Part 1

“Bend over, Justin.”

The tone of his voice brooks no argument, but he can’t be serious.

“You can’t fuck me here, Brian. We’re in a clothing store.”

“In the change room.” He points as he talks. “And I’m not going to fuck you.”

I look at him, my feet moving even though my head is starting to send out little alarm bells.

“I’m going to spank you.”

He says it nonchalantly, like he’s telling me what he wants for dinner. I stop, the vicious rush of blood to my dick making me light-headed for a second.

“Bri…” I start to protest but he’s already holding the door open, waiting for me. I can’t believe I’m walking in.

He doesn’t even smile, he just watches me. I feel my face burning. He looks at my pants, then back at my face.

His voice is deceptively soft when he speaks. “Take them off, Justin.”

I open my mouth, but I don’t seem to be able to say anything. I fumble with my zipper, my hands clumsy and awkward. My cock is suddenly so hard it hurts.

He sits on the little stool in the change room, still watching me. He lets his eyes roam my body, very slowly. I stand, waiting. My pants are in a pile at my feet. He brings his eyes back to my face and I blush. He nods and my heart clenches. What the fuck am I doing?

I lower myself to my knees, moving towards him, then lay myself over his lap. His pants are rough beneath me, the wool of his suit prickling my skin. I resist the urge to squirm.

He lifts me up a bit, his warm hand making me gasp when it closes around my cock. I moan quietly when he moves it between his legs, pushing me back down once it’s trapped by his long thigh muscles.

The spanks are hard and fast, the sound of his hand echoing in the small space. I blush furiously when I realize anyone walking by will hear this, the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin. My cock weeps the moment he pauses, blood rushing to my ass where his hand was, then flooding back to my dick in a wicked cycle.

He starts again and I jerk, biting down on the moan that wants to come out. His thighs squeeze my cock and I’m panting before he even starts talking.

“You love this, don’t you Justin.” His voice is so low I barely hear him, and the sound makes me shiver. “Love it as much as you love me fucking you. Love the feel of my hand on your ass… the heat… the sting.” I feel the blood in my cock surge. “Love it as much as you love me.” He smiles as he says that.

I whimper when he stops again, his hand caressing my hot skin softly. I lift my hips automatically when he reaches around to my cock, checking me.

“Such a wet boy, Justin.” His voice is a murmur, his hand moving away too fast. I can feel his cock against the side of my body, can feel that I’m not the only one who likes this. My mouth floods at the thought of tasting him, of making him come. I want him to hurry.

He stops caressing my ass, lifts his hands away from my body. I wait, my cock throbbing. I can’t see much of him other than his legs, so I don’t know what he’s doing. I jump a little when his hand touches my head, turns my face to the opposite wall. His fingers are so gentle it makes me marvel for a minute – how he can slap my ass and caress my face with the same hand. And both touches tell me what he feels, what he gives to me, as well as what he takes.

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to because I see the mirror the moment my head turns.

I suck in a breath at the sight of us. I can’t look away despite the rush of embarrassment that fills me, because the heat is stronger. I drink in his aroused face, his elegant suit, his dark shiny shoes. My red ass, my even redder face, my pale skin against the dark wool. It all swirls together in my brain and I feel like I’ll come if he touches me.

I hear the small strangled moan come out of my mouth as I watch his hand move, then gasp as the spanks start again. His other hand comes to the back of my head and holds me there, keeps me watching us. I see my body flinch slightly when each slap lands, see how still he is despite how hard it feels. I know he’s not using anywhere near as much force as he can, but I’m still surprised at how effortless it looks.

I’m mortified at the sight of my body over his knees, more so at how much it turns me on.

And I’m dying from the urge to rut between his legs but I don’t dare. I wonder if I’ll still be able to see us when I blow him. I flush at the thought that he will, that he’ll watch the whole thing.

When he stops, I choke out a small sob, my chest heaving. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath. He motions me up with his head and I slide off him, my dick almost touching my stomach as I kneel. I reach for his belt but he stops my hand. I look at him, and he just smiles at me.

“Get dressed.”

I hear the little sound of protest from my lips before I see his eyebrow go up. I want to touch him, so I move closer and let my fingers slide across his chest. He keeps smiling at me, but I can tell that I’m not getting what I want. Not right now, anyway. I frown in my frustration. He usually lets me touch him when we do this. I know he’s horny, so I don’t understand why he doesn’t want me to. The thought that I can’t makes me want it more. Makes me ache for it. And he fucking knows it.

I hate that he knows me as well as I know myself. That he knew I’d leave, but then knew I’d come back eventually. That he waited, all the while appearing not to.

That he knows that sometimes, not very often, this is what I need.

And today, he’s going to make me earn it. I feel the tingle run through my body as I realize that he’s going to drag this out, going to take me with him, wherever it is that we’re going. And I’ll follow him. I realized that too, when I was gone. I may need to step away sometimes, even for a long time, but I’ll always come back. And he’ll always be there when I do. It’s just what we do.

I start to pull on my underwear but he interrupts me,

“No. Leave them off.”

I flush, my dick jumping a little as his words register. He checks his hair in the mirror, fixes his tie while he waits for me to finish. I straighten up, watching him.

“Let’s go.” His voice is firm.

“Where?”

“Change of scenery.” He’s smiling as he opens the door. I follow him into the store, blushing when I realize we didn’t even bother to take any clothes in with us.

He squeezes my ass on the way out of the store, and it makes me twitch. His lips get close to my ear as he smiles at the startled sales guy watching us leave,

“You’re nowhere near done, my love.”

His grin is feral, a flash of the old Brian. I don’t see it very often anymore, after so much has happened between us. But he always knows when it’s what I need, what I crave. And now my heart doesn’t fight my cock the way it used to. Now both of them get what they need.

I take a deep breath, letting him pull me into the street.

