by Ts McKinney
“Do you like looking at my cock, Sweet Tart?” Seth asked as he kept stroking the hard length in a lazy, seductive movement.
I watched his hand, reminding myself of a cat watching one of those laser lights people bought to capture their attention. He’d definitely captured mine. Like the cat, I wanted to pounce on him—to knock his hands out of the way and let me play with his toy. How had he done this to me in such a short period of time? How would I ever be able to walk away when he was finished with me?
“I think you do like watching me,” he said. “I bet you’ve gotten so entranced with watching me touch myself that you’ve forgotten all about having something stuffed in your ass, haven’t you?”
Fuck, I had forgotten. The burn had vanished, and the fullness didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming to my senses. Apparently, my ass and Seth’s toy had decided to make nice and become friends after all.
With the hand not stroking his cock, he showed me a small remote. “This controls the toy inside of you. In a few seconds, I’m going to turn the stimulator on and, to be honest with you, fireworks are going to go off inside of you. Let me see if I can explain this in a way you might understand,” he said quietly, still stroking. “Being straight and all, you’ve tongued and fingered a woman’s clit, haven’t you? Yeah, I bet you have. Remember how it makes them scream and dig their claws into your back? That little nub of nerves inside of you is like your clit…and I’m going to make you scream.”
There was absolutely no need to bring up the straight part—he was just being an ass. I was pretty sure I’d made it crystal clear that straight couldn’t be an adjective for me any longer. A straight guy wouldn’t enjoy this as much as I did. A straight guy wouldn’t want to suck Seth’s cock so badly that it was starting to piss me off that I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure what I was, but it wasn’t one hundred percent straight.
I was one hundred percent falling head over ass for Agent Seth Wilkinson. I felt like as long as Seth thought of me as straight, he wouldn’t take anything we were doing seriously.
“This is how this is going to work. I’m going to play with this remote until you give me two good orgasms. Understand?”
Two orgasms? Without anybody touching my cock? We were going to be here all fucking day.
“Jingle your bell to show me you understand and agree,” he ordered.
I jingled the bell in my hand. Who was I to question His Royal Highness? He’d have to learn this one the hard way.
“Good. Let’s have some fun then, shall we, Sweet Tart,” he said, and I watched his finger push something on the remote.
The toy inside me came to life—not wildly fluttering like I’d thought, but more of a thump, thump, thump. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t exactly good. It was just…there. I found more pleasure in looking at Seth stroke his cock. His hand moved faster up and down his length and the tempo of the vibration inside my ass sped up to match his pace.
“You’re beautiful, Baker,” he whispered. “Your submission is…intoxicating. If I’m not very careful, you could become a drug to me—a habit I might never be able to overcome.”
I wanted to answer—to ask him what he meant, he hit another button on the remote and the nerves inside my ass literally exploded with pleasure. My body jerked and tried to twist away—the sensations were too much. The toy bumped against my prostate for several minutes and then it changed to a purr. Yes, a purr was the only way I could describe it. My cock was so hard it ached. It dripped. It twitched. My balls were tight and begged for release. I couldn’t do anything to escape the exquisite torture. I tried to scream but it came out as a muffled moan. I was happy, then angry. Frustrated, and then soaring. There was a good chance I might have been crying.
“Easy, Sweet Tart,” his husky voice said. “Focus on me. Look at my cock. Watch me touch myself. Imagine it’s my cock inside of you, pounding your prostate with every thrust. Do you see how badly I want you? Can you see what you do to me?”
I felt…hypnotized. I just couldn’t tell if it was the purring in my ass, his dirty talk, or watching him play with his own cock that controlled my body. All those things together were stimulation beyond what I could handle. It was all too much, yet not enough.
“Watch me, Baker. You come when I come. Understood?”
