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Your relationship with Chris was a simple one. You both enjoyed spending time together and pretty regularly hung out when your own schedules allowed. What began as just half-joking flirting became just flirting, which eventually ended up with his hand down your pants and his dick in your mouth. It honestly didn’t change much between you two, all things considered. It was just a to lot easier to have a good fuck every now and then, and when you were done you could watch old wrestling tapes and cuddle together like friends would. It felt different from the romantic relationships you had before. There was less pressure and expectations, but you still cared and looked out for each other.
In the warm light of the izakaya, the two of you sat across from each other, squeezed into a corner booth. The air was humid and heavy with the sound of glasses clinking and the scent of fried food. Next to you, Mao and Masa were chatting about… well, something. You’d lost track of the conversation after getting distracted by the way Chris fiddled with his half-full beer glass, delicately tracing the rim with his finger absentmindedly as he scrolled through twitter. Your gaze traveled up to his arms and man, he really did put on some muscle. The sleeves of his t-shirts had become tighter around his biceps and shoulders. Always rolled up at least a little bit just to show off.
“Oi, what do you think?” Masa gave you a nudge from across the table, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Huh? What were you talking about? I wasn’t listening.” Mao doubles over in boisterous laughter, to which Masa responds with a chop to his head.
“Oh forget it, I gotta get going anyways.” Masa got up from his seat and started collecting his things, paying his tab, and eventually leaving with a wave from the rest of you. Mao followed soon after, leaving just you and Chris. Chris had been a bit quieter than usual tonight, granted he was pretty busy. The amount of work he did seemed exhausting, so you didn’t think much of it.
After finishing his beer, he clapped his hands together.
“Well then, shall we go?” he asked.
“Really, already? You’re calling it a night before 9pm?” You both usually stayed out pretty late when you drank.
“Not exactly…” he drawled, shooting you a sly smile.
His warm palm made it’s way to your thigh under the table in silent invitation.
You smile, it had been awhile since you two had spent some time alone together. “Well then, lead the way.”
Stepping through the threshold of his apartment, the smell of incense and sandalwood greets you as you slip off your shoes. Chris busies himself with tidying his already remarkably clean apartment. You notice a box sitting with the other shoes. Curiosity gets the better of you, taking a peek inside, you see the special Nine Inch Nails Doc Martens he had talked about awhile back. They were black with splotches of white smeared all over the leather. You hold them gently, like they were made of glass. the last thing you wanted was to somehow ruin them.
“Those just came in last night.” he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and leaning down to rest his chin on the top of your head.
“Pretty cool right?” he asked. You’d never owned a pair of docs before, truth be told. You’d seen them every now and then, and even considered getting a pair a few times, but it just never felt right. However, something about the smell, the texture of the jet black leather, it was pretty sexy all things considered.
“Yeah…” you trailed off. In a flash, you envisioned yourself kneeling under Chris. Desperately seeking release against stiff leather, all while he looked on in reverence. The vision made your cheeks burn, and it wasn’t long until he took notice.
“You okay?” he asked, looking down at you. You can’t bring yourself to respond, too deep in thoughts of Chris standing above you as he teases you with that wicked smile on his face.
“You’re into this kind of thing, aren’t you?” he derails your train of thought.
“What?”
“These, the shoes.” he points at the boot you’re carefully holding.
“What? No! I mean…” Sure Chris had liked some questionable posts on instagram, but it could just be an aesthetic appreciation. Chris laughs at your hesitation.
“‘m not judging, I’m just curious.” He assures, you can feel him pressed up against your back as his hands travel down your body.
“Tell me what you were thinking about.” he moves down to your belt, loosening it and unbuttoning your pants to slip his hands under your waistband.
“Using them to get off.” you whisper, worried that if you spoke any louder the moment would shatter.
“How would you do that?” he probes.
“Grinding against them… while you’re wearing them.” you struggle to get the words out as he traces his fingers over where your boxers are starting to become soaked.
You can feel Chris’ smile grow behind you.
“Well we can certainly make that happen.” Before you can even respond, he’s already stolen the boots from your hands. He strides towards the small couch in the main area of his apartment. (It would be a bit generous to call it a living room, but it works for him.) He’s already sat down and started unlacing them when you catch up to him.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, why not? I haven’t worn them outside or anything.”
There’s a moment of silence, looking down before you ask again.
“Like, absolutely, 1000% sure?”
“Didn’t I just say yes?”
“I know, it’s just.…”
It’s just that you spent hundreds of dollars on these shoes that sold out almost immediately after being released and now I’m telling you I want to grind on them while you watch?
“Did you ever consider that maybe I’m into this little idea of yours too?” he looks up at you after finishing lacing the first boot. You stop for a moment before giving a shrug.
“Well, I am. For the record. That’s why I’m doing this with you.” He reaches his hand up to hold yours for a second before bringing it up to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.
