Colin sat in the bar, sipping his wine, watching the door. He’d arrived fifteen minutes early, and to be honest, he was only sipping his wine now because he’d guzzled his first glass.

I’m not nervous, he told himself. Not like last time, anyway. After all, he knew Hamilton now – or at least, what he looked like. What to expect.

Well. Sort of. Tonight they’d “go all the way.” He almost laughed out loud at the thought. He sounded like a teenager. He felt like one.

Hamilton entered the bar, his million-dollar smile lighting up at the sight of Colin.

“You’re early,” Colin said, standing up to shake his hand.

“I thought you might be as well, so I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit compulsive that way.”

Hamilton signaled the waiter. “I love your suit.”

Colin absentmindedly touched the lapel. “Oh, thanks. Someone at Barney’s picked it out for me.”

“Jeremy?”

Colin blinked. “How’d you know!”

“He picked the whole outfit, right?”

“Yeah… How did you know?”

“He’s very good at picking what works for…” He stopped, and something flitted over his face, just for a moment, before that radiant smile returned. “Okay, that’s a lie. Basically, he gave you the full Hiddleston.”

“What’s that?”

“The blue Gucci suit, the light blue shirt, the dark blue tie, the pocket square. It’s what Tom Hiddleston wore to the premiere of the new King Kong movie. Whenever he gets a client who’s nervous, has no clue what he wants, and is in a hurry, which I assume you were?”

Colin laughed. “I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. There were just…”

“Too many choices?”

“Yeah! I’m an actor. A voiceover actor. My wardrobe is basically cargo shorts and t-shirts.”

“For shame,” Hamilton chided him with a wink.

“I know. My ex-wife says the same thing. I just told him, ‘You pick it, I’ll buy it.’ And that’s why he gave me the ‘full Hiddleston’?”

“Yep. You have the right build for it, it goes with your coloring, and Tom Hiddleston is never wrong.”

“Good. I just… I wanted to upgrade, you know? I mean, we’re going to be meeting more often and, going to this kind of place, I knew I’d better.”

Hamilton laughed. “We don’t have to meet at this kind of place, you know. We could meet at an Applebee’s or whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Oh god no. But… yeah, to be honest? I’m…” He didn’t want to say, I’m spending so much money on you that the last thing I want to do is spend this kind of money on swank bars and swank restaurants, too.

Hamilton took his hand, and he got that electric shock again, the pheromones racing between them. “Next time, we’ll both go casual. Have a hot dog in the park or something.”

Colin blew out an exaggerated sigh. “Good. I can’t keep up this high class act forever. It’s just not me.”

“No worries. You just be yourself.”

Colin felt a wave of relief. “Thank god. I’m just not this guy, you know, Mister twenty dollar glass of wine and a tie that costs as much as my first car.”

“We’re here to have a good time,” Hamilton assured him. “You don’t need to dress up for me.”

Colin startled himself by saying, “Well, good, because I’m ready to take all this off now.”

“Ah. Sounds good to me.”

* * *

Upstairs, Hamilton startled Colin by pushing him up against the wall before the door closed behind them, kissing him passionately. Colin’s heart rate spiked as Hamilton’s mass pressed his into the wall. He put his hands up under Hamilton’s suit jacket and slipped him out of it. Hamilton didn’t even care that it was on the floor, it seemed – his hands were on Colin’s ass, grabbing it hard.

Hamilton pulled back just enough for Colin to get the full effect of the dark look on his face. “You’re gonna get fucked tonight.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Colin whispered.

He was astonished at Hamilton’s renewed attack on his neck, his face, his lips, at Hamilton’s hands roaming his body. He stiffened up.

Hamilton slowed his movements, whispered in his ear. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just…” He sighed, and pushed Hamilton away a bit. “No offense but… you don’t need to overact.”

Hamilton blinked, with what was either genuine surprise or the best acting Colin had ever seen.

