“You’re good where you are.”
He lifts his feet onto the chair, running fingers over the goosebumps of his arm. “You going to join me?”
“In a bit. I want you to take the rest of your clothes off for me first.”
“For only you?” His gaze sweeps over the camera I’m standing next to, and I nod.
“Me and the camera.”
He bites on his lower lip, eyes cast down, as he wiggles his hips out of his shorts. He kicks them to the floor. His lack of underwear takes me by surprise. “Not too much to take off,”
I smirk. “No. I guess not. You’ll have to do something else to keep me entertained now.”
“How about this?” His voice is smooth like honey as he lies back on the table, spreading his legs and rubbing a hand over his hardening cock.
“That’s good, but I’m going to need a little more than that.”
His head is lolling halfway off the table and he looks up at me, rolling his hips as he grabs the knife from beside him. I didn’t realize I’d left it there, but it really does add to the scene. The metal shines against his skin and he slides the flat surface over each of his nipples, moaning.
I undo my jeans when they get too uncomfortably tight around my growing erection. They fall to my feet with one gentle shove, and I step to the side of them, sliding down my underwear next. My cock springs free, and his eyes stay on me as he traces the thickening veins of his cock with the dull side of the butter knife.
“You’re so perfect for the camera. I’m never prepared for what you’ll give me, and I’m always in fucking awe.”
His eyes flutter closed, the flat surface of the knife smearing the precum from his tip over more of his skin. I just about lose it where I stand, my fingers itching to touch him.
“Come here,” he says needily, with his eyes fluttering open.
I step forward, fisting my cock, and I smile as I run a finger between his pecs, trailing it all the way down to where his pubic hair begins. He shudders, the knife still gripped tightly in his hand. I grab his wrist, guiding the knife to my thigh, and roll my fingers over his, pressing down hard until my skin stings. I make him rub the sharp edges over my skin roughly until I’m bleeding. It doesn’t do much damage since it’s only a butter knife, but it’s another stepping stone.
His eyes widen and he tries to pull away, but I hold his hand in place before helping him create another cut in my skin.
“You’re bleeding,” he says.
“You like making me bleed, don’t you? “
“I . . . I shouldn’t.”
“But you do.” It’s a statement, not a question. He looks to the camera and back at me, lifting his head from the table and pressing into another part of my skin with me.
I bite the insides of my cheeks when he widens the cut, dragging the blade without the help of my hand. He’s got fucking stars in his eyes. This isn’t something he’s done by accident with a prop. It’s not pretend either.
He keeps going, causing me to bleed from more places, stopping after slicing a little too close to my cock. “Is this all part of the movie?”
“Yeah. A very important part.”
“Have I been entertaining enough?” There’s a snarkiness in his tone and I love it.
“You’ve been perfect.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth and brings the blade to his mouth, licking off my blood. “How about now?”
“Even more so.”
“What’s next?”
“You coming with me buried inside you so I can see if you like my cock better than the dildo.”
“I think I will . . . I’m pretty sure I will.” He drops the knife beside him, and I go to my bag to grab some lube, quickly returning to where I was.