Painting 1
by triciaqaf
NC-17
Inspired by a plot bunny from paddies
Post season 4, but no spoilers whatsoever for S5
Not much plot either… ;)

Many thanks to plumsuede for reading the first version of this story (which was totally different) and being honest. Hope this one's more true to form, babe! :)

Sorry it’s been so long since I posted. Not dead, just busy in RL and finding the muse MIA. Hopefully she’s back now. Comments, as always, feed the beast… :)

…………………


I can hear him around me, behind me, puttering around the loft. Not that he’d ever call it puttering. Or obsessively making everything just so… No, he’d never admit to that level of anal behaviour. Even though we both know he does it. He just hides it less than he used to before we lived together. This time.

I turn my attention back to the colours in front of me. Try to focus on letting them flow, letting it come. Fuck. Try again. Let it go, Justin… breathe…

When the cramp hits my hand, I watch the brush fall to the floor in slow motion. I can’t help the curse even though I know Brian’s watching me now. Fucking god-damn hand! After this many years you’d think it wouldn’t happen anymore. Wouldn’t bug me anymore either…

I bend down to wipe up the splatters on the hardwood. Can’t have Mr. Obsessive-Compulsive see oil paint on the floors. I know it’s not fair to be mad at him, but fuck! I have to be mad at someone right now. And it left a huge fucking streak of red down the canvas. Fuck.

Suddenly he’s behind me, his warmth and his scent reaching me before I even see him. I feel the muscles in my body start to relax just from his proximity.

“You look fucking hot when you work, you know that?” his voice is soft in my ear, his breath making me shiver a bit. I can feel the anger starting to drain away but I fight it. Fuck it – I want to be mad. I need to be mad right now.

His hands are on my waist, slipping under my shirt to brush the skin of my back. It makes me arch a little, pushing my ass back ‘till I feel him behind me.

“Brian.” I don’t want this right now. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood.” My voice sounds angrier than I feel, but I don’t care.

He doesn’t stop though, doesn’t pull away. His fingers rest softly in the hollow of my lower back. Then one hand comes around to the front of my body, sliding down my arm. I shift a bit, annoyed that he’s touching me, wanting to get away from him.

Wanting to sink back into his arms. But I can’t.

“Brian. Fuck off. I’m working.” His hand keeps moving.

“Let go. What the fuck are you doing?” He’s holding my brush, his hand inside mine.

“Show me.” His lips against my ear make me shudder, even when I don’t want to. Betrayed by my own fucking cock. I can feel his behind me, pressing gently into me. I will not push back into him. I’m working.

“Show you what? That you’re an asshole and you’re bugging me when I’m trying to work?” God, I’m a bitch today. So sue me.

His hand starts to move the brush. I huff, grabbing his hand tighter to stop him.

“How to paint…” he murmurs softly behind me. Now his other hand is moving. Shit. How he can do that is beyond me. I try not to close my eyes but his fingers are in the cleft of my ass, stroking me in that way he knows I can’t ignore. My cock is fully hard now. Crap.

“Don’t patronize me, Brian.” My voice sounds a lot less angry. Asshole.

“Show me what it feels like…” His words go straight to my dick. God, why do I always hate him and love him at the same fucking time? His hips are rocking gently against me. And I’m really trying not to follow them.

Fine.

He wants a painting lesson? Fine.

“Let go, Brian. You’re holding too tight. Loosen your wrist.” I shake his hand a bit, rotating his wrist slightly. “You need it to move the way you want it to feel. Long, slow strokes for flow, for calmness. Short, choppy strokes for speed, for intensity.” I mimic my words with our hands. He’s surprisingly fluid under my grip.

“You don’t have to be exact on the length and the direction of the brush until you’re doing the final strokes for that section of the canvas. You can throw the colour down first, let it go where it wants to. Then neaten it up when you’re happy with the feel of it.”

I’m pulling the brush across the canvas, his longer arm allowing me to reach almost all of it even though he’s behind me. I’ve forgotten about his other hand until I feel warm, smooth skin on my bare back. I try to ignore it but then it rubs against me and I realize it’s the head of his cock. I breathe in, continuing with my lesson.

He appears to be paying total attention to the painting, but I feel his other arm moving behind me, his knuckles brushing against me. I close my eyes for a second. He’s not…

I resist the urge to look, clenching the hand with the brush a bit more, moving it back to the right side of the canvas. I’m talking about underpainting now, weaving an image as a layer, intending to cover it up with another image, or a colour, or a texture. His breath is increasing a tiny bit in my ear. I look at our hands and realize I’m stroking the canvas at the same speed as his hand behind me. Shit. I move the brush to a different spot.

The intakes of his breath are getting louder, the small catch before he releases the air is just about to happen. I can feel my body moving in response to his before I can stop it.

“Brian.” A whisper is all I can get out.

“So hot.” He whispers back. “Tortured artist and art teacher, all rolled into one…”

He’s teasing me, but I laugh anyway. “Didn’t know you had a thing for art teachers. Or tortured artists…”

“Only one.” He still makes my breath stop when he does that. And he does it all the time now.

I feel his hands pushing the back of my pants lower, exposing more skin. Why do I wear pants that are loose enough for him to do this? I feel a small trail of liquid cooling on my skin as he rubs his cock across my ass. Huh. That’s why I wear pants like this. They fall to the ground, pooling around my ankles. I’m going to trip if I move. He doesn’t mind. He likes it when I can’t move.

He also likes it when I don’t wear underwear. I smile as I hear his stuttered breath. I try to turn around but he keeps his hand on the brush, the brush on the canvas. “Keep going…” he says.

New kink – art-sex? Teacher-sex? Whatever… I don’t mind, as long as he keeps rubbing his knuckles over the crack of my ass as he jerks himself off. He knows how much I love it when he jerks himself off in front of me. Or behind me…

I can’t think of anything to say, so I just steer his hand, sweeping the brush over the surface in front of me. It’s a little tricky to pick up more paint from the palette hooked to the side of the easel, but we’re managing. I start to focus on it more, feel it more. It’s weird to guide his hand rather than just using my own, but I’ve got the hang of it now.

He’s so compliant. I wish I could get his hand to be like this when we’re in bed. He can’t help but take the lead there. Not that I mind, but I like being in charge. He lets me do it so rarely. But I like it when he’s in charge too, and he knows it…

He’s making these little noises in my ear, warm, wet noises. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it. Then his cock is pushing lower, his hand guiding it between my legs. He’s rubbing the head lower, making me arch my back, push my hips into him. God.

“Want you…” he whispers, his body pulling away for a moment while he reaches for something.

Then he’s back, his cock slick and cold from the lube. I gasp as it slides into my crack. Still not used to it, no matter how long it’s been since we became monogamous, since we got tested, since the condom box got dusty in the closet.

I’m not moving our hands now, the brush pressing hard into the canvas as we lean against it. Then he pulls our hands back a bit, setting the brush straight.

“Keep painting…” he murmurs.

“Uh…” I try to articulate something more than that but his cock is pressing against my hole.

“Can’t…” I mutter.

“Show me what it feels like…” he whispers. He’s rolling his hips, pushing the head in the tiniest bit on each forward roll.

I want to remind him that he knows full well what it feels like, that he’s had my cock in his ass enough times to know, but I suck in a breath as he pushes further into me. He wiggles his hand in mine, so I try to focus on doing something with it. Don’t really care what.

I watch our hands slide the brush back and forth as he pushes further, my eyes squinting as I try to lean forward more to get his cock at the angle I want it without pressing my face into the paint.

He stops when he’s all the way inside me, our bodies pressed tight. His free arm wraps around my waist, holding me snug to him. “Paint…” he prompts.

I take a breath, letting my body still around him. I start to move our hands but he wiggles the brush again, nudging it into my hand and pulling his own away. I stand there holding the brush, looking over my shoulder at him as much as I can. I hear him. He knows I’m ok now.

“Paint.” He whispers again, his lips hot against my ear. Both of his hands wrap around my hipbones, holding me still. I close my eyes – I know he’s going to fuck me slowly, he’s going to hold me where he wants me and uh… huh… I moan as he starts to move, pleasure lighting up inside me as the head of his cock pushes against the inside of my body.

I make a few half-hearted strokes with the brush, but I can’t focus. I let the brush fall. Fuck the paint splatters this time. I grip the edges of the canvas with my hands, needing to hold onto something.

“You’ll get paint on your hands…” he whispers as he finds a rhythm behind me.

“Fuck it.” I mutter.

He starts to move in earnest, his body finding a familiar speed. I try not to tip the easel over, try to keep my knees from giving out. I’m moaning every time his cock drags past my prostate. I want him to touch my dick now. God.

“Wanna fuck you like this…” he stutters. I love it when his voice sounds like that.

“You… are…” I answer, my words coming in gasps.

“Tied like this…” he grunts as he says it. His foot pushes against mine, shoving it to the leg of the easel. He does the same with the other side, spreading my legs so they’re against the bottom of the easel legs. I moan.

“Would be so hot…” he murmurs as his hand reaches around to my cock. I can only nod. I know I’ll marvel later at how it can still seem titillating and erotic and exciting for him to do this – to talk dirty to me, to restrain me, to take me, no matter how many times we’ve done that.

“Tomorrow…” I whisper. “I’ve gotta paint first…” I hear his laugh as I start to come.

Painting, The Sequel - Part 1
NC-17
It’s a sequel, but doesn’t have much to do with the first one. Mostly just follows from one comment in the first part.

Thanks to plumsuede and msjudi for their feedback and comments on the first draft of this... :)

Toppy!Justin warning… ;)

xxxxx

I hear the elevator coming up, then hear his footsteps in the hall. I feel my cock throb as the grating metal sound of the door announces his arrival.

