Brian’s been stroking me casually since the opening credits, an hour-and-a-half ago. We take our shirts off to watch movies because I like to feel his skin against me, the whole of my back resting across his chest. He's lying on the couch with his head propped up with pillows. I'm cradled in the V of his legs with one of his arms holding me in place. He's touching me everywhere. His right hand is stroking the skin on my belly, occasionally dipping in to my trousers to brush his fingers through my pubes or quickly skim my cock, which has been standing to attention for the past 85 minutes. Sometimes he’ll use his little finger to trace the head and occasionally dip and search the slit for the pre cum that’s been bubbling up. Then he’ll bring his hand up and let me suck my flavour off his fingers and start the process all over again. His foot in the meantime intermittently crawls up my calf and lightly strokes my ankle. His other hand is weaving fingers through my hair, irregularly massaging my scalp and sometimes traces my brow, or the edge of my lips, or cheekbones, brushing over the delicate skin directly below my eyes. Rarely his tongue breaks out and licks the ridge of my ear and pulls at the lobe and he knows that for me that’s like pulling at my cock. He seems totally unaffected as if he hardly notices what he's doing but he's hard beneath me. He seems in no hurry to move this along though. I’ve never been this hard in my life. Not since that time… shit that’s not helping. I'm languid, boneless. Finally I give in and I gasp out his name. The hand, which until then, had only seemed concerned with the upper half of my body and had at that moment been tracing my nipples, comes up and closes around my throat. Tight but not tight enough to stop air flow just tight enough for me to know that he holds all the power that he could do whatever he wants to me. What he doesn’t know is that I'd let him do anything to me, regardless of how he's holding me down, or maybe he does know that. He has the control. He feels every breath I take and every time I have to swallow to get rid of the saliva that’s building up in my mouth quicker and quicker as my body begins to ache for him. His other hand undoes the button of my jeans, pulls the zip down holding it close to my dick slowly so I can feel every click of movement and the rush of danger. He then dips into my underwear and curls his fingers around the shaft. All I can feel is the heat of his hands and I hold my breath waiting for him to move. After a moment his mouth moves towards my ear and he says “You know most people find breathing to be an essential element of the remaining alive thing. You shouldn’t give up on it quite yet.” I moan and try to elbow my way up to a sitting position so as to better lecture him in the cruelty involved in torture but the hand around my neck keeps me tight against him and his hold on my cock is strong and he chooses that moment to run his thumb over the head and Fuck… I whimper and my hands come up to pull at the one at my neck. “Don’t!” he commands “Brian… please?” I beg. My body’s been humming, vibrating for so long. It won’t be long before I'm listless. It won’t take very much more to make me cum. “What do want?” “…You.” I breathe, I plead. “Ok.” He strokes me “Then stop trying to… just trust me to get you where you want to go.” I groan and sigh and I let go. He's holding on to my neck and passing his thumb over my lips, rubbing them. It hurts, but when it's too much, too dry, too sensitive, I lick my lips so that his thumb glides smother. I keep having to lick my lips; I've lost count how many times. My hands hang by my side. Initiative is a word that’s 3 syllables longer then any I could comprehend at the moment. So I won’t move or do anything but moan until I'm told otherwise. Brian lets go of my cock and props himself up into more of a seated position still holding me to his chest and orders me to take my trousers and underwear off. I manage to do that, pushing them down with my feet and in the process rubbing my ass into his crotch. He moans and the hand round my neck tightens for a second. He bends my left leg so that my knee hooks over the back of the couch, my other leg he drapes over the side so that my toes almost touch the floor. It leaves me so open, so exposed. His hand disappears for a second into the couch cushions and comes back wet with lube. I briefly wonder how he did that but the details just aren’t registering. He gets me wet and slick, my cock, balls and crack, I'm sure I'm a mess and I'm just as sure that I don’t care. My heads resting on his shoulder and he catches the skin at the angle of my jaw and bites and sucks and sometimes blows on the skin there, which makes me shiver, he's marking me… and he's moving so slowly, so slowly. He's playing with my nipples with the hand that had been playing with my cock. I don’t know whether to be glad that he's pinching and lightly running his finger nails across them