He grins. “Feels good then?”

  I nod, words being difficult as he moves his other hand to cup my balls. I throw my head back, closing my eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over me, it’s a little too much to watch his movements but I’m panting as he speeds up.

  “I’m getting close,” I warn.

  “Good.” He squeezes and jerks his hand. I thrust myself upwards into it a few times before it hits me; I make the strangest noise I’ve ever made and lose all control of myself. Come lands on my belly as I gasp for air. He strokes my erection as it subsides.

  “Enjoy that?”

  I open my eyes to see him smiling at me. “Yes,” I murmur and close my eyes again, just for a moment. It’s such an intense whole-body experience, a million times better than jerking myself off, that it’s a few minutes before I can think properly, during which he cleans me up and unchains me. He climbs into bed, still fully clothed, and holds me.

  “Thank you,” I say resting my head on his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for that. It was incredible.”

  His chuckles caress my ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but that was just the beginning.”

  “So what's next?” I ask. “Not that I’m ready for anything right now, I feel like I’ve been turned into jelly.”

  He kisses my hair. “Well this afternoon, when you’ve solidified, I’d like to tie you to the bed the other way up.”

  My body stiffens. “Oh.”

  “Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”

  “I’m not sure, just an ‘oh’, I think. Is that allowed?”

  He squeezes me. “Of course it is.”

  “Will you umm…”

  “Penetrate you?”

  I nod against his chest.

  “I’d like to try a finger if I may? I’ll leave you officially a virgin until I get you on the St Andrews, if that’s still what you want?”

  I shudder at his words but I’m still tingling all over, too blissed out to get worked up.

  He kisses my forehead. “Don't decide yet, wait until after lunch. And you can help me cook unless you want something bread related again.”

  I mumble that I will and settle against him, my satisfied body too relaxed to do anything other than doze in my lover’s arm.

  ***

  Well we did have something bread related: I now know how to bake honey and rosemary soda bread thanks to Ash’s surprising talent, and even have some of the loaf left over to toast for my weekday breakfasts. His enthusiasm for baking surprises me, he talked me through it step by step as if I’d want to repeat the process myself but I’d much rather watch him potter around my kitchen, looking for possible ingredients and wrinkling his nose at some of the more out of date items, than I would do any of the work for myself. He’s a different person when absorbed in baking, but adorable in any context and the more I learn the more I like.

  I’m both relieved and excited to see how confident and assertive Ash is in the kitchen. A lifestyle sub is too much responsibility for me; outside of the bed and play rooms I’m looking for an equal partner in life.

  Have I found him? I’m not sure. Watching him let go this morning left me overjoyed and aching for more, but now, running my eyes over his naked body as I chain his ankles back into the restraints on the bed, I’m wondering if all this is a little too much too soon. He insists that it isn't and that he’s being honest. We’ll see.

  “Happy?” I ask.

  He nods the side of his head against the pillow. “Happy. I’m still not sure about...you know, but I like how this feels.” He wriggles against his restraints and I catch his smile at the noise I make in my throat. The chains are tighter now, getting closer to tautness of the St Andrews: He needs to be ready for that, it would break my heart if he freaked out in the playroom, it’s weird but somehow my bedroom seems less intimate. I place my hand on his back and he jolts.

  “That was a good jolt in case you’re wondering,” he reassures. I kiss the base of his neck and he sighs.

  I take my time over relaxing him, massaging his limbs until his breathing is peaceful and even. Only then do I run a hand up and down his spine, getting a little closer to his buttocks each time. I’m teasing him, but also watching his body and listening to his breathing for signs of tension. My little finger brushes the top of his buttock crack and he exhales. I rest my hand on his buttocks and look at his face, it’s calm. “That tingles,” he smiles dreamily.

  Still watching his face, I slide my finger into his crack and touch his anus.

  “Uhh!” his face spasms.

  I hold my finger there. “Good uhh or bad uhh?”

  “I… don’t know.”

  “Just relax, I’m not going to penetrate you just yet.”

  “Oh…every time you say that word…”

  “What, penetration?”

  He nods, his cheeks going a shade pinker even though someone's already touching his most intimate place. His innocence makes me glow with a desire to both protect and merrily debauch him at the same time. I grin, “I’m just going to do this for a minute, let me know if it bothers you.” I massage his tight little bud.

  “Oohh...”

  “Now I know that's a good oohh.”

  He nods, “Mmm hmm,” and I push a little harder. Then I back off with the pressure and he pushes his backside up to meet me. Oh yes. He senses that I’m about to breach him and lowers himself quickly but I push down and wriggle my fingertip, popping it just inside.

  He gasps.

  I wriggle my finger again.

  He moans happily.

  Leaving my fingertip where it is I reach around with my other hand to grab the bottle of lube. I withdraw the finger, squeeze a generous amount of lube on it, then put the bottle down and stroke his back with my dry hand. He’s perfectly still now apart from his pretty little bud which twitches as a drop of lube lands on it from my wet finger.

  “If you want me to stop, just say so.”

  “OK,” he whispers and I push my finger into him.