Part 2

After we walk out into the bright evening, he stops. I practically bump into him, but he just turns and looks at me. He stares for a long moment, then pulls me against him, kissing me deeply. I sigh into his mouth, my fingers clutching his shoulders. I’m trembling when he pulls away, my blood racing.

I want him to fuck me right here.

I shake my head in an effort to clear it, following him to the car. I don’t know where we’re going, but then I realize it looks familiar.

“Brian, are we going to… Michael and Ben’s?” I’m pretty stumped by this one. He laughs at the look on my face. He nods.

My eyes go wide, before the incredulous frown spreads across my face. “Uh, Brian…” I start, but he cuts me off, laughing.

“Ben’s birthday party. Remember?”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. Shit, I totally forgot. I feel guilty for a second, then I look over at him. Did he actually buy a gift and everything? I glance in the back seat, and sure enough – a small wrapped package. I shake my head, marveling yet again at how much he’s changed in so many small ways. And some big ones too.

I stare at his profile, seeing the small wrinkles around his eyes, the perfect line of his nose, the pout of his mouth. I lean closer to him, wanting to touch him, to smell him. He glances at me, a slow, sultry smile on his face. He watches my fingers splay on his leg, but he doesn’t say anything.

I bring my face closer to his neck, inhaling the scent of him. I’m not sure why I’m so horny, but then I think about the store, the feel of his hand holding my head down, the look of us in the mirror. I make a little breathy sound as I nuzzle his neck, needing to taste his skin.

He lets me lick him, even shivers a bit as my tongue swipes just below his ear. But then he’s gently pushing me away, reaching for the door handle. Then I realize the car has stopped and we’re here.

We go into the house and everyone else is already there, the party in full swing. There are people I don’t really recognize, friends of Ben and Michael’s, neighbours. Brian holds my hand as we make our way through the crowd.

I can tell that his attention is more on me than anything else, even though he doesn’t look at me at all. I’m riveted to his side somehow. I nod my obligatory greetings, shake hands and kiss babies when I have to, but every nerve in my body feels trained on him. My cock isn’t as hard as it was, but my arousal is still lingering, hyper-sensitive to him.

I feel this intoxicating sense of anticipation, and it’s making my knees weak.

But I try to pay attention to the people around me, even leaving Brian’s side for a while to help Ben in the kitchen. I feel his absence like an ache though, so I make my exit back to him as soon as I can.

When I stand beside him again, he slips an arm around my waist and I feel better. He’s listening to some guy talk about interest rates or mortgage rates or something like that, and it’s all I can do not to laugh. I’m not the least bit surprised when he leans his mouth into my ear. Until I hear what he says.

“Ready for more?”

More what? Not what I think he means…

His hand snakes down my back, cupping my ass through my pants. I shift a little when he squeezes. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it certainly wakes my cock up.

“Go upstairs.” The tone is back in his voice, even though it’s quiet.

I look at him, a mixture of dread and excitement in my eyes. He doesn’t even look though, just turns his attention back to the guy nattering away in front of him.

I can feel the pressure building, his expectation lingering in the air like a palpable weight around me. My voice cracks when I excuse myself.

I try to breathe normally as I walk up the stairs, rationalizing that he may just want to get away from the crowd and needs me as an excuse. Or maybe…

Fuck it, I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I stop at the top of the stairs, unsure where I should go. I glance at the bathroom, but then decide on one of the bedrooms. Hopefully a safer choice. Or maybe a riskier one. I smooth my palms down my thighs, trying not to feel like a nervous school girl on prom night. Jesus, Justin – get a grip.

When the door opens and he’s there, unexpectedly, I pull in a breath. I barely have time to register his presence before the door slams shut, and suddenly he’s yanking my arm and spinning me around, and I’m slammed against the door. I gasp out a breath as he shoves me hard against the wood, his body pressing into mine, covering me, pinning me. My hands grasp weakly at his arms in an attempt to regain my balance.

His mouth is on my neck, my face, his thigh pushing hard into my crotch. I grind against him, my body lost to this onslaught. He growls into my skin, his need so furious and intense I can taste it.

I’m still reeling when he pulls me away from the door, opening it. He shoves me into the hall, and I stumble, my hands catching the railing for support. He’s behind me in an instant, his long hard body pushing mine into the wooden spindles. I push back, the wanton craving washing over me as I smell him, feel him, hear him.

His hands are pushing my pants lower and I jerk, realizing we’re in the hall – anyone coming upstairs will see us. Hell, anyone looking up the stairs will see me, bent over the railing. Shit.

I push back, trying to turn around, but he’s stronger than me. He shoves with his hips, and I feel his dick and it makes mine throb.

“Brian…” my voice is barely a whisper. God, do I really sound that horny? I clear my throat and try again. “Brian.”

He licks my ear, his hands stilling on my pants.

“Take them off.”

What?

He hasn’t touched my dick yet, but his hands are resting on my hips, his warm skin touching mine where he’s pushed my pants lower. I shift a little, needing his hands closer.

“Now.”

I feel the flush run through my body, but I can’t do this. Not here.

“Not here.” I whisper.

He pulls away, and I feel the inches between us like a physical pain. I turn in his arms. His face is flushed, his eyes lidded. I wet my lips nervously.

“Brian…” I start.

He says nothing, but I understand more in his glance than I could in a thousand words. I’m not sure I’m strong enough for this.

“Now.”

His voice makes every hair on the back of my neck stand up, even though it’s barely audible. I suck in a deep breath and turn around, my hands on my hips. I push the fabric down slowly, pleading with any god I can think of that no one comes up the stairs.

I arch my back, my hips pushing into him in an effort to keep my pants just below my ass, to keep them from falling to my feet. The air is so cool on my warm skin that I feel a shudder run up my spine until it makes me shake my head to clear it. My dick is slicking my stomach every time it touches my skin.

