Doing New Year's Right
Jake thought he just might die, shatter into a million tiny bits of ecstatic nothing that’d be left free-floating all over the barn. Part of him wanted to end it right then and there, just strip off his jeans and jerk off, but most of him was trying to hang on, clinging to sanity by a short thread until he could make his careful way back to the house.
It was the butt plug, he decided. It was bigger than the first one they’d used, giving no relief even when he was standing still. Moving at all, to walk or to bend, sent sparks flying up his spine and made his balls tight. He was stretched and wanting, and he couldn’t think about anything other than the way his ass felt. There wasn’t room in his brain for anything else but the sensation of being filled by the silicon.
Unless it was the gauntlets. A week after he’d got them for Christmas he finally had them on, his arms wrapped in new leather from elbow to wrist under his work shirt. Yeah, it could be the gauntlets that had him on edge; the smell of the leather as it warmed on his skin, feeling the assorted buckles and D rings through the fabric. Imagining what Tor was going to do to him when he got into the house.
Jake leaned on the front wall of River’s stall and tried to catch his breath. It was the second time he’d forgotten to breathe, spots dancing in front of his eyes when he lost his head and tried to figure out what Tor had in mind. But it was hard not to try to imagine it, and Jake was well and truly primed.
He’d been making lunch when Tor’d dragged him off to the bedroom and stripped the shirt off his back. As sad as it was, Jake hadn’t really been with the game at the time, more or less bemused by the idea that he’d wear the gauntlets all day. He’d let Tor fasten them on and reached for his shirt, taken by surprise to find himself face down on the bed with his jeans around his knees. “Uh, Tor?”
“Don’t worry, Taggart. Got a plan.” And then slick fingers had pushed in quickly, efficiently. ‘Efficient’ wasn’t a word he often used for getting finger fucked, but apparently Tor wasn’t trying to get him off, just ready for the slicked up toy that Jake hadn’t even seen before he’d been filled up, the blunt tip skating over his gland before Tor settled it deep in Jake’s ass.
“A plan?” he’d managed to get out while his body caught up with what Tor was doing.
“Yeah.” Tor’s voice had been ragged, his hands wandering over Jake’s ass and back. “You… uh, you get up and go back to work. And after supper we’ll play, ring in the New Year right.” He sounded distracted, his fingers digging in here and there. “And you don’t come until I say. All day, Jake. You walk around like this… all day and then later we’ll bind your arms—oh Jesus—we’ll bind you up and—”
Jake had flexed his arms on the bed and shifted his ass a little higher in the air, rewarded by Tor going almost non-verbal.
“Jake. Oh, fucking hell.” Belt, button and zipper had been loud in Jake’s ear and then there was just Tor’s breath on the back of his neck and the restless movements of Tor stroking off over him. He must have been really close, desperate, ‘cause it was only a moment or two later when Jake’s back was covered in come and Tor was panting curses into his ear.
“Gonna kill me one day, Taggart. Do you have any clue how hot you look like this?”
At the time Jake had just grinned and waited for Tor to clean him up. Now, though… now he had an ass full of rubber, arms that were bound, and a hard-on that would cut glass. Now it was his turn for desperate and feeling dizzy with need. Now it was *really* time to get into the house and take care of a few things.
He crossed the yard carefully--couldn’t do it otherwise, really. The ranch was quiet, everyone gone to town or over to Kip and Beth’s, which was pretty much how Jake wanted it. No one around but Barkley, and Jake figured they could just close the door on him. Puppies shouldn’t see what was about to happen; Jake had a vague idea that exposing the dog to the kind of games Tor was playing would damage the poor puppy’s brain, and there was no fucking way he was paying for Barkley’s therapy. For now though, the dog could stay in the yard.
“Christ, I’m right here, stop yelling.” Tor was at the sink rinsing vegetables, but Jake barely registered it.
Jake advanced, still moving carefully. “So, when you said I can’t shoot until you say?”
Tor raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” he drawled.
“What happens if I go off?” He was undoing his shirt buttons, fingers fumbling. He had an idea that he should be a little embarrassed about how worked up he was, but he couldn’t seem to find any feeling other than a mind haze of lust.
Tor was watching him, eyes darkening rapidly. “I laugh at you, I guess. This isn’t about punishment or humiliation. You know that. It’s just about playing and having a bit of fun.”
Jake peeled off his shirt and held up his arms so Tor could see them. His ass was aching, the plug keeping him open, driving him nuts every time he shifted his weight. “We might have a problem.”
Tor immediately moved to him and grabbed his wrists to examine the gauntlets. “Cutting in? Too tight, too loose, hurting?” His fingers moved over the buckles quickly, ready to take them off.
“Nah, they’re fine.”
Tor stared at him. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking. I got no idea what you have planned, so I kinda had to make stuff up on my own. And I’ve come up with a few things.”
“I can tell,” Tor said with a leer, one hand reaching out to grope Jake’s erection.
“Touch me and I’ll blow,” Jake warned.
Tor grinned, but he didn’t touch. “You were saying?”
“Right. Thing is, if you want to tie me up these are great—I mean, there won’t be marks like the rope and reins made, and chances are if you had a strong enough system you could actually suspend me, though you’d need cuffs for my ankles if you really wanted to fuck me like that. Not sure if I’m into that, but it’s a thought.”
“Uh huh.” Tor seemed to have gone non-verbal again, staring at Jake like he wasn’t quite sure where to put himself.
“But if you’re not doing anything fancier than tying me to the bed—and don’t get me wrong, that’s way cool with me—there’s a limit to what you can do. You can bind my arms behind me, like this—” he said, reaching back and grabbing his opposite elbows with each hand, demonstrating, “—which is kind of cool. Kind of like an arrest thing, though a lot more fun.”
