A/N: This story contains very strong adult content, of a male/male nature. If that's not your thing, I suggest you hit the 'back' button if this isn't you're thing.
Here I present my long awaited 'SmutShot'. As above, a lot of mature adult content from the start and through out the story. Fair warning if you want to continue you reading. It's a slash pairing, so we're talking guy on guy here. Enough of my nonsense, on with the smut.
I do not own anything WWE related. Vague disclaimer. Read and review!
The key in the door makes me jump. I don't know why, it's not like I wasn't expecting it. Maybe that's it. It's because I was expecting it that I'm all shaken up.
A quick glance to the door and I see it slowly starting to push open. Dropping my eyes, I take in my appearance. Fuck. This is not how it was supposed to go down. I'm wearing a pair of faded denim blue jeans, hanging low over my hips, not least because the button is undone. And nothing else. Shirtless and freeballin' baby. The plans for a shower and changing into something else are obviously out of the window. He's here now. I'll just have to roll with it.
Just seeing him in the doorway sends chills rippling down over my body. The way the shadows fall just so over his body arouse my curiosity. Amongst other things.
He's tall, my lover. Over six feet, with a body any Greek statue would give its right nut for. The tanned skin is stretched over ever bulging, chiselled muscles that have been honed to perfection by dedicated hours at the gym. He's not overly buff like some of the other guys in the job, but he's bulky in all the right places. I think that makes him ten times as sexy as anyone else. His smooth chest and rock hard abs are the constant source of wet dreams - for me and the rest of hot-blooded community. He's just sex on legs. And the fucker knows it.
Before I met him, I wasn't really into tattoos. I figured the body was beautiful enough without letting some crayola loving freak colour it in for you in the name of 'body art'. Well I got over that real fast, let me tell you. And now? I'm a tattoo enthusiast. I'm actually thinking about getting one myself, but that's got fuck all to do with this so I'll drop it.
So he has these tribal-type designs all over his torso. I don't know what the fuck they are supposed to be, and I don't think he does either. But they are sexy if nothing else. The ink marks his forearms in streaks stretching up over his arms and onto the back of his shoulders. Damn I love his shoulders. I admit it; I have a thing for a man's back. There's nothing sexier than the tight muscles stretching on a guy's back, watching the skin ripple as he flexes his powerful shoulder blades. I don't give a crap what he says, Justin Timberlake was right on the money when he wrote SexyBack. That's exactly what the back is. Sexy.
It just so happens that he's got tattoo's covering his upper back, a design that stretches up to the back of his neck. God I'd love to run my tongue over that spot right now. If you can show me anything sexier than that, I'll join a convent and become a Nun. I'm serious. I mean, just the thought of them leaves a burning sensation in my groin that demands attention.
And from the look in his sparkling blue eyes, I know I'm going to get some too.
His face is gorgeous. He could have been a model if he'd wanted I'm sure. There's something a little Abercrombie and Bitch about my boy. His face is handsome in a traditional sense - all square jaw-line, high cheekbones and full pouting lips. God I love his lips. Forgive the side-track, but kissing happens to be one of my most favourite things, and he can kiss your breath away with those sweet mounds. It literally takes all my strength not to cross the room and kiss on those lips till my own are sore.
All in good time - at least I hope so.
He just stands there, looking at me. His face is hidden a little in shadow. I can see the glint of that tell-tale smirk on those lips - the way he exposes the twin rows of sparkling white teeth as he does so. It's because he's an arrogant son of a bitch. Christ I want to fuck him.
It's the eyes that I have a hard time with. Don't get me wrong. I'm sucker, quite literally I might add, for a pair of crystal blue eyes. His are perfection, like they were cut out of pure sapphires and placed on that beautiful face. It's the expression that makes me shiver. It's predatory. Dominating. Animal. His gaze devours me wholly, and I'm suddenly very aware of the night breeze on my naked chest. He still hasn't closed the door I realise. He's just standing there, lost in a sea of shadow and moonlight.
I know what he's doing. He loves doing it - with playing with my head. The one on top of my shoulders by the way. Don't pretend you weren't thinking about it.
Well it makes me uncomfortable, the weight of his animal stare bearing down on me from across the room. He's checking me out, his own little toy that he loves to play with. It's the possessive aspect that drives him wild. I'm his, and no-one else's. He told me that, the first time he fucked me. He said no matter what I did, no matter where I went, no matter who I fucked - I would always remember him inside me - forever. He would always be in my head and that I would always belong him.
God damn him for being right.
As much as my boy would deny it, I know he loves me. He hasn't said it, but he feels it. At least I think he does. From the length of my chocolate brown hair, to my own tight little body. He loves everything about me, and he can't ever get enough of it. Hell, I'm not modest. I'm hot. I know this, and you know it too. You've seen me in the ring, and out of it, right? I have a smile that will get me into the pants of anyone I want - male or female. I think it's the Hispanic heritage. Who could resist me? I mean let's be honest here. If it were possible, I'd fuck myself.