His hands on my ass make me gasp. They’re warm, and dry, and I need him to touch me so badly I want to cry. He kneads me for a minute, his long fingers firm and rough on my skin.

I moan quietly, bending deeper at the waist. My hands hold the railing for dear life. He pulls me apart and I stop breathing for a moment, hoping he will fuck me. I whimper softly when his hands leave my skin, his whole body shifting behind me.

“Hold on.” I hear his whisper a split second before I feel his hand.

I grasp the banister tighter when I feel the first slap, my whole body jerking from the force. The sting spreads through me like a fever, and my body shudders. His other hand pushes my head lower, forcing me more into a ninety degree angle. I bend instantly, willing my body to comply with his every need.

I bite my lip as the spanks rain down, my ass burning and my cock jerking. I desperately hope I’m not crying out. He still hasn’t touched my dick and I think I’m going to die from it. Sometimes he won’t let me touch him, but he almost always touches me, alternating stinging slaps with intense stroking, building me to a momentum I can never outlast. I don’t know why he isn’t touching me this time, but I just hold on and hope to god I can survive this.

I hear a noise and I open my eyes, seeing someone stop at the bottom of the stairs and look up. My body jerks forward from the force of the spank and my mouth falls open. The guy at the bottom of the stairs watches, his eyes widening. I’m barely breathing, and I can’t get any words out. He sees my body move forward again and I realize he probably thinks I’m getting fucked. I moan my humiliation and I hear Brian grunt behind me. He’s enjoying this. The guy stands there for another second and then turns around, walking away from the stairs. I moan louder. This is unbelievably embarrassing. I think my dick is dripping onto the floor.

I’m huffing out my breath as he spanks, his hand burning my skin as it falls. My knuckles are white on the railing, but I try to keep my hips still. Brian always appreciates it when I keep my hips still. Maybe he’ll reward me by touching me if I’m good. Please let me be good enough to earn that…

When he stops I try not to crumple, but it’s more than I can bear. He catches me, his hands grabbing my hips as my knees give out. He pulls me back against him, his arms wrapping around me as he steps backwards into the bedroom again.

Once we’re out of the hallway I fall against him, turning so I can bury my burning face into his chest. He cradles me, pulling me back until I’m sitting on him on the bed. He holds me tight and presses his lips to the side of my face. I struggle to get my breathing back to normal, and his long, smooth strokes on my back start to even out my heart beat. I push my nose into his neck, breathing the scent of his sweat and his arousal. I moan softly, needing his skin on mine, his mouth on my body. Needing him in me. Now.

“Brian… please…” my voice is barely a whisper. My mouth traces his chin, his neck, his collarbone. My hands start to pull at his shirt.

I groan when his hands close over mine, stopping me.

“No, Justin.” His voice is soft, but not open to discussion.

I’m not sure if the pleas are in my head or coming from my mouth, but I kiss him desperately, my lips sucking his skin as I try harder to convince him that he wants this. I want this so badly I can’t breathe.

He pushes me off his lap, gently, but with enough force that I have no choice but to stand up. I fall to my knees beside the bed, reaching for him again. He holds my hands, bringing them to his cloth covered dick. He lets me stroke him for a minute, lets me feel the blood pulsing in his cock before he pulls them away.

He brings my hands to his mouth, and I look up at him, his eyes on mine. He kisses one palm, his warm lips sending shockwaves down my arm. Then his lips open in a lazy, sexy smile, and he pulls one finger into his mouth. I moan deeply as he sucks my finger, his tongue swirling around it as if it were my cock. He keeps his eyes locked on mine as he pulls my finger out, his tongue trailing down my hand, over the inside of my wrist. He sucks the skin of my wrist where my pulse beats, my heart stopping in my chest. My face falls as I realize I’ll come if he does it for one moment longer.

He stops, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. But then the frustration wells again and I lean up into him, my hands reaching for him. He grabs both of my wrists suddenly, making me jerk in shock. He yanks my arms above my head, making me stretch up on my knees as high as I can. The heat whips through me so dangerously I moan. I feel the shudder pass through my body as I try to breathe.

“I said no, Justin.” His voice is so low and flinty I think I'll die.

“Get up. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

My mouth hangs open as he eventually releases my arms. They drop to my sides, the blood rushing back into them as I struggle to my feet. I pull my pants up with shaky hands, looking up as he watches me. He smoothes his clothes, and I see his raging cock outlined in his pants. I will myself not to drop to my knees again, not to beg. I know there will be time for that later. Wherever we’re going…

Part 3

I’m pretty sure we made the appropriate goodbyes as we left the party, but it seems really far away already. Brian’s arm steers me back to the car and I feel myself lean into him heavily as we walk. I feel inflamed and ridiculously conspicuous but hopefully it’s not as obvious as it feels.

God, please let us be going somewhere private to finish this. I’m not sure how much more I can take. The intensity of the desire, the pain – that’s hard enough to handle, but it’s the uncertainty, the total lack of control – that’s what makes my knees weak. And he knows it.

We’re driving again and I’m trying to focus, but all I can do is fidget. He seems completely calm, as usual. My skin feels hot and I want to take my clothes off. I want to feel his hands on me, his mouth. Even if his touch isn’t gentle, I just want him to touch me. I need his hands to ground me.

“Justin.”

My name jolts me out of my reverie. I look at him immediately, blushing even though I don’t know why.

“Relax, Justin.” He looks at my fidgeting hands and smiles. “Am I going to have to tie you up to get you through this?”

I suck in a breath, his words going straight to my dick. He reaches a hand over to my face, brushing my hair behind my ear.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s smiling as he teases me, his voice soft and low. I know that he’s right.

“That would be too easy for you, Justin.” I close my eyes as his voice washes over me. “You know you can do better than that.”

I flush with shame, unable to look at him. I can do better. I will.

I take a deep breath and concentrate on listening to my heart until I realize we’re at the loft already. I wait until he gets out, knowing he will come around the car to get me. I take his offered hand as I step out of the car.

