Chapter Eighteen
Colton
We keep our normal routine through the rest of the week, James adjusting his schedule to free up our Friday.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I have no idea if it’s the right choice or not, but my desire for him is overriding my logic. Plus, James is an adult. He’s aware of the risks, doesn’t want me to drop his class, and has made the choice to continue doing this with me, so I respect that.
I do make a stop at the doctor on Tuesday and have my quarterly STI checkup, getting the all-clear.
I’ve been on PrEP for years, and I refill my prescription for that as well.
I don’t know if going without rubbers is something James will be interested in, but I want him to know he’s safe if that’s ever something we consider.
I get to his house at three minutes after nine and see James’s car is already in the driveway.
When I notice him sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for me, I grin.
Why I like that so much, I have no fucking idea, but it’s clear that anything that involves James hits differently, so I’m just going with it.
We get out of our vehicles at the same time, me walking around the front of his, bag slung over my shoulder, and meeting him by the walkway to the porch.
“Were you late on purpose?” he asks.
I frown. “I’m not late.”
“It’s three after—well, four after right now.”
God, this man. The thing is, I know he’s serious. To him, three minutes is late, but he also doesn’t consider… “I told you to be here at nine. I didn’t say I would be.” I grab his chin, lean in, and kiss him with a smirk.
“You cheated.”
“Is that any way to talk to your Sir?” I tease, then nod toward the door. “Now get inside so I can fuck you. We can talk later. I’ve been craving my slutty little hole all week.”
“I want you too.”
I follow James to the door. He seems less stressed than the last time we were here, less stressed than he’s been many of the times we’ve seen each other lately. I don’t know what it is about today that’s different, but I’m thankful.
The second we’re inside, he walks toward the stairs, but I stop him. “I didn’t say you could go up there. Take your clothes off.”
He grins. “Yes, Sir.”
I watch as he removes his shoes first, setting them neatly by the door, followed by his socks, one going into each shoe. James folds his pants, setting them on the table, then his underwear and his shirt.
“Being neat is important to you.” It’s something I’ve known from the start, so I’m not sure why I’m mentioning it.
“I had no organization in my life growing up. I need it now.”
I watch him, looking for any sign that he wishes he hadn’t told me that. I hadn’t expected it. James isn’t real forthcoming with a lot of things about himself, but he just looks back at me, waiting.
“Thank you for sharing that with me. Look at you being my good boy. I’m very proud of you. Are you wearing the plug?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I look at his cock. “And you’re already half hard. Someone is as eager as I am. Chest against the door.”
He does exactly as told, pressing his bubble butt out some, and it looks fucking delicious.
“Love this ass.” I step closer, setting my bag on the floor. “So round.” I smack it, the sound echoing through the space.
“Fuck.” He breathes out. “More.”
“I’ll give you a spanking later. Right now, I just want to fuck. This is already taking longer than I planned.”
James has told me before that he likes to feel used, and I really fucking want to use him. I open my pants. I didn’t wear underwear, but there’s a pair packed for later. My dick was hard the second I saw him, anticipating this—anticipating him.
“Scoot back a little and bend forward. Spread your ass cheeks for me.”
“Yes, Sir,” he says breathily, bending beautifully for me.
“Fuck.” I trace the small, black plug stuffed between his cheeks. “One day I’d like to come inside you. Spend a whole day filling you and then plug you all up so none of it can come out.”
“Yes. God. Yes. I’d love that.”
“I know you would, naughty boy.”
He gasps when I twist and pull the plug out, being sure to set it on the table, not wanting to make a mess for him.
“Don’t move, hole,” I tell him, James giving me a deep, gruff whimper in response.
He’s beautifully open for me, wide and gaping. The sight makes my cock weep.
I pull the lube and condom from my bag, suit up, getting myself nice and slick for him before I grab James’s hips and enter him with one, sharp thrust.
“Oh fuck! Thank you, Sir, for giving me your cock.”
Those are maybe the sexiest words I’ve ever heard. I’m drunk off them, high off him. Off this perfect fucking man, who is so structured, such a rule follower in so many ways, but he’s also the man who came here, wearing a plug and is now bent over, holding his ass open so I can use him as my hole.
I thread the fingers of my right hand through his hair, tightening my hold and pulling his head back. He takes it, eyes glazed over with lust as I pound into his ass.
“Needed. This,” he says choppily, the tight glove of his body already close to pushing me over the edge.
“You think about it every day, don’t you? Riding my dick. Me owning this ass.”
“Yes, Colton.”
“You like being my hole.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You like being my good boy.”
“Yes. Never felt like a good boy until you.”
My hips stutter at that, losing my rhythm for a moment. How has no one made him feel good before? Damned if I don’t want to make sure he always feels that way.
I fuck him harder and faster, desperate for my nut. “My good little hole is going to make me come.”
“Can I, Sir?”
“No.”
“Please,” he begs.
“Mmm. I don’t think so. I like making you suffer. And you’ll suffer for me because it’s what I want, won’t you?”
“Yes. Whatever you want.”
“That’s my good boy.” I push him forward so he’s standing up straight, pressing his chest against the door as I take him. I kiss the back of his neck, his shoulder, before pressing my teeth into him and biting.
