Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  “So...you tying me up will help balance you out?”

  “Maybe.” My consciousness seemed to ebb and then the burning desire to fuck him took over, more than ever. “Have you ever been tied up before?”

  “No. Like I said, usually I do all the tying.”

  My lips curved down into a frown.

  “But…”

  “Yes?” My voice went up an octave.

  “I’m willing to bottom for you, so I might as well let you tie me up.”

  “Really?” My eyes blinked.

  “Sí.”

  “Good. Very good.”

  His muscular arms came wide. He peeled off his cotton tank, revealing his gorgeous chest. Perfectly sculpted. His nipples, like two blackberries, stared back at me, persuading to be tasted, sucked, and played with.

  “Lick my pecs, guapo,” he panted, grabbing on to my face, pulling my lips onto his flesh. “They’re sensitive. My nips go straight to my dick. You touch them and I get hard. Sí.”

  Such knowledge could be perilous. He struck a vibrant chord in me…

  I stuck my tongue out a bit and licked, once, twice. My teeth caught on the edge of his right nipple as I gave it a slight tug. His tormented groan was a heady invitation to keep going. And so I grazed my tongue across his smooth chest and continued the licking, biting playfully on his other pec. His body shivered in my arms. I liked how vulnerable he was becoming. There was something alluring about the man, being so muscular and masculine, and yet willing to let me have my way with him.

  I had no power over all the crazy shit going on in my life. But in Diego’s bed, I had a sense of control. I needed that. If only for one night. It felt new and different to me, and I intended to enjoy every minute.

  He pulled my shirt up. Holding onto his shoulders, I stood. With a projected energy and power which attracted me to him, he yanked my pants and then my underwear down.

  Being naked in front of him, I didn’t feel as vulnerable as I thought I would. If anything, my excitement only continued to climb.

  And then he…stroked…my dick.

  “Guapo, you like that?” he murmured, fisting his hands over my erection.

  “Ah-huh,” I replied in a husky whisper.

  Hard, my shaft thickened in his hands. The way he manhandled me felt hot, too. His palms were callus and rough but with my dick, he was almost gentle. He rubbed the bare skin, admiring the mushroom head of my penis.

  Raw. Sensitive.

  Staring up at me, his chest rose as he moaned, “I’m going to get your cock nice and wet. Then you’re going…to tie me up.”

  “Start sucking, papi,” I said in a throaty voice and lost myself in his mouth. Getting more turned on by the second as he gave me oral pleasure, becoming sensitive to his every touch, my nipples tightened.

  I didn’t know who I was or what the frick I was doing. It was as if I was having an out-of-body experience. I was no longer Blake Morgan III, Fairfield native, Avon Porter graduate, and Columbia University student.

  No!

  I was guapo, the raging dominant and soon-to-be top aficionado of all things ass.

  Tugging at my balls, his head jerked back and forth. Getting into a rhythm, he rotated his attention from the tip of my dick to my shaft.

  Waves of pleasure throbbed through me. The warmth of his hot flesh was amazing.

  He reached for the rope from the nightstand and instructed in sweet agony, “Tie me up.” And spread out on his back.

  Climbing on top of him, I placed his hands near the headrest. Taking his right hand in mine, I recalled my good ‘ol Boy Scout days of knots and wrapped the blue rope once, twice, around his wrist. Then I pulled his arm up a bit.

  “Does that hurt?” I asked, studying his face to see if he was uncomfortable.

  “In a good way,” he admitted submissively. “Pain feels good to me.”

  Focused, my eyes narrowed. I hooked the rope around the headboard then repeated the knot on his left wrist. Giving it a tug, I made sure he was secure. “There, you can’t move your arms. Want me to do your feet?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “When you fuck me…I want my legs up over your shoulders.”

  “Ahhh. Right.” A deep feeling, one which made me realize everything was in my hands, came over me. Overwhelmed and not sure of what to do next, I rested on top of him.

  “Let me suck on you some more. Give it to me,” he begged.

  The dormant sexuality I’d had up to that point had been euphorically awakened. Get ready! I shimmied my legs up to his neck and demanded as if I was a porn star, “Teabag me.”

