The Vanilla Dynamic

Danny

I swear everything this man wore made me hard and wet all over again. Cyrus was standing in the doorway to my dorm like every other time before. Except this time was different, this time he stood here in the fallout of the fundraiser. His very expression and body language told me everything was different now. His usual stern expectant look softened into doubt and insecurity. His brows bowed above searching blue eyes. Soft lips pursed into an anxious squiggle. His shoulders folded over his casual t-shirt and athletic sweater. His hands stuffed into the pockets of brushed denim. His hair laid ungelled on his head, the same peppered color of his scruff. I swallowed as tight heat wrapped a fist around my insides.

My own anxiety strangled my stomach, choking the sass from my voice, "Cyrus."

Those storm cloud eyes shot right through me. "Danny. We should talk."

I wanted to straddle him on that bed and mouth off to him until he broke me. Especially in those tight jeans. But I digress. We needed to talk. We so needed to talk even if my cock had other plans. "I don't really want to talk, Cyrus. But we should."

His eyes darkened as he caught my meaning. Those eyes found the floor and he swallowed just as hard as I did. I bit my lip. He wants me too. Talk, Danny. Talk. I stepped aside, knowing the danger of inviting him into my space. He stepped into my dorm, smelling of spicy aftershave that went to my cock. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my chubby to shut up. I was the spark and Cyrus was gasoline, both of us caught in the flames when we burned bright and hot, together.

He settled on my bed, looking like he fucking owned it just by being atop the sheets. I sat across from him, out of reach. Touching him would be like lighting a match. And. We. Should. Talk.

I crossed my legs to hide clamping my pussy shut to stop oozing. I hated my pussy until I fucked Cyrus. Having a pussy and cock felt.. right with him. Especially when he worshipped me with his tongue and mouth. That mouth right there below his long nose, the one currently clamped together as he tried to find the right words.

That gaze found everything but me until my toes curled in my own restraint. His eyes caught the movement and his brow rose. I felt his eyes just like they were his hands on my toes, the arch of my foot, up my shin to the cross of my knees. His eyes found my thighs and I almost broke. He was practically vibrating in his need to put me in his hands, hands still clenched in his pockets and the his jaw flexing. My body and heart were right there with him, insides grinding together with the object of every wet fantasy I had in the last 30 days sitting right there.

God, Danny. Focus.

He's hot as fuck. Got it.

A month with no sex was too long. Yeah, I know.

WE. HAVE. TO. TALK. FIRST.

Jeez.

I blurted, the tension in the room shaking both our bodies, "I want to be your partner. But we need real communication and healthy boundaries."

Those eyes stopped any other words from falling out of my mouth without my permission. The metal softened in his irises as my words sunk in. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "God, Danny. I want us to be partners so much. It took me far too long to realize it."

No shit. I mean but... same.

"I agree with you. We've been real shit at actually talking and setting boundaries." He confessed.

We were too busy fucking. Common for relationships in my age group. Not so much for his. Just like my therapist said, first step; take responsibility for your role in the conflict. "Some of that was me refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the thing forming between us."

"Just like some of that was me putting you in a box. Like I do with all my clients and my submissives. When you were different. You've always been different."

"I drove you crazy for years, Cyrus. That's immaturity."

"I still wanted you."

The silence that followed forced me to look toward the window.

I managed to squeak after a too quiet minute, "I wanted you too."

He licked his lips, "I need you to talk to me, Danny. When your father calls, when your friends are being shitty, when I'm too overbearing. I know your used to keeping all that in but I need to hear all of it. I hate guessing."

"Yeah. I know. I'm working on that with my therapist too."

"You can't lie to me. It's a deal breaker."

Our eyes locked.

He continued, gaze intense enough to melt metal, "You can sleep with who you want. Do what you want when you want. I'm not interested in controlling your life. I want honesty, even if it's brutal. Even if makes you feel anxious and guilty. Even if it hurts my feelings."

I nodded before saying, "You want to be Polyamorous still?"

"I'm not interested in leashing you. At least not outside of a scene."

I let that sink in. "Right so, about that control thing. Like I get that your older, super successful, shit together. But the term is partners. Not sugar daddy. I don't need one. I already have one super fucking controlling cockbite in my life. I want drive you places too. I want to pay half the bill at restaurants. I want to make plans together. Good partners... collaborate. Support each other emotionally and socially."

He smiled, like really smiled. The kind that reached his eyes. "We are on the same page there, Danny."

