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"What a Life"
Title: What a Life
Author: Lena T
Summary: Mike wonders if he spoils Micky too much.
What a spoiled brat.
Look at him.
What a spoiled, willful brat.
"I'm too fuckin' nice to you. Do you know that?" Mike growled.
Micky was sitting in front of the mirror, as usual. This time he was admiring the new leather collar that Mike had just bought for him, turning this way and that, watching the light reflect off the diamond-shaped metal studs. It had looked too small, in the shop, but it fit perfectly around Micky's slender neck. Mike wanted him to wear that and nothing else.
"I know," Micky said absently, his girlish voice soft and throaty. He picked at his curly hair, arranging it to frame his angular face, his high cheekbones; then he turned the collar until it sat perfectly straight. He smiled at himself. "How do I look?"
"Like you need to be spanked," Mike answered. Micky turned in his chair, slid down to the floor, and began to crawl across the carpet to where Mike was sitting on the big bed.
Mike watched his slow, graceful movements, the way he swayed his ass high in the air, the looks he was giving from under heavy lids. Oh, he was due for a spanking all right, trying to pull that precious shit. Micky had been a royal pain in the bar all day, whining for attention when Mike was trying to run a business, flirting with the customers until Mike had had to lock him in the back room. And then on the way home he'd gotten all pitiful and teary and so Mike had bought him the collar to stop him from pouting all night. Jesus.
Micky was now kneeling in front of him, long legs tucked up underneath, hands resting on his knees. "I'm sorry. I've been bad today," he breathed.
How the fuck did I end up like this? It was something Mike wondered a lot these days, when Micky was acting like a first-class prima donna bitch.
He'd been Jimmy's little toy before, a year ago, when Mike had only owned the one bar, not the three he had now. Jimmy was a regular in the evenings: short, muscular, with long black hair and a black goatee that made him look slightly Satanic. The day that he walked in with Micky, Mike had been parked in his usual spot at the bar, going over the books and figuring out how many condom machines was enough. He looked up and there was Micky, one step behind Jimmy, tall and slim and smiling angelically. He had wide-set brown eyes that peeked out from under a mop of curly brown hair, and a lovely wide mouth that looked like it was made for sucking off big cocks. Mike had never seen a boy so beautiful.
He had wanted him instantly, just as he wanted him now, every time they were in the same room together. Micky, as Mike found out, had a sex drive even stronger than his own – sexual overdrive, it seemed like. You could feel it when he walked into the room, a vibe that was direct and to the point. He wanted cock, and lots of it. And when he ordered his drinks, he looked Mike in the eye – but ended up staring at his crotch.
Mike wondered what it would be like to have this boy and his tight little ass any time he wanted. Not that he was short of action – with a dick like his, it just wasn't possible – but there was something about Micky that was temptation beyond just wanting to grab him, throw him down, and fuck him ragged. At the bar Mike was as friendly as he could be, taking the time to listen to Micky talk about music and science and lots of other things; but he kept his distance. No point in losing a good customer over a piece of ass.
After half a year Jimmy and his boy came in less often, and when they did, Jimmy looked tense and tired. Micky seemed the same, mostly – he talked with everyone, joking and laughing, and hardly ever drank – but sometimes he'd come on strong to some unsuspecting john and Jimmy would drag him out by the scruff of his neck.
One night they came in and took their places at the long wooden bar and sat for a long time without speaking to each other. Then Micky got up and disappeared into the men's room. Mike had watched this from behind the register and decided to test the waters.
"Ain't he got no manners?" he asked, putting down a fresh shot of tequila in front of Jimmy.
"Never did and never will. I think it's time to move on. He'll be OK." Jimmy sighed and downed the tequila in one gulp. "I need a fuckin' vacation."
Mike cleared his throat. "You want me to keep an eye on him?"
" Don't you have enough annoying shit in your life already?" Jimmy said sourly. "Listen, man, this kid is like a hyperactive puppy. He'll love you to death, but he won't leave you alone for a second. And if he doesn't get enough attention from you, well…" he trailed off as Micky came back to his barstool.
"I reckon I'll take my chances," Mike said, staring at Micky. Jimmy looked from one to the other and laughed. He slapped Micky on the back.
"Meet your new boyfriend. See you 'round, amigos," he called as he disappeared through the swinging doors.
Micky said nothing for a few minutes, just sat looking at his hands.
"Well?" Mike demanded. Micky raised his head and grinned.
"Hooray!" he laughed. Then he leaned over the bar and spoke into Mike's ear. "Can I blow you now?"
