Chapter 16
AREK
Being able to breed Kylen whenever I want turns out to be my favorite part of every day.
I may have ordered some bondage ropes, too.
He was absolutely insatiable when we left the class last week.
Because I ordered them from a legitimate BDSM website, they’re being shipped far more slowly than if I’d settled for the ’Zon special.
Which is fine. It’s not like there aren’t other things we can do. For instance, this morning, I’m licking all over his nipples and chest. Tasting his sweaty skin mixed with the hint of his dried cum from earlier in the night.
We don’t use foreplay much. The easiest explanation as to why is that, at Hush, I simply wanted to fuck.
The afternoon with Kylen wasn’t my first visit to Hush Anonymous.
It was maybe my sixth. When I don’t feel like putting effort into getting laid, and all I wanted to do was fuck without putting in the work, it was an easy enough outlet.
I’m not a selfish lover, but foreplay is only fun when I’m in the mood for it.
With Kylen, it’s a combination of the black-and-white side of my brain focused on one thing—breeding him. Making sure the world knows that he belongs to me. It’s barbaric. Neanderthal. I want to paint his insides with my cum and brand his outsides with my teeth marks and handprints.
More than anything, jumping straight to penetrative sex is about fulfilling the loud need inside me to make sure everyone knows on a molecular level that Kylen is mine and mine alone. It’s a warning. I will end anyone who touches him.
However, since the bondage class, something inside me has clicked, and I want to do other things now, too.
I want to taste his skin. Memorize the way he breathes as his arousal spikes.
Commit the way his muscles flex under my touch and his body undulates beneath me as I lick him, suck his nipples, touch him everywhere.
Just as my tongue drops into his navel, his fingers tighten in my hair, and he pulls me up. A darkness that isn’t sexy flashes in his eyes when I meet them. It’s just skittering away as I look into his face.
“Don’t suck my dick,” he whispers. “Please.”
I study his face, trying to find the answer to why. To my obsessive brain, that’s a strange thing not to like. I’ve met a couple guys here and there who don’t get off to blowies. Blowjobs just don’t do it for them. That’s cool. To each their own.
They still let me suck their dick. It’s still foreplay. Exploration. But that’s all it is. It’s not a means to get off. Just a little play for them. They weren’t averse to it like Kylen is. He doesn’t even like me to touch his dick.
Since leaving Hush and making him mine, I think foreplay has been stalled because of this one thing. Yes, there are other things you can do in foreplay, and I’m not opposed to any of them. Now that I’m looking at him, I think maybe he has an aversion to doing the touching and sucking himself, too.
The responsible thing would be to ask about it. Right? Is that what I’m supposed to do? Or am I supposed to wait until he volunteers an explanation?
When I can’t decide which direction is the correct one, I press my mouth to his and then grip his hips, rolling us so he’s on top of me. “Time for you to ride me, little kit.”
Kylen gasps as he settles on top of me. “I… I don’t know—I’ve never…”
I bite his lip just shy of breaking skin to stop his nervous rambling. He whimpers, his body going slack against me. “You can never do anything wrong with me,” I assure him, brushing his tangled hair from his forehead.
The nervous lines on his face smooth a little. “You say that, but what if I’m awful at it?”
His cheeks burn under my fingers. My cock loves when he blushes. There’s nothing sexier than that.
“You won’t be.”
Kylen shakes his head, chews on his bottom lip, and averts his eyes. “Yes, I can be,” he whispers.
I really wish I understood what was bothering him so I knew how to fix it. I’ve never considered my antisocial disorder a disadvantage before claiming Kylen. I’m not equipped to reassure him when I don’t understand exactly what’s bothering him.
Framing his face with both of my hands, I angle his eyes back to mine. “I promise you, I’m going to love the way you ride me, little kit. You can’t do this wrong. Okay?”
A breath rushes from his lips, and he nods.
His flush remains firmly in place as he pulls back to sit up.
I’m not sure this man could get any redder, but I’m wrong.
I think his flush covers his entire body.
