by AE Lister
“I’ll try it.”
“Okay.” I held it out for him to look at again. “I have powder blue because the women I used to play with liked pastels. Anyway, it matches your underwear. Open.”
He parted his lips and I inserted the rubber cock into his mouth, feeling a little shiver go up my spine. Because, wow, I almost wished I had a real cock to put in there. Except, he might not have wanted that. Anyway, I liked what I did have and he’d get plenty of that in his face eventually.
I fastened the gag behind his head and pulled back to check things out. His eyes were wide and his pupils blown. I think he likes it.
“Thumbs-up or thumbs-down?” I asked.
He bent his elbow and gave me a big thumbs-up.
“I thought so,” I said, stroking his hair, which was soft and slightly curly. He was just so handsome. I felt sorry for his ex that she hadn’t done some research and tried to give him this. She had really missed out. “You look beautiful, Vincent.”
His eyes closed and he made a soft noise that sounded delicious around the gag.
“If you need to safeword, I want you to shake your head quickly from side-to-side. Got it?”
He nodded.
I picked up something else from the coffee table. “I’m going to blindfold you now.”
He looked at me, then at the piano keys, then back at me, his eyebrows raised.
“I’ll put your hands in the right place and you will do your scales from memory. You don’t need to see the keys.”
He didn’t seem convinced but bobbed his head.
With the black leather blindfold on, he looked even better—subdued, put in his place, mine. Mine to do with as I pleased. And what I pleased was to have him learn the piano.
I placed his hands where they needed to go on the keys and had him practice scales and chords with the blindfold on.
He did very well. He had a feel as well as an ear for it.
“That’s very good. You’re a natural, Vincent.”
He glowed under my praise. I leaned in and tickled his earlobe with the tip of my tongue. “You get a reward.”
I took his hand in mine and led him to my bedroom where I removed his blindfold while he blinked like a confused puppy. God he was adorable. And, yeah, puppy. Maybe we could get into that someday.
“I’m going to undress you, okay?”
He nodded vigorously and tried to smile but he couldn’t because of the penis gag, which made me smile.
I got him to bend so I could remove his sweater, revealing a white T-shirt that I took off, and there was the baby-blue camisole which looked lovely, but I divested him of that as well.
“I want access to those nipples,” I explained.
He shuddered.
Then, his pants. My heart started thudding as he became more and more naked. He really did things to me. His submission did things to me. All of it. He was the whole package. And, speaking of packages…
When he stepped out of his jeans, he looked magnificent in the blue panties, his cock pressed against his belly, the shiny tip almost pushing past the waistband. Maybe we should have bought a size larger. No, this was perfect.
“Your cock looks amazing under that lace,” I told him. “Now, turn around and lean over my desk.”
I was a stickler for neatness, so the surface was relatively free of clutter. There was plenty of room for a woman or man’s bare torso. I had made sure of that when I’d bought it. The wood surface had been polished to a sheen and would feel good on Vincent’s skin.
He looked at the desk then moved into position, leaning his upper body on it. It was a fairly high surface. The women I’d had here had needed to be on tiptoe to do this. It was the perfect height for Vincent.
I walked over to the dresser that stored my bedroom kink supplies and opened the second drawer, taking out a length of soft red rope.
“I’m going to bind your wrists, now,” I said, taking his right hand and moving it to his lower back. I brought the other hand down and looped the rope around his wrists several times. I stepped back and took a look at my handsome boy bent over in the pretty blue panties, gagged and with his wrists tied together.
Now that was art.
“Everything okay, Vincent?”
His cheek pressed against the surface of the desk and he nodded, glancing at me quickly.
“The rope’s not too tight?” I checked.
He shook his head once.
“Good. I’m going to reward you for a productive practice session at the piano. It’s going to feel really good, but I don’t want you to come. Understand?”
He huffed, but dipped his head.
“Good boy. You are my very good boy, aren’t you, Vincent?”
