Jordan
Only five days left…
Jordan popped the bottle of wine open and poured red wine into one of the two glasses he had set on the coffee table, then into the other. His steady hand held it like someone who was used to waiting tables, and in the past, he actually had.
Between two blinks, he remembered how much he’d hated it, how bitter he was during that time. The tension in his jaw eased when he sat down across from Miles, who was staring at him with arched eyebrows and a question mark over his head.
“Yeah? Something you wanna say?” Jordan asked, faking an easy-going smile.
“Nah,” Miles replied, naked and exposed. “You seem tense.”
There it was.
“I’m not.”
“You are,” Miles countered, sipping on the wine. “It’s good, I think.”
This stole a laugh from Jordan, whose annoyance subsided when he noticed the happy lines over his submissive’s face. The flawless skin he now knew so well was devoid of the shameful blush Miles would’ve exhibited at the beginning of their relationship.
Jordan crossed his legs under the table and tapped a nail on the translucent glass. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“It’s not like you’ve ever given me a choice about anything, not really,” Miles said bitterly.
Touché.
“You mentioned a guy, the one who fucked you.” Jordan swallowed the lump in his throat by drinking more wine. “Have you seen him again?”
“My schedule’s pretty full, so no,” Miles answered cautiously, setting his drink aside. “I promise, sir.”
No lies, probably.
“Good, good,” Jordan finished his own glass and filled it again, nervous. “Would you like to see him again?”
“After all this is over? I guess.”
It stung, and heat rose to Jordan’s cheeks, though he tried to ignore it. He didn’t care if Miles saw him blushing, which he was. He couldn’t even tell if it was because he was angry or sad, so he only continued talking after licking his lips. He scratched the surface of the table, the dark, polished wood purring against his fingernails.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking about asking you to call him. Ever had a threesome?” Jordan asked suddenly.
“With girls, yes.”
“What would you say about doing it with two guys?”
Miles threw his head back, laughing, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that made Jordan’s cock throb. His first thought was to go around the table and force his dick down Miles’s throat, and then he mentally slapped himself on the wrist for thinking it. For the first time in a long time, what aroused him bothered him.
His guts sank, his legs were numb, and the frown that creased his brows came without him even noticing. He wasn’t mad at Miles, but he resented himself for falling so deep into the well of toxicity he had dug all on his own.
The power and the control were good, but they could only take you so far on the road of self-fulfillment.
Jordan controlled everything at work, at home, and out on the streets. If someone stood in his way, they were the ones who stepped aside, not the other way around.
With Miles, however, a weakness he hadn’t experienced for a long time had crawled its way back into his mind, and its painful assaults had him confused to no end.
What did he want? What could he do?
To be forgiven, to be trusted.
Jordan sighed and pushed his partially full glass away from him; the wine, shining under the lightbulbs hanging over the table, cast a red hue over it. “So it’s a no?” Jordan finally said in the face of Miles’s lack of response.
“I don’t know, maybe not. It could be fun,” Miles offered, and then the oven beeped.
“Okay,” Jordan rose from his seat, the chair screeching on the floor. “Sorry.”
“No chastity cage, though.”
Jordan turned. “What?”
“I don’t want that guy to know you got me locked. I won’t have you humiliate me in front of him.”
Jordan’s nostrils flared, and he willed himself to breathe out his… anger? No, it was something else, though he couldn’t understand what it was. “No cage.” He agreed and headed into the kitchen.
Miles
So, he is really trying… Miles stared at the faint reflection in the large balloon glass; his head was already spinning, and his vision blurred.
He should stop drinking, he told himself as he took another sip.
Then, Jordan came back with a whole chicken, cooked to perfection with mashed potatoes on the side. One thing was sure: Miles would miss his cooking once he was gone. The guy might be a bit psycho, but he was a fantastic cook.
“This looks so fucking good.” Miles leaned forward and inhaled the oval plate on which the food was displayed. “You should open a restaurant, or something. Crisis management is cool, but making people’s stomachs happy is better.”
“I’d hate working in the kitchen with a whole squad; cooking is one of the few things that actually calm me down,” Jordan confessed, cutting a good chunk of chicken before serving it to Miles, who held out his plate eagerly.
His balls stuck to the chair, and the head of his cock felt cold even if the heat was on.
If Miles weren’t naked, this dinner would’ve been quite romantic. Mashed potatoes were added to his plate, and Miles waited for Jordan to fill up his own before he reached for his knife and fork.
Silverware fit for kings; heavy and made of actual silver. Jordan enjoyed nice things, and Miles’s chest puffed with pride because, in a twisted way, Jordan enjoyed him, too.
His nipples were hard, and the thought of being wanted aroused his dick. Luckily, Jordan couldn’t see how perverted Miles had become.
The first bite sent another kind of pleasure through his body, and Miles moaned shamelessly. “Fucking hell, you’re the best!”
“Am I?”
“When it comes to food at least,” Miles retorted, picking at the potatoes.
“Too bad, because I have more than just food in mind,” Jordan growled, then chuckled.
Miles grinned. “You want to use your big cock to fold me in half?”
“As I should, your hole is mine for another five days. I might as well enjoy it,” Jordan explained, a hint of sadness behind his sharp, dark eyes. His muscular chest peeked out from under the V-neck he’d chosen to wear for the evening; plain, simple, and black, fitted in a way that reminded Miles that Jordan wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with.
But tonight, he dared to.
“You’d better enjoy it, because there’s a big fat chance you won’t get to fuck it soon,” Miles cut through the chicken, the crispy skin crunching under his knife.
“You’ve made up your mind, then,” Jordan said flatly.
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t.” Miles thought back on the offer and bit his lower lip. “Let’s see how things go with Austin, if he even says yes.”