That's why he wants me so bad. He knows I could have anyone that I want. It just so happens that he's the only one that I want. Cue for a crappy rendition of a Grease song, but that aside, it's the dominance aspect of the relationship. Who has the power, if you will. He controls me. Every single part, from my head to my heart to my toes. It all belongs to him. It why he loves me. I think.
He gets off on the fact that I'm smaller than him too. I'm probably between twenty to sixty pounds lighter than him - depending on what he's shovelled into his face. And he's got a lot of height on me. I just about reach five-ten. He's six three. He loves to tower over me, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it too. I have a thing for taller men, and he more than fits the bill.
But it's the fact that he knows to use his height to his advantage. That he can hold me down if and when he wants to, and there's fuck all I can do about it. Oh I'll fight him, you can be sure of that, but he inevitably wins. His strong arms can hold me in check so he can do whatever he wants to me. He's done it before, and lord knows he'll do it again. It's all about submission for him - pushing to me till I break. It's one of his favourite little head-fucks. It's not enough that he controls my body, he has to control my head or he doesn't enjoy it. It turns him on to make me his bitch. Yes, I admit it. He's made a bitch out of me. He's in charge, whether I like it or not.
Don't get me wrong, there's something incredibly sexy about being dominated. Especially when the guy dominating you is as hot as my boy is. But I defy anyone who says knowing you're cornered by a near nymphomaniac who can literally do anything he wants to you wouldn't make you a little nervous. Not that I think he'd ever hurt me. He's come pretty close, but never gone all the way. Still, all I have to do is look into those eyes of his. Wolf eyes, as I like to think of them. There's something hidden in those blue depths, maybe a part of him he wants to unleash on me?
I know I'm talking bullshit, but it's really hard to explain our relationship - if that's what it is. All I know is if I do what I'm told, he makes me feel really good. If I'm naughty? Well, I'll leave the rest to your twisted imagination…
He slams the door shut without a word, giving me a near heart attack from surprise. With my heart pounding, I take a step to steady myself. But I shouldn't have bothered. He's stalking me, toying with me till he comes in for the kill. He strides across the room with his powerful thighs - did I mention those yet? Easily, the sexiest legs ever. Period.
So he comes thundering towards me, arms tensed and eyes blazing in hunger that only one source can cure. Me.
I'm caught up between his arms, and forced against the wall before I can do anything about it. Not that I'd try. What would be the point? I stifle a yelp as my shirtless back comes into contact with the cool wall. If feels nice against my skin, which is burning with desire from just seeing him. Lord knows how I'll cope when he starts touching me.
Immediately, his hands press my arms against the wall by the wrist. His face looms over mine in the dark and I suddenly find myself wishing I'd turned the lights on. There's that same fucking smirk on his lips. He knows he's got me, and he's loving every damn second of it.
He lowers his head to mine, and I figure he's about to attack my lips. Wrong. He inhales deeply, brushing his lips over my neck as he travels along the flesh and into my hair. I shudder involuntarily at the movement. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply of my smell which should be of coconut and vanilla. What, you think you bitches are the only ones who pay attention hair care?
I'm held against the wall like this, my wrists pinned on either side of my head as he continues to take in my smell. It's incredibly erotic, and I can already feel myself begin to harden in my jeans. Finally, he lifts his head to my ear, nudging a lock of hair back from my face with his nose.
Those beautiful mounds brush against my ear as he speaks, stimulating the flesh as his breath caress my cheek. I can't held but struggle helplessly at the sheer sensations he brings to life in me. It's funny how he makes my body react. I don't want him to stop, but I can't help but struggle against him. "Light the candles…till they're nice and soft…and when they start to drip…I'm gonna get you off…"
Son of a bitch! I can't help but groan at the sultry whisper invading my ear. He knows exactly what he's doing, quoting a line from one of my favourite songs ever, saying exactly the right words to drive me wild.
He let's me go, releasing my wrists which have begun to tingle because of the pressure he had on them. With a final smirk, he walks away from me, heading to the bedroom. I follow him with my eyes, focusing specifically on the round of his ass as he walks. The dress pants are unbelievably expensive, and shift over the round of his buttocks as he moves. It's the sort of ass you'd want to stick your head up so you could wear it as a hat because it's that beautiful.
Still with me after that thought? Good for you. So, enough of my grotesque mental image, I've got to get these candles lit! Yes, I know I said he was quoting a favourite song of mine, just to make me squirm. But I happen to know he actually wants these things lit. It's a personal favourite of his to have me by candle light. I'm sure there's something slightly romantic about that…maybe in a twisted way, right?
Lighter in hand, I start moving around the apartment, lighting candles of assorted shapes and sizes as I find them. That's what I love about my home. It's a beachfront property that overlooks the ocean, and has some of the most spectacular sunsets you could possibly witness. Well, that's the other thing I love about my home. It's the fact that it's all one floor, basically a big rectangle and the candles are literally positioned everywhere. There's no pesky staircase to contend with when the mood takes you. You can grab your lover and move straight to the bed. Great right?
