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Chapter 9

John

I have been staring at a half-empty Word document for the better part of an hour. Not because I don't have anything to write about - although, who wants to be writing a thesis paper - but because I have other things on my mind. Namely Lance, and trying to think of a plan for our date tomorrow.

Our schedules have been so busy that Lance and I haven't seen much of each other the past couple of weeks. On top of his normal classes, Lance's wrestling season is kicking into gear and his coach has nearly doubled their practice schedule. He's also stepping up the studying, he was busy almost every night last week. On my side of things, I have research surveys to set up, which also means stacks of the results to sort through, and then a meeting with my faculty advisor to prove that I'm not wasting my (and the university's) time and money on worthless research.

I don't talk much about my grad student project. Not because I'm ashamed of it or anything, but it's...kind of a sensitive subject. For most, at least. So, as an undergrad, my major was in psychology. I'm not interested in practicing psychology, going through everything required for that intimidates even me. What I'm interested in is research.

People fascinate me. I sound like an alien or something when I say that. I just mean, I've met a lot of interesting people over the years, especially within the kink community. And the more I get to know somebody, the more interesting things I learn. So you know, figuring out what makes people tick and getting paid to do it seemed like kind of a no brainer.

So, back to my actual project. The research I'm collecting and the thesis paper I'm writing are on a subject near and dear to my heart: kink. Specifically, I'm looking at self-described kinksters and the relationships between things like mental health, criminal history, job satisfaction - things you might be able to use to quantify how "successful" a person is in life. I always felt like we get a bad rap, that we're sick or damaged, that we're this way because of abuse, or we're abusers ourselves. I'd like to disprove that.

As you can imagine, with that kind of subject matter, moving forward with my research hasn't been the easiest. It took forever to find a faculty advisor to actually take me on, not to mention the severe lack of scholarly articles on just about everything related to kink. And finding the actual subjects to research hasn't been easy either. I've basically got two groups of people I can pull from: college students and active kinksters. One group is too shy - or naive - to come forward, while the other can usually think of a million things they'd rather be doing then answering some college kid's survey. It's been an interesting semester.

"Ugh." I close the Word document. I can do that later. I'd rather focus on something that hasn't been giving me a recurring nightmare in which I must enter an ever-growing stack of survey responses into an old computer while being endlessly flogged by a crude Tom of Finland caricature. Like Lance.

Things have been going really good with Lance. I still often find myself surprised at just how good. Every curveball I've thrown at Lance...with the way he handles them it almost feels like he's throwing one right back. I don't mean that I'm trying to trip him up or anything. I just wanted to present a lot of these scenarios sooner than later. Like ripping off a bandaid.

...That might be something I should talk to my therapist about.

Like I was saying, Lance has been up for everything I've presented him with. Wonderfully. But, everything I've presented him with has involved a lot of other people. Heavily. And because my boy has done so beautifully, I want to reward him with some one on one time. I think it's important that I show him that even with all this craziness I am inviting into our lives, at the end of the day I still want it to be about him and me.

...Got kinda deep in the relationship talk there for a minute. Something else for the therapist.

So, a date night. I'm thinking...something traditional, like dinner and a movie.

With a few surprises. I'm still me.


"I mean, just...that was just so slow compared to all the lightsaber fights they have in the newer movies!" Lance shakes his head in exasperation.

"I know, but I think they were going for a whole...medieval duel type feel back then." I shrug my shoulders. That's my dad's explanation at least.

Lance and I are walking through a park after catching an early movie. A local theatre was playing a print of the original Star Wars and, remembering that Lance had told me he'd never seen it, it seemed like an fun choice. The place I'm taking us for dinner is right around the corner, and I wanted to just wander around and spend a little quiet time together here first.

"And I think I could see the string when they blew up Alderaan," he snorts.

"Just wait until you see the original Yoda puppet," I taunt.

So far, I am happy to report a successful date night thus far. I have some plans for the two of us after dinner, back in my room, but for now, I'm happy that it's just the two of us here, peacefully enjoying each other's company.

At least until I find the next public restroom.