  He’s tight and hot and I can feel his muscles spasm at my intrusion, the sensation drives me crazy but I hold my finger still and let him get used to me. Only when he wriggles his body and pushes upwards again do I plunge deeper, feeling for my prize. He gasps as I find it, lightly brushing his prostate. I brush it again and he moans, “Oh that is amazing.”

  I lean forwards to kiss him on the neck while fucking him with my finger, he writhes and it’s incredibly sexy: The way his strong body moves around the centre point of the finger buried inside him, his movements limited by my chains, the pinewood of the bed posts creaking with his joy. I can only imagine what it will be like to get him on the St Andrews or suspended from the ceiling.

  I withdraw my finger and he huffs, I peer at his face to see he’s actually pouting. So cute.

  I squeeze fresh lube onto my finger and slide it back in, a little rougher now that he’s opened up. He groans and to my delight starts rubbing himself on the bed sheets.

  “That's it, work yourself off,” I say and resume finger fucking him.

  He buries his head in the pillow and I know it's because he’s embarrassed to be dry humping my mattress but his movements speed up.

  My free hand goes to my cock at the sight. I move to the base of the bed in case he looks around. I undo my belt while continuing to finger fuck him. His breathing is ragged and I stroke myself in time to his movements. A sexy sheen of sweat appears on his back at his effort, I shove my finger in as deep as it will go and grasp myself tighter, he shudders and thrusts hard against the bed. At the sight and sound of him coming I let go as well, gasping as I come onto the end of the mattress.

  I tuck myself back in quickly while he recovers.

  It’s a minute before he lifts his head. “Wow.”

  I untie him, unable to keep the grin off my face.

  “Wow.” He pulls his limbs in groggily.

  I get into bed and kiss his forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Hey, did you get off as well? I thought I heard...”

  “How could I not at the sight of you like that?” I pull his sticky body against my shirt.

  “I wish I’d seen you.”

  No you don't. I give him a passionate kiss on the mouth, and by the time we come up for air he’s forgotten what we were talking about.

  I cuddle him in the sticky mess he’s made for me, keeping it warm. I suppose I’ll have to get us both cleaned up and change the sheets soon but I’m in no hurry. His eyelids are drooping; neither is he.

  Chapter Six

  I drive to work Monday morning with an all-pervading sense of satisfaction and smugness permeating every part of my body after my lazy weekend with Duncan. Saturday was amazing and Sunday just as good.

  We did the same thing on Sunday, front and back with the chains a little tighter, on Sunday afternoon he got two fingers inside me. I can still feel it now, that I’ve been stretched, but it’s not painful: It's nice. A reminder.

  So, I feel good even as I sit in the queue of traffic on the A14, great in fact.

  But not for long…

  “Shit, oh fucking shit,” Chole says as she emerges from the boss's office.

  We had the bombshell dropped on us in a morning meeting: Our branch of the company is closing down, and staff were either being made redundant or offered a place over at the expanding Bedford branch. We’d all known the company had been cutting costs lately, but no one was ready for this.

  “They don't want you?” I ask her.

  “They do, and they offered me a raise, but it's just too far to commute. I don’t see enough of my kids as it.” She sighs, “I’m going to have to look for something closer to home, even if it means taking a hit on pay. Anyway I hope they offer it to you instead, it was a good position.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got no chance,” I say, my stomach hollow. “My performance has been abysmal lately.”

  Twenty minutes later I’m called in, and my fears are confirmed by the boss, “I’m very sorry Ashley, but we're letting you go.”

  I’m so numb I don’t actually hear anything else she has to say and I’m fairly sure it's all just meaningless platitudes anyway. All that time my parents were suffering I forced myself to go to work, clung on to this stupid job, and all for nothing. I am working until the end of the week, she tells me, then that's it. I never expected it could all come to an end so suddenly.

  I drive home in a daze and slump onto the sofa. What would my parents think of me now? Not much.

  I don’t feel like eating so just sit there staring at the wall until my phone buzzes in my pocket. I dig it out. It’s Duncan. We’d agreed to have a day off after such an intense weekend and see each other again on Tuesday but I remember him saying he’d call. I don't know if I want to talk or not but my body swipes to answer without me.

  “How’s you?” he asks in that gentle Scottish accent I adore.

  I can't even answer him.

  “Ash?”

  “I…”

  “C'mon, whatever it is just tell me.”

  So I do.

  Afterwards he asks, “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll be right over with food.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then you can save it for later but I’m on my way now.”

  My place is a mess so I spend the next twenty minutes on a desperate cleaning spree. By the time he knocks on the door I’ve at least got it from village tip to average bachelor pad.

  He opens the door with a smile and an armful of food. “Congratulations,” he grins.

  “Err… What?”

  “You hated that job, right?”

  “I didn’t hate it, and it was a job.”

  “But you were bored, I could hear it in your tone whenever you talked about it.”

  I frown at him. “Yeah it was dull at times, but I wasn’t being paid to have fun.”

  He finds a patch of free space on my coffee table and sets the food down. “What if you could be paid to have fun?”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “OK, what if you could be paid to have at least a little bit more fun than you were having in your old job, and this is your chance to go for it?”

