Part Eight Be There #3
Scott kept staring straight at the misted up windshield until he seemed unable to remain still under Joe’s gaze. He turned and met Joe’s eyes through the open driver’s side door.
“Get out and come around here.”
Scott obediently exited the car and joined Joe. Joe locked it and turned to Scott. Neither of them had kept their jackets on while they ate and they were now both in their shirt sleeves. Joe quickly undid Scott’s tie and took it from around his neck.
Scott smiled and let out a quiet little sigh. Apparently, he felt a lot better about the world now that he knew he was about to be tied up and that he would have no control over whatever happened next.
Joe grinned. He’d known there was something he loved about Scott.
* * * * *
“Are you ready to play?”
Scott nodded so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash in his enthusiasm. “Yes.” He paused for a second, gathering his courage. “S-sir.”
The honorific felt good on Scott’s lips, but the way Joe smiled when he heard him say it was nothing short of amazing. Scott grinned, not caring how goofy his expression might be.
“Come on.” Joe caught hold of Scott’s wrist and led him into a wooded area to the left of the car park. Within moments, they’d both clambered over the fence—Joe with easy grace and Scott with, if not elegance, then at least with real determination to follow Joe.
Soon, they were completely surrounded by trees. It was hard to believe that they weren’t in the middle of nowhere, out of sight and sound of all civilisation.
Twigs snapped beneath their feet as Joe led Scott deeper into the woods. Finally, Joe stopped. There was just enough moonlight for Scott to see the way Joe’s eyes glistened with desire.
Joe had brought Scott’s tie with him. It only took him moments to have one end of it wrapped securely around Scott’s right wrist. Scott watched with a detached kind of interest, happy to hold his hand still while Joe worked; but not the least interested in learning how to tie complicated knots himself.
Joe slid a finger between Scott’s skin and the fabric, apparently checking the fit.
Then, he seemed to lose all interest in both Scott and his tie.
He turned away. Joe had almost revolved a full three hundred and sixty degrees when he set off toward a large tree growing a few metres further into the forest. Most of the trees had plants and bushes clustered around their bases, but the trunk of the one that had caught Joe’s attention stood straight and proud, isolated from all the other greenery.
Using Scott’s tie like the kind of lead another sort of man might attach to a dog’s collar, Joe led Scott to the chosen tree and positioned him facing the trunk. “Stay.”
Another canine command, but at least Joe didn’t suggest Scott cock his leg against the trunk.
Joe walked around the tree, taking his end of Scott’s tie with him. It wasn’t possible for Scott to stay exactly where Joe had left him. He had to step closer to the tree trunk—it was that or detach his arm from his shoulder.
“Give me your free hand.”
Scott reached around the tree toward Joe’s voice.
Joe started to knot the other end of Scott’s tie around the skin just below Scott’s watch.
The tie was only just long enough. Even when Scott pressed his torso hard against the rough bark in an effort to make it easier for Joe to restrain him, it seemed like the tie was barely able to bridge the gap between his wrists.
Scott’s pulse raced as Joe finished restraining his wrists.
Each time he took a breath, his ribs pushed against the tree’s trunk.
He barely had room to get air into his lungs.
He tried to turn his head, but that was impossible too.
The only bit of the forest he could see was that segment directly in front of him.
A rustle of leaves from somewhere behind him made Scott tense.
“Sweetheart, if anyone else is out here at this time of night, it’s because they’re looking for a quiet little spot to do exactly the same thing,” Joe whispered into Scott’s ear, as he stepped behind him. “There’s no reason to be afraid—well, not of anyone but me, anyway.”
Scott gasped as Joe pressed up against his back. Scott had heard of people hugging trees, but he was sure they weren’t supposed to have erections that threatened to drill a hole in the trunk while they did it.
He squirmed, frantically trying to push himself back against Joe’s body, but it felt like he had even less freedom than he’d had on any of his other dates with Joe.
The fact that there was so much open space around them only made the bondage feel tighter and more restrictive. It made Scott’s cock harder too. He whimpered against the tree. Everything in the forest was free—every bird, every bug, everything—except him.
Scott tensed as he felt Joe worming his hand in between his crotch and the tree. Scott pushed his arse out, instinctively trying to create enough space for Joe to do whatever he wanted to him.
