My phone is ringing. Again. I give it my best "stop annoying me or I'll break your bones" glare. Maybe it will shut the fuck up. 30 seconds go by. The damn thing is still ringing. I take a deep breath and pick it up.
"Kinney" I say, doing my best not to start wishing death on the person on the other side before I know what they want. It doesn't work. I guess my best is not enough.
"This is jean from Fuzzy Candles," how very exciting. "Mr. Peters can't decide about the boards. He wants more options". Again. Third time this week. But what can you expect from a person that named his business "Fuzzy Candles"? Why would a candle be fuzzy?
"sure. Tell Mr. peters we'll have some new directions for him on our meeting tomorrow". Sorry Jessica from the art department, no sleep for you. Yet again. Jean is very excited to hear that. Jean can go fuck herself for all I care. I assure Jean the excitement is mutual and hang up. I turn to the sink and wash my face. This day was supposed to be easy. How did it get so damn annoying?
It started good. I woke up before my alarm, a rare occasion. I turn my head to my left and see my favorite pile of blond hair, pale skin and pink lips spread out on my dark sheets. I glance at the clock on my night stand. 10 minutes. Good. He won't even have enough time to whine about the temperature in the room. I reach to my night stand, to get a condom and the lube from the top drawer. I stroke myself a few times and wear the condom. I guess all the movement woke him up because I feel his hand on my arm. "Hey" I say, turning my body towards him. He didn't wake enough to answer me so he rolls over silently. Another rare occasion. I coat my fingers with a generous amount of lube, more the usual. I take my time with the lube. We don't have time for foreplay, this would ease things up a bit. I climb on top of him. He's so worm. I don't waste any time. He moans his approval quietly when I run my fingers through his crack. He bends his right knee to the side, giving me convenient access to his hole. Very considerate of him. I work efficiently, gently opening him up. I try not to be too rough on him, but we're on a tight schedule here. Almost as tight as his ass. His breathing deepens while I work my fingers in and out of his ass a few times but he doesn't move. Still silent. Must be my lucky day. I know he will start talking soon. And he won't stop until he'll fall asleep.
"you wormed it up" he says.
"ha?"
"the lube. You wormed it up for me". I hear content his voice.
I did. And he is one observant motherfucker, given the fact he is more asleep then awake. I tell him to go back to sleep while I line my cock up with his hole. I keep my forehead on his upper back as I glide in, one hand guiding my cock, the other on his shoulder. I'm in. and out. And in again. He's tight and warm and welcoming and he feels so damn good. I could do this all day. Justin starts moaning softly, still laying mainly flat on his stomach. I start reaching for his cock when my morning goes to hell. My cell rings. It must be work.
"it's probably Cynthia" my sleepy blond fairy informs me, pushing his bottom up. As if I don't know. I ignore him and the phone and my hand reached his dick. His pubes are so soft. I know how good they can feel against my cheeks, how they smell like my soap... But I don't have time for this right now. Must stay focused. This fuck is to a point. The clock is ticking.
"She can wait" I say, pumping his shaft with my hand. I love his cock. I really do. So smooth and fits my hand perfectly. The damn thing stops ringing. I sigh in relief. Too soon. Now she's calling me on the line of the loft. I fucking hate phones. I ignore the stupid device on my desk and give my full attention to the device in my hand. Justin's cock starts leaking. That was fast. Oh, sweet youth.
"Maybe you should get that". He would sound a lot more persuasive if he'll stop thrusting into my hand. Judging by the sounds he makes, I don't think that's going to happen.
"The machine will get it". That's what it's for, right? I try to push all of that out of my brain and concentrate on this fuck. Justin makes that very easy. He's completely awake now, and he's totally committed. on his knees, head on his pillow. The moaning gets more visceral. I run my fingers through his hair and lean foreword to give his neck some attention. Our hips move in a perfect sync. And then the machine finally gets it.
"Brian, I know it's early, but we need Friedman's approval to forward the money and he's about to catch a flight to japan in 20 minutes. You need to talk to him. NOW"
Shit. She's right. Justin pretends to be the responsible adult and pulls away. I hate it when he tries to do the responsible thing. I try to pull him back. I need this. He objects half-heartedly.
