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Green Means Go

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Riley was waiting on the sidewalk outside Harvard Yard when Andres’ car pulled up. Andres started to get out, but Riley waved him off and opened the passenger-side door himself.

“Hey,” he said as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Hey, yourself. You look great.”

Riley had been sure he’d been building Andres up in his head; nobody could be that handsome. If anything, though, Andres looked better than Riley remembered – clean-shaven and smiling, dressed in a casual button-down and jeans. A simple silver cross hung around his neck.

“You, too,” Riley said, after an inappropriately long pause.

Andres pulled away from the curb and headed back towards Boston. “So, what are you in the mood for? I grew up in the city, so whatever you want, I probably know where to find it.”

“Anything not too fancy is good.”

“No preferences?” Andres looked over with raised eyebrows. “I’m up for whatever.”

Doms tended to assume that Riley’s sexual submissiveness carried over into other aspects of his life, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Riley usually let it go, because driving the point home was more trouble than it was worth. Yet here Andres was, offering him the lead right off the bat.

“I could go for something spicy,” he said.

Andres hummed. “How about tapas? There’s a great place near my apartment; they have a whole section of their menu dedicated to the spicy ones.”


They passed the drive with pleasant small talk, Andres asking about Riley’s classes and sharing anecdotes from his patrols earlier that week. He parked down the street from the restaurant, and they walked the rest of the way. Unfazed by the large crowd waiting outside, Andres took gentle hold of Riley’s elbow and ushered him through the throng, murmuring apologies to the people they pushed past.

The hostess’ eyes lit up when she saw Andres. He embraced her, speaking in cheerful Spanish, and he and Riley were seated not five minutes later.

“Wow, I guess it does pay to have connections in Boston,” Riley said.

Andres laughed. “That’s what this city was built on.”

Riley experienced a brief moment of embarrassment when he had to order sparkling water instead of anything alcoholic, but not only did Andres let it go without comment, he ordered just iced tea for himself. They chose a selection of the restaurant’s spicier tapas to share, then settled back into their chairs as the server removed the menus.

“Before we start,” Andres said, “I have to ask you a question, and I apologize in advance if it offends you.”

“Go ahead.”

“You’re only eighteen. How much experience do you really have with BDSM?”

“Okay, let’s get this all out of the way.” Understanding what Andres was truly asking, Riley straightened up. “I get it. If we're going to scene together, you need to know if there’s any kind of sexual trauma in my past, anything that might trigger me.”

Andres nodded.

“There isn’t.” Riley maintained eye contact as he spoke. “I’ve been scening since I was sixteen, and I’ve never done anything that wasn’t one hundred percent consensual on all sides. The age of consent in D.C. is sixteen, just like it is here. I know a lot of people would have a problem with it anyway, but I don’t believe I’ve ever been taken advantage of. I hope you can respect my perspective on my own experiences.”

“I can. I’m not gonna lie, the idea of someone getting into BDSM that young makes me uncomfortable. But you’re a legal adult now, and if you don’t have any triggers that might affect the two of us, then none of that is any of my business.”

“Thanks.” Riley sipped his water, appreciating Andres' response.

“You’re welcome.” Andres tapped the table with both hands, signaling the matter closed. “So, basic stuff. I identify as a Dominant gay male. I don’t scene with women – although I don’t mind watching, if it’s a performance – I don’t sub, and I don’t bottom. That goes for toys, fingers, rimming, all of that. I have a hard limit against anything going in my ass. Will that be a problem for you?”

“No. I’ve actually never topped, never wanted to. I mean, I’ve eaten guys out and fingered them during blowjobs and stuff, but that was always for them, not me.”


Andres looked about to say something more, but he went silent as their server approached with a couple of the smaller appetizer-type tapas they’d ordered: marinated olives and pan con tomate. He didn’t speak again until the server was safely out of earshot.

“What about switching Dom/sub roles?” he asked. “Have you ever tried Domming?”

“No. Why, have you tried subbing?” Riley popped an olive into his mouth, savoring the mix of spicy and citrus flavors in the marinade.

“A few times, when I first started.” Andres dropped a couple of pieces of toasted bread onto his plate. “Mostly because I wanted to see what it was like from the other side. I can’t say I enjoyed it, but I do think it made me a better Dom.”

After thinking it over while he chewed and swallowed, Riley said, “I don’t think I could get what I need from Dominating someone.”

“What’s that? Stress relief?”

“Not at all. I love stress. I thrive on it. The more pressure I’m under, the more in control I feel and the better I perform.”

“Uh-oh. You're one of those classic Harvard overachievers, aren't you?”

Andres' tone was light and teasing, his eyes crinkled with a warm smile, so Riley didn’t take offense. “Yeah. It’s when the stress is over that I have a problem. I guess the best way to describe it is that I – I have trouble coming down from the stress high. I get all scattered and unfocused and I feel…” He toyed with a crust of bread. “Unmoored.”

