“Good morning, Master,” Dane whispers just as my eyes open to greet the day, this most wonderful day.
“How long have you been up?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see the clock,” he answers.
Did he really spend the entire night engulfed by my body? Did he sleep at all? Crap, if he falters at rehearsal because of me, I’ll—
“So, Master,” he starts, smiling up at me, “am I exempt from this morning’s email or did you need me to tell you about my night’s rest?”
“I’ll accept your oral report today.” As soon as the words pass my lips, my cock seals the deal—I’m not leaving this bed without a blowjob.
Sidetracked by his devotion to the daily assignment, Dane misses the double entendre entirely. Happily, his answer pleases me nearly as much as the service he’s about to perform. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. Months, actually.”
“Me too, Dane.” It’s too soon to tell him how great it feels to wake up wrapped around him. Right?
Enough with the mush; there’s a pair of erections needing immediate attention. It’s good to be the king.
“Time to put that beautiful mouth to work, boy. Your Master needs a wake-up call.”
Dane’s enthusiasm to please me is hands down the sexiest thing about him, I acknowledge as he shimmies down my body, trailing wet kisses from my breast bone to his final destination. He lingers a few seconds with his tongue in my belly button, moving south with a soft chuckle only when I buck my hips impatiently. As his lips glide down my shaft, it occurs to me that I am having way more fun than I ever have before—maybe too much?—but it all feels so right and so good, I wonder briefly if my “strict dom” tendencies are gone for good. Not exactly a moment for thoughts of great importance. Unbound, Dane is free to work me over with both hands in addition to his warm, eager mouth. My last thought before bursting is that he’s become incredibly effective at getting me off.
Nestled between my thighs, Dane suckles me lovingly while all my vitals return to normal. I reach for the soft jumble of his hair. “I’m officially awake.”
With one last, playful nudge of his nose, Dane lifts his face. “Good morning again, Master.”
“It is.” I push the last of the covers over his back. “I want to watch you, Dane. Up on your haunches for me.”
I’m not surprised by the slight hesitation, but he recovers quickly enough that I don’t have to repeat the command. While Dane pops onto his knees and settles back onto his ankles, I prop my head up with an extra pillow and clasp my hands behind my neck. “Go ahead, boy; you know what I want.”
He reaches for his rigid shaft, dropping his gaze to his hand while it starts a slow, rhythmic pump. His mouth stiffens into a solemn line while the pleasure drains out of him right before my eyes.
“Look at me, Dane,” I coax. “That’s better.” My eyes track his long, elegant fingers as they lift and swirl, curl and rub. “I bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” Judging from his weeping cock, it feels very good indeed.
“Mmm, I think I could get used to waking up to all this. What do you think, my boy? A nice blowjob for your Master, followed by a private performance?”
All the signs are there: the half-drooping eyelids, the slightly unhinged jaw, the unconscious bob of his hips, the mounting pressure in his thighs, the tightened grip of his fist.
“You know how much I love to watch you come, don’t you, Dane?”
“Yesss, Master,” he hisses, nearing the edge. Such a beautiful, perfect specimen he is, and the best part is he’s letting go so much easier now.
“Do it for me, Dane. I’m watching. Give me what I want.”
Faster and harder, it’s almost punishing the way his hand doesn’t relent—as if he’s afraid he’ll lose his erection if he does. He screws his mouth up and draws the corner between his teeth. My attention ping pongs between his face and the action below until he gets close, and then it’s not even a contest—I meet his eye and hang on until he’s over the crest.
“That’s beautiful, Dane. You are so beautiful when you come.”
With a low, restrained growl, Dane pumps himself furiously and releases several short spurts of creamy fluid over his tight fist. The moment the final drop leaves his body, Dane loosens his grip and reaches around his body to clasp both hands behind his back. His cock quivers unattended with the aftershocks of pleasure, certainly not the shepherded journey through afterglow he granted me. We have time to work on it, I assure myself, pleased at the progress we’ve made together in just a few short weeks.
“Beautiful job, Dane,” I say, dragging my eyes north with Herculean effort. “Come on. We can both use a shower.”
I’m a bit torn as I step into the shower stall behind him. Give or take? Nurture my sub or stay on the receiving end of his attention? Either way, we both win. In the end, I opt for Dane to do the work this morning, signaling my intent by handing him the washcloth and shower gel and waiting under the hot stream while he soaps me up and scrubs every inch of exposed skin. Fifteen minutes later, we emerge, clean and fully relaxed.
“I bought us some yogurt and granola, or if you like, we can head downstairs and find a deli.”
“Thank you, Master. Yogurt is perfect before rehearsal.” As if he needs to remind me where he’s headed, dressed in his snug black leggings and white tank.
I sit Dane down at the small table and set our breakfast out. “Coffee?” I ask.
“No, thank you. Coffee and dancing don’t mix well for me.”
No coffee. Plain Greek yogurt with high protein granola. Bottled water at room temperature. He sleeps without moving an inch. Little things learned and filed away, details that link together and form a chain from one person to the next.
“I’ll pick up some berries today,” I promise.
“This is fine. I appreciate it.” He looks over at me, waiting for me to start eating before he will. I oblige. I’ll get my coffee outside later.
“What time do you have to leave?”
“I should be on my way by eleven.” Dane brings a spoonful to his mouth.
“You’ll be done the same time as last night?”
“Mmhmm.” He eats quietly, taking up no more space in the room than the physical area needed for his body. Years of training.
He has his training; I have mine. My mind leaps forward to our reunion tonight, every sensory input engaged in the imagining. The warmth of his lips meeting my chilled mouth as he emerges from the back door. His mildly gamey scent after a hard day and night’s work. The slightly tangy taste of the skin just behind his ear. The lift in his voice when he finds me in the crowd. The hot flush of his cheeks, the guarded smile, the remains of stage makeup outlining his features.
