Sep. 28, 2013, Foxy’s Restaurant, Glendale, CA.
Taylor
I was a liar. I was such a fucking liar, and if I wasn’t so good at it, I probably would have stopped years ago. There were only two people I knew who could easily see through my lies. The first was Zac, who I was certain knew that I wasn’t doing any “networking” this evening after the festival. The second was the guy sitting across from me, sipping his beer so casually that I still wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a date or not.
“Yeah, once you get away from the tourist crap, it’s gorgeous,” Scott said, his eyes lighting up, for perhaps the first time in the few days I’d known him, as he raved about the years he’d spent living in Thailand. “Totally different world out there, man. You can really get an idea what the place was like thousands of years ago, before we came and fucked it all up.”
I nodded and smiled softly, more at Scott’s animation than at the actual contents of his monologue. “I’d love to go back there sometime, take some photos. I’m not that great, but it’s kinda fun.”
“Hey, at least you’ve got hobbies. Music’s pretty much all I have. Well, that and borderline alcoholism.” At that, he lifted his glass and took a long sip.
“Music’s a good thing to have, though…” I said, my smile turning a little bittersweet. I’d come close to losing my music years ago, and I knew enough to realize that Scott had been even closer, and maybe even had lost his for a while.
“Yeah,” Scott agreed, nodding. His own smile took on a sad tinge. “Saved my life, anyway, for what that’s worth.”
I felt myself pouting at his casual self deprecation. “Well, I’m glad it did. For whatever my opinion’s worth.”
Scott eyed me for a moment, trying to gauge, I suppose, how sincere I was. When he spoke again, there was a sincerity to both his smile and his tone of voice that was new. “Worth enough to me.”
I returned his smile, feeling my face heating up with one of my ever present blushes. My “rosy cheeks” were one of those things the fans constantly waxed poetic about, and one of the things I disliked most about myself.
“Never met a guy who blushes half as much as you,” Scott said, chuckling softly.
I scrunched up my nose in disgust. “It’s a… bad habit, I guess.”
Leaning forward to pat my arm in an act of comfort that was marred a bit by the fact that he was still laughing, Scott replied, “Don’t sweat it… it’s kinda cute.”
That didn’t make me blush any less; if anything, it worsened the condition. I pulled another face at Scott, this one no doubt even less attractive than the first, and it just made him smirk.
“Yeah, you’d definitely be the chick in the relationship.”
Choosing to ignore the fact that he just implied a potential relationship between us, because thinking about that would probably cause my head to explode, I gave him an exaggerated scowl. After a moment, I sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart.” He winked.
In response to that, I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes. “You keep calling me that.”
“Yeah, so?” He laughed. “And don’t stick that thing out ‘less you plan to use it.”
“I wasn’t complaining… much. Just seems a bit soon for pet names.” I gave him a tiny smirk, but otherwise ignored the second half of his statement.
Scott ignored my comment as well, choosing instead to shrug and down the rest of his beer in one long chug that left me staring shamelessly at the muscles in his neck. He slammed the empty bottle on the table hard enough to make me jump a little, then waved two long fingers in the air to attract the waiter’s attention.
While Scott signed the check, I finished the last of my beer. Sitting the empty bottle back on the table, I asked, “So… where to now? Another party?”
As he tucked a few extra dollars under the napkin holder as a tip, Scott gave me a slow smirk. “You could call it that…”
I raised an eyebrow nervously. “And I have a feeling that’s all you’re going to tell me.”
“Well, this party’s pretty…” He leaned in closer and winked, “exclusive.”
Somewhat in spite of myself, I shivered. “Oh, is that so?”
He nodded. “Pretty short guest list…”
“Sounds… fun.” I grinned slightly, not wanting to look too nervous or too eager for what I was now certain Scott had planned for us.
“Pretty sure it will be,” Scott replied, nudging his foot against mine under the table.
Fighting the urge to express my surprise that he could reach, I simply grinned and asked, “So what are we waiting on, then?”
I walked out of the restaurant a few steps behind Scott, both to avoid looking too eager about what was to come and so that we didn’t look like a couple. The latter wasn’t a huge concern, because we looked so mismatched that I doubted anyone would look at us and think boyfriends. The former… well, I just really didn’t want to give Scott the ego boost.
