Songs of Love : Books 1-3

by M J Calabrese

  “Awe, babe, where’s your sense of adventure.” He grinned as he reached up and took my hand, following me upstairs.

  I almost fucked him in the hall when he whirled me around, pinning me against the wall. His kisses always set me on fire. Finally, some semblance of sanity took over and I dragged him into my bedroom. I thought it was sexy when I ripped his shirt off, but his weak protest about my wanton destruction and about how much the shirt cost told me it didn’t matter.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” I promised as I shoved him down onto the bed. The jock strap went the way of all the other clothes. Finding its spot on the floor.

  It took him seconds to get on his hands and knees. The boy had always been eager, but this was a new record for him.

  “Haven’t had sex in a while?” I reached between his legs, toying with his balls, rolling them between my fingers. Dylan’s back arched as I squeezed them a little harder.

  “It’s been a few months.”

  “Scoot up and grab the headboard.”

  What I had planned would make him very happy, but he needed to have something to hold onto. He, again, did as he was told. My husband was into being dominated. He loved it, but sometimes he acted out trying to get me to hurry. Spanking has several different flavors. For him, he needed absolution. He’d come to me begging for it. Dylan wanted me back. He’d wanted that since the night of his infidelity seven years ago. I had already decided I would allow him back in my life, but it would be on my terms. Trust was earned.

  He looked back at me. Eyebrows raised. Curious as to what was taking me so long. He was going to get what he wanted tonight, but this wasn’t about him. I ran my hand over his slightly hairy ass. Soft, downy, blond hairs tickled my skin. I loved the shape of his muscled buttocks. Both in and out of clothes, he was rounded and firm. I used to love to pinch him and make him squirm. I ran a finger down the center of his crack. I could hear him gasp as he pushed back, urging me deeper, but I didn’t take the bait. I wasn’t ready, not yet anyway.

  Turning my hand, I cupped his generous sized balls. His testicles hung heavy and mobile in my warm hand. He groaned, slapping the headboard with his hand.

  “Come on, Heywood. Fuck! Too much.”

  “No. You can’t come until I tell you to.”

  “Fuck!”

  “I know you want it. Just be patient. I have a surprise for you.” I finished taunting him with a quick run up his shaft. My fingers tracing the engorged veins. His moans and trembling told me he was too close.

  I stepped away from him, but my body fought it. I had waited so long to be with the man who was a perfect fit for me. That night I let my anger and pride blind me to the fact that I’d suspected his infidelities long before I actually caught him in the act. I opened the drawer to my night stand and pulled out a condom and tube of lube. Stripping my belt from my trousers, I took my time unzipping them and letting them drop to the floor. I took the belt in my right hand, slapping it lightly over my left palm. Time and new experiences had given me a whole new set of skills.

  “Both hands on the headboard, now!” Both of his hands gripped tightly.

  The first blow landed dead center. He groaned, but didn’t try to move away. Again, I hit him, followed by three more. The thin, red welts cut a crisscross pattern on his pale skin. His erection had flagged a bit with the first blow, but as more and more strikes targeted his ass, he regained lost ground. Again and again he took what I gave him. His head hung low between his outstretched arms. Sweat was beginning to pour off his back. Each breath, hitching in his throat. I knew if I had been able see his face, there would be tears. I threw my shoulder into the last two blows, ending his penance and making him cum. His orgasm exploding from his body. He raised his head and cried out. He trembled so violently, I thought he would fall. When my cool hand gently caressed the soft, red skin I heard him whisper, “Thank you, thank you. I love you, Hey. Forever. Thank you.”

  The pain and the tears gave him the absolution he sought, but the rest would be for me.

  “Stay on your knees.” My hand used his sore ass as a place to balance myself as I climbed up on the bed behind him. Seeing him like this, so beautiful in his submission to me. I quickly rolled the condom onto my swollen cock. Adding lube to the condom and to his hole, I didn’t stretch him. He’d struggle with the pain of the initial penetration, but I knew he’d enjoy it. Taking the belt I’d used to mete out his long overdue punishment, I put it around his neck. Slipping the thin leather through the buckle, I didn’t tighten it.

