Various Persuasions

by AE Lister

  “You okay?” I said as I let go of his arm.

  Instead of answering, he fell to his knees so quickly that I reached for him because I thought he’d collapsed. But he bowed his head and began to kiss and lick my naked feet, cupping each heel with a hand as he did so.

  I stared at the top of his head, stunned but inordinately pleased.

  “Vincent,” I whispered, his lips on my skin like the wings of a butterfly—so gentle and fleeting. Tiny grateful kisses along my arch and on my toes.

  He looked up and those bright blue eyes were my undoing.

  “Fuck it, Vincent,” I whispered. “I think I might love you.”

  His eyes widened as he smiled. He didn’t say a thing, just moved his worshipping kisses up my calves slowly, sliding his hands up behind my knees.

  I dropped to the floor, tilting his chin so he looked at me. “Vincent, I love you.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  I laughed and my eyes tingled, more from the fact it was a Star Wars reference than for any other reason. At least, that was what I told myself.

  “You asshole,” I muttered.

  His lip quirked. “Not just an asshole, apparently.”

  “Never,” I said as I guided his face close and pressed my lips to his.

  Our lips parted and we kissed hungrily, desperately. All protocols were abandoned as his hand came up behind my head and pulled me into him, his mouth devouring mine the same way mine grasped at his. The only thing that separated us finally was the need for air.

  “Fuck. Holy shit,” he said.

  “Ditto. Let’s go upstairs, Vincent.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He stood, his poor cock still in its confinement. There would have been a mess on the floor under the bench but I didn’t care. I’d have him clean it up before he left.

  In my bedroom I got the key and released him from his imprisonment. He leaned back on his elbows and watched me clean him with a warm wet cloth. While I was doing so, he found my nipple with his fingers and stroked it gently.

  I gazed at him with a small smile. It was hard to believe we’d only known each other a few weeks and I already trusted him with my body. I trusted Vincent more than I’d trusted anyone before him. I wasn’t sure why. I just knew I felt safe and that he’d shown me such deference and respect I wasn’t nervous being naked with him at all.

  When I’d cleaned him off, I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and pushing his shoulders back against the pillows.

  “You took that very well.”

  He blushed. “Getting fucked in the ass, you mean?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “You did it very well. Mad skills, Nic. You’ve got mad skills.”

  “Well, I do when it comes to asses. Not much else…like emotions or anything like that.” I felt the heat in my face at this brave admission.

  He laughed quietly. “You’re a pretty good piano teacher.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Pretty good?”

  “Exceptional. You’re an exceptional piano teacher.”

  “Thank you, Vincent. You are a wonderful student.”

  He found my hands with his and entwined our fingers. “I like learning the piano in my pretty underwear.”

  I growled and kissed him, hard this time. He responded and we went at it again like teenagers. I writhed on top of him, feeling his cock swell beneath me.

  “Hello, what’s this?” I asked, glancing down. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Not when you’re around, Sir.”

  I frowned. “Don’t call me Sir right now…just Nic. Call me Nic.”

  “Not when you’re around, Nic.”

  I couldn’t believe how much I enjoyed hearing my name from his sweet lips. I ground myself on his hard cock. “Say it again.”

  He grinned. “Not when you’re around, Nic.”

  I let my eyes roll back as if I were in Heaven and groaned. “Oh yeah. So hot.”

  “What’s your full name?” He frowned. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me.”

  And I loved him even more for that. “Nicole. But please don’t use it. I gave it up a long time ago. It’s not who I am.” I gazed at him steadily and seriously.

  “I won’t. I like ‘Nic’ better anyway.”

  He guided my face to his and we kissed again. He was so hard now and I was dripping wet. Without saying a word, I spread my legs and guided his cock into me, sitting on him with little-to-no preamble.

  He threw his head back and gasped, then pierced me with those blue blue eyes and grabbed my hips, moving me on him, making me cry out.

