Posts Tagged ‘my boy rife’
After the workshop. I haven’t had enough of you (will I ever get enough of you) and strip you bare, glove my hand, slide two fingers inside you, sideways on our huge bed. The lamplight is different than the bright white of this room during the day, more warm, orange-yellow-gold and more full of shadows, and the shadows and the gold fall onto your skin like paint. In the car on the way back I couldn’t resist (can rarely resist, it’s so hard to resist when part of our dynamic is built around taking what I want) and slide your small fingers into my mouth. You miss the exit. Your fingers are blunt and I trace your jagged nails with my tongue, suck the salt from the pads, taste the day on your skin. I pull your wrist down to your pelvis and take two fingers in my mouth again when my two fingers are inside you, gently pressing, not a lot of motion, and I start to suck you off. Up and down your fingers like a cock. I hold your g-spot and feel it quiver in my fingers. I let your fingers out of my mouth so you can touch your clit, and keep my tongue on the back of your hand. You shudder and convulse against my mouth, your cunt grips my fingers. You slide your fingers back in my mouth, eager, and I taste you, just a little, at the tips, and I do it all over again.
On the side of the bed, but you’re not supposed to be coming that day, and you do. It sneaks up on you in a moan, but before you can really come you stop yourself, blurting out, “fuck!” again, and it’s the second time you’ve come without permission, and you’re in trouble. You back off and look at me shyly; I am laughing at your distress, you just feel so bad for defying the rules, and the guilt is more than enough punishment. I can feel how bad you want to please me. I am enjoying this too, too much: your attempts to do things just right and your scrambles to fix it when you are so happy, so pleased to be serving me, servicing me, kneeling before me, my cock in your throat. It’s enough for you to see that look on my face, that ecstasy you’re causing, that overwhelming lust and adoration as your tongue hits the head so soft and slow as you suck it down, which makes me want to pulse and shoot, makes me feel my balls (as if I had them) contract and swell, cocked and loaded. You move back toward my dick with your lips parted and I push you away. “No—I think you’re done sucking my cock. You lost that privilege when you came without asking. Down. Kiss my boots.”
Long slow aftercare. I let the beating settle into your body—the belt, my hands, the restraints on your ankles and wrists. After some time on the bed I move us to the chair so you can sit on my lap. You wrap around me, sink down. You quiet and calm and I ask, “Ready to suck my cock again?” You say yes, quickly, in a whisper, and kneel between my knees. I loosen the harness and touch my clit under it while you suck me down. (You’re not supposed to come today, still; one of us may as well.) “Good boy,” I breathe as I watch your mouth, tongue, lips, my cock down your throat. I let you guide it. I let you slide it however deep you want. I push a little, because that’s what I do, but mostly I just concentrate on the feeling and the sight. I almost come but it’s too much, I get overstimulated and don’t have the right angle so I get up and take my jeans off, my socks and shoes and briefs, and spread my legs wider, get a better grip under the harness. You start in again and I imagine what your mouth would feel like. I know every inch of it, know every ridge of the roof and every tastebud on your tongue and every valley of your teeth with my fingers and my tongue, but fuck how I wish I could feel those with my cock. We are making do with what we have and you are an expert at sucking me down, swallowing, and I think about how I’d get tight and build up pressure, ready to shoot. You moan around my cock and I feel it in my pelvis and I feel you squirt on my ankle and foot, you’re straddling my leg. “Ohh fuck you’re in trouble,” I manage. You whimper a little, give me those eyes, those sweet little boy eyes like you would do anything for your daddy, you’re sorry, you didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, and it doesn’t take long before I’m over the edge for you, coming in your mouth, yelling out and curling my spine and feeling how I’d shove and come to the back of your throat. I breathe, my body stills. You sink down onto your belly and put your tongue to my foot, clean it off, suck my instep. With your head still down low, you say, “Am I still in trouble?” and I laugh.
You walk over to me with your cock on, hard and thick and fitting you, jutting out from your hips. “Can you stand?” I ask. You nod. I sit on the edge of the bed. You let me feel it, with my hands and along my lips, my jaw, getting to know its new contours. I put my tongue on it, kiss it, and you shudder. I like feeling how hard you are in my mouth. I can’t take it as deep as I think I can, but I try, again and again, wanting you so far inside.
