Fic: The Art of Addiction II - The Art of Revenge
This is, for once ;), a brand new fic! Not dug out from somewhere, never posted anywhere before!
Title: The Art of Addiction II - The Art of Revenge
Rating: definitely NC-17
Timeline: 118
Warnings: BDSM
Summary: After their talk about addictions, Justin wants to get even.
Author's Notes: A little plot! But only to serve the porn, I swear. ;) Do you think I should turn this into a series?
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Go to Part 1 in which you read:
....“The reason why you should not be addicted to my cock is that I can always deny it to you.” He laid his hand, covered in cum, on Justin’s cheek, smearing it onto the hot skin. “Are you addicted?”, Brian whispered, swiping his thumb only once over Justin’s parted lips, pressing mercilessly onto the swollen softness.
Justin sucked the thumb between his lips, lapping at every inch of skin he could reach. He felt his whole body tingle and burn with shame and pleasure at the same time, and as Brian pulled back his hand and showed a triumphant smile, his face turned fiery red...
Onto Part 2...
“Mr. Taylor, please come to the principal’s office after school. I repeat, Mr. Justin Taylor, the principal wants to see you after school is over today.”
After that, the school’s speaker-system fell quiet again and every single person in the cafeteria looked at the blond senior blushing mildly at a table on the very far side but seemingly engrossed in eating his lunch special, chicken legs and sweet potatoes.
The girl next to him, Daphne Chanders (everyone knew her name - she was pretty much the only black kid at the school) hastily swallowed the rest of her sandwich and asked him something:
“What’s that about?”
Her friend shrugged, his mind neither on the principal nor on his food but on Brian nailing him to the floor with his gaze, not his force, as his tongue ran up Justin’s wrist and over his palm, tickling sensitive nerve endings at the tip of each finger…
“Then why aren’t you continuing about this morning?”, she demanded, something close to a pout darkening her ever-constant grin where his sex-life was concerned, “you still haven’t told me what happened after Brian started jerking off!”
Justin barely suppressed a moan just thinking about the fingers now digging painfully into his wrist that stopped him, a soft touch of Brian’s lips on his, “Are you addicted?”
By the time lunch was over, he had recounted every detail to his eager friend who had then sent him off to the restrooms. “You’re not only sporting a hickey anymore” were her amused words of goodbye in front of the Men’s bathrooms.
Justin locked himself into a stall quickly. Of course, Daphne had been right: He had gotten a hard-on. Luckily there were still ten minutes left in which he easily could masturbate, clean up and walk into American Lit composed and as calmly looking as it was possible with a huge dark spot contrasting against his pale neck and blue marks on his wrists barely covered by his sleeves.
Sitting down on the toilet, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine being with Brian again - and to push away the shame that was constantly crawling at the edge of his mind. Daphne had given the “thing” that had happened a name this morning when he had explained the bruises in a rush: D/s. And Justin couldn’t help but think all day:
You’re fucking weird for getting off on it the way you did.
If at least he had been the dominant part, but instead he had let Brian take control over him without so much as even putting up a fight. And just remembering it made his hand fumble quickly to open his zipper and shove his pants out of the way. He had basically been hard ever since IT-class in which he had researched… well, the “topic”. But seeing all the pictures and reading about… about D/s had only served to make him horny and therefore more embarrassed.
He did feel a little bashful even now when his fingers wrapped around his aching cock, only for attempting to jerk off in the middle of a school day in the restroom… but it would not come to that. Because as he started stroking awkwardly, his imagination flashed memories of this morning to the surface: Brian’s naked fingers had started stroking his cock lightly, the thumb of the other hand tapping against his pulse, reminding him of the firm grip, hips still pressed tightly to his ass. Again he felt encaged, incapable of moving, even though there were no bonds other than warm lips and long fingers holding him down. His cheeks flushed at the thought and Justin groaned lowly, quickening his hand immediately and swaying his thumb over the tip, this way spreading the precum thoroughly. His hand slid up and down smoothly, he wiggled to get a better angle, his pants further out of the way, until suddenly - “This is not how we play this game, Justin.”
Shit. His breath was coming out in erratic rushes and his cock literally throbbed in his hand - but Justin couldn’t go on. He remembered Brian’s cold voice, his painfully firm grip and the marks it had left, the way he had used and abused his body shamelessly simply to make a point:
“You’re obeying me, anyway.”
