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reeseloveandsoul:

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I stand there in the entry way to our living room, hand paused while scratching the back of my neck. My mouth is frozen in mid-yawn. My house boy is perched on the mantel of our fireplace with feline grace, all curves and sunkissed bare limbs, gazing out onto the skyline. I work my dry mouth and swallow. He looks like he is part of the room, like I had a naked male version of the Little Mermaid statue from Copenhagen installed in my condo.

I pat my pocket, seeking my phone. I frame the shot and snap it. Perfect.

At the sound, my houseboy looks over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re up. Good afternoon, Sir. How was your nap?”
“Wonderful,” I reply. “I can’t wait until this client partnership is over and I can sleep like a normal person again.”
My houseboy gives me a wistful look. “It will be soon. Shall I get you some refreshments?”
“Mmnn. No, don’t get down. You can get it in a minute.” I walk over to him. “What are you looking at?”

My boy shrugs. “I just realized I never took the time to really look at the view you know? Been working so hard to keep your life and home in order since we moved here, but I spend most of it looking down. It’s beautiful.”
I run my palm over his thigh. I suddenly want him naked and spead open under me in an embarrassingly vulgar way.  
“What do you see?” I manage to say.
“Mmmn. There’s a bird of prey circling to the right there.”
“Oh? So there is.”
“There’s a red flag on that building over there. Someone is having a smoke break on that roof there. There’s a balloon caught on that line there…”
“You see a lot.”
My houseboy looks pleased that I’m interested. “I wonder what I could see if I had that bird’s vision.”
“Probably ants on the sidewalk,” I guess.
“Mmmn. Possibly.” My houseboy looks at me. I position his chin with my pointer finger and kiss him. He leans in, and I give him my tongue. A soft groan escapes from lips. “God, I love it when you kiss me for no reason.”
“Oh there is always a reason,” I insist. “And I could use that refreshment now. Get two.”

My houseboy blinks, trying to snap back into focus. “Ye – yes Sir.” He slides off the mantel with noted grace. I watch that fine body as he sashays into the kitchen.

I sit on the sofa when he returns with two glasses. We sit and discuss dinner as we drink our iced tea. When I finish mine, I set it down on the tray.
“Another Sir?” My boy prompts.
“No,” I say, leaning in and caressing his jaw. “I want you.”
I take the glass out of his hand and put it on the table. I lean forward and guide him backwards until his back is on the sofa, over the afghan. I crawl up onto the cushions and settle between his legs.

He is always naked. I chose not to lock him and instead make him come to me to ask for relief, which is just the right amount of control and humiliation to set me off. He has been so good so far in learning that his cock is mine to touch and handle first. I enjoy a palm full of the hardening thing as I push down my boxers and extract mine out.

We always hide lube and condoms under the sofa seat cushions, and I’m pleased my houseboy remembered to put them there after we moved.

He takes me like a pro – hot and tight, without needing to be stretched. Every inch pushed in makes him mewl and wiggle like a kitten. “Good boy,” I grunt, beginning my thrusts almost immediately. He responds by wrapping his legs around my back.

I reposition and push inside him deep, and I know I hit his spot because pre-cum spurts all over my hand. I rub his cockhead with my thumb and he shivers tremendously.
“Yes. Yes, like that boy,” I murmur. He whimpers my name.

I finish taking him with a breathless pace. I’m feeling particularly amorous and grant him an orgasm with mine – but after mine, of course. I mark him with hickeys and licks, and enjoy feeling him soften and relax under me. I nuzzle his swan like neck. “I could use another refreshment now.”
“Wh – when my legs work again, Sir, I will obey that order.”
I smirk at him and chuff under my breath. “So it shall be.” I caress his sensitive little cock until he’s sweating under me and protesting dearly, but I relent once he’s shot again – a little clear fluid under his belly button. I lick him until he’s giggling cause he’s ticklish, and then my lust is sated.

The next day, I go out and buy him a pair of binoculars and leave them on the mantel. I also give him a journal to write down his finds.

He clearly loved his presents, because my boy drew hearts on my pancakes with chocolate syrup for a week after. When he stopped, I told him not to cause I loved it so much. I love him so much.

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Captions are fictional. I didn’t realize this was a selfie by OP. Beautiful work.
The skyline is of Brooklyn apparently.

Also I didn’t know the OP had put a Little Mermaid reference into his tags until after I wrote this, lol.

Gallery

Master Abdul won’t stop staring at my slave. It’s making me crazy. I
admire my slave’s ability to not appear annoyed, but it not professional
for one man to be oggling another’s slave so shamelessly.

“Master Adbul,” I ask, popping a date into my mouth. “Are you here during this meeting or not?”
He
blinks, but manages to tear his eyes away. “My
apologies… just your boy, he is captivating. Where did you find him?”
“An
auction. In Persia. A nomadic boy, captured in war times…so many stray men,
and not enough villages to go back to, unfortunately.”
“Doesn’t he resent you for that?”
I
chuckle and eat another date. “Goodness no. He is very loyal, because I
also bought his sick brother and gave him to my sister. She healed him. As long as he knows
where his twin is, he’s very obedient.”
Master Abdul chuckles. “Why on earth do you give in to a slave’s feelings? That’s what the whip is for.”
“What, so he’ll resent me more? I think not.”
Master
Abdul did not like my answer. “Honestly, I think you should show the
boy that the world is cruel and unfair. The sooner he learns that the
better.”
Shah Mohammed speaks up. “Can we continue the meeting please?”
“Master Abdul,” I say, “He already experienced war. I think that’s cruel and unfair as is.”
“You should sell him to me…I would make him into an even finer slave.”
I scoff. “So you can fuck him and make him scrub your floors like a scullery maid just so you can watch his ass?”
He stands up, red in the face, “How dare you-”
Shah Mohammed stands up too. “Sit down.
Master Abdul, you’re acting a fool, openly coveting a man’s property
like that. How he trains his slaves is none of your business, and
jealousy is unsightly.”
Master Abdul grumbles and sits.

I
glance over at my boy. I can see the panic in his eyes, but not on his
face. He’s kept his position, his posture, his composure. My heart
swells.

We finish our meeting on taxes and then Master
Abdul excuses himself as quickly as he could, no doubt to find a whore
for the evening.

Shah Mohammed watches him go.
“Good heavens, he leaves such a bad taste in my mouth.”
“I have to agree… no manners, what so ever.”
My slave is busy making us a fresh pot of mint tea.

“Well, taxes are rather boring…maybe he wanted to escape that.”
Shah Mohammed chuckles. “Perhaps so.”
I sip the fresh cup handed to me. “Mmnn. Say, Shah…do you still like to watch?”
A smile curls under his mustache. “Oh very, very much so.”

I glance up at my slave. “Come here boy. Kneel before me. Please me.”
My slave does not flinch or hesitate. He simply passes me a cup of fragrant tea and kneels onto the soft carpet under my slippers.
“Any requests Sir?”
“Not too fast…take your time. Make me nice and hard.”
My slave parts my robes and finds my cock hidden inside. “Anything for you Sir,” he murmurs, nuzzling my thigh. His beard tickles my skin and one of my testicles. A moment later, he starts.
Across from me, Shah Mohammed sighs and sips his tea as he slides down into his seat. “Praise the heavens, that is a beautiful sight watching him suck you like that.”
I close my eyes and tilt my head back. “I’ll have to take your word on that, but let me tell you Shah, it feels marvelous.”

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Text is fictional.