You start on your knees at the end of the bed after I have kicked you, hit you with my belt, after I told you to pick a number and you picked three, after you took more than you thought you could, after you crawled for me, after my hands in you at the edge when I said come on and shoot that load for your daddy, little faggot and I shove in, impatient and hard, to the back of your throat. You gag. I keep going. I hold you by the hair and work my hips so it goes in and out of your mouth. You gag again. I keep going. I stand over you and you rise up a little higher and I keep fucking your mouth. I wrap my hand around your throat. I pinch your nose closed and shove in. You look up at me, pleading, in a rare moment of eye contact. I don’t let up until I count to ten. I take my dick out and let you breathe and do it again. Count to ten. Sometimes I hold my breath with you, but I always let mine go before you do. I fist your hair and shove in deep. My hips shake against your mouth. Come on, little boy, take it, that’s right, that’s how I like it, fuck, yeah, give me that pretty little mouth, take it deeper, you can do better than that, fucker, do it, suck it down, yeah that’s right, nice. You stumble back a little and my fist holds you up.
To Love You
An adventure for which I
have been preparing, long before
we met. A practice in honesty
with myself and others. A crow
bar opening my ribcage wider
than I thought it’d go. A pill I swallow
to make all the colors brighter.
A zipline I can’t let go of for fear
of plummeting back to where
I’ve already been. A breakfast
in bed, lazy, perfect on a weekend.
A heartbeat to which I can count out
a 4/4 rhythm and always
carry a bass line. A harmony.
A tune I can almost make out of
a song I know so well but can’t
quite remember. A return to
myself. An exercise in becoming
supernova without exploding.
A crazy idea that just might work.
An adoration. A prayer with my whole
body, starting at my lips. A midnight
candlelight canopy garden of treasure.
A menagerie custom made for me.
A secret I hesitate to share because
I want to cherish it enough for the
whole world. A promise, but I’m not
yet sure for what. An anchor in my
marrow. A pen full of ink and not
enough paper. The slick oil of finger-
prints on glass. A smooth river stone
large enough to balance on one
foot. Lit birthday candles that won’t
blow out. A hike into the shady forest
with a picnic and a fairy tale. Your skin
shined with sweat. A relief. A tribute.
An ache that fills me more than any
ache should. A symphony of leaves.
A choir of hiding places. A quilt from
old tee shirts. Look, that’s from my
first concert. You saw that same tour,
but we didn’t know yet
what that meant, either.
Disclaimer: This story includes some Daddy/boy lines and dirty cocksucking. Read it through at your own pleasure.
The first day I get back from the business trip, I call you into my office every hour on the hour for something. Water with ice and lemon. Print these documents and collate. But the requests get more interesting as the day goes by.
“Kneel for ten minutes in the corner.” I point without looking up after you enter the room. I don’t have to explain the parameters of kneeling, as you know the position (butt off your ankles, hands behind your back) and what you’re supposed to do (meditating on the concepts of submission and being owned). You’ve done this before, frequently. I don’t ask you to hold a piece of paper to the wall with your nose (this time).
You leave, and I call you back fifty minutes later. “Under the desk,” I tell you, my jeans already unzipped.
“That’s right. That’s good, baby.” And you choke me down and sputter thank you with big watery helpless eyes. I groan and push your head back down.
“Uh huh. I know you like it. You beg for it an thank me after, little one. But this isn’t for you. Just for me. Daddy needs this. Do it right. That’s good. Fuck. Good boy.” You start swelling up and moaning with each cool sucking breath. I know you want it. I know this is what you’re for, and so do you. I shove it in, feeling myself tighten, that delicious pressure building from deep.
“No boy, not for you. Don’t come, son. You better not. Little slave boy. I need you hard. Don’t fucking do it. Just suck it. I’m almost there. I need you to take a little more for me. Just … a little …” I groan and we feel the tremors move through us both. It would be easy for you to come when I do, but you hold yourself tight and let it pass over and around you.
When I’m done, you’ve swallowed every drop.
Your lips are swollen, throat still contracting and a little raw. You’re hard, but your boxers are dry. Good boy. I grab your package roughly as my breathing evens out. “Good boy. I like you like this. On edge all day. Hard for Daddy. Maybe I’ll let you, later.” I zip up my fly and kiss you, fisting your hair before turning back to my desk. “God, you’re good. Go get me a glass of water.”