We circle the park for another 15 minutes or so. We're in no particular rush, but once I hear Lance's stomach growling, I figure it's about time to feed my hungry boy. Just one thing to take care of first.

"Hey, follow me." I tug on Lance's wrist and walk towards one of the park's bathrooms.

I turn once we're both inside and pull Lance in for a kiss. After a minute of making out, I pull us apart.

"Been wanting to do that all night." I wink and squeeze his hand.

"Me too, Sir." He squeezes back.

"Alright, in here." I pull Lance into the handicap stall in the back. I doubt anyone else is coming in here, but better safe than sorry.

After another quick kiss and a grope, I reach into my jacket pocket to pull out two objects that I have spent the better part of two and a half hours being paranoid that they might fall out of my pocket: a buttplug, and lube. Lance's eyes go wide when I show him my plans for the next portion of the evening.

"Alright boy, drop 'em," I nod towards his jeans.

Lance hesitates for only a second before reaching for his belt and zipper. See? He's the fucking best. I step forward and grab his cock through his jockstrap. He's wearing his cage, just like I told him to. I stroke my hand along his balls repeatedly, feeling his cock trying to plump up in vain.

Satisfied with the front, I flip him around, facing the mirror over the sink. I told him before I picked him up that he would want to 'prep' for later, I just didn't specify how much later. He pulls his jeans down to his thighs - he's smart enough to know what I need - but I can't help myself to a few generous squeezes of his exposed peach of a rump. I just wanna rub my face against that blonde fuzz...

Another growl of Lance's stomach snaps me back to the present. Right, things to do...

"Bend over the sink." I move behind him and with my hands on his sides guide him over.

I give his ass a few light spanks before proceeding. Plug in one hand, I aim my small bottle of lube and coat it's side generously, dropping the bottle back into my pocket and spreading the lube evenly across the plug's surface. Then, after wiping the lube covered hand across his hole, I spread him open with one hand and press the plug against his hole with the other.

Lance braces himself, moaning slightly as the plug pierces his posterior. I'm practically licking my lips as I watch the thickest part of the toy passing through his ring of muscle. I have trained this hole well, and there's so much more I have planned for it. Allowing the rest of the plug to slide in of its own accord, I give Lance a second to adjust and breathe.

"How's that feel?" I give the plug's flared base a few taps, enjoying the shudder that passes through Lance each time.

"Good, Sir." Lance flexes his glutes for me and I grab another nice handful.

"Good boy." Another spank. "Now, pants up, let's get some food in that belly."

Lance looks a little confused as he buttons up his jeans but says nothing. I don't bother explaining myself. Just smile, and lead Lance out of the bathroom. All according to plan.

The restaurant is only about a ten-minute walk from here, and we're seated as soon as we get inside. It's nothing fancy, just a little family Italian restaurant and pizzeria. I've been here a few times and the food's pretty good. And it's enough of a hole in the wall that I'm not worried about us being seen by anyone we know.

The server leads us to a small table with a large tablecloth. I set my phone out on the table before I sit. I can't help but chuckle as I watch Lance take his seat gingerly because of the plug. Took him a minute to get used to walking with it in, too. Still, I say nothing, just open a menu and give the server our drink order.

"Before our little pitstop in the park there, I almost thought this was going to be a boring evening," Lance taunts.

"Aww, come on, boy." I start fiddling with my phone. "You know me better than that." As I speak the final word, I hit a button on my phone, and Lance nearly jumps out of his seat.

Technology is a wonderful thing. Did you know that they make vibrating butt plugs that you can control with a remote these days? And did you also know that with the advent of Bluetooth technology, some of these plugs can even be controlled with a smartphone app? I did, and now so does Lance.

"S-sir?" Lance croaks out.

"Yes, boy?" I reply nonchalantly, moving a slider on my phone up. This thing's got all sorts of vibration options and speeds, and Lance is biting his lip as the plug's intensity increases.

Lance doesn't bother responding, but instead grips the tabletop tightly, his knuckles nearly white. I continue to tap away at my phone, teasing (or torturing, I guess) my boy as he struggles not to get caught. He's doing a pretty good job so far, barely a peep or wiggle out of him. I mean, I'm not trying to get us caught...

