Page 17 of Billion Dollar Love: Manlove Edition

Instead, I feel the wet tip of his tongue on my head.

Oh, fuck, please yes. This time. Please suck me ‘til I come.

When his mouth is around my shaft, it’s wonderful; though, of course, he’s teasing. My torture is about to ramp up. He’s taken off the mask, and his forehead buries in my pelvis. He nuzzles the base of my cock and ignores most of the shaft. If I could make myself come now, through force of will, I’d drench his shoulder and his neck. Stain his black robe. But I need more… I need…

He wraps his lips around the tip of my cock and tongues the ridge of my head. He pulls my jeans off, just far enough for his fingers to explore my ass. I accept his invasion without hesitation, hardly aware of any pain because he’s torturing my cock. Light flickers of his tongue, the trace of his teeth, then a deep long suck that makes my whole body rattle with lust.

I pump my cock deeper, fuck his face, but he slams his hands on my hip and cuts all contact. I whine, missing his lips on my cock, his fingers in my ass. My own fault. I should not disrespect Mr. Ito, not when he’s kind enough to pleasure me.

To torture me.

He returns. More fingers. More forcefully inside my ass. More delicate on my cock.

Still, I race to orgasm. I don’t trust him to let me come. I stifle my moan, praying I can surprise him. But he’s onto me. When my begging strangles into a strained silence, he slips away.

I pant and thrash in full force, an angry rant of muffled vowels and restrained limbs. When I’ve exhausted my tantrum, I heave a petulant sigh and give a final resigned flail. Then I lie helpless before his power, ready to cry from how much I want this. Utterly broken.

Mr. Ito gently kisses my neck, lifts my legs over his shoulder, and leads his cock inside.

“Yes, please. Oh, God, please…” The gag garbles my joy, but Mr. Ito understands.

He’s not gentle, but I wouldn’t want him to be. Fast and hard and deep. His arms wrap around my knees, bowing me in half. He pants on my neck, and he’s so filling, pushing so fast and deep.

Then I’m coming, a total shattering. For a moment, the pleasure is so intense it’s painful. I fly out of my own self on a wave of stolen bliss. Any resistance left hiding in my body surrenders at once to this master of my lusts. I’ve never come like that in my life, unaided, pushed over the edge just by another’s man’s cock.

Jesus, I’m lost entirely.

I’d probably kill Carlos myself to be fucked like this again.

****

When Mr. Ito’s finished with me—and he takes a good long time to be finished with his toy—he removes the ball-gag but doesn’t bother with the hood or the cuffs. I flit between awareness and sleep. My dreams are so sensual I’m not sure when he actually stopped playing with me and what I dreamed.

But I know I’m awake when my alarm buzzes. Precious few other people have “Libertango” as a ring-tone.

He’s in the shower. I’m still so exhausted, I don’t try to figure a way out of the cuffs or the blindfold. I remain where he left me, totally used, jeans gathered around my thighs, shirt rolled around my neck. Waiting for the master to tidy up and put his toy away for the day. To give me back to myself.

The shower dies, and a short while later he walks into the room.

I greet him cheerfully. “Morning, boss.”

He says nothing.

Shit. Even after all that punishment, he’s still not satisfied.

Mr. Ito removes the blindfold first.

He’s dressed for work, a slick beige suit with a crisp white shirt, but his frown is stern under the implacable mask.

I give him my sweetest smile. “Ito-sama, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?”

“Carlos.”

He looks down at me, the ridges of the mask nearly hiding his eyes. I’m deeply aware he could keep me tied to this bed as long as he likes. That I’d miss my classes and an audition and rehearsal. That he could do worse than fuck me if he wanted.

This passing fear must reach my face because Mr. Ito leans over and does something halfway up the chain. Both cuffs release at once. Trick cuffs. Just toys.

With my hands free, I fix my jeans and then my shirt. He never even fully undressed me. The shame I completely lacked yesterday threatens to drown me.

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