I now have the pleasure of watching him undress. How dare he try to deny me that? His stripping is nothing overtly provocative, just the slow disrobing that I have come to appreciate both in scene and in our daily routines. In many ways, I am a simple man. I admire his new briefs, black with the gold Greca border. When picking them out online, he said they reminded him of a Grecian amphora to which I replied he is a lovely pitcher. The Versace medallion sits just below his smooth navel and right above his dick. They are at war with each other, his erection and the tight fabric. I’ve never spent so much money on underwear before, but I can tell you, it was worth every penny.
I slide my hand up Giovanni’s inner thigh and he widens his stance. I massage his balls through the fitted cotton, then grip his package and push upward, laying my claim.
“I’m going to spank you and then I’m going to fuck you,” I tell him.
“Yes, Sir,” he says in a slurry voice. He’s already so aroused and I’ve barely touched him.
“I’m also going to put a cock ring on you, so you don’t come too quickly.”
“You think I will?”
“Yes. And I want to fuck you long and hard before you do. Pull down your underwear, only to your thighs.”
He does as I command, smooth golden skin, golden cock already dripping with honey. I scoop a fingerful and hold it to his mouth. He sucks my finger vigorously, like it’s a tiny cock, then waits patiently for me to proceed.
“The ring will go on easier if you’re not fully erect,” I inform him. The silicone has some give, but I’d prefer it if he were soft, and I don’t mind tormenting him a little until then.
“What?” he asks. It’s a rhetorical question.
“So, we’ll wait.” I glance at my watch, curious to see how long this will take. I roll up the sleeves on my dress shirt and he watches me closely while shifting side-to-side, unable to move very far because of the underwear’s elastic band. He breathes deeply and probably counts in his head.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask out of curiosity.
“My Italian tutor’s vagina.”
I laugh, then realize he has referenced something else from his past, surely a good sign. A full ten minutes later, he’s softened enough that I’m able to slip the lubed ring down his semi-flaccid cock and feed both his testicles into the second loop. They hold him securely like a horse’s bridle.
“How’s that?” I ask.
“Tight.”
“It should be snug but not painfully so.” His erection inflates with alarming velocity. Like a helium balloon, it rises until it’s flush against his abdomen again, straining handsomely against the rings. I would like to put him on my St. Andrews cross, limbs spread, gagged and masked with only his genitals on display.
“Over my lap,” I instruct. “Leave your underwear just like that.”
It’s awkward for him to maneuver which only adds to my fun. There is something so arousing to see a boy with his pants pulled down only partway, round ass shining like an apple, just begging to be smacked, especially a fresh-mouthed boy like this one.
“I might stain your nice slacks,” he says.
“I’d say it’s almost a certainty at this point. It’s a good thing I own a discreet dry cleaner.”
He chuckles at that. “Do you like putting boys over your lap?” he asks while I smooth one hand over his soft flank. He must see me grinning ear-to-ear.
“Immensely. I especially enjoy spanking boys with smart mouths. Color?”
“Green, Sir.”
“We’ll start with ten. You can count in your head or out loud or you can just lie there and trust me to deliver the number I’ve promised.”
He chooses the third option, tensing his ass cheeks after the first hit, squirming after the second, whimpering after the third and fourth. But after the fifth, his ass tilts upward as if asking for more.
“Do you like this?” I ask after delivering ten sharp, stinging blows. There was no warm-up, just hard smacks to his bare ass cheeks.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What do you like about it?”
“It’s like I’m on fire, but I won’t get burned. The pain is… sharp but soothing. Your hands on me mean something, that I’m yours to… to discipline.”
