by Z. Allora
Foster growled as he reached around and wrapped his hand around Benjamin’s cock, helping him finish his orgasm with unparalleled gratification as he worked himself in and out of Benjamin slowly until he collapsed onto Benjamin’s back.
Vaguely aware of the applause from the doorway, Benjamin closed his eyes and enjoyed the weight of his Master on him.
When their breathing returned to normal, Foster pulled out. He zipped up and sashayed over to the door. “Okay, kiddies, the show’s over. Shoo.” He shut and locked the door.
After tossing the condom, he brought over a warm, damp towel, ran it over Benjamin’s body, and then dried him. He held a bottle of water to Benjamin’s lips. “Drink.”
Unlocking his arms, Benjamin sipped the water Foster provided. “Thank you, Master.”
“Welcome.” Foster helped him step out of his pants and guided him over to the platform that had been covered in a silk sheet. “Lie down.”
Benjamin followed the instructions because he couldn’t think beyond the calm, peaceful satisfaction coursing through him.
Foster wiggled out of his leather and dove onto the platform in only a pair of jersey briefs. He arranged the pillows under his head and tucked them both in with a soft blanket so he held Benjamin’s head on his shoulder.
After a long while, Foster cleared his throat. “So, you said I could have anything. Did you mean it?”
“Yes, Master.” Even though the scene was over, Benjamin had a feeling he might always think of Foster as Master… dare he hope his Master?
Foster nodded. “Okay, then, how about a date?”
Chapter 4
BENJAMIN STOOD freshly showered, staring at his closet as if he could manifest a new wardrobe.
He might be overthinking this. Foster had said to dress for a casual dinner and dancing. Besides, it was just a date.
Just! This wasn’t just a date! This was an interview with the Master of his most submissive dreams.
Oh Mama, I wish you were here. Her words had always grounded him.
He inhaled and exhaled, and then concentrated on what she might say. She’d definitely point out that since they’d already had sex this wasn’t so much of an interview as it was a get-to-know-you.
Being practical, she would have probably suggested he change his sheets in case things went into overtime. He pulled off his comforter, sheets, and pillowcases, put on fresh lavender-scented soft jersey sheets, remade his bed, and tossed the old ones into the washing machine. He made sure condoms and lube were in the top drawers of both nightstands.
Now back to his clothing. A glance at the clock helped him decide on tight black jeans and a cool tie-dyed T-shirt he’d purchased at a craft fair a few years ago. He appeared stylish but not trying too hard. As he rehung his rejected outfits, he made sure nothing else was out of place.
The doorbell rang, setting off excitement and nervousness in his body. He stepped into his Vans, which resided in the hallway. Opening the door, he let in the chilly air.
Foster wore faded blue jeans, a simple white V-neck T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. A belt looped down at an angle over his thigh. Half of his hair had been caught into a tail, which hung over the loose pieces. The combination gave a mouth-watering impression of a fairy elf trapped in the human world on the prowl, or maybe Benjamin had reread Tolkien one too many times.
“Foster, you look”—mouthwatering, hot, and perfect all came to mind, but Benjamin settled for—“really good.”
A crooked smile turned up the right side of Foster’s lips. “As do you. Very kissable, I might add.”
Benjamin leaned down in hopeful offering distance. As he inhaled, the brisk wind carried Foster’s sexy scent to him, with a combination of leather and too many other cock-hardening thrills to name.
Foster took full advantage and pulled Benjamin a little lower. Their minty breath mingled.
Swallowing down his need to rush his mouth forward, he waited.
Damn, Foster understood how to make Benjamin savor the moment and nearly die of need.
He shivered, but not from the weather. Not caring if his begging came out as a whimper, he pleaded, “Please, Foster. May I have a kiss?”
Within the next heartbeat, Foster planted his lips to Benjamin’s mouth, giving him a toe-curling kiss. All too soon he stepped back and asked, “You ready to go?”
Nodding, ’cause words weren’t happening, he stepped onto the porch.
“Benjamin, you need a coat.” It wasn’t a question.
