Title: Thinking Outside The Box
By: glo-starz
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC17
Summary: Why did the box on the table bother him so much? And how far will they take their rather smutty 'revenge'? Good old fashioned romance, with a healthy dose of smut.

It’s not that I’m impatient. Because I’m not. Not all the time anyways. And it’s not that I can’t wait when I have to because I can. But only when I really have to. It’s just, well, that damn box is sitting there staring at me.

It’s my day off so I was surfing the music channels and thinking about making pancakes when the door bell rang. Who was on the other side? Archie. He hands me the box all innocent but grinning like he should be carrying a pitchfork, then he says: “Nick says can you put this on the kitchen table. He also said leave it alone, no peaking, no lifting the tape and no shaking to try and guess what it is.”

It would seem that Nicky knows me too well. Thing is, I know Nicky just as well. And if he has gone to that much effort to signpost that I shouldn’t be touching the box, it means whatever is inside it is for me. I also know this because Nicky left for work an hour ago and is on the same shift as Archie, so he could have easily given him the box himself at work. He knows this will drive me mad.

Oh yes, Nicky wants me to suffer. And if I suffer now, he suffers tonight. Now there’s something to think about which might distract me from the box . . . So I think about all the things I can do to make Nicky suffer. I search the fridge for squirty cream, look in the bathroom to see if we have any massage oil left, check that I haven’t lost the key to the handcuffs . . . But I can’t give my preparations my full concentration because my mind is still on that god damn box! This is exactly what Nicky wants. He also knows at is it a small box the tension will be even worse. Why are small boxes worse? Because they contain the best types of surprises from Nicky. The first was a key to his house in a tiny box that he gave me when we went stargazing and I was still in the lab. The next was the black ring box left on my pillow in my old bedroom when we went on vacation to California. And the last had been the key to our new house, the one Nicky had got to start our lives together in, the one I knew nothing about. So you see, small boxes are the best ones.

The waiting is too much. I grab my cell and press 9 – that’s his number on speed dial. I’m 6 on his. Childish, yes, but you won’t see me complaining. It goes straight to voicemail, so he knew I would call. Damn him! I almost howl in frustration into the phone,

“You, Cowboy, are a god damn evil tease. But if you think you can out do the great Greg Sanders, you have another thing coming. And at the rate you’re going it wont be you!”. Then I giggle a touch manically and end the call. About ten minutes later I get a text. All it says is : *Laughs Evilly*. Oh yes, he is so going to pay . . .

The rest of my night off goes too slowly. And I never thought I’d say that about a night off. I get the bedroom ready for the torture later, try to watch a film, try to read my surf mag, try to surf the net, even thought about doing some washing. But then I have Nicky to do all that domestic stuff so why should I? Especially when he does things like this. Eventually I have to eat, so I put on some of my coffee and make some noodles. I put my spoils on the table, along with a Twinkie from the box I have hidden in the kitchen which Nicky still hasn’t found. I’m just about to open the Twinkie when I hear the key in the lock. Before he can even open the door I am on him, legs wrapped around his waist.

“What is it, what is it, what is it?” I say over and over again. Nicky just giggles, yes, actually giggles. And that’s not something I have seen many
times before.

“Only one way to find out, G.” He says, his eyes glittering, slightly mischevious. “Go open it!”.

I run to the box and rip off the tape. When I look inside my eyes fly wide open and I stare at him, then at the thing, then at him, then back at the thing.

“B . . . B . . . But . . . . “ And then I give up.

“What’s the matter Sunshine, cat got your tongue?”. I pull the object out of the box and cradle it gently in my hands.

“A new iPod? You got me a new iPod? Wow, Nicky.”

“Well, I sorta felt guilty about the old one.” Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that. I had actually been doing the washing up for a change when genius here decides to kiss me on the back of the neck. A good thing, yes, but not when my iPod was balanced on the side of the sink. I spun ‘round to look at him and splash. In it goes. I grabbed it quickly but it was too late. No more iPod. “Well, switch it on then!” So I turn in on. Not only is it fully charged, but it is also one of the ones that stores photos.

“Nicky, this must have cost you a fortune, this is one of the new ones.”

“I know, G. But you deserve it.”

