Reality vs. Dreams

By Dash

 

Story Notes: OK … you might remember the Valentine Day's story I wrote last year – I’ve reposted it just in case you don't remember because it was almost a throw away story.  But, that's this couple.   It's really, pretty much a PWP, aka .. Porn – something to entertain you hopefully during these hot summer days.

 

Hope you enjoy it!

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"Find a corner," I said firmly as I closed the hotel room behind us.

 

Dumping his bag on the bed, Harry sighed and shot me a look as he toed off his shoes.

 

"Don't even start," I said, shaking my head.  "You know the rules."  It was a routine we had gotten into after our third trip together and the first one that I spanked him on and it had served us well for the last three and a half years together.  The first thing my partner did when we entered a hotel room that we would be in for more than a day was to find a suitable corner to stand in.  It was something that had come in very handy over the years and a routine I now insisted on.  We didn't always use it but like the small paddle I kept in my suitcase, I liked knowing that it was there and I could easily swat him and send him to a set place to calm down without the additional drama of having to move chairs or even think about it. 

 

Pacing around the room while I unzipped the two bags, he finally moved a chair, adjusted the curtains and nodded toward the corner formed by the outside wall and the wall the large bed was against.  "This one, I guess." 

 

I glanced up and nodded, "That looks good."  Studying him for a minute, I put down our shaving kits and held out my hand, "Come here, babe."  It had been a long trip and we were both tired.  The flight had been delayed, it was pouring down rain when we finally landed in O'Hare, the cab queue was long, we both got damp and the normal 30 minute cab ride took almost an hour.  But now, we were checked in with no problems, the room was high and spacious, for Chicago at least, with a wonderful view of the river – thanks to the Super Duper Diamond Level or whatever it was that Harry had achieved -  and we had a couple of hours free before dinner and I thought we both could use a nap.  And maybe a quick fuck.  Or maybe a quick fuck, then a nap and then more sex.

 

Stepping into my arms, Harry sighed as he rested his head against my shoulder.  He's about an inch shorter then I am but we fit together nicely.  "God I'm tired," he said and sighed a minute later.

 

I patted his butt before kissing him and pulling back slightly, "Strip and get into bed.  I'm going to hang up the bag and I think some quiet time will do us both good."

 

Harry grinned, suddenly more awake and cheerful, "Do I have to be quiet?"

 

I laughed, swatting his butt before pushing him gently toward the bed, "Strip, bed and then we'll talk."  Unbuckling the folded suit bag, I quickly unzipped and pulled out the hanging jackets and suits.  We each had brought a full suit and two additional blazers and the garment bag had kept them pressed neatly enough.  Behind me, I heard Harry getting undressed and turning down the bed.  I flipped off the small hall light and glanced in the direction of the bed and gave a sudden laugh. 

 

He grinned back at me, hands clasping the blanket demurely over him like some scared virgin on her wedding night.  Striping down to my own boxers, I jerked the blankets from him and shook my head, "Scoot over, babe."

 

With a sigh that gave the air of long suffering, he moved a couple of inches over, leaving me just enough room to lie down next to him.

 

Giving my own dramatic sigh, I tugged and pulled, moving underneath him so that I wasn't right on the edge and he was settled against me.  Rolling us over as one, I swatted his butt and kissed his neck.  "Let's just be still for a few minutes."  I was tired too and the idea of a quick nap was appealing all on its own, even without any additional fringe benefits that come from a naked and willing partner and a horizontal surface.

 

Harry settled against me, shifting a bit to get comfortable and then finally stilled.

 

Even as I listened to his breathing slow and deepen, I found myself unable to sleep and instead was simply content to lay there and be close, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against mine.  Like the corner, him sleeping naked was another part of our relationship developed over the years and served as solid reminder of our relationship where he was submissive, to use a very loaded and not 100% accurate but the best I had term, to me.  Symbolically, he belonged to me – to be controlled, corrected, as I saw fit and as part of our regular relationship.  I spanked him regularly, fucked him often but also did laundry, yard work and boring normal couple stuff like everyone else.  There was just always an undercurrent, rippling there, sometimes breaking the surface of the relationship – like finding a corner to stand in – sometimes barely hidden – like sleeping naked, body accessible to my touch  - and sometimes, most times if truth be told, completely hidden beneath the mundane day to day.  This long weekend though, at this convention, our relationship was bubbling merrily to the surface and celebrated and I could feel my blood hum in anticipation.  Usually, I am very content with the quiet undercurrents but now, I found myself wanting to dominate Harry. 

