by JD Chambers
“And did you?” My voice has lowered at least one octave, though it’s still not back to normal.
“Kind of. I met a guy who directed me to the Denver group I mentioned. He had played in the kink before, but it wasn’t his specialty.”
“What was his specialty?”
“Ropes.”
And my brain fritzes out again.
“Uh.”
Arthur laughs and squeezes my hands that I just now realize he’s still holding.
“Is that a good ‘uh’ or a bad ‘uh’?”
“Good.” My voice cracks on the single word. I hadn’t considered ropes before, but now, thinking about Arthur and his big hands, wrapping me up exactly how he wants me … Hngh.
“I think I know what date number four is going to be,” Arthur says, releasing one hand to put down money for the dinner. We already had the “who pays” argument, and I paid for the movie in exchange for him getting dinner. “And it is definitely going to be nontraditional.”
It’s a good thing someone screeches “Welcome to the Jungle” behind us, because the whimper that comes out of my mouth is not quiet.
Arthur grabs my hand and leads me out of the restaurant and to his car. Instead of opening the door for me, he crowds me until my back is pressed against it, and mouths at my neck.
“This bare neck has been driving me crazy all night,” he says, his words feathering against my skin, and I shiver. My hands clutch at his perfect shirt, inflicting wrinkles as I pull him into me, like I could meld us together through our clothes.
“It needs a permanent reminder of who you are, don’t you think?”
He bites at the sensitive pulse point on my neck, and instead of an answer, I gasp.
“Take me home,” I manage to get out between pants. “I want my dessert.”
10
Arthur
“I didn’t get to taste you last time,” Dave says as soon as we’re safely in his apartment. “I want to taste you.”
He drops to his knees halfway between the kitchen and the living room and nuzzles the crotch of my pants. Every other experience I’ve ever had is suddenly erased from memory by the eager, pleading look of the man at my feet. I can tell he wants to go for it, but he holds off, waiting for permission.
When my belt buckle clacks against the ground, surrounded by my pants pooled at my feet, Dave sighs with relief.
“Fuck,” he groans, still nuzzling, but this time his nose goes for the crease between my thigh and balls, like he needs my scent to go on.
A wet tongue traces the crease and begins to lap over my sac, covering me in saliva and causing pearls of precum to bead the tip of my dick. A tiny flicker of tongue laps up the drops, then sucks my head inside his perfect mouth, sucking like he wants to pull more out of me.
Dave’s tongue winds around my shaft, wetting it like he did my balls, so that he can take more of me in. Little by little, his lips stretch as my dick disappears behind them. I wonder if he’s going to be able to take the whole thing in, when his throat pushes against me and I hear him gag.
I try to push him back, even though the sound made me impossibly harder, but Dave reaches behind me to clasp my thighs, and shoves himself even farther. His throat convulses repeatedly, and saliva drips down my cock, down my balls, onto my pants on the ground.
Finally, he pulls back and looks up at me. Tears stream down his face and saliva glistens on his chin, but his smile is everything.
“Get naked for me. Now.” Dave rises and does what he’s told. “Then I want you on your bed, on your hands and knees.” His fingers tremble so much he can’t get his pants undone. I long to step in and help him, but I want to see him complete my orders even more.
While he struggles, I fish out a condom from my wallet and toss it next to the bed. When he finally joins me, I ask where he keeps his lube, and he directs me to his bedside table. He sets himself in the position I asked for, his beautiful ass facing me.
I squeeze out a drop of slick and circle Dave’s hole with the pad of my finger.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, pup, and for every answer, you get a finger. Do you think you can handle that?”
Dave’s whole body wiggles as he nods, distracting me for a moment with all the beautiful, jiggling flesh on display.
“Words, Dave. I’m going to need you to respond with words for this. Okay?”
“Y-yes.”
I rub long strokes with my other hand, up and down his spine, while my finger continues tapping and circling his hole. “Good boy.”
“You are interested in the ropes. What is it that you like about them?”
Dave doesn’t answer right away, but I continue with my pets, giving him time to formulate his thoughts.
“They look safe. Comforting. Like you’re wrapped around me, even when you’re not.”
It’s a struggle to keep my breath from shaking. I add more lube to his hole, and gently push. He relaxes immediately and lets me in and I coat his insides with the slick, before finding a slow and even pace to stroke inside him.
“Thank you for answering me, Dave. You’re doing so good. And you gave such a good answer.”
With every word of praise uttered, I feel his muscles soften like butter under my hands.
“Now then. I mentioned getting training on ropes and also the pet and handlers group. I want to make sure that you’re actually okay with doing both and not just humoring me. Would you like for us to meet with Charles so that I can learn how to tie you up and make you feel safe?”
Dave nods and I have to remind him to use his words again.
“Yes.” His voice comes out so strained it sounds as if it might snap at any moment. My dick is right there with him. But I want to make sure I’m taking good care of him, and that’s more important than my aching cock.
