He stared down at me as he reminded me of our difference in value.
If I dared to speak, I’d have also argued that we were of different values—I was worth so much more. . . but I was slowly forgetting that.
I edged forward, feeling like I had no other choice. The shower water spraying my face assisted with the dryness suddenly overpowering my mouth. I lubricated my lips as my eyes dropped.
I was eye-level with his crotch, watching closely as he pulled back the skin, revealing his shiny helmet, already glossed with precum.
I looked up, suddenly terrified. My eyes locking with his, pleading forempathy. My situation begging for sympathy.
“Please. . .” my mouth begged too; the message given by my heart.
“Please. . .” he copied. “Please, open your warm mouth and put my cock inside it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Okay. You don’t have to.” That was the first time he ever gave me a choice. But it was no longer than a second before he took it away. “Would you rather I put it in your ass?” he asked, his tone hard and bruising.
My round eyes widened, making room for the tears spilling out. I shook my head. More tears crashed to the floor, mixing with the pooling water as my eyes dropped back to his length.
He didn’t look like I remembered. The dark pubic hair I’d choked on so many times was gone, clipped down and trimmed to perfection. Four silver balls stuck out from his glistening head, lustrously shining in his essence.
“You’re not afraid of a piercing, surely. I’ve already fucked you with it, and you didn’t even notice.”
I hadn’t noticed. I’d switched off. Escaped to a different reality, with a different version of him.
A deep breath, full of fear and anxiety, hugged around his cock as I moved closer to it.
His hand flattened to my head, pulling my mouth closer. He liked the feel of my breath on him, of me near him.
Placing my one hand on the back of his thigh, I ignored the stress swirling violently in my stomach. I stopped focusing on my feelings, giving all my attention to pleasing him.
Keeping him happy was the key to a punishment-free life. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Goosebumps lined his skin, the small bumps pricking my fingertips as they erected under my fingers as if my touch either offended him, or worse, excited him. I pressed into the back of his thigh, edging him closer to me.
Using my other hand, I reached for his length. A small groan rumbled inside him, but I didn’t give it enough of my attention to discover its origin.
His pre-cum glossed my lips as he knocked his shaft against them, demanding an entrance.
I opened, my eyes downcast, my demeanor subservient. I took him inside my mouth, his musky scent and salty taste taking over the space as I wrapped my lips around him.
The edges of my teeth sheathed along his every sensitivity, and he shuddered. Silver balls collided with my teeth. I rushed my tongue over each one, checking for cracks. He'd already chipped away at enough parts of me in the past.
Relief washed over me, raining down with the hot shower water above, as I found no imperfections to my potential smile. With a wider mouth and more careful actions, I took him deeper inside me.
“Suck me harder.”
And I did. I did everything I could to please him, to lead him into a wonderland of satisfaction.
I let him follow me into heaven.
My mouth moved up and down, my hand still pumping his shaft as his hips rhythmically rocked his thrusts in sync with me.
He moaned loudly.
His teeth, perfect and white, sharp and haunting, clamped down on his bottom lip, pulling it back into his mouth.
From this angle, and while he was quiet and in control of himself, or rather, allowing me control of this situation, he was close to perfection. Born with all the ingredients to make the perfect man, if only another man had raised him.