  “Please.” He begged. “Please take me. Use me. Love me.”

  Pressing my sheathed cock against the entrance to his body, I slowly began to push in. Dylan moaned, then gasped as the head stretched him. He knew better than to push back. This wasn’t easy for me either. The tightness and the heat threatened to make me end too soon. I loved the sounds he made as I pulled back, then slide forward hard and fast, giving him a bit of what he wanted. Pulling almost all of the way out of his ass, I slammed back into him. His back dipped as he groaned loudly. He shook his head, sweat soaked hair scattering droplets on the pillows. God, how I missed this. Dylan was perfect for me. I was perfect for him. Since that day he rescued me from Mason Collins, this is where we were meant to be. Pre-destined to complete one another. One heart. One soul.

  I grabbed the free end of the belt, pulling back on it. “Let go of the headboard.”

  He rose up, riding down on my cock as he did. I tightened the belt, wrapping it around my hand as he straightened. I controlled him. Choking him ever so slightly. Not too much, just enough.

  “You know what to do.” I licked his ear as his head fell back, resting on my shoulder. His body began to move. Hips undulating as he forced me deeper and deeper into his ass. I twisted the thin, leather tighter. Reaching down, I wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking it until it returned to its full glory.

  “Do you want me to make you come again, greedy boy? Huh? I can do that, if you want it.”

  “Yesss.”

  Over and over, I guided him with the belt around his neck. His movements and my own quickly becoming more and more erratic. I felt my balls tightening as my breath came out in short puffs. Holding on to my control until the last second, pulling the belt tighter, his face reddened, engorged with blood. The veins popping out at his temples and neck. Each breath rasping in his throat as he tried to breathe. Dylan’s hands reached back, not flailing, but grabbing me, pulling me close. My other hand took hold of his cock. One stroke, then another. Strands of cum shot from the head of his shaft as I gave him his orgasm, again. The virginal sixteen year old had come a long way.

  Pulling him back, I bit hard into his shoulder. He tried to gasp, but the leather restraint took his breath away. One more deep thrust and I came inside him hard. The sound of blood rushing past my ears drowned out everything else. I felt his body jerk as he struggled for air. Kissing his neck. I let go of him.

  Dylan dropped down, barely catching himself with his arms, as my cock fell from him. He grabbed the belt, loosening it. Gasping and coughing at first, but as he caught his breath, he began to laugh.

  “Oh, babe! I have missed you. No one else would do that to me. They were too scared. I haven’t come like that in ages.”

  I tied a knot in the rubber and tossed the condom toward the waste can in the corner. Unfortunately, I missed. Falling to the side, I dragged my husband with me. “Come here.”

  Dylan scooted back, playing little spoon to my big spoon. I gently released the belt from around his neck and fingered the red stripe where it sat a moment ago. I knew he’d be bruised tomorrow. The bite on his shoulder needed to be cleaned and a dab of antibiotic to keep it from getting infected. I would take care of him. He knew that. I’d ice his sore bottom and put ointment on the sheet burns he was bound to have on his knees. For now, though, we’d rest then hit the shower. Before any of that could happen, we heard the doorbell ring.

  “Fuck!” I reached for my pants, but Dylan, w
ith only a grin and the top sheet wrapped around his waist, darted down the hall.

  “Dylan, no!” I could just see the delivery guy’s face. I liked that restaurant and after catching sight of post-coital Dylan Greig, I’d never get delivery service again.

  He was faster than me as I struggled to pull on my pants as I ran after him. I made it to the living room just in time to see him throw open the door.

  “What do we owe you?”

  Eric stiffened. His eyes quickly taking in the marks and bruises on Dylan’s body. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Dylan knew exactly who the younger man was. He’d caught a glimpse of a photograph beside the bed. “I’m the husband and you are?” He decided to play dumb.

  I groaned, shoving my wallet back in my pocket. “Eric, I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  Eric pushed past Dylan to confront me head on. I crossed my arms and waited.

  “I came back because I had second thoughts about leaving you. I came back to give you another chance.”

