19
Fifteen minutes later, we were lying in bed, naked, with kiss-swollen lips. The room was dim — Leo had drawn the blinds, so only a slit of light crept in.
I stroked a hand down the expanse of his back, then shamelessly squeezed his ass. “God,” I said against his mouth. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Leo made a whimpery noise. Before today, the last time I heard it was when I’d licked his hole until he was a quivering mess. We’d had a lot of since since we officially started dating. It always felt amazing, of course, but even better was how Leo would be a bit more expressive each time. There was something rewarding about it.
“And this…” I dragged my hand over his hip to his cock, already hard and hot in my hand. “This is perfect.”
Leo’s eyes were big. Needy.
I squeezed gently, and he gasped.
“You know that, don’t you?” I whispered. “That your cock’s perfect?”
He pulsed in my hand, and I grinned.
“You have a praise thing, don’t you?”
His lashes fluttered. “A praise thing?”
“You like being complimented. Every time we’re in bed, you like it when I call you pretty. When I say that you’re good.”
He squirmed, and I let go of him.
“Would you rather not talk about this?” I asked. Despite all the sex we had, he still sometimes got blushy and flustered when we talked like this.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not uncomfortable or anything. I guess I’m just a little shy.”
“That’s okay,” I murmured, running a hand through his hair. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”
“Really?”
I snuggled closer and let my lips brush his ear. “Very,” I whispered.
Leo shivered, then gave me a rueful grin. “Maybe I do have a praise thing.”
I smiled back at him and returned to combing my fingers through his hair. “Tell me all the things you like.”
“Tell you?”
“Well, how will I know unless you tell me? I only figured out the praise thing from sheer luck. What kind of things do you want me to call you?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “What do you want me to call you?”
“I don’t mind,” I said, doing my best attempt to shrug while lying down. “I don’t have any particular names in mind, but I like it when you tell me how good it is. Or when you just say my name.”
Leo was quiet for a moment. “I’m not picky. I like everything you say to me.”
“Like?” I prompted.
“When you call me pretty and gorgeous and hot and handsome. When you compliment my eyes and mouth and muscles and…” he swallowed.
“And your perfect cock and gorgeous ass?”
He nodded, pink blossoming across his cheeks, but I wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or desire. “When you say I taste good,” he murmured. “When you say my…my asshole looks…”
I held my breath. I wanted to hear it so much — to hear Leo repeat the filthy words I’d said to him.
“Looks…tiny and pink,” he finished.
I exhaled, and it must’ve been encouraging because Leo continued, “And when you say my cock looks mouthwatering. When you tell me how much you love sucking it.”
“I do,” I murmured. “And I love watching you cum.”
Despite his entire face being red now, he gave me a small, pleased smile. “I like watching you finish, too,” he admitted, then glanced down at himself. “Oh, Jesus, I’m leaking all over myself.”
I had no choice but to shuffle down, grip his thighs, and slide him into my mouth. I tasted him against my tongue and his strong hands held onto my shoulder. I sucked and kissed and licked, and then, when his breathing turned to panting, I pulled off him so he wouldn’t finish just yet.
He didn’t speak for a long moment, his chest moving up and down as he caught his breath. Then he tugged me back into his arms.
“I like it when you take charge,” he murmured, and it was as if all his shyness had melted away. “I like it when you make all the decisions. When I can just lie there and enjoy it.”
“I do like to be in control,” I admitted.
“Yeah, that’s it. I like it when you’re in control.”
“You’re submissive that way,” I said.
“I’m not, like, a masochist or anything. I don’t want to be hurt. Not that you ever have hurt me.”
“You can be submissive without it automatically being a BDSM thing.”
He nodded. “Then, yeah. I guess I am. I like…being taken care of.”
“Being treated like a prince?” I suggested.
He burrowed his nose against my neck. “Yeah.”
“Do you ever want to be mistreated?” I asked.
He stiffened. “Like how?”
“Not mistreated,” I corrected myself in a hurry. “I meant that we know you like praise, but it’s also common for people to like degradation.”
“Like what? Like being called names?” He was straightening up, being roused from his relaxed state.
I started stroking his hair again, trying to relax him. “Yeah. It’s okay if you don’t. I was only asking.”
“What kind of names? Ugly?”
“I’d never call you ugly,” I murmured. “I won’t call you anything you don’t like.”
“What kind of names did you mean, then?”
“Some people like being called a slut.”
Leo frowned. “I’m not a slut,” he said. “Why do people want to be called sluts?”
“Some people like the mix of praise and degradation. Like being called a pretty slut.”
