8. Reese
CHAPTER 8
Reese
The man could undo me with a single word, a single touch, and as he curled his hand around my somehow hard again cock, I came apart entirely.
He’d offered me the gift of his dominance, never pushing me to a point it was impossible to return from. He teased me with the delights that could be mine if I would just trust him enough to give him the lead, and when I ran back in the other direction, he obediently followed after. Though it had come with little fanfare, displaying his patience, Cory had offered me his own submission. I’d almost missed the forest for the trees, but when he spoke so gently to me as he tied those silk bonds around my wrists, I’d seen it for what it was.
I’d seen him for who he was.
And now I saw a couple in front of us, one naked and one not, but both of them bound together, though with different kinds of restraints. The man in the chair was as still as a I imagined a sounding rod down the shaft would allow him to be, but the deepest and most primal moans continued to tumble out of his mouth. His partner fucked his slit with that thin, steel sound, laughing and smiling as cum trickled out of his dick and raced down the length of his shaft.
Instead of giving the man a reprieve, he pulled out the sound and replaced it with a thicker one. The moans turned to grunts and groans, his body putting up more of a fight while not even really fighting at all.
“What is the most appealing part of it?” Cory whispered in my ear, his hand pulling lazy strokes up my shaft. “I can’t imagine it’s the sounding itself.”
“The submission,” I admitted. “The trust.”
Cory hummed a grateful, if not wounded, noise just below my ear. “That is something, isn’t it?”
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
His earlier seriousness when he’d called me special had sat heavy on my heart since the words left his mouth, but he hadn’t elaborated, and so I’d added it to the list of things we probably needed to talk about soon. We’d made it five good months, but there was no real way forward without both of us putting all of our cards on the table.
“I do,” he said quietly, letting go of my cock and bringing his hand up toward my face. “Help me thank you for that. I don’t want to hurt you.”
My mouth was parched, so I took a drink of whiskey, then dragged his hand to my mouth, using as much spit as I could manage while I licked and kissed his fingers and his palm.
“Good boy.” He purred that fucking praise at me and reached back into my pants, making a tight and wet fist around my dick.
I’d missed another upgrade—the rod down the bound man’s cock was thicker than a marker, and his hands were white-knuckled around the arms of the chair.
“Look at you,” his Dom said before glancing toward the half-dozen of us that had gathered to watch. “Look at him. Look how thick and perfect his slit is now that he’s come all over himself.”
An unexpected heat burned low in my belly and, behind me, Cory made an interested noise. He picked up on the same thing I had, the sharp burst of interest, the arousal that wrapped around everything I didn’t understand about myself.
“I’m going to make him come again,” the Dom said, much to the chagrin of his submissive partner. “And then I’m going to take him home and make sure he knows how proud I am of him. Of how much he entertained all of you tonight.”
A small murmur of interest went through the small crowd and the Dom pulled out a vibrator and clicked it on to the highest setting, then he held it lengthwise against his partner’s shaft. I couldn’t begin to fathom what that would feel like, either on its own or with a thick steel rod shoved down my urethra, but the ungodly moans and sighs that came out of his mouth gave me enough of an idea.
“Close your eyes,” Cory whispered. “You can listen to him if you want, but who is the most important man in this room right now?”
“You,” I answered, without a second thought.
He propped his chin against my shoulder and wound his free arm around my chest, bringing his whiskey up to my mouth so I could take a drink. His hand still stroked me tightly enough for me to not forget he was doing it, but nowhere near insistent enough to get me off. I opened my mouth and let him tip a swallow of the expensive liquor onto my tongue.
“Wrong,” he said, taking the glass away and kissing the side of my neck. “It’s you.”
I became nothing more than sensation and need after that. The stimulation between my legs and the noises from the center of the room were better than any scene I’d ever done as an active participant, let alone an observer. Behind me, Cory’s cock burned a hot and hard line against my ass, hips moving in short thrusts while he jerked me off.
Alongside mine, his breathing grew labored, and I didn’t have time to wonder if he was going to come in his pants because I was busy coming in his hand. The last wave of pleasure had barely rolled through me when I angled my head toward his face, chasing another kiss.
“Did you come?” I asked him.
“Close,” he murmured, barely louder than an exhale.
“Use my mouth,” I begged, already turning in his arms and sinking to my knees. My cock was still hanging out of my briefs, twitching through the aftershocks of my orgasm, but all I could think about was thanking Cory in return. Of being the good boy he always said I was.
It was easy to get his belt off, harder to tug his fly down, but then I fought his dick out of his pants and I took the length of him down my throat in one quick swallow. He groaned so low it vibrated through me, and then he threaded his fingers into my hair and fucked into my throat once, twice, then a hot burst of cum shot against the back of my tongue.
Cory bowed over me, hips jerking on their own accord as he emptied into my mouth, and I sucked him down happily. Behind me, I was vaguely aware that another orgasm has been achieved, but I was nowhere near ready for our night to be over. Cory carded his trembling hand through my hair and I rocked back onto my heels to smile up at him.
His chest heaved with every breath, and he used the side of his thumb to wipe cum from my mouth before pushing in past my teeth. I sucked on it, the taste of him salty and perfect with the whiskey already there. Then, for good measure, I sank my teeth into the pad of his thumb. He winced, but it was almost a growl, and then he yanked his hand away and replaced his thumb with his whiskey, offering me another drink, which I accepted willingly.
I was on my knees for another man.
And I’d never felt better.
I’d never felt more at ease.