Dating Rules and Pretty Fools Chapter 24

Dating Rules And Pretty Fools – Ch. 24

By Laura S. Fox

Gay Erotica

Intended for Mature Audiences Only

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.

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Chapter Twenty-Four – How to Educate Your Dom

The elevator was out of order, so he took the stairs, climbing them two at a time. The exercise did him good, the ache in his muscles once he reached his floor a good indication that there was a lot he needed to work out of his system. After seeing Angel on the screen of Watkins's phone, his mind had become a nest of snakes. What was Angel's role in all of this? As he had suspected – one of the versions of truth he had examined on his way to `that room' – Angel appeared to be in cahoots with Watkins.

Those young men, the victims, had been prey for these predators. Some people were in charge, like Watkins and Keres, but someone had to be the hand that killed. Was that Angel's role in the organization? Hudson remembered quite clearly what great delight lit Angel's flawless face while roughing up Jasper on stage during the show Hudson had been asked to immortalize in pictures, the first test of his gullibility in a string of many.

Throughout his career, he had met many people who fell into the trap of believing that a beautiful face couldn't hide darkness behind it, while only average or ugly looking people could be, in their book, committing crimes. It was a common human fallacy; it had an explanation. And if anyone looked at someone like Keres, his face so akin to a character from a horror movie, they would immediately believe him to be as bad as they come. They wouldn't think the same thing about Angel for a moment. His physical beauty made the perfect cover-up.

Hudson preferred to keep his options open. Angel could or couldn't be the one in charge of the actual killing. One thing was certain, and it had been quite clear from the first moment he had laid his eyes on Angel. There was no way the guy was innocent, no way that he didn't know, at least partially, that his boss's dealings involved things that were beyond the sort of stuff BDSM clubs were usually known for.

But then, that night with the police raid, Angel had looked freaked out by something. Hudson wished he knew what that was; the guy had just proven his abilities as an actor, putting on a show for Hudson. He had looked every bit like a trapped animal, behaved like someone being kept inside a creepy room against his will, and yet—

Hudson rested his feet against a chair and tipped his head back, searching the ceiling for answers. Angel's performance in that room had been just that, a performance. He had acted as expected, from lying unmoving on the floor to the dramatic way he had thrown the half-drunk can of soda at the mirror wall.

And all the time he had had a phone with him. For the next part, Hudson closed his eyes. He'd been told, on more than one occasion, that he had an excellent memory, pretty much like a camera; he could remember details like no one could from those snapshots of flashbacks, things that had helped him a lot in his work as a detective.

Where had Angel kept the phone? At first glance, the room had appeared to be exceptionally bare, nothing on the floor, nothing on the walls. That wasn't entirely true. The wall opposite the mirror had a window, as Watkins couldn't wall that in or else the people in charge of the building maintenance would have taken notice. The window had been covered with heavy burlap curtains, but the sill...

Yes, now Hudson could see it. He reached for his camera to see if his memory served him well, as usual. He flicked through the pictures taken earlier in the afternoon and zoomed in. There it was, a thin flicker of silver, the phone case. Next thing, he focused on Angel's expressions. It was in the eyes, of course. There was no fear in them, no matter how twisted his mouth was in a snarl. His eyes were relaxed and now that Hudson saw it, he couldn't un-see it.

Angel was an element that fit in place. Whatever the thing that had spooked him during the night of the raid, it could have no connection whatsoever to the things happening on the dark side of Twinlight. The young man was a complicated fellow, after all.

The knock on the door took him by surprise. He smiled as he realized who it might be. Even the way he knocked was polite. This time, Hudson had no reason to tiptoe to the door and examine the person on the other side, as usual. He did it, nonetheless, part force of habit, part the anticipation of seeing Otis standing there, his face serene and void of any malice.

