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© All characters and storylines involving said characters belong to me: Eben Black.

"Oh fuck! Yes! Yes!" the equine stud hunched over me, his meat pounding into me. The sound of a wet, lubricated hole being assaulted again and again. His hung balls slapped mine as his hands squeezed my sides and held me in place. His well-endowed, equine meat sent shudders of pleasure and mixed pain up and down my spine as I leaned against the bed, paws balled in the bed sheets. His hips were a blur of speed as he pounded me, pounded as hard and as deep as his cock could allow him. I'd spilled my load twice during this brutal assault. As far as clients went, this was one of the best when it came to anal stimulation. He groaned as his balls tensed and a moment later thick horse spunk spilled inside me. He yanked himself from inside me and his load spilled from inside me and spattered the bed sheets. "Mmmmmm, much better!" he growled as he leaned in and kissed me.

"Glad you thought so." I grinned up at the muscular equine.

"My wife never lets me go as deep as that. That felt amazing," the stallion breathed as his muscular chest rose and fell. He sat down on the edge of the bed while I crawled from the bed and knew I'd need a shower.

"You stay with your wife, even though she doesn't satisfy you in bed?"

"You make me sound so unnatural. I have a child with her, so yeah, I'm sticking around." He smirked and pulled me closer with one of those large hands. I stood between his parted knees, his large hands groped and squeezed the mounds of my ass as he kissed and licked along my stomach. It was morning, sunlight splintered through the blinds of that hotel room. He'd told his wife he'd been at a conference last night. The remnants of his suit littered that room. It was as if the moment we hit the door, our clothes had exploded from our bodies and we'd fucked then and there. He'd spent the night. Some clients stayed the night, fucked, cuddled, kissed, all that romantic shit, some of them would break into the room, fuck me, dump their load, and then leave without another word. After payment of course. This horse was a romantic. That much was certain, but his romance was for the scenario, not me. He'd married his wife, had a child, and loved them. It was just his needs and desires in bed that weren't fulfilled.

He'd live with his family, love his wife and child, then once a month ask to see me and get rid of all the pent-up sexual frustrations in one rush of spunk and stimulation. I didn't even know his name.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked, as he cuddled against me. His dark brown mane damp with sweat.

I trailed paws along his broad, muscular shoulders and replied, "Three hundred."

He reached down, while still cuddled against me and pulled his wallet from his trouser pocket. He peered inside and handed me the three hundred bones he owed me. He grinned up at me and stood.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"You want more than a once-a-month deal?" I replied, with surprised eyes. He nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

"Two weeks from now?" he suggested with an almost ashamed expression.

I smirked and said, "I'll see what I can do." I stepped from the towering adonis and padded toward the denim three-quarter-lengths that were draped over the hotel room's couch. I found my own wallet and slipped the money in. I was a hustler. There was no pleasant way of describing what I did for a living. I fucked furs for money. Not the kind of part-time job you'd expect a college student to be doing, but the money was good and it involved all the good things that life had to offer. Sex. Companionship. One or the other was fine with me. Was it an addiction? I doubted that. I just did what I liked doing.

"Fabian? I need to make a move. My daughter's performing later today. Piano recital," the horse explained as he wiped his limp member down with the tissues beside the bed.

Fabian was the name that my boss had asked me to use when working.

My real name was Samuel. Sam for short. I smiled and looked over my shoulder. "That's fine with me. Gimme a text when you wanna hook up again and I'll sort out a date," I replied as I crossed the room and stepped inside the bathroom. I heard him leave and close the door behind him. I was alone. Good. I needed a wash. I turned on the hot water, and tested the temperature. When I was happy I stepped under and let the heat wash over me. I shuddered as that equine load inside me spilled out and down the drain. I frequented this hotel alot with clients like the stallion. The staff knew what I did, but I think that as long as they got paid for renting out a room, it didn't matter what was going down in the rooms. People rented rooms out all the time just to fuck in.

The only difference being that I charged the people I fucked. Regardless of how long they stayed.

