Page 88 of Various Intentions
I had Matteo kneel behind Vincent, with his cuffs attached to a D-ring in the bed frame above him. The posture collar meant that he couldn’t look at Vincent—only at the wall behind the bed. But I’m sure he remembered how Vincent had looked, and that image was going to torture him for the next little while, as he hung there, unable to take advantage of Vincent’s vulnerability.
Matteo’s erection bumped against Vincent’s ass as I placed a ball gag between his lips. “Mmm-hmm. Are you starting to see where I’m going with this?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the wall.
Vincent cursed. He could feel the slick head of Matteo’s cock slide against the skin of his hip. So close, but not in the spot he wanted it. He couldn’t back himself any closer.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said. I went upstairs and got the large ice pack from the freezer. It was a foot square. When I got back to the basement, I slipped it onto the bed, directly under Vincent’s belly and his arching cock.
“I’ve put an ice pack right underneath you, Vincent, just in case you get any ideas about changing your position.”
Vincent gasped, as if he couldn’t believe the depths of my depravity.
“Have fun, guys. I’m leaving you here for an hour.”
I placed a round bell into Matteo’s palm.
“I’ll leave the door open, so if either of you needs to safeword, I’ll hear you. Oh, wait.”
I brought over a bottle of lube and proceeded to grease Vincent’s hole, making as much noise as I could, so Matteo would understand what I was doing.
“I’m just getting him ready for you, Matteo. All slicked up and shiny and desperate. If only you could figure out how to get your dick into him.”
Vincent groaned as I stretched and probed him, while Matteo made hopeless noises and pulled on his restraints.
“Here… I’ll even lube up your cock, Matteo,” I said, doing just that, while he tried to avoid me and whined with frustration.
I smoothed some lube over Matteo’s erection and left to dry my hands. I returned to check their positions, making sure they were near enough to touch, just not close enough to converge. I had to congratulate myself on the ingenious piece of predicament bondage.
Matteo’s cock arched against his belly and bumped into Vincent’s ass whenever Matteo shifted.
“Have fun,” I said, slapping Matteo on the backside and withdrawing to the sounds of heavy breathing and a frustrated curse from Vincent.
I went upstairs and into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Best to get my mind off what was going on or I’d have to go get myself off. As I often did when I found it difficult to leave my men alone for the time required, I called Daphne.
“Hey, Nic. What’s up?”
I laughed. “Oh, two very frustrated penises, at the moment.”
“Do tell!”
I described the basement bondage scenario.
“Oh, that’s so evil. I love it!”
“I haven’t heard anything from down there, so I assume they’re okay with it.”
“How long are you leaving them like that?”
“An hour. Then I’ll go in and see if they want me to lend a hand.”
Daphne laughed. “I’m sure they will.”
“So, how are things with you?”
“Oh Nic. Am-az-ing!”
“Good! Plans for the wedding going well?”
