Trained By My Girlfriend's Dad: A M/M Straight To Gay First Time Romance

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Trained By My Girlfriend's Dad: A M/M Straight To Gay First Time Romance Page 9

by Charlotte Storm


  When I’m done, and Dominic has expressed every drop of pleasure from my spent cock, he pops off, puts his hand on the door handle, tries to get out of the car.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I say, freezing him in place.

  “Getting out of the car, sir.”

  Now he’s starting to piss me off. “I didn’t give you permission to get out.”

  He grips the door handle, huffs out a heavy sigh. “Can I get out, sir.”

  He doesn’t wait for my answer. When the door slams closed, I lose my shit.

  “Stop,” I command when he’s halfway to the side entrance to Phong’s shop.

  He does. Thank fuck he does. I’m not sure where this could’ve gone if he hadn’t. “Talk to me, Dominic. What’s going on with you? What crawled up your ass and died?”

  Sure, I could be more tactful, more compassionate. Those really aren’t two things I do well, and I’m too pissed for patience.

  “What’s not up my ass is you,” he fires back, nostrils flared, hands gripped into fists at his sides. “This whole time I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me. To just take me, claim me, make me yours.”

  I point at Phong’s shop. “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “I...uh, I honestly don’t know. I’ve never been to anywhere like this before.”

  I soften, even if it’s just a little. Dominic’s never been trained. He’s naturally submissive, yes. But he’s new to this lifestyle. He’s probably scared. Nervous. Anxious. All the things I felt the first time.

  I open my mouth to say something nice. Well, nice as far as I’m concerned. Dominic ruins it.

  “For all I know, you’re about to take me into some seedy, dark backroom where a group of strange men will take their turns gang-raping my ass. Since I’m just another sub and not anyone actually fucking important.”

  I close the distance between us in two quick strides. Dominic cowers. Actually fucking cowers. I should slow down, stop scaring him. I’m too intense. A fact I know about myself. Fuck if I can stop the tornado inside me jumbling together what I want and what I fear I might never have again.

  When I reach Dominic, I’m fifty percent sure I’m going to hit him, fifty percent sure I’m going to bend him over and fuck him in the parking lot until I spend my aggression deep inside his ass. It isn’t until my name rolls off his lips, part awe, part terror, that I settle for something in the middle.

  I kiss him.

  I kiss him like it’s the end of the world, and this is our last moment together.

  I kiss him as if he holds the secrets of the universe, my tongue the only way to tease them out.

  I kiss him like I need him. Like I’ve never had a broken heart.

  He tastes like me and him mixed together in a heady, intoxicating blend of innocence, danger, and pleasure.

  Dominic fists my shirt, makes a noise in the back of his throat. I know I need to let him breathe, and I can’t imagine his lips won’t be bruised after this. I don’t care. For one blissful moment, I don’t give a shit about training him. About being the one in charge. About the defined roles meant to create an impassable distance.

  “Darryl,” Dominic husks against my lips when I pull away just enough to give us both a break, not so far that our mouths stop touching.

  I bite his lower lip. “Yeah?”

  Dominic’s voice is barely a whisper when he says, “I need you to tell me I’m not just another bottom you don’t give a shit about. That you won’t throw me away like you’ve done to subs in the past.”

  I want to make him those promises, partly because he needs me to, and partly because it’s true. I have no plans to toss him aside the way I did Owen. The way I’ve done with every single planned, vetted arrangement I’ve entered into since Mason’s death.

  Dominic wasn’t planned. He wasn’t vetted. He’s my daughter’s ex. Recent ex. Keeping him is impossible. But just like I’m not about to make him the promise I won’t toss him aside, I’m not about to be a complete dick and say that truth, either.

  I kiss him again, shorter this time. “Do you really need me to tell you?”

  He pulls back, looks me in the eyes. “Yes, sir. I need to hear it.”

  No he doesn’t. What he needs is to believe it, and that’s not something I can make him do.

  Scruffing the hair at the nape of his neck, I twist until his head bows to the side. He takes a knee to try and alleviate the pain of my grip. His face is lined up with my crotch, the zipper on my pants still down from when he sucked me off in the car.

