CHAPTER 22
Zeke
I was impressed.
The cowboy was halfway through his punishment, and all five times, he’d come on command like a good little fuck toy.
However, it was obvious he was tiring. He could only use one hand thanks to the vampire glove, and I was sure the muscles in his forearm and wrist were growing weaker. Not to mention, the overstimulation he was receiving from the television and the prostate massager.
But there was still time. I had no doubt he would fail.
After all, I hadn’t set this up for him to succeed.
That was part of the punishment. He would spend the entire weekend crawling around on hands and knees like a dog.
That was the sort of punishment he could expect from me.
This was simply the mind fuck that would allow us to get there.
“You clean up,” I ordered the pretty boy. “Then join me in the living room.” I smiled over at him. “But first I want you to strip.”
“Yes, Zeke.”
During dinner, I had ensured the pretty boy and I could both watch the show.
For one, I was not about to take my eyes off the cowboy.
Although there was nothing that put him at risk, his safety was paramount.
And while I doubted he could hurt himself doing what he was doing, I still insisted on keeping an eye on him.
And two, it was enjoyable. The way his hand moved over his dick when the chime sounded, the way he seemed to panic, knowing time would run out.
And the fact I wasn’t telling him whether or not he had succeeded.
Those things were coalescing into fear, causing the cowboy to overthink things, which would be ultimately what tripped him up.
The pretty boy started rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher while I took my water glass and joined the cowboy. I glanced down at the timer. He still had eight minutes before he was allowed to come again.
I punched the button on my phone app to kick the prostate massager into high gear.
A startled groan sounded from the cowboy, his hand squeezing his cock.
He wasn’t hard, but that was expected. It was inevitable that he would soften despite the erotic noises sounding from the television.
A man could only come so many times. Quite frankly, I was impressed by the cowboy’s stamina. Then again, he was still young.
I grabbed the feather tickler and perched my ass on the coffee table in front of the cowboy. I brushed it along his thighs, earning a soft hiss. I worked it over his chest, brushing his nipples before pressing it between his legs and tickling his balls. He groaned around the ball gag.
Turning off the app and removing the feather, I left him to hang precariously in the balance. His hand was stroking firmly, although he still had … four minutes left.
Yep. This was rather enjoyable.
I took a seat on the opposite sofa and alternated between watching him and the television.
The chime sounded once more, and the cowboy began pumping his dick in earnest. I watched the seconds tick on my watch.
They inched closer and closer to his time limit.
He began furiously pumping, but he was still going when the second hand passed the one-minute mark.
Triumph erupted inside me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. He had failed. His time was up.
I continued to watch, smiling to myself as he finally pushed himself over the edge, his cock jerking and twitching, but nothing shot out of his dick. He was dry at this point, and he still had three more times to go.
The pretty boy appeared, and I motioned for him to sit beside me.
“Spread your legs, pretty boy,” I instructed, ensuring my voice was loud enough for the cowboy to hear. I wanted him to be aware we were there, that we were watching.
I put my hand on the pretty boy’s dick and started stroking firmly.
“I expect to hear you, pretty boy. Make sure your boyfriend knows how much you enjoy my hand on your cock.”
The pretty boy groaned loudly, his hips jerking as I worked him easily. I wasn’t about to make him come. That would take place while he was bouncing up and down on my dick.
Minutes passed as the three of us sat there, the television providing an erotic backdrop.
That, combined with the sensual moans from the pretty boy, was enough to have the cowboy’s cock firming up nicely.
I flipped on the prostate massager again, smirking when he began moaning, his ass shifting around on the blanket.
He was covered in his own dried jizz, and at this point, he had nothing to lube his cock as he stroked. His arm remained limp at his side, but his head was cocked in our direction, as though whatever it was we were doing was going to assist him in accomplishing his task.
“Get on your knees, pretty boy. I want your mouth on my cock.”
When he stood, I quickly shed my jeans, tossing them onto the floor by the cowboy’s feet so he could feel the denim touching him. He would know I was naked, would likely wonder what I was doing to his loving boyfriend.
