Generational Wealth; Rubbing it in

He stretched lazily on the chaise lounge he owned in his house.

There was an almost beautiful cruelty to wealth disparity. People— normally such fickle creatures— could be convinced to do just about anything for the right price.

Sex, for example. Sure there were sex-workers but that wasn’t quite James’ style. He preferred it when people wanted him because they thought they had a chance. They were hotter when they were desperate.

James sighed and scrunched his hands in the hair of the boy that was blowing him. He was a pretty thing. 5’7, dark curly brown hair and innocent eyes. Amaro, his name was. He was on a scholarship for university but his grades were slipping. It probably wouldn’t last him another year.

James bucked up slightly, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of Amaro’s throat.

“You need this, don’t you?” he asked. It wasn’t dirty talk trying to insinuate that Amaro wanted James’ dick. It was an observation of proximity. Amaro needed James, either for his money or his status. One’s network was their net worth.

“You’ll never have what I have,” James continued, pushing Amaro’s head up and down at a delightfully slow pace.

“All this,” he gestured to the expensive furniture around them, to the high ceiling and works of art adorning the walls, “is the culmination of centuries of legacy. Even if you won the lottery you would only have money. What I have is class.”

He pulled Amaro off his dick. A thin trail of saliva connected the guy’s mouth to the tip still, stretching the moment out.

“Beg,” James ordered.

“Please. Please let me stay with you. Pl-“

The heat that had already been coiling low in James’ guy surged upwards, a white-hot jolt of pleasure racing up his spine and behind his eyes as his cock throbbed out an orgasm. His spend shot over Amaro’s features, a thick glob of it landing on his eyelid and forcing it to close lest it accidentally spill over.

James breathed heavily. God he loved being rich.