...Bobby chuckled at how Ricky milked his audience, even in the sexual arena. Observers expressed their appreciation with favorable comments. Ricky released the pose and laughed, lying back against the mattress. Bobby knew he knew exactly what he was doing when he relaxed his beautiful body into a provocative pose. Bobby noted guys licking their chops, hoping for a chance to do what the black guy had just done. A skinny blond guy who wasn’t too bad looking took the initiative and came onto the mattress, kneeling before Ricky. A moment later, he was sucking Ricky’s cock. Ricky lay back and let him suck him off, gyrating his hips as the guy took him deeper into his throat. Bobby marveled at how beautiful Ricky’s face appeared in the throes of his orgasm, his long lashes closed over his eyes, his parted mouth drawing in shallow breaths while the stranger coaxed his milky release.

When it was over, Bobby sat quietly in the shadows while Ricky rose and dressed.

Hips swiveling, Ricky sauntered toward Bobby. When Bobby tilted his head up, his eyes were level with the crotch of Ricky’s blue jeans.

Ricky shot Bobby a grin. “Been here long?”

Bobby nodded. “I saw most of the show.”

Ricky laughed. He crouched next to Bobby’s ear and asked, “Did it turn you on?”

“Human animals get turned on watching other humans fuck, don’t ya know? Whether or not we want to. It’s kind of a knee-jerk reaction.”

Ricky stood. “So you’re telling me you would’ve gotten turned on regardless of who was up there doing it?”

Bobby thought about it. “Maybe.”

Ricky’s smirked. “Bullshit.”

Bobby shrugged. “Okay. You’re more fucking gorgeous than most other people here. Who would I rather watch? You, of course. But, then again, I’d also be happier if I actually fucked you myself.”

“Hey, you were the one who got all pissy when I came by last week.”

“’Cause it was, like, two-thirty A.M. and I had a major client early the next morning. And…you were drunk.” He paused and looked at him. “It’s not like I don’t love having sex with you. You know that.”

Ricky leaned back into his hip and gave Bobby a seductive look.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get a drink.”

Bobby was aware of numerous eyes on Ricky and him as they walked toward the small bar in the room. He had to admit, he liked people knowing he was with the guy they were all drooling over. And he liked knowing he was more to the pretty boy than just a one-time fuck.

As Ricky ordered drinks, Bobby considered how few of these guys would know how to deal with Ricky on a day-to-day basis, outside this arena. Ricky was an entertainer, with an entertainer’s ego and, therefore, special needs. Most of these guys would bail when Ricky started getting difficult—if Ricky didn’t dump them first. Or else they’d get so hung up on him, they’d become his personal doormats. Bobby understood him in a way most people didn’t. Basically, he was honest. He tended to tell it like it was. Amazingly, Ricky appreciated that more than having people blow smoke up his ass by telling him what they thought he wanted to hear—even if he sometimes got uppity at first.