Experimental (Lewis) (Part One - Prologue and A-M)
A/N: There's not much here in the way of plot - this is more an a-z of kinks, so if you don't enjoy explicit stories featuring our two favourite detectives exploring their physical relationship, I would politely suggest you read no further. Again, this contains explicit and kinky sex between two consenting adults. It's all safe, sane and consensual here!
Prelude
They lie there together side by side in the sticky yet satisfied aftermath, both of them sweaty and panting and desperately in need of a shower, or a damp cloth at the very least. Robbie feels he should be the one to move first, given how utterly wrecked James appears at the moment, but he can’t quite summon the strength to leave their bed just yet.
He can still feel the tiny aftershocks rippling through his body from one of the most intense orgasms he’s had in recent years. If he’s being completely honest with himself, Robbie didn’t think he was still capable of coming quite that hard, though perhaps he should credit James with that, especially given the surprising turn events had taken during the course of the evening.
“So, that was…” Robbie starts, then stops, rolling up onto one hip so he can see James. “What was that, exactly, love?”
James’s eyes are loosely closed, and he has an atypically wide grin on his parted lips, his narrow chest still heaving slightly as he tries to catch his breath. “It was bloody brilliant, whatever it was,” he gasps eventually, and Robbie finds himself grinning as well.
“So, you liked it, then? When I held you down like that? And when I spanked you?”
It certainly hadn’t been something Robbie had planned, grabbing James’s wrists like that and pinning him to the mattress, more a spur of the moment thing that had left him astonished when James’s pupils had immediately blown wide with arousal. Even more of a surprise had been the reaction to the tentative smack he’d landed on James’s plush backside later - a throaty scream, followed by James almost immediately erupting in orgasm, without even a single touch to his cock.
Now Robbie watches as James shrugs against the pillows, apparently not quite finding the strength to open his eyes yet. “Yes. No. I don’t… Yes, I think I did. No, I definitely did.”
“You’ve never…?” Robbie shouldn’t be surprised, perhaps; James had once trained to be a priest, after all, though of course that fact alone didn’t rule out a liking for the kinkier side of life.
“No. Never.”
Robbie can see a tiny frown starting to form on James’s brow now, though the other man still hasn’t opened his eyes, and the last thing he wants is for James to start overthinking things now. He reaches across to stroke a hand over James’s chest, resting his palm flat over a racing heart for a brief moment, then slowly slides that hand up over sweat-drenched skin.
“I think you liked that a lot,” Robbie whispers, hardly daring to breathe as he closes his fingers loosely around James’s throat. No pressure, not really, just a presence, and the barest hint of a threat. This could be a very bad idea, though he hopes, perhaps…
And to Robbie’s enormous relief, the frown immediately disappears as James falls limp beneath his touch, a soft sigh slipping from his lips and his closed eyelids fluttering slightly. James is utterly beautiful like this, and Robbie feels his spent cock twitch in a sudden surge of sheer desire, though sadly he’s far too old to get it up again any time soon.
It’s been a very long while since Robbie had a partner who might want to play. He and Val’d had a wonderful and varied sex life, full of joyous and enthusiastic experimentation, though they’d toned things down out of necessity when the kids had been little, then never quite got back to it once they had the house to themselves again. Laura had made it pretty clear that it didn’t appeal to her at all, quite early on in their ultimately doomed attempt at being more than just good friends, which Robbie had respected and been more than contented with.
Robbie would never have expected James to like anything along these lines. Of course, he should know better than to ever assume anything about what his James may or may not like.
Leaning across, he closes his fingers a fraction more tightly around James’s throat for just a second as he kisses James deeply on the lips, swallowing the needy groan that slips free. “So,” he asks huskily when they break apart, “D’you think this might be something you might like to explore? Us getting a little bit more experimental… in the bedroom department, I mean?”
Robbie doesn’t expect an answer, at least not immediately, but to his surprise James’s eyes fly open at once, dark with lust yet again.
“Yes, Robert. Oh, yes please.”
A is for Anal Beads
The smallest one slips in with barely any pressure needed, just as Robbie would expect after the time he’s already spent stretching James open. The next one is a few millimetres wider, still only requiring a gentle push before disappearing inside, though James gasps softly at the sensation and pushes his head down into the pillow, his eyes scrunched tightly shut.
Robbie smiles to himself, holding James’s cheeks apart with one hand as he readies the third bead, which is slightly larger again. He doesn’t tease, giving it a firm push with his thumb instead and watching as James’s hole seems to eat it up, the tight muscles clenching shut immediately around the intruder.
“More?” he asks, and James just grunts in response. “Okay, then, more it is.”
The fourth and fifth beads go in easily enough, each of them slicked up and ready, and James is panting hard by the time Robbie presses the sixth bead to his hole, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hips beginning to hump the mattress beneath him. This bead is the size of a large marble, and Robbie can only imagine the sensations James must be feeling as he needs to use a little more force to guide it inside.
James must be so full now, each new bead knocking into the one before it and driving it deeper, all of them brushing up against sensitive inner walls. But they aren’t done yet, not by any means.
“Three more, James,” Robbie announces, earning him both a whimper and a nod, and he strokes his hand soothingly across the small of James’s back once before picking up the seventh bead and guiding it in with relentless pressure. “Now another two.”
Bead number eight is nearly the size of a golf ball, and Robbie pauses for a moment, giving James a chance to breathe. He presses it gently against James’s perineum, watching as the muscles in James’s thighs quiver at the sensation, then pushes it against the straining hole slowly yet firmly. The muscles seem to resist at first, before starting to spread wider then wider still around the intruder, and Robbie uses the attached chain to hold the bead in position at its very widest point for just a few seconds.
“Please,” James gasps brokenly, and Robbie eventually lets the eighth bead disappear inside, the ring of muscle closing almost immediately to leave only the chain visible, with a further four slick beads still ready and waiting. Robbie had thought he could get James up to number nine of twelve this time, but perhaps he’d been overly optimistic. Number nine seems far too big now given how much James is already carrying inside his body.
Instead, Robbie tugs gently at the chain until bead number eight starts to reappear again, fascinated by the way James’s body stretches around it only to close up immediately when he releases the chain. He carefully slides one slick finger in after the bead, poking it deeper still and doubtless causing a cascade of sensations for James as the beads knock into one another.
James’s entire body suddenly tenses with a garbled shout, and Robbie repeats the action with a grin, knowing that one or more of the beads is now pressing up against his prostate, before sliding his finger free and taking up the chain once again.
“They’re coming out now,” he warns, and then… then he starts to pull.
B is for Bondage
The ropes aren’t tight, but they are snug, wrapped around James’s long arms and looped around his torso. He breathes slowly, deeply, steadily, as Robbie weaves intricate patterns about his body, work-rough hands settling knots carefully into position and smoothing tangles before they can chafe.
