Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > First Date
I now have a box beneath the bed that contains my new "toys". It's a sleek black box that I found near a dumpster. A padlock keeps it closed and I wear the key on a chain around my neck at all times. Kneeling down, I open it and reach inside. Pulling out a swathe of red velvet, I carry it back upstairs, a grin cracking my face as I re-enter the lounge.
Naked and braced against a table is Izzy, his beautiful pale body covered in goosebumps of anticipation. Walking in front of him, I place the velvet bag on the table and run a finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to mine. He gives me a little smile as I slide the fabric away from the cane that it hides. A pant escapes Izzy's lips as he carries on smiling, knowing what's coming next. He swallows as I pick up the slender cane and walk behind him.
My hand trails down his body as I move around him, causing him to shiver and moan. I can see his tight balls between his legs, his hardening cock twitching a little. Gently I caress his beautiful ass, my fingers stroking down the soft cleft and probing his tight hole. He moans and pushes back onto my finger. Quickly I pull back, lightly slapping his ass as I do.
"Later," I whisper, bending to press a kiss that perfect ass. "If you're good."
He sighs and squirms, panting and turned on. Standing to on side of him, I line the cane up to his buttocks.
"Why am I doing this?" I ask, putting on the strict voice that I've been perfecting. It's difficult to do, especially when your gorgeous lover is bent over in front of you, practically begging you to fuck him.
"To learn that I must not love those that hurt me or those that love me," he quickly replies.
"Good." I pull the cane back and flick it against his butt.
He lets out a low squeal, squirming as it connects. It leaves a lovely red mark against the wonderful pale skin. The mark won't last for long. I'm not Axl; I'm not going to make him bleed for me. Izzy may deserve it for going behind my back and trying to reconnect with him, but he won't be forced to bleed and beg at my hands. Not unless he requests it, and even then it would be difficult. Just lashing out at him when I found the letters broke my heart. Feeling my fist connect to that beautiful face sent shock-waves through my body. To think that I could lower myself to Axl's level made me feel ill. And later, after I'd spent the evening kissing Izzy better, I was sick. I felt ill every time I saw the bruise that marred his perfect skin.
I twist my wrist, flicking the cane again and relishing in the sound of it hitting his skin and the low, pained, yet turned on, moan that he gives. My cock twitches in my tight pants and I can't wait to wriggle out of them and lay him on the floor.
Stepping up to him, I gently kiss his ass again, my tongue gently licking over the red lines. Izzy hisses and pushes his ass towards me. Smiling, I carefully push his cheeks apart and kiss his tightly puckered hole. He moans and wriggles, trying to force himself onto my tongue. But I'm not letting him, not just yet anyway. He needs to take his punishment before he can have his fun.
"How many more do you think you deserve?" I ask.
His shoulders shrug a little and I have to hold myself back from bending him the rest of the way over that table and fucking him senseless.
"As many as you think I deserve, sir," comes the hushed voice.
Standing back, I admire him for a moment. The arched back and gentle swell of his bottom make me just want to crawl onto my hands and knees and worship him all night. I could stay there forever, just making him feel good as I let my hands wander over him. He's so beautiful, so perfect. I can't see why anyone would want to harm this man. Yeah, he may have gone behind my back and written letters to the bastard but I will never, ever lay a finger to him in that way again. I'd rather kill myself then ever see him cry in pain again. Tears of laughter? Yes. Tears of passion? Yes. Tears of pain? No thanks. It'll just break my heart. He knows he's done the damage and he knows he's got to pay for it. But it won't be through pain and blood. It'll be through love and care, being in the arms of someone who'll never break his skin in anger.
Again I flick the cane at his ass, watching as he squirms and moans, the cane leaving a beautiful red line against his pale skin. I do it again and again, listening to the moans and pants that fill the air. His hands grip the edge of the table, his knuckles white. I know he wants to jack off, but he knows that if he so much as touches his cock then I'll torture him all night long. I'll tie him up and tease him until he can't take it anymore. Then I'll stop and do it all over again. Yeah, I'm evil but we love it.
Dropping the cane, I drop to my knees and pull Izzy away from the table. His eyes are dark and dilated and his forehead is beaded with sweat. Quietly he pants as I pull him into my lap. Then our hands and mouths are attacking each other, his pulling my clothes away from my body as I lie him on the floor. His legs lock around my waist as I push my tongue into his mouth. We'll probably stay like this all night, naked and making love on the lounge floor. True, unadulterated love; it's what my mother would have wanted.