Lighting the last one, I stand back to admire my handiwork. Light flickers invitingly from every surface in the room. The shelves on the walls, the desk surfaces, the television, the corners of the room - even my bedside cabinet glows with candlelight. Health and safety be damned, this is perfect.
I'm thinking about getting that bottle of red wine from the kitchen when he surprises me from behind. God, if I had a dollar for every time I'd ever said those words…
Both my boy's large hands rest on my waist, the palms pressing against my exposed skin. His chin finds the curve of my shoulder, just as his hips find my ass. His voice is a sultry whisper in my ear as his hands find my chest, exploring the flesh with warm fingers. "Will you let yourself go wild…let my mouth go where it wants to..?"
As he speaks the words into my ears, his fingers trace down the valley between the muscles in my chests. He curves the tips of his fingers beneath each muscle, teasing me in places that I didn't even realise I had places. Those ever inquisitive fingers move upwards, each reaching their final destination. Ever so slowly, he begins to trace a perfect circle around each of my nipples. Every once in a while, he brushes past the fleshy peak and I make no effort to stop him. They don't stand a chance, and immediately stand proudly out from the slab of muscle where they were hidden. He teases the peaks, brushing back and forth over them with his thumbs. Finally, he takes each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, squeezing them gently, rolling them back and forth.
I moan in a low voice that I don't recognise as my own. It's deep and full with lust, and obviously has the desired effect. He releases my chest, and turns me around in his arms. I come face to face with his bare chest, smooth tanned skin begging to be licked and kissed and grazed. His finger catches me beneath my chin, tilting my head back so I look up to face him. I do it hesitantly, strangely nervous and being so close to those wolf eyes. I look up, and am immediately lost in the pools of blues. For a moment - just a brief second - he's not the predator I'm expecting. The hand that raised my head rests gently on my cheek, cupping my face tenderly. Those baby blues are soft and inviting. They question me intently, asking all things he won't say.
Am I okay? Do I want him to carry on with the seduction, or do I want him to stop?
It's because he respects me so much that I love him like I do. Yes I admit it. I love him, god help me. That's why I let him do what he wants to my body. Just looking into those sapphire pools, and there's no question of if he loves me. I know by just one look that he would never force me to do anything I didn't want to do. He loves me too much for that. And it's because I know all this, that he finds no resistance in my own eyes.
I want him to take control of me, and make me submit to his lust. Part of me is frightened of how far he'll take it, but it's easily outweighed by the excitement I feel at what is going to come next. No-one knows my body like he does. Nobody else could do the things that he does, make me say and do things I never imagined were inside me. I want it just as badly as he wants to give it to me, and he knows it.
Smiling up at him, I lick my lips slowly. I know full well what I'm doing, and the sight of my pink tongue gliding over my lips is anything but innocent. I'm teasing him, and watching him bite down on his own bottom lip makes my body pulse with excitement. I couldn't give him better 'come fuck me' eyes if I tried.
Evidently, it's all the assurance he needs. Before I know it, his hand grasps the back of head and a good load of hair in the process. He presses my head to his, crushing my lips against those silky bumps of his. These kisses are surely going to be the death of me. It starts of as a harsh crush of flesh against flesh, an expression of hidden need and building desire. He takes control quickly, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, forcing me to submit to him. He teases the plump flesh, easing his tongue into my own mouth to meet my own. He holds me there for a moment, and I totally caught in the moment - lost in the warm feeling of his mouth against mine.
Eventually, he begins to walk me backwards. I don't stop him. I just grab hold of that beautiful back to steady myself, moaning into his mouth as he explores the inside of mine.
Now is one of those times that he uses his height and power to his advantage, and I'm silently thrilled. He leans me backwards onto the bed, tilting me off my feet as he places me down carefully on the mattress. It's soft against my skin, caressing my naked back as his hands take care of my front. His body lies on top of mine, but I barely notice the weight. I'm still too lost in the feel of his lips kissing the life out of me.
He's clever my boy. He knows how to get exactly what he wants out of me without trying to get it. It's not like I'd ever stop him. Anything he asks, I would do. Still, where's the fun in that? Being taking advantage of beats asking for it any day of the week.
As it is I'm so lost in rapture from his lips, that I barely notice him lifting my hands above his head. The next thing I know is the belt tightening around my wrists, binding them together. The only thing I can guess is that he brought it from the bedroom with him, but that hardly matters, does it? The leather bites into my skin as he tightens it to the point of bordering on discomfort. He's not done however, as he ties the belt to the metal bars that make up the head-board. I'm nothing if not a genius for buying this bed. It's a master and slave dream.
I love being tied up. I thought I'd make that clear before we go any further. Call me a nympho whore and whatever else, but there's something incredibly orgasmic about being restrained. Of course, only certain people understand the significance of it. Usually, when someone breaks out the handcuffs out, they just lock their piece up and continue to screw as normal. Uh, hello? Did you people miss the memo? The whole idea of tying someone up is so that you do things differently. If you're going to plain bone them like you normally would, why bother with the handcuffs in the first place?