"go" he says, his tone promising he will still be there when I'm finished. I sigh. I get up slowly and walk to my desk, getting rid of the condom on my way. I hang up on Cynthia and call Freidman. I turn around to look at the bed. I miss it. So warm and comfortable and full of Justin. And so far away.
Justin looks at me playfully, laying on his back now. A teasing smile on his face. If I hadn't told him about that account he wouldn't think I can't be bothered while I'm on the phone. That means he would have followed me to the phone, probably ending up with my cock down his throat. This is why I hate telling him stuff. Nothing good comes out of telling stuff.
I signal him that this will take a while. He smiles at me even wider and starts stroking himself, trying to keep us both in the mood. He knows we don't have much time in the mornings. Our current fuck is all about efficiency. He'll be ready to pick up from where we left as soon as I'm of the fucking phone. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
And then his cell rings. He doesn't break eye contact, his right hand still on his dick, answering with his left without checking who it is. A fatal mistake. That's his mom. I can tell because he sits up immediately, his hand leaves his cock and the devilish grin is gone. From his defensive tone I guess he's in trouble.
When I finally get the approval and finish forwarding the news to Ted and Cynthia he's still on his phone. And I'm not very far from being late. I have an important 9 o'clock. I mouth "come join me" to Justin and head for the shower. He looks at me sadly, doing his best to blow his mom off. I stay under the water as long as I can, not jerking off because I'm hoping he'll join me. He doesn't. when I come out I hear shreds of his apology to his mom. From what I hear I'm not sure he knows what he has done, but he's doing his best to get off the phone. I dry myself and dress and finish my morning routine and when I'm done he's still on the phone.
"but mom, I'm really truly sorry…" I hear as I come closer to steal a kiss. He grabs my hand and holds it dramatically until I'm too far away. I open the door, take in the sight of him sitting naked on the couch, looking completely desperate.
The desperation I see in his eyes is of the wrong kind. I like seeing desperation and frustration on Justin's face when I know I caused it. I like having him on his knees, literally or not, begging me to relief his pain. and I like watching the bliss on his face when I do. But this one is out of my reach.
So now I'm frustrated, handling stupid clients and wanting to break things. This day is bullshit. I leave the bathroom, telling Cynthia to break the bad news to Jessica. I also send her to break the bad news to Ted. Jessica is getting a raise, he'll need to re- do the taxes and the art department's budget. He'll freak out and whine and he'll do an excellent job. All great accountants freak out and whine before they do an excellent job. I bet they learn that in college. Cynthia looks at me.
"what do you want?" I burst, warning in my voice. She doesn't flinch.
"he has a free period in half an hour" she tells me. I glare at her. She's not impressed. Maybe I need to work on my glaring skills. "I rescheduled your 12 o'clock. Do you want me to call him or do you want to do that yourself?" I want to strangle her. And I want to call him. Since when does she have his schedule?
"why are you still here?" I snipe at her. She rolls her eyes and goes to do her job. I pick up my cell and text Justin. I hope he wants to play, because I want to. I need to. Desperately. He texts me back. It's a yes. Finally, something to look forward to on this stupid, useless day. I go to clear my desk and finish all the phone calls I have on my list before he gets here. No interference this time. None. When I'm done I walk over to Cynthia's desk, sending her on a long, long lunch break. I stay at the lobby, going over some papers.
I smell him before I see him. A very distinct mixture of paint and laundry soap. I look up and see him. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, already losing his coat and scarf. He smiles at me and walks straight into my arms. I get a closer whiff. I can smell myself on his neck.
"someone didn't take a shower this morning", I tease.
"no" he says sadly. "By the time I got off the phone I was already late".
He tries to get even closer to me, his head in my chest. I let him. I ask him what it was all about, listening to him vent for a while. He goes on and on, I do my best to listen. I allow his rambling because he needs it, and because once he steps into my office I'll do the talking. he knows that. I lull him a bit, playing with his hair while he's talking. I caress his face softly until his done, tracing his jaw line with my fingers. We kiss, slowly and deeply. His lips are soft against mine. He tastes like cheap coffee and that bar he usually eats for breakfast and he still manages to be apettizing.
