Page 45 of Mr. Naughty List
“Take my boots off. Then my pants. I think you earned a taste of my come.”
Aaron shivered and nodded, the shame that had been trying to overtake the white noise losing its fight as renewed lust took up the available space in Aaron’s brain.
As he worked the laces free and tugged the big combat boots from RJ’s feet, he leaned into RJ’s hand working through his hair over and over, soothing and commanding.
“That’s it, Elf. Now, c’mere and open up.”
RJ meant itwhen he said he’d never thought he’d get this chance and he wasn’t going to waste it. He might have already shot one load down Aaron’s greedy throat, but he was far from finished with his naughty elf. Not for the night. Hopefully, not for the weekend either.
RJ removed Aaron’s tights and moved him to kneel on the sofa with his hands on the back of it. He dragged Aaron’s vest off and tossed it to the ground with the Santa hat. RJ chose to keep his T-shirt and jeans on for now.
The red stripes on Aaron’s ass were intoxicating, and he couldn’t keep his hands off them. Aaron squirmed and moaned with every pass and squeeze, but he pushed back for more and bowed his head to his forearms on the back of the sofa, surrendering his body.
“What do you think comes next?” RJ said, trailing a finger up and down Aaron’s crack, dragging through soft, fine hair to the hairless whorl of knotted muscle.
“Whatever you want,” Aaron said, his breath hitching.
“That’s right. Good answer, naughty elf.” He lightly massaged Aaron’s hole until it flexed and tightened, and then he spread his cheeks wide and bent down.
“Oh!” Aaron cried as RJ’s tongue found its target. His head lifted and dropped again, another sobbing sound on his lips as RJ intensified his tongue’s teasing strokes and pressed against the sensitive flesh.
Aaron’s thighs trembled and shook, his weight shifting from knee to knee, his asshole flexing and releasing wildly. “Oh, fuck, RJ,” he groaned. “It’s been…shit. It’s been a long time.”
Hookups didn’t always extend beyond a blowjob or a hurried fuck, RJ knew all too well. The pleasure of a good, long rimming was in short supply in most single, gay men’s lives. He set about giving Aaron all the rimming his body could take.
It wasn’t long before Aaron was arching back, reaching behind him to tug at RJ’s short hair, barely able to grip it, and alternately tucking his ass like he was trying to get away before shoving it back for more.
The noises he let out stopped being groans or even whimpers and became full on hiccupping pleasure-sobs, high-pitched and desperate, lost and a little scared. RJ didn’t stop. He pressed his fingers to Aaron’s taint, rubbing and amping up the sensation. RJ grinned when Aaron suddenly froze in place, his asshole convulsing and a torn cry on his lips.
More come spattered the Santa cape. Aaron slid to the side and collapsed in a heap on the sofa, legs twitching, eyes rolled up, and hips jerking. RJ covered him with his body, rubbing his cock against Aaron’s trembling stomach and pubic hair, finally clambering up enough to get his cock to Aaron’s mouth so that when his red lips opened weakly, letting RJ push inside, RJ threw back his head and came for the second time that night.
And it didn’t end there.
RJ hadn’t gone by the Adult Superstore to buy anal beads for nothing.
Aaron lay draped over his lap again, red ass up and legs spread a bit, shocked little breaths coming and going as they started the Christmas mouse movie over. RJ took his time, starting with the small bead and working his way up with patience and lube until Aaron was sweating and shoving back to try for the last one—a bead nearly as big as a small fist.
“That’s good,” RJ said, holding Aaron’s torso tight with one arm and working the fat bead in as Aaron strained. “Such a beautiful man. I can’t believe how lucky I am to get to see you like this. Thank you, Mr. Danvers—Aaron. Thank you, baby.”
He wasn’t sure Aaron heard him, straining and full as he was, but he spoke the words anyway, sincere and from the depth of his soul. This was more than he’d ever deserved from a man, but damn if he wasn’t going to take it. And he’d give as good as he got. He’d give Mr. Danvers anything.
“Oh!” Mr. Danvers—Aaron—cried, shock popping his eyes open wide just as his asshole finally surrendered and the final bead pushed in. “Ah!” he cried, shifting wildly, his hole swallowing the bead fast like it’d never been there, leaving just the sturdy cord dangling out of him to pull them free again.
“Oh, Mr. Danvers, look at that,” RJ said, cooing with praise. “That’s my man. That’s my beautiful elf.”
Aaron collapsed again, the movie soundtrack singing a cheesy song about Christmastime, and he swiveled his hips against RJ’s thighs. His body shook all over, and he convulsed in short pulses. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling up. “It’s so much. Oh, fuck.” He convulsed again, his hips hitching.
RJ soothed his haunches, but the pleasure kept wracking Aaron, taking him farther and farther away on a journey of shaking bliss. He moaned and groaned, his body and cock flexing and releasing, jets of pre-come pulsing as he gripped RJ’s thighs, struggled up to his knees, and straddled RJ’s legs, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.
“Please,” he whispered. “Spank me again. The table. Please.”
RJ didn’t have to be asked twice. He scooped Aaron into his arms, finding him a bit heavier than expected due to his sturdy muscles, but still easy enough to carry the few steps to the small table by the kitchen area. He laid Aaron out over it, hands gripping the opposite edge, and his cock just barely free of the hard surface, pointing down to the floor.
“That ass,” RJ said softly, rubbing it again as Aaron twitched. “Mmm. Ruler or hand?” Aaron didn’t answer, and RJ leaned closer, “Ruler or hand, baby?”
“Ruler.”
“Hand it is,” RJ said, examining the dark stripes he’d already left and deciding it would be too much for one night. Aaron was in no place to decide for himself.