He pulls me against him, letting my body press against his. I sigh, my hands resting on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my fingers. It centers me, connects me to him. Reminds me that I never want to be far away from it again.

I assume he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t - he just holds me against him, his body hard and lean, his breath tickling my forehead. I look up at him, and the intensity of his stare makes my pulse thrum.

He doesn’t say anything, but I feel my breath start to get faster, my nerves start to unravel. I somehow know he doesn’t want me to move, but it’s like a physical effort to stay still, to wait. I feel my blood rushing through my veins, feel the crackle of electricity in the air around us.

I stand in his arms, letting the feeling of his presence, his power, wash over me. He pulls all of my strength out of me, inhaling it, making me dizzy.

When his hips press towards me, I wrap my fingers around his biceps to steady myself. Then suddenly his hands slide to my ass and pull me roughly against him, and I hear the startled gasp come from my mouth a second before I feel the pulsing heat travel from my cock out to the tips of my toes.

He grinds my body into his, his hands making my hips circle against him, pressing his hard cock into mine until I bite my lip to keep from moaning. Waves of pleasure ripple out through my body and I stop breathing.

My body tenses against him and I’m terrified that I’ll come in my pants right here on the street. My need moves from critical to overpowering, and even though this isn’t the orgasm I want, I know I won’t be able to stop it.

Then his hands are gripping my hips, holding me still as he arches his lower body away from me. I groan pitifully, the frustration pounding through me and out of my mouth.

“No! Brian, please…” I hear how desperate I sound, but I don’t care. “Please.” I scramble for his hips, trying to pull him closer again.

He smiles at me, stepping away but leading me by the hand. He opens the door and steers me by the shoulders ahead of him. As I pass him, he brushes his lips against my ear,

“Almost ready, Justin.” I close my eyes. “Not quite… but almost.” I shudder at the thought of what it will take for him to find me ready.

I hurry, heading for the stairs - I can’t wait for the elevator. When we get to the top, he presses me against the wall and kisses me. I melt into his mouth. Then he steps back and tells me to stay there. When I look at him questioningly, he puts a finger to my lips and simply says, “Wait.”

I watch him go through the door, shutting it behind him. I’m nervous now - I don’t want to wait out here. The seconds feel like hours but then he’s finally sliding the door open again, reaching for my hand.

I step inside the loft and my breath stops. The lights are off, but the whole room is filled with candles and every surface appears to flicker from the small flames. I look at him, my eyes welling. He smiles, letting me look around.

It’s the little things like this that make me love him more every day. The way he can twist my body around his finger and squeeze every drop of desire out of me, but still ravish my heart with the same care that he shows my body. It’s what makes us different now, older. Wiser.

Then his stare gets intense again, and I’m drawn back to his face. I see the flush in his skin, the arousal darkening his cheeks and his lips. I think about the silkiness of his skin, the taste of his sweat, the safety of his arms.

He steps towards me, circling me slowly. I close my eyes when he’s behind me, willing myself to stay still. I jump when his fingers touch my shoulder, trailing across my back.

“Show me, Justin.” His voice is smooth behind me and my brain races to figure out what he wants. I twitch when his fingers trail lower, following each bump of my spine until they rest at the waist of my pants.

“Show me your skin.” His face moves closer to mine, his lips at my ear. “Show me the heat there… the color.”

I moan softly as he licks my ear. My shaky hands move down to my waist, pushing my pants over my hips. I let them fall, my ass bare.

“Take the rest off.” His voice sounds far away behind me. I pull my shirt over my head and wait.

“Very nice, Justin.” I shiver at his words and my heart speeds up. Then his hands are on my back, his fingers tickling across my skin.

“So hot…”

I bite my lip as his fingers rub lower. He moves close to my ear again, “Do you know how much this turns me on?” I moan.

His hands leave my body and I shiver. I hear something behind me but I don’t know what it is. Then I hear his voice, heavy and low.

“Do you know how hot you are, waiting for me?” His voice slides over me like water. Hot water. “Giving yourself to me?”

My eyes fall shut when I hear his zipper.

“How badly I wanted to fuck you in the store?” He’s moving behind me, whispering. “At Michael’s?” My hands are clenched into fists from the effort not to move, not to turn around.

“How badly I want to fuck you right now?” His voice is throaty now, his breathing more rapid. Too rapid for him to be just standing there. I swallow heavily, straining to figure out what he’s doing by the small sounds I hear.

I moan when I hear the hitch in his breath, his soft grunt, the sound of his hand on his skin.

“Brian…” my voice is breaking. “Brian, please…” I shake from the frustration. He can’t come without me, without even touching me.

“So good, Justin,” his whisper shatters me, sends shards of need through me. “Feels so good,” he murmurs.

I start to beg.

“Brian, please. God, Brian… let me. Please.” I’m trembling from the effort. My cock throbs so badly it hurts. “No, Brian… don’t.”

He moans again and I whimper.

“So tight, Justin. Uh… god…”

I hear a chair squeak on the floor and it makes me jump. Then he’s behind me, the heat from his body radiating towards me.

“Bend over, Justin.” I snap forward, my hands reaching out in front of me. They land on the pillar, and I brace myself. I squeeze my eyes shut as I spread my legs for him. I’m going to come the second he fucks me. Oh god.

I hear his breathing increase, hear the sound of his hand on his cock. I grab the pillar, bending my knees for leverage. But he’s not touching me. Where is he?

“God, Justin.” His voice is so ragged I can’t breathe. “Oh… fuck.” He groans from deep in his chest and I don’t know what to do, don’t know why he isn’t inside me yet. He’s not going to make it and I want to cry.

“Brian, god… hurry! Please!”

He laughs as he moans, his hand connecting with my ass so hard it rocks me forward. Then he gasps and growls out his release, and I feel the first spurt of cum land on my lower back.