“And being Dominated – that centers you again?” Andres studied Riley with his head tilted to the side.

“Pretty much.”

“Mmm.” Nodding, Andres wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I can work with that.”

“What about you?” Riley asked. “Is stress relief what you get out of this?”

“Partially, yeah. But I like the feeling of taking care of a sub, learning what he needs and giving it to him, helping him reach whatever he’s working towards.” Andres smiled across the table. “And if what he needs is to fall apart safely so he can put himself back together again, that’s what I’ll give him.”

Riley lowered his gaze, heat pooling in his belly. Their server cleared their plates and brought Andres a fresh iced tea, into which Andres promptly dumped three packets of sugar.

“You like to be humiliated,” Andres said, breaking the short silence. “The way you responded last week – ”

“It’s one of my biggest kinks. But I do have limits.”

Stirring his tea, Andres gestured for Riley to continue.

“It has to be erotic humiliation. Nothing about my intelligence or worth as a person or anything like that. I don’t want to be called stupid or trash, or made to feel bad about myself. Those are really hard limits for me.”

“Understood.” Andres withdrew his spoon from the glass and squeezed a lemon wedge into it. “What about slut-shaming? Like I did in the club.”

Riley breathed out slowly. “Yes. A whole lot of yes to that.”

“And the feminization?”

Over the past week, whenever Riley had thought about Andres, his memory had returned again and again to how Andres had called his hole a pussy – how hot it had gotten him, how much more desperate to be fucked. “I don’t have a lot of experience with that,” he said. “I’ve only been with a few guys who were into it. I’ve always liked it, but I’ve never felt comfortable asking someone to do it. I guess I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea? I mean, I identify as male. It’s just those words... They make me feel sexier, somehow. Sluttier. Like I can’t get enough.”

Andres stared at him, his mouth half-parted, fingers tight around his glass. Riley cast a belated glance to their surroundings, but the room was noisy with laughter and conversation, and nobody at the neighboring tables was paying the slightest attention to them.

He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t want to take the feminization any further than that, though. You know, in case you’re into that kind of stuff.”

“I am.” Andres relaxed his hand. “But I don’t do it often. It’s not a dealbreaker for me.”

“Speaking of… It seems like we’ve been doing a lot of talking about my kinks.”

“Fair enough.” Leaning forward, Andres put both elbows on the table and propped his chin on his hands. His eyes were intent on Riley’s face. “I like to throw my subs around a little. Rough them up, bully them. Hold them down and make them take it. How do you feel about that?”

Oh, God. Riley wet his lips. “I feel like I’m really glad I have my napkin on my lap,” he said, and grinned.

Andres laughed. The mounting sexual tension was broken by the timely arrival of their food: platters of grilled shrimp with chilies, spicy beef empanadas, and curried mussels. Eating kept the conversation light while they discussed their other interests and boundaries.

They both had limits against the more hardcore end of the spectrum – electricity, watersports, super-heavy bondage. Andres was more into impact play than Riley was, but he accepted Riley’s boundaries without hesitation. For the most part, their desires meshed quite well, and the few places where they didn’t line up could be easily worked around.

“I have another hard limit we haven’t talked about,” Andres said as they were finishing the last few bites of their tapas. “I don’t know that it would ever come up, but I like to be upfront about it from the beginning just in case. I can’t do any kind of breathplay. When I was a kid, I got caught in a riptide at Cape Cod and almost drowned; breath control is really triggery for me, even if it’s happening to someone else.”

Riley winced in sympathy. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was. I couldn’t swim for years afterwards. I still get nervous around the ocean sometimes.”

“Safewords,” Riley said, prompted by the talk of fears and triggers. “We haven’t… I like to use the stoplight system, if that’s okay with you.”

Green for keep going, yellow for slow down and discuss, red for stop immediately?”


“Sounds good.” Andres reached across the table to swipe his thumb against the corner of Riley’s mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he licked the spot of red curry off his thumb. “You want dessert?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Riley shook his head, skin tingling where Andres had touched him.

Andres flagged down their server and asked for the check. While they waited, he said, “One more thing. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Blinking, Riley didn’t answer right away, certain he’d misunderstood. Andres had been perfectly normal all evening; there was no way he was suggesting tattooing a casual fuck he’d just met –

“On me,” Andres said, snorting out a laugh. “I have tattoos. It’s a turn-off for some guys.”

Oh.” Riley shed the minor embarrassment, his interest piqued. He ran his eyes over Andres’ large body, most of which was concealed by clothing. “I guess it depends on what they look like. Where are they?”

“My back and upper arms. Here.” Andres unbuttoned his right cuff and rolled up his sleeve, baring his bicep, then rested his forearm and elbow on the table so Riley could get a good look at the outside of his arm.

