by Viva Gold
“Don’t be shy, Jonah,” he teased me back, tugging on the hem of my t-shirt. I grinned at him as I whipped it off. He placed his palms on my pecs before leaning forward to inhale deeply at my throat. “Hmm. I wish I could bottle your scent.”
I chuckled. Our adoration was openly mutual.
I switched on the shower to hot but not scalding, mindful of the instructions from the doctors. I didn’t want Elvis passing out on me.
“As much as I’d love to take my time in here, I don’t think the steamy atmosphere is good for your head.” I tested the water before gently pulling Elvis into the shower cubicle. The glass doors were drenched in condensation making the area feel like we were cut off from the rest of the world. I liked it. Reaching for Elvis’s shower gel, I instructed him to stand still while I washed him down. I knew all of his ticklish spots of course, so that wasn’t going to happen because I couldn’t resist making him laugh. When I shampooed his hair, however, the noises he made were entirely not giggly. The moans of pleasure were causing me to become dangerously aroused and if it wasn’t for the fact our dinner was soon to be arriving and that Elvis was still recovering from the bang on his head, I would have bent him over in the shower, lubed his hungry hole, and fucked him six ways ‘til Sunday.
“God, I’m stuffed!” Elvis clutched his tummy.
“Me too,” I groaned. I’d ordered Chinese take-away which we ate at the kitchen counter dressed only in our fluffy white terry robes.
“Why did we eat so much? Jonah, I have a blue bunny outfit to get into in a couple of weeks.” Elvis began packing away the containers.
I gathered up the rubbish, ordering him to stay seated, and chucked it all away. Wiping over the counter tops before making us coffee, I encouraged him to tell me more about the plans for Easter at the Kent Outlet Mall.
“It sounds like you have everything very well organised,” I praised him. “I don’t know what you hope to find in the stores here that is any different to at home.”
Elvis sat up straighter and crossed his legs. I was worried he’d topple off the bar stool, but he seemed fairly stable. I noticed how his robe fell away to just beneath his balls, taunting me with the explicit view. I swallowed trying to concentrate on the task at hand. I took a gulp of wine.
“Can’t I just have one sip?” Elvis whinged, knowing full well the answer would be a resounding no. I shook my head. “Spoil sport.” He hurried on, not letting me interrupt. “The displays here seem to be so much more fun. I was hoping to be inspired, that’s all.”
“And so, you shall be,’ I declared. “We’ll go tomorrow instead.” Elvis did a little happy jiggle which was all it took for his robe to fall away completely leaving him pretty much naked on the stool. With his hair wrapped up in some kind of white turban thing, he looked entirely delectable.
“Oh dear,” he pouted playfully. “I seem to be nude.” He ducked his head and batted his lashes at me seductively. He arched his back and began playing with his nipples. It was shockingly provocative, the way he was putting himself on display for me. I was rooted to the spot, frozen in place. Captivated by my coquettish husband. The lights were already dim and the heat was up; the atmosphere charged.
Without breaking eye contact, or ceasing his nipple play, Elvis slowly spread his legs. I heard the back of the stool creak slightly with the movement, but otherwise, my focus was entirely on the sexy minx in front of me.
Dropping one hand from his chest, Elvis cupped his balls. My eyes tracked his elegant fingers as they teased each sac; rolling, squeezing, rubbing. His breath was coming a little faster.
“Elvis,” I asked a little bit anxiously, “do you think you should?” I was worried his head would suffer.
“I should,” he replied huskily. “Oh, I definitely should.” He dropped his balls to stroke his erect penis. It was more of a caress the way he delicately touched himself. I gawped as his shaft bobbed and strained seemingly begging for a stronger touch. We hadn’t explored edging much past me making him beg to come, but I always gave in, bringing him to orgasm as soon as he asked. This however, was deeply erotic to witness. The rise and fall of his chest as his breath hitched with every flutter of his fingers over the wet head, that was gradually turning a gorgeous shade of red. I licked my lips desperate to lick at the beads of pre-come seeping from his slit, and I realised with startling clarity, that I was as much on edge as he was.
“Elvis,” I rasped. I took a step towards him, but he shook his head.
