There’s a sweet hesitancy threaded into his question, which helps me understand him all that much better. Leo has so little control over much of his life that here, in the bedroom, he can play a role that goes against his everyday nature. I nod, all too ready to give myself over to him in this way, be the good submissive for him tonight.
“If it ever gets to be too much, just say pizza.”
“Why pizza?”
“Because,” he says, stepping closer to me, “ever since our Monopoly night I can’t smell a slice without thinking of you, of that first kiss and you asking me to stay.”
I hadn’t realized that night still lingered for Leo, too. This is all about a game show and a payout, right? I’m out of time to contemplate that because Leo’s next instruction comes and my mind goes blank.
“Stick out your tongue.”
One inch at a time, he works my mouth open with his cock, pleasures himself while telling me to keep my hands behind my back. I do so dutifully. His need registers for me in each thrust, but there’s such care there as well. He tastes like heaven and he bucks wildly.
He instructs me onto the bed, facing the headboard, knees splayed; my hips experience a blissful stretch that spurs my exhilaration further. Leo’s fingers rake across my hole and goose bumps pop up across my skin. “Beautiful,” he murmurs to himself. I push back into his touch like I can sense he wants me to. It’s miraculous how we instinctually know the moves, like we studied the choreography ahead of time as Leo loves to do with his favorite pop princesses.
Leo’s tongue lands where his fingers were. A moan rockets out of me. He explores the spot, drawing out his laps with a hunger that sends my body to the astral plane. Strong hands grab my ass cheeks, parting them with such expert efficiency that I open and open and open some more, making space for his finger which he’s slicked with the lube I didn’t even see him pull out from a nearby drawer.
“How’s that feel, baby?”
Baby. The word sends a ripple through my spine. Instead of responding, I rock back on his finger, already aching for something larger, yearning to feel fuller. Maybe Leo can read my mind because he adds another finger, and I squeal with delight. I drop my head to the mattress, unable to handle the rush that is his third finger.
“You like that?”
“Mmm-hmm.” My mind is blissfully blank, wiped of anything but beautiful sensation.
“Good.” And after a minute or two of adventuring, he says, “I’ve got something even bigger for you. Do you want it?” He comes around to the side of the bed so I have a good view of him rolling a condom onto his penis which points right at me. An alluring threat. A provocative promise.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Use your words.” Leo raises his right eyebrow. “Do you want it?”
“Yes.” I gulp.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.” I surprise myself at how quickly and thoughtlessly that came out of my mouth. How natural and easy it was to say and mean. Panic strikes me as I glance up at Leo’s face, afraid it’s time to call “Pizza!” because I’ve pushed this too far, but instead I find Leo grinning ear to ear.
“That’s it, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” Then, he mounts me from behind. Presses his head to my hole and teases it, tempts me. I realize, then, that I haven’t even touched my own erection. I’m hard as all hell, yet I haven’t paid it any mind. I’m too lost in this new, exciting headspace that I don’t need to. My body is swarming with too many invigorating sensations.
And then, I feel it. The sensation of all sensations. His cock pushing inside me—slowly, infuriatingly slowly. Doesn’t he know how badly I want to stretch around him fully, feel his pelvis flush to my backside? I need that.
But I don’t dare rush it. Because he said he wanted it slow. And I want what he wants. No, I need what he wants. I flip my thinking and focus instead on the delectable ache of him, the momentarily uncomfortable friction that turns to sizzling indulgence the instant I accept him.
“Your hole feels so good and tight, baby. I love being inside you. I love how your body gives way for me.” I breathe into that, loosening any clenched part of me that’s not completely succumbed to this. “Just a tiny bit more. Oh, there. I’m going to hold it there.”
Once he’s done holding, praising me, settling in, he makes good on his promise. Railing me. Fucking me. The pads of his fingers dig into my hip bones, and pleasure bursts out from each contact point as my ass slaps and pounds against him. And I gasp in ecstasy.
Gone are thoughts of home and game show competitions. There’s only sweaty flesh and frantically beating hearts.
He grabs a towel from the closet and flips me over on my back, starfishing me out the way he had me do for him on FaceTime. Hanging back, he admires me momentarily. I blush. “Don’t go shy on me now, baby.”
“I won’t, sir.” I beam. “I’m yours, sir.”
There’s not a false note in my voice.
He sidles up onto the bed, grabs my calves and kisses my right ankle before entering me again. If I thought he felt good from behind, this is an otherworldly sensation as he presses a sensitive spot inside me repeatedly. Watching Leo above me, a light sheen on his forehead, I grow more and more aroused.
Leo notices the throb and wag and drip between my legs, and smiles as he says, “You can touch yourself while I’m inside you. I give you permission.”
