Sean and Me

Chapter 6

As I’ve said, when we’re not having sex, the dominance/submission ends. He is thoughtful, kind and sweet, and has a great sense of humor. But sometimes he finds a way of slipping an undercurrent of dominance into our regular life.

Once we were at the movies watching the trailers and waiting for the feature to begin. He whispered, “Go into the bathroom, take off your underpants and put them in your back pocket.”

Dutifully, I complied. There was a short line for the stalls. When I got in and locked the door, I untied and removed my sneakers, then, standing on the dirty floor in my socks, pulled off my pants. It wasn’t easy to maneuver in that cramped space. There was no place to hang my pants, so I held them in one hand while I peeled off my briefs with the other. I got my pants and shoes back on and stuffed the underpants in my pocket. The partition was a couple feet off the ground, so anyone who glanced down would have wondered what was going on. Clearly I wasn’t sitting on the can doing what you’re supposed to be doing in there. I went back to watch the movie, and we held hands like teenagers. Gradually, I realized why he had made me do that. I find it mildly uncomfortable not to wear underwear, and I was constantly aware that I was sitting on that lump in my pocket. So while this was not the kind of humiliation he puts me through at home, it was a gentle, persistent reminder of his dominance.

A similar thing happened once when we were just getting ready to leave my house to go to a nice restaurant for brunch. As I was grabbing my keys, out of the blue he said, “Lick my ass.”

I didn’t ask any questions. I dropped immediately to my knees behind him, reached around and undid his pants. I slipped his pants and underwear down, and spread his cheeks with my hands. He spread his legs slightly and leaned forward. I took a long, slow, lap from his balls to the top of his crack. I was ready to keep going, but he stepped forward, pulled his pants back up, and said cheerfully “OK, let’s go.”

It was only in the car that I understood what that was all about. I started to smell the faint aroma of his ass. He had just taken a shower and was clean, but an ass is an ass. All through brunch I would occasionally get a whiff of it. I wondered if the waitress smelled it on me. No mention was made of the incident, and we had a delightful conversation during the meal, but there was always that subtle reminder of what he had made me do.

Chapter 7

Sean and I had planned to spend the night together at his house. I was at mine, waiting for him to call with instructions. When the phone rang I jumped to it.

“Hello?”

“When you get to my house, take off your clothes and go the bedroom closet. Go through my hamper and pull out all the dirty underwear. Take them into the living room and put them in a pile on the floor. Put one of them on your head and lie down on the floor with your face in the pile and your hands clasped behind your back.” He then hung up.

I raced to his house, glad that I didn’t have to get naked before I got inside this time. I did as I was told. I was surprised by how many dirty underpants he had. It was way out of proportion to the other clothes, so he must have been saving them up. There must have been a couple dozen pair. As I collected them, I didn’t notice any skid marks, which would have grossed me out. Each one smelled faintly of his crotch sweat, my favorite scent. All piled together the smell was overpowering. I brought them into the living room and got into position, in front of the window. When he got home, he went into the bedroom and came out a short time later. With the underwear on my head, I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him flop down on the couch and turn on the TV. I didn’t think he’d lie on his sofa naked, so I assumed he changed into jeans or sweats. He didn’t say anything until a commercial came on. He muted the TV and said, “Wipe your ass with one of those.”

My ass was clean, but I had begun to sweat a little. I reached forward, picked one up, reached back and wiped it from bottom to top. I had to lift my butt to make sure my hole was exposed.

“Now stuff it in your mouth.” I shoved as much as I could fit into my mouth, then instinctively returned my hands to their clasped position behind my back. He didn’t say anything more. When the commercial was over, he turned the sound back on. He continued to watch TV for a couple of hours. When the commercials came on, he would usually go take a leak or get a drink. Each time, he would spank my ass on the way there and back. He likes to spank me and I like to let him, but I like it best when he spanks me while I’m sucking him. I don’t get off on pain like serious S&M types, but I do get off on the idea of allowing someone to hurt me a little while I am giving him pleasure. Apparently, spanking was going to be the theme for the night.

Eventually, he decided it was time for bed. He turned off the TV. “Gather those up and stand up,” he said.

I was stiff from being in the same position so long. I pulled all the underwear together and struggled to get to my feet. It isn’t easy to stand when you can’t see and your arms are full. You can’t balance yourself. I stumbled a little but managed to stand. He slapped my ass, not too hard, and said, “You missed one.”

I got back down on my knees and tried to feel around while holding onto the rest. I found it and got back up. He pulled me by my dick toward the bedroom. Before we got there, he stopped. “You dropped another one.” This time he didn’t make me pick it up. He must have picked it up, because I felt him wedge it between my ass cheeks. He grabbed my dick again and pulled me forward. It’s hard to walk blindfolded, especially when you have to keep your ass cheeks clenched. I didn’t want to drop it again.