“Stay there, Jonah.” I swallowed at his command. My legs felt like jelly. My erection was straining obscenely through the gap in my robe. I grabbed at my dick, tugging on it for some badly needed friction.
“Don’t touch it!” Elvis cried.
“Whaaaa?” I whined.
“I want you to watch me; to feel what I am feeling, but not allowing yourself the relief you so obviously desire.”
“Why?” I choked out.
“Because it turns me on.”
His declaration made my cock swell harder. I groaned with frustration, obeying his command not to touch. Instead I tried to focus my attention on how fucking wanton Elvis looked splayed out over the stool, playing with himself to the point of distraction. He wasn’t exactly submissive when it came to our sex life, but he rarely took the initiative like he was doing so now. It turned me on, too.
Letting his legs drop to either side of the stool, I stared completely mesmerised as he trailed his long fingers up and down the insides of his thighs. It made him shudder delectably. He shrugged off the robe, letting it fall from his shoulders leaving it hanging on his arms as if it was somehow framing him. It looked slutty and totally hot. The turban made him look like an exotic, erotic version of himself, and the sultry expression on his face merely amplified that impression. His lips were plump and wet. His eyes hooded; his cheeks flushed.
“Elvis, please can I touch myself, I need…”
My words trailed off as he smiled coyly at me before popping his right index finger into his mouth. His lips clamped around it as he sucked. He pulled the wet digit almost all the way out before pushing it all the way back in. He repeated the action over and over until his finger was sloppy with saliva. I realised I’d stopped breathing and heaved a deep intake of air. My cock was so hard I was convinced it would break if it swelled any further. Beads of pre-come dripped from the tip creating a tiny puddle of cream at my feet. I moaned loudly as Elvis removed his glistening finger from between his lips and lowered it to his groin. He thrust his hips forward slightly then lifted his legs, planting his feet on the edge of the kitchen counter. His needy hole was exposed to me. My mouth watered.
“Watch me, Daddy,” Elvis purred. “I’m going to finger myself, then if you’re very good, I’m going to let you lick my hole and eat me out.”
“Fuck!” I gasped. It was my favourite thing to do to him and he knew it. I loved the way he tasted; the way he writhed beneath my mouth. “Oh fuck,” I swore again as Elvis reached down to tease his pucker with the wet pad of his finger tip. I actually saw it spasm as he rubbed the sensitive area.
“Oh, Jonah,” he breathed. “Feels so good.”
“Let me touch you. Please, Elvis.” I wasn’t beyond begging when the smorgasbord of sexual treats that was my husband, was just beyond my reach. The boundaries he’d put up were like physical barriers that I wouldn’t breach until he gave me permission. It felt like the punishment I knew I deserved, but resented all the same.
Half his finger disappeared into his body. Elvis let out a quiet huff as he pushed the rest of his finger in. I noticed a slight wince of discomfort and guessed no matter how sloppy his finger had been, it wasn’t as slick as lube. My mind spun. I didn’t want to have to return to our bedroom to get some for fear of missing a moment of the live sex show going on in my kitchen, but neither did I want Elvis to be in any pain. I thought for a moment until an idea hit me. I reached into a nearby cupboard and produced a bottle of one hundred percent virgin olive oil. It was a
premium brand.
“Use this,” I told Elvis. He arched an eyebrow at me offering me his hand, palm up. I drizzled a healthy amount onto his fingers which he let drip down the length of his hand almost to his wrist. Flashing me a lewd grin he resumed fucking himself on his fingers. Now, I’d have the taste of the olive oil mixed with Elvis’s unique flavour, but I didn’t mind. I was hungry for it.
If anyone could see us now, they’d have no doubt that big, bad Jonah Kent was gagging for a taste of his boy, but for once, Elvis was in full control. The dominant in me strained to break through this rare exchange of power, yet it was strangely appealing to be at someone else’s mercy for a change. Elvis was the only man alive capable of making me feel this way as he was the only person in the entire world that I trusted, one hundred per cent. Nico came a close second, but I didn’t want to fuck my PA, not anymore anyway. A half-grin tilted my mouth at my lascivious musing.
“Hey!” Elvis caught my attention. “Don’t be thinking too hard about anything that isn’t right here in front of you.” He must have noticed my mind wandering. He grasped both inner thighs and squeezed causing his dick to bob in the air. “Wanna taste?”
