"What exactly did you plan to do if you escaped?"
He didn't wait for my answer. Instead he moved to tie the rope, binding my wrists together behind the pole. It wasn't tight -- I could slip free if I was uncomfortable. But I pretended like it was.
"Slip a dagger between your ribs while you were sleeping," I spat, surprised at how easily the character came to me.
He laughed, a full, throaty sound that made my dick twitch. Already hard from the excitement of the scene, it started to tent my loose trousers.
He noticed.
"Your body is telling me you'd rather slip your cock between my lips."
My pulse raced, a hot surge of lust shooting through me. Fuck, I had no idea why this was so hot to me, but it was.
"Only if it means you'd choke on it," I said, thinking my character would be too prideful to admit what was clear.
"Well let's just see about that, shall we?"
Without warning, he pulled me up to my feet. Surprisingly strong for how much smaller Elliot was than me. But he wasn't Elliot right now. He was Captain Felblade, and that man loomed as large as a mountain.
My hands remained bound and I pretended to struggle, not wanting to move too much for fear of making them come undone. Elliot went for the ties of my pants, opening up the wide flap and letting them fall easily off my hips. Without underwear, my cock sprang free.
He smirked at me. "Why don't you just admit it?" He punctuated the question by grabbing my cock. And not lightly, either. "This mutiny you staged was all in an effort to get my attention; to force me to punish you."
He squeezed the base of my cock, then worked upward in strong, sure stroked. I practically trembled from the sensation mixed with the growl in his voice.
"Quite a gamble, thinking I wouldn't just toss you overboard."
"Rather that than listen to you talk," I responded, looking at him with defiance in my eyes.
I had to bite down on the groan that wanted to escape me when he started stroking me in earnest.
Another laugh came from him, and he started to get to his knees. He still exuded power while doing it, holding my gaze every moment. There was no way to think that his current position somehow made him in any way submissive to me. He had the control.
"There's another way to fix that. One I think you'll like better. Unless you're just going to keep pretending."
In the time we'd been together, Elliot had gained confidence in sucking dick. He'd always been willing to try rougher things, but this was the first time he initiated it from the start. Without warning, he took my cock deep into his throat, until his lips were practically flush with my pelvis. I moaned, unable to help myself. He drew back with a gasp and grinned up at me.
"Can't deny your body, can you?"
"Fuck y--"
I wasn't able to finish the false words of displeasure. He took me deep again, then grabbed my ass and pulled me to him, his fingers digging into my hips as he used me to fuck his face. I "resisted" for a time, acting like my character would. Pretending I didn't like it until both of us couldn't take it anymore. I started to thrust wildly into his mouth, the intensity of the scene and how fucking horny it was making me work quickly.
The moment I was close to coming, though, Elliot pulled back. I felt like my head had been shoved into a bath of ice water, and my whole body succumbed to a shudder as I adjusted to being so close and not getting what I wanted.
I heard the clink of metal and looked up to see him undoing his belt. There was a smugness in his expression, but his eyes told a different story. One he soon voiced.
"Let me know if this gets to be too much for you, or if it's something you don't want," he said in his normal voice.
"I will. Promise."
That diversion lasted only a moment before he put a hand on my shoulder to push me back down to my knees, then continued unbuckling his belt before pulling at the ties of his pants. He wasn't wearing anything beneath either, so it was easy for him to pull his cock out. My mouth was already watering, and I had to really pretend not to want it as badly as I did. I turned my face to the side, looked at him with defiance. He just took my chin in his hand again and put me back where he wanted me, pressing the head of his dick against my stubbornly closed lips.
I wanted to take him in. Taste his skin and the saltiness of his precum. Stroke him with my tongue, suck him hard until he came in the back of my throat. But my character would have resisted, and so I only opened just a little, as if I was reluctant to do so. Elliot took it from there.
He shoved his cock into my mouth, not far enough to cause discomfort, but enough that I had to make an effort to take him. He fucked my mouth as hard as he'd made me fuck his, his shaft sliding in and out, head bumping against the back of my throat. I took it greedily, sucking in earnest, letting him use my mouth and throat.
I thought he was going to come, but he denied himself the same way he denied me, pulling back with a gasp. I could tell how hard it was for him, and some defiant part of me was tempted to follow his withdrawal and make him come.
"Still not much of a punishment," he said, his voice strained. "Even fucking you wouldn't be a punishment, would it? You'd like it too much."
I said nothing, too eager to feel him inside of me. I hoped he was going to be rough. To put me in my place. Fuck, I could have come just from thinking about it.
"Your cock is leaking just from the thought," he pointed out.
I jerked against the bindings as if they were truly holding me in place. "Untie me and I'll show you what I'm thinking about."
"There's an interesting proposition."
He reached behind and did untie me, but as soon as my hands were out from behind the post, he grabbed my arms and directed me to the small desk in his bedroom, shoving me down against it. He rebound my wrists, more tightly this time, then wound the excess rope around me, eventually tying it around the base of my cock. Just enough to create a bit of pressure, but not enough to cut off circulation.