“And what about going to pup training or puppy play events? Would you like that?”
Dave’s breath rasps against the sheets, but I’m so proud when he manages to speak.
“And there would be other puppies there? People like me?”
“Yes. And maybe some ponies or kitties, but from what I saw on their website, it’s mostly puppies.”
“Yes,” he says with effort. “I want that.”
I add more lube and another finger, and Dave moans at the stretch.
“Thank you for answering. You’re such a good boy. You’re doing so well.”
He whimpers at every stroke now, and I know I need to speed up my questioning because he’s not going to last much longer.
“Final question, Dave, and then you get three fingers. Do you know what happens after I have three fingers inside you?”
“Is that the final question?” Dave pants.
I smack his ass, taking delight in the way it bounces against my palm. “Cheeky.”
I don’t think he could hear my admonishment though, because a groan rips through him at the spanking.
“Final question. Do you enjoy pain?”
I keep the rhythm of my two fingers stroking inside him, but crook them to graze his prostrate. His mouth was open to answer, but he wails instead.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”
Under normal circumstances, Dave would glare or have some sort of retort ready for my torture, but instead he licks his lips and tries again.
“A little. Not too much. Pets. I like pets. Maybe a little sting. Not pain.” He babbles the words, but his comprehension is still impressive. I must not be torturing him enough.
I’ve already got the third finger lubed up and ready when I add it to the others.
“So good, baby. You did so good answering my questions. Are you ready for me to fuck you?”
“Yessss.”
I really should have had the condom ready to go. Mental note for next time, but on the plus side, I get to watch his hole twitch, searching for something to wrap around after my fingers have left it empty and wanting. Quickly, I get my cock ready and press at his entrance.
Once I’m fully seated within him, I pick up my pace, giving him longer and harder thrusts, until the room is filled with the sounds of our slapping skin and our combined moans.
My lips nip and suck every inch of skin in front of them, until I reach the edge and bite down as I fill the condom deep inside of him. Dave’s wails fill the air, and he clenches around me as he finds his own release onto the sheets below him.
I wrap my arm around his chest and pull him back with me as I roll to the side, keeping him out of his mess, but letting our limbs rest. Mine are feeling particularly wobbly at the moment.
My hands haven’t gotten the message that we’re spent and sated. They still pet and stroke every available inch of his skin. He feels so good under my fingertips, I don’t want to stop touching him.
“Mmm. You’re keeping me,” he slurs as he snuggles impossibly closer.
“I thought we’d already established that,” I say, repeating a conversation that we’ve had already, but he was correct before. He can never have enough positive reinforcement, and I’m happy to make sure my puppy knows where he belongs.
11
Dave
“The Longmont Historical Society’s annual spring fling is next weekend. I expect you to be there. Emily has agreed to be your date.”
“Hello to you too, Mother.” I flop back onto the bed, covering my face and phone with a pillow. Maybe if she can’t hear me, she’ll go away.
“You missed the Easter egg hunt to benefit the parks. I thought you’d at least show up for the children.”
“You can’t guilt me, Mom. I told you I wasn’t going to any of Dad’s events, and I meant it.”
“If you miss the spring fling, you won’t only be disappointing me and your father, you’ll be disappointing Emily as well.”
“After meeting me, I don’t think Emily will be too disappointed.”
“She had nothing but nice things to say about you,” Mom says, tutting over the phone. I can only imagine her pacing back and forth in the sun room right now, like she always does when she’s on an especially trying phone call. She reclines in the chaise by the bar for the easy ones.
“That’s because she’s nice and smart enough to know not to tell her boss’ wife that their son essentially called her out for her worthless existence and shallow life goals.”
“You didn’t.”
“Not exactly. I think I was at least polite about it.”
“David.” Her tone reminds me so much of high school, and how I seemed to do nothing but cause her stress and disappointment.
My stomach growls, so I get up to scrounge for a snack. This is my Friday off, which allows me to prepare for my date this evening with Arthur. In the meantime, I’ve been obsessively cleaning and pacing. Oh, and cleaning my apartment too. I hadn’t realized I’d worked up such an appetite, so I put my mom on speaker and head to the kitchen to see if I have any decent apples left.
“What? When are you going to learn that I’m not going to change? This is who I am. It will be so much easier if you deal with the disappointment all at once and then move on, instead of this vain hope that sets you up for disappointment month after month.”
Mom sighs. “I’ll have to talk to Sawyer. See if he’ll agree to be her backup date if you insist on abandoning us. I can’t believe you would say those things. That poor girl.”
“She learned to play golf, just because Dad recommended it. If I needed any gigantic waving red flags, that right there would have been it. Not to mention the fact that she looks like a younger version of you. Seriously, Mom. I’m not going to be interested in, uh, getting intimate with someone who looks just like you. That’s creepy.”
“Don’t be disgusting, Dave.”