Before he’s even walked into the room, I’m there, my mouth on his. I need to taste him, to feel him. And distract him.

He laughs softly as I slam into him, but his mouth responds in kind, his tongue pushing against mine as we kiss. God, I love that he always responds when I want to touch him or kiss him. That he can go from casually walking in the door to gripping my hips and kissing me fiercely as his cock pushes upwards between us in three seconds flat. I kiss him harder, moaning my appreciation into his mouth.

He pulls back after a few minutes, eyes narrower and darker now. He leans his forehead against mine. “What was that for?” he grins.

“Missed you…” I answer, leading him by the hand towards the dining room. He follows slowly, not really resisting.

“How’d the painting go today?” he asks, his eyes searching my face but pretending not to.

“Fine.” I smile. More than fine, actually. I was fucking brilliant. And now I’m fucking horny.

I see his eyebrows go up as I hear his laugh. I know what he’s spotted. That’s ok – I wanted him to see them. He walks closer to the table, fingering the thick leather when he stops at its’ edge. He looks up at me, eyes smirking and mouth trying not to smile. “I take it I’m not the only one who liked the idea of tying you to your easel…” he grins again.

I smile back, moving closer to him. I reach my hands out, loosening his tie slowly. I pull it through the collar of his shirt, letting the silk slide over his chest as it falls away from him. Then I reach for the buttons, my hands pulling them open as he smiles at me. He smiles at me a lot these days. He’s not going to soon, though.

Once his shirt is off, I trail my fingers down his chest, stopping briefly at his nipples. He doesn’t moan, but I see the slight stiffening of his posture, the small twitch in his body when I pinch one, then the other.

I inhale deeply as I slide down his body, yanking his belt and fly open impatiently. He leans back against the table as my tongue flicks the ridge of his cock. His hand comes to the back of my head as my mouth opens around him, a small huff of air leaving his lips. I suck him hard right away, making his hips jerk. I glance up and his eyes are closed, his head tipping back.

I keep my mouth moving as I reach behind him, pulling both of the cuffs closer to me. One of his hands is flat on the table, supporting some of his weight as he leans back. The other is still on the back of my head, holding gently.

I up the suction on his cock, a low groan leaving his mouth as he pushes into mine. I shake my head a bit, letting him know I want him to take his hand away. He puts it on the table like the first one, holding his body weight on flat palms.

It takes him a second to realize I’m touching his wrists, but by then I’ve got one cuff done up and I’m grabbing for the second arm. He opens his eyes, looking to see what I’m doing, but the blowjob is making him slow and fuzzy. He pulls his arm away a bit, but I can keep a hold of him and get the second one done up before he’s fully aware.

I hear the laugh and look up at his face, still sucking. I pull off, letting my tongue lap the underside of the head while I’m blinking up at him under my lashes. He’s such a sucker for watching me do this. I feel his body relax again as he swallows heavily and stares. I make it good, licking the head and slowly sucking it into my mouth and letting it out again, the tip of my tongue pressing hard on the sensitive spot below the head. His arms are out in front of him, his sarcastic remark and the intent to undo the cuffs forgotten for a moment as I work his cock with my lips and tongue.

I push his arms gently back to the table as I suck him deep, his hands bracing his body again. I push them closer together behind him, sucking as hard as I can. His breathing is raspy now; I can taste that he’s close.

I click the cuffs together fast, then let his cock pop out of my mouth as he jerks forward, pulling against the restraints keeping his arms behind his back. His eyes get very dangerous, very fast. His cock’s not any softer though…

He doesn’t even say my name, just raises his eyebrow at me. Not in the smirking, teasing kind of way. In the I’m going to give you one last chance kind of way. It makes my cock ache.

When I don’t move, he says my name slowly. Quietly. The desire to tame him is uncontrollable. I can’t stop this now, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t…

He says it again when I don’t respond.

I lick my lips, just staring at him. I see his breath making his nostrils flare a bit as we stare at each other. I’m ready for this.

I push him in the chest, hard. He falls back a bit, sitting back down on the edge of the table. His eyes narrow again, glittering fiercely. I’m so hard I could scream.

I reach my hand to his glistening cock, stroking it roughly as I speak.

“You can’t get out of this, Brian.” He just stares at me. My thumb rubs the underside of the head, making a path to the slit. He’s wet, and it’s not from my mouth. I press hard, my fingers gripping his cock as my thumb moves. He shifts slightly, despite himself.

“You think I’m going to give you this…?” his voice is low, menacing.

I circle my thumb around his slit, opening it as I press down.

“No.” I bring a drop of pre-cum to my mouth, licking it from my thumb as we stare at each other. “I’m going to take it.” I tell him.

He laughs darkly, but we both know I can hear the desire in his voice. I’ll let him pretend, that’s ok. He’s struggling to keep his hips still as I pump his cock. He doesn’t want to move, I know that. But he’s off balance now, not in control.

“Justin, you’re going to undo these cuffs. Right now.” His voice is very low.

I keep stroking him as I talk, but I lean in close to his face, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Brian.” I lick his mouth, and he jerks his head back, pulling away, eyes wary.

I take my hand from his cock, letting it run over his rounded shoulder, down the length of his arm until I can’t reach behind him without moving. I look into his eyes again.

“God, you’re beautiful like this, Brian…” I murmur. I let my hand skim over his chest, barely brushing the hard nub of his nipple. I bring my lips to the skin of his neck, kissing the rough stubble at the edge of his jaw.

“Do you know how much this turns me on…?” I ask softly. My lips keep planting small kisses along his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. I can feel his chest moving with his breath.

He huffs a bit, the moan disguised as a laugh as I suck his earlobe into my mouth. “You’ll never make it, Justin…” he taunts quietly. “You’ll come the moment you get near me.”

I smile. “I know,” I whisper, leaning my hips closer to his, our cocks lining up between us. I open my hand, taking us both in the curve of my fingers. He twitches as I start to stroke. I moan at the feel of his hot, hard cock against mine, my hand rubbing us both. I speed up, my breath fast, faster than his now.

“That’s… why…” I pause, a wave of pleasure making me groan, “…I’m going to come now.” I close my eyes as I feel my orgasm building, the pressure behind my balls tightening, lifting. I think I’m panting. Or maybe that’s him…

He makes a small sound, and I open my eyes as I let go of his cock, stroking my own intently. His eyes are dark, his lids heavy. I stare at him as I come, my body jerking from the convulsions. He doesn’t break my stare, his pupils huge as he watches my orgasm. I cry out, the look on his face killing me. Fuck. Why don’t I do this all the time?

He’s still breathing heavily as I come down, my cum splattered between us, most of it dripping down his belly. Shit, I can feel the level of raunch ratcheting up in my body already. I’m usually pretty mellow right after I come, but right now I want to flip him over and fuck the shit out of him. It’s a good thing my cock isn’t hard enough to yet.

I step back, lowering my head between us. He moans quietly as I start to lick the cum off his body, his fingers tightening on the table. When I kiss him, he tries not to lean into it, not to respond too eagerly, but then he’s sweeping his tongue inside my mouth, his teeth biting my lower lip as I pull back. I kiss him again, my hands holding the back of his head as my chest presses into his. His hips lean forward from the table, his cock digging into me.

I tip him backwards, yanking his pants off before I climb onto the table on top of him. I hope it’s strong enough, but right now I don’t really care if it collapses under us. I know it’s uncomfortable for him to lie on his arms, the cuffs under his lower back. I let him adjust his hands, bending his elbows out to the side to ease the strain in his arms. I straddle him, laying my torso down on top of his, his cock pulsing under me. I rock my hips into him, letting the friction rub it between us. His eyes are open, watching me. I lean up, pressing my hips hard into him, seeing his lids flicker as I grind against him. He wants to come, but there’s no way I’m letting him. The moment he comes, this is all over. He barely tolerates this when he’s ragingly horny; he certainly won’t when he’s post-orgasmic.

I slide down him, clambering off the end of the table, leaving him lying there. I lift his legs before he has a chance to sit up, my arms under his knees as I press my face into him. He shakes a bit as I start to lick him, his leg muscles tensing in my arms.

I’m making little noises, telling him how much I love this, how good he tastes. I want everything, want to make him feel everything. I lap him eagerly, the sounds he’s making hardening my cock again. I have to slow down, have to find a way to make this last…

I lick my way up to his balls, taking one then the other into my mouth as he writhes. I push him farther up the table, his legs dangling over the edge. I plant his feet on the surface of the table, his knees bent. I look up as I start licking his cock, the sight of his arched back, his head angled back making me swoon as I grip his ankles with my hands.

I stop, leaning over him as we both catch our breath. His face is flushed, small patches of red dotting his chest. I want to eat him alive. Before he can orient himself fully, I grab his shoulders, hooking my hands behind his arms and pulling him up. He sits up on the table, relief on his face as his arms stretch back out behind him. His shoulders are going to ache later, but I’ll rub them for him. He knows I’ll make up for it when it’s over. I have a feeling I’ll be making up for it a lot this time.

I pull him towards me more, bringing him back to the edge of the table and pulling him to a standing position. He’s watching me, not saying anything. I step closer, my hands holding his face as I kiss him, my lips soft, gentle. I need him to stay compliant, to make sure I don’t push him too far. It’s a delicate dance and I’ve fucked it up before. Not that it turns out badly, it just means I end up as the bottom again, my ass blistered for trying to top him and not succeeding. And that’s not all bad…

I pull him gently, walking backwards towards the bedroom. I want him comfortable, I don’t want his body distracted by anything other than what I’m doing to him.