"Are you gentlemen ready to order?" Crap. Except I may not have noticed the waiter walking over to us.

"Hmm...I think I'm ready, what about you Lance?" I can't help but make the poor boy squirm a little more.

"Um, uh." Lance starts fumbling through his menu, and it's taking all my power not to laugh.

"I'll give you guys another couple of minutes." The waiter smiles (maybe a little oddly at Lance) and leaves us to finish looking.

"You're evil, Sir." He gripes as I lower the plug's settings.

"You better look at your menu while you have a chance boy." I cock an eyebrow and tap my blank (for now) phone screen).

"Yes, Sir." His eyes go from my phone to his menu.

A few minutes later and we're ready for the waiter's return.

"Have you gentlemen decided?" He wasn't a bad looking guy, but I couldn't tell if he was 'family' or not.

"I'll have the chicken piccata," I say as I hand him my menu. "No salad."

"And you, sir?" He turns to Lance.

"I'll have the chicken AAHHlfredo," Lance shouts the second half of his order. "No salad for me either," he finishes, grumbling as he hands back his menu.

"We'll have those out for you in a few minutes." The waiter looks at Lance a little funny again as he takes the menu, but I don't think he suspects anything.

"Whoops," I faux-apologize once we are alone again. "My finger must have slipped."

"I can't decide if I love or hate this thing." Lance shakes his head.

"Good thing you're not in charge of making decisions, huh?" I slip off one of my shoes under the table, and then press my foot against his caged cock. "Just wait until we get home."

Lance just bites his lip and rides it out.


The rest of dinner was relatively uneventful. I tried to get Lance to slip up again when our food was brought, but he was ready for me. I adjusted the toy a few more times but left it alone for the most part. I still wanted him to enjoy his dinner. The car ride home, however... There were a lot of red lights to kill time during. I drove us back to his dorm since there would be fewer questions about the two of us walking in together, no sneaking required.

"Let me hit the bathroom real quick before you 'freshen up'," I say while putting our leftovers away in the mini-fridge Lance and his roomie definitely aren't supposed to have.

I pop into their bathroom really quickly and grab the mouthwash. I rinse my mouth out, thoroughly. Italian restaurants might be romantic, but the food is not conducive to kissing. I spit out my minty mouthful and rinse, before giving the room over to Lance.

"Be right out, Sir." Lance is just doing the standard 'check and rinse' that comes with long term plug wearing. I pull off my shirt and undo my belt, making myself comfortable while I wait... And check on a few more preparations.

It's only a few minutes before Lance rejoins me, naked, save the cock-cage. No point in getting redressed.

"Woof." I kick off my pants and pat the bed next to me. "C'mere baby."

I pull Lance in for a kiss as he moves to the bed, rolling us both on our sides to face each other. No words, just making out. I let my hand run down his back to his ass and back up. I can feel the plastic in his pouch pressing against my own package. Hands on my ass, he pulls me in closer, desperate for friction he is unable to feel.

Once I've had my fill of his mouth (for now) I climb over Lance, letting him move to the center of the bed. I grab his wrists and move them over his head, near the metal frame of his bed...and the cuffs I asked Dave attach earlier. He's a good boy, that one.

"What?" Lance's head goes up as he feels the first cuff slide over his wrist. He's surprised but seems to work out who did it on his own and is content to let me work.

Once he's secure, I move my hands down to his chest, kneading his pecs. He smiles as I touch him, and I can't help but lean down for more kisses. I also can't help running my fingers down his sides and up his armpits to tickle him. He squawks indignantly in my mouth, struggling against his bonds, but I don't stop kissing him.

I stop my tickling and move my mouth towards his neck, licking and kissing my way towards his ear. I'm careful not to bite or suck - I once gave Lance a hickey on accident and he almost had an aneurysm. Instead, I just use my tongue to trace small circles on his skin, before nibbling on his ear. I hear Lance moan softly underneath me, happy now to let me work.

After repeating my oral ministrations on the other side of his neck, I shuffle backward and move further down his body. After I make a pitstop at his pits - my boy smells good - I arrive at my target, his chest. One of the perks of dating an athlete is a nice beefy rack like this.