Justin could hear it now, could feel the cum smeared on his cheek and taste it on his tongue as he greedily sucked on Brian’s thumb, sealing his own humiliation.
Fuck!
He went to American Lit with a pathetically willed-down and at least half-way concealed hard-on.
A 90-minute lecture on Hemmingway had calmed him so much that he was able to walk into the principal’s office with his dignity intact but still no worry on his mind. After the disaster with the GSA, he didn’t give a flying fuck about this man anymore - his college applications were sent out and there were merely a few weeks left until the long-anticipated last day of fucking High School. No, he wouldn’t waste a single thought on Dr. Perkins or the whole of St. fucking James’s Academy anymore, not if he could be thinking about Brian licking across his hot lips, they trembled... stop it already!
“Please have a seat, Justin”, was what Dr. Perkins greeted him with and motioned towards one of the comfortable ‘let’s-impress-parents’-armchairs. His expression was very grave and serious as he pulled a sheet of paper out from some random stack: “Your IT-teacher sent me this list earlier in the day. Would you explain to me how he could track you visiting the following websites?”
Dr. Perkins handed the list to Justin with pointed fingers, only touching the corner of the paper as if to express his disgust. It said in a neat handwriting:
Beginning of the class 8:30 AM
Taylor visits the following websites:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D/s
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sadomasochism
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Submissive_%28BDSM%29#Top_and_bottom_in_BDSM
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safe_word
5. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master/slave_relationship
6. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM
7. http://en.wikinews.org/wiki/BDSM_as_business:_An_interview_with_the_owners_of_a_dungeon
8. http://www.peter-masters.com/control_book/index.html
9. http://www.domsub.info/
End of the class at 10:00 AM
Comment: Taylor did not focus on the class’s assignment but instead visited websites of sexually immoral content.
Oops.
Justin looked up at his principal and at least had the decency to blush. Being a rebel, his answer was everything else than intimidated though: “Well, what Mr. Kerkins used to track me is a monitoring program that the school bought-“
“Justin, of course I was referring to your reason for visiting those websites, which you know very well.”
I wanted to find out if I'm a pervert and what else my boyfriend and I could do than the fucking hot encounter we had this morning.
But instead of voicing his thoughts, Justin shrugged and settled for: “I guess I was just curious.”
Dr. Perkins let out a long, troubled sigh, as if what he was going to say next would pain him: “I’m very sorry to say this, Justin, but considering how many warnings we had to give you in recent time… this is a grave injury of our computer regulation rules… I see no other way than to suspend you for another two weeks.”
The door to his room slammed shut so hard that the walls shook - fucking American houses! Fucking American schools! Fucking America!
Dr. Perkins had looked at him pitifully and emphasized, as if Justin didn’t know, that this would be the last action before he’d be expelled.
Justin was seething with rage. It was so unfair! So fucking unfair! A whole two weeks, suspended, just because he’s had “warnings” - for what? For founding GSA, for trying to promote integrity, for not letting himself be victimized. Awesome. Truly awesome!
He dropped on his bed, so angry that tears were threatening to spill - like some fucking teenager! And he was also horny like a fucking teenager because he hadn’t come all day thanks to Brian fucking Kinney!
“You think you can mess with me?”, Justin mumbled, “okay, Brian, fine.” He stood up and opened his closet with a newfound sudden purpose:
I’ll show you much you can’t deny me.
It was his luck that Brian had forgotten to take away his key when he had kicked him out a couple of weeks ago. After having phoned Ryder Company to make sure Brian was still at work, Justin took the next bus to Tremont Street and let himself into the building with the key. As he took the stairs one by one, he prayed that the alarm code hadn’t been changed.
In front of the door, Justin paused for a moment, chewing on his lip. His anger had worn off a little on the bus ride and now he felt bad for practically breaking in to the Loft. Of course, he had a key, so he wasn’t technically breaking a law, but this was Brian’s place, and coming here without Brian’s knowledge in order to get his revenge was somewhat… immoral.
Yeeeaah, for him to sexually humiliate you is also “somewhat immoral.”
His nervousness almost got the better of him, but Justin bravely punched in the last code he’d known. Please don’t let the alarm go off, 1, don’t let the alarm go off, 2, please don’t go off!, 2,please!, 5, 1, BE RIGHT CODE!! 0.
…nothing.
The alarm system blinked two times, then clicked.
