Page 32 of Butterfly

At first, Ollie had been a tad sheepish about his sexual discovery.

Like everything with Teddy, he was blunt, to the point, because he needed to be.

The day after he’d given Ollie the best orgasm of his life, he’d patted the space beside him on his bed, and Ollie had obediently sat waiting for Teddy to show him the dictionary.

Slap.

Ollie blinked in surprise. “You want to slap me?”

Teddy shook his head, then pointed at Ollie.

“Oh, you’re asking if I want to be slapped.”

Yes.

“Maybe lightly, on my…on my…”

Teddy flicked through the dictionary; it took a while, but he found the wordPeach.

Ollie laughed. It broke the tension. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Not hard, not enough to hurt.”

Hold. Down.

Ollie swallowed. “Yeah, I kind of like the idea of you holding me down.”

Choke.

Ollie frowned. “Not like”—he put his hands on his throat—“but I want to be able to do what you did to me. I want you all the way down me. I want to have to hold my breath. That felt amazing. I want to be able to make you feel like that too.”

He’d blushed, ducking his head. He hadn’t even seen Teddy’s hard cock yet, and he was imagining it shoved down his throat.

Teddy hummed, licking his lips.

Praise.

“What do you mean?”

It took Teddy a little longer to pick out all the words.

I say when you are good, I encourage and reward.

“Yes,” Ollie whispered. “I’d really like that. I’ve only ever been told I’m good at something in here, and that’s art, drawing and painting. I’d love to be told I’m good at something else too.”

Teddy ruffled his hair.You are good.

Ollie rolled his eyes.

Top.

“Of what?”

Teddy scrunched his brow.

Top. Me.

“You mean I…” He gestured between them.

Teddy nodded.

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