He's been to so many apartments that this one did not feel different from any of the others. It had the same objects, the same colors, the same feeling of a home, and the same essence of a lonely man wanting connection but only finding it through sex. Each morning though the man they had laid with the night before, was gone before the morning.
Cato was one of those men; a man who left cold sheets. He moved from partner to partner through the nights, making men feel both elated and smaller than a grain of sand. He had the power to make the strongest of men beg and weep for what he had to offer. Cato was blessed as a sex god and yet cursed, he believed, to only ever having one night stands. For now, he was okay with that; sure, some nights he felt the loneliness that surrounded him, but every time he started to feel this happen, he made a move on his next bed partner and forgets all about his moment of weakness.
Tonight, it's a man named Peeta, who told Cato to scream Pete. As if Cato would scream someone's name out, as if anyone would ever get that pleasure, that honor, that knowledge of Cato without control. But Cato nodded when 'Pete' told him this, for Peeta had a great body; a well defined chest, muscles straining at his every movement. Big brown eyes that show emotions Cato is only able to see in other people's reflections, but never his own. Peeta had a strong jaw but lips that were too small for Cato's liking. He wasn't exactly what Cato liked in his men but, for tonight, he would do.
Peeta made the first move, kissing Cato with a rough, mesmerizing kiss, or at least, Peeta tried to make it like that, but Cato was to used to this type of guy, they want all the power and they want to ejaculate last. It was laughable to think that Cato would be the first to orgasm or even do it at the same time as the other male. To lose that control would never happen, and to be a master at what he did, that was all about control. He made men feel what they never had before with just a few movements of his hands.
He would never tell anyone but, at the innermost part of his soul was a hidden want. A want to have someone make him feel like he had made other men feel, someone to come home to after work, someone to cuddle next to without any awkwardness. Ultimately, he just wanted someone to care for him, maybe even love him, like what he saw other couples do.
For now though, Cato would sleep with people to make himself forget all emotion, feel only the pleasure he got from fucking the man of the night. And tonight's man was already moaning under Cato's cunning hands.
'Easy,' Cato thought. 'Why do you keep screwing these easy men, Cato? Is it not time for a challenge?'
Cato assured himself that tomorrow night would be different, a challenge. But for now, he had a man to please, and a reputation to keep.