I can practically see the red in his cheeks bleed down his neck and begin seeping over his shoulders.
“So fucking sexy,” I murmur, tracing his collarbone with my finger.
Kylen dips his head as he reaches between his legs to position my cock. His hand hesitates, and I watch his face closely. I just realized he’s never touched my dick. Everything about him freezes, his hand hovering over my hard cock lying over my stomach.
He swallows, eyes flickering to mine briefly. They look wild. Panicked?
I cover his hand with mine and slowly bring it to my cock. His entire body jerks slightly when his hand lies flat against my dick. A quiet gasp escapes, and then he takes a deep breath.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
There’s a lot about Kylen that I don’t know.
Right now, it becomes blindingly obvious that I need to know all his secrets.
It’s not only a matter of respecting his boundaries.
How can I make sure he’s always happy if I don’t know why those boundaries are in place?
He said he doesn’t want me to suck his dick, but it’s been clear that he doesn’t particularly want me to touch his dick either.
Honestly, I should probably be praised for inferring that from our activities and paying attention to his reactions as a neurotypical person would.
Not because I need a gold star for respecting someone’s boundaries, but because I’m shit at reading silent requests.
This one I got. All on my own. With a brain that doesn’t get people.
Still. If I knew why, I might be able to know how to avoid everything that might make him uncomfortable.
There’s probably more to it than these two things that I don’t understand.
For instance, his touching me is something that also made him anxious.
I didn’t know that until just now, and maybe someone who isn’t a psychopath might have already figured that out.
I keep my hand resting over his on top of my cock. Not forcefully. I’m trying for comfort and support. Whether that can be related through my hand over his on top of my dick? I don’t know.
Kylen takes another deep breath, and his hand curls around my cock. He shivers, eyes meeting mine shyly. I release his hand, bringing both of mine under my head and allowing him to move at his own pace. Of his own volition.
He stares at his hand around my dick. Or maybe my dick in general. His chest rises and falls with deep, slow breaths, as if maybe he’s forcing himself to be calm. That’s a thing, yes?
His hand tightens a little and slides up to the top of my cock, the ring of his fingers stopping just under my crown. Then he slides down to the base, and I see a shiver move over him. I smile.
Swallowing thickly, Kylen stands my dick up and adjusts so he’s hovering over it. Once again, his cheeks are bright, hot red. I really want to lick them. Taste the heat of his bashfulness.
He holds my cock in place as he slowly presses his body down. Now I feel him shaking. So I talk to him as I always do when I’m entering his body. He likes that. It always seems to calm him.
“Just like that, Kylen,” I encourage, watching his face intently and ignoring the way his tight body slowly strangles my dick. “Perfect. That’s exactly right. Relax.”
He glances at me, and I think he doesn’t appreciate the last suggestion. I grin.
Kylen releases my dick, confident it’ll continue to go where it should, and places both his hands on my chest as he slowly sinks down my length.
I groan as I say, “That’s it, little kit. You like the feel of me inside you?”
He nods.
“Feels good like this, doesn’t it?”
Kylen nods again, a quiet whimper escaping his slightly parted lips as his legs spread wider, bringing my cock deeper. His back arches. The gasp he releases is loud.
“That’s it, Kylen,” I praise. “Good. Get settled. Feel how deep I am like this? Feels good, right?”
“Yes,” he says, voice more of a whine than his actual voice. He sits up a little, and my cock is fully sheathed inside him. Another whimper escapes, and I shiver in anticipation. He’s so fucking sexy like this. So. Sexy.
“Ride me,” I say. “Find what feels good and get yourself off on my dick.”
He moves slowly at first. The roll of his hips is barely there. When he rises up, it’s probably less than an inch. For what feels like an eternity, he barely moves. I’m not entirely sure if it’s his lack of confidence or if he’s overwhelmed.
I remember the first few times I’d ridden someone like this.
It can certainly feel overwhelming because the sense of being stuffed so full that you can’t catch your breath is a real thing.
Especially when they’re well-endowed. I’m not huge, but I’m on the thicker side and maybe just over average in length.
