The Pink Panther
Avina Garamond
Chapter 5
Vincent paid the taxi the fifty dollars to the man's house. He walked up the stairs until he found the right door. He took his boots off and put his stilettos on. He hid the boots in his bag and rang the door bell. He put his cat ears on.
The door opened. Paul smiled and let The Pink Panther in. The Pink Panther smiled and walked inside. He shed the trench coat and draped it over a seat. He walked seductively to the man and pulled him into a deep, lust-filled kiss. Paul grinned cheekily. He showed Vincent the bedroom and went to turn the lights off. Vincent stopped him and said he had to preform a check-up himself.
"Why?" Paul asked. "I gave the slip stating I was clean." Vincent shrugged.
"Its just a precautionary measure. Sometimes the slips can state you're clean before any symptoms actually show up. Don't worry. I don't bite." Paul licked his lips nervously.
"Can't I pay you or something and we can skip it?" Vincent was not pleased.
"No. Its mandatory," he said. He walked as close as possible to the man and licked his ear and sent kisses down his neck.
"Do not worry. I'm sure you'll be fine." Vincent gently nudged the man's clothes off. He trailed his fingertips down his chest, putting pressure occasionally to make the touch a tease by itself. The belt was undone and the pants too. They dropped to the ground. Vincent removed the briefs and then, not touching anything, examined the penis. He noted a kind of discharge coming out of the little opening. He sighed.
"You have gonorrhea."
"What?" Paul asked. Vincent repeated himself.
"That's not possible. I was checked only several days ago."
"Well, gonorrhea can take a few days to circle though your system before the infection is noticeable. The doctors probably just skipped over it. Does it hurt when you go to the bathroom?"
"No... Well... I thought it kind of stung this morning but I thought it was because its really cold in the bathroom that I just thought the temperature made me think it stung." Vincent shook his head.
"I can't permit you to have intercourse with me." The man looked taken aback.
"What?"
"Its a no go. I can striptease all night if you like."
"Can't you top then? I don't have gonorrhea is my ass." Vincent shook his head.
"No."
"Well. I payed for a night, so I want to have sex. Didn't you bring a dildo with you or something?" Vincent's eyebrows shot up.
"No one has ever wanted a dildo with me involved. I could sexually please you with one but only if you have one of your own." Paul groaned.
"I don't... have one... maybe... I'll check my wife's bedroom. Hold on." Vincent sat on the bed, utterly disgusted. The man paid for an allnighter when he had a wife? The man looked for half an hour in every room of the house. Finally he came back.
"Would uh... this do?" he held up the object. It was a skewer for shiskabobs. The handle was made of ceramic and was shaped to look like three strawberries on top of each other. Vincent nodded, inwardly shocked and revolted. He took the tub of lubricant out of his bag and coated the handle in the gel. He set the tub and skewer on the floor. Paul set another skewer next to it, with the handle shaped like grapes.
"Do you want me to striptease?" Vincent asked. Paul man nodded, thinking he would get everything he could out of his allnighter.
Vincent took his clothes up, walked around the room. He unlaced his corset completely. String by string. He sat on the bed and teased himself. He gave himself a handjob and splurted cum and lapped it up. He raised himself on all fours and turned so that his ass pointed at his viewer. He took the skewer carefully by the sharp side. He didn't want to hurt himself on the edge. He thrust the handle into himself. He gasped. The strawberries made the ceramic very knobby. Vincent twisted it in himself, trying to get the feel of the thing before he withdrew it.
He heard a groan from his audience and smiled. At least he knew how to make the sick bastard regret having any sexual relationships. He thrust the skewer in and out of himself, moaning wantonly, as if he liked fucking himself with a skewer. As if it felt that great that he was bucking into it. He left it inside him.
"Would you like to yank on it?" he asked Paul. Paul's eyes lit up and he greedily took the skewer by the sharp side and starting punching the handle into Vincent as fast as he could. Vincent arched as if he loved the contact. Moaned loudly and stroked himself. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach but told himself to keep moaning.
He couldn't take it anymore. He was going to puke soon. He came in his hand. Paul kept thrusting that skewer into his abused rectum. Vincent, annoyed, seductively told him to stop. Paul stopped abruptly, leaving the skewer inside Vincent.