Justin took a deep breath. The Loft was his.
First he went to the toy drawer. All his research in IT-class had informed him only a little; he still couldn’t identify most of the items in there. Sure, there were dildos in all sizes and shapes as well as cockrings and a few buttplugs… but a weird collection of differently-sized bars and bizarre leather-formations especially puzzled him. And even the things he did recognize… well… Justin couldn’t even imagine daring to use them on Brian.
He sank to his knees in front of the drawer, twitching hands resting on his thighs. His eyes wandered back to the leather...
A kind of collar? No, too small. Maybe… maybe for an ankle or a wrist?
He reached out to touch it, but then hastily pulled his hand back. Fuck. Already this stuff had him hot and bothered. He wanted to try them out so badly… regardless if he did or didn’t know them, he wanted to feel them, wanted to find out what they were used for, how they could be used in a game of BDSM…
Justin slammed the drawer shut and fled into the kitchen, his face burning hot. He gulped down half a bottle of water before the color started to leave his cheeks. Oh God. Oh my fucking God.
No, the toy drawer was definitely not the right place to start. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this idea, in fact, sucked so tremendously that he should forget all about it. The need to get even was only formed by his anger with the asshole Perkins, anyway. Leave, as long as you still can.
Yeah, that was the best idea. Just forget about what happened in the morning. Go home, jerk off, have a valuable vacation. Justin put on his jacket and as his soft scarf slipped through his fingers… he suddenly got a new idea.
Or maybe I will stay a while...
The phone on Brian’s desk suddenly started ringing. He answered, annoyed at having to stop insulting Bob and Bill, or whatever their names were. “Yes?”
“Justin’s on line 1”, Cynthia announced with a smile in her voice. Brian didn’t reply, just punched a button on his phone and repeated, a lot less annoyed on remembering their little “talk” on addictions: “Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Justin. Just wondering whether you’re available tonight.”
A smirk lifted Brian’s lips: “I see someone hasn’t forgotten this morning.” He could practically see Justin blush. Ah, in that moment he wished he hadn’t made plans for tonight so that he could torture the little boy… but alas! “Sorry, sunshine, but I’ve already ordered in.”
“What time?”
What is it with that kid and all the questions?
“Nine, if it’s any of your business.”
“It may be.”
Justin hung up with a grin. This. Was perfect.
Brian made it an early evening and left the office at seven thirty. No reason to overwork himself, especially because fucking the two clients today had not put the picture of a flushed, cum-smeared, through-and-thoroughly debauched Justin from his mind. He’d need to relax a little, otherwise his “dinner” would be spreading the rumor that Brian was a fast shooter. Not possible.
What he didn’t expect was to find Justin slouching on his couch, rubbing his cock through his jeans. Very tight jeans. And a black t-shirt, outlining his slim body nicely… “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Brian dropped his briefcase with a loud bang onto the counter, seemingly annoyed though honestly not minding at all. He could fuck the kid and then have the other guy for dinner - and if Justin insisted on staying, fine, he could teach him another lesson of the daily curriculum: I don’t do boyfriends.
“Waiting for you”, the kid answered cockily and sat up, his hair already a little ruffled as if he had been pulling at it.
“I told you I had plans”, Brian pointed out, but he was already shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning the white shirt, his tie and shoes discarded on the floor. He took a step towards Justin, only dressed in his pants and heard the boy’s breathe hitch. It sent a sparkle of anticipation through his body… this feeling of being desired mindlessly always got to him, and he remembered Justin in the morning, pressing his fingers against the racing pulse, kissing and biting those trembling lips and watching the kid suck the cum off his thumb…
“I thought you’d like a surprise”, Justin answered shakily when they were so close that he could feel the heat radiating off Brian’s skin, but nothing else. No hand touching, no lips kissing, no dicks rubbing for friction… fuck. Brian’s eyes trailed down his arm, he wanted to repeat the morning’s performance, have the kid under his complete control again, dominate and liberate, but - no. That particular path was one he couldn’t lie out for Justin, as hot as it had been.
Brian actually felt a little relieved that he hadn’t scared the boy off. He took hold of Justin’s forearm and gently kissed the dark imprints of his fingertips left in the kid’s flesh. Reminding himself again that this may not be pursued any further, he looked up into the blue eyes, nearly covered by heavy lids, and demanded lowly: “Well, I guess I could do with one of your blowjobs…”
Justin couldn’t have obliged more quickly. He turned Brian around and steered him until the back of Brian’s knees hit the low coffee table. Then he was on his knees, not wasting any time on foreplay - good. The kid obviously knew he wouldn’t get much time today.