I’m still too stunned to respond. Until I look at the library.

“How . . . ?” It’s full. All my favourite songs and all my favourite photos of us, stuff from my childhood. It’s all there. “How did you do this?” And suddenly it clicks. All the times recently when a photo has vanished one day and reappeared the next, each time Nicky said he had been cleaning and put it back in the wrong place. The holes in my CD collection that I noticed but thought nothing of because, although I am possessive about my music, they could have been in the bedroom, in the car or with my Discman which I had had to start listening to since the iPod had died. “You did all this? For me?”

”Well, I had some help from Archie.” Which explains why he had the box.

“Why Nicky?”

“Three reasons. One, it was my fault the last one died. Two, I love you and wanted to show you how much you meant to me. And three, I am not sitting on a plane, bus and god knows what else all the way to Tromso with you if you don’t have an iPod to keep you occupied.” By the lustful look on his face he is remembering the flight to New York when I forgot it, and nearly got us banned from American Airlines into the bargain.

“Tromso?”

“Yeah, I figured it was about time I saw this midnight sun you’re always going on about.” Then he scooted over to the cupboard under the sink where we keep our cleaning stuff and pulled out an envelope. Inside where the tickets, hotel reservations, travel money, everything.

“Oh my god!” I scream, throwing myself at him and showering him with kisses. “But, why did you put the stuff in there?” I ask. After all, a cleaning cupboard is hardly a safe place for holiday documents.

“Why?” And, once again, there is the evil grin that means he is about to say something that will only prolong his torture later.

“Well . . . “ And he starts to back away towards the bedroom. “It’s the only place in the house I knew you would never go!” And off he runs, giggling once again. I smile for a few seconds, then what he said filters through.

“Oh, Stokes, you have just made things so much worse!” I shout, running after him. “I am going to show you what torture really is!”.
 

I knew I was in trouble, that’s why I ran for the bedroom. Truth is I knew that’s where the trouble was waiting for me. He had to have been going insane all day, what with the box sitting there in front of him, and he would have come up with the perfect punishment. And now with the iPod exposed and the trip to Tromso out in the open, well. I can only assume I’m in for the ride of my life.

Once I reach the bedroom I know I’m right. The only light is his bedside lamp with a red silk scarf over it. The silk sheet is on the bed, pillows are stacked at the head and the comforter has been placed on top of the chest of drawers. On his bedside table are handcuffs, chocolate body paint, squirty cream, strawberries, a silk scarf and lube. Oh boy . . . Greg sashays in and says, in a low voice that makes me shiver,

“Oh Nicky, you’ve been a very naughty boy. And naughty boys need to be punished.” He slowly stalks towards me, swinging his hips and licking his lips suggestively. He puts a hand on my chest and continues to walk seductively in my direction. My breathing quickens, just from that small contact. He grins, the kind of grin that I know only means one thing, and it’s not a good nights sleep. “Have you been a naughty boy Nicky?”

“Yes.” I whisper, obviously not loud enough to satisfy him though.

“Sorry Nicky, but that’s just not good enough.” And he pushes me roughly backwards so the back of my knees are flush with the bed. “I said, have you been a naughty boy Nicky?” And he places both hands on my hips and pushes me so I fall messily on to the silk sheet.

“Yes.” I say, gasping as he carefully lowers himself so he is on all fours over me, not touching any part of my body. “Yes, Greg. So, so naughty.” I reach up to grab him. I want to kiss him so bad, I want to feel his skin on mine. But before I can he has grabbed the handcuffs and is sat upright, swinging them on his index finger.

“You see, Cowboy, you put me through hell today. And you did it on purpose. You knew exactly what you were doing. And the thing is . . .” He leans down, kisses my neck and breathes the next words onto a spot where my neck meets my shoulder, “So do I.” And with that he pulls me up the bed, rips open my shirt and handcuffs me to the bed frame. Then he winks at me and saunters off.

