He remembered the downsides of his current profession most clearly when he ran short on rent or the electricity got shut off - again - and he was forced to add a little something extra to his after show routine. There were back rooms for the purpose. Everyone knew. It wasn't on the books, of course. Strictly "volunteer work" as the manager reminded them with a leer before shows. Kurt wasn't convinced it counted as voluntary if he couldn't buy food without offering to suck somebody off in the back room, but he kept that to himself.

Stripping paid the bills, or almost paid them, and it left Kurt's days free so that he could go from pointless, failed audition to pointless, failed audition. More than a few afternoons, he'd collapsed onto the bed in his motel room-cum-home and cried himself into an uneasy sleep until his shift started that night. But then he was up on stage, he was moving, he was drinking in the attention, and the rest faded to gray.

Tonight was no exception. "Everybody's Got Their Something" began pounding over the speakers, and Kurt strutted confidently out onto the stage with a swagger. He wore a poindexterish suit, thick glasses, and pants that would, naturally, tear away at the right moment. He lost the blazer almost at once, tossing it offstage and offering the crowd a cheeky smile. The glasses came next. Those were cheap enough that he often flung them into the crowd, but since he'd just run out of ramen and the rent was due in three days, Kurt saved their cheap little lives by flinging the specs onto the blazer before winking at the men watching. He scanned the crowd for a likely mark. Some of the regulars were there, but he tended to keep his cool around them. They'd be back. He didn't like doing side jobs, and he definitely didn't want people he saw every night starting to think they could expect it.

Instead he looked for new faces, strangers who were likely just taking in the scenery and would never return. The crowd gave a lusty cheer as Kurt tugged his tie free and then flung his shirt into the backstage area as well. He took to the pole then, which also gave him a better chance to look around. And then he spotted his target. It didn't hurt that the guy was also the most gorgeous one in the place. The second Kurt locked eyes with the dark-haired stranger sitting a bit back from the stage, every move was just for him, every seductive smile trained right on the man. Whoever the guy was, he was definitely going to be coming to the back room.

Having overheard talk about the club from a co-worker in hushed tones, Blaine Anderson had finally decided to satisfy his curiosity as well as indulge himself after a long, hard day's work. The room was almost exactly what he'd expected; a Victoria's Secret store on crack painted in lurid colors and filled with tacky furnishings. A plush and empty light purple sofa caught his attention when he entered, and Blaine had made himself comfortable as the show began. Instead of a muscular Chippendale wannabe, the dancer who emerged on stage was a stunning man with an alluring body, a slender waist, and smooth skin that gleamed as though lit from within.

He was almost paralyzed with desire when the dancer smiled and those beautiful green-blue eyes focused especially on him. Blaine swallowed, his pulse hammering. The rest of the club seemed to melt away into darkness, leaving only him and the gorgeous vision as the only people in the room. Blaine grew uncomfortably warm in his business suit, unconsciously loosening his tie and collar as he stared with open lust at the dancer rotating his hips in ways he never dreamed possible.

As the music came to its close, Kurt made his way off the stage and let the next boy take his place. He didn't even bother to spare a glance at whoever was next up. He strode out into the crowd confidently. He'd felt the man's eyes on him even when he forced himself to scan the rest of the crowd to make them feel included as well. The man wanted him, and as he drew closer, Kurt took a moment to thank god if he even existed out there somewhere because the stranger's silk tie and perfectly cut Armani suit meant he also had the means to pay for a little fun.

Kurt leaned in close, ostensibly to be heard over the pulsing music of the next song, and offered just loudly enough, "Would you like a private dance? We have a back room..." He let his lips linger just a bit too close to the man's ear, breath warm against its shell, and was surprised to find how hard it was not to touch, to remember that touching wasn't okay for either of them without invitation. Still his fingers found the silk tie, and he held it, caressing, not grabbing. It was silk, after all, and rather beautiful, and Kurt let his fingers play mindlessly over the fabric as he waited for the answer he hoped would come.

The smell of the dancer and his warm breath in his ear aroused Blaine shockingly, so much so that he had to swallow and take a few deep breaths to keep control. //God, I'm going to come right here in my pants,// he thought. "Yeah, I'd like that," he whispered back. Blaine allowed himself to be led toward the back room, ignoring the jealous stares of the other men around him as his gaze caressed what had to be the most beautifully sculpted ass he'd ever laid eyes on. There was a hot, insistent pulse beating deep inside his groin. The dancer's very presence drove him wild.

