My One For Half A Million

Dream

I walk down the aisle, my shaking hands clutching the bouquet.

At the end of the it all is Xylar, a self-satisfied look on his face. On either side of me, friends and family, watching me tread down the aisle.

Between my legs is a remote controlled vibrator, and in Xy's pocket is the remote.

God, that guy.

That handsome guy.

My husband.

His hand moves to his pocket, and his conspiratorial smile grows a bit wider.

I bite my lip, the thought of red-stained teeth hardly crossing my mind, as a pulse is sent through me. My eyes nearly roll back. A few more steps.

Another wave of stimulation as I step up and take Xy's hand, and it nearly sends me tumbling to the floor, gauzy gown and all. I flush. The crowd chuckles.

At the end of every sentence that comes from the old man in white, the officiant, Xy fidgets, and I resist another moan. Pulse after pulse of the vibrator has me wide eyed and blushing, biting my lip and sucking on the inside of my cheek to keep myself quiet.

He leaves it on a slow, steady pace through the vows, leaving me stammering.

"I do."

I have to steady myself. Deep breath, close my eyes. "I-" he cranks it, leaving me breathless. "D-do."

"You may kiss the bride."

Xylar's large hands go around my waist as he pulls me close, and I can't help it, I moan into his mouth. His hands go to my hair, and my arms wrap around him. We're full blown making out in a church, at our wedding, but from the corner of my eye I notice- everyone has disappeared.

We're alone. We're naked. We're in bed now.

He runs his hands over my torso like he's never seen a pair of breasts before. He kisses my chest tenderly. I grip his hair and moan into his ear, my knee pressing between his legs.

His fingers travel down, brushing my thighs, and then- and then a wave of euphoria-

"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry."

I woke up sweating and panting, Xylar's face nestled between my thighs. I blushed, and pushed myself back a bit.

"You-"

"You were, um... you started grinding against my hand while you were asleep, I thought-"

Before he could continue, I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back up to me. His face hovered over mine, wide and open and anxious. "I'm sorry..." I kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue.

"Good boy," I crooned, and gripped his waist while I mark his neck. "Good boy."

He whimpered, ever so slightly, and I flipped us over so I was on top, my knee pressing between his legs, feeling him grow hard against my thigh as I bit and kissed his shoulder. He held my ass.

"Good boy," I said again, slipping down his body. "You deserve something in return, don't you? Yeah, you do."

I reached up and ruffle his hair with one hand, my other hand beginning to stroke his thigh.

I dipped down so I was almost fully between his legs, and began kissing him through the jeans he never took off the might before. He whimpered, and bucked his hips closer to me. It didn't sway me.

I eased two fingers below his waistband, then switched them out for my thumb, tracing the v-line while I continued kissing across his thighs, my nose and occasionally lips or tongue passing over the tent of fabric his cock made.

I quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and he lifted his body without prompting, letting me slip them off.

Rubbing small, soft circles into his thighs with my thumbs, I kissed up and down his cock, eliciting soft moans from him. His hand strung itself through my hair, but he wasn't quite bold enough to steer me where he wanted me. I smiled, and focused more of my attention to the tip, which leaksed precum onto my fingers as I used one hand to gently stroke his shaft.

"Fuck," his voice broke as he moaned.

I pulled away enough to murmur, "good boy," before returning. After a moment, I pulled away again, to add a word.

"My good boy."

"Only yours," he gasped, eyes shut.

I slowed, because we'd never actually discussed exclusivity. But then I sped back up, because I kind of liked it- and, hell, we were technically engaged. Why not be exclusive?

"Good," I said, in as commanding a voice as I could muster, and then took him into my mouth.

As his fingers dug into my skull, his head lolled back with pleasure and his face flushed, I tried to take as much of him as I could. My tongue ran up and down his cock as much as I could make it, and my head bobbed as far down as I dared go.

He moaned my name, not a pet name or title, which he'd never done before, but I liked.

I pulled away, strings of spit and precum bridging the gap between us. "Good boy," I said, and went back to pleasing him as he whimpered his thanks.

One hand I had braced against him, switching between his abs and his muscular thigh. The other hand I kept at the base of his cock, steadying him as my head bobbed at a fast pace, up and down. My tongue swirled, and I hollowed my cheeks as well as I could. He was a crying mess in no time, poor boy, tugging at my hair like it would do anything.

"Please," he groaned, "please, let me cum..."

I shook my head, which, judging by the sounds he emitted, felt very, very good.

Eventually, when he asked in that high, whining voice if he could cum, I nodded. It didn't take more than a few seconds for him to moan loudly, bucking his hips, his legs pressing into my shoulders, trying to keep me in place as he finished.

I kept going until he stopped spasming under me, and then I slowly separated, with a satisfying pop that put a smile on my face.

"Good boy!" I began to brush hair out of his face, caressing him like a pet.

He blushed- from his hairline to his shoulders, everything was red. "Thank you..."

I kissed him, my hands on his jaw.

"Good boy," I said again, gentler this time. He ducked his head. Shy at the compliments. I smiled, noticing the way he kept his eyes off my face. "Good, pretty boy," I teased.

The blush darkened. "Sto-op!"

I laughed and pressed my forehead to his, and then pressed a kiss to his nose. "No."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me to his body with a huff and a pout. My head fell against his shoulder, and my hands played with his hair as he held me like that. We stayed, still and pressed together, until his heart rate fell back to normal.

"Good, pretty boy," I said again, this time without the teasing tone.

And this time, instead of a protest, I got a smile pressed against my throat.