by Leta Blake
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a bad elf, and I need to be punished.”
RJ laughed. “You do. Look at this sexy ass, so round and perfect. Let’s mark it up, Mr. Danvers.”
Aaron gripped the edges of the sofa, turned his head from the screen, and bit into the pillow as a stinging stripe of pain broke over his ass. Aaron shivered and his cock throbbed as RJ squeezed his thighs around it. As the slaps from the ruler rained down, the stinging grew hotter, and stronger. RJ concentrated his strikes on the same spot, so that the pain escalated. “Like that?” he whispered.
Aaron moaned.
“Let’s take you higher.” RJ put the ruler aside and switched to hitting with his hand. Aaron pulled in a harsh breath, and within a few strikes, his mind was on fire and his ass muscles clenched tight. “Ready for more of the ruler?”
Aaron nodded, but the ruler hurt more this time. His flesh was burning from RJ’s palm, and he grunted and twisted. The light, smarting stripes felt like firecracker-heat on his skin. It built and built. Stinging, and shallow, but fiery and growing.
When RJ switched back to his hand, the first strike made Aaron gasp and choke on his own spit. “So good, Mr. Danvers,” RJ murmured, and then began to spank him with an intensity that made Aaron howl into the pillow. But RJ was strong and held him firmly. The elf costume tights strained against Aaron’s thighs as he struggled, and the sense that he was trapped in them, trapped on RJ’s lap was heady and hot.
His cock pulsed between RJ’s thighs, and when RJ grabbed hold of his throbbing ass cheeks and squeezed, Aaron lifted his head, a mess of agony and bliss, to shout, “I’m going to come!”
“Come for me,” RJ ordered. “Do it.”
RJ’s firm grasp on his ass, shoving his hips down into the tunnel between the hurtful seams of RJ’s jeans, was all Aaron needed. He arched his head back, fresh sweat breaking over his skin, and came.
Rocket explosions of pleasure shook him, and he collapsed on RJ’s lap, legs shaking and a shivery whimper sliding out of his mouth.
“That’s right, Mr. Danvers,” RJ said, fingers soothing in his hair and stroking down his neck and back. “You’re gorgeous. So fucking sexy. Look at you. Never thought I’d have the chance. Thank you.”
Aaron shuddered, white noise and shimmering glimpses of shame rushing into his mind. He started to stand, but his legs were too weak, and he slipped to the floor, tights still digging into his legs. RJ tore off his T-shirt to mop up the come that hadn’t made it onto the Santa cape, pushed his jeans down to his knees, and nodded at his feet.
“Take my boots off. Then my pants. I think you earned a taste of my come.”
Aaron shivered and nodded, the shame that had been trying to overtake the white noise losing its fight as renewed lust took up the available space in Aaron’s brain.
As he worked the laces free and tugged the big combat boots from RJ’s feet, he leaned into RJ’s hand working through his hair over and over, soothing and commanding.
“That’s it, Elf. Now, c’mere and open up.”
RJ meant it when he said he’d never thought he’d get this chance and he wasn’t going to waste it. He might have already shot one load down Aaron’s greedy throat, but he was far from finished with his naughty elf. Not for the night. Hopefully, not for the weekend either.
RJ removed Aaron’s tights and moved him to kneel on the sofa with his hands on the back of it. He dragged Aaron’s vest off and tossed it to the ground with the Santa hat. RJ chose to keep his T-shirt and jeans on for now.
The red stripes on Aaron’s ass were intoxicating, and he couldn’t keep his hands off them. Aaron squirmed and moaned with every pass and squeeze, but he pushed back for more and bowed his head to his forearms on the back of the sofa, surrendering his body.
“What do you think comes next?” RJ said, trailing a finger up and down Aaron’s crack, dragging through soft, fine hair to the hairless whorl of knotted muscle.
“Whatever you want,” Aaron said, his breath hitching.
“That’s right. Good answer, naughty elf.” He lightly massaged Aaron’s hole until it flexed and tightened, and then he spread his cheeks wide and bent down.
“Oh!” Aaron cried as RJ’s tongue found its target. His head lifted and dropped again, another sobbing sound on his lips as RJ intensified his tongue’s teasing strokes and pressed against the sensitive flesh.