Kurt's heart skipped a beat when the man agreed, the husky note in his voice and the look in his dark eyes making him doubly glad that they were retiring from the main flow of traffic. If he needed to do something a little less than savory to make rent, why not enjoy it? He glanced coyly back over his shoulder as he unlocked the back door and led the stranger down a hallway that was at least slightly better lit than the main club. The color scheme remained something out of an acid trip - all pinks, reds and purples splashed on the walls in the form of light or fabric or worn wallpaper. Kurt slipped his key into the farthest of the private rooms, the one his own dressing room bordered.

Once inside, he reached for the man's hands and clasped them in his own with a smile before leading the brunette over to a plush purple velvet couch. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll put on some music." The stereo in the corner was flanked by piles of burned cds with a wide range of music, half of them assembled by Kurt himself since most of the original selections available had ranged from trite to simply unacceptable. "Any requests?"

//Oh god... everything...// Blaine thought. His eyes drank in the beautiful vision willing to do anything for him. He could have easily taken himself in hand and gotten off from watching the dancer alone. Now only dressed in a black vest, thigh-length boots, stockings, and the flimsiest panties ever made, the other man was without a doubt the sexiest thing Blaine Anderson had ever seen. His mouth watered, and with a world of possibilities open to him, he asked almost bashfully, "Could I have a lap dance, please?"

"Of course," Kurt answered simply. God, the guy was even more gorgeous in better light. He managed to play casual rather convincingly, slipping a cd into the player and launching into Faithless' version of "If Loving You is Wrong." The beat was perfect, and the lyrics excellently dirty for the task at hand. Kurt knew that he looked good as he strode over to the stranger. It was good to know that now he had permission to touch at least enough to make the show fun. Badly as he found himself wanting to strip the other man down and see just what the suit was hiding, Kurt had to remind himself that it wasn't like they'd met at a bar and gone home together. The man was racking up credit card debt to get a little bump and grind and maybe something more.

With that in mind, Kurt stopped in front of his new client and began to swivel his hips enticingly. It wasn't hard to pretend like he was interested, like he wanted to seduce the dark-haired stranger. He did. It was more than a little depressing to think that he was half naked in front of an absolutely gorgeous man and at the end of the night the best satisfaction he'd likely get would be jerking off in his dressing room after his "encore" performance.

Blaine draped an arm casually over the back of the sofa, watching the dancer fulfilling his fantasies with ravenous intent. He honestly could not believe his luck. His first visit to a club of this sort, and he was being given a private dance by the most impossibly beautiful man imaginable. His body heat rising, Blaine thought his suit would burst into flames at any moment. "You probably hear this a lot," he started, his throat clotted with desire, "but you're absolutely incredible."

He didn't, actually, but Kurt answered coyly, "That's the sort of thing a boy never gets tired of," before moving in closer. He turned to face the man and in a surprisingly graceful series of movements managed to straddle the businessman's lap. There was really no hiding the fact that he was half hard already just thinking about what the man might ask him to do, but Kurt did his level best to ignore it and prayed that the client didn't mind. Normally he was barely interested in the proceedings, let alone turned on, but this guy... Hoping to keep the man's attention focused elsewhere, nimble fingers found his tie again. "I think we should loosen this a bit. You look flushed." Without waiting for permission, Kurt loosened the fabric and let it fall open, wishing he could do the same with the man's shirt. His hips moved to the music, still keeping the beat as Kurt guided the man's hands to rest on his waist. "You're allowed to touch now that we're alone."

Having gone weeks without sex, Blaine trembled with need when the dancer's warm, enticing body settled against his own. He felt restless and hungry and eager. A sharp, pulsing desire glistened in his dark eyes. His thick cock throbbed painfully within the ever tightening confines of his pants, and the erotic writhing of the dancer's gorgeous ass only served to make matters worse. "You feel so good," he sighed, a bead of sweat streaming a trail down one side of his handsome face. Giving into temptation, Blaine let one hand dip into the waistband of those skimpy black panties and ease into the cleft of those swelling moons. His breathing hitched, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs. "What if I said I want to do more than touch you?"

"I'd say you know what you can afford better than I do," Kurt answered with a smile before he leaned down to breathe in the man's ear, "And I'd also say yes." It didn't hurt that for once he wanted to do it. His mouth watered at the idea of sinking to his knees and sucking the man down. Given the client's aroused state, Kurt chanced overstepping his boundaries to unbutton his shirt, parting the top two buttons easily and sighing his pleasure at the fresh expanse of flesh bared there. He wanted to kiss, to touch, to explore, and felt a renewed frustration that he wasn't allowed any of those things. They weren't two men indulging in mutual attraction no matter how much Kurt found himself wishing that they were.