  I could see Dylan trying to tuck his sheet tighter around his waist, but he didn’t bother to hide the smirk on his face.

  “Thank god you didn’t use your key. You’d’ve gotten an eye full a few minutes ago.” Dylan couldn’t help himself.

  Before I could react, Eric stormed toward Dylan. Grabbing the sheet from around his waist, he stripped him bare. Throwing the sheet to the side, he pointed at his rival. “Is this what you want? This…, this…, sick pervert. What did he make you do to him? Look at him!” He turned back to me.

  I cocked my head, grinning. I strolled over to Dylan and circled him. I touched the mark on his neck, caressed the shoulder I’d bitten. “I’d say he looks perfect. He likes what I do to him and I enjoy giving it to him. You never did like anything I wanted to do, Eric. Now I have my playmate back and I’m keeping him.”

  I reached down, snatched the sateen cloth from the floor and returned Dylan’s sheet to him. He took it, but he didn’t bother covering his body with it. Naked and bold, he stepped into Eric’s personal space. He stood three inches taller, using his muscular body to intimidate this intruder.

  “Go away, little boy. Find someone else to blackmail. Heywood and I are together until death do us part, fuck head.” Dylan stepped closer. “I’m never going to divorce him and he’ll never divorce me. He loves me, asshole, not you.”

  Eric looked over at me. I could see in his eyes he wanted me to tell Dylan he was wrong, but Dylan wasn’t wrong. I could never give my husband up. I needed him as much as I needed the air to breathe. It’d taken me seven years to come to that realization, but now I was certain where the future lay.

  “I’ll pay you what we agreed when I get the appraisal back in writing. Remember you signed an NDA and a contract this morning. Any word of this gets out, I’ll know who it came from and I’ll sue your ass. Dylan Greig is my husband…,” I looked the man I loved in the eye. “until death do us part.”

  “You, two deserve each other.” Eric huffed as he turned. As he left the house, he shoved the Chinese delivery guy out of his way, just as I shoved Dylan toward the kitchen. I greeted the man with a smile and a huge tip. Again, I hadn’t had the time to wash my hands. Closing the door, we both began to laugh.

  Chapter Eight

  Putting the food in the fridge, we chose a joint shower over eating at the moment. We took our time. Remembering and rejoicing in each other’s touch. I kissed him like I was in danger of never seeing him again. So many thoughts were running through my mind. So many insecurities about how we could make this work again. As he held me in his arms, warm water cascading down our clean bodies, I just felt myself let go. I sighed, giving into my exhaustion, allowing him to hold me. Letting him murmur sweet endearments into my ear. Encouraging him as he dropped to his knees. I loved it as he took my cock in his mouth and sucked me into oblivion.

  Eventually the water grew cold and we were forced, reluctantly, to get out. I left him to dry off as I changed the sheets and tossed a soft, downy duvet on the bed. He came out with towel dried hair and a gentle smile. He looked so beautiful. Well fucked and with a maturity he’d never had when we were together. I held up the edge of the duvet and motioned for him to get in.

  Curled up around one another, arms and legs tangled, we laid like this for hours as we fell in and out of sleep. The light in the room changed. Ebbing as night took charge of day. Dylan rested his head on my arm, his fingers entwined with mine. I listened to his quiet snoring. Felt the familiar movement of a foot that never stayed still. My free hand stroked his soft hair, smelling my own shampoo. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep. I woke slowly to the blue eyes I’d missed for so many years. He was staring at me. Just watching as I came to my senses.

  “Good morning.” He smiled.

  “Morning.” I returned the look. I let my hand cup the side of his face, taking him all in. It still seemed like a dream. My hand moved over his shoulder, down his arm to trace to planes of his hip. I didn’t hesitate to wrap my hand around his fully erect cock. “I need you this morning.”

  His smile broadened, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “On your back.”