“You’re gonna call him.”
“Yeah, he was a good fuck. I want to see if you’re as much of a jerk to others as you are to me.”
Jordan nodded, and silence fell over the table. The sound of knives and forks on plates and the soft music coming out of the stereo were their only companions. Neither of them spoke, and Miles leaned into the security it brought. Aside from being terribly underdressed in front of a very well-dressed Jordan, Miles could get used to these quiet moments. There was no threat, no orders barked at him, and the soft glances Jordan threw his way made his heart flutter.
You gotta leave his ass. He reminded himself.
Or should I give him a second chance?
No! A voice chimed in sharply.
Miles hoped he wasn’t making weird faces, and when his plate was empty, he massaged his belly with a satisfied yawn.
“I don’t think I can take dick tonight,” he said. “You fed me too well.”
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Jordan replied, wiping his mouth with a light-blue napkin. “But you will swallow my load.”
“Fuck,” Miles breathed.
“And you will touch yourself while servicing my cock, no cumming though. We want to keep your balls full for Austin.”
Of course, he’d pull a dirty trick like that on him.
“On your knees, now,” Jordan commanded.
And Miles bent down and crawled under the table like a dog about to beg for leftovers, his cock stiff and ready to be denied. He didn’t even want to touch it; it’d only make it harder for him. But Jordan’s word was final, and he wasn’t about to go against him when he’d so clearly reverted to his jerky little self.
Jordan pulled down his shorts, and Miles had a perfect view of his beautiful, thick cock. The head was expectantly waiting for him, foreskin rolled over it. Like he had been taught, Miles lapped at it and took it into his mouth without using his hands.
“Edge yourself, boy,” Jordan commanded from his throne. “Hands on your cock, mouth on mine.”
The smell of a day’s worth outside was trapped under Jordan’s foreskin, ripe and arousing, not disgusting. It smelled faintly of sweat and… sex, and Miles gleefully cleaned it with expert precision.
This was another element of their relationship he would miss. Finding uncut guys in the US was a bit of a hassle, and finding one as well-endowed would be even harder. Miles buried his nose in Jordan’s dark, luscious pubes.
Or maybe he could find someone better.
He inhaled Jordan’s scent deeply.
Or not.
“Good boy,” Jordan praised, letting his hand rest over Miles’s head without forcing it down.
Miles sucked harder and wanked his cock faster, too. His circumcised head was dry, and he let Jordan slip out of his mouth to ask if he could spit on it.
“You may,” Jordan told him. “But first…” He slid his chair further from the table and helped Miles to straighten up. “Open that pretty mouth.”
Miles did so, and a wad of spit hit his tongue. He couldn’t move, disgusted and strangely aroused.
“Now, you can jerk yourself with my spit,” Jordan directed Miles back to his dick, slowly so Miles would have the time to spit in the palm of his own hand and wrap it around his throbbing shaft. The addition of saliva soothed his forever exposed head, but it’d dry out fast. He only ever noticed how tight his circumcision was when it wasn’t properly moisturized.
“Shit,” he mumbled around Jordan’s girth, precum spilling into his mouth.
“What is it, boy?”
“I’m getting close, sir!” And he was so close, so fast, his balls were too tight, and his glans, from what he could see, was red like a cherry.
“Stop touching yourself.”
Miles wanted to fight back, plead his case, beg for an orgasm.
He dropped his hands to his sides instead and grabbed Jordan’s enormous legs.
“I’m getting close, too. Only one of us is cumming tonight. Why is that?”
Miles pulled back. “Because I’m just a slave boy, sir!”
“That’s a good boy,” Jordan replied with a broad smile, his hand tracing the tender lines of Miles’s sore throat. “Get back to it, now!”
A few more pumps were all it took to bring Jordan to the edge, and then cum shot out of his powerful cock. Choking Miles with thick, white ropes of fertile seed. Jordan’s balls were sweating, as was his whole body. His V-neck was pulled up, revealing his hairy and well-defined abs. He was akin to a God, a cruel master who was close to claiming Miles as his most fervent follower.
No, no, no! Please, no! Miles prayed while doing his best to swallow every drop of cum gifted to him. His own manhood was left painfully hard, unable to blow its load.
Forbidden to.
Then, Jordan kissed him and licked the cum that had leaked out of his mouth.
“You did well,” Jordan whispered. “I’m sure Austin and I will have loads of fun using you.”
Miles was burning up, on the verge of collapsing.
He didn’t allow it.
“I’ll be a good boy, master.”
What was becoming of him?
Jordan
Jordan allowed Miles to rise, content with seeing his rock-hard cock leaking uncontrollably. If he had been a better man, he would have allowed Miles to cum.
But he couldn’t.
To make up for it, he held Miles close, noticing his wobbly legs and glazed-over eyes.
“I’ll help you shower,” Jordan said, kissing Miles’s temple. “I think you’ll need a good amount of sleep tonight.”
Which was surprising, since Miles had handled much harsher treatments. Jordan recognized the telltale signs of a submissive being broken, but fighting it.
The walk to the bathroom was awkward, and Miles hung on to him and mumbled spitefully as he stumbled over his own feet.
“You’ll be fine, just sit.” Jordan helped him and was careful to have the water at the perfect temperature before showering Miles, whose cock was still throbbing and aching for attention. “You’ll call Austin tomorrow. I’d like him to come over as soon as he can.”
“Yes, sir,” Miles uttered.
“Are you sure you want us both to use you, though?” Jordan asked tentatively. “You could wait for all this to be over, if you wanted.”
“No, I want to see how far I can go.”
“Good boy,” Jordan kissed the top of Miles’s head, combing his wet hair delicately with his fingers. “It’ll be good for you.”
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