His Pussy Boy (part 2)

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“What does it mean?” I murmured against his pecs. My eyes were drawn towards the wolf-canine creature on his right arm. I was still panting after the delirious sex we just had, and my voice was hoarse from the screams of ecstasy that always accompanied our fervent coupling. I repeated, turning to look into his eyes, “What does it mean? Your tattoo.”

He adjusted his glasses, the lenses slightly cloudy from his exertions. “Mmm? Oh that.” He grinned. “It was a bet, one which I lost. So I had to get the tattoo. The artist asked me about the design. I said I wanted him to draw a dog, after my old puppy which died.” His grin turned pensive. “I loved that dog. So I got the tattoo in his honor.” 

“How did he die?” I was absent-mindedly playing with his nipple.

“A car hit him.” 

My fingers stopped their fanciful movements. I looked up at him, tears pooling in my eyes. “No.”

“It happens.”

“I’m so sorry your puppy dog died,” I murmured. I laid back on his pecs, and pulsed my ass rim around his half-tumescent cock. John let out a groan, and his cock rapidly filled back to life. His mighty thighs, those that had spent many times between mine in nights of rapture, shifted restlessly. 

“Fuck baby, you’re insatiable tonight.” He turned us around, with me lying now on the silk sheets, the perfumed sheets that Lisa had chosen to adorn their marriage bed. His erection did not escape my ensnare, my darkness, my pussy. His pussy, really, because by this time he had more knowledge of my secret anatomy than anyone save myself.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I kept repeating as he began his deep thrusts, counteracted by my anal contractions. He stared at the beads of sweat that formed on my neck that dripped down to the valley of my chest, and bent down to suck them from my skin. He once said to me it was because if he were to suck on my neck, he was sure Lisa would notice the ensuing bruise on my fair skin. Not that he was afraid that Lisa, dear gentle, good-natured Lisa, would ever say anything or ask questions. But tonight was a special occasion.

I had been working for the Chens for a year. In fact I was the one who watched and clapped in glee as baby Kevin took his first steps, right on time before his first birthday. I recorded the whole thing and showed Lisa and John the video after they both came home from their jobs. That night John came into my room and fucked me three times in celebration. That was also the first time he sucked my cock, even though I was so turned on that I came after what seemed like five seconds of his oral ministration.

I did not know how after so long Lisa still was in the dark about me and her so-called lovely husband. Lovely was not what I had in mind as he carried me practically impaled on his cock, my smaller frame hanging on for dear life as he shift-walked from the door to the bed across the small room they put me in - in broad daylight. He had a promotion at his job, he later explained, and felt so elated that he had just had to fuck me as Lisa was cooking downstairs. We giggled like schoolgirls later recalling how his cock felt even deeper inside me when I was in mid-air - a position we replicated many times since.

Tonight was a special night, a night we had looked forward to for a month. Lisa and Kevin were away at her parents’, for a family reunion, something or other. It was not important, what was important was the fact that John had excused himself from attending, citing work responsibilities, thus providing us four days of uninterrupted blissful sex. 

The first day itself John called into his job and got a week’s worth of permission to work-from-home. As he was making the call I was doing a mock strip-tease across the room, wearing his shirt and nothing else. His shirt was too large for my body, but bonus points had to be awarded for ending up smelling like him, he said. He was watching my body writhe sinuously even as he bargained with his supervisors in his bathrobe, but he managed to secure his appointment. His erection was already turgid and leaking by the time he closed the call. He ended up fucking two weeks worth of cum into my quivering asshole, screaming and roaring his orgasm, uncaring of who might hear us.

That night as Lisa called in, I was sucking on John’s rampant erection. As Baby Kevin coo-cooed across the line I descended ever so slowly on John’s meaty cock, holding in my moans. John rained kisses down my spine, playing with my nipple, as Lisa droned on and on. Eventually the call ended, and as he threw the phone somewhere behind the pillows he wrestled me down across the downy sheets, throwing away the feminine throws and cute little bolsters, leaving a stark king-sized bed ready for more sex.

I ended the night upside down on my head, as John discovered his erection was more flexible than he thought and he tried fucking me as he sat on the headboard. The view, with his biceps and lats flexing in the low light from the en-suite bathroom, him looking down intensely at where his cock went into my body, was nothing short of delicious, and brought me to the umpteenth orgasm of the day. How would I survive three more days like this?

“Fuck, pussy boy. You’re gonna be the death of me.” John huffed as he came down from his climax. “Fuck. I need to pee. Then I need fluids.” He rose from the bed and shuffled into the en-suite. I laid on the bed, catching my breath, when suddenly the light went out, and out of the bathroom came John with a candle and a tiny box in his hand, a big smile on his handsome face.

“Here, I got you something.” That something turned out to be a ring, a thick platinum band with ‘My PB’ etched on the inside. 

“My PB?”

His grin grew wider. “My pussy boy, of course.”

My heart caught in my throat. Never in a hundred years I would peg John Chen for someone of soft sentiments, but apparently I caught him under the wire. Tears ran down my cheeks as I wore the ring for the first time, signifying that I was indeed his pussy boy. I gave him a deep kiss, which he returned wholeheartedly. 

“So, is this four-day holiday our honeymoon?”

“Yeah. I’ve planned this for a while now.”

“I can tell.” The ring glinted in the candle light. “I love my ring. I love it so much. And I love you, so much.” Even after all our sexual shenanigans I could feel John’s cock swiftly re-hardening. He kissed me again.

“I know, babe.” There it was, our tacit agreement that he would never say ‘I love you’, that after all smokes and mirrors he was after all still a married man, with a child. But it was enough, enough for me, after all said and done, to be his pussy boy.