2
Russell
Mornings following nightmares like the one Ryan had last night could go one of two ways. He’d either allow me to help him rebound, or he’d lock himself up until he was ready to let me help him. So far this morning he was allowing me in and accepting help.
While we woke up, he told me about his dream as we laid in bed. That was part of our agreement. I would never press him for the dream details immediately following them, and I would give him until the next evening before I started asking questions regarding the content.
While I stroked his abdomen, the details poured out of him. The scars from the train yard were soul deep and were a reoccurring theme of his nightmares. Mornings following the emotionally draining nightmares, Ryan needed heavy physical activity. Sometimes it was sex. Sometimes it was a cathartic flogging session. And sometimes it was a rigorous workout. This morning he needed the rigorous workout and went into our home gym to run on the treadmill. Usually we started our day jogging together, but when he needed to run hard, he stayed home and ran on the treadmill.
I had some things that needed to be handled for work, so I left him to his run, and I went into my home office. I left the door open, hoping he would come in afterward. Even though I was on the phone talking to my attorney about a new contract, I could hear Ryan in the kitchen.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, loud enough for me to hear.
That level of audible excitement could only mean one thing: he was rummaging in the pink bakery box. A smile forced its way onto my face when I heard his reaction to discovering one remaining oatmeal raisin cookie.
As I slowly rocked in the office chair, I grabbed hold of the top of the chair while I listened to my attorney. Moments later, my boy appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe looking oblivious to the fact that he could set my world on fire. Ryan had made a hobby about teasing me at what he thought were the most inopportune times.
My attorney spoke in my ear while Ryan held up the oatmeal raisin cookie, as if offering it to me or checking to see if it was okay for him to eat the last one. The cookies were always for him. I gestured with my hand for him to eat it. That smile of his appeared on his face, dimples and all. It was a dangerous weapon that he hadn’t even known he possessed. I’d do damn near anything to see him smile.
Ryan took a bite of the cookie and made an over-exaggerated scene about how good it was, and clearly how I was missing out. He even went as far as raising the front of his t-shirt to reveal his washboard abs while he rubbed his stomach and made a “this is to die for cookie” expression.
I raised my eyebrow at him. He still hadn’t learned that I didn’t give a fuck who I was on the phone with or who was in our proximity. If I wanted to touch and play with him, I’d do it no matter what.
With my forefinger and middle finger, I motioned for him to come inside the office. As Ryan stepped inside, I pointed to the floor beside my chair. He knelt beside me and sat back on his heels. I went back to listening to my attorney as best as I could while I lazily stroked the back of his head.
“Mmm,” he moaned lightly while taking another bite of the cookie.
The moan, of course, did me in. The sound of something bringing Ryan pleasure went straight to my cock. I leaned back in my chair just enough to unzip my pants and pull my cock out.
“Russell, are you listening?” my attorney asked.
“Yes. Listening requires me to be quiet so I can pay attention, which is what I’m doing. Please continue,” I said into the phone as I pulled the remainder of the cookie out of Ryan’s hand. I set it on my desk, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes instantly dropped to the hard shaft in my hand. I would have been able to continue the conversation had Ryan decided to simply stroke or rub on me. But the moment Ryan moved toward my dick with his mouth, I cut my attorney off.
“Pardon me, we’re going to need to resume this conversation later in the day,” I said into the phone. Thankfully, the wrap up was quick, and I was able to set the phone down before I felt Ryan’s warm breath on me.
“That’s my boy, Ryan,” I encouraged.
Anytime Ryan attempted to suck on me, I was always on alert and paid close attention to him. Oral sex was a major thing for him, and I needed to do anything I could to keep him connected to me mentally. Otherwise, thoughts of his asshole father or brother would snatch him up. I would frequently use his name, try to make some eye contact, or touch his skin. I could stare deep into his eyes all while his mouth was on me, but Ryan was still trying to get around some trauma surrounding oral sex, so constant eye contact made him uncomfortable. Ryan had come a long way, but I remained on my toes with it. He needed and deserved that from me.
Ryan licked and sucked, taking a breather here and there. Despite the random pattern, watching Ryan try to do this for me was intoxicating and sensual. My soul was connected to Ryan, and I was grateful he could see how positively my body reacted to his touch, because he needed to see how he affected me.
As always, whenever I was ready to come, I’d give him fair warning and put the decision in his hands as if he’d like me to come on him or in his mouth. We’d made progress in this area, and he had gotten to the point where if he didn’t want it in his mouth, he’d pat his chest or stomach to let me know to come on him. Given the hideous nightmare that ran around in his mind last night, I wasn’t surprised at all when he pulled his mouth away, pulled his shirt off, and patted his chest.
Ropes of cream shot out, decorating his chest and shoulder. Our eyes remained locked on one another while I came on him. I could tell he needed the connection to me more than anything right now. Since the nightmare was still lingering in his head, this wasn’t the time for me to encourage him to keep my cum on him for any longer than necessary.
I took hold of his jaw and leaned down to kiss him. His tongue was shy, but he kissed me back. The kisses after oral sex were always hugely important for Ryan. It was a wordless way for me to show him he wasn’t dirty and was worthy of being touched.
“Thank you, Ryan. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replied.
“That was wonderful, my boy. Sit tight for a moment,” I said, letting him know that I would take care of his needs that were growing urgent in his mind.
While I kept one hand on his head to stroke his hair, I tucked my cock back in my pants and opened the middle desk drawer. It was the drawer I had stocked for Ryan’s comfort for times just like this. I reached for a few tissues and a couple of damp wipes and then calmly wiped the cum from his chest and shoulder. I made sure to spend a few moments touching his skin by rubbing on it in a few places.
“Thank you,” Ryan said when I pressed the tissues over the damp places that were now cooling.
“My pleasure, Ryan.”