Each pass of the rope feels like a lover’s tender caress, and James can only smile and breathe as Robbie continues his work, marvelling at the look of intense concentration on the older man’s face. The ropes are soft yet strong, the harness already complex and growing more so with each knot, leaving James no choice but to relax into their embrace and allow Robbie to position his body as he wishes.
His upper arms are pinned to his sides, his wrists tied at the small of his back. The harness encircles his chest and shoulders, looping around his waist before slipping down between his thighs and back up along his spine, an extra loop wrapped around his cock and balls. His legs remain free, for now at least, and James rests back on his heels as Robbie works around him and over him.
James is so lost in the soothing and repetitive sensations that it takes him a long moment to realise Robbie has paused, and he blinks up at him in question, suddenly unable to form words.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Robbie whispers, undeniable love shining in his eyes, and James can only sigh as a tender hand strokes down his cheek then further down his chest, brushing over the strands of ropes. “Breathe easy, now.”
James watches through half-lidded eyes as Robbie takes hold of the harness in both hands then tugs, gently yet firmly, and everything just… tightens. And the last of the tension falls away from his body as he surrenders entirely to the ropes.
C is for Collar
Each and every time Robbie glances over at James during the course of the day, the knowledge of exactly what he is hiding under that perfectly ironed shirt and elegantly knotted tie threatens to either make him weak at the knees or give him an embarrassing workplace erection. And James, the smug git, seems to know exactly what effect he’s having, making a show of adjusting his tie or stroking his throat with a tiny smile hovering on his lips.
No one would ever know, that’s how perfectly concealed it is. Even if James were to loosen his top button, Robbie doubts anyone would see so much as a glimpse, which is definitely for the best even if he certainly wouldn’t mind people seeing that James belongs to him. This is something just for Robbie, and for James too, of course. Though probably more for James, if Robbie is being completely honest.
James is the one who suggested this, after all.
They’d tried on at least a dozen different styles, in a tiny and discrete shop, before finally settling on the one James is wearing now. It’s one he’s worn many times before, though Robbie can never predict quite when James will ask to wear it. It’s made of the thinnest and most supple leather, barely a centimetre wide, and lined with brushed suede to avoid chafing. Black had seemed too harsh against James’s pale skin, so Robbie had selected a dark chocolate brown colour, with a contrasting deep red lining, finished with a simple buckle at the back and a tiny pendant which bears Robbie’s initials.
As Robbie watches, lust and want and possession simmering low in his belly, James raises a hand to his neck once again, running a thumb just beneath his shirt collar.
“You okay there, James?” Robbie asks gruffly.
And James glances surreptitiously over his shoulder, as if to check no one is within hearing range, before answering him.
“Yes, Sir.”
D is for Deepthroat
Robbie’s always been more than content with his size. He’s a little bigger than average length, which is certainly nothing to be sniffed at, and he’s thick even when limp, growing to what he personally feels is a pretty impressive girth when aroused.
That’s occasionally made things difficult for James, though, and Robbie has always been careful never to pressure or rush him into anything. If they’re planning for Robbie to penetrate James, he takes his time with prep and is generous with the lube, but the first few times they tried this particular act James had practically choked.
It’s taken time, practise and a lot of patience - training, James had said with a teasing smile - for them to reach this point. For James to be kneeling on a cushion between Robbie’s feet, eyes closed in bliss as he opens his mouth and jaw as wide as he can, relaxing his throat and swallowing Robbie right down to the root until his nose is pressed against the coarse curls at Robbie’s groin.
James’s throat is hot and slick, and tight like a glove around Robbie’s cock as he bobs carefully up and down. Robbie tries to breathe deep and slow, resting his hands on the younger man’s head to guide his movements, as the desire to thrust grows harder to ignore. He wants nothing more than to hold James in place and to come right down his throat, but that isn’t something they’d discussed. He didn’t think they’d get this far tonight.
As if he knows exactly what Robbie is thinking, James suddenly opens his eyes and stares up at him through fluttering eyelashes as he sinks lower once again, taking Robbie as deep as he possibly can before stopping. Permission, and acceptance, and Robbie tightens his grip on James’s hair to tug him down a fraction further, blocking his airway for a few seconds as he abruptly finds his release with a loud shout.
Robbie nearly blacks out with the pleasure as James swallows over and over again, the contractions of his throat milking every last drop from Robbie. He doesn’t black out, of course, at least not quite - he loosens his grip on James, who actually stays in place for another few seconds before pulling up and off with a gasp and a cough, his eyes suspiciously bright.
Before Robbie can find his voice to ask if James is okay, though, the other man licks his lips like the cat who got the cream, and breathes, “Thank you.”
E is for Enema
This is usually a private, almost furtive action. A quick five minutes spent alone in the bathroom, normally in the shower just before they head for bed, making use of the little balloon pump and its attachments. A prelude to an evening’s entertainment, rather than a shared act of intimacy in and of itself.
But surprisingly James feels no embarrassment, even as he curls on his side on the bathroom floor, naked as the day he was born and nestled in a bundle of towels which have been warmed in the dryer. Robbie’s hands are soothing and tender as he stretches James briefly before sliding the tube carefully into place, murmuring soft words of encouragement the whole time, and James just closes his eyes and allows himself to be cared for.
“I’m opening it up, now,” Robbie warns quietly, and in the very next moment James can feel the warm water starting to flood into his lower body. It’s always a strange sensation, though he knows some people draw pleasure from the feeling, but for him the cramping always starts almost immediately and he can’t quite hold back a low grunt. “Breathe, love.”
A large, warm hand rubs soothing circles over his navel as his stomach starts to swell under the relentless pressure, and James pants obediently, trying to ignore the urgent need to empty his bowels of the unwanted fluid. This needs to be done, and it’s always a gift to be the centre of Robbie’s world for a time.
“Can you hold it?” Robbie asks, and James realises he must be full already, the contents of the bag now filling him and working its cleansing magic. He wants it out - in spite of Robbie’s gentle hands, the cramping is almost too much to bear.
He shakes his head, feeling both hot and cold, and a little shivery too. “I don’t think I can… I don’t know, Robbie, I…”
“Okay, James. Here we go then - take a deep breath for me.” With no further warning Robbie carefully pulls the tube from James’s body, immediately sliding something solid into place to fill the emptiness and keep him closed without straining - a plug, one of the smaller ones from their collection. “That should help. Just a couple of minutes more, pet. You’re so good for me.”
And James sighs into the nest of towels, trying to relax and knowing Robbie will take care of him, as he always does.
F is for Fisting
Four fingers deep already, twisting and turning his hand against silken smooth inner walls, and Robbie marvels at the way he can feel James’s pulse rippling through him with every motion. He pauses, tucks his thumb in close to his palm, and takes a deep, steadying breath.
