Companion Erotica: Chapter Five – Pre-Operation

"Companion Erotica" from the world of Holmes & Watson, a series from Richard Saw. Amazon.com: Richard Saw: books, biography, latest update 

I awoke in the hospital bed, my gown covering me... more clothes than I’d worn in months, Taylor had teased me before I’d gone in to surgery. I couldn’t see how things had turned out, as my groin was still covered in bandages, but my handsome doctor had assured me it had gone perfectly. 

In preparation for the surgery, I had first spoken to the only friend I knew who might understand it. By chance Geoff Halford was also in a relationship with a very wealthy man, though unlike me Geoff wasn’t the kept man. But he did understand the pressures that came with being with someone who was used to the world being at their fingertips. We were both sunbathing by a pool in India, surrounded by a host of other wealthy men and their beautiful but less than intellectual other halves. I’d had a few too many drinks, which for me meant two, given how fit I was, and how little fat I had on me. The cocktails were lethal, the sun was blazing, and both our men had been busy in a conference all day.

And so I blurted it all out to Geoff, perhaps hoping that he would discourage me or give me reasons why I shouldn’t go through with it. But he just looked at me and said, “You should do it bro. I can tell you want too. I know you love getting pounded. Fuck... if you had a pussy, I’d definitely do you that way. Com’n, you have to let me.”

“But what if I wanted to get it back?” I asked.

“What?” He teased me like a mate would. “That little thing? Surely you should get a bigger one. But right now, do you think you’ll care?”

I tried to argue the other side, but Geoff was right. I did want this. Why was I trying to find an excuse?

Geoff lent over, his finger pulling my Speedo down, over my big arse. Without even thinking I opened my legs and got up on my hands and knees to demonstrate. “Bro you are so hot,” Geoff hissed. “That is the sweetest snatch I have seen since I gave up fucking girls. Com’n bro,” he whispered to me. “Let’s go upstairs and take this to its natural conclusion. You know our husbands aren’t coming back tonight. And they’d want us to be happy.”

Boy that man could seduce you. And the thought of the huge man mountain of Geoff fucking me... well it did occur to me that I was allowed the occasional play date, as long as they were no threat to Taylor. And Geoff wasn’t. “You wanna go right now?” I blurted out.

It was different from Taylor fucking me, where I would give myself over to his desires. Geoff was a huge beast, and his cock was probably thicker than Taylor’s. Feeling his huge hands clamp onto my big arse and drive in. Oh, it was good. OK so that might not have been the best thing, but I needed to feel his reassurance. “Fuck your pussy is sweet,” he growled as he nailed it, once we were in one of the many bedrooms in our host’s palatial mansion. 

I started to moan and whimper like I did for Taylor. “Oh yes take my pussy you big man. Fuck me hard. Make me pregnant before my husband gets home!”

“Fuck!” Geoff roared as his pounding increased. “That. Is. So. Fucking. Hot!” And his hand spanked my arse so hard it brought tears to my eyes. “I am gunna fill your pussy. Load after load until you’re bloated from all my cum and it’s leaking out. Scream for me you naughty fucking girl. What’s gunna happen when your daddy finds out you’ve been offering your snatch to every randy boy in your class?”

“Oh yes, yes!” I screamed, my voice high and arching my back to let him have better access. 

Geoff’s huge hand reached down and pulled my neck closer to him. “Yeah?” He laughed. “I love pretty little girls from the posh schools who like to lift their knickers for all the rough council boys like me. All hoping you’ll secretly get pregnant by me, cause you know your public-school boyfriend couldn’t penetrate you if he tried. Go on. Say my name. Tell me you want it.”

“Geoff! Geoff!” I begged. “Fuck me!”

“Ah. Mutherfucker!” He yelled as he came. 

We collapsed together on the bed, feeling the impact of the drinks and the sun. “Man. I can’t wait till you have a real pussy,” Geoff moaned. “You are one great fuck.”

“I think Taylor will want sole access,” I giggled. “At least for a while.”

“So look...” Geoff said as he lent up before he moaned and collapsed back. “What was in those cocktails?”

Once we sobered up a bit, Geoff gave me the name of a psychotherapist who specialised in gay couples where there was a role reversal. And he confirmed he’d definitely understand me, and he’d help me to discuss anything I needed to.

So there I soon found myself, sitting with psychotherapist Grant Potten explaining why I loved being Taylor’s girl. And once I started talking, I just couldn’t stop.

“I always knew I’d be a bottom,” I admitted. “You know, someone has to be in a gay encounter. But I’m honest with myself, I’m not really equipped to be the top. So even if I wanted to be, it wasn’t going to be. And when one form of pleasure is denied you, you’re stupid not to embrace the other options. I’ve always been a big man, tall... even I guess, handsome?” I shrugged self-deprecatingly. “And I loved the gym. It was easy for me to put on muscle. As a result, it made me a hot man. But mostly my relationships were with men older or around my age. Y’know muscle bears and so on...”

Grant Potten nodded his understanding.

“I don’t think I ever thought about dating a younger guy. Why would I? They were all bottoms, right? But Taylor despite his age, is pretty alpha. He is very experienced in bed, totally knows what he wanted from the get-go and has now become a huge success in business. It’s easy to see him as the alpha.”

“So, you could say that it’s not a shock that you’re the passive partner,” Grant suggested. 

“If he was my age, totally,” I admitted. “But he’s so much younger than me. And not only that, but he also likes everyone to see me as the alpha in public. I mean we can’t disguise the money side, but he’s always bigged up my role in his success. I’m now also very well off, partially as a result of Taylor, though the money is in my name. So if we broke up tomorrow I’d be better off than ever. Whenever we’re in public together I’m always suited & booted on his request. I’m in lots of his business meetings, and often people come to me with the serious questions. Which I have to gently encourage them to ask Taylor.”

“He lets you play the daddy?” 

“He doesn’t let me...” I stressed. “I have to. It’s part of the relationship dynamics that he really likes. I know it heightens the pleasure he gets out of turning the tables when we get behind closed doors.”

“Do you feel coerced to fill either role?”

“God no!” I laughed. “I love it. I adore him and he’s my little man. I want to protect him and look after him. And our sex is amazing. Still is. I love offering my cunt, sorry my arse,” I apologised, “I love giving my arse over to him. I love that he wants it. I’m so proud of all the work I’ve put into my body, and I have someone who loves what I do for him,” I shook with pleasure. 

