Melting Mr. Mowburrey [Erotic Gems]
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by Kim Dare
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica/Gay Fiction
Description: Mr. Mowburrey has a reputation on the local BDSM scene as a dominant with pure ice in his veins. He never gets attached to the submissives he plays with, never lets his emotions rule his head. Tony is a young inexperienced submissive. When he falls for Mr. Mowburrey he knows he doesn't stand a chance, but he still can't resist making one last play for him. With the help of a sweet little prop, Tony is going to do his damndest to make Mr. Mowburrey melt.
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2011 December
eBookwise Release Date: February 2012
11 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [32 KB]
Reading time: 16-23 min.
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
"What the hell is--?" Mr. Arthur Mowburrey stopped on the threshold leading into his friend's study. A frown gathered on his brow as he took in the sight before him.
Hampton was nowhere to be seen. The room's sole occupant glanced at him, but the only reply Mowburrey's half-uttered question received was a pleasure filled murmur.
As Mowburrey watched, the pretty young submissive sitting in one of the armchairs on the far side of the room, tipped his head back a fraction. Each movement slow and deliberate, the boy moved his hand away from his mouth and let the object he was holding slide out from between his lips. His eyes remained half closed--heavy-lidded with pleasure.
Finally, the boy blinked and looked up at Mowburrey through his lashes. "You really should try one, sir. They're delicious."
Mowburrey managed to drag his gaze an inch or two away from the other man's mouth and look him straight in the eye. Tony certainly was delicious. Mowburrey had been well aware of that fact ever since he'd first set eyes on the boy. If Tony hadn't been a fellow guest at Hampton's house, and no doubt invited there to become their host's newest submissive, Mowburrey knew damn well he'd already have given into the temptation to taste the boy for himself.
In the hands of a master craftsman, Tony could so easily be transformed from a somewhat naive and ill-disciplined young man into just the kind of exquisite delicacy a dominant's palate craved. But as for what the boy was eating...
"A chocolate cock," Mowburrey said, more to himself than anyone else.
"I know." Tony smiled as he brought his treat back to his lips and circled the head of the confectionary erection with his tongue. "Want a lick?"
Against his better judgment, Mowburrey stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Not quite able to take his eyes off the boy, he reduced the gap between them and lowered himself to sit on the sofa opposite Tony's chair.
Hell yes, he wanted a lick. He wanted to tie down the boy and have Tony completely at his mercy as he licked the cheeky little sod all over. He wanted to hear Tony scream with frustrated pleasure as he ran his tongue along the underside of the boy's cock again and again, while still refusing him permission to come. A lick was only the start of what he really wanted from the submissive.
"No," Mowburrey said, quietly relieved by how level his voice remained. "I don't."
Tony's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "All the more for me!"
It wasn't a real cock. Mowburrey knew that. It was just a bit of chocolate on a stick. But, damn, Tony didn't seem to be aware of that fact.
The boy lowered his head and let the chocolate slide gradually into his mouth. It went deeper and deeper, until Mowburrey was sure it had to be touching the back of the submissive's throat. No doubt, the boy would be able to deep-throat a real cock no problem, too. He'd obviously had a hell of a lot of practice.
Mowburrey's hand clenched into a fist at his side as he fought back the urge to take a swing at any man who had ever so much as smiled at the younger man, let alone thrust his shaft between his lips.
It was a completely illogical desire. The only man who could have any reasonable right to feel that way was Hampton, even if the other dominant hadn't even got around to collaring him yet.
Mowburrey forced his hand to relax and his fingers to unfurl. Even so, his restraint didn't change the fact that Tony would look good with black leather wrapped around his throat. It didn't alter his certainty that the tag that hung from that collar should declare him to be the property of Mowburrey rather than Hampton.
As Mowburrey watched, the younger man pulled back, letting the chocolate leave his mouth, the surface of it now beautifully moist and just beginning to melt. Tony licked his lips, obviously savoring the sweetness that lingered there. Holding the lolly still, the boy ran his tongue along the underside of it, as if he was tracing the vein that snaked along there, purely for the confectionary's enjoyment.
Mowburrey's own erection strained against the inside of his trousers. He could almost feel Tony's chocolate-coated tongue moving against his shaft. His hand tightened into a fist once more, but this time the only thing he imagined was his fingers wrapping around thick blond strands of hair as he pulled the boy closer and held him still so he could use his mouth in whatever way he chose.
There were tiny dabs of coconut on the replica ball sac set at the base of the chocolate cock. Apparently, Tony either really loved coconut, or he really loved being granted the privilege of worshiping another man's balls. Murmuring his appreciation, he lapped at the firm globes, clearing away any trace of coconut before finally taking each smooth round testicle into his mouth in turn.
Tony's eyes dropped closed as if to better enjoy the way the chocolate filled his mouth and his senses, but eventually he blinked and looked up at Mowburrey once more. There was so much lust in his gaze, so much submission, so much love of servicing a big, hard cock--even a damn chocolate one.
There was so much desire to belong to a dominant man visible in his expression, too. He might as well have jumped up on Hampton's desk and screamed his need for a master at the top of his lungs.
"Has Hampton set any rules for you regarding your conduct with other dominants while you are in his house?" Mowburrey asked.
Tony shook his head. "I'm just staying here for a few days, sir. I don't belong to him. I don't belong to anyone."
Suddenly, Mowburrey was on his feet and standing directly before the seated submissive. The words hit his ears and went straight to his limbs without his brain needing to intervene and make any actual decisions. There was no way he could do anything but step up to the plate once those words hit the air.
Reaching out, Mowburrey took hold of the stick supporting the chocolate treat. Tony didn't even try to keep his possession of it as Mowburrey brushed his fingers aside. The submissive's hand dropped down to rest idly at his side as if it didn't even occur to him to question Mowburrey's right to take anything and everything he wanted from him.
Taking the chocolate was one thing. Taking control of Tony was something else. It wasn't possession of some silly little sweet treat that sent adrenaline racing through Mowburrey's veins. As his cock hardened even further, Mowburrey stared down at Tony, seeing not just the man he was now, but what he could be after six months of intensive training, what he could be after a year spent serving someone who would see to it that he became the best man he could possibly be, and maybe even what he could be after five years of loving and being loved by the kind of master who would take perfect care of him.
Mowburrey's other hand came to rest on the back of Tony's head. Without any hesitation, he slid his fingers through the other man's hair and took a firm grip on him. Tony tilted his head back with easy compliance. His lips parted with the motion. As Mowburrey looked into his eyes, all he saw was acceptance and desire.
Guiding the chocolate forward, Mowburrey let it brush against Tony's parted lips.
The boy opened his mouth in completely instinctive welcome. A wave of appreciation rolled through Mowburrey's body in response. After so long spent in clubs, spent playing with submissives who had been well trained by other men, over months if not years, Mowburrey couldn't remember the last time anyone had offered him such natural and wholehearted submission.
No negotiation. No contracts written out and signed well in advance of the scene. There was nothing between them but the innate response of a submissive toward a more dominant man. In that moment, Tony was his for no other reason than he didn't seem to know how to be anything else.