“Bear down for me, pet,” he whispers, and he starts to push.
James groans deep in his chest, and for a moment there is too much resistance, muscles clenching painfully tight around the widest point of Robbie’s hand, until suddenly, suddenly…
Dear god, he’s in, all the way up to his wrist and even beyond. Robbie’s mouth is agape and he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his hand disappearing deep inside James’s willing body. The heat and the pressure is immense, and he holds as still as he can to allow James some time to adjust, if adjustment is even possible. He can’t even imagine what James must be feeling, stretched open as wide as he’s ever been.
“Okay?” he asks breathlessly, and after a pause James manages to flap one hand on the mattress in a gesture that could mean nearly anything. “James, talk to me, please. Use your words.”
A garbled noise escapes James’s throat, before he manages to gasp, “Fine. ‘S fine. So full…”
Carefully, slowly, Robbie curls his fingers into a fist, clenching tight to stretch James even wider, and a broken sob slips from James’s lips, the muscles of his anus fluttering helplessly around Robbie’s wrist as he starts to push deeper still. He’d half-expected James to be a bundle of tension at this moment, but instead the other man has fallen completely limp and pliant, his long body flushed with heat and his skin prickled with goose-bumps.
Another inch deeper, and Robbie twists his wrist first in one direction, then back in the other. He pulls back slowly until he is nearly all the way out, then pushes in again, starting up a steady rhythm which soon sees James breathing in time with his actions. In and out, slow and deep. And time seems to melt away around them.
G is for Gags
James is surprised to learn how much he enjoys being made to simply stop talking. He is more than aware of his reputation as the man who always has the perfect quote for every occasion, and he also knows he has a tendency to slip into what Robbie has always teasingly referred to as ‘lecture-mode’ when talking about a topic that fascinates him.
He’s never been particularly noisy in the bedroom, though, apart from the occasional moan and gasp, and from the very beginning Robbie has seemed to take great pleasure in wringing the occasional scream of pleasure from his lips, usually when James is least expecting it.
So the first time Robbie slips a gag around his head, James is surprised by his own response. He can’t beg, can’t scream, can barely gasp, and somehow it is one of the most liberating feelings he’s ever experienced. It’s a simple silk scarf the first time, clearly improvised, then a soft leather band the next night, as Robbie picks up on James’s interest.
James isn’t a particular fan of the penis-shaped gag, though he’ll tolerate it when Robbie asks as he does adore the moments when Robbie pushes him to his knees and gags him with his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t much like the bit gag either, as it chafes at his lips and makes him drool uncontrollably, and he’d safe-worded for the first time ever when Robbie had shown him the spider gag. He still doesn’t know why he’d reacted so strongly, but Robbie’s reassurances had meant the whole world to him, and they’d thrown it straight in the bin that very night.
But the ball gag is somehow absolutely perfect, straining James’s lips just enough to keep him focussed yet keeping his mouth so comfortably full that he can barely make any sound at all. And the freedom to simply be silent is one of the greatest gifts Robbie has ever given him.
H is for High heels
He still feels more than a little self-conscious wearing them, though he does love the way Robbie reacts when he sees them, and they are far more comfortable than he would ever have expected. He keeps them safely packed away in their box, wrapped lovingly in soft tissue paper, until one of the rare nights when he is home first and in the right mood, waiting for his partner to arrive.
Tonight, James changes quickly out of his sombre black suit into a pair of skin-tight jeans and a soft t-shirt before reaching into the depths of their wardrobe. The box is right where it should be, and he carries it over to the bed to place it down reverently before opening it, slowly, carefully. And there they are, waiting for him.
Simple, classic. Black. Beautiful.
He slides on the right one first, then the left, taking a moment to adjust to the way they force his feet to bend before he stands up, careful not to knock his head on the lightshade. Too tall, he thinks with a brief grimace, shifting his hips and settling his weight in place as he stretches to his glorious new height. He’ll have to duck when he walks through the door - he learned that lesson the hard way - but he knows it’ll all be worth it.
He’s waiting in the kitchen when he finally hears Robbie’s car outside the flat, and he can’t hide his smile of anticipation as he positions himself carefully by the sink, his back to the door and his legs hip-width apart. This isn’t entirely for Robbie, after all, not by any means.
A key turning in the front door, then Robbie’s footsteps in the hallway. A pause and a rustle as he hangs up his coat, a dull thud as he kicks off his shoes, and James feels his heart start to beat a little faster. More footsteps, another pause, then Robbie calls out, “James? You home, love?”
“In the kitchen,” he calls back, squaring his shoulders and waiting, waiting, waiting -
“Oh, hello, there!” Robbie immediately sounds breathless, and James slides his right foot out a fraction, cocking his hip and relishing the moan of desire he hears behind him as the muscles in his ass tense.
In a matter of seconds, Robbie is kneeling on the cold kitchen tiles by James’s side, open-mouthed with obvious lust and both hands hovering over one shoe, clearly not quite daring to touch yet as he stares at the extended length of James’s legs. He moans again, eyes shining brightly, and James feels a stab of longing deep in his own belly.
It’s going to be a bloody good night, James can tell.
I is for Intercrural
Robbie knows James must be sore, despite his protests to the contrary. They’ve been particularly enthusiastic in the bedroom over the previous few nights, and the last thing he ever wants is to cause James any permanent damage, or more pain than either of them can bear. Those particular overused muscles will need a few days off in order to recover properly.
So tonight, Robbie thinks they’ll try something a little different.
“Lie on your side, pet,” he murmurs, coaxing a slightly confused but entirely willing James into position on the bed, and making sure he keeps his legs together rather than tilting one forwards for balance. “There. That’s perfect.”
He slicks up both hands before sliding them between James’s thighs, marvelling once again at the power he can feel in the muscles of those rower’s legs as James tenses briefly in surprise before relaxing into Robbie’s touch. Working swiftly but thoroughly, he uses the remaining lube to slick his aching erection, then lies down behind James, as close as he can get.
“Mmm, Robert…” James has clearly figured out exactly what the plan is, and he sighs happily when Robbie slides closer to wrap one arm around James’s chest and slips the other beneath the pillow to support his head, spooning their bodies up together.
With a firm yet careful push, Robbie slides his cock between those solid thighs, nudging the back of James’s balls as he does so, and they both groan in unison. “Squeeze down, James, like… Oh, just like that, man.”
Robbie starts to thrust, keeping his movements gentle at first, though he swiftly starts to lose control as the tightness combined with the easy glide threaten to overwhelm him far too quickly. The heat and sweat start to build between their bodies, and he can feel James trembling in his arms already. This won’t last long for either of them.
He reaches round and down to take James in hand, finding him rock hard and leaking steadily. “Don’t hold back, love,” he grunts, speeding up his thrusts as he feels his release building rapidly. “Come for me.”
