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But I was more than comfortable with this; we had explored spanking together, which was incredible, but Master had never taken a whip to my flesh. I wanted it; needed it. My entire body ached for it, and my throat went dry with anticipation. But I knew he would accept nothing but verbal consent, so I forced down a swallow to moisten my voice. “Yes, Master. I want to play.”
*****
Topher
“Good boy,” I replied as I sank my fingers into Anderson’s beard. I wasn’t praising him for agreeing; he was always free to decline. I was commending him for his communication. It was important that he was open with me to keep him safe. Even though our play could get intense, I would never hurt my boy.
I slid my hand down his chest and clutched the soft leather of his harness. When I gave it a tug, Anderson quickly rose to his feet. He was so receptive to my touch, and always eager to please me.
I kept hold of the strap as I walked to the rear of the room with Anderson trailing behind me. I knew that heads turned as we passed by others in the club. How could they not? My boy was hot as hell and I couldn’t blame anyone for looking. I wanted them to look; I fed off of their jealousy.
I led him down a hallway of locked doors, stopping to enter a code on a keypad next to the door marked with a 3. I’d rented a playroom for us to have privacy. While I enjoyed parading my sexy boy in front of other club members, I wanted to keep his pleasure to myself.
The door clicked and I pushed it open, leading Anderson inside and allowing the thick metal slab to clank shut behind us. My heart raced as I looked around the room; in the center stood an X-cross, which I would shortly put to good use. Along one wall was a black padded futon, and on the other, a cabinet filled with toys.
But before we got to the hot and heavy fun, I had a sweet surprise for Anderson. I instructed him, “On your knees,” and he was quick to obey, kneeling on the floor and folding his arms behind him. “Close your eyes and stick out your tongue.” Once again, he immediately did as I asked without question. His submission was the most beautiful thing in the world.
I hustled over to the cabinet, opening it to find my special request had been filled. I retrieved a can of whipped cream from the shelf. It was full and cool, but all of the plastic wrapping had been removed.
I popped off the cap and shook the can as I walked back to Anderson, who was waiting patiently. I turned the can over and pushed my finger against the nozzle, spraying a pile of white fluff onto his outstretched tongue. My boy knew better than to swallow. He remained still, waiting for me to do as I wished.
He always looked delicious, but with the added treat upon his tongue, I couldn’t resist a taste. I leaned in and wrapped my lips around his slick flesh, gently sucking away the cream, moaning at the sweet flavor. It was even sweeter mixed with Anderson’s natural taste.
“You’re such a delicious treat for me,” I told him, and a proud smile crossed his lips. “I’ve got a treat for you, too.”
“Thank you, Master,” he replied before even knowing what it was, grateful for anything I gave to him.
I unzipped my pants and fished out my cock, hard and throbbing from the view in front of me. I shook the can once more before spraying cream all over my dick until no skin was visible.
I grabbed my base and slapped my tip against Anderson’s waiting tongue, splashing white creamy drops over his cheeks and chin. “How does that taste, boy?”
“So g-” I didn’t let him finish his sentence. Instead, I gripped his chin, pulled it down, and shoved my cock between his lips. My boy was ready; he loosened his jaw and allowed my flesh to slide along his tongue until it brushed the back of his throat. I was a thick, cut, seven inches, and he took it like a champ. It made me want to give him more.
I gripped the back of his head, my fingertips sinking into his soft, smooth scalp, and pulled his face forward, sinking my cock further down his throat. Anderson gagged, but he didn’t jerk away or use his safe signal. He knew that if he needed to stop, all he had to do was raise his hand. But I knew his desires, and that he didn’t want to stop. He was hungry for it, and I was happy to feed him.
I pulled my hips back and snapped them forward, burying my length into his mouth. My boy swallowed around me, cleaning off some of the cream while the rest gathered around his lips, or dripped down his chin and onto the floor.
The sight drove me wild. I pistoned my hips, mercilessly fucking his warm, wet mouth as he sucked hard against me. I watched with slack-jawed awe as every fat inch of my cock disappeared again and again. A single tear streamed from the corner from his eye, pushed out by the force of my pounding.
It was a gorgeous sight, and could only be made better by one thing. “Open…your…eyes,” I instructed in grunts between my thrusts, and my boy’s eyelids snapped open. His pupils were filled with moisture and blown with lust.
“You were made to suck me,” I insisted through clenched teeth as I continued to shred his throat. Anderson appeared flattered as he batted his eyelashes, and the sweet gesture in the midst of our debauchery nearly did me in. I stepped back as I pushed his mouth off of my flesh.
“Enough,” I panted, trying to reel myself back; I nearly came in his talented mouth, but I wasn’t ready for this to be over. There was much more fun to be had. “On your feet.”
My boy rose in a blink and my gaze swept over his form. His chest shone with a thin layer of sweat and heaved with heavy breaths. His jock strap couldn’t contain his thick cock, which peeked out the side of the leather. A gob of pre-cum slid down his hairy thigh.
“To the cross.”
Anderson followed my commands like a fucking dream, stepping up to the X-cross with a bounce in his step. I’d strapped him in before, so he knew to spread his legs and lift his arms above his head.
Secured on each point of the X was a buckle. I wrapped both of his wrists and ankles in the straps and made sure they were secure by giving them a tug. He wasn’t going anywhere.
I made my way back to the toy cabinet, and my mouth watered as I lifted a flogger from the shelf. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and tested its heft; the weight was perfect in my palm.
I strummed my fingers through the black leather strips, imagining how beautiful they’d look against my boy’s skin. So what was I waiting for?
*****