***

Hudson could very well be late from work, although that was a stretch since he didn't seem to keep regular hours like other people did. Otis had opted against sending a message or calling on the phone as he didn't want to meet with refusal again. He had read that people often had a harder time refusing something when face to face with the person asking them something than over the phone. In hindsight, he was surprised that door-to-door marketing wasn't still as big a thing as it had been in the past. Marketers preferred calling nowadays, even sending emails which were so easy to discard.

He must have been still wondering about the mysterious evolution of marketing when Hudson opened the door because the hint of laughter in his boyfriend's voice let him know he looked sort of weird.

"Where do you plan on taking me? To try some exotic food out? The kind with insects in it?"

Otis opened his mouth to deny any such thing and then remembered his decision to be as truthful as he could be with the man sharing his bed. "I was wondering why people who sell things now prefer emails and phone calls to door-to-door marketing."

"I see," Hudson said as if he really did understand where Otis was coming from with saying things like that. "I promised to take you out, so I suppose that is why you are here."

"No," Otis replied truthfully. "I am here because I do not intend to make the same mistake as other marketers today. I am here in person to invite you over. And you must sleep with me."

Hudson leaned against the door jamb and gave him a long look. Otis felt his skin prickling and his ears getting hot.

"Not like that," he protested. "I mean it as real sleep."

"If you really mean it like that, you disappoint me," Hudson said as he walked back into his apartment. He left the door wide open but didn't invite Otis in, leaving him to crane his neck to watch him. "Come on, let's go to your place," Hudson added as he came back.

Otis nodded shortly and walked in front so that he could open the door. Would Hudson believe that he was addicted to sex? Addiction was a stranger to him, in the sense that he didn't drink or smoke. He liked to buy his figurines and have a good night sleep, but that was the extent of things he believed he couldn't very well live without.

Sex with Hudson, however, was stronger stuff than his liking of tiny figurines and need for eight hours of sleep each night. As he thought about it, he felt his skin only growing hotter. It wasn't a thing he could hide, and Hudson was walking right behind him, which only meant that he was a first-hand witness to all of his embarrassment.

All those things went out of his mind the moment they were inside, because Hudson grabbed him and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I hope this is the main reason why you want me here, or otherwise I fear that I'm losing my appeal."

It was a joke. Hudson was good at joking, and Otis made a mental note to ask him later how it came so easily to him to say amusing things. Again, his thoughts were cut short as Hudson cupped one hand around his head and kissed his lips. Their tongues moved together, and it was a good exercise to forget about everything else. Maybe that was the reason why sex could be addictive. It took over your mind, and you became unaware of anything else.

Because it was with Hudson, Otis wasn't scared. His boyfriend made him sit on the bed and then climbed on it, holding him between his strong thighs. When he looked up, their eyes met. Hudson's dark eyes burned, making his skin burn even hotter.

Wild wasn't a word to describe him. He had never been like that, but there was a part of him that ached to be free. Otis put his impatient hands on Hudson's chest and grabbed at the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the hard chest underneath. He pushed them up in an effort to get his man out of the thing as quickly as possible.

"Ouch, I think you pulled some hair out there," Hudson said.

"I'm sorry," Otis murmured, although he was far from being any sort of sorry. He only continued to pull at Hudson's t-shirt until he gained access to bare skin.

Hudson took it upon himself to pull his t-shirt over his head and render himself naked from the waist up. Otis put his hands on the handsome chest again and pulled at the coarse hair with intention this time.

"You cheeky--" Hudson sucked in a breath as Otis went for his prize, a pert nipple that grew harder in his mouth.

Otis didn't protest in the slightest at being subjected to the same treatment. His shirt was pulled out of his pants and Hudson worked his hands up underneath it until he reached Otis's chest. They played with each other's nipples, as little thrills thrummed through both of them. Their bodies vibrated in synch. This had to be the sort of thing that meant they were compatible.

"I want to taste you, baby," Hudson said pleadingly.

With reluctance, Otis let go of the nipple in his mouth and fell onto his back. Hudson was an expert at taking him out of his clothes, but he worked with naked men all day long, so he had to be.