Though momentarily distracted by the sheer size of Andres’ muscles, Riley dragged his focus to the tattoo. It was beautiful, elaborate work: a shield divided into thirds, containing a palm tree rising from mountains, a series of diagonal blue and white stripes, and a sun rising over the horizon of the ocean above a gold key. Branches framed it on either side, and the shield itself was topped by a jaunty red hat.

Riley brushed his fingers over the ink. “Is this a coat of arms?”

“Cuba’s, yeah.”

Andres’ skin was warm and smooth, his bicep hard as granite even though he wasn’t flexing. “Is that where your family is from?”

“Mm-hmm. I was born here, but my parents came over when my brother and sisters were little kids.”

They both startled at a soft cough from the side of their table. Giving them a small, knowing smile, their server set the check down. “I’ll take that whenever you’re ready, guys.”

Andres reached for the check, but Riley got there first. “I’d like to split it.”

“Sure,” said Andres. Just like that, no arguments.

On the walk to Andres’ car, a cozy sense of well-being settled over Riley like a blanket. Breathing in the crisp autumnal air, his belly full of a delicious meal, he glanced at Andres. He was about to have kinky sex with this insanely hot guy. As good as it had been in the club, how much better would it be in private, with all the time in the world?

“So, you know something about my family,” Andres said. “Tell me something about yours.”

“I’m an only child.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d figured that out for myself.”

Riley chuckled, his breath creating a cloud of steam. “Oh God, is it that obvious?”

“Yep.” Andres bumped his hip companionably against Riley’s side.

“Okay. Uh… my parents are both doctors. Actually, every adult I’m biologically related to is a doctor, except for my dad’s mom. And she was a nurse.”

“Let me guess.” They stopped beside Andres’ car, but instead of opening the door, Andres put both hands on Riley’s hips and tugged him close. “You want to be a doctor, too.”

“Well, yeah. But it’s not what you’re thinking.” Riley smoothed his hands up Andres’ chest to his broad shoulders. “Nobody’s pressuring me. It’s what I want; it’s what I’ve always wanted, ever since I was a little kid. I’ve worked towards it my whole life.”

“And you always get what you want, don’t you, sweetheart?” Andres wasn’t taunting. He rubbed Riley’s hipbones with both thumbs, his dark eyes intense.

Riley looked up at him through his lashes. “So far.”

Andres shoved Riley against the car, swallowing Riley's squeak of surprise with a kiss. He pinned Riley in place, one massive thigh pressed between Riley’s legs, and kissed the everloving fuck out of him right there on the sidewalk. Riley clung to him, letting Andres’ tongue thrust into his mouth, hips jerking against Andres’ leg. When Andres pulled back, he whined his protest.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, you beautiful little brat,” Andres said into his ear. “Get in the car.”

Andres did indeed live close to the restaurant, less than a five-minute drive. He parked on the street again, and they got out in front of a row of renovated brownstones.

“Which neighborhood is this?” Riley asked, looking around. He’d researched Boston thoroughly before moving to Harvard, and he’d explored the city during freshman orientation, but six weeks wasn’t enough for him to identify individual neighborhoods by sight.

“The South End. I’m in this one over here.”

Andres’ apartment was a third-floor walkup; he unlocked the door and let Riley in first. Most of the original architectural details had been preserved or restored, including the high ceilings, hardwood floors, and exposed brick walls. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a couple of big open rooms with a hallway off to the left, but the back windows looked over a park and everything in sight was spotlessly clean.

“Is your roommate a cop, too?” Riley noted the comfortable yet utilitarian furniture – no points for guessing that two guys lived here.

“Yeah, but we’re in different districts. I’m over in East Boston – that’s where I grew up, actually – and he’s got Jamaica Plain.” Andres hung his keys on a hook beside the door. “You want something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure. It’s through my bedroom, first door down the hall.”

Riley followed Andres' pointing finger through a half-open door. Unlike the rest of the apartment, Andres’ bedroom was a mess – not dirty, but cluttered and disorganized. The sheets were rumpled on the unmade bed, clothing had been tossed carelessly on the floor rather than into the hamper, and junk mail littered the surface of the dresser. The only neat spot in the room was a small wooden table in one corner, polished and dust-free, which held two glass pillar candles and a carved wooden rosary.

Curious, Riley took a closer look. They were the kind of saint candles that Catholics used, one dedicated to La Virgen Maria and the other, bearing a picture of an angel standing astride a demon and holding a sword aloft, to San Miguel. Both had been burned down halfway.

He left the candles alone and continued to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he drew a few deep, measured breaths, settling his anticipation until he felt less like a kid about to go to Disney World for the first time. He ran his fingers through his hair, helped himself to the Listerine on the counter, and gave himself a final onceover before returning to the main room of the apartment.

Andres was leaning against the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, sipping a bottle of water, his posture as easy and relaxed as a person could get without slouching. “Do you need anything before we get started? Have any questions?”