After another two thrusts, James shudders apart in his arms with a low shout of delight, his legs clamping together so tightly around Robbie’s cock that he practically sees stars. And Robbie manages another thrust before those stars explode.
J is for Jewellery
“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting when you said you’d bought me a ring,” James whines, already fighting the urge to writhe around on the bed though Robbie has only just slipped the little piece of rubber around his cock and balls.
Rather than continuing on with their evening’s play, Robbie suddenly sits back on his heels, perched as he is between James’s spread thighs, and glances up at him nervously. “James, love, I…”
“Oh, Robbie, no. I didn’t mean that.”
James suddenly feels terribly guilty, tugging at his hands in an attempt to sit up and reassure his partner. He can feel his erection already starting to flag, though the cuffs keeping his wrists pinned to the bedframe above his head don’t allow him even an inch of leeway. They don’t often use handcuffs, not with the jobs they do, but tonight of all nights…
Robbie leans closer, bracing himself over James’s naked body with one hand pressed to the mattress, and kisses him very softly. “I didn’t know that was something you wanted,” he says quietly, and James shakes his head immediately.
“It’s not, I promise.” And it really isn’t; it was a poor attempt at a joke, one James really should have thought through properly before opening his mouth. It’s Robbie’s fault really, getting him so turned on he can barely think straight, then locking this tiny instrument of torture around his genitals. He cranes his neck upwards, begging silently for another kiss, and Robbie stares into his eyes for a long moment before smiling softly and giving him what they both want.
The kiss quickly grows hot and heavy, then James practically bucks off the bed as Robbie’s free hand wraps around his cock, stroking him rapidly back to full hardness. His orgasm starts to coil tight in his belly, but the pressure and presence of the ring tells him he won’t be allowed release any time soon, and he whines again, low in his throat.
“This might not have a diamond,” Robbie starts softly, that teasing glint back in his bright blue eyes and James knows it’s all forgiven and forgotten. “But it does do this.”
James can feel Robbie’s strong fingers doing something to the rubber around his balls, and he opens his mouth to ask what his partner means, but then the sudden vibrations rippling through his lower body wipe every remaining coherent thought from his mind.
K is for Knifeplay
It had sounded like such a good idea when they’d discussed it a week ago, but now James finds he isn’t actually quite so certain after all. He’s tied to the bed, soft yet strong silk ropes keeping him in position on his back, his legs spread wide and his cock already straining as Robbie stands at the foot of the bed, watching him.
He trusts Robbie more than he trusts himself, but still, this sort of role play is something very new.
He swallows hard as Robbie slowly lifts the knife he holds in his right hand, the blade glinting brightly as it catches the light. Robbie wears jeans and a shirt, while James is dressed only in an old, loose pair of boxers and a faded t-shirt - the plan is for Robbie to cut the garments from his body, then hold the knife against his skin as if -
“Aristotle,” he gasps, feeling his chest grow suddenly tight as his heart starts to race, and immediately Robbie puts the knife down on the dresser behind him before moving swiftly to undo the knots tying James in place.
“Okay, James, love. It’s over. All over. I’ve got you, just breathe for me.”
In a matter of seconds James is free, and he curls into a tight ball on his side as Robbie drapes a warm blanket over him, one hand stroking his head and the other rubbing gentle circles at the base of his spine.
“I’m okay,” he tells Robbie as soon as he can, and he really is, his heartrate already settling and his breathing easier. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened…”
“Don’t ever apologise, James. To be honest, if you hadn’t used your safe word, I might’ve used mine.” Robbie sounds sincere, and James shuffles forwards until he is pressing his forehead against his partner’s strong thigh, both seeking and giving reassurance.
“Let’s not try that again,” he whispers, and Robbie tucks the blanket tighter still around his body.
“Agreed.”
L is for Lingerie
One by one, slowly and steadily, Robbie tugs the laces tighter then tighter still, feeling increasingly breathless himself even as James pants softly to draw in as much oxygen as he can around the black silk steadily compressing his waist and ribcage.
“Beautiful,” he whispers with another firm tug, and James’s head falls backwards with a gasp, baring his long, pale neck. Robbie holds the laces in one hand, running the other hand around James’s narrowed waist, feeling the smooth silk and the strain of the steel boning. So incredibly beautiful.
James is always slender, of course, but the corset draws his manly frame into an hourglass shape, his hips and buttocks pushed down and out as his chest is forced high, and at the moment his waist is so slim that Robbie feels he could enclose it entirely by wrapping his two hands around it. And with each tightening of the laces, that tiny waist grows narrower still.
Robbie pauses for a long moment, listening to James take tiny little sips of air, imagining how tight his chest must feel, and how his ribs and diaphragm must be struggling to find the room to expand. The power Robbie holds in his hands is tangible; with one firm tug on the laces he could almost stop James from breathing entirely, though James trusts him to know when to stop, and Robbie won’t push him further than he can bear. Not this time, at least.
He strokes his hand up the straining silk and over James’s chest, admiring the way the corset forces James’s pectoral muscles to swell into something resembling a woman’s breasts. Then he strokes his hand back down, palm flat, until he can feel the hard length of James’s erection, trapped in his tight silk panties and begging for attention.
“So beautiful,” he whispers with a smile, adding, “Once more, just for me?”
And Robbie waits for James’s desperate nod before drawing the laces tighter still.
M is for Massage
It’s a beautifully vulnerable position, and Robbie can’t help but marvel at the way James submits to him so willingly, without even the assistance of restraints on this occasion. James is on his knees on their bed with his chest pressed low to the mattress and fisted hands resting by his head, and the position leaves his pale backside raised and open to whatever action Robbie chooses.
And Robbie has chosen to play with his lover. Just a little bit.
“Like this or not at all,” he whispers, not for the first time, as he keeps one hand rubbing gentle circles over James’s lower back; all the while, two fingers on his other hand are working deep inside that vulnerable opening, teasing and stroking and stretching.
James groans, low and needy, as Robbie’s searching fingers brush again and again over that little bundle of nerves, rubbing and pressing before sliding away, never quite giving James what he truly needs. They’ve been playing for quite some time, now, and all the fine muscles in James’s back and legs are quivering with the effort of holding himself still. James’s cock and balls hang heavy and exposed between his legs, a steady stream of clear liquid dripping down to soak into the mattress; Robbie suspects James is far beyond words at this point.
“You’re being so good for me, love.” Robbie is struggling with the desire to throw caution to the wind and simply fuck into James hard and fast, but - “Just like this, James. You can come just like this, any time now. Come for me.”
The time for teasing has passed. He finds James’s prostate yet again, his fingers drawn almost unerringly to that walnut-shaped hotspot, and starts up a rhythmic and rapid massage. Beneath him, James chokes on what could be a sob as Robbie keeps going, harder and faster, until suddenly his entire body locks up in orgasm and the muscles in his ass clamp down like a vice around Robbie’s fingers.
