9
“You need to breathe,” he said, pressing a finger against my hole. “And try to relax. I promise not to hurt you.”
I forced myself to breathe, drawing in slow, measured breaths through my nose. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. The silk ropes dug slightly into my skin as I tensed, then deliberately tried to relax my muscles.
“That’s right,” Dimitrios said softly. “Just breathe.”
I felt his finger press inside me, and despite my nerves, the sensation wasn’t painful.
It was strange, foreign, but not unpleasant.
He worked it slowly, letting my body adjust to the intrusion.
After a moment, it began to feel good, then really good.
And I found myself pushing back slightly against his hand.
“See?” he murmured. “Your body knows what it wants. It comes naturally to you.”
He added a second finger, working them in an out gently to stretch me further.
I bit down on my lower lip, trying to process the cascade of sensations.
Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be firing at once.
My cock was so hard it ached, and I could feel myself leaking steadily onto the bed beneath me.
“Please,” I heard myself beg again. “Please, I need?—”
“I know what you need,” he said, cutting me off.
He pushed harder, his finger crooking inside me. And suddnely, I was seeing stars. My entire body tensed up as he hit some sweet spot inside me that I didn’t know existed. I barely had time to gasp before I was cumming, painting the bed with my release.
“Good boy,” he whispered, working that spot over and over until I was putty in his hands. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t answer. My face was buried in the sheets, my teeth clamped around the pillowcase. I didn’t know what was going on or my own fucking name. All I knew was that I’d just had the best orgasm of my entire life, and it was still rocking me from head to toe in a way I didn’t understand.
“That was your prostate,” Dimitrios said, withdrawing his fingers. “And judging by your reaction, I don’t think you’ve ever played with it before.”
“I’ve never...” I started, but the words died in my throat. What was I supposed to say? That I’d spent the last thirty-nine years of my life completely unaware of an entire dimension of pleasure that existed inside my own body?
“No,” Dimitrios said, a note of satisfaction coloring his voice. “I didn’t think so. Most men don’t explore that part of themselves. Too much toxic masculinity, too much fear of what it might mean about their sexuality.”
He moved behind me again, and I felt the weight of his body shift as he repositioned himself.
My breathing had started to normalize, but my heart was still racing.
I was still bound, still exposed, still completely at his mercy.
And despite the intensity of what had just happened, despite the fact that I should probably be panicking, all I could think about was what came next.
Dimitrios reached up and unhooked my hands from the headboard, supporting my body as he pulled me up on my knees and turned me around once more. I found him there, kneeling in front of me, his purple cock hard and leaking.
“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Would you like to?” he asked.
I looked at his cock, purple and glistening with pre-cum in the candlelight.
My mouth went dry. My instincts told me this had gone too far, that I would never recover from this.
But that voice was far quieter than the one that had been speaking since the moment I stepped into the bathhouse. I wanted this now. I wanted all of it.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good,” Dimitrios said, his hand coming up to cup my jaw. His touch was gentle, almost tender, which somehow made the moment feel more intimate than anything that had come before. “Let me show you how.”
He guided me forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to the idea of what was about to happen. The head of his cock brushed against my lips, and I could smell him. His scent was wild and musky and filled me with a primal hunger I didn’t know I possessed.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed softly. “Don’t think about it. Just feel it.”
I parted my lips and he pushed inside, just the tip at first. It was warm and firm and tasted like salt and skin. Part of me wanted to pull back, to process what was happening, but he kept a gentle pressure on the back of my head.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “You’re doing great. Just relax your throat and let me guide you.”
I tried to follow his instructions, tried to surrender to the act the way I’d surrendered to the rope. His cock slid deeper, and I felt a flash of panic as my gag reflex kicked in. I pulled back, coughing.