I’m lying in bed, alone, unable to sleep. Hand between my legs, images and scenes flit through my mind. I wait for something to settle in my minds eye, something I can work with.
My boy sits at my feet, one arm wrapped around my calf, head resting on my knee. My fingers massage his head, teasing his hair and reassuring him. My eyes roam the rest of the room, scenes already in progress. We’re waiting for our turn with the spanking bench, one of my favorite ways to take him.
He’s massaging my calf absent-mindedly. He can’t see me grinning at his impatience. I tap him twice on the shoulder and as he turns, I motion for him to reposition himself between my legs. He comes in close, sighing happily, nuzzling my crotch, breathing deeply. He presses against me, warming me with his breath, using his chin and forehead to press against me in just the right way. I lean back, one hand on the back of his head. He doesn’t need the direction, but likes the contact. I love the feel of the short hairs on the back of his head. It isn’t long before his focused attentions bring my half-hard cock to full arousal and my memory flashes to a scene in recent past.
I’m fucking his mouth, hard, beyond niceties, beyond caring, using him as he always wants to be used, thrusting deeply into him as he gasps for air and struggles to hold his position. His hands are cuffed behind his back, it’s up to me to hold him in place on his knees, on my cock. Lips pursed tightly around me, I know his tongue is working every contour it can reach, though I’m barely giving him a chance for that kind of subtlety. The animal need in me becomes a growl, my motions jerky and violent. The pressure behind my cock builds to the point of no return and I come down his throat, holding his face firmly against my body as he struggles for breath. Finishing, I let go of his head and he falls to the floor, retching and choking. Before long he’s at my feet, kissing my boots and thanking me for using him so well. “Thank you, Daddy, he says, voice rasping, Thank you. Please, is there anything else I can do for you, Daddy? Such a good boy.
Back to the present, I realize I’ve been holding him tightly against my bulging cock and his eyes have closed in happiness. He knows he turns me on, he knows I want to take him right there but I won’t, not yet. It’s not our turn yet. Later, when our scene is over and I’ve given him every reason to cry and beg for mercy, I’ll pull him into my lap, wrapped in my coat. He loves Daddy’s big coat. He will curl himself into an impossibly small ball and wrap his arms around my neck, pressing his face against my chest. He will wince and sigh as my fingers find the marks I’ve given him. He’ll squirm and moan as I brush against his sore hole, bruised and swollen from the hard fucking he received as a reward. He always wants more. Such a good boy.
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