Experimental Part Two (N-Z)
Prelude
They lie there together side by side in the sticky yet satisfied aftermath, both of them sweaty and panting and desperately in need of a shower, or a damp cloth at the very least. Robbie feels he should be the one to move first, given how utterly wrecked James appears at the moment, but he can’t quite summon the strength to leave their bed just yet.
He can still feel the tiny aftershocks rippling through his body from one of the most intense orgasms he’s had in recent years. If he’s being completely honest with himself, Robbie didn’t think he was still capable of coming quite that hard, though perhaps he should credit James with that, especially given the surprising turn events had taken during the course of the evening.
“So, that was…” Robbie starts, then stops, rolling up onto one hip so he can see James. “What was that, exactly, love?”
James’s eyes are loosely closed, and he has an atypically wide grin on his parted lips, his narrow chest still heaving slightly as he tries to catch his breath. “It was bloody brilliant, whatever it was,” he gasps eventually, and Robbie finds himself grinning as well.
“So, you liked it, then? When I held you down like that? And when I spanked you?”
It certainly hadn’t been something Robbie had planned, grabbing James’s wrists like that and pinning him to the mattress, more a spur of the moment thing that had left him astonished when James’s pupils had immediately blown wide with arousal. Even more of a surprise had been the reaction to the tentative smack he’d landed on James’s plush backside later - a throaty scream, followed by James almost immediately erupting in orgasm, without even a single touch to his cock.
Now Robbie watches as James shrugs against the pillows, apparently not quite finding the strength to open his eyes yet. “Yes. No. I don’t… Yes, I think I did. No, I definitely did.”
“You’ve never…?” Robbie shouldn’t be surprised, perhaps; James had once trained to be a priest, after all, though of course that fact alone didn’t rule out a liking for the kinkier side of life.
“No. Never.”
Robbie can see a tiny frown starting to form on James’s brow now, though the other man still hasn’t opened his eyes, and the last thing he wants is for James to start overthinking things now. He reaches across to stroke a hand over James’s chest, resting his palm flat over a racing heart for a brief moment, then slowly slides that hand up over sweat-drenched skin.
“I think you liked that a lot,” Robbie whispers, hardly daring to breathe as he closes his fingers loosely around James’s throat. No pressure, not really, just a presence, and the barest hint of a threat. This could be a very bad idea, though he hopes, perhaps…
And to Robbie’s enormous relief, the frown immediately disappears as James falls limp beneath his touch, a soft sigh slipping from his lips and his closed eyelids fluttering slightly. James is utterly beautiful like this, and Robbie feels his spent cock twitch in a sudden surge of sheer desire, though sadly he’s far too old to get it up again any time soon.
It’s been a very long while since Robbie had a partner who might want to play. He and Val’d had a wonderful and varied sex life, full of joyous and enthusiastic experimentation, though they’d toned things down out of necessity when the kids had been little, then never quite got back to it once they had the house to themselves again. Laura had made it pretty clear that it didn’t appeal to her at all, quite early on in their ultimately doomed attempt at being more than just good friends, which Robbie had respected and been more than contented with.
Robbie would never have expected James to like anything along these lines. Of course, he should know better than to ever assume anything about what his James may or may not like.
Leaning across, he closes his fingers a fraction more tightly around James’s throat for just a second as he kisses James deeply on the lips, swallowing the needy groan that slips free. “So,” he asks huskily when they break apart, “D’you think this might be something you might like to explore? Us getting a little bit more experimental… in the bedroom department, I mean?”
Robbie doesn’t expect an answer, at least not immediately, but to his surprise James’s eyes fly open at once, dark with lust yet again.
“Yes, Robert. Oh, yes please.”
A is for Anal Beads
The smallest one slips in with barely any pressure needed, just as Robbie would expect after the time he’s already spent stretching James open. The next one is a few millimetres wider, still only requiring a gentle push before disappearing inside, though James gasps softly at the sensation and pushes his head down into the pillow, his eyes scrunched tightly shut.
Robbie smiles to himself, holding James’s cheeks apart with one hand as he readies the third bead, which is slightly larger again. He doesn’t tease, giving it a firm push with his thumb instead and watching as James’s hole seems to eat it up, the tight muscles clenching shut immediately around the intruder.
“More?” he asks, and James just grunts in response. “Okay, then, more it is.”
The fourth and fifth beads go in easily enough, each of them slicked up and ready, and James is panting hard by the time Robbie presses the sixth bead to his hole, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hips beginning to hump the mattress beneath him. This bead is the size of a large marble, and Robbie can only imagine the sensations James must be feeling as he needs to use a little more force to guide it inside.
James must be so full now, each new bead knocking into the one before it and driving it deeper, all of them brushing up against sensitive inner walls. But they aren’t done yet, not by any means.
“Three more, James,” Robbie announces, earning him both a whimper and a nod, and he strokes his hand soothingly across the small of James’s back once before picking up the seventh bead and guiding it in with relentless pressure. “Now another two.”
Bead number eight is nearly the size of a golf ball, and Robbie pauses for a moment, giving James a chance to breathe. He presses it gently against James’s perineum, watching as the muscles in James’s thighs quiver at the sensation, then pushes it against the straining hole slowly yet firmly. The muscles seem to resist at first, before starting to spread wider then wider still around the intruder, and Robbie uses the attached chain to hold the bead in position at its very widest point for just a few seconds.
“Please,” James gasps brokenly, and Robbie eventually lets the eighth bead disappear inside, the ring of muscle closing almost immediately to leave only the chain visible, with a further four slick beads still ready and waiting. Robbie had thought he could get James up to number nine of twelve this time, but perhaps he’d been overly optimistic. Number nine seems far too big now given how much James is already carrying inside his body.
Instead, Robbie tugs gently at the chain until bead number eight starts to reappear again, fascinated by the way James’s body stretches around it only to close up immediately when he releases the chain. He carefully slides one slick finger in after the bead, poking it deeper still and doubtless causing a cascade of sensations for James as the beads knock into one another.
James’s entire body suddenly tenses with a garbled shout, and Robbie repeats the action with a grin, knowing that one or more of the beads is now pressing up against his prostate, before sliding his finger free and taking up the chain once again.
“They’re coming out now,” he warns, and then… then he starts to pull.
B is for Bondage
The ropes aren’t tight, but they are snug, wrapped around James’s long arms and looped around his torso. He breathes slowly, deeply, steadily, as Robbie weaves intricate patterns about his body, work-rough hands settling knots carefully into position and smoothing tangles before they can chafe.
Each pass of the rope feels like a lover’s tender caress, and James can only smile and breathe as Robbie continues his work, marvelling at the look of intense concentration on the older man’s face. The ropes are soft yet strong, the harness already complex and growing more so with each knot, leaving James no choice but to relax into their embrace and allow Robbie to position his body as he wishes.
