Come Play: An Erotica Charity Anthology

by Quin Perin

  "So, what can I do for you, Steele?" He was so nonchalant that I almost forgot that we'd never even met before. I gaped at him and apparently took too long to answer because he spoke again. "Did you not think I knew who you were?"

  I slowly shook my head. "No, sir."

  He arched an eyebrow at me. Why? I wasn't sure. "I would be an ignorant member if I didn't know that almost all the metal in this place was touched by you."

  "Oh." I blushed and looked away, turning my head to the side. I had forgotten that I helped a lot when the club moved to this new, bigger building to install all the metal works and I made some custom pieces, like the steel cross that was being used earlier. I really didn't think much about the fact that I had or that people knew who I was because of it.

  Hightower gave a light laugh. "Your work is gorgeous. Almost as gorgeous as you are."

  I turned back to him in surprise. "Thank you." I didn't quite know what to say to that. I never thought of myself as gorgeous. I was short and stocky. Muscled sure, but too furry by most standards and I was bald. Granted that was my own doing but since my receding hairline wasn't stopping, I had started shaving my head when I was in my mid-twenties.

  "So, either you wanted to talk to me, or I commandeered you just to make my coffee and am holding you up from perhaps taking part in some fun this evening?" He was patient which was good because apparently, my brain wasn't working as I was lulled by his baritone voice.

  "Yes, sorry." I cleared my throat and scooted forward on the couch so that I was a little more level with him. "I wanted to see if you would be open to negotiating a scene with me."

  "Ah." Hightower drew the sound out as he tilted his head up and then down again. He took a breath and let it out in a hard exhale. "I'm sorry, but no."

  I was stunned. I was pushed back by his words and almost slumped into the couch. I didn't think he'd outright refuse to negotiate with me. I thought maybe we'd find no common ground, or he wouldn't want to because of my inexperience with bottoming to whips. But I didn't expect him to flat out refuse me before discussing it.

  He put his coffee cup down on the table next to us and his foot back down. He leaned forward putting one elbow on his knee and gesturing for me to come closer with the other. I moved to the edge of the couch, and he gripped me by the back of the neck. Embarrassment washed over me as I realized how sweaty I had gotten in just the few minutes I had been there. His grip wasn't overly tight, but it was solid, sure, and his hand easily held my wide neck. He pulled me closer. His breath brushed my cheek, and I smelled coffee and mint on his breath. His lips tickled my ear as he spoke again.

  "There's a level of intimacy that takes place; however temporary it is between top and bottom." His voice was low, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers down my spine. I gripped my knees tightly trying to stay still.

  "Energy flows between the two as each person gives and takes. It doesn't matter how close or how far away they are from each other that power and energy flows. It courses through their bodies making a connection that is unique to just those two people for that moment and even if those two people never see each other again, each will have an imprint of the other on them from the energy that they shared."

  He stood up and released me from his thrall. I looked up and the confusion I was still in must have shown on my face. He leaned over to pick up his cup and straightened. "I'm sorry, Steele, but I've had one too many straight men freak out on me over their body's reactions."

  I opened my mouth to say something. I wasn't sure yet what, but he was already walking away and back into the playroom. His long legs easily eating up the distance with his purposeful stride. I closed my mouth and stood up. It was then that I noticed I was half hard.

  Had he noticed and that's what he was talking about? Did he think I would freak out? It was rare for me to be aroused during play. The pain, depending on the kind, did make me hard sometimes, but I wouldn't feel actual arousal. I was more confused about the fact that for the first time in years I felt the beginnings of arousal because of something someone did to me. I walked towards the entry room to leave, and I was glad that no one was around to see my embarrassment.

  I sent a small wave towards Blaze as I went through the check-in room. I pushed the outer door open, and I heard him say, "Better luck next time."

  The door was already swinging shut when I comprehended what he said. I stopped as it clicked shut behind me and I scrubbed a hand over my head. Fuck! Well, there was only one thing left to do.

  Try again next month.

  Chapter Two - Gavin

  The Second Night

  I sat in the bootblack chair looking out over the whole play space. I could see just about everywhere from here. The DMs often sat here to keep an eye on the scenes. It was still early in the night, so there wasn't much going on. This was the one night of the month that I let myself truly relax. I left all the bullshit of my life at the door and just let myself be. The last month thoughts of Steele plagued my mind.

  I had one scene planned for tonight. Every other month I played with this one submissive. He was older than me in his mid-fifties. I never asked specifically. He was closeted and a widower, but every other month he came here. I knew he didn't live in the area. He comes, I fist his ass while I reaffirm to him that there's nothing wrong with his desires, and then he leaves. I didn't see him again until the next time. He didn't have a profile anywhere that I found, but he came here.

  In that, we were very much alike. We both came here to this oasis of sanity in our otherwise complicated lives and uncomplicated them by having these strict guidelines in which to live, if only for a few hours.