I lower my mouth to his right nipple while reaching up with my hand to squeeze his left. Almost as soon as my tongue makes contact do I hear Lance hiss, his body attempting to lift further towards my mouth. I smile around the nipple in my mouth. If he's already this desperate, I can't wait to see what the rest of the night does to him. I've got plans for this boy, and they all involve me taking my time.

Done for now with the right, I switch my mouth over to the left side of his body and continue to play with Lance's chest. I can't help but try and suck the whole peck into my mouth, while giving the other a good squeeze. Reluctantly, I release it and switch sides once more. I look forward to the day when I can stop worrying about leaving marks.

After a few more minutes of oral action on his chest, I make my way further down. I look up as I move, locking eyes with a very horny Lance. Smirking, I stop for a moment to nuzzle his furry belly. He would hate hearing this, but I really like that he isn't one of those guys with a 6 pack. I love the softness of his body covering his firm muscles. Plus, I don't have one either and don't need my boy showing me up like that.

After some tummy time, I reach my target for the next 15 minutes or so - his crotch. I eye the pink plastic encasing his cock and reach one hand up to stroke his balls, watching as they contract at my touch. I lean in closer, pressing myself into the crook of his thigh. Fuck, he smells good. Swiping my tongue across him, I can tell you his tastes good too. I continue to nuzzle into his thigh, slowly but firmly licking the sensitive, salty skin in my reach.

Much like with his chest, Lance can't help but lift himself off the bed. He desperate for more pressure, more friction. I just smile to myself and switch sides, giving him a nice wet swipe across his balls as I do so. I can see he's already leaking from the tip of the cage. Good. I'm gonna wring a whole lot more out of him before the night is over.

"Alright, boy," Done with his front half, it's time to move on to his back. Lifting myself from his crotch and the bed, I give him a tap on the thigh. "Flip over and let me see that ass."

"Mmm, yes sir," Lance replies happily. There's enough slack in his bonds that I won't need to uncuff him. Once he's on his stomach, I crawl back between his legs.

I grab his ass with both hands. Fuck do I love this thing. Just like the rest of him, a soft layer on top of two mounds of hard muscle, all covered with a fuzzy patch of blonde fur. I lean in and rub my beard against it. Can't help it. I squeeze and massage his glutes tightly as I scrape over his skin gently with my beard. I can feel that he's fighting the urge to press his ass up. He knows what's coming.

I spread his cheeks apart and find his tight, furled hole winking at me. Gently, I blow air up and down his crack and watch that same hole twitch in response. I slowly lower my mouth to his hole, my tongue just barely making contact with his skin. I slowly and lightly trace a circle around his hole, earning a whine of frustration in response. Good.

Satisfied that I've gotten him worked up enough, I give him what he wants. I thrust my tongue into his hole, probing deeply as he presses back against my face. I drive my tongue in and out, fucking him while he moans into his pillow. I give that plump rump a nice smack while I eat him out.

Next, I pull my tongue out and begin to lick long, slow swaths across his hole, letting my beard scrape over it with each pass. I alternate between this and the deep tongue-fucking, only coming up for air when I absolutely must. I keep a tight grip on his ass, delivering the occasional smack, and I can hear the growls coming from my throat as I feast.

Unfortunately, after about 15 solid minutes of ass-eating, my lips and tongue begin to tire. I'm not too disappointed though, that just means it's time to move on to the next phase of our evening. With a few final licks (and a kiss) I release his ass from my hold and begin climbing back up Lance's body.

I kick off my pants and jock as I make my way up his back, tracing his spine with my tongue. Aside from the occasional shudder, Lance is relaxed into the bed, waiting for whatever it is I'm going to do next. With my hot breath on his neck, and my hard cock rubbing against his ass, I'm pretty sure he knows what's up.

"You ready to get your brains fucked out, boy?" I breathe into his ear, before reaching over the bed towards his nightstand for the lube.

"Please, daddy." Lance's response is a little muffled by the pillows.

I'm glad Lance is a big boy because he can handle all my weight being on top of him while I slick my dick up with one hand. As I grind my slippery dick against his hole, I wrap my other arm around his neck - just a little.