 

He shifted against me, butt settling against my boxers a bit more and that was all it took.

 

A minute later, boxer fly parted, lube applied, I pushed inside of him, waking him up.

 

He groaned, arching up and trying to twist away, his body reacting against the intrusion even before his mind was aware if it were welcome or not. 

 

"Shhhhh," I whispered, pushing completely in and holding him down, my knees working between his own to spread them wider.  "I've decided that you do need to be quiet."

 

"Alex," he moaned, trying to twist free from my hands.  He gave a soft cry as I began to slide in and out, slowly fucking him as I kept him pinned against the mattress.  "Please."

 

"Hush," I ordered, thrusting in deeply and holding still for a long moment as he shook and squirmed, trying to get free of the large intrusion stretching him wide and also move my cock inside of him to stimulate him at the same time.  When I couldn't take the throbbing pressure any more, I kissed his neck and loosened my hold on him slightly, the need to dominate lessening as he submitted, "Think we can time this to come together?"

 

He laughed, squeezing his internal muscles and causing me to moan at the feeling.  "See if you can keep up, honey."

 

We ended up not coming exactly together, things - outside of Harry's books – rarely work like that but it was still perfect, each of us taking credit for making the other person come and claiming bragging rights.  Sated for the time being, I kissed him on the lips, tongue briefly darting inside to claim ownership of all orifices and then swatted him gently on the butt. 

 

He laughed, settling down, this time, head resting on my chest, limp cock pressed against my hip and his feet somewhere below mine on the bed.  "Love you," he breathed out quietly.

 

"Me too," I said and pulled him closer.  For such simple words, the meaning was terrifying.  I fell in love – in lust – with Harry from across a semi-crowded private room at a book signing reception.  He had been invited by his agent, who was a friend of the author's agent.  I had been invited there because a friend was hosting the event and had been terrified no one would show and called in favors from a few friends.  Considering there were only about 30 people there, he had been right and happy to help fill out the room a small bit.  After I saw Harry, chatted with him for ten minutes and knew I had found my next lover, I was grateful.   We ended up making out like teenagers in the bathroom an hour later and moved in together around month seven.  Kissing his hair again, I stroked his back, thinking we seemed to have a thing for bathrooms.

 

 

As a well known Adult – as in Capital A Adult – Writer and movie consultant, Harry was often invited to various conferences and conventions.  Our first vacation actually had been to an alternative lifestyle convention in LA, followed by an all gay - but not in the family friendly Rosie O'Donnell way - cruise several months later.  I think I was in too much of a shock and worried about not looking like a prude and keeping my mouth off the floor at the first convention to really pay that much attention.   Harry had only revealed his second job, and subsequent desires, to me a couple of months prior and we were still working out all the kinks, no pun intended, in how to incorporate them into our relationship.

 

By the gay cruise though, we had been living together for five months and I was the established Top, Dominant, Head of the Household, whatever you want to call it.  I had never thought too much about being a Top in a relationship, I had been brought up to believe that everyone was equal, hitting was wrong and taking turns and making sure everyone was satisfied in all ways  – both inside and outside the bedroom – was a good thing.   That equality though wasn't what Harry wanted and after just a small bit of hesitation, neither did I.  The result was that Harry was spending a good amount of time with a sore, well spanked butt and didn't get to come as often as he would have liked as we worked out the rules for the household.  We had plenty of traditional, old fashion missionary sex but, especially in the beginning, almost as much hard, dominating sex as well as we both enjoyed establishing my ownership over his body. 

 

That cruise was my first real taste of how much I really enjoyed my Dominate side and letting it run free, or at least freer then it had ever been in public, or at least somewhere not our house.  Harry had been invited on board to do two-part author series talking about his more serious gay books and also to participate in a panel discussion about alternative gay relationships.  It was a normal thing, not that much different then the convention in LA except it was on a boat.  I loved watching Harry do his thing and that night was no exception.  He was a pro and could get a wall to chat with him if he put his mind to it.  He smiled, he laughed, he always had a witty story for the conversation lulls and was just a pleasure to watch.  He also flirted.  That was not as much of a pleasure to watch. 