I need him very calm, as calm as I can get him. When I feel he's relaxed enough I push him away gently. He knows what's going to happen now. He takes a deep breath. I use his chin to tilt his face up, forcing him to look at me. We look at each other for a moment, our first move of the game. I look at him like I own him. Which I do, when we play. He looks down and tries to turn his face away, embarrassed. He's not allowed to do that. My dick, however, appreciates the gesture. "Justin", I warn him. He doesn't want to start this on the wrong note. He looks back at me. I'm very pleased with what I see. He's a little nervous, as he usually is when we start playing. But he trusts me and he wants to pleas me and it definitely shows on his pretty face.
"get into my office, take your clothes off" I order quietly. He gives me a "yes Brian" and goes to do as he's told. Some people want their subs to address them as "sir". I don't. I have enough of this at work. Both my cock and my ego respond very well to my name, when it's said in the right tone. Justin knows the right tone. He delivers perfectly.
I follow him into my office, closing the door and locking it. I take my jacket and my tie of, rolling my sleeves up. I watch Justin going through his routine from the other side of the room. We've done this before, he knows exactly what to do. He's naked now, folding his clothes neatly and putting them in their place. I gave him a special drawer for that. He knows I'm watching, he's trying to do this fast. When he finishes he stands by the side of my desk all naked, head down and looking at the floor. I light a cigarette. He'll wait. I can go buy cigarettes in New York, and when I'll be back he'll still be at the same position. He's a good boy. I trained him well.
That's the essence of our game. Him being a good boy for me. Him giving me complete control over himself, me taking it and using it as I see fit. The sole purpose of his existence when we play is pleasing me, letting me control him, physically and mentally. He wants to be a good boy so bad. We both get high on this.
I smoke slowly, watching him trying to satisfy me. He's standing still, his breathing tells me it's not easy for him. But he'll do this for me. I can see on his face what goes on in his head. Will I come closer? What am I going to do with him? was he a good boy? Why am I still standing in the other side of the room? Did he make a mistake?
This waiting drives him nuts, but it's essential. We need him to go on a sub mode, and it's not so easy for him sometimes. The routine helps him to lose control on the situation, so I can take it.
I enjoy the sight of him slightly fidgeting naked in my office, his cock half erect already. I can feel the sense of power running through me. He's mine. I can do what I want with him and he'll thank me when I'm finished. My personal play toy. My soft skinned, cherub faced, gasping for air play toy. Mine. All of him. That thought is intoxicating. I step closer to my blond toy as I finish my cigarette. I toss the tail to the ashtray. He can hear me approaching, his anticipation completely visible on his face. He still looks on the floor. He knows better than to look at me without my permission.
I stand in front of him, indulging on what I see. Pale skin that makes my teeth ache, begging for a bite. Small frame, so easy to move and turn and toss around and bend as I wish. So easy to pin down exactly the way I want without the ability to object. The pink nipples, always erect for me, always red and swollen when I'm done with them. God, he is so inviting.
I raise my hand to hold him firmly by his throat. I turn him around. I run my hand down his back, over his ass and grab his inner thigh. "bend", I command and he follows immediately. I keep my left hand on the small of his back, my right hand between his legs. "open your legs for me". He does. He finds what I'm going to do humiliating, and it makes him hard. That scared him when we started our games. Now he embraces it, and so do I. "good boy" I say softly, trying to sooth him a bit, to make this a tiny bit easier. "I want to look at that hole". I know his face is red even though I can't see. I go down, spreading his butt cheeks with my thumbs, exposing his hole. My hole. This hole is mine. I can do whatever I want with that hole. Those thoughts go straight to my cock. Or maybe they come from there, I'm not sure. All I know is that I want him bad. I feel drunk. Everything about Justin is beautiful and pink. Pink lips, pink nipples, pink hole. All for me. He is so delicious looking, I can barely control myself.
I stand up, grabbing his blond hair to pull him up with me. I pull his head to the left, exposing his neck. He's breathing heavily, still blushing, embarrassed. I decide to twist the knife.
"why are you so red, Justin?" I whisper straight into his ear.
"do you feel uncomfortable showing me that hole?". He closes his eyes, the discomfort clear on his face.
