And that’s the real Christmas gift, isn’t it? That we can both be ourselves. Feeling slightly devilish, I grin.
He pulls his chin back. “Oh, this looks like trouble.”
“Not that much trouble,” I say, holding out my palm. “Spit.”
I love watching what his body and face do with that first command. Always a shiver and a sharp inhale of air, followed by blissful relaxation. Maintaining eye contact, he leans in and spits into my palm.
“Again.”
He complies, and it settles something in my chest. I kiss him deeply while pulling our two cocks together in one hand, slicking them with his spit. I find his weeping slit on the downstroke, reveling in his hitches and sighs. I’m tempted to draw it out, have him arching toward my touch, making him beg and promise, tying him up until he’s completely at my mercy.
But we’ve got a Christmas luncheon to prepare for, and the roads froze overnight, so we have to give ourselves a little extra time to get over to the ranch.
I tighten my grip and speed up my stroke, and soon he’s spurting cum across my belly. He looks so debauched and innocent with pink cheeks and darkened eyes.
“Clean up this mess you made,” I demand, running my tongue along my teeth.
He nods and gets to work, first cleaning my hand with delicate licks, then my belly with longer strokes. Biting his lower lip, he looks up at me as he grips my cum-glazed cock. He maintains eye contact as he slowly lowers his mouth, taking me to the back, sucking and swallowing as he goes.
“Good, boy.”
“Yes, Sir,” he says, popping his brows.
Yes,Sirturns me on more than I’d have ever guessed.
He goes back to work, his suction downright ferocious as he works over my cock and balls.
I grip his head and thrust. “God. I. Fucking. Love. You.”
He moans, and that extra bit of vibration does me in. I thrust harder, and he goes deeper, swallowing as I come.
I immediately regret making plans today because I’d much rather recover and then bury myself in that perfect pink hole of his.
He’s still sucking me, softer as he holds on through my aftershocks. I read up on cock warming the other day, and I think it’s something he’ll be into. Figure we’ll give that a spin on New Year’s.
I pat his cheek. “Such a good boy. Do you want to wear the cage for lunch?”
He smiles with my dick in his mouth and pulls back, a sparkle in his eye. “That’s sorta dirty to do on Christmas, don’t you think?”
“That’s the way I like it, baby.”
He sits back on his knees, hands in his lap. “I think I’d like that very much.”
I check that his cock is soft enough, then pull the cage from the nightstand and fit him into it. I was hesitant to put a lock on him at first, but then he begged for it, knowing I’m a sucker whenever he begs.
After turning the key in the tiny padlock, I show it to him and then put it on a long necklace.
“This will look pretty under my white lace panties,” he says, licking his lips.
I groan. “You’re the worst.”
“Whatever. You love me.”
Grunting, I pull him in for another kiss. “I do, baby. I really do.”
* * *
We showup at the ranch in style, me in my starched, polished cowboy best and Tanner in a black leather kilt he found on consignment, paired with a cropped red sweater with a white collar and his black leather braces. Plus, of course, his black-on-black Santa hat.