  That oasis was disturbed last month by the intrusion of Steele, otherwise known as Liam DeWitt, blacksmith and metal artist extraordinaire. That man was one very hot masculine specimen of the human species. He wasn't your typical submissive or bottom for that matter. I knew they came in all shapes and sizes, but sometimes we were a product of our own stereotyping. His head was smooth and tanned. His arms were muscled perfection, and his chest and stomach were furred just enough to be tantalizingly delicious. His legs were solid and strong. His stomach had some padding on it which I thought made him hotter than if he had a six-pack. And then there was his ass. Oh, the dear deity of your choice, his ass. That man did not miss a squat day. I was sure of it.

  He was also bearded. I normally didn't like my men to be bearded. I was very much over this whole fad of facial hair everywhere. Half the time it looked like straggled bits of pubes stuck to faces. It was gross. I had no problem licking a hairy asshole into compliance but take a fucking razor to your face. But apparently, my dick didn't apply that rule to Steele. In his defense, his beard could be a work of art of its own. It was thick and sculpted. He obviously took great care of it. It was long but not too long. I could have easily gotten a good handful of his beard and used it to move him where I wanted him.

  It looked soft, too. I imagined more than once this last month about his head in my lap and me just running my fingers through the dark brown beard with his bright blue eyes looking at me. I didn't understand how he was still single. Maybe he was like me and just worked too much and didn’t have time for a regular partner. He surprised the hell out of me by asking for a scene last month. That was the last thing I expected when I saw him enter the play space.

  I knew what he wanted. When I gave the demo last year, I remembered how his face had lit up. I also remembered he didn't come talk to me afterward. I let several people who were curious as to how a whip felt against their skin feel a few strikes, just little ones. He didn't. He left with the woman that he was always with. I thought they were together, but after some inquiry found out that she was only his friend. He did top her sometimes though. That was interesting. I knew from his profile that he was a primal and a switch and clearly a masochist. But nothing in his actions had ever led anyone to think he was anything other than straight. No offense to all the great straight men out there, but I'm too old to m
ess around with men who were just curious. It may sound jaded or unkind of me, but I had to make the most of what little time I had on these nights and worrying over the reactions of a straight guy did not fit in.

  No sooner had the thoughts left my brain did Steele walk in. My eyes lingered on him as he scanned the room and my dick perked up. He was wearing dark jeans again and boots. He was also wearing the same leather bracers, but this time no shirt. Interesting and yes, I liked what I saw. The image before me was so much better than the ones I seen on his profile. His pecs were round and firm. They looked so hard and yet softened by the hair on them. He was definitely a bear. A submissive bear. And my dick needed to calm down because he was coming this way.

  His eyes locked on me and then his legs brought him to me while I wondered how it would feel to have him ride my cock with those powerful legs. He would be so tight too, and I bet that fur was everywhere. I wanted him naked and on his knees.

  Get it together Hightower!

  He was persistent. I had to give him credit for that.

  I was glad that the bootblack chair was so high. It was almost like a throne, but it allowed me to still be higher than him when he approached. I spread my legs just a little bit further apart to give my still hard dick some room. He stopped a few feet away from me and waited until I acknowledged him. He was either trained very well or did some research.

  There were too many schools of thought on the protocol in the lifestyle, but some things are just understood between a dominant and a submissive. Everything that I had seen of his profile read that he wasn't a submissive but rather just a primal who switches a bit between bottom and top. There's nothing wrong with that, but the last time, I saw how his eyes dilated when I gave him an order. It was a bit high-handed of me, but that instant reaction told me more about him than a million profiles could. He may not admit it, but he enjoyed being ordered.

  I fingered him closer, and he moved until he was right next to the chair on my right side. There still weren't too many people here so we could have a low conversation without disturbing anyone.

  "Good evening, Steele." With the conversation started, Steele now had the room to ask what I knew he would ask.

  "Good evening, sir." My cock twitched as the word passed his lips. Last time he had said that it didn't have the slight emphasis that it did now. Most would not be able to tell the difference, but I heard, and I knew how he meant it. He took my silence as his queue to continue. "May I, please, speak with you about doing a scene, sir?"

  "Serve me tonight, and at the end of the night, we'll talk." It could be considered bad form by some to illicit service in such a way, but I had to know what would happen if I pushed him a bit.

  "Will you, please, define serve, sir?"

  Wow, that was a very smart question to ask. Most would have just said, “Yes,” without any thought as to what it may entail. And while my officers didn't even Sir me this much, I liked how the word sounded from his lips. I normally would have found it annoying, but tonight, from him, it made me harder. "You'll kneel by my side. You'll get drinks or lube or whatever I need tonight. I do have a scene later, and while you don't have to participate, I expect you nearby in case I need anything during it. Any questions?"

  "Do you want me to suck your dick while I'm at it, sir?"

  Yes! There was the man I knew was there. He almost spat out the sir that time. While I liked him submissive and my dick liked his words, I didn't like the simpering he was doing. I knew he wasn't serious, but let's see how far he'll push it. "Yes, at the end of the night that will finish things off nicely. Thank you for offering."

  I waited for him to say he wasn't serious and back out of it, but he didn't. He stiffened and then nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Go get one of the kneeling pads and come back. When you do, kneel on my other side." He inclined his head and went to the side shelves to grab one of the thick pads that could be used for numerous things. He came straight back and put it to the left side of me as instructed. I was too high up for me to comfortably put my hand on his head like I wanted to.