I’m laying here, semi-hard in my jeans, the remains of my shirt and boxers. I have no idea where he is gone or what the hell he is up to. All I know is that he has left me handcuffed to the bed and aroused as hell. I normally avoid letting Greg take control. Every now and again he wears a studded collar and acts submissive. How he knew it was a secret kink I’ll never know, but I’m glad he did, as he is damn good at it. But that’s another story. Every once in a while, though, I give in and let him do whatever he wants to me and believe it or not I enjoy it. I’ve never felt comfortable enough to do that with anyone else. He wouldn’t leave me like this, but I have no idea just how much he wants to torture me. Is this part of the torture? Or is he busy getting something ready?

My question is answered a couple of seconds later when Greg slinks back into the room wearing nothing but skin tight leather trousers, black eyeliner and a smile. And holy fuck if that isn’t the best thing I’ve seen all day. My dick obviously agrees as suddenly I am hard as hell. He presses a button on his stereo and Portishead floats softly through the room. The beat is seductive and Greg starts to swing his hips hypnotically, his eyes burning with desire. He slowly lets his hand travel down his chest and it dips below the waistband of the leather. He lets his fingers graze his hard on, moaning my name softly to show me how turned on he is.

“Jesus, that’s beautiful. Let me touch you.” The words spill from my mouth. I’m hard, and he is so fucking beautiful when he is like this.

“Ah, ah, ah!” He says, rubbing his palm over his swollen member through the leather. He moans softly, watching me carefully as he does. “Oh no Nicky. The first part of your torture is you can only watch. Then we can move on to part two.” And that’s a punishment I’m not complaining about. I love watching Greg bring himself off.

As I gaze at him he slowly unbuttons those tight leather pants, rubbing slow circles on each new patch of skin as it is revealed. His skin is creamy and smooth, I can almost feel it’s texture under my fingers. Then he pulls the front of the pants open, letting me see his beautiful cock for the first time. And it really is beautiful. He licks a finger and slowly rubs the tip in circles, gasping at the first contact of skin on skin.

“Oh Nicky, this feels so good. My fingers are your tongue, licking in slow circles, tasting me.” The he takes that finger and sucks it into his mouth. I moan loudly, I can’t help myself. I can feel my skin heating as I watch Greg put on a show for me, he is such an exhibitionist, but I’m ok with that when I get to watch this. He walks over to his bedside table and picks up the lube, then he straddles my knees, facing me. His face is flushed and his breathing is starting to quicken. I struggle against the handcuffs and he slaps my thigh. “New rule Nicky. You aren’t allowed to move. You can watch and moan and speak, but that’s it. Understand?” And I nod, it’s the only thing I can do as I am concentrating so hard on not thrusting up towards him, I’m so desperate for friction.

He pours lube into his palm and rubs his hands together. Then he slowly wraps them both around his length. “This is going to be good.” He whispers. “Sit back and enjoy the show.” Then he starts to slowly stroke himself, building up to the rhythm that he enjoys most. He wrings his hands, twisting each wrist as he gets to the tip, which is leaking. As he speeds up his strokes he moans loudly and his breath is coming in short pants.

“Oh Nicky . . . Feels so good . . . I’m so hard.” He starts to stroke faster, looking at me through his eyelashes. “Yes Nicky . . . Yes . . . Oh god.” He moans my name like it’s me doing that to him and it’s too much.

“Jesus G, please, let me touch you. I want to feel your delicious cock.” But he just hisses through his teeth, throws his head back and moans even louder. All I can do is watch in awe at the beautiful creature above me in the throes of passion. He starts to thrust into his hands, moaning and muttering soft curses and my name as he does. I know from the look on his face and the sounds he’s making that he’s close. All I want to do is to touch him; I so desperately want to be the one to push him over the edge, to make him cum. “That’s it Sunshine. Faster. You know you’re nearly there.” He speeds up a bit more, then his body begins to tremble and I can feel his thighs stiffen around my legs. He takes three loud, harsh breaths and then screams my name, shooting all over my chest. He falls backwards onto his fine ass and leans against the foot of the bed, trying to get his breathing back to normal. While he does I lay there, still tied up, my cock throbbing painfully and a warm, sticky puddle on my chest. “G, that was incredible.” And he blushes and smiles softly.

“Now for part two.” He wriggles his eyebrows and goes to the bedside table.

Greg spends a couple of seconds putting the chocolate body paint, strawberries, silk scarf and squirty cream in easy reach, places the lube on the pillow next to me and then picks up the massage oil. He pulls my legs apart and sits between them.

