The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit by Andrew Ashling

there is.
    5
Thank you.” With that he had almost run out of the little room. Landar
    had taken his time to get dressed.
    Only later, when he saw that the coins the stranger had seemingly so negligently left to pay for the room were actually silver moltars, he understood that he had been paid for his services.
    It was surprising how quickly he had gotten used to having money in his purse. What remained of the three moltars lasted for a few weeks, by the end of which he had started watching out for the man, hoping he would want another go. He hadn't seen him, but there had been others. More than enough others to be picky. As luck would have it he liked more mature guys, and they in their turn seemed to be attracted to his youth. He chose them carefully. He never went out of his aesthetic comfort zone and they had to be clean.
    Until, one night he met this burly old fellow, richly dressed, reek— ing of some strong, sweet perfume. He was almost bald, but combed what remained of his hair from just above his left ear over his shining scalp. At least sixty, he guessed, wrongly. Actually Drevau Heemar was fifty-two years old. Landar immediately ruled him out as a possible contact, as he used to call his clients. Too old. Ugly. Seemed rough.
    But he was amusing and very generous company. It hadn't been only the beer, though that had helped, but mainly the staggering amount Heemar was prepared to pay, just for a look.
    “Just for a look?” he had asked, mildly surprised. The man had nodded. Landar had followed him to his lavish residence. In the richly decorated bedroom, Drevau had sat down on the enormous bed. On a little table he had piled five gold rioghals. As if he couldn't care less, Landar had taken all his clothes off. Surprisingly, he had found it more embarrassing than having sex with a complete stranger. He felt ap-praised as a piece of meat. Drevau had studied him, from head to toe, as if looking for blemishes.
    “Turn around. Slowly, very slowly.”
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He had done so, becoming ever more uncomfortable under the
    hungry stare of the man.
    “OK,” he had said finally.
    “That's it?” Landar had asked, far less sure than he had wanted to sound.
    “That's it. A deal is a deal. You can get dressed, take your money and leave. If you want.”
    Landar had reached for his pants.
    “Of course,” Drevau had drawled, taking another five gold pieces out of the purse lying beside him, “if you'd like to earn something more… But it's up to you.”
    He had looked at the man.
    “What… what would—”
    “I want to touch you. There,” Drevau had interrupted him, pointing a fat finger, with thick black hairs, at his dick. “Just feel it. That, and your ass.”
    He had held the gold coins before Landar's hesitating eyes, his face totally impassive as if he had no interest whatsoever in the outcome.
    Landar had agreed. It was only sensible. He was already naked anyway, and Heemar was a man of his word. There was no pressure.
    He had approached the side of the bed and let Drevau fondle his private parts, his face becoming red as his member rose under the surprisingly gentle ministrations. He had turned around when asked to, so Drevau could caress his ass with both hands. He tried to stand still when he felt one well-manicured finger gliding between his crack and softly pushing against his entrance, without entering it. His face became even more red when he felt a drop of precum dangling from the gland of his member. When he was asked to turn around again, the 6
man saw the liquid pearl. He smiled, putting one fat paw under
    Landar's ballsack.
    With his free hand Drevau had taken yet another five gold pieces out of the purse. This time he pouted his lips. Landar had nodded silently, mortified, but unable to resist the offer and let the man suck him until he came in his mouth. For the first time he had felt like a whore. Even more so when another twenty pieces made him lay down on his belly. To his relief he saw, while Drevau