"That means no more fat checks to the Q."

"It's a tax write off." He mused.

I gave him a scolding glare.

He put up his hands, "Okay."

"We have to tell my father." I ruined the whole mood. "Much as I could give a shit what he thinks."

He blew out a sigh, "Yes. I've been considering that conversation with Bernard."

"I would just go up to him and give him my piece. But I don't want to damage your professional relationship with him."

He smiled again. "Have I ever told you your fucking perfect, Danny?"

I snorted. "Okay there, boy-oh. Calm your nuts. Talking to my father is going to be a shitshow."

"We have a little time. He's still in France."

"Thank fucking god."

I picked at a nail as I waded through the mush in my head for more boundaries, the ache in my guts still reminding me Cyrus was still here. I bit my lip. We covered the big ones. I mused, "You're perfect too."

He chuckled, "Far from it. But as long as you think so..."

My eyes found his, shimmering in flirtatious mirth. "Surely you didn't come over just to talk, did you, Cyrus?"

"That was my intent. I may have cleared my calendar just in case."

"Was?"

"The only you I want more than the mouthy brat is the shy, vulnerable you."

"Fucking sap."

"Words like that will earn you bruises, baby." He growled, back to vibrating in his seat.

Fuck. My brain liquified, nipples hardening to points and pussy leaking. My cock threatened to bust out of the seam of my boxers just for his attention. Still I never could keep from sassing him, "No perfectly romantic lovemaking after our confessions, Cyrus?"

His eyes grew serious for a second, "Is that what you want, Danny?"

Fuck no. Not with him. I mean, sex would be amazing with him no matter how we did it. His rough touches made me feel alive. His stern words made me feel... loved. More than any tender lovemaking ever did.

I finally dared to rise from my seat and take a step toward him. His pupils blew out and he leaned back to meet my gaze as I stood before him. Slowly, I slipped into his lap. His hands immediately found my skin, grip tight and desperate. Just as desperate as the way I clung to him. Everything was different now, but felt just the same. Just right. Just me and him and the inferno between us.

No, it was different. I could see the admiration amid the lust on his face. I could feel the way he would always catch me in the safety of his arms. He wanted to kiss me. He wanted to make love to me if I let him. I rested my forehead against his, breathing him in. No. I wanted him rough and messy, like every time we were intimate. I wanted us to make messes of each other. I knew he would take care of me after. This time I would take care of him too.

I put my breath in his ear, "I want you to split me in half with your cock and make me your bitch."

I heard him curse under his breath.

He didn't have to be told twice.

He threw me on the bed. His hands gripped and held any part of me he could get a hold of. Our mouths met in a clack of teeth and sparring of tongues. I opened wide for him, letting him take everything. Right now, we weren't in scene. I wasn't a Sub. So I fought him for every inch he tried to claim. I fisted his hair and crushed his mouth to mine, jamming my tongue in his mouth. His hand found my curls and yanked hard enough for prickles to break out on my scalp. I whimpered in his mouth and he drank the sound like the very water of life.

My stubby nails carved up his stomach and ribs above me. He let me take a breath before crushing my lips with his again. He sucked up my air and parried my tongue into submission. My legs framed his hips and forced them against me. We both groaned between the battle of our mouths as his bulge met the wet spot on my boxers.

His fingers squeezed my cheeks, raw lips pursed as he breathed against them, "Such a fucking tease, Danny."

I pulled him down onto me, "You love it."

His hips rocked mine into the mattress, eliciting a trill from me. I dug my fingers into his back.

"Not nearly as much as you like being teased, Danny." His voice gruffed against my ear.

God he wasn't wrong. Especially as his throbbing bulge rubbed my hole through the fabric of his jeans. I threw the full weight of my attitude into my words, "Is this enough for you, Cyrus? Just a little dry humping."

His fingers pulled on my curls again as his teeth caught my chin. "Only when you're grinding against me like a bitch in heat."

Oh fuck. My pussy quivered and leaked. My cockstand made me light-headed. Yet I still couldn't keep my mouth shut. "Are you going to mount me and bite my neck too?"

He did. His hips pushed against mine and his teeth dug into the fragile skin of my throat. The sharpness of his teeth met the sucking of his mouth. Marking me as his.

He rose to admire his handiwork, "Hm. Now everyone knows who you belong to."

I did my best to look unaffected. "Who knew you could be so possessive, Cyrus?"