Aaron’s thighs trembled and shook, his weight shifting from knee to knee, his asshole flexing and releasing wildly. “Oh, fuck, RJ,” he groaned. “It’s been…shit. It’s been a long time.”
Hookups didn’t always extend beyond a blowjob or a hurried fuck, RJ knew all too well. The pleasure of a good, long rimming was in short supply in most single, gay men’s lives. He set about giving Aaron all the rimming his body could take.
It wasn’t long before Aaron was arching back, reaching behind him to tug at RJ’s short hair, barely able to grip it, and alternately tucking his ass like he was trying to get away before shoving it back for more.
The noises he let out stopped being groans or even whimpers and became full on hiccupping pleasure-sobs, high-pitched and desperate, lost and a little scared. RJ didn’t stop. He pressed his fingers to Aaron’s taint, rubbing and amping up the sensation. RJ grinned when Aaron suddenly froze in place, his asshole convulsing and a torn cry on his lips.
More come spattered the Santa cape. Aaron slid to the side and collapsed in a heap on the sofa, legs twitching, eyes rolled up, and hips jerking. RJ covered him with his body, rubbing his cock against Aaron’s trembling stomach and pubic hair, finally clambering up enough to get his cock to Aaron’s mouth so that when his red lips opened weakly, letting RJ push inside, RJ threw back his head and came for the second time that night.
And it didn’t end there.
RJ hadn’t gone by the Adult Superstore to buy anal beads for nothing.
Aaron lay draped over his lap again, red ass up and legs spread a bit, shocked little breaths coming and going as they started the Christmas mouse movie over. RJ took his time, starting with the small bead and working his way up with patience and lube until Aaron was sweating and shoving back to try for the last one—a bead nearly as big as a small fist.
“That’s good,” RJ said, holding Aaron’s torso tight with one arm and working the fat bead in as Aaron strained. “Such a beautiful man. I can’t believe how lucky I am to get to see you like this. Thank you, Mr. Danvers—Aaron. Thank you, baby.”
He wasn’t sure Aaron heard him, straining and full as he was, but he spoke the words anyway, sincere and from the depth of his soul. This was more than he’d ever deserved from a man, but damn if he wasn’t going to take it. And he’d give as good as he got. He’d give Mr. Danvers anything.
“Oh!” Mr. Danvers—Aaron—cried, shock popping his eyes open wide just as his asshole finally surrendered and the final bead pushed in. “Ah!” he cried, shifting wildly, his hole swallowing the bead fast like it’d never been there, leaving just the sturdy cord dangling out of him to pull them free again.
“Oh, Mr. Danvers, look at that,” RJ said, cooing with praise. “That’s my man. That’s my beautiful elf.”
Aaron collapsed again, the movie soundtrack singing a cheesy song about Christmastime, and he swiveled his hips against RJ’s thighs. His body shook all over, and he convulsed in short pulses. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling up. “It’s so much. Oh, fuck.” He convulsed again, his hips hitching.
RJ soothed his haunches, but the pleasure kept wracking Aaron, taking him farther and farther away on a journey of shaking bliss. He moaned and groaned, his body and cock flexing and releasing, jets of pre-come pulsing as he gripped RJ’s thighs, struggled up to his knees, and straddled RJ’s legs, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.
“Please,” he whispered. “Spank me again. The table. Please.”
RJ didn’t have to be asked twice. He scooped Aaron into his arms, finding him a bit heavier
than expected due to his sturdy muscles, but still easy enough to carry the few steps to the small table by the kitchen area. He laid Aaron out over it, hands gripping the opposite edge, and his cock just barely free of the hard surface, pointing down to the floor.
“That ass,” RJ said softly, rubbing it again as Aaron twitched. “Mmm. Ruler or hand?” Aaron didn’t answer, and RJ leaned closer, “Ruler or hand, baby?”
“Ruler.”
“Hand it is,” RJ said, examining the dark stripes he’d already left and deciding it would be too much for one night. Aaron was in no place to decide for himself.
“But—” Aaron tried to protest, but RJ smacked Aaron’s ass hard.