It's about sensation morons. Your partner has the power, they control the sensations running through your body. But more than that, they have the responsibility of using your other senses to make you feel what they're doing to you, instead of relying on your hands. Quite simply, it's all about the power. Who has got it, and how they use it.
Here endeth the lesson.
My hands struggle against the belt, half playfully, the other half for real. It's no fun if you don't struggle, but I actually want to get these things off me. It's just occurred to me that my boy is in nothing more than a pair of white boxer briefs. His little friend (for reference - by little, I'm using a term endearment, not describing its actual size) has gone all Incredible Hulk on me and is trying to tear out of those briefs. Dammit, I swear I'd sell my own mother to let it loose.
He's noticed me drooling over the tent in his underwear. With a seductive smirk, he leans back to straddle my waist, resting on his heels. He places one hand on my own bulge, massage it none to gently in his fist through the denim. His other hand slides down his smooth abs, the entire thing disappearing beneath the waist band of his underwear, driving me to the brink of insanity in the process. I immediately strain against my bonds as I see his fist rising and falling beneath the white material. He's jacking himself off, right in front of me! His other hand mirrors the actions, rubbing up and down over the steel rod inside my jeans. He knows how to tease, and does it so irritatingly well I'm not sure if I want to smack him or suck him into oblivion.
Any other night, I'd be happy enough to lay back and watch him touch himself. Tonight however, I'm totally into audience participation. Back track on the genius of the 'Do It Yourself Bondage Bed'. I'm a fucking idiot.
He senses how frustrated I am at being tied down. The hand that had been pleasuring himself emerges from inside the briefs. Extending a single finger, he places it on my lips to quieten me. "Shush," he whispers, "not another word. Do you understand me? You don't speak until I say you can. Got it?"
To prove my understanding, I skilfully suck the finger into my mouth. I immediately taste his scent on the finger, it's warm and heavy. I devour it. My tongue twists around the digit, sliding up the length and back down again. He holds it in my mouth for a moment, apparently enjoying the feeling of my mouth. Finally, he pulls it from lips. The finger trails down over my own lips to feel my neck. It finds the valley between my pecs again, this time sliding further down to my abs. His fingers spread out, and he takes his time kneading the muscles in my stomach, feeling the rock hard abdominals give nothing under the pressure he applies. His hand reaches my jeans, and rests on the zipper that has started to come undone.
He glances back up to me, a wicked expression on his beautiful face. He holds my eyes with his own, and I am powerless to look away. It's like he's put me in a trance, one which I can't break free from. Who am I kidding? I wouldn't try to even if I wanted to.
With the same finger, he pushes the zipper down all the way to the bottom. The 'V' of my lower abdomen is especially visible now, and is one of his favourite parts on my body. Hell, I love it too. It's one of the sexiest features on a man. I know you agree with me.
My boy does, and proves it by exploring my lower abdomen with his curious hands. His skin is soft and glides over my own, leaving a tingling in its wake. Finally, he grips the waist of my jeans, and begins to ease them down over my hips. Being the helpful little slut I am, I lift my ass up off the bed. He flashes me a naughty smile and pulls the jeans free of my hips and down off my legs. An eyebrow arches on his head as he surveys my nakedness beneath. My erection is ready and waiting, springing upwards to slap against my flat stomach. He grips the base in his fist, squeezing so tight that it hurts. I groan in response, and he immediately tells me to shut up.
It turns out that the belt isn't the only surprise my boy had planned for the evening. From out of nowhere, he produces a blue titanium ring and my body stiffens because I know what it is. God knows where he hid that. I'm starting to wonder if his briefs were pre-owned by Mary Poppins and he's got other shit stored in there somewhere that he pulls out for a rainy day..
Back to the ring. It's a fucking cock-ring, and the glint in his eyes is just plain nasty. For those of you who are not in the know, I'll explain these little devices for you. These rings are placed either around a dude's dick and/or his nuts. For the erectile dysfunctional, it means you keep your hard on because it slows down the blood flow to and from your dick. For strapping, young, virile and let me assure you all systems go guys like myself, its used as a sex toy. See, not only does it slow down the blood flow to maintain an erection, which have I mentioned I don't need, but it also delays orgasm. Which means I don't get to release until he says so. Bastard.
With one hand wrapped firmly around my dick, he slowly starts to jack me off. I love the feeling of his hand on me, making firm slow strokes up and down my erection. His hand is incredibly soft, and it takes all of my presence of mind not to start moaning now. Up and down. Up and down. It's a steady rhythm, agonisingly slow. Just as his hand reaches the head, he slides it back down again to the base. Squeezing my eyes shut, I push my hips upwards, desperate for greater contact.