He lets me steer him into the bedroom, so I step up onto the bed, smiling at him. He doesn’t follow. I pull in a slow, deep breath.

“Brian. Come here.” I say quietly.

He snickers softly. He’s staring at me. I step back closer to him, but I don’t touch him. I run my fingers over my chest, blinking slowly as I look at him.

“You don’t have to, Brian…” I whisper, looking down as I watch my hand slide to my hip. I look back up at him, his eyes on my hand. I shiver as my fingers trail lightly over my cock.

I step a bit closer, his breath almost discernible on my face, our cocks almost touching.

“But I can come without your help, Brian.” I smile slowly as my hand jacks my dick.

Painting, The Sequel - Part 2
NC-17
 

He opens his mouth slightly when my words register, the look on his face showing me I’ve scored a point at least, if not convinced him. As long as I keep playing my cards right, he might actually beg under me at some point tonight. My cock pulses at the thought.

I reach my hand from my cock to his, watching his eyelids droop slightly as he feels my touch.

“But I can help you come, Brian…” I whisper in his ear, standing on my tiptoes to reach him. “You know I want to make you come. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Brian. Just let me…” I pull slightly on his cock, making him step forward unconsciously.

I sit on the edge of the bed, reaching around behind his waist to pull him to me. When his cock bumps my lips, I breathe him in, then exhale the air over his dick, wanting him to see how much I want this, how much I love everything about him – every sight, and smell, and taste.

I take him deep, his sharply exhaled breath telling me what his words won’t. Not like this. He tells me all kinds of things in bed now, but not when we’re playing like this. This is a barrier we cross carefully, gingerly. He lets me do it, but there’s a line. But I push the line, letting us move farther each time.

I move my head to push his cock in and out of my mouth, my hands wandering to his wrists behind his back. The thought of his bound arms makes me moan around his cock as my fingers trace the edges of the cuffs, the thick leather so smooth against his skin.

I pull my mouth off his dick, grabbing his hips and shoving him onto the bed. He falls on his side, surprise lighting his eyes. I climb on top of him, pushing him onto his back. He laughs, shaking his head. He opens his mouth to say something.

“Shut the fuck up, Brian.”

His eyes widen as his eyebrow shoots up. I lower my head so my lips are hovering over his.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re doing what I want tonight.” I grind my cock into his to punctuate my words. “And I want you to keep your pretty mouth shut. Unless you’ve got my cock in it.” I run my tongue over those pretty lips, his open mouth a magnet for my own. God, I do want to put my cock in it, but not right now…

“I’d be careful if I were you, Justin.” His throaty voice belies his threat. “I’m going to whip your ass so hard when you untie me, you’re not going to sit down for a week.”

I laugh a little, my breath washing over his face. “Mmmm, now you’re just teasing me, Brian. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I rock my hips against him, our cocks rubbing together. I do it again, the feel of it making my breath stop in my throat.

I sit up, lifting my leg so I’m not on top of him anymore. Then I get off him completely, climbing over the bed to the night table. He watches me, his face calm but his chest rising and falling from his breathing. I stop, watching him, transfixed for a minute. Once this starts, I can’t stop it – the thought of him unable to prevent this, unable to keep me from spiraling his desire higher and higher…

I take a deep breath to slow my own heart, which is pounding ruthlessly inside my chest. Moments like this are where I feel I could spill into addiction, into madness almost – unable to stop wanting him, making him want me, the desire feeling limitless and endless. And then I come, and everything feels normal again. Until the next time…

He watches me take a few things from the drawer, his face trying to show disinterest.

I crawl back over to him, pulling him onto his side and pushing him up the bed a bit. Then I push him onto his stomach. He fights it, but I push harder. The sight of his body stretched out beside me – long, lean muscles and his bound hands resting in the curve of his ass… I swallow, climbing onto him before he can turn over again.

I sit just below his ass, then lean down so my mouth is close to his ear. My cock ends up brushing his fingertips, which automatically open to circle the head of my dick. I breathe in, trying to keep the rocking of my hips to a minimum.

“You’re so hot like this, Brian.” I whisper. “So fucking hot. I’m gonna fuck you so hard…” I can’t finish my sentence, the thought making me moan. I thrust my cock into his hands a few more times, then sit up before I come just from this.

I slide further down his legs, pinning him there but giving me better access to his ass. I lift my body for a second, sliding my hands in between his legs to push them apart. He fights that too, but I shove hard enough to leave marks, white fingertip impressions turning red as the blood fills them again.

I look down, but realize his legs aren’t able to open wide enough with me sitting here, so I lift off, putting one knee in between his legs, straddling his right leg. My knee pushes his left leg further out, spreading him. I lick my lips, pulling in a deep breath through my nose. I can hear his breathing too, see his back rising and falling rapidly. God.

I hear his breath stop when my hands touch his ass, my fingers holding the outside curve as my thumbs rub into the crack. I rub softly, staying up at the top near his back, just barely spreading his cheeks when they reach the bottom of the stroke. I lean forward, placing soft kisses in the curve of his lower back, moving his arms up so I can reach the spot I want, my nose circling slightly to make him arch further. His ass pushes into my hands as he arches, letting my thumbs move lower with ease. I lower my head, shifting my body down his legs so I can lick the skin where my thumbs were - the indentation of muscle right above his ass.

I lick slowly, watching the tiny hairs on his lower back stand up, the goosebumps break out across his skin. I blow gently where I’ve just licked, the goosebumps spreading immediately. God, I could play with his body all day. Hell, sometimes I do…

I lick lower, letting my tongue push further. I feel his body stiffen under me, his attempt not to spread his legs wantonly for me.

He will. I’ll see to that.

I lick a little more, then pull away. I hear his breath push out of his chest when I stop. I smile to myself, my hands reaching for the items I’ve taken out of the drawer.

He gasps when my cold, slick fingers slide from his balls to his hole. I push one into him slightly, just my fingertip, but he tenses, fighting me. I shhh him with my voice, soft noises soothing him. I push harder, my finger sliding into him easily.

I work my finger inside him, feeling his ass clench around me. I push the second finger in quickly, his sharp breath telling me he wasn’t expecting it. He unsuccessfully tries to stop the moan when I scissor my fingers, then press on his prostate as I curve them both inside him.

He’s catching his breath when I pull them out, but his head snaps up when he feels the blunt roundness against his hole. He looks over his shoulder at me, curving his upper body off the bed so he can see me.

“Justin.” His voice is a warning.

I stroke his lower back, rubbing the top of his crack with my thumb.

“Shhh, Brian.” I push a little harder against his hole. He gasps when it’s all the way in, his muscles pulling it in once the curve starts to slope smaller on the second half of the bead. He lies back down, his forehead tucking into the pillow. I can’t help tugging a bit on the string, making him twitch.

He doesn’t say anything when I push the second bead in. Or the third.

On the fourth, I can hear that he’s holding his breath. I’m so hard I’m afraid I’m going to come all over his ass. I tug a little on the string, his body curving upwards as I do. Jesus.

I reach for the cuffs, pressing the side of the clip to open it, and let one ring slip out of it. He doesn’t move, so I pull his freed arm to the side as I push him onto his back. I straddle him again, holding his arms above his head now. I lean up, fastening one to the hook on the wall, then reach for the second clip and attach it to the other cuff, bringing that one to the wall on the other side. When he’s refastened, I look at him, his spread arms and his red lips…

I try to breathe, try not to come. Try, Justin… just try.

I move up the bed, snugging in closer to his body, sliding my legs under his as I move. I sit up, pushing my legs up the bed beside his torso, my feet resting just below his raised arms. Our asses are almost touching, his bent legs hooked over top of mine. I look between our bodies, see the remaining beads from the string lying between his legs.

I grab the lube again, coating my fingers liberally before I bring them between us. He’s watching, but now he can’t see my hand anymore. I see him hold his breath for a second, then watch him push it out through his open mouth as he sees my face.

I can’t help but drop my mouth open as my fingers push inside my body, the tight heat making me groan. He can feel my knuckles against his ass, feel me moving my fingers. He licks his lips, his face frozen with lust. I try to keep looking at him as I finger-fuck myself, but it feels so good my eyes keep closing. I stop before I give up on the next step altogether, pulling my fingers out slowly.

I reach for his cock, pumping it a few times. He shudders, his cock weeping in my hand. Fuck.

I reach for the beads, pulling the string a bit as I move them. He shifts, his body jerking as they move a little inside him. I lift carefully, finding the free end. I see his eyes start to widen as mine close, the pressure and the push making me open my mouth as I press the first one in.

I hear his stuttered curse, smiling to myself as I push the next one in. God. I get four inside of me, our asses so close now, the string tugging with every move either of us make. I push closer to him, pressing my ass against his. We’re both slippery from the lube, and I grind against him for a second. I’m leaning way back on the bed, putting my body at the angle I need to get maximum leverage against him. His fists are clenching in the cuffs.

There’s one bead still between us, and it’s pressing against both of us. I grind harder, fucking us both on the smooth round surface. He’s making this noise in his throat, and I’m going to come if he doesn’t stop. I need him to beg soon. I’m going to beg soon if I’m not careful…

He’s pushing back against me, his ass pressing into mine. We rut against each other, the beads pressing deep as we move. I’m going to die.

I stop, sitting up a bit, reaching between us. He looks at me the moment I move away from him, his eyes black and unblinking. I pull the first bead out of my body, the intense pressure at its' widest point making me groan. He watches me, his breath short and harsh. I can’t touch either of our cocks now or we’ll come. Oh god, I want to come…

I pull the next two out fast, the moan making me shake as the waves of pleasure wash over me. He’s leaning up the slightest bit, his body trying to get closer to me even if he doesn’t realize it.