  His gaze flicks to my thickening length poking through the opening. Seeing him on his knees gets me hard every single time.

  I bring his attention back to me by saying, “If my actions haven’t shown you what you need to know, then me telling you won’t make a difference. Now, get to your feet and get your ass inside, before I decided I haven’t spanked you enough today.”

  I raise my hand, swat ready. The hungry, greedy look in Dominic’s eyes tells me he wants more, but the fear behind the look tells me his ass is too sore to take it. Right now, anyway.

  Pushing to his feet, my sub says the two words that let me know we’re on the same page. “Yes, sir.”

  I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, draw him in close. “That’s more like it.” In a softer voice, I say, “I know you’re nervous, and scared. You don’t need to be. I know you, Dominic. Know your boundaries. Know what gets you off. You’re going to like this. You’re going to like the outcome of this even better.”

  He closes his eyes when I grip him harder. Licks his lips when he says, “Yes, sir.”

  Before I let him go, before we go inside the shop, I give my sub one more kiss, make him the kind of promise I know will get him through the next hour. The only real promise I can make.

  “Play your role, do me proud, and I’ll let you decide when I take your virginity. Deal?”

  Dominic’s deep brown eyes widen. He draws in a quick breath. I bet, if I cupped his dick, it’d be hard as stone. “You’d do that for me? Give me that power?”

  Dominic doesn’t understand, that power is already his.

  “Do you really need me to say it?” I question, harkening back to our earlier conversation.

  He bites his lip, shakes his head. “No. I think I have all the answer I need.”

  Chapter 16

  Dominic

  My palms are sweaty when I reach for the door handle. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since Darryl kissed me in the parking lot, even if it’s racing for a different reason now.

  Maybe kiss isn’t really the right word for what we did. On some deeper level, our mouths did more communicating in the absence of words than with them.

  I hesitate before opening the door, but with Darryl right behind me, pushing me forward with nothing but his will, I don’t pause long.

  The scent of leather, plastic, and latex greets my nose when I step inside the Hard Wear Store—a private, upscale sex toy shop and dungeon. You have to know someone who knows someone to even know about this place. And you have to be a VIP member to get into the dungeon, or any of the private rooms.

  I’m not sure if it makes me proud, nervous, or a little sick to my stomach that my dom is such a member.

  The sound of the door closing behind me makes me jump. I glance over my shoulder at Darryl, and try to swallow the lump in my throat. It doesn’t budge, probably because my stomach is stuck right behind it.

  With a flick of his chin, and a more than wicked smile on his full lips, my dom demands I keep moving, do what we came here to do.

  Shaking out my hands, I move forward, maneuver around bookshelves lined with the kind of shit you’d see in a Fifty Shades movie. No. Actually, this stuff is way more hardcore. I’m outta my depth with no idea what most of these items are for, let alone what they’re called.

  Guess that’s why I’m here. To learn.

  After stepping around a display
case with both glass and vibrating neon dildos, I come to the checkout counter and stare at the only other person in the store besides me and Darryl.

  “You must be Dominic,” he says, his words quick and sharp. He strikes me as the type of man who doesn’t waste time. Who gets right to the point.

  “Uh, yes.” I glance over my shoulder at Darryl. His lips tilt down. His brow creases. “Uh, sir,” I quickly ad. “You...uh, you must be Phong.”

  “The one and only.”

  Phong comes around to the front of the register. He’s a far more intimidating man than my ex’s dad, though, at first glance, his intensity isn’t obvious.

  Easily a foot shorter than Darryl, and maybe ten years older, Phong is someone who has a kind face and happy smile. But behind the mask prowls a dom more alpha than Darryl.

  I don’t know how I know that. Maybe it’s submissive-spidey senses. What I do know is that I never thought someone more alpha than a man like Darryl could exist.

  “What can I do for you?” Phong asks, his dark, piercing eyes never leaving mine.