His mouth lowered to my ear, hot breath on the bruise on my throat, "You are mine, Danny. Every inch of this hot little body is mine. Right here. Right now."

"Is that so?" I put on a brave face even as his words scalded my very soul.

He grabbed my face again, holding my lips open. "Even this fucking mouth."

"Uh huh." I riled up on purpose, knowing that would provoke the Dom in him.

"Let me prove it." His gaze was predatory as he hovered over me.

My face invited him to do just that.

A thick drop of spit spooled from his mouth and floated down to my face. I gasped as that spit hit my tongue, sliding down to my throat. Oh my god. The sheer dirtiness of the act went straight through me to my already aching pussy and cock. The edge of my orgasm lingered on the fringes of my brain already.

"Swallow it." He gave the order just like my daddy would.

I swallowed his spit.

"See. All mine." He rasped his victory.

Then I spit in his face.

Shock crept over his features. I'm pretty sure my hot daddy Dom has never been spit on, at least not like this. I watched violence cross his face, the same kind I saw when I called him an insufferable bastard. A shudder rolled over my skin. His tongue dragged over the wad of my spit on his face.

"Lick it up, baby." His voice descended into a growl, low from his throat.

There my daddy was.

"Make me."

He rubbed his spit splattered cheek on my lips, smearing it on my face. His scruff rubbed my chin raw.

"You are so hot when you're mean to me, daddy."

"You are so good at making me mean, baby."

I licked my spit off my lips for him.

I flipped us, straddling his hips and putting my hands around his head. I lowered my lips to his, "You are mine too, Cyrus."

"Yes, Danny."

I caught him in a toothy kiss before tonguing a line down the thick cords of his neck. He tasted like salt and lust and everything I wanted. I bit into him, marking him deep and dark.

He tittered my name. "D-Danny. Yes. Mark me, baby."

I sucked another bruise into his collarbone, laying my claim in his body with my mouth. I rose and gazed at the red-purple marks on his skin. There was something deeply satisfying about leaving marks on my daddy too.

He pulled my core down on his bulge again, my swollen folds rubbing against the denim. I breathed a needy moan just for him, wanting more friction.

"Let me see your chest, Danny."

I pulled off my t-shirt, exposing my hard nipples to him. His palms ran up my ribs, prickling my flesh.

"So perfect, Danny."

"Just wait until you see my soaked pussy, Cyrus."

He hissed in a breath. "I love your fucking pussy, Danny. Just like I love your needy cock."

A shiver wove up my body as I rubbed the tip of my cock against his rough denim, my cotton boxers keeping me from true pleasure. My words were breathy now, "I'm pretty sure your cock is way more needy."

"If I get any harder, I'm gonna pass out from lack of blood in my brain."

I pushed his shirt and sweater up with my hands, still seeking more delicious friction on his crotch. "We can't have that, can we?"

"Oh, I know you'll try."

I stuck out my tongue for him as I shoved his shirt up to his chin. "Have I ever told you what a hot body you have?"

"Hot for an older dude, right?" He snarked amid the lusty fugue between us.

"I know frat dudes that only speak gym and beer with less abs than you, daddy."

He shook his head as he smiled, "That's just your cock talking, baby."

"Oh? I mean your cock is pretty average." I teased him to rile him up.

He pushed me down on his bulge again, making me groan. "Keep talking like that, baby and I'll show you just how average my cock is when you feel it in your stomach."

"Oh fuck. Yes daddy." I rolled my hips on him, daring him to do just that.

"Take off those boxers, Danny. I want to see that wet pussy."

"Only you can make having a pussy feel like the best fucking thing..." I leaned down to kiss him.

"That hot little pussy is mine, Danny."

"Not yet it isn't." I hummed against his mouth.

I got my boxers off and he flipped us again, pinning me under him again. He stripped off his shirt and sweater, letting me see his chest and shoulders and marked up neck. He pulled my leg up to reveal every glistening inch between my legs. My cock barked for attention under my curls. My folds quivered, soaked with my juices down to my gaping hole. He did this with just some heavy petting and heavier words.

He bit his lip as his eyes memorized every swath of pink between my thighs. He was making me wait as he took his visual fill of me. My insides begged to be full. Begged to be pounded and broken and bruised. By his cock. By my daddy's cock.

I thumbed the button of his jeans open. "Are you hard and wet for me too, Cyrus?"