“Well, you’re the one trying to set us up. What were you hoping would happen?”
I find an apple in the back of the crisper that still looks decent and give it a good wash.
“That you would court her and then be a gentleman and wait until you were married before you took that step.”
“Really? Okay. Well, let’s pretend that happens, unlike in the history of ever, and then where would we be? I’d be stuck, married to a woman who looks like my mom, and who I couldn’t get it up for. Great plan!”
“Really, David, you have gotten so vulgar since you moved away from home.”
My first bite into the apple reverberates into the phone.
Mom sighs again. “I don’t know where I went wrong. Just think about it. It would mean so much to your father and me if you came. Bye, dear.”
The phone call ends, which is fine, because I know it wouldn’t have done any good to reiterate, yet again, that I will not be attending any of Dad’s events. Maybe I should change my phone number? My name? No, that would just be mean. It isn’t that I don’t love my mom, just that I wish she’d find another hobby. Gentrify Dave isn’t working. Get Judge Steven S. Taylor elected to the Senate probably is working, but at the expense of all of our sanities.
Thank god Arthur arrives soon. With her complaints and admonishment stuck in my head, my resulting mood is not how I had hoped to start the evening.
Even though it’s hard to coordinate our schedules, Arthur still managed to get us a rope session with Charles a few afternoons after our movie date. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Charles was patient and kind and spent time really talking through everything, not just showing us a few knots that I barely remembered from Boy Scouts. Somehow, I don’t think Mr. Walters had BDSM in mind when I first learned what a bight was or how to tie a square knot. Unfortunately, gaming parties and my typical late shifts have prevented us from trying out Arthur’s new skills until two weekends later. I’ve been so excited for this night, and I refuse to let a phone call from my mom ruin it.
Arthur arrives an hour later loaded down with bags of newly acquired goodies, that he won’t let me peek at, and dinner. As soon as he sets the bags down in the kitchen, my arms snake around his waist as tight as I can make them. Fuck, I missed him. Sure, we talk on the phone and text every day, but seeing him puts my whole being at ease.
“Hey, Puppy. Are you okay?” Arthur’s hand comes up to run through my hair, resting behind my neck and tickling the longer strands behind my ear. Every piece of me melts into him.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize how tense I was. Letting go is almost painful.”
Arthur, hulk of a man that he is, picks me up by the backs of my thighs and carries me over to the couch. Our lips meet in a hungry kiss that’s over far too quickly.
“Food first,” Arthur says while adjusting himself. “We can talk about what you want tonight while we eat.”
Arthur makes himself at home in my kitchen. The sink runs in the background, and I hear him shuffling through drawers and cabinets. He returns with waters and a stack of napkins before making a quick return for the food.
“What has you so stressed? Work?”
“No, it’s my parents. They want me to move back to Longmont and finish school. They wanted me to be a lawyer, and eventually a judge, like my dad. And now that he’s seriously considering a senate run in a couple of years, they’re trying to re-groom me into the perfect son. And that’s totally not who I am.”
Arthur grabs a little white container and pulls me into his side. I curl my knees behind me, causing gravity to pull me even closer. “I don’t think it’s so much that you aren’t the perfect son, but that you aren’t the perfect son for their hyper-specific perfect son requirements. Any parents would be lucky to have you.”
My head falls against his shoulder as I wish life could be so simple. “Really? Are you looking
forward to introducing me to your parents? A video game store clerk?”
Arthur grabs a piece of chicken between his fingers and raises it to my lips, and I take the bite without a second thought. It’s from a place where I often get takeout, but somehow from Arthur’s fingers, it tastes so much better. My muscles ease as Arthur takes care of me in every possible way. I would never have imagined being fed would feel so comforting.
“I don’t know why people get so caught up in jobs and money and titles. Are you a good person? That should be the most important factor.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not. And it never will be. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring down the evening.”
Another piece of chicken touches my lips, and I nip it from his fingers. The sauce hangs on my lips, so I lick them clean. Arthur’s nostrils flare, but he continues with our dinner as if it weren’t the most arousing meal either of us has ever had.
“You didn’t. I want to hear about what’s happening with you. The good and the bad.”
He feeds me several more bites in silence before picking up chopsticks to feed himself.
“She’s constantly trying to set me up with women from their social circle, hoping it will draw me back home. My mother, that is.”
He gathers a bite of rice and I can tell his mouth is full, even though with my head against him like this I can’t see it, when he asks, “Do they not know you’re gay?”
“I’m bi, but no. There was never a need to tell them before you. Honestly, I try to talk to them as little as possible. God, I’m fucking maudlin tonight. I really needed this.” Needed you, I think but don’t have the courage to say.
Another bite of chicken appears in front of my mouth and I sigh around the bite. Arthur impressively hand-feeds me rice next and manages to keep a large clump together from the container to my outstretched tongue.
“Then I’m glad to be here. Do you want to go over the plan for tonight?”