"Good, because we aren't going to finish until I feel that pussy cumming on my cock." I reach down with my free hand and aim my cockhead at his hole.

"Sir?" Lance is confused, so I'll spell it out for him.

"All I want you to do is focus on that tight hole of yours," I tighten the arm around his neck. "Not fighting against it, the feelings of being stretched open and having your p-spot rubbed and scraped, and just letting everything go."

"Yes, Sir," he answers a little more confidently. Good, he's in for a long ride.

And ride him I do. I let my hips drop, sinking my wet cock into his hole. Lance groans as he's stretched open. I chew lightly on his ear, tightening my arm around his neck. Once my hips are flush with his ass, I put all of my weight on top of him, making sure I'm sunk in fully. And even then, I make sure to grind my hips in a slow circle a few times. I really want to get him open for this.

Once I'm satisfied, I plant my knees on either side of his hips, lift myself up, and get to work. Speed and power isn't what I'm looking for here. What I need is a nice, steady grind. I'm not focusing on making myself cum (though don't worry, I will), I'm trying to give Lance his first prostate orgasm. I'm looking to make the pressure - and pleasure - build, and then release.

Alright folks, pull up a chair because Daddy John is going to teach you all about prostate orgasms. Really, anal orgasm is a more apt term, as women and men without prostates are still fully capable of having them. It's just that with the prostate, you have a more direct target to aim for.

So the first thing is, when you have a anal orgasm, most of the time, you do not cum the traditional way, with semen leaving your dick. In fact, it is far more common for your dick to be partially or totally flaccid when this happens. That's not to say it doesn't happen, but on the whole, if you're shooting from your dick, that's not a prostate orgasm, that's just an orgasm assisted by stimulating your prostate.

It won't feel like your cumming the traditional way, either. It actually feels more like you have to pee (which some people do, but more on that in a minute), you feel a pressure building in your lower half. You will have the sudden urge to bear down and push out, and many people instinctively fight against this because typically when one is getting fucked in the ass, that is the opposite of what you want to do.

Which is why cleaning out is so important if you are someone prone to having them. Because your body is going to try to push everything inside of you, out. Namely, your top, who will have to fight against your muscles at least a little to stay seated inside. Ideally, nothing will come out, and a top looking down will see your hole pushing out around him until the orgasm passes.

Now, nothing coming out isn't entirely accurate. The act of having an anal (or vaginal) orgasm is sometimes called creaming, which is well, followed by said cream. It's white, doesn't smell like much, and is very lube-like. That's just mucus, as gross as that may sound. You know how if you throw up on an empty stomach, nothing really comes out? Same concept. You're pushing out, but there's nothing to push out, so all that's coming out is your body's the mucus lining. That's why your various orifices are called mucus membranes.

Now, remember earlier, when I said that sometimes, a person might pee during this? And do you also know how sometimes, when women have orgasms, they 'squirt'? Well, I hate to burst anyone's bubble, but that's just pee. When I said push everything out, that really does mean everything, sometimes. The bladder and all it's muscles are located very close to where the prostate sits, and sometimes those muscles are stimulated all the same. Because it's being forced out earlier than intended, it's usually clearer and more diluted, and it doesn't end up looking or smelling like you just pissing yourself.

So with all that in mind, I ready myself for a nice long fuck. I wanna make sure I don't tire myself out, not before I feel that hole cumming on my cock. Although I am starting to wonder if I should've put a towel down. Enh, we'll probably be fine.

I drive myself downward, using the springs in the mattress to bounce myself back up in a steady rhythm. I keep my hips angled up, ensuring that my cock is pointing down with every scrape over Lance's prostate. I'm really more grinding against his ass then fucking it. All the while, my arm is still wrapped around his neck, occasionally tightening and cutting off some of his air. He can only moan in response.

After a few minutes of this, it's time for a check-in. "How you holding up, boy?" I lick the shell of his ear.

"G-good, sir. Feel really good," Lance breathes out.

"And how does your hole feel?" Another lick.

"Good. Stretched. J-just trying to focus on keeping it relaxed for you, Sir." Aww, that's sweet, but not what I need him to do.

