“Oh? Does that mean I get something special?” Taylor asked as he pulled out his phone.
“Maybe.” I ran a hand over his leg teasingly. Maybe I’d put on a show for him, put some pretty panties on, touch myself, and let him watch me fuck myself with my toys until he couldn’t take it any longer and had to take over. That sounded fun.
It didn’t take me long to edit and post a couple of photos. I only had to adjust the lighting on them and smooth them out before adding my blog name to the corner. I’d gone with Taylor’s before and after idea. The first one was of me spread out in my panties and stockings, hard cock straining against the lace, the dark pink head contrasting with the soft white material. The second was a similar shot, but this time the lace was stained and covered in thick ropes of cum, my cock soft and the panties clearly displaced. The contrast of innocence and lust. I’d debated making them black and white, since the white lace would look so pretty and stark, but I’d decided against it for this set. I still had plenty of photos to play with.
I posted them together, adding a little caption underneath.
Before and after. Very sexy times with my boyfriend. He makes me come so hard. <3
We hadn’t talked about tagging Mr. Smith in the posts, but it was something I wanted to think about. Although, I wasn’t sure it would be good for Taylor’s ego to get so many compliments.
“Very nice,” Taylor said, leaning over my shoulder and kissing my neck. “You looked so fucking sexy when I took those. I love how innocent you looked at first, even though I know you’re a sexy little slut for me.”
“Did you message Aiden?” I asked, determined to get an answer before we lost ourselves to sex for the rest of the afternoon. My body was already humming with desire, my cock tenting in the loose joggers I was wearing. I wondered how far I’d get into fucking myself on a dildo before Taylor took it away from me and replaced it with his cock. My toys were fun, but they were never going to beat his dick. It was too perfect.
“All done. Now, what’s my reward?” He tugged at my shirt playfully. “Come on, get naked. I want to have fun with you.”
I pushed him off gently so I could set the laptop down. “You get to choose two toys to watch me play with… and the colour of my panties.”
Taylor’s eyes lit up with excitement and desire. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. This is going to be so much fun.” He paused, kneeling up and leaning towards me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me in for a deep kiss. “I’m so fucking glad your toys ran out of batteries when they did. And that you said yes to me. I’m so fucking lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky too. Although I’m still sad about the batteries.” I chuckled. “Having them run out just before you come ruins everything.”
“Oh, sweet boy,” Taylor said, his voice sending a shiver across my skin. “I don’t think that will be a problem today.” There was a dark glint in his eye that promised so much, but there was love there too—fierce, intense and all-encompassing.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this would happen; that our ‘just-sex’ arrangement would lead to both of us getting everything we’d ever wanted. Maybe we were just lucky, but I knew I loved Taylor more than anything in the world. And I knew we’d be together forever.
This was just the beginning.
Part Seven: Mine
One Year Later
Simon
“Is that the last of it?”
“I think so,” I called down the stairs to the door where Taylor stood half-in and half-out of our new flat. “Just double-check the van, but I think we’ve got everything.”
“Will do. Back in a second.” The door slammed shut, and I made my way into our tiny bedroom, trying to ignore the heaps of boxes and bags piled on the floor before flopping down on our new bed.
It had been a year since Taylor had accidentally declared his love for me in front of Connor, and we’d decided to celebrate by doing the most hideous of all tasks: moving house.
We’d been fine in the flat with Steve for the past twelve months. Our two bedrooms gave us plenty of space to play and sleep, and we’d ended up turning mine into a sort of studio for the blog.
Steve had been great about everything, and Taylor and I had made sure not to act like assholes just because we were together. But over the past few months, Steve had been spending more and more time at Olivia’s as their relationship turned into something more serious, and we’d all agreed our flat-share was coming to an end. Our rental agreement had been coming up for renewal, so we’d had a heart-to-heart over pizza and decided to go our separate ways.
Taylor and I had then spent three very long, painful weeks trying to find somewhere to live that we could both afford and wasn’t a complete cesspit. Which in London was like looking for a fucking three-headed giraffe.
We’d found one eventually. I’d been doing my morning trawl through Rightmove when it had suddenly appeared, and I’d called the letting agency on the spot. I think they were a little surprised because it had only been on the market for ten minutes, but I’d still managed to organise a viewing. Taylor had gone to see it over his lunch hour, because he was the closest, and when he’d called me to say it was good, I’d taken an emergency afternoon off work to go and fill in the application paperwork.
Now we were the proud renters of a tiny little flat of our own, above a charity shop in