“You sound very happy,” Grant remarked, looking like he was resisting a desire to close his notebook and kick me out the door. “So jumping ahead to the big issue. Tell me what your issue is with having the vaginoplasty. “

I swallowed. “It’s a big step.”

Grant was silent. 

“I mean I don’t really use my cock these days. Taylor can make me cum without it. And if I had the surgery I would have even more pleasure, at least I believe that’s true. My arse is my sexual organ and to have a second one. Oh my god. And even if we broke up... it’s not like I wouldn’t find plenty of men who wanted me...” all of what I was saying was true. So, what was my problem? Geoff had even pointed out to me I could always implant a bigger penis if I so desires. So, what was holding me back?

“Do you worry that once it happens you can no longer deny to yourself, or hide it from others, that you’re the lesser party in the relationship?”

I thought about it. Maybe... but why was that a turn-on for me?

“Are you happy?” Grant finally asked. 

“Ecstatically so,” I admitted.

“Well then. What do you worry about?”

I didn’t precisely know.

“You are a beautiful man. You have a stunning body. You were clearly made to be fucked by other men and now you have found one whose cock hits your prostate every time. You clearly love giving him power and authority, and you know that it makes him happy, so you put on a skirt and lift it up for him to demonstrate how much you are his girl. You deserve a proper pussy, and your partner does too.”

I almost orgasmed on the spot. I had to bite on a finger to stop myself. So, my mind was made up, I embraced the change, but it was still a challenge to say it out loud. 

Things moved fast when you’re wealthy though. And once I said yes, there I was, sitting next to Taylor, in a private clinic in Amsterdam, talking the process through with a very handsome doctor.

“Thank you for both for coming,” Dr Jensen said, as Taylor and I sat down. “So, I believe you want to have a vaginoplasty.”

I froze for a moment. Up until now it had been just something between me and Taylor. Now there was this handsome Dr Jensen in the conversation. Someone else who would know that behind all my big muscles I was a pussy. 

“Come on baby,” Taylor encouraged me, amused that the doctor probably presumed it was he, the skinny boy who was due for the operation. “Tell the nice doctor what you want.”

“Yes,” I stammered for a moment before remembering how relaxed Geoff had been when I confessed my sexual desires, and how Grant had shown me that my desire was what I truly wanted. “Taylor’s cock satisfies me like no other cock has done. I never touch my own cock anymore, it’s tiny anyway and doesn’t do anything. Plus, he can make me cum just by fucking me. I don’t see a point in having a cock anymore. I think that we both could get more pleasure with me having a pussy too.”

“I see,” the doctor nodded. “Do you want to get undressed and show me?”

This I felt very willing to do... being naked empowered me. I stripped off my clothes in seconds and without waiting to be asked, I gave Dr Jensen a full show of my body, flexing my biceps and pecs, showing my huge legs and my rocking hot arse.

“Can you get hard for me?” Dr Jensen asked, not at all interested in my muscles. 

I slumped a little and looked nervously over at Taylor.

“Go on baby,” he urged me. “Do what the doctor said.” 

“But I...” I tried to explain. “I really struggle. You know I do. Can you help me?”

Dr Jensen held up his hand to stop Taylor from helping. “Have you ever wanked before young man?” He was if not my age, even younger. And I found myself blushing at the use of the phrase. Blushing but being very turned-on at the same stage.

“I have,” I tried to explain. “But it’s been a long time. I’m used to getting all my pleasure anally.”

“I see,” Dr Jensen nodded, with a satisfied nod, as if I had passed the first test. “We have some tools that can help you. Would you like to try them? I see you’ve been a good girl and removed all your public hair, which is necessary for the operation.”

“I think I’ll need some toys,” I admitted. 

“Have a look at these,” Dr Jensen showed me a tray with a selection of dildos. I picked one large enough for it to accurately resemble Taylor’s cock. There was a bottle of lube available and so I lubbed it up and started to slide it into me. Taylor had fucked me twice already this morning so I knew I could take it. I was more concerned that I might not cum as Taylor’s cock always had me cumming. But as I saw the handsome face of Dr Jensen watching me, I felt a desire to show off. Not just because he was attractive, but because he was a doctor, and being under his control felt naughty and arousing. But also to show off to someone how well Taylor had trained me. And to show another man how much I loved it... that dildo slid all the way in me without pause. I started fucking myself on it, giving into the pleasure of showing off. The occasional glance at Dr Jensen had me believing he was turned on by it, or at the least he was aroused by the academic curiosity of it. I turned so I could see Taylor, and the salacious look on his face showed he was aroused as well, plus I could see his cock growing in his trousers. I gave myself into the pleasure and soon found myself spurting a load out my little cock. I gave a gasping moan, and slowly withdrew the dildo.

“I see...” Dr Jensen said slowly.

“Would it be OK if I sucked Taylor off now?” I asked. “I’m not used to cumming without his load in me.”

“Be my guest,” Dr Jensen nodded. “It’s good research for me to see how much you embrace your role.”

Taylor smiled with satisfaction as he stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock. I sank to my knees and quickly wrapped my lips around it. Taylor let me do you work which didn’t take too long as my performance had made him horny as well. And soon enough he was flooding my mouth with a load. 

“Oh god,” I moaned as I leaned back and swallowed. 

“My princess!” Taylor groaned. “How is it you make me cum so much?”

Dr Jensen looked up from taking his notes. “Well, I think that’s shown me everything I need to see. You are definitely a perfect candidate for vaginoplasty. You came without touching your cock and even when it was hard... well sort of hard... it looked to be less than three inches. You also demonstrated that your arse is your sexual organ, so giving you a vagina would only give you more pleasure.”

“That’s great news doctor,” Taylor grinned. “So, you can turn my princess into a proper girl?”

“Oh, we can do that.” Dr Jensen smiled. “Now if you would stand in front of me,” he ordered. And then he used a marker to show what he would do, forming a triangle around my little cock and balls. “Are you ready for this?” He asked. 

I nodded but Taylor held up his hand. When we both turned, I found him on his knee holding out a ring. “Marry me!”

Not going Without...

"Hey, man, you sharing that pussy?"

I looked over my shoulder and past dad, who'd just climbed off me and was wiping his cock clean on my undies. Two men in flannel were standing there in our campsite. We'd parked in the busiest spot at the gay nudist campground and he'd told me that some one would be able to spot us, hopefully. 

