Don't Look Back - 3. Chapter 3

“First off, you ran...”

Lee’s leather belt whickered crisply. Marshall felt a familiar tightening that began in his stomach and radiated outward before finding a home in his balls and leaking cock. He had a heightened sense of awareness of every move Lee made, despite not being able to see him. He tracked the arc of the belt by sound alone just before it made glorious contact with his bare flesh.

Whap!

Marshall never flinched. The first stroke was never the hardest or the best.

“Second off, you made me chase you...”

Second stroke. Harder this time. It caressed his other ass cheek like a lover’s kiss. A stern, demanding lover.

“Remember your third offense, boy?”

Marshall knew. Of course he did. But he maintained a stoic silence. Lee’s question was actually a ploy, meant to draw him out. See if he was paying attention. Marshall was not about to fall into that trap. If he was going to fall, he was going to do it eyes wide open, knowing the consequences.

Not like this. And not for something as stupid as speaking without permission.

“Good boy.” Lee’s voice a silken purr that sent sparks flying through Marshall’s nervous system, lighting a fire in his soul. One good deed deserved another. Lee was not afraid of giving rewards when they were merited.

Marshall felt Lee nudge his legs open just a little more, felt Lee’s cool breath whistle across his hole, followed by a long, languid swipe of his tongue. Jesus that was good. An involuntary groan lodged in Marshall’s throat. He clamped down on it, as well as the urge to come.

Too soon. Far too soon. More importantly, Lee hadn’t said he could.

Sometimes long afternoons were spent in their bedroom, with Lee tonguing Marshall’s ass, fucking him with it like a damned mini-cock. Lee could even hit his prostate with his tongue, and send Marshall spiraling into ecstasy.

Lee’s lips skimmed the curve of Marshall’s ass before he straightened once again.

“Tell me, boy. What was your third offense?”

Head down, his hair flowing over his face, Marshall dared to grin at the memory.

“I called you old man, Sir.”

“So you think I’m an old man, do you?”

“No, Sir. I don’t think that, Sir.”

The belt came down again, without warning. Heat spread through Marshall’s ass. A delicious burn. Damn, that hurt so good. And damned if he didn’t want more.

“Thank you, Sir,” Marshall fairly moaned. He dared to turn his head slightly to one side, blowing strands of red hair from his mouth.

“Just you remember that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thwack!

Marshall could just imagine how red his ass was now. He felt the sting of his hyper-sensitive flesh as Lee layered stroke upon stroke. Marshall knew this too would pass; the pain would dull as the nerve endings grew enured to the sensuous ache that suffused him, crowded out by other, more pleasurable sensations. The pain was only the beginning, the means to an end. But it wasn’t everything. And there were limits.

Marshall had his safeword. All he had to do was use it and the spanking would cease, right then and there. Or whatever it might be they were engaged in at the time. Whatever Marshall didn’t feel comfortable with.

He’d never had to use his word. Not even once.

Marshall felt Lee release the belt, dropping it onto the grass beside them with a gentle thud. Marshall knew what that meant and he tensed slightly in anticipation.

Lee referred to this part as “doing it manually’. His hand descended on Marshall’s ass with a sharp smack, a resurgence of delicious pain flowing through Marshall. He squirmed slightly in Lee’s lap, knowing his weeping cock was saturating Lee’s jeans with pre-come. He wished Lee would lose them. He wanted to feel Lee’s bare flesh, rub his cheek against Lee’s skin, inhale Lee’s musky, natural scent.

Lee reached beneath him and grasped Marshall’s aching cock. “Goddamn, you’re wet, boy. Don’t come yet. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir,” Marshall dutifully responded. Too bad he hadn’t thought to bring a cock ring. Or even a rope. Something to prevent illicit ejaculation.

Marshall felt Lee’s fingers caress his wetness, coating them with nature’s lube. He had to mask his impatience, or risk losing it all at Lee’s whim.

“One or two?”

“Two, please, Sir.” Marshall swallowed in glorious anticipation as Lee eased two fingers inside of him. Yesssssss....

Marshall felt the familiar burn as Lee’s fingers breached his tightness, pushing inside of him until they were completely encased. Those fingers felt like heaven, stretching Marshall’s channel, preparing it for bigger and better things. One step at a time. Anticipation was the best foreplay.

“Want more, boy?”

“Want you, Sir.” Marshall wriggled his ass, as if seeking to impale himself even more upon Lee’s fingers.

“How do you want me, boy?”

“Inside of me. Your cock. Fuck me hard. Please, Sir.”

Marshall held tight to his obedience. He needed this as much as Lee did, maybe even more. This was the essence of their relationship, the hallmark of their love. Had been for many years.

The fingers disappeared. Marshall tried not to moan his disappointment. The loss would be more than adequately replaced by something better. Patience.

“On your hands and knees,” Lee directed him and Marshall scrambled to obey, dropping onto the harsh grass of the field. He didn’t care if he scraped his palms or his knees. For what he was about to receive, he was truly grateful.

He dared a glance up at Lee. He was removing his jeans, a small tube in one hand. Marshall couldn’t help but admire the view as Lee’s thick cock appeared. Angry and swollen, it was a veritable god. One that Marshall loved to worship every chance he got.

Lee liberally slathered lube onto one palm, coating his cock, his gaze fixed upon Marshall.

“Ready for me, boy?”

“God, yes.” Marshall fairly moaned in anticipation.