God knew that if it was a real date, Kurt wouldn't be wearing uncomfortable boots taller than was at all reasonable or a vest that could have been a reject from a Village People video - no matter how good either article of clothing happened to look against his pale skin. Realizing he had absolutely no idea who the man was, Kurt took a chance. "What can I call you?" Clients rarely gave him their real names, but that was fine. He understood. None of them had ever heard his either.

"Blaine," he replied without thinking twice about it. He was out and proud and didn't care one jot if someone from his father's company happened to spot him going in or leaving the club. It wasn't every day that he encountered someone as alluring as the dancer writhing provacatively in his lap. He leaned forward, unable to resist the temptation of kissing that smooth, sleek neck. Not only did the dancer feel wonderful against him, but he also tasted delicious. Blaine groaned, his tongue sweeping over the graceful curve of the other man's throat. "What about you? I didn't catch your name..."

Kurt's breath hitched, his hips stuttering as the man's tongue dragged along his neck. He knew that he was playing a dangerous, stupid game. He probably shouldn't have even gone over to the man. He was too beautiful, too sexy, and Kurt knew better than to get attached. He did. He knew that as badly as he ached to hear his name in that same dark whisper, he forced himself to reply instead, "They call me Porcelain." It killed him to lie, to give a name that was only his a few hours a night, but he owed Cameron at least this much. His twin deserved a chance to find fame with no shame attached to his name. The least he could do was hide himself properly until he could be someone that wouldn't embarrass his family. Difficult as it was, Kurt found his rhythm again and began to move against the man - //Blaine// - once again. "Is the dance all you want, Blaine?" he whispered, unable to resist the urge to see how the word sounded on his lips.

//Porcelain...// It was an apt description for the dancer; he was undeniably flawless. Blaine visibly shivered, loving how his name rolled off Porcelain's tongue. Those wondrous hips were moving again, driving him into a state of wild arousal. Not since he was a teenager had his cock throbbed with such aching desire. Blaine's hunger for the seductive dancer grew to the point where he feared he might go off like a rocket at any moment. Was he going out his mind? He wanted more than a dance, much more, and he was willing to hand over his gold card if it meant ravishing Porcelain within an inch of his life. "Can I kiss you? Kiss you all over?" he asked, breathless and husky with need. "I don't care what it costs... Please?"

That was most definitely not what Kurt had expected. He froze for a second, surprise overtaking the usual seductive mask he wore for such encounters. "Y-yes," he managed in a voice that wasn't quite as confident as before. A definite blush colored Kurt's cheeks as he drew back to look down at the man and read the genuine desire in his dark eyes. He ached with a sudden overwhelming desire for them to turn time back so that they could meet somewhere else, somehow else. //Too late.// Kurt let the pain flare and fade as his arms closed around Blaine's neck. "You can do anything you want." It was an offer he never made. Ever. There were always careful rules, careful steps that Kurt made clients go through. He couldn't bring himself to do those things when he was so turned on himself. He wanted Blaine to do anything and everything to him. //This is all a very, very bad idea.//

Overwhelmed by the mutual desire they felt for one another, Blaine drew Porcelain into a long, sensual kiss of discovery. If he thought the dancer's throat was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, Blaine was completely unprepared for the deliciously warm, silky mouth. He licked his way inside, tangling their tongues together in a dance that rivaled Porcelain's heated strip routine. Then Blaine very slowly unbuttoned the dancer's vest and let it fall away. His fingers caressed the other man's bare chest, closing on nipples which hardened sharply beneath his touch. After thoroughly devouring Porcelain's lips, Blaine's fervent kisses trailed back down his graceful neck and journeyed ever downward, taking one plump nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

He'd never let a client kiss him. Not once. The intimacy of the gesture was enough to make Kurt weak in the knees, and he was totally breathless by the time Blaine's lips closed around his nipple. His fingers were fisted in the man's hair before he could consider that hair pulling might not exactly be the smartest way to make his client happy. He was painfully aware of the lines blurring until he felt a genuine thrill of fear. He liked this too much. For whatever reason, shallow and physical as it was, he liked Blaine too much, and that was most definitely a problem because the man would get what he wanted and then disappear like everyone else, and Kurt wasn't sure he could shake off missing something that felt this good. He bit his lip to keep from asking Blaine to stop, making some excuse about how he had to go. Kurt swallowed the protests and rocked his hips instead, hating himself just a little for it.

Lifting him effortlessly, Blaine groaned at the loss of contact as he stretched the man out before him on the sofa. "I want you naked..." His eyes burned. "I want all of you..." He dove back in, kissing his way down Porcelain's smooth, flat stomach and began peeling those scanty black panties away from his body. His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of the dancer's incredible arousal; long and thick, with heavyballs all framed in a light dusting of hair. Wanting to do nothing more than bury his face between Porcelain's legs, Blaine somehow managed to control himself long enough to unzip the dancer's boots and toss them aside. Wearing only thigh-high stockings, Porcelain was a fantasy come to life.

