Page 5 of Never Forget

“Yes. Uh– Green, I mean.” Even being pushed to say the words is sending a different kind of energy surging through my veins.

Scott ties my hands behind my back, then walks around me slowly. With my senses dulled the way they are, with my hands tied, blindfolded, and the hypnotic beat of the music, my awareness of him triples. I can feel his presence like a heaviness in the air, feel his eyes roaming every inch of me.

“I’m going to unbutton your shirt so I can see you.” He phrases it as a statement, but I can hear the request for permission in the silence after he says it.

“Green.”

He deftly opens my button-down shirt, the barely there touch of his fingertips scorching a path down my torso. Cool air touches my skin, and I realize he’s situated us beneath an air vent. Something about the moment makes me feel like that isn’t coincidental, and I’m grateful for it because I’m burning up.

“Relax, pet, I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen that you don’t want, and I won’t let anyone see or touch you. Just me.” I zone in on his presence and his words, the tension releasing slowly from my neck and shoulders. It takes a moment to realize I’m slouching, and I straighten my posture again, but Scott’s voice is there again, low and steady. “Shhh. You’re doing so good. Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now let it go, and let go of the rest of this tension. It’s only you and me here, and I’m going to take care of you.”

I don’t know this person. And it’s definitely not only him and me here– we’re in public for fuck’s sake, surrounded by dozens of other people. Except, for some reason, I believe him.

“You’re safe,” he whispers in my ear as his fingertips gently run up and down my sides, across my stomach, and circle my belly button. “You don’t have to be anyone right now. You don’t have to do or say anything. Just breathe and let me take care of you.”

My body breaks out in a rash of goosebumps, and his fingers feel like static over my sensitive flesh. Little sparks light up every inch of exposed skin.

Before I know it, I’m practically limp against this stranger without even realizing it. There’s a vague realization that it should be worrisome, but I can’t remember why. All I know is here and now, the comfort of his strong arms and the warmth of his body heat, and the way his roaming fingers light me up all over.

“You’re hard,” Scott says against my ear, stating the obvious. I don’t respond. I don’t think he needs me to. “You like giving me control, don’t you?”

I think I nod this time, but I’m not sure. I’m too busy shivering at the way he’s running his fingers around each of my peaked nipples. I’ve never been into nipple play before, never noticed them being especially sensitive, but right now I think I could come if he kept going, or if he–

“Ah!” I gasp when he pinches my left nipple, and my body buckles under the jolt of pleasure that shoots through me. Scott holds me steady, pressed snuggly against his chest, while he continues to drive me wild by barely touching me.

What is this?

I’m swimming in my awareness of only two things– this man, and my body that is no longer in my command. Nothing else exists.

A tear falls down my cheek. It might not even be the first, I’m not sure. I’m only really aware of it because Scott turns my head and gently kisses it off my face. He tilts my chin up and doesn’t quite kiss me, but softly rubs his lips against mine, almost like he’s sharing the salty taste of my shame with me.

Why am I crying?

Why don’t I want him to stop?

Why do I want him to keep touching me? To use me for his pleasure. To make me into nothing more than a vessel…

The way my body shifts presses Scott’s crotch right up against my bound hands. I cup him through his jeans and rub his stiff cock. He feels big. Certainly thicker than me, then again that would be proportionate to the rest of him.

Scott growls and captures my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to hurt. An embarrassing whine, a sound like nothing I’ve ever made before, falls out of me.

“You need to behave if you want me to keep making you feel good,” he admonishes, and I push to my tiptoes to kiss him, but he moves at the last second.

A little roughly, Scott takes hold of my bound wrists and pushes them up to the small of my back. He holds me with one hand while the other roams, his touch firmer this time, squeezing and kneading my flesh.

“You like this,” he says, groping my pecs, squeezing them and pushing them up. I grunt my agreement and try to push my ass back against him, but he keeps holding me in place. His hand roams lower, closer to where I really want it to be.

Every inch closer to my cock, pressing painfully behind my zipper, I feel closer to coming in my pants.

“How fast would you shoot if I took your cock out and jerked you right here and now?”

“Too fast,” I cough out weakly, then groan when Scott does nothing to relieve the pressure building up in my mind and body. “P-please.”

Scott stills for a moment, and so do I. I don’t know where that came from, and I certainly didn’t give myself permission to say it. Especially in such a weak, breathy little whimper.

“Fuck,” Scott murmurs into the back of my hair. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please,” I repeat. And then for good measure, “Green.”