His upper arms are pinned to his sides, his wrists tied at the small of his back. The harness encircles his chest and shoulders, looping around his waist before slipping down between his thighs and back up along his spine, an extra loop wrapped around his cock and balls. His legs remain free, for now at least, and James rests back on his heels as Robbie works around him and over him.
James is so lost in the soothing and repetitive sensations that it takes him a long moment to realise Robbie has paused, and he blinks up at him in question, suddenly unable to form words.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Robbie whispers, undeniable love shining in his eyes, and James can only sigh as a tender hand strokes down his cheek then further down his chest, brushing over the strands of ropes. “Breathe easy, now.”
James watches through half-lidded eyes as Robbie takes hold of the harness in both hands then tugs, gently yet firmly, and everything just… tightens. And the last of the tension falls away from his body as he surrenders entirely to the ropes.
C is for Collar
Each and every time Robbie glances over at James during the course of the day, the knowledge of exactly what he is hiding under that perfectly ironed shirt and elegantly knotted tie threatens to either make him weak at the knees or give him an embarrassing workplace erection. And James, the smug git, seems to know exactly what effect he’s having, making a show of adjusting his tie or stroking his throat with a tiny smile hovering on his lips.
No one would ever know, that’s how perfectly concealed it is. Even if James were to loosen his top button, Robbie doubts anyone would see so much as a glimpse, which is definitely for the best even if he certainly wouldn’t mind people seeing that James belongs to him. This is something just for Robbie, and for James too, of course. Though probably more for James, if Robbie is being completely honest.
James is the one who suggested this, after all.
They’d tried on at least a dozen different styles, in a tiny and discrete shop, before finally settling on the one James is wearing now. It’s one he’s worn many times before, though Robbie can never predict quite when James will ask to wear it. It’s made of the thinnest and most supple leather, barely a centimetre wide, and lined with brushed suede to avoid chafing. Black had seemed too harsh against James’s pale skin, so Robbie had selected a dark chocolate brown colour, with a contrasting deep red lining, finished with a simple buckle at the back and a tiny pendant which bears Robbie’s initials.
As Robbie watches, lust and want and possession simmering low in his belly, James raises a hand to his neck once again, running a thumb just beneath his shirt collar.
“You okay there, James?” Robbie asks gruffly.
And James glances surreptitiously over his shoulder, as if to check no one is within hearing range, before answering him.
“Yes, Sir.”
D is for Deepthroat
Robbie’s always been more than content with his size. He’s a little bigger than average length, which is certainly nothing to be sniffed at, and he’s thick even when limp, growing to what he personally feels is a pretty impressive girth when aroused.
That’s occasionally made things difficult for James, though, and Robbie has always been careful never to pressure or rush him into anything. If they’re planning for Robbie to penetrate James, he takes his time with prep and is generous with the lube, but the first few times they tried this particular act James had practically choked.
It’s taken time, practise and a lot of patience - training, James had said with a teasing smile - for them to reach this point. For James to be kneeling on a cushion between Robbie’s feet, eyes closed in bliss as he opens his mouth and jaw as wide as he can, relaxing his throat and swallowing Robbie right down to the root until his nose is pressed against the coarse curls at Robbie’s groin.
James’s throat is hot and slick, and tight like a glove around Robbie’s cock as he bobs carefully up and down. Robbie tries to breathe deep and slow, resting his hands on the younger man’s head to guide his movements, as the desire to thrust grows harder to ignore. He wants nothing more than to hold James in place and to come right down his throat, but that isn’t something they’d discussed. He didn’t think they’d get this far tonight.
As if he knows exactly what Robbie is thinking, James suddenly opens his eyes and stares up at him through fluttering eyelashes as he sinks lower once again, taking Robbie as deep as he possibly can before stopping. Permission, and acceptance, and Robbie tightens his grip on James’s hair to tug him down a fraction further, blocking his airway for a few seconds as he abruptly finds his release with a loud shout.
Robbie nearly blacks out with the pleasure as James swallows over and over again, the contractions of his throat milking every last drop from Robbie. He doesn’t black out, of course, at least not quite - he loosens his grip on James, who actually stays in place for another few seconds before pulling up and off with a gasp and a cough, his eyes suspiciously bright.
Before Robbie can find his voice to ask if James is okay, though, the other man licks his lips like the cat who got the cream, and breathes, “Thank you.”
E is for Enema
This is usually a private, almost furtive action. A quick five minutes spent alone in the bathroom, normally in the shower just before they head for bed, making use of the little balloon pump and its attachments. A prelude to an evening’s entertainment, rather than a shared act of intimacy in and of itself.
But surprisingly James feels no embarrassment, even as he curls on his side on the bathroom floor, naked as the day he was born and nestled in a bundle of towels which have been warmed in the dryer. Robbie’s hands are soothing and tender as he stretches James briefly before sliding the tube carefully into place, murmuring soft words of encouragement the whole time, and James just closes his eyes and allows himself to be cared for.
“I’m opening it up, now,” Robbie warns quietly, and in the very next moment James can feel the warm water starting to flood into his lower body. It’s always a strange sensation, though he knows some people draw pleasure from the feeling, but for him the cramping always starts almost immediately and he can’t quite hold back a low grunt. “Breathe, love.”
A large, warm hand rubs soothing circles over his navel as his stomach starts to swell under the relentless pressure, and James pants obediently, trying to ignore the urgent need to empty his bowels of the unwanted fluid. This needs to be done, and it’s always a gift to be the centre of Robbie’s world for a time.
“Can you hold it?” Robbie asks, and James realises he must be full already, the contents of the bag now filling him and working its cleansing magic. He wants it out - in spite of Robbie’s gentle hands, the cramping is almost too much to bear.
He shakes his head, feeling both hot and cold, and a little shivery too. “I don’t think I can… I don’t know, Robbie, I…”
“Okay, James. Here we go then - take a deep breath for me.” With no further warning Robbie carefully pulls the tube from James’s body, immediately sliding something solid into place to fill the emptiness and keep him closed without straining - a plug, one of the smaller ones from their collection. “That should help. Just a couple of minutes more, pet. You’re so good for me.”
And James sighs into the nest of towels, trying to relax and knowing Robbie will take care of him, as he always does.
F is for Fisting
Four fingers deep already, twisting and turning his hand against silken smooth inner walls, and Robbie marvels at the way he can feel James’s pulse rippling through him with every motion. He pauses, tucks his thumb in close to his palm, and takes a deep, steadying breath.
“Bear down for me, pet,” he whispers, and he starts to push.