Although he himself was still fully clothed, Blaine lunged on top of Porcelain in an instant. He filled his hands with Porcelain's perfect ass as he devoured that lush mouth, almost unable to control his need for the other man.

It could so easily get out of hand. So quickly. And Kurt wasn't really sure he could stop it anymore, not with Blaine's hands on his ass and the man's lips covering his own and their hips rocking together in an absolutely obscene fashion despite the fact that his client was fully dressed. Finally he broke the kiss with a gasp and drew away enough to reach beneath the couch, fumbling for a second before his hand found the handle of a small basket and tugged it into view. Inside was a candy-colored array of condoms and several different varieties of lube in disposable packages. "Just... um, if we need..." Kurt was blushing, stammering, and he felt like an absolute fool. He was supposed to be the professional. He was being paid, for heaven's sake, and he could barely get a word out without stuttering and looking away. It was ridiculous. And then there was the other hurdle. Usually his rules were clear. He did hand jobs, blow jobs, and that was all. Now Kurt felt as if he was working without a net, and he wondered what to say if Blaine decided that he wanted something a little bit... more?

Blaine glanced down at the basket of goodies, and then smiled at the dancer with understanding glimmering in his ever darkening eyes. "We'll definitely be needing those," he decided, recapturing Porcelain's mouth. Unable to remember the last time he had ever wanted someone with such an all-consuming hunger, Blaine struggled out of his suit without losing contact with the dancer's body for more than a moment. His overheated arousal sprang free at last, and the businessman fairly groaned with relief. Blaine's cock leapt as it brushed against Porcelain's and pleasure skyrocketed through his limbs.

Kurt gasped with the heat of the contact and forgot entirely to be nervous about what came next. Instead his long legs rose to slide around the man's thighs, a move which allowed their cocks to slide together more easily. He knew that he should have been insisting that they both start fumbling with foil packets at this point, but he could barely remember to breathe, let alone worry about something that practical. Wanting someone so utterly was, Kurt decided, absolutely terrible for his health in more ways than one.

It was too perfect. Nothing on Earth had the right to feel this wonderful. He pushed his hand through Porcelain's hair, relishing those silken strands flowing through his fingers. Their bodies melded together shockingly well, each brush of skin-on-skin creating bolts of electric pleasure striking his nerve endings with decisive precision. His warm breath gusted over the dancer's jawline as he kissed a path back along that delicious throat. "I could cum like this," Blaine confessed hotly, "so easily..." Another shuddered gripped him as he rocked their hips together. "But, not yet... not until I've tasted every last inch of you..."

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the man not to leave any marks. It would be bad for business, ruin the pristine skin that seemed to be one of his better selling points. But, then, that would be a little reminder... a little something to hold onto... The thought drew a soft sigh from Kurt as he tipped his head back and gave himself over gladly to whatever Blaine had in mind. "Please," he heard himself whisper. Kurt wondered what he was pleading for and then decided it didn't matter as long as Blaine didn't stop moving until the tight curl of pleasure twisting in his stomach was released.

Loathe to break contact with the dancer's enticing body, Blaine slowly kissed his way down the length of Porcelain's throat and attacked both tempting nipples with his mouth in turn. He sucked and licked and nibbled while his hand reached between the other man's legs and grasped his straining length. Porcelain felt incredibly hard, scorching hot, and utterly right in his hand as Blaine caressed him with languid strokes. He grew increasingly ravenous to taste more and more of the writhing figure beneath him; Blaine moaned softly as his tongue flicked over the dancer's navel, moving ever closer to that wonderful prize. His stormy eyes drank in Porcelain's angelic features as he planted kisses all over the weeping tip of his cock.

Kurt's eyes had fluttered closed as the gorgeous man kissed his way south, but the feeling of those same sweet lips on his cock without any barrier made them fly wide open again. The fact was that most clients seemed to assume that he was riddled with disease - which couldn't have been farther from the truth, of course, since he'd been with very few people and then only with that pretty latex barrier constantly in place. Looking down and seeing Blaine's lips on his skin drew a shaky groan again, and Kurt wondered if he could keep any sort of control at all when his partner was so intoxicating.