“Oh God, yes,” I answered, like the needy bitch I was.
He pointed his finger at me.
“On your knees, big boy, and lose the robe.” With a frown, I shrugged off the robe and sank to the floor. I winced as the hard wood jarred my knees. Elvis narrowed his eyes at me. “Looks like you made a bit of a mess there.” He pointed to the puddle of pre-come suggestively. I took the hint. With a smirk, I lowered my head to the floor and licked it clean. I heard Elvis make some kind of gurgled noise that I hoped meant his cock appreciated my wanton display. I licked my lips and made to get up.
‘Nope — stay right where you are. I want to see you on your hands and knees for me, Jonah Kent.” I obliged willingly, because a bossy Elvis was beyond hot!
“Now crawl.” He crooked his finger again in a come-hither motion. I gave him a smile full of lust and abject desire. When I was sure I had his full attention, I arched my back sending my butt high and in agonisingly slow motion crawled across the floor to him.
Glancing at Elvis, his expression was full of awe and disbelief that I was actually conceding his command. However, if he thought I had submitted myself to him, he had much to learn. I found his act of dominance inordinately arousing, especially as I knew it was merely that; an act. I suspected that were I to push him on it, he’d flail about until I took control as I always did. But this was too much fun and was making me insanely horny. My adorable husband should know by now that I would do almost anything to make him happy; dressing as Bo Peep aside. Nope, no way — still not doing that.
I reached Elvis. I sat up on my knees, placing hot palms to his thighs, relishing his sharp intake of breath. I could tell he was already faltering. “Tell me what you want,” I offered in the deep, husky tone I knew drove Elvis crazy. His hand flew to his chest.
“I, I need, oh God, I mean, I want you to umm…” He closed his eyes and took a breath before blurting out, “Lick my cock!”
I gave him a half-grin as I leaned forward and stuck out my tongue. I dragged it from the base of his cock to the very tip, to which I delivered a chaste kiss. Sitting back on my heels, I gave him another grin.
“Like that?” I asked him. He nodded eagerly, then remembering I was supposed to be waiting for direction he fired off another sexy command.
“Do it again, but use your whole mouth this time.”
Elvis gripped the sides of the stool as if bracing himself. I chuckled before making an ‘o’ with my mouth and going down on him. I swallowed him whole, then proceeded to blow him using all of my finely-honed fellatio skills. Elvis writhed beneath me so much that I was worried he’d fall off his seat. I clamped my hands down on his thighs to keep him in place while my lips and tongue sent him into the stratosphere.
“Oh God, Joe. Just like that. Holy shit! Yes. Twisty tongue, tip, slit, thingy…gahhh!”
Elvis’s fingers tugged on my hair as he arched his hips forward, fucking my mouth as much as he could from his position pinned to my bar stool. His lithe body strained as his cock swelled between my lips. Moments later, he screamed out my name as his orgasm slammed into him. Hot semen flooded my throat and I swallowed every last, delicious drop.
“Shit, Joe, that was so hot.” Elvis released his grip on my hair. My stinging scalp was grateful. “I feel as limp as a noodle.” His arms and legs dangled towards the floor. “D’ya wanna fuck me?”
I released his cock with a lewd wet sound. Climbing to my feet, I tried not to groan at my sore knees.
“Yeah, I want to fuck you.”
Fair warning given, I grabbed Elvis around the waist and threw him over the kitchen counter face first. Slapping his bare arse with one hand, I poured olive oil onto my cock with the other. Lining up the tip with his tight little hole, I thrust into him.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
“Fuck!” I screamed. He was hot and tight, despite the prep he’d given himself. “Are you ok?” I checked with him.
“Ok; I’m ok. Do me, Daddyyyyyyy.”
I grunted, withdrawing then ramming back into him hard. It only took a few more thrusts before I was coming inside of my slutty blue-eyed boy, feeling like I was King of the World.
“Well, that was different,” Elvis stated the bloody obvious. We had returned to the bathroom where we were currently neck deep in bubbles. I sat at one end of the bath and he was at the other facing me. Our legs were entwined. Or at least two of them were. Elvis was using one of his feet to massage my balls.