“I’m not acting. You think,” Hamilton said, stroking the back of his hand over Colin’s crotch, “I’m faking this? You think,” he whispered into Colin’s neck, the breath cool on his hot skin, “I’m not into this? You think,” he said, letting one finger trail down Colin’s pants, right along his ass crack, “I’m not…” He put Colin’s hand on his own massive erection. “Hard for this?”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

Hamilton took his hand. “You just nothing. Stop thinking. Think with your cock tonight.”

Colin laughed. “Yeah. Good plan.”

“Here,” Hamilton said gently. He started to undress Colin with all the care that Jeremy at Barney’s had taken in dressing him. Only Jeremy’s fingers hadn’t darted inside the shirt as buttons were manipulated, wandering across his skin, and he certainly hadn’t touched Colin’s zipper, never mind taken it down in an excruciatingly slow manner, every little vibration of the zipper’s undoing running along Colin’s dick and stiffening it.

Hamilton gently but firmly led a naked Colin to the bed, and pushed him down on his back, where he could watch as Hamilton disrobed.

“Don’t tease me,” Colin said, his hand on his cock.

“No slow strip, eh?” Hamilton was out of his shirt in a flash, and Colin let out a little moan at the sight of him, that body, that perfect chiseled torso. Hamilton dropped his pants, pulled off his socks, and then his underwear was at his feet.

“Don’t move,” Colin said, stroking himself. “You’re a fucking god. You don’t know how many times I’ve come, just looking at your pictures. Just this, your body, and now here I even get to see your face.”

“And how does it rate compared to the rest?”

“Head and shoulders above it.”

Hamilton burst out laughing. “Nice.” He climbed up the bed towards Colin, until he was over him, on top of him, face to face. “You’re so hot, you don’t even know.”

“Liar.”

Hamilton shook his head, his face serious. “If I met you in a bar, I’d walk right up to you and say, let’s fuck.”

“You would not. You’re too much the gentleman for that.”

Hamilton arched an eyebrow as he pried open Colin’s legs with a knee. “Am I?”

Colin’s legs reflexively opened, and Hamilton put his face in Colin’s crotch, licking his balls.

“Oh fuck. Fuck that’s good.”

Hamilton pulled a hair from his mouth. “We’ve got to shave you down there.”

“I thought about that. But I was scared to do it. I was afraid I’d cut them off or something.”

“Nonsense.” Hamilton jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, and Colin reveled in the sight of his athletic body in motion. He came back with a wet washcloth, a towel, a razor, shaving cream, and an evil grin.

“You brought a razor?”

“Be prepared,” he said. “Lift up.”

Colin lifted his hips so Hamilton could slide the towel under him. “I better not ask what else is in your overnight bag.”

“No need to ask,” Hamilton murmured, swabbing Colin’s balls with the warm washcloth. “You’ll see.” He pulled out a small pair of safety scissors, showing Colin the rounded tips, then he went to work on Colin’s bush, dropping the chunks of hair on the towel.

Colin’s hard-on disappeared at the sight of the razor. Hamilton smiled. “It’s better if you’re hard, it make the skin tighter.”

“No can do,” Colin said, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Hamilton reached up and put a hand on his chest, gently. “Relax. I’ve done this a thousand times. Several hundred of those times on myself. Just think of it like a trip to the barber.”

“The ball barber.”

“There really should be ball barbers,” Hamilton said thoughtfully, applying shaving cream to Colin’s crotch. “It’s such an acrobatic affair, doing it yourself.”

“Yeah, you should be able to just walk in and take a seat with all the other men waiting to get their balls shaved.”

“Talk sports with your legs up in the air.”

“Yeah, you’d really have to tip that chair way back.”

“Or just have OB-GYN tables with stirrups.”

“It could double as a sex club at night.”

“Why wait for night? With all those asses in the air then and there?”

“Right. ‘How about those Mets? Yeah baby, harder. That Syndergaard is something, huh?’”

Hamilton smiled slightly, but Colin could see his concentration was complete. Sooner than Colin expected, Hamilton was wiping him down with the washcloth.

“There. Feel for yourself.”

Colin reached down and touched his ball sack, then gasped. “It’s so soft.”

Henry bundled everything up in the towel and dropped it on the floor. “Feels good, huh? Don’t take your hand off it. Keep touching it.”