I gasped when his hand brushed against me, so fucking ready to come; needing it so badly.
"Take in the salt air," he told me, leaning close to my ear, "and think about how easy it would be for me to just toss you over like this."
"Do it then," I growled, imagining I was being leaned over the side of a rocking ship instead of a desk, the sea spray hitting me in the face.
"I think I'd rather hear you beg me to fuck you. That can be your punishment. Or part of it, at least," he said with another laugh, giving my ass an unexpected smack.
The sting was sharp, but it was followed by a rush of pleasure that had me moaning like a damn whore. I felt him shift behind me, and my moans only continued as he tongued my ass, probing my hole, spreading me with his fingers.
He stepped away for a moment as I squirmed against the desk. I heard a condom wrapper being torn open, heard the slick sound of him lubing up his dick before I felt his lube-coated fingers around my hole, one of them pressing in. I moaned and writhed, needing more.
"Say it," he demanded from behind me, rising to his full height.
"No," I managed through gritted teeth.
I felt the thick, heavy flesh of his cock against my cheeks and I shuddered, my thighs shaking with desire. He ran the head between my cheeks, teasing my hole with it. So close, but not where I wanted him. I squirmed even more, trying to push back against him, but he never let me take him in.
"Say it," he whispered hoarsely.
I couldn't take it anymore, and I didn't think the character I was playing would have been able to do it, either. "Fuck me," I begged, strained. "Fuck me hard. Fucking use me."
Elliot didn't hesitate. He pushed into me, breaching my tight entrance, his cock filling me quickly. I let out a low moan, arching back against him, begging him not to stop. He only did when his balls touched my skin, and that was just to pull back and do it again.
He quickly built to a hard, punishing rhythm, and I loved every second of it. The desk was being shoved into the
wall with every thrust, pounding against it. I held on, gripping the smooth wood, one of my knees lifting so I could feel him deeper. Every time his thick cock rubbed against my prostate, I felt like I was going to black out from the pleasure of it.
That was only aided by the bruising pressure of his fingers gripping my ass, hips, thighs in turn. Curling into my head, pulling the short strands. Smacking my ass hard enough to leave a mark, I was sure.
I'd never seen this side of him before, but I felt like such a slut for it. If this was what it was going to be like to fuck this way, I knew it wouldn't be the only time.
In the end, I never even had to touch my dick to come. He slammed into me over and over and I felt my body tighten, clenching around him just seconds before I shot jet after jet of cum. It wasn't long before his thighs slapped against mine and he buried his cock inside of me, the rush of hot cum filling the condom as he shuddered over top of me.
Afterward, once we'd caught our breath, Elliot untied me, took off the hat and the ridiculous facial hair, and kissed me tenderly. He brought me over to the bed and continued kissing and touching me, and only then did I realize how much I needed that. The intensity of the scene was a hard thing to come down from, but he was my soft place to land. Always.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," I murmured, in that moment also realizing that he was the only reason I wasn't falling apart right now.
I thought it would be harder to admit something like that, but it was the most natural thing in the world. Even if my heart ached to make another admission.
I expected him to play it down; brush it off like he really hadn't done anything. But his eyes were a little misty, so I leaned up to kiss him, over and over. I kissed him until we both wanted more, and then I made love to him well into the early hours of the morning. Until we both lay spent and exhausted, but happy and at peace.
24
Reuben
We slept through the night, and in the morning, Elliot was up early to make us breakfast. We'd made a habit of eating out or ordering in for breakfast because neither of us were great at cooking the foods we liked. My culinary skill in the mornings barely reached the heights of remembering to roll the cereal bag back up so it wouldn't be stale the next day. Elliot wasn't much better.
Nevertheless, he'd said he bought some of that shake and pour pancake mix, eggs, and bacon, which were -- according to him -- hard to screw up too bad. I wasn't so sure about that. I was tempted to find some way to convince him to just stay in bed with me for another hour before we ordered delivery, yet Elliot was determined.
Half awake, I'd flopped over onto my belly to hide from the sun that streamed in thanks to the hallway window. Elliot was kind enough to shut the door, that shaft of light fading to a sliver before it was blotted out completely, the blackout curtains in his bedroom putting in good work this morning.
I knew more sleep wasn't going to happen but still I lay there, basking in the feeling of... everything, really. The lazy Sunday morning with a boyfriend who was considerate enough to cook breakfast, even if he wasn't good at it. The delicious ache in my body from last night's activities -- especially the sting in the back of my thighs and the cheeks of my ass. The smell of Elliot on his pillow, that citrus shampoo lulling me into contentment.
As I just lay there, no other responsibilities, no reason to worry about anything at all -- at least until I woke up more and started thinking about David and my job and everything else -- I realized I was truly, genuinely happy.
And I had Elliot to thank for that. Elliot, who I'd resisted for so long. The man I was beginning to realize I might not be able to live without.
A flutter of nerves kicked up in my stomach as I thought of telling him that. It felt too soon, even if I was pretty sure he'd be receptive. Maybe it was my own fears and insecurities. I'd made such bad choices in the past, had let myself fall so fast without looking to see if anyone would be there to catch me on the other side.