“What do you want me to call you?”

“My name is fine, but you can use ‘sir’ if you need something more formal. Don’t call me ‘Master’, please.”

“Okay. You’re sure your roommate won’t come home?”

“Positive.” Andres screwed the cap back on his water bottle, set it down, and straightened up – and every single detail of his body language changed. He was no longer the easygoing, affable guy who’d split the check with Riley; this man was pure Dom, spine straight and shoulders square, filling the entire room with the physicality of his presence.

Riley breathed out, all of his attention zeroing in on Andres as he approached.

“Let’s get these clothes off you so I can see what I’m getting.” Andres' voice was firm with command, though nowhere near harsh.

Immediately, Riley’s hands went to the hem of his sweater, but Andres caught his wrists and brought his arms back to his sides.

“I want you to stand still and let me undress you. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”

“Yes,” Riley said, and then, because he couldn’t help himself, because he needed to say it… “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Cupping Riley’s face with both of his big hands, Andres bent to kiss him – not roughly, as he had by the car, but slow and sweet, exploring Riley’s mouth with his tongue and lips. Riley left his arms hanging by his sides and tilted his head back, surrendering.

Andres broke the kiss after a minute or so, caressed Riley’s lower lip with his thumb, and stripped off Riley's sweater and T-shirt as one. He dropped them to the floor and took his time examining Riley’s body.

Riley held still for the inspection, unashamed. He didn’t have the frame for bulk like Andres’, but he ran and lifted weights most days of the week, and it showed in the definition of his lean muscles. When Andres’ hands rested on his waist, he sighed in contentment.

“You’re gorgeous.” Andres ran his hands up and down Riley’s sides, then squeezed Riley's waist once more. “God, I could just pick you up and throw you right over my shoulder, no problem at all.”

Riley’s eyes had been drifting shut, but they jerked open at that as he sucked in a breath.

“You like that?” Andres smiled. His hands moved to Riley’s chest, teasing Riley's nipples until they stood straight out. “You like how much bigger I am than you, baby? How much stronger?”

“Yes, sir.” Frustrated by the light touch, Riley pushed his chest into Andres’ hands, wanting him to pinch or twist or something

Andres let go of Riley altogether and knelt at Riley's feet to remove his shoes and socks. Riley almost protested, thrown by the sight of a Dom on his knees, but he’d been told to stand still and take it.                                                                                  

When Riley was barefoot, Andres undid his jeans, reaching inside to fondle Riley’s erection through his boxer-briefs. Riley didn’t even try to hold back his heartfelt moan.

“Yeah, you’re ready to go,” Andres said. “Is that all it takes? A guy gets half your clothes off and plays with your nipples a little, and you’re already eager to bend over?”

Riley shivered, though the room was warm. “Please, I want to.”

“Want to what?” Andres pulled Riley’s jeans and underwear down and helped him step out of them.

“Want to bend over.” The words spilled forth as Andres rose to his full height. Riley didn’t grab at him, but it was a near thing. “Please, I want you to fuck me, I need it inside – ”

“Stop talking,” Andres said gently.

Riley’s mouth clicked shut.

“I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about that.” Andres cradled Riley’s hips with his hands, then slid them down to palm Riley's ass. “But you have to be patient, because I’m not the type to rush when we’ve got all night.”

He massaged Riley’s ass, kneading the flesh, spreading Riley's cheeks apart and pushing them back together. Riley’s hole ached, precome welling from the head of his cock. His knees were going to give out any second –

“Hold onto me,” said Andres.

Riley’s hands shot up to clutch Andres’ shoulders, grounding himself against those solid muscles.

Andres squeezed harder. “Your ass is fucking insane. How much work do you put into this thing?”

“A lot.” Riley canted his hips so Andres could get a better grip. His ass was by far his best physical feature, and he expended a good deal of effort and energy on making sure it stayed that way. He wanted men to stare, grab at him, slap his ass when he walked by. He wanted men to fantasize about fucking him when they looked at him.

“It’s worth it.” Andres’ fingers dipped between Riley’s cheeks, rubbing back and forth over his hole.

Groaning, Riley shifted his legs wider and lifted his head for a kiss. Andres obliged him at once, slowly driving Riley insane as he played all around the rim of Riley's hole and down to his perineum. Riley pushed himself onto his toes to get his arms around Andres’ neck.

Giving Riley’s perineum one more firm rub, Andres returned his hands to Riley’s hips. “How flexible are you?”

“Uh…” Dazed from the kiss, Riley shook his head. “Pretty flexible, why?”

“If you bent over like this, would you be able to rest your hands on the floor?”


Andres steadied Riley on his feet, then let go and stepped back. “Show me.”

Riley flushed, the reaction impossible to conceal on his golden skin. With his feet a bit more than shoulder’s-width apart, he bent over and placed his palms flat on the floor. The position caused him no strain, though he wouldn’t have been able to bend any further.

