Page 64 of Spencer's Satisfaction
“Seriously, though, this is a great opportunity for you,” Tony insists, having picked up on the same drop in Chance’s mood. I’m so proud of him for noticing, and even more proud that he’s attempting to cheer the other man up. “You might have insane chemistry with whoever wins you at the auction and then maybe youwon’tbe the only single Daddy in the group anymore…andthenit’s just Josh we have to pair off with someone.”
Okay, so nobody said he’d perfected tact yet.
Chance chuckles, still dismissive, “Whatever you say, bud.” He throws a couple of fries into his mouth and chews before getting to the crux of why he was finally confessing the big secret to begin with. “So, yeah, that’s my contribution to the cause. But the guys are probably gonna hit the two of you up soon, too.”
I frown. “They’re not auctioning Littles, are they?” I pull Tony just a tiny bit closer against me, feeling a spike of caveman-like possessiveness take over me. I’ve been a bit this way ever since the incident at the diner a couple of months ago. I don’t like the idea of letting him out of my sight for long, even though he’s an adult who is more than capable of looking after himself. “And, like you said, we’re both taken, so-”
“No, the idea of auctioning Littles or Subs isbadwith a capital ‘B’,” Chance agrees, shooting me a knowing smirk. I know he’ll give me hell for my behavior later. “But you might want to auction off signed pre-release copies of Tony’s book, maybe? Or maybe a personalized audio recording or something? It’s not scheduled for a few more months yet, so you’ll have time to organize something like that.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of that, and they are both fantastic suggestions which won’t actually cost Tony and I anything to donate. I share a look with my boy and he nods, seemingly on the same page as me.
I look back at Chance. “Yeah, okay, we’ll probably do something like that, then.”
Chance grins. “Great. I’ll let Ash know.”
As conversation shifts to more normal topics -things like work, whether we’re going to Littles’ Night next week, and placing joke bets on whether Zephyr or Matt will finally snap and propose to their respective Daddies- I let my thoughts drift.
The better part of the last year has been like a dream. I wasn’t unhappy before I met Tony, but I can’t imagine being happy without him now. I feel needed and wanted in a variety of different ways, and fulfilled as a Daddy to a sweet Little boy who trusts me enough to continue exploring his desires and needs together.
Speaking of…
“So,” I interrupt whatever Chance was saying, glancing at my watch and then meaningfully at my boy, “we’ve actually got plans this afternoon, so we’re going to have to get going.”
“Plans, huh?” Chance asks me suggestively, arching an eyebrow.
Beside me, I know Tony’s blushing, but I stare my best friend down. “Yep.”
Chance’s amusement is almost palpable, but he waves us away, melodramatically declaring, “Fine. Go. Flaunt your perfect relationship and satisfying sex life. I don’t care.”
I’m still laughing as I drag Tony out of the café by the hand, with plans to do exactly what Chance just accused me of.
* * *
“You can safe word at any time,” I remind Tony later in the afternoon. We had to make a few stops for some supplies, and now I feel a bubbling feeling of anticipation building in my gut.
When he had first cautiously asked if I’d try this with him, I’ll admit I was nervous. It’s not something I’ve ever actually done, and I want to do it right for him. First and foremost we need to be safe, so we’re going to start out tame, but I still worry that he’ll get overwhelmed, or overstimulated, or…something. But he wants so badly to try, and I can’t deny him anything.
(Being a pushover for our Littles is a trait my entire social circle share, apparently.)
Having shooed Frank from the bedroom, the door is shut and the curtains are drawn, leaving the room dimly lit by the slivers of fading afternoon light that are managing to sneak in through the cracks.
“You can, too, Spencer,” Tony replies seriously, no hint of his boyish persona to be seen. I’m glad for that, at least. I love him when he’s little but, for what we have planned, I need him as adult as I am.
“I know.” I lick my lips, a tiny bit nervous. Then I remind myself that he needs me to be dominant right now, and I swallow back those nerves and try to radiate calmness. We share one last chaste kiss at the foot of the bed and then I raise the blindfold between us, showing it to him. “You ready?
He nods eagerly.
After helping him undress, I tie the blindfold over his eyes and then ask him how many fingers I’m holding up (four), to which he answers, “I can’t see a damn thing.”
He gets a gentle swat to his backside for the sass and he grins.
“Okay,” I help him climb onto the bed and settle him in the middle of the mattress, enjoying the way he looks, spread out for me like he is. “I’m going to tie your hands first, then your ankles, okay?”
He nods.
“I need verbal consent, baby.”
“Yes,” he answers, then hesitates.