  “Go for what?”

  He shrugs, “I don’t know, but you’ve got time. You got redundancy pay, right?”

  “Yeah, six months.”

  “So there’s no rush.” He kisses me. “And I’ll help you job hunt, when we’re not doing anything else.” He winks.

  I step away from him, hurt. “I worked so hard for that job and so hard to keep it, how can you treat it like a joke?” Treat me like a joke. I blink away tears.

  “Oh I’m sorry Ash.” He steps forwards and hugs me. “I’ve had several different jobs so it's normal for me to be in your position, but you have to see it as an opportunity.”

  He’s right, but the tears keep coming because I’ve just lost the one constant in my life for the past ten years: My work, my colleagues, the routine, all the things that keep me going, all gone now. Apart from Duncan. I cling to him and dry my eyes on his shirt.

  He squeezes me against his chest. “It will be OK, I promise. Now please try to eat something.”

  We sit down and tuck into the food. I’m hungrier than I thought I was once I start eating.

  “When do you finish work?” he asks.

  “Friday.”

  “Then let me take you away for the weekend. You’ve reminded me that I need to visit my parents more often so I was thinking of going up to see them, I’d love you to come with me.”

  “Umm…is that a good idea?”

  “They know that I’m gay. They don't know about the BDSM though, didn’t want to give them heart attacks.” He smirks, “Or ideas.”

  I smile. “I mean, would they be OK with us…um…”

  “Sleeping together?”

  I nod.

  “Sharing a bed will be fine, but I’ll warn you they impose a no-sex-outside-marriage rule in the house.” Duncan laughs. “It’s silly I know but since I’m certain there’s no marital sex happening either I’ve never really minded that much.”

  My mind is boggling. “So, do they enforce that rule?”

  “They don’t check up or me, no, but I’ve always respected their rules and they’ve always respected me. And they never did say anything about the garden.” He winks.

  I laugh, “Really?”

  “No, not really. Not yet anyway, but we’ll think of something. So you’ll come with me? Let me show you Campbeltown?”

  “OK.” I grin. “I need a break.”

  “All right then.” He kisses me. “We’ve just got to keep ourselves amused until then.”

  Chapter Seven

  It takes me two days to get over the shock of losing my job and begin to get my head together. I spend the first evening having a cleaning blitz in my house so I can invite Duncan round without shame. The next evening, he comes over and helps me work on my C.V. We end up kissing and cuddling on the sofa which does far more to lift my spirits than discussing job prospects.

  I’d promised to come over the following evening with a homecooked meal as his cupboards are depressingly bare of anything I’d consider edible. Cooking never fails to take my mind off all my other problems, especially bread making with its rhythmic kneading and slow pace, so it’s with a casserole dish of beef stew in my hands and a loaf of homemade sourdough under my arm that I knock on his door.

  He opens it with a smile.

  “I bring comfort food,” I say indicating the stew with my little finger.

  He kisses my neck and breathes in deeply along my collar. “Smells amazing.” He pulls back to wink then kisses me on the lips before breaking away to let me through.

  I take the meal into the kitchen and set it down on the table. I’m surprised to see that Duncan has stretched a red gingham tablecloth over the plain pinewood kitchen table and two candles are lit, casting a soft light around the room. I grin at him, “Trying to get me into bed or something?”

  He matches my grin. “Trying to get you on the St Andrew’s.”

  It’s lucky I’d put the casserole dish down or I’d have dropped it. I sit down heavily at the table. Tonight? I want it, I know I do, my yearning for the cross has been constant, even with the stress of the past two days my thoughts keep returning to it, but tonight?

  “Do you think my wicked plan to romance you will succeed? I know you’ve cooked the meal but those candles didn’t dig themselves out of the cupboard.” His eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

  “I... I’m not sure. I mean I am, but I might not be ready yet.” Will you ever be?

  “That’s fine, if you don’t feel like it tonight then we won’t. I can’t deny that I’ve been itching to get you on there ever since the weekend, but this needs to happen at your pace.”

  “I’m sorry,” I sigh, “This week’s been all about me, I should have known that you’d want to-”

  “Hey,” Duncan interrupts, leaning over to touch my face. “Don’t keep apologising for things that aren't your fault, I’ve enjoyed helping you out this week, it feels good to be needed.”

  “I just wish I could do something for you.”

  “Don’t worry,” he winks, “You do plenty for me and I’m not trying to push you, I just want you to know I’ve got it ready for you. Just in case.” He ladles a spoonful of stew onto my plate. “See how you feel once you've eaten.”

  He helps himself to a generous portion and we tuck in, but despite his casual words I know he’s far hungrier for me than for beef and potatoes. The thought makes my body tingle and my senses are heightened, intensifying the flavours as I chew. I imagine myself tied to the cross as he enters me, not long now, I’m going to lose my virginity soon. Tonight.

  I give myself time to get used to the idea, I’m still worried about it hurting but it doesn't frighten me anymore, not if it’s Duncan. I trust him.

 

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