My motions were frantic and clumsy. I tried to shake my head, but the straps wouldn’t allow it, so I jingled the bell wildly. I heard him roar and saw the cum spurt from his cock. My own cock answered as one of the most intense orgasms of my life ripped through my body. I hadn’t thought it would be possible to come without being touched. Naturally, Seth had proven me wrong. My white spunk coated the floor beneath me. I didn’t give a fuck. What was important was that Seth’s cum painted my face.
With my heart pounding wildly in my chest, I struggled for air, fighting the ball gag fitted into my mouth. Seth moved with lightning speed. One second he was still fisting his cock and the next he was on his feet in front of me, releasing the strap that held the ball gag in my mouth. As soon as he tossed it aside, I took a deep breath of sweet, sweet air. Then another. And another. While I did that, Seth tenderly rubbed the side of my face and urged me to take deep steady breaths.
As soon as the panic left my poor lungs, I took advantage of Seth standing in front of me. , I used my tongue and licked clean some of the cum from his lower stomach. I heard him hiss in pleasure but then he took a fistful of my hair and stopped me from continuing to lap at his skin like a cat licking cream.
“What in the hell are you doing, Baker?” he asked. His voice sounded…shocked.
“Tasting you,” I answered and tried to escape the hold he had on me so I could sneak another swipe. His fist held tight.
“Tasting me,” he said softly. His tone was laced with disbelief.
Several seconds passed and I supposed he was trying to figure out what to do with me. I had a feeling that Seth was rarely surprised. I’d like to think I’d done nothing but surprise him since we’d met. I sure the fuck had surprised myself.
Finally, he said, “I’m very disappointed in you, Baker. You were clearly struggling to breathe, but you didn’t drop the bell like I’d told you to.” His hand swiped along my cheek, wiping some of his cum onto a finger. The hand that was fisted in my hair forced my head up to where I was looking up at him. His eyes were dark—the pupils blown. Very slowly, he placed the coated finger against my lips and I sucked his finger inside my mouth, cleaning the cum away and swallowing it. My eyes never left his. His never left mine.
In that moment, something inside me shifted. I belonged to Seth…whether he wanted me or not.
“That made me very happy, Baker. Because you pleased me so much, I won’t discipline you for not dropping the bell. If it happens again, I’ll put a cock cage on you and the only way you’ll empty your balls will be when I milk them.” He patted my head and stepped away. “And trust me on this, you won’t enjoy being milked. What would you like to say to me?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I answered obediently. Then I smiled and said, “You taste good—kinda sweet and tart. Maybe I should call you Sweet Tart instead of the other way around?”
He took his cock in hand, which was already hard again, came forward and smacked me across the face with it. Twice.
“You’re very naughty, Baker. One of these days, I might just decide to fuck some of that naughtiness out of you.” He stepped back again and pushed the lever that caused the table to flip upright again.
“Promises, promises,” I muttered as the table slowly shifted into place.
When all the movement stopped, he started disassembling the part that he’d placed over my stomach. “Did you enjoy your first encounter with a prostate stimulator?” he asked as he worked on the table.
“It was…intense, ya know? Almost too much pleasure,” I answered truthfully. “There was no way I ever thought I could come without somebody touching me, but you managed to make a liar out of me.” He continued to work on the table. “It was exhau
sting. How long was it before I…you know? It seemed like hours. Fuck, now that I think about it, your toy was more torture than pleasure.”
“Really? Hmmmm,” he murmured as he added a part to each side of the table. The new sections went behind both of my knees and when he hit another button on the table, it started moving the new pieces further back. And further. And fucking further. Before he stopped the machine, my knees were nearly flat against my chest.
He glanced down at his watch and said, “Well, Baker, that only took you about nine minutes. It may have felt like hours, but it was really just a short nine minutes.” He smiled down at me and added, “But the first one is always the fastest. The second orgasm takes much longer.”
“Second? What? No, you’re kidding, right?” I nearly shrieked in alarm.
He shook his head from side to side. Then the thumping started.
