I got this post up a bit late. Again. Whoops. It’s all written! If you missed the start to this story, make sure to check it out! ~Jayden
Chapter 3
After many conversations and negotiations about boundaries, STI tests, guidelines, and preferences, I was finally meeting with Kody for the first time. He had offered to pay for a hotel room, but I was more comfortable in my own apartment. Plus, it was a ground-floor apartment, and there weren’t any other apartments wall to wall with mine, so if I made him scream, it wouldn’t be easy for someone else to hear.
Kody: I’ll be over as soon as I get the kids to bed.
Me: When is that?
Kody: Bedtime is at 8.
Me: Okay.
It was already 7:30, and I spent half an hour going over every detail of the apartment. Were there dishes in the sink? Did I need to vacuum? Had my cat knocked over her food bowl? In the end, I would never be fully satisfied, and I questioned for the 50th time if inviting him into my apartment was the right way to do this.
But having the toys laid out on the dresser the way I liked them was definitely a benefit to being in my own space. And when he arrived, I found that I was able to get into the right mindset. Finally.
As soon as the door closed, he was on his knees in the entryway, just as I had instructed him.
“Mistress,” he said, looking up at me. Standing, he was almost a foot taller than me, but kneeling, I got to tower over him.
I smirked down at him, “What do you want?” I asked, putting as much disdain into my voice as I could manage.
“Use me, Mistress. I want to please you.”
“Come,” I said, and I turned on my heel and walked into the apartment. He followed, crawling along the floor. “God you’re slow,” I complained.
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he said, and he hustled a little more, but he couldn’t move that quickly on his hands and knees.
When we got to the bedroom, he sat back on his heels, and I took the opportunity to stand in front of him and smack him across the face. It felt good. Too good. His whimper of pain and the look in his eyes were sexy, but when I thought back to when he rejected me years ago, it made me feel better. “Hands down if you don’t want your knuckles rapped.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said, and he put them down on his thighs, steeling himself. I smacked him across the other cheek, and he whimpered some more but kept his hands on his legs.
“Tell me what you’re here for.”
“To please you, Mistress.”
“Why are you wearing clothes?”
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” he said, and he quickly took off all of his clothes, folding them into a neat pile in the hallway.
“Stand up so I can inspect you.”
He did, and I circled him, my fingers brushing along all the parts of his body I’d been desperate to touch two decades ago, though I couldn’t say that I was disappointed now.
His muscles were well formed but not bulging. His body hair was still mostly brown, but I could see gray creeping in at his temples. His ass was cuter out of clothes than it had been in them. “Bend over.”
He did, and I spread his ass cheeks, looking at how tight his asshole was. “Have you been fingering your ass like I told you, bitch?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said.
“Good,” I replied. I walked around to his front and stuck one finger in his mouth. “Get it good and wet, bitch. It’s going in your ass.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “Yes, Mistress,” and I could feel his tongue swirl around the tip of my finger at a faster pace.
“That’s enough,” I said, and I pulled it out of his mouth, circled back around, and pressed it against his tight hole. He moaned as I pressed it inside him. “The more you submit, the less this will hurt, I promise you.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said, but his muscles didn’t relax much.
I pushed on with my finger until I was about halfway in. Then I started fucking him with my finger, just a little bit. Within seconds, he was moaning and pressing back against my finger. “Are you going to be a little sissy bitch?” I asked. “Do you want me to get a stud to fuck your ass?”
I could see his wide eyes as he turned his neck to look at me. “Would you do that, Mistress?”
I shrugged. “Maybe if you’re a very, very good boy.”
J R Vincente 