Composed at Randy’s (Diner Days)

11. Wren

Chapter 11

Wren

I 'm pretty sure that there are still a lot of loose ends that Bael and I haven't tied off yet, but having such a sweet, sexy man all but beg me to let him take care of me puts my brain in the back seat and my dick in the front seat. Since it's too short to see over the steering wheel, our conversational journey has come to an end.

Like our first kiss, Bael takes charge as soon as my lips touch his. He seems to really like moving me around however he wants. Just one of his hands is big enough to cradle the back of my head, and I melt into the delicious sensation of giving up control, letting him consume me.

Bael is safe, and he radiates it from every fiber of his being. I’ve never met someone who felt so right. Kai? Kai who? Why would I even consider him when I have access to all of this?

My fingers creep under Bael’s shirt, and he laughs in a growly, pleased sort of way. I pause and ask, “Am I going too fast?” I’m pretty sure he and I are both going fast enough, but I still have to check.

“Do what feels right to you. I’ll keep up.”

So yeah, Bael’s shirt fucks right off and then so does mine. Bael stops in his tracks when he sees my tattoo.

Puberty blockers helped a lot, but I still needed a little work done to get the flat chest I wanted, which meant I ended up with two tiny scars. Some people don’t mind their chest scars, some do. I’m one of the ones who do, so I created an art piece for my chest.

I wanted more than a cover-up piece, though. I wanted something that was an extension of who I was. It’s a simple but powerful asymmetrical piece of a plain little bird morphing into a phoenix taking flight. It hurt like a bitch to get and I cried the whole time, but from the look on Bael’s face, it was definitely worth it.

“Can I?” He holds a respectful hand over my chest. There’s a tension to it like he’s really holding himself back.

I give him a reward kiss before saying, “Yes, please!”

He traces the little wren with a look of wonder, but then he gets sidetracked by my nipples. Then I get sidetracked because, thank the gods, I started out with tiny ta-tas and didn’t need major nerve-killing surgery there.

Fuck, Bael knows what he’s doing with his hands.

He lovingly maps out my face with his mouth, and I’m gone. I’m just completely fucking gone on this man.

I’m wrapped around him, wallowing in the pleasure of his skin against mine, and I never want to leave.

“Where am I allowed to touch, sweetheart?” Bael kisses the words against the hollow of my throat.

“Anywhere you want,” I breathe. Taking T has made me into a horny little thing and I’m not shy or body conscious. A good upbringing will do that for a boy.

Bael’s hand drifts lower and slips inside my pants. “What do you call this?” He strokes one of my favorite sweet spots.

“Th-that’s my cocklet.” I clutch one of his massive biceps tightly and bury my face in his chest.

He explores further and discovers just how slippery he’s made me. “And this?” he asks as he slides a finger inside me. Slowly. So fucking slowly I shiver.

“My… ah… my front hole,” I gasp.

“What about here?” He strokes my asshole in tandem with my front hole and tears of pleasure threaten to spill down my cheeks. “Call it anything you want.”

“Can I fuck it?”

It takes everything in me to only nod and not tell him he can fuck any hole I have as long as he gets to it immediately. I don’t, though, because some people take that shit literally, and I have a couple of holes no one has any business being inside of. I may be kinky, but my mouth, front hole, and asshole are the only holes I allow access to.

Because I really want to get down to business, I eventually force myself to say, “Please… just fuck me. Front or back. Just fuck my holes.”

Bael groans into my neck, and it sounds a bit like he just said, “Thank you, god,” But I can’t be sure because Bael is getting first-hand knowledge of how wet my front hole has gotten.

My undies are completely soaked by the time Bael starts working them down my legs. One last kick from me and they fly off my ankle and sail across the room. Now I can get down to soaking through Bael’s pants so we can get those off him too.

I rub the bulge of Bael’s cock with my hand, and he swears under his breath, but it’s the good kind of swearing, so I get bolder and try to free it for closer inspection.

Bael’s hands take mine and trap them. “Easy, baby. I’m not done learning about you yet. I’d like to take my time if you don’t mind.” He whispers that into my ear in a growly sort of way, and my tiny cocklet twitches in interest.

Yep, I’m small, folks. I have a tiny tadger. An eenie weenie dick. Technically, the term for results after meta-surgery is micro-penis, which I think is a bit mean to the folks who have size issues.

I’m not one of those.

I could have paid to have phalloplasty and gotten something massive if I’d wanted to, but personally, I think it’s pretty neat to have the two-and-a-half slender inches I’m packing. It doesn’t get in the way, I don’t have to deal with sweaty balls because I opted out of having them, and I got to keep my front hole, which is quite a lot of fun to have.

Go Team Tiny!