I let the water rush down the sweat covered fur. I smiled at a job well done and the immense relaxation that flowed over me. I'm not the tallest of my species, standing at five foot five, I'm one of the smallest wolves I've ever met or seen. I was slender, and toned, thanks to the swimming I did routinely. I was a student and a hustler, but I also liked to keep fit. For myself and for my clientelle. I had sleak, pale grey fur, the chest and belly fur a lighter grey. I had a long tail, almost unnaturally long for a wolf to have. I had pale amber eyes, a pierced tongue done in silver and a tattoo on my right butt cheek. The tattoo was a small, black paw-print. It amused the Hell out of some of my clients. Others didn't seem to notice, so long as they could pound it, who cared what it looked like?

I washed my head fur, which was getting a little too long for my tastes, and let the warm water wash away the lavender-smelling suds of the shampoo I'd used. I felt refreshed, clean and prepped for the rest of the day. I turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a big, fluffy white towel from the towel rack as I walked. I rubbed it across my head fur as I padded to the sink. I draped the towel over my shoulders, and brushed my teeth. I spat and swilled before rubbing the towel over my damp body. I padded into the bedroom and dressed. A pair of denim three-quarter-lengths, white running shoes, a pale blue tank top and a black hooded shirt, sleeves rolled back and the shirt unzipped and hanging around me. The summer heat could be felt pressing around the bedroom. I packed everything up and padded from the hotel room. I had a paper to hand in and I had to speak with the boss too.

---

Professor Harlan. He was a very intelligent man, who worked on campus as a student advisor, councillor and historian. He was also one of my oldest clients. I'd been in business since I'd turned eighteen. I'd been working for three years, and in that time Harlan had been one of my favourite clients. He was neither married, nor seeing someone. He was in his mid-thirties, muscular, a true athlete at the weekends, and amazing in bed. I found him alone at that lecture hall desk. He was marking something. Glasses perched on top of that doberman muzzle. His shirt unbuttoned at the neck, showing a little black-and-orange chest fur. His chocolate brown eyes gazed over the paper before him as he marked something, or scribbled something in red ink. His slacks were a brown that rivalled the delicious shade of his eyes, they were loose around those muscular legs, but tight where it mattered. The stallion may have won where endowment mattered, but Harlan was still impressive for a doberman.

"Looks like someone's fucked up on getting a good grade from you," I said as I padded down the steps that overlooked the front of the hall.

Harlan looked up and smiled. A warm, pleasant smile. "Ah, I wondered when you would show up. Here to turn in your assignment?" he asked in that deep, mature voice.

I shuddered, knowing what that voice sounded like in the heat of sex. "Yeah, I figured I'd better hand it in before you failed me."

"You know I would never do that, unless you deserved it," Harlan said as he placed his pen down and stood up. He towered over me at six foot two. In his student years he'd been a jock, a proper, muscular, meat-head. But before long he discovered his passion for things that had happened a long time ago. He studied hard, educated himself and became a Historian. He worked out though, and maintained that muscular form.

I figured it was his way of preserving some memento from his days as a quarter-back.

He walked around the desk and leaned that full, bubble butt against the edge of the wooden table as he crossed his arms under those impressive pectorals and grinned at me.

"Here's the paper you wanted on John Marshall." I handed him the paperwork and watched him smile. My real passion in education was photography. I'd took the History lectures because of Harlan. Strange, but true.

"That's alot of paperwork, considering you don't have any real passion for this subject," he replied as he flicked through the thick paperwork and then placed it on the desk.

"There's a passion here, Professor. Just not for the subject."

Harlan grinned and stood up straight. He looked down at me from inches away and asked, "And what does that mean?"

I smirked back and closed the gap between us. I touched a hand to his muscular forearm and stroked the short, trimmed fur there.

"Ah, I think I understand," he growled low as he leaned down and kissed me. The kiss was tender, a chaste brush of warm flesh on flesh. He broke the kiss and shuddered.

"Feels good, don't it?" I asked in a low whisper.

He buried his paw in his pockets and handed me a set of keys. "Lock the doors up there, and I'll handle this one." He nodded to the lecture hall door on the lower level.

I grinned and raced up the steps. I locked the doors quick and turned to find Harlan climbing the steps.