I pull again, surprising him as the bead pops out of him.

“Ah, fuck…” his voice makes me want to rush, but I try to keep my hand steady as I pull.

“Shit… Justin…” I groan as he says my name, his head falling back on the pillow. We each have one bead left, the slack between them allowing me to pull my legs out from under his, to carefully straddle his hips, our cocks almost touching.

I hover over him, my hand between our legs, holding the string between us. He’s looking at me, but he’s not there anymore. His eyes are far away.

“Brian.” I whisper, not wanting to rouse him from where he is.

“Love you, Brian…” He stares at me, listening. “God, I want you so badly, Brian. So badly…”

“Gonna make you come, Brian…” His head moves a bit, but he just keeps watching me. “I’m gonna fuck you, Brian… gonna make you come when I fuck you…” I bite back my moan when he nods, his head reaching up to kiss me. I lean down, capturing his mouth in a long, slow kiss. I lose myself for a moment, just kissing him, tasting him…

I feel his body jerk at the same moment I feel the bead pull out of mine, and I’m afraid one of us has come but I can’t tell – I’m so lost in the sensation. I toss the beads across the bed, positioning my cock against him in one smooth motion.

He groans so deeply when I push inside him, I think I’m going to cry. He’s so tight and hot and wet…

I feel my body shaking as I push all the way in, his legs wrapping around my waist. His heels dig into my back as he pulls me hard against him, his ass rocking into me. I lift up on my arms, trying to get leverage to fuck him harder. I push back against his legs, needing them to open so I can move more. This isn’t going to be gentle.

His arms are pulling against the cuffs, and he’s grunting these little moans that are getting harsher and deeper as I fuck him. Oh god.

His muscles clench me so hard that I want to command him to stop and beg him to do it harder in the same breath. I pound into him, pulling all the way out and slamming back in on each thrust. He needs it hard, I know that. I’m going to come any second now, but I try to hold out for him, grinding my body against his to rub his cock as hard as I can between us.

“Brian, fuck… come, Brian… I’m gonna come inside you Brian… gonna come so deep inside you…” I’m murmuring all sorts of nasty things to him, I can’t stop myself. I want to crawl inside him, want to feel his slick, wet ass on me forever.

I hear his gasp as he comes, his body shuddering violently under mine. I hold my breath, hoping to stave off my orgasm for a few more seconds so I can enjoy his, but then it’s on top of me, and I’m shouting and pushing so deep into him, the rush of wet and hot knocking me over and I can’t breathe and can’t see and there’s nothing but him…


I finally lift my head from his chest, our breathing starting to slow down as I gingerly peel off of him. When my cock slides out, I hear his groan as I feel the wetness drip out after my cock and I want to taste it…

He swears again as I climb between his legs and lap his hole, burrowing my tongue inside him, tasting me and him and us…

I climb back up his body, kissing him and licking his mouth. He kisses me back, his mouth soft and gentle and so… Brian. I sigh into his mouth, feeling his consciousness come back, feeling Brian there again.

And yet I feel unsatisfied in some way… I just had this mind-blowing orgasm and yet I feel like I need more. I’m trying to figure it out when I hear his voice.

“You’re going to untie me now, Justin.”

I shiver at the tone of his voice. I thought I was in charge…

I’m reaching for the cuffs before I’m even aware that I’m doing it.

“And then you’re going to get on your hands and knees, Justin.”

I feel my cock jump from his words. My body floods with heat as I rush to undo the cuffs, my back already arching into position for him.

Painting, The Sequel - Part 3
NC-17

After I’ve unbuckled the clasps of the cuffs, he pulls his arms away from the wall, rotating his wrists as he sits up. I don’t know how I’ve gone from fucking him senseless to scrambling to my hands and knees, but my ass pushes up and my head drops to the bed anyway.

I hear his small chuckle, then feel his hands on my hips, moving me to where he wants me. My dick is starting to harden again, despite the two orgasms tonight. I can tell that he isn’t hard yet, but I’m sure he will be.

My heart stops when I hear his voice. It’s quiet, but that tone always makes me shiver.

“Spread yourself for me.”

I try to breathe normally as I bring my hands to my ass, pulling myself apart. It forces my head into the bed more, means the weight of my upper body is on my face. He likes me like this.

I can feel him moving behind me, but I can’t see anything. I hold myself wide, hoping to god that he’s going to fuck me with his dick. It should be his dick, he wouldn’t do it with something else. Would he…?

I feel the fear grasp my heart as I wait. He won’t really hurt me, he’d never truly hurt me. But I know he’s going to be ruthless about regaining control after I surprised him tonight. He doesn’t like surprises.

I feel a flush of heat slink through my body as I think about what he might do to me. I close my eyes, wondering if he’ll use the paddle or the flogger. Or maybe his hand. I can feel my cock throb just from the thought. It’s going to hurt, but he’s going to make it so worthwhile. He always does.

I feel something against my ass, pushing into me. I hold still, trying not to tense my muscles – that will only make it hurt. I grunt out a moan when I feel the push, then yelp a little when he’s all the way in – it’s so fast, I wasn’t ready for it.

He holds my hips as he pulls out, then slides forward again. It’s slower than I expected, but he’s probably just warming up. I follow his hips as he pulls away, then push back as he thrusts in again. I want it hard. I want him to make me sorry I ever handcuffed him in the first place. Well, I don’t know that I’ll ever be sorry - remembering the sounds he made when he realized I was pushing the beads into my body too, then when I pulled them out of him...

I whimper at the thought, trying to hold still but he’s just waiting, not moving. Why isn’t he fucking me faster yet? I push back again, but feel his hands tighten on my hips, holding me still. I stop, understanding the message. He sets the pace, I know that.

He pushes in so slowly, it makes my legs shake not to move back against him. I can’t get a lot of leverage in the position I’m in anyway, at least with him holding back away from me the way he is.

I hear a small sound come from my mouth, making me blush as I realize it’s a complaint and he knows it. He laughs a little, but he doesn’t speed up. He pushes in again, fucking me at this leisurely pace, like he has no urgency whatsoever. Like he doesn’t even care if he comes.

I’m fighting it, trying to get more, get him harder and deeper. I clench my muscles around him, smiling when I hear his breath catch. But he still keeps moving at the same pace, dragging his cock so slowly across my prostate that it’s barely making me moan. I mean, it feels good – of course it feels good – but it’s so much more gentle and languid than I expected. I figured he’d fuck me into the mattress, then flip me over and fuck me into the wall. Then spank me till I cried.

“I can do this all night, Justin.” His voice is half-mocking, half-warning. “You’re going to have to let go at some point.”

He’s right. I take a deep breath, feeling my body relax a bit as I exhale. He changes angles and I feel the pleasure light up inside me.

“Better…” he whispers.

I feel a flush of pleasure that he’s happy with me. I try to relax further, but suddenly I’m tense again.

“It’s up to me, Justin.” His voice helps me focus. “Give it to me, Justin.”

I breathe through my nose, trying to let go. He just keeps moving, his cock hard and hot inside me. I try to focus on how it feels, but all I can think is, Why aren’t you going faster? Why aren’t you fucking me harder? Aren’t you going to punish me?

There. He’s moving a bit faster. It’s still not the pace I want, but it’s better. I start to push back, and he’s letting me, but then I feel him shake and the wet warmth floods me and I realize he’s coming. God, how is he coming already?

He slumps over me, his breath harsh against my back. I let my hands move to his sides, stroking him softly. Let him catch his breath and then he can start again. He must have needed to get this out of the way before he started.

Then he leans up, and slowly pulls out. I wince as he exits my body, not because it hurts but just because it’s so empty now. My cock is hard, but not as hard as I thought it would be. As it will be, I think happily.

I feel his hand pulling me onto my side as he lays down, curling me up against him. I snuggle back into him, his arm wrapping around my waist as we lie there. I hold his fingers in my hand, looking at them. Wondering what he’ll do.

I keep wondering, and he keeps lying there, and then I realize his breathing is getting slower and he’s falling asleep. Falling asleep!? But I haven’t come, and he hasn’t punished me, and…

I sulk quietly, wiggling a bit to make sure he knows I’m still here. He makes those little noises he usually makes when he’s done for the night, when he’s drifting off. Asshole. My cock’s… I look down at my cock and realize it’s not really even hard anymore. Shit.

The last thing I remember was thinking evil thoughts about him, and then it was morning. Some end to my evening.

………………

I’m not so happy when I’m at work during the day, but then I realize he was probably just too tired after bottoming for me. He doesn’t do it often, so I’m sure it tires him out. I’m much more cheerful going about my day as I realize he’ll probably exact his revenge tonight.

When I get home, he’s pleasant and normal and everything seems perfectly fine. No tone. No eyebrow. I’m perplexed. We eat dinner in what appears - from his side - to be companionable silence, but I’m getting annoyed. When he’s cleaning up I put on a movie and don’t even notice that an hour has passed when he’s kissing me goodnight. What?

I’m too pissed to follow him to bed, so I sulk on the sofa and stare at the rest of the movie without seeing it. I climb the stairs to bed when it’s over but he’s sound asleep and I’m tired and grumpy. The next morning comes much faster than I thought it would.

………………

He’s gone when I wake up, a note on the counter about an early meeting. He’s even made enough coffee for me, the fucker. I spend the whole day in a pissy mood.

He calls in the afternoon to remind me that he has a dinner meeting tonight too, and I’m not sure if I’m more mad that I’ve forgotten, or that he’s being charming on the phone. Where are the demands, the threats? Why isn’t he telling me what he’s going to do to me? I’m totally confused, and completely miserable.