His eyes finally found mine, "You always make me a hard wet mess for you, Danny."

My insides pulsed, grinding together in need. I unzipped his jeans. I cupped his cock under his boxers, seeking his mouth, "Call me something dirty, Cyrus."

He paused, groaning as my fist closed around his throbbing cock. Clear precum stained his boxers and dribbled down his head.

"Call me beautiful after. Call me something mean, daddy." I kissed against his lips.

He clutched my wrist and slid his cock against mine. I saw stars, the slide sparking electric pleasure up my dick. His cock slid against the slick mess of my folds only to graze my cock again, shooting sparks up my spine. I moaned against the eager feel of his cock on mine.

"This pussy is trying to suck me in already. Is my slutty baby so desperate to be full of cock?"

"Oh fuck. Yes, daddy." I moaned the words with another slide of wet skin on skin.

"Whose cock are you a slut for?"

His filthy words went straight to my twitching cunt.

"Your cock, daddy."

"My baby's cock is so hard for me. Just like the little whore you are."

I was going to come with his words alone, too wound up to do anything but ache and want and beg. His cock against my folds, back to my dick, down to my folds didn't help. Again and again in a maddening cycle of teasing my entrance and teasing my dick. "Please daddy. No more teasing. Break me apart with your cock and words."

His cock buried in my hole stopped the stream of pleas on my tongue.

I gaped, suddenly, intensely full of cock. His hips met mine as his cock cleaved me in two. He slid right in, everything soaked and gaping as an invitation. Tears pricked at my eyes as his cock forced my body to accommodate him. The pricks of pain only heightened my pleasure, only brought the orgasm hovering in my skin closer to breaking through.

His hand bracketed my throat and my pussy squeezed his root. He hissed in a breath. "Fuck, Danny. You are so gods damn tight."

"I couldn't fuck anyone else. I wanted you too much."

That hand squeezed around my neck. I wished his fingers would find my windpipe and squeeze instead. His hips snapped forward, taking my thoughts with them. His cock pulled me apart as he thrusted, slow, steady, and firm. Until he knew I could take more. He held my knee and throat as he fucked, brows furrowed in concentration. I dug my palms into the mattress, pushing against him and arching my back.

I gritted, "Harder, daddy. Make a mess of your baby."

His thrusts grew faster and harder, spreading me open and driving slick ecstasy inside me. I reached up and braced against the headboard, every slap of his hips instantly hitting harder. It still wasn't enough. He's fucked me harder.

"I don't feel you in my stomach, daddy."

He pulled me on top of his hips, pulling my legs forward and holding my ankle. He slapped the head of his dick against my cock, spurning me to gasp before pressing his cock against my folds.

Our hips connected and I couldn't breathe.

So deep.

I could feel his cock embedded in the deepest parts of me, pressing against my guts, my stomach, my everything. I braced my hands on his thighs. I let my insides wrap around him, taking every thick inch past my lips. His gaze seared my skin, watching where we connected with intent. My soaking wet folds hugged his root, my hole swallowing the rest of his length. Everything between us glazed and quivering and waiting for us to move.

I bounced on his cock with every desperate urge inside my mind. I let his cock find the depths of my cunt and leave bruises. Every pleasure-stained ache wound me tighter. Brought me higher.

His grip bruised on my legs. His voice graveled, "Stroke your cock, baby. Show me how much you want to come."

My hand dipped between us, catching some of the mess between us to slick upon my too-hard dick. My voice echoed off the walls. In the melding of sudden jolting strokes of my cock and the punishing pace of his cock battering my insides, my orgasm clamped down on me.

"Fuck, baby. Your pussy is strangling my dick."

I was close. I was so so close. "This pussy is yours, daddy."

"Yes baby. This delicious, glorious, tight pussy is perfect. And all mine."

"Yes, daddy."

"This pussy." He crashed against me, forcing a strangled cry from my throat.

"This dick." He caught my hand and gave my cock a hearty stroke.

"This body." He gripped my hips, leaving his bruises there too.

"That mouth. Oh god, that fucking mouth."

I was right fucking there. "Please, please, please daddy. Let me come."

"This orgasm is mine, baby."

"Yes, daddy." My words filled the room.

"Claim me, baby. Coat this cock in your cum. Make me yours."

I shattered in his words, given the permission my body needed. I bellowed my orgasm as my pussy strangled his cock. I didn't hear his curses, my whole world lights and stars and ecstasy.