“If at any time, you want it to stop, snap your fingers.” I pause there to give him time to digest it. “Color?”
“Green.”
“Green what?”
“Green, sir.”
“Very good. When we’re in a scene or when you are servicing me sexually, you will address me as Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hands on your lap.” He scrambles to do so, staring up at me with his eyes wide and trusting. “Start by kissing my cock to show you appreciate it.” Giovanni leans toward me to chastely peck the head with his dry lips. I smooth my thumbs along his lower mandible, coaxing his mouth open. “Relax your jaw now. Very good. Lick your lips and open your mouth wide. Never use teeth.”
He nods, mouth yawning wide. I tilt his head backward and feed him my dick slowly. “First, let’s get used to this sensation.” I thrust shallowly along the valley of his tongue, and he gags almost immediately. “Relax your throat and accept this intrusion. I won’t go too deep this time. There you go. Take it slowly. We’re not in any rush.”
We go a few rounds as a warmup. I test his gag reflex, going a fraction deeper each time. Even as a tutorial, it feels splendid. The impulse to go farther and press harder is strong, but I don’t wish to retraumatize him. My goal is for him to enjoy this so much that it becomes part of his regular routine—that will be my reward. His eyes take on a glazed appearance while the wet velvet of his mouth caresses my cock. He appears content, but I need confirmation.
“Do you want to continue?” I ask during a break.
“Yes, Sir,” he says with a rasp that is the result of just having taken a dick deep in his throat. I smile at the sound of it and wipe the tears of exertion that have gathered at the corners of his eyes. His head feels so perfect cradled in my hands—supple, trusting, and eager, all good qualities in a sub.
“I’m going to use you for my pleasure, and I’m going to finish in your mouth. Will you swallow my semen?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He opens his mouth again without prompting. I use him gently, tenderly, pulling back a little when he gags before thrusting in again. His plump lips slide along my veined shaft while his tongue hugs the underside of my dick. His face is flushed, and a bit of drool seeps out the corners of his mouth, which I appreciate as evidence of his effort. My cockhead nudges the back of his throat ever so gently and rather than recoil, Giovanni welcomes it, gagging himself to go deeper. I look for his signal, but he never lifts his hands from his lap. For the moment, I am mostly silent, intently focused on my beautiful, obedient boy.
“That’s very good,” I encourage, losing myself to the pleasure, to the hollowing of his cheeks and the warm friction of his mouth, the snugness of his throat and the soft tissues that provide such sweet sensations, the trust he expresses in allowing me to use him this way. “Here we go. You ready?”
He nods eagerly and I deep throat him for those last few strokes. He accepts the penetration beautifully, watching me with so much yearning and devotion that I am momentarily stunned. He could be one of Botticelli’s angels with his fine features and his worshipful gaze, a heady rush indeed. My orgasm builds low in my balls, a throbbing ache that demands release, and when I spill, he is just as eager to collect it, his throat working rapidly to swallow it down, gulping so he doesn’t choke.
Choking might be nice too.
Before he can pull away, I grip the back of his head securely so he might learn this lesson too. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished,” I say as the last of my emission seeps out. His throat muscles continue to milk me while his mouth suckles my softening cock. I leave it in longer than I normally would to test his commitment. He only stares at me placidly and awaits his next instruction. Finally, I pull his head away with a soft pop of suction and wipe the dribbles of saliva from the corners of his mouth.
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes, Sir,” he says in a lustful daze.
“I did too. You may kiss me once more in appreciation for the manhood that sustains you.”
He does that as well, wonderfully compliant. I tuck my spent cock away and buckle my belt. “Would you like to come now? Or later?”
“I would like to come now, Sir.”
“Take off your shirt, pull down your pants, and sit on my lap.”
Giovanni stands and tears off his shirt. He reaches for his button, then stalls. “Would you…?”
I wait patiently for him to finish his sentence. When he doesn’t, I ask, “Would I what?” He swallows, looking away nervously. “Look at me, Giovanni,” I command, and his head turns sharply in my direction. “Tell me what you need.”
“Would you undress me?”
“Are you feeling shy?”