James groans deep in his chest, and for a moment there is too much resistance, muscles clenching painfully tight around the widest point of Robbie’s hand, until suddenly, suddenly…
Dear god, he’s in, all the way up to his wrist and even beyond. Robbie’s mouth is agape and he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his hand disappearing deep inside James’s willing body. The heat and the pressure is immense, and he holds as still as he can to allow James some time to adjust, if adjustment is even possible. He can’t even imagine what James must be feeling, stretched open as wide as he’s ever been.
“Okay?” he asks breathlessly, and after a pause James manages to flap one hand on the mattress in a gesture that could mean nearly anything. “James, talk to me, please. Use your words.”
A garbled noise escapes James’s throat, before he manages to gasp, “Fine. ‘S fine. So full…”
Carefully, slowly, Robbie curls his fingers into a fist, clenching tight to stretch James even wider, and a broken sob slips from James’s lips, the muscles of his anus fluttering helplessly around Robbie’s wrist as he starts to push deeper still. He’d half-expected James to be a bundle of tension at this moment, but instead the other man has fallen completely limp and pliant, his long body flushed with heat and his skin prickled with goose-bumps.
Another inch deeper, and Robbie twists his wrist first in one direction, then back in the other. He pulls back slowly until he is nearly all the way out, then pushes in again, starting up a steady rhythm which soon sees James breathing in time with his actions. In and out, slow and deep. And time seems to melt away around them.
G is for Gags
James is surprised to learn how much he enjoys being made to simply stop talking. He is more than aware of his reputation as the man who always has the perfect quote for every occasion, and he also knows he has a tendency to slip into what Robbie has always teasingly referred to as ‘lecture-mode’ when talking about a topic that fascinates him.
He’s never been particularly noisy in the bedroom, though, apart from the occasional moan and gasp, and from the very beginning Robbie has seemed to take great pleasure in wringing the occasional scream of pleasure from his lips, usually when James is least expecting it.
So the first time Robbie slips a gag around his head, James is surprised by his own response. He can’t beg, can’t scream, can barely gasp, and somehow it is one of the most liberating feelings he’s ever experienced. It’s a simple silk scarf the first time, clearly improvised, then a soft leather band the next night, as Robbie picks up on James’s interest.
James isn’t a particular fan of the penis-shaped gag, though he’ll tolerate it when Robbie asks as he does adore the moments when Robbie pushes him to his knees and gags him with his thick, hard cock. He doesn’t much like the bit gag either, as it chafes at his lips and makes him drool uncontrollably, and he’d safe-worded for the first time ever when Robbie had shown him the spider gag. He still doesn’t know why he’d reacted so strongly, but Robbie’s reassurances had meant the whole world to him, and they’d thrown it straight in the bin that very night.
But the ball gag is somehow absolutely perfect, straining James’s lips just enough to keep him focussed yet keeping his mouth so comfortably full that he can barely make any sound at all. And the freedom to simply be silent is one of the greatest gifts Robbie has ever given him.
H is for High heels
He still feels more than a little self-conscious wearing them, though he does love the way Robbie reacts when he sees them, and they are far more comfortable than he would ever have expected. He keeps them safely packed away in their box, wrapped lovingly in soft tissue paper, until one of the rare nights when he is home first and in the right mood, waiting for his partner to arrive.
Tonight, James changes quickly out of his sombre black suit into a pair of skin-tight jeans and a soft t-shirt before reaching into the depths of their wardrobe. The box is right where it should be, and he carries it over to the bed to place it down reverently before opening it, slowly, carefully. And there they are, waiting for him.
Simple, classic. Black. Beautiful.
He slides on the right one first, then the left, taking a moment to adjust to the way they force his feet to bend before he stands up, careful not to knock his head on the lightshade. Too tall, he thinks with a brief grimace, shifting his hips and settling his weight in place as he stretches to his glorious new height. He’ll have to duck when he walks through the door - he learned that lesson the hard way - but he knows it’ll all be worth it.
He’s waiting in the kitchen when he finally hears Robbie’s car outside the flat, and he can’t hide his smile of anticipation as he positions himself carefully by the sink, his back to the door and his legs hip-width apart. This isn’t entirely for Robbie, after all, not by any means.
A key turning in the front door, then Robbie’s footsteps in the hallway. A pause and a rustle as he hangs up his coat, a dull thud as he kicks off his shoes, and James feels his heart start to beat a little faster. More footsteps, another pause, then Robbie calls out, “James? You home, love?”
“In the kitchen,” he calls back, squaring his shoulders and waiting, waiting, waiting -
“Oh, hello, there!” Robbie immediately sounds breathless, and James slides his right foot out a fraction, cocking his hip and relishing the moan of desire he hears behind him as the muscles in his ass tense.
In a matter of seconds, Robbie is kneeling on the cold kitchen tiles by James’s side, open-mouthed with obvious lust and both hands hovering over one shoe, clearly not quite daring to touch yet as he stares at the extended length of James’s legs. He moans again, eyes shining brightly, and James feels a stab of longing deep in his own belly.
It’s going to be a bloody good night, James can tell.
I is for Intercrural
Robbie knows James must be sore, despite his protests to the contrary. They’ve been particularly enthusiastic in the bedroom over the previous few nights, and the last thing he ever wants is to cause James any permanent damage, or more pain than either of them can bear. Those particular overused muscles will need a few days off in order to recover properly.
So tonight, Robbie thinks they’ll try something a little different.
“Lie on your side, pet,” he murmurs, coaxing a slightly confused but entirely willing James into position on the bed, and making sure he keeps his legs together rather than tilting one forwards for balance. “There. That’s perfect.”
He slicks up both hands before sliding them between James’s thighs, marvelling once again at the power he can feel in the muscles of those rower’s legs as James tenses briefly in surprise before relaxing into Robbie’s touch. Working swiftly but thoroughly, he uses the remaining lube to slick his aching erection, then lies down behind James, as close as he can get.
“Mmm, Robert…” James has clearly figured out exactly what the plan is, and he sighs happily when Robbie slides closer to wrap one arm around James’s chest and slips the other beneath the pillow to support his head, spooning their bodies up together.
With a firm yet careful push, Robbie slides his cock between those solid thighs, nudging the back of James’s balls as he does so, and they both groan in unison. “Squeeze down, James, like… Oh, just like that, man.”
Robbie starts to thrust, keeping his movements gentle at first, though he swiftly starts to lose control as the tightness combined with the easy glide threaten to overwhelm him far too quickly. The heat and sweat start to build between their bodies, and he can feel James trembling in his arms already. This won’t last long for either of them.
He reaches round and down to take James in hand, finding him rock hard and leaking steadily. “Don’t hold back, love,” he grunts, speeding up his thrusts as he feels his release building rapidly. “Come for me.”
After another two thrusts, James shudders apart in his arms with a low shout of delight, his legs clamping together so tightly around Robbie’s cock that he practically sees stars. And Robbie manages another thrust before those stars explode.