  I pushed back and forth, riding his dick until he gasped my name. “Nic…Nic…oh fuck, Nic! Nic!”

  And I came, groaning into his neck, jerking my hips. When I’d finished, I told him to pound me, fuck me, hard, Vincent, so hard. And he did. He held me steady and thrust until he came, his cock shooting thickly inside me as I rocked myself on him and felt like I’d come home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Wednesday, Vincent begged me to come to his place.

  “Please, Nic. I need to see you.”

  “You just want me to let you off the hook.” We had agreed he wouldn’t have another orgasm until the weekend.

  “No, I swear. You don’t have to make me come. You can just tie me up and tease me. I really miss you.”

  “It’s been three days, Vincent.” But, honestly, I missed him too.

  So, I agreed to go to his apartment. I packed up some bits of soft rope, a blindfold and a ball gag, in case I did decide to play with him. I mean, who was I kidding? If he was up for a bit of tease and denial, who was I to argue?

  I headed over there in the early dusk, driving my car slowly as if I were savoring the fact that I’d been invited over to my…submissive’s place, boyfriend’s place? I wasn’t a huge fan of labels and I couldn’t pick which one fit more accurately. So, I didn’t worry about it. We weren’t at the point of introducing each other around our social circles yet.

  Even after a few days I was stunned at the way this, well, relationship—for lack of a better word—was progressing. It still scared me, but everything with Vincent felt so right that I couldn’t fight it. I was going with it and trusting everything would be fine. Great, in fact.

  But a part of me felt like it could crash and burn at any moment.

  I parked the car in a Visitors spot and pressed the buzzer for his apartment.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  “Who is it?” he said, baiting me.

  Since there wasn’t anybody near me, I replied, “It’s Sir. And you’d better buzz me up right now because I don’t like waiting, Vincent.”

  I heard his sweet chuckle. “Of course, Sir.”

  The sound of the buzzer filled the small space. I pulled open the door, grinning and eager to put my sub in his place. I was beginning to realize it might take some willpower to not fuck him again. I must be strong. He expected me to be the Dom most of the time.

  I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor with my satchel of goodies, wondering what secrets his apartment would divulge. I was incredibly curious to see his living space.

  He responded to my curt knock with promptness, opening the door wide with a smile and beckoning me in. He wore black skinny jeans and a red cotton tee that said Slave to Love on it.

  On a hunch I asked, “Have you been shopping, sweetheart?” touching the words on the shirt.

  He blushed. “Yeah. I got the jeans on Monday and the shirt yesterday. I wanted you to see it.” He twirled in front of me as the door closed, flourishing his hand at the way his ass looked in the jeans.

  “Love the jeans, Vincent. And the shirt? Well. It’s perfect.” I grabbed his chin when he stopped turning and brought him in for a kiss. His lips felt familiar and his scent made my heart happy. He smiled against my mouth, kissing me sweetly before pulling back.

  “I’m so glad you came over. Let me show you around.”


  I lifted up the satchel and raised my eyes. “Where should I put this?”

  “Ooh, what’s in there?” he asked, leaning toward it.

  “It’s a secret for now,” I said, tousling his hair. “Give me the tour and I’ll show you.”

  “Just leave it on the sofa. Anyway, this is the living room. It’s not that big but I’ve tried to make the best of the space.”

  The only place I’d seen more IKEA furniture was at IKEA, but everything looked cozy and comfortable. The room was tidy and relatively uncluttered. There was a tall bookcase and a small entertainment unit with a large flatscreen TV on it, a low wood coffee table with a few neat piles of books and a model sailboat. I glanced around the room, becoming aware of some other coastal-themed decor objects—a framed print of a lighthouse on some unknown shore and more boat models on the shelves of the bookcase.

  “Did you make these?” I asked Vincent as I examined one. “May I touch it?”

  “Yes, and yes. Just be gentle. It’s very delicate,” he said, moving closer.

  I side-eyed him. “It’s okay. I’m used to handling delicate things.”