“I like you in eye liner.” Wow. Did I just say that out loud?
Dane’s eyebrows lift along with his spoon. “Did you want me to leave it on, Master?”
My cock tingles, and I have my answer. “Yes.”
He nods. “Is it okay if I bring the makeup remover back to the hotel? It’s not good for my eyes to sleep in the liner.”
We’re both lost in thought as we finish our breakfast. This in-between, post-scene, pre-real-life space is new for us. It requires a certain breaking in, but I have a good feeling this new reality will mold itself around us like a favorite pair of slippers—though not without a bit of effort.
“What are you thinking about, Dane?”
He looks up guiltily from his bowl. “Sorry, Master. I was thinking about work.”
“That’s fine. Want to talk about it?”
“We don’t have to.”
Again, it strikes me I don’t know who Dane does talk to about things. No one, probably. I can only demand so much of him: sexual subservience, deference, honesty—those are within my realm. He’s certainly entitled to his personal thoughts. Hell, I’d encourage him to hold back, considering where he’s been. The selfish bastard in me wants all of him though. No, it’s not that I want to possess him exactly; I want to be his person to trust with every secret, every concern, every thought. And I want him to be mine.
So I forge ahead with the full intention of letting go quickly if he’s not willing. “I was thinking, Dane, about your dilemma with the female.”
Hearing eagerness in his response, I’m encouraged to press on. “It seems to me yours would be a fairly common problem. Aren’t many of the performers gay?”
“So, is there someone you could ask, say, the guy who’s in the role now . . . how he manages?”
He sets his spoon down to the side of the bowl and considers my words as if the idea never occurred to him. “I guess.”
“Isn’t that something I’m supposed to know already? I mean, it’s kind of like asking someone how to walk.”
There’s so much screwed up about his thinking, I don’t even know where to begin. Gentle, Marcus. Falling back on the strategy that seems to work most successfully, I give Dane a piece of myself.
“You might find this hard to believe, Dane, but I wasn’t always the masterful master you see before you today.”
He cracks a grin and settles into his chair for a story. “Do tell, Master.”
“I didn’t exactly pop out of the womb swinging a riding crop. I was smart enough to recognize that I had no idea what I was doing. I hate to remind you of my age, but there was no Internet when I was starting out, no Google or YouTube or Wikipedia.”
“Right. We learned about the Stone Age in school.”
“Careful. There’s still plenty of time to turn you over my knee.”
He turns bright red, and we both shift about in our chairs. Fuck me, this boy has a spanking in his near future.
“Anyway,” I say in as scathing a manner as possible, given my burgeoning erection and inconvenient fantasy, “in those times of uncertainty, I would find myself a mentor. Someone I could trust to have the information and the discretion necessary to help me through.”
My ever-shifting Dane doll turns moony and awed. “And now you’re the one everyone calls for help.”
On top of my ill-timed arousal, I’m blushing like a girl. I’m guessing my face is about the same hue as my scarlet sweater. “Something like that.”
“You think I should ask Rob how he fakes liking girls?”
“Is he the best?”
Dane glances over my shoulder and shrugs. “I don’t really know. What did you think of his performance?”
If possible, my blush deepens. “I wasn’t really paying attention to anyone else.”
And then Dane smiles, the sweetest, most humble smile ever. But his response is even more satisfying. “I’ll think about it.”
With that discussion behind us, we both pick up our spoons again, and the small room is filled with soft clinking and quiet reflection.
“Mind if I ask you something, Master?”
“Fire away,” I answer, glad for the change of topic.
“Are you staying in the city today?”
“Yes, I’m planning on hanging around all week, taking a bit of a vacation.” Why not? I am newly retired; might as well try it on for size.
“May I ask what you are going to do while I’m working?”
“Sure you may, but I don’t know exactly. I always have an unofficial New York to-do list running in my head. Probably hit a museum or two.”
“Which?” he asks swiftly.
“The Natural History Museum is probably my favorite. I never get tired of it. Who knows, maybe I identify with the dinosaurs.”
I’m hoping for a chuckle, maybe slightly eager for him to go off on my little dig, but no way was I expecting him to go quiet on me.
“What’s up, Dane?”
He puts on his I-don’t-have-the-right-to-feel-this-way frown. “It’s nothing, Master.”
“‘Nothing’ looks important. Would you share please?”
He sets down his spoon and places his hands flat on the table beside his bowl. “This is me being selfish.”
“Dane, I don’t honestly believe you know how.”
“Okay, fine. I’ve always wanted to go to the Natural History Museum.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my smile. “You don’t want me to go without you?”
He shrugs his shoulders and sighs. “Told you.”
I see the two of us wandering from exhibit to exhibit, exploring and learning together, maybe even . . . dare I envision us holding hands? Jesus, you are getting sappy, old man. “I will happily save that outing for you. Let’s go on Monday.”
“Of course. I’m pretty sure I can find some other way to occupy myself today.”
His face clouds up again. “I guess I didn’t think about how hard this would be, having you so close.”
Who wouldn’t be insanely flattered by such a comment? “I hope you won’t be distracted.” As much as I will.
He seriously considers my comment. A slow smirk creeks onto his lips. “Maybe it would help if I knew you weren’t doing anything fun . . .”
It would be irresponsible of me to let him in on what I’ll spend most of my day doing—planning our next scene, measuring every detail, fantasizing about having his naked, writhing body in my hands.
“In that case, Dane, I’ll just sit here alone in the hotel room—in the dark.”
The grin blossoms into a full-blown smile. “Perfect.”