But my own release wasn’t my goal tonight. Rene was beautifully responsive, but also so perfectly, completely submissive to my will that it made it impossible to focus on anything but ensuring his pleasure.
He’d clearly taken my words to heart, letting me take charge of him in every single way, and even with his cock pressed into my abdomen and the increasingly frantic rhythm of his breath, my boy didn’t push me to go faster, or try to direct my hands, or beg me for more. He had truly given all control over to me, and I would never, ever get enough of that.
If anything, it was exactly what I’d grown to crave over the last five years.
For just a moment, my mind flashed to the only release I had allowed myself since losing Blair.
I had a sex doll at home… although calling it a mere sex doll would be like referring to a Bugatti as simply a car.
After Blair’s death, once my grief had settled enough for my libido to come back online, I’d had no interest in ever touching another man. Hell, my guilt alone wouldn’t have allowed me to, even if I’d actually wanted to. But my own hand hadn’t been able to provide enough of what I needed, either, and eventually, I’d found a customized doll manufacturer that—for a cost far above what I’d paid for my truck—had provided me with something that was lifelike in virtually every sensation it could provide, and fuckable in every way imaginable.
My doll wasn’t just a means to an end, it provided me with something reminiscent of the power dynamic I’d always needed in the bedroom; the one thing, above and beyond any physical release, that let me feel completely fulfilled.
With the doll, I wasn’t just in charge, I hadtotalcontrol. I could pose it, manipulate it, have it accommodate me in any and every way… and right up until Rene had agreed to be mine, I’d almost convinced myself that it was enough.
Now, though—with my sweet boy moaning into my mouth, the hard length of his erection exciting my own, his body pliant and yielding in my arms—I suspected that I had been both right and wrong.
Total control absolutelywasnecessary for me, but nothing other than Rene would ever be enough, not now that I’d had a taste. And not just a taste ofhim—of his breath and skin and tongue and sweat—but a taste of the submissive way he let me pose and position him, allowing me to move his body to suit my needs. Of the unconditional access he gave me to manipulate his pleasure, letting me take the lead and give him only what I chose to. Of the way he accommodated me in any and every way, opening for me when I pushed, allowing me to explore every inch of him, granting instant and total rights to his body without any hesitation at all.
I’d never abuse that right.
I would always,alwayscherish him.
But goddamn, it was intoxicating to have the same level of control I’d become used to over the last five years—to push my hands under my boy’s shirt and learn his shape, to let my mouth range farther and farther from his sin-worthy lips, memorizing his body—with no more resistance than my doll ever gave me.
And yet Rene gave me so muchmore.
There was no doubt that I was in charge, but he was so beautifully responsive that giving him what he needed was its own reward. He was perfectly at peace with my manhandling, he didn’t beg or push, just accepted.
But not because he wasn’t affected.
“You’re addictive, sweetheart. I’ll never get tired of taking care of you like this,” I whispered as he panted and moaned for me, his body flexing and quivering under my hands as his gorgeous olive-toned skin flushed under my touch.
“Daddy,” he breathed out, so vibrant and alive and pliant and submissive, all at the same time, that I knew I’d never be able to give him up.
It wasn’t just about how he aroused me or needing to get off, it was that I neededthis. To be the one who gave him this, who took all the worries and nerves and anxiety that he’d described to me earlier away from him, so that he could get lost in the moment and relax completely, into my control.
And it was working. His “parts” were just fine. Rene’s cock hadn’t softened even once, not since the moment he’d launched himself into my arms. If anything, it had become so hard—swollen and throbbing against me and eliciting ever more pornographic sounds from him each time I gave it some friction—that I was in awe of his restraint.
“Baby, you’re being so good for me,” I said, sliding both hands under his ass so I could lift him against me, making his thighs shake and his head fall back and a deliciously needy whine leave his throat as I moved his body, forcing his cock to rub against me, over and over until he collapsed against my chest, almost sobbing into my neck. “That’s it, sweetheart. Daddy wants you aching. And you are, aren’t you? You’re aching so beautifully right now.”
“Yes,” he panted. “Yes, Daddy. Foryou.”
He had to be. I could feel how hard he was, but he wasn’t thrusting against me. He wasn’t begging Daddy for more. He wasn’t using any of the subtle cues I might have expected, the kind that would have allowed us both to keep on perceiving me as the one in charge, but still let him convey his growing desperation for a release.
My boy did none of that, though, and it suddenly hit me—with a speed and force that almost had my own cock emptying itself, completely untouched and solely from the rush of his submission—that it wasn’t restraint at all.
Rene wasn’t holding himself back. I’d told him that the only thing he had to do to please me was give me total control, and he had. Effortlessly and completely, abdicating his whole self into my care. Trusting me to do everything I’d promised him. Putting himself wholly in my hands.
For me, he’d said.
Topleaseme… which he did.
But what would please me the most was giving him what he hadn’t been able to reach on his own, so that when he finally spilled over, he’d know his pleasure came from me. When I decided, and by my hand.
No, byhishand… but at my command.
“Baby,” I growled, the vision too electrifying.
