Oh, I think he’s going to beverygood for me and my gorgeous husband.
“Before we go any further, Oliver, I would like to ask you some questions and go over some ground rules,” I say. He leans closer, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on them as he gives me his full attention. Excellent. “Fully informed consent is integral to what we do, and nothing happens without it.”
“Yes, Master,” he murmurs, this time more confidently.
“Wonderful,” I continue. “While I talk, I would like you to eat.”
I gesture to the untouched cake stand, filled with dozens of tiny pastries, all different from each other. “Um, okay,” Oliver agrees, lowering his hands and eying up the display. “Are you going to have some?”
Despite my intention to keep up an authoritative demeanor, the corner of my mouth tugs up again. How adorable that he’s considering me before he digs in.
“No. I’m going to watch you.”
He pauses for a moment before apparently realizing that, yes, part of what I desire is watching him enjoying his food.His pleasure will also be mine. Besides, he looks like he could do with a few extra meals in him. If that’s his natural physique, then that’s absolutely fine. But my gut instinct tells me as he nibbles on the first cake and moans that this boy doesn’t quite get enough to eat.
That kicks offallmy protective instincts. But—for now at least—I tamper them down.
Tentatively, Oliver selects a miniature red velvet cupcake next and puts this one in his mouth whole, letting out another quiet moan as he chews. A crumb of frosting clings to his lower lip, and after he swallows, his tongue darts out to retrieve it. If we knew each other better, I would have leaned over and kissed it off for him.
Maybe next time.
Satisfied that he’s got something in his stomach with more to follow, I begin my enquiry. “Oliver. Am I right in thinking that you’ve never been a submissive before?”
He swallows and looks guilty. “Um, no, Master. I haven’t. Sorry.”
We’ve only been talking for a few minutes, but his frequent self-deprecation is already hurting my heart. It occurs to me that if I were to gag him, he wouldn’t be able to berate himself quite so often.
I shake my head. That’s a thought for another time. “No need to apologize. Your newness to the scene was clear in your reply. I appreciate honesty, Oliver. That’s why you’re here.”
He rolls an empty cake case between his fingers. “That doesn’t put you off?”
I try not to let my smile become too feral. “That tantalizes me, little treat. It’s rare I get the chance to mold someone precisely to my liking. But I trust you’re not totally inexperienced sexually?”
“Oh, no, I’m not,” he says happily, then pauses. “I mean…yes. Or…?” He shakes his head. “I mean, I’ve had plenty of fun withplenty of guys. Older guys, mostly. That’s definitely my jam. But I’ve never done anything like you’re suggesting.”
“But you’re open to it?” I clarify.
He grins bashfully, eyes on his next tiny bite. “Very open.”
I smirk, enjoying the mild innuendo. I wish I’d asked him to wear a plug to this meeting now, just so I’d know that I was already inside him in a way.
“What interests you about my proposition, Oliver?”
He squirms in his seat, eating another cake before answering. “Everything,” he murmurs with a nervous giggle. “I want to try having a Daddy. That’s the only part of your ad that I’ve thought seriously about before. I’ve never had a threesome, but I like the idea of, um, being used by a couple. Like a prop or a thing.”
“You would be a gift,” I correct him softly. “A gift that will be thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated.”
He exhales and nods. “Wow, yeah. That makes me feel really special. Like nothing I’ve ever done before. Important. Is that arrogant?”
“That’s precisely the intention,” I inform him.
He nods again, a smile playing on his lips like he can’t really believe what he’s hearing.
“Go on,” I say. “What else excites you?”
He takes a second to drink from his water glass, washing down the cake crumbs and sugar from the hot chocolate. “The idea of making someone happy just by being myself,” he says so quietly, I almost don’t catch every word. “Can I ask what your husband is like? Do you think he’d, um, appreciate me?”
“I know he will,” I say honestly. “I wouldn’t have messaged you otherwise. Is there anything else you’d like to know about him before we go on?”