***
The smell of dirt hits me as I run through a shortcut in the rain on Saturday morning to catch my bus over to where Arnie lives.
10am sharp, he had stated in his text, along with his address and a list of things I should bring with me. Textbooks, fresh clothes, toothbrush. Basics for an overnight stay.
I would stay overnight which I was surprised about, yet as I caught my bus and planted my butt on a seat near the back, my mind wandered to the possibility of him chaining me up naked in some dark basement where he makes me lick him clean.
Again, with the licking daydreams, however, this time I don’t shake it off, instead feeling nothing but a throbbing desire at the thought of doing that for him. Did that mean I’m attracted to men? Or just Arnie? Or was it the kinky stuff?
I’ve been letting these thoughts linger more than I used to, now that I’ve agreed and signed Arnie’s contract. The anticipation of knowing that we still need to discuss some of my wants and needs has me feeling embarrassed in a way that turns me on.
Of course, I would discover this side of myself, and it’s a humiliation kink that’s tacked on to all the others. I roll my eyes and settle into the bus journey with my headphones. Some calming music to slow my crazy beating heart as I near my destination.
Lust swirls inside me as Arnie opens the front door to his home. We are both in our twenties, Arnie being maybe a little older than 25, yet he has a house with a garden and a driveway.
It makes me feel like a child compared to my little dorm room with its tiny bed frame, and my only choice is to shower with others in a communal space. I have nowhere to call home, no one that’s missing me either. It makes me wonder if Arnie has a partner and I’m just a way for him to let off some steam. I cringe at the thought.
Arnie’s dwelling is in a small-scale suburban neighbourhood. The front is neatly kept, and there are even some colourful flowers growing in pots by the door. Does he cut his grass himself? If so, I’d like to stay and watch one day. Especially if he does it topless, like he is right now.
Arnie stands wearing nothing but some low-hanging grey sweats. He’s tanned and tattooed everywhere visible to me. Intricate lines and patterns cover his torso, twisting around and up over his pecs before flowing down his arms in perfect detail. His nipples are pierced, and when I gulp, he notices and winks.
“Like what you see, Jamie?” He inquires with that gravelly voice that makes my lust for him intensify.
I wet my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement. I’m soaked in the torrential rain as I stand on his front porch, basically panting at how obscenely good he looks.
“Come in. Shoes go on the rack; I only allow bare feet in my home. Hang your coat and leave your bag by the door. We will collect it later. We have lots to do, so hurry and meet me in the kitchen.”
He clicks his fingers with his back to me, then makes his way through a brightly lit hallway with mahogany flooring. I shuck off my coat and line my shoes up on the rack. Oh, how easy it was to let him command me.
An uneasy feeling creeps over me as I realise that meeting Arnie at the university was intimidating enough, yet here, in his home, I’ve just given myself over to the lions’ den. The air smells of citrus and spice. Clean, controlled. Like everything here is his.
Including me.
I don’t keep him waiting as I follow into the unknown.
Chapter 7
Arnie
Jamie is soaked, but that doesn’t matter. He’ll be out of those clothes soon enough. I made us an early lunch so that we could talk. I wanted to give him one last chance to back out. This lifestyle isn’t for everyone, and with Jamie lacking any support outside of our dynamic, it could lead him to forgo boundaries for himself.
I reviewed the list he sent me, and our compatibility is just delicious. The plan today is for him to get comfortable around me, do some worksheets, and hopefully, do a scene. There’s also the topic of his job, about which I have some questions involving his use of glitter on that dancer’s body. So, maybe he will confess his dirty little secret once he realises, I want to help him, not hinder him.
I don’t want Jamie to fail, but where would the fun be if he didn’t need to go through a punishment scene. His peachy, hard butt will be pink if not purple once he goes home tomorrow.
To prepare for his arrival, I had the attic cleaned and all the furniture I’ll need set out and ready. I don’t want to push him too hard, but I want to see him spread out if I can. I lick my lips and wait for him in the kitchen. I might not be entering into this sexually, but I’m only a gay man. If there’s a semi-naked man in my house, then I’m going to enjoy every second.
He’s quick, and he meets me in the kitchen in no time. He looks a little nervous, but otherwise he's his natural self.
“Sit. Eat.”
I watch him as he pads across to the island where I’m seated on a bar stool, and he sits on the one next to me. He smells of lavender again, and it’s intoxicating to say the least. I picture him naked, rolling in a field of purple lavender as the sun beams off his pretty paleness. Fucking hell, I have it bad for this boy.
“Did you make this?” Jamie studies the plate in front of him as if it were some kind of puzzle to be solved.
I laugh a little, “Yes, everything apart from the brioche.”
I made us Eggs Benedict with the eggs Euan dropped off to me this morning, first thing. The perks of having a friend whose boyfriend is a farmer. Jamie eyes the food on his plate and then wastes no time digging in.