He immediately pushes my hips back down, and his hand is gone from my erection. Instead, I feel the icy chill of the ring brushing against my shaft as he slides it downwards. He takes great care in feeding my nuts through the ring, until they're through completely and the ring is in place. I feel my hardness bulge to an uncomfortable tightness now. The dull throb at the base starts to creep its way the shaft to reach the tip. Blood is pumping in, and it has nowhere to go. It feels like its going burst in excruciating pleasure in a matter of seconds, and I really don't know if I can take it.
His lips press down against my lower abdomen, leaving a burning sensation as his tongue explores my abs. He takes his time, letting his tongue meander its way over the tight muscles there. It swirls around my naval and follows a direct line up to my chest. Both of his lips take over, kissing the defined muscles in my chest. He's in no rush, tasting every inch of my chest and deliberately ignoring the most sensitive part.
I'm doing my best to keep as cool as possible, but inside I want to throw my head back and groan. I'm forced to bite down on my lip as his mouth closes over my left nipple. His mouth is scalding against my cool chest as his tongue plays with the peak of flesh. Flicking his tongue over it makes my hips jerk. I know what's coming and I'm losing my mind because of it.
He brings his teeth together, nibbling on my nipple as his thumb and for finger begin to tease the other. Pleasure explodes through my body, stretching through my veins from my chest to the very tips of my fingers. I can't take this feeling, and my head thrashes from side to side, my face screwed into a mask of painful ecstasy. He swaps over, placing his mouth where his hand had been and vice versa. He starts to graze the other nipple with his teeth, tugging until it reaches its peak.
Just when I think I'm going to die from the pleasure, he goes one further. His free hand slips down between out bodies and cups my balls. With the utmost skill, he begins to roll them around in his hand, thumbing the underside of my erection in the process. The motion is firm enough to send spikes of pleasure through my body, but not enough to hurt. It doesn't matter, because I'm pushed over the edge and loose all capacity for reason. Before I can stop it, my voice comes out as a strangled yelp, begging him to fuck me. I immediately regret it.
His hands and mouth are suddenly gone from my body, and painful emptiness is left in their wake. Instead, his mouth clamps down over mine. His teeth, that had been providing so much pleasure, now give me a jolt of pain as they bite down onto my bottom lip. I groan because of it, and he reluctantly releases my lip, not without giving it a final tug. With a finger placed over my mouth, his eyes glower at me from above, telling me to stay quiet.
His head moves from my immediate vision, and I'm forced to crane my neck to see him. Sliding his athletic body down the bed, he's now kneeling at the foot. I can seem the smirk on his face coming from behind my engorged erection. With a feline grace, he starts to crawl back towards me, keeping his head low. It gives me a perfect view of his shoulders, which tense and flex as he pushes his weight down onto his palms. His hot breath steals my attention, caressing the globes of flesh hanging from between my legs. He blows on them softly, eliciting a violent shudder from me. Exposing his tongue, he traces it over the skin before taking a single round into his mouth.
He sucks gently, and my dick strains away from my body. The feeling of him rolling it around in his mouth consumes me, and my entire body goes rigid.
My back arches off the bed, and he responds by taking the other one into his mouth. His mouth sears against both my balls, sucking them deeper into the blazing cavern of his mouth. My own mouth is so tightly biting down onto my lip I'm surprised I haven't drawn blood. A scream of ecstasy burns in my throat, and it I desperately want to release it. But if I do, I know he'll stop. And that sounds like a fate worse than death right now.
Mercifully, he lets my balls go. Now his face looms over my throbbing shaft, his tongue licking his lips in anticipation while his hand grabs the base in a tight fist. With a final glance thrown in my direction, he takes the head into his mouth. No fuss, no words and no teasing. Best of all, none of that licking the head shit that people - and by that, I mean women - seem to think gets a guy off. Tip girls, it really doesn't. My boy knows this, and knows exactly how to please me. I guess it really does take a man to know what another man wants, and he's proving it right now. I'm buried in his mouth, and his tongue swirls around the head in a demanding fashion. That really is too much and I resort to biting into my own arm to keep myself quite. The liquid heat closing over my already throbbing member releases a series of fireworks in my brain, to the point where I swear I can't see anymore. My manhood is so beyond sensitive right now, and his mouth sucking inch after inch further into his throat hurts in the most exquisite way.
I feel his nose pressing against me, and I see that he's taken the entire length into his mouth. I'm not biggest guy in the world, but I applaud anyone who can take the entire seven and half inches of me. He swallows, the throat constricting around my aching hardness which brings tears to my eyes. I squeeze them shut, feeling the warm tears pool at the corners of eyelids. You remember how I said this is all about sensation? Well I've pretty much hit sensation overload. Blood is pumping into my erection, engorging it to unbelievable levels and he keeps sucking me. Normally, you get to a point where your dick can't take anymore and you explode, right? Not with a ring on you don't. The orgasm just keeps building and building inside, but it has no way to release. I'm harder than I've ever been in my life, and he still keeps on swallowing me.