I moan as I realize he was never going to fuck me, but the heat of his orgasm carries us both and I groan as each pulse coats my ass. I feel it start to drip down onto my legs before he’s even stopped coming. My heart is pounding so hard I almost feel like I came too, but my rigid dick knows differently.

“So hot…” he whispers behind me, his finger spreading the pools of cum around my lower back. He flattens his hand and rubs it around, slicking my entire ass with it. It’s so raunchy I writhe under his hand, small moans coming from my mouth.

“Gonna get hotter,” he murmurs, and I realize he’s pulling his arm back. “Much hotter,” he promises as the first spank lands.

I cry out, the intense desire ricocheting through me like a pinball. I’m slammed into the pillar hard, and I hold onto it as tightly as I can.

Then he starts in earnest, the wetness of my skin making his hand stick slightly each time, making it pull at my skin the tiniest bit. My cock is pushing against the cold metal and I gasp each time his hand comes down. I press against the pole in front of me, trying get away from the slaps and rub my dick against something, anything, at the same time.

“Count, Justin,” he grits out, the effort audible in his voice.

It takes all my strength but I count each one, slowly. When we get to ten he increases the intensity and I want to beg him to stop. When we get closer to twenty, they get harder and slower, each sting radiating out across my skin before the next one follows. I feel like I’m going to collapse.

“Don’t fall, Justin, or we’ll start again,” he warns. I will my legs to keep going, not to crumple beneath me.

At twenty-one he pauses, his hips bumping into my ass as his hands hold me still. He’s naked and his cock is hard again as he rubs it across my ass. I shudder out a moan. He leans close to my face.

“Want me to fuck you, Justin?”

I moan, unable to answer coherently.

“Four more, Justin. If you make it, I’ll fuck you…” his voice drips over me, his cock brushing my sore skin. I nod repeatedly, my body barely grounded.

His hand comes down hard as he pulls away, and I cry out. “Count Justin,” he barks, “…or I’ll do the rest on your cock.”

I shiver violently at the thought, pushing my ass back towards him, giving him better access to me. I moan out each number as the slaps fall, each point of contact prickling out over my skin, traveling down my legs, up my back and across my belly.

The twenty-fifth takes my breath away and I fall to the floor in a heap at his feet. But his hands are on me immediately, pulling me up enough so he can scoop his arms under me and carry me. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries my throbbing body up the steps to the bed.

He climbs on top of me, his body pressing me into the mattress. When his cock touches my ass, he groans.

“Shit, Justin.” His hands start pulling my hips up, pushing my legs apart. I can’t move without his assistance. “So fucking hot…”

His cool fingers coat my hole quickly, the haste in his movements giving away his desire. I feel the head of his cock against me, then break into a million tiny pieces as he pushes inside me.

“Ah… god…” he drops onto my back, his cock moving inside me. His moan sounds like a plea, a prayer. I can’t even breathe as the pleasure smothers me, surrounds me, carries me under him. I’m coming before I can even open my mouth, the waves pounding me until I’m decimated from the impact.

He keeps moving, his own orgasm building so fast I can hear it coming. He’s moaning my name as he comes, the heat inside my body matching the heat of my skin, and he collapses on top of me, sealing himself to me.

We lay still, our chests heaving as we both come back to earth. He’s heavy on top of me but I don’t want him to move, don’t ever want him to go. He starts to peel his body away but I reach behind me, trying to stop him. He chuckles quietly and lays back down, his forehead resting on my neck. He keeps his weight on his arms so he won’t crush me, but he stays.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my back. I turn in his arms so I can watch his face, can touch it. He looks at me and I can see the once-over happening in his head. He runs his fingers through my hair and presses a soft kiss to my forehead once he’s decided I’m ok.

I stare at him, my body coming down even as my soul soars. He’s so regally beautiful it still takes my breath away, even after all these years. He’s older now, less youthfully perfect, but he’s mine, and he’s more beautiful than he’s ever been.

He nudges the side of my face with his nose, pushing the hair away from my ear. His whisper falls over me as I close my eyes,

“Happy 25th, Sunshine.”

I laugh as I snuggle into him, burrowing myself as close as I can as my arms slide around his body. I see the small wrapped box nestled amongst the candles on the night table, but there’ll be time for that later.

He closes his eyes and presses his lips against my eyelid, and I hear the smile in his voice. “Think you can handle it when we get to your 40th?” I laugh.

I pull my head back so I can touch him again, rubbing my thumb across his cheekbone, over his lip. He sighs contentedly, relaxation flickering across his features as he rolls onto his back. I kiss the tip of his nose, his eyelids, his ear.

When I inhale against his skin I feel a tingle building in my stomach. I know he’s tired, but I need him close still, need him in me and on me and around me. Need to be in him and on him and around him.

He opens one eye when my hand wanders down his belly. He laughs when he looks at me. I move a little closer, feeling my own cock stirring again. I’ve been too horny for too long to be done yet.

“How about we practice getting ready for your 40th instead? It’s closer.” My fingers scratch softly in his pubes, inching closer to his cock. He snorts quietly.

Suddenly I feel the need to get his attention, to take him somewhere tonight too. Not sure if it’s my gift to him, or to myself. I reach towards the night table.

“We could make good use of all these candles…” I murmur, picking one up and bringing it closer until it hovers over his body. He looks at me, his face showing me he doesn’t think I’d dare.

I watch in slow motion as I tip the candle. The wax drips onto his chest and runs between his pecs, hardening quickly.

The sound of his gasp and the jerk of his body send ribbons of heat from my cock to the top of my head. His eyes widen and his mouth curves as his hand grabs my wrist. Some of the wax is jostled and it spills onto my fingers, making me gasp too. Shit.

He squeezes my hand, shifting up onto the elbow of his other arm. His face is inches from mine, the candle held tightly in both of our hands.

“Don’t even go there, Justin.” His voice is liquid steel. My breath speeds up again.