“Indeed,” I drawled. My eyes were closed, my head leaned back on the edge of the bath.
“Did you like it?” Elvis giggled. “Me being your master.”
I opened one eye to glance at him briefly. Dropping my head back, I chuckled. “I think it was fairly evident that I did, in fact, enjoy being bossed around by you, Mr Bossy McBossiness.” Elvis giggled again. “But don’t get used to it.”
“Well, I liked it for once, but I don’t think our dynamic is in anyway damaged Mr Dommy McDominess.”
We both laughed at our silliness. I was filled with much relief that we’d gotten over our awkward spell, but I knew we needed to talk about it to fully clear the air.
“I am truly sorry for behaving like such a fuckwit, Elv. I love you so much, it sometimes clouds my ability to react rationally. I promise to try and be a bit more reasonable next time I discover something about you that irks me.”
“You say that with a worrying amount of certainty.” Elvis flicked bubbles at me. “That I’m bound to displease you in the future.” His frown made me feel bad again.
“That’s not what I meant. Well, it is sort of. But this is you we’re talking about. I feel pretty sure there are still a few surprises out there.” Elvis’s foot pressed down on my junk with a little bit too much pressure than was pleasurable, causing me to hiss. “Ok. Ok. Whatever, if ever, I’ll deal with it better, I promise.”
Elvis slid under the water only to re-emerge covered in bubbles. He straddled my lap, holding my shoulders in order not to slip away. My cock nestled comfortably in the crack of his peachy arse cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss to my lips. A weight lifted off me at his words.
“Thank you,” I replied, giving him a kiss back. “I needed to hear that.”
“Let’s make a pact to go on a date night at least once every month where all we do is talk about personal stuff. Not work. Ok?”
It seemed like a very sensible suggestion. Working together inevitably meant we took the job home with us. Judging by my recent explosion over something Elvis really should have already shared with me was a wakeup call to the state of our relationship. We weren’t making enough time for our personal health and wellbeing and that needed to change immediately.
“That is a fantastic idea. We’ll definitely do that. Let Nico know to block out the dates in advance
and that they cannot be re-scheduled from my diary under any circumstances.”
Elvis looked pleased. He slithered closer plastering his wet chest to mine and we lay in the warm water for a little while simply relaxing. I was just dozing off when Elvis began to play with my chest hair. I knew this to be a precursor for him to verbalise whatever he’d been mulling over mentally. I braced myself.
“So, you know the party…”
“No. Do not go there again. Bo Peep is off the menu.”
Elvis huffed. “Umm, ok, no party talk. Well, what about the lace thing. Is it too soon to be talking about that?”
“Go on,” I encouraged him.
“Yay!” Elvis sat up with a jolt to my cock. It made me jerk and we slid around for a bit before I had the chance to grab the side of the bath to steady ourselves. Elvis giggled. “We’re all wibbly wobbly, Joe!”
“Feels like your arse wibbled all over my wobble.” I bucked my hips so that my hard on slapped against his butt cheeks. Elvis reached behind him to give it a squeeze.
“Ooh. Someone’s all slick and solid.”
I held his waist. “I can’t help it. You’re nice and wet in all the right places. My cock appreciates you.”
Elvis arched an eyebrow. He gripped my shoulder with one hand, the other still behind him. Then the little minx lifted and impaled himself on my cock. When his bottom hit my thighs, I remembered to take a breath.
“Fuck!” I cursed loudly. “You feel fantastic.”
“I’m glad I got myself ready for you earlier.”
“Don’t you need more lube?” I was all for rough sex, but I didn’t want him to be sore. Not that there was even time to discuss the matter as Elvis began to bounce on my cock with fervour. I clenched my abs for balance, trying not to slide on the bottom of the bath, but it was hopeless. Elvis’s enthusiasm got the better of us and we toppled sideways sending a wave of bubbly bathwater over the side, splashing all over the floor. I tried to grip Elvis’s waist, but he was slick from the soapy suds, evading my grip. His head went under and I ended up on top of him scrambling for the edge of the bath. Miraculously, my cock remained happily nestled in Elvis’s arse until I reared back on my haunches to haul him out of the water onto my lap. I grabbed a towel so I wouldn’t lose my grip again, and managed to pull the plug out.
