Page 79 of Slayer

“Alexa, rename the playlist to 'slave boy's wiggle songs' please.”

“Oh, much better.” But I can't dispute the beat. Knox knows how to pick a song with just enough beat to dance to, with the right tempo to keep it slow and sexy.

It feels like quite the role reversal to be the one dressed while he is naked and confined, I doubt it will be a regular occurrence. Letting the rhythm flow through me, I sway, catching hold of the end bedpost and swinging out. My legs lift over the bed, until I meet the floor on the other side. I'm not sure how much pole dancing the bed frame will take, but a little showing off does wonders to raise the anticipation.

fifty-three

Knox

Howthisboyknowswhat to do is beyond me. His moves are well practised and memorised, but so natural and fluid. He grinds against the bedpost, while bending himself over backwards so I am both aroused and in awe. His top is over his head, his bare chest certainly adds to my view, it's removal such an effortless and sexy part of his movements. For someone who doesn't strip, he opens his trousers like a sex god. Delicious strips of flesh appear and disappear as he moves, the trousers drop without impeding his dancing. I have honestly never considered exotic dancing to be an art form before. Finally, my boy is naked and God I've longed for this moment for the past two songs. Not because I was impatient for him to get on with it, but because I was so drawn into the performance. As he starts crawling his way up my body, his moves change. My last lap dance was sexy, but distant because we were both dressed. He didn't hold back, but it was definitely just work in his mind. This time it is love, or at the very least lust. This time he is touching me, his hands draw across my body as he moves, his grinding hips now more intimate than ever without clothes between us. His lips press lightly over my belly, drawing my attention to the dressing covering the left side. I'm so lucky the bullet didn't do any real damage, I owe Porter my life, yet instead, he has given me his.

“You are so sexy and beautiful. I hope no one told you that before, but now you will hear it every day.”

“No one has ever meant it before.” Porter's breath hits my skin like a burst of heat, raising goosebumps across my abdomen.

“I want to touch you.” But he's so lost in his dance, straddled across my hips, I don't want to get in the way. He's practically lying across my body, only holding himself on his knees. The muscular control needed to do that is phenomenal, but if I break his concentration, it’s my abdomen he lands on.

“Shut up and think sexy stuff,” Porter groans, continuing his devious pelvic rolls.

“I need to fuck you, treasure. I think you'll want me hands on for that.”

“No touching. Pretend you're tied to the bed like my helpless slave for once, or I might just go to bed next door.”

“But-”

“Nope. You're resting,” Porter interrupts. “Tell me where the lube is.”

“Very naughty boy. I might just have to spank you.” I try to reach for the draw in the dresser but it's no use, I am Porter's helpless slave.

“Tonight is the only night I'm ever likely to get away with this. You don't think I'd miss any of it, do you?”

“You're far too bratty for that.” I knew so little about him when he first attacked me at his front door, but I knew he'd be perfect. I don't know how, but I was right.

Porter preps himself, somehow balancing across my hips and almost folding himself backwards in half. He's well practised at this; his guttural plead is like music to my ears.

“I'm ready,” he groans, panting from his own efforts.

“Tell me what you need, treasure.”

“Don't move.” His hands turn their attention to my cock. Hard and aroused from his performance, his touch is all I need. Porter moves closer, mounting himself over me. Letting him do all the work is out of character for me but I'm loving every minute of this.

Porter slides himself down, taking me inside, in the novice way that reminds me this is all fairly new to him. He isn't a hooker; he isn't even a stripper. He is mine and watching him ride my cock is a special privilege.

“Such a good boy, keep going, just like that. Be a slut for my cock, boy.”

“Yes, yes, I'm your slut. I'm a dirty boy for your cock sir.”

“Nope. No talking.” This boy moves like a god but talks like a monkey. I will fix that one day, but not today. “Shut up and fuck yourself.”

“Yes sir, I'll fuck myself on your big juicy cock.” Porter moves up and down, rolling his body in a sexy movement that feels divine on my big juicy cock.

“Damn it boy, I can reach the gag, you know.” I can’t but he gets my point.

“Yes please, Sir.”

His desires do wicked things to my body. It turns out with that kind of motivation; I can reach the contraption after all. He leans forward and allows me to fit the ball in his mouth and buckle it behind his head.

“Good boy,” I praise him. My treasure loves praise as much as he loves fucking himself on my cock. “Now you only have one task.”

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