“Now, rules for part two. You are not allowed to make a sound. Every time you do, I will find a new way to make you suffer. Are we clear?”

“Oh god yes!” I say, then realise too late I said those words out loud. Greg grins evilly and leans forward, sucking on my neck. He sucks hard, licking the spot as he does. And then I realise what he is doing and try to shake him off.

“What’s wrong? Afraid of a little hickey? I was just marking you, showing the world that you’re mine.” And he grins at me again, I can almost see those little red horns sticking out the top of his head. I glare at him, hoping to come over as menacing, but I must just look desperate as he takes pity on me for a second and palms my hard on through my now too constricting jeans. I suck in a breath and thrust up into his palm. He stays there for a few more seconds, rubbing softly, too softly, then he unzips my jeans and pulls them and my boxers off in one go. Once he has done this he sits between my legs again, staring at me.

“You know Nicky, I’ve never seen such a perfect cock before. Size, shape, everything about it. Just so right. The way it fits in my hand . . .” And he strokes it a couple of times. “The way it fits in my mouth . . .” And he lets go and sucks me into his warm wet, mouth. I bite my lip to stop myself crying out. He takes his mouth off and blows air onto my heated hard on, and it feels so damn good. “I love it when it’s buried in my ass, making me scream.” He crawls back up the bed and kisses me, hard, his tongue probing my mouth and massaging my tongue. Then he begins to lick, nibble, suck and kiss his way down my body. He ignores my cock completely but takes each ball into his mouth, rolling them around his tongue. By now I am tugging on the restraints, desperate for him to take me in his mouth again. He licks my balls softly and I can’t help but speak.

“Oh yes G, just there.” He looks up at me.

“Oh dear Nicky. Remember the rules?” Oh God, what has he got in store for me now? What can he possibly do to make me suffer more? “See this scarf?” And he holds up the silk scarf. “I was going to use it to wrap around your cock, stroke you with it, imagine it rubbing over the ridges of your dick, so soft, cool and smooth.” I moan and receive a slap to the thigh. “But now I’m going to blindfold you with it. Now not only can you not talk, but you can’t watch either.” To be honest, Greg and me both know this isn’t really making me suffer. Not being able to see just makes the sensations more intense.

Once I have been blindfolded he moves back between my legs and suddenly I can smell vanilla. He must have poured out some massage oil. And then I feel slick hands travelling from my feet, up my legs to my thighs. My god, they feel so good. He knows just how hard to touch me and which places make me shudder. He rubs his fingers into where my thighs meet my groin and I thrust up, wanting him to use those sweet hands on my dick. But instead he moves back to my feet and starts the whole process again. By now I’m thrashing my head from side to side and panting, and I know my wrists are starting to chafe, but I really don’t care. Next I hear a strange noise and suddenly my nipple is cold. A sweet smell reaches my nostrils and I know he has just coated it in squirty cream. Then I feel him do the same to the other. It’s cold and my nipples harden straight away. He is obviously pleased with this as he laughs softly and I can feel him reach across me for something. Then I can feel a trail being poured from between my hard abs all the way to my cock, where whatever he is holding is drizzled all over the tip, so much so that it begins to run down the sides. I can smell chocolate and realise that this is the body paint.

“Now Nicky. Rules for part three. Because of your earlier misdemeanour you can’t watch. But. You can talk, move, moan and scream as much as you want. The only catch is, I won’t do anything until you beg me too.” I moan loudly and shake my head. I’m not keen on begging. “Well, if that’s the way you want it, I may as well just have my dessert.” And then I can feel a strawberry being dipped into the cream on my nipples, then through the trail of chocolate. Then I can hear Greg suck the coating off then slowly eat the strawberry. He repeats this motion with a second one, then pushes the fingers covered with strawberry juice, cream and chocolate into my mouth. I suck them greedily, desperate for more.

“Oh god, G.”

“A good start, but not good enough. You have to tell me what you want.” Then he picks up another strawberry, rubs it around my nipples, making me hiss and thrust at him, then dips it into the chocolate pooling at the base of my cock. Next he slowly trails it around my mouth and pops it inside where I eat it hungrily.