The question left his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. "Have you done this with your models?"

"Are you jealous?" Hudson asked and grinned as he unbuckled his belt.

Otis's eyes remained fixed on his boyfriend's moves. He was fascinated by everything Hudson did.

"Are you asking me if I taste them the way I taste you?" Hudson pulled at the belt slowly, freeing it from the loops of his jeans.

"In the past," Otis whispered. "That is what I asked."

Hudson held the belt in one hand and moved it slowly over Otis's chest. "Admit that you are jealous, even if just a smidge."

"But that is not done. Jealousy is petty, not pretty."

"Says who?" Hudson challenged him while moving the belt lower, letting it graze over Otis's now hard manhood and letting it drop even lower. He caressed the insides of Otis's thighs with it and then slapped one of them.

The slap didn't hurt; it was too soft for that, but it was sudden enough to make Otis jerk his body upright.

"What did you do that for?" he asked.

"You are very curious about the things on my wall. Do you want me to show you more?"

Otis only nodded, too taken with how Hudson moved the belt around, smacking it against his skin ever so lightly, to utter another word.

"You will have to tell me a word. A safe word."

Otis looked up. "What for?"

"So that I know if I'm going too far or too fast. Right now, I want to caress your lovely ass with this belt until you admit to being jealous."

"Is this like a game?" he asked, cocking his head to one side to give Hudson a good look.

"Yes, but it is a game between people who love and trust each other."

Love. Otis blinked one time. In movies and whatnot, the story ended with `I love you'. But he didn't want his story to end there, so he took that word, said so seriously by his boyfriend, and held it carefully as you would a small scared chick.

"I trust you," he said.

Hudson smiled and ruffled his hair with his free hand. "And for this to work, I must know that I can trust you. Safe word, my beautiful prince."

Otis looked around, his eyes falling on his collection. "Seahorse," he said without thinking twice.

"All right. Turn."

He did so without thinking twice and continued to remain silent as Hudson placed him on all fours and made him part his legs a little. In passing, he received a caress on his ball sac, but it was short-lived. His cock was hard now and Otis knew he desired to have sex with his boyfriend, but he had agreed to the game, and now he was curious about what would happen next.

Hudson rested his belt briefly on one of Otis's exposed buttocks and then gave it a sharp smack. As before, Otis jerked for a moment, surprised by the act. It should have been something to abhor, being hit, but he experienced nothing of the sort. Instead, he felt anticipation. He bit his bottom lip and hiked his butt back.

"What a lovely show," Hudson purred. "Do you really believe I would have eyes for another man when it is you I have in my bed? Presenting so beautifully like this?"

Another smack followed, prompting Otis to gasp in disbelief. Tingling happened in his lower belly, a different kind of want. He wanted more of that, and he wanted it harder. But if he spoke the truth, if he admitted he was jealous, what would happen then?

The game would be over, and he didn't want anything like that to happen. Not before he was beyond reason crazy with wanting for Hudson. So he said nothing.

"I see. You are quite the stubborn fellow," Hudson said, and he appeared to feel as delighted at the prospect of plying his belt some more as Otis was.

A series of smacks followed, no stronger than the previous one had been. Otis felt frustrated. He wanted more of it.

"Harder," he found himself saying.

"What?"

"Harder," he said through his teeth. "All you are doing is caress me with your belt."

Hudson made a further point by moving his belt around each buttock without doing anything else. "So, let me understand this. You prefer to be hit harder rather than admit your jealousy?"

Otis felt a little mean streak growing inside him. It scared him in its urgency and suddenness. "I feel nothing," he said. "You don't hit hard enough."

The following smack landing on his backside was stronger. At the point of contact with the skin, Otis felt a sting. So liberating, he thought, although he could feel it, and it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Still disappointing," he said slowly, as he remembered Hudson's earlier use of the word.