The remaining clothes were history after merely a moment and Justin, still proud of his cocksucking as of nothing else, closes his lips around Brian’s shaft and swallowed it to the base in one go, not even choking once. His nose was buried in the dark pubes and he hummed appreciatively at the intense scent, making Brian proud and much hornier at the same time.
Justin’s head started moving quickly as his hands separated Brian’s legs further whose breath was still taken away by the kid’s mouth - fuck!, Justin’s tongue swirled right across the tip of his cock, into the slit and then along the ridge, covering all the spots at once, and Brian couldn’t help but moan loudly. His hands gripped the blond hair firmly, tugging and pushing a little, even though his guidance was unnecessary: Justin lowered his stance even further and sucked very lightly on the head, making Brian’s knees buckle just for second, his mouth opened in awe.
Something soft touched his ankle. Brian pushed the whatever-it-was to the back of his mind, insistent on enjoying this kid’s awesome mouth… but the something didn’t go away but instead suddenly tightened. Brian opened his eyes to check what was happening right at the moment that Justin took his cock once again down to the very bottom, engulfing it in wet heavenly heat and then swallowed purposefully.
Brian’s head dropped back and hissed his name, “Justin!”, as a second softness enclosed his other leg and Justin’s tongue left the aching cock to play with his heavy balls, any moment now, any fucking moment…!
Then Justin suddenly stood up, cutting all contact.
“Justin…”, Brian warned, his voice dangerously on the edge. He opened his eyes and upon seeing the smirk on the kid’s face he was firmly decided to shove him onto the couch and fuck him hard for such rudeness.
There was only one problem concerning that plan: His legs were tied to the coffee table with two of his very own Cashmere scarves.
Hence the softness.
Brian looked up and into the kid’s face which was glowing with triumph. “And now, Justin?”, he asked in an even darker, even more dangerous voice: “Where do you think you can take this…?”
The high of power and lust was clearly apparent on Justin’s face as the kid commanded:
“Lie down.”
Next chapter...
Title: The Art of Addiction II - The Art of Revenge
Rating: definitely NC-17
Timeline: 118
Warnings: BDSM
Summary: After their talk about addictions, Justin wants to get even.
Author's Notes: A little plot! But only to serve the porn, I swear. ;) Do you think I should turn this into a series?
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Go to Part 1 in which you read:
....“The reason why you should not be addicted to my cock is that I can always deny it to you.” He laid his hand, covered in cum, on Justin’s cheek, smearing it onto the hot skin. “Are you addicted?”, Brian whispered, swiping his thumb only once over Justin’s parted lips, pressing mercilessly onto the swollen softness.
Justin sucked the thumb between his lips, lapping at every inch of skin he could reach. He felt his whole body tingle and burn with shame and pleasure at the same time, and as Brian pulled back his hand and showed a triumphant smile, his face turned fiery red...
Onto Part 2...
“Mr. Taylor, please come to the principal’s office after school. I repeat, Mr. Justin Taylor, the principal wants to see you after school is over today.”
After that, the school’s speaker-system fell quiet again and every single person in the cafeteria looked at the blond senior blushing mildly at a table on the very far side but seemingly engrossed in eating his lunch special, chicken legs and sweet potatoes.
The girl next to him, Daphne Chanders (everyone knew her name - she was pretty much the only black kid at the school) hastily swallowed the rest of her sandwich and asked him something:
“What’s that about?”
Her friend shrugged, his mind neither on the principal nor on his food but on Brian nailing him to the floor with his gaze, not his force, as his tongue ran up Justin’s wrist and over his palm, tickling sensitive nerve endings at the tip of each finger…
“Then why aren’t you continuing about this morning?”, she demanded, something close to a pout darkening her ever-constant grin where his sex-life was concerned, “you still haven’t told me what happened after Brian started jerking off!”
Justin barely suppressed a moan just thinking about the fingers now digging painfully into his wrist that stopped him, a soft touch of Brian’s lips on his, “Are you addicted?”
By the time lunch was over, he had recounted every detail to his eager friend who had then sent him off to the restrooms. “You’re not only sporting a hickey anymore” were her amused words of goodbye in front of the Men’s bathrooms.