We didn’t talk much during the short drive to his condo. That was fine by me, because I really wasn’t sure what to say right then. Before too long, Scott had parked in front of a small, modern looking building with lots of weird angles. He walked up the drive quickly, and I followed closely behind, not worried about how we looked then.
“Not as fancy as you’re probably used to, but it’s home sweet home,” Scott mumbled as he unlocked the door. With a soft laugh, he stepped inside and held the door open for me. “Least the plumbing works.”
I followed him inside and took a look around. Although the outside screamed modern, the inside was much more nondescript, with white walls and beige carpet. It wasn’t dirty, but it was messy in the way that only bachelor pads can be; notebooks, guitars and a few stray plates and glasses made the living room look lived in.
Realizing Scott wanted some sort of reply, I gave him a slight smile and said, “It’s fine. I’m not some spoiled rich boy, you know.”
Scott didn’t dignify that with a response, and I had to wonder how self-conscious he actually was about the difference between my life and his. I decided it probably wasn’t a topic of conversation worth pursuing. I just followed behind him as he headed into the kitchen. It wasn’t a chef’s dream, but it was neater and cleaner than the living room.
He pulled a bottle of Jack from the pantry he’d apparently turned into a liquor cabinet, then snatched two shot glasses from the dish drainer. A sly look on his face, he asked, “Little something to get the party started?”
“Sure…” I replied. Being a little tipsy for this didn’t seem like a bad idea, all things considered.
I watched Scott closely as he poured the shots. He stepped in close to me, close enough to feel his body heat and close enough for the hungry look in his eyes to make me blush, and pressed the shot glass into my hand. I tossed the shot back quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, and smiled sheepishly as I handed the empty glass back to him.
Scott took the empty glass from me, our fingers brushing in a way that felt very deliberate, and sat it to the side. He tossed back his own shot just as quickly, his glass clinking against mine as it joined it on the counter.
“Tasty,” he remarked.
“Mhm,” I agreed. Between the alcohol and Scott’s closeness, my entire body felt like it was on fire.
Yet that was just a tiny spark compared to what I felt when Scott wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me down into a kiss. The suddenness of it made me whimper and my knees buckle; the latter, at least, had the side effect of bringing me a bit closer to Scott’s height. I simply wrapped my arms around his waist, more to keep myself upright than anything else, and kissed him back with as much force as I could muster, which was still no match for Scott’s.
He backed me up against the wall, grinding against me. I barely even registered that the loud moan I heard had come from my own mouth. My hips, too, bucked practically of their own accord, attempting to match each of Scott’s thrusts. His hand slithered between us, easily finding my erection and giving it a hard squeeze. He pulled back from the kiss to stare at me, his hand wrapping around me through my jeans and stroking. My head rolled back against the wall, my mouth falling open but no sound coming out. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I was putting on a bit of a show for him, but it was all genuine.
In any case, Scott’s lust seemed to match mine. He leaned in again and nipped at my lip while his hands found their way up to my shirt, tearing at the thin material of it so much that I feared the shirt wouldn’t last much longer. I let out a whimper that was meant to be a plea that he relax and tried to undo the buttons myself. My fingers trembled, and Scott grew impatient. He backed up a bit and yanked my shirt open, buttons clinking uselessly against the floor.
I wanted to be angry with him for ruining a very expensive shirt, but when I saw the way his eyes roamed up and down my chest, the words died on my tongue. As he licked his lips, I could do little more than smile back at him, biting down softly on my bottom lip in anticipation of what Scott might do next.
Without a word, he began to walk backward out of the kitchen, peeling his leather jacket and t-shirt off as he went. I didn’t have to guess where he was going; he paused at the stairs, waiting for me to follow him, and I scurried after him.
Scott took the steps two at a time, and I was still a little unsteady on my feet, so by the time I reached the bedroom, he was waiting at the foot of the bed. I closed most of the distance between us, and Scott closed the rest by gripping my hair and pulling me in for another rough kiss. While his tongue probed my mouth, his fingernails raked up and down my back. With a strength I still didn’t quite anticipate, he tossed me onto the bed, a dark smile on his lips.