“Please G.”

“Please what?”

“Lick me clean, oh god G I’m begging, lick me clean!” My self control and pride are in tatters. All I know is I want that mouth on my body right now. He starts at my nipples, licking off the cream and then sucking them hard. He gently gets the nubs between his teeth and then bites with just the right amount of pressure. I’m shivering with desire, desperate for more. The he licks his way down my body, occasionally nibbling on a muscle and sucking on a hot spot. Then he gets to my throbbing erection.

“Suck me G. Please, take me in your mouth. No one gives head like you.” And he actually does it. Maybe he has decided that I don’t need that much punishment. Or maybe he is getting lost in the moment. Because as much as he loves to tease, he loves to suck more. First he spends some time licking all around my cock, sucking and licking away all the remaining chocolate. Then slowly, agonisingly slowly, he begins to suck me into his mouth. Just the tip at first, his tongue swirling around, dipping into the slit, tasting me. He moans softly, enjoying himself. But he doesn’t take me in any further. “Please Sunshine, more. More.” And he slowly lowers his head. My god, the pressure, the suction just right. His tongue doing unspeakable things to me. He carries on, one hand moving to my balls, the other moving to the base of my cock where he begins to pump in time with the movement of his head. He hums, the vibrations from his throat carrying down my dick to the base of my spine. “Christ G, I’m close.” And with that he lets he fall from his mouth.

At first I wonder what he is doing, then I can hear the lube open and a few seconds later soft moans. My god, he’s preparing himself. And suddenly the blindfold is a pain in the ass as I would love to be watching his face right now. Just as I’m about to beg for it to be taken off I feel him lower himself onto my dick, sinking slowly until I am all the way in. He sighs, sitting still for the shortest second, then begins to ride me like he hasn’t been laid in years. He rides me fast and hard, making noises that wouldn’t be out of place in a porn film. I thrust into him, he feels so good, so tight around my throbbing, aching member that I know I can’t last long. But judging by the way Greg is going for it, he won’t either. I know I am hitting his prostate, as every time I do his muscles clench around me and his thighs twitch. Then I feel knuckles graze my stomach. Oh, sweet Jesus. Not only is he riding me, but he is jerking of at the same time.

“God Greg . . . So close . . . Want to watch . . . You cum.” Somehow he leans forward, he takes his hand off his cock, but carries on riding me. His breath is ragged, his body feels so warm against me. I know I am breathing just as fast, I feel like I’m burning up. He pulls the blindfold off and stares me straight in the eyes. His pupils are dilated and he looks glazed. He is perfect. So, so, perfect.

“Beg.” He hisses.

“What?” I manage to squeeze the word out.

“Beg. Want . . . To cum . . . But not . . . Until . . . You beg.” I look into his eyes and wonder if I can just carry on with what I am doing and make him cum anyway without having to beg. But that’s not what he wants. And right now I would do anything to make him happy.

“Please G . . . You look . . . So beautiful . . . When you cum . . . Cum for me . . . Please Sunshine . . . Cum for me.” He smiles his gorgeous, smutty smile then, while still looking deep into my eyes, he cums. The tremors of his orgasm rock through his body, setting off mine in the process. I cum hard, an incredible orgasm that feels like it’s never going to stop. We both breath heavily, chests heaving and Greg collapses on top of me, smiling, sticky and happy.

“Jesus Greg, remind me to leave boxes on the kitchen table more often if that’s how you punish me!” He giggles and slowly undoes the handcuffs, carefully massaging feeling back into my arms and kissing the chafe marks left by the metal.

“All you have to do is ask.” He says. “You can have a repeat performance any time. Just let me get some sleep in between.” I’m about to make a comment when I realise that Greg is snoring softly. I smile at him, thinking how lucky I am. Then I look around and realise how messy we both are.

“Tomorrow, I get my revenge.” I whisper to his sleeping form, brushing my nose in hair soaked with sweat, breathing in the scent of Greg. “You won’t be able to walk for a week after your morning shower . . .” And before I can finish my train of thought I’m out cold.

