JUSTIN’S POV
Brian gives you a curious smile when you get up off the sofa and reach for his hand, “Come with me, okay?” Still grinning a little, he nods and accepts your hand, shutting lights off behind you as you head to your bedroom. “Look,” you say, “We can talk…if we both talk.”
“Where?” he asks.
“Let’s just sit on the bed like this,” and you fold your legs like a pretzel and indicate for Brian to do the same. Soon he’s facing you in the same position, your feet barely touching.
“Are we meditating?” he asks.
“Kind of. I know the conversation you want to have,” you explain, “But I need something a little different. Hold my hand.” You demonstrate that you want to hold hands on your knees, with each of you getting one upper hand. “It’s equal now.”
“Equal,” Brian reiterates. “Ohmmmm.”
“Don’t make jokes.” You squeeze his hand affectionately so he squeezes yours. “I was thinking that you can start. You can ask a question and I can either answer it or kiss you and same for you.”
“How about answer it or blow me?”
“No. Be serious. You can go first, okay?”
~+~+~+~+~+~+
BRIAN’S POV
Something’s gotten into him, but it’s nice sitting in the semi-darkness. You have questions you want answers to, so you decide to dive right in, “Okay. First question, do you still want to be spanked every day?”
He answers without hesitation, “Yes. Do you still want to do it?”
“Yes, what’s more important to you—the pain and the pleasure or the humiliating aspect of it?”
“Pass,” he says, and then he leans forward to kiss you; it’s soft and sweet and lasts a few seconds.
“Okay, if you pass, then I get to keep asking.”
He sighs, “Fine. Go.”
“Do you trust that I will always keep you safe?”
“Yes, completely.” That makes you feel good. “My turn. What goes through your mind when I’m across you lap?” Justin asks.
The process feels a little like an emotional firing range, but he’s talking so you have to keep firing. You sit up a little straighter as if it helps you think or something, “Well, a lot of things, but mostly this euphoric sensation tied to pleasing you. When you…present yourself to me like that…I get this rush inside me. It’s almost like I experience the ecstasy first and then it flows from me to you. How often do you fantasize about being there?”
“Everyday,” he admits, “Do you think there’s something weird about me that I want it all the time?”
“Sometimes, I think you have ‘daddy issues.’ But hell, who doesn’t?”
“That’s a rhetorical question,” Justin points out ignoring your declaration. “Try another one.”
“Um, okay. Were you hoping to be spanked to be spanked tonight?”
Justin smiles at you, “Is the sky blue?”
You laugh supposing that one rhetorical question deserved another. "Look, you have those pin-prick bruises all over your ass and legs and the cane left welts. You need a night off. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“My mind does; my body doesn’t.”
His words hover in the air between you and somehow both of you just know that the game is over. You lean forward, put your hand on his face and pull him into a kiss that you have no intention of ending.
~+~+~+~+~+~+
Your bodies unwind and shift from sitting to lying down, and he’s halfway underneath you; the resulting make out session forcing ancient feelings to fight their way to the surface. Justin has this way of making you forget how much older you are now, a way you’re addicted to. But there are realities surfacing as well—mainly two. One, that like or not his body needs a break from pain and intrusion and two, that your dick needs a crash cart and an over-written tragic scene from ER to bring it back from the dead. And you can feel that he wants to fuck and his hand is creeping down to the waist band of your jeans. It breaks your heart but you stop it, whispering, ”I can’t tonight. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he says and he means it, “But I can still touch you, can’t I?”
“Yeah,” you admit feeling kind of stupid, but he catches on to that, too and admonishes you, “Will you stop, please? You think I expect things that I don’t.”
“It’s not that; I just want to be inside you.”
His voice is quiet and sweet, “I know you do, but a little anticipation never hurt either of us,” and then he grabs you hard and kisses you. You end up grinding against him anyway. “You little twat,” you tease him.
He tugs at your shirt, helping you get it off, and then he’s kissing your chest. You look down and play with his hair, and you don’t stop him when he makes it down your torso to the button on your pants. It pops free with little effort, and he somehow gets you on your back. There was a time when you’d be mortified for him to see you half-hard, much less touching you, but if he has to trust you, then you have to trust him. Yet, your clothes keep coming off and his don’t.
~+~+~+~+~+~+
JUSTIN’S POV
You can tell how much he wants you; you can hear it when he moans or sighs in frustration, and when you run your lips across his cock, he lets the word, “Fuck,” escape and float away. You know that this is when he’s exactly like you--when his desire and fear get all tangled up. You proceed with caution, “Brian, I’ll stop if you don’t like this.” He doesn’t respond so you try again, “I’m serious. It’s your body.”
“Don’t,” he says.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t stop.”
