Private Relations by J.M. Hall Read Free Book Online Page B

blue eyes like two flames that were burning into me. I could see him gazing at my body, securitizing every inch.  
    “Like you what you see?”
      “Your body is still changing,” he’d said, then ran a hand over the dusting of hair on my chest. “I like it.”
    I blushed, averted his gaze. Bobby leaned down, pressed a kiss to my forehead before nuzzling my chest. He’d circled his tongue around my nipple before grazing it with his teeth.
    “Ouch!”
    “That’s what you get for being fresh,” he’d teased. “Now, onto other things…” He kissed down my stomach and took my cock into his hand. A few strokes, a few squeezes, and then he took the tip into his mouth and sucked. Inch by inch he’d taken me into his mouth, until he’d all but swallowed me whole.
    I’d lasted five minutes tops before I came in his mouth.
    He swallowed, brushed one last dab of semen from the corner of his mouth. Mischief glinted in his eyes, and it was at that moment I knew he had something devious in mind. He slid out of bed, stripped naked. But instead of rolling me over onto my stomach, he’d reached into the drawer and took out a ribbon of black silk.
    “I need to keep you still,” he’d said. “Give me your wrists.”
    I did as he asked. He tied my wrists to the headboard, all but rendering me defenseless. Then, he crawled back into bed, and began to stroke his cock at a quickly accelerating pace.
    “Close your eyes,” he’d said. “This won’t take long.”
    I may have been young, but I knew what he had planned. I shut my eyes, let a few moments pass -- and then it happened. I felt the hot bursts of semen hit my face, the smell filling my nostrils as the thick rivers ran down my face and dripped over my mouth. I opened my mouth, ran my tongue over my lips for a quick taste. Salty and bitter, just like I’d read online.
    “Hold on.” More fumbling in a drawer, then the soft dab of cotton across my eyes. “All right, you’re good.”
    I opened my eyes, saw Bobby straddled atop of me: his face flush, sweat beading down his brow, his still-erect cock resting atop my chest. He’d gazed at my face as if it were a work of art, something he’d created himself. I wanted to reach out, let him hold and kiss me, but my wrists were still tied to the headboard.
    “Untie me,” I said. “I don’t like this.”
    Bobby tore the silk off my wrists, alarmed that he’d crossed a boundary and was in danger of losing me again. I got out of bed, walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I stared at my reflection in the mirror -- the semen still wet and shiny across my cheeks -- and felt like Jenna Jameson after a long day’s work. I filled the sink with water, splashed my face clean. Bobby knocked at the door, asking if I was all right.
    “I’m fine,” I’d lied. “Just a sec…”
    A few more splashes of water across my face, and I’d finally washed him off of me. Yet at no point did I tell him I wanted to leave. Instead, I’d opened the bathroom door and told him I just wanted to go to sleep. He took me into bed, pulling me close against his body. No matter what he did, no matter how many boundaries he’d crossed, I couldn’t leave.
    Even when he’d treated me like a sex object -- even when he’d crossed boundaries that no adult should ever cross -- Bobby had done something no one had done before. He’d made me feel wanted. Needed.
    Loved .

 
    Chapter 9

 
 
 
    I’d never been more grateful to go to work.
    When Monday morning rolled around, I was no different than anyone else in New York City. We crowded into subway cars, stood inches (if not centimeters) apart, keen on avoiding eye contact at all costs en route to our destination. Whether it was an iPhone, a Kindle, or even an old-fashioned newspaper, mankind had no shortage of ways to avoid actually speaking with one another.
    Escorting paid well, though it wasn’t lucrative enough to be a full-time job. To supplement my income, I was a