“We need to get changed,” he explained with a smile.
Andrew looked around in what seemed to be a locker room. Or what a locker room would want to become when it ever made enough money. The benches were decked in white leather; the massive lockers were made of wood with black iron doors. The floor was a grayish marble that went perfectly with the light gray walls and blinding white ceiling. If Andrew hadn’t known he was technically in a dungeon, his guess would have been law firm or beauty clinic.
“This is the room for guests. The subs and Doms who are here regularly have their own changing areas. I thought you might want to leave your shirt here.”
“You’re still using me as arm candy, boy?” Andrew winked at Curtis and was more than happy to see a faint blush creeping up the man’s neck.
“Could be—Sir.” Curtis had hesitated for a moment, and Andrew realized it was time for them to talk about their expectations for the evening.
“You don’t have to call me sir if you’re not comfortable with it. You know that, don’t you?”
Curtis gave him the sweetest smile. “I know. I wanted to hear how it sounds. How it feels on my tongue.”
“And?”
“It felt good. Right. I mean, there’s no way we’re doing an evening on high protocol here, since you’re a guest and we haven’t even talked limits or anything, but I’m comfortable with you calling me boy and me addressing you as sir. If it’s okay for you as well.”
Andrew leaned forward to kiss those full, inviting lips. When he came up for air again, he grinned broadly. “It’s more than okay for me.” Andrew started unbuttoning his shirt but stopped at the second button. “Why don’t you do this for me?” He looked expectantly at Curtis, wondering if he’d gone too far. The blush on Curtis’s cheeks deepened, and Andrew knew he had done the right thing.
“Of course, Sir.”
Curtis stepped closer to reach the buttons. Slowly he began undoing them, his hands trembling slightly. Andrew stood perfectly still, afraid to break the spell coming to life around them, wrapping them in a wonderful bubble of intimacy. His cock reacted to Curtis’s body heat and close proximity. The poor thing had gotten quite the workout already, since kissing Curtis had turned Andrew on like few things had ever managed. Now his shaft made another valiant attempt at getting his attention, but Andrew kept his focus on Curtis’s elegant, perfectly manicured hands and the way his breath hitched at every button sliding free. When he was finally done, Curtis slowly lifted his hands, looking at Andrew with a clear question in his eyes. “May I, Sir?”
Andrew smiled. He had tried to imagine what Curtis’s submission might look like, but the quiet dignity paired with a smoldering passion outdid any fantasy. “Yes, boy, you may.”
Curtis’s breath was coming more quickly now, his arousal fueling Andrew’s. The first touch of those soft yet skilled hands on his skin had Andrew gasping. He couldn’t help himself—he grabbed Curtis’s wrists and held him still to bask in the heat seeping through his palms into Andrew’s body where they were connected. They looked at each other, drowning in the lust that was simmering between them.
“One thing’s for sure. We have killer chemistry,” Andrew rasped.
“Yes. I haven’t felt this desperately turned on since my teenage days. You make me want so much.” Curtis moaned, a deep, beautiful sound that had Andrew almost spilling in his pants. How could one man be so sexy? In a bold move, Andrew took Curtis’s left hand and directed it to his bulging erection, showing him what kind of effect he had on him. Curtis whimpered. He caressed Andrew’s hard-on through the jeans, and Andrew knew there was no way he was walking out of this locker room without both of them getting some relief. Since they hadn’t discussed anything yet, he went for the safest option, opening his fly with feverish movements and taking out his shaft before he did the same with Curtis. Curtis’s hands dug into his shoulders when he pressed their leaking shafts together, causing a delectable friction. Curtis whimpered incoherently close to his ear, and Andrew let go of their cocks just long enough to spit into his hand for a little lubricant. Then he closed his fist around their shafts again, started working them with firm, determined strokes. He was so close, there was no way he could prolong this, so he went directly for the kill.
“This isn’t going to last long, darling. Kiss me.”
Curtis complied, his hips bucking wildly into Andrew’s fist. After Curtis’s hot tongue had entered his mouth, it took only two more strokes for Andrew to come. He felt the familiar pulsing in his balls, and then the orgasm washed over him with so much force, he almost lost his footing. The best thing was that Curtis followed him right over the edge, their cocks twitching in a wild rhythm in his fist. The scent of cum was thick in the air, and their gasping breaths filled the room like the sweetest music.
“Wow. I needed that. Thank you, Sir.” Curtis leaned his sweaty forehead on Andrew’s chest, still trying to fill his lungs with oxygen.
“It was my pleasure, boy. Is there somewhere we can clean up?”
Curtis nodded, his head still buried in Andrew’s chest. “Over there.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the door.
Andrew saw the sign for toilets over an unobtrusive door flanked by two locker rows. “Let’s go, then.”
He managed to get Curtis upright without smearing his clothes with cum. It felt a bit strange, walking around with his dick hanging out of his jeans, but they were in a BDSM club, after all. It should be fine. The toilets had that same classy elegance as the locker room, with two bidets, four different kinds of lube on a small shelf, and a stack of wet wipes. Andrew raised his brow and Curtis just shrugged. “Those annual fees have to be good for something,” he muttered with a wink. After they were cleaned up, they went back to the locker Curtis had chosen for him. They were both a bit tense, but not in an uncomfortable way. To Andrew, it felt more like the sexual tension between them had gotten more intense with their first shared orgasm. There was one thing, though, he wanted to be clear about.
“I hope you don’t mind that there was no blowing or licking off cum. This is something I want to hold off until we know each other better.”
Curtis smiled. “I understand. And I’m glad. I think this is very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Sir.”
Relieved, Andrew put his shirt in the locker before he turned to Curtis. “What about your clothes?” He lifted an eyebrow in a slightly challenging manner.
“I have a set of clothes in the sub’s changing rooms. Since you’re technically my Dom for tonight, you’re allowed to come with me. Single Doms are not allowed there so that the subs have a quiet place to change or catch some breath.”
Andrew nodded his approval. He was a big believer in making the subs as comfortable as possible. Because when it came down to it, there would be no playing without them. “If you think they don’t like seeing a stranger there, I can wait outside.”
Curtis raised his hand to touch his cheek. “That’s very considerate of you. But it’s fine. You’re with me, so they won’t mind.”
Andrew entwined their fingers and let Curtis lead him back into the short corridor and through another door to a much larger room where the subs had their realm. This room made the one where he had changed look like a public toilet in a big city. For one, there were no simple lockers here but individual, antique wardrobes with small, polished silver plates to announce the owner/user of the piece. They were in different styles, ranging from what looked to Andrew like nineteenth-century furniture to the almost futuristic pieces of the seventies. Before Andrew could really register the deep blue marble tiles or the crème-colored leather benches, his eyes fell on the wall to his right. There were no wardrobes there and for good reason. The entire wall was covered in the most intriguing picture he had ever seen. The man depicted was obviously a sub, the collar around his neck and the cuffs on his wrists making it abundantly clear. He also looked like an angel. His blond hair fell to his shoulders, framed his gorgeous face like a halo; the eyes were of the brightest blue, and his half-open mouth spoke of absolute ecstasy. His wings were fully open, the tips a deep black that almost shimmered and turned to a blinding white close to his body. The space between was intermingling shades of gray so perfectly blended, Andrew thought he saw the wings moving. The man was naked, his torso covered in red welts, his thighs a deep red. Andrew swallowed. Whoever had done this painting, they had captured the essence of submission perfectly, the vulnerable strength, the combination of opposites. It was what he as a Dom was striving for with every encounter he had—the perfect balance between pain and bliss.
