Page 74 of Love Language

God, they were really doing this. He’d given up expecting it. Maybe even given up wanting it, when Marco had so many other ways to make him lose his mind. Predicament bondage, especially, turned him inside out with the way that Marco forced him to do these things to himself.

But here and now, Greg felt his pulse race, his body reacting in fear to the threat of what Marco could do to him.

Except this wasn’t Marco. This was someone else. His nephew.

I was just watching TV, M. He signed an M, but down his opposite arm. A new name sign, invented on the spot, without a spoken equivalent. His way of letting Marco know that he understood the scene they had started and wanted to play. I wasn’t looking at you.

I don’t believe you.

Greg squirmed, unable to meet M’s eyes. He felt himself slipping into the role. Uncle G had been perving on his nephew. It was filthy and wrong.

And he was as hard as a rock.

He subtly pressed his legs together, trying to hide the evidence.

If you weren’t watching me, how do you explain this?

M forcefully yanked the front of Uncle G’s sweatpants down. His slim hands gripped G’s cock and twisted it upward violently. He waved it around with no regard for how he might be hurting his uncle.

G sucked in a gasp. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.

That’s not good enough, M signed with one hand, the other hand still brutally strangling his dick. What do you think Aunt C would say?

No, don’t tell C. He was sinking into the illicit fear of the role, every nerve alight. He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. Please. I won’t do it again.

M dragged his hand up Uncle G’s cock, his touch almost too light to feel. His face was menacingly speculative. He ran one finger around the tip in a slow circle.

I think you need to make it up to me.

How? What should I do? G was leaking, his arousal visible to both of them.

I think you need to pay me back. Suck me.

No! His disagreement was strong, instinctive. His whole body shook, torn between fear and desire. That would be wrong. We’re family.

M leaned into his face. So, you want me to tell Dance that you’ve been watching me? Do you think she’d feel safe around you again?

That just made it all the more real. Uncle G must have a daughter, or maybe a niece, who’d been given the name sign Dance. A whole personality that he was now beholden to.

Don’t tell Dance. She’s innocent, he signed frantically.

But M was anything but. I think you know what to do, then.

G’s hands lurched forward, but then stopped. He was always eager to touch his boyfriend Marco, and he was drowning in desire from their roleplay. But this persona, the story that they were wrapped up in, made him hesitate.

He dropped his hands, even as the burned to touch everything that he thought he had been denied. I can’t. It’s wrong.

I think you can. M grabbed his hand and placed it on those tiny, white shorts. His hand was filled with cock, soft on the surface with that hard pressure underneath. He closed his eyes for a minute, feeling what he had been secretly, filthily dreaming about for so long.

M let go of his hand and yanked his chin upward, signing with the other hand. If it’s so wrong, why are you so hard?

G tried to drop his head with embarrassment, but M wouldn’t let him go.

Thinking it and doing it are different, he finally signed. I can’t touch you. You’re my nephew.

Fuck, it was hot saying that.

G placed both of his hands over M’s, using G’s hand to massage his cock through the thin shorts. M sat frozen, allowing himself to be used.