Blaine revelled in the potent effect his heated actions had on Porcelain. If it was even possible the dancer's cock tasted more wonderful than the rest of his body, warm and spicy and full of desire. Already glistening pearls formed at the tip and Blaine lavishly drank the fluid down as he slowly swallowed inch after inch of that gorgeous erection down his throat. Although it had been a while since he'd last enjoyed intimacy, and his gag reflex was out of practice, his need for the other man allowed him to take every last bit of Porcelain's impressive cock with ease. Blaine closed his hand over the other man's heaving sac, teasing and caressing while he fed voraciously on that rigid length.

Kurt was pretty sure that he was supposed to be the one driving Blaine crazy. //Maybe he's already crazy. Who the hell pays to make someone else feel good?// Kurt wondered. Then he decided that it really worked in his favor. Why complain when he was already having the best night he'd had... well, ever. Wanting to assure the man that he was indeed grateful for the expressions of desire, Kurt panted, "You have the most amazing mouth, Blaine. You are absolutely amazing." The statement lacked any seductive guile, but it was true. Absolutely true. Kurt had never been so turned on by anyone as he was by a complete stranger in the back room of a sleazy strip club.

Blaine moaned around Porcelain's delicious length, the dancer's words sweeter than honey. "God, your body is so beautiful," he whispered, running his tongue along the stiff shaft. "No wonder men will pay to see it." He feasted on the other man's tightening balls, surprising himself by how aroused it made him to kiss and suck them. He had never known anyone could turn him on this way. Blaine wanted the dancer with a genuine, urgent, desperate lust. He reached for those long legs, sweeping them up and back, and exposing the most glorious ass he had ever laid eyes on. "How much will it cost to let me fuck you?" he breathed in awe. Overcome with a frenzied hunger, he slid between the dancer's thighs and began tonguing his lovely opening passionately.

A thousand thoughts shot through Kurt's mind at the question. They ranged from, "Oh, god, nothing, just fuck me!" to "I would never!" and everywhere in between. Because it was crazy. The very thought of giving himself to someone who didn't even know his name... but GOD it felt good. "I... I don't know," Kurt confessed breathlessly. He could barely think with Blaine's tongue doing such wonderfully dirty things to him. "Never done that... but... we can... talk about that later." He'd said yes. It struck Kurt a moment later that he'd already more or less given permission. He felt a ball of nerves that was fear and want all wrapped up together settle in his stomach. At least he'd confessed that he'd never had sex with a client, but he couldn't help thinking that he should have pointed out that he'd never done it at all.

Although Blaine found it hard to believe no one brought into the back room had given in to the overwhelming temptation of claiming Porcelain's magnificent ass, there was truth in the dancer's words. He glanced up between those quivering thighs, drinking in the expression of pleasure on the man's beautiful face. His tongue burrowed into Porcelain's impossibly sweet opening, probing deeply and indulging in the hottest man he'd ever tasted. //I'll give you anything... everything I own... Just give me this one night...// Blindly reaching for the basket containing a vast selection of lube, he tore one of the packages open and slicked his fingers. "I can't stop watching you," Blaine panted, easing the tip of one digit into that twitching passage with great care. "You're so god damned beautiful."

Kurt was eternally grateful for the dim light in the room hiding the blush that flood his face right up to the tips of his ears. He was fairly certain that the kind of guy who was paid to have sex was not someone who should be blushing. At all. He tensed momentarily at the press of Blaine's finger but forced himself to take a deep breath. Crazy as it was, he found himself trusting that the man would take care of him. The strange man who he barely knew. The strange man who was paying him for sex at a strip club. //I have lost my mind.// Kurt felt panic threatening to take over and looked up, ready to call the whole thing off... until his gaze locked with Blaine's and he found himself staring back instead. //Maybe it's not so bad being crazy after all.//

Blaine's rapidly beating heart lurched at the intense desire he found reflected in the dancer's gorgeous eyes. They both wanted this, they both ached for it. Having thoroughly teased the sensitive flesh of Porcelain's impossibly tight ass with his finger, Blaine finally pushed his digit in as far as it could go. Slowly, carefully, he thrust in and out, working the prostate gland and causing the dancer's cock to ooze even more precum onto his stomach. "So, beautiful," he groaned lustily, "How do you want it?"

It wasn't really all that difficult to relax once the decision was made. Virgin or not, Kurt wasn't exactly unused to ass play. He'd been taking care of his own needs for quite awhile, and once he didn't have to worry about his brothers finding his stash, it had been an obvious choice to purchase a vibrator to add to the collection. "I want to see you," Kurt answered, still blushing but secretly thrilled that he'd been asked at all. It shouldn't have mattered what he wanted, just what Blaine's fantasies were. Those dark eyes could turn a saint into a sinner, and Kurt knew he could keep his cool if he could keep looking up into them.

