Part Twelve First Class #3
Joe put one hand on Scott’s shoulder, although he wasn’t sure which of them he thought needed steadying.
His other hand went to Scott’s hair. Sliding his fingers through the thick blond strands, Joe took up a tight grip on them.
He made no attempt to influence anything Scott did, but as Scott tipped back his head and peeked up at him through his lashes, they both knew that Joe could assume control at any time, and that Scott would obey his every whim.
Scott dropped his gaze. He moaned as he dipped his head again before slowly pulling back.
His lips thinned into little more than a pale pink line as he sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing through Joe.
Each rolling wall of white water battered at his defences, tempting him to make everything very simple and just come in Scott’s mouth.
Sirens blared through Joe’s mind, warning him that he had to run for higher ground if he didn’t want to be swept away by the tide.
Joe ignored all that and stayed right where he was.
Scott was going to get the time he needed in order to find his proper headspace and reassure himself that everything was still the same between them as it had always been.
Every other consideration was secondary.
Joe would never deny that he thoroughly enjoyed every sensation that Scott offered him. But, the moment he sensed Scott was ready for other things, Joe tugged on Scott’s hair, pulled Scott’s mouth away from his cock, and dragged him up onto his feet.
One kiss was all Joe allowed by way of transition from one part of the night into another; and he barely gave Scott time to gasp against his mouth before he took another treat from his lips.
Scott made a soft, disappointed, sound in the back of his throat, but he voiced no actual complaint.
Joe quickly kicked off his jeans. He was building up momentum now. He didn’t hesitate before he snatched up the supplies on his bed-side cabinet. Tearing open a condom wrapper, he deftly sheathed Scott’s cock with the thin latex.
Their eyes met as he looked up from his task.
With his hair mussed, his eyes slightly unfocused by pleasure, and his cock ready to go, Scott looked as gorgeous as ever, but as wary as ever too.
“You’ve topped before?” Joe asked.
Scott nodded.
“Topped a dom before?” he specified.
Scott swallowed rapidly and shook his head.
“I know what I’m doing,” Joe promised.
Scott relaxed, but only a fraction. His shoulders remained tense. Behind his back, Joe was sure Scott’s hands were clenched into nervous fists. “You’ve d-done this before, sir?”
The sir was a nice touch, Joe thought. Being asked to top had only made Scott more determined to remind the world that he was a sub through and through; as if who topped could really make any difference to any of that.
Joe smiled down at Scott. Yep, in so many ways, Scott was still as innocent as hell.
* * * * *
“I’ve occasionally had a sub top me in the past,” Joe said, but his tone made it sound like he was thinking far more than the words relayed.
Scott studied his expression very carefully.
Joe smiled far more often now than he had when Scott had only known him from the clubs, but he still didn’t let his emotions show easily.
A man had to seek out little hints if he wanted to know how Joe might feel about the world around him, but Scott was tentatively beginning to consider himself a master of that art.
Joe’s lips twitched. His eyes sparkled a little more brightly than usual. For some reason, he seemed to find Scott’s question amusing.
“It’s not something I want all the time,” Joe went on. “But being topped now and again can be fun. Even for a dom.”
“I d-didn’t mean any off—”
A shake of Joe’s head cut Scott short. “None taken.” He wrapped his fingers around Scott’s cock.
That settled the matter. An offended man would never want to stroke so much pleasure into a guy’s erection. Scott moaned. Unable to fight against a rush of pure instinct, he pushed his shaft more firmly into Joe’s fist.
As suddenly as Joe’s hand had arrived in Scott’s world, it vanished. Scott hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes until he found himself opening them again. He blinked at Joe, then looked down and saw the lube covering the condom.
There never had been a hand job on offer.
Scott took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. No, there was no hand job; Joe was offering him his arse instead.
Scott hadn’t lied when he said he’d fantasised about topping Joe, but the idea had been so insubstantial in his mind, a pure fantasy.
He’d wondered about it the same way he daydreamed about what it felt like to fly or be able to breathe underwater.
He’d never actually considered that Joe would allow anyone, let alone permit him to—
Every thought vanished from within Scott’s head as he watched Joe calmly reach behind himself and withdraw a large butt plug from within his hole. It was impossible to tell how long he’d been wearing it, but it had obviously been there since before Scott arrived at his apartment.
