Se connecterEMERY BENNETT
“Willing to try anything?”
BigDom’s message comes when I’m already in bed. I’m yet to go through his profile. My hair is still damp from my shower, so I rest it against the headboard, pulling my knees up, I stare at the message.
This master chef has no idea how much of a novice I am. I’ve burned water trying to make noodles.
“Anything, really. I don’t want to limit myself.” I send back.
His typing bubble appears immediately. I find myself leaning towards the screen, eagerly waiting for his response. He’s basically my saviour and he’ll be doing this for free.
“That’s an interesting attitude.”
“Yeah, I’m a total novice. I do admit that I have a problem and you’re the only one that can fix it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all. But I’m willing to try. As long as you teach me.”
I bite my thumb as I wonder if I’ve put too much out there so soon. We’ve only just met and I'm putting the weight of my life in his hands.
“That’s alright. Everyone starts somewhere. What are you comfortable experimenting with?”
My heart jumps in excitement. He hasn’t run for the hills yet, that’s a good sign.
“I’d like to start with something simple before attempting anything complicated.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
I don’t know if I’ve disappointed him, but for some reason, I don’t want to disappoint this BigDom. He’s taken out his time to teach me how to cook. I’ve been around enough business people to know how valuable time is.
“Do you think I could handle something more advanced if you walked me through it?”
“You like it when someone walks you through it?”
“Yes please, I’m very good at following instructions.”
His response takes a few seconds to come in, and in the time I spend waiting for his response, my thumb clicks on his profile in an attempt to keep the screen from sleeping. My eyes nearly bug out of the sockets when I see a picture of a very, very broad back covered in tattoos.
“Holy shit.” I manage. My throat has gone bone dry at the sight.
His– assuming this back belongs to BigDom– skin is smooth, stretched over taunt bulging back muscles.
God.
My mouth waters, a flood of saliva filling my mouth. Every dip and crevice of muscle seems to call to me.
Back muscles have always made me weak in the knees. And this is the most beautiful back muscles I’ve ever seen. The man– hopefully, BigDom– is looking to the side, so it’s the shadow of his face that’s caught in the camera.
The intricate tattoos lining his shoulders, the running down the expanse of his back makes me want to trace it with my tongue.
They disappear somewhere the camera doesn’t capture.
Ding!
The notification sound of a new message from him snaps me out of it. I click out of his profile picture with my face burning with mortification. The man is here to help me, and I repay him back by lusting after him.
There’s nobody but me here to witness it, still, I feel incredibly embarrassed. Even more so when I look down at my pyjamas and find myself harder than I’ve ever been.
“I think we could establish your limits first,” his message says.
I try to ignore the boner in my pants.
“Oh, definitely. I’m not allergic to anything.”
This time when his response takes time to come in, I keep my finger away from his profile picture. It doesn’t help though, through the small circle beside every message he’s sent, I can see it. And I already got an eye full from earlier so I just have to blink to see it again.
“Ugh. not helping.” I groan, flopping down on the bed only to get smacked on the belly by my own hard cock.
I glance down at it, biting my lip.
Back in high school, you couldn’t pay me to leave the farm if I wasn’t in class. That didn’t leave much room for any socializing, much less exploring my own sexuality. I knew I was gay in middle school when I had a crush on Sonia’s boyfriend.
My family say they knew from before then.
They didn’t expect me to bring home any guy, at some point, they started to pay people to bump into me in hopes that I’d form relationships. I didn’t even go to prom.
In very short words, I’ve ignored this part of my body so much that I don’t know what to do with it.
“You don’t have a profile picture.” he finally sends back.
I did get the prompt for a profile picture, but I clicked on the skip button since I hardly have any recent pictures of myself on my phone.
I tell him as much that I don’t have any pictures of myself, and he asks me to take one now and send it to him. I get a thrum of excitement shoot up my spine in the way he’s asked for the picture.
“Take one the way you are right now and send it.” Very simple, very straight to the point, very instructional.
My dick also takes notice. There’s no reason not to do it. He’s helping me out here, and I think it’s fair he wants to see the person he’d be teaching.
Clearing my throat, i click the camera icon in the chat. In my reflection, I fix my hair, it’s still damp from the shower, there isn’t much I can do for it.
Raising the phone to eye level, then higher. I watch my dark hair, light brown eyes, on my bed in the fungus T shirt Sophia gave me for my birthday, and grey pyjama bottoms. I smile, popping both dimples as i take the picture for him.
I hold my breath the second it sends. He’s seen it.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous, why I want him to like what he’s seen. But I’m desperate for him to like it. I’ve heard that I’m good looking, not to toot my own horn. But this would be the first time I want someone else to find me good looking.
“Do not take care of that. I’ll do it.” he sends back.
Huh?
What does that mean?
I’m still pondering when he sends a picture back. A shocked gasp leaves me and my phone falls face flat against the bed.
Everything in my body takes notice of that picture.
Of BigDom in bed. Shirtless. His wide back has a wide chest to match. The tattoos that ran across his back, runs across his chest as well. His pecs are bulging, causing my cock to weep.
I pick the phone up again.
His hair is dark and long, messy like he’s run his fingers through it countless times. The man is gorgeous with sleepy, almond eyes. A mole sitting above his upper lip.
My hand disappears under the waistband of my pyjamas, circling around my hard dick. I’m staring into his dark eyes, and he looks at me like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
A small whimper escapes me when my fingers brush my sensitive head.
A new message from him comes in, an address, I don’t have to ask what it is because he answers the unasked question.
“Come here tomorrow. Three pm. Don’t be late for your first lesson.”
