“What’s a secret?” I asked, plying his hand away from his cock. I knew it wasn’t the fact he was hard, that was obvious. “You can’t keep secrets from me.”
He threw his arms up above his head and there it was, the secret. In his small amount of pubic hair, he’d trimmed the initial J into it. It was a little janky looking, but oh so adorable. I stared at it for a moment, making the rectangles with my hands again to frame him up nice for my memory bank.
“It was a supposed to be a surprise,” he said. “I wanted you on your back and then I’d sit on your chest and you’d see it.”
I glanced down at my sweats and the hair showing at the waistband. “Does that mean you want an E in mine?”
“It’ll be easier than a J. You know how hard it is to do a curve with the trimmer?” He reached down for his cock again and I pushed his hand away, shaking my head at him. “I wanna hide mine, you’ve still got clothes on,” he said.
“Well, I never said you had to keep your hands to yourself,” I said. “You’re always free to undress me, kitten. In fact, I think I’d prefer it.”
I lay on the bed for him, giving him the control he’d been craving, even if it was just another expression of his submission to me, undressing me slowly, softly, kissing the skin he exposed down my legs. Sweats first, then my boxers, which were loose, tenting with my erection, and he knew just how to tease it with a gentle arm brush.
Ezra worked his magic mouth and tongue up and down my thighs like he was a kitten cleaning fur, the pet name now fitting. He was trying his best to tease me, but it wasn’t really teasing me, it was occupying my mind, and that was all I needed right now. Someone to keep my mind off the world that was burning around us, above us, and the manhunt for me, which I was grateful hadn’t forced the Bianchis’ into ratting me out.
“Does it tickle?” he asked, pawing at my cock, tenting in my boxers. He really was trying to be my kitten now.
“Yes,” I said, even if it was a little white lie. “Keep doing it.”
“No,” he said with a menacing grin.
“Oh, it’s do the opposite day?”
He giggled.
We’d been down here a while—time was only something we knew about because of the TV and the occasional reminder to sneak outside to get fresh air. I didn’t want my sweet thing going insane, but maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough, because he was really doing everything he could right now to be different.
“Come on,” I said.
“No.” He jumped on me, pounding his body down on my abdomen, his hard dick slapping at his belly with every bounce. He ground himself down on me, his balls desperate to be in my mouth.
“Sit on my face, then.” It was what he wanted. I didn’t want him to say no again. The way he’d been so eager with his plan and refusal to show me that cute etching in his pubic hair.
“I get to decide,” he said, still beaming at me with his evil little smile. Possessed by horniness. “And I decide... I want to sit on your face.”
I smacked my lips, wetting them with my tongue. “Kitten, your seat is free. Let me please you with it.”
Ezra’s lightness and flexibility made it so that I could’ve grabbed him and maneuvered him at any moment without much effort or fuss. I almost did, my hands itching to take absolute control, reclaim it from what I’d already offered up to him. He did it himself, resting his knees on either side of my head, his ankles and legs hooked under my arms like I was an anchor point for him in case he wasblownaway, maybe by my amazing oral skills.
“I’m teasing you,” he giggled.
“You want me to stop that?”
He shook his head. “I like teasing you.”
My hands were on his lower back, supporting his decisions. I didn’t really mind him teasing, or taking as long as he needed to. All that really mattered was that he was having fun, and I was able to give him the space to play in our dynamic. After all the roughness I’d been in my life—in control, angry almost—I needed everything Ezra had brought out in me, from the way he’d softened me and made me come more than any one-night stand or drunken fumble ever had.
Ezra had me eat his ass while he jerked himself, his delicate balls resting on the bridge of my nose every time he bore down with a little force. My tongue worked a magic that had his thighs clenching around my face and him moaning my name, telling me faster, slower, as if his words controlled me, but it was his pleasure that controlled me.
I needed to see his vision, the one where I was playing with his balls in my mouth and had a view of the J etched into his hair. It was another moment for my eyes to capture. I blinked like snapping a photo. He continued to play with his cock, and in his excitement, his balls would move around, trying to escape like balls often did before coming—but I wasn’t letting him come so quickly.
“Enough teasing now,” I told him, grabbing him by the waist. “Are you going to deal with that problem?” My cock was leaking precum on the inside of my boxers. Hiking up my knees and letting them drop, I let him see how firm and structurally sound my cock was.
He giggled. “All you had to do was ask.”
“I was letting you entertain yourself,” I told him. “My body is your playground.”
Gulping hard, he nodded, hopping his little booty down the length of my body until he reached my boxers, my cock stopping him. It was pressed up tight against the fabric and his lower back. He wiggled his ass against it, and with one stern look, he pouted and move back down to my thighs.