“You’re on my naughty list, Aaron.”
He moaned and RJ swatted him until Aaron was crying and shaking on the table, rattling it against the hardwood floor. His cock was a furious red and the small puddle of pre-come was growing by the second. The scent of desperation filled the air, and RJ knew it was time.
“Ready, baby? You’re going to come now. Take hold of your cock. Make yourself come.”
Aaron was delirious, but he could follow orders enough to do that. He wormed his hand down and started to squeeze and slide his cock through his fist.
RJ gripped the string holding the anal beads inside and pulled.
Aaron went still and a shout fell from his lips. Come exploded on the floor as the biggest bead shot free and the others came out in quick succession, his asshole grabbing and releasing each one as he came and came.
RJ wished he’d sheathed his cock earlier so he could shove in and come in Aaron’s ass, but he hadn’t. So he simply unloaded on Aaron’s back, the white streaks getting into Aaron’s hair, and slipping down to the table on either side of his shivering haunches.
“Mr. Danvers, you’re so gorgeous,” RJ moaned, working the last drops out onto Aaron’s hip. “Thank you. For giving me all this.”
Aaron shook hard, a combination of tears and exhaustion. RJ tugged him up, held him close, and then helped him to the shower, praising him the whole way.
Later, in bed, with his dick finally, finally buried into Aaron’s trembling ass, he kissed Aaron’s collarbones and whispered to him about the sweetness of his scent, the smooth pleasure of his skin, and the grip of his body around his cock.
Aaron didn’t come again, wrung out for the night, but when RJ came in the condom, pulsing in Aaron’s ass, Aaron whispered, “Thank you. I need this. More than you know.” He swallowed hard and added, like a deflection, “Santa, I mean. Thank you, Santa.”
“RJ. Thank me with my name.”
Aaron closed his eyes, thighs trembling around RJ’s torso. “Thank you, RJ.”
“Merry Christmas, Aaron,” RJ said, kissing his mouth. “You deserve it.”
Aaron whimpered in his sleep, but his arm was still heavy over RJ’s chest and his leg hooked up over RJ’s hip as he snuggled in closer. It figured that Mr. Danvers—fussy, sweet, adorable Mr. Danvers—was a cuddler.
And it figured even more that RJ loved everything about having him in his arms—his warmth, his heartbeat, his breath.
Safer than any hotel room or rented house or tour bus. More like home than anything had been since he was twelve and his father came back from wherever the fuck he’d been and tore their lives open again. But hell if he was going to tell Aaron that. The man was a jackrabbit, and he’d run.
No, he’d keep this moment for himself and store it up against the probability that in the morning Mr. Danvers—Aaron—would send him packing again with a stern lecture about not coming back.
RJ wondered what it would take for Aaron to admit he felt safe cuddled up together too. Probably more than RJ could take the time to give. He wasn’t staying around for long after all. Just until the new year.
This thing with Aaron couldn’t be a real relationship. Not like what Mom and Doug had with the house, kids, and golden retriever. Even that wouldn’t last forever.
But this thing with Aaron could be a thing, couldn’t it? The kind of thing worth coming home to after months on the road. The kind of thing where he got to sometimes see Aaron’s eyes take on that urgent, almost-scared gleam right before he came. The kind of thing that kept him tethered to the earth.
But, in all likelihood, a thing wasn’t what Aaron would want with him. Not that he had a clue what Aaron wanted other than a hard spanking and deep dicking. Though he’d like to find out.
Regardless, tomorrow he was supposed to meet up with Chip at the studio out in Strawberry Plains to play him a song or two and discuss making a demo together.
As of one day ago, and thanks to Aaron, RJ had a new, completed song to play for him. He stared out the windows of the bedroom at the church behind them, and farther across the rooftops in the city. Triangular-shaped Christmas trees glimmered in green, white, and red on the higher buildings and reflected in windows of the buildings all around. White flakes of snow started to fall, flecking the windowpanes and floating by on a breeze.
Aaron drooled on RJ’s chest and snuffled in his sleep. Heart trembling with unexpected affection, RJ dropped a kiss on Aaron’s soft hair. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Right now, he had Mr. Danvers in his arms, where he’d always wanted him. He’d cherish it.
