Dean Walsh was happy with his new life, his job, his girlfriend. Until his boss, billionaire Salomon Ellis, discovers his darkest secret. From then on, he will hold Dean hostage to his whims in exchange for his silence.
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It was a weird weekend. Steph kept playing offended about the shower fuck, waiting for me to come around, basically because that was the way it'd always been. And I kept ignoring her, giving her plenty of opportunities to come around and prove she loved me enough to put her pride aside one damn time.
She didn't. Me neither.
Knowing she'd be out most of the day again on Sunday, I decided to spend another night in the couch. I'd take the bed over the moment she left for the food bank. But first, I had to make it to Sunday morning.
Being so used to have sex once or twice a day, every day, my cock resented the lack of action. I tried to ignore it. Like it was so easy. I'd almost made it when I found myself lost in yet another prison dream involving Big Ellie. It was late night, after lights off. I was locked up in a solitary confinement cell, standing face against the door, hands up handcuffed to the doorframe above my head, pants halfway down my buttocks, my hard cock hanging out the slot in the door they used to bring you food or handcuff you before letting you out.
There was someone at the hallway, right behind the door, stroking my cock in no hurry with a firm fist that could only belong to another man. I couldn't see him, but I knew it was Big Ellie. I couldn't tell if he was using oil, but he had me like he used to in room twelve: painfully hard, breathing heavily, sweating buckets, moaning, dying to come. And begging as usual.
"Please!" I groaned, humping against the door to thrust into the slot and the fist on the other side. "Let me come!"
"Do you really wanna come?" he asked directly in my ears, like I had earphones on. His thumb rubbed the back of my cock, making my thighs shake.
"Yes!" I cried, wishing the door would disappear to hump further into his fist.
"Then you know what you have to do."
"Oh, fuck!" I mumbled, because, in my dream, I knew what he meant.
I rose my hands and managed to take half a step back to bring my cock in and turn around, which twisted the short handcuff chain and pulled my hands higher. I stuck my back to the door, pretty much sitting on the slot. His hands slid from my hips down my sides, pushing my pants past my thighs before grabbing my buttocks.
"I can't come like this!" I whined.
"Sure you can. You already have."
To my utter shock, his fondling my butt got me even harder. So much, I soon found myself trying to lean forward, which gave him better access to my buttocks, which made me harder, and so on, especially when his fingertips sneaked into my crack and rubbed my butthole. That made me moan and shudder
Needless to say I woke up in the middle of the night to an epic boner, despite my racing heart out of sheer horror. I got up still punting, sweaty and upset, and grabbed my phone to check the time on my way to the kitchen.
