Bad Boy Blues

Then I come down to my knees and soap up his cock. It’s the most delicate, intimate and powerful thing on his body. Long and thick and proud, it stands as I stroke it. My fingers slip in the soap and I graze my thumb in the slit.

I hear his groan and glance up to see him throwing his head back into the water as I work him.

My entire body feels swollen with my lust and my love for him. This towering dark prince.

He told me once that if he wanted, he’d make me his slave and I’d fall down to the ground so fast, my knees would bleed.

I think this is it.

I’m his slave now, kneeling on the ceramic tub, serving him. Even though there’s no blood on the outside, on the inside, I’m bleeding with his love.

I work his sac next, flexing them, rolling them in my palms.

It makes his cock jerk. A pearl of a drop leaks out from the top of it and mixes in with the bubbles of his spicy-smelling soap.

As much as I want to play with him, give him the relief he needs, I move lower. I need to pamper him first, spoil him before giving him his climax.

I soap up his thighs, my fingers sifting through the hair on them. Slowly, I move down and work on his calves. The muscles on them, Jesus. I never thought calves could be sexy but they are.

They so are.

When I’m done, I come to my feet and his nostrils flare. His eyes look stoned. They are dark and drunk, completely wasted.

Before I can turn him around, he grabs the back of my neck, pulling me flush to his soapy body. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers, turned on and angry.

Our chests slip against each other because of the soap and goose bumps wake up on my wet skin. “Serving my prince.”

His grip stutters at the word and I know it means something to him. Me taking care of him like this when probably no one ever did.

When he presses a hard kiss on my mouth, I know it means everything.

I get him to turn around and his arms splay open on the tiled wall, his head bowing down.

I get more soap from the bottle and keep going, massaging and lathering up his shoulder blades and his spine. I poke my fingers in the dimples at the small of his back, soap the taut cheeks of his ass.

Once I’m done, I turn him back around and position him under the spray. I get all the soap off, go on my tiptoes to massage his scalp. I circle and rub his muscles until the water runs clean.

Zach opens his eyes, water rivering down his face, and he pushes his hair back, all sparkly and washed.

Looking into his eyes, I come down on my knees once again.

His chest swells as he stares at me with dominance and possession. Something about that makes me so horny for him. So hungry to bring him relief.

I take him in my mouth. He’s been hard all through this, hard and leaking and I can’t let him take it anymore. His shaft looks pissed off and I need to soothe it.

Balancing my hands on his hard thighs, I suck his dick.

His clean, musky taste makes me want to close my lids and savor this but I don’t want to lose our contact. The connection.

But what I can do is moan over his length so he can feel the vibrations. And I do that.

I moan and suck and blink up at him with needy eyes. I open my mouth wide, wide, wider until I’m inhaling almost every inch of him.

And over me, he’s tensing. His abs flex and he shifts on his feet, restless. His groans are louder than the splash of water against his back and the tub. His fists are getting tighter in my hair and over my shoulder.

Before long, he’s thrusting inside my mouth like he’d thrust inside my cunt.

He’s taking his pleasure from me instead of me giving it to him. And that’s the highest kind of pleasure I can grant him: letting him take from me.

I rake my nails down his thighs, up his juddering stomach. I go back and dig my nails in his hard ass, making the globes twitch.

Then, I do something that I never thought I’d do in a million years.

I trace the crease between his hard, muscular cheeks, finding that dark hole.

Zach stiffens over me, his thrusts in my mouth losing their rhythm. But I take over the job again. I move my mouth, taking him in and out as my thumb circles his tight, clenching hole.

With my other hand, I palm his balls again, squeeze them, tug at them and rub my finger over the delicate perineum. It makes him go up on his toes and palm my right tit.