I whimper when he strokes me, all these unfamiliar good feelings ping-ponging around my brain.
“Jesus, you’re hungry for it, aren’t you? When was the last time you had this?”
“With us.” I moan when his hand twists around the head of my dick.
He frowns. “That was two months ago. You haven’t been with anyone since?”
“No, Sir.”
“How often do you jack off?”
“What?” The question pulls me out of the moment.
“You heard me. Answer.” He uses his other hand to play with my balls, and I swear, I’m almost weak in the knees.
“I don’t know…a couple times a month?”
“That’s it?”
“I’m busy,” I defend. “And it’s not always easy for me to come…not without the other stuff.”
I expect him to argue, expect him to tell me something is wrong with me, but he just watches me for a moment, brow creased before he nods. “Then we’ll have to make sure you come over and over today.”
“Yes, Sir.” Somehow, those two words sound like a plea.
“Lean over the back of the couch.”
“I…okay, Sir.” I rush over to do what he says, resting my forearms against the couch, my ass out. If I’d arrived before him, I would have brought lube and condoms downstairs in case we didn’t make it anywhere else, but I didn’t have time. My head begins to spin, worry weighing me down—that I messed this up, that he won’t have what he needs down here to fuck me and we’ll have to stop for me to get it…
I feel Sir’s eyes on me, look over to see him still in the same place, watching me. It’s hard to miss the bulge in his jeans, but as mouthwatering as that is, it’s not what draws my attention. No, it’s the intensity of his blue eyes on me. Is he already disappointed?
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. I just…if you want to fuck me, I can run up and get the lube and a condom. I meant to have supplies down here as well, but I was late and—”
“You weren’t late,” he says again. “And it’s not only your responsibility to make sure we’re prepared. It’s mine too. I’m not going to fuck you yet, but I am going to make you come. We’ll take the edge off, and then I’ll take you upstairs to continue.”
I hate the way I sag in relief, the way I need to know I didn’t fail him. That’s one thing I can’t handle—failure of any kind. “Yes, Sir.”
He offers a small smile. He’s so different from any Dom I’ve ever played with, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Something about him has me on edge—not in a bad way, not because I think he’ll hurt me or anything like that, but he’s just so…open.
Sir walks over behind me, still fully dressed and hard. He swats my ass, the most delicious stinging sensation spreading across my skin.
“More,” I ask, wishing I didn’t sound so needy.
“I remember how much you like this.” He smacks the other ass cheek. “Such a good, slutty boy who loves to get his ass spanked. Spread your legs.” I do as he says. He holds his hand beneath my mouth. “Spit.”
I’m not the spitting type, not in any circumstance other than sex, but here, it does something to my brain, short-circuits it, makes me crave more, so I obey.
“Again,” he says, and I do it a second time. “Good boy.”
Sir wraps his hand around my dick, working my cock in fast, strong strokes.
“We need to get these balls drained, so we’ll do this quickly. I won’t hold you off, but I still want you to ask me before you come. Understood?”
My body is already tingling, balls full, dick throbbing,Sir’s simple touch feeling so good. “Yes.”
He uses his other hand to swat my ass again, once, twice, then over and over and over again. Each touch feels better than the last, my body welcoming the burn, the pain, coupled with the pleasure of his hand on my dick, stroking me, while Sir says, “That’s it…you need this, don’t you? Such a dirty boy, been letting all that cum build up while you were waiting for me, weren’t you?” Every one of those words does something to my brain.
