Part 16 With Love #4
Without anything that Scott was willing to consider sufficient warning, Joe picked him up, lifted him over the high back of the sofa, and dropped him. Well-padded cushions softened his landing, but they did nothing to absorb his shock.
Scott squirmed, desperately trying to pull himself up into a sitting position, but his journey over to that side of the sofa had stolen both his coordination and his balance.
He flailed like a recently landed fish, and only just sat up in time to see Joe throw himself over the sofa back to join him.
It was impossible for Scott to remain shocked for long, mostly because Joe pounced on him the second he’d recovered from his own less than graceful landing, and pinned him down.
Joe’s lips covered Scott’s mouth. His hands tugged at Scott’s clothes.
“You’re allowed to help get us both naked,” Joe mumbled into the kiss.
From any other man, it would have sounded sarcastic. From Joe, it sounded like a perfectly sensible decision.
A moment ago, Scott didn’t have permission to do anything, so it was fine that he’d lay there and merely accepted whatever Joe wanted to do with him. Now that he had permission, lying there idly was no longer an option. It would have been a crime to waste that kind of opportunity.
Scott scrabbled at Joe’s T-shirt, pushing it up, desperately trying to get at the skin beneath.
Every inch of Joe deserved to be worshiped; and now, Scott knew he was going to have time to do the task justice.
He wriggled beneath Joe’s body in a concerted effort to touch every bit of him while at the same time desperately trying to get his own trousers off.
Scott had just reached for the tab on his fly—and was sending up thanks that he was finally going to be able to get out of his far too tight trousers—when Joe caught hold of first Scott’s right wrist, then his left.
With both of his arms suddenly pinned to the sofa seat on either side of his shoulders, Scott was trapped, his fly as firmly fastened as ever.
Joe moved his legs apart to straddle Scott’s hips and lifted himself up, parting their bodies so he could stare down at him.
“Mine.”
Scott nodded as he fought to catch his breath. “Y-yes. Y-yours,” he agreed.
Joe grinned. At some point, his T-shirt had been tossed aside, so had Scott’s.
Scott glanced down between their bodies. Joe’s cock was no longer hidden away behind painfully tight layers of fabric. His erection stood proudly away from his body, curving up toward his stomach, hard and glorious. Scott’s fingers twitched, but there was no way he could get free.
His permission to touch Joe had been taken away as easily as it had been granted.
“P-please?” Scott asked.
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Please what?”
“Sir,” Scott quickly corrected. “Please, s-s-sir.”
Joe smiled, but he shook his head. He hadn’t been hinting about the honorific. “Tell me what you want.”
Scott swallowed. He licked his lips. “Your c-cock.” He was surprised just how easy it was to say; to admit that he wanted anything more than whatever scraps of affection Joe might offer him of his own volition. “I w-w-want your cock, sir.”
Joe stared down with something that looked very much like success shining in his eyes. “Where?”
Scott didn’t drop his gaze from Joe’s face for a moment. He looked him straight in the eye. “My m-m-mouth, sir.”
It had to be his mouth. Scott wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay sane for long enough to get out of those leather trousers. He needed Joe now.
* * * * *
“Stay exactly where you are,” Joe ordered.
Scott bobbed his head very slightly, as if he’d been about to nod; but remembered just in time that he wasn’t supposed to move—not for any reason.
Joe grinned. “You can move your lips and your tongue,” he allowed. “It wouldn’t be much fun for either of us if you couldn’t do that, would it?”
“I understand, s-sir.” Scott licked his lips.
Joe released Scott’s wrists and straightened up, settling a little more of his weight against Scott’s crotch.
There was something wonderfully erotic about binding Scott in place with nothing but an order. Leather could never have entwined itself around Scott’s limbs more securely than five simple words from his master.
Stay exactly where you are. There wouldn’t be any digging through drawers looking for the key to that particular lock afterwards.
“Good boy,” Joe murmured, as he ran his gaze over Scott’s half-exposed body. Without really giving it too much thought, Joe wrapped his fist around his own erection.
Scott’s cock was trapped inside those very pretty trousers, but Joe had easy access to his own shaft. He’d jacked off to a mental image of Scott so often, masturbating to the sight of the real thing was almost second nature.
Scott whimpered.
Joe didn’t need to stare at his own cock to know what it looked like. It was far more fun to watch Scott squirm mentally, knowing he wasn’t allowed to wriggle physically.
