“Can we...?” He stumbles, unable to finish the sentence as he looks away.
“Can we what?” I ask.
“Can we...uh, can we...have...you know...?”
“Hmm...” I smile slyly as I realize where he’s going. I look right into Rocco’s eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean, Roc. You’ll have to say it.”
“Can we...?” Rocco starts to say again, turns bright red, then takes a deep breath before blurting it all out at once. “Can-we-have-sex-again?”
“Oh, would you like that?” I tilt my head and run my finger down the side of my breast.
“Yes.” Rocco whimpers as he watches the path of my finger.
“Yes, Roc. We can have sex again, but first...”
“First?”
“Go get me that coffee and donuts. Get yourself some, too.”
“Okay!” Rocco smiles, but I grab the end of his chin and look into his eyes.
“That’s ‘Yes, ma’am,’” I tell him.
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Good boy. Come here first.”
Rocco leans close, and I take his face in my hands. I look at him for a while before I press my mouth tightly against his. I can feel his smile against my lips and can’t help but return it.
Before last night, I wasn’t sure how this would turn out. I was afraid I wasn’t going to get through to Rocco at all, but today that fear has been replaced by hope. I know that Rocco is ready to make some real changes in his life, and I know I can help gently push him in that direction. I think I’m ready to change as well, and helping Rocco is exactly what I need to calm myself and learn to be more tolerant and patient with others. Eventually, I think he’s going to help me let go of some of the anger and blame about my past.
I lean against the pillows, still smiling as I watch Rocco head out the door with an uncharacteristically light gait in his step. He glances back at me once more before he leaves, that adorable blush still present on his cheeks.
Yeah, we’re both a little fucked up, but that’s all right. We’re good for each other, and that’s all that matters. Who knows? Together, maybe we hold the key to healing each other.
Epilogue—Ivan
I stand in the common area of Power Exchange with my mouth hanging open, unable to make a sound. All around me, kinksters are planning their scenes for the night. A professional photographer is preparing cameras and lights as one of the dungeon monitors passes out bracelets to identify those willing to have their pictures taken. Negotiators practice their own craft nearby, but I am not paying any attention to any of them.
I’m one hundred percent focused on the woman in front of me.
“I hope you’ll consider my offer,” she says with a wide, painted smile. “You’d be perfect.”
She takes her hand and drags her bright red nails down my chest. I can feel them through my T-shirt though the pressure is not quite hard enough to leave marks. It sends a shiver through my
skin and into my cock, which immediately responds even though my mouth can’t seem to form any words. With a coy smile, she turns and walks away, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. I can’t help myself as I stare at her ass until she disappears around the corner, heading to the downstairs exit.
My heart is still pounding, but I manage to shut my mouth. I’ve never entertained such an idea, and I don’t have a clue how I feel about it. I’ve always considered myself a pretty open-minded guy when it comes to anything and everything sexual, but this? This is a whole other realm.
I might have found myself a limit.
I’m always the one willing to try anything and everything. If I’m attracted to a woman, a man, transgender, queer—whatever—I’ll go with what their kink is and let the fun begin. I’ve done impact play, both as the person hitting and the person being hit. I’ve done electrical play, fire play, rope, chains, whips, suspension, and everything in between. My kink is simply being a thrill-seeker in any way, shape, or form. I like new experiences, and nothing has ever scared me away.
But this? This is a lot to consider.
“Hey, Ivan! What’s up?”
I startle as Cree approaches. I wipe my hands on my thighs, realizing they’re getting sweaty, and try to smile as Cree walks up to me and claps me on the shoulder.