13. Henry #2
“Please, can I come?” I rasp, my throat dry, as my body clenches, searching for friction.
“No. Now stop trying to milk my thumb like it’s a cock. You’ll get what I give you, and I already told you I’m not fucking you again tonight.”
“Then why?” I let my question die, suddenly not brave enough to ask why his thumb is inside of me if it’s not a prelude to more sex.
A soft smile spreads across his lips. “I wanted to check that you were okay and not too sore. I’m assuming that as you’re trying to fuck my hand, everything is feeling good?”
“Empty,” I whimper, swallowing past the lump that’s formed in my throat.
“I stretched you out pretty good to make sure I wouldn’t hurt you. But I fucked plenty of my cum into you, if you’re feeling empty, it’s because you let it all drip out of you.”
A sound falls from my lips, an indecipherable word that means nothing, but it must tell Anders something because he coos sympathetically.
“Oh, Kitten, did your tight little hole like being stuffed full of me?”
I nod, feeling my cheeks heat again. I’ve never blushed as much as I have since I met this man.
“I’ll get you some plugs. Then if you’re still feeling needy after I fuck you, or you want to keep all my cum inside of you, you can wear them for me.”
Plug? Does he mean a butt plug?
My ass clenches involuntarily, and Anders laughs.
“Oh, Henry, you like that idea, don’t you?”
I don’t speak, I can’t, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he slowly pulls his thumb out of me, leaving me open and empty and needier than ever.
I must whine, or protest, because he rolls me to my back, rising over me, one hand braced beside my head, keeping his weight off me, while he fists my cock with his other hand.
“This dick is mine now, isn’t it, Boy?” he demands.
“Yes,” I gasp, nodding.
“You don’t come until I say.”
I nod again.
Staring at me, he blinks, and I feel tears prickle at the backs of my eyes. I’ve never felt so desperate, and it’s him. He’s making me feel this way. I’m overwhelmed and confused, and I need him to make it better.
“Please,” I beg.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better, but that’s the last time, tonight. No more. Do you understand?”
I nod frantically.
Kissing me quickly, he pulls back, shuffling down the bed until he positions himself between my thighs. Dipping his head, he swallows my dick whole, and I’m done. I explode into his mouth, hot cum pouring from my cock like I haven’t come in years instead of minutes.
I brace for Anders to react, but he doesn’t pull back as he easily swallows all of my cum, cocooning my dick with the heat of his mouth.
When I finally stop coming, he sucks me clean, swirling his tongue around the head one last time before he retreats, pulling off my cock with a satisfying pop sound.
“You taste fucking delicious, Kitten,” he praises. “Now let’s get you cleaned up before bed.”
Scooping me off the mattress, he carries me into the bathroom like I’m weightless, then he washes me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever owned.
I sleep wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, weight, and safety. Then I’m woken by the feeling of my ass cheeks being parted, and a wet, slick finger probing my hole.
“This pucker is nice and tight again, Kitten,” he says, circling my hole with the tip of his finger. “How sore are you?”
I take a moment to assess my body. There’s a lingering soreness in the skin where he’s touching, but there’s no pain, just a sense of having been used and stretched. “I’m okay,” I croak, my voice still full of sleep.
“I didn’t ask if you were okay, I asked how sore you are,” he growls impatiently.
“Maybe a little, but there’s no pain,” I tell him, wanting to answer him fully.
“Good boy,” he praises, and his words heat me from the inside.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I ask, feeling shockingly brave.
“No, not this morning.”
“Tonight?” I question eagerly.
“Would you like that?” he asks, his voice full of teasing.
“Yes.”
“Get onto all fours, let me see how red and puffy your little hole is,” he orders, even though his tone is still playful.
We’re both naked, but I freeze, unsure about putting myself on display like that, even though his cock was in me last night.
“Are you feeling shy? You shouldn’t be, I’ve touched every inch of you. I’ve had my fingers and cock in that tight little ass of yours. There’s nothing about you that I won’t have access to, so get onto all fours so I can see how sore your hole is.”