"We heard you fucking ur boi is all, and figured we'd ask," the second man said. "We're here for a campout but our boi's weren't able to come this weekend with college finals and all."

"Well, I wouldn't want to see two dads go without," mine said. "If you help me set up our tent, you can take turns on him all weekend."

Companion Erotica: Chapter 4- The New Life

"Companion Erotica" from the world of Holmes & Watson, a series from Richard Saw. Amazon.com: Richard Saw: books, biography, latest update 

Chapter Four – The New Life

 

The apartment was beautiful, the furniture was amazing, but now that I could spend as much money as I wanted, my inner interior designer came out. Maybe I was crazy, but I was the partner of a very rich man with a big dick who fucked me twice a day. Why should I not enjoy it to the fullest? 

I kept going to work every day, while Taylor continued to develop his app in conjunction with his new business partners. The new owners insisted on paying him huge consultation fees for additional ideas, which seemed to flow out of him in a never-ending stream. However Taylor’s business demanded more of his time, and it was clear that he needed support on the home front. When I came home one evening and found him frustrated, I tried to comfort Taylor. “How can I help you Daddy?”

Taylor looked up at me from our embrace. “I don’t think both of us can work. I think one of us needs to support the other.”

“I agree,” I nodded before I realised what was being said. “Hang on, what are you saying?”

“You know I earn a lot more than you do. And you’ve done such a great job decorating this place, and you’re so good dealing with all my clients when we go out. I could give you a salary for helping me. Whatta say?”

I didn’t have to think much about it. I was actually not that happy with work. I’d gone as far as I could with the job, and I knew it was probably time to look for a new one anyway. “You know what?” I said, surprising myself. “That sounds like a great plan.” I smiled. “A girl should give up her job to support her man, shouldn’t she?”

“You’re gunna be my trophy wife baby,” he smiled. “Everyone is gunna be jealous of how fit you are, how handsome you are. They’re all gunna think you’re my daddy but we’ll know.” And he winked.

When I came home from my last day of work, Taylor was waiting for me with champagne, presents... and garbage bags. “What are they for?” As I took my tie off. 

“They are for your suits. You’re never going to wear them again. So strip now. Take it all off and put it in the bag with the others.”

I did as I was ordered and finished standing naked in the middle of the room, seeing my past life disappear into black plastic garbage bags.

“Now for your first present,” Taylor said, handing me an envelope. I opened it up and my Daddy explained what it was. “This pays for a personal trainer for every day. But I expect a certain standard,” he waggled his finger at me. “I expect to see big biceps and pecs, a six pack and of course a huge arse. Anything less,” he warned me, “And my girls cunt is going to be dry.”

“Yes daddy,” I nodded earnestly.

“Now let’s review your new wardrobe,” Taylor continued. “Tight muscle tops, tank tops and tight jeans for going out during the day. At night you can wear shirts and pants, but they better not disguise how hot you are. I want everyone to know all the time what a rocking stud you are. When we’re home alone it’ll be lacy knickers and bras,” he winked salaciously. “Gotta show off those big titties. But don’t worry, when company comes around, I’ll want you in itty bitty speedos.”

I swallowed. Was that all? There would be no hiding from anyone. Sure, I could look manly in that clothing, but I would not be able to slip up, no cakes for me. However, the egotistical pleasure of spending my whole day looking hot aroused me. How could it not? So, I would be a kept man, but I loved going to the gym and training, and now I had the money to do it properly. As I tried on the clothes for Taylor I was checking myself out in the mirror. Damn I looked hot. And Taylor thought so too. He was licking his lips as I flexed while wearing the tight muscle tops and speedos. But the moment I slipped into a tiny pair of lacy knickers and a bra that barely held in my huge pecs... he was rock hard.

“Oh fuck me,” he said getting up behind me and rubbing that big cock against my arse. “My girl is the sexiest little thing on the playground.” He slipped his fingers through the leg of my panties and began rubbing my cunt. 

“Ohhhh,” I moaned. “Daddy, wreck my cunt,” I panted. “Please! Fuck me deep and hard. I wanna carry your babies.”

“Oh, I’m gunna do that,” Taylor whispered and then he did something unusual for him. He reached around and fiddled with my cock. It hadn’t been played with for a while. Even I didn’t feel the need to touch it these days. I’d always been sensitive, and Taylor’s cock seemed to rub my prostate raw. Before I knew it my cock was usually drilling cum, and I was experiencing anal orgasms.

My cock got a little hard as Taylor flicked it, but it didn’t really grow in size. Still, it resulted in a tut-tutting from Taylor. “I really don’t like this,” he shook his head. “We’re going to have to do something about it.” I had no idea what he was saying, but now that I was truly the girl  in the relationship, Taylor was soon to feel confident enough to take charge.

 It was hard to explain how great life became. Because mostly we see wealth as a cautionary tale. You don’t hear the stories of lottery winners who say that actually yes, money did make things better. I guess it doesn’t make for good television. Neither of us had ever expected this sort of life, but we were strangely both at the right place. Taylor wanted to succeed and work hard. I wanted to do something different from going into the office. And helping him do this, plus look incredibly hot at the same time, was one way to do it. 

And the model seemed to be working, better than we’d expected. Revenue from Taylor’s app continued to flood in, and several new ideas he came up with were attracting attention. Suddenly we realised we were moving in circles that we’d not even considered possible. We bought a huge villa in France, an apartment in New York and other investment properties. Keeping track of them all, and the cars, was starting to be a full-time job. First class became the only way to travel, the only way we could travel.

But Taylor had been true to his word. I was his trophy husband and I needed to live up to it. My whole life started to revolve around the gym and maintaining the standard. Luckily size, bulk and definition came naturally to me. I’d never been that interested in food apart from as fuel, so sticking to strict diets didn’t faze me. Supplements were not a problem either. I didn’t care if my balls shrank, as long as my skin stayed clean, and Taylor fucked any roid-rage out of me. He wanted to make sure that every woman and gay man salivated after me, and every straight guy was intimidated. All without knowing that when we were home alone, I wore exquisite little lacy knickers and squealed like a girl when he fucked me. 