Justin locked himself into a stall quickly. Of course, Daphne had been right: He had gotten a hard-on. Luckily there were still ten minutes left in which he easily could masturbate, clean up and walk into American Lit composed and as calmly looking as it was possible with a huge dark spot contrasting against his pale neck and blue marks on his wrists barely covered by his sleeves.
Sitting down on the toilet, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine being with Brian again - and to push away the shame that was constantly crawling at the edge of his mind. Daphne had given the “thing” that had happened a name this morning when he had explained the bruises in a rush: D/s. And Justin couldn’t help but think all day:
You’re fucking weird for getting off on it the way you did.
If at least he had been the dominant part, but instead he had let Brian take control over him without so much as even putting up a fight. And just remembering it made his hand fumble quickly to open his zipper and shove his pants out of the way. He had basically been hard ever since IT-class in which he had researched… well, the “topic”. But seeing all the pictures and reading about… about D/s had only served to make him horny and therefore more embarrassed.
He did feel a little bashful even now when his fingers wrapped around his aching cock, only for attempting to jerk off in the middle of a school day in the restroom… but it would not come to that. Because as he started stroking awkwardly, his imagination flashed memories of this morning to the surface: Brian’s naked fingers had started stroking his cock lightly, the thumb of the other hand tapping against his pulse, reminding him of the firm grip, hips still pressed tightly to his ass. Again he felt encaged, incapable of moving, even though there were no bonds other than warm lips and long fingers holding him down. His cheeks flushed at the thought and Justin groaned lowly, quickening his hand immediately and swaying his thumb over the tip, this way spreading the precum thoroughly. His hand slid up and down smoothly, he wiggled to get a better angle, his pants further out of the way, until suddenly - “This is not how we play this game, Justin.”
Shit. His breath was coming out in erratic rushes and his cock literally throbbed in his hand - but Justin couldn’t go on. He remembered Brian’s cold voice, his painfully firm grip and the marks it had left, the way he had used and abused his body shamelessly simply to make a point:
“You’re obeying me, anyway.”
Justin could hear it now, could feel the cum smeared on his cheek and taste it on his tongue as he greedily sucked on Brian’s thumb, sealing his own humiliation.
Fuck!
He went to American Lit with a pathetically willed-down and at least half-way concealed hard-on.
A 90-minute lecture on Hemmingway had calmed him so much that he was able to walk into the principal’s office with his dignity intact but still no worry on his mind. After the disaster with the GSA, he didn’t give a flying fuck about this man anymore - his college applications were sent out and there were merely a few weeks left until the long-anticipated last day of fucking High School. No, he wouldn’t waste a single thought on Dr. Perkins or the whole of St. fucking James’s Academy anymore, not if he could be thinking about Brian licking across his hot lips, they trembled... stop it already!
“Please have a seat, Justin”, was what Dr. Perkins greeted him with and motioned towards one of the comfortable ‘let’s-impress-parents’-armchairs. His expression was very grave and serious as he pulled a sheet of paper out from some random stack: “Your IT-teacher sent me this list earlier in the day. Would you explain to me how he could track you visiting the following websites?”
Dr. Perkins handed the list to Justin with pointed fingers, only touching the corner of the paper as if to express his disgust. It said in a neat handwriting:
Beginning of the class 8:30 AM
Taylor visits the following websites:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D/s
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sadomasochism
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Submissive_%28BDSM%29#Top_and_bottom_in_BDSM
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safe_word
5. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Master/slave_relationship
6. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM
7. http://en.wikinews.org/wiki/BDSM_as_business:_An_interview_with_the_owners_of_a_dungeon
8. http://www.peter-masters.com/control_book/index.html
9. http://www.domsub.info/
End of the class at 10:00 AM
Comment: Taylor did not focus on the class’s assignment but instead visited websites of sexually immoral content.
Oops.
Justin looked up at his principal and at least had the decency to blush. Being a rebel, his answer was everything else than intimidated though: “Well, what Mr. Kerkins used to track me is a monitoring program that the school bought-“
“Justin, of course I was referring to your reason for visiting those websites, which you know very well.”
I wanted to find out if I'm a pervert and what else my boyfriend and I could do than the fucking hot encounter we had this morning.
But instead of voicing his thoughts, Justin shrugged and settled for: “I guess I was just curious.”