And you do. Quickly, quietly, beaming all the way.
Featured image courtesy of Indie Porn Revolution
I’ve got way too many photos from this last week, and not enough time online to upload them and show them off to you. So I’m letting the “likes” be my guide this time, and any with more than 6 likes on Instagram are included.
Here’s some of the most favorite shots from my last week in Juneau. Follow me on Instagram for many more, and will post the rest of last week’s road trip soon.
After weeks of near-perfect weather, it poured for two days. It is a temperate rain forest, after all. AND: Instagram now does video! I never quite got into Vine, but I am pretty excited about Instagram’s video capabilities.
Salmonberries | Fresh rhubarb from my mom’s garden
the dog. in a box.
Douglas mountain … I think this one is Thunder? | Last Frontier Reindeer Sausages | Sunset on the walk home
Freshest fish at Twisted Fish restaurant
Little golden waterfall in the forest near the Brotherhood Trail. Love the rainforest sounds.
Forest near the glacier, Brotherhood Trail | Twisted fallen-down tree
Montage of color & texture from the Brotherhood Trail walk
The folks who march for peace and the Pride folks joined forces and marched with equality banners and origami paper cranes
The Fourth is the biggest holiday in Juneau, with the entire town coming out to watch the fireworks at midnight on the 3rd of July (because it doesn’t get dark enough until after midnight) and the parade on the 4th.
Rife had a sandcastle planned for the Sandy Beach sandcastle 4th of July contest before we even arrived in Juneau—lucky for him, we saw about four different porcupines before the 4th, so he was eagerly ready to design this one. The sad part was that the contest was cancelled, but we went down to the beach to build it anyway and there were a dozen or so others there, too. | If I’d been judging, this one would have been first place.
Treadwell Mine ruins
Detail of skunk cabbage
On the ferry, as it pulled out of Juneau at 7am, on the way to Skagway to begin the drive through British Columbia again.
There’s much more from the next few days, but I’ll save that for a part two of this post, since my internet connection is slow and precarious and I have plenty more.
Gold Rush Days! The loggers and miners competition
Kids playing in the dirt pile | Log rolling competition
It’s been gorgeous here. For weeks.
There isn’t a pride parade, but we did attend the Southeast Alaska Gay & Lesbian Association (SEAGLA) pride picnic!
Treadwell mine ruins in Douglas
Sandy beach, near the mine ruins
Rife’s hands are small, but the leaves here are sometimes gargantuan. They seem prehistoric. This is a cow parsnip leaf, they are wild and overgrown everywhere (and cause rashes when exposed to the sap inside the stalks). | Happy 62nd birthday to my mom!
Supermoon. I couldn’t capture it with my iphone camera, but it was a stunning sight down the channel from the bridge, just over the Taku mountains, so bright and yellow and looking even more huge because of the moon illusion
Old growth forest on the walk to Outer Point | Younger forest from the beach
Outer point on Douglas, the northern most tip of the island
The boy | & the dog are loving it here
Alaskan brewing company beer cap with the beach rocks
There was a thunderstorm after we came back in from Outer Point—this is the storm moving in, it’s only about 6pm so the sun won’t set for four or five more hours, but the dark clouds overhead made the sun far away look so dramatic. Thunderstorms are very rare here! All this gorgeous weather, and that kind of sky … global warming is real, man.
And then, OH YEAH, Prop 8 was thrown out of the SCOTUS, and the 3rd part of DOMA was repealed! Nbd … !! We went out to one of the bars to meet a high school friend of mine to borrow her xtra tufs where she was celebrating the DOMA news with a handfull of friends. Kimberly + Marguerite made the “equalipussy” (shown here) and hung it, we did shots and talked about marriage and laws and other gay things. | Here’s the xtra tufs I borrowed (thanks V!) to go on a 3.4-mile hike into a cabin on Point Bridget, which is pretty much the northern most point that Juneau’s road extends.
I took SO many photos on the Blue Mussel cabin camping trip, most of which are still unprocessed on my iphone, that I think I’m going to do a round 2 of This Week In Photos … it’s been a beautiful, outdoorsy, adventurous week.
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