Benjamin’s face flushed. Feeling the heat from the kiss, he’d forgotten it was winter. “Um, yeah.” He headed back in and grabbed his coat. “Do you mind if I drive? Otherwise I’ll be folded in half.” He shrugged into his leather coat and then locked the door.
“Not at all.”
Benjamin opened the passenger side of his truck.
Foster gave him a nod. “Thank you.”
Once Benjamin was in the truck, Foster asked, “Do you know where the Hong Kong Bistro is?”
“I do. It’s only a couple of minutes from here.” Benjamin adjusted the heat and pulled onto the street. He clutched the wheel tightly, and at the first stoplight, he dared a look at his passenger. “Is it warm enough for you?”
Foster patted Benjamin’s knee. “It is. Thank you for asking. You do like Chinese food, right?”
“I eat almost anything, but Chinese and Italian are my favorites. What are your favorites?” So odd that he didn’t know after… last night.
“I adore Asian foods, Middle Eastern, and of course Italian. Any food allergies I should know about?”
“Nope. You?” Benjamin pulled into the parking lot in back.
“A litany of pollens, grasses, and cats, but thankfully nothing food related.” Foster jumped out of the truck before Benjamin was able to open his door.
The restaurant was relatively uncrowded for a Friday night. They were directed to sit anywhere. Benjamin deferred to Foster.
“I think the back corner would be good.” Foster placed a hand on Benjamin’s back and guided him to the secluded booth.
The touch and guidance made Benjamin’s heart flutter happily.
The waiter handed them each a menu. Benjamin put his down.
Foster tilted his head and studied him. “You know what you want?”
“No, but would you mind ordering for me?” Maybe it was topping from the bottom, but he wanted a little of what he knew Foster could provide.
A spark of heat lit Foster’s eyes. “I’d love to.”
Yes! Benjamin was thrilled Foster didn’t mind having the lead outside of scenes. Not that he wanted to be micromanaged, but the reassurance and freedom of someone else taking the reins, even for something as simple as ordering in a restaurant, made his soul sing.
While Foster studied the menu, Benjamin got to stare at the very beautiful man in front of him. Foster appeared deceptively delicate, almost fragile, which Benjamin could counter with the experience of being maneuvered and pressed into various positions by him. Foster’s hands were soft and his nails manicured, unlike Benjamin’s. But those hands packed a real sting when applied—
Foster glanced at him from the menu with a bit of a smirk. “Like what you see?”
Caught! Benjamin might have blushed, but he nodded. “Very much.”
“Good. In terms of dinner, I suggest we start with shrimp shumai, spinach dumplings, steak with black pepper sauce, sliced chicken with snow peas, and some barbecued pork buns.”
Benjamin licked his lips. “Sounds great.”
Tilting his head, Foster asked, “Is there anything you’d like to add?”
What? He blinked a couple of times, probably looking like a cartoon character. But usually the Doms didn’t exactly ask his opinion. Even if he didn’t know them, they made a ton of assumptions, especially with something like a drink, and didn’t seem concerned at all if he were happy with the choices. Inside a scene was one thing, but since nothing was negotiated beyond, it had always felt
rather rude to him.
Foster leaned toward him. “In general, I believe it’s important to always consider what the person you’re with likes. Not to do so doesn’t instill trust. Though after I learn you better, I won’t need to ask as many questions, but right now, I’m still assessing your needs and wants.”
Benjamin touched his chest. “I appreciate your consideration, and everything you named sounds like a delicious start.”
When the waiter came over, Foster ordered all the food and then green tea for both of them.
“So, what do you do to unwind, Benjamin?” Foster gave him his undivided attention, which felt freeing and like he really cared about him.
Benjamin enjoyed how his name rolled off Foster’s tongue. “Usually I binge-watch something mindless on Netflix or read. You?”
“Same. Who are you reading?” Foster leaned forward and focused on Benjamin. The focus enthralled Benjamin. He felt like he could do anything as long as Foster was there to—
He needed to keep his head in the game and not let it wander into the joys of Foster. “Um… oh some of my favorites include Terry Pratchett, JK Rowling, George RR Martin, Tolkien.… I tend to find a series and want to relive it.”