Hudson seemed to hesitate. Otis didn't look over his shoulder, although he wanted to. The following smack echoed in his small room, and he gasped. It hurt. But, at the same time, it felt good. It was punishment, and it wasn't. It was safe.

"More," he demanded, bracing himself for the next smack.

It didn't follow.

"I can't, Otis," Hudson said and sucked in a breath. "It's going to leave marks."

Otis felt tears pricking his eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"You can't mean it. It must hurt."

"It does, but it feels good," Otis said stubbornly. "Use something else, something that won't leave marks. Go back to your room and bring something."

"This wasn't supposed to go like this. You look like the squeamish type."

Otis ground his teeth. He'd heard enough.

***

Hudson was taken aback by Otis turning brusquely. His beautiful boyfriend had a new fire in his eyes.

"This is not fair. You started it."

In all honesty, he had expected to tease Otis a few times with the belt, never hitting him more than a couple of times. His boyfriend was the truthful type, and he had expected to find Otis admitting to his petty not pretty jealousy right away.

Instead, he had watched the flawless skin turn red under his ministrations, and it had taken him a moment or two to realize that he was going too far. And that Otis showed no intention of stopping him, but instead seemed bent on egging him on.

Otis grabbed his wrist hard. "You must finish it or I won't forget it."

"Wow, that sounds like a threat."

"And you like it," Otis added, seemingly deaf to his words.

The way his boyfriend grabbed him by the front of his jeans spoke volumes. Hudson had to admit that seeing Otis, prim and proper Otis, surrender to him like that, with no questions asked, enthralled him.

"All right," he said in a whisper. "But I'm going to use my hand only. And I'll use the safe word once I think it's enough."

"Not fair," Otis warned him with the same resolute look in his eyes.

Hudson raised one hand and caressed Otis's scar. "Not everything in life is fair."

To that, Otis replied by looking guilty. Hudson had a feeling there was some misunderstanding going on, but he wouldn't let his boyfriend withdraw from it. So, he threw the belt away and climbed on the bed, pulling Otis over his lap.

"No, not like this. I want you to watch me so that you know," Otis said and moved so that he could straddle Hudson. "Here. Smack me hard." He took Hudson's hand and moved it over his ass.

Their eyes locked, and Hudson obeyed the order. Otis's eyes grew wide, his eyelids fluttered, but then an expression of complete bliss flooded his face. Hudson watched the transformation happening under his very eyes, mesmerized by it. The sound of his hand slapping Otis's ass became a faraway noise as he put his all into it. And with each of the blows, Otis gasped and closed his eyes, and then he smiled, each time a bigger smile than the one before, until it seemed as if his entire face was nothing but a huge blissful expression of joy.

"Otis," he warned, as his groin ached.

Otis caressed his head and looked him in the eyes. "Would you like to fuck me now?"

Such dirty words coming from such a pure mouth. They weren't dirty anymore. Hudson growled low in his chest. "Have some mercy. Say the word, Otis."

Otis's grin turned sly. He leaned over to brush his lips over Hudson's mouth. "Seahorse."

***

He was on his back, with Hudson between his legs. His backside flared from time to time, as his now sensitive skin brushed against the crumpled sheets. The piercing rubbed against the tender spot inside his ass, and it was a maddening sensation. He wrapped his arms tightly around Hudson.

"I am jealous, I am so jealous," he chanted as his boyfriend fucked him hard. "I'm jealous of everyone who's ever been with you like this."

"You needed a red ass to admit it," Hudson breathed into his ear. "Damn, Otis, you feel so good."

"I can feel your piercing, it's so good," Otis said, grabbing the sheets with one hand. "Tomorrow, let's go tomorrow."

"What? What do you mean?" Hudson asked in a ragged whisper.

"To the place that allows us... no condoms..."

"Fuck, baby," Hudson growled into his ear and bit on the lobe, hard enough to hurt.