“You wanna play like this?” he nods towards the candle.

“I’ll show you how to play, but you won’t like it.” He pauses. “Or maybe you will…” I lick my lips as I stare at him. His voice gets lower again, rumbling over my senses like a freight train.

“Want me to cover your cock with wax, Justin?” I bite my lip. “Let it drip, slowly, over every inch of your dick and your balls until you want to scream?” He’s smiling dangerously at me.

“Actually, no…” my voice sounds less sure than I want it to. I clear my throat, starting again.

“Not that it wouldn’t be fun,” I smile at his smirk, “but it’s my birthday and I had something else in mind.” That sounded better. I hope. I see his eyebrow go up. I watch the thoughts flick across his face as he studies me.

I feel an almost imperceptible shift in his hand covering mine, and then I realize he’s letting go. My mouth goes dry and my dick jumps.

I look carefully at him, and I see the same expression I saw years ago, when I told him I knew what rimming was. Well, not the exact same expression - this one is tinged with more respect, more openness. More equality. But it still challenges me, dares me, doubts me.

Only this time I won’t be confessing that I don’t know what to do.

Part 4

I look around the room, the flickering light casting waves of shadow across his smooth skin. The ribbon of cooled wax is surrounded by a faint redness, evidence of the effect on his skin when it landed. I will my dick to settle down as I shift on the bed, pushing him down onto his back again, his arm falling out to his side. He watches me, his blinks slow and even, and I think it makes me hotter than anything he’s done so far tonight.

I lean up onto my knees, swinging one leg over him and lowering myself down so I’m straddling his hips. His eyes flutter when my ass traps his cock between us, and I can feel it stretching and filling under me. I can’t help but rock a bit, encouraging it, which makes his mouth turn up a little at the corners. I smile at him.

“Put your arms out,” I motion with my head, careful not to spill the wax. The seconds before he responds stretch out slowly between us, but then he finally drags his arms up the bed so they’re straight out from his shoulders. He looks like a wanton angel, waiting for me.

“Higher,” I whisper. I can feel the buzz building in my body from getting him to respond to me, and it terrifies and excites me at the same time. It’s like walking on a tightrope.

He blinks once, then raises his arms and bends them, cupping his hands behind his head. It pushes his chest up a bit and I stare silently for a minute, memorizing his golden skin in my mind, watching as his nipples harden under my gaze.

I look into his eyes again, silently reading his challenge. I know he won’t tell me that I can do this, no matter how much has changed between us. I have to take it, to push him until he relents. He’ll let me take the lead - sometimes he’ll even make it clear he wants me to - but the fundamental dynamic of our relationship means he’s always the top, no matter whose dick is in whose ass. Or who’s holding the candle, as the case may be. So I do this carefully, knowing he may flip me over and fuck me senseless at any point. It’s part of the charm, actually.

The fingers of my right hand trail down the center of his chest, sweeping over the line of wax already there, its surface smooth under my fingertips. Holding the candle in my left hand, I look into his eyes, keeping him watching me as I tip the candle quickly again.

He hisses, his eyes blinking fast. I see a flush of colour starting in his neck.

I look down at his chest and the wax is hardening into a little line, closer to his nipple than the first one. I do it again, the drips dropping one by one now that I’ve used up all the melted wax. He flinches with each drop and the heat builds inside my stomach, curling itself around my waist, up my spine. I feel as though each drop burns me more than it burns him, and I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. I feel balanced precariously, this edge between building his desire and pushing him too far.

I hold onto the candle carefully as I lean down and capture his nipple in my mouth. It makes me moan when he arches into me, the muscles in his arms tensing. I lick his nipple slowly, pressing into the bud with my tongue, flicking it softly. He tastes like heat and sweat and desire. His cock twitches under me, the rest of his body tightly controlled. I inhale the scent of him, circling with my tongue one more time before I sit up.

I watch his face as I pour the newly melted wax where I’ve just licked. He jerks again and his eyes close, but he doesn’t say anything. I watch the wax become opaque and see the skin surrounding it pucker tighter. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth is open now. I rub the hardening wax with my finger, spreading it thinner. He breathes out slowly.

I shift lower on his body and he opens his eyes, watching me. I bite my lip as I look into his darkening eyes. I realize I’ve never asked him if he knows that his eyes turn a darker shade of green when he’s aroused. I can always tell how far gone he is by how dark they get. Right now they’re so dark the green has almost disappeared completely.

I trail some wax down the centre of his chest, the liquid rolling over itself and cascading down to his belly. He gasps and I see his hands clench on the back of his head. I do it again quickly and his body arches up off the bed. My cock drips on his leg as my head swims. Something about him writhing, moving his body this way - whether in pleasure or pain, I don’t know if I care right now - floods me with a rush so strong I have to moan.

I keep moving, scrambling lower, straddling his knees. His hands come from behind his head, getting close enough to stop me, but I soothe him with long, soft strokes down his chest and he relaxes - a little.

He groans when I lean up and take his other nipple into my mouth. I lick lower, trying to keep the candle level so it doesn’t spill on him but when he flinches I look up and realize I’ve tipped it accidentally. His hands are both at his sides now, his fingers curled into fists. Easy, Justin. Don’t blow this.

I position myself so I can reach his cock and he watches me, knowing what I’m doing, his eyes lidded and wary. He’s breathtaking. I have to stop for a moment, letting the lines of his body, the tight curl of his fingers, the sound of his breath burn into my memory; to be stored along with a million other erotic images of him, of us, of our life together.

I reach over to the night table, setting the candle back in its holder. He keeps watching me, his face registering a trace of surprise that I’m stopping. For now. I smile at him, letting him think I’m done. I feel him breathe more deeply, some of the tension leaving his body.