“Uh huh,” Tor said again, walking behind Jake and sliding his hands over the leather.
Jake shuddered as he felt the heat of Tor’s hand on his arms. “Or you can do the same thing in the front.” He moved his arms, clasping them in front. “Trouble with either of those is that you either have to pin me to a wall somehow or push me down. If I’m down I’m going to wind up face into the floor or the bed or whatever.”
“Unless you’re bent over the back of the couch or across the table,” Tor replied, his breath catching.
“Right.” Jake swallowed hard. “Bent over.” There was a short silence while he stood perfectly still, willing himself not to come. If he so much as twitched he was going to jostle that damn plug and fill his jeans.
“So…” Tor said finally, still behind him.
“Um. Yeah. The other thing is that you can fasten my arms together like this.” He turned around to face Tor, blinking when he realized that somewhere along the way Tor had peeled off his shirt and thrown it over a kitchen chair, and popped the top button on his jeans. He grinned, feeling a little lightheaded again, and clasped his hands together so his arms were lined up from wrist to elbow, bent up so his hands were in front of his face. “Can’t do much like this. Can only hang on and hope to hell that I live.” Like that, with his arms in front and the gauntlets joined he had limited motion, arms either bent up at the elbow or thrust out in front. He had a sudden image of Tor leading him like that, arms out with a leash on the top D ring, and he moaned. “Oh, shit. Tor—”
“Yeah.” Tor’s fingers were shaking as he did up buckles and clips, binding Jake’s arms together.
Jake heard a whimpery noise and it took a moment before he realized it was him. “Fuck me,” he whispered.
Tor growled and spun him around, pressing up against his back. “Right here. On the floor. Your ass high, you on you knees and balanced on your elbows.”
Jake groaned and pushed back against Tor’s hard prick. “Tor, gonna—oh God!”
Tor’s hands fought with Jake’s jeans and Jake shook, heat slamming through him as he started to come, his knees giving out as the first wave crashed over him. Tor went with him, forcing his jeans down to his knees as they landed on the floor.
Jake kept coming, unable to do anything but shudder as he shot onto the floor and Tor’s hands. “God, oh God, oh God—”
Tor growled again, teeth digging into Jake’s shoulder, then his back, and finally his ass as he tugged at Jake’s boots and jeans, stripping him down. When Jake was naked, still shaking, Tor buried his face in Jake’s ass and licked around the plug, setting off another short orgasm before the first one was done.
Jake cried out, trying to balance on his bound arms and spread his legs at the same time. He was still hard, still needing, unable to think about anything and not in full control of any part of his body. “Tor. God, Tor, fuck me. Now, need it now, fuck me.”
Tor tugged at the plug and Jake pushed a little, just enough to get rid of it, and found himself feeling empty, desperate. “Please!”
“No lube,” Tor said, his hands hard on Jake’s hips.
“Don’t care, don’t care, just do it!”
“Do it!” Jake insisted. “There’s some from the plug, I’m open, just… fuck. Do it.” He really didn’t think it would hurt, and part of him kind of hoped it did, which was something to think about later. Right now all that mattered was that Tor had come to his senses and was pushing in, not too slow, making it feel right. Full. Hard and long and so fucking perfect that Jake groaned and swore and pushed himself back, impaling himself on the one perfect thing in the universe.
“Christ,” Tor ground out. “Jesus Christ.”
Jake couldn’t make words. He tried to keep himself from smashing his face on the floor and just went with it, rocking back every time Tor thrust into him, begging with his body. He wanted faster and harder and Tor finally gave it to him, slamming into him with enough force that they were moving across the floor until Tor grabbed his hips and pulled him back, back right onto his lap until Tor was fucking up into him, holding him close.
When Tor bit into his shoulder again Jake cried out, pulling at the gauntlets and trying to free an arm so he could jerk off. “Oh God,” he moaned, the leather restricting him and sending him into a near frenzy. “Touch—Christ, touch me. Please.”
Jake swore and thrashed, grinding down onto Tor’s cock. “Please.”
“Fuck! Tor, please! Need it.”
“Always. Need you, need this, need you to fucking touch my prick!”
Tor made a sound that might have been a chuckle if he’d had any breath and finally grabbed Jake’s dick, jerking him off fast and hard.
Jake screamed and came again, Tor’s cock rubbing his prostate and his calloused hand scraping over the head of his prick.
And then Jake was facing the floor again, pretty sure he was too boneless to balance and equally sure that he looked like an utter slut with his ass so high in the air, but it didn’t matter ‘cause Tor was plowing into him again and again until he finally froze, completely silent as his cock swelled and throbbed, filling Jake’s ass.
Jake’s world grayed out and faded away.
When he opened his eyes he was still on the kitchen floor but the gauntlets were off and Tor was wrapped around him, arms like tight bands on Jake’s chest. “Hey,” Jake said weakly.
“You scared the crap out of me,” Tor said, taking the sting out of the words by dropping a kiss onto Jake’s nose.
“You passed out.”
Jake grinned. “Yeah? How long?”
“Few minutes. If you hadn’t been breathing so nice and steady I would have panicked.” Then Tor smiled at him, the slow and easy smile that Jake knew meant a long night of making out. “You liked that, huh?”
“Could say.” Jake looked up at the ceiling. “We should get off the floor.”
“Yeah. Have some supper. Still have to ring in the New Year, too.”
Jake whimpered. “I’m too old for this.” But Lord, he was glad he had it.
Sometimes love is complicated.
Copyright 2016 Chris Owen