"answer me" I say firmly. He needs it. We both do.
"I'm embarrassed, Brian". I still hold his head to the side. Took a lot from him to say that.
"who's hole is that?" I ask him.
"yours, Brian". He's panting now.
"it is mine. I like using that hole. Do you like it when I use your hole?"
"yes, Brian. I like it a lot". This is easier for him. He feels relieved, not so tense under my grasp.
"Do you want to bring me pleasure?" I sand us back to safe grounds now. The answer is obvious.
"yes Brian. More than anything". He means it. I can feel it in my cock. I let go of his hair and send my right hand to his nipples. I find one and I pinch it, very lightly.
"how do you pleas me, Justin?" I ask, my moth at his left ear. We both get more and more excited by the second.
"by being a good boy for you Brian, by doing as I'm told to". True. He is a good boy and he does as he's told. And when he doesn't he pays for it.
"do you want to be a good boy Justin?"
"yes, Brian, yes!"
"I want you to stay very still and very quiet. Understood?"
"yes Brian"
I squeeze his nipple hard with my right hand. I twist it. My left hand holds him close to me. I can feel him tense as he fights the urge to move. He holds his breath, trying not to cry out. I let go of his nipple and rube his upper body with my left hand. I'm not gentle, but this is not painful. It's soothing him.
"good boy" I praise him. I can literally feel his pride in his body. I hold him against me, positioning my left hand on his chest and sending my right hand to his cock. He's hard. I grab it. He gasps. I pull on his hair. He was told to be quiet. I start pumping him roughly with my dry hand. If we were just having sex this would be too rough. But at this point on our session it's pleasurable for him. I feel his cock leaking.
"you're wet Justin. You're such a little slut". He likes it when I call him like that. It makes him harder.
Who's slut are you?"
"yours Brian. I'm your slut". He is. He's happy to be. I turn him around.
"look at me". His head tilts up, his eyes meet mine. The look on his face goes straight between my legs. I hold him by the throat. I'm not chocking him, but he feels my grip.
"I don't want to hear you, Justin. Not a peep". His eyes widen. His in trouble and he knows it. The nervous and helpless expression on his angelic face is registered by my cock. I enjoy that part. It makes me feel in total control over him. I shove my hand into his mouth. "wet it for me". He's sucking on my fingers and licking my hand, looking right into my eyes the whole time. I decide that's enough and my hand resumes the assault on his dick. I jerk him off roughly and quickly, pulling and tugging. I play with his balls and tease his slit. He is so wet. I smile my vicious smile, never breaking the eye contact. I feel him starting to lose it. He wants to close his eyes and throw his head back, but he can't. I won't allow it. He fights to breathe quietly, drawing air through his mouth, struggling with the urge to moan. It's really hard for him. Justin is a moaner. You barely touch his neck with your tongue and already the neighbors nock on your door, complaining about the noise.
"close your mouth". I'm one cruel bastard. Let's see him managing to draw enough air through that little turned- up button nose of his. He can't. The slight lack of air only emphasizes the affect of my hand on his cock. We're racing to the end of his rope now, I can tell. His knees weaken, trying to bend under his weight. He fights it. For me. He wants so bad to be a good boy for me, he'll do anything. The helplessness in his eyes changes to a plea. His eyes beg for my mercy, for me to ease his struggles.
Justin really is in trouble, you see. He wants to come, but he's not allowed to without my permission, and he can't ask for permission, beg for it, as he usually does because I told him to keep quiet. He won't dare to disobey me. We've done similar things before. His experience with me teaches him that there is a chance I won't spare him. I'm a son of a bitch, I know. I stare at his face, indulging on his distress for a while, before I decide to show him some mercy.
"do you want to come, boy toy?" I ask. It's a test. He didn't get permission to speak. His eyes are on fire, still silent.
"answer me", I give him the desired permission to beg for his life. He passed the test. He earned it.
"yes Brian please, please, I want to come Brian, please" he's panting. The words roll of his tongue without thought or control. Something tingles in my soul, at my very core. I enjoy this, every bit of this. The look on his face. The sound of him begging me breathlessly. I might come myself, high on my absolute control over him. Control given willingly by him. More than willingly. I'm thankful for that gift, I admire him for giving it to me.