Very nice.” Andres walked around Riley in a slow circle. “Lift that ass up a little higher.”

Oh, God. Fingernails scritching against the hardwood, Riley obeyed, his cock jerking with the sweet humiliation of the display he was making. His hole flexed, needing to be filled.

Andres laughed and gave Riley's hole a condescending pat with two fingers. “How long could you hold this position before it got too uncomfortable?”

The practical question provided something to focus on besides the submissive haze subsuming Riley's brain. “Ten minutes, maybe?”

“All right. Stand up.”

Although Riley was confused – was ten minutes not long enough for whatever Andres had wanted? – he pushed himself back upright. His eyes tracked Andres, watching as Andres sat on the battered brown couch in the living room with his knees casually sprawled apart.

Andres crooked his fingers. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Riley was quick to comply, hoping that this was going to lead to Andres’ cock shoved down his throat, but Andres pulled Riley to stand between his knees and smoothed his hands over Riley’s thighs. He tapped Riley’s swollen cock, making it bounce; Riley hissed through his teeth. If Andres jerked him off right now, he’d pop in two minutes flat. Probably less.

“Turn around,” Andres said.

A blowjob wasn’t on the menu, then. Riley put his back to Andres and gasped when Andres’ hand cracked hard against his right asscheek.

“Spread your legs wider.”

Riley got his feet as far apart as he could without unbalancing, then pushed his ass back, silently begging for another smack. Andres gave it to him, on the left side this time, with enough force that he cried out in pleasure.

“Now bend over for me, just like you did before."

Riley froze, save for his harsh, panting breaths. If he did that… he’d be spread open, his ass right in Andres’ face with his hole completely exposed. He’d be vulnerable to anything Andres wanted to do to him, fuck, he’d look like such a whore –

Andres squeezed his hip. “Color?”

“Green, green,” he said quickly, folding forward.

“Mmm.” Andres pried Riley’s cheeks even further apart. “There’s nothing I love more than a twink with a pretty shaved pussy.”

“I wax,” said Riley, because he had to say something or his brain was going to leak out of his ears.

Andres chuckled. “Even better,” he said, and spit on Riley’s bared hole.

“Oh, God,” Riley muttered to the floor. He closed his eyes, his face and neck burning hot.

“Arch your back.” Andres rubbed his spit into Riley’s hole with his thumb, pressing down on the small of Riley’s back even as he gave the order. “Flaunt that ass for me, baby. I know how much you want a man to pay some attention to this needy pussy.”

Riley shoved his ass up in the air, spine curving in as exaggerated an arch as his body allowed. His cock was dripping a steady stream of precome onto the floor – something that had never happened to him before in his life.

“Good boy.” Andres’ breath gusted over Riley's hole, warm and wet, and then his lips pressed against the sensitive skin. After a few lazy open-mouthed kisses, he dragged his tongue from Riley’s perineum to his hole, lapping at it with broad strokes.

“Please.” Each of Riley's exhalations came out a moan. “Oh, please, please – ”

Without pausing his exploration, Andres tapped the base of Riley’s spine, reminding him to stay in position. Riley corrected his posture and choked on a gasp as the tip of Andres’ tongue wriggled inside him.

Andres hadn’t exaggerated in his text – he did love eating a guy out. It was clear in every eager thrust of his tongue and each sloppy kiss, the hungry grunts that were muffled by Riley’s ass, the way his fingers dug into Riley’s hips to hold him in place. They were going to leave bruises.

Riley squirmed back against Andres’ face as much as he could, striving to maintain the slutty pose he’d been placed in. His hole had gone sleek and soft, desperate for the slick press of Andres’ tongue; his ears rang with the blood rushing to his head. Andres had set him up just the way he wanted him, like a doll, and all Riley could do was take it.

Riley wasn’t descending into subspace so much as he was plummeting, a total free-fall with no handholds along the way. As much as he loved what Andres was doing to him, as badly as he yearned for the clear-minded bliss of subspace, this was too fast, too much too soon. But he couldn’t stop it. He was going under all at once and he couldn’t stop

“Yellow,” he gasped.

Andres lifted his head immediately, strong hands helping Riley stand up. Riley swayed under the sudden headrush.

“What’s wrong?” Andres asked.

“Going down too fast,” said Riley, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Here, come sit on my lap.”

On the scale of things likely to halt Riley’s nosedive into subspace, sitting naked and vulnerable on the lap of a much larger, fully clothed man ranked about the same as being restrained by a spreader bar. Yet once Andres had Riley settled on his lap, back-to-chest with Riley's legs draped on either side of his own, all Andres did was cuddle him, stroking Riley’s arms and chest while kissing the side of his face. Riley sighed and relaxed, tipping his head back onto Andres’ shoulder.

“You’re being such a good boy for me.” One of Andres' hands caressed Riley’s stomach in slow circles. “Even sweeter than I’d thought you’d be.”

