Tall, dark, and handsome finishes his song and kisses the girl. Turning to the audience, he shakes his head. “This is all wrong.” Sweaty and heaving from dancing and bright lights, the sexy dancer shields his eyes from the spotlights and searches the dark seats. ‘Over here!’ my dick answers, straining against my trousers.
The dancer’s head jerks toward me, and a bright smile spreads across his face. “Found you!” he cries, jumping off the front of the stage, scissor kicking from chair to chair, leaping over astonished faces while the crowd turns to watch the spectacle.
My heart beats wildly against my ribcage; the theater has become unbearably warm. He’s right in front of me. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was working.”
I try to tell him it’s okay; I would’ve waited forever, but my words won’t come out.
“I need to have you right away!” He sinks to his knees; clothes fall away. His lips surround me, moist heat. Feels so good. His hands, his tongue . . . can’t hold back . . .
“Happy birthday, Master.”
“Hmm?” I look toward the source of the voice—a beautiful face just to the south of my enormously satisfied birthday cock. Dane. My birthday present to end all birthday presents.
Propping myself up onto my elbows, I stare him down. I’m sure I’d be more effective if the sheet didn’t stop just below those two little dimples on his lower back. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he placed it there on purpose. Hell, I don’t know better; I was asleep! “What have you done, boy?”
Dane chuckles, a gentle quake between my legs. “Pretty much the same thing I always do, Master. I just didn’t wait for your order this morning. I hope it’s okay.”
Yeah, I’m gonna be angry at that face? After what he just did? Hell, he’s still got a trail of cum at the side of his mouth.
“You know, you’re getting a little cheeky, boy, taking liberties like that.”
Undaunted in the least, he pops up onto his knees, revealing a lovely erection at the ready. The sheet slides off his back and sinks behind him. “Yes, Master, but I wasn’t sure you’d wake up in time.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s 7:03. We have to be at the center at 8:30, and I thought you’d want to eat first.”
“Okay, okay. Give me a kiss and all will be forgiven.” There’s not the least bit of snap to my comment, and Dane’s eager smile as he climbs around my legs tells me he knows he’s done nothing but please me.
“Hang on,” I say, swiping my thumb along the side of his mouth. “Okay. Now you may kiss me.”
“Thank you, Master,” he replies before pressing his sweet lips to mine. “All right, Dane, I’m ready for my show. Let’s see you dance your ass to the shower.”
I lean back onto the pillow, hands clasped behind my head, big shit-eating grin waiting to erupt on my face. Dane looks even more excited than usual. Crouched at my side, he gives me a quick wink, then rolls away in a backward somersault to the edge of the bed, sucking my breath along with it. When he runs out of mattress, his legs extend straight up; his arms push up into a perfect handstand on the bed before flinging him several feet away. He sticks an Olympic-worthy landing, arms in a victorious “v” and everything.
“Jesus Christ, Dane! Did you want me to live to see my next birthday?”
“Yes, Master,” he says, laughing all the way to the bathroom. I have half a mind to throw my pillow at that cute little ass, but instead, I pull it around my head and catch another couple minutes of bliss-induced sleep while he showers.
Dane’s smile is even brighter when I slip past him to the shower. “Happy birthday, Master.” It’s going to be a long fucking wonderful day, but probably not until we’ve gotten past his appointment with Eleazar. He’s doing an admirable job setting aside his anxieties, if he has any, but then Dane’s a bit of an expert at denial.
He’s naked as the day he was born, waiting for me in his submissive stance as I exit the shower and wrap the towel around my waist. “May I help you get dressed this morning, Master?”
Where is this coming from? Stall tactics, birthday offering, or something more? I’ve never required this level of attentiveness from him. As usual, it’s hard to separate what Dane is doing for me from what Dane needs for himself, and I’m not sure he’d be able to differentiate between the two, but it’s my job to do so—for the boy’s own good. Until I figure it out, I’ll take what he’s offering.
“Sure, Dane. What’s the dress code for the day?”
He grins. “Sexy casual. Basically, anything you own that’s not too dressy.”
I roll my eyes and start to dry off.
He snaps forward and grabs the towel, patting me down until I’m thoroughly dried and semi-hard. I lead him over to the bureau, open the top drawer, and toss a pair of boxer briefs over to Dane, which he snags out of the air with one hand. We stare at each other and grin for a second before I open the second drawer, where my old heather pullover has been waiting to see the light of the day. Why not?
“Not sure exactly if this qualifies as sexy. What do you think?” Ugh, there goes my manhood. Did I just ask my submissive if my shirt is sexy? I should hang my head in shame.
“Hmm,” Dane says, holding the shirt up by the shoulders and eyeing me. This could be a problem.”
“I’m not sure I can keep my hands off you once you put this on.”
“I see the bullshit factor has gone sky high for the day. Go get my dark jeans out of the closet, and grab my boots while you’re there.”
“You got it.”
I can only stand here laughing. “Yes, Master” has already degenerated into “You got it,” and it’s not even eight yet. As I said, a long, fucking wonderful day lies ahead.
Dane gets me into my briefs and shirt without incident, but when it comes time to fasten my jeans, he starts the zipper up without tucking me properly away. My knee comes up and catches him in the gut, and despite the fact that he is enormously gifted in the balance department, he takes us both down. We end up on the floor, holding our bellies and laughing.
