“Wanna play with it? Open the box and hold it in your hand. Feel the weight and thickness of it. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you exactly where to put it.”
Again, no answer. Not a word. Not even so much as a creek of a mattress spring. He must be sitting stock still. Anxiety trickles up my limbs.
Shit. Have I pushed him too far?
I hear the dull thud of a foot landing on the floor and then another. Rapid footsteps are headed my way. My bedroom door flies open, slamming into the wall from the momentum. I squawk and leap away from the wall, hoping like hell he didn’t see me with my ear plastered to it. I slink ungracefully down into a seated position, leaning my back against the wall and curling one leg under myself.
His face is like thunder. His lips are pulled up into a sneer and his eyes have gone from sky blue to faded blue denim. He stalks over to me and for a second I feel a tremor of fear. He looks me dead in the eye and roughly throws the neatly boxed butt plug I bought for him onto my lap. For good measure, he returns the lube in a similarly ungracious manner.
I feel a quick surge of relief. There’ll be no parking of minivans or anything else in Luke Bennet.Thank fuck.He’s saved me from myself. I seem to be hellbent on making a calamitous decision when it comes to him, but he has more sense than me and I’m grateful for that.
Let this be the end of this madness.
He turns towards the door, and I’m flooded by an intense feeling. It’s horrible. Cold and dark. It reaches deep inside me and wrings my guts out. It’s so awful and unprecedented it takes me a second to place the emotion. I feel shocked and sick when I do.
Sadness.
I’m infinitely and insanely sad to see him turning his back on me. The sense of loss I feel is completely disproportionate with what’s happened between us. I try to find my voice, but my chest is still squeezing too tightly. I lean my head back against the wall and prepare to watch as he walks away.
He’s still for a few beats. He has his back to me but he’s still within reach. The tension in the room reaches nuclear levels. He doesn’t move for a while and then at last, he does. When he does, his legs aren’t the things moving. His hands move. They lift the hem of his T-shirt a little, just enough that he’s able to dig his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, one hand on each hip, slowly inching them down. I let out an awful, humiliating, sound as he eases his pants down to slowly reveal the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. It’s tanned and smooth like the rest of him, except for the slightest hint of peach fuzz that lights up as my table light hits it. His cheeks are full and round. Solid muscle with just enough padding for fingers or teeth to sink into.
I look down at the butt plug in my lap and my hands start to shake as I grasp his intention. Playtime is over. He’s done with my shit. No more instructions through the wall. He’s called my bluff.
I deliberate for less than a second.
He stands perfectly still as I unwrap the box.God, people who package shit like this are assholes. If they don’t know that horny people don’t have great fine motor coordination, what the hell are they doing in the business of packaging sex toys?
After a short but intense battle, I wrestle the steel plug from its bindings. I hold it in my hand, feeling strangely confused about the turn of events that sees me being the one testing the weight and girth of it. I don’t wonder for long. I get to my feet and stand directly behind Luke. I’m taller than he is, not by a lot, but enough that I need to lean down slightly to talk into his ear.
“Reach back with both hands. Grab a cheek in each hand.” A surge of power engulfs me, making me feel almost high, when he does as I say. I take a quick breath to steady myself. “Spread ‘em.”
He does.
For good measure, he leans forward a little, too.
I glance down, jaw slack, as my gaze follows his crack all the way down. I can see a slight hint of his hole, just a shadow, and I want more. I press my free hand into the small of his back making him arch and spread himself more. I grab the lube and have a skirmish with that too. As soon as I’m victorious I squeeze a generous amount onto the plug. I look down at his ass again. I want to touch him. I want to run my hands lightly over his skin. I want to sink to my knees and rub my face and my lips all over the globes of his ass. I can’t make the leap. I’m still shitting myself that I’ve somehow misunderstood what he wants. He gave me the lube and the butt plug, right? So that’s what he wants, and that’s what I’m going to give to him. I take a quick, shaky breath and slide a slick finger down his crack, I circle his asshole lightly, moving fast so my nerve doesn’t fail me.
“Lean forward.” My voice is shakier than my breath is.
He does as I say, and as he does, I line the tip of the plug up with the center of his neat little pucker and I push it in. The tip sinks in, but he tenses and pushes it out. I reach up and take the back of his neck in one hand, applying gentle pressure.
“Relax.”
He adjusts his hands, grabbing hold of an even bigger handful in each one, spreading himself wider, strong fingers cause soft flesh to pleat. I press the plug upwards again, this time it slides in. I move slowly, nudging the small metal tip in and out of him until the thickest part of it sinks in. He makes a soft sound as it does. His hole is hungry. It must be ravenous, because he swallows the rest of the plug greedily, sucking it into his narrow channel, and pulling the base close to his body.
“Which hand do you use to jack it?” I ask.
“Left.”
“Did someone tell you using your left hand feels like someone else is touching you?”
“Yeah.” I hear a soft smile in the word.
You know nothing, momma’s boy. Just wait till you feel my hands on you.
Imma blow your mind.
I pry his left hand off his ass cheek and squirt a dollop of lube in his palm. “Jerk it.”
