The Last Gentle Thing

His eyes are dark. His frustration shows in his furrowed brows and the firmness with which his mouth is closed. I reach out and cup my hand over his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry, love," I say. He seems startled by the sound of my voice.

"It's not your fault," he says.

He sighs at the screen in front of him, shutting his laptop and moving it from the bed to the floor.

"I know," I reply in a gentle voice. "It feels a lot like it's out of your control, huh?" He nods, massaging his temples with his slender fingers.

"Yeah, all I can do is wait and see," he says.

I curl up next to him on our bed, wrap an arm around him, then lift his chin with my other hand, looking him in the eye. There is heat between us, so much that I know he feels it too.

"I can think of something that could be under your control," I say in a lilting voice. I smile, lifting an eyebrow suggestively.

"And what could that be?" he asks, playing along. But I am already kissing him, hands on his face, pressing into his body with mine. And he is kissing me back, his mouth and his hands a silent, "Hell yes," as they reach for my waist and pull me toward him.

We're chest to chest. His mouth is hot on mine and his tongue slides into my mouth, sending a bolt of electricity straight into my jeans. When I try to push him backward onto our bed, his arms fly out to catch mine and my arms go limp at his touch. He pushes me instead, enough force to leave me breathless but enough care to ensure that I have a pillow beneath my head.

He lays on top of me, face inches from mine. I kiss him, hard. "Please tell me that's the last gentle thing you'll do until I say so," I say, and he grins.

"I can do that." He places his fully weight on me and on his knees, grasping for my wrists and planting my arms on the bed. I gasp. He trails kisses in a line down my ear and my throat. And then gentle nibbles. And then full on bites. I lean my head back and forget to breathe momentarily, until he kisses me on the mouth again, more tongue and more force than before, and then pushes himself into a sitting position.

For a split second all I can think is, "Come back." But then I realize what he's doing. The restraints are already underneath the mattress. All he needs to do is tie them around my limbs as he chooses. My stomach does a flip in anticipation. First he ties my arms at the wrist, spread toward the top corners of the mattress. Then he moves downward, kissing my stomach, my hips, my pubic mound, pulling my pants and boxers down my thighs and moving lower and lower. He takes my pants and boxers off completely, flinging them to the ground, then uses the restraints to pin my ankles to opposite sides of the bed.

I am spread so far, I can hardly bend my knees or shift on the mattress. When I realize this, a burst of adrenaline hits me, and I struggle against the restraints, delighted at the prospect of him doing whatever he wants with me. He leans over me on his knees, in the space between my legs, purposefully not touching me. He trails his hand along the inside of my thigh and I whimper softly. I want him to fuck me, but I want even more for him to dominate me.

"Fuck," I moan as he penetrates my front hole with one finger. I am so hot for him, I can hardly feel just one finger. I can see he knows it by the way he smiles when our eyes lock. With his free hand, he pulls up my shirt and leaves a trail of wet kisses from my pubic hair to the bottom of my chest. He continues fucking me with one finger, and I continue to feel more and more frustrated by it, while he pushes my shirt up farther using his teeth and then closes his mouth around my nipple, sucking and biting at the pink tissue and along the sensitive line of skin below my chest.

"More please," I say, crying out a little louder than I intended. He pulls out, removes his lips from my skin.

"I think you're forgetting the rules," he says, grinning. I'm not, I just enjoy breaking them. If I tell him what to do while he's topping like this, it's his turn to get off first, and I have to give however he wants me to. As he yanks the jeans down from his waist, his jocks following, my eyes trace the lines of his sharp hips, the soft brown fuzz over his crotch and legs.

My mouth begins to water when he kicks his jeans away and moves to the top of the bed to straddle my face. His T-dick is hard. "Suck me off," he says, leaning against the wall with both arms.

I lean into his crotch, and he lowers himself onto my face, wetness dripping down my chin. I take him in my mouth and use my lips and tongue to suck on his clit once, hard. He makes a low groaning noise from above me. I suck again and flick my tongue, moving my head in and out as much as I can from against the mattress. We fall into a rhythm, and I listen as his breathing becomes more shallow, knowing he's getting close.

His hands are in my hair, pulling hard, pushing me into him, and my clit twitches. He is rocking into me, grinding against my face. My teeth are digging into my upper lip, and my neck muscles are beginning to ache, but I ignore both. He's moaning, his face screwed up in desire. He's moving his hips forward and back purposefully now. I continue sucking while he fucks my face, trying to keep the same speed and pressure. But almost as soon as I think this, he's losing control, leaning harder onto my mouth and coming, his body shaking, ejaculating onto my mouth and chin.

He collapses for a moment, abandoning the dom persona to lay on top of me panting, press his body into mine lovingly, wipe the wetness off my face and kiss me slowly. I want to reach out and hold him, but I'm a little helpless. "Fuck," he says, breathless and shaky. He kisses me again and smiles down at me. I grin back. "Now it's your turn," he says.

