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“Comfy?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He presses Play, and we start to watch the film.
Chapter 9
Tanner
* * *
I’m amazed at how well Wren follows the rules I set. As we watch the film, he rests his back against my chest and strokes my arm as I hold him. Whenever I nuzzle his cheek, he turns his face to receive a kiss. At first, I stay still, simply warming my cock in his arse. It feels amazing. I don’t need to do more than sit, watch, and cuddle my beautiful boy. Of course that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.
After about half an hour, when we reach the first action sequence of the film, I tighten my grip on him and thrust up into him. Once. Twice. Three times. I’m eager to do more because his arse feels so damn good around my cock, but I make myself stop. He whimpers but doesn’t try to fuck himself. He remains still, his stare focused on the TV while his fingers drift back and forth over my skin.
“You’re such a good boy,” I whisper before kissing his neck.
I catch him smiling, but he stays quiet.
When the film gets exciting again, I thrust into him. The movement of my hips matches the intensity of the film. He stays still and keeps watching, even as he gasps and groans. Thankfully, the action sequence ends before I get too close to the brink of an orgasm. I still, panting against his cheek, as I catch my breath.
“Such a good boy,” I repeat, stroking his chest.
He hugs my arm to his chest but doesn’t move more than that.
As we reach the second half of the film, quiet moments become few and far between. So rather than thrusting throughout an entire action sequence, I do it sporadically, trying to catch him off guard. I lift my hips once, achingly slowly. Wren tips his head against my shoulder, allowing me to stroke his stretched throat. After a pause, I grind into him a dozen times or more. Fast and furious, like the pace of the film. My grunts and his moans eclipse the dialogue. Not that it matters. I rest for several minutes before pumping my hips three times and pausing again.
It would be easy to get carried away and have us both come like this, but Wren put the image of him handcuffed to my bed into my head.
The film reaches its climax. I hold him tight and thrust for all I’m worth for a few dizzying seconds. He clings to my arm, gasping and groaning. I’m so close, so I know he must be too. But I also know he’ll use every ounce of willpower he has not to orgasm because I haven’t given him permission to. I could come. I could fill him with cum, cuddle him as I recover, and then fuck him and fill him up all over again later.
Fuck.
I tip over the edge before I can stop myself. Wren whimpers and digs his fingers into my flesh, no doubt to prevent himself from following me into ecstasy. I kiss his shoulder and neck as my body shudders with the effort of emptying my load into him. Then I hug, stroke, and kiss him as the film reaches its slow, heartfelt epilogue.
When the credits roll, I pick up the remote.
“Wait, Daddy,” Wren whispers. “There might be a mid or end-credit scene.”
I’m unsure if he believes that or is saying it to give me more recovery time.
“You were so good during the film, baby. Did you enjoy warming my cock?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You’re full of my cum now, boy.”
He sniggers. “Cum and cock.” He starts to wriggle but stops when I tut.
I brush my lips over the skin behind his ear. “The game’s not over yet, and you’re still not allowed to come.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“It will be your turn soon,” I promise. “But not yet.”
“It’s fine, Daddy. I’m not in a rush. I’m enjoying warming your cock. It felt wonderful before, but it feels nicer now.”
I chuckle. “You are a cum slut, aren’t you, baby?”
