Chapter 41
MATTHEW
Iwait for Fischer this morning on a bench across the street from the building, and we enter Gramercy Place together. I only have him for a couple of hours. He has to work and then pick up Vaughn from Maggie’s later, but I need him, and he was easy to convince.
The Penthouse in the early morning feels quite different than the way it does at night.
There’s no show in the amphitheater, no gang bang line, and Gibson Hayes is nowhere to be found.
In his usual place is a masked Domme with one leg draped on the arm of the chair where she sits, observing the comings and goings in and out of the private rooms. Costumed escorts and male members mostly.
The music is lower, but the lighting is exactly as I remember it from the last time. It was my idea to come here instead of Fischer’s place. To get him in the mood for something different. Not to mention the side benefit of reclaiming this space from all the women he’s been with here.
“How long has this club been around?” I ask as we pass the occupied rooms to find one of our own. I wouldn’t hate playing with him in the amphitheater, but for what I want to do with him, I need a bed. Maybe one day.
“About three years?” Fischer sounds like he’s guessing. “I’m not sure. Gibson mentioned it a few years back—I assumed it was a new thing, but maybe he had it open longer.”
“What’s his story?” I ask.
“In terms of this? No idea. He’s always been into kink.”
We approach an open door to an empty room, and Fischer stops walking. I shake my head and point at the glass-walled room next door.
“No,” he says.
“Please? There’s hardly anyone here.”
He looks around and sees what I see. While it’s not packed like it was the Friday night we came before, there are people—men in scrubs.
A few employees. A dozen other nondescript people, mostly couples, who I figure are probably like us—experimenting with something forbidden or taboo. Membership does have its privileges.
When he hesitates, I remind him, “We’ve messed around in public with way more eyes on us. Do this for me.”
“Is this a test?” he asks.
I don’t want to say yes. Mainly because I hate to think I have to make him prove he’s devoted to me, but he was gone a long time. A long fucking time, and all I have to tie him to me is his word.
He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but he never said he wouldn’t leave. He made himself believe I didn’t need or want him once before. I can’t have him thinking that again. I hold out my hand, “Do this with me.”
He casts another glance around the room, but I keep my eyes on him.
He reaches for me, and I pull him into the room, closing the glass door behind us.
Inside, the glass is more reflective than outside, but I can still see through it to the club.
Just not as clearly as the view from the other side of the wall.
“You want to tell me what we’re doing here?” he asks.
I crowd him, using both hands to tuck his hair away from his face.“There’s something I want to show you,” I say. I had an image while I was at my place yesterday without him. Call it a vision—inspiration.
“I’m not sure I like that look in your eyes.”
“All I ask is for you to keep an open mind.”
“I’m trying,” he says with a nervous smile.
I take a long, slim case out of the side pocket of my backpack.
“What is that?” he asks.
“Get undressed, and I’ll show you.”
He glances at the glass wall again. “You want me naked?”
“I do, and I’ll join you so you don’t feel lonely.”
“Fuck. This better be good.”
I smirk.
I put the case on the bed and undress while I watch him do the same. He looks like he’s getting ready for a physical exam, proceeding systematically from top to bottom and folding his clothes neatly as he goes, putting them on an upholstered bench that probably does more than meets the eye.
Naked before he is, I grab my own lube from my backpack rather than the community lube on the bedside table. Walking to the bed, I open the case and examine my small collection. I select the slimmest rod. It’s delicately beaded and nine inches long.
“What the fuck is that?”
I turn to look at him. He’s limping my way with his boxer briefs still on. I put a hand on his waist. “I’ve noticed you get really squirmy when I mess with your slit.”
“Oh…Jesus.”
“Now do you know what this is?”
He blinks those mirror eyes, but they’re wide with trepidation.
“You trust me?” I ask.
He nods.
I climb onto the bed and make myself comfortable against the leather cushioned headboard, noting the cuff restraints on each corner. Another vision comes, but I file it away for later.
“Come here.” I pat the space I’ve left available between my bent, spread legs.
With one final glance over his shoulder at the glass no one’s looking into, he crawls to me, moving like a goddamn panther.
I admit, I’m used to seeing a hitch in his gait, so this smooth approach does something salacious to my insides.
And my cock, which he notices and dips his head to kiss.
Before he can start sucking me, though, I pull it away with a laugh.
“Nice try.” Patting my chest, I tell him to lean back and get comfortable.