  I can’t believe I just said that.

  Opening his lips wide, he got into it.

  Like two golf balls, I dropped my nuts in his mouth. His eyes closed as he took one then the other. The friction keeping me hard, I stroked myself while he sucked. “That’s it. Feels…so…good.”

  Arching my back, I withdrew myself as he moaned aloud with an erotic pleasure. Then I pressed the tip of my dick between his lips. From the determination in his eyes, I could tell my erection electrified him pleasurably. He took half the shaft down his throat. Then all of a sudden, I felt the urge to fuck his sweet little face. I pumped. Once. Twice. His sucking noises quickly turned to gag-like sounds.

  “You okay?” I asked, pulling out.

  “Sí, more. Give me more. Choke me with it.”

  Slowly, carefully, inch-by-inch, I lowered the rest of myself down his throat. Ohhh, God, his warm mouth feels so…perfect. Getting comfortable, his body squirmed for a minute under me. Holding on to the headboard, I balanced myself and sank into the hot well of his warm mouth. Just when I figured he couldn’t take anymore, I pulled out.

  Repeating this a few times, I enjoyed watching his brown, sexy, Enrique Iglesias-like eyes widen with surprise every time I plowed into his mouth. He was hungry for me. I was starved for him, too.

  This teasing—his mouth, my cock, our erotic dance—I loved this.

  I leaned down and kissed him. “This is so hot. You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

  Frickin’ A. Every hair on my body shot up as our tongues touched.

  Sitting back, I scooted myself down and complimented. “That was amazing.”

  “Now rim me,” he said as I pulled his legs over my shoulders.

  I buried my face in his ass. I’d never rimmed a guy before. My tongue traced the edge of his crack while I milked his dick, slowly tugging on it with my hands. He tasted…warm…sweet.

  It was the biggest, most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t know which was better: his tight asshole, or his fat dick.

  “Mierda.” He cried out for me to top him as if he couldn’t take it anymore. “Por favor. Now!”

  I reached over for a condom at the nightstand, sheathed my erection, poured a little bit of lube over the latex then rested the tip at the entry of his ass.

  He gazed eagerly up at me. “I love your eyes, Blake.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “You ready?”

  “Sí, sí.”

  Oh. Yes. Slowly…Fuck. Yes. I…slid…inside.

  Warm. Heaven.

  The flesh of his ass separating, hugging my excitement and joy.

  Oh. God. So tight.

  “Feels…beuno,” he cried out. His hands were restrained by the rope. He tugged toward me, wanting more.

  “You feel good, too,” I confirmed with a smile, peering down at him. Then it hit me. This. Us. What I was doing. “Now I see what you’re talking about. You’re under my body. Restrained. Me, buried in your ass. You’re helpless.”

  “Do you like the power…this gives you?” he asked, hoisting his butt up a bit, clenching the rim of his asshole around my dick. Milking me.

  “Yes, Diego,” I nearly growled his name and drilled deeper into him. Pumping, thrusting, dominating, I kissed him.

  When our lips broke, he moaned, “Gracias.”

  I guided myself into him even further, deep
er. With a loud slapping noise, my nuts started smacking his butt. I continued to fuck his tight little hole. The warmth of his flesh blanketed around my dick was intoxicating. I felt a hysteria of delight swelling inside me. “That’s it. Take all of me.”

  “Harder! Pound my ass.” The degree to which he reacted, with such excitement, stunned me. “Drill me good, guapo.”

  “I’m going to rip your ass in two.” I spoke, getting into it, acting as if I’d done this before. I hadn’t. But it felt so natural, me in his bed, taking him the way I was.

  I drew my hips back, then with every ounce of energy I had in me, I thrust my pelvis into him, as if I had some rhythmic soul of music oozing from my pores.

  Roused to the peak of full on balls-to-the-wall desire—stars, bright and white, burst into the back of my eyes—I shouted, “I’m going to come.”

  “That’s it. Come in my ass.”

  Soared to an awesome, shuddering eroticism, I pumped once then twice.

  “Don’t stop. Harder.” His eager response matched my own. I could go all night. He surrendered completely to me. “Feels…amazing…keep going.”