Every flick of his tongue and swallowing action feels tenfold on my aching manhood. It feels like someone jacked me off with sandpaper my dick is so painfully sensitive, and I'm stuck in one continuous orgasm. Only this orgasm gets stronger with every passing second instead of ebbing away. It's like a volcano inside, spewing liquid gold from my groin through my entire body. I am lost to it, and everything around me falls into nothingness - as though my body is floating up from the bed.
I come crashing back to earth however as his fingers find the sac between my legs. He continues his deep-throating, dragging me to a higher level of pleasurable pain. I must be becoming delirious as my head rolls backwards onto the pillows. Tears stream freely down my cheeks, and I don't care. I've gone past the point of tolerance, and I've lost myself to his burning mouth. I'm whimpering, and I don't even realise it. I don't know what I'm saying, and I don't care.
He does however, and finally releases me from his mouth. Thank god he's showing mercy for the noise I'm making, because I really can't help it. He has full control over my body now. I'm just a puppet to his desire. My entire being is aroused to a point where I feel everything, but am numb from it at the same time. It's a wonder I haven't passed out from it all.
A brief reprieve comes in the form of his own erection. Somewhere between having my lip bitten and receiving the greatest head ever, he's removed his boxer briefs. God he's big. At least nine inches, probably more, and lord only knows how thick. Despite its girth, it's easily the most beautiful dick I've ever seen. It's smooth and straight, jutting proudly out from his body like a column of stone. Through tear streaked eyes, I can see him straddling my chest. His erection hangs in front of me, but I don't have the strength to lift my head to it. He knows this, and leans forward onto his knees.
I may be exhausted, but I'll never bee too tired to give my boy what he wants. My lips part and my mouth is filled with his dick. It's thick and heavy in my mouth, and lesser guys would choke. Not me. It's taken me a while, but I've finally gotten over the whole gag reflex and can proudly take a lot of him into my mouth. He bucks his hips slowly, sliding an extra few inches into my mouth. I seal my lips around it, my cheeks hollowing as I provided extreme suction. His moan is loud and primal as he starts to rock his hips back and forth. The length slides in to my mouth till I feel him buried against the back of my throat. He immediately pulls back until only the head remains. I flick my tongue over it as I suck, licking the underside of the head as his hips thrust forward again. Shallow gasps echo from his mouths as he pulls back once more.
We find a natural rhythm, and he places his hands on the walls above me to steady himself as his hips rock back and forth, thrusting into my mouth. Obviously I'm a little too good and what I'm doing because he abruptly pulls it out of my mouth. His weight is gone from my body, and I blink my eyes to see where he is.
I shouldn't have worried however; as I feel his hands lift my legs into the air. With one leg on either of his shoulders, he tilts my hips backwards. I feel the air brush against my exposed opening, and shudder against his body. I'm certain I hear him chuckle, and he caresses my inner thighs with his lips. He dips his head lower, and I can feel his tongue against me. This time I groan with last ounce of strength I can muster and he does nothing about it. His tongue burns against me, flicking over the entrance to my channel. My hips spasm, but that doesn't stop my boy. He continues working his tongue on me, warming the tight ring of muscles until they are relaxed and pliable.
I feel his finger enter where his tongue had been, and I hiss through clenched teeth. Remember I said he had big hands? Well he has long fingers too. I feel it slide inside me, before pulling back out again. He continues the steady move, pushing it forward, each time a little further into me before pulling it back out again. He whispers something that I don't catch, but I certainly feel the second finger he spears into me. My automatic response is to tense the muscles, but I resist it. You've got no choice but to relax when you're getting some butt love. If you're tense, it just plain hurts.
The two fingers spearing into me find a fast rhythm that is comfortable for us both. I've loosened because they are sliding back and forth without any kind of resistance. The burning in the tight ring of muscle now feels like a warm glow in my hips, centring behind my aching erection. Every now and again, he makes a scissoring action with his fingers in an attempt to widen me. Part of me wants to tell him that you'd need a car jack to widen someone enough to take all of him, but I keep quite. With a final thrust of his fingers, he pulls them out.
He stands at the end of the bed, a bottle of lubrication in his hands. Where the hell did that come from? Must be those Poppins pants again. He squeezes the clear liquid into his palm, slathering it over his hard shaft with a lustful relish. It's obvious what's coming next, and my body trembles with excitement. You're probably wondering why we aren't practicing safe sex, right? Well, here's the thing. We're both very much into the 'no glove, no love' movement. But we trust one another completely. We would never screw around behind each other's back, and it's because of this I don't insist on him wearing a condom. We're both clean, and I want to feel him inside me without any kind of barrier between us.
He loves me for that. I know he does. It was actually his birthday present this year. Well, more like ours because there are only fifteen days between us. But you don't care, so I'll get back to it.
When he feels he's sufficiently lubricated his dick, he kneels down onto the bed between my legs. This is his favourite position - me on my back where he can look into my eyes as he thrusts into me. It's his way of making sure that he's truly inside my head. As if my ass wasn't enough.
