"I know you do." Darren's smile widened as he gazed down at him, running the crop up Miles’s chest and catching it under his chin. "You like this, pet?"
"It's fucking hot, Sir," Miles breathed. He leaned into Darren without thinking, barely catching himself. "Sir, may I worship you?"
"Hmm..." Darren leaned back against the door frame again, crossing one ankle over the other. "You may." He tapped the side of one shoe with the crop. "Stockings only."
The signal was clear. Immediately, Miles folded forward, nuzzling the instep of his shoe and the soft, silken fabric over the top of his foot. He cupped his ankles eagerly. Nothing about Darren could ever be called delicate, but especially in these stockings, he was overwhelmingly elegant. With a moan, Miles kissed a path up the top of his foot and ankle, caressing his strong calves. They were beautifully defined, and somehow even more shapely through the sheer black fabric. The satin-smooth decadence was interrupted only by the occasional soft poke of his sparse golden body hair.
It felt deliciously naughty to touch him like this. Miles groaned, sucking at his calf through the stocking. His fingers traced the bare skin at the top of the stockings eagerly, skipping over the garters that held them up. He had to resist a sudden urge to rip them. "Fuck...."
"You like them, pet?"
"They're so fucking hot, Sir." Miles rubbed his palms over the bands restlessly, fingers catching on the garters. "Sir - may I - "
"Tell me what you want."
Miles bit his lip on a groan. There were so many ways to worship his beloved, glorious husband. Too many. He looked up the tantalizing length of Darren's body, nuzzling along one garter. "I want to stroke them while I choke on your cock, Master. Please."
Darren's gaze was dark and glittering. "Perhaps. But not yet. Today you'll have to earn it, pet." Pulling away, he settled on the side of the bed, leaning back on his arms. He crossed one knee over the other, giving him a view that was nothing but leg. "Get naked for me, pet."
Sighing in relief, Miles rose, shucking out of the underwear he'd gone back to bed in before his raging hard-on broke the elastic. Then, he sank back down to his knees, unable to resist drinking in the view.
Darren looked incredible: long, long black-stocking clad legs in stiletto heels. All Miles could think about was having those legs wrapped around him. Wrapped around his waist as he buried himself inside him, wrapped over his shoulders as he swallowed Darren's cock hungrily; he'd take anything. Just when he'd thought Darren's legs couldn't be any more devastating, his lover had procured this little black Bettie Page getup.Jesus, Miles was so hard he was getting dizzy.
Darren shifted closer on the bed as if reading his mind. He reached out with one leg to stroke his heeled foot up the inside of his thigh, gently nudging his erection with the instep of his shoe. He gave a low, pleased moan as he continued to stroke up his chest, finally resting his ankle on Miles's shoulder. "You may kiss. No hands."
Miles immediately turned his face to nuzzle his calf, kissing and sucking at his skin through the silk stocking. Just being able to touch him made his arousal pulse, leaking.
"God, you're so beautiful like this," Darren murmured, voice rough and appreciative. "So helpless to how much you want me. Such a good boy for me. You make me want to push you down on the floor and impale myself on that gorgeous, hard cock right now."
Miles groaned against his skin. The thought of Darren using such force, pushing him back,ravishinghim, was heady and intoxicating. "I'm yours, Sir. You can claim me however you will."
Darren drew a hiss of pleasure, sliding a hand down his own black corseted midline to palm his cock. He was so hard now that the tiny silken thong only half-contained him. "Oh, I will, pet. But for now I'm going to hold back for your sake. You've earned far more than just a quick and dirty romp."
He pulled his leg away, sitting up, his smile promising. "Bring out the spanking bench. Set it up so you can lean over it. I want to go to town on your ass."
Miles swallowed hard, obeying quickly. He'd been delighted to source the piece of furniture to commemorate their first wedding anniversary, compact enough to store away in a closet, but expandable into multiple different heights to aid sexual play.
When he'd first come to Darren, he hadn't thought he'd ever want this. The idea of being bent over and paddled like a disobedient child was mortifying, and the thought of wanting to mix pain with pleasure seemed counterproductive. His relationship with his sexuality had already been complicated enough; surely spanking would only make that worse.
That had been, of course, before Darren. The way his husband made him feel effortlessly sensual was something Miles never thought he'd experience. It had only grown stronger the longer they were together. And that wasn't even taking into account everything else he'd learned under Darren's caring guidance.
Miles had spent too many hours in the tattoo chair to count, enduring the buzz of the needle. A line-weight tattoo needle was like an unending cat scratch; the shading needles were a humming abrasion. Painful, but far easier to bear than more unpleasant things like the dentist. Choosing to endure it was a rush. The pain became empowering. Euphoric. Some peoplesaid that getting tattooed was addictive, and Miles couldn't refute it. Part of him always wanted more.
Now, though, he could feed that longing like this.
He set the bench up as Darren had asked - large, thick, and solid. Just high enough for him to bend over it, his ass in the air. Presenting himself for Darren's assessment always brought a thrill of excitement. Today, with Darren in that getup, it felt electric.
"Gorgeous," Darren purred, standing. He ran one hand up the back of Miles's thigh, clenching at his ass cheek. "My husband keeps himself so hot for me... with this thick, muscled ass. Perfect specimen of a man." He shifted to press his hips against Miles's ass. His silk-covered ridge nestled between Miles’s cheeks as he rocked slowly against him, rubbing and squeezing his glutes.
Miles bit his lip on a trembling groan. It wasn't often that Darren took him, and it was generally when Miles had asked for it in advance. Part of him still wasn't entirely used to it. There was nothing more incredible than being so completely vulnerable and helpless to the pleasure Darren inflicted, but becoming that way was intensely submissive for him and often exhausting. It was tantalizing to feel Darren grind against him like this, though, reminding him of how good it could be. Reminding him that he'd promised Darrenanything. A small part of him shivered in nervous excitement at the knowledge that if his master wanted to fuck him, he certainlycould.
"So gorgeous," Darren repeated, giving one more thrust before stepping back. "But I'm not prepared to give up being fucked today. So I'll have to reward you some other way, pet."
Miles stole a glance behind him, drinking in his husband's form. Darren pressed something to the inside of his calf, stroking upwards - the riding crop he'd been holding, Miles realized with a thrill of excitement. The leather tongue was smooth and soft as it whispered over his skin, but part of him couldn't help but recognize the danger of it. When Darren stroked it over his balls, he whimpered, shivering on the bench.
"Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Not anywhere sensitive, anyway." Darren teased it between and over his entrance with a pleased hum. Suddenly, it drew away, bringing the crop down against his ass with a sharp smack, making him cry out.
"That's one. How many can you take?" Darren asked, low and promising.