********
Seth
His second orgasm had taken thirty-seven minutes and he’d called me every dirty name in the book. Three times. Oh, and either he spoke several languages, or he’d made up new curse words to call me, I wasn’t sure which it was. He was so fucking cute when he was sexually frustrated. Fifteen minutes had passed, and he was still sipping at the bottle of water I’d given him. His eyes shot poison darts in my direction. I’d released his wrists and put the exam table back into a more comfortable position, but left his ankles secured into the stirrups.
I fiddled with the two remaining toys on my cart and ignored his death ray glare. “You know, I can’t believe such ugly words could come from such sweet lips, Baker. I’m shocked at some of the things you had to say. You could have simply dropped the bell or said your safe word and it would have all ended immediately.”
“Fuck you, Seth,” he snapped. “Fuck you. Fuck your daddy. And fuck your mommy. Fuck the whole fucking family.” Like the fuck word wasn’t enough, he flipped me a bird.
“Are you angry?”
This time, he had to bite back a grin. “You know that was torture, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware,” I answered.
“You could have touched my cock and helped a guy out, you know. Hell, you could have simply waved a hand over it, and I would have shot my load. But, would you? Noooooo!” He drew the word out into three syllables. “You have an evil streak in you at least a mile long.”
“Thank you,” I answered pleasantly. He rolled his eyes. “Are you ready to continue? You still have two more of my beautiful toys to try out today.” I pulled my chair around to sit it in front of him again. “Just let me know when you’re good to go.”
Even in his exhausted state, he was able to narrow his eyes and glare at me. I watched him take several more sips of the water and noted just how incredibly sexy he could make that simple gesture appear. Every move Baker made enticed me to imagine doing wicked things to his body.
He held the empty bottle of water out to me and said, “Bring it.”
Well, I had to give him a good solid ‘A’ for enthusiasm and pure grit. We’d see what kind of grade I gave him after his next test. “Would you like to select the next toy, or shall I?” I asked sweetly. “You remember what two to choose from, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he answered in what I guess sounded like a nonchalant, bored voice. He’d failed.
“Let’s go with the ball thingie. I can do that one with no problem.”
He was even cuter when he tried to be cocky. I pulled the black silicone anal ball dildo from beneath the white sheet. It was twelve inches in length and comprised of different sized round balls, the first one being about the size of a pinball and gradually moving to the size of a ball used with pool tables and ending with one the size of a softball. The toy was certainly for a very experienced, well-stretched man or, more often than not, given as a gag gift at parties. I held it in front of him and reassured his worries with, “Don’t worry, I’ll use plenty of lube.”
His eyes widened into silver dollars and the bell dropped from his hand at the same time he squeaked out, “Rainbow.”
I smiled. He’d done well with his second test. I needed to trust he would safe word me if I put him into a position he wasn’t comfortable with. “Well done, Sweet Tart,” I told him as I sat the toy back onto the cart and then carefully removed the stimulator still buried in his ass. He moaned and hissed as I pulled it free. I gave his ass a friendly pat and then moved to release him from the exam table. As I began unfastening the restraints at his ankles, I said, “You’ve done well today, Baker. You made me very proud.”
“Thank you, Sir,” he murmured. “Are we finished?”
“Yes, you’ve had more than enough for today. Stand up for me. Slowly, Baker. Your body has been through a myriad of feelings and emotions. You’ll probably feel somewhat lightheaded.”
“I…I thought we were doing more, though,” he said as he put his feet on the floor and moved slowly, like I’d requested.
When I saw his body sway, I said, “Don’t be greedy, Baker. Who knows your body even better than you?”
“My Dom, Sir,” he answered meekly. Disappointment simmered in his blue eyes—which he could barely hold open.
“Correct. Now, stop whining.” I bent over slightly so I could get a comfortable handle and then tossed him over my shoulder. He yelped in alarm and I answered it with a firm swat to his ass. “Behave!”
“What in the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “I can walk, you know.”
“It’s my decision whether you walk, or I carry you. Hush.” I crossed the room and reached for the door handle. About that same time, his hand caressed my ass.