I met him halfway and kissed him again, kissed him hard and deep. Our tongues caressed and stroked one another, explored one another as Harlan lifted me. He held me by the mounds of my ass and turned us. He lay me down on the smooth, wooden benches that overlooked the front of the hall. He spread my legs wide with his muscular form as he slipped the shirt off and flexed all that black-and-orange furred muscle. He leaned down over me, paws gripped the sides of the bench as our muzzles connected, and moulded together. I ran paws through his head fur, feeling the naked, throbbing doberman dick inside his trousers. He undid his belt one-handed, while his other paw wretched my head back, as he licked and nipped along my neck. He could be so rough and animalistic when he wanted to be. He let the trousers fall and bundle at his ankles, he wore no underwear like me. I pushed him back as I undid my own three-quarter-lengths and let them fall off. He pushed up my tank top as he licked and lapped across my naked chest. Seeing all that dark fur pressed against my lighter shade, sent shivers down my spine. He held my thighs in his paws as he held them up, my knees almost touching my stomach. I shuddered as his red hot cock tip pressed against me. His knot was already forming. That sheer massive length looked too impressive, and as his knot throbbed, it made me wish we were alone in that hotel room. He could have tied me and we could have enjoyed the sheer pleasure of us being wedded together.

He pushed and in mere moments found that sweet spot deep inside me. He worked his cock inside me, long, slow strokes while he gazed down at me, his tongue lolled out of his muzzles as his eyes darkened with heat and lust. I whimpered and moaned with pain and pleasure. God it felt amazing.

"Fuck, how is it your always so fucking tight considering what you do?" Harlan growled.

"I'm not tight, baby! Your just so big!" I whimpered back as I ran paws over his muscular forearms.

When he had worked enough of himself inside me, and knew I could handle it, he began seriously pounding me, his hips worked deep and fast, rolling them every other stroke, causing that cock to smooth over that sweet spot. It was like I'd been sent to Heaven and impaled on an angel himself. Except this angel was dark and looking at me with such heat burning in those chocolate eyes. He thrust deeper, harder, his strokes become less smooth, ragged. I could feel my own orgasm building. Harlan didn't always bring me to orgasm with anal, but when he did it felt truly wondrous. He smashed himself into me, his paws gripped my sides for leverage as he pulled me into his thrusts. I knew how rough Harlan liked it, he liked biting and scratching and passionate explosions. He drove that red member inside me again and again, his pre spilling across my insides, lubricating me, making me slick and easier to hit and impale.

"Oh shit, that feels so fucking good, Sam!" he growled.

His balls slapped me with each penetrating slam of his hips. God he was driving me insane! I needed him to spill that load now!

I howled out as my orgasm hit, and red hot seed spilled up across my stomach and chest. I shuddered as my orgasm smashed over me and left me shuddering. Harlan gazed down at the spooge that decorated my torso now, and growled deep as his own rode him. He plunged deep, as deep as he could go without tying me, and a moment later a thick, hot mess spilled inside me, spattered the walls of my insides and left me feeling warm and full. He sank and leaned over me, his chest rising and falling as he panted and grinned down at me. He smirked, a dark look crossed those dark brown eyes and without warning he slowly dragged himself out of me. I groaned as I shuddered at the sensations that rode me.

"F-Fuck, that was so good," he panted as he gazed down at me.

I leaned on my elbows and grinned back. "Your one to talk. That was fun," I giggled.

He straightened up and pulled up his trousers, fastening them and belting them in place. I sat up and hopped from the bench. I was working hard at keeping his load inside me. I yanked up my own three-quarters, but had mess in my chest fur. Harlan smiled and leaned down, he trailed his thick tongue over my chest and stomach, lapping up the delicious spunk and growling deep in his chest as he worked away. I shuddered and whimpered with pleasure as he suckled on one of my nipples and then popped me from his muzzle. He straightened up again and I hugged him, I cuddled against that muscular flesh and leaned up, kissing him, tasting the seed on his tongue.

I pushed down the tank top and smirked up at the doberman.

"So what do you intend to do with the rest of your day?" Harlan asked as he trailed paws up my forearms gently.

"I need to see Sebastian later on about something," I explained with a gentle smile.

"Your pimp?" he replied. I frowned and he held up his hands, grinning. "I know you hate that term, but he is essentially your pimp, Sam."

"More a partner, than a pimp. He arranges the meets and introduces me to clients, but the divide in cash is more favourable for me than him, that's the difference," I explained.

"He's a rich businessman, Sam, its no surprise he doesn't need the cash," Harlan added.