Scott was so obviously desperate to reach out and touch Joe. Leather cuffs would have been a blessing for him. If bonds had held him in place, it would have been easy.
Joe watched as a frustrated frown deepened across Scott’s forehead. He’d have bet everything he had in the world that something less challenging wouldn’t have proved to be anywhere near as much fun for Scott in the long run.
There was something in Scott that loved striving to please.
Succeeding in obeying his dom against all the odds, would just make his eventual orgasm all the better.
Joe smiled. Watching the show wasn’t going to do his own climax any harm either.
Their kinks fitted together just as perfectly as their bodies always had.
With his hand still working his shaft, Joe lifted his weight forward onto his knees. Scott instantly opened his mouth, as if he might somehow be able to reach the tip of Joe’s cock from there.
Joe’s grin never faltered. Carefully manoeuvring his way up the sofa, he brought his cock closer to Scott’s mouth, just an inch or two at a time.
Scott whimpered. He nipped at his bottom lip. A moment later, his tongue moistened the skin he’d just come so close to splitting. He moaned low down in the back of his throat and swallowed rapidly.
But, as he watched, Joe was well aware that there were a far greater number of things that Scott didn’t do. He didn’t move his wrists from where Joe had pinned them against the sofa. He didn’t try to reach out. He didn’t complain. He didn’t attempt to hurry the process along at all.
Scott took the tiny bit of freedom that Joe had given him—his lips and tongue—and he made the most of it, but he didn’t ask for anything more. He didn’t try to take anything for himself.
Inching forward, Joe finally had his knees spread to either side of Scott’s shoulders.
The arm of the sofa was behind Scott’s neck, lifting his head and tilting it forward.
His position offered his mouth up at a beautiful angle for Joe’s cock.
It was almost as if the sofa had been designed just for that.
Joe stroked himself again, still denying Scott a taste. Scott once more opened his mouth in readiness. Looking up, he met Joe’s eyes. No demand. No request. Just complete acceptance and, quite possibly, a whole lot of hope.
Joe guided his cock to rest against Scott’s bottom lip. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and Joe carefully painted both of Scott’s lips with it, marking him out as belonging to him in yet another way.
Scott groaned with an extra dose of frustration, but he kept his mouth open and remained motionless while Joe completed his task.
Joe waited for several extra seconds to pass before he nodded. Scott quickly licked his lips, lapping up every trace of pre-cum that lingered there, and swallowing it down with obvious enjoyment.
Scott opened his mouth again, in a silent plea for more. This time, Joe relented. He offered his cock into Scott’s mouth so he could taste him properly.
As pretty as it looked, their positions would never enable him to thrust more deeply. Joe didn’t try. He only rocked his hips a fraction, more than happy to simply enjoy sliding the head of his cock back and forth across Scott’s tongue.
Scott’s eyes dropped closed in pleasure; but Joe wasn’t going to let anything steal away the sight that lay before him, not even for a second. Joe kept his eyes open and took in every detail.
“Good boy.”
Scott blinked his eyes open when he heard the praise, just as Joe thought he would. Their eyes locked. Joe smiled down at him and thrust his hips just a little more quickly, moving the tip of his cock more rapidly against Scott’s tongue.
It would have been so easy to get off on the way Scott’s mouth felt, but Joe wanted more. He remained where he was as long as he could without risking an unintended orgasm, teasing himself as much as he did Scott; but eventually, he had to fall still.
“I want your arse,” he announced, gritting his teeth to hold himself back from coming.
Scott murmured what sounded very much like an acknowledgement that it was a bloody wonderful idea.
Joe tortured himself with just a few more shallow thrusts before he pulled away. “You’re allowed to do absolutely anything that will speed us up,” he said as he dragged himself up onto his feet.
Scott launched himself upright, already scrambling at his own fly.
Joe grabbed a condom and lube out of the back pocket of his jeans, then tossed them onto the sofa.
He turned his attention to helping Scott undo his jammed fly.
Apparently deciding that Joe would be a lot quicker dealing with the zip on his own, Scott snatched up the condom, opened it, and reached out to Joe in return.
Every movement Scott made was strong and confident. He had permission, and he evidently wasn’t going to question it. He wrapped his fingers around Joe’s shaft, steadying his cock as he rolled the condom down with his other hand.