The shitty sleep I’ve had for the last two nights catches up with me, and I wake up on the sofa at three in the morning with a blanket over me and his snoring coming from the bedroom. I stay on the sofa.

………………

I walk into the bathroom in the morning and realize he’s jerking off in the shower. I stand there, watching, my first reaction shock, then desire, then anger. What the fuck is he doing jerking off without me? If he’s horny, why didn’t he wake me up with a blindfold and my legs tied to a spreader bar?

I piss in the toilet, flushing it with gusto as he showers. Too bad the water in this building is decent enough that it won’t scald him.

I try not to look at him as I leave, but the water is blurring him just enough that I have to stare a little longer to get a look at his face. He comes as I stand there, his eyes closed, oblivious to my presence.

I go to work with a hard-on and a headache.

…………………

I spend the whole day trying to figure it out. Why is he being so nice? Why am I so mad that he’s being nice? What do I want from him?

I want him to tie me up, and whip me until I cry. Then fuck me until I beg. Then start all over again. I thought that’s what he’d do after I topped him. Especially since I surprised him with it. He even told me he was going to do it before I untied him. And shit, I gave him enough hints that it was what I wanted. He knows it’s what I want.

I stare at my coffee, stirring it listlessly. Why isn’t he punishing me? Is he bored with it? Does he just want vanilla sex all the time? Not that I mind vanilla sex – ours has never been boring, no matter what the flavour – but why isn’t he taking his revenge? Why isn’t he making me pay like I want him to?

It hits me as I’m sitting there, makes me shake my head. I’m such an idiot. I grab my bag, hurrying out of the coffee shop.

…………………

I double-check everything, looking around one more time to make sure it’s all exactly right. I’ve cleaned up, the loft is spotless. Dinner’s in the fridge, the beer is cold, the bourbon is his favourite - everything’s ready. Including me.

I breathe in as I hear the elevator, then get ready for the door to open.

I hear his footsteps stop as he sees me, but I can’t see the look on his face because my head is down. I take another breath, trying to calm my heart.

It feels like forever before he moves, his Prada shoes stopping in front of me as I look at the floor. He stands there for an eternity, then starts to walk again. He circles me slowly, making my cock ache. I try to breathe.

He stops in front of me again, and I can hear his breathing in the quiet of the loft. That and my thudding heart are the only sounds.

“Very nice, Justin.”

His voice makes me swoon. I bow my head deeper, letting my clasped hands push farther behind my back. My knees are already sore from the wood floor but it’s the best pain I’ve felt in a week.

His foot slides forward, his shiny black shoe nudging my thighs, pushing under my balls. I try to stay still as he lifts my balls with his foot, then bite my lip so I won’t moan when he rubs the smooth leather over my rigid cock.

“Very nice, indeed.” He pulls his foot away, walking around me again. His breath makes me jump when he leans all the way over to put his lips at my ear. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” I shiver as he licks the rim of my ear.

“I told you that you had to give it to me.” His hand threads through my hair, making my head lift a bit. “I won’t take it, Justin, you have to give it to me. Willingly.”

I nod, tears starting in my eyes. Half because I’m sorry I didn’t get it until now, and half because he’s pulling my hair, forcing my head up. He yanks, my head tipping all the way back, my face exposed.

He licks my mouth, and I can feel the heat of his eyes on my skin. I keep my gaze down even though my head is back.

“Did you make dinner?” His fingers brush my lips as he straightens up. I nod.

“I’m hungry. You can bring it to me.” He starts to walk towards the table. I start to get up when I hear his voice.

“On your hands and knees.”

Painting, The Sequel - Part 4
NC-17

I lift his dinner from the fridge, and just as I’m trying to figure out how to get over to the table on my knees, I hear his voice.

“You can get up to bring it to me.”

I climb to my feet, ignoring the ache in my knees. I walk carefully over to the table, putting the plate down in front of him. I’ve brought him a beer too, hoping that was what he wanted. He says nothing as I put both down. I stand there and wait.

He picks up the beer, taking a long draught. It startles me when he grabs my wrist.

“Get on my lap.”

He’s pulling me down as he speaks. I fall across his lap as he pushes his chair a bit farther from the table. I’m trying to adjust myself but his hand is already coming down.

The first smack echoes in the loft as I struggle into position. He keeps going, the sting starting to build. I try to breathe as he gets faster, harder.

No. no. no. no. I don’t know if the words are just in my head or if they’re coming out of my mouth. Fuck!

“This is for making me wait three nights.” His voice is low, hard. My cock is pushing between his thighs and it’s killing me not to move.

“Don’t come.”

I bite my lip, feeling his thighs tighten as his other hand pushes my head down. I’m just about to beg him to stop, when he does. I suck in a shaky breath, my ass burning. I don’t want to move.

I moan as he runs his fingers over the spot where he spanked hardest, my skin hot and tingling.

I love that he loves this. I can feel his cock against my hip, I know he’s as turned on by this as I am. More, maybe.

His fingers trail over my ass, feathering onto my lower back and up my spine. I arch away from his touch, the nerves in my back too ticklish to stay still. I sigh as he threads his fingers through my hair, his hand scratching my scalp softly. I feel like I could purr.

His voice is much softer when he tells me to get up. I struggle to my feet, feeling how red my face is as I look at the floor. I’m ashamed now. I want to hide from him, but I know he won’t let me. He never has.

“Bend over the table, Justin.”

He isn’t looking at me, he’s picking up his fork. I know that disinterested mask – god, I’ve seen it so many times and in so many different ways, but in this context it always makes me afraid. Afraid that I’ve displeased him, that I’m not doing it right. Afraid that he’ll punish me for my mistakes. Afraid that he won’t.

I lean across the table, my chest pressing into the cool, smooth surface. I’m perpendicular to him, and can see him out of the corner of my eye, but I won’t turn my head to face him. I’m not stupid.

He’s eating, which is good I guess. He must approve of the grilled chicken salad I made. Low fat dressing, lots of veggies, just the way he likes it. I gave him a big piece of chicken though – I figured he’d need some protein for stamina. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

“Look at me, Justin.” He’s staring steadily at me as he eats.

“What do you think I should do to you?” The tone of his voice makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

“What kind of punishment do you deserve, Justin?”

Now I’m getting really nervous. And really hard. He tips his chair back a bit, a small smile on his face. He looks like a panther about to devour his prey.

“What would be fair retribution…” his chair squeaks on the floor as he pushes back and stands up, “… for trying to force me to submit to you?”

I can feel his suit jacket brush my side as he leans over the table, supporting his weight on his hands.

“For fucking me without my permission…?” He stares at me for a minute.

I can’t think of anything to say, and my heart is pounding in my ears. He brings his face really close to mine – I can feel his breath. His voice drops to a whisper,

“You should know better, Justin.”

I remind myself to breathe.

He stands up. I turn my head as he steps behind me, but it still makes me jump when he shoves his knee in between my legs. I grip the table harder with my hands.

His fingers dig into my skin as he grabs my ass. The moan leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

“Tell me what I should do to you, Justin. You have to decide.” I hear his belt buckle clink as he undoes it. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“Should I flog you, Justin?” I whimper as I hear the leather pulling through the fabric.

His suit feels rough against my bare skin as he leans over me, his body pressing into mine.

“Should I torture your cock, Justin?” he’s whispering into my ear now, his lips sending electric shocks through me every time they touch me. “Truss it up, bind your balls, clamp your nipples?”

I try to swallow around the lump in my throat.

“Should I take you out, make you beg for me in public, Justin? Make you my sex slave, give you to any cock that wants your hot, tight ass?”

“No, Brian.” I’m only whispering but it feels like I’m yelling. “Please, no.”

He knows I hate it when we play in public. He also knows I come like I did when I was 17 when we play in public.

He stands up abruptly. I suck in a big breath now that he’s not leaning on me.

I hear the leather slicing through the air a split-second before I feel it. But it doesn’t prepare me. I cry out immediately, the thick tongue of his belt marking me where it lands. It comes down again before I’ve recovered from the first one, and I cry out again. I can’t be quiet when he uses his belt.

On the third one, I’m begging, my fingers white as I hold the table as hard as I can. I’m fighting every instinct in my body not to get up, not to duck away from the blows.

I stop begging when I realize he’s paused, but my ass and thighs burn and I can’t stop the noises I’m making under my breath. I almost don’t hear him…

“Tell me, Justin.”

I gasp as he brings the belt down again, the heat searing through my skin. His hand is pressing into my lower back, holding me there. I can’t tell if I’m hearing the whacks first, or feeling them. I know I’m sobbing each time they land.

When he stops, I try to stop my whimpers, but they’re coming out of me against my will. My ass feels battered, raw, but my cock is so hard I can barely breathe. I push my forehead into the table as I try to stop shaking.

“Shhhh, Justin.” His hands are smoothing over my back, pressing the shudders gently out of me. He pulls me up, turns me to face him as he wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in his shoulder. He’s murmuring something soft to me, stroking my hair and my back.

He walks us backwards a step, pulling me into his lap as he sits down. I curl up on him, my arms holding his waist tightly. He keeps stroking, soothing me with his voice, pressing small kisses into my hair. He tells me he’s proud of me. I start to breathe more evenly, start to feel how soft his hands are, how good he smells. How hard his dick is.

I nuzzle under his chin, needing to feel his skin against mine. His skin tastes so good. I’m making noises again, but different ones now. My cock feels like it’s going to explode. I writhe in his lap, unable to say what I need.

