The Brat Ch 13 - Under the Tree

The lights of the Christmas tree and seasonal decorations were the only illumination in the room as we sat next to each other on the couch.  I was already down to my underwear and he had taken off his shirt.  My head on his shoulder I ran a finger through the hair on his chest.  I moved from nipple to nipple, down to his belly button, back up to his clavicle.  He felt warm and cuddly, maybe tired enough that we’d just get to bed and fall asleep together. 

“After the New Year I think we should go on another vacation,” he said.

“Do you want to go back to Las Vegas?” I asked.

“No, I was thinking about visiting some friends of mine.”

“Okay,” I said.  “That would be nice.”

“Also I have to do some traveling in February.  There’s a small business convention I want to go to where they have some lectures about restaurants.”

“Oh,” I said.

“It’s just a few days.  You’ll probably be in class right?”

“Yeah, uh, no problem.”

I fell silent at his comments, put my head on his shoulder, let my hand drift down to his crotch.  He didn’t even invite me, or leave it open to me coming along, but I tried to push those thoughts from my mind.  It was all about the moment, the here and now.  So I looked to the tree and the presents.  I liked the idea of running out from the bedroom tomorrow morning to tear into one of them, all of them, but then I thought about getting a chance to have them right then and I made up my mind to try and convince him.

After all we were adults.  There was no mystery of Santa Claus, no great expectation of having some fantasy fulfilled, some material need satisfied.  I didn’t know what all he had gotten me, though I had some ideas after my birthday gift, and I was pretty sure he didn’t know what I had gotten him.  I bit my lip as I pulled my feet up to the cushion and repositioned myself to talk.

“So, we worked pretty late, it’s after midnight,” I said.

“What’s your point?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was just thinking that technically it’s Christmas and the gifts are under the tree.”

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I was thinking we’d unwrap our gifts tomorrow morning.  Don’t you like waking up and sitting together?”

“I do.  It’s just there was a tradition that we’d open one gift on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas Day.  We didn’t open a gift on Christmas Eve because we were working but since it’s technically Christmas Day...”

“Are you tempted?”

I grinned.

“What if I said one present?”

“Please,” I said.

“What if I said no presents?”

“Come on,” I said.

“It sounds like it’s too much for you.  It sounds like you need to learn a little more about discipline.”  I gulped thinking he was insinuating that I needed a spanking.  I was relieved by his next words.  “But I think a little lesson in delayed gratification would be better.  What do you think?”

I was curious about what he had in mind.  As good as the Christmas presents could be I wanted him.  I wanted his touch.  We hadn’t had sex in days and I didn’t get to jerk off in the morning because we were at the soup kitchen helping out.  It had been a long day but I was feeling the stimulation of adrenaline.

“I’m up for it,” I said.

“You will be,” he replied.

I watched him get up from the couch and walk into our bedroom, then go into the the kitchen where he retrieved a wooden chair.  He dragged it back into the room and in front of the Christmas tree.  He positioned it so it was slightly towards the presents but with plenty of space between them.  He beckoned me with a curl of his finger so I got up and walked to him. 

He had me sit in the chair chair, then reached down and tickled my balls through my underwear until I began to get an erection.  He traced over the shaft of my dick, circled the head, back down and up.  I let out a nervous laugh, smiled at him and he smiled back at me.  His finger tip traced lines of pleasure making me begin to leak.  My nipples began to harden so I reached up and began to play with them.  He grinned at me before he took hold of my wrists and pulled my hands down to my sides.

“How long is this going to be?” I asked.

“As long as I want it to last,” he said.

The red and green colors stood out to me in that darkened room, the flame of a candle looked so bright and yet so alone.  He took hold of the front of the waist band of my briefs and pulled it out, then down under my balls so that my dick stuck out towards him, wet at the tip.  He stuck my hands under the band of my underwear at each hips so that they stuck out the other side, then manipulated them around until I was bound. 

“You’re holding your breath,” he said.

I breathed deep, held it, and then exhaled.  Made another nervous laugh as he looked up into my eyes.  I could see his teeth, his wet tongue.  He pushed my knees apart, positioned my ankles back against the legs of the chair, pulled small ropes from his back pocket, then secured them.  He leaned close to my dick and for a moment I thought he was going to take it in his mouth but he stopped.  He let out a impish laugh before he pulled back and stood up. 

“Wait,” I said.

“You don’t get to control this,” he said.

He reached into his other back pocket and pulled out a blindfold, let it hang there for a moment so that I knew what it was before he stepped behind me and used it to cover my eyes.  I was blind when he tied it at the back of my head.