It had been there while they kissed, and while he sucked on Joe’s cock. The whole time they’d been standing there, Joe’s arse had been filled by the shiny black plastic and—
“Get on the bed.”
Subjected to far too many surprise attacks, Scott’s mind simply gave up. His body took over complete control. That was a good thing.
It was far easier to let his brain concentrate on simply filing everything away in his memory, so that he’d be able to look back upon it all later, assess everything, and work out whatever the hell it all meant, when he was alone.
For now, bodily obedience was all he needed. Clumsy with his hands still tied behind his back, Scott scrambled onto the bed.
The mattress dipped as Joe joined him. Scott remained kneeling in the centre of the bed, waiting for another command.
Joe moved with complete confidence. Scott couldn’t help but admire that, as well as the large amount of naked skin Joe was favouring him with that night, of course.
Each of Joe’s muscles was beautifully defined—especially those under his tattoo.
They bunched and shifted beneath his skin as Joe moved across Scott’s line of sight and knelt facing the headboard.
The mirror. Suddenly, Scott understood both its purpose and its position. Their eyes met in the reflection, just as they had in the sauna, but this time their positions were reversed.
Without even saying a word, Joe seemed to call Scott closer. By the time Joe had settled his hands comfortably on the thick black metal rail that ran across the top of his headboard, Scott had shuffled forward far enough to kneel between Joe’s comfortably spread legs.
Unable to hold Joe’s gaze a moment longer, Scott looked down. His cock was achingly hard. It rose away from his body pointing straight toward the cleft between Joe’s buttocks. The condom was uncoloured, the flushed skin of his cock clearly visible through it.
He’d shaved before coming to meet Joe, and not just his face. As always, Scott’s crotch was primed to be as vulnerable and sensitive as possible. From his hairless groin, Scott’s attention moved to Joe’s lubed-up hole.
Joe hadn’t shaved. From the stubble on his jaw to the fine dark hairs that surrounded his hole, he was a perfect contrast to Scott.
No. Screw contrasts, Joe was just perfect.
Scott’s hips thrust forward without consulting his brain.
Luckily, their bodies were still separated by several inches of empty air.
There was no way he could get his cock inside Joe from where he knelt, no matter how desperate he was.
And that was good, because some things could never be attempted without a clear invitation, without an outright command, to ease their way.
Still, unable to keep his frustration to himself, Scott whimpered with need.
His cock begged to be sheathed inside Joe, and part of Scott knew that the only way he could make that happen was to share his feelings with Joe.
Scott tensed all his muscles. His hands formed into tight fists as he pulled at his cuffs.
Joe reached back with one hand and wrapped his fingers around Scott’s cock. He didn’t stroke, he didn’t tease, but it was still all Scott could do to stop himself from coming from Joe’s firm, confident touch.
Scott shuffled forward, as Joe guided him closer to his arse.
The tip of Scott’s cock brushed against Joe’s hole.
He groaned, desperate to thrust forward and bury himself inside Joe’s body, but his submission won out and overruled every kind of physical need.
Scott didn’t make any kind of movement that wasn’t suggested by Joe’s touch.
“Look in the mirror.”
Their gazes locked the moment Scott looked up, and Scott found himself unable to turn away.
Joe tugged him forward another fraction of an inch. Scott longed to look down, but he didn’t dare do that without Joe’s permission. Hell, he barely dared to breathe without a clear order.
Little by little, Joe drew Scott closer until the tip of Scott’s cock pushed against the firm ring of muscle around his hole. Then, without Scott making any movement of his own volition, he suddenly found the first inch of his cock buried inside Joe’s hole—inside his master’s arse.
Scott arched his back. Every muscle in his body trembled.
Joe was tight and hot and perfect, and maybe even more than that—the dominance shining in Joe’s eyes didn’t waver for a second.
Scott gasped, desperately trying to remain still; although he had no idea if that was in consideration of Joe, who might well appreciate a moment to adjust and relax around him, or in simple obedience of his master.
Yet, at the same time, he knew that if Joe ordered him to move, good manners would go out the window. Staring into Joe’s eyes, Scott could only submit to Joe’s decisions and trust that he’d make the right ones for them both.