He just doesn’t know it yet.
Every soft gasp he gives me as I take my time going down on him becomes part of my soul. He shivers again as his cock pulses. When he grows even hotter and harder in my mouth, I know he’s close to the edge.
Which is, of course, my cue to pull off and let him simmer for a while. I climb up his body, straddling him and pushing him down onto his back before I lean in to kiss him. That’s when I grab his hands and shove them over his head, pinning him to the mattress by his wrists.
“While you’re with me this weekend, I want you to shut off your brain,boy. I want your focus only onme, and what I’m doing to you, and what I tell you to think about, and that’sit. Understand?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
I sit up and yank off my blazer, tossing it over onto the chair next to my dresser. Then, I kick off my shoes and pull off my socks. I opt to stop there, for now. I want a psychological advantage over him once I get him naked.
“Sit up.”
He does, and I quickly strip his blazer, tie, shirt, and undershirt off him.
Fuck me, he’sgorgeous. His body is a little softer than I would have guessed but he’s even more attractive for it, because he’sreal. He bears a few scars on his torso I suspect are mementos from his ordeal.
Kissing him again, I ease him back onto the bed. I’m going to take my time unwrapping this present. Never believed in god before but maybe Elliot is a sign there’s a benevolent creator after all.
I’m talking this man isbeautiful.
Notice I didn’t say perfect—which iswhyhe’s so beautiful. He’sreal, not some guy obsessed with gym time so he looks like an Instagram model.
Slowly, I kiss my way along his chest, back to his abs, where I ease his slacks and briefs down his hips. He might as well be a virgin, considering his lack of experience with guys.
That’s even hotter, to me.
I get to be the one to teach him, and I don’t take that privilege lightly. A good first experience can change a person’s life for the better, while a bad one can break them.
The last thing I want to do is break him. I cherish my toys, even if I’m doing evil and nasty things to them in the process.
The first serious hiccup occurs when I slide his slacks down to mid-thigh. That’s when it’s like he realizes he’s about to be naked in front of someone else. He flinches and starts to sit up.
I can’t interpret his expression, but I put my left hand out, lightly splayed across his chest, and keep my voice low and gentle. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” He swallows hard. “I…” He sucks in a desperate breath. “My leg.”
“What about it? Am I hurting you?”
“No, Sir.”
I pause my efforts to get him naked but my right hand cups the top of his left thigh through his slacks. I feel where something that isn’t flesh starts, several inches below his hip. I don’t know the terminology, but I’ll have my boy teach me.
So I can take care of him.
“Then what’s wrong, boy?”
It looks like he’s forcing himself to talk. “My leg. I-I don’t have one. I mean, I’m missing part of one.”
“I kind of gathered that from our talk earlier. Is that a problem? Or is there something special I need to know so I don’t harm you?”
“I… I just…” He stares at me and I wait him out. “It doesn’t freak you out?”
“The plane I was on dropped out of the sky and I nearly died. I spent a lot of time in physical therapy. No, an artificial leg doesn’t bother me.” My left hand is still splayed across his chest but now I’m applying a little pressure, hoping to coax him into lying down once more.
I reach up with my right hand and stroke my fingers down his abs, over his scars. “We all have scars. Some inner, some outer. Some more visible than others. I have plenty of both. It makes us who we are, in the end.”
He still looks nervous.