So now Micky went to college during the day and at night he kept Mike's bed warm, sucking and fucking and loving everything that Mike did to him, even when he got rough. Especially when he got rough. The harder Mike squeezed him, bit him, fucked him, the more Micky moaned and writhed and came. He would lie there, panting, staring up at Mike with those big dark eyes and he would plead for more, always more.
Mike had never been so exhausted in his life.
He thought of himself as a tough man, a strong man – not like these California queens. Born and bred in Texas, a businessman, a man who takes what he wants. And here he was, wrapped around Micky's little finger.
"Get your goddamn clothes off," Mike ordered. Micky sighed with relief and did as he was instructed, and was soon draped over the bed, his face buried in a pillow. He’d spanked Micky before, of course – who could resist such a target? – but this time it was no game, no teasing. Mike hit his ass squarely with the flat of his hand, hard, hard as he could, making Micky jump every time. Mike didn’t bother counting and only stopped when the skin was red and he could feel the heat coming off it. Then he took off his boots and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.
"That hurt," Micky said softly, lifting his head and looking at Mike uncertainly.
"Good. It was supposed to." He waited but Micky didn’t say anything. For once. Mike sighed.
"Mick, why are you so fuckin’ annoying? That’s what Jimmy called you, and he was right. Are you tryin’ to get me to throw you out?”
“Am I that bad?” Micky had crawled up to Mike, resting his head on Mike’s chest. Mike wished he would stop looking so sweet while they were having this conversation.
“Yes, you are,” Mike said firmly. “Do you act like that on purpose or are you just fuckin’ stupid?”
“It’s just...it’s easier this way. If we don’t…get too close.” Oh jesus, what was this boy thinking? What a drama queen! Mike resisted the urge to shake him like a rag doll.
“Now you are bein’ stupid. Listen to me, Micky, cos I’m only gonna say this once. It’s way too late all this drama shit, because we belong together and, god help me, I love you.” Micky’s mouth fell open. “So are you gonna stick with me and act like a grown-up, or do I have to find you a new sugar daddy?”
Micky kissed him for a long time, opening his mouth and using his tongue, gently, then nibbling on Mike’s lips. He pulled back, leaving Mike a little out of breath.
“Are you still going to buy me stuff?” Micky asked, his eyes shining as he grinned.
“You know what? Blow me. Now.” Mike unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his erection. Micky laid next him, head to toe, and kissed the tip of Mike’s stiff cock.
“Like this?” he asked. Mike could feel his warm breath on his cockhead.
“Yeah, babe, just like that.” He was able to reach down and grab Micky’s ass, still pink and glowing, but he wanted a better view. “Open those legs for me.” Now he could get what he wanted: Mike held Micky’s balls firmly, rolling them between his long fingers and getting a moan in response. He liked Micky’s balls; they fit perfectly in his hand, and they were sensitive to the slightest touch, almost as sensitive as Micky’s tight asshole, which is where Mike let his fingers roam next.
And his cock was in Micky’s mouth – oh god, his soft, warm mouth, lips around his shaft, pointed tongue swirling over and under and over again, sucking greedily and then relaxing, setting a lazy rhythm that Mike knew too well. No matter how many times Micky sucked him off he never got bored with it; each time was perfect and at the same time better than before, as Micky learned what he liked best and got used to handling his very large cock. If he had been smaller, Micky might have been able to swallow him, but as it was he had to be content – and he was very content – with the expert attention that came from years of experience. At least that was what Mike guessed. Maybe Micky was just a born cocksucker.
Mike licked his index finger and slid it carefully into Micky’s ass, into the heat and wetness he loved. He moved it back and forth, slowly, thinking that it would be nice to fuck Micky later but that right now this was more fun. Right now he could watch Micky’s mouth stretched wide with his cock and at the same time his finger disappearing between those firm round ass cheeks, and Micky, next to him, sweating a little now, his own hard cock slick with precum. All the pleasure and none of the work, Mike thought, and I want to fill this boy from both ends. Now he pushed two fingers deep deep inside as he rocked his hips, thrusting into Micky’s mouth, and between his gasps Micky sucked him hard and fast until Mike came gloriously, endlessly, riding that wave for all it was worth.
When he had licked Mike clean Micky turned around and slid up next to him and whispered urgently, “Don’t make me wait, please, Mike,” but Mike only smiled at him.
“We got all night. I intend to fuck you all night. By morning you’ll be beggin’ me to stop.”
Micky pressed his cock hard against Mike’s belly. “Never. Never, never, never,” he chanted, and covered Mike’s mouth with his own.
“I was right,” Mike said. “I *am* too fuckin’ nice to you.”
“I know,” Micky laughed, and kissed him again.