He was right, Sebastian was a high-rising businessman. He owned some of the raunchiest strip clubs downtown, and had a sideline in prostitution. He wanted the smaller percentage of the cash we earned. It was spending money I believed, not a proper profit. One hundred of the three hundred I'd earned would go into Sebastian's pocket. Not a bad deal for a student. He made the work optional too. You'd be surprised how many college students worked as his hustlers. I was one of the youngest, but I did know younger hustlers out there. Sebastian had taken me in when my parents had kicked me out. They were homophobes and devote Christians. Having a gay son didn't matter, so long as the big man upstairs knew they hated it. I left and never looked back. Sebastian found me sleeping on the street, took me in, gave me a purpose and a job. That was three years ago.

I'd not turned back since I'd met Sebastian, and I was happy and content with that.

"So what do you need to see him about. Summer breaks almost here. Need more work?" he grinned as he spoke and cuddled me closer, that naked torso damp with sweat and the smell of sexual frustration.

"You offering up your services and cash?" I smirked back as I spoke.

Harlan shrugged and added, "I wouldn't mind spending time in that ass of yours for a night or two over the summer."

I grinned and licked his nose, "I'll hold you to do."

"Please do," he breathed back as he leaned down and kissed me again. He broke the kiss and grinned, "You need to leave before I spend my lecture period fucking your brains out."

"Doesn't sound so bad," I replied.

"Except that I'll loose my job?"

"Fair point. Alright. I have lap-times anyhow. I'll shower, swim and then go see Sebastian later on." I kissed him again, a quick, chaste brush of lips and left with a broad smile. I unlocked the door and left the keys in the door. While I closed the door behind me, I glanced back and found Harlan padding down the steps to his desk, pulling on his shirt as he went. He looked back and we shared one more gentle smile before the door closed and I was walking at a quick pace for the gymnasium.

Did I like Harlan? Yeah. He was an old friend, companion and lover. He was also a client, and like today, sometimes got a freebie.

Did I love Harlan? No. No, that would have complicated things. Love always complicated things. Being close friends with benefits and income was much better than a true relationship.

---

I stood at the diving board. Dressed in boxer-brief-esque trunks. Tight and done in a pale orange colour to match the gentle amber of my eyes. I knew I looked killer in the trunks and liked that fact. I bent my knees a little, paws a tense, mottled pale as I gripped the edge of the board. I gazed down at the surreal, clear pool beneath me. I was at the highest point. I took a deep breath and leaned forward, letting momentum and gravity pull me down. I was in midair one moment, straight, paws extended and braced for the impact, tail sleaked back behind me. I was dry one moment, and then soaked, breaking the surface of the glacial water and sinking beneath deeper and deeper as the world around me rushed passed. I was a good distance from the floor of the pool, but loved this feeling. I turned and gazed up, the water cushioned me and surrounded me as I smiled wide and floated there, the poolhouse's rooftop was done in glass. The sun shimmered its warmth and light across the surface of the pool, while the cool liquid around me cooled me and relaxed me.

Breath was leaving me quick. I straightened up and pushed hard. I soared back up and broke the surface in a flourish of fur and froth. I wiped the fur from my eyes and gazed around the poolhouse. Swimming was one of the few educational lessons that were open-doored. It meant that you could walk in, get dressed and use the pool. There were two pools, a diving one and a lap-time one. The lap-time one was slender and longer, stretching the length of the poolhouse. I could see the swimming instructor of the campus swimming squadron calling out encouragement to one of the students busting his ass to complete a decent lap-time. I swam backwards until I gently bumped the side of the pool. I reached up and hauled myself out. I sat on the edge, leaned back on my elbows and watched the swimmer complete his lap.

I heard the instructor call, "Good work, Marshal!"

I watched as the swimmer climbed from the pool. He was tall, broad-shouldered, slender-waisted and muscular, toned thanks to the sport he'd chosen. The white lion stood at six foot dead. He had long head fur, not a full mane I realised. He was young, around my age then. Lions tended to grow their manes around their late-twenties from what I'd seen from lion clients. He looked around his early-twenties. His head fur was a slightly darker cream colour, his eyes were an ethereal, pale blue colour, the kind of blue you saw in the frozen wastelands during those cool daytimes. His tail swung thick behind him. Pale-blue shorts graced his strong, muscular upper thighs as he towelled off. He looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. When did this campus start getting so many adonis'? First Harlan and now this feline? He rubbed the towel over his head fur, his stomach muscles stretched and strained as he yanked the towel down and glanced over at me. His pale-blue gaze met mine and for a second the whole world seemed to stop.