A bolt of excitement rushes through me.
“I mean it, Dimples. Go to sleep. I will know if you disobey me.”
My breath catches.
There’s something about the way he says it that sends a shiver straight through me.
I should probably be more concerned about meeting a stranger whose real name I don’t even know. Instead, I stare at his message biting my lip as my heart pounds.
Three p.m.
My first lesson.
I have no idea what BigDom has planned for me, but after everything he’s said tonight, I will be the most obedient student he’s ever had.
“What’s a sub… I don’t..” I clear my throat, feeling silly and good all at once, standing in his kitchen with my dick out and my come on the floors of his kitchen. It’s such a weird position to be. Never in my wildest imagination did I think this would ever happen.Much less to me.I’d never come so much, or so hard in my life. I mean, all the times I thought I blew my mind with my right hand was laughable in comparison to what he made me feel.He’d raises a brow at me, I’d like to say he was mocking me, but there was a gentleness about him. A gentle giant.“You really know nothing about sex, huh?”I feel myself burn and resist the urge to look away from his face. He’d asked me not to look away from him, and I don’t want to disappoint him.Instead of answering verbally, I shake my head at him. At twenty, I know most of my mates already had an impressive list of sexual experiences. While I spent all of my time in the farm, any of our farms.I’m more than embarrassed to say I’d relie
DOMINIC WHITMOOREJesus Christ.He’s a dream. His soft breaths, and whimpers that make it incredibly difficult to be sane as he tries to keep silent. The only reason I’m holding a knife is so I can be as close to him as possible. He smells so good too. A perfect mix of soft and earthy. Of course he thought it was a cooking app. He’s that innocent.It only makes me want to ruin him all the more, turn his little noises up a notch and hear him come apart for me.I do my best to keep from leaning into him too much.But it’s all too much. The hard planes of his back muscles pressed against my chest. His shampoo tickling my nostrils. I want to put my face everywhere his skin covers and taste every inch of him.However, I won’t do anything he doesn’t want me to do. As much as I want him, I need him to want this. Consent is important to me. Soft, yet calloused hands that would fit perfectly around my cock holds on to the knife with a loose grip. I know he’s considering it. I wa
My body rears back with a hiccup that lodges itself at the back of my throat. Of all the things I envisioned the whole day. Nothing compares to this.I mean, I spent hours picking out my clothes and then debating with myself if I needed a haircut. And the second he opened the door, I was sure I died and some magical, unreal person was opening the door for me.The man is all hard angles and very beautiful, steel eyes. In the night they were dark, in the daytime they’re the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.Still, I never imagined he’d… say that."What did you think the kink app was for?” he asks, the incredulousness rolling off his voice is impossible to miss.Another hiccup slips past my lips as I look around us. I rub my sweaty palms against my pants– one of the newer ones Sophia helped me pick out.“A kink app?” My voice has been reduced to a high pitched squeal. I can’t look him in the face. Mine is flaming, and I’m scared he’d know that I tried to touch myself to the picture of h
DOMINIC WHITMOORE “I won’t disappoint you, I promise.”I read the message three times, the way I’d taste a sauce I already know is good.Fuck.I told him not to touch himself. I told him I’d take care of it. And here I am on my bed with one hand wrapped around my phone and the other hand already inside my sweatpants.Hypocrisy has never felt this good. I’ve been at half mast since someone patient enough to guide me everything. The picture he sent finished the job.I pull it up again. Damp hair. A shirt that’s been washed soft. A smile that’s all nerves and no calculation, with dimples deep enough to rest a thumb in. His mouth is the red of a ripe raspberry.Every man I’ve trained arrived already plated, Dimples is a raw ingredient. Unseasoned. Nothing’s been done to him yet.I tighten my fist, then deliberately loosen it. A slow, clumsy rhythm. A beginner’s. WalkingDisaster isn’t a large man by any means. Under his shirt, I can tell he’s fit, f
EMERY BENNETT“Willing to try anything?”BigDom’s message comes when I’m already in bed. I’m yet to go through his profile. My hair is still damp from my shower, so I rest it against the headboard, pulling my knees up, I stare at the message.This master chef has no idea how much of a novice I am. I’ve burned water trying to make noodles. “Anything, really. I don’t want to limit myself.” I send back.His typing bubble appears immediately. I find myself leaning towards the screen, eagerly waiting for his response. He’s basically my saviour and he’ll be doing this for free.“That’s an interesting attitude.”“Yeah, I’m a total novice. I do admit that I have a problem and you’re the only one that can fix it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all. But I’m willing to try. As long as you teach me.”I bite my thumb as I wonder if I’ve put too much out there so soon. We’ve only just met and I'm putting the weight of my life in his hands.“That’s alright.
DOMINIC WHITMOORE“You need to get laid.”I glare at my best friend and raise the knife in my grip to eye level. He isn’t the least bit deterred. If anything, he rolls his eyes at me.“And you need to stay away from my kitchen.” I drag the tip of the knife over to the door, showing him where he could go.“I’m serious, it’s been what? Three months? That’s not a dry spell. That’s a death sentence.” he shudders, the look of horror in his eyes cannot be fake because Cameron, my best friend doesn’t believe in celibacy.The knife I’m holding slices right through the fish in front of me, and even as the sharp tip sinks into the fleshy delight, it doesn’t give me the sense of calm I’ve come to expect from doing this.This time, the spring curled tightly at the base of my spine curls even tighter.“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.” I grit out as the knife pushes through the flesh. The cut i make is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.With a slew o