I felt rather than heard Leo’s inhale of breath. He was quiet for a long moment. “Do you like the mix of praise and degradation?” he asked, eventually.
I made a non-committal noise. “It’s not a huge thing,” I said. “But if someone told me I was a pretty cocksucker, I wouldn’t be mad.”
Once again, Leo inhaled sharply. I stopped talking and waited in case he wanted to say something.
After a long while, he slid his hand down my stomach until it rested on my lower belly, so close to my erection, and yet so far. He massaged the skin, and I let out a low groan.
“Winnie?”
“Yes?” I managed.
“I don’t think I’d mind it if you called me a pretty cocksucker.”
Although I’d said the same words moments ago, when Leo said them, they sounded different. Not just filthier but more impactful. My cock throbbed.
“Oh?” I breathed. I reached out and rubbed the pad of my thumb against his bottom lip. “Do you want to show me what that talented mouth can do?”
Leo didn’t waste any time. He lay down on the bed, between my spread legs, and I felt the subtlest hint of his exhale on the underside of my length.
“You want me to suck it?” he whispered.
“There’s nothing I want more than to see your perfect mouth stuffed with my cock.”
He leaned forward and enveloped the head of my length with his pink lips, his wet tongue sliding against me, making me tense. Slowly but surely, over the course of several minutes, he managed to slide my entire shaft into his mouth. Even though he was only able to suck the entire thing for a few seconds before slipping it out and taking some heavy breaths, I watched in awe.
“I think,” he began, using one hand to wipe his mouth while the other stroked my rigid cock, “I don’t mind being called degrading names as long as you also praise me.”
“So you would like to be called a pretty slut?” I asked.
He nodded.
“What about…” I cast my mind for ideas, but it was a bit difficult to properly concentrate when I had a gorgeous man lying between my legs, jacking my dick, his lips wet with spit from when he sucked me down to the base. “What if I called you a good slut?”
Once again, he nodded, eyes dark with desire. “I like it when you tell me I’m good. When you say I’m doing a good job.”
“You did a perfect job sucking me,” I told him. “You’re such a good whore.”
He ducked his head, and my stomach dropped. Was that word not allowed?
“Sorry, should I have not said —”
He shook his head and raised his head, revealing a small smile.
“No, I like it. I think I’ll like anything you say, Winnie, as long as you’re complimenting me.”
I reached for him, hand holding the side of his face, and he nuzzled into my palm like a pet. To him, I probably seemed more confident than I was. I was confident most of the time, but I didn’t want to accidentally screw things up and scare Leo off and ruin sex for him, not when it was so new to him.
I lowered my hand, once again brushing my thumb over his lips. Obediently, he let me push my thumb into his mouth and flickered his tongue against it, which sent a shot of pulsing pleasure all the way to my balls.
“Show me how good you are at sucking cock,” I told him.
And so he did, and just as I was about to reach the peak, he slipped his mouth off me and started kissing my inner thighs.
“I want you to fuck me tonight,” he said, so quietly, for a second I thought I’d misheard him.
“Tonight?” I asked.
He nodded.
We’d talked about it, of course. Leo had admitted to me, eyes firmly on his lap, that he’d experimented with fingering himself, which made me instantly hard and start to take his clothes off. I’d rimmed him and fingered him, only using one digit at the beginning to get him used to it. Not everyone enjoyed it — I didn’t — but thankfully, Leo loved it. The last time we’d done it, it had been at my place, and he’d been on his hands and knees, face buried into a pillow as his entire body trembled as I massaged the sensitive special spot inside of him.
“I’ve been imagining it for ages,” he said. He tilted his chin up — boldly, even defiantly. “I’ve imagined it since that very first night we met, the night you told me you were a top.”
“You mean the night you asked me ‘top of what?’”
He covered his face with his hands. “Don’t,” he whined.
“Sorry,” I said, stifling a laugh. I yanked him back up so he was face to face with me and kissed his knuckles until he uncovered his face. “It was adorable. You’re adorable. And,” I lowered my voice, “I want to fuck you tonight too.”
“Really?”
I grinned. “I’ve jerked off to the thought of burrowing myself inside you.”
Leo stared at me, lips parted, mouth so wide, I could’ve slid a finger in if I wanted. Before I could do anything, though, he leaned over me. For a second, all I could see was skin, faded freckles, and a dusting of blond hair. A drawer in the bedside table let out a squeak, and he rifled around in it, then pushed a box of condoms and an unopened tube of lubricant into my hand.
He really wanted this, and he wanted it right then. I pushed myself onto my knees, and without wasting any time, Leo spread out his legs and lay them on either side of me.
“You want to do it like this, with you on your back?” I asked.