  He was quick to do as I asked, and I went with him. Resting on top of him, cocks aligned and trapped between us, I began to rock. Slowly at first, then I picked up the pace. I watched Dylan, his eyes closed, his cheeks getting that pink blush they always got when he was aroused. His breath quickening. I raised up, straight armed, keeping our lower bodies held tight together. My toes digging into the soft bedding as I pushed forward. My thrusts getting longer and more forceful. I knew what he wanted. I knew how he felt. Dylan opened his eyes. “More, Hey. Please. You know what I want. Please.”

  I bent my arms and lay flat on him. My entire weight holding him in place. I slid my hands along his arms, delighting in the soft pale hair on his forearms. He turned his palms up, lacing his fingers with mine. I continued to rock, but as I did I brought his arms up with mine until they were perpendicular to his body. Dylan whimpered. I knew it wasn’t enough to bring him off. Just enough to frustrate him, but that’s what I wanted. A needy Dylan was a compliant Dylan.

  “Don’t move. You move, I stop.”

  Dylan nodded. I retraced my movements. First drawing my arms in, then slowly sliding my body down his. As my mouth reached his cock, I tasted the first drop of precum as it leaked from him. I needed this. I wanted this. When we first started having sex as teens, he took the lead. Simple fact was he knew more than I did. He taught me what he liked. How to suck his cock. How to fuck him. He led, but he grew restless and petulant with this role.

  I remember the night all that changed. We’d been to an after-shoot party. Drugs and alcohol flowed freely. Dylan always did more than I did. After living with my Dad, I was more cautious about not wanting to be like him. That night, Dylan treated everyone he encountered like a he was too good for them. He was loud and rude. Actually shoving people out of his way. It hit some sort of switch in me. Here was my father in the making and I was newly married to him. I saw him head for me from across the room. I knew that look so well. He was wanting a fight. Not just a screaming match, but I wasn’t going to play that game.

  I turned and walked toward the grounds of the house. I knew he’d follow, and he did. I stayed ten paces ahead of him as he shouted my name, calling me his bitch and worse. He never got a chance to swing at me. I was the clearer headed one and my martial arts skills matched his. I had him on the ground in a second with my knee planted in the center of his chest. As I pressed down with all my weight, he cursed at me and I slapped him.

  “You don’t ever speak to me like that, Dylan, ever!”

  “Why you….” He didn’t get the rest out because I slapped him again harder, leaving a bright red handprint forming on the side of his face. He started to struggle and I pressed more of my weight onto his breastbone. I knew it had to hurt, but he seemed determined to strike back. His right hand came up, but I blocked him and sl
apped him again with my free hand, even harder this time. He cursed and spit at me. I knew this had to end here or I’d have to leave him. I pressed his left shoulder down and with my right open palm I slapped him again, hard and then again, his head rocking to the side with each blow. I knew I could’ve used my fist and knocked him out, but that wasn’t the point. He needed to be taught a lesson.

  He grew quiet. I could see he was still mad at me, but there was something else in his eyes. Something new. A sparkle I’d never seen before. Then he said the words, Do it again, and I did. I let go of his left shoulder, reaching back, I knew what I would find. Dylan was hard, very hard. He pressed his hips against my hand. Please. He begged and I found myself getting aroused by his submission to me. So there in the woods, I fucked him. The sounds of the party ebbing and flowing around us, drowning out his cries of both pain and pleasure. I found in myself the delight of being dominate. When he’d come, I helped him up and got him to a car to take us back to our hotel. The right side of his face was just beginning to bruise. The paparazzi got a good shot of it and speculation of how it got that way went from we’d had a fight (sort of) to him getting into an altercation in a bar.

  The next day I made him call or text everyone we knew at the party to apologize for his behavior. Personally, I think it saved our careers. Dylan settled down for a while. He drank less and we ventured into a mild D/s lifestyle. We explored and found what he needed. I found what I needed, but above all we found what we needed, that is, until it all fell apart. As I moved down his body this morning, I remembered how we’d grown complacent. Things changed. Needs changed, but we never talked about it. We stopped trying and I was as guilty as he was. His infidelity was a symptom of a much larger problem.

  Here and now. Older and wiser. He needed me and I needed him to be complete.

  “Pull your knees up and apart.” I was met with a megawatt smile.

  “Yes, master.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that, you sound like Igor.”