  He blushed and I wanted to kiss him, only I was holding a model boat in my hand. “That’s one of the first ones I did,” he said.

  I turned the blue-and-white object in my hands, noticing the fine workmanship. “It’s beautiful, Vincent.”

  He shrugged. “I mean, they’re all from kits.”

  “You’ve done a beautiful job.” I replaced the sailboat and checked out some of his books. “You like to read. That’s good.”

  “I get that from my mom. She loved to read. In fact, quite a few of these are hers,” he said. “Dad didn’t know what to do with all of them after she died. He gave most of them to me.”

  I glanced at him. “I’m sorry. It’s tough to lose a parent. I lost my dad a few years ago.”

  “Yeah. It sucks.”

  “Majorly,” I said. “Oooh, I really like this one,” I told him, holding up a red schooner with white sails. The name Evelyn was painted in pretty white letters on the bow.

  “I named that one after her.”

  “God, you’re sweet,” I said, lifting my hand to his face.

  He lowered his eyes and grinned. “I don’t feel very sweet right now. My dick is so fucking hard. And I’m trying to figure out where you’re going to tie me up in this place.” His voice was soft and breathy.

  “Well, there are different ways to be sweet, you know. It looks like you have a sweet hard-on at the moment, right?” I glanced at his skinny jeans where the bulge of his cock was obvious.

  He blushed. “Pretty fucking sweet, yeah.”

  “Uh huh. Maybe you should take off your jeans and lean over the couch for me, Vincent. We can do the tour after.”

  His breaths came heavier. “After what?”

  “After I do a little examination to make sure my boy is still in proper working order.”

  He groaned. “Okay. Yeah.” He looked at the sofa. “Where?”

  “Take off your pants, Vincent,” I said, replacing the sailboat he’d named after his late mother on the shelf. I sent a prayer apologizing for defiling her son like this. Still, I was making him happy in so many ways and what mother wouldn’t want that?

  Maybe I should stop thinking about his mom. I turned around.

  “Oh, Vincent, fuck.” It came out of my mouth before I could think, because all I could see was Vincent sitting on the edge of his IKEA sofa in a pair of white satin panties with pink polka dots on them, trying without much success to pull the jeans off his bare feet. A raging erection pushed at the top of his panties as he leaned over.

  He glanced at me with a frustrated grimace because he was literally stuck in his skinny jeans. But I didn’t laugh because nothing about this was humorous. He looked hot as fuck and so sinfully sweet in these new panties that he must have picked out himself, that my mouth went dry. I had to clear my throat to get the next words out.

  “Hold on,” I said, walking over and falling to my knees. I lifted his feet into my lap and gently pulled at one pant leg where it was bunched at his ankle. “These are very tight, Vincent.”

  “I thought you’d like them. I got the panties, too.”

  I held up my hand without looking at him. “Don’t even talk to me about the panties until I can properly examine them. I love the panties,” I said, still trying to get even one of his sexy feet out of the jeans. “The panties are exquisite. They are rocking my fucking world right now.”

  “Oh good,” he said. “They were ninety bucks plus tax.”

  My head snapped up. “Ninety bucks? For a pair of satin panties? You got taken, dear boy. Although they are lovely.” I tried not to look at his cock in those polka dot panties because I literally could not even. “I like the jeans, too. They just might not be very practical for my purposes.”

  “I don’t know. I think these panties are worth ninety bucks,” Vincent said, smoothing his palm down his cock over the satin and closing his eyes wantonly. “They’re just so soft.”

  I pulled his foot out of his jeans with a vicious tug and growled at him. “I said don’t talk about the panties, Vincent.” I tugged the other side off with the same aggression, almost pulling him from the couch. “And keep your fucking hand off that cock. That cock is mine.”

  I stood and leaned over him, my face inches from his, and glanced down at his cock as I trailed a finger over the panties where it pushed at the delicate satin in a most profane way. I drew a quick breath at just how soft the satin was, and cursed. “Oh hell. It is very soft.”

