dogshitjay
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54: Nature Documentaries
🕑 Added 2021-04-26 23:47:40 +0000 UTCCW: This chapter contains explicit sexual content. NSFW 18+ readers only!
Did I just think that he loved me? Inho rolled the thought over in his mind. Tasting it, fiddling with the hollows and edges. The idea felt unexpected, but not exactly...wrong.
“What are you thinking about?” Stephen grinned down at him where he sat in the fading bath bubbles. Inho had been gazing into the distance for some time now, and he flushed, jumping guiltily at Stephen’s voice echoing on the tiles.
“Hmm blushing? Was it sexy stuff? I’m just taking care of you, Inho. Try to keep your mind decent.”
“No, I–” Inho started to defend himself, then turned and shot him an indignant look, “I was just thinking that I’m grateful for you looking after me.”
“How sweet, I like your gratitude.” Stephen washed the last of the shampoo out of Inho’s hair. “What’s gratitude worth these days? Do I get some sort of reward?”
Inho rolled his eyes, “Aren’t I a reward enough? Such a greedy businessman.”
Stephen sprayed him in the mouth with the showerhead, “it’s dirty here too, huh?” then shut the faucet while Inho sputtered.
Stephen toweled Inho down, cautious of his wounds, and dried his hair, and soon, they were settled in Inho’s bed, warm, dry, and clean. Stephen played a nature documentary on Inho’s laptop and set it on the side table.
“You have to watch nature docs when you’re sick,” he explained, “I’ve done this since I was a kid,” Then he wrapped himself against Inho’s back as big spoon. Inho fit perfectly against him despite their similar heights, and Stephen snuck a few kisses onto his ear making him squirm.
“Besides, isn’t the narrator’s voice kinda hot?” As he spoke, his fingers drifted idly down Inho’s groin, absently teasing his softness through the sheets, until he wasn’t soft anymore.
“What the heck? He sounds like an old man,” Inho answered with a laugh, but then he was distracted from talking in favor of focusing on the pleasant sensations on his penis. After a few minutes of touching, his breath had become ragged. With a small huff of a moan, he pressed his hips forward into Stephen’s touch.
“Inho!” Stephen chastised him in a mocking tone, his hand pulling firmly on Inho’s pelvis to hold him still. “You’re injured! What are you thinking of right now?”
Inho pouted, and Stephen’s hands resumed their gentle motions. He put his hand under the sheet, but still over Inho’s underwear. He continued talking, casually describing which nature documentaries he liked best (the deep-sea ones) while he moved. Inho ignored his narration, all of his attention was focused on where Stephen’s fingertips traced small frustrating circles on the sensitive head of his cock. He was desperately hard now.
Stephen pulled down the front of his underwear, tucking the elastic just beneath so it pressed Inho’s package boldly up, red and flushed with blood and urgency. Stephen paused in his speech to wet his hand, then resumed contact with slow strokes. Inho gasped and tossed his head back. His focus was so intense that he already felt close to climax.
Stephen paused abruptly at Inho’s motion, and released his grip, interrupting the shuddering waves of heat that it was creating, “Inho you’re ribs are broken. You really need to hold still.” His touch resumed, “and don’t come either,” he added sternly. Inho squirmed, trying to follow Stephen’s directions as the pleasure picked up again, barely a fraction lower than it was before the interruption.
He loved it when Stephen told him what to do. He slipped at last into a relaxed headspace that didn’t need to think or worry, just obey and be rewarded. He needed this so badly right now.
Stephen’s breath was hot on the side of his neck. Twice more, Stephen let go when he got too close, barely letting him cool down before gripping him again. He was rock hard and leaking, and it was quickly getting to be too much to hold in –oversensitized and borderline painful. He whimpered, gripping fruitlessly at the sheets, he was going to come.
Stephen stopped again, “If you’re not going to do what you’re told, I’ll have to stop.”
“Don’t, please,” Inho choked out, “I’ll listen. I’ll be good.”
“Okay,” Stephen continued, his hand slipping, wet. “I knew you would. You’re a good boy.”
Inho was already back at the edge, straining, trying not to cross the point of no return, against his will, his hips bucked forward, the muscles in his legs jerking and bouncing.
Stephen paused, shifting his grip. Inho opened eyes blurry with tears that he couldn’t quite explain, beyond the sheer intensity of effort he was putting into not orgasming. Reflected in the screen, he could see Stephen watching him the way a hunting cat watches its prey when it knows there’s no escape. A potent mix of hunger and amusement. The promise of playful violence before the inevitable end.
“I guess, you’ve been good. If you promise to rest after, I can let you come,” he said.
“I promise,” Inho barely grunted out before ejaculating. Shooting across his chest, his back arched more than was probably safe for broken ribs. The twinge in his side throbbed along with the pleasure, and his throat vibrated with guttural sounds he couldn’t control, until he sagged empty, into sweat-damp sheets.
Stephen dragged a finger across his flexed abs, through the sticky rivulets running down the grooves of his muscles.
“You’ve made such a mess,” He observed, “But it looks so good on you, should I clean it with my tongue?”
Inho instinctively crossed his arms over himself protectively, “No!” he gasped, his exhausted eyes shooting back open.
Stephen hadn’t moved, and laughed out loud at his reaction, “You’re so cute.” He moved to place a kiss on Inho’s temple, “hang on and I’ll grab you a towel.”
“Wait, what about you?” Inho answered foggily, “I want to touch you too.”
“Mmmm, I’m fine, you’re a patient. You need to rest.” He lifted onto his knees, to climb out of Inho’s small bed.
“Then will you do it? Can I watch?” Inho’s cheeks burned at his own request.
Stephen stopped again, and smirked, “Ahh, you want a show?” he pretended to consider, rubbing his jaw in a pensive motion. “I suppose I can do that for you.” He, he shifted to straddle Inho’s thighs and pulling down his own underwear with a flourish.
Stephen pulled himself out, and he was clearly aroused, a bulging vein pulsing up the base as it flexed. He tilted his chin up as he grinned, turning a hot gaze on Inho’s face, “Watch carefully,” he said, and his hands started moving.
