Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Subject: HURT ME – Chapter 4 This story is fiction about consensual sex, bondage, and BDSM between college age (18+) boys and adult males. If it is illegal to read such material in your jurisdiction, or if you are under the legal age to do so, please exit this site immediately. And please, if you enjoy these stories, consider supporting the great free resource that Nifty gives us. Go fty/donate.html NOTE TO READERS: Thank you to the many folks who have reached out after the first few chapters. I apologize for taking so long to get this next one finished. Please don’t hesitate to reach out with suggestions. I enjoy talking with others who share my interests. Thank you for those of you have have offered constructive advice; I appreciate your taking the time. On with the story… Chapter 4 I nearly ran back down the path and out the gate when Master himself opened the door. I don’t know why I expected one of the others to open it, but when I saw his kind face, I just kind of melted. I guess emek escort I expected him to be angry at me, to read my mind and know I had chickened out. I wondered if he could smell my nervousness as I brushed past him to follow him through the locker room, upstairs past the study lounge, and then into his office. The house was still. He motioned for me to sit opposite him. “You look like someone who is feeling conflicted,” he began. I nodded in response and stared at the carpet. “You’ve had a lot to process, and I respect that. I want to know what’s going on, and please hear this: I’m not going to demand anything of you. If this is too much, please say so. You’re in control.” I couldn’t look at him. I felt shame as my eyes threatened to tear. What the fuck? I thought to myself. I looked anywhere but at him, and I fixated on a black and white framed print on the wall. It was a close up of two fists bound by rope. I couldn’t look away. I don’t eryaman escort know how long we sat like that; it could have been moments, or perhaps minutes. “Luke,” he quietly interrupted. “I don’t want anything from you, but I am concerned. Are you ok? How can I help you?” For some reason, his simple, gentle kindness pulled open a door of emotion I didn’t even realize I was holding shut. I began in a near whisper, and then gradually I told him everything. I told him about being all alone in my small town, about living in a family that would hate me if they knew about me. I told him about never having sex with another guy even though I wanted it. I told him about getting hard when my father belted me. I told him about wanting to make the cross country team and not get bullied off if they figured out my perverse tastes. And then I surprised myself even more by looking up to him and admitting something that I didn’t even want to admit esat escort to myself: I also want him to teach me, give me both the pleasure and the pain he had shown me. I could almost hear the sound of the dust settling into the carpet at my feet as I waited for him to respond. In that stillness I was breathing shallowly and could feel my heart pounding so fiercely I worried I was having a heart attack. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that.” I looked up at him. He smiled, and I felt the tension slowly ease away. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, and I wouldn’t force you to out yourself to your parents or your team. While I do prefer shaved boys, I can make an exception for you. I think we have something here that you want and need, something you crave, and I can help you understand that and to feel comfortable with it.” He paused. “You should also know that we all like you. I like you,” he emphasized. We talked for a while about my past, my courses, running, and then we started in on what turns me on, and my questions about S then I reciprocated. I realized I was hard again, and I felt Thomas’s hard cock pressing into my stomach. “Looks like you two need another round. One last cum, then we’re done here. Let’s see a 69 this time, boys.” We happily pulled each other down onto the carpet.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32