"You got it," Blaine said, but he waited for a moment, enjoying the heat and tightness of the dancer's passage as it clamped around his probing finger. He struggled out of the rest of his suit with his free hand, allowing the expensive fabric to puddle carelessly on the floor. Then he eagerly shifted his body, pressing his jutting arousal into Porcelain's grasp. A low moan escaped his throat at the welcome touch, and Blaine was soon filling the other man's ass with two wriggling digits.

The touch was perfectly timed because it came just seconds before Kurt lost his ability to keep quiet about how poorly Blaine was treating a really beautiful suit. The fabric was quickly forgotten as he wound his arms around the client's neck instead. His hips rocked back into the touch. This much, at least, was familiar. The only strangeness came from the knowledge that it was someone else fingering him for a change. "You have amazing hands." He'd always liked a guy with nice hands, and Blaine's strong, thick fingers were an absolutely perfect teaser to what was coming. A slight shift from one or the other of them - it didn't really matter - and Kurt felt the perfect jolt that meant Blaine's fingers had found his prostate. "Oh, that... really amazing."

Blaine could not have agreed more. His long, thick more than filled Porcelain's fist, and glistening pearls of anticipation wept from the spongy, bulbous knob as he shuddered with pleasure. Blaine took his time preparing the other man, alternating between shallow, rapid dips of his fingers and deep dives where he crooked his digits and played over the dancer's hyper-sensitive gland. As their heated play continued, he finally he had to force himself away from Porcelain's caress. "You're making me so hot. I don't want to cum yet." He added, "Not until I'm inside you." Blaine leaned forward and planted one more lingering kiss to that luscious mouth.

Kurt's eyes fluttered closed at the thought. He didn't let himself consider the pain or the fear or anything at all except how good it would be when Blaine was finally inside him. He didn't even stop to wonder where that thought came from or when he'd embraced the idea so wholeheartedly. For once Kurt just wanted to feel and experience and damn the consequences. He'd reluctantly given up his grip on Blaine's cock and instead let both arms drape around the man's neck. It added a pleasant feeling of intimacy to the kiss, to the digits playing him like an instrument. "I think... I think maybe... now," he finally breathed against Blaine's kiss-bruised lips.

Blaine could feel Porcelain's tender rosebud blossoming open for him. A few more moments later he had managed to ease three fingers into the dancer and agreed, "Yeah, I think you're ready." Wildly aroused, he snatched at one of the brightly colored packets Porcelain had indicated earlier and tore open a condom. Safely hooding his aching length, Blaine inched his way between the other man's wide and willing legs. He reached under Porclain’s knees, pushing his legs up so the backs of his calves rested against his shoulders and settled himself into position. Taking the utmost care despite his overwhelming hunger, Blaine's cock slowly pierced the quivering entrance.

It was most definitely not like using a vibrator. That was partly due to the fact that Blaine's cock was at least twice the size of anything Kurt had mustered the courage to purchase, and then there was the fact that he wasn't the one controlling the movement. Kurt's breath caught at the intensity of the pressure, and his eyes watered. For a moment he thought he'd have to ask the man to stop, but when he finally remembered to breathe, some of the pain dulled. He continued to breathe deeply and looked up to meet Blaine's gaze. His eyes looked black instead of the warm hazel they'd been a few minutes before, pupils wide with lust. The realization that he'd put that look there sent a thrill through Kurt and did even more to ease his nerves. Blaine wanted him, was seeing him in a way that no other man ever had - certainly none of the men whose hungry eyes watched him every night. Blaine was seeing him closely, clearly, and still wanted him. Kurt clutched at the idea and wrapped its warmth around him as Blaine pressed into him.

"You're shivering," Blaine smiled and whispered. Porcelain was impossibly tight, so incredibly hot that it mystified the businessman how he managed to keep himself in control. He took his time, slow and easy for a good fifteen minutes. The dancer's passage stretched around his girth, allowing him to sink deeper and deeper inside. His whole body trembled with pleasure. Electricity ran up his spine as he felt Porcelain's muscles relaxing. Blaine moved in him so smoothly, that his sheathed length was buried completely before he even realized it had happened. "You're amazing." He reached behind the other man's head to pull their lips back together, kissing him deeply.

Kurt couldn't decide if it felt like it had taken forever or not nearly long enough. He'd come to love the slow slide of Blaine's cock as it eased him open. The patience with which his client operated was damn near saintly. It was also absolutely perfect. It gave him time to get used to the feeling and enjoy languid kisses between. The whole thing was deceptively like they were making love, and Kurt had to remind himself that the man didn't even know his real name. Still, when he realized that Blaine's hips were flush against his own and the man drew him into another embrace, it didn't matter. Kurt's body melted against him, and he moaned into the kiss.