Taylor’s libido hadn’t dropped off at all, despite the work. If anything he seemed hornier than ever. His morning blow job was essential, just like his evening pounding. But anywhere new, or any situation where the secret pleasure of making his muscle-bound alpha husband take it like a girl, turned him on and Taylor was into me. No one had ever fucked me with the consistency and depth that Taylor did. I never failed to cum, so after a couple of ruined trousers at formal events, we’d quickly learnt to ensure I stripped entirely naked before he fucked me. And Taylor loved that too... the delight of his big muscle husband completely naked in a toilet stall getting fucked by him while he still wore his designer suit... oh he came deep in me those days.

The dynamic in our relationship did change, it couldn’t but. The more money Taylor made, the more we moved in higher circles, the more I realised that he controlled the strings. When he looked at me one day as I lay by the pool and said, “Why aren’t your abs as defined as that guy?” I knew my diet had to change. And until they popped, Taylor kept his cock away from me. The lesson was learnt, and I upped my crunches until I could show off an eight-pack. When I pulled off muscle shirt by the pool at our Cape Town House to reveal it, Taylor almost came on the spot. He fucked me three times that morning, ending the drought with pleasure but also demonstrating the power he had over me.

We were starting to travel more, between our homes in London, New York and Cape Town, and other cities where work took place. As CEO of his own firm, Taylor expected me to look perfect, whether it be hosting events or just laying by the pool. He added a chef to the household along with a personal trainer, a hulked-up, super-friendly South African called Ritchie, who’d left running a Crossfit Box with his mates, to travel with us permanently. Ritchie had talked about a girlfriend when we interviewed him, but when we hired Marcus, a former chef for the US paratroopers whose biceps were almost as big as Ritchie’s, the loveable Afrikaner went very quiet. I had a brief moment of concern but later that afternoon I spied them fucking by the pool, Ritchie very submissively taking Marcus’ dick. A little later I found that the girlfriend Ritchie had spoken about, had introduced another man – a very big, black ex-NFL football player – into their relationship. Ritchie was submissive by nature, and the girlfriend and new lover had taken advantage of it. Ritchie had taken this job as a way of exiting a toxic situation, but he could not deny his nature. Luckily in Marcus he found not only someone happy to be on top, but also someone genuinely nice. And they started fucking each other, which helped the harmony of the household no end. Taylor wanted to give me a job in the firm to explain my involvement, but I discouraged him from this, explaining that people would view it uncomfortable. So we created a finance consultation business that I could pretend I worked at home for. Except that as the circle of friends we had grew wealthier, people started to ask me to manage their money. Taylor agreed, as long as it didn’t interfere with what he wanted. Plus, I was managing both our finances as well.

Little by little though, Taylor started to enjoy the power he had over me. And I started to let him. I think. For example, he found a few hairs around my arse one day. He was fine with my chest and legs being hairy, claiming it helped maintain the butch daddy image when I was in public. But my arse and hole needed to be hairless. We found a personal hairstylist and waxer who joined the staff soon after, ensuring that my pussy was as pink and as smooth as a virgin. 

It was appropriate too, that Taylor found hobbies that reflected his new status in life. From the first day I’d met him he’d been a little more sophisticated in his taste of alcohol than one usually found in a boy his age. Now as a wealthy business tycoon he developed a taste of the best Scotch, and demanded I introduce him to other manly pursuits. He took an immediate like  to cigars, and soon we’d installed a world-class humidor for his growing collection. He really smoked in the presence of others, which people assumed was because he didn’t want to share. In reality, it was because for Taylor, cigars represented another way to assert his masculinity over me. 

Taylor usually declared it was time for a cigar after a long, hard day at work. On one of those rare nights that we weren’t entertaining, or at an event. When it was just the two of us, and the staff were off. Or in Ritchie and Marcus’ case, fucking each other’s brains out. But with the house to ourselves, I would slip into a tiny, sequined thong, often attaching tassels to my nipples, as if I was some Vegas hostess for high-rollers. I would pour him his Scotch, and clip his cigar while he sat back on the sofa, his cock getting thicker in his trousers as I became eager to please. Taylor would talk to me as if I was a hostess supplied for his benefit. He would start complimenting on how sexy I was, and as I reacted to the flattery, telling him how powerful and successful he was, he would then start to talk about how his clients, the other powerful men he did business with, would want to enjoy me too. 

Like the best hostess, I would dance, and moan, and finger myself as I would tell him how much I would do for him, and how willing I would be to help him seal the business deal. Of course, both of us knew this would never happen. One moment of crazy eroticism would ruin everything. But it was so fun to talk about. We would both get so turned on, and I would break all the rules of the job, by begging for his cock. 

At some stage it would flip back to us, with Taylor delighting in the thought that his big muscle man would do anything for him. We kept all of this play between ourselves, as far as I knew, no one knew – about from Geoff – what the dynamics of our relationship was. For some reason this became our naughtiest play. It was like we wanted to be caught, Taylor his shirt open, his cock pummelling me, and the delicious smell of cigar. I practically wet myself each time I smelt cigar smoke, and whenever we did, Taylor knew I would be even sluttier than usual.

As much as that was fun, Taylor had always had disdain for my tiny cock, and it had been something he’d teased me from day one. Not that I was concerned, his cock more than made up for both of us, and his teasing only made my pussy want his dick even more. But wealth had made Taylor believe that money could fix anything he developed a disdain for. He caught me when I was bare arse naked on day. “I just don’t like seeing it,” he moaned. 

“It’s very small,” I protested. “And you can’t see it when I wear panties.”

“But I know it’s there,” he argued. “You’ll never be my girl while you still have it.”

“I cum every time you fuck me,” I replied. “You are so much a man you push my cum out and fill me up with yours. I thought you liked that.”

 Yeah, I used to. But” he suddenly got really excited, “Wouldn’t it be really great if you had two holes?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice suddenly nervous like I knew exactly what he meant but didn’t want to admit it.

“I mean what if...” he came over and whispered in my ear, “what if we got you the snip. We cut off that little, tiny pointless dick and gave you a real pussy?”

“But, but, but ...” I protested. I’d not thought of this, though we’d made lewd references plenty of time during sex.

“Why baby? Don’t you wanna be my girl?” Taylor was slowly wanking himself, getting hard at the thought.

“Of course, I do,” I argued. “I thought I was already.”

“And when was the last time you wanked? When was the last time you came when it wasn’t due to me fucking your cunt hard?”

“ I... I... I haven’t wanked since I met you,” I confessed.