“Those are a few of my favorites too. What do you think of Martin’s last book?” Foster sipped his tea.
“Ten years… and that’s what we get? I mean, I know it’s a lot of work, but maybe if he stopped with all the conventions… bathroom breaks and meals… are they necessary? Drink a protein shake and keep typing.”
Snorting, Foster said, “You are tough.”
“When it comes to my fantasy writers, I am. I have high expectations.” Benjamin would not front about that.
The waiter set the bamboo steamers of food along with plates on the table. He returned with a hot plate holding the steak and chicken. After refilling their teapot, he disappeared.
“May I serve you… Foster?” Benjamin’s voice wavered.
Foster’s eyes widened just a little. Benjamin would have missed it, if he hadn’t made such a study of the Master across from him.
“Yes, thank you, Benjamin. I’d appreciate that.” Foster’s voice dropped an octave.
Happiness zipped through Benjamin, sparking joy in his heart. “Some of each… Foster?”
“Please.”
Benjamin carefully spooned equal parts chicken, snow peas, and sauce onto Foster’s plate. He then added a bit from the rest of the dishes until Foster had a work of art made by dumplings, meats, and vegetables on his plate.
Foster bowed his head. “Thank you, Benjamin.”
The out-of-place formality exhilarated him and screamed that however vanilla the exchange, there would always be an undercurrent of something much more.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Benjamin picked up his chopsticks. “Do you use chopsticks?”
“I do, though sometimes I cheat and use the stab method.” Foster demonstrated by poking a dumpling with the pointy ends.
Benjamin laughed and admitted, “At times, I do too.”
“Enjoy the food.” Foster gestured to all the dishes.
Benjamin piled his plate but waited.
Foster gave him a nod of appreciation and then took his first bite. Then he dug in. They ate in silence, but their gazes seemed to keep returning and getting locked on to each other.
“Speaking of expectations, I’m assuming Sophia probably let you know I’m Pagan,” Foster stated more than asked.
“She did, after she lectured me on not having Pagandar.” Benjamin still didn’t know how to even develop such a thing—sniff the person for sage or essential oils?
Foster tilted his head. “Pagandar?”
He chuckled at Sophia’s silliness. “Pagan radar.”
Joining in the laughter, Foster said, “That’s good. She is a character.”
“Is that what you call it? She’s awesome, actually.”
Leaning forward, Foster asked, “What type of Paganism do you practice?”
For the last year, not much. He hadn’t celebrated a single tradition. “I guess eclectic. My mother wasn’t into dogma and liked to blend traditions.”
“How wonderful. In my teens, I was more Wiccan, but as I got older, I’ve become intrigued by the other facets and traditions. I’m probably more eclectic myself now. Though my family is Catholic, so I do still celebrate their holidays with them in a secular way. Keeps everyone happy.” Foster shrugged.
Benjamin had a burning need to make someone happy. It’s what he lived for, and he needed to get back to doing that. He poured Foster more tea.
“Morning person or night?” Foster kept the questions coming fast and furious. Although somehow it didn’t feel like an interview—more of a speed round of get-to-know-you.
“Definitely a morning person.”
“Good, me too. I sleep late only if I’m exhausted or ill.”
At the risk of sounding like a farmer, Benjamin added, “Yeah, I hate wasting daylight.”
Smiling at him, Foster cleared his throat. “Now I think we should discuss our sexual histories. I know Entwined covers the medical part pretty well among its members. I’ve got nothing out of the ordinary to report. I’ve played with a number of subs and have only had a couple of relationships, but I’ve always used condoms since they weren’t exclusive. I am on the HIV prevention med Truvada, you know, PrEP, and even though I started it nine months ago, I’ve only had two blowjobs, both still with condoms. I know the transmission rate through oral is low, but….” Foster shrugged and then took out a slip of paper he’d photocopied down to card size, but it clearly stated he had no STDs and was HIV negative with a date of last month.