  "Move forward a little bit." He did so. "Good. Now, wrap your hand around my ankle." He looked up at me questionably, but then put his right hand around my left ankle. "Good boy."

  The grip on my ankle tightened at my words and then relaxed. I looked at my watch and set a timer for thirty minutes. I had an hour before Phil would be here.

  Able came and we chatted for a few minutes while he made his rounds. He ignored Steele at my feet and only gave me a raised eyebrow once he wasn't in the line of sight of Steele. I gave him a small shrug and a we'll see look. He and I had been best friends since high school. He knew what the hell I'd gone through before with a straight guy and so I knew he was wary. I was too, but something in my gut told me to keep pushing him. Thankfully, I listened to my gut and not my dick because my dick told me to bend him over the nearest surface and plow into his virgin ass. My dick twitched in agreement with my thoughts.

  My watch buzzed on my wrist, and in the whole time, Steele hadn't moved much. I knew he looked around and watched scenes take place, which was fine, and the whole time he kept his hand on my ankle. I'm not too proud to admit that I liked it. I probably liked it too much.

  I leaned over and put my hand on his head. He jerked in surprise and leaned into my touch. I wondered if he was just meditative or if he was slipping a bit into a submissive headspace, not subspace exactly but something similar. I took a minute to just run my hand lightly over his head. It was smooth, recently shaved. You could see where his hairline started, and it was a shame he lost so much so early. The look suited him, but I wondered what he looked like when he was younger. I knew he was only about ten years younger than me, so he had to of started losing his hair very prematurely.

  I splayed my fingers around the top of his head and pressed a little bit and then let go. "Good boy. You can let go now." His hand fell away from my ankle, and I already missed it. I stood up and stretched my legs.

  "Go return the pad and then come back here." He nodded and moved to do as I ordered. I untucked the back of my shirt from my slacks in preparation for his return. He came back and stood to the side of me again, and I turned to face him. I ran my hand over the back of his head and down his neck. I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "You are so very tempting."

  My lips brushed his ear, and I felt the tremor that ran through his body. I pulled back and took his left hand. I hooked it into the back of my slacks. "Keep your hand there."

  I adjusted my stride to make his smaller steps more comfortable, and we exited the play area into the break room. I walked down the little hall to the bathrooms. I opened the door and started to step in. Steele let his hand fall as he stopped in his tracks. I looked back at him. "Did I tell you to let go?"

  He opened his mouth to what I was sure was going to be a protest, but then he closed it again and put his hand back. I loved the feel of his touch on my skin. His hands weren't smooth. They were rough from his work, but they felt good. I wanted to know what his hands felt like on my cock and balls and his callused thumb brushed over my head.

  I stepped fully into the bathroom and undid my belt and pants. My cock was hard, and I started thinking about crime scenes to get it down. Even though my pants were loose, Steele didn't move his hand from touching my back. That made me smile as I took out my cock and let my bladder go. Steele shuffled as I finished but kept his hand on me. I bent down and took a tissue to dab off my head and then threw it in the toilet and flushed. I turned around to the sink with my dick still out and turned the water on.

  "If you need to go, now is the time. You won't have any other chance for the next ninety minutes." I put a paper towel down under my dick and leaned in to put some water on it. Steele left my back, and I heard his zipper. I looked in the mirror as his jeans dipped a little bit. I froze. Hot pink straps cupped his ass. I continued to watch him, and dear deity of the month, his ass is fine.

  He leaned over and grabbed som
e tissue too, his jeans slipping just a little further. He was either as fastidious about the cleanliness of his cock, or he's just doing what he thinks I expect. I didn't care either way. I finished rinsing off my cock and my hands, drying them and getting everything put away and cleaned up. Steele waited until I was done, cock in hand. I moved to the side and let him clean himself.

  I took this time to ogle his very nice uncircumcised cock. When he was done, he tucked it back into the hot pink jock and zippered his pants again. I didn’t know how I missed the band that I could now clearly see. I lamented the fact that he was wearing pants and turned to open the door. Steele cleaned up and threw away the paper towels and then hooked his left hand back into my pants.

  I was fully hard again.

  I went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water, handing them to him. His hands were big enough to hold two, but not three. I pulled out another one, and he looked at me with narrowed eyes. I really wondered how much he was cursing me out in his head. I held out the third bottle, and he held it against his chest with the other bottles with one hand. He had some protection from the chill of the bottles with his chest hair, but his nipples still hardened. I smiled innocently at him. I didn't think he was fooled.

  I took us back into the play space and by the storage racks. I picked up the small duffle bag I brought with me for Phil's scene. I walked to the far side room where there was a swing set up. I put down the bag next to the swing.

  "Put the waters down there." I pointed next to the bag. "And go get two of the stools from against the wall." There were several stools on wheels that adjusted height like you would see in doctors' offices. Steele walked to the wall and picked up two stools and then came back. Watching Steele in his workshop one day was now on my list of things I needed to see Steele do. Those muscles were not made in a gym so I couldn't picture him in one, but his workshop swinging a hammer bending metal to his will—that was an image worthy of jacking off to.