Otis liked it. He liked that kind of hurt, too. "Yes," he whispered, no longer caring whether it was the proper thing to talk like that. "I want you all inside me. To come inside me. Please, you are so good to me."

"Oh, fuck, you really know how to make a man crazy. Say it, Otis, say you want my cum inside you. I want to hear you say it."

So he said it, over and over, while Hudson thrust into him in short strokes, making Otis feel like the end was nearer with each of them. When they stopped, it only happened because they were at the peak.

"I'm afraid I love you, Otis," Hudson said suddenly, while locking eyes with him.

Otis felt raw happiness splitting his chest wide open. "Don't be afraid."

Hudson clamped his mouth hard over his, making him forget that the correct thing to say back was `I love you'. But their story wasn't over, he believed, and their bodies shook together until it made everything else that was real disappear.

***

Hudson held Otis in his arms, caressing his ass slowly and enjoying every moment the slender body in his arms trembled gently in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Yes, he could call it that. He hadn't expected to say those words, but they had just flown out of him, and he had no intention of taking them back. He felt empty and free, all in the best of ways.

"You know, that was pretty crazy, in anyone's book, I'd say."

"Because of the spanking?" Otis asked, his voice drowsy.

"Yes. I mean, it's not like it's the first time--"

"Hush, I don't want to hear about your other men," Otis ordered, this time sounding livelier.

Oh, but he was his little tiger. He was too innocent to realize how he sounded, and that made it absolutely perfect. "All right. I won't speak about others anymore. Not only in your presence. Anywhere else."

"That sounds extreme."

"And you're surely the guy to talk about extremes. You crazy little beautiful thing," Hudson scolded his lover, "what was that all about?"

"You mean, why did I want to be punished? It's... I needed it. I need it."

"Why would you need such a thing? I bet you've never hurt a fly in your life."

"That is true. But I did hurt someone else."

That sounded like a confession. Hudson held his breath, waiting for more to follow, but none did. "You'll tell me everything about it one day, won't you?"

"I will," came the promise.

They both had things they kept hidden. He wasn't one to talk, given what he was keeping from his boyfriend, someone he claimed he loved. He pulled Otis closer into his arms and kissed his head. Every bit was true; especially about being afraid. A curtain of red descended over his eyes as a transient thought crossed his mind – if anyone, ever, dared to hurt his Otis, he would kill that person.

Otis's soft groan let him know he was holding the other too tightly now. He released him and then let out one deep breath. "Now, tell me, my sweet boyfriend, where did you learn to order a dom around like that?"

"A dom? Like in a dom-sub relationship? I did read about such things," Otis admitted.

"I'm sure," Hudson purred. "And I bet you took an intensive course on how to educate your dom."

Otis looked like there was not one ounce of sleepiness left in him. He moved closer and stared at Hudson greedily. "Are there courses like that? Are they expensive?"

Hudson laughed out loud. "Only you would think of budgeting something like that with the intention of driving your boyfriend crazy about you. Don't worry about stuff like that. You're obviously a natural."

"Hmm, just like--" Otis stopped abruptly.

"Like?" Hudson asked, curious about the sudden stop.

Otis shook his head and rolled away from him. "Like my cooking," he said brightly, but it was obvious he was lying.

It couldn't be anything bad, Hudson thought. Otis was honest, and if he was keeping anything to himself, it had to be for reasons that were as innocent as they could be.

Of course, there was the story behind the scar, and that was something Hudson really wanted to learn about, not out of curiosity, but out of a need to remove all reasons for hurt from his beautiful boyfriend's life.

***

They lay on the bed, facing each other. Otis watched Hudson curiously as his man traced each of his facial features with his fingers. He seemed to take great pleasure in doing that, as if he was painting him.

"Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

"No, not always, but I've been told I have an eye for beauty." Hudson didn't stop.

Otis liked the way those rough fingers moved across his face. "You have many men like that posing for you."