We stopped next to the bed. He said, “Spread those around on your side of the bed, including the one from your head and the one from your crack. Set the one from your mouth aside.” I figured he had something in mind for that one. It was sopping wet from absorbing my saliva.

“Lie down,” he ordered. I lay on top of the underwear. Spread out on the bed they made a kind of crotch sweat potpourri. He lay next to me on his side of the bed in a 69 position and commanded, “Service me.” This was another code phrase between us. It meant I had to eat his ass while I jerked him off. He pulled my leg over so he could reach my ass and began spanking me. I went to work. Soon my ass was beginning to get sore, so I jerked him faster. Before long, his hips started to buck. I pointed his dick straight up, hoping that some of his come would fall back onto my face. Some did. He shot four or five wads. Some landed on his stomach and one in his pubic hair. Without waiting to be told, I lapped the come from his belly and sucked the one out of his bush.

After he caught his breath, he got up to take his shower. “You can jerk off. Mouth. Then put those back in the hamper, except the one that was in your mouth.” I still wasn’t sure what he had in mind for that one.

After I finished myself off and dutifully lapped up my come, I put everything away and took a shower. When I was through I started toward the kitchen where I had left my clothes.

“No,” Sean said with a smirk. “Wear those.” He pointed to the underwear that had been in my mouth, which were still wet. They felt cold and yucky when I put them on. Plus, they were way too tight since he’s smaller than I am. And who the hell wants to put on somebody else’s soiled underwear after he has just taken a shower? I climbed into bed, but I knew I should stay way over on my side until they dried. Sean leaned over and kissed me gently, then moved back to his side.

Chapter 8

One Sunday morning, after spending the night at my house, Sean gave me some new instructions.

“For the next week you’re not allowed to masturbate without my permission, even at home. If you want to masturbate, call me, but only on the land line. Don’t use my cell.” This restricted the times I could jerk off to late evening and early morning, when he would be at home but not asleep.

Then he turned nice again, and we spent the day together running errands and enjoying each other’s company.

The next day, Monday, I abstained. By Tuesday night I was getting pretty horny, so I gave it a shot, not really expecting him to consent that soon.

When he answered his phone, I asked simply, “May I masturbate?”

“No.” He hung up.

I debated with myself whether to try for permission on Wednesday, but decided against it. Of course, I could have cheated and he would never have known, but I liked the feeling of being at his mercy. During this period we spoke a couple of times about other, non-sexual, things. Sometimes he calls me at work just to let me know he’s thinking about me. I don’t like to ruin those conversations by letting Mr. Hyde out. He always ends those calls with “Bye-bye. I love you.”

By Thursday morning I thought I would explode. I tried again.

“No. Maybe tonight.” That gave me hope. Taking my shower that morning, it was all I could do to keep from coming just from soaping up my dick. I had a hard on most of the day at work. I started calling as soon as I got home, but it kept rolling over to his answering machine. He might have been late getting home, or he might not have been picking up deliberately, knowing it was me and why I was calling. Finally he answered.

“Please, please, please let me jerk off, please.”

“OK, go ahead, but when you come, collect it in your hand and call me back for instructions.”

I started stroking myself between the O and the K. I wanked furiously. When I came, I tried to catch it in my hand, but it blasted all over the place. I did my best to scoop up the biggest globs and called him back.

“Mouth or face?” I asked.

“Face. And leave it there overnight. And you don’t have to call for permission anymore.” That last part wasn’t a kindness. He just didn’t want me to keep calling him every time I wanted to jerk off. While he was talking I smeared the come on my face.

“Here are your new instructions,” he continued. “Until I tell you otherwise, every time you work out you are to wear the same jockstrap. Do not wash it. And every time you jerk off, you have to come into that same jockstrap.” He hung up.

It didn’t take a psychic to know that at some point in the future I would have my face in the pouch of one smelly jockstrap.

Chapter 9

Sometimes we make time for a quiet evening at home. This night it was at my house. I picked up some food and dvd’s, and Sean cooked. He’s a good cook. After dinner we snuggled together on the sofa and put on a dvd of an old movie. After a while I began to notice Sean glancing at the clock a lot. I sensed something was up. At 9:45 he sat up and turned off the TV.

“We’re going to have a guest,” he announced. “I want you to show him how subservient you are to me.”

I got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was testing my limits again, but I didn’t know how far he would go. I couldn’t imagine he would want a three-way. For one thing, we’re too close. For another, we’ve been monogamous for a very long time, so we feel safe doing unsafe things with each other, but I know he wouldn’t expose either of us to an STD. At the very least I was going to be watched having sex. It was bad enough to be put on display in front of the window where someone might see. It was a whole different matter to put on a live performance for someone a few feet away. If I refused, I knew he would call it off with no hard feelings, but then what kind of a submissive would I be? With great reluctance, I decided to go along. I said nothing, but dropped my head slightly as a sign of acquiescence.

