Chosen Boy [7] bxb Bdsm

Twelve

"I want you naked, to start. Other than that, I seem unable to make a decision of any kind for some reason.  I'll need supplies."  He got up rather awkwardly and I belatedly remembered the boot on his ankle. 

I suddenly didn't know if my offer had been such a good idea; I didn't want to hurt him or more likely make him hurt himself.  We'd probably both feel better though afterwards; maybe it would help him settle.  I stripped out of my boxers and then just stood there, waiting.  I wasn't sure if I should stay out here or go into the Den.  He came back pretty quickly but just stood in front of me. I had no idea what to do when he wasn't ordering me around. That wasn't quite right but this was sex and it just felt weird to not be immediately told where and how to be.

"I've never played while injured to this extent. Or when my boy was."

Unsure Greg was a treat and maybe this blurry thing had even more benefits than I had realized.  I knew I should tell him that it was 90% better but that could wait until the morning.  For now I was going to enjoy him being close and push the envelope a bit. He really was hurt though and I wanted to help. "Could I undress you Sir?  Or help?"  I was being polite, right?

"Yes, go ahead."

He only had his soft pajama bottoms on so he could have managed but I was glad he hadn't tried. I made it worthwhile for him, I hoped, by taking him into my mouth after he'd stepped out of them. He put one hand in my hair but didn't say anything or stop me so I enjoyed him a minute, enjoying the small bit of power in getting him hard.

"Den, Pet. I need to be there."

I got that, it was more normal. I sort of hummed my response and released him before standing and following him. He paused again in front of the bed and I almost thought he might scrap the whole thing and just go into his room. This was one thing that shouldn't have been difficult after the weekend we'd had. This was supposed to be easy and good and us. "Could I ride you Sir? I've missed you."

He didn't answer, just handed me the condom. He was right that it was a much easier job two-handed. He was so out of his element. Maybe we should have waited a few days until he felt better but his shoulder was going to be messed up for weeks most likely; he'd had surgery after all. I'd be better in a few more days or a week at most but he was going to take much longer. I carefully got him dressed and he handed me the lube. Why was this so intimate after all we'd done? Probably because it was new. I wondered if it was bothering him but there wasn't much of an option.

"Chair or bed Sir?" There'd be more room on the bed but I could make things work if he needed the support of the chair. He sat down on the edge of the bed and I tried to be graceful but that man is big and it took me a few minutes to get situated. He didn't push, he didn't really say or do anything. It was weird; the whole situation and the entire weekend had been weird. I was starting to get it. It was starting to add up to me even though it had been bothering Greg for days longer. "Whatever you want Sir, whatever you need."

I expected a 'quick and rough' answer or something similar so his question surprised me. "Can you take me for a little while Pet?"

"Yes, yes Sir. You want to last?"

"I need to enjoy you awhile. Put your hands back on my knees or legs. There you go." His free hand slid down my chest, toyed with my cock and made its way back north. "I don't know how to pleasure you. I don't know what you're feeling. I don't wish to bring you unintended pain."

I rocked slowly as his words sank in. "You feel good. I love when you touch me but maybe for tonight gentle is best?"

"Very well. Even toppy dom can do vanilla now and again."

I chuckled, then took him deep and didn't have the air to spare. "Damn Sir, you feel amazing."

"Not as good as you do, Pet. Go ahead, enjoy." His voice was odd, forced but also quiet but honestly I didn't pay too much attention. He looked okay, I could see him fairly well this close up. Everything looked as if I was wearing really dirty sunglasses or looking through a thin curtain and I had two really blurry spots in my right eye but if I closed that one I could see him down to the cut on his cheek which I'd never noticed before. I couldn't see his stubble but I knew it was there and I smiled, remembering.

His hand starting stroking me perfectly and I sped up without thinking about it, the slow simmer building as the fire got hotter. We were both going to burn and I couldn't have been more happy about it. He came with two small thrusts up against me, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips and I let myself fall too.

"Stay there, I wish to put my head on your shoulder."

I froze, finally forcing my mouth to close as he rested against me. His face was turned away from me and his hair tickled my neck. I had no idea what to do so I just waited, my hands still back on his knees. I wasn't going to interrupt this. And then I heard a sob that he didn't quite manage to keep silent. I started practically panting, the thought of him hurting made me so upset that I couldn't help it and I knew I needed to stop because he might notice but I couldn't. Poor Greg.

"I'm sorry" he choked out later.

"Don't be Sir, it's fine."

"It's just too much."

Of course it was. "I understand. It's just a meltdown, it's okay. Would you like to throw a pillow?"

He actually smiled a bit but it was a quick, sad one. "I need to go to work tomorrow. Michelle is out on maternity leave and they need me. I can't do surgery; I won't be able to for six to eight weeks and my schedule is completely destroyed. I need to replace my car and deal with the insurance company. I can't DO anything" he moaned. "I can't paint or play or hardly take care of myself. I need time alone but no one will give it to me and you need my help. Mom is worried about dad; his memory is quickly deteriorating. I can't sleep. I'm so damn tired and I just can't sleep." He picked his head up but still didn't look at me. "Up you go. I will handle myself if you can manage to get cleaned up?"

"I can Sir, that's fine." I felt bad because I honestly hadn't given any thought to how much MORE his life was fucked up from this wreck than mine was. Add in that change and volatility is 10 times harder on him and no wonder he was completely overwhelmed. He turned back towards me and I gasped, I just couldn't help it. "Oh your hair Sir." It was adorable.

"Do I resemble a cockatoo?"

"Not the word I would have used but um, yes?"  Now that I had noticed the disarray it took every ounce of willpower to not reach up and smooth it down.

"I should just shave it. It would be easier for the next few months."

"NO!" I screeched, then covered my mouth.  "I'm sorry, it's your hair.  It's totally... oh but I love it Sir."  The hypocrisy of me bitching was not lost on me.

"Fine, then you fix it."

"I'm not sure I can see well enough to" I answered truthfully. The bigger part of that was uncertainty as to whether or not it could actually be saved.

"I'm just going to bed. There's no one else in the house but us and I can't see it at all.  If it is good enough for you, it will work, will it not?"

He had a point.  He tilted down and I reached up and brushed it off his forehead and to the side like he normally wore it.  It was better.  "Anything else I can do?"

"No Chris. Good night."