He sighs, turns around, and does as he’s told, winding up like that first night we spent together when he came home. Funny, sometimes, when I think about how innocent I was pretending to be.
“Hold the end, it’s been sterilized.” I hand the sounding rod to him, and he takes it with a steady hand.
“You think I’m gonna like this?” he asks.
I run my hand over his bare leg, stopping at his inner thigh. “I think you’re gonna love it.”
“I had a catheter for a month after my testicle surgery.”
“I’m aware.”
“I didn’t mind it. I thought it made life a lot easier, actually, for a while.”
“It did cut the workload some.”
“You do this a lot?” he asks.
“Only to myself,” I say.
He turns his head to look at me. “Why?”
“I bore easy.”
His answering laugh is nervous. I run a soothing circle over his chest and slot my head next to his.
With my other hand I adjust my cock between us as it fills, letting it rest on my abs with his back smashed against it.
Kissing his cheek, I say, “You might only like an inch of it…but if you get good at it, you can get it all the way to your prostate.”
His dick twitches to life. “Fuck…”
“Take out your cock, Fischer.”
He finally removes his shorts, shoving them down his legs with the hand not holding the sound.
Motion at the glass draws my attention, and I notice two shadowy figures outside who’ve stopped to watch. It makes me plant a possessive kiss on Fischer’s shoulder, right where it meets his neck. I murmur, “Now put that straight into the bottle of lube.”
The simple act of watching Fischer dip the rod into the lube then move it up and down to coat it gets me rock hard. I suck on his earlobe, savoring every second of this new first between us. “Will you put it in?” he whispers.
I take the lubed rod from him, hoping he’d ask. “Hold your cock for me.”
“I’m barely hard.”
“It’s better that way. Still trust me?”
“Yes.”
Either he hasn’t noticed we’re being watched, or he doesn’t care. That, or I’ve given him too many other things to worry about.
Keeping my mouth close to his skin, I swirl the end of the rod over his tip, making sure his tiniest hole has lube on it, too. “Relax,” I say as he tenses against me.
“Will it hurt?”
“In a good way. You’re gonna love this, princess. I promise.”
He sags against me, his body surrendering to mine. I ease the tip into his slit, and he sucks in a breath. “Fuck…”
“Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“I will,” he says, and I believe him. “Can I touch myself?”
“Of course.”
He gives his dick a stroke and lets out a shaky sigh. The rod has a mind of its own when all the angles are right. I sink it in an inch, but have to resist its will to drop further into him. Shit, he was made for this.
His hips squirm. “Oh, God, Matty… Oh fuck, what happens if I get too hard?”
“Shh…I’m not gonna hurt you.”
And he is getting hard. The swelling of his cock sucks in another inch. He throws his head back and lets out a series of gasping breaths. His back is slick with sweat. “Move it,” he says.
“You done?”
“No…move it…move it inside me.”
“You’re so goddamn hot, princess,” I whisper against his neck while I do as he asks, gently pulling it back and forth, keeping it inside him, but with every stroke down, when the rod finds no resistance, it sinks deeper.
“Watch with me,” I tell him. “It’s so fucking pretty.”
He lifts his head and groans at the sight of the slick beads popping in and out of his slit. I’m just as mesmerized. I can feel how hot his body is and the tension in his thighs as they press out against mine.
“Is it safe to jerk off? I feel like I need to touch it.”
“Go ahead. Be gentle, though, because I think you can take a lot more.”
He nods. “I want more.”
“God, you’re so fucking perfect. Anyone ever tell you that before?”
“Just you,” he whispers as his hand moves up his length.
“Then let me show you. Watch…”
I let go of the sound, and it slides all the way in, leaving only the ring balancing on his crown.
His shuddering gasp is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I kiss his neck, proud of him and horny for him and basking in his intense, agonized pleasure. “So fucking deep,” he moans.
“There are a million things I could teach you. Things I wanna do to you.”
“Tell me, but only if it’s filthy.”
“You wanna hear about how I wanna drug you and fuck you?”
“God…oh God.” he groans, his entire body spasming.
I slide my finger through the ring and play with the rod’s depth, knowing he can feel the beads moving beneath his fingers.
It’s a bizarre feeling, intrusive and wrong, but intrusive and wrong is sometimes the best thing ever, and I have a feeling Fischer has a lot of kinks he has yet to discover.
I want to be the one who unlocks them all.