Benjamin appreciated Foster’s willingness to share specifics, so he pulled the card he kept in his wallet and passed it over. “I’m HIV negative, I’ve never had sex, oral or otherwise, without a condom, except my first boyfriend, and we were both virgins. I’m also on Truvada.”
“Thank you for sharing, Benjamin. What are you looking for in a relationship?” Foster cut right to the chase. He hadn’t been kidding on his Entwined profile.
“A Master who dominates me with love. I eventually want to be collared and to be my Master’s one and only submissive.” Did Foster want that? Benjamin held his breath.
“Good. I don’t share.”
“I know it’s a Master’s prerogative, but you’re really not looking for more than one sub?” Some Doms liked having harems of subs, but Benjamin didn’t think he could handle the jealousy. Not very submissive of him, but there it was.
“I don’t ask for what I’m not willing to give. I want exclusivity. My desire is a connection beyond the scene, and I’m hoping for a bond that could last.”
“Oh.” Benjamin pressed his lips together so he didn’t shout out Fuck yeah!
Foster caught his gaze and asked, “Would you be interested in exploring what is between us?”
It seemed fast, but they’d known each other for a long time, just not like this. Benjamin smiled. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Good. So now that’s out of the way, what would be your perfect morning?” Foster grabbed some of his hair and twirled it around his fingers.
Oh, dear Goddess, why did that little move set Benjamin on fire? Not enough blood in his brain, so he went with blunt honesty. “Serving my Master breakfast in bed. Having him read the paper to me. Oral sex without a condom, and being given the opportunity to bathe him.”
The pork bun’s journey to Foster’s mouth stopped midway.
Did Benjamin say the wrong thing?
Foster inhaled sharply. “Could you be any more perfect?”
Shivering, Benjamin couldn’t hide his happy grin. Everything between them felt good and so right it might be terrifying, but Foster was there, steady as a rock.
BENJAMIN WAS surprised when Foster invited him out to a dance club and not to Entwined. He used to come here in his twenties. The Pump House always had the hottest DJ in the Capital D
istrict, and getting or giving head was never a problem.
Foster helped Benjamin off with his coat and then handed their leather jackets to the coat clerk. As he waited for the claim ticket, he whispered into Benjamin’s ear, “I can’t wait to dance with you.”
The coat clerk handed Foster the ticket. “Here you go, sweetness. I’m versatile, so if either of you or both of you want my number, let me know.”
“I think not.” Foster glared and snatched the ticket. He took Benjamin’s hand and led him into the main room.
There stood the same bar, with stools sitting in front of a mirrored wall. Scarred wooden tables with chairs tucked under them were scattered around a crowded dance floor. The music was so loud the bass thumped right through Benjamin. The air, scented with hope, potential, and a ton of testosterone, encompassed him, making wishes and dreams seem possible.
Foster zigzagged around the tables and jumped into the fray. He waved his hands over his head and twitched his ass to the beat. His long hair swirled around him, following his movements, which were graceful and fluid, as he mouthed the words to the song.
“I almost don’t recognize you,” Benjamin told him as he moved to the music.
Foster grabbed Benjamin’s hand, twirled, and secured it behind his back. He tugged him down so Benjamin’s back arched and his mouth was near Benjamin’s ear. “Recognize me now, Benjamin?”
Benjamin moaned, and he closed his eyes, savoring the rough but careful handling. The feeling of being physically controlled hardened his cock. His “Yes, Master” came out all breathy, but it couldn’t be helped.
Easing his arm back, Foster rubbed Benjamin’s shoulder. “I do like knowing you can handle what I can give.”
“I want to take everything you want to give.” Benjamin’s mouth might be writing a check he couldn’t cash, but he trusted Foster would never take more than he had to offer.
“Let’s get a drink. What will you have?” Foster asked as he guided them toward the bar.
“A beer, any will do. I’ll grab that table.” Benjamin pointed to a quieter table closest to the front window. The neon sign reflected in the cars parked on the street.