Part Six For His Eyes Only #2
Tentative, not wanting to do anything that Joe might take offense at, Scott lapped gently at the tip of Joe’s tongue as it slid further into his mouth.
Joe moved one of his hands to the back of Scott’s head and wound his fingers into those strands of hair that weren’t trapped by the blindfold.
He forced Scott to tilt back his head even further, then kept him trapped at that angle.
Joe deepened the kiss and took complete possession of Scott’s mouth as if it was the easiest thing in the world. More than happy to follow Joe’s lead, Scott let it happen.
Without his sight, his other senses seemed determined to work overtime. Arching his back, Scott pressed his body against Joe’s. Even the sensation of his own clothes rubbing against his skin had him shivering with need until, as suddenly as Joe had begun the kiss, he ended it.
Joe took a step back, breaking all contact between them. Scott stretched his arms out, but Joe was no longer within his reach.
“Unless you intend to use your safe word in the next three seconds, I suggest you start stripping, because, if I have to remove your clothes for you, there’s no guarantee they’ll be in any fit state for you to put back on when you leave.”
It wasn’t fair—Joe sounded so bloody calm, and Scott could barely remember how to do anything other than pray for another kiss. Eventually, Joe’s warning sank in.
Scott shrugged off his coat, but once he had it in his hand, he had no idea what to do with it, had no way to know if there was anywhere suitable for him to put it.
“I’ll take it.” The coat slipped from Scott’s grasp as Joe claimed it.
Scott reached for his shirt buttons. They were smaller and more fiddly to undo. Without his sight, Scott was clumsier than ever.
Joe made no comment when Scott eventually handed the shirt over.
Crouching down, Scott removed his shoes and socks.
His trousers and boxers were next. Once they were removed, Scott stood completely naked.
He assumed he was doing that directly in front of Joe, but he really didn’t know.
Not being able to see made Scott acutely aware of how vulnerable he was.
His hands formed into nervous fists at his sides.
“Joe?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Joe promised.
Scott took a step to his left, shuffling his bare feet on the cold tile floor as he desperately tried to find a posture that might make him look like less of an idiot while he stood around, naked and hard, waiting for another order.
Folding his arms across his chest would look defensive. Trying to cover his cock would be pointless. Pockets, Scott realised—that was what he needed, pockets he could push his hands into and—
“Come here.”
Scott turned his head toward the sound of Joe’s voice. Hesitant, waving his arms about in front of him and feeling along the floor with his toes, Scott made his way toward where he hoped Joe stood.
His fingers brushed against something. It felt a bit like leather, maybe like some sort of leather cushion?
“Sit down,” Joe ordered.
Joe was doing something as he spoke. Metal rattled against metal, but Scott couldn’t work out what made those sounds as he turned and perched nervously on the edge of the seat, waiting for another order—preferably one that involved taking off the damn blindfold.
“Sit back properly,” Joe corrected. “There’s a back support. Lean against it”
Scott wriggled further onto the seat, trying not to think about his hard-on bobbing in front of him every time he moved.
He reached behind him, trying to find the back of the chair.
It seemed to slope away from him at a really strange angle.
Frowning behind the blindfold, Scott leaned back well over forty-five degrees, until he finally lay against it.
Whatever the chair was upholstered with was cold against his skin, but it quickly warmed up. That was good…
Scott took a deep breath and tried to remain calm, but he was incapable of slowing his racing pulse. Far too much adrenaline raced through him as he waited for Joe to really get their date started—possibly by telling him why he’d brought him there of all places.
Another metallic rattle. This time it came from somewhere just above Scott’s head. He tilted back his head, automatically trying to see what it was.
Scott jumped when Joe wrapped his hand around his wrist, but it wasn’t until Joe guided his hand toward something above his head and fastened some sort of restraint around his wrist that every muscle in his body tensed.
* * * * *
When Scott tried to pull his hand away, Joe automatically tightened his grip on the cuff he’d placed around Scott’s wrist. It wasn’t difficult to keep Scott’s hand where he wanted it.
Joe waited a moment, to see if Scott wanted to speak up and yell his safe word at the top of his lungs.
But Joe’s initial instinct seemed to have been right.
Scott’s reaction was borne of surprise rather than any real objection to being tied up.
Fastening the first cuff to the metal rail at the top of the bench, Joe repeated the process with Scott’s other hand.