 

Truth be told, I wasn't honestly concerned that he was going to leave me but … the relationship was still new and I was still struggling with my own insecurities.  The normal ones that infect all relationships and the unique ones I felt trying to compete with the perfect lovers and situations that Harry could easily create in his head.  Even though we had talked about it several times, I still worried.  In his stories, life was perfect or, if it wasn't perfect, it was for a reason that moved the story along.  It didn't cause lasting wounds that led to scars in the relationship that would eventually ruin it … unless it was going to be a Finding Love on the Rebound story.  I didn't want that to be our story. 

 

Glancing at him in the room chatting and smiling with a small group of cute guys, clearly connecting with one who looked like he was about a half minute away from writing his room, email, cell phone and land line numbers on my lover's body with permanent marker, I could feel my blood boil and 4,000 years of evolution rising to the surface.  When he was circulating and not staying in any one place, I felt like his flirting was like a butterfly – a similarity I'm sure he would punch me over if I was ever stupid enough to say out loud – harmless and meaningless.  But when he finally landed with a group, things got more serious and annoying to me.  I felt threatened and the need to reestablish my ownership almost overwhelming.  The bad thing is, as I realized later, he was well aware of the fact.

 

He glanced up as I came over and smiled. "Alex, this is Ian, Frank, Mac and Joseph," he said, waving at each guy.  "They're here from Louisville and this is their first gay cruise."

 

I glared at Mac, the one with the marker idea, for a brief minute before smiling.  "Great!  I hope you're having fun."

 

The all nodded and Frank said, "It's certainly different from Kentucky – just amazing."

 

"Mac invited me to go on their dive tour day after tomorrow," Harry said, smiling at me, the picture of innocence. 

 

"My sinuses are bothering me so I don't think I should go swimming or diving," Ian said, butting into the conversation, "but it's easier with an even number of people."

 

I nodded, "I'm sure.  So it's a private tour?"

 

Frank shook his head, "No but small – 10 people only."

 

"Unfortunately, there's only room for one – now that Ian can't go," Mac said, trying to look innocent and failing if my interpretation of his expression was correct.

 

"You don't mind, do you hon?" Harry asked.  "You said you wanted to just lay out in the sun and read most of this trip, right?"

 

I saw Mac smile and felt a strong desire to kill him but before I did anything stupid on multiple levels, I was saved as one of the party hosts stepped up on the stage for announcements.  "Let's get something to eat," I said, leaning close.

 

Harry smiled and nodded, turning to Frank – who was thankfully sharing a room with Ian and not Mac - getting a room number so he could confirm.  Once that was done, he took my hand and I led us out of the crowd.  "Food is over here, Alex," he said, pointing toward the right.

 

I nodded and continue to lead us to the left and out of the room.  I had remembered a short hall that led to some bathrooms.  They were out of the way and not clearly marked – I had found them by accident the day before while looking for the stairs.  "Let me wash my hands first," I said by way of explanation. 

 

He nodded and went inside as I opened the door.

 

Closing it behind us, I flipped the look of the door and stared at him as he glanced back, surprised.

 

"Problems, dear?" he asked in a laughing tone, his lips twitching in a valiant effort not to smile or smirk, more likely.

 

That tone told me everything I needed to know about the scene I had just witnessed.  Cocking my finger, I motioned him forward.  "Come here, Brat," I said in a low tone.  As he slowly got closer, I reached out and grabbed him firmly but not too hard and pulled him close, spinning him slightly and swatting his butt quickly two times.  Before he had a chance to cry out, I kissed him deeply, pushing him against the wall next to the locked door.  My tongue pushed inside as I cut off his protest.  Reaching down, I stroked his cock several times before undoing the top button and unzipping him, pushing my hand inside his pants and finding him rapidly hardening. 

 

"Alex," he said, struggling and pushing back slightly.

 

I brought my hand down from where I was bracing it on the wall and swatted him again before bringing my hand back up to hold him against the wall.  "Oh no, Brat," I said, starting to kiss around his mouth and jaw line, nibbling down his neck, my other hand still down his pants teasing him.  "All that flirting?  Mac?  Asking if I mind you going out with other guys?"