Riley inclined his head to the side, inviting Andres to kiss his neck. “You thought about this?”

“Hell, yeah, I thought about it. Jerked off a few times imagining all the things I wanted to do to you.”

Steadier now, Riley evened out, feeling like he was sliding into a warm bath rather than cartwheeling down a hill. He turned his head to kiss Andres, unbothered by where Andres' mouth had been minutes earlier.

Andres’ hands skated up Riley’s chest and toyed with his nipples, pinching them, tugging them forward until they ached. Riley groaned into Andres’ mouth.

“How we doing?” asked Andres.


Though Riley’s cock still stood proud between his legs, his balls throbbing with frustration, Andres bypassed both in favor of seeking Riley’s hole with his fingers again. Sprawled bonelessly over Andres’ lap and chest, Riley lifted his legs and set his heels at the edge of the couch cushion.

“Please,” he said.

“Please what?"

Yeah, Andres was definitely the kind of Dom who got off on a begging sub. “Please put something inside me, sir,” Riley said, even though he knew Andres wouldn’t, not like this. Riley had made it clear during dinner that nothing was going in his ass without lube, and saliva was not an acceptable substitute.

“Something inside you, hmm? Like my fingers?”

Riley nodded, biting his lip as he watched Andres’ hands move on him, fingertips tracing maddening circles around the rim of his hole. Andres’ jeans were rough against his bare thighs, that cock a heavy, promising bulge beneath his ass.

Andres’ tongue flicked his earlobe. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“Finger me. Please.”

“Finger you where?”

Riley wet his lips and had to take several breaths before he could say, “My ass.”

“No. That’s not really what you want, is it?”

Riley blinked, taken aback, and then his entire body shivered when he realized what Andres wanted him to say. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“I can’t,” he said, even as he rocked his hips into Andres’ touch.

“Yes, you can.” Andres grasped the base of Riley’s cock and stroked upwards with one tortuously slow movement. He brushed his thumb over the slit, making an approving noise when Riley’s back bowed right off his chest. “I’m not doing it until you ask me the right way.”

When Riley shook his head, Andres stroked his cock again, tormenting him until Riley writhed in his lap.

“Tell me.”

“I want…” Riley closed his eyes and turned his face to the side, his toes curling. “I want you to finger my pussy." The words cracked something open inside of him, flooding his body with molten pleasure. “Oh my God, I have to come, please, I can’t – I can’t wait, it hurts, I need to come, please – ”

“Shh.” Andres kissed the side of Riley’s neck. He grasped the backs of Riley’s knees and hitched them up, positioning Riley more comfortably, grunting when Riley’s ass rubbed over his erection. “If I let you come now, will you be able to get it up again?”

Yes.” Riley would have laughed aloud at the absurdity of the question if he hadn’t needed to come so badly that he was in genuine pain.

“Okay, baby, I’ll take care of you. Put your arms around my neck.”

Riley reached up to lace his fingers at the nape of Andres’ neck. He was left stretched out and helpless, his body at Andres’ mercy.

Andres didn’t tease him anymore, though. He jerked Riley off with one hand, massaged Riley’s hole with the other, and Riley came in less than ten seconds, his body twisting and his legs kicking out in the ecstasy of relief.

When it was over, Riley sagged into Andres, dropping his legs to the floor. Andres held and soothed him for a minute or so. Then he wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist and stood, bringing Riley with him to set him on his feet.

“Come on, sweet boy,” Andres said, taking Riley’s hand with his clean one.

Riley followed, content to be led, as Andres walked into the kitchen and washed Riley’s come off his other hand. After he’d dried his hand on a dishtowel, he tilted Riley’s chin up and caught his eyes.

“Color?” he asked.

“Mmm, green.” Riley smiled up at him.

Andres smiled back, grabbed Riley’s waist, and tossed him bodily over one shoulder.

Riley yelped, clutching the back of Andres’ shirt. Once the initial shock subsided, though, he felt in no danger of being dropped; Andres’ shoulder was a broad, steady rock beneath his stomach, Andres' arm bracing his waist as securely as an iron band. It wasn’t a comfortable way to be carried, but he wasn’t all that concerned in the face of Andres’ raw strength and the delicious hint of brutality.

After delivering a slap to Riley’s ass with his free hand, Andres carried Riley into his bedroom and dropped him on the bed. As Riley wriggled around, shoving the covers aside and searching for a comfortable position, Andres rapped his knuckles against the inside of Riley’s knee.

“You keep your legs spread when you’re in this bed unless I tell you otherwise."

Riley propped himself on his elbows and opened his legs nice and wide, feet flat on the bed. His stomach swooped with pleasure at the way Andres’ eyes lingered on his hole, and he couldn’t help a slutty roll of his hips. He wanted Andres to see where he was still empty and desperate to be fucked.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Andres unbuttoned his shirt, taking his sweet time about it. He let it fall to the floor and raised his eyebrows as Riley gaped at him.