His eyes closed and he made a soft sound. I knew he would try hard to be good for me.
I placed my hands on his lace-covered butt cheeks, pressing and stroking, feeling the firmness under the delicate fabric. I pressed upward and outward in a circular motion so that his ass spread as I brought my hands around, then squeezed tight, then spread, then squeezed.
Vincent moaned.
I did this for a bit, then took hold of the waistband of his panties and slid them down to the top of his thighs, giving his ass a good slap. I couldn’t wait to give him a thorough over-the-lap spanking, but not yet. I would savor the anticipation instead.
As I snaked my thumb along the crack of his ass, pushing between his cheeks, I wondered if he’d ever been rimmed? I was sure Daphne’d never rimmed him. Daphne didn’t have sexual contact with her clients. She dominated men for money, but she didn’t consider herself a sex worker. Sure, she made them come like gangbusters, when they were allowed, but she didn’t give or receive oral and she didn’t have intercourse with them.
I had the luxury of doing whatever the fuck I wanted with Vincent, as long as he consented to it, precisely because he wasn’t my ‘client’ and he wasn’t paying me. We were developing a close friendship as far as I was concerned and I thought I could get as close as I wanted. And at that moment, despite my previous reluctance, I wanted to get really, really close.
“Do you know what rimming is, Vincent?” I said, pushing my thumb against his hole. I felt him clench, his gasp muffled by the gag. Honestly, in the Internet age, was there anyone who didn’t know what rimming was?
He groaned.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I liked the fact that I could do things to him that Daphne’d never done, because I was sure she’d done things that I’d never do because they were beyond my hard limits but not Daphne’s—and maybe not Vincent’s. We needed to actually sit down and discuss what he and Daphne had done, just so I had all the information and knew his likes and dislikes.
I spread his cheeks to take a good look at him. He whimpered and shifted as if he were trying to get away from me. Good luck.
“Be still. I want to look.”
Another whimper. I glanced at his face. His eyes had closed and his cheeks were scarlet. He looked so hot with the gag on.
“Does this embarrass you, Vincent? The fact that I want a good look at your asshole?”
He huffed out a laugh and nodded, while I traced my finger down his crack and teased his rim. There was fine dark hair along the sides, as there should be, but his hole looked clean and delicate.
“In a few weeks when I do this again, you won’t even care, except to be excited. I’m going to get you very used to being examined everywhere.”
He legit groaned. His ass clenched and released while I watched. Oh, he liked that idea, as much as this first exam had made him cringe. He had said he was into medical play.
“You know, if I’m going to play with you, I have to make sure you’re healthy and fit, and that your skin”—I traced my finger around his anus while he struggled to stay still—“isn’t broken or damaged. This is very important from a safety perspective.”
Which was true, actually. But, just as I’d suspected, he was unblemished in this particular spot. No signs of hemor
rhoids or infections. “And, lucky for us both, you’re in excellent shape here.” I ran my finger down his perineum and cupped his balls in my hand. They were heavy and warm.
He sighed.
He smelled of soap and a little of sweat, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was musky and natural and heady. I leaned closer and blew on his asshole.
He jerked and whimpered. I held his cheeks apart and did it again. He moaned. Then I stretched him apart wider and ran the flat of my tongue down his crack and over his anus.
He cried out, his curse muffled by the fake cock in his mouth.
I did it again. He made a high-pitched sound and stiffened all over. Oh yeah, baby. That was rimming.
“Do you like that, Vincent?”
His head went up and down like mad. His eyes fixed on the wall. He moaned, long and low.
I grinned. “I figured you would.”
Then I really went at him. I pressed my face into the cleft of his ass and licked, bit and sucked at his hole like the dirty slut I was, delighting in his cries and struggles as he was overcome. He pulled at the ropes, his head turned from side to side on the desk as his breathing became desperate and erratic.
But the head movement concerned me. “Are you safewording, Vincent?”