 

"To dive!" he protested, squirming hard against my touches.  "That's it!"

 

"Hmmmm," I said, moving back up to his mouth and cutting off his protests.  Pulling my hand free from his cock as I felt him begin to drip, I broke off the kiss and swatted him again, causing him to cry out mostly from frustration since I wasn't putting even half my arm into the swats.  I ignored him and turned him to face the wall.  "Clearly, in all the excitement, you've forgotten who you belong to, Brat and are in need of a reminder." 

 

"No," he said, "I don't.  I remember."

 

Pulling his pants down was easy and caused him to moan again, laying his head against the wall.  "Alex …" he started again until I kissed him, shutting him up again.

 

Reaching over to the counter, I quickly pumped some hand lotion into my palm, dipped my finger into it and roughly pushed it inside of him, causing him to moan and squirm against the wall. 

 

"Please …" he said, breathless as his muscles tightened against the finger fucking I was giving him, brushing over his prostate with each stroke.  "I remember."

 

"Then," I said, leaning close and stilling my finger deep inside, "if you remember who you belong to, what was that performance I saw earlier?"

 

He squirmed again, "I was just trying to get a reaction."

 

"And you've got one, haven't you?"

 

He laid his head on the wall, arching back slightly as I resumed stroking him with my finger.  "Yes," he moaned out.  "Alex, please …"

 

Pulling my finger free, causing him to cry out again, I quickly coated my cock with the rest of the lotion and positioned it against his opening.  "You belong to me, Brat" I said firmly, slowly pushing inside.  Holding him close, I began to slowly fuck him, pulling almost out so that the sensitive nerve endings at his entrance felt stretched to the limit before impaling him completely, causing him to cry out with each thrust. 

 

"I belong to you," he moaned out, pushing back against my thrusts, cock throbbing.

 

"Yes," I said firmly, "you do and I'll never let you forget it."  Coming a moment later, I held him close, standing him upright as I shot deep inside of him, feeling him relax against me as I kissed his neck again, jerking slightly in him.

 

He shuddered and squirmed and then moaned as I pulled free. 

 

Wiping my hand and cock quickly with a paper towel, I pulled him against me, his own cock still mostly hard, wanting its own release.  Kissing him gently, I patted his bare butt.  "Upstairs? Our room?"

 

He nodded, sagging against me, head resting on my shoulder as I kissed and stroked his hair.  "I belong to you," he whispered again. 

 

"Yes."

 

We made it upstairs to our room somehow, probably looking – and smelling - like walking debauchery.  But hey, if you can't fuck in the bathroom on a gay cruise, when can you do it?  Stripping him quickly, I stayed clothed and lay down next to him.

 

"Alex," he whispered again, closing his eyes as my hand trailed down his chest and found his cock again.

 

"Harry," I whispered back, smiling as I leaned down and began to kiss him, one hand bracing me up a bit, the other quickly and gently stroking him into coming.

 

I had asked him an hour later, after I made love to him, slow and gentle face to face, each stroke long and deep, interrupted with plenty of kissing, if that was the experience he had hoped for.  He had laughed, blushed and said Yes.  It was then that I knew that we were perfect for each other and that this secondary relationship, with all its pitfalls was perfect for us.

 

 

Now, laying in bed together, a dozen or so of these trips behind us, I still found myself craving the thrill of being dominate with him, enforcing that dominance with a look or a touch that only he got.  At these conventions, I loved looking at the booths, shopping for a new paddle and jokingly laying it across his butt to check for size, watching him blush but knowing how much he enjoyed it as well.  I wouldn't want to live in the world 24/7 being so open, so dominate but it was a very fun fantasy world to play in once in awhile.  Harry had his books and movies, I had these conventions.   And a brochure for The Resort,  a new couples vacation spot that The Community, the firm that owned and operated The Island, Limbo and The Matchmaker, had just opened off the coast of Costa Rica.  Dominating, submitting, playing on a real life fantasy island 24/7 for a week might be fun ….  I couldn't help but wonder if I had to tell Harry where we were going or if some form of kidnapping would get him in the right mood … maybe some sort of slave fantasy he hadn't told me about …certainly something to keep my mind occupied during his lecture.

 

 

The End