He pulls on your hair when you take him in your mouth, and his hips begin to move almost fucking your face. And then he takes charge a little, pulling your mouth off his cock and pushing it down to his balls. With ample help from him, you move so you’re between his legs, and he strokes himself as you lick him. His free hand yanks on the back of your sweater; he wants to feel skin against skin, so you stop to discard it for him. His legs wrap around your torso, holding you down, and you hear the sheets sliding and, “Sunshine,” over and over. His hands are strangling the rungs in your headboard when your lips move to kiss the inside of his leg and a desperate sound comes out of him continues when you ask him to, “Roll over, okay?”
“Think about me across your lap,” you say as you begin to rim him. “About how badly I want to be there, to please you—“
“Christ.”
“About me coming all over your legs—“
“God.”
“Without permission.”
He kicks the mattress a couple times, and you unzip your pants, pulling them down just enough to free your dick. You press, trying to get inside him and that’s all it takes, “Oh my god…fuck…I’m sorry.”
“You just splooged all over me, didn’t you?” Brian asks.
“It’s your fault for being so fucking tight.”
“This is why we use lube,” Brian suggests.
“Um, yeah. I know that. There’s been at least a pint of it inside me since I was a teenager.”
“Talk about tight,” he teases you.
You fuss with your pants to get them all the way off and then clean him up, smiling at the happy expression on his face. “You’re the one who said that everything doesn’t have to be perfect every time.”
“Man, was I ever right about that.”
You smack him on the butt.
~+~+~+~+~+~+
BRIAN’S POV
Soon the two of you are lying in bed talking and Justin asks you, “When you talked to your doctor the other day, what did he say about…you know….” He’s referring to the debate you’ve been having with yourself about erectile dysfunction meds. “Well,” you respond, “He asked me how many times a month I have intercourse and when I told him that was way too much math, that it was at least twice a day, and he laughed at me.”
“Laughed?”
“Yeah, he seems to think that being cancer free and fucking twice a day isn’t anything to complain about.”
“Well, he’s kind of right,” Justin says.
“So, then, I had to tell him that I don’t like limits.”
“And he told you ‘tough shit,’ right?”
“Pretty much. I got some samples off him, though.”
“So that’s what you took?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it feel like?” he asks you.
“You can take some and try it,” you offer.
“Oh god, no. I’m a bottom who gets in trouble for jerking off too much. I’ll just get punished even more.”
You lean in and kiss his cheek, “Which is why I completely expect you to try it anyway.”
“No, I’m really going to try to be more obedient,” he says with such sincerity that you bust out laughing.
~+~+~+~+~+~+
JUSTIN’S POV
You figure if Brian keeps laughing at you, you’ll offer to take his dick out to the garage, get the jumper cables out and try to restart it for him, but he catches the expression on your face and stops himself. “Are you tired?” you ask him, and he shakes his head ‘no’ so you suggest something to him by just taking his hand and pushing it down between your legs and whispering, “You can shave me tonight if you want.”
“I was planning on doing that in the morning,” he counters.
“What if we’re busy doing something else in the morning?”
He leans over and kisses you behind your ear, “Okay. Get the lights. I’ll get the stuff.”
……
You don’t know that night how much of a ritual this will become for the two of you, how it will signify that the modified D/s relationship developing between you thrives best during the simplest of tasks. It becomes a quiet time where you can re-establish your commitment to him and this cagey dance you enjoy. You lie very still, just staring at his face while he works; you move only when he requests that you do. “I do nice work,” he compliments himself when he’s done, patting you dry with a towel.
Later when the lights are off again, he gets back into bed and pulls you against him in one motion, your back pressed into his chest. “I love the smell of shaving cream,” you say in the dark.
“Me, too.” And then he’s touching his recent handiwork, whispering in your ear about how much shaving you bare turns him on.
……
“Brian?” you ask.
“Hmmm?”
“I know when we had that talk tonight…that we didn’t exactly get to what you wanted to discuss…about my limits and all.”
“It’s okay; don’t worry about it.”
“It’s just that we have this agreement, you know? You get to make the rules and I get to break them because I don’t even know what they are. If I don’t get to know the rules, then you shouldn’t know all the answers. It’s what makes this work, don’t you think?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“You don’t have to agree with me. I mean, your point of view is as valid as mine.”
“Justin,” he says with his chin resting on your shoulder, “It’s okay. Sometimes what you don’t say reveals the answer,” and then he kisses your neck.
“Sometimes I think I don’t even know what my own limits are, and that’s hardly fair to you, but I don’t know what to do if I don’t know, you know?”
……
……
“Brian?”
……
“Brian, are you asleep?”
“Hmm? …Love you…too.”
You lie in his arms as his body grows heavy with sleep all around you. He snores softly right behind your ear.