Page 28 of Resist Me Not
He nods, visibly relaxing further.
I blindfold him as planned, and though he tenses slightly, he keeps his breathing even and waits like the good boy he is for what to do next. I take a pillow from the sofa and drop it between us and then lower him onto it. His knees are bare, after all, and it’s only polite. I undo my belt, and after hearing the telling clink of the buckle, Walker licks his lips.
“Now... open up, my good boy, and take what I give you.”
His plush lips are so very pretty when they part.
I feed him the wine first, careful when pressing the glass to his lips and tip it back slowly. I can see how he holds it in his cheeks and opens his mouth again, waiting for more. I don’t make him wait long. I feed him my cock slowly, letting him savor its hardening length, the bit of precome already at its tip, and the way it swells when his lips close around it.
If he was still feeling frightened by the dark, he has forgotten it now. He sucks me right down, so keyed up, I can feel his built-up saliva mixing with the wine, making the wet slide easy as he bobs. I love the chill and the muted heat from his mouth beyond it.
Walker’s hands twitch up but hover, unsure if I want the assist or for him to only use his mouth. I debate for a moment, and then say, “Go ahead. You can use your hands.”
He feels his way to my base, one hand closing around it to squeeze, the other cupping my sac. He swallows that first gulp of wine finally and smacks his lips like he wants more.
“Another drink, doctor?” I ask with a newfound husk to my voice.
Walker tongues my tip before nodding.
I give it to him, another mouthful that he holds in his cheeks, and the renewed chill of the wine meeting my hot flesh makes me shiver. Walker sucks and sucks, working me with his fingers too. When he swallows the next time, a dribble leaks from the corner of his mouth.
I swipe it with my thumb, comb through his hair with my other hand, and while he continues to swallow me down with the wine, I smear the mix of Chardonnay, spittle, and precome up his scar. Then I hold him still, pull out from between his lips, and bend to lick the scar like earlier, tasting him and me mixed together in the tannins.
Walker’s now reddened lips remain parted and shiny so near to me. It’s a beautiful look on him, and I kiss his lips again too.
He groans from far more than a mere kiss. I glance down to see him squeezing some of the pressure from his own cock.
“Ah, ah,” I warn, a bit breathless but still steady. “Only I get to touch you.”
“Yes, Daddy,” he answers more huskily than me.
“Good boy. Are you still okay with the blindfold?”
“Yes.”
I know he means it. “It can be nice sometimes, can't it?” I comb my fingers through his hair again. “Freeing… to not have to think but to simply do as told and know you will be taken care of? At least when you trust the one giving the orders. Do you trust me, doctor?”
Walker seems to truly contemplate the question, perhaps thinking over all the reasons he was hesitant tonight and showed up early. In the end, he licks his lips and nods. “I trust you.”
He means that too. How fascinating.
And I am so, so glad that he does.
“On your feet,” I order. “It’s time to take this into the bedroom.”
I help him up, since his legs are shaky with the need for release. I need to release too, but I can wait. I step out of my pants and underwear and kick off my shoes. I’ll retrieve them later. I want to lick up every inch of Walker with my tongue still coated in wine.
I think I will.
I grab the glass I had been feeding him from off the coffee table and start to lead him by the hand, but not before taking a good long look at the view of him from the back.
This is the first time I am seeing his tattoo since my little peek through his ex’s window. The Rod of Asclepius, as I imagined it was, starts right where Walker’s spine would normally be hidden by a shirt collar and goes all the way down to between his hips, practically to his tail bone. The outline of his spinal cord is all electric blue like the glimpse I saw that day, the rod and snake winding around it done in expertly shaded black and gray.
It's like an X-ray of himself, an exposed nerve that says the backbone of all he is, is his chosen profession.
Just like me.
“Um… are you going to keep me blindfolded the whole time?” Walker asks as we move into the bedroom.
