(For the Blogger censors ... this a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.)
After that initial session of brutal sex servicing Inti, Cam came to a stunning epiphany after a few days...
I had become what I now knew I needed to be - a rough-trade male hustler. Not an investment banker. AI was going to take my job sooner or later. Probably sooner.
I had cut my hair into a short Caesar fade style to give me a rougher-looking edge and a more appropriate appearance; I also wore a semi-permanent tattoo sleeve to broadcast what I was - an eager, dirt-trade fuckboy with a penchant for big, muscular, blue-collar guys.
Inti had taken me to some of his regular clients - firemen, bikers, the guys at the Black Gold Lounge - as another set of holes to be used and abused. My confidence and stamina had grown by leaps and bounds when servicing men became a regular part of my life, and I never felt the sense of accomplishment as I did now when I was sucking dick and getting split open and filled with cum. I limped home many times after long and rough sessions (with a large plug in my ass) and my favorite activity was visiting construction sites during the day that were filled with sweaty, well-built and half-naked men all eager to plow my ass or shove their cocks down my throat...
Here are some examples of Cam enjoying his new occupation:
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