  I break eye-contact first, look down at the floor like I’ve been trained to do. Even if I hadn’t been trained, staring at a man like Phong—someone who I swear sees into the dark places even I haven’t had the guts to shine a light on—is too intense. I’d bet stronger men than me bow their heads before him.

  I can’t imagine how many men have bowed, and kneeled, before him.

  Clearing my throat, I repeat the words Darryl coached me to say. “My dom requires specific supplies. I was hoping, sir, that you could help me acquire them.”

  Phong steps close, places his finger underneath my chin, lifts until his gaze traps mine again. He smells like woodsy incense and cherry lip balm, two things that couldn’t be more opposite, yet, surprisingly, smell amazing when paired.

  “When you speak to me, you look at me.”

  I watch Phong’s lips as they move, anything to avoid his eyes.

  He jerks my chin higher. “Here.” He points to his eyes.

  My entire body wants to fidget, wants to pull away, leave, be done with this. Every part but my cock. It’s at full attention, all of its focus on Phong.

  Yes, I’m uncomfortable. Yes, I want to crawl out of my own skin. But there’s something about those feelings, about knowing another man can force me to do something I don’t want to, that turns me on in an intense, consuming way.

  “Yes, sir,” I finally answer.

  He lets go of my chin. “Now, what specific supplies do you require?”

  I glance over my shoulder at Darryl. Phong grabs my chin, this time with more force.

  “Eyes on me. I won’t tell you again,” he says. Any trace of the smiling, kind man I saw when we first met is gone. The way his eyes flick to the wall of riding crops to our left tells me he’ll use them, zero hesitation.

  I fight the urge to look away, drop to my hands and knees and beg him not to hurt me. “Yes, sir”

  Silence stretches between us. Sweat drips from my forehead, my neck, under my arms. It takes me a few seconds to figure out why he hasn’t said anything, what I’m supposed to do.

  “Uh, right. Supplies.” I trip over the words, and shit. This guy is intense.

  From behind me, Darryl lets out a small chuckle. This isn’t funny. I’m under serious pressure to both please my dom and perform exactly like the two men expect. On top of that, I’m about to ask a practical stranger to help me shop for sex toys, then teach me how to use them.

  Blood rushes to my face and neck. There’s no doubt I’m bright red. The rest of my blood rushes south, making my dick pulse in my pants.

  Clearing my throat, I decide to just say what I need, really fast, bandaid style. “I’ll take a collar, anal plug training set, lube, and something called an anal douche.”

  Darryl clears his throat, his way of telling me I forgot something. I don’t dare look at him. “Uh, and...uh, oh yeah. I’ll take a string of beads. Sir.”

  I’ve never felt more humiliated in my entire life. Never dreamed I’d be in a position to say the words anal douche, plug training set, and beads. Let alone need those things so that my ass is clean and stretched so my dom can fuck me.

  My dom. Another man. Fucking me.

  My asshole clenches at the thought. My dick grows even harder. It starts to hurt. One touch, I’d probably blow.

  No woman has ever put me so on edge, has ever come close to pushing me to this level of desperate. If Darryl told me, right now, that I have to suck off Phong in order to come, I’d do it. Drag a guy or two off the street and blow them, too. Anything to chase the relief I know Darryl provides.

  That’s how bad I need release. No. That’s how bad I crave my dom to make me release.

  Handing me a basket, Phong gets to work grabbing the items I requested. Once all of them are gathered, Phong leads me and Darryl into a back room. The kind with a door that locks.

  “Set down the basket and take off your clothes,” Phong says the moment the door closes. Darryl flicks the lock.

  “Y-Yes, sir.” I swallow hard, whip my shirt over my head. It hits the ground, followed by my shorts and boxer briefs. My dick, still rock hard, pulses when the cold air hits it. A bead of precum wets my head, threatens to drip onto the floor.

  When it does drip from my head, Phong catches it in his palm. He holds his palm up to my mouth. I know what he wants, don’t need him to say the word, “Lick.”

  I follow the silent command. The flavor of my excitement bursts across my tongue. Salty and tangy.

  Phong removes his hand, brings his palm to his nose before before dropping it to his side. “He smells delicious,” Phong says to Darryl.