“See? You’re such a good girl and imagine what it would be like with a sweet pussy... I could open your big muscular legs right here and fuck it... and when I was done there I could fuck your arse. Imagine... twice the fucking every day.”

The thought blew my mind. I would never have dreamed that this was something I wanted or would even consider. Your cock is such an essential part of being a man. But... what had it ever given me? Frustration as a youth, although it had inspired me to go to the gym and made me the huge, muscled stud that I now was. But then I had discovered the pleasure of being fucked... and now I had someone who truly loved me... but yet...

Now it was out there I could see Taylor thinking about it. Even though he wasn’t serious, he started telling me that he would call my arse my cunt and it would be my pussy at the front. 

“I’ll slide deep in your pussy, spread those huge legs apart and fuck you properly like you’re my girl,” he whispered to me. “Can you imagine it? Holding my sperm in your pussy. Waiting for it to impregnate you.”

The fucking thereafter was epic. It clearly inspired Taylor, the thought of me having a proper pussy. He’d always fucked me well but now it became a whole other level. It seemed as if his dick hit my prostate with every stroke... my whole body, my huge muscles, sung each time. I would end up bathed in sweat, as if it squeezed every last drop of water out of me.

When Taylor had fucked me in the morning, my trainer would stare at my cut and defined body when we trained. “Bro. You are ripped!” He would say in admiration. 

“Get me bigger... make me work harder!” I would demand. I felt like I needed more... my arse needed to be bigger, rounder... I needed to look like a God. And I was. I got plenty of attention, but it was easy to shrug it off. Everyone else saw what they wanted to see. The big muscle top. The ultimate macho man. And I enjoyed playing up to it. I had the time, and Taylor encouraged it. I went kayaking, skiing, mountain climbing. Every day was an adventure and I had plenty of straight bros who loved doing it with me. They were all married to powerful, successful women and they loved having the time to achieve their athletic goals. They presumed I was the same. Little did they know that when I got home, I was putting on a little skirt, lifting it up and welcoming my young, genius, stud of a husband to unload his stress and his cum in me.

Taylor came home one evening with a huge grin on his face. He wouldn’t tell me why immediately, but as he fucked me he told me how he’d sold just one of his products to Facebook for an unimaginable amount of money. He was... No. He told me. We were rich. Not just wealthy. Rich. 

“But we’re not married,” I gasped in-between the fucks. “And you can’t just give me money. There are huge tax implications.” Look at me. Still trying to be the sensible financial advisor even with my legs in the air.

“So, we should do it!” Taylor declared. “It’s time we got married. No one else will be as honest with me as you are. And we love each other. You know I do.”

I know you’re struggling to imagine why I’m not saying yes straight away.  If for nothing else, surely for the money? Well, I had plenty of my own and I knew that it needed to be equals. At least on some level. ” I don’t know,” I blustered. “It’s all one-sided. You’re giving everything and I’m just taking.”

Taylor paused for a moment before he withdrew completely and then slid all the way back in me, sending stars into my brain, and waves of pleasure up my back and through my chest. “Then give me your pussy. Have the operation... give me pleasure for the rest of our days.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck yes,” I screamed as I felt one never ending orgasm erupt inside me.

I'm Ready To Learn

Dad came into my room and sat down on my chair and then just stared at me for almost a minute.  I did my best not to stare at his dick since he was completely naked.  

"What's going on?" I asked.

He scratched his balls while he talked and I couldn't help but watch his dick bounce around while he did it.  "You're mom thinks we should have 'The Talk'. She left for a few hours."

"Okay," I said, "but why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

"Well," he started jerking himself off, "you haven't figured out that you should have a password on your laptop so I've seen those stories you wrote about me cunting you and frankly," he was fully hard by now, "I think there's a few things you could teach me." He got up and stood directly in front of me, so close that I could smell the sweat on his balls and I could feel the heat coming off his cock.

He looked down at me, "I'm ready to learn to be the Daddy you really need me to be."

Companion Erotica: Chapter 3 Richard Saw

"Companion Erotica" from the world of Holmes & Watson, a series from Richard Saw. Amazon.com: Richard Saw: books, biography, latest update 

Chapter Three – Romancing

 

But they did. I’m not sure if it was completely intentional, for we went on lots of dates and did all sorts of things. In the cinema we watched everything from Japanese arthouse films with subtitles to Marvel superhero blockbusters. We went to theatre shows above pubs, garden centres, music festivals... and on one memorable night, the opera. Taylor couldn’t get enough of just doing things together. He tried to pay his way as much as he could, though we made a deal that I would always pay for meals. He never asked for any gift or suggested any event that was expensive. He was always up for a walk around the park or watching a friend play rugby. Out and about he was curious, interested in everything, polite to everyone we met and adoring of his Daddy. 

And yet we couldn’t stop ourselves. Every time we met, it ended with sex. Mostly back at my place,  very occasionally at his shared flat when no one else was around... but there were also fucks behind bushes, blow jobs in changing rooms and quickies in toilet stalls. We might have started each date with the best intentions, but neither of us could restrain ourselves. In society I was his man, and he was my good lad. But alone, he was my daddy, I was his sexy girl.

I paid for dinner and theatre, and he gave me his load more times than I could imagine. If he stayed the night I would be lucky if I escaped without at least one load in my cunt and another down my throat. Not as if I was complaining. And Taylor continued... whenever he could afford it... to purchase sexy lingerie for me. They weren’t expensive but I loved them none the less, and I always tried to wear them if we were meeting up. 

I still couldn’t believe though, that this was going anywhere and so I embraced the fun of it all. But after a couple of months I realised that I was never online anymore, I barely looked at porn, never so much as touched my cock, and no longer thought about a relationship with someone else. Was I... the words couldn’t even form on my lips. It was such a crazy thought.

Taylor had not met any of my friends on purpose and we’d only once bumped into any of his, so it seemed that neither of us was willing to put the relationship under any sort of stress. But people at work kept remarking how happy I was, so I was starting to wonder if I should do some real thinking about the future. But how?

“Geoff!” I waved to get my old friend’s attention as he walked in the restaurant. I’d met Geoff years ago playing gay rugby, and somehow we’d stayed in touch through the years, the boyfriends, and Geoff moving to America. 

His huge bulk looked to have got even bigger since he’d moved Stateside, but his grin and chilled persona hadn’t altered one bit. I stood up for a hug, but he stopped, looked me up and down, and said, “What’s got you so fucking cheerful, mate?”

