Taylor lifted his head to look at Fletcher. “Threaten you about what, exactly?”
“The night before we left for Boston he called and told me that I was threatening my career and stuff. Cause of the trade,” Fletcher lied. He didn’t think Taylor was in the right headspace to know about what his dad was really accusing him of. Not after today and especially not on his birthday.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You don’t deserve to deal with that,” Taylor frowned.
Fletcher let out a sigh before he rolled on top of Taylor.
“Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” he asked.
Taylor shook his head and leaned up to kiss Fletcher. “No. Not really. Let’s talk about that surprise…” He said with a smirk.
“Anytime there’s a list associated with sex it always ends up bad,” Fletcher joked. He straddled Taylor’s waist and ground his ass against Taylor’s crotch. He could immediately feel Taylor grow hard.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Taylor’s neck where the hickey from earlier was barely visible. “What do you have in store, handsome?” Fletcher asked, trying to sound as seductive as possible. “Anything you want to do, birthday boy. I’ll even let you tie me up.”
“Mhmm,” Taylor hummed. “I bet you’d like that.” Fletcher ground on him again.
“Keep doing that, sweet boy.” Fletcher loved when he called him that. “It feels good.”
Taylor’s hands found their way to Fletcher’s waist as Fletcher practically started dry humping him. He could feel himself growing hard beneath his jeans.
“Does that feel good for you?” Fletcher asked softly.
Taylor responded by pulling Fletcher’s shirt up over his head and throwing it down on the bed beside them. He unbuttoned Fletcher’s jeans and Fletcher sat up a little so Taylor could pull them down. “Sit up against the headboard,” Taylor instructed. “Let’s play a game.”
Fletcher eagerly obeyed. The idea of playing a sexy game definitely excited him. He quickly pulled his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off and crawled up to the head of the bed. Taylor got up and stood at the end of the bed. He was still fully clothed, though the bulge in his pants was prominent. It looked almost painful.
“I want you to touch yourself,” he told Fletcher, sounding so dominant that it sent a chill down Fletcher’s spine.
“Really?” Fletcher asked, sounding a little nervous. Taylor’s eyes darkened as he looked down at Fletcher like he was his prey.
“Yes, Fletch. Spit in your hand and stroke yourself.” He commanded coolly.
Fletcher spread his legs on the bed as he lifted his hand to spit in it before reaching down to stroke his throbbing cock. He made lazy strokes. “How long?” he asked Taylor, unintentionally sounding kind of submissive. He sucked in a breath as he found a good rhythm.
“Until I tell you to stop,” Taylor answered. He folded his arms across his chest and watched Fletcher as if he was studying him. It made Fletcher nervous in the hottest way possible. He’d never felt this way during sex. So submissive. He really liked whatever kinky game they were playing.
“Do you like watching me play with myself?” he asked Taylor, sounding dirty. He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth to try and hide a moan.
“Do you like it when I watch you play with yourself?” Taylor countered with another question. Fletcher’s cock twitched in his hand. Fletcher nodded, but Taylor pursed his lips. “Use your words, pretty boy.”
“Fuck, Taylor,” Fletcher whimpered, not ashamed of showing Taylor how aroused he was. “I like it when you watch me. I wanna be so good for you, baby.” God he sounded like a fucking porn star. But it just came out of him so naturally. Taylor had some weird fucking super power where he could turn Fletcher into… this. But it made Fletcher feel good the way Taylor talked him through it like this. Really good. It made him feel validated in a way.
“Am I your good boy?” Fletcher asked. He wasn’t shy about it at all. And the way it made Taylor look at him was just the cherry on top.
Taylor didn’t answer. He just kept on watching as Fletcher stroked himself. He could feel his orgasm coming. But Taylor still hadn’t said anything. “Am I your good boy?” he asked Taylor again. A little more insistent.
Taylor looked at him with a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he finally answered. “No, Fletcher.”
Wait, what?
Fletcher stopped stroking and narrowed his eyes at him. “No?”
Taylor smirked. “Keep stroking, Fletcher.” He said coolly. “I think you’ve been pretty bad today. Do you remember why, Fletcher?”
Fletcher nodded as he resumed his stroking. He slowed his pace down so he could last a little longer. “The airplane,” Fletcher answered hesitantly. “But I was trying to—”
“Shhh. I didn’t ask you to explain yourself,sweet thing,” Taylor said. “It was a very naughty thing to do, Fletcher. And I knowmy boyis not naughty.”