I almost miss it when he tells me I’ve earned a reward for holding still. My head snaps up and I look at him. He strokes my face, his eyes soft and sparkling. He pushes me off his lap gently, and I sit on the floor. He smiles at me as he reaches for the fly of his pants, and I can’t breathe when he pulls his cock out.

I think I moan out loud when he nods, my body leaning forward, my hands pulling his hips to me. I’m making these little grunts of pleasure as I take him into my mouth, as I taste how wet his cock is. I think I’m gonna come.

He pushes into my mouth, his cock so hard and perfect and I couldn’t stop sucking him if I tried. I just want him to feel good, to be happy with me. I shift to get a better angle and my cock presses against his leg. I moan. I’m sucking desperately now, because the spiral of pleasure is winding up my back and I’m rutting into his leg and oh… god…

I moan around his cock as I come, my fingers digging into his hips viciously. I shudder against him, his hands holding my head as I gasp through my orgasm. Before I’m even done he pushes my mouth off, tipping my head back. I feel the shame course through me along with the aftershocks. I realize I’ve not only come, but I’ve come all over his suit. I can’t look at him.

“Look at me.” Damn.

When my eyes meet his, his eyebrow is cocked, his mouth open. He looks down at his leg, the wet spot dark and obvious. He looks back to me.

“What should I do to you, Justin? I won’t ask again.”

I blush furiously, unable to keep his eye contact. My voice is weak when I answer him.

“Flog me?”

He laughs. “Try again.”

I shake my head, and then wince, realizing I shouldn’t have. Damn. I can hear his eyebrow go up without looking at him.

“Get up, Justin. We’re going out.”

Painting, The Sequel - Part 5
NC-17

I stare at him for a second, then scramble to my feet. He gets up too, heading into the bedroom to change. I follow him, keeping my head down. I wait while he starts to take off his clothes.

He rummages around in the closet, then tosses some clothes at me.

“You’ll wear those – but don’t get dressed yet.”

I watch him pulling on his clothes as I stand there. He’s wearing his really soft, narrow black pants and this fitted black sweater. I swallow as he pushes up the sleeves, the whole outfit hugging his body and showing every curve of muscle. He looks unbelievable. I want to fall to his feet and just stay there. I don’t want to leave his side for a second.

When he’s done, he walks over to the closet again, bending down to get something from the toy box. He straightens up, then comes over to me. I can’t help but look at him.

He’s got this soft smirk on his face. He looks so sexy it’s making my teeth hurt, and I know the night is just getting started. I try not to squirm.

“You’ll wear this under your clothes.” I jump a little and moan when he reaches for my cock. “We can’t have you repeating that little performance.”

I blush, totally unable to do anything but stand there. He kicks my foot to move my legs wider, his fingers reaching between my legs to cup my balls. I hold my breath as he fastens the strap around one, then the other. I jerk as he pulls it tight. I have to put my hands on his arms for support when he starts wrapping the loop around the base of my cock, the thick leather almost painfully tight when he’s done.

He steps back, admiring his work. I watch him, my eyes wide. I can feel the leather ring making the blood constrict in my cock, the narrower straps around my balls pulling them away from my body. My balls feel huge and swollen now.

He turns to walk into the bathroom. “Get dressed.”

I hurry, pulling on the clothes he’s given me. The black pants are mercifully loose on my sore ass and straining cock, but the thin blue sweater is soft and clingy and makes me feel naked. I look down, seeing the fabric drape across my hard nipples, my nipple ring clearly visible. The sleeves are long and the neck is wide enough that it feels like it’s slipping off to one side when I move. I stand still, waiting for him, quickly fixing my hair so I look presentable.

I’m carefully looking at the floor when he comes out of the bathroom, but when he stops in front of me I can tell he likes what he sees. I can feel his smirk, and I gasp when his thumbs brush my nipples through the thin fabric, rubbing the ring a bit before he pulls them away.

He looks at his watch, then turns to head out of the room. “Let’s go.”

I follow quickly, my heart pounding.

…………………

We drive in silence, and I’m dying to ask him where we’re going, but I know he won’t tell me. I’m getting more nervous and more horny with every mile. We stop outside a three story building in an obviously gentrified neighbourhood. It looks hip and funky.

He gets out of the car first, then comes around to my side. I’m frozen in the passenger seat. He opens the door for me, offering me his hand. I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand.

I lean on his hand as I get out, my body close to shaking. I have no idea what to expect, but I’m scared and excited. We’ve only played in public a few times, and they were incredibly intense. And incredibly hot.

I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of what he’s going to do to me, or whether I can survive the intensity of this. The last time we did this, I honestly thought my heart stopped when I came. I don’t remember much from that moment until we were home in our bed again, his arms around me and his lips on my forehead. He fucked me slowly twice that night after we got home – I couldn’t bear to not have him touching me. I slept for 15 hours straight afterwards, I think.

He pulls me towards him, his hands on my shoulders. He ducks his head to look at me, forcing me to meet his gaze. His face is totally serious.

“Justin.” He searches my eyes as he talks. “Do you want to do this?” He moves his face closer to mine. I nod. He keeps looking at me.

“Are you totally sure?” I nod again. I want this, but I’m terrified of it.

His face softens, and he leans in to kiss me. I’m stiff and wooden, but then his lips coax mine apart and I let myself sink into the kiss. I lean into him, his arms wrapping around me, his hand big and firm in the small of my back. He slides his hand into my pants, cupping my bare ass and pulling me into his hard cock. I moan into his mouth, my body barely able to stay upright. I cling to him as we kiss.

When he pulls away, I’m dazed. He brushes the hair off my forehead, still searching my eyes.

“Tell me you want this, Justin. I won’t do it unless you go in willingly.”

I’m just about to speak when he cuts me off,

“And once we walk through that door, you can’t change your mind. You know the rules, Justin. Only your safeword gets you out of this. Short of that, you do whatever I tell you to do. No matter what it is. Understand?”

I feel a thrill run through my body, goosebumps breaking out on my arms. I’m afraid I’m going to swoon. My cock is throbbing above the cock ring. I nod slowly.

“Say it.” His voice is silky velvet.

My mouth is so dry I’m not sure I can, but I manage to get the words out. “I want this, Brian.”

“Ask for it, Justin.”

My breath catches in my throat as the heat rushes through my body. I look at the ground.

“Please, Brian.”

He stands there, waiting.

His fingers find my cock, cupping it through my pants. I shudder, all the blood rushing to it and my flaming cheeks. I can’t think about the fact that I’m standing here on the sidewalk, begging my lover to take me into this party and dominate me in front of a room full of strangers. I certainly don’t want to think about how much that turns me on.

He steps back, looking at me one more time, his hands holding mine. I’m looking down, my cheeks burning, but he brings one hand under my chin and tips my face up to look at him. The dangerous smile on his face makes my heart stop.

“Please…” my voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. “Please take me, Brian.”

He licks his lips as his mouth opens into a wider smile, and then he starts to walk us towards the door. I swallow heavily.

We go into a lobby of some kind, and Brian pushes a code to call whomever is hosting this little party. We get buzzed through the second door, and then we’re walking down a hallway to an elevator. We get in and Brian pushes the button for the third floor.

We get out of the elevator into another hallway, and we walk halfway down until Brian stops in front of a door. I know enough to keep my eyes down when the door opens, standing slightly behind Brian and to the side.

I stumble behind him, trying to make out the details of the room. It’s loud, but it doesn’t look like the places we’ve gone before - they’ve all been public clubs. This looks more like someone’s apartment. Tastefully decorated and lit for a party, candles and low lights everywhere, loud music making it feel like a club. Brian greets a few people, but I don’t know who they are. I’m surprised. I thought I knew everyone he knew by now.

Brian’s arm is around my waist, and he leans over to me, kissing my ear softly. I shiver. We go over to the bar and Brian gets a drink, then hands me one. I sip it slowly, not caring what it is but glad that it’s cool and wet. My throat feels parched. We hang out by the bar for a bit, and I’m starting to feel a little more relaxed. It’s obviously a sex-friendly party, judging by the low couches and throw pillows and couples making out almost anywhere you look. One of the benefits of not being a public club…

I’m watching this one particular couple, and I can see that the one guy is about to come. I keep thinking I should look away, but it’s hot and his face is amazing and I can’t stop watching. I realize I’m holding my breath when Brian leans over and whispers in my ear,

“Breathe, Justin.” He chuckles. “Hot, huh?” I nod. I move closer to him, letting my hand wander towards his hip. He turns his head to look at me, his eyebrow raised. He lifts my hand off his waist and lets it fall to my side. I look down. His voice reaches my ear,

"You don't get to touch me here, Justin."

Then I pull in a breath as his hand reaches over to my cock, covering it casually as we stand there. I try not to press into it, but I’m so hard and he’s not rubbing enough. I rock my hips, hearing him laugh beside me. “Horny?” I frown. He fucking knows I’m horny. Then I remember I’m supposed to be submissive. I say nothing.

“Then maybe I should flip you over the bar – fuck you right here…” I look up at him, my eyes widening. “Spread you out like a buffet. Open your ass up for anyone who wants it.”

I swallow heavily, looking at my drink. He wouldn’t.

Some guy comes over, cruising Brian big time. Brian smiles at him, then looks directly at me as he lets the guy stroke his cock for a minute. I feel a flush in my face, half-anger, half-shame.

It’s been a long time since either of us fucked someone else. It started almost a year ago when we were in the shower, his hands all over me. He was rubbing his cock in the crack of my ass, and I was pushing back into him – I wanted it so badly. He slammed the tap to turn off the water, and yanked me into the bedroom, both of us still dripping wet. He got the condom on in two seconds flat, but as he pushed into me he said, “This is stupid. We’re getting tested.” I hadn’t been tricking for a while, and I knew he wasn’t really anymore, so once we knew we were both clean, we just kind of fell into it.