Dr. Perkins let out a long, troubled sigh, as if what he was going to say next would pain him: “I’m very sorry to say this, Justin, but considering how many warnings we had to give you in recent time… this is a grave injury of our computer regulation rules… I see no other way than to suspend you for another two weeks.”
The door to his room slammed shut so hard that the walls shook - fucking American houses! Fucking American schools! Fucking America!
Dr. Perkins had looked at him pitifully and emphasized, as if Justin didn’t know, that this would be the last action before he’d be expelled.
Justin was seething with rage. It was so unfair! So fucking unfair! A whole two weeks, suspended, just because he’s had “warnings” - for what? For founding GSA, for trying to promote integrity, for not letting himself be victimized. Awesome. Truly awesome!
He dropped on his bed, so angry that tears were threatening to spill - like some fucking teenager! And he was also horny like a fucking teenager because he hadn’t come all day thanks to Brian fucking Kinney!
“You think you can mess with me?”, Justin mumbled, “okay, Brian, fine.” He stood up and opened his closet with a newfound sudden purpose:
I’ll show you much you can’t deny me.
It was his luck that Brian had forgotten to take away his key when he had kicked him out a couple of weeks ago. After having phoned Ryder Company to make sure Brian was still at work, Justin took the next bus to Tremont Street and let himself into the building with the key. As he took the stairs one by one, he prayed that the alarm code hadn’t been changed.
In front of the door, Justin paused for a moment, chewing on his lip. His anger had worn off a little on the bus ride and now he felt bad for practically breaking in to the Loft. Of course, he had a key, so he wasn’t technically breaking a law, but this was Brian’s place, and coming here without Brian’s knowledge in order to get his revenge was somewhat… immoral.
Yeeeaah, for him to sexually humiliate you is also “somewhat immoral.”
His nervousness almost got the better of him, but Justin bravely punched in the last code he’d known. Please don’t let the alarm go off, 1, don’t let the alarm go off, 2, please don’t go off!, 2,please!, 5, 1, BE RIGHT CODE!! 0.
…nothing.
The alarm system blinked two times, then clicked.
Justin took a deep breath. The Loft was his.
First he went to the toy drawer. All his research in IT-class had informed him only a little; he still couldn’t identify most of the items in there. Sure, there were dildos in all sizes and shapes as well as cockrings and a few buttplugs… but a weird collection of differently-sized bars and bizarre leather-formations especially puzzled him. And even the things he did recognize… well… Justin couldn’t even imagine daring to use them on Brian.
He sank to his knees in front of the drawer, twitching hands resting on his thighs. His eyes wandered back to the leather...
A kind of collar? No, too small. Maybe… maybe for an ankle or a wrist?
He reached out to touch it, but then hastily pulled his hand back. Fuck. Already this stuff had him hot and bothered. He wanted to try them out so badly… regardless if he did or didn’t know them, he wanted to feel them, wanted to find out what they were used for, how they could be used in a game of BDSM…
Justin slammed the drawer shut and fled into the kitchen, his face burning hot. He gulped down half a bottle of water before the color started to leave his cheeks. Oh God. Oh my fucking God.
No, the toy drawer was definitely not the right place to start. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this idea, in fact, sucked so tremendously that he should forget all about it. The need to get even was only formed by his anger with the asshole Perkins, anyway. Leave, as long as you still can.
Yeah, that was the best idea. Just forget about what happened in the morning. Go home, jerk off, have a valuable vacation. Justin put on his jacket and as his soft scarf slipped through his fingers… he suddenly got a new idea.
Or maybe I will stay a while...
The phone on Brian’s desk suddenly started ringing. He answered, annoyed at having to stop insulting Bob and Bill, or whatever their names were. “Yes?”
“Justin’s on line 1”, Cynthia announced with a smile in her voice. Brian didn’t reply, just punched a button on his phone and repeated, a lot less annoyed on remembering their little “talk” on addictions: “Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Justin. Just wondering whether you’re available tonight.”
A smirk lifted Brian’s lips: “I see someone hasn’t forgotten this morning.” He could practically see Justin blush. Ah, in that moment he wished he hadn’t made plans for tonight so that he could torture the little boy… but alas! “Sorry, sunshine, but I’ve already ordered in.”
“What time?”
What is it with that kid and all the questions?
“Nine, if it’s any of your business.”