Now, as fun as my torture was I know Nicky is not going to let me get away with it. Two things would have gone through his head last night. One is “Oh my god, this is incredible!” and the other is “The bastard tied me up!”. Nicky does not give up control lightly, and believe me it makes the times he does even better. So, here I am having a shower and removing the remains of chocolate, cream, sweat and sex and wondering how long I will have to wait before I find out what is in store for me. Not long it would seem.

I hear the bathroom door open, and instead of the usual “Hey, G.” he doesn’t say a word. I shiver with anticipation. I hear him pad across the bathroom and next thing I know he has climbed in the shower behind me and slipped something around my neck. I reach up to see what it is. Ah, it’s the black, studded, leather collar. Right, I know where this is heading. Getting into role I immediately turn to face him, dip my head and put my hands behind my back. If he wants me submissive I will gladly give it to him. I love how strong he can be, physically, mentally and in the bedroom. Although it’s fun to be in control sometimes, one of the things I love most about him is that he is definitely in charge.

“My turn, my rules.”

“Yes, sir.” He grins at my reply, knowing I am as keen to play as him.

“You can only move with my permission. You can only make noise – and yes that includes talking – with my permission. And you do exactly what I say. Do you understand?” I don’t respond, I am playing his game. He hasn’t said I can talk. He grabs my arm, spins me around so I am sideways on and smacks my ass, not too hard, just right. “I said, do you understand? Answer me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sticky.” He says. “Get the sponge and wash me.” I reach past him, making sure I brush my body against his. I pour mint shower gel onto the sponge and squeeze it until there are bubbles, then slowly begin my ministrations.

I start at his feet, lifting each one carefully and rubbing it with the sponge. Then I move up to his ankles, then his calf muscles, trim, toned and beautiful. By the time I get to his thighs his breathing has changed and his face is beginning to flush. I move from his thighs to his stomach, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. I concentrate on the area where his stomach muscles meet his beautiful abs. He is very sensitive there. As I stroke him he lets out a gasp and shudders. As I am being submissive and looking down I can see how hard he has become but I ignore it completely. I carry on up, over his broad chest, over his shoulders, stopping to massage them gently. He moans and shudders under my fingertips before turning to let me wash his back. I slide the sponge over his ass, making sure to brush it between those sweet cheeks. He involuntarily thrusts backwards into me. “Enough.” He whispers. I drop the sponge and look at the floor again. “Wash my hair.”

I take his shampoo down from the shelf and make sure I have just enough in my hands. I slowly begin to work it into a lather, giving his scalp a tender massage. He is putty in my hands and I wonder about just ripping the collar off and taking over again, but twice in a day is too much to ask for, and honestly, when he’s in control like this we have the hottest monkey sex of all. So I keep doing what I’m doing, washing the suds away slowly, watching the foam travel down his incredible body, over his hard cock and between the cheeks of his gorgeous ass. I stifle a moan, but not quickly enough.

“Was that a moan?” I shake my head vigorously, trying not to grin. “Oh, I think it was.” He spins me around again, so easily, and my back is to him. He grabs both my wrists in one of his hands and leans over to the side of the tub where he has hidden the handcuffs I used on him last night. He snaps them over my wrists so my hands are bound behind my back. “Any more noise and you will be on your knees.” I know this is exactly what he wants, so I decide to make him wait. He decides that I need torturing.

He starts to slowly trail his fingers over the edges of my scars. The sensation is electric, the edges of my scars seem to be the most sensitive spots on my entire body. Apart from the obvious, which is currently very obvious. Then he lowers his head and begins to alternate between licking them and kissing my neck. I am panting now and looking for anything I can rub my cock against, it is throbbing with need, and he knows this. I can’t help myself, I need more.

“Nicky, please . . .” I almost sob the words, and I know what is coming next. I feel him smile against my neck.

“You broke the rules again.” He turns me to face him, and I look at the floor. “Knees. Now.” He demands. I drop to my knees, making sure he can’t see my mischievous smile. Yes, he may be in charge, but it is my mouth he wants and I’m going to enjoy driving him mad with it. “Suck me.”