in just the way I like or that he isn’t touching my cock or sticking his hand in my ass. I'm panting. I think I've been panting for a while now but I hadn’t noticed. He turns my face up to his so that he can kiss me. I try to kiss him back but end up just opening my mouth and allowing his tongue to do whatever it wants to me. I'm sensing a pattern suddenly but I'll think about it later, if I remember. He stops playing with my nipples and starts to lightly stroke my chest and tummy, until he reaches the crease where my leg meets my crotch. He stroking up and down getting closer and closer to my ass. My breath hitches when he crosses over to my other side and I moan a plea. I barely register when suddenly he's got two fingers in my ass and he's circling them touching and rubbing all of me that he can reach pausing sometimes to stroke and massage my prostate. It's not enough, I want him, and his cock inside me splitting me open but God I want to cum. The need to cum more important then asking for him to let me go, to move me or for him to let go of my neck, which at the moment I feel is the only thing keeping me grounded. I can feel my orgasm creeping up. So fast from the second he started touching me inside. I hear myself groan and Brian’s breathing in my ear. I move one of my arms behind and above me. I need to touch him I need… I just fucking need. His fingers are a constant pressure on my prostate and soon I'll… “Justin! Justin!” he's saying my name. I listen to him. “Don’t cum. Justin I don’t want you to come.” …I'm going to pretend I wasn’t listening to him. Although my automatic reaction to what he said was to moan loudly… or maybe that’s because he's slipped his thumb inside. He's got two fingers and his thumb and he's stretching me and God it feels good the burning, God I love the burning. “Justin don’t cum. Your not allowed to cum” I don’t understand. …Whys he still touching me like that… with that same intention to make me cum if he doesn’t want me to. “Brian? I…? …Guh!” That’s good for the first attempt. Right? “Don’t cum.” He says it firmer now but he continues to massage my prostate and I just… I just can't think… and why is he still doing that if he doesn’t want me to cum. I need to cum, my legs already trying to curl towards me, to prepare me for the intensity of my orgasm. “No, no, no… Brian? …Please? …I… Brian? … Just need. God Brian please?” “Justin make it stop. I can tell you’re close I want you to make it stop. Your balls, so tight.” “I can't Brian. Stop! Stop… moving… fingers. I can't slow it down… Please Brian?” I'm sobbing now, my leg’s flexing, my back arching, my hand clutching at his hair, I might be hurting him and I'm shaking and God please let me cum. He's fingers keep twisting inside me. “Justin! Make! It! Stop!” How? God how? I just… I can't think. “I know it’ll hurt but it's going to be too late if you don’t! Stop it now!” I finally register what he wants from me. “No, no Brian… please don’t make me.” My breath hitching after every word. I think I'd be hyperventilating if it weren’t for his thumb rubbing the pulse in my neck in a steady rhythm as if he's keeping time for me. “Justin… Do it! Now!” I cry out and quickly move my hand to the vein on my cock and inch towards the base and press. I don’t know if I made it in time. But the second I'm there Brian stops probing my ass and comes to help, pulling my full balls away from my body to stop them from rising. He's sucking at the pulse in my neck now. I feel him as if he were a part of my heartbeat. I turn on my side and curl my legs up, bury my face in his chest and try to steady my breathing, the hand that was around my neck stroking through my hair and down my back. Brian’s whispering and muttering sweet nothings as he holds me. He always does that when he's making me suffer something particularly intense. I don’t know if he knows that he does that for me. He sits up and I slide off him, my head resting lower, on his thigh as he starts to take off his jeans. I'm still trying to remember how to breathe. I don’t want to look at him right now. I'm feeling so fucking vulnerable and I just… feel like crying and fuck I need to cum and I really just need to cum. “Justin, come here.” He’s stroking my side with a little bit of pressure to encourage my movement. I'm aching but I follow his directions. I sit up and swing one leg over, to straddle him keeping my face down, my forehead on his shoulder so that he can't see me. He's got a condom on. When did that happen? He's so hard, so hard and… fuck it, if my mouth doesn’t water. It's so tempting to stand up right now, back straight and walk off, to leave him, hard and wanting me as payback for two hours of such fucking intense foreplay and not letting me cum… Fuck! Thinking about it is getting me agitated and slightly pissed off. I'd love to have the strength to leave right now but to do that I'd be depriving myself of some really good fucking sex… and I really need sex right now.