“Good boy,” Joe whispered. He cupped Scott’s cock and balls through his trousers as he spoke, massaging his aching hard-on, and making him moan.
A moment later, all the sounds of the woodland were drowned out by a zip being tugged down.
Everything that lived among the trees seemed to hold its breath to listen.
Moments passed, and all the small furry animals gradually resumed the day to day business of their lives.
Only Scott remained trapped in place, helpless to do anything as his trousers and boxers were tugged down until they bunched up around his ankles.
“J-Joe?” Scott managed to stutter out.
“Yeah?” Joe ran his hand over Scott’s exposed arse and massaged his buttocks. “You wanted to ask me something?”
Scott nodded as best he could in his current position.
“Ask then,” Joe ordered. He settled both of his hands on Scott’s buttocks and slid his thumbs down the cleft between Scott’s cheeks, pulling them apart.
“C-can’t remember,” Scott mumbled.
“Well, you just let me know if you do remember, okay?” Joe said. He spoke very kindly, but his voice sounded like it had come from far lower than it should have.
Joe palmed Scott’s buttocks again, making him arch his back and push his arse out in invitation. Joe pulled Scott’s checks apart, completely exposing his hole.
The only warning Scott received was a breath of air brushing against his arse. It wasn’t enough of a warning. Scott let out a startled yelp as Joe circled his hole with his tongue.
Scott jerked away in surprise, then swayed back. His body seemed unable to decide if it wanted to be shocked or merely completely thrilled at receiving such an unexpected treat from his lover.
“Do you like that, Scottie?”
Scott nodded rapidly, not caring how the bark scratched his face. He stopped giving a damn about anything when Joe brought his mouth back to his arse.
He ran his tongue around Scott’s hole again and again, sending tidal waves of pleasure rushing through his body. Scott’s knees trembled, but there was no way he could fall while he was tied around the tree—he was as safe as he was helpless.
Scott tried to move his feet further apart to give Joe more room to work, but his bunched up trousers made that impossible.
Scott gasped as another upsurge of bliss rushed through his body.
Even though he knew Joe’s views on him trying to keep himself silent during sex, Scott be bit down on his bottom lip, closed his eyes very tightly and desperately tried to keep his moans and whimpers to a minimum.
Suddenly, both Joe’s hands and his lips disappeared from Scott’s world.
Scott blinked open his eyes. He peered over his shoulder as best he could, but there was no need to struggle to turn around. Joe stepped into his field of vision and held up something just in front of Scott’s face. It was impossible to tell what it was in the gloom.
“Open your mouth.”
Scott obeyed.
Fabric brushed against his lips. “Now, stop worrying about being heard,” Joe ordered. “I don’t want to have to remind you about trying to keep yourself silent again.”
Scott cautiously investigated the make-shift gag with the tip of his tongue.
It didn’t take him too long to work out that it was Joe’s tie.
Scott closed his eyes again. He was almost willing to swear that he could taste Joe’s own unique flavour on the fabric.
Joe filled all of his senses, overpowering the rest of Scott’s world, as Joe dropped back down to his knees behind him.
Joe set to work on Scott’s arse again. Scott lost his grip on reality as Joe pressed his tongue flat against his hole, bringing a million different nerve endings to life.
All the pleasure rushing through Scott’s body made him feel like he was floating in the air above them; held aloft by wings of ecstasy, and staring down at the scene playing out below him.
Scott knew that Joe’s hands were more tanned than his own arse. It was so easy for him to picture the long, slim digits, holding his buttocks apart, and to imagine Joe dipping his head so his tongue could drive Scott to the edge of madness and beyond.
Scott squirmed, pushing his crotch painfully against the rough tree trunk. Joe didn’t seem to care about that. He didn’t even seem to notice Scott’s desperate wriggling.
Joe stopped when, and only when, he wanted to stop. Scott had as little choice over when the rimming ended as he had about when it had begun.
Joe’s fingers pushed against his hole, slicked only with Joe’s saliva. With no artificial lube to ease its way, Joe’s touch was rough, and even more perfect because of that. Scott pushed back eagerly against the digits, begging into his gag as he writhed against the tree trunk.
“Careful, sweetheart. There are some places even a masochist doesn’t want to get splinters.”