God – the first time I felt him inside me without a condom, I thought I was going to die. He came faster than he had in years. His stamina’s back up now, but I can see the look on his face when he first pushes inside me, when he feels the walls of my body against his bare skin. I smile to myself as I think about it.

But I’m not dumb. I know that he misses it sometimes. That the desire to have someone else panting for him still lingers inside him. And there are times when I miss it too. When the thought of a stranger makes my cock ache. Not that I’d ever trade it for what I have with Brian, but the temptation is still there occasionally.

I turn my head to see this guy licking Brian’s neck, and I just watch him, trying to figure out how it makes me feel. Brian turns to look at me, then whispers something in the guy’s ear. I watch as the guy looks over, smiling. He steps away from Brian and moves closer to me. I look at Brian, a little alarmed. Brian just smiles. I close my eyes as the guy sucks my earlobe into his mouth, his hand pressing hard into my cock. He makes a little appreciative noise when he feels the cock ring, his hand moving up to the waist of my pants and diving inside them. I gasp as his bare fingers touch me, the warmth and smoothness making me bite my lip. He strokes me steadily, my knees getting liquidy.

He whispers something about my cock being hot and then he’s sliding down my body and pulling my pants as he goes. I reach for him, shocked, but he’s burying his face in my crotch and licking my cock before I can do anything. I look at Brian, wondering what to do, but the pleasure is washing over me in waves as he sucks the head of my dick. But I’m pushing him away, not wanting to do this here.

Brian leans over, taking my hand from the guy’s head and putting it up on the bar. He steps over the guy on his knees, leaning into me and holding both of my hands on the bar behind me. I’m staring at him, and the guy is sucking me slowly and making me want to whimper, but I’m embarrassed to do this in front of all these people. This isn’t the backroom, this is someone’s living room. I see people looking, and I close my eyes. Brian steps back to the side, whispering in my ear,

“Don’t move.”

I groan quietly. It feels so good but I can’t come with this thing on my cock and it’s making me harder and harder and I don’t want to moan in front of these people but it’s out of my mouth before I can help it. I’m gasping, the intensity of the sensation combining with the acute embarrassment and oh god…

I groan loudly when he stops, my breath coming out in short pants. I open my eyes, and Brian is looking at me with this wicked look on his face, his eyes glittering. The guy stands up, smiling at me. He smiles at Brian, too, then walks away, grinning at us over his shoulder. I’m trying to regain my composure, pulling my pants back up with shaky hands.

Brian chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. I want to sink into the floor, but that’s not going to happen. I take a long swallow of my drink instead.

“Time to play, Justin.” Brian’s voice makes me want to cry and want to come at the same time. I look at him, but he’s just smiling at me. He pushes away from the bar, taking my hand. I put my drink down quickly, following him.

We walk down the hall, and I notice there are a number of closed doors. Brian stops in front of one, and knocks. When there’s no answer, he pushes it open.

I start to walk in, but he grabs me. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when his hand pushes on my shoulder, forcing me to my knees. I drop, my heart racing. He walks in first, then calls over his shoulder,

“Come in… on your knees.”

I take a deep breath, hurrying as much as I can on my knees, hoping no one in the hall can see me. I get a few feet inside the door and wait, not daring to look up.

Brian has always had a dominant side to his personality, it shows in everything he does. But when we play like this, he’s able to channel something inside him that is so powerful, so strong – I sometimes forget he’s the same man who brushes his teeth beside me in the mornings and bitches when we’re out of guava juice. Who has rescued me more times than I can count, and who finally let me in when he was sick and then again when he was well. Who fucks me now when he needs to feel young and beautiful, instead of running to the nearest trick. Because although I know he’ll be watching a movie and joking with me tomorrow, right now the parameters of our relationship only exist in this room, and I’d damn well better do what I’m told.

I hate having to move around on my knees, and he knows it. But he also knows it makes me feel submissive like little else. Other than a sound flogging, which he’s already done tonight. I blush as I remember, my head bowing deeper.

He sits down in a leather chair at one side of the room, putting his drink on the table beside the chair. I look around a little, pulling in a breath when I see the furnishings in the room. This is no ordinary apartment. There’s a swing in one corner, and a low futon-style mattress against one wall. I look around more obviously now, needing to see what else is in here. He lets me. There’s a heavy wooden St. Andrew’s cross in the middle of the opposite wall, and a bench-type thing beside it. I don’t even know what that’s for. I don’t want to. There’s a wardrobe beside the swing, but I’m guessing it’s not full of clothes. When I look up I see there’s a huge, sturdy hook in the middle of the ceiling. I can’t breathe.

When I look at him, he’s smiling and watching me. He gets up and goes to the wardrobe, and although I can’t see much detail, I see enough black leather and metal to make my cock drip. There are whips hanging on the inside of one door, and paddles of varying sizes on the other. The only thing in his hands as he walks back to me is a blindfold, which he wraps around my eyes as I try to breathe deeply. His fingers trail over my face as he finishes clasping it behind my head, my face turning into his touch immediately.

I can’t see him now, but I can hear him walking around me. I hear something clinking, and something being moved or placed on the table. Then I hear the leather creak as he sits down again. The sound of his breath on the cigarette reaches me before the smell of the smoke does.

I don’t know how long I’ve kneeled here, but I’m getting more apprehensive by the second. Even when I know he’s playing with my head, it always works.

But my heart stops when there’s a knock at the door. I wait, holding my breath, for Brian to tell them the room is occupied. My heart plummets to my stomach when I hear his voice.

“Come in.”

My head snaps up, and it’s all I can do not to yank the blindfold off. I hear the door open, and someone coming in. Oh my god. Thank god I’m not naked.

I hear murmured voices, Brian talking to someone. I strain to see if I can recognize the voice, but realize pretty quickly that it’s futile. Then I hear someone stop in front of me. Then, thankfully, Brian’s voice.

“Stand up.”

I scramble up to my feet, my heart thudding. I sigh as I feel his hands on my face, his thumb stroking my lower lip. I flinch when I feel a second set of hands on the back of my shoulders, but Brian shhhs me, his lips on my cheek, my forehead.

“Very nice, Brian.” The guy’s voice makes my legs feel weak. I feel the sweat start to trickle down the back of my neck.

Brian laughs a little, small puffs of air hitting my face. I lean towards him, trying not to whimper.

“He looks even better naked.” Brian’s voice is amused, commanding. I hear a murmur behind me, then feel hands sliding over my shoulders to my chest. He steps closer to me and I can feel a hard body against my back, a hard cock pressing into my ass. Oh god.

The fingers pinch my nipples, and I can’t stop the moan. My hands reach out to Brian for support. He’s right in front of me, his silky sweater so soft under my fingers. I lean my head into his chest.

“Stand up straight.” I snap back up at Brian’s order, my shoulders straightening, my arms automatically dropping to my sides. I hear a soft snort behind me.

“Well trained, too…”

Brian laughs softly, then I feel him step back. I whimper quietly, trying to keep my hands at my sides. I don’t want him to move away from me.

“Undress him.”

I groan softly as I hear Brian walk away, hear the chair as he sits again. I’m shaking as firm hands slide under my sweater, sliding up my chest. I don’t want it to feel good – I have no idea who’s touching me – but I can’t help it. He pulls on my nipple ring a bit, his hips pressing into my ass. I press back before I’ve even realized it. He huffs a little laugh into my ear.

I raise my arms as he pulls the sweater up, carefully avoiding my blindfold. I shiver when it’s gone, the desire to cross my arms over my chest as powerful as it is irrational.

When he slides one finger into each side of my waistband, I fight to keep my knees from shaking. I feel lips against my ear as my pants start to slide lower. His breath is pushing into my ear, small sounds of appreciation coming from his mouth. His lips press into the base of my neck as he leans down to push my pants past my knees. They fall to the ground and I stand there, my own breath harsh in my chest now. I don’t have to see my cock to know it’s standing away from my body, my balls no doubt red and swollen.

He slides his hands around my waist, his chin on my shoulder. I hear his breath catch as his chin presses down a bit, he must be looking down at my bound cock. He steps away fast, his hands still on my waist as he slips in front of me. I feel that he’s turning to look over his shoulder by the pressure of his hands on my waist, and I hear Brian say,

“Go ahead.”

The guy makes a little sound, then I feel his fingers on my cock. I moan, my knees flexing. His hands are so soft, he’s barely touching me. His fingers are gentle, searching, exploring. They cup my balls and my head falls forward. I hear the pleas start to come from my mouth as he slides down my body.

No. no. please. no. please. please. god. uhhh.

I can’t think when his mouth closes over my cock, his hands holding my ass to bring me to him. I shake as he sucks me, the pressure in my cock so intense I want to cry.

Please, Brian. please. please. oh god.

He’s moaning around my cock and the vibrations are making me grit my teeth. I don’t know how I haven’t come yet, but the damn cock ring is keeping everything too tight.

I hear Brian’s voice, and I think he’s closer to us now.

“Easy…” he soothes, but I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the guy sucking my cock. I don’t care. I’m begging, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

I gasp when I feel him pull off, my cock wet and aching. Then Brian’s hands are on my shoulders, massaging me. One moves to my chin, bringing my face up. He kisses me softly, his tongue pushing into my mouth gently. I suck it furiously, needing something inside me. He lets me, then pulls away slowly. I hear his voice as he looks to the side,

“Get undressed.”