"come for me, little toy" I spare him. I feel him coming a second latter.
"thank you, Brian" he says breathlessly after his orgasm is over. He looked right into my eyes all the way through it. Such good manners. I trained him well. I hold his face with both of my hands. "good boy", I say softly, giving him the words he craves the most. He deserves them. I stroke his hair gently. I give us a moment. He beams at me. I smile back. Something goes between us. Something worm and soft.
"I'm not done with you yet" I say firmly, breaking the moment and bringing us back to the here and now. I go to my desk and take out the lube I have in one of my drawers. He watches me with his eager- to- pleas look, determined to show me that he really is a good boy, that I was right when I told him that. He can be sweet like that. I put some lube on his hand.
"go to the couch and prepare yourself for me". Another routine. He'll do it on his hands and knees, his left hand supporting him and his right spreading the lube in his hole. When he'll have three fingers up his ass I'll know his ready. He won't stop fucking himself with his fingers until I'll replace them with something else. I watched him do this for 15 minutes once, ending our session without replacing his fingers and without granting him permission to come. He wasn't being a good boy that day.
While I watch him doing as he's told I take my belt off. The buckle has sharp edges, I don't want to risk it scratching Justin's skin. My cock aches. He's been good today. And he looks so enticing, fucking himself on my couch for me. One finger. The flush returns to his cheeks. Two fingers. He moans softly, almost inwardly. That would change soon. I can see the scissoring motion of his fingers. The tricks he tops must really like that. The moaning gets louder. Three fingers. My turn to play.
I climb on the couch and position myself behind him. I take a condom out of my pocket, lower my pants and sheath my cock. I bend his left hand and push his face into the soft leather of the couch. His right hand is still in his ass. He is so obedient today. I hold it still and move it away. I look at his hole. He did a good job for me. I like what I see. The hole looks back at me. I guess it likes what it sees too, because it's so moist looking And pink, Flushed with anticipation. I ram all the way in forcefully. I pull out slowly most of the way and take a second to tell Justin he can play with his cock and moan if he wants. He does. I tighten my grip on his hips and then I lose myself in his ass. His warmth, his movements, his audible pleasure surround me. He feels so good, he makes me feel so good. He purrs under my hands that roam his back. I barley hear him asking for permission to come. I let him. I can feel his pulse running through his delicate neck, under my teeth and my lips. He comes. His ass clutches around me, I can feel his shivering in my bones. I follow him to sweet bliss a few thrusts later, collapsing on top of him.
I'm exhausted, physically and mentally. I catch my breath for a moment and pull out, making sure to get read of the condom the appropriate way. Very gently I turn him on his back, smiling at him as he tries to catch his breath. The expression on his face means the world to me. He looks so happy and content and vulnerable, so open and exposed. I take off my shirt and use it to cover my good, good boy. I lay back next to him on the couch, letting the warm and soft thing to take over me.
I move him until his head rests on my chest, soothing him. He won't move on his own or initiate anything when he's like that. I stroke his face gently.
"you were such a good boy today, Justin". He beams at me with 100000 watts. I feel like he recharges me.
"I'm so proud of you" I say softly into his hair. I can feel the affection of my words on him.
"Brian…" he starts, but he can't speak. I smile at him and run my fingers through his hair. Those words are everything to him. Everything. They mean so much that it's hard for him to handle in his current state of mind. He gets so sweet when he's like that. I know how he feels, my little bundle of blond and pink. I can see it on he's face, I can smell it in his breath. I'm so pleased with him, he needs to know. I need him to know. I want him to know. We hug and stroke and cuddle each other for a few minutes, both slowly getting down from our high. He's still a little overwhelmed. It makes him vulnerable. I can't send him back to the world like that. I need to help him raise his shields again. Gradually. Softly.
"Thank you for today, Justin. I needed that".
"Glad to help". I know you are, sunshine. I can hear the smile in your voice.
"So how did your day go? Are you finally finished with that fluffy candles guy?" he asks, toying with my fingers.
"Fuzzy Candles. And no, unfortunately." I tell him about my day, trying to ground him back to reality. But we have time, don't we? I think we can enjoy this for a little while.
And then my phone rings.