Page 11 of Brat on the Ball

“No. Here. Like last time.”

“Come on then,” I said. I took our drinks, left them on the floor to get kicked over, then grabbed his hand and made my way downstairs to the basement, to the same disabled toilet we’d used the last time. I locked the door and pushed him up against it, seemingly just in time as his cock head pushed free out the side of his briefs, already slick with pre-cum. I yanked my own trousers down to free myself, letting my balls rest on my waistband as I rubbed slick pre-cum over the head. He whimpered into my mouth and I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, biting just hard enough for it to give a little sting.

“Remember,” I pulled away for just a second, “No means no. All you have to do is tell me you’re not enjoying it, and we stop. Understood?”

His mouth immediately met my neck, and bit down, then sucked hard.Right, understood.

The feeling of his mouth on me was ecstasy, sending a thrill through my body from that point. I stroked his cock again, letting the foreskin glide over the slick head as he whimpered into my neck. He took his mouth off me and moved as if to slide downward, but I kept an iron grip on his cock that stopped him from moving.

“I know you want to serve, but I decide if or when you do that, understood?”

“Yes,” he said. One hand found my chest and bitten fingernails raked furrows through my chest hair, and I hissed, automatically clenching my hand even tighter around his cock. He moaned in response. So he really did like a little pain.

I moved to kiss his neck, much as he’d kissed me, and deliberately marked him as I continued to stroke his cock. My cock was standing hard to attention, and I kept brushing up against it, but I knew if I did anything with it now that it would be over far too soon. I marked his neck and chest with my mouth over and over, but he never complained. Just whimpered and groaned andyesed as I did it more and more. I drifted my free hand back around to his front and pushed my index finger into his mouth. He started to suck on it, dulling the sounds of his moans, and then I pushed my middle finger in too.

Once they were wet, I trailed them back around and down his spine, pushing into the back of his briefs. With one hand still firmly on his cock, I traced down his crack, feeling fine hairs tickle my finger until I found his tight, puckered hole.

I gently pushed one slicked finger inside, knowing without lube it would hurt a little. Much as I thought it would, his cock jumped in my hand as I pushed insistently. The man’s hand found my chest and raked another four lines down my body. I didn’t care. I liked the pain too. So with him pushed up against the door and trapped by my body, I stroked his cock and pushed my finger in up to the second knuckle and gently manoeuvred it in and out of him. I knew it wouldn’t hit the prostate. But it seemed he was getting off on the pain and my dominance.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, his voice an octave higher than I’d heard it before. “You’re going to make me…”

He didn’t need to say any more. I adjusted my grip so that I could hold my cock above his, and stroked us both, rough and fast, in unison. I pushed my middle finger inside him as he came with a shout and I was spilling too, all over my hand and coating both of our cocks. I loosened my grip and slid my fingers out from him, and took a tiny step back so I wasn’t crowding him so much.

“…fuck,” I finally managed after a second.

“Thank you,” he muttered. He reached for the lock but I stopped him, grabbing him with the hand that wasn’t covered in both of our release.

“No. You’re not running away this time, Cinders.”

“But…” he started.

“No buts. Aftercare is important.” I gestured for him to sit down on the cool floor and he did, his back still against the door. I got some tissues and wiped down his stomach and crotch, cleaned myself off, washed my hands and then sat down next to him. I held out one arm and after a second he settled under it, his head on the left side of my chest. I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart beating the way it was.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“For what?” I asked.

He gestured vaguely with his hand. “…all this, y’know?”

“You know sex is good for both of us, right? No need to thank me. I’m not doing you a favour.”

He hesitated. “Just…you taking control. Does a lot for me. Helps me to feel better about shit, when I’m not expected to be the one in control.”

“Then I’ll thank you too. Helps me to be in control,” I said.

“I…I think I have to go,” he breathed. “I don’t want to run out on you, I promise. I just…life is complicated.”

“You’re not married to a woman, are you?” I asked, joking. Half joking.

“No. Single, I promise.” He extricated himself out from under my arm and stood up.

“You’re not leaving like that,” I said, nodding toward his cum-stained briefs. “This might be a kink club, but you don’t strike me as the kind of lad to walk through a room looking like that.”

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “I…” he seemed to have frozen again, that brief boost of sexual confidence overshadowed by reality.

“Let’s get this sorted,” I said. “Take them off.”

He hesitated, then shimmied his briefs down his legs and over his trainers. I pulled off my shoes and trousers, then gave him my much less wet boxers. He gratefully took them and pulled them on as I got re-dressed, minus the underwear. My boxers had been tight on me, but hung off his thinner frame. A primal part of me loved seeing him in my clothes, so I took off my shirt and hung it over his shoulders to cover up the worst of the love bites. I realised I might have gone a little overboard with the number of pink and purple bruises littering the upper part of his chest and neck.

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