“Damn,” I gasped out, staring up at him.
His grin widened. “Oh, we’re just getting started, sweetheart. Why don’t you get that pretty mouth over here?”
As if the words weren’t a strong enough clue, the fact that he was slowly unbuttoning his jeans as he said them told me exactly what he expected me to do with my mouth. Having learned my lesson about keeping him waiting, I crawled quickly across the bed, coming to a stop less than a foot from his body.
Scott unzipped his jeans, then let his hand fall into my hair, not pulling but still a very definite, firm presence. “Think you know what to do from here..”
I nodded, because I most definitely did know what to do, and if I was honest, it was one thing I thought I was pretty damn good at. So good, in fact, that I couldn’t resist the urge to be a little bit of a tease. I leaned in close and wrapped a hand around the base of Scott’s dick. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and then I ran it along Scott’s length. I was rewarded for that with a groan, and a quick glance up revealed that his head had rolled back in what I could only assume what pleasure. Spurred on by that, I slowly took him into my mouth, inch by inch.
Scott chuckled, a sound that left me confused and nervous. A quick glance up revealed a very serious look on his face. He thrust his hips forward, forcing his dick all the way into my mouth, and I knew then that the time for teasing was past. I relaxed my jaw, only whimpering a little when Scott tightened his grip on my hair and began to pull my head back and forth, setting his own pace.
As much as I had wanted to show him my skills, I had to admit that this was enjoyable, too. I let out a moan that I was sure vibrated all the way through his body and stared up at him as he continued to fuck my mouth.
“Yeah, you like that, huh?” Scott asked. “Fucking sub, you know who’s in charge.”
I let out a whimper, but managed to nod in acknowledgement of and agreement with what he said. My hands clawed at the sheets below me just to try to anchor myself in some way.
Scott pulled my head back and smirked. “And just who is that again?”
“You,” I breathed out, my chest heaving as I stared up at him.
“You like being my sub?”
I nodded eagerly, too caught up in the moment to be sure if this was just dirty talk and roleplaying or something more meaningful than that. Either way, I wasn’t sure if my answer would have changed.
Scott blinked slowly, seeming a little surprised at my response. After a brief pause, he said, “Alright, then. Show me what you’ve got, and if you’re good, I just might give you a treat.”
I gave him another little nod of acknowledgement and understanding, my lips curling into a smile. If he thought I wasn’t up to that challenge, he was sorely mistaken. I sucked his entire length into my mouth easily. I set a fast pace, similar to the one he’d set for me, and applied just enough suction to almost hurt–but not quite, since we’d established I was the masochist here, not him.
Scott finally seemed to relax, his head back and his eyes closed, although he was clearly still in control. His voice low and husky, he said, “Yeah… you’re pretty good at this, sweetheart.”
My lips curled into as much of a smile as I could manage, considering the fact that Scott’s dick was still down my throat.
He gave me a little smirk, and before I could even guess what his next move might be, he had pulled me off of him and shoved me onto my back. It was sudden enough to nearly knock the breath out of me, leaving me gasping for air but smiling in anticipation of Scott’s next move.
Scott stepped out of his jeans, then motioned to mine. “Off. Now.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Still breathing heavily, I fumbled with the button and zipper, then wiggled out of jeans and boxer briefs all at once. I had worn underwear in the hopes of not seeming too eager for sex, but as I tried to get the tight briefs down my legs, I really regretted that choice. Scott’s patience was tested again, and he lunged forward when I finally managed to lower the pants and underwear to my ankles. He pulled them the rest of the way off, then crawled on top of me.
I watched him closely, not even trying to guess what he would do next. He had proven that there was no way to anticipate his moves. Once he had crawled all the way up my body, he leaned down and crushed his lips to mine, his hand snaking between us to wrap around my dick, finally without anything in between our flesh. It felt better than I could have imagined, and I shamelessly bucked my hips upward, trying to get closer to him somehow.
For that, I was rewarded with a hand in my hair, yanking my head to the side and baring my throat to him. Scott’s teeth pierced my neck hard enough that I wasn’t sure he hadn’t drawn blood, but I was sure that I didn’t mind either way.