With Porcelain blissfully relaxed and opened for him, Blaine finally gave into the overwhelming need to move his hips. Slowly he retreated, then inched back in again and again, stretching the dancer's ass wider with each thrust. Blaine marveled over how he seemed to swell with each re-entry. "Damn, you feel so good," he stated, his breath gusting over that wondrous mouth.

"S-so do you," Kurt managed in a tremulous whisper. He had never felt anything like it. Jerking off while he fucked himself with a dildo was fun, of course, an extra little something. This was a whole other arena. Kurt threw his head back and moaned as Blaine's cock dragged against his swollen prostate. Already he was trembling on the verge of climax, and he didn't care. It wasn't like Blaine had asked him to hold back. So instead of retreating or begging for a reprieve, Kurt's long legs lifted to help Blaine thrust deeper, and he panted, "Harder... fuck me harder..."

They were, without a doubt, the sweetest, most erotic words Blaine had ever heard breathlessly whispered in his life. "God, baby..." Not needing further incentive, he kicked his thrusts into high gear and truly began to ravage Porcelain's body. "Oh, fuck... yeah, I'm so deep inside of you..." The words escaped his dry throat as he plowed into the dancer; rotating his hips while the fat head of his cock pressed tightly against the absolute end of that grasping canal. If his cock were a hand, then Porcelain's ass was the glove it was made for.

Kurt twisted, a constant ball of motion as they moved together. He had never been good at passive, and this proved no exception. He gave as good as the angle would allow and slammed himself back against Blaine's thick cock until he finally shuddered and cried out. The climax was so sudden he hadn't even gotten a chance to decide whether he wanted to worry over whether or not he should give some warning or not. Instead Kurt gave in and rode the wave of sensation as his hips lost all sense of rhythm, his cock pulsed jets of white across his own pale stomach, and his ass clenched desperately around Blaine. It was without question the most satisfying thing he'd felt in his entire life.

Nothing in the world could have possibly compared to the beautiful moment when Porcelain came. He groaned as he felt Porcelain convulsing madly around him, and as he shoved his swollen length deep into him again as a colossal spasm crashed into Blaine. He arched his back, dug his toes into the sofa and lunged into the dancer again, pumping what seemed like a gallon of molten pleasure into the latex wrapped around his overheated cock. As he continued to gush, he sealed his mouth firmly against Porcelain’s, muffling his cries of ecstasy.

Kurt hated the condom in that moment. He wished he could feel more, feel every last drop, but he satisfied himself by kissing Blaine as if the kiss were a proper substitute for air. It really had to be considering he couldn't stop kissing the man long enough to even think of breathing. Finally the tremors began to subside, and Kurt felt his heart sink. They'd be cleaning up soon, Blaine would pay him, and he'd be left to go home alone the same way he did every night. And that wasn't fair, he couldn't help thinking despite it seeming like a petulant, childish reaction. It wasn't fair that he'd just had sex for the first time with someone gorgeous who'd made him feel like the world was on fire, and now he was going to be left behind like it didn't matter at all.

Blaine very nearly passed out from the intensity of his soul wrenching orgasm. Never in his life had he experienced anything as powerful as what he had just shared with this impossibly beautiful creature. He gazed down at Porcelain's flushed and sweaty face with awe gleaming in his dazed eyes. "How are you even real?" Blaine whispered, pushing a hand through the dancer's warm, damp hair. Without missing a beat, his panting mouth descended on Porcelain's heaving chest, lapping at the delicious fluid marring his flawless skin.

Kurt gasped again and tangled his fingers into Blaine's curls, which had become progressively more unruly as they progressed. "I don't... don't feel like I am right now," he confessed. It was like being in a dream, and Kurt didn't want to wake up. He knew that reality would be a slap in the face after feeling so good. "Like anything is." He let his eyes close for just a moment to cement in his mind the feeling of Blaine's tongue on his sweaty, cum-streaked skin. He wanted to feel it again and again, and remembering was likely the only way for that to happen.

Blaine lapped greedily through the glistening evidence of Porcelain's release as if he simply could not get enough of the other man's essence. He moaned softly as he reached the other man's still twitching length, taking the sensitive flesh between his lips and painstakingly sucking him clean. Then he traveled back up the length of the dancer's lean torso, reaching his mouth and kissing him decadently. He drew back after a long moment, gazing deeply into Porcelain's dreamy eyes. "Would I sound like a crazy stalker if I said I'd like to see you again?"