“Ahh, that’s it,” I urged, palming the pretty boy’s head when his lips wrapped firmly around my cock. “Suck me like a good little fuck toy. Then you can lube me up so you can ride my dick.”
The pretty boy moaned.
“You like the idea? Bouncing up and down on my cock while you watch the cowboy jack off?”
The pretty boy groaned, but he didn’t release me. I patted his head, showing my approval.
I relaxed into the cushion, allowing the minutes to tick by as we all waited for the chime that would signal the cowboy’s next release. He was almost finished.
The pretty boy was slurping all over my dick when the chime sounded.
I kept my hand firmly on his head as I watched the cowboy work to make his deadline.
He was panting and groaning, but it was no longer fueled by pleasure.
I had warned him. He didn’t want to ask for my punishment.
He would hate me by the time this weekend was over.
But it would be worth every humiliating second.
“Keep sucking,” I urged the pretty boy, figuring I could help the cowboy along a little.
“I fucking love the way your mouth feels on my cock. That strong throat taking every inch. Your boyfriend’s trying to come.
He’s working so hard, probably picturing you in his mind.
Your mouth stretched wide around my cock.
It’s not working, is it, cowboy? You can’t come anymore because it hurts. ”
The cowboy groaned, his cock jerking as his head fell back. He came once more, but there was only a small drop of cum, not even enough to lube his dick for the next round.
“Get the lube, pretty boy. I want you to coat my dick. No condom this time. You’re gonna ride my cock bare while your boyfriend plays with his own dick.”
My rock-hard cock fell from the pretty boy’s mouth as he turned to grab the lube from the coffee table.
I watched him as he slicked me up. His eyes were hot.
I had yet to take either of them without a condom despite the fact the three of us had shared our most recent test results. No one was at risk here.
“You know what?” I mused. “I want you to get up on the coffee table first. On your knees, chest down. I’m going to eat your ass, to work you open so you’re ready for my cock. Would you like that, pretty boy?”
“Fuck yes, Zeke,” he hissed, my words clearly taking him by surprise.
“Good.” I patted the table and he quickly got into position, his ass pointed toward me.
“You wish you could see this, don’t you, cowboy? Me tongue-fucking your boyfriend? Do you do that for him? Do you rim his asshole?”
The cowboy groaned, but I had no idea what he was saying. Nor did I care.
I dropped to my knees behind the pretty boy and gripped his hips firmly in my hands before burying my face in his ass. I worked him roughly with my tongue, ensuring my beard abraded his sensitive skin.
“Make sure he hears you, pretty boy,” I commanded.
The pretty boy began rambling. Begging and pleading for more, telling me how much he loved that I tongued his asshole, getting him ready for my dick.
I gave him my full attention as the minutes continued to count down.
We were closing in on the next chime, and I pushed it close before I perched my ass on the couch and pulled the pretty boy into my lap.
“Sit on my dick,” I growled, my tone reflecting the driving need in my balls.
The pretty boy was facing away from me as he inched down onto my cock. He groaned loudly, as did I. Taking him bare was incredible, feeling the tight heat as he sheathed my cock.
“Oh, fuck, Zeke,” the pretty boy moaned. “It feels so good.”
“Come on, pretty boy. Take all of me.”
The chime sounded and the cowboy moaned around the gag. I watched him as undiluted pleasure assaulted me when the pretty boy took me all the way to the hilt.
“Stay right there,” I ordered. “Watch your boyfriend as he tries to come again. He wishes he was sitting on my cock. He wishes I was fucking him. He needs it more than anything, but the only thing he’s got is his hand. And it’s failing him now.”
The cowboy didn’t stop groaning, but he tried extremely hard to make himself come. It wasn’t working, and he knew it.
“Lift up and drop down on me,” I instructed the pretty boy. “Fill your ass with my dick. Take your own pleasure from me.”
He did. Slow and steady, the pretty boy began fucking me, taking my dick to the root before lifting up, then dropping down again.
The cowboy yelled, his disappointment obvious. He couldn’t come, no matter how hard he wanted to. I didn’t bother to tell him his minute was up. He would figure that out eventually.