“Oh fuck!” he calls out. “I’m going to come.”
“No.” I reach down, grabbing his balls and pulling them away from his body. He’s slick, his precum having run down his shaft.
“I’m almost done. Be real still for me and let me fill my hole.” He feels like he’s mine, and while we continue to do this, he is.
“Yes, Sir,” he says as I slam into him. I don’t hold back anymore, let myself careen off the ledge and dive headfirst into pleasure. My cock jerks, filling the condom with my load, and I keep going until I’m wrung dry.
We’re both breathing heavily, my body practically holding James’s up, as I pull out of him and instruct, “Turn around and kneel.”
He does, his dick flushed and swollen, begging for release I’m not ready to give him.
I pull the condom off. “Do you want it?” And damned if he doesn’t whimper. “Open.”
I turn the condom upside down over his mouth, squeezing out my cum from inside. It must taste like rubber, but he doesn’t seem to mind as I squeeze out every bit I can, then bend over and spit in his mouth again. “Swallow.”
He does, then looks up at me and beams—sweaty and hard, denied his pleasure, but riding the high of giving me mine, and if I wasn’t already gone for him, I definitely am now.
I pull up my pants, tucking myself away. I’ll worry about the mess later.
“Come here.” I tug him to his feet, then take his mouth, pushing my tongue inside, tangling my hands through his dark hair, wanting him to feel as possessed as I feel possessive.
“Come on. I want you to shower with me.”
His brows draw together, forehead wrinkling, looking as confused as if I told him we’re going to jump off a mountain.
“Is that a limit for you?”
“No, Sir. It’s just…unexpected. I don’t usually do things like that with Doms.”
“I’m not like them. This isn’t like what you did with them. Come.”
I take his hand and grab my bag. James says he needs his phone in case one of the kids or the school calls, so I let him grab it before I take him upstairs.
“You’ll stay naked all day. I want to see you and touch you whenever I want.” I set my bag on a chair in his room, then move into the en suite.
“Are you ever going to let me come?”
“Maybe.”
I start the water, then remove my clothes, handing him each item and watching James fold them and set them on the bathroom counter.
When I’m naked, I open the glass shower door and signal for James to go in, following behind.
He immediately reaches for the sponge, but I take it from him. “No. I’m taking care of you.”
I wash his body, slowly, teasingly, savoring every gasp and moan and plea, especially when I clean his ass, groin, and pecs. Once he’s rinsed off, I squeeze his chest, lick his nipples, massage his neck, and feel him relax.
“Hair now,” I instruct, then wash that for him too, rinse it, before following the same process with the conditioner.
He’d softened some, but he’s hardened again, and I love leaving him eager and thirsty for more.
“My turn,” I tell him. He picks up the sponge, but I shake my head. “With your tongue.”
His eyes roll back in this blissed-out way that does all sorts of things for me. I step away from the spray, James following before asking, “Where should I start?”
“Neck and work your way down.”
He nods before diving right in, licking and lapping at my neck like a dog.
When he’s finished there, I lift my right arm.
James doesn’t hesitate before burying his face in my pit, using his tongue on me like he only has one job in the world and that’s to brush his tongue along every inch of my body.
He goes from one pit to the other, even sucking on the hairs there.
He sucks and licks my pecs, nursing on my nipples before going to wide, long strips with his tongue…
down…down… He kneels and does my stomach, my groin, sucking my half-hard dick into his mouth.
He’s being good and doesn’t try to blow me, moving down to lap at my balls, pressing, lifting them, tongue-bathing me.
“You don’t understand what you do to me, dreamer.” I run my fingers through his hair.
He doesn’t answer, just keeps trying to do a good job, moving to my thighs next, laving one, then the other, then my knees.
I lift my left leg, putting my foot on the bench seat, making it easier on him to do my shins.
He licks my toes, sucking each of them, brushing his tongue over the arch of my foot, then moving to the other leg.
When I turn around, he stands up and does the same to my shoulders, back, then kneels for my ass. I showered this morning, so I say, “Continue.”
James licks and sucks all over each ass cheek before spreading them.
Bottoming isn’t my thing. I’ve done it and will do it.
It’s not my preference, but I do love a tongue at my hole, or even up my ass.
He doesn’t press in, but he does lick my crease, up and down, each time paying extra attention to my rim.
He doesn’t stop until he’s at my feet again, and I turn around, James looking up at me, eager for praise, for attention, instruction—he would take and love any of it, preen and thrive from it.
I cup his face, tilt his head up, press my thumb between his lips.
“You’re so beautiful.” It’s not what I expected to say, but it’s the truth.
I pull my thumb out of his mouth, and he drops his forehead against my abs, seeming unable to look at me. “Thank you, Sir.”
Does he not believe it? Not know how to act hearing it?
I pull him to his feet and take his mouth, kissing him until my jaw hurts and the water begins to cool. I turn it off and grab two towels. “I’ll make you lunch.” I have a cooler in the truck with everything I need.
“And I have to be naked the whole time?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. I need to get my fill so I can imagine exactly what you look like when you’re teaching in class.”
“I shouldn’t find that as hot as I do.”
“You like it, and that’s okay.” As long as we’re smart, as long as we don’t get caught, everything will be okay.