A sweet feeling of comfort descended on him like a gift, and he closed his eyes, drifting off just as Mr. Danvers—his sweet Aaron—began to lightly snore.
Chapter Fifteen
No alarm woke him this time.
It was Constance who brought Aaron round from the deepest, most restful sleep he could remember. He cracked one eye open to find her sitting on his chest, face outrageously close to his, and a rattle in her body that would compete with an extra-strength vibrator in loudness. She kneaded the quilt he’d thrown on the bed last night after he and RJ had left the duvet cover stained with come. It was shoved into a corner, so he’d remember to wash it in the basement tonight.
“She’s pretty into you,” RJ said, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Should I be worried?”
Constance stared at him between slitted eyes with either adoration or loathing, Aaron could never be quite sure which.
“She wants her breakfast.”
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, Constance chirruped like a furry bird, leapt from the bed, and began to stalk between the door and the bedside impatiently.
Aaron sat up and yelped. His asshole was definitely tender today, way beyond the sensitivity of even their first night together.
RJ roused more fully, sitting up too. “You okay?”
Aaron nodded and started to climb from the bed, but his legs ached. He moaned. Fuck, he felt like he’d done power yoga for five days straight and been plowed by the biggest dick in the world while in downward dog. Shit.
“Let me see,” RJ whispered, running a hand down his back. “I may have hurt you.”
“You’re not that big,” Aaron said, denying the truth.
“Get on your stomach,” RJ said in that firm voice he used during sex, and which made Aaron’s toes curl. Whatever resistance he had inside simply melted away. “I’m plenty big, but besides that the anal beads were a lot.”
That was true enough.
Constance meowed in protest, but Aaron did as he was told, a new hard-on starting when RJ knelt between his legs and ran his fingers over the bruises from the ruler.
“Wow.”
“It’s okay. I like it.”
“I like it too,” RJ whispered. “You’re going to have that on your ass for days, Mr. Danvers. How do you feel about that?”
“Good.”
RJ laughed. Then he spread Aaron’s butt cheeks wide, the morning sun from the windows pouring in with plenty of light to illuminate his most private place.
“That’s beautiful,” RJ said. “Perfect. No injury that I can see. Does it hurt inside?”
“I’m okay,” Aaron insisted. “I promise.”
RJ leaned down, nuzzled his ass cheeks, and pressed a kiss to his hole. �
�For the boo-boo.”
Aaron shivered, wishing for a hint of tongue, but RJ didn’t do more. Crawling out of the bed before Aaron could stand up, RJ stretched himself out, all tall and lanky, with strong muscles outlined with morning sun. “I’m going to take a piss. I’ll feed Constance if you want. Where do I find her food?”
“I’ll get it,” Aaron said, rising from the bed with only a little wince. His thighs felt like he’d stretched them beyond endurance, which given the positions they’d screwed in, was entirely possible.
He pulled on his robe.
Constance approached with a twitchy tail, and he leapt out of the trajectory of her paw, just barely missing a swipe that would have taken off some skin. “Fine, you sweet bitch, I’m getting it.”
“Should have named her Patience,” RJ called from within the bathroom where the splash of urine echoed. “For irony.”
Aaron scoffed but thought RJ was onto something when he scraped the second half of Constance’s can of food into her bowl and she just hissed, turned her back, and walked away like he’d put actual shit in her dish.
“You liked it yesterday!” he said, staring after her. “You ate it like it was nectar of the gods. Don’t you hiss at me like that.”
“Your Instagram doesn’t do her bitchiness justice,” RJ said, walking into the kitchen wiping damp hands on his boxers. “It’s all sweet sleeping in the sunshine pics and showing her pretty tummy.”
“Oh, God, if she ever does that? Shows her floofy tummy? Don’t fall for it. It’s a trap. A floof trap.”
“A floof trap?” RJ grinned, heading over to Keurig and turning it on. Aaron hated the waste of all the little disposable cups, but his mother had given the machine to him last Christmas, and he had to admit that it saved so much time in the mornings, and he wasted less coffee too.