He grunted, shaking his head once.
“Shall I keep going?”
He groaned and whimpered, then assented.
Oh, thank God. He tasted fucking delicious, better than any woman I’d done this to. I mean, assholes were pretty much the same in general, but specifically they were unique, like a fingerprint. And smells were different. And seeing as I was used to the female animal and the plethora of aromas it provided, I never thought I’d be so enamored by the male musk that filled my nose and slid down my throat.
Zane hadn’t been a fan of performing this particular delicacy and had never wanted it done to him either.
This was my first time rimming a guy, and I devoured Vincent and hardly noticed his desperate grunts as he barely missed exploding beneath my assault.
But I did finally hear him and felt his barely contained energy. I pulled back, licking my lips and wiping my chin where my saliva had soaked it.
“Easy, easy, hold back. You can do it.”
I rested my hand on the small of his back—a calm presence as he gathered himself and kept hold. I was secretly delighted he’d responded so strongly to my skills. I had much more to show him.
But at the moment, I needed some attention.
“Good boy. I’m going to untie your hands now.” I undid the rope and pulled up his panties, listening to him hiss as they slid up over his sensitive erection.
When I was done, I told him to stand up and face me.
He did—and regarded me with open adoration. His damp hair stuck to his forehead. His face was red and there were marks from the desk. Fuck me, I could have come just from looking at him.
I reached up and unbuckled the gag, pulling it off him. The stump of a dildo slid out of his mouth and he licked his lips, breathing hard. He didn’t speak, just watched me with those beautiful blue eyes.
“No talking. Sit on the edge of the bed.” Even I could hear the lust in my voice.
He did as I asked, placing his hands on his thighs, waiting.
Those goddamn fingers. I moved close and stood right in front of him, staring at the hard cock trapped under blue lace. I lifted one foot and placed it on the bed by his hip, raising my chin and gazing at him in challenge.
“Give me your left hand, Vincent.”
He swallowed thickly as his dick twitched and leaked. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what I wanted. Well, I wanted obedience, for one thing. And his fingers.
He lifted his left hand from his thigh and held it out to me, as if we were going to shake. I took his wrist in my fingers and guided his hand to my inner thigh. He gasped as his palm touched my skin, then inhaled shakily as I guided his fingers underneath my loose boy shorts. I mean, I basically pushed his hand to my crotch and shoved his fingers up my soaking wet cunt.
“Oh Jesus Christ,” Vincent muttered, letting me use his hand like it was a weirdly shaped sex toy.
“Finger me. Hard,” I commanded, my voice rough with need.
He shoved his fingers into me and I squeaked out an un-Dom-like cry as he started—expertly—to do what I’d asked of him. And he did it hard, as I’d requested. I was forced to put my hands on his shoulders and focus on balancing while he fucked me with his hand.
“Oh fuck, that’s good. That’s good,” I moaned, grinding against him as he found and pumped my G-spot like a goddamn expert, and I came, shaking and panting and squeezing his shoulders.
“Fuck!” I cursed, gasping for air. “Fuck! Oh my God. Fuck.”
He looked so triumphant and turned on as I came all over his hand that it made me giddy. Had I ever been giddy?
“Oh, Vincent, you fucking genius. I knew those fingers were magic!”
He grinned and, yeah, looked pretty fucking smug. “Not just for piano?”
I actually laughed. What the fuck was wrong with me? “No, definitely not just for piano. Oh, fucking Christ, that felt good.”
He pulled his hand out of my shorts and it was—no shit—glistening with my juices. Without any word from me, he put his fingers in his mouth and sucked like they were something from Dairy Queen, closing his eyes as he tasted me.
“Vincent,” I said sternly.
He opened his eyes and froze, realizing I’d never told him to do that. Had he been a naughty boy? Or would I be amused? I could see those thoughts as they flitted through his mind.
“Take your fingers out of your mouth.”
