s*x in C Major

Chapter 8-1

Chapter 8

It wasn’t enough.

Stefan couldn’t get the feel of that thick c**k in his mouth out of his mind. The way it had forced his jaw open, the way it had pressed into his throat, the way he’d struggled to breathe around it…

The way he’d been naked on his knees, his head held in Daz’s hands, and yet he’d been as pinned as if he’d been held face-down on the bed in the spare room and f****d dry with it.

It had immobilised him.

And it had felt so—so difficult and so challenging and so amazing.

And it wasn’t enough.

It hadn’t hurt enough. It hadn’t left marks. He could feel the phantom memory left behind, but there was nothing to poke at and probe. It didn’t hurt to move his jaw or chew the way it would hurt to sit or twist if Daz had bent him over the toilet and f****d him with nothing but the hand soap for lube and no preparation.

And Stefan wanted it to hurt.

He wanted to feel it for days, not minutes. It wasn’t enough.

So it was barely seven in the evening when he called, and the first words out of his mouth were: “f**k me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please, Sir. I want you to f**k me. Properly.”

“f*****g your face not enough for you?”

“I want it to hurt,” Stefan begged. He could hear the shameless whine in his voice, and yet with the memory of Daz’s c*m leaking over his lips and staining his tongue with that bitter taste, he didn’t care. “I want to feel it for days, I want you to punish me, really punish me, please.”

There was a short pause.

Then…

“Tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock sharp at the house.”

And Daz hung up.