I laughed, we hugged, had some lunch and a few beers... and I told Geoff that I was dating someone.

“Good to hear it bro,” he grinned as he devoured the rest of my burger. “So what’s wrong with him?” I gapped a little before Geoff filled in the space with. “Cause I know you. You would have told me straight up if he was good. So it stands to reason there must be something you’re embarrassed about if it took this long for you to bring it up.”

“That’s insightful,” I mumbled.

Geoff shrugged. “The ex was good at this stuff, and it rubbed off,” he replied. “So… what’s the deal?”

The ex in question had been the love of Geoff’s life but had died of cancer. I remember attending the funeral and to this day was never sure why he referred to Todd Mitchell as an ex, but we all have our strange little habits, I guess.

I hadn’t drunk enough to blurt it all out, but I was beginning to waver. Geoff lived far enough away, he knew few of my other friends... but he was also the biggest, buffest, most self-confident gay man I’d known. It was ... no I couldn’t. “It’s just...” I took a breath. “It’s just a bit embarrassing. Like sexually..  a bit...”

“Did I ever tell you of the time my ex got me to drag up in front of all the rugby club cause he wanted to fuck a drag queen?” Geoff said, just as the waitress appeared with more fries.

“No!” I coughed. 

“Man I swear there wasn’t a single fucking kink or fantasy that Todd didn’t want to experience. That boy...” and he grinned at the memory. “Man whatever you wanna tell me, I ain’t gonna tell anyone else. I’ve seen pretty much everything. It’s cool.”

“Seriously?”

“Try me,” he grinned. “If I’m even the least bit shocked, lunch is on me.”

“Ok,” I took another deep breath. “I reckon this could be a free meal. So first things... I’m a big bottom. I’ve basically never topped.”

“Not a shock bro,” Geoff mumbled. “I’ve showered with you, remember? Plus,” he added. “I’ve seen your Instagram pics. You’re still rocking those squats and weren’t you the guy who ripped his chinos at the company picnic?”

“Damn that story never dies,” I cursed. 

“So you’re a bottom. Go on.”

“I’ve started dating this young guy. I mean it was sex at first but now I think we’re actually dating...”

“How young?”

“Twenty-two, no wait, twenty-three.”

“How big?”

“Nine inches, “ I gulped. “And thick too.”

“Congratulations,” Geoff said, without a smile even cracking his face. “So what’s the problem?”

“He makes me wear lingerie and in the bedroom I call him Daddy!” I blurted out.

Geoff paused, wiped his lips with the napkin, gave a salacious smirk before replying. “You dirty fucker, I love it. You go girl,” and he reached across to thump me on the arm.

I blushed but felt a wave of relief that I didn’t feel humiliated having admitted it. 

“So what’s the real problem?” Geoff demanded.

“I think I like this boy,” I explained. “Like, like him, like him. We’ve been on dates and everything. And it’s all good.”

“But you’re worried about the age gap and the kinky sex thing,” Geoff concluded, “And how could this possibly survive, and what would people say?”

“Well... yeah.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “These relationships can work out. There are no kids involved, you don’t have to fall into some traditional model, you know.”

“Thanks man,” I declared. “You really think so? I mean, you’d say that to someone who wasn’t a friend?”

“Oh god no,” Geoff shook his head. “I’m only saying it to you because you’re a mate. Long distance, age gap, being at different stages in life, one person not working. These things kill relationships.”

“Oh...”

“But maybe something will happen to make it all fit together, “ Geoff casually remarked without knowing how prophetic it would be. “In the meantime why don’t you put those lacy knickers on when you go to work. Give your mind time to embrace if this is who you’re happy to be and see if you really are the sweet bit of arse this boy thinks you are.”

I didn’t really understand what Geoff was on about. It didn’t feel like useful relationship advice. But of course that was the thing that stuck in my head and the next day I deliberately slipped on a pair of those lacy knickers that Taylor had bought me and headed off to work. When he texted me that day, I almost came without touching myself.  And I knew that I couldn’t just stop seeing Taylor. If nothing else, I was going to have to see how this played out.

And then the cataclysmic event that would change everything, happened. Or at least it started to. Taylor casually confessed in bed one day that he’d designed an app.

“It’s not something ground-breaking, “ he rapidly explained. “I’m not like every millennial out there, thinking I’m some genius. It’s an app to help insurance brokers. I saw how things were done at work on another project and I thought, I could do better. I think it’s OK. Could you help me with the pitch document and the finance stuff? I just want to give it a good go, do it properly.”

I agreed, I mean who wouldn’t help out a friend? He listened to what I had to say, and we created a good pitch and... I honestly thought nothing more of it. Until the day he called me when I was at work. “You have to come over,” he hissed, sounding like he was in a toilet.

“Why?” I asked. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the toilet in my office,” he hissed. “You have to come and help me. They’ve made me an offer for my app.”

“That’s great,” I said,  leaning back in my chair, not really appreciating what was going on.

“No it’s not!” Taylor pleaded. “They made me an offer offer. A real one. For millions. I’m totally out of my depth. You have to come and help me negotiate. “

“I am on my way,” I said as I cancelled meetings in my diary and grabbed my jacket.

It turned out that it was a bigger event than anyone had foreseen. Another company made an offer soon after and I had to quickly hire a lawyer, call in some favours to get some of my banker buddies to come advise, and we holed up in a hotel while dual negotiations continued. We didn’t get back to my flat for several days, but when we finally did, we crashed exhausted into bed.

“You’re rich!” I whispered. 

“No, we are,” Taylor replied.

I shook my head. “This is your money. I’m fine.”

“But this is millions!” Taylor protested.  “And I wouldn’t have it without you. Let me do something for you. Let me pay off your mortgage.”

I smiled. “You could pay off my mortgage and buy a huge place of your own without even noticing.”

“That’s a great idea,” Taylor grinned. “Let’s go shopping for a place for both of us. And you can move in with me and rent your place out.”

The offer sounded... actually quite sensible. So when we finally awoke, that is what we did. And it’s amazing what real money does. Within days we’d bought a beautiful apartment in Central London, more amazing than I’d ever dreamed of. On addition, my flat was fully paid for, and an agent had it rented out. And we were sitting on the floor in the new apartment, looking around.

“What happens now?” Taylor asked.

“Well I guess we need to furnish this place.”