Kurt let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding until that moment. "Yes. No, I mean... no, you wouldn't," he answered with a shaky laugh that was too easy and too natural. He knew that he needed to put the walls up and the mask back on if he was going to have his heart survive, but it was so hard. "I'd love to see you again." Kurt managed to put some of the sultry note back into his voice and was proud of the effort, imperfect though it was. "As soon as possible, actually." If he'd been honest, Kurt would have moaned, "Don't leave," and kissed the other man senseless, but that wouldn't have been the right thing to do - or so he told himself harshly.

Despite appearances to the contrary, something told Blaine that Porcelain did not indulge himself very often. He had no proof of to back up his theory, of course; just a sneaking suspicion. It made the businessman feel all the more special that the dancer had allowed him this moment, whether it was true or not. "I think I've lost my mind," he confessed, smiling against the dancer's delicious mouth. He added, "This isn't a bad thing at all." Blaine didn't want to move, he didn't want to stop touching, kissing Porcelain... If he did, then the dream would end. And this was too perfect to be real. "When's your next gig?" he asked excitedly. "We can get together again then."

"Night after tomorrow. I go on at eleven," Kurt answered without any hesitation at all. He was glad that Blaine had asked for that instead of a visit outside the club in a way. That would have hurt too much somehow, made it seem too real when it wasn't. It was easier to keep the familiar wall of work up. Still, he couldn't resist whispering, "I'll be thinking about you." It was true. Kurt knew that even if it wasn't for the fact that he'd be aching the next day, he would have thought of Blaine's dark eyes, the sweet flashes of smiles, the low groan he'd let out as he came. Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't let this get out of control. His heart couldn't take it. Leaving Cameron had been difficult enough. He couldn’t break his heart that way twice.

Blaine drew back and gazed at the other man in wonderment. "This was the best night of my life," he confessed, combing his fingers through Porcelain's hair. "I mean that." Another chaste kiss, and then he was reluctantly drawing. It almost seemed insulting to offer the dancer money after what they had shared, but they had made a deal. Blaine reached for his wallet and pressed a wad of bills amounting to several thousand dollars into Porcelain's hand. "You're worth far more than this."

Kurt felt the sting of tears and forced a smile just the same. "I have to do something." He could tell without even counting it that there was more money in his hand than he usually made in several months. It stung to take money in exchange for something he'd always wanted to have be special, important. //What the hell did I just do?// Hoping he could keep himself together at least until the man made his exit, Kurt slipped the money into the top of his stocking and stood to steal another quick kiss. It was sweet if short, and Kurt chose to think about that for the moment instead of the mistake he'd made in letting himself get so invested. "We all have our place in life." //I just never thought this would be mine.//

Blaine slowly redressed, his eyes drinking in every last bit of Porcelain before they had to say goodbye. He memorized that beautiful face, gorgeous eyes, and flawless skin; //Oh yes, I'll be thinking about you too.// He caught the pain in the dancer's eyes, and sighed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he insisted, pulling the man close again. "I only meant that I would gladly give you every cent I own to spend even one more night with you." Blaine couldn't help letting his hands roam up and down Porcelain's sleek back, the feel of him too wonderful to pass up experiencing again.

Kurt found himself blinking back tears but couldn't resist pressing himself close to Blaine and wrapping his arms around the other man's waist. He felt so good, smelled good. //Why did I have to meet you like this?// He wondered if Blaine would have noticed him if they'd gone to the same coffee shop or locked eyes across a supermarket instead. Probably not. No one else ever had. "I hope you mean that," he whispered earnestly, "because I'll be very disappointed if you don't come back." Though the words were spoken lightly, almost teasingly, Kurt meant them. He meant more than that, really. He knew that if Blaine didn't show up in the sea of faces again, he'd be devastated.

"Don't worry." Their bodies melded perfectly. It felt shockingly good, as if he and the dancer were meant to fit together, which was an insanely crazy notion to entertain. The entire evening had been a wild uproar of madness, so why should this wonderful feeling be any different? "I wouldn't miss seeing you again for the world." Another tender kiss to those wonderful soft lips and Blaine reluctantly took his leave of the alluring dancer who had captured his heart. As Blaine reached his Mercedes and eased into the driver's seat, he chided himself for not finding out Porcelain's real name, or offering him his number. //There's always next time,// he told himself. With that warm thought in mind, he set off for home.

That night, Kurt could barely find the motivation to dress and get himself back "home." When he did, he found himself equally reluctant to shower, to rid himself of the scent of the strange man who he'd let get closer than anyone had before. Instead Kurt curled up under the scratchy sheets and thin comforter and closed his eyes. He might only have memories, but Kurt had always been gifted with a vivid imagination. Somehow he could make that be enough.