Page 7 of Kylan

I kissed the side of his head. “I wish you could seehow beautiful you are right now,” I whispered. He made my heart swell with affection, and pleasure pooled in my belly. Leon and I had often spoken of the constant attraction toward him, the constant sexual desire, the need to act out every impulse, every whim.

“I’d ask you to sit on my lap,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes off him. “But I fear you won’t get much homework done.”

He looked up from his book, mischief tugging at his smile, then stood up with his book in hand and walked over to me. His robe fell open all the way, his panties barely concealed anything; his long, lean thighs and small waist took my breath away.

Then he sat on my lap, making no attempt to conceal himself with his robe, and opened his book.

“Can you help me read, daddy?” he asked shyly while pressing against my crotch.

Little minx.

“Of course, princess,” I said. I took a look at the chapter heading he was starting from and read it out loud. “Statutory interpretation: Principles and Context, Chapter Eight.”

THREE

KYLAN

When I’d first agreedto the contract terms and conditions with Leon and Marek, I assumed it would be for sex and role playing only.

And for the first few sessions, it was.

And it was fucking amazing.

But with the introduction of the NDA and legal jargon, I’d asked questions. And, apparently, I’d asked the right questions because Leon and Marek were impressed. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, they were incorporating quiet reading time into my time with them.

It didn’t cut into our sex and role playing. It just got factored in. We’d usually have round one as soon as I arrived, then take a break to shower, eat, and sit around their study or lounge room with a book before round two began.

They were both property lawyers and incredibly smart, so they loved being able to sit on their chesterfield sofas, reading legal and finance journals like real daddieswhile their princess lay on the floor in his robe, on his tummy with his legs kicking.

It was fun at first, all part of the role playing. Until I started actually reading and understanding their textbooks. They encouraged me to read their old law textbooks, and I’d annotate and diarise, make notes and write essays.

I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the reading part of my time with themmorethan the sex, because that’d be a lie. But I really did enjoy it. I looked forward to it, even.

The fact they were impressed with my work made me so freaking happy. The rush of pride and fulfilment was almost the same high as when they praised me for being a good boy while they took turns fucking me.

Almost.

That high would never be beaten.

My god, I loved it.

I loved wearing silk and satin. I loved how it felt on my skin. I loved wearing small heeled slippers with an open robe. I felt like a Playboy bunny. Sexy, desirable, wanted.

Plus, it drove Leon and Marek crazy, to the point of distraction. To the point of insanity. Until they couldn’t stand it anymore and would bend me over the nearest piece of furniture. Or on the floor, or on the stairs, or in their car.

Wherever the need arose.

I couldn’t get enough of them either.

It was a mutual need.

And I appreciated them each equally. I didn’t favourone over the other. They were both on par, both different in their own ways, and I needed them both.

I could watch Benji with Nolan for the sweetness and Fitch with Dominic for the sensual heat, but with Leon and Marek, I got both.

I wished I could tell Benji and Fitch about them. About what we did, the glorious fucking and the reading.

But I would never jeopardise the NDA. I would never give them reason to end it.

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