“What would you do if I spanked this ass the way you do mine?” he asked, still dangling upside down…rubbing his hand up and down my ass.
Smiling, I opened the door and said, “Do you really want to find out, Baker?”
My words must have scared him enough because his hand suddenly withdrew. I missed the touch. It had felt so…intimate. I forced thoughts of Baker along with intimacy out of my head—those two didn’t mix. They couldn’t mix. Baker was simply experimenting. I, on the other hand, was gay for life.
I strode through the apartment, pushed the button that opened the balcony doors, and then carried him outside. Sitting him down next to the hot tub, I said, “Climb in. You need to relax. I’m going to grab you something else to drink and then order some take out for us to eat.”
Since it was mid—day, the Miami sun was high and hot. Thankfully, the balcony was equipped with fans that circulated cool air. The hot tub would be exactly what Baker needed to help him relax after our playtime. I couldn’t call it a scene anymore—that sounded too fake. What we would do at the club two nights away would be a scene…maybe. Hell, I wasn’t even certain I could allow another person to see Baker naked. Somehow, my warped mind had determined he belonged to me…only me.
I ordered us some Chinese to have delivered and grabbed a couple bottles of water for each of us. I’d worry about my new-found streak of possessiveness later. Right now, I needed to keep my focus on ensuring Baker received proper aftercare. We had the rest of the evening to relax. Well, Baker could relax. I intended to glean every single detail about his life that he would share. No, I shouldn’t want to know more, but knowing it was dangerous to my wellbeing did absolutely nothing to stop me.
As soon as I stepped out on the balcony, he said, “Please tell me you ordered Chinese. I love Chinese—any and everything. I’m not picky.” His head was relaxed against the back of the tub and he turned in my direction. “I think I earned it.”
I snorted. “I think you earned a punishment for nearly choking yourself to death and not dropping your bell like you were supposed to.” I handed him a water and climbed onto one of the lounge chairs. There was no point in getting wet when I would have to answer the door to get our delivery sometime in the next thirty minutes.
I wasn’t looking in his direction but could feel him staring at me.
“Nope,” he countered, ma
king an exaggerated popping sound at the end of the word. “I was forgiven that slip-up when I tasted your cum. Remember?”
Water spewed out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe he’d said it. Here. Outside of the playroom—outside the throes of passion. I turned to look at him. He was smiling, looking rather smug with himself, as a matter of fact. He was gorgeous.
“I doubt I’ll ever forget it,” I answered truthfully.
“Me either.”
With that admission, he looked away and silence broadened the distance between us. What was he thinking? Regrets? More curiosity? Repulsion? Fear that someone might find out? There were so many possibilities, I didn’t have a clue which direction his mind traveled.
After a few uncomfortable minutes, he said, “What’s your favorite color?”
Before I’d met Baker, it had been green. “Blue,” I answered. The color of his eyes was my new favorite crayon color. “Yours?”
“Gold.”
Gold? Not what I expected. At all.
“Favorite sport?” I asked, keeping the question game moving.
“College football,” he answered quickly. “Not pros—those guys are only in it for the money. I’m all about the college football. Roll Tide.” He grinned and asked, “Your favorite sport? And, for the purposes of this game only, we’ll assume that ass spanking is not a sport. Agreed?”
“Ha—ha,” I mocked. “Professional football. Looks like we might have a problem, Sweet Tart.”
“First of all, there’s no problem, college football is on Saturday and the pros play on Sunday—no television argument to be had. Secondly, why in the hell have you settled on Sweet Tart? Yes, I hated Boy, but Sweet Tart? Really?”
“Don’t dis my nicknaming ability. You’re a little sweet and a lot tart. When I think back to that first day we met, when you acted so sweet and submissive, I can’t believe I fell for that act. You’re nothing but pure sass.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. You seem to bring the sass out of me. My Mistress never provoked those tart responses.”