Men in kilts

He is wearing a flirty leather mini-kilt, a white shirt and patent black Doc Martins. I watch him from across the space as he flogs a woman tied to a cross, his skirt flicking up in the most gorgeous manner. He has strong, shapely legs and the most amazing flogging style… almost taking running start, putting his whole body into it, beautiful to watch.

Afterwards, we lock eyes , we talk, flirt. I watch his mouth move as he speaks to me and imagine what he would taste like. He nods at the rack and smiles at me, a question in his eyes. We have a power struggle, laughing… he wants to flog me, I want to flog him… damn switches!

I step close and start to undo his shirt, my eyes on his face. He allows it, decision made. I tell him softly about safewords, tell him gently what I am planning to do to him as I touch his skin under his shirt.

“Tell me if you have a problem with any of that, won’t you?” I say.

I gesture to my girlfriend, she saunters over, smirking.

“You want a piece of this?” I ask her, gesturing at him.

She looks him up and down and nods, “Oh yeah”.

I raise an eyebrow at him. He smiles at me.

“No problem,” he says, “don’t go easy on me will you?” He makes me laugh.

I bend him over the rack and cuff his wrists, kicking his legs apart.

I start off on his back with a flogger while she circles, playing around him. I warm up on him and start to apply some pressure, he resists me, being stoic, which irritates me. I put more force into it to try and get a reaction, but I am not getting what I want from him. He is silent, still. I try different implements, different spots, different kinds of sensations… nothing. Finally I nod to my girlfriend and hold up the flogger. She gives me a big smile, and takes it from me.

I bend down in front of him, caress his face, grip his hair in my fist to lift his face to mine, stroking his cheek with mine, breathing in his ear, whispering to him, biting at his ear lobe. She is going hard at his back now and I reach under the rack and pinch and squeeze at his nipples, watching his face, he has one pierced and I pull at it. He fights me still, refusing to give it up and really let go. I am rougher on his nipples and chest when she is flogging him harder, keeping pace with her. I bend over him, his face to my breasts, to scratch and stroke down his back when the whipping stops or slows. I hold my mouth to his, breathing on his lips, he refuses to reach to kiss me, I refuse to give him the kiss… Frustrating for both of us, neither willing to give in.

Afterwards, we talk a little, I leave him in the care of my girlfriend. I am disappointed with how it went. Sometimes I can’t get the exchange, the heat, the reactions that I want from a boy.

I am watching a scene when he finds me. Without a word, he slips an arm tight around my waist, slides a hand into my hair, he pulls my mouth to his and kisses me, a violent, hot, hard, hungry kiss. I wrap my arm around his head, pull him against me, push my hips into him and bite at his lips, hard, feral and I hang on to his head, holding him there as he tries to jerk away from my teeth. I feel his cock jump against me. I think I may have drawn blood. He pulls back and looks accusingly hurt at me, touching his fingers to his lips.

“That fucking hurt!”

I eye his crotch.

“You loved it,” I state. It’s a simple fact.

He smiles, still fingering his lip.

“Maybe,” he says, tilting his head, “I owe you one…” he adds.

I laugh, “Yeah good luck with that.”

I smack him on the arse as he turns to leave, he swats me back.

Shame, could have been some potential there.