Elliot would be there. I knew that already. I just.. had to work up the courage to jump.
Pulled out of my peaceful, worry-free existence, I sighed and pushed myself up, padding over to the dresser. I'd kept a drawer at Elliot's place with just a few simple changes of clothes in case I ever needed them. I grabbed a pair of briefs from there and searched around for my phone. Realizing I hadn't brought it into the bedroom with me, I headed to the bathroom to take a piss then went out into the living room, the smell of bacon a welcome motivator.
"Coffee should be done soon," he said.
I moved behind him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks. You seen my phone?"
I was still groggy, my sentences not really coming out the way I wanted them to. Fortunately, Elliot didn't seem to hold it against me.
"Over by mine on the end table."
I stumbled over to it, grabbing the first phone my palm hit and dropping myself onto the couch. I badly needed the coffee, apparently. It took almost a full minute before I realized I wasn't holding my own phone.
I started to put it back, but one of the notifications caught my eye.
Dear Lonely Guy
Just checking in to see how it's going. Is he begging you for more yet?
Even as I sat there staring at it, I knew I should just leave it be. The screen went black again from inactivity, and I had every chance to just grab my own phone and forget about it. Or call out to Elliot for some kind of explanation. Anything other than what I did.
Turning the phone's display back on, I tapped the notification and brought up the app. It was simple, looking like just a standard messenger app with very limited functionality. There were two threads in it, one that hadn't been accessed in months. The one he'd told me about.
The more recent thread made my stomach drop like a lead weight. I knew looking at it was only going to make things worse, but still I couldn't stop. Tapping on the thread, I opened the message history and saw all of it laid bare.
Elliot hadn't stopped messaging Formerly Lonely Guy. He'd just stopped messaging him about casual hookups and had instead asked for his advice about relationships. About getting a guy to share his feelings even though he'd expressed he didn't want anything more.
About me.
I vaguely heard Elliot speaking, but it was a low, droning sound followed by a high-pitched ringing in my ears. It felt dramatic to say my world lost color, but everything became so much less saturated and so much blurrier in an instant.
"Reuben?"
My name pierced through me and I looked up to see Elliot standing near the back of the couch. He took one look at my face, then looked down at the phone I still held in a death grip, unable to let it go.
"Is it David? What happened?" His face paled instantly, his eyes wide with worry.
I felt a twinge of regret and anger directed inward, because how could I feel betrayed by this man, who'd only ever been caring toward me? I did, though, and those feelings swirled to the forefront.
"When did you plan on telling me you hadn't stopped talking to Formerly Lonely Guy?" I asked, flipping the phone around to show him.
His expression changed from worry to shame, his face becoming somehow paler. "I... it's not..."
"It's not what, Elliot? It's not what it looks like? Is that really what you're going to say to me?" Anger took hold, rooting deep inside of me. "Because it looks like you asked some stranger to tell you how to get me into a relationship when that wasn't what I wanted."
"I was never going to force you," he said, his voice already desperate. "It's not like I was trying to slip you a love potion or something. I just wanted..."
"To get around what I wanted back then." The more I said it out loud, the more it hurt. "To manipulate me into feeling something I wasn't ready to feel."
"But you are now," he countered. One of the worst things he could say. "And I haven't talked to Formerly Lonely Guy in over a month, you can see for yourself."
"It doesn't matter, Elliot!"
I raised my voice, hearing th
e snap of bacon grease in the kitchen as if in answer.
"You knew enough about me back then to know I wouldn't be okay with this. And you sure as shit know enough about me now to at least say you're sorry!"
"I am sorry, I--"
"No." I shook my head. "You don't get to say it just because I told you you should. Fuck."
I dragged my hands over my face, raking them through my hair. An aching restlessness coursed through me and I stood suddenly, storming back into the bedroom. I heard him follow.
"Reuben, we can talk about this. Please."
"Not right now." I said it so quickly, not even sparing a second thought. It was an honest, raw reaction. I wasn't capable of anything else. "I can't deal with this right now. I don't want to be here."
I'd felt so safe, so content waking up here. So distanced from the problems of my life, happy in knowing at least one thing was going right. At least one person respected me and wouldn't hurt me.
In the span of just a few minutes, Elliot proved me wrong.
"...Okay," he finally said, his voice small; defeated. "I don't want to keep you here if you don't feel good about it."
I was glad he wasn't fighting me. I didn't want to break down into a blubbering mess. I didn't want to tell him how much it hurt me; how much the men I'd dated had manipulated me in the past. How he'd just proven every red flag I'd had about him right, all because of one thoughtless decision.
Grabbing a fresh pair of clothes, I dressed quickly and shoved my feet into the only shoes I'd brought -- those damn pirate boots. Elliot stepped aside, letting me leave the bedroom unimpeded.
"I am sorry," he said softly as I passed.
"I know," was all I could manage before I grabbed my phone and left, the smell of burnt bacon following me.
25
Elliot
I'd never in my life felt like a worse person.
Role Play Page 14