I let my tongue snake out from between my lips and slowly lick the tip of his cock. He hisses above me and his hips push forward, so I lean back. I do it again, this time he keeps his hips still. I lean forward a bit and lick all the way up his shaft and listen to his breathing speed up. Next I slowly circle his erection with my lips, just the head, no further. I suck hard and swirl all around it with my tongue, letting it dip into the slit. I love the taste of Nicky, there is nothing better to wake up to. He moans throatily and decides I have teased him enough.

“Take it all G.” So I suck hard, pulling his cock into my mouth. I begin to bob my head, using my tongue to tease the sensitive underside of his dick and the by now over sensitive head. His hips begin to move as he thrusts into my mouth, one hand snakes into my hair, pulling it carefully, and the other lands on my shoulder, helping to steady him. He uses his grasp in my hair to make me work him at the speed he wants. To make him cum faster, which is something I know he doesn’t want, I hum with him deep inside my mouth. He begins to babble incoherently, which is a good sign. And when I feel his thighs tremble and he starts to praise heavenly deities, I know he is seconds away from orgasm. He pulls me off him abruptly.

“Stand.” He commands. I get to my feet quickly and easily, he knows I am very agile and flexible. “Turn around.” I do, making sure to wiggle my ass at him. He leans over the edge of the tub again and picks up a key. He undoes the handcuffs, one side at a time, and throws them to the floor. “Put your hands on the wall and open your legs.” I obey, shuddering at the thought of what is to come. I hear a noise behind me, a bottle being uncapped, and next I feel a cool finger circling my hole. “No moving.” He reminds me as I thrust onto his finger, desperate to feel it inside me. He smacks my ass again to emphasise this point and I bite my lip, almost drawing blood. Slowly, much too slowly, he eases his finger in, searching for the spot that he knows will make me break his rules. He hits it and I scream. But all he does is laugh. “Now you can talk and scream as much as you want.” He whispers into my ear. “Show me how good it feels.” He begins to push his finger gently in and out and I begin to moan, he still hasn’t told me I can move, and standing still is starting to become difficult.

“Oh Nicky . . . More . . . Please, I need more.” He gently inserts another finger, pumping them in and out of me faster and faster. And before I have time to fully adjust he adds a third. “Oh god.” I moan, thinking that if he’s not careful I could cum from this alone. And then as suddenly as they were there the fingers are gone, and I whine in frustration.

I can feel the tip of his cock against my hole and I want to push back against him, make him speed up. But I know I am not allowed to, so I stand there, hard as hell, desperate and trembling.

“Beg.” He says, and I know he is giving me a taste of my own medicine. But he knows me, and knows I have no problem begging if it gets me what I want. He also knows I have a filthy mouth and will say the things that he daren’t.

“Oh Nicky, I need you so bad. I want that hot, hard cock in my ass.” I know that if I could see his face he would be flushed, and not just from arousal but embarrassment as well. He’s still not good with hearing such dirty things vocalised. “Please Nicky, fuck me, fuck me hard, make me cum.” And that seems to be enough as he slides his dick into me in one hard thrust. I sigh in relief and he begins to thrust hard and fast into me, grunting with the effort. We are both moaning like wild animals in heat, and I know when we are finished we will need another shower. I take a hand from the wall and reach for my own throbbing erection.

“No!” He says and lifts my left leg so my foot is balanced on the edge of the bath. This changes the angle of his thrusts and he begins to hit my prostate on each one. I can feel a familiar warmth in my stomach, a tingling in my balls, white hot heat at the base of my spine.

“Nicky . . . Close . . . So close . . . Need to cum . . . Please.” But I can feel him shake his head over my shoulder. I whine but it does no good. I start reciting the periodic table in my head, writing a mental shopping list, anything to stop myself from cumming without permission. “Please . . . Please . . . Can’t hold . . . Much longer.” But again he shakes his head.

“Me . . . First.” He manages to hiss out between thrusts. My head screams, “Well hurry up then god damn it!” but I don’t say it. I am beyond speech right now. He thrusts turn erratic so I begin to squeeze his dick with my internal muscles, knowing this will speed him up. Then I feel his teeth on my shoulder and a stifled moan and I can feel liquid heat deep inside me. This is all I need and I scream Nicky’s name and cum over the wall of the shower.

We slide to the bottom of the bath together, panting, sticky and satisfied. Sometimes revenge is a dish best served wet.