  I trailed my finger back and forth over his cock and he puffed out small breaths as he gazed at me with wide, excited eyes.

  “You like that?” I said, feathering my finger back and forth while his cock swelled under the fabric.

  “Yeah,” he said breathily.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He let his head fall back as his eyes fluttered shut and whispered, “Yes, Sir,” then groaned.

  I slid my fingers under the waistband of his panties and touched the warm flesh where it was swollen. I was fascinated by this feeling of softness and hardness—the skin was silky smooth but his dick was rock-hard.

  “Kiss me,” I said as I leaned forward and wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly, languorously, as our mouths met and opened to each other. I drowned in his taste and texture as Vincent gasped and moaned, his tongue frantically exploring me.

  But I had to shut it down because we were both getting too excited too quickly. I didn’t want him to climax until the weekend but, at this rate, we both would—and soon.

  I wrenched my hand off him, pulled my face away and stood up, stepping back and giving him a nod. “Shirt off and stand up, please.”

  He blinked, trying to recover himself, and did as I asked, peeling the red shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

  “I’m very sorry to say these panties have to come off, Vincent. But I’ll do it. You just stand there and don’t move until I tell you to.”

  He dipped his head obediently as I moved close and slipped my thumbs under the silk waistband. With practiced calculation, I lifted the waistband over the top of his arching cock and slid the panties down his legs, keeping my eyes on his as I crouched down and touched his right calf. “Lift.”

  He did and I pulled one side off.

  “Now this one.” I touched his other calf and he accommodated me.

  I stood up, clutching the soft satin in my hand, rubbing my thumb and finger over it gently. Maintaining his gaze, I lifted the fabric to my nose and inhaled deeply. “Mm-m.”

  Vincent watched me with wide eyes and moaned.

  I balled them up and tossed them aside like they were nothing. His gaze followed as they arced through the air. Ninety dollars of overpriced panties on the floor.

  “I want you to turn around and kneel on the sofa cushions with your elbows on the back of the sofa and your ass pushed out toward me.”

  “Ye
s, Sir,” he said and moved his lithe body into place as I watched.

  When he was ready, he glanced behind him with raised eyebrows and I wanted to take a photo of him displayed like that. He looked delectable. But I knew a way to make him look even better.

  “Good boy,” I said, moving to my bag of tricks and tossing the ball gag and blindfold on the sofa. I pulled out a length of soft rope.

  He quivered with excitement as I moved behind him. “Now lower your chest to the back of the sofa and cross your wrists at your back.”

  He did this as his cock bobbed gracefully.

  I wrapped the black rope around his wrists and knotted it tight, getting him to test it.

  “Good?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  A slap on his ass made him hiss in surprise. “Louder.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I moved around him and took the ball gag from the cushion. I looked at it for a second, then tossed it back in the bag. I wanted to be able to ask him questions.

  I adjusted him higher on the sofa so he was more evenly balanced, pinching a nipple hard in the process and giving his cock a little slap.

  He groaned.

  I tied the blindfold and grabbed a pair of blue nitrile gloves from my bag, making sure he heard me putting them on. He’d said he was kind of into medical play, so let’s find out.

  “So, Mr.…”

  And that was when I realized I didn’t know Vincent’s last name. While I was hesitating and trying to figure out how to ask something so obvious and embarrassing, he told me.

  “Blake.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know your last name.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Well, now I feel like a shit.”

  “You’re not a shit. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Mr. Blake,” I said, clearing my throat in embarrassment and trying to get back in the game, “I hear you’ve been having a sexual issue that you wanted to discuss with me? I believe when you called my receptionist you said that you have trouble concentrating without something in your rectum?” It was a statement out of an amateur porn video, but I made it work.

  I ran my gloved finger down his crack and over his hole. “As a medical doctor, I can tell you that everything looks normal back here. But it’s always best to do an internal examination to rule out a less-obvious problem.”