Vincent took it out himself. He set it on the side of the bed. He told Paul to go on all fours on the bed. Paul did so while Vincent coated the grape shaped handle of the second skewer with lubricant. He was more gentle with Paul than with himself. The grapes slid in, one by one, stretching Paul's anus. Vincent pulled it out gently and put it back in. He twisted it around. A few times, he saw Paul twitch. He aimed for the spot and thrust the skewer handle back into him. Paul moaned.
Vincent smiled. He pulled the skewer in and out of his customer, earning a moan with each thrust. He quickened the pace, wanting the stupid bastard to be sore all of tomorrow.
~*~
Vincent spent all night with no sleep alternating between fucking himself with the strawberry skewer and fucking Paul with the grape skewer. He hated the bastard. Hated him. Hated him. Finally, it was four in the morning. He said he had to get going. He laced up his corset and put his clothes back on. Paul gave him a little over two thousand dollars. Vincent told him to pay extra for the cab fee. He put his trench coat on and left.
In the elevator, he changed his stilettos to boots and took his cat ears off. He hailed a late night taxi down and told it to take him to Sephiroth's condo. He paid the driver and ran into the building. He found the first bathroom he could find in the lobby and ran into it. He puked his guts out. He spent a full half an hour in the bathroom, vomiting first his dinner, then lunch, then bile. He came out of the stall and freshened himself with cold water from the sink. He tore open a condom with vanilla flavoring on it and chewed it as though gum. It tasted very vaguely of vanilla but mostly of rubber and he spat it out soon enough. At least the taste of vomit wasn't as powerful.
He drank water from the water fountain and finally went into the elevator. There... he leaned in his corner, mind blank. The elevator stopped on Sephiroth's floor. He went to the first door he saw and put his key in. The lock turned and clicked open. He opened the door and came inside. He looked up finally.
Sephiroth stood, waiting for him. Vincent closed the door behind him. He looked towards the floor, then suddenly, dropping the bag and everything flung himself on Sephiroth's neck and cried his heart out.
He felt Sephiroth steer him to the couch but he didn't care. He felt Sephiroth try to sit down and it didn't matter to him. He just wanted to hear something comforting. Something. A hi at least. He continue to sob into Sephiroth's chest. He felt strong arms wrap around him and stroke his back and his hair. He continued to cry until he had no tears left. Exhausted, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Sephiroth looked at the clock. It was five-forty five. Vincent was so, so late. He was in bad shape too. He took Vincent's trench coat off first, then carried the exhausted figure to his bedroom. He tucked Vincent into the covers and left for work.
He opened up the company, said he was taking the day off, and came back home. Vincent was still asleep. Sephiroth made him breakfast and coffee and woke him up. Vincent woke, eyelids already swollen and puffy. He ate quietly. Occasionally, silent tears fell into his coffee. Sephiroth sat on the bed next to him.
He asked what happened. Vincent told him of the fiasco. Sephiroth held him and hugged him and did everything he could to help Vincent through his explanations.
Vincent finally forgave Sephiroth for selling him off. He even said he'd take the customer on again once he'd treated himself. Still, Sephiroth called into the Hall and said The Pink Panther was going to go on a week-long vacation.
Vincent smiled. Sephiroth... Sephiroth understood him now. He hiccuped and hugged Sephiroth.
"I... I love you..." he said. Sephiroth simply hugged him back and told him to go to sleep and rest up.
~*~
Sephiroth looked through his computer, baffled. The screen showed stocks but Sephiroth's mind was on Vincent's words. Love? As in... love? Or friendship? He finally decided Vincent meant friendship. He often heard the prostitutes in the Hall tell each other they loved each other in friendship. And Vincent simply could not love him. First of all, he wasn't gay. He already had said that he had a girlfriend several years ago. Second, Sephiroth had sold him of to a fag who had gonorrhea. No love could survive a low blow like that.
He started looking for colleges for Vincent. He had to get him out of the prostitution business as quickly as he could. He spent hours, but all colleges that even looked like they took math seriously wanted better high school grades. He sighed.
He wanted to help Vincent. But seems so far, he's only hurt him.
~*~
Vincent enjoyed the week off. Sephiroth had made sure he was still earning money by being the customer himself. Vincent felt as if Sephiroth was returning his love. He was overjoyed, loved his crappy life, and kissed Sephiroth all day. Which confused Sephiroth to no end. Why would Vincent kiss him outside the bedroom?
He didn't seem to be able to comprehend that Vincent truly loved him.