Just as Joe suspected, Scott made no attempt to pull away this time.
He accepted the bondage with apparent pleasure.
His erection remained firm, pointing straight up toward the ceiling of the salon’s back room.
Joe smiled, his own cock growing harder at the sight of Scott’s natural submission. Making his way around the bench, Joe took hold of one of Scott’s ankles. Momentary tension filled Scott’s leg, before he relaxed and gave Joe his silent consent to bind his ankles as well.
Instead of reaching for another cuff, Joe lifted Scott’s leg and placed it neatly in one of the stirrups attached to the salon’s waxing bench. Scott’s blindfold shifted slightly as he frowned. Joe stared down at him, wondering if Scott had guessed what he intended to do with him yet.
“Joe?”
Nope. Joe’s smile morphed into a grin. Scott obviously didn’t have a clue.
“Yes, Scott?” Joe asked, his tone as innocent as he could make it. Lifting Scott’s other leg, he placed it in the stirrup on the other side of the bench, before stepping back to admire the picture he’d created.
Naked and helpless, Scott had never looked more gorgeous. Joe moved closer and stood between Scott’s spread legs. He ran his fingers through the fine blond hairs that covered Scott’s balls and the area around his cock. Before long, Scott was going to look even better.
“W-what are you…?” Scott began. “I m-mean…?” He cleared his throat, apparently unable to find a whole sentence that fitted the situation.
Joe didn’t rush to help him out. Stroking his fingers through the strands of hair above Scott’s cock, he followed the light blond trail all the way up to his navel, then back down to the root of his erection.
“What are you g-going to do to me?” Scott finally blurted out. He didn’t sound scared as such—more like nervous and fascinated in equal measure.
“I’m going to get rid of all this,” Joe said, tugging lightly at a few of the strands. “Shave you nice and clean for me.”
Joe studied all that was visible of Scott’s face, but it was impossible to read his expression accurately past the blindfold. He half expected a loud “no”, quickly followed by Scott’s safe word, but it didn’t come.
A few more seconds of silence passed.
“Any comment?” Joe prompted.
Scott’s chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. He shook his head.
Joe’s eyes narrowed as he waited for the gesture to become a lie when Scott finally got around to voicing his objections. But no, Joe’s lips quirked into a smile as his frown eased. That really was it. Scott was his to do with as he pleased.
Joe dropped his gaze to Scott’s cock. Trailing his knuckles along the underside of Scott’s shaft, he watched the way Scott’s stomach muscles tensed and relaxed, making his cock twitch, almost as if it were doing a little dance for Joe.
Now completely focused on the scene before him, Joe trailed his fingers over the light blond curls on Scott’s balls one last time. With his other hand, he reached for the electric trimmers he’d placed on the metal tray next to the waxing bench.
Scott flinched as the clippers whirred noisily into motion. He pulled at the cuffs and lifted his arse off the edge of the bench as he kicked out against the stirrups. The sturdy piece of furniture didn’t even sway.
Joe caught hold of Scott’s cock and forced the rigid shaft to point down toward the stool he sat on, giving no weight to any consideration other than what would make his task easier to complete.
Scott gasped.
“Uncomfortable?” Joe prompted, glancing up.
“A-a little,” Scott admitted. “But…but I don’t m-mind.”
“Good boy.” Joe scooted forward to sit on the very edge of his stool and placed the shaver on the edge of Scott’s pubic hairline. As he brought it forward, pale blond hairs fell away.
Scott whimpered and pressed his head back against the waxing bench. Joe flicked his gaze between Scott’s face and his crotch as he swept another strip of hair away.
Pausing, Joe ran his fingers over the tiny spikes of hair the clippers had left in its wake and brushed away all the loose strands. Scott lifted his hips off the bench and pushed his crotch up, as eager for his touch as ever.
Pre-cum leaked onto Joe’s hand as Scott’s shaft slid against his other palm.
Joe nodded his approval as he worked the clippers over the rest of the hairs around the base of Scott’s cock, taking each strand down to just a few millimetres in length.
Scott let out a breath of relief when Joe finally allowed Scott’s cock to rise back into its naturally erect position. A murmur of pleasure followed as Joe traced his fingers over Scott’s partially-shaved skin.
“Speak up,” Joe ordered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Scott parted his lips and flicked his tongue out to moisten them. “I…”
Joe rubbed his thumb over the almost-bare skin again.