He lets out a breathy grunt as my mouth closes over the head of his cock, his hands coming to the back of my head gently. His dick is so hard, so perfectly smooth in my mouth that I suck it hungrily, hollowing my cheeks to pull it deeper. I’m rewarded with a low moan, his hands kneading my head softly. I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of the taste of him, the feel of this. I doubt it.

I suck him skillfully, knowing exactly what he likes. I feel his hips start to lift off the bed, his need growing in the tightening of his muscles, the sound of his breathing. My hands wander up his body, skimming his chest, tweaking his nipple. He grunts again, his fingers pressing harder into the back of my head.

My fingers find the line of wax beside his other nipple, and I suck softly as my fingernail finds the edge of it. His moan starts as I pull slowly, turning into a gasp as the wax peels away from his skin. I pull off his dick, looking up at him. He lifts his head to look down at me, his eyes almost black.

I reach my tongue out to the tip of his leaking cock as I find the edge of the next piece of wax – the one resting directly on top of his nipple. We’re still staring at each other, and his eyes narrow with anticipation, challenging me again. I lick his cock as I pull, the slow lift of the wax making his nipple into a hard pebble, the tiny buds around it stiffening into small peaks. I yank suddenly, pulling the rest off fast. He jerks, his cock jumping underneath my tongue, his moan echoing in my ears.

I know I’ve taken a little hair with the wax, but I know he’ll live. I climb up his body, my mouth finding the sensitive skin I’ve just exposed. He groans as I lick his nipple slowly, lapping it softly until the hard nub beckons and I flick it with my tongue before biting down.

“Fuck! Justin…”

His voice is rough and the sound prickles up the back of my neck. I can feel his cock pulsing under me as I suck his nipple hard, his hands pressing into my lower back, pushing me into him. I line our cocks up and circle my hips, his hands holding me, guiding me. We’re both wet and hard and I want to stay like this forever.

I climb higher, my mouth finding his and he kisses me back aggressively. I lose myself in the kiss for a minute, my moans mixing with his and the feel of his body under me making me dizzy. I pull away, catching my breath. His lips are swollen and his eyes are so hungry I can’t look away.

“Turn over.” I whisper.

He just looks at me, gauging what I’m going to do. He shakes his head slightly. I kiss him softly, nuzzling his face with my nose. I say it again.

“Please, Brian. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do…,” I promise. I roll off him, my hands trailing down his smooth body, stopping at his wrist and pulling him towards me. He complies, slowly, his dark eyes staring at me as he rolls onto his stomach. He settles his arms under the pillow, his head facing me, watching to be sure he knows what I’m doing.

I breathe deeply as I run my fingers over his spine, the curve of his ass, the muscles of his thigh. I litter kisses down his back, my hair tickling him as I move my face from spot to spot.

I reach for the candle again, his eyes on me. I lift the candle over his back and when he can’t see it anymore he closes his eyes. I’m not sure if it’s submission, or concentration, or something else entirely, but it makes my dick ache. The twitch of his body when the wax lands makes me hold my breath, everything going into slow motion as I trail it lower on his back, the deepening arch of his spine the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I move between his legs, pushing them apart with my knees. His muscles are tense, tight, and he doesn’t part his legs easily, but I don’t give up easily either. When he relents, I kiss the inside of his thigh, his breath speeding up as I move closer to his ass. I can’t decide between dropping the wax and kissing him, so I do both. I paint a circle of wax drops around his lower back as I mimic the motion with my tongue, licking a wide circle across both cheeks, over the top of his thighs. As the wax falls, his back arches and his ass pushes higher, which I know he hates, but he can’t stop.

I keep circling with my tongue, making each circle smaller and smaller until I’m so close that I know he can practically feel it. I keep doing it, letting his arching back open him for me, my knees pushing against his thighs to spread his legs wider. He fights it, his legs pressing against mine hard, trying to keep his body from splaying this way for me.

I stop licking, his displeased grunt bringing a smile to my face. I feel the power rush through me, the desire to make him mindless with pleasure so strong I pause to let it flood me. God, I know why he loves to dominate me, it’s such a rush.

I slide one hand under his body, brushing my thumb across his perineum as I cup his balls. He lifts for me, giving me better access, and I roll them in my hand, squeezing and tugging gently. I know he loves it, as much as he hates being this exposed, this vulnerable to me. But with this many years of making love to him, sometimes I can play my cards right, can bring out the hedonist in him over the protective instinct, and he picks pleasure over invulnerability, even against his better judgment.

Strangely, it often works after he’s dominated me – something about me letting him take such control, giving him the gift of my submission, makes him feel safer. It’s the emotional intimacy of playing this way that binds us, connects us on a deeper level than regular sex. The challenge is being able to pull myself out of subspace so that I can take advantage of the opportunity. I can never do it if we’ve played intensely, I’m way too far gone. But when we’ve played like tonight, where my submission wasn’t as deep – these are the times I can often turn the tables and sneak up on him. He’s usually coming in my hand before he even realizes we’ve gone this far.

I turn my attention back to his body, and smile when he grunts at my tug on his balls. I love the noises he makes in bed. The longer we’ve been together, the freer he has been about voicing his pleasure, and I revel in every noise I coax out of him.

I look back at the candle, a large pool of wax brimming at the top. I fondle his balls softly as I tip it, holding it high so the wax that hits his skin won’t be as hot. He jerks hard, his gasp loud and raw as the wax lands right above the crack of ass, small ribbons of it rolling down into his lower back.

“Justin…” he warns, his voice muffled by the pillow. He lifts his head, starting to turn over. I push him down with my hand.

“Shhh,” I soothe, my hand rubbing his ass. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

“You’d better fucking not.”

I smile at his warning as he settles back down. I won’t hurt him, I’m not stupid. But I can play with the sensations, swing him between them as I wind him higher.

“So hot, Brian.” I push my knees a little wider, leaning down to kiss his back. He grunts noncommittally as I move my hand back to his balls, sliding under him to the base of his cock. It turns into a soft moan as I slide up the shaft, slicking him with his own wetness.