Depending on the stats you’re looking at for ‘average,’ since they tend to change from site to site.
So, based on the most common numbers, I think I’m a little bigger than average all the way around.
I’ve always just called what I have pleasing because I know how to use it, and I’ve never had any complaints.
Kylen slowly begins moving with more purpose. Experimenting with what feels good and what feels better. I think he’s caught between bouncing on my cock and grinding down, so I rub against all the most sensitive places inside him.
I’m not sure it’s confidence he gains so much as getting lost in the feel of it. I’m hypnotized by the pleasure-filled expressions dancing across his face. His fingers dig into my chest as his arousal climbs. His arms begin to shake. His whines get louder and more desperate.
“Arek,” he says breathlessly as his rhythm breaks. It’s clear that he can’t decide whether he wants to ride or grind. “Please.”
“You have this,” I assure him, covering his hands with mine. “Get yourself off.”
“I can’t,” he complains. “It’s too… too much. I can’t.”
“You can. Focus on your pleasure. What feels good?”
“It’s too good,” he whines. “I can’t. I can’t…”
I realize that he keeps losing his rhythm. Maybe just before he reaches climax. Maybe that’s why frustrated little sobs leave him.
“Look at me, little kit.” His eyes rise. They’re glassy and wet at the corners. “You can. Get yourself off on my dick. I know you can.”
He whines, and it nearly undoes me. I grip his hands tighter and give in a little.
When he pulls up, I curl my hips in to meet his downward thrust, making sure that he feels my dick hit his prostate.
He likes that. Kylen continues, and I join him a little.
Just enough to ensure that he gets pleasure with every thrust.
His frustration climbs in equal measure to his pleasure until, finally, he breaks. As soon as his orgasm begins, I yank him down to my chest and wrap my arms around him so I can fuck him through it.
Kylen’s body jerks and spasms, constricts around me as he rides through the pleasure. Hot, sticky cum spills between our bodies as he writhes through it.
“That’s it,” I tell him, loving the way his ass clenches rhythmically around my cock. “Perfect, Kylen. Feel so good like that, don’t you? Keep coming for me. Cover us in your seed.”
He buries his face in my neck when his orgasm finally runs its course.
His arms tuck under me, hugging me tightly as I continue to fuck him.
His quiet grunts, the way his fingers dig into my back with every thrust, but his legs spread wide for me, giving me unhindered access to his body, reaches something deep inside me.
I grip him tightly, my thrusts getting harder and more demanding.
Kylen doesn’t tense up at all. He welcomes my harsh use of him, even oversensitive from his own orgasm as he is.
His whines, whimpers, and grunts—all those sexy sounds fill my head until I finally spill into his ass, burying my cock deeply to unload everything I have.
Then we’re still, my heart racing with consuming heat from my arousal.
“Feel good?” I ask.
Kylen nods. “That’s overwhelming,” he says quietly.
“Riding?” I clarify.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding along with his answer. “I just… it was hard to keep going.”
“Did you like it or not?”
“I did, but I’m not good at it.”
“You’re wrong. You’re fucking epic at it.”
Kylen buries his face in my chest and shakes his head. “I don’t think you’d tell me if I was bad at it.”
“I don’t think you can be bad at it. People can be bad at sex, but you’re not.”
He sighs. I’m not sure he’s convinced that I mean that.
He hasn’t figured out yet that I won’t lie to him.
Not even to save his feelings. Lying is easy.
My brain was programmed to lie. I grew up being taught about who you never lie to.
The people who mean most to you are the ones you always tell the truth to.
No matter what that truth is. You don’t build trust on lies.
“I like when you take over,” Kylen says after a minute. “I like the way you fuck me.”
A groan rumbles through my chest in response. Fuck. Yes, I like that. A whole fucking lot.
“I do too,” I agree. “But it’s good for you to know what feels good in different positions. It’s good for you to learn about yourself.”
Kylen tucks himself into me, shivering a little. I reach for the blankets and tug them over until he’s covered. His smile presses into my skin, and I smile in return, even if he doesn’t see it.