“This is pretty weird, you know,” Jordan said, but he didn’t refuse, undressing without a hint of shame.
He had nothing to be ashamed of: he was a fit man with a toned, well-proportioned body. His legs were long and well-shaped for a man, his skin smooth and flawless, his torso hairless but for the trail of blond hair leading to his sizable cock. Objectively, he was a very handsome guy. A hot guy, even.
But it wasn’t his body that made Damiano’s cock fill out. At least, not just his body. Jordan’s body didn’t repel him or anything: Damiano could appreciate it aesthetically and he really liked the soft, vulnerable spot between Jordan’s neck and shoulder, and those pink nipples, and his shapely, strong thighs. But Jordan was still a man, with a hard cock and balls instead of a pussy, and men normally didn’t turn him on.
Jordan did, for all the wrong reasons. Looking at Jordan’s naked body gave him such a possessive thrill, all that skin on display at his request. Jordan was straight, but he had undressed for another man and let him ogle him because it was Damiano. Just for him. It was a power trip that really messed with his head and fed the possessive beast that lived under his skin. He wanted to know every curve and angle of Jordan’s body, every hollow, every mole, every scar. It was his, he had a right to know that.
“Now open the package I sent you,” Damiano said.
“Now?” Jordan grumbled, reluctantly taking his hand off his cock. But he did as he was told. Because he couldn’t say no to him.
The thought made Damiano’s cock ache, and he tugged at it absently, watching as Jordan unwrapped the package Damiano had sent via express courier delivery that morning.
“It’s a shirt,” Jordan said, blinking at the box’s contents in confusion.
“It’s mine.”
It was incredibly satisfying to see Jordan’s indifferent expression change to one of hunger. Jordan pulled the shirt out and brought it to his face close enough to sniff it.
“It does smell like you,” he said breathlessly, his face a little flushed.
“Put it on,” Damiano ordered, his voice gone hoarse.
Jordan didn’t put it on. He pressed it against his face and inhaled audibly, his eyes becoming unfocused.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Damiano stroked his cock harder, watching Jordan breathe in his scent like it was his favorite drug.
“Rub it all over you,” he heard himself say.
Jordan obeyed, bringing the shirt down his neck, rubbing it all over his pecs and erect little nipples, then his abs.
“The lower part of the shirt is dirty,” Damiano said. “I came on it yesterday.”
Jordan’s hand froze, his pupils dilating. “You’re disgusting,” he said, unfolding the shirt and inspecting it. He found Damiano’s dried spend very quickly. He stared at it with a strange, fixated expression. Before Damiano could say anything, Jordan brought the shirt back to his face and breathed in the soiled part of the fabric.
Jesus.
Damiano had never been harder in his life. Stroking his cock faster, he ordered, “Put it in your mouth.”
“I hate you,” Jordan moaned out, but he did put the soiled fabric into his mouth and suck on it, his other hand flying over his cock. “Oh god, this is so disgusting.”
“You love it,” Damiano said. “You’re pathetic enough to suck on my dried come and be grateful for it.”
Moaning, Jordan shoved two fingers wrapped in his soiled shirt deep into his mouth, his eyes closing in bliss as he came all over his hand and stomach.
The sight was enough to push Damiano over the edge, too.
He came, but he didn’t feel satisfied.
The possessive beast in him wanted more.
***
The next time he made Jordan jerk off wearing only his shirt. It sated the hunger a little, but it wasn’t enough. He knew this kind of possessiveness was ugly and creepy, but it still wasn’t enough.
Damiano ended up fucking a fleshlight as he watched Jordan fuck his own mouth with his fingers. It was probably weird, but definitely not as weird as sending the fleshlight full of his come to Boston via express courier delivery.
“You’re so gross,” Jordan complained, as if Damiano couldn’t see how hard his cock was. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he moaned, fucking the fleshlight full of Damiano’s jizz. “This is gross, and I hate you for making me do this.”
It was gross. Damiano couldn’t believe he was getting off on this, on watching another man fuck the dirty fleshlight he had used. But that was the appeal, in a fucked-up way. Possession. Ownership. He wanted his bodily fluids all over this man. To brand him in every possible way.
“Stop pretending you don’t love it,” Damiano said, unable to look away. “It turns you on, to put your cock where mine was, feel my dried jizz all over your cock.”