He smiled, a graceful curve of lips, before he turned and headed for the changing rooms.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding for some bemusing reason. I shuddered and stood, I needed a cold shower now.

---

The water ran over me in a cool, lukewarm wash. I growled and then relaxed as the temperature heated a little and felt more comfortable to stand under. The showers were open-planned, no cubicles to seperate all the muscle. In some distant time, I imagined the person who'd designed these shower cubicles had been a fantasising homosexual of some kind. Envisioning the possibilities that joint showers would have. Surprisingly, that wasn't the case. I was a well known homo around campus, and some furs even knew what I did for work. But no one ever questioned me, and those who spoke to me were polite and understanding. Unkind words had been spoken before, but the time of bullies and taunting stopped with high school. College students seemed to believe that whatever one fur did outside of campus was that fur's business. Don't ask, don't acknowledge. Sounded like the same kind of motto that a certain pair of wolves had lived by when handling their gay son.

Then again, perhaps I spoke too soon about the bullies.

I washed and turned the shower off. I shook and felt refreshed and better. I had no more lessons, so I'd be seeing Sebastian in a matter of hours. I draped my towel over my shoulders and padded from the showers. I strolled to my locker and entered the combination. I ran the towel over my head fur once more and then draped it over the opened locker door. I pulled out my denim three-quarter-lengths and slipped into them, belting them into place. I had a hand stretched out for the tank top when someone shoved me. I slammed against the metal lockers and felt a little dazed. I turned, dizzy from the impact of the metal locker, and looked behind me. There stood two panthers, a jet black one standing at six foot three, broad-shouldered and muscular all over. His lavender eyes screamed with untold rage and frustration as he glared down at me. He was dressed in a pair of boxers and nothing more. I knew a fighter when I saw one. His name was Xander and he was a member of the boxing club. The other panther was shorter, standing at six foot one, he was the same build, his fur a lighter shade of black, white markings graced his tail as his dark blue eyes stared at me. A fine tension ran through him, another frustrated and angry feline looming over me.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" I asked with a pleasant smile.

"Your that faggot-whore, Sam, right?" Xander demanded.

"What's it to you if I am a faggot-whore?"

"I heard you've been doing some business on the side too, prostitution and that?"

"Like I said, what of it?" I asked.

"Nothing wrong with being a pussy-boy. Just wondered if we could get some freebies," the other panther growled. He groped himself through his shorts as he spoke.

"Freebies? Not about to happen, lads. You want business boys, then speak to Sebastian DuKane." I grabbed my bag and tank top, and closed the locker door. I made to step out from in front of the locker. I was stopped by a paw as it slammed against the locker, blocking me from moving further. I frowned at the extended arm and looked at Xander as he loomed over me. His smaller friend came in behind me. "I told you. I don't do freebies!" I growled.

"Got a bit of an attitude there, ain't ya?" Xander sneered as he leaned closer, "Are you worried I'll be too big for you to handle?"

I raised eyebrows at the black feline and grinned, "Somethings tells me I've had bigger."

Xander laughed, a deep, rough sound from his throat.

"You got a smart-mouth for a cock-sucker! Might need to shove something in there and shut you up!" the other panther snarled with a grin, baring his fangs.

"You boys are sounding like a lot of fun, but I have to be somewhere. Like I said, speak with Sebastian and maybe we'll get to play sometime, for a nice fee," I added.

"Doesn't sound like he's understanding what we're after here, Raul!"

"No. It doesn't. Lets make him understand," the panther named Raul growled.

He grabbed me, his paws fastened around my fists as his foot connected with the back of my knee and made it buckle. I landed on one knee and whimpered with pain from the tiled floor hitting my bare kneecap. I growled and I fought against the strength of Raul as he held me in place, arms stretched back. I tensed and watched as Xander stepped up in front of me. He was groping and caressing his groin, he was pressing hard against the boxers, he was an impressive size, judging on the size of his bulge. I growled, not wanting it. As perfect and big as Xander thought he was, he was forcing me, and rape wasn't for me! Xander peeled those boxers off and stood proud in front of me. His length hard and throbbing in front of me. He stepped out of the boxers and tossed them aside. I glanced around the locker room. No one. No one was here.