  Shit, the friction on my dick. So tight. So good. An electric shock had scorched through every fiber of my being. I grabbed his hips firmly and rocketed through him as I came, my hot seed packing that condom tight as I shot fire-like joy. I never dreamed…topping a man…could feel so damn good.

  He slowed his gyrating hips down as I pulled out, throwing the rubber in the trash.

  “Untie, me, por favor.”

  I reached down, freeing his hands from the rope. I massaged his wrists. His skin was red. Kissing the warm flesh, I asked, “Were they too tight?”

  “No. Perfecto.”

  Watching his face, the yearning in his eyes, I asked, “Want me to make you come?”

  “Sì…”

  I fisted his dick in my hands till he shot white all over his chest.

  “You’re the best. I love being with you,” he confessed.

  Together, our wet bodies clung as one, hugging each other.

  “Do you wanna go shower?” I asked.

  “No. Not yet. Let’s just lay here for a minute. I like being in your arms.” There was a romantic side to Diego that I hadn’t anticipated.

  Just as we were starting to doze off, my cell phone vibrated with a call from Taddy.

  Panicked that she might be back in the hospital, I reached for it and answered, “Taddy, what is it?”

  “Blake! I’m so glad I caught you. I have some exciting news to share with you.”

  I could hear Leon in the background, sounding all French.

  Diego mouthed, “Is everything okay?”

  I nodded in his direction then asked her, “What’s the news?”

  “Leon asked me to marry him, and I said yes!”

  Whoa!

  “We’re engaged, Blake. Can you believe it? Isn’t it wonderful? We don’t have a date picked out yet, but I wanted to call and tell you the good news…”

  As Taddy went on and on about her newfound mission to be a bride, my hearing sorta deafened. I couldn’t hear much of what she said next. All I kept thinking was…Taddy Brill is engaged to get married to a man who lives in France. My gut told me she was going to drop out of college and move to Europe.

  Chapter Eight

  Love Me Some Enrique Iglesias!

  “Guapo…”

  I awoke to Diego between my legs.

  “You taste bueno.” He sucked on my morning woody.

  With a pang, my pulse quickened as I suddenly became more aware of my heartbeat. Smiling down at him, I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure. Fingers tingling with a desire to touch, I knuckled his hairline, encouraging him to continue as my head fell back on the pillows, swirling in ecstasy. I thought about the previous night…

  Ahhhmazing!

  Well, until Taddy had called with her news about getting engaged, dropping out of college and moving to France. Yikes. Talk about a major buzzkill. If being married and living in Europe was what she wanted, then I’d be happy for her. Shit, was I going to miss her.

  However, Lex and Vive weren’t too excited. In utter hysterics, they’d rung shortly after Taddy. I’d promised to meet up with them later in the morning for coffee.

  A hot ache grew in my throat as I moaned. Every nerve ending in my body came alive.

  His hands fisted at my shaft while his lips—oh, those sweet Latin lips—licked on the head of my cock. Getting it all wet. Getting me harder than I ever imagined.

  “Oh, God.”

  “You like that?”

  “Yes!”

  Just as I was about to orgasm in Diego’s mouth, the door flew open.

  “Miguel!” Diego turned, facing him. All concentration on my oral delights faded.

  Fuck.

  That sexual heat I’d been experiencing seconds before turned into embarrassment. Oh, man. Grabbing the sheet, I covered myself as Diego pulled up his underwear and got to his feet.

  “Looks like I’m interrupting something,” Miguel said in a sleepy voice. He put his backpack on his desk.

  “Mierda. You can say that again,” Diego griped.

  “Want me to leave?” His florid, self-satisfied face mocked us.

  “No. Stay.” Diego grabbed his robe from the closet. “I have class in an hour. I’m going to take a shower.”

  My heart sank hearing that. I wanted more time with the Stone Cold Steve Austin-bodied, Enrique Iglesias-faced, hung-like-a-horse Latin hottie.

  He leaned down, pressing his lips to my ear, and said in a husky voice, “Gracious for last night. You were maravilloso. Take your time leaving. I’ll text you later.”

