Not that I’m brave enough to fuck Jordan in the main hall or anything crazy like that, but logistically I could without my detail spilling the tea.
They haven’t so far.
I return to the kitchen and lean against the counter, next to where Jordan stands at the stove. When his gaze meets mine I see the slightly glazed look in his eyes and realize that I have me a needy, eager boy for the evening.
That’s not a complaint, either. Not tonight.
If anything, I’m feeling pretty damned feisty after the confirmation today about Stella’s impending nuptials to a stereotypical Florida Man.
I’m staring Jordan in the eyes as I smile and unfasten my left shirt cuff, setting the cufflink on the counter before I slowly and deliberately start rolling up my sleeve. This is something I discovered early on that melts his brain into a puddle of needy goo.
He actually bites his lower lip and softly moans while he watches me.
I have my weaknesses and Jordan has his. The boy has amassivesuit fetish. I think he truly enjoys helping me get dressed every morning due to that more than because of our relationship.
With a little smirk I repeat the motion with my right cuff, slowly and painstakingly rolling that sleeve to match the left. Then I prop my left hand on the counter and lean in, smugly noting the front of his sweats are fully tented.
“How long until dinner’s ready,boy?” I keep my voice low, knowing how it makes him hot.
His throat works as he swallows. “About fifteen minutes, Sir.”
“Good boy.” I slowly pivot to stand behind him and reach around him, between his legs, where I cup him through his sweatpants.
Yep. He’s hard, all right.
He moans and grinds his ass against me again. I don’t honestly think he can help himself when he’s like this and that’s fine with me.
My lips trail up and down the right side of his neck. “After dinner,” I whisper in his ear, “I’m going to put you on your knees at the table and feed you your dessert.”
Another moan slips free. “Thank you, Sir!”
“Maybe later I should take you down to the Oval and fuck you over my desk.” The three of us have already left our DNA all over my desk, the sofas, and in my private study.
No, I probably won’t drag him down there tonight because all I’ll want to do after dinner is get him into bed, reward him, and then snuggle. I think we both need snuggle time tonight.
But he loves the threat. Getting into Jordan’s mind means most of the battle to disengage his brain and drop him into boy mode is won. There was a time in my life where I never dreamed I’d ever hold him in my arms, much less own his heart and soul the way I do.
Who says dreams can’t come true?
Grazing my teeth along the shell of his ear I lip his daith piercing. “Who do you belong to, boy? Who owns you?”
He eagerly squirms against me. “You, Mister President.”
“That’s right. I do. And how do you serve me?”
“I serve at the pleasure of the president.”
I tighten my grip around his cock and balls. Not painfully so, because I don’t like to hurt him in bad ways, but it means my erection perfectly presses along the delicious seam of his ass. “You also serve the pleasureofthe president, don’t you?”
Another adorable ass wiggle and his voice takes on that breathy quality that tells me he’s totally gone, deep in subspace now. “Yes, Sir!”
“Yes, you do. Such a good boy for me.” I nip his piercing again and can tell from the way his cock twitches under my hand that he’s already close to coming.
Ah, to be young again. It’s so fun to play with him like this when I’m in the mood to be Toppy for him because he can still get it up multiple times a night.
Plus he begs so beautifully.
I might be a total slave and slut to Leo and, yes, to Jordan when he’s in Sir mode, but it is nice every once in a while to step up and remind Jordan who literally had him scooped up and fetched by Secret Service.
