Or any time, really.
“Come on, wipe me up. I can’t stand a messy mouth.”
He puts his hands on his hips and glowers. “Why should I?”
“Because it’s the nice thing to do.”
“I’m not nice.”
That makes me laugh again, and my tongue licks across my chocolate-coated lips.
“Come on. Wipe this mess up and give me some water. I’m thirsty.”
He doesn’t move, and I sigh, knowing that I’m going to have to play a little dirty if I want to get anywhere.
My wrists wriggle, and the knot gives way completely. My hand slips free, and I reach out, grabbing on to Ansel’s wrist. He lets out a surprised gasp that makes my cock thicken even more. I bet this is what he’ll sound like when I breach that pretty pink hole for the first time. Surprised and a little turned on.
Yes, just like that.
“I told you how to tie a knot, and you refused to listen, so this is all your fault,” I explain softly and bring his hand up to my lips. “Now, clean me up and I’ll go back to being a good boy.”
I can feel his pulse thumping against my fingers. “I can’t imagine you’re ever a good boy.”
“I am for the right person.” I’m starting to think that, for Ansel, I could be the best boy ever.
His fingers twitch, and I let go of him. “I can’t believe I’m doingthis,” he whispers as I feel his thumb brush against my parted lips. I can’t help but let my tongue peek out and brush against his skin.
He jerks back and freezes.
“Don’t do that again,” he rasps. “I mean it.”
“I can’t promise I won’t.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs as I put my free hand behind my back and lean forward slightly.
“Please, Ansel. I’ll be good. I promise.”
The way I say that makes air escape his lungs. He moves a little closer, and my legs spread, letting him step between them.
I can smell him from here, his detergent and soap. It’s intoxicating, just like him.
His trembling finger touches my lips, and he swipes at them. He’s a little rougher than I expected, but I don’t mind.
I even help him out, licking my lips and making them nice and wet.
By the time he’s finished, he’s panting and my dick aches, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He just walks around my chair and ties me back up. I offer advice, but still end up with a shitty knot, not at all like I instructed. At this point, I think he wants me to get free.
I don’t say that, though. I just sit obediently as he grabs a water bottle and holds it up to my lips. I swallow down the cool liquid with a groan, and his breathing grows labored.
He takes a few sips after I’m done, and I can’t help but think about how this is almost like our first kiss.
Lots of progress.
“See, I didn’t poison you,” he says after swiping his hand across his mouth.
“You didn’t. I’m glad, because if I were dead, it would kill the mood.”
“There’s no mood.”
