Louis in New York E1 | An older model shows me the ropes

Everyone is over the age of 18

Well I hope we all still remember Louis. If not, that's okay - just start at this chapter. If you do want to know more about him, you can read JBL.

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Everyone told me that New York would be cut-throat. I believed them too, but living it is still different from thinking about it. That's especially true if you're trying to break into the modeling industry here. 

My agent set up a casting for an underwear shoot, and I felt the difference as soon as I walked in the room. Not only were there judgment-filled stares scanning me from head to toe, everyone else's clothes looked so much… crisper than mine. 

As I scanned the room, I suddenly understood the saying “big fish in a small pond.” I was used to being one of the guys with a better physique back home. Here, everyone is aesthetic as fuck with their shoulders and traps. 

Everyone in the room is wearing a tight white T-shirt, and I am the only one in a black one. 

Did my agent tell me to wear a white one? Does it even matter if we’re going to take it off anyways to model the underwear? 

I decided to ask anyway since the room looked full enough that I could run back to the apartment and grab a different shirt if needed. Another Latino was sitting in the corner of the room with his headphones on and I decided to approach him. 

“Hey man, just wondering if …”

“YO! Back off! I'm trying to get into the zone here!” His loud response caused the room to fall silent and incited some snickers behind me. 

I felt them all boring their stares into my back. If they hadn't already done their scan on me when I walked in, they sure are doing it now. 

“Sor–” my voice cracks in embarrassment. “Sorry.” 

When I turned to find a seat, I saw a bunch of the guys sneering at me and analyzing my physique again before going back to talking to each other. 

Fuck.

I find an empty chair and sit down, leaning my elbows on my knees and looking down at the floor. 

This was a big fucking mistake, wasn't it? I should've stayed where I was instead of coming to New York. I can’t make it here. 

“Hey sport, keep your head up.” A raspy voice says beside me. “They're like sharks. They can smell fear.” 

I turn my head to see a man sit down next to me. He’s probably the oldest of the group, although I don't think he's past 40. It looks like he dyes his hair black, because I could see a bit of salt and pepper in his stubble. He is extremely built, with each muscle clearly defined in his tight white shirt. 

“Imagine being my age and trying to compete with youngins,” he says with a little wink and a kind smile. “I feel like the dad here sometimes.” 

“My dad wishes he was in your shape.” I smile back at him. It's nice to finally meet someone friendly. “Are we supposed to wear white?” 

“Yeah, your agent might have missed the memo. I've got an extra one, but it might be a little big on you.” His eyes check my body out. 

I accept his offer and quickly change into the white shirt he pulls out of his bag. 

“Louis? Come on in,” a lady at the front of the door says. 

After the casting, I find the older man smoking outside the building. 

“Oh, you want your shirt back?” I start to take it off. 

“No, let's not give everyone a free show here,” he says and stomps out his cigarette. “I'm Scott, by the way. I heard the lady say Louis?” 

“That's right. Thanks so much for the extra shirt. Saved my life.” 

“No problem,” Scott says. “We were all new once. You just got here?” 

“About a week ago,” I started to say.

“It shows. Have you been anywhere yet?” 

“Not really. Just trying to get my bearings here,” I reply honestly.

“Alright kiddo, let's go for a drink. Celebrate your big boy adventure in the Big Apple.” Scott starts to walk off before I agree.

After a couple drinks at the pub, I relax and listen to Scott tell me his stories of modeling in New York. I don't know how much of it is true, but it was nice to hear that someone survived all that drama for so many years.

“And you're going to get laid. My god, you are going to get so much tail you will be sick of it.” Scott raises his glass to me. 

Clink! 

“You bi?” Scott asks me and my brain quickly goes through all the possibilities of what to say.

Ah fuck it, we're in New York. 

“Yeah,” I say while gulping down my drink. 

“Thought so.” He winks at me. 

As we leave the pub and walk down the busy street of tourists, he points to an apartment building. 

“That's me up there. Do you want to come up for another drink?” 

“Sure”

His apartment was classy and clean. There wasn't a lot in it, but it looked comfortable and homey. Compared to my apartment, it felt a lot more safe.

“So you into me?” 

“Huh?” I spin around to watch him take off his white shirt. He's definitely a man who has been working on his physique for years. His pecs are perfectly shaped and the V-shape of his upper body mirrored the smaller V-shape of his obliques. “Damn.” 

“You can touch,” Scott says as he gets closer to me. “You came up here after all. Can I see you?” 

I stand there as the charming older man tugs at the hem of his shirt on me. He's older than anyone I've slept with but… 

Why not? I lift my arms and he pulled the shirt off me. 

“Nice,” Scott says as he feels up my chest. “Not bad for your age. Come on, touch.” His hands hold my wrist and put my hands on his abs. His skin is soft to the touch and I find my fingers traveling naturally up the lines of his abs. 

“I think you're pretty sexy, Louis.” He leans in and I smell his cologne on his neck. I close my eyes and let him kiss me gently, allowing his hands to explore my body. 

My hands moved around his body too, admiring the developed muscle groups on his arms and shoulders while he dug his tongue into my mouth. I felt myself relinquishing control to this more experienced man and letting him take the lead. For the first time all week, I felt relaxed.

“Mmm,” I moan in his mouth as he squeezes my ass. 

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers in my mouth between kisses. Then his hand travels to my groin and squeezes my dick. “Oh wow.” 

My cock flexes in his grip and Scott steps back to look at my face, then back down at my crotch. 

“You're kidding,” he says as he pulls my fly down and sticks his hand in my briefs. 

“Ah!” His hand pulls my dick into a better position to grab. His warm fingers wrap around my hardening shaft now that it's free. “Jesus, kiddo. This is one fucking tool.” 

I smile at him shyly, but someone commenting on my cock size isn’t exactly new to me. He pulls my pants down, and grabs my hard cock with both hands. 

“This is a fucking cock,” Scott says and kisses me again. “Change of plans. You're going to fuck me.”

With that, he takes off his pants and leans over the dining room table. His ass looks as muscular as the rest of him, and I couldn't help but grab it with two hands.

“I haven't had a dick so big in me since my 20s,” he says as he spits in his hand and rubs it on his crack. “Make me remember this one.”