  Slipping him a little bit of tongue, we kissed.

  As he closed the bathroom door, I glanced up at Miguel.

  Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, facing me. Tall and gorgeous, his gaze narrowed and focused. Miguel had an impressively massive and self-confident presence about him. Damn. It nearly filled up the entire dorm room.

  “What?” Totally naked under the sheets, suddenly I felt self-conscious.

  “I owe you an apology.” His right eyebrow, black and thick, quirked.

  The water from the shower came on. Diego started singing something in Spanish. It was cute. But my attention focused on what Miguel was about to say…

  “For what?” Sitting up, I reached for my t-shirt from the nightstand and slipped it on. My pants were on his desk, so I adjusted my erection under the sheets and tried to make it appear like I wasn’t still horny. But I was. Oh, fuck, yes.

  “At Glamorama, I thought you and your Manhattanites had taken drugs. On your own accord, anyway.”

  “Oh…” My face felt as if it were flushing miserably.

  “I didn’t realize you’d been roofied. Perdón. I judged you.”

  For a second I just sat there, feeling my lips curve into a smile. “Apology accepted. Wait…did Diego tell you we got drugged?”

  “No. Just watched it on the news, in the student lounge, while eating my breakfast. They did a story on Glamorama.”

  Fury almost choked me as I repeated, “They?”

  “The Poppy White Show.”

  “Shit! She ran the segment? Were our names mentioned?”

  He nodded. “She had pictures and video, too. I’m sorry to hear about Taddy.”

  “Fucking bitch!” Erection fading, my lips thinned with anger as I asked, “Poppy mentioned Taddy’s miscarriage on air?”

  “Sí.”

  Sensing my nostrils flare, I buried my face in my hands. This is horrible.

  A few seconds passed as we sat in silence. I tried to get a hold on the situation. I’d be seeing the girls for coffee soon enough. I could only imagine their state of mind right about then: drama to the max. Lex, Taddy, and Vive weren’t the easiest to talk off the ledge. And believe you me, we’d been on many cliffs of Hell together.

  “So…are you and Diego an item now?” he asked, moving on to more pressi
ng topics.

  I didn’t know exactly how to answer that question, so I managed a shrug and replied, “I think so...”

  “You two look cute together,” he complimented matter-of-factly.

  I paused, taking in the moment. Miguel Santana, the cocky-as-hell artist who never spoke to me in English class, was being nice. I tried to play cool. “Thanks.”

  “You sure you know what you’re getting into with Diego?” His eyes shot to the floor.

  “What do you mean?” I peered over the bed to see what he was suddenly staring at and saw the rope. “Ohhh…that?”

  “Sí, that.” Watching me wearily, he walked over to his bed and took a seat.

  We faced each other. Him on one bed. Me on the other. He clothed. Me naked.

  “Diego and I have fun when we’re together. I like him.” I chose my words carefully. “I think I can handle myself.”

  Dark eyes framing a handsome square jaw, he questioned, “Then that means I’ll probably be seeing more of you around, huh?”

  “Is that a problem for you?” I asked, wondering where the conversation was going.

  “Nope.” Jauntily, he cocked his head to one side and continued, “In fact, I think you and I could become good friends.”

  “You do?” I heard my voice go up an octave. His suggestion intrigued me.

  “Sí. I don’t have many amigos in the city.”

  “I’d like that.” Then I recalled his earlier comments. “As long as you’re comfortable hanging with a femmy gay.”

  He laughed and then leaned forward. “You heard that?”

  “Ah-huh. The night you guys brought me here, my body might’ve been unable to move, but my ears were working perfectly fine. You came in loud and clear. I heard every latent-homosexual, internalized homophobic word that came out of your bitter mouth.”

  His handsome face turned bright purple. “I deserved that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Looks like I owe you another apology.”

  “It sure does...” I yanked the sheet closer to me.

  “I’m sorry.” His free hand moved recklessly to his neck. “See, Diego is the only gay friend I have and…I haven’t told my family yet.”

  “Are you going to?” I reached for a pillow and placed it over my lap.

  “My dad is a Mexican diplomat and works at the United Nations.”