“Now take that shirt off before I tear it off you.” You scoff, he knows full well that you would not be opposed to him actually doing that. Being with Chris has always been easy like this. He’s not afraid to speak up or try new things and encouraged the same thing from you. Deciding that you’d like to keep this t-shirt in one piece, you pull it over your head and throw it onto the couch, with your pants follow soon after.
After tying the last knot, Chris sits in front of you, fingers hooked on the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulling them off you. You drop down to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact all the way. He sits with his legs open wide, giving you room to slot yourself between them. Nuzzling your face into his thigh, relishing in his attention as he strokes your cheek and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “So perfect, all for me.” You blush at his praise, filled with the desire to please.
“Go on, rut against my boot like a good boy.”
You position yourself, straddling Chris’ boot. A jolt goes through you as your wet cunt finally makes contact with cold leather. You start to move, your dick just barely grazing against the slick surface. You start to drag yourself back and forth, quickly making the leather wet and warm.
“Good boy, that’s what I like to see.”
He ruffles your hair and you lay your head back into his lap, talking notice of his growing bulge. “You want a treat?” he coos, unbuckling his belt and popping open the button. Before he can do it himself, you bite down on the zipper and drag it down for him. You can feel him twitch under your lips. Your hips halt for a second while you’re caught up in the process of getting Chris out of that pair of stupid of leopard print boxer briefs.
“C’mon, keep moving those hips” He pulls his underwear down to free his half-hard cock, lightly slapping it against your cheek to encourage you to open up and get back to the task at hand. You comply, tasting him on your tongue, heavy and hot.
When you thrust your hips forward it feels like a current runs through your body. The texture of the leather rubbing against your sensitive clit making you squirm. You desperately repeat the same motion, chasing that weightless feeling.
“Does that feel good?” his voice drips with condescension, you answer with a nod and a broken whine.
“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He smiles, somewhere between sinister and awestruck.
Chris guides your head to take him deeper into your mouth until your nose is pressed into his light happy trail. Fighting against your gag reflex, you quicken the pace of your hips, panting and desperately seeking release. Each drag of your clit against the smooth leather gets you closer and closer. Drool trickles down your cheek as you start to move your mouth up and down his cock. Chris lets out ragged breaths as you continue.
“Just look at you, nothing but a bitch in heat, desperate to get pinned down and fucked by whoever’s willing.”
You whimper, wanting to deny what he says, but the sweet haze of submission is too strong. Any thought you have being washed away by wave after wave of pleasure.
“Even when I’m talking down to you, you love it. So easy to please.” Feeling that familiar tug in the pit of your stomach, you pull off him and rush to get the words out.
“Please let me cum, please Chris, I need it so bad-“ you plead, eyes wet with tears.
He guides his cock back into your mouth before answering, “Good boy. Go on, cum for me.”
It’s only a few more thrusts before that tight coil of arousal snaps and leaves you shaking as wave after wave wrecks you. You moan obscenely around Chris’ cock. He fucks your mouth as you cum, jaw slack and spit running down your chin to your chest. He thrusts a little too fast and hard, making you gag and your throat tighten.
“Such a good boy, fuck-“ Before he can even finish he’s cumming in your mouth, quickly pulling out so you can clear your throat. He’s more than satisfied with letting the rest coat your face. It makes you feel dirty and used. It’s perfect.
After both of you start to catch your breath, Chris leans down and grabs your chin and licks a string of cum off your face before getting to work untying his shoes. It’s almost enough to get you hard again.
He stands, putting the docs to the side and strips off his pants and throwing them into his laundry bin. He walks over to the bathroom while you retrieve your underwear. When he returns, he takes your face in his hand, using a small towel with warm water to clean your face off.
“How was it?” he asks, wiping down your cheek.
“Perfect, my knees will probably be sore in the morning though.” Chris gives a little laugh. When he’s done, you sit up straight, looking at him expectantly.
“What?” he asks.
“No kiss? How rude.” you pout.
Chris makes a show of rolling his eyes and relents, leaning in. Before your lips make contact you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him eagerly. It quickly turns heated, becoming a fight for who can rile the other up more. When you break apart, both of you are breathless.
“Didn’t think you’d be satisfied with just one round.” Chris smiles. You wrap your hand around where his dick is starting to strain against his boxers again, drawing a strained groan from the back of his throat.
“Without getting this thing in me? I don’t think so.” you tease, “Now get me off this floor and fuck me into your mattress like a proper gentleman.” He obeys, scooping you up off the ground and bringing you to his room.
The rest of the night is marked by brain-melting orgasms and sharing body heat. When you eventually tire each other out, you curl up and let sleep wash over you. In the morning you’ll make pancakes and watch old WCW shows, maybe some lazy morning sex. For now though, rest comes easy with strong arms wrapped around you. You’ll always be grateful for this strange little life you’ve created for yourself.