Sweet Boy's Split Decision (11)

Nine

**DRIP**

I wasn't quite sure what to expect on Saturday afternoon when I arrived at Greg's apartment but I wasn't nervous or anything about it. It was probably going to be a fairly hard session but that thought didn't bother me. Not that it ever really did but, well, I wasn't anxious. I'm not sure how to describe not feeling something. Maybe it was because ever since we got back together, everything had felt very fragile.  It didn't feel that way anymore.

I locked the door behind me and went straight into the Den. Ah, he did have plans. There was a vinyl tablecloth upside down on the bed. It was nice of him to put me against the fuzzy side.  I had butterflies in my stomach and it wasn't because I was hungry, it was because I was about to become dinner. Granted, it could have been wax and I would've enjoyed that too but I had a feeling he was going to make good on his promise of turning me into a carnival treat.

I stripped and laid my clothes on the chair before getting into waiting. I took a few deep breaths and tried to clear my head. It was just about impossible. I was excited in every way there was and yes, I had to admit that I was a bit nervous too now that I was here and it was real.  I hadn't kneeled all that early so when my thighs started to scream and my neck got stiff,  I couldn't help but wonder why he was late.

"Good boy."  I almost jumped a mile. Where the hell had he come from? How long had he been watching me? "You've been very patient.  How are you feeling?"

I swallowed a few times but still worried that my voice was going to come out in a high-pitched squeak.  "Ff-fine Sir.  Fine.  Thank you." 

I heard a rustling and it sounded like he was picking up the tablecloth. That was disappointing.  He opened the drawer and I heard the door of the armoire open. It had a tiny squeak and I realized that I was calm enough to pay attention to it.  That realization helped me relax even more.  A blindfold slipped over my eyes and his hand wrapped around my bicep.  "Come with me" he commanded as he helped me to my feet.

I knew the layout of the apartment and I trusted him so it didn't take us long to get into what I thought was probably the dining area. We might have been closer to the kitchen.  I heard the tablecloth rustling and then he was standing in front of me and all of a sudden, I was in his arms.  I had to force myself not to throw my hands out and grab onto anything I could hold. It was very disorienting to be picked up when I couldn't see anything.  He moved a few feet and then he lowered me onto something hard; I was on the table or the counter but I couldn't tell.

"Relax."  A huge coil of what was probably rope was laid on my stomach. He wanted me to know I was going to be tied up. I bit my lip and tried not to moan too loudly.  "Be patient Princess."  He did my legs first, my thighs supported by the table and my feet hanging down. My ankles were wrapped and spread wide enough to give him easy access to anything and everything he wanted.  "Anything pinching?"

"No Sir."

"Good."  I didn't expect rope around the top of my thighs but I loved the feel of it. His hands and the rope were giving me goosebumps in all the best ways and my cock desperately wanted to play. He didn't touch me though, not a single time.  "I'm tired of this struggle." I had no idea what he was referring to because I wasn't moving. "We have been through this before and moved past this.  I'm not explaining this very well. You're forgiven. Completely. It's time to move on."

What had I done now? I tensed even though I knew that I shouldn't.  He snapped cuffs around my wrists and tied my arms down. I had 1 million things to say but I had no idea where to start or what would happen if I interrupted him.  I didn't want to stop the scene and he wasn't mad. I decided to let it go at least until later; maybe I could ask him afterwards what he meant.

"You finally look like you again."  I didn't have time to respond because something cold, maybe chocolate sauce, dripped onto my chest and made a line down my stomach, drizzling across the tip of my cock.

"Fuck Sir."  I wasn't sure if it was an exclamation or statement or me begging. I just couldn't stay quiet any longer.  I heard the can and then the spray and knew that the cold which was drenching my nipples and then the base of my cock and my balls was whipped cream.  It was all so cold.

And then I wasn't.  He took me down his throat like a pro and everything was forgotten.  I whimpered when he released me but then his tongue was on my balls, lapping at the whipped cream and then he was lower and everything blurred together into a huge explosion of need.  I had no doubt that I was making insane noises but there was no way I could stop.

His hands were on my thighs, his fingertips slipping under the rope and making them tighter before moving back up and sliding tightly over the head of my cock.  Something was pressing against me then and I relaxed so that I could take it in.  It hit my prostate perfectly and I stammered and pulled against the cuffs.  "Oh fuck please Sir." He turned it on and I couldn't help but uselessly buck my hips.

"Not yet."

I wanted to come.  NEEDED to come.  My heart was practically beating out of my chest and I was down his throat again, his tongue working magic.  "Please."

"I bet you taste as beautiful as you sound.  Don't you?"

"Yes!  Please Sir."

He lapped a long line up my chest, flicking his tongue at the chocolate sauce before wrapping his fingers around the base of my cock.  "Come, Pet."  And then I was deep again and he had me on the brink within seconds and shooting hard just a few seconds later.

"I was right.  You're delicious."