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Gray
When we get to our hotel room, Jonah plasters himself to the giant window to admire every inch of the same view we just spent an hour looking at downstairs. “There are more lights in this one skyline than every fucking house in Iowa put together,” he breathes.
When I sit down on the thick, silky black duvet, he takes a deep breath, like he’s bracing himself. “I have something I want to show you. It’s really, really stupid, but I can’t take it back, like literally the store won’t take it back, so you’d better teach me what to do with it because I've never wasted money in my life and I'm sure as hell not going to start now.” Crossing the room, he digs through our overnight bag and pulls something out, curled in his palm so I can’t see.
“What have you done now?”
He sits on the edge of the bed next to me, the dip of the mattress sliding his body into mine. I brush my hand up under his suit jacket, along the thin weave of his dress shirt, and he shivers.
“Show me.”
Cringing a little, he offers it to me, flat on his palm. It’s a clear, glass bulb about two inches across, a heavy teardrop shape with a long neck swirled through with ribbons of rainbow glass. I can feel my eyebrows climbing to my hairline.
“Where did you–Victor. Of course.” I take the solid, smooth plug, turning it over in my hands.
He straightens up indignantly. “He just dragged me to the right section of the right store. I picked it out myself.” Watching the weight of it drop from one of my palms to the other, he swallows. “Did I get the wrong thing?”
“It’sbig. Bigger than I am.”
As that sinks in, I’m treated to that charming trick he showed me on the plane, going pale and flushing at the same time. “Is that why Victor kept laughing? I just picked the one I thought was prettiest.” He rubs a hand through his hair. “I messed up, didn’t I?”
His tension melts when I grab the back of his neck and shut him up with my mouth. “You’re going to have to take that, sweetheart,” I whisper as I pull back. “Every inch of it. It’s going to press right against your prostate and you’re going to go insane begging me to take it out and fuck you instead.”
Eyes wide, lips wet with my spit, he watches me get up and take the plug into the bathroom, turning the tap all the way to cold and leaving it running over the glass. I cross my arms and study him thoughtfully. “I was picturing something sweet tonight, but now you’ve gone and brought a massive fucking butt plug. I don’t know.”
Then I have an idea, something I’ve been thinking about ever since I first set eyes on that cock. But I let him wait. He sits stiffly on the corner of the bed, regret dawning in his face as he listens to the flow of icy water.
When he starts to undress, I click my tongue at him and shake my head. “Don’t take anything off. Just pull your pants down.” Shame and lust ignite together in his eyes as he unfastens his belt and eases his slacks around his thighs.
“Go get your plug.”
He comes back with the dripping, frigid globe of glass and a bottle of lube from the bag, his cock rock-hard in his boxers. My own erection is tenting my slacks, but I don’t touch it yet. He shifts uneasily, staring at the plug, and I can see his ass cheeks clenching from here.
I push him gently down onto the bed, sliding his pants around his ankles and spreading his knees, running my fingers into his crack. He’s panting, more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. “Shh,” I murmur. “Remember how much you like this?” The second I find his hole, he goes rigid and whines, already twisting his hips to pull me deeper. My God, I could do this to him all day.
“I’ll get you ready,” I tell him, “and then I think you should put that plug in all by yourself.”
He just makes a desperate sound and rubs up against my fingers, his eyes closed. I slide my free hand down my slacks and tease my cock as I pump two fingers into him, listening to him let out a nonstop string of curses, his fist clenched against his forehead as his body jerks.
Then I press the lubed-up plug into his hand. “I’m going to take care of you, jerk you off, and you’re going to stuff yourself with that.”
He nods, breathing hard, and as I stroke his cock he curls his knees up and works the glass bulb against his loosened asshole.
“Fuck, it’s big,” he whimpers. “It’s too big. I can’t.”
This boy, this perfect boy, my boy, he gets off on having a challenge, being told what he needs to do and then succeeding at it. “I want to make you come, but I can’t until you get that in. You picked the thickest one they had because you wanted me to watch you take it, right?”
“Fuck,” he chokes out, arching his back and bearing down, because he’s fucking fearless, until the plug slides in and I reward him with a lick up the length of his cock. “It’s so fucking cold,” he gasps, twisting and struggling against the bed. “Wait, Gray, it’s too–I can’t move, I’m gonna come if I move.Please.”
We both jump when my phone rings. As I let go of his cock and check to make sure it’s not Oliver, he groans pitifully. It’s just one of the colleagues who shares my office space, calling to ask about some case study I said I’d print out and give to him. I pick up the phone to dismiss the call, and Jonah lets out such an indignant sound that I change my mind.
“Actually, this looks important. I need to take it.” I tug at his trousers. “Pull your pants up; you’re distracting me.”
“Gray.” He sits up, working his trousers back into place, and shudders as the plug shifts. “Oh Jesus.”
I pat his thigh, putting the phone to my ear. “Good. Just sit there and think on that for a little while. Howard, good to hear from you.”
All his muscles tense with the effort of not moving as he shivers, breathing fast and shallow.