“But I don’t know what to buy,” Taylor protested. Suddenly an idea seemed to strike him. “You do it. I want my Daddy to do it. I’ll give you a credit card in your name so that no one knows that I’m in paying the bills.”

“No I can’t,” I protested. 

Taylor took my hand and rested it on his cock that had grown in his pants as a result of him holding the purse strings. “Come on my pretty princess. You’ll do what Daddy says. And Daddy wants you to go shopping like the princess you are. He’ll give you a big credit card in your name and you’ll shop like a girl with taste and daddy’s money behind her. And I promise, if you do a good job I’m gunna put a baby in you. Now why don’t you take those silly clothes off and come over her and suck me off to show daddy how appreciative you are.”

Taylor met my eyes and slowly pulled his thick cock out of his pants. “Come on sweetie,” he cooed. “Come over here.”

I didn’t wait any longer. I stripped naked and crawled over to Taylor. I needed that cock, so I bent down, swallowing the entire thing. My arse lifted in the air, and I couldn’t help but flex it as I sucked Taylor’s cock.

“Oh I love how slutty you get when you start thinking about my cock in your pussy,” Taylor moaned as I worked hard on it. “I’ve never met a man like you. So masculine, so big... and so in need of a cock in him. I don’t think you even have an arse. I think you have a pussy... a sweet cunt. I think we should stop pretending, don’t you? I think you are a girl. And I think you want to get treated like one. If you don’t, just stop sucking my cock.”

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Companion Erotica: Chapter 2 Richard Saw

 "Companion Erotica" from the world of Holmes & Watson, a series from Richard Saw. Amazon.com: Richard Saw: books, biography, latest update

Chapter 2 – The Date

 

I had presumed that Taylor was joking when he said he wanted to go on a date, and I honestly never expected to hear from him again. But a day or so later, he texted me asking when and where we were going. I had to read the text message twice, but it looked to me that he was serious. So I guess we were doing this. I thought about saying no, because where could this possibly go? But he had been so sweet, even with the very kinky things we did, so I relented.

But I still couldn’t believe there was any future in this, so I deliberately did some things that would politely suggest to Taylor that any fantasy he had, simply wasn’t going to work. I booked us into a very elegant restaurant and as I was coming directly from work I was wearing one of my better business suits when I arrived. Part of me felt bad that I was deliberately trying to make him awkward, but you have to be cruel to be kind, right? Surprisingly Taylor was already there when I arrived. And while he wasn’t in anything like a suit or tie, he was wearing a very nice business shirt. Or at least a young person’s interpretation of what a business shirt might be. God, he was taking this seriously. 

As I approached the table Taylor’s eyes lit up and he jumped up to greet me. “Hello daddy,” he said, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. I felt myself strangely melting. I hadn’t felt like this with a man in a long time, but this was ludicrous.  This was just some young guy who had fucked me really well. I must be getting weak in my old age, I decided.

I leant over, gave him a kiss, and sat down across from him. If this really was a first date, it turned out to be a fairly good one. Taylor talked very articulately for someone so young. He talked about his work at the software firm, and all the projects he was working on outside of the office. Unlike some of the millennials I worked with, he didn’t believe the world owed him a living, nor that his ideas were ground-breaking. He was also fascinated in the work I did, and I ended up telling him a great deal about my life then I usually would.

“There’s just so much I want to do with my life,” Taylor sighed.

“You’re young,” I protested. “You’ve got time.”

“Did you think that when you were my age?”

“Hell no!” I laughed. “Of course not.”

“Oh,” he stopped the conversation. I almost forgot. I got you a present,” he said and handed me a small and very neatly wrapped box. 

“What is this?” I looked confused. “You don’t need to get me presents. I thought I was the daddy. If anything, I should be getting you presents.”

“It’s just a little something,” he said with a cheeky smile. “After all, you’re paying for dinner right?” and he laughed, waving his hand to show that he wasn’t serious, though I intended to do just that.

The box didn’t weigh very much, and I still had no idea what it could be as I unwrapped it. As I finally opened it, I spied a flash of lace. It was a tiny little lacy feminine thong. I couldn’t deny it, I felt a tingle in my hole. “Oh my goodness,” I whispered.

“You like it?” Taylor whispered. I had not told him anything about my deepest, darkest thoughts and yet it seemed that Taylor really understood sexual desire much better than people years older.

“It’s um…” I didn’t know what to say. I mean my hole knew what it wanted to say but…

“Go into the toilets and change into it,” Taylor ordered. “And when you come back you can give me your other underpants.”

His tone brook no argument and strangely it totally aroused me. The fact that outside of the bedroom Taylor was still a sweet little twink, made it all the more arousing. I said nothing but did what he told me. I awkwardly undressed in the restaurant toilet, taking my shoes and trousers off and then removing my boxer briefs. I slipped one leg and then the other, into the tiny lacy thong. The touch of it on my hole as it slid between my cheeks made me bite my lip in delight. The front easily covered my dick which, despite the rest of my body’s excitement, wasn’t the slightest bit aroused.

I put the rest of my suit back on and returned to the table, my underpants bunched into my hand. Taylor looked at me innocently but put his hand out for me to pass over my underpants which I shamefacedly did. “Good boy. But how will I know you’re actually wearing the underwear I bought?” he asked.

“Ummm…” I felt flustered, I didn’t know how to respond to that question. 

“I guess we’ll have to go back to your place, and then you can show me, won’t you?” he explained, as if I was too simple to understand.

“Oh yes,” I smiled. God the whole thing, Taylor being sweet and adorable, the lace thong, me being befuddled at the thought. I wanted it all so much. “Let me pay for dinner then,” I signalled for the waiter and Taylor smiled innocently.

All the way back to my place, Taylor remained chatty and interested, as if the sexual talk was reserved for home. It was only when we were walking up the stairs did he say anything. “You are such a beautiful, sweet, sexy girl. But now I’m going to take your pussy and smash the doors open, until you can’t stop moaning and you scream my name.”

“Is that want you want me to be?” I whispered.

“Oh no,” he whispered  back. “It’s what I know you want to be. You’re the big handsome man out in public, everyone sees you like that, and I want people to think that’s what you are too. The manly, masculine man. But as soon as the door closes you’re a sweet, delicate little princess, who moans and begs for cock.”

“God. It’s like...” I gulped.