"Stop fighting it, boy." I purr into his ear. "If your hole wants to try and force me out, let it."

"B-but sir, I don't want--"

"Boy, have we just met? Unless you've been doing some kind of secret super-Kegels, my dick isn't going anywhere." I flex my cock and grind against his plump ass for emphasis. "Let go."

Not waiting for an answer, I move my arm from his neck and grip his jaw roughly in my hand, forcing his mouth to the side to meet my own. I kiss him deeply, enjoying the sudden gasp followed by soft moans he releases as I continue to plunder his posterior. I am all ready to settle in for the next 20-30 minutes, but that's when I feel it.

I'm not sure at first, it just feels like a small twinge of pressure around my dick. But then it happens again, and again. His body's internal reflexes are starting to kick in, he's trying to push me out. Which means we're close.

I release his mouth so I can coach him through it. "You're almost there boy. Stop fighting it."

"I-I don't--" He cuts himself off. "What's happening?"

"That's your Daddy making your pussy cum, baby," I growl into his ear before forcing his head to the side once more and mashing our mouths together.

That may have not been the most eloquent way to say that, but I couldn't help myself. Besides, he'll figure it out shortly. I did. I can feel his hole squeeze around my dick tightly, as I continue to fuck down into it, fighting back. It's really no contest, and soon Lance practically explodes with a moan as it fully rolls over him. I can feel the muscles in his legs tense, unable to do anything but endure.

And the thing about prostate/anal orgasms is, once you have one, you're already primed for the next one. And then the next one. And then the next one. And they pretty much just continue to happen over and over again, until your top finishes. Or you die, I guess.

I manage to wring at least half-a-dozen orgasms out of Lance, each one accompanied by its own set of noises and involuntary movement. Through each of them, I hold him in place, arm around his neck or tongue in his mouth, holding him steady and keeping him focused on the task at hand. I can feel how wet my cock and his hole are. By the end of the sixth, he's an incoherent mess.

"I-I don't, I can't--" I can just make out his eyes rolling in his head as he approaches number seven. "Guh."

Seeing as I accomplished my mission, I suppose I'm about ready to wrap things up here. I turn his head once more to kiss him - kissing always gets me off - while I start to selfishly pound him for my own pleasure. Since before was all about him. Selfless, I know.

The mattress begins to creak under my relentless thrusts, the wet slaps of our skin filling the air. Lance continues to moan and mumble incoherently while I kiss him, and the knowledge that I have him so fucked out is what drives me over the edge. That and his eighth orgasm of the night.

I growl into Lance's open mouth, my cock expanding slightly inside of him as it unleashes its load. I fuck us both through our final (my first) orgasms, resting atop his prone body as the last of my cum leaves my cock. Wordlessly, I flip us onto our sides, making sure not to slip out. My boy needs to cool off after what I just put him through.

Neither of us says anything for a while. After a few minutes, Lance holds me by the wrist and pulls my arm around him. Taking the cue, I curl up behind him, spooning him tightly, and nuzzling his neck. I slowly stroke my thumb on his chest. It might sound cliche, but I feel very close to Lance right now. And with everything he's feeling, mentally and physically, I hope he feels that way too.

I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time. Haven't really let myself. But with Lance, everything's just so...

Fuck, am I gonna do the thing? I shouldn't. It's probably still too early. Right? No. Wait.

Fuck it. I'm doing it.

"Lance? Boy?" Want to make sure he's still awake, first.

"Mmm, Sir?" Just barely.

"I..." Do it, John. "I love you."

Lance goes still, and his breath hitches. Oh fuck, it was too early, wasn't it? I shouldn't have... I should have kept my mou--

"I love you too, Daddy. John."

I release the breath I didn't mean to start holding. He loves me too? He loves me too. I squeeze him tightly against me, raising up on my shoulder so that I can kiss him again. There are no more words, just touching, holding. I want to tell him how happy I am, tell him I love him over and over, but I don't. I just smile and hold him tightly. We are in need of some serious clean up after all that, and right now I just want this moment to last for as long as it can.

I am a very lucky man, with an amazing boyfriend.