“Holy shit,” Riley said with feeling. This was the first time he’d seen Andres shirtless. The guy might as well have been sculpted from marble; he was pure muscle, from his brawny shoulders to his thick pecs to abs that could have been Photoshopped. “You’re so fucking hot, how much do you lift, for God’s sake – ”

Andres’ eyes creased with amusement. “I bench a lot more than your bodyweight, I can tell you that much,” he said as he toed out of his sneakers and stripped off his socks.

The Cuban coat of arms Andres had shown Riley in the restaurant rippled over the skin on his right arm; the left bore an ornate, scrolled cross inked in shades of black and gray. Riley had never had strong feelings about tattoos one way or the other, but looking at Andres’ now had his legs falling open further.

“Lie back,” said Andres. “Stretch your arms out overhead and hold your right wrist with your left hand. Legs in the air.”

Riley made more of a show of arranging himself than was strictly necessary, but it was worth it for Andres’ appreciative groan. Andres popped the button on his jeans and lowered the zip, then climbed onto the bed without taking them off. He crawled over Riley’s body, between Riley's raised legs, and put his hands on either side of Riley’s shoulders to loom atop him like a predatory animal.

“What do you think I’m going to do to you now?” he asked quietly.

“I hope you’re going to fuck me.”

“Smart boy.” Andres kissed him.

God, he was a great kisser, aggressive without crossing the line into overpowering, taking control of the kiss but not smothering Riley with it. He captured Riley’s tongue and sucked on it, then nibbled on Riley's lower lip. Riley pressed his legs against Andres’ sides.

“Please.” Breaking the kiss to mouth at Andres’ jaw, Riley struggled to keep his arms down. “I need something inside, I’m going crazy – ”

“Slut.” Andres bit the junction of Riley’s neck and shoulder, sucking a bruise into the skin.

Riley’s cock, which had never softened entirely, twitched with a rush of fresh blood. “Please,” he said again.

Andres got up to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand. He returned to press himself along Riley’s side, one hand pinning Riley’s crossed wrists to the bed and the other settling on Riley’s stomach. “Can you keep those legs up for me a little longer?”

“Yes, sir.” Riley pulled his knees closer to his chest; his feet dangled in mid-air. He tested the grip Andres had on his arms and sighed happily when Andres didn’t budge.

With impressive dexterity, Andres opened and squeezed the lube bottle one-handed. He set it aside and rubbed his fingers together, then reached between Riley’s legs and slid one finger inside Riley all at once, right to the third knuckle.

Ah.” Riley threw his head back, straining to part his legs further.

“You’re just sucking me right in.” Andres' finger ground a slow circle inside Riley, knuckle pressing against the rim. “You must need to be fucked pretty badly, huh?”

“I do, I do – nngh.” The stretch of Andres’ second finger stole Riley’s voice.

Andres kissed the inside of Riley’s arm. “I’m not surprised. You’re a little pussyboy whore, aren’t you, baby? Craving a big cock up inside you all the time. Wanting to be held down and fucked open like you were born for.”

Panting, Riley raised his head to stare with glazed eyes at Andres’ fingers scissoring inside his hole. When Andres found his prostate, he curled in on himself, his hips lifting off the bed. He received no mercy; Andres only followed him, fingertips rubbing and pulsing against that tender spot until his body jerked uncontrollably.

“Oh, God, fuck me,” Riley said, finding his voice again. “Fuck me.”

“You’re not ready yet, sweetheart. I know you remember how big I am.”

The sense memory of Andres’ thick cock inside him dragged a sobbing moan from Riley’s throat. His own cock was hard again, swollen as full as if he hadn’t come at all, and it throbbed while Andres worked a third finger into his hole.

By the time Andres determined him ready, Riley was a shaking, sweaty mess, every muscle aching from thrashing against Andres’ hold. He keened, high-pitched and needy, as Andres’ fingers left him.

“Hang on a little bit longer for me,” Andres said. “You’re being such a good boy.”

Andres got rid of the rest of his clothes, and Riley’s eyes were riveted to his thick cock. It was near impossible for Riley to stay still; he squeezed his wrist so hard the bones creaked, watching Andres roll the condom on and groan as he gave himself a few light strokes.

Having been preoccupied with his own arousal up to that point, Riley thrilled to the evidence that Andres was just as affected as he was – eyes dark and lustful, sweat gleaming on his chest, muscular thighs rigid with tension. Gorgeous.

Holding his cock at the ready, Andres said, “I think pretty little cocksluts get fucked on their hands and knees. What do you think?”

Riley turned onto his front, careful to keep his legs open as he moved, and presented himself as if he were in heat. Andres knelt behind him and took hold of his hips, rubbing his cock between Riley’s cheeks.

