JUSTIN'S POV

Should you tell him that sometimes you want to tie him down just to get him to slow down?  He'd laugh if you did.  Instead, you ask him if he's had a busy week (present company excluded), and he nods and says yes, that he has four accounts that are about to pop.  You talk about them for a few minutes, giving him plenty of time to really relax and not worry about what comes next.  You tell him that he's beautiful, and he licks his lips and whispers, 'C'mere,' because he wants to kiss you, so you let him.

Often when you're across Brian's lap or on all fours just before a fuck, you want to stop time and tell him what it really feels like to be at his mercy, so tonight, you tell him once you've asked him to get in that position for you.  "There's plenty of slack on your ankles," you say, "Pull your knees in."  He does what you ask, closing his eyes when you start talking to him again, kneeling next to his form, your finger trailing down his spine. "I like when you want me in this position," you tell him, "It does something to me, being vulnerable like this for you."  He moans as your hand glides over his ass and down the back of his thigh.  You want to recreate that experience for him, see what it conjures up inside him.  Moving so you're behind him now, you push his legs further apart, your fingers forming a 'v' and spreading him apart a little.  When he feels your tongue, you hear him whisper, "Oh god."  His lips fall open and stay that way, accommodating his heavy breath.  You move again, back beside him, and talk to him about the light show you're privy to every time he spanks you, "It's like a psychedelic art show behind my eyelids.  Would you like to see it?"  Instead of giving you a verbal answer, his fingers curl into fists, pulling the sheets with them.

Impact begins.

You spoil him like he spoils you, caressing his ass before you slap, letting the heat and the pain build so slowly that it's agonizing.  "Keep your eyes closed," you remind him because they tend to pop open with impact.  "It's something you have to practice," you tell him, "You have to get to a very trusting place."  You rub his back with your free hand, gently pressing his chest further into the mattress.  Soon, instead of bracing for the pain, he's anticipating the pleasure that bleeds beneath his skin right after.  You reach between his legs, your hot hand touching his balls, his cock.  He's hard, and you feel like your touch surprises him; a moan flows out of every pore in his skin, deep and unregulated.