Page 8 of Disciplinary Action
Gideon laid on his back, his arm out, hoping the boy understood. He seemed to come to some internal decision before sliding back, lying down beside Gideon, his head resting in the crook of his arm. He was as still as a statue. Gideon turned just enough to slide a finger down the center of Cal’s chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Gideon met his gaze. “Touching you.”
“Oh.”
Gideon ran his palm along the boy’s belly before teasing his fingers along his ribs, swiping over one nipple and then the other. There was no intent. He wasn’t looking for anything more. He just liked the way the boy’s head fell back, lips parted, eyelids at half-mast, like he reveled in just being touched.
Skin starved.
It was a term used to explain the biological effects of being denied physical comfort. Cal was skin starved. But just like earlier, with each sweep of Gideon’s hand, with every caress, the tension melted away.
Cal’s response had Gideon’s cock at attention, pressed against the boy’s thigh, but Gideon ignored it. Cal did not. He wrapped his palm around Gideon’s length, stroking him hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure it was okay. Gideon smiled down at him, pushing that one stubborn lock of hair from the boy’s eyes. “Did I give you permission to touch me, little bird?”
“Can I, Daddy?” he asked, swiping his thumb across the tip of Gideon’s cock.
“It certainly appears that way,” Gideon countered. “But what do you intend to do with it?”
The boy rose onto his knees before turning himself so that Gideon’s cock was close enough to feel the boy’s breath. “Can I, Daddy?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
Cal ran his tongue along the underside of Gideon’s cock like a boy licking an ice cream cone, closing his lips over the head and sucking noisily. Gideon groaned as Cal’s head bobbed, his hand closing over the base of Gideon’s cock, holding him steady.
“Fuck. Yes, that’s a good boy. Can you take more?”
Cal dipped his head, forcing Gideon’s cock to the back of his throat before gagging and pulling back, spittle on his lips and chin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You just need practice. Just go slow and breathe through your nose.”
The look of concentration on the boy’s face had Gideon stifling a smile. He looked like he was attempting to understand quantum physics. Once more, the boy’s lips sealed over Gideon’s erection, taking him deeper with each dip of his head, his hand keeping time with his mouth.
“That’s it. That’s it, baby. A little more. Shit, that’s it. You’re doing so well. So good. So good for me,” he praised more for the boy’s benefit than his own. It was clear somebody had starved Cal of much more than just touch.
Gideon bent his knees, his hand tangling in Cal’s hair, holding him still so he could fuck into the boy’s mouth with short, shallow thrusts. Cal made a whiny noise that vibrated all the way to Gideon’s balls. Fuck. The boy really was made for this. Gideon couldn’t remember ever having been with anybody so responsive. He imagined all the things he could teach Cal, the ways he could use his body, teach him the power of submitting. He let go of Cal’s hair, warning him. “I’m close.”
Cal’s look of determination almost made Gideon smile. The boy gripped his thighs, sucking harder, working him faster, until Gideon tipped over the edge for a second time, his hips moving in tiny aborted thrusts as he came down Cal’s throat. The boy swallowed it all, every drop, looking so proud of his accomplishment.
When he pulled off, he collapsed next to Gideon with a smile, side-eyeing him as if he wasn’t sure he did well. Gideon couldn’t help but lean down and kiss him, the taste of his seed still clinging to the boy’s lips and tongue. “Be careful, little bird.”
“Too much teeth?” Cal asked, flushing.
“No, but you shouldn’t be doing that without a condom either. I’m negative but you didn’t know that. Just in case you explore with anybody else.”
The boy’s mood soured. “I won’t be doing this with anybody else.”
“No?” Gideon asked, more confused than ever. “No more working for Hillary?”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“Oh, I’d say you’re quite suited for this but perhaps not for money. You’re very young. Do you not have a family? Friends who could help you?”
“It was my friend who got me this job. But I doubt every client will be like you.”
Gideon placed his hand on the boy’s chest. “Like me?”
“Yeah. Hot, rich, hung, sweet,” Cal said, looking anywhere but at Gideon.