“That’s it, baby. Stay like that.”

The head of Andres’ cock pushed into his hole. Riley grunted, rocking back on it – but just like at the club, Andres held Riley still and went at his own pace. In his right mind, Riley would have appreciated the care. Andres’ cock was large enough that a sudden penetration would be dangerous. Sunk deep in subspace and half-crazed with arousal, though, he whimpered his objection and squirmed against Andres’ hands.

Andres couldn’t be rushed. He pulled Riley’s hips back gently, sinking in with small, deliberate strokes. When his balls were flush with Riley’s ass, he circled his hips, testing the give of Riley’s hole. Only then did he pick up speed, thrusting in hard and deep.

Nnn.” Riley dropped from his hands onto his elbows, the breath punched out of him as Andres’ aggression ramped up quickly.

“This what you wanted?” Andres smacked Riley’s ass. “Take it, slut.”

Riley did just that, submitting to each rough slam of Andres’ hips with his legs spread wide and his ass in the air. His cock slapped against his stomach and he gripped the sheet, his insides lighting up with pleasure. Taking it felt amazing, but it would be even better if –

He bucked against Andres, struggling to pull away. Andres contained the escape attempt with a complete lack of effort that turned Riley’s muscles to jelly.

“We gonna fight?” Andres asked, his voice pitched low. “Go ahead, give it your best shot.”

Riley lunged forward. Andres dragged him back with one hand on his shoulder and the other tangled in Riley’s hair. He didn’t even stop thrusting.

“Nice try,” he said, yanking Riley’s head backwards and fucking into him harder.

Riley kept resisting, getting hotter and hotter each time Andres smacked him down. Thank God for safewords, allowing them to play at the use of force like this – though Riley’s consent was obvious in the way he couldn’t stop jerking himself off even as he tried to “escape”.

He clenched around Andres’ cock, more for his own pleasure than anything else. Andres groaned, hips stuttering, and Riley took advantage of Andres' distraction to scramble away. He’d almost managed to free himself, only the tip of Andres’ cock left inside, before Andres was back on him, flattening him to the bed and trapping him there with that massive body.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Andres’ breath was hot against the nape of Riley’s neck, his cock pounding savagely into Riley’s ass. “I’m not done with you yet, fuckhole – ”

Riley cried out, shocked, and came all over his stomach and the bed. Andres’ answering moan was colored with surprise as well. His hips bounced off Riley’s ass, frenzied; one hand clutched Riley's asscheek.

“Tighten up,” he rasped.

Andres had liked that in the club, too. Riding the high from his orgasm, Riley squeezed around Andres again and again, until Andres shoved in balls-deep and grunted in time with a few sharp, erratic thrusts.

Riley nuzzled his face into the bed, his body glowing inside and out. He was dimly aware of Andres pulling out, getting rid of the condom, and laying down beside him. Since he hadn’t been given permission to close his legs, he left them spread.

Andres’ hand smoothed up and down Riley’s spine, his heavy breathing loud in the now-quiet room. Riley arched into the touch like a cat.

After a few minutes, Andres said, “I’m going to get us some water and a towel. Will you be okay alone for a little bit?”


Riley must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Andres was rubbing a warm, wet cloth between his legs. He shivered at the soft scrape of cotton fibers against his raw hole. If Andres had tried to fuck back into him then, he would have surrendered without a pretense of objection.

Andres didn’t, of course. He cleaned the lube from Riley’s ass and balls, then rolled Riley over to wipe the come off his stomach and mop up the damp spot on the bed. Exchanging the washcloth for an open bottle of water, Andres slid one arm beneath Riley’s back, lifted him half-upright, and held the water to his lips. Riley made no attempt to take the bottle or support his own body weight as he drank.

When Riley’d had enough, Andres set the bottle aside and dabbed a few stray droplets that had rolled down Riley’s jaw. He smiled, his gaze traveling over Riley’s body, and blinked when he took in Riley’s parted legs.

Oh.” He ran a reverent hand over Riley's inner. “You really are a good boy, aren’t you? You can close your legs now, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Warmed by the praise, Riley shifted his legs together. Andres rolled him onto his side and spooned up behind, bringing the covers with them.

“You gonna stay the night?” he asked, draping one brawny arm over Riley’s waist.

“If you don’t mind.” Though Riley hadn’t planned on sleeping over, he couldn’t imagine trying to walk right now, let alone going back to his noisy dorm.

“I’d prefer it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Riley wriggled backwards, snugging himself closer into the protective curve of Andres’ body.

As Andres grazed light patterns over Riley’s skin with his fingertips, he said, “I can get kind of handsy after a scene. It helps with Dom drop. Just tell me when it’s too much and I’ll back off.”

“No, it’s nice,” Riley mumbled, already drifting. “Handsy is nice.”

Andres kissed the top of his head. Floating on a sea of endorphins, Riley sank into sleep.