“You’ve dreamed of meeting someone like me, haven’t you?” Taylor whispered. “Course you probably thought it would be someone your age or older... but when a real man comes along, you know what a girl has to do.”

“Holy fuck…” I whispered. I didn’t mean to, but sometimes you can’t hold back.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that. The panties were a bit of a test which you passed with flying colours.”

“There’s more?” I gasped, my key in the door.

“Do you want there to be more?”

“Oh yes,” I gulped. 

“You are a good girl,” Taylor smiled. “Well, you want to be a good girl. And so you know that you need to do what I tell you. You know that no one has probably ever fucked you like I did, and I will,” and his hand slapped my arse hard.

“Yes…” I whispered.

“Good. So, when we go inside you’re going to be addressed as a girl. Do you understand? Only female pronouns. Even after the sex has finished.”

“And what do I call you?”

Taylor thought for a moment. “Inside there you call me Daddy.”

“Really?” My eyes flashed wide. “But I…”

“Think about it,” Taylor smiled. “What would a little girl like you call the man who gives her pleasure? And what better name is there for you to show you know your place?”

I was lost in thought as I opened the door and Taylor walked in. “So come on baby,” he smiled. “Why don’t you get naked and show your daddy how sexy you look in your new knickers?”

I didn’t know to say, but I wanted this. I wanted to explore it all now... I wanted to see where this would all lead. So, I walked into my flat and removed my shoes, suit, shirt, and tie without saying a word. Taylor had walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a scotch when I turned to face him, wearing only the little lacy thong. “You like... daddy?” I whispered, not really ready to say the words. 

Taylor looked me up and down. “Oh, my little princess. You look so precious in your tiny lacy knickers. And those big titties of yours,” he chuckled. 

I blushed and placed my hands over my big pecs and crossed my legs at the same time. 

“What is it you want from your daddy?” Taylor asked, smirking at me.

“I want...” I found my bottom lip trembling. “I want...”

“Com’n princess. You’re a big girl now. You need to tell daddy what you want.” And Taylor rubbed that huge cock in his pants. “And I wanna hear you say it all.”

“I want...” and I gulped. “I want your big cock to slide in my tight pussy... I want you to fuck me hard. I want your cum in me, so deep you’re gunna get me pregnant. “

“Why don’t you get down on your knees in front of me,” Taylor whispered. “Like you’ll do every morning after you’ve made me breakfast. In your sweet little lingerie that just covers your little clit.”

“Yes...” I whispered. Taylor spoke words that I had only dreamed of hearing. Maybe I didn’t even know I wanted to hear them. So, I knelt in front of him and took his cock in my mouth.

“That’s it my darling,” Taylor whispered, stroking my head. “All the way in... oh yeah... you take it all in. Can you feel how big it is? Can you feel how thick a man’s cock really is? Mmmm. You like it, don’t you?”

I murmured ‘yes’ without releasing the cock from my mouth. I didn’t want to ever let it go, it filled my mouth, it filled me.

After a good number of minutes of me working that big cock down my throat, Taylor finally reached down and stopped me. “Time for bed, my pretty baby.” And he held out his hand so I could get up off the floor. Taking my by the hand he led me into my bedroom. I went to take off the lacy thong, but he stopped me. “No, no. Leave it on,” he said with a smile. “It covers that nasty little clit of yours. We don’t want that flopping around do we? Making a mess of things. A pretty girl like you should be nice and flat. Why don’t you lie down and open your legs nice and wide for me?”

I did as Taylor instructed, while he undressed and turned to face me, that huge cock bouncing in front of me. “Fuck you’re so hot,” he whispered again, as if surprised that he had lured a girl as hot as me into bed.

“Fuck me Daddy,” I whispered, not sure if I was really admitting to what I had just said.

“Yeah I’m your daddy,” he smiled. “And you’re my girl. And you’ll never forget it.” And then his cock, slick with lube, slide deep into me. And I groaned. No... I moaned. I moaned like I was made to be satisfied this way. I gasped as he withdrew and as he drove back in quickly, I squealed with pleasure. And that night I made no pretence to be masculine. No pretence that we were two men. That night there was one man and one girl in that bed.

The following morning I awoke to find Taylor innocently asleep next to me, with his cock tenting the sheet. I didn’t have to think twice as I crawled over and sucked that cock until his morning load splashed deep in my throat. Taylor didn’t open his eyes, but he did let out a contented moan and stroked my hair as I sucked him.

I got up afterwards and went downstairs to make breakfast, and just as I was finishing, Taylor appeared, nude with his soft cock, still a good seven inches of thick man-flesh swinging between his legs. “Hey baby,” he called. “You seriously didn’t make me breakfast?” He looked shocked.

“I did,” I smiled. “It’s what big boys do.”

“You treat me so good,” he chuckled and sat down at the table, devouring his first helping of pancakes before I had time to even eat one of mine.

“Do you want more?” I couldn’t help but smile at his youthful appetite. 

“Only if you will,” he remained so polite it was adorable. 

“I’m in my 40s,” I smiled. “I can’t allow myself such a privilege. But you’re still a growing boy, I’ll cook you more.”

“If you’re a good girl and stick to your diet I’ll make sure you’re well fed,” Taylor teased.

“You’re kidding...” I said aloud. I’d just blown him about 20 minutes ago.

“When you’ve finished making those pancakes why don’t you take off that dressing gown and crawl under the table. I’ve got more than enough for my girl.”

Those pancakes were very slapdash, but they were made quickly. I dropped my robe and crawled under the table with the haste of a true slut. And sure enough Taylor’s cock was standing straight to attention. He sat forward in his chair to help me, and I gratefully took his load for the second time that morning. 

“I like going on dates with you,” Taylor said, reaching up to kiss me on the lips as he was leaving. “Can I see you again?”

“For a date or just sex?” I said, a little sarcastically. 

Taylor looked quite hurt, but he covered it up with a brave smile. “I know we’re years apart in age and all that. But I’m game to see where this goes if you are. And I really like you.”

His youthful innocence melted the heart of this bitter old queen. Maybe there could be a future. “Very well,” I sighed. “One more date.”

Taylor’s face broke into a huge grin. “You won’t regret it Daddy,” he smiled.

I must have looked briefly confused at him calling me ‘Daddy’, so he quickly added. “I’m outside the flat.” And he lent up, gave me another kiss, and skipped down the hallway. “And don’t worry,” he added, truing around briefly. “Not every date has to end with sex.”