Colin sighed at the pleasure he felt. “God, all these years, I never knew.”

Colin had his eyes closed, so he wasn’t prepared for the next sensation, below his balls, a sudden shock. His eyes flew open and he saw Hamilton’s face buried lower, his tongue dancing around Colin’s asshole.

“Omigod,” Colin said. “Omigod.”

“Yeah,” he could barely hear Hamilton say, his words buried in Colin’s ass. “God I love to eat a nice ass.”

Fire alarms were ringing in Colin’s head, and the blood rushed to his asshole in response, but the fire only grew. He heard a discreet pop, the unmistakable sound of a bottle of lube opening, and idly wondered when Hamilton had pulled it from his bag when Colin wasn’t looking.

Then he felt Hamilton’s fingers where his tongue had been. One, then another, fighting Colin’s physical resistance.

It hurt, but fuck, how could pain feel good? Because it definitely did. Mixed signals were burning up the wires to his brain. Hamilton didn’t order him to relax, didn’t say anything, just pushed in one finger, then the next, then the third until Colin let out a long sigh and his hole gave up the fight, still tense but no longer an impenetrable barrier.

“Fuck me,” he hissed.

Hamilton was on top of him in a flash, his hands pinning Colin’s to the bed. “I’m gonna. I’m gonna fucking take your cherry.” His hard dick ground against Colin’s equally stiff one, and his voice was low and dark. “Your first cock is gonna be this big fucker.”

“Yeah. Go big or go home.”

Hamilton smiled. “That’s right.” He reared back on his haunches, and Colin watched as he deftly opened a rubber and slid it over his pole.

“Prepare to be boarded,” Hamilton said, slicking up his dick with lube.

“Aye aye, captain,” Colin said, his legs as wide and as high as he could make them, his ass an offering.

Henry pushed his slick tool up against Colin’s crack, grabbing Colin’s ankles and bending them back, then leaning between them to kiss Colin on the lips.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

Colin reached up and grabbed his hair. “Don’t you fucking dare. Fucking give it to me like the pro you are.”

Hamilton’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah? That’s what you want?”

“Yeah, take my goddamn cherry.”

Hamilton’s face was dark, intent, and Colin wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake, if he’d found himself in bed with a psycho, but then Hamilton’s lips pulled into a smirk.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I want you to… OH FUCK!” He screamed as Hamilton shoved his way in. The pain was so intense he couldn’t stand it. “Pull out, pull out!”

“That was just the tip,” Hamilton said, laughing at him. “You sure you want the full monty?”

“No, no,” Colin half cried, half laughed. “Jesus, really, that was just…”

“About two inches’ worth.”

“Okay, okay, I changed my mind. Fuck, that hurt.”

Hamilton kissed him on the forehead. “Now we do it my way.”

“Yes, sir.”

This time, Colin felt Hamilton’s dick pressing against his sphincter, and he instinctively resisted, the pain memory in charge.

“Take a deep breath,” Hamilton said. Colin did. “Now let it out slowly.”

“What, am I having a baby?”

“In reverse. Just do it. Deep breath in. And out, slowly.”

About two seconds into his exhale, just as he thought it was just a relaxation exercise, he felt Hamilton push into him, just a little.

“Deep breath. And… that’s it.”

“Fuck…”

“Again…”

Each time, Hamilton pushed a little deeper into him. Each time, he relaxed a little more, welcoming the stranger inside him. The pain faded as the feeling of fullness increased. It felt amazing. To have a man inside him. Hamilton fucking Dillon, inside him!

“Oh!” he cried out as the tip of Hamilton’s dick touched his prostate, and his own hard cock bounced in response.

“Now we fuck,” Hamilton said. “Nice and slow.”

Hamilton’s motion was smooth, regular… at first. Then he’d startle Colin by mixing up the rhythm, pulling out almost all the way and then slowly but insistently pushing all the way back in. Hamilton pushed him over on his side, wrapped his arms around him, and fucked him like that. Pushed him onto his stomach and fucked him like that. On his knees, then on his back again.