Dear Izzy,
Where are you? I haven't heard from you in ages. You wrote a couple of letters then disappeared. What happened? Are you okay? Please write back. I miss you and I need you.
Love,
Bill
Naked and braced against a table is Izzy, his beautiful pale body covered in goosebumps of anticipation. Walking in front of him, I place the velvet bag on the table and run a finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to mine. He gives me a little smile as I slide the fabric away from the cane that it hides. A pant escapes Izzy's lips as he carries on smiling, knowing what's coming next. He swallows as I pick up the slender cane and walk behind him.
My hand trails down his body as I move around him, causing him to shiver and moan. I can see his tight balls between his legs, his hardening cock twitching a little. Gently I caress his beautiful ass, my fingers stroking down the soft cleft and probing his tight hole. He moans and pushes back onto my finger. Quickly I pull back, lightly slapping his ass as I do.
"Later," I whisper, bending to press a kiss that perfect ass. "If you're good."
He sighs and squirms, panting and turned on. Standing to on side of him, I line the cane up to his buttocks.
"Why am I doing this?" I ask, putting on the strict voice that I've been perfecting. It's difficult to do, especially when your gorgeous lover is bent over in front of you, practically begging you to fuck him.
"To learn that I must not love those that hurt me or those that love me," he quickly replies.
"Good." I pull the cane back and flick it against his butt.
He lets out a low squeal, squirming as it connects. It leaves a lovely red mark against the wonderful pale skin. The mark won't last for long. I'm not Axl; I'm not going to make him bleed for me. Izzy may deserve it for going behind my back and trying to reconnect with him, but he won't be forced to bleed and beg at my hands. Not unless he requests it, and even then it would be difficult. Just lashing out at him when I found the letters broke my heart. Feeling my fist connect to that beautiful face sent shock-waves through my body. To think that I could lower myself to Axl's level made me feel ill. And later, after I'd spent the evening kissing Izzy better, I was sick. I felt ill every time I saw the bruise that marred his perfect skin.
I twist my wrist, flicking the cane again and relishing in the sound of it hitting his skin and the low, pained, yet turned on, moan that he gives. My cock twitches in my tight pants and I can't wait to wriggle out of them and lay him on the floor.
Stepping up to him, I gently kiss his ass again, my tongue gently licking over the red lines. Izzy hisses and pushes his ass towards me. Smiling, I carefully push his cheeks apart and kiss his tightly puckered hole. He moans and wriggles, trying to force himself onto my tongue. But I'm not letting him, not just yet anyway. He needs to take his punishment before he can have his fun.
"How many more do you think you deserve?" I ask.
His shoulders shrug a little and I have to hold myself back from bending him the rest of the way over that table and fucking him senseless.
"As many as you think I deserve, sir," comes the hushed voice.
Standing back, I admire him for a moment. The arched back and gentle swell of his bottom make me just want to crawl onto my hands and knees and worship him all night. I could stay there forever, just making him feel good as I let my hands wander over him. He's so beautiful, so perfect. I can't see why anyone would want to harm this man. Yeah, he may have gone behind my back and written letters to the bastard but I will never, ever lay a finger to him in that way again. I'd rather kill myself then ever see him cry in pain again. Tears of laughter? Yes. Tears of passion? Yes. Tears of pain? No thanks. It'll just break my heart. He knows he's done the damage and he knows he's got to pay for it. But it won't be through pain and blood. It'll be through love and care, being in the arms of someone who'll never break his skin in anger.
Again I flick the cane at his ass, watching as he squirms and moans, the cane leaving a beautiful red line against his pale skin. I do it again and again, listening to the moans and pants that fill the air. His hands grip the edge of the table, his knuckles white. I know he wants to jack off, but he knows that if he so much as touches his cock then I'll torture him all night long. I'll tie him up and tease him until he can't take it anymore. Then I'll stop and do it all over again. Yeah, I'm evil but we love it.
Dropping the cane, I drop to my knees and pull Izzy away from the table. His eyes are dark and dilated and his forehead is beaded with sweat. Quietly he pants as I pull him into my lap. Then our hands and mouths are attacking each other, his pulling my clothes away from my body as I lie him on the floor. His legs lock around my waist as I push my tongue into his mouth. We'll probably stay like this all night, naked and making love on the lounge floor. True, unadulterated love; it's what my mother would have wanted.
Dear Izzy,
Where are you? I haven't heard from you in ages. You wrote a couple of letters then disappeared. What happened? Are you okay? Please write back. I miss you and I need you.
Love,
Bill
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