Late that same night I held May’s wrists down and wrapped my legs around his waist. I hovered over his face and watched him. He rippled his body in an S-shape between my thighs.
“When are you going to fuck me?” he said in a tiny, tiny voice.
Now, I thought. I didn’t say it out loud. Instead I hooked a finger behind the steel ring around his neck and dragged him to his feet and through the bedroom door. I stripped his clothes off and left them in a trail of little satin puddles. I pulled tan leather straps and silicone from our new teak toy chest. When I bought the chest it came with a little card, detailing the history of the ships the teak was salvaged from.
I pressed him into the bed with one hand on the dip of his spine. He arched his back in the air with his ass pointing straight up, and I laughed and had to push him back down to get him in a position I could actually penetrate from.
He made the most amazing noises. He started by moaning vowels out low in his throat, like music. When I thrust faster he gave low boar-grunts that ended in little mouse-squeaks, and when I finally stopped and lay across his back he sighed so deep I could feel it curl his toes.