Both his hands slide beneath my buttocks, lifting them slightly. I can't see his lower half, but I certainly feel him position the head against my opening. I exhale slowly, to calm my nerves and relax myself. It's coming, I know it. It's the kind of nervous anticipation I crave. The moments before our bodies come together as one. Both crystal blue eyes study me intently from above. "You are who you are, and I wouldn't want to change a thing…" His voice is a whisper above me, and he looks expectantly.
"In spite of all the pain that love can bring." Without hesitation I reply. My voice is hoarse and tight, but I reply none the less. I know what he's doing, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest because of it. "Tell me…" I whisper, eyes focused on his.
"What can I do…" Comes my reply from him. He leans forward down between my legs, his chest lying on mine. He's barely inches away from and mine and I swear I can taste his lips. His hands rest on either side of my head, stroking the hair back from my face. The head of his manhood presses against my opening, and I can't help but wince. He smiles. "I'm so in love with you."
He pushes himself inside me as he speaks, immediately covering my mouth in a burning kiss. I groan from the pain, my voice lost in his mouth as he continues to kiss me regardless. He eases himself into me, and I feel the tight cocoon of muscles stretch to take him. The head disappears inside me, followed by inch and after inch of his manhood. I want to beg him to stop, but can't because of his kiss. My hands struggle against the bonds, but I needn't have bothered. I forget how well he knows me, and has already stopped pushing forward. He's halfway inside of me, and holds still.
I take as many breaths as possible as he laps at my neck, giving me time to get used to the swell of him inside me. I won't lie to you, it hurts. It really does, and the fact he's extremely well endowed just makes it worse. However I'm not going to adhere to those screaming bitches who say it doesn't feel good. It does, it's just a different kind of pain. If you disagree with that, you're obviously doing it wrong.
My body relaxes beneath him, and he leans back, easing himself the rest of the way in. Finally, the blunt heat of his manhood settles all the way inside me, burning me up from the inside out. He whispers to me, telling me how good I feel around him. I can't form the words to reply, only whimper as he starts to pull out of me. It's the strangest sensation, feeling yourself constrict as your lover slides back out of you. It doesn't last very long before he thrusts forward again, buried deep inside me.
He's only rocking his hips at the moment, taking it really slowly. I know he won't last long doing that, he never does. He says I do something to him, like I draw him deeper inside me to the point where he loses control of himself. I know we're approaching that as he starts to buck his hips. He spears inside me forcefully, jolting me entire body. Again he thrusts, this time harder than before. I breathe through my teeth, squeezing my eyes closed. I'm slowly getting used to the feeling of him invading me, and begin to match his thrusts.
I move my hips to match his, allowing him greater access to me and my inviting warmth. His hands grip my hips in response, pulling me down onto him as he surges forward. Each time he enters me, I moan, my body welcoming him back like a long lost lover caught in a tight embrace. He's getting his rhythm now, pummelling inside me over and over again. His eyes continue to smoulder into mine. It's driving me wild, and I can't help but scream at the feeling. Oh yes. I'm a screamer. My lover's not. He grunts and groans and says the dirtiest things to me, asking me how much I want him to spear me? Do I want it so bad that I'll beg? Say my name, he commands and I oblige.
"Randy!" I scream spasmodically. His hips bang like a piston, over and over again, filling me and surrounding me till I'm totally his. That face is a sexy mix of concentration and a devilish smirk as he watches the reactions play across me face. He tells me to say his name again and I do. My voice suddenly becomes a continuous groan of his name, over and over again. He loves it. I know it because his lips attack my nipples again, biting and sucking on the flesh.
He alters the position of his hips, now hitting me from a different angle. I scream the most vulgar of obscenities as his manhood butts against my prostate. Painful bliss is set on fire inside me, flowing through my veins, making me tense my lower body. I barely notice it, but I know my lover feels it. He grunts with every thrust, loving how I squeeze myself around him. His hand wraps itself about my erection again, and starts pumping away as though his life depending on it. If I was in erotic agony before, this defies description. His engorged hardness is spearing my prostate, whilst his massive hand pulses over and over again on my bulging dick. I can't speak to scream, my voice lost somewhere in the realms of ecstasy.
I can't help but let my head roll back, my eyes falling to the back of my head. I've broken eye contact, and he doesn't like. I don't actually care at this point, the tears falling from my eyes in rivers down my cheeks would obscure my vision anyway.
He lets go of my dick, thank god, and pulls himself out of my core. Gripping my waist, he turns me over onto my front. The belt holding my wrists twists around, tightening it's strangling hold over my hands. I groan at the pain, but he doesn't care.
His body is against mine again. I've got no time to prepare myself as he's pushing his manhood back into my waiting insides. I moan into the pillow, and the back of his hand connects with the cheek of my ass. A resounding slap echoes over his grunts, and I feel the sting of the contact. I can't help but groan, so he just slaps me again, this time harder. Each time he slaps me, I squeak, and he just spanks me that little bit harder. This could be me doing it on purpose, I honestly couldn't tell you. But we've entered a rhythm of spanking and thrusting and my ass feels wonderfully raw from the abuse.