“Fuck…” I moaned out, not capable of being any more eloquent than that.
“Getting there.” Scott chuckled, pulling away from me and sitting back on his knees. “Hands and knees.”
I tried to hide my disappointment at that; apparently I really was the chick, because I was immediately displeased that I wouldn’t be able to look at him while we fucked. Nevertheless, I knew better than to disobey one of Scott’s orders. I turned around as gracefully as I could manage, jumping a little when I recognized the sound of a bottle of lube being uncapped. My arms shaking a little as they supported me, I twisted my head around to watch Scott. Sure enough, there was a small bottle of Astroglide in his hand.
“How long’s it been?” He asked softly, his eyes trained on mine in a way that made me blush.
“Umm… a couple years,” I answered honestly.
“Good,” he replied, smirking.
It wasn’t the gentle encouragement I was hoping in spite of hope for. Neither was the hand he ran softly over my ass. His other hand wielded the bottle of lube, squeezing a fairly generous amount between my cheeks. He massaged it in, but didn’t even come close to penetration. Just teasing. I had earned that, I supposed. I moaned softly, my arms trembling harder and threatening not to hold me up if Scott didn’t get this show on the road.
As if he’d read my mind, Scott pressed the tip of one finger against me. There was just enough pressure behind the motion to remind me of his strength and his dominance, but it was still teasing, even hesitant. Maybe he was trying to gently prepare me. My body took exception to that, my hips rolling back against his hand as if to beg for more.
“Hold still,” he said, giving my ass a warning smack. His voice a little softer, he added, “Trust me.”
And in spite of all the reasons I had not to, I did.
I nodded and turned back to face the headboard. “Okay.”
I felt him toss the bottle of lube aside. The hand that had held it came to rest on my lower back, as it to steady me. With his other hand, he applied more pressure until my body stopped resisting and allowed one finger to slip inside.
I let out a slight hiss of pain, followed closely by a moan. The two sounds seemed in conflict with each other, but there was no denying that I enjoyed any number of things that caused me pain.
“Shh, you’re okay,” Scott said softly and soothingly. “Trust me; I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
He held completely still for a moment, giving me time to adjust to the intrusion before slowly beginning to thrust his finger in and out, never quite drawing it all the way out. My entire body trembled as it remembered all at once just how good this felt and how good what was yet to come would feel.
After a few minutes, or maybe as little as a few seconds–I was already too far gone to tell–Scott eased a second finger into me. He rubbed my lower back as he slid it in, meeting a bit of resistance once again. In that same low, soothing tone, he said, “You got this, sweetheart.”
“F-fuck…” I moaned loudly.
“I said you got this,” Scott replied firmly, the soothing tone completely absent. “Now quit your whining and take it.”
“Okay,” I replied in a bit of a whimper, not bothering to point out that I really hadn’t been complaining about the pain.
He gave me another short moment to adjust, then began to thrust his fingers again. I exhaled slowly as my body adjusted to the rhythm of it.
“Damn, you’re tight,” Scott remarked, twisting his fingers to punctuate the statement.
I let out a loud, low moan in spite of myself. I hung my head, really not feeling up to a conversation about how long it had been since I’d given in to the desires I was giving in to right then.
“Loud, too,” Scott added. “Might have to do something about that.”
He dug his fingernails into my hip as a warning, and I did my best to muffle my next moan. I clamped my mouth shut tightly, biting down on my bottom lip as I tried to ride out a wave of pleasure without a sound.
“That’s a good little slut.” Scott chuckled.
As if to reward me for that, he forced a third finger in beside the first two. It was almost too much, but I braced myself to take it and not make a sound. I nodded vaguely in acknowledgement of his statement, not even ashamed to agree that I was a slut. Right then, it was exactly what I was, and I was far past the point of shame. I wanted Scott. I wanted whatever he would give me, pleasure or pain. It didn’t make a difference to me. I just wanted him.
“So eager to obey…” he continued, talking more to himself than to me. “You’d make a hell of a slave. Shame you don’t have a master.”
A master.
That was what I wanted.