BRIAN'S POV

"If you find the key within ten minutes, you can fuck me.  It's that simple," you offer.  Justin snorts, "Nothing is ever that simple with you," from across the room where he's found the box his device came in.  In the meantime, you have to free yourself from your own cuffs, filled with glee that your cigarettes are waiting quite patiently for you on a night table.  The smoke swirls above your head while you observe his desperate search.  "Not in the box, huh?" you question him after seeing him toss it back on the floor.  Truthfully, it's fine with you if it takes him awhile to find it.  Your body is about to sue you for a very overdue nap--punitive damages and all.  The halved Viagra pill you took before you left the office is working nicely but it's not the fountain of youth.  Eight minutes into his search and he's uber-frustrated.  He comes back to the bed, kneels down in front of your reclining posture and sweetly begs you to give him a hint.  "No," you say with a smile.  He announces that he's calling off the search, arms folded in expected defiance.  His ire always travels straight to your cock, and you can feel it cruising in that direction once again.  You instruct him to, "Go turn off the overhead light please and dial the fireplace down.  It feels like a sweat lodge in here."

"Please," he says, an ill-timed linguistic request.

"Just do it."

"Lie down," you tell him when he returns to the bed. The dungeon is almost completely dark now save the barely there glow from the fire. Justin flops back on his back, eyes locked on the black wrought iron canopy above your bed.  You abandon your cigarette and turn your attention to unfolding his arms which he's making as difficult as he possibly can.  "I'll gladly cuff you to this bed if you're going to be this obstinate," you advise him, so he relaxes and complies.

.....

A humid silence drapes the entire room as you look at him; your nose touching his for a second before you kiss him.  "That was, like, the best kiss ever," he says with a smile.

"You want another?"

"I want about a hundred," he admits.

"Your honesty is making me hard, and that's quite a feat since my dick is currently on life support."

"Yours?" he asks, "At least it's not in a straight-jacket."

"I'm sorry; that was inconsiderate," you tease, your skin sealing with his.  You tell him your secret, that you took half a Viagra before you left work, and his reaction surprises you, "You did?  That was so sweet, Brian."  (For a minute, you have to wonder if he's working an angle here..., but no, he's serious.)  He continues, "You love me quite desperately, don't you?"

"Especially when you talk like Jane Austen."

"Okay, wait, is this why you locked me up?  To even the playing field?"

"I should spank you for that, you little smart ass."

"I think I'm being punished enough, jeesh."

You're ready to turn this conversation into something a little more intimate, so you tell him with your lips a few centimeters from his, "You want to talk about why your cock is on lock down?  It's a long, long story..."

"I'm listening."

Your mouth skims up his face, stopping at his hairline, blond strands soft on your lips, "It starts up here with your beautifully and religiously lightened blond hair."

"You like it?  I went yesterday, got a pedicure, too. Feel how soft my feet are."  He rubs his feet against your calf, offering proof of his salonic endeavors.

"Yes, well, that chapter is at the end of the story.  Right now, we're still on the beginning."