“It may be.”
Justin hung up with a grin. This. Was perfect.
Brian made it an early evening and left the office at seven thirty. No reason to overwork himself, especially because fucking the two clients today had not put the picture of a flushed, cum-smeared, through-and-thoroughly debauched Justin from his mind. He’d need to relax a little, otherwise his “dinner” would be spreading the rumor that Brian was a fast shooter. Not possible.
What he didn’t expect was to find Justin slouching on his couch, rubbing his cock through his jeans. Very tight jeans. And a black t-shirt, outlining his slim body nicely… “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Brian dropped his briefcase with a loud bang onto the counter, seemingly annoyed though honestly not minding at all. He could fuck the kid and then have the other guy for dinner - and if Justin insisted on staying, fine, he could teach him another lesson of the daily curriculum: I don’t do boyfriends.
“Waiting for you”, the kid answered cockily and sat up, his hair already a little ruffled as if he had been pulling at it.
“I told you I had plans”, Brian pointed out, but he was already shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning the white shirt, his tie and shoes discarded on the floor. He took a step towards Justin, only dressed in his pants and heard the boy’s breathe hitch. It sent a sparkle of anticipation through his body… this feeling of being desired mindlessly always got to him, and he remembered Justin in the morning, pressing his fingers against the racing pulse, kissing and biting those trembling lips and watching the kid suck the cum off his thumb…
“I thought you’d like a surprise”, Justin answered shakily when they were so close that he could feel the heat radiating off Brian’s skin, but nothing else. No hand touching, no lips kissing, no dicks rubbing for friction… fuck. Brian’s eyes trailed down his arm, he wanted to repeat the morning’s performance, have the kid under his complete control again, dominate and liberate, but - no. That particular path was one he couldn’t lie out for Justin, as hot as it had been.
Brian actually felt a little relieved that he hadn’t scared the boy off. He took hold of Justin’s forearm and gently kissed the dark imprints of his fingertips left in the kid’s flesh. Reminding himself again that this may not be pursued any further, he looked up into the blue eyes, nearly covered by heavy lids, and demanded lowly: “Well, I guess I could do with one of your blowjobs…”
Justin couldn’t have obliged more quickly. He turned Brian around and steered him until the back of Brian’s knees hit the low coffee table. Then he was on his knees, not wasting any time on foreplay - good. The kid obviously knew he wouldn’t get much time today.
The remaining clothes were history after merely a moment and Justin, still proud of his cocksucking as of nothing else, closes his lips around Brian’s shaft and swallowed it to the base in one go, not even choking once. His nose was buried in the dark pubes and he hummed appreciatively at the intense scent, making Brian proud and much hornier at the same time.
Justin’s head started moving quickly as his hands separated Brian’s legs further whose breath was still taken away by the kid’s mouth - fuck!, Justin’s tongue swirled right across the tip of his cock, into the slit and then along the ridge, covering all the spots at once, and Brian couldn’t help but moan loudly. His hands gripped the blond hair firmly, tugging and pushing a little, even though his guidance was unnecessary: Justin lowered his stance even further and sucked very lightly on the head, making Brian’s knees buckle just for second, his mouth opened in awe.
Something soft touched his ankle. Brian pushed the whatever-it-was to the back of his mind, insistent on enjoying this kid’s awesome mouth… but the something didn’t go away but instead suddenly tightened. Brian opened his eyes to check what was happening right at the moment that Justin took his cock once again down to the very bottom, engulfing it in wet heavenly heat and then swallowed purposefully.
Brian’s head dropped back and hissed his name, “Justin!”, as a second softness enclosed his other leg and Justin’s tongue left the aching cock to play with his heavy balls, any moment now, any fucking moment…!
Then Justin suddenly stood up, cutting all contact.
“Justin…”, Brian warned, his voice dangerously on the edge. He opened his eyes and upon seeing the smirk on the kid’s face he was firmly decided to shove him onto the couch and fuck him hard for such rudeness.
There was only one problem concerning that plan: His legs were tied to the coffee table with two of his very own Cashmere scarves.
Hence the softness.
Brian looked up and into the kid’s face which was glowing with triumph. “And now, Justin?”, he asked in an even darker, even more dangerous voice: “Where do you think you can take this…?”
The high of power and lust was clearly apparent on Justin’s face as the kid commanded:
“Lie down.”
Next chapter...