He nodded, reaching down to stroke himself. I watched for a moment. He wasn’t putting on a show — his hand was slow and gentle, he was silent, not making any exaggerated noises, and his expression was almost blank, except for the tiniest hint of tightness around his jaw — but it was perfect, and real, and I knew that any lingering shyness or shame had evaporated in that moment.
I slid on the condom. My erection wilted slightly — partly because it always did when I first put the slippery latex prophylactic on — but it was also partly because of nerves. Sure, Leo enjoyed it when I fingered him, but a dick felt a lot different to fingers, and I didn’t want him to hate it.
“Tell me to stop at any time,” I told him as I squirted lube onto my hand and slicked myself up. I warmed up some more and gently rubbed it against his entrance. “You can change your mind at any time.”
“I know,” Leo said.
“It’s going to hurt,” I warned him.
He gave me a wry smile, and I knew I’d said something completely obvious, but he didn’t seem as worried as I expected. Maybe it was because he was still stroking himself.
“I know,” he repeated. “But it’s okay. I want this. And —” he said before I could interrupt. “I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”
I nodded. I took my time stretching him out with my fingers — maybe too long because Leo knocked my arm with his knee and told me to put it in. I moved closer, holding his hips, our skin flushed. Slowly, I eased myself in.
Leo stilled, his face tightening, and I stopped. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said. “Keep going.”
I did, and when I was about halfway in, Leo’s hand resumed stroking his erection. Soon, I was completely inside, and it felt mind-numbingly pleasurable, but I couldn’t really enjoy it because I was too busy scanning Leo’s face.
“It’s…” he began. “…it’s not bad.”
That shocked me into laughter. “That’s reassuring,” I teased.
“‘Not bad’ is a compliment.” He closed his eyes as if to better focus on the sensation. “I feel really stretched out, really full, but also you’re pressing against my prostate, and that feels good.”
“Tell me when you want me to move,” I told him.
“You can move now.”
So I did. I got him to raise his hips and tried a bunch of different angles, listening to Leo’s feedback. “It’s a bit deeper than that,” he said. “Maybe that’s it? Can you try a bit harder?”
At one point, he started laughing, covering his face.
“What?” I asked, going still.
He peeked at me through his fingers. “It sounds like I’m giving you directions on how to park your car or something,” he said.
I chuckled. “It’s like that sometimes.”
“I always thought it’d be more…glamorous. In movies and TV shows, they just…do it.”
“That’s true. One character just sticks it in, and then they both start moaning in ecstasy,” I said.
“We do a lot more talking,” Leo said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “but I like talking.”
Leo’s smile became shy. “Me too.”
I grinned at him, then rolled my hips, and his smile slipped. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Do that again.”
I did, again and again, until his hand was a tight fist around his leaking cock, until my skin was covered in sweat, until we were both shaking and kissing and gasping against each other’s lips. Leo’s eyes went from wide to hazy to slits under lowered lids to squeezed shut as his orgasm racked through him, and I didn’t look away once.
A phone alarm shocked me into awareness. I was in a cocoon of warmth, the blanket pulled up to my neck and smelling of familiar laundry detergent.
The alarm kept blaring.
“Jesus,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”
Leo heaved himself up onto an arm, reached for the bedside table, and turned it off. “8:30,” he said. He groaned. “My shift starts at 9.”
“Don't you need to get going then?” I asked, alarmed.
“It doesn't take me long to get ready,” he said. “I just have a quick shower, throw on some clothes, and take the tram.”
“Still, you should go.”
Which meant I should also get up. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, even though a wave of tiredness spread through me. Last night was the first time I’d penetrated a guy in months, and I’d forgotten how exhausting it could be to top. It was worth it, though.
Leo pulled me down. “I can tell you’re exhausted. You can sleep in if you want.”
“You'll just leave me in your studio?”
“You don't need a key to get down to the ground floor. Just make sure to close the door behind you when you leave, and you'll be golden.”
“All right,” I said. “This bed is really comfortable.”
Leo pushed himself out of bed, and I blatantly checked him out as he walked to the bathroom. Last night, after we’d finished having sex, he’d pulled on pyjamas as he always did, and even though they were loose, I could still admire the strong line of his neck, his broad shoulders, and the curve of his ass.
I dozed off as he showered, the faint sound of water hitting the tiles. Later, I was awoken by the sensation of Leo’s weight dipping the mattress. He sat beside me. “I’m heading off now,” he said softly.
“Have fun,” I replied, my voice croaky. “Do you want to meet on campus later today? I have a class this afternoon.”
“Let’s do it. How about Professors Lane at four?”
“Sounds perfect,” I told him.
THE END.