  I hear the rumble of Darryl’s voice in his chest before he speaks. “You should taste him.”

  Phong’s eyebrow raises toward his hairline. “Is that an offer?”

  I tense, my shoulders scrunching to my ears. I’m not entirely sure how I’d feel if Darryl gave this stranger permission to suck my cock. I mean, my cock loves the idea. But I don’t belong to this man. My heart would rather it be Darryl’s lips wrapped around me over anyone else.

  “No,” Phong says, his dark eyes surveying my face. “I think not. Well, then. Let’s take a look at you.”

  Phong steps back, takes his time walking in a slow circle around me. His eyes appraise my flesh as if I were a prized hefer at a county fair.

  “I’m going to touch you,” Phong says, appraisal apparently complete. “I’m going to make you uncomfortable. I’m going to stretch your boundaries, and other things. If, at any time, I cross over your boundary too far, say the word magenta.”

  I want so bad to ask, “Why not red?” I don’t dare.

  As if reading my mind, Phong answers. “Red is boring, and, quite frankly, a bit cliche.” Phong’s gaze flicks to Darryl, who has thankfully moved into my line of vision. “Same goes for you.”

  Darryl nods once, but doesn’t take his eyes off my naked ass. An ass that belongs to him. An ass he’s going to claim whenever I say so.

  Phong spends the next several minutes explaining what everything in the basket is, what it’s made of, how it works, safe ways to clean and use each item. When we get to the collar, Phong hands it to Darryl.

  My dom steps up behind me, wraps the thick leather strap around my neck, and tightens it. The collar doesn’t quite choke me. It’s more of a constant reminder of my role in our game.

  “When you enter my room, this collar will be waiting for you by the door.” Darryl’s voice is silky smooth, with the exact amount of freight-train rumble that makes me shiver in anticipation. “You’ll remove your clothes, put this on, and then wait in this position.”

  Grabbing me by the back of the neck, Darryl kicks my legs out wider until my ball sack swings in the space between my legs. Using his hand on my neck, he pushes my head down until my chin practically touches my chest. He moves my arms behind my back, guides each hand to clasp the opposite elbow.

  “Do you unde
rstand?” he asks, his hot breath caressing my earlobe.

  Another drip of precum leaves my slit. This time, it hits the floor. “Yes, sir.”

  The sound of the lube bottle opening brings my focus to Phong. He’s coating the smallest of the trainer butt plugs. I clench on instinct, eyes wide. Shit, this is really happening. I’m really about to have my ass stretched by another man while my dom watches.

  Fuck, if that isn’t the biggest damn turn-on.

  Keeping hold of my neck, Darryl steps in front of me, still gripping my ass cheek. “Look at me,” he commands. I obey, sparing only the briefest flicker at his lips as he licks them.

  His blue eyes are sharp shards of crystal ice. His jaw is tight and glacier hard. “Keep your eyes on me, Dominic,” he growls in the miniscule space between our mouths. “I want to watch you get stretched for the first time.”

  Phong steps up behind me, places his hand on my other ass cheek. Like a curtain drawn before the show, my ass the stage, both Darryl and Phong part me at the same time.

  “I’m going to go slow,” Phong says, his tone almost clinical. Cold. Focused. “Like everything in life that’s difficult, it’s best if you breathe through it. Clench, and it’ll hurt more. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Something cool and unyielding presses against my hole. I tighten, then remember what Phong said.

  Using Darryl’s intense stare as a lifeline, I concentrate on drawing in a slow, steady, deep breath. When Phong applies pressure to the plug, his motion a small circle around the ring of my hole, I blow my breath out.

  After a few more circles, Phong says, “Take another breath, and when you blow it out, I’m going to enter you. You’re going to feel pressure. Remember to relax.”

  I nod my head, part my lips, and draw in another slow, deep breath. But the exhalation gets stuck in my throat when Phong pushes the plug forward. I thought I’d be ready for it, that I already sorta knew what the sensation would feel like, since Darryl’s had his fingers in my ass before.

  I’m wrong.

 

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