Part Six For His Eyes Only #4
Joe’s hand went to his fly; his body more than happy to take over while his brain was occupied with complications his cock didn’t give a damn about.
Scott lifted his head again. He turned his blindfolded eyes toward Joe’s crotch as if he thought the leather might disappear if he stared hard enough. Joe shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen, not while Joe was the only one who had a say in the matter.
Joe pushed his jeans down his thighs. Ignoring his hard-on for now, he ran his fingers through the thick dark thatch of curls above his cock.
He looked back and forth between Scott’s shaved skin and his own pubic hair, glorying in the differences between them and, even more than that, relishing the fact that he was the one who had created those differences.
As glorious as the contrast was, it wasn’t long before Joe had to move his hand to his cock. He stroked himself a couple of times before stepping forward and letting his thighs come to rest on the edge of the waxing bench.
Releasing his cock, Joe leaned forward and grasped the metal bar that Scott’s cuffs were attached to. Scott frowned again, as if he once more found it impossible to work out what was going on.
Joe leaned a little further. His cock brushed against Scott’s newly shaved skin. They both gasped at the same time.
Joe stared down at Scott’s blindfolded face as he rolled his hips, rubbing their cocks together, letting his balls brush against Scott’s shaved sac—hair moving against bare skin, a dominant moving against a submissive.
Dipping his head, Joe brushed his cheek against Scott’s, just below the line of the blindfold. Scott had obviously shaved his face before their date; Joe had made a conscious decision not to.
The contrasts between them extended far beyond their balls.
Scott whimpered. He turned his head. Their lips met.
Joe instantly took control of the kiss. There was no dramatic physical difference between their mouths.
Nothing there marked either of them out as seeking a different role.
It was all about action now, and Joe thrust his tongue into Scott’s mouth, demanding that Scott follow his lead.
Scott parted his lips in welcome, lapping at Joe’s tongue, sucking on the tip as it slid in to and out of his mouth.
Joe’s grip on the bar behind the waxing bench turned white-knuckled. His movements sped up. Pre-cum slicked their movements as Scott squirmed beneath Joe’s thrusts.
Joe nipped at Scott’s bottom lip, ordering Scott to calm down.
When Scott gave a shocked little gasp and froze in position, Joe forced himself to fall motionless too.
He stared down at Scott for several long seconds before beginning to move again.
This time, he made a point of emphasising the control he had over both their bodies.
He slid his hands along the bar until they rested over the chains attached to Scott’s cuffs. Joe’s hold on the metal links effectively shortened the chain and took away a little more of Scott’s freedom.
Dipping his head, Joe put his lips to Scott’s ear. “You have permission to come, make the most of it because you never know how long it will be before I give you another chance.”
Scott groaned with frustration and need. It was music to Joe’s ears.
Joe made his thrusts slow and deliberate as he looked down between their bodies to watch their cocks slide against each other. The contrast was glorious. Glancing up at their hands sent an extra wave of pleasure rushing through Joe’s veins; Scott’s wrists in cuffs were dazzling too.
Scott tossed his head back. His occasional moans and whimpers became a steady stream. Within what felt like moments, they grew into a raging torrent. Scott thrust his hips up off the table in jerky little movements that were obviously beyond his control.
Without any warning, Joe was caught up in the same river of ecstasy Scott seemed to have been swept away by.
It was no pretty little brook that people picnicked alongside. White water rapids surrounded Joe and tossed him against the rocks. His hearing cut out, overpowered by the roar of an upcoming waterfall. Joe’s eyes dropped closed.
Scott cried out as he tumbled over the falls. The sound seemed to come from a very long way away. Joe grabbed hold of Scott’s wrists, determined not to lose him in the deep, swirling pool at the base of the drop.
Joe’s own yell was drowned out by the pounding in his ears as he came, thrusting violently against Scott’s crotch as they both spilled their loads between them.
As he finally stopped, gasping for breath and still barely able to get his head above the surface of the water, Joe slumped forward, letting his full weight come to rest against Scott.
* * * * *
Scott tried to breathe. It wasn’t easy, but very little of that was down to the pressure of Joe’s body-weight on his chest. Scott wasn’t sure it was physically possible to drown in pleasure, but the bliss that had swirled through him had taken his breath away and made his head spin, just as if he were deep underwater.
They were pressed together so tightly, Scott could feel every beat of Joe’s heart.
He could almost swear their pulses had fallen into sync as they remained there recovering together.
Even if he’d been free to sit up, Scott wouldn’t have had the desire to move—especially when he was exactly where he knew he belonged.
Turning his head slightly, Scott brushed his cheek against Joe’s hair.
It was the only kind of caress at his disposal.
In his mind’s eye he could easily picture the thick black hairs that covered Joe’s head.
They decorated most of his body too, far more sparsely in some areas than others, but still…
Scott took a deep breath. The only place where his own, far fairer, body hair had been really thick and noticeable was around his cock and balls, and now…
Joe made a pleased sound in the back of his throat as he straightened up. An unpleasant chill ran through Scott as cooler air replaced the heat from Joe’s body, but Scott knew better than to ask to be allowed up straight away.