I balance the candle carefully as I lean my head lower, my tongue reaching as far between his legs as I can go, sliding up slowly. I see his head roll to the side, hear his breathing increase. I do it again, my long swath filling me with his taste, his scent. I’m seriously fucking horny now. I resist the urge to bury my face. He’s going to come to me, not the other way around.

I keep licking, one hand fondling his balls as the other holds the candle steady. When I let the wax fall again, his curse makes me smile as his ass pushes into me. It brings my tongue into contact with his hole for a brief second and I hear his moan. I don’t follow him when his hips lower down, which means my tongue is more on the outside of his crack than the inside. I can hear the frustration in his breath, but he stays where he is.

We do it again, and his hips stay raised for a second longer, my tongue slicking his hole slowly. I think it’s me that moans this time. Come on, Brian, give it to me, please…

I let go of his balls, the strain from balancing too much for me to continue. And I want to be sure the wax only falls when and where I want it to. I brace myself on my elbow between his legs, sliding my body so I’m laying between them. It makes my dick brush the bed, which reminds me how hard I am. I can’t resist grinding into the soft sheets for a minute, the pleasure from the friction so sweet it makes my eyes water. I’m not sure if Brian’s up for me fucking him tonight, but the thought of his tight ass clenching down on me is so intoxicating I moan.

Keeping my face where it is, I lower the candle to his ass. I drip one small drop on his cheek and he hisses. It becomes a moan as I lick him deeper, pushing my tongue harder. I drip another at the very top of his thigh and he swears. I know this skin is so sensitive I have to be careful not to burn him, not to mention that I’m going to pull all the hair off his leg when I remove it. I move back to his ass, higher this time, dropping it right at his tailbone. He arches into my mouth, but this time he doesn’t move. I lap him hungrily, my wet mouth sucking at his skin, my saliva running down his crack. He finally lets go, his hips pushing up hard and his legs spreading wider. I bury myself, stopping only long enough to blow out the candle and dump the remaining wax on his arched back. Then I use both hands to pull him wide, diving in like a drowning man. I fuck him with my tongue, his hole quivering around me. I spear him again, wiggling my tongue inside him as deeply as I can, needing his taste all over me, inside me.

I don’t notice his hands moving, but then he’s pulling his knees up, shifting his weight onto his arms. I follow him, my hands holding his ass as I suck at him, nibble him. He’s groaning, his shifted position giving him more leverage, which he uses to push into me hard. I push back, my face pressed tight against him. I can’t get close enough. I have to touch him, so my hands wander over his ass, onto his back. I feel all the hardened wax and I start pulling, scraping bits off with my fingers. It’s like suction cups on his skin and he jerks a bit as each one pulls off, my hands tossing them onto the bed as my tongue keeps fucking him. My stubble scrapes his skin and I know he’ll be red, but I can’t stop grinding my face deeper into him.

I pull up for air, my chest heaving. His movements still when I pull away, but I run my hands back over his ass, my thumbs rubbing his crack. He’s soaking wet and it makes me so hard, and before I can even think I’m rolling a condom on and slicking my cock. He hasn’t moved, his head buried in his arms and his ass raised right in front of me. I rub him once more with my thumb and then position my cock against the wetness, pushing forward.

We both groan as I push into him, and I know I should go slower and give him time to adjust but I can’t, so I breach him in one long push. It probably hurts him, but I move out slowly and start the in-stroke smoothly. The heat on my dick is so intense I bite my lip and force myself not to ram him, but when I hear his relaxing breath on the third stroke I can’t help it anymore. I hold his hips as I slam forward, my hips snapping into him with their own rhythm. He grunts from the impact, but he meets my thrusts with his own, and then we’re gone, the force of the fuck taking over and carrying us away with it.

I lean up, my hands wandering his body as I fuck him hard, yanking the remaining bits of wax off his skin. I scratch my nails down his back, raking over the sensitive skin, needing to mark him as I fuck him. My sweat falls onto his back, and I lean forward to bite his shoulder. I suck the skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder and the shudder of his body makes me groan. I’m not going to last, so I reach under him, my hand closing over his cock. It’s hot and wet and feels like it could burst, so I stroke him quickly, my thumb pressing under the head and eliciting a moan. I know he’s going to come, so I speed up my hand, bringing him to the end before I fall off the cliff.

He groans as he comes in my hand, hot spurts soaking the bed and my fingers. I keep pumping him as he empties, my own balls lifting and tightening as I feel my orgasm speeding up on me. I cry out his name as the pleasure pushes me over the edge, black spots flashing behind my eyes from squeezing them so tightly shut.

I collapse on his back, my heart pounding in my ears. I’m not sure if I survived it, but what a way to go…

I feel him shift under me, so I roll off him. We lay on the bed, spent, for a few minutes in silence, only the flickering light of the candles in the room. I curl over to him, my hand running down his chest, my face close to his ear.

“So do I get to open my present now?”

He laughs.

“You just did.”

I swat him as I laugh. “As fine as your ass is, there’s no way that’s my birthday present. And you know it.” I look over at the small box, the grosgrain ribbon shining in the candlelight.

He opens his eyes and looks at me, his arm coming around my shoulders. He presses his warm lips into my ear.

“First we’re going to have a shower.” I shudder as he licks my ear. “Then you’re going to rub my favorite massage oil into my skin to make sure there are no marks left from your little foray into wax play.” I smile.

“Then since you’ll be horny - ”

I look at him, shaking my head. “Hey, what makes you think I’ll be horny!”

He just looks at me, grinning softly. “It’s the massage oil you really like. The one that smells like rosemary and mint.” He looks down at his body. I laugh. He’s right.

“So, since you’ll be horny, I’ll blow the birthday boy. Then you can open your present.”

I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my arm around his chest. “Sounds like a perfect birthday to me.”

End