about him whatsoever. The man was beautiful from thick glossy hair to flat stomach to perfect rounded calves.
    “Look at you,” Paresh murmured, reaching out to touch Andrew with warm, gentle fingers. “You’re getting hard. Does this feel good?”
    Andrew made a soft sound. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn’t stop staring at the other man. And of course his own member, always the first body part to betray him, plumped up the instant Paresh’s fingers made contact.
    Paresh began kneading more insistently. “Andrew.” His soft accent gave the common name an exotic lilt. “Tell me. In your whole life, has a man ever touched you this way?”
    “No,” Andrew whispered.
    “Yet you can’t help but respond, can you? Despite your very nature.” Paresh nodded toward the sunken tub. “Get in.”
    “I don’t—I wouldn’t know what to—”
    “I won’t hurt you.” Paresh’s fingers continued their work, his thumb maddening Andrew as it stroked him firmly, almost painfully. “I’ll only use my hands. And my mouth. Get in.”
    Andrew’s body took charge. Intellect suspended, pulse thudding in his ears, he climbed into the tub. Paresh turned on both taps, hot and cold, adjusting knobs until the water flooding around Andrew was the correct temperature. Pouring some honey-colored gel beneath the flow, Paresh filled the tub with mountains of fragrant suds. Soon Andrew’s modesty was restored, his maleness hidden as the water rose and the bubbles multiplied. Yet he wasn’t relieved. The hot water stroked him, caressed him, worked its way between his cheeks. The arousal he’d endured while Paresh touched him was nothing to what he suffered now, waiting for Paresh to join him in the tub.
    Smiling, Paresh lowered himself into the hot sudsy water. “Andrew. Be honest. Have you ever kissed a man?”
    Andrew shook his head.
    “It frightens you?”
    “Yes.”
    “What do you think will happen?”
    Andrew didn’t dare answer. Even as the truth came to him, he was painfully hard, hoping Paresh would abandon this line of questioning and touch him again.
    “Tell me.”
    “I’ll throw up.”
    Paresh laughed. “I used to be the same way, when my parents introduced me to my wife. I thought if I had to kiss her on the mouth, I’d vomit. Do you know, we’ve been married for six years? We have three beautiful children. She understands how I am. I do my duty, but I never kiss her on the mouth.”
    “Isn’t it difficult?” Andrew asked, thinking about his own father and mother’s mysterious relationship, about all the questions he’d never asked. “Going to bed with her, I mean?”
    “Some pleasures are universal.” Paresh dipped a washcloth in the water. “Close your eyes. I won’t kiss your mouth.”
    Andrew obeyed. The washcloth traveled over his chest, giving extra attention to each nipple. Then it slipped up and down each arm, working along biceps and triceps. Finally the washcloth submerged, finding him at last.
    “Oh….” Andrew whispered as Paresh began to tug. The washcloth’s texture, combined with Paresh’s expert motion, rapidly transported Andrew to the edge. He was taut all over, breath hitching, clenched down to his toes.
    “Oh, Andrew. I do like the way you pant,” Paresh laughed. “Raise up. Sit on the edge of the tub, just there…”
    Andrew did as he was told. His body knew