He’d be freed as and when Joe wanted to release him—not before. And that was fine with Scott. Leaning back against the bench, trying not to wonder how insane he had to look—bald, spread-eagled, and cum-stained—Scott took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.
He listened for the sounds of Joe straightening up his clothing. Instead, he felt Joe’s hand came to rest on his stomach.
Scott lifted his head. “J-Joe?”
“Yeah?”
What are you doing? But by the time Scott had the words lined up in his head, there was no reason for him to ask. He’d already realised what Joe was doing. He was rubbing both loads of their cum into Scott’s skin.
Slowly, carefully, as if determined not to miss a single smudge of semen, Joe massaged it all in.
Across Scott’s stomach, and down over his cock and balls, it seemed to Scott as if Joe gave his complete attention to applying a nice even coating all across his body, ensuring it would soak in perfectly.
A whimper escaped from the back of Scott’s throat. He’d never really thought of cum as something a man might use to mark his territory, but he had no doubt that was what Joe was doing.
The scent of their combined pleasure hung in the air all around them, and Scott knew it would cling to his skin until he took his next shower.
Any man who got too close to him in the meantime would be bound to smell the scent of sex and satisfaction all over him; and then the guy would know that Scott had already been claimed by a man who knew how to make him cum like never before.
He’d know Scott had no need of another lover.
Eventually, Joe seemed to be done. Scott sensed him step back.
Then came the familiar rustle of clothes that Scott had been waiting for.
Scott had no idea how long he was left in his bondage before it finally pleased Joe to free him.
In truth, he was lost in far too much of a post-orgasm daze to really care.
Even when Joe guided his legs off whatever they’d been trapped by, Scott was content to let Joe move his limbs in whatever way he chose. Joe soon freed Scott’s arms too. Scott sat up and reached for the blindfold, his movements stiff after his arms had been held in the same position for so long.
“No. Get dressed first.” Joe pushed Scott’s clothes into his hands.
“But…?”
Joe laughed. “Did you really think I was joking about not letting you see yourself tonight?”
Scott looked down, as if it were possible for him to see the clothes in his arms.
“Get dressed,” Joe ordered again.
Scott clumsily began to obey.
“Tonight or f-f-forever?” he stuttered out, when he was half dressed.
Apparently those few words were enough to make sense, because Joe didn’t ask for an explanation.
“As hot as it would be not to let you see your cock forever, it wouldn’t be practical,” Joe said. “Not when I expect you to keep yourself shaved for me from now on. You can look first thing tomorrow morning.”
Scott nodded his understanding. It didn’t occur to him that he either could or should object. Anyway, he had a far more immediate concern and it made him wince as he tucked his cock away. “You do this on purpose, d-don’t you?” he asked, before he could stop himself.
“Do what?” The reply came from where Scott guessed the room’s door to be. He could easily picture Joe leaning casually against the door frame as he enjoyed watching him struggle.
“You always make me try to get hard again s-straight after I come,” Scott mumbled. “Hurts l-l-like hell.”
Joe laughed again, a rich cheerful sound that hinted that Joe might have enjoyed their time together that evening just as much as Scott had.
Scott found himself smiling too as he pulled his coat back on. He turned his blindfolded face toward Joe’s laugh, but he wasn’t sure Joe would actually tell him if he’d put anything on upside down or inside out. He had a feeling that was the kind of thing Joe would let him learn the hard way.
“You forgot one thing,” Joe suddenly said.
For reasons his conscious mind wasn’t even aware of, Scott held out his hand, palm up, in expectation.
“You’re pretty damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Joe asked.
Scott’s pulse rate doubled. The only reason he kept his hand out, was because horror had frozen him in position.
“Good,” Joe said. “About time you realised any man who likes leather would have to be a fool to walk away from a sub as good as you are.” He put what could only be an envelope in Scott’s hand.
Scott felt his jaw drop. Being able to frame a response was out of the question.
A touch against the back of his head and sudden white light filled Scott’s world. He closed his hand tightly around the envelope Joe had given him, determined not to drop it as he lifted both his hands to shield his eyes.
His vision slowly came back to him. Scott couldn’t bring himself to look around the room to see if any of his guesses about his surroundings had been correct. He blinked up at Joe, keeping all his attention on him. “Hi,” he whispered.
Joe’s amused little smile morphed into a full blown grin. “Hi, yourself. Come on.” He took Scott’s hand and led him out of the back room. He was still holding Scott’s hand when they stepped out of the shop.
“Where’s your car?”
“It k-kind of died. I got a t-t-taxi here, but it’s not that far, I can w-w-walk back and—”
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
It was a statement, not a question. There was no need for Scott to answer. Any protest he made wouldn’t be taken as a polite attempt not to make his friend go out of his way. It would be read as disobedience to his dom, and that was out of the question.
Scott was soon settled behind Joe on his bike. His lips were still tingling from Joe’s last kiss. He was tempted to write a note there and then, requesting that Joe would kiss him goodnight when they reached his doorstep, but no.
By the time they were halfway back to his place, Scott was determined to ask for something that would last for far longer than even the best kiss in the world—to ask that Joe mark him more thoroughly than ever before, and in a way that wouldn’t wash off the moment Scott stepped into the shower.