A musical prostitute, my dear.

Tings get spicy

Rami was astonished. never before had he gazed upon teeth so arousing. Even the gold-plated prosthetics encased in his bathroom were no match for those in the mouth of this glamorous man. Rami gasped as Freddie twirled his leopard-print boxers in the amorous air and spread his legs for the quivering actor before him.

"Your portrayal of me was scandalous." Freddie scolded. "Time to teach you a lesson."

Rami felt his legs begin to shake, and his teeth begin to chatter. Freddie was a God. This man was powerful. Rami slipped out of his gentle kimono and let it fall to the ground. He leaned into Freddie's tantalising aroma and fabulous jawline. Freddie smirked and wrapped his hairy arms around Rami's frail body, like a big Zanzibarish protector. Rami wiggled, unsure of what to do. Freddie gave a long, lingering AAAYO, so Rami knew he was doing well. sometimes he just needed a little bit of recognition.

Freddie started to move in for the kill, feeling the undeniable connection between himself and Rami at its strongest. This felt right. Better than it had ever felt with anyone before.

"Wait." Rami pulled away from the muscular man, the beginnings of tears glistening in the edges of his hazel eyes. "Don't you have aids?"

Freddie sighed. Of course that would trouble Rami. The man was living in the twenty-first century, for Christ's sake. "I don't know." Freddie admitted shyly. "I kind of forgot about that."

Rami let out a deep breath and flung himself into Freddie's comforting embrace. "Then let's both forget about it. Just for today."

Freddie grinned and flung himself at Rami, growling softly like a homosexual hyena, stalking its gay little prey. Rami giggled and the pair tumbled onto the carpet, locked in each other's limbs.