I hear the other guy’s clothes rustling immediately. I kiss Brian again, leaning in to him. I can feel how hard he is, and I want to fall to my knees and make him come. I start to slide down, but his hands are under my arms. He whispers into my mouth,

“Not yet, Justin.” He pushes his hips into me once, and I moan at the feel of his cock digging into me. Then he’s stepping away, and I reach for him, pleading,

“Brian, please…”

I hear a knock at the door again and the “no!” is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Brian stiffens a bit, then I feel his lips hovering over mine.

“You don’t get to say ‘no’, Justin.”

He calls towards the door, “Come in.”

I freeze as I hear footsteps. I stay where I am, and I hear Brian talking to someone. Then there are hands on me again and I don’t know who they belong to. I reach out, hoping Brian is there. I sigh when I feel his sweater again, my hands gripping it as I feel hands on my ass.

“Someone’s been bad tonight…” the voice is deep, sexy. Brian laughs a little, and I feel fingers tracing my ass gently, running over the sore spots from earlier. Then I feel the hands trail up my sides, making me squirm, then they leave my body – but I can tell they’re still moving. I hear Brian’s breath change just a little, feel him shift in front of me. Then his arms are moving up, and I can tell they’re touching each other with me in between them. I moan quietly.

Brian steps back for a second, and I feel the air move as I hear his sweater come off. I hold my breath. He steps back, our chests almost touching. I reach out for him, but the guy behind me grabs my wrists, pulling my arms to my sides. I struggle a little – I don’t even know who this guy is and he’s trying to stop me from touching Brian? But then Brian’s mouth is close to my face and he says,

“You haven’t earned that, Justin.”

I whimper. It turns louder when I hear Brian’s breath catch, hear a small moan leave his mouth. I whip my head around, chafing at the frustration of not being able to see what’s happening. Who’s touching him? What are they doing? Why is he moaning?

Then they’re both pressing in to me, their hands roaming each other’s arms, shoulders, two hard naked chests pressed into me from both sides. I feel both of their hard cocks too, and I’m writhing between them, I need someone to touch me. Then Brian’s mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me hungrily. He’s rocking his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing my cock and making me shake. I’m so grateful for the cock ring now – I know I’d be coming all over his pants again if it wasn’t on.

Then he steps away, and I almost fall forward, but someone’s hands catch me and straighten me up. There are hands on my ankles, helping me step out of my pants, taking off my shoes. Then Brian’s hand slides into mine, and he’s leading me across the room. Oh god. I think my head is shaking, but I hope I’m only saying ‘no’ in my head, not out loud.

We stop, and then I feel hands pulling my arms and legs, pressing them against something. Brian’s voice is soothing me, murmuring something soft in my ear, but he’s lifting my hand up, and I feel something wrap around my wrist. I start to plead when I realize I can’t move my arm, but the other one is being bound now.

Then fingers are running up the inside of my leg, pushing my legs far apart. I can’t seem to prevent my body from responding, and somehow my legs are spread and something is wrapping around my ankles now. I feel a cool, smooth surface in front of me, like I’m against a wall, but there are open spaces where my head and my chest and my cock are. I pull against the restraints but I realize it must be the St. Andrew’s cross, and I’m not going anywhere.

My heart is pounding and I struggle, I can’t help it. Then I feel Brian’s hands on my back, smoothing long strokes, and his lips are beside my ear. He’s kissing my face softly, and I want to cry. His voice is so gentle.

“Shhh, Justin. It’s ok. You’re ok. You can do this.” He reaches in between my legs and cups my throbbing balls. I try to twist away, but I can’t get far. His hand moves to my cock, stroking me softly. I can’t think.

“You wanted this, remember?” He’s nuzzling my neck, licking my ear. “You asked for this. You asked me to give you this. Shhh…” I moan, knowing he’s right. Knowing he won’t really hurt me, he won’t let them hurt me. As if he was reading my mind, he says,

“I’m in control, Justin. You’re doing this for me. Because I want it.” I moan again as he presses his cock into my back. “Feel that. That’s how much I want this…” he rocks against me, grinding his cock into me.

“I want you tied up like this, spread for me.” I feel the heat coursing through my body. I can’t close my mouth, but I can’t speak. He’s still rubbing his cock against my ass, but now there are hands on my legs, tickling up the inside of my calf, the back of my knee. Brian’s hands are on top of mine, his lips pressing into my neck, my face. “So hot like this, Justin…” he moans softly and kisses my ear again, but then he’s moving away. I start to whimper again, begging him not to go.

“Please, Brian, please… don’t, please…”

He leans into my ear again, but his body isn’t touching me. “You’ll do it for me, Justin. You’ll do exactly what I want.”

“And right now, I want to watch.”

I moan loudly as he walks away, my heart pounding in my ears. I hear him sit in the chair again, hear the clink of the ice cubes as he picks up his drink. My head falls forward and I want to die.

I feel hands on my back, sliding over my ass, down my legs. I want to fight it, but they feel so good, I hate myself for liking it. I groan when I realize I can’t tell how many hands there are, or where they’re going, and I gasp when one closes over the head of my cock and another is rubbing my crack and another is trailing up my arm and oh god…

“Open him.”

I beg when I hear Brian’s voice. “No! Brian, please, no!”

I hear soft shushing sounds and gentle hands cupping my ass, and I try not to push back into them but then it’s wet and slick and oh god…

My legs are spread so far that I can’t get away and there’s a finger inside me and it’s pressing and rubbing. I’m panting, my hips swirling and pushing back. Then there’s another, and I wish I had something to bang my head against because I need something to ground me… I feel like I’m floating and the only thing connecting me to the earth is the fingers in my ass and they’re moving… and twisting… and stretching… and I want to come so badly I think I’m going to die.

I think I hear Brian get up, but I can’t tell. The fingers in my ass are still moving, but the other hands are all over me, pinching my nipples and squeezing my cock and sliding up the back of my neck into my hair and I feel so totally taken and my nerves are thrumming.

I gasp when the fingers pull out, and I’m humping the cross in front of me but it’s too high and my cock just pushes into the air and I’m begging for more.

I cry out when I feel a sharp smack on my ass, the pain blooming across my skin. I shake as two more crack down, my throat starting to hurt from my pleading. Then I can’t breathe when something pushes against my hole and I hear Brian say,

“Don’t fight it, Justin.”

I groan from the bottom of my soul when I feel it push into me, and I don’t know what it is, or who it is, but it’s so big and hard and oh my god, I need it to fuck me right now.

It does, pulling out and thrusting in again and I’m writhing and pushing back into it as far as I can, but then it’s gone and the smack lands before I’ve even taken a breath.

I think I’m crying, but I can’t tell – I can’t tell anything anymore, my body is just one raw nerve and my balls hurt so badly I can’t think. And I don’t know why they’re spanking me but then the cock is back and it’s so good and I hope it’s Brian’s, but I can’t tell and I don’t care and I want to come…

It fucks me relentlessly, and I know it’s a real cock, not a dildo. I can feel his balls hitting my ass on each in-stroke now, and his hands gripping my hips. I’m pleading incoherently now, I don’t even know what’s coming out of my mouth.

I want it to be Brian so badly, and I’m trying to pay attention enough to figure out if it is, but I can’t because it’s so hard and so hot and I’m choking out moans and I think I’m dying. My balls ache so badly from the straps around them that I wonder if they’ll ever stop hurting and my cock is so full that I know I’ll have a mark from the ring for days.

Then I hear familiar stuttered curses behind me and I can feel his cock swelling inside me and I’m flying and my heart is going to burst and then I feel Brian's hand on my dick and his voice in my ear,

“Come, Justin.”

And the snaps pop open on the rings and it’s yanked off my balls and the sensation is so intense as the blood rushes. And then I’m coming and it’s all swirling together and I can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure, and it lasts forever and I’m crying and laughing and moaning his name, and then it’s all black…

…………………

When I open my eyes, I don’t know where I am. I look around, and only Brian is there, and he’s smiling and his hand is on my face, and I smile and I’m so tired. He wraps the blanket around me more, his lips pressing gently into my face and he tells me to close my eyes, so I do.

He smoothes his hands over my back, little kisses pressing into my eyebrows and my ear and my nose. I reach for him, my hands holding his arm, burrowing myself deeper in his embrace. I feel so good and so tired and he smells so good and his hands are so soft…

……………

I wake up in our bed, and I have no idea how I got there. He’s beside me, and he stirs when I wake. I crawl closer to him, wrapping my arm around his chest. His arms come around me, and his voice is hoarse with sleep,

“That was quite a nap.” He laughs softly. I look over at the clock on the bedside table and then I realize I don’t care what time it is. I put my head back on his chest and listen to his breathing.

“Was it what you wanted?” His voice is still sleepy, but I can tell he needs to know the answer. I can't believe he remembered that I told him I'd fantasized about that a couple of years ago, when we were playing in public. Not playing in public quite as intensely as last night, but when he made me tell him a fantasy while we sat in a restaurant. I smile as I remember how turned on it made him to hear it - not to mention doing it. But I also know he maintained the line the whole time, and while there were other people present, it was really only ever me and him. It's always only me and him.

I smile, fatigue still making my body heavy. My ass is a little sore and my balls ache and I can tell he’s rubbed cream into my skin where the marks are, including my wrists. I look at him, and his eyes are serious.

He looks at my arm, and I see his eyes stop on the chafe marks. When they come back to meet mine, he’s searching my eyes for the answer. I kiss him softly.

I lean up, smiling at him. “I’m thinking I’ll call the art show ‘Fantasy Fulfilled’. Or maybe ‘He loves me’”. He laughs. “And you’d better buy me some more paint, ‘cause I’m going to be busy. I've been feeling awfully inspired lately."

-fin-