“You’re fired as my butler, Dane.”
“Sorry, Master.” He rolls over so our faces are almost touching. He makes an attempt at serious. “I didn’t realize what was happening down there.”
“Honestly? What did you think would be happening down there? You’re stark naked and I’m . . . alive! End of story.”
“That’s a pretty good knee you got there, Master.”
“Years of self-defense training. Sorry about that.”
“So, let’s see—zipping up my balls, tackling me to the floor . . . What other surprises do you have planned for me today?”
He grins. “If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises.”
“How about you scoot a little bit closer so I can give you a kiss, and then put some clothes on before we both end up in the Emergency Room?”
“Whatever you say, birthday boy.”
All right, that’s enough.
He shimmies closer and I grab his chin in my hand. “That’s ‘birthday boy Master’ to you.”
I did not see this coming.
We walk inside the reception area, and Dane gives his name at the desk. So far, so good. He’s slightly jittery, a little more serious all of a sudden, but nothing I need to worry about. A heavy door opens and Eleazar comes out, shakes Dane’s hand, gives me a quick nod, and off the two go, back from whence he came, swallowed up by the click of the security door closing with an air of finality.
That’s when it hits me: I could lose everything.
What the hell was I thinking encouraging this? What if this doc has it in for dominants or the lifestyle? How did I just turn over our future to a man I’ve never met, someone Dane trusts to tell him what’s what?
For all my careful planning, this has to be the biggest bonehead move of my life. Christ!
I pull off my coat and hang it over the brass coat stand by the door. We’re going to be here a while, thanks to me and my big, bossy mouth, so I might as well try to get comfortable. I drop into one of the black chairs against the side wall and open the poetry book to the table of contents. The names swim across my lap, words on a page that aren’t making any sense.
I shut the book and pace until the room closes in on me. I need to get out of here. “Please let them know I stepped outside,” I tell the young boy behind the desk before grabbing my coat and making quick work of the heavy wooden door between me and fresh air.
If I smoked, this would be an excellent time for a cigarette. I pace to the corner, do an about face, and march the whole block in the opposite direction. The rush hour Manhattanites aren’t impressed with my sharp pivot on the crowded sidewalk, but I don’t have any shits left to give them. I seriously need to get a grip.
The top step leading up to the building’s entrance is removed enough from foot traffic to offer a place to sit. Rainbow flags fly overhead from the brick façade as I arrange myself on the cold cement slab. My jeans are nowhere near as accommodating as my gi, but I do my best to achieve a proper posture and pray Fran doesn’t happen to walk by and see me.
Embryonic breathing . . . clearing away the clutter . . .
Trust the doc; trust Dane; trust yourself.
Inhaaaaaaale . . . exhale. Innnnnnnnnnnn . . . out.
“Hmm?” Dane’s voice slices through the bubble of safety I’ve begun constructing. “Oh, hey. How’d it go?”
I stand and shake out my legs, looking over my boy for the kinds of bumps and bruises that are hardest to see.
“Master, I’m fine. He wants to see you now.”
“Are you sure you’re all right with that?”
“Of course. Whatever you want.” He grins that grin that makes my insides turn to mush. “After all, you’re the birthday boy, Master.”
“So I am.” I kiss that sweet grin and press the poetry book into his hands. “Here. You’re on for tonight.”
“May I sit inside? It’s cold out here.”
“Yes, of course. I just needed some air.”
I start past him to grab the door, and he shifts to block me. “Master? Are you okay?”
Sweet boy. He gets rattled when I’m off. I can’t hide my moods any better than he can. I give him another kiss, taking his hands in mine. “I’m fine, Dane. This is all very important to me, but it’s all going to be fine.”
Eleazar is waiting just inside, and his gaze drops to where Dane’s hand is entwined with mine. “Hello, Marcus,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Eleazar.”
You can tell everything about a man by that first handshake. The doctor greets me with an open smile and a confident grip. He’s good at what he does, and he knows it—and he doesn’t need to jam it down your throat. He’s not hiding behind a suit and tie, creating distance, but projecting a professional but comfortable demeanor in khakis and a button-down shirt. His Clark Kent glasses are the icing on the I’m-not-perfect cake. I like him.
“Very nice to meet you.”
“Happy birthday,” he adds with a very Dane-like sparkle.
Still holding the doc’s hand, I give Dane an enormous eye roll. “Really?”
He shrugs and smirks.
The doctor chuckles at us. “Dane says you’d like to have a word?”
“Yes, is that all right?”
We both look to Dane, who nods back. “Dane’s filled out a release, so we’re good to go.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Dane?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Thank you.” Kissing him again feels a bit like showboating, so instead, I pull our joined hands to my lips and leave a soft kiss on his knuckles before letting go. He gives me one of those shy smiles I love, though if I had to decide between that and the cocky smirk, I’m not sure which would be my choice.
How do you think Master's birthday is going so far? And what do you think is going to happen when Eleazar and Marcus are alone?
The next chapter might be my favorite of the story. I have a thing for therapists. ;)
The next chapter might be my favorite of the story. I have a thing for therapists. ;)