It feels awkward as I slowly position myself on my knees, my weight resting on my hands, my head hanging down, my eyes staring at the sheets below.
Looking between my legs, I feel the bed move and see him kneel behind me as his fingers part my cheeks wide, putting me on display for his perusal.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting him to do, but when wetness lands on my hole, I jerk, almost falling forward.
Before I can steady myself, something hot and wet laps at me, and I squeak.
It takes me longer than it should to realize it’s his tongue.
His tongue is licking and probing at my hole, making my legs go weak, and feral, animalistic sounds fall from my lips.
The onslaught of pleasure ends far too soon, and cool air replaces his hot saliva as Anders pulls back, the fingers that were holding my ass open to him retreating until he’s holding my hips to steady me.
“Your hole is a little swollen, but nothing to worry about,” he says matter-of-factly, swatting me gently on the butt as he rolls off the bed to stand beside my head, holding out his hand for me to take.
“Come on, you need to get to work.”
Mouth agape, I glare at him, my dick once again rock-hard and ready for release. “Anders, please,” I say, unashamedly begging for him to fuck me, or make me come, or do something to release the pressure that seems to be at a constant boil whenever I’m near him.
“Oh, Kitten, you don’t get to come again until I’m inside of you, so I suggest you tell your needy little cock to calm down, or you’re going to have a thoroughly miserable day at work.”
“Then make me come,” I whine, unsure where this demanding version of myself has come from.
Reaching out, Anders wraps his hand around my hardness, gripping me just a shade too tightly. “Who does this cock belong to?” he demands.
I want to yell that it’s mine and that I need to come, but I know that’s not what he wants to hear. “You. It’s yours,” I whisper.
“That’s right, Boy. This cock is mine, and I get to say how and when and how often you come. And you don’t get to come again until I pick you up from work and have my dick impaled in your ass. So, calm the fuck down.”
The stern, authoritarian timbre of his voice makes me feel both chastened and excited as I squeeze my eyes closed and will my dick to soften. It doesn’t work, but my arousal does lessen to a point where I’m not worried I’m going to explode without being touched.
“Good Boy, now let’s get you ready for work.”
Nodding, I let him turn me and nudge me toward the bathroom. Following close behind me, he steers me toward the toilet, then reaches around me and holds my hard dick down until I pee.
The oddly intimate gesture still feels weird, but I’m surprised by how quickly I’ve gotten used to it, not even trying to stop him or take over the holding of my junk.
“Last night was fucking perfect, you’re perfect. The perfect Kitten and all mine. I’m a lucky man,” he croons, pressing soft kisses to my neck and making me sigh happily.
Anders has this uncanny ability to make me feel cherished while he oversteps a boundary, and I’m unsure how I feel about that. Insisting that he be the one to hold my dick while I pee is weird, but praising me and kissing me while he does it counteracts the weirdness and makes it sweet and caring.
Maybe this is what he meant when he said he had to be careful not to allow himself to take over my life.
Maybe he actually meant that he’d want to be part of every aspect of my personal care.
I don’t think I’d mind that, especially not if he was kissing me and telling me how perfect I am and how lucky he is while he did it.
Once we’re washed and dressed, he makes us both pancakes with fresh fruit, then hands me a brown bag from the refrigerator.
“Lunch,” he says when I stare at the bag questioningly.
“You made me a brown bag lunch?” I question, still not quite believing what I’m seeing.
“I can come and pick you up at lunchtime and take you out for something to eat if you’d prefer?” he offers.
“No,” I say quickly, not quite ready for everyone to know we’re…dating, just yet.
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t question me, instead, he wiggles the bag and I reach out and take it, holding it to my chest like it’s treasure not a sandwich.
He doesn’t realize it, but this is the first time in twenty-two years that anyone has ever bothered to make me lunch or even care if I eat at all.
Something like this may seem like a small thing to him, but to me it’s huge, and this is it, this is the moment when I admit to myself that I’m in love. I’m in love with Anders, and from this moment onward, I’m his—heart, soul and everything else in between.