“This is my favorite,” he said, looking up at Hamilton. “I like to see your face when you fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, master.”

Colin jerked himself off, looking at Hamilton’s face, and thought how funny it was – the one thing he’d never seen in all the pictures, and it was getting him off more than any of the rest of it, more than the dick in his ass, more than the taut body against his. This was what made his balls tighten, his breath hitch, his hand rat-a-tatting frantically over his hard-on, the one thing he’d never been able to see in all the pictures, all the fantasies, and here it was and it was so much better than anything he’d dreamed.

He blew his load with shout after shout, Hamilton egging him on, timing his strokes inside Colin with artistry to match Colin’s convulsions, making each one stronger than the last.

When he’d reached the end of his orgasm, or thought he had, Hamilton pulled out and yanked the rubber off with a fluid motion, then grimaced with pain as he blew his own spectacular load across Colin’s torso, the first pop landing on Colin’s face, in his mouth, Colin reveling in the awful wonderful salty slimy taste of it.

“Hell yeah,” Hamilton said, collapsing on top of Colin, gasping for breath. “Fuckin’ a.”

“Yeah. That,” Colin said, words deserting him, too.

“No,” Colin said a few minutes later, when Hamilton went to get up for a wet towel. “Can we just stick together like this for a while.”

“Absolutely. As long as you like.”

Colin sighed, the weight of Hamilton on top of him, his breaths on his neck, the most comforting feeling in the world.

To his astonishment, in a couple minutes, Hamilton’s breaths started to come deeper and heavier. He’d fallen asleep.

Colin smiled. Wasn’t that what they always said men did after a good blowout? Left their partner ready to talk and cuddle, to no avail.

But Colin was all talked out. He had so much to think about now that the silence was golden.

There was no way, some part of him affirmed, that Hamilton could have faked his pleasure. Colin was an actor, he could always see the left brain of the “technical actor” at work behind the “creative actor.” The technical actor was the part of a performer that made sure he was always “cheating out,” i.e. facing the audience, that he was on the mark, in the frame, in the right light, even as the creative part of his brain screamed his lines in unfeigned emotional agony.

Hamilton wasn’t… He hadn’t… It was hard to put into words, and Colin wondered if he was kidding himself. He’d seen plenty of acting, but he’d been part of a real live fucking, had he? He didn’t know what “faking it” would look like.

Yeah you do, another part of his brain said. If Hamilton had pretended that Colin was hot, had pretended he was enjoying it, Colin would have known. He would have been swept away by the performance, sure, but then, he would have been able, now, afterwards, to pick apart the performance, see where the artifice had been.

But this… some part of him was sure that Hamilton had given himself a “night off,” that he hadn’t been outside his body, watching it fuck Colin, standing there with a clipboard and issuing instructions. Hamilton had been present.

Maybe that meant he was the greatest actor of all time, but…

There’d been a moment for Colin, on his back, near their climaxes, their eyes locked, a moment in which he believed. That money had put them on the track, but it wasn’t money that took them to the finish line.

He shook himself, suddenly horrified. God, don’t. Don’t be a cliché, don’t fall in love with the hooker with a heart of gold.

Gently, he rolled Hamilton over onto his side. Hamilton snuffled but didn’t wake up. Colin extracted himself from the bed. He wetted a washcloth under the quietest stream of water he could coax from the faucet, cleaned himself off, and got dressed.

Only when he compulsively patted all his pockets (phone, keys, wallet), did he remember the envelope stuffed with cash. “Leaving it on the dresser” felt so icky.

He found Hamilton’s jacket and slipped the envelope in the inside pocket, then left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could.

Outside, the June air was warm, the heat wave coming closer to the city. There was an eroticism on the streets on nights like this, people out late, wearing little, bodies passing bodies, so close, eyes darting to and away from other eyes, or staying connected, bodies slowing, stopping, turning towards each other, other bodies irritated at the sudden traffic jam.

Colin felt it around him, but there was nothing there he wanted. He walked all the way home, walked the streets with a glow, a smile.

Whatever else is or isn’t true, I just lost my cherry to the hottest man in the world.