He switches back into top mode in an instant, reaching over the side of the bed for the lube and a condom. "I'm going to finger you in the butt," he says, "And suck you off back at the same time." His eyes meet mine. He's checking for consent. I am always allowed to refuse or rescind, but otherwise it's his job to tell me, to lead the show. I close my eyes and smile, and he knows I've said yes without saying a word.

He fits his hand into the condom, sticking two fingers out to start, and coats the fingers with a squirt of lube. I am ready, so ready. He holds himself up with his free arm, steadying himself on the bed, and teases the outside of my hole with his finger. The anticipation builds as he continues to massage the outside, almost reaching a breaking point, but just when I am seeing white he pushes his fingers into my hole without warning, and I cry out, seeing a color even brighter.

At first, it's tight, but as he fucks me my muscles begin to relax, and when he senses this he adds a third finger. I moan again, struggling hard against my restraints. I want to put my hands on his head, tangle them in his hair, shove his mouth against my clit. Instead I focus on the gentle in and out of his three fingers, the faint tickle against my muscle wall, the look of concentration on his beautiful face.

"Hard enough?" he asks. He's joking. We both know this is soft and just the start. I giggle, and mid-giggle he adds a fourth finger, sending stars into my line of vision. I gasp as he begins to fuck me harder. Every movement of his wrist sends so much pleasure and -- as he begins to scratch his free hand down my hips and legs, grabbing the insides of my thighs hard enough to leave a bruise – pain.

I rock my hips as much as I can from within the bounds of my restraints, bring myself down harder on his hand and releasing a giant moan. He keeps fucking me, only pausing momentarily to get down low, teasing my clit softly with his tongue and continuing to penetrate me. I close my eyes, unable to breathe or even groan as he closes his mouth around the shaft of my T-dick and begins to tug and suck with his lips and tongue.

I'm bucking my hips too much for his liking. I realize because he presses his hand into my stomach and my side, holding me down on the mattress. I make a noise in my throat and jerk my hips again involuntarily.

"Keep your hips on the bed," he says, taking a break from giving me head. "And do you need anything?"

I almost shake my head no, but then I realize. I want him to choke me. "If you wanted to," I say, almost sounding shy, "you could choke me a little." I blush. It's not a direct command, so I've avoided being "punished" again.

"Okay," he says, grinning up at me from between my legs. My heart catches in my throat. We don't do real breath play – the really dangerous stuff – but we sure do simulate it well.

"Is this okay?" he asks, using his thumb and forefinger to cup my chin and force it back.

"Yes," I say. Without thinking about it consciously, I hold my breath a little.

"Good." Without another word he begins making his descent back to my legs, not having even removed his fingers from inside of me. He begins fucking me again, and without as much oxygen, I'm seeing even more stars. When he begins to suck me off again as well, I nearly lose it. My dick as erect as it's ever been, throbbing in his warm mouth. I fight to keep from responding with my hips, lest he stop or change what he's doing.

All I can feel is his hand tight at my throat, the restraints against my arms and ankles, the bedsheets wrinkled and soaked with sweat beneath me, his fingers inside of me, filling me and his mouth encircling me, moving in and out quickly now. I feel as if I've entered an alternate universe where pleasure and pain have greater magnitude. It feels so good, I don't know if I can cum.

"I'm gonna add my last finger," he tells me. He can feel my muscles are loose enough now. I spread my legs a little farther to indicate my approval. The fullness of his fingers leave my hole, and I hear the sound of him applying another round of lube to the condom. When he begins to slide his hand into me again, it's cold, but that doesn't bother me. I'm opening for him. It's been so long since this happened.

"Just keep breathing, he says. You're doing a good job relaxing." I realize when he speaks that I have been relaxing my muscles with breathing techniques. I guess it's become sort of automatic at this point. But what isn't perfunctory is the incredible fullness of his whole hand inside of me. He is slow and careful as he pushes into me, but he doesn't need to be. In what seems like mere seconds, he's in, and I let out a low, growling moan, my face contorting. And as soon as he's sure he's not hurting me, he stops being so gentle and slow.

He makes a fist inside of me and moves his arm in and out, starting at a medium speed. I moan uncontrollably, pressing my hips forward in desperation. I need him to touch my clit again.

"I'll finger you," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice. "In a minute." And with that, he begins to fist me harder, using more of an in-and-out motion. The penetration is sweet and full and leaves me unable to form words or thoughts for a few moments. I am so on edge, I think if the draft blows the right way I'll orgasm for an hour. I know he can tell, but he isn't done with me yet.

He pushes in deeper. He is so far inside of me, I swear it's deeper than he has ever been before. "Fuck," I moan. He doesn't stop fucking me, and I think he's using one hand to bolster the other, because the fucking becomes even more forceful, painful but incredible, and I cry out slightly as tiny beads of water form in the corners of my eyes. I'm glad he's so focused on what his hands are doing, because he would get concerned if he saw. I don't want him to stop.

I'm not crying for any conventional reason, I'm just overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the things my body can do with his. Overwhelmed by how amazing I feel. Overwhelmed by consenting to be so totally compliant.