“Go in the bedroom and get on your knees. Put on your blindfold and lay out two ties. He’ll be here soon.” We keep some old neckties around for such purposes. Two usually meant he would be tying my wrists and ankles. If he were going to tie me to the bed he would use four.

I went to the bedroom and got undressed. I assumed my customary position and waited. At least it was in the bedroom, not in the living room where the whole world could see. A short time later, my doorbell rang. I heard the door open and close. Neither of them spoke. I heard them come into the bedroom.

“Have a seat. Get comfortable,” Sean said. I heard the visitor sit down in my big upholstered chair.

I heard Sean step in front of me. “Take off my shoes and socks.” I did.

“Lick my feet.” Neither of us has much of a foot fetish, so I figured this was for the visitor’s benefit. Perhaps he had requested it. I licked the tops, one at a time. Then he lifted them, one at a time, for me to lick the bottoms and suck the toes.

“Dry them.” I knew what he meant. I rubbed them in my hair to dry them off a bit.

“Stand up and take off my shirt.” I scrambled to my feet and felt my way to all the buttons. I slipped it off and it fell to the floor. Or maybe he caught it and tossed it somewhere.

“Lick my armpit.” I felt my way to his armpit and began to lick. In some ways I think licking an armpit is more demeaning than licking an asshole. Assholes usually smell worse, but they’re a very sensitive part of the body. When a guy makes you lick his ass, you know it’s making him feel real good. When he makes you lick his armpit, it is purely because he wants to dominate you. I dove in like a hungry calf.

“Now the other one.” I moved to his other armpit and lapped at it.

After a time he backed away and put his hands on my shoulders. He gently pushed me backward and to one side. I figured he was pushing me toward the visitor.

“Bend over and spread your cheeks with your hands so our guest can inspect your asshole.” This was really humiliating. I’m embarrassed when I have to do that for a doctor, much less an unseen stranger. In my own home, no less. Still, I had to do as I was told. I thought I heard a soft moan, as if the visitor was enjoying this. It occurred to me that he hadn’t said anything yet. I wondered if he and Sean might have arranged that ahead of time, so I wouldn’t recognize his voice.

Sean pulled me forward a few steps and pushed down hard on my shoulders. “Back on your knees,” he ordered. “Take off my pants.” I undid the belt and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them away. “Underwear. Use your teeth.” I pulled them down to his feet, and he stepped out of them. I heard him walk around behind me. He pulled my arms back and tied my wrists, then pulled my ankles together and tied them. He walked around in front again.

“Lick my balls.” I raised my head and began to lick, but he pushed my head away. “No. From behind.” I clumsily hobbled around behind him. He must have bent over and spread his legs because I was able to reach his balls easily. I took them both in my mouth and massaged them with my tongue. My nose was against his butthole. It felt warm and moist.

“Now lick my asshole,” he said in a commanding, slightly threatening voice.

I decided to ham it up a bit. “Please don’t make me do that,” I whimpered. “You know I don’t like to do that.” He grabbed my hair and shoved my face into his ass.

“Lick it!” he practically shouted. I ate him like I never had before. My cock was throbbing at this point. I still didn’t like the idea of being watched, but it was making Sean more aggressive, and I liked that. I slobbered all over it. I tongue-fucked it. I rubbed my face all over it. He relaxed his sphincter and let my tongue go way up in. Then he tightened and squeezed it out. He repeated that over and over again. It went on for a long time.

Finally, he pulled forward and commanded, “Now suck me off.” I hobbled back in front of him and started sucking. I pictured him standing over me with his hands on his hips, looking down on me as I bobbed my head up and down on his cock. I imagined how it must look to the voyeur: the slim, boyish Sean exercising total control over his much larger, well-muscled subordinate. It didn’t take Sean long. When he was ready, he pulled out, stroked himself a couple times, then came all over my face and in my open, waiting mouth.

After he recovered, I heard the visitor get up and the two of them walked to the door. Sean said goodnight to him. The door opened and closed. I don’t think the guy had jerked off while he watched us. If he did, he did it quietly.

I heard Sean come back into the bedroom. He untied my wrists and ankles and slipped off my blindfold. He helped me up and gestured toward the bed. I lay down and he sat on my face while he gave me a hand job. That is my favorite thing in the world. It was my reward for putting on a good show. Afterward, I still had to wait for him to clean up first, though.

I never found out who the visitor was. If I asked Sean he would tell me. My guess is it was one of our mutual friends. It is horribly degrading to think that any time we have friends over, one of them might be looking at me and thinking about the time he watched Sean make me lick his asshole. That’s why I don’t ask. It’s more degrading not to know.