He did, following them with his tongue as if he couldn’t quite relinquish them.
I put my foot on the floor and straightened my boy shorts. “Lie on your back. Stretch your arms over your head.”
I saw the hint of a smile as he obeyed, stretching out as if he were doing a yoga pose, only his breathing was way too fast for yoga.
In one quick move I leaned forward and pulled the panties down to his thighs. His cock bounced free and I crawled onto the bed, grabbing it and stuffing it between my lips.
“Oh! Shit!” he cursed, gasping a breath and fisting the coverlet, throwing his head back as I sucked and ravaged him.
I was hungry, so hungry. I wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted him undone. I wanted him just as surprised as I had been a moment ago.
He garbled words I didn’t understand as his body jerked beneath me. When he came, I felt the rush of warm fluid before I had to hold him down. It was that violent. His body convulsed and he came and kept coming. I tried to swallow because I knew from Daphne that he didn’t have any STIs or STDs, but I couldn’t get it all and it dripped from my lips as I tried to gentle him.
Finally, he sagged and collapsed on the bed, breathing raggedly like he’d just finished a twenty-K race. I sat up and wiped my chin dry of Vincent’s copious spunk. His groin glistened with it.
“I think you’ve killed me,” he said finally, when I was just about to check in.
“Well, that would be a tragedy,” I said, sliding down on the bed beside him, taking his hand and playing with those beautiful fingers, “since we’ve only just begun.”
Once we’d recovered and cleaned up, I peeled Vincent out of the panties and let him put his clothes back on. Then I had him prepare a couple of sandwiches and we sat on the couch to discuss his experience so far.
“How are you enjoying this?” I asked, pen and paper in hand.
I’d put on some fancy sweatpants, a red tee and my reading glasses. I think Vincent liked my intellectual look. He kept licking his lips and shifting his ass on the sofa. I’d forgotten how little time young men needed to recoup after an orgasm. Scratch that, I’d never learned. Mostly women, remember? But women, if they were in the right environment, didn’t take long at all, so I was kind of familiar with it. He was keeping up, at any rate.
He lifted his eyebrows at the questio
n. “Do you really need to ask, Sir?”
I stared at him, my pen poised over the paper. “Yes, Vincent, I really do. I need to make sure you’re on board with everything that has happened so I can plan out the next couple of visits.” I put the end of the pen in my mouth and tried to look like I was devising a multitude of scenarios.—which, of course, I was.
He widened his eyes farther and parted his lips. “Oh,” he whispered.
I grinned around the pen then removed it and wrote down what I’d learned.
Bondage, yes, rimming, yes, oral, yes. Lingerie, hell yes. Piano practice a resounding success. Excellent fingering skills.
I underlined that one.
Because, yeah, he’d known exactly where to put those long fingers and what to do with them. Granted, fingering wasn’t exactly rocket science, but it was plain to see he’d been with women before and he’d been paying attention.
“So, let’s talk about Daphne.”
“Okay.”
“What do you like about Daphne?”
He blinked. “She’s fucking terrifying.”
I snorted a laugh. “True. You like that?”
“I love that.”
“Okay. Fair enough.” I took a drink of my water. “Am I as scary as Daphne?”
He thought for a moment. “I mean, in some ways, no. In some ways, you’re even scarier.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’m not really sure what to expect from you. This is our second weekend, and it’s been pretty awesome. But I know you’ve gone easy on me. Daphne’s used…um…multiple items on my ass. You’ve only used your hand…and not that hard.”
I nodded. Yeah, I had gone easy on him. I made a note to not be so gentle.
Harder spankings. Use tools.
“Has Daphne ever used her tongue on your ass?” I already knew the answer to that.
He blushed and gaped at me, remembering. “No. Nope. That was different. Definitely.”
“And you liked that?”
His expression became suspicious, as if he thought I was toying with him, which I was.
“Yeah. I liked that.”
“Was it scary?”
“A little.”
“How?”