“What’s next?” I asked.

That’s when he put something else at my lips.  At first I thought it was his fingers but as I opened them, felt the hardness yet give, rubber and round.  A gag, I realized.  I relaxed, opened my mouth, and he pushed it between my teeth.  There was the sound, opening of a cap to a bottle of lubricant, the tip of his finger against my chest right in the middle that ran down, slick and teasing, to my pubes, then both of his hands at my stomach, around to my sides making me laugh a little before going up to my arm pits, back out to my pectorals where he massaged the muscles there for a long time as he worked my nipples into points.  It was almost enough to forget about my cock until he took hold of it with one slick hand and began to work it with his fist.

There was little I could do as I felt the bindings on my ankles and my wrists in my own underwear, useless against my thighs.  One hand slid over my chest while the other was on my dick and I thought for a moment he was working me to a climax until he let go and that hand down there slipped to my balls where he took a firm hold, pulled them down just enough to distract me. 

His fingers moved over me leaving barely a trace of sensation.  The gag between my teeth made me salivate, drool ran from my lips down over my chin and to my chest.  He tickled and rubbed me in different areas, sometimes predictable and other times not.  But when he went back to my dick as if to focus all of his attention on it I got really excited because I thought he would work me to an orgasm.  Grunts and moans escaped from my throat.  His fingers left me though.

That’s when I heard tearing down there at my underwear as he worked an opening in them to get to my butt.  First one probing finger and then something else.  It felt long and rigid as it slipped along my flesh to my hole.  He pushed the dildo inside of me with consistent pressure until I felt myself give completely, my flesh wrapped around it, gripped at it.  I felt open and full at the same time.  My dick was the hardest it had ever been and yet it felt nothing, no sensation, nothing to rub against.  I moaned some more as I wanted to be able to beg him, plead with him for just a little touch. 

His fingers ran along my thighs from the inside out to my knees, then back to my crotch.  I desperately wanted him to touch my dick, my balls, but he moved out again, back in, and out again.  The saliva on my chest felt cold and foreign to me though I knew where it had come from, my own mouth.  I thrashed about against my bindings in an attempt to rub against something with my dick.  It felt detached and yet it was the most sensitive part of my body, a blind probe.

I was about to give up when I felt his hands leave my legs but then I felt him there at the bulbous head.  I felt his hot breath, the nip of his lips.  And then an all consuming, warm and wet surrounding of his mouth.  His tongue against the underside of my dick.  I felt as if I was leaving my body.  It wasn’t the familiar sensation of an orgasm from masturbation.  It felt as if some part of me was leaving as I ejaculated.  It felt as if I had given something away. 

He pulled off me, took my dick in his hands.  He milked every last ounce of cum, every sensation until my dick was sensitive and I tried to pull back but he kept after me, his fingers on the sensitive head slipped over its surface, brushed the opening that felt impossibly big.  He kept at it as I moaned.  He worked the dildo in me to remind me it was still there, took hold of my dick, worked it as hard and fast as he could. 

I tried to refuse.  I tried to wish the pain and pleasure away.  He kept at me and in another moment before I knew exactly what was happening I orgasmed again this time it felt as if something had been cut off.  One moment of excruciating bliss. 

Sweat covered my body and my muscles ached.  I wasn’t sure I could stand.  He slipped the dildo from me, pulled the gag from my mouth, and kissed me.  He undid my wrists.  My underwear felt stretched and torn, but I knew it could be replaced.  He untied my ankles, ran his fingers up my legs to massage the blood and muscle back into place.  He kissed me again on the lips before he got to his feet and pulled me up to him with both hands in my armpits.  I was like a doll, barely able to support myself.  My underwear fell down to my ankles and he laughed a little so I laughed back as I tried to steady myself.

I thought for a moment of how to get to the bedroom but then I felt him take hold of me again, this time his arm down behind my knees, and he lifted me from the floor.  My limp dick pointed back towards my belly button he carried me into the bedroom where he lay me down on the bed.  We kissed as he crawled over me onto his side.  I rolled away from him and he moved up behind me.  Our skin felt like two connected parts, his breath on the back of my neck was a familiar comfort.

The next morning I awoke to find him on his back with his eyes open.  I asked him how long he had been awake and he said it had only been a few minutes.  He asked me if I wanted to open my presents.

“Can I?”

“Of course,” he said.

I jumped up from the bed and ran out to the tree.  He was quick to follow.