Brennan walked over to his artist corner, knowing full well that Cliff was checking out his ass. The hot glue gun had been charging this afternoon; he unplugged it, felt its heat against his fingers.
“What are we doing with that?” Cliff asked with some concern.
“It’s part of our art lesson today.” Brennan squatted down and pressed the gun to his poor hardwood floors. His brain was too drunk on Cliff to consider whether this would cause damage. Hot streams of glue pooled in a tight puddle. He jammed the dildo on top like an astronaut planting a flag.
Cliff’s eyebrows jumped.
“Picasso Middleton?” Brennan asked.
He shook his head no.
“We’ll let that dry for a few minutes.” Brennan untied Cliff then sat on the bed. “Come over here. Lay over my knee so I can play with that tight hole of yours.”
Cliff tried his best to stay poised, but Brennan enjoyed throwing him curveballs. He lay across Brennan and put his hands where they belonged, behind his back.
Brennan wanted to put his hands all over Cliff, and so when he lay over his knees, displaying his pert bubble butt in the air, Brennan felt at a loss for words. His fingers danced down the crack and spread him apart to peek at the pink opening. Brennan let out an involuntary moan, like his brain was melting in real time.
He came down hard on his firm cheek. The slap echoed in the room.
“How does that feel?”
“So good.”
“You like being spanked?”
“Yes.”
“You like being mine, my dirty boy.” He slapped Cliff’s ass, the smooth skin turning red.
“I’m your dirty boy,” Cliff yelled out with utter conviction that turned on Brennan. “Please. Make it hurt.”
He spanked him hard three times in a row. Cliff cried out. He expected to hear Picasso Middleton, but all that came from Cliff were the sounds of pleasure.
“Fuck. Yes. I want it so bad, Brennan.”
Lust possessed Brennan. He could’ve lifted a car and thrown it across a parking lot. He wanted Cliff, all of Cliff. He wanted to make him moan and beg.
“I’m going to make you fuck that dildo while you suck me off. You want that?”
“Please,” he pleaded.
Brennan spat on his hole and slipped a finger inside. It was warm and wet and damn if his whole body didn’t combust on impact.
“How does that feel?” Brennan asked.
“So good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Brennan.”
Fuck, his name sounded like heaven coming from Cliff.
Brennan lubed up a second finger and squeezed past the tight muscle of Cliff’s virginal ass. Cliff was practically vibrating in his arms, his moans in rhythm with Brennan’s fingers. Watching Cliff lose himself to his touch was an ultimate turn-on. He wanted to fuck Cliff. He wanted his cock to experience that tight ass, wanted to watch Cliff succumb to his movements. It was a blessing in disguise that Brennan was so pessimistic about his sex life that he hadn’t bought condoms in months. He didn’t want to rush into sex with Cliff. Not just for Cliff’s sake, but for his own.
“I want to be your fucking whore,” Cliff called out, a far cry from the quiet guy staying in his shell. The word caught Brennan off-guard.
“You like being nasty?” Brennan spat in his hole and finger-fucked him fast and furiously, spreading him wide before grabbing him by the hair. “Off.”
He removed Cliff off him and his throbbing cock. Seriously, if the wind blew a certain way at this moment he’d absolutely cream. Brennan led him to the dildo pointing upright from the floor. He bound his hands with the tie. Brennan gave the sex toy a test tug to ensure it didn’t budge, then coated it with lube. Hopefully it could handle Cliff’s wild ride.
“Sit on it.” Brennan still felt a little self-conscious being so commanding, but this was the story they both wanted to create. He trusted Cliff as much as Cliff trusted him.