I considered shouting for help, but I had a feeling once I shouted then I'd have a mouthful of Xander.

"Impressed?" Xander growled as he looked down at me.

"Not a bad length, but if you think that bitch-dick is gonna make me moan, your dreamin'!" I grinned back up.

"Hooker's got a mouth, alright," Xander smirked over at Raul, he looked down at me and gripped his member in his paw. He growled, "Suck it...now!"

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join in!" a deep, rich voice called from down the other end of the locker room.

I looked up, and found the white lion from earlier. He was dressed in a pair of white-washed, denim jeans, white running shoes and a pale yellow fitted tee that had a low v-neck and showed his fluffy chest fur. Although his mane wasn't fully grown, his head fur was still long, and bound in a slender braid that cascaded down behind him. Rebellious strands spilled in front of those pale-blue eyes as he watched us all. Raul shoved me hard and I dropped hard. I hit the tiled floor and met the lion's eyes once again.

"Yeah, this is a private party!" Raul growled.

"I suggest you leave, pussycat," Xander added as he padded around me and stepped up beside the smaller feline.

The lion ignored them and called, "Hey, wolf! You alright?"

Xander and Raul didn't like that.

I nodded.

"Doesn't look like your alright? You need any help?" he asked in that rich tone.

"Your ignoring us now!" Raul growled.

The lion considered them and grinned. "I'm not ignoring you. Just talking to the one that matters the most right now," he replied.

Xander flexed and grinned. "We don't matter?"

The lion smiled and said, "No. No you don't matter right now."

"Wrong answer!" Raul snarled. He dropped low and rushed the lion without warning.

He stayed low and crossed the locker room in quick strides. He was in front of the lion in seconds. He reared back a clenched fist and swung forward. There was a sound of flesh on flesh. A loud clash. I was stunned and thought a blow had been landed on the lion's abdomen. But after looking a second time I found the lion's palm blocking the panther's fist, he wrapped his fingers around that fist and yanked the panther aside roughly. He took a step toward the feline and swung a knee up. He smashed it into the panther's chest and released him. Raul spilled backward in a flourish of pain. He sprawled across the tiled floor, he was winded as he clung to his chest and tried to relearn how to breathe.

Xander was gone. He crossed the room and skidded to a halt in front of the lion, his fist was held back as he thrust it forward, aiming for the lion's face. The lion dropped and sidestepped under that extended arm. He grabbed it in one paw and used his other paw to grip the shoulder. He turned and pulled, the momentum carried the larger feline and a moment later the panther clashed into the lockers. He slumped to the tiled floor, his shoulder had hit the locker hard. It may not be broken or dislocated, but it was a close shave. Xander growled and winced in pain as he looked up at the lion.

"You need to leave, now!" the lion growled.

"You'll be expelled for this," Raul sneered as he took deep breaths in between words.

"I can't be expelled if I was defending myself," the lion said as he looked over at me. He winked and added, "Right?"

I grinned and nodded.

Raul staggered to his foot paws and Xander followed suit, cradling that bruised shoulder as they went. The lion smiled and turned. He walked down the locker room to me as I stood up. "You alright?" he asked as he held a paw out for me. I took it and let him stand me up. He pulled too hard and I collapsed against him.

"Y-Yeah," I stammered as I leaned on that broad-chest muscle. He was truly beautiful, there was no doubt.

"I'm Len Marshal. You sure your alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?" he asked from inches away.

I stepped back and felt his fingers linger along mine. I smiled and forced the blush down as I replied, "I'm Sam, just Sam."

"Just Sam?" he repeated.

I nodded.

"No last name?"

I shook my head.

He smiled and added, "I'm glad they never hurt you."

"T-Thanks," I stammered.

"I need to make a move, but I'll see you around, hopefully," Len grinned from ear to ear as he padded backward and then turned with a swish of that tail. He walked out and left me almost stunned. Seriously when had college let such beautiful males wander around? And how had I missed them?

I got dressed and headed off. I needed to speak with Sebastian? Why? No particular reason. I needed more work over the summer, and since he was the one who handled the details of clients, he was the one to speak to.