"I promised not to talk of other men. How about being a good sport and avoiding the topic, too?" Hudson suggested.

"Of course," Otis hurried to agree. His courage from earlier was mostly gone. His ass was throbbing, too. He shifted a bit and pursed his lips.

"And now, you're starting to feel it, right?" Hudson said with a sly smile. "Do you have anything for the pain in here?"

"Only some aspirin. I don't budget for things that are not a regular need."

"As I imagined. Although I still suspect you of buying the most expensive course on the market to learn how to train your dom."

"I have done no such thing," Otis said. He regretted not having thought of doing such a thing, but he had no idea that there were courses like that. "And I don't believe I will ask you to spank me again soon."

"I'm just teasing you. I'll run to my place and come back with something a bit stronger than your aspirin. I want you to be able to sleep."

Otis nodded and watched Hudson getting dressed so that he could walk out of the apartment. He waited for a moment and then, driven by curiosity, he reached for Hudson's gun, stashed, as usual inside the drawer.

Now he knew a lot more about guns. He knew how to remove the safety and then pull the trigger. He raised one hand and pointed it toward the door, trying to recall the lessons from the shooting range. He almost dropped it when Hudson appeared in the door frame.

"Otis!" Hudson shouted at him and then grabbed the weapon from his hand. "Don't ever do that."

"I--" he started but quickly realized how it must have looked. "I'm sorry. I was just curious. The safety was on. But it's not safe practice to point a gun around like that," he babbled.

"Hey," Hudson said gently as he still held the gun in one hand, "it's okay. Do you want me to explain to you why it's dangerous? And you will have to promise that you will never touch my gun again. Ever. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand."

Hudson sighed and patted the place by his side. Otis moved there eagerly and watched as his boyfriend explained things he already knew.

"Now, listen to me closely. It is very important that you don't play with such things. It's why I'm keeping it close to me all of the time. But if that's a problem, I'd rather sleep at my place. When I go, my gun goes."

Otis nodded, feeling rightfully chastised. "Please, don't leave. I promise I will never touch your gun again."

Hudson pursed his lips and gave him a short sad look. "I'm sorry I bring such a dangerous thing here. I should--"

"Don't go," Otis pleaded and grabbed his arm. "It was stupid of me. Tell me what I have to do to keep you here, and I will do it."

"Your word is enough," Hudson said.

Even if he said so, it felt as if a wedge had been driven between them. Otis hated it, he hated that he had become so curious about guns. Not only he would never touch Hudson's gun, but he would never touch a gun again ever in his life.

He was surprised by Hudson pulling him close. His body was so warm against his. "Take the pill I brought you. Your ass will hurt a lot less. I need to remind myself that you can really surprise me sometimes."

"I will let you know about my intentions in advance from now on. This way, you won't be surprised anymore."

"Hey, don't make it sound like a bad thing. And in due time, we'll get to know each other well. Until then, surprise me all you want. For instance, you can surprise me with breakfast in bed."

That sounded like a good idea. The wedge wasn't there anymore. Hudson reassured him with a few kisses planted all over his face.

"There, that's your punishment if you prefer to call it that. Make me breakfast, and we're even."

"I will make you breakfast every day."

"Let's not turn me into the perfect feckless husband," Hudson joked. "I will make breakfast, too, at least from time to time."

"But you seem bad at it. You have other skills."

"Hmm," Hudson purred in his ear, "you surely make me feel like I know next to nothing. Tonight, you taught me how to dominate you, and I had a fairly good opinion of myself in that sort of role."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not about that. It was an incredible experience, and I won't forget it soon. Now, let's get to bed as it's getting late, and I believe we've had our fair share of excitement for a single evening."

"I agree. Are there any specific dishes you prefer for breakfast, lunch and dinner?"

"None whatsoever. I promise I will eat anything you give me. You're the best cook in my world."

Otis snickered. "Then your world must be very small."

"It doesn't matter how big or small it is, as long as you're in it."

TBC

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