He stuttered a moan that sounded like a plea, and I took it inside me and let it stoke my own fire. He watched as I stood and got more cords from the table. T’was a good thing I’d bought enough to restrain him properlyandhave fun with his nubby.
I took his wrist and wrapped it with a piece of the cord, then secured it to the head of the bed. I did the same with the other, my dick hard and aching. I wanted to get into him soon, that was a fact. I wanted to fuck him as he was—tied down with his cock and balls in leather cords, at my mercy—because it touched something inside me that wanted him quiet and conquered, because he’d given me permission and continued to do so every minute he didn’t use his stop word.
He watched me with glazed eyes and a slow-blinking disbelief as I finished securing him.
“How’s that?” I asked when I was done.
“Perfect,” Oscar said, pulling at the bindings. “It’s…perfect.”
I smiled. Nodded once. “Good. Now you can’t touch yourself or save yourself, unless you use your word. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Oh, yes, sir.”
I stood there just looking at him laid out there for me, hardly believing how fortunate I was to have him.
“W—what are you gonna do now?” he said, pulling against his bonds, his cock bulging and leaking futile drips in its leather prison.
I gave him a slow smile and moved back to my position between his legs. I picked up the jar of saddle grease and showed it to him.
Oscar gasped and twitched. “Oh. Fuck.”
I nodded, with an evil smile. “Oh yes. There’s a sweet little hole down there just waiting for my attention.”
He whimpered as his forehead creased and closed his eyes.“Yes.”
“I’m gonna start with my fingers,” I said. “Get you nice and slick and ready.”
He whimpered again, a long sigh following.
I took the top off the jar and scooped up some grease onto my index and middle fingers.
“Then I’m gonna fuck you, Oscar Yates, until your cock figures out a way to spend while it’s all tied up like a Christmas turkey.”
His eyes flashed open and his lips parted as his cock surged, more moisture oozing out the shiny tip that was full out of its hood by now, looking vulnerable and sweet.
“Jimmy…” he whispered, squirming in a delicious way.
“Yes, Oscar?”
“Please.Please.”
“All right,” I said, rubbing my slick fingers against his soft hole and pushing them inside him.
He arched his back as I slid them fingers all the way into him, accompanied by his soft cry of submission. I stroked him on the inside as I pressed to find his spot, that little bundle of nerve endings that drove him crazy.
Sure enough, Oscar shuddered and groaned when I found it.
“Oh God.” He moaned. “Rightthere.”
I brushed my fingertip o’er it a few times, then withdrew them and spread grease o’er his hole and between his cheeks, making him nice and slippery.
When I breached him again, t’was with three fingers, and Oscar arched his back as I pushed them in deep.
He cursed and panted as I twisted them, opening him up so’s I could fuck him and do it well. He looked so beautiful, giving himself up to me and what I was doing. I couldn’t hardly look away—and why would I want to?
All of a sudden, I couldn’t stand it. I had reached a point of desperation so urgent that it took me by surprise with its severity.
I scrambled with my trousers and my long underwear, getting my dick out and slapping some grease on it, almost spending from the friction and the sight of Oscar below me, spread out on our bed and waiting—waiting forme.