J is for Jewellery
“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting when you said you’d bought me a ring,” James whines, already fighting the urge to writhe around on the bed though Robbie has only just slipped the little piece of rubber around his cock and balls.
Rather than continuing on with their evening’s play, Robbie suddenly sits back on his heels, perched as he is between James’s spread thighs, and glances up at him nervously. “James, love, I…”
“Oh, Robbie, no. I didn’t mean that.”
James suddenly feels terribly guilty, tugging at his hands in an attempt to sit up and reassure his partner. He can feel his erection already starting to flag, though the cuffs keeping his wrists pinned to the bedframe above his head don’t allow him even an inch of leeway. They don’t often use handcuffs, not with the jobs they do, but tonight of all nights…
Robbie leans closer, bracing himself over James’s naked body with one hand pressed to the mattress, and kisses him very softly. “I didn’t know that was something you wanted,” he says quietly, and James shakes his head immediately.
“It’s not, I promise.” And it really isn’t; it was a poor attempt at a joke, one James really should have thought through properly before opening his mouth. It’s Robbie’s fault really, getting him so turned on he can barely think straight, then locking this tiny instrument of torture around his genitals. He cranes his neck upwards, begging silently for another kiss, and Robbie stares into his eyes for a long moment before smiling softly and giving him what they both want.
The kiss quickly grows hot and heavy, then James practically bucks off the bed as Robbie’s free hand wraps around his cock, stroking him rapidly back to full hardness. His orgasm starts to coil tight in his belly, but the pressure and presence of the ring tells him he won’t be allowed release any time soon, and he whines again, low in his throat.
“This might not have a diamond,” Robbie starts softly, that teasing glint back in his bright blue eyes and James knows it’s all forgiven and forgotten. “But it does do this.”
James can feel Robbie’s strong fingers doing something to the rubber around his balls, and he opens his mouth to ask what his partner means, but then the sudden vibrations rippling through his lower body wipe every remaining coherent thought from his mind.
K is for Knifeplay
It had sounded like such a good idea when they’d discussed it a week ago, but now James finds he isn’t actually quite so certain after all. He’s tied to the bed, soft yet strong silk ropes keeping him in position on his back, his legs spread wide and his cock already straining as Robbie stands at the foot of the bed, watching him.
He trusts Robbie more than he trusts himself, but still, this sort of role play is something very new.
He swallows hard as Robbie slowly lifts the knife he holds in his right hand, the blade glinting brightly as it catches the light. Robbie wears jeans and a shirt, while James is dressed only in an old, loose pair of boxers and a faded t-shirt - the plan is for Robbie to cut the garments from his body, then hold the knife against his skin as if -
“Aristotle,” he gasps, feeling his chest grow suddenly tight as his heart starts to race, and immediately Robbie puts the knife down on the dresser behind him before moving swiftly to undo the knots tying James in place.
“Okay, James, love. It’s over. All over. I’ve got you, just breathe for me.”
In a matter of seconds James is free, and he curls into a tight ball on his side as Robbie drapes a warm blanket over him, one hand stroking his head and the other rubbing gentle circles at the base of his spine.
“I’m okay,” he tells Robbie as soon as he can, and he really is, his heartrate already settling and his breathing easier. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened…”
“Don’t ever apologise, James. To be honest, if you hadn’t used your safe word, I might’ve used mine.” Robbie sounds sincere, and James shuffles forwards until he is pressing his forehead against his partner’s strong thigh, both seeking and giving reassurance.
“Let’s not try that again,” he whispers, and Robbie tucks the blanket tighter still around his body.
“Agreed.”
L is for Lingerie
One by one, slowly and steadily, Robbie tugs the laces tighter then tighter still, feeling increasingly breathless himself even as James pants softly to draw in as much oxygen as he can around the black silk steadily compressing his waist and ribcage.
“Beautiful,” he whispers with another firm tug, and James’s head falls backwards with a gasp, baring his long, pale neck. Robbie holds the laces in one hand, running the other hand around James’s narrowed waist, feeling the smooth silk and the strain of the steel boning. So incredibly beautiful.
James is always slender, of course, but the corset draws his manly frame into an hourglass shape, his hips and buttocks pushed down and out as his chest is forced high, and at the moment his waist is so slim that Robbie feels he could enclose it entirely by wrapping his two hands around it. And with each tightening of the laces, that tiny waist grows narrower still.
Robbie pauses for a long moment, listening to James take tiny little sips of air, imagining how tight his chest must feel, and how his ribs and diaphragm must be struggling to find the room to expand. The power Robbie holds in his hands is tangible; with one firm tug on the laces he could almost stop James from breathing entirely, though James trusts him to know when to stop, and Robbie won’t push him further than he can bear. Not this time, at least.
He strokes his hand up the straining silk and over James’s chest, admiring the way the corset forces James’s pectoral muscles to swell into something resembling a woman’s breasts. Then he strokes his hand back down, palm flat, until he can feel the hard length of James’s erection, trapped in his tight silk panties and begging for attention.
“So beautiful,” he whispers with a smile, adding, “Once more, just for me?”
And Robbie waits for James’s desperate nod before drawing the laces tighter still.
M is for Massage
It’s a beautifully vulnerable position, and Robbie can’t help but marvel at the way James submits to him so willingly, without even the assistance of restraints on this occasion. James is on his knees on their bed with his chest pressed low to the mattress and fisted hands resting by his head, and the position leaves his pale backside raised and open to whatever action Robbie chooses.
And Robbie has chosen to play with his lover. Just a little bit.
“Like this or not at all,” he whispers, not for the first time, as he keeps one hand rubbing gentle circles over James’s lower back; all the while, two fingers on his other hand are working deep inside that vulnerable opening, teasing and stroking and stretching.
James groans, low and needy, as Robbie’s searching fingers brush again and again over that little bundle of nerves, rubbing and pressing before sliding away, never quite giving James what he truly needs. They’ve been playing for quite some time, now, and all the fine muscles in James’s back and legs are quivering with the effort of holding himself still. James’s cock and balls hang heavy and exposed between his legs, a steady stream of clear liquid dripping down to soak into the mattress; Robbie suspects James is far beyond words at this point.
“You’re being so good for me, love.” Robbie is struggling with the desire to throw caution to the wind and simply fuck into James hard and fast, but - “Just like this, James. You can come just like this, any time now. Come for me.”
The time for teasing has passed. He finds James’s prostate yet again, his fingers drawn almost unerringly to that walnut-shaped hotspot, and starts up a rhythmic and rapid massage. Beneath him, James chokes on what could be a sob as Robbie keeps going, harder and faster, until suddenly his entire body locks up in orgasm and the muscles in his ass clamp down like a vice around Robbie’s fingers.
Experimental Part Two (N-Z)