He leans onto my back, his hardness finding my pleasure centre again. His hips grind against my ass, causing friction between my erection and the bed beneath me. He bites down onto my shoulder, causing me to arch my back. My head flies back and his hands wrap around my chest. He holds me like this, back arched and his mouth pressed against the curve between my neck and shoulder. He's really getting his fill of me tonight. He thrusts so powerfully, my entire body bounces with the forces. My legs tremble and I really can't support myself. But he just holds me there, ploughing into me from behind.
Perhaps mercifully, the end is approaching it. I can tell by the way his breath changes. He starts panting, his voice a broken groan as he pumps harder and harder into me, threatening to tear me in two. He's reaching the edge of heaven and immediately shoves my head back down against the bed. Grabbing me by the hips, he lifts my ass up off the bed, thrusting his last into me.
He pulls out, and groans with his release. I feel it on my lower back. It's hot and sticky and burns into the flesh as he pumps seemingly endless floods over me. He holds me like that for moment, making sure the last remnants of his orgasm are well and truly spent.
I hear his chest heaving as he breathes so laboriously. He really enjoyed himself. Now, at this point most lovers would collapse next you, telling you how good it feels and leaving you so over stimulated you feel like you're entire body is about to explode. Not my boy however. He's not done yet.
He lovingly rolls me over onto my back, with much more care than he was just showing me. I'm thankful for the release of pressure on my wrists, but shudder as I feel his hands on my dick again. He smiles softly at me, telling me to look at the candles. I do so, and see how low they've started to burn. Melted wax drips from all the candles, and I nearly sigh with relief. He continues to whisper, telling me to relax because he's going to make me feel good.
Carefully, he takes the ring off me. My balls immediately retract against my body. My erection does not need any help to achieve release, but that doesn't stop my boy. His mouth closes down over me at once, swallowing my cock to the back of his throat. Sliding a finger back inside me, he sucks repeatedly on engorged manhood as I whimper softly as he fingers inside me. My release hits me with the force of a freight train. All that stimulation and pleasure has swollen my dick to impossible proportions and I'm a veritable O-bomb. I feel it like an earthquake in my body. It explodes from the very pit of my stomach and through my erection, streaming like liquid velvet from inside. I try to mumble some warning, but he won't hear of it. He sucks on me greedily as my entire body is paralysed by the release. He swallows every last drop I produce until there is no more, and continues to suck gently on me.
I am utterly spent, and my body falls limp. I don't feel his hands on my wrists, freeing me from my bonds. They fall limply at the sides of my head, and I make no effort to move them. I don't have to, as my boy gathers me lovingly in his arms. He pulls me against his chest, cradling my head as he softly kisses my hair. We lay here for a minute, basking in the afterglow of our love making. The forceful master is gone. My lover is all that's left behind. He whispers gently into my hair, planting kisses over my tear stained cheeks and swollen lips. Those same kisses gently sooth my shoulder where he bit into me, his strong hands gently caressing my body and rub the feeling back into my wrists.
The dull ache in my lower back tells me this is going to hurt worse than falling off a ladder and landing through a table tomorrow. Mental note. No taking it in the ass for the next forty-eight hours. Okay, twenty four then. Besides, after a night like this one? I'll gladly take the pain.
"You were amazing Paul." he whispers to me, settling back onto the pillows with me in his arms. I smirk in response, wrapping my arm around his waist.
Sleep threatens to take me, but I want to make this moment last for as long as I can. I love these little games we play, and this one went better than I thought it would. Who knew him coming home and catching me in just a pair of jeans would turn out to be so fuckin' hot?
Admit it, he plays the dominating sexual predator so well. Almost as good as I play the prey. The best part of all is that he goes back to being my boyfriend again. I love that about him. The guy who just had his forceful way with me is gone. He was not my boyfriend. My boyfriend is the guy holding me gently and whispering to me by candle light. That character he just played is no more real than the guy you see on television every week.
And there's nothing I love more than falling asleep, utterly spent, in the arms of Randy Orton. My boyfriend. There really is no better place to be. Jealous?
"It was unbelievable," I reply in a sleep hazed voice. I sound drunk, but that doesn't bother either of us. His delicious chest making the greatest pillow ever and I'm down for the count. "But next time, I get to tie you to the bed."
I hear the laugh rumble from the inside of his chest, just as my eyes fall closed. I'm not quite gone when I feel him stroke my hair. It's tender and loving the way he moves his fingers over and through my hair. Sex is so much better when it's with someone you really love. Am I right?
He's kissing my head softly, and I realise he must think I'm asleep already. "I love you Paul London." He says it ever so softly into my hair that I barely catch it. If I wasn't paying attention, I wouldn't have heard him. I'm glad I did, despite the fact I'm pretty sure my heart just did a huge somersault inside my chest.
"I love you too Randy Orton."
I wish I could see the look on his face when I spoke, but I really am too tired to lift my head. With a yawn, I finally let go and fall into the greatest sleep of my life. But not before I add a final : -
"You thrill me."