Bael seems to be a fan of Team Tiny as well. He keeps both of my wrists trapped in one of his, and he slicks his fingers using my front hole before stroking my cocklet. His eyes are on my face as he checks my reaction.

“Please keep doing that,” I say. “Jesus Larry Christ, please keep going.” I buck into his hand and make a mewling sound of disappointment when he pulls away. I don’t get a chance to get upset because he releases my hands and flips me around on his lap until my back is pressed against his chest. He holds me in place with a hand on my chest and he uses his other to start deconstructing my sanity.

His hands are huge, right? So he manages to use his thumb and index finger to jerk off my cocklet and slide his other three fingers into my front hole.

Oh god, his rhythm is amazing. My entire world has narrowed down to his magical hand and his hot breath on my neck, and before I know it, I’m coming like there’s no tomorrow. I ride his hand as he works me through my orgasm and my cocklet spurts a few milky drops on his fingers.

While I’m busy being thoroughly boneless and spent, Bael rubs his fingers together and makes a curious sound followed by an excited, “You can do that?” He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them.

Fuck, that’s hot.

I nod shakily. My poor, smooth little brain is trying to catch up after getting scrambled, so an anatomy lesson is going to be a challenge for it.

Maybe just a quick one.

“It varies depending on the person, but I could do this before surgery, so I can do it after too. Stuff just got rerouted.” I love my results, and sometimes I want to high-five my surgeon for their excellent skills.

“That’s the coolest thing ever.”

“Right?” I love my body, and I’m absolutely delighted that Bael seems to as well.

“Can you come with my mouth on you? Because I want to try that.”

“I have no idea,” I say. “No one has ever sucked me off.”

Bael kisses the side of my head. “We’re trying it.” He stands and scoops me into a princess carry. “But first I’m going to fuck you.”

He strides over to the bed and tosses me onto the mountain of pillows, giving me a cheeky smile.

I’m still wobbly from the intense orgasm and the events of the past few days, so instead of moving the pillows out of the way, I say, “If you want to fuck me here, you’ll have to fish me out before I sink.” Because I’m sure as hell not fighting my way free from the bedding again today.

Bael snorts. “Condoms first, then I’ll save you.”

“I might be lost before you get back.” I’m losing ground fast and slowly falling between two of the larger pillows.

He roots around in a drawer and tosses me a sock. “Wave this and I’ll find you.”

I laugh because he could have found condoms in the time it took for him to find that sock.

He is so perfect for me. Just like my slowly vanishing body succumbing to the inevitability of the pillow pile, my heart is being completely consumed by Bael.

Artland blazes to life in my mind, and a perfect representation of this emotion unfolds. The desperate need to get it out floods through me, and for the first time in my entire life, I bat it away like an irritating fly.

Sex now. Art later.

Huh. Apparently, my need to get railed by Bael surrounded by an entire harem’s worth of pillows supersedes my need to get the pictures out of my head.

It's nice to learn new things about myself.

I’ve gone completely under by the time Bael returns to dig me out. The largest pillow comes away from my face to reveal the handsome features of the man who put me in this predicament in the first place.

“There you are.” Bael sweeps most of the pillows off the bed with an easy sweep of his arm, then he presents a bag that he empties out onto the bed. “Everything here is new and clean. If you see anything you want to use, let me know.”

There are the obvious things like condoms and lube, but there are also butt plugs of various sizes and a bullet vibe. It’s like he’s Sex Santa or something.

I toss a condom to Bael and say, “This one, obviously, and you’ll need lube if you want my ass. The front is self-lubricating.” I give Bael a dirty smile.

He pushes me on my back and slips two fingers inside my front hole. “You are so fucking wet, baby.”

He says some other stuff, but Bael has magic fingers, and they’re all I can pay attention to. He’s holding me down and finger fucking me while all I can do is make little whining noises.

“Beautiful.” He pulls his hand away and licks his fingers.

I watch through heavy lidded eyes as Bael strips. He has a crow tattoo that wraps around one hip, and it’s a perfect compliment to mine. I give silent thanks to his artist for not ruining the gorgeous display of freckles scattered across his torso. If they’d covered them up, I would have needed to murder someone. His body is a work of art, and when someone like me says that, you can treat it as gospel.

I play with my cocklet, giving it slow, lazy tugs, and Bael’s eyes go dark. I see the switch happen inside him again. He goes from playful puppy to something feral, and it sends heavenly shivers through my system. I am so ready to be fucked by this man.

“Put on the condom and get inside me.” I’m aiming for playful, but I think it comes off sounding more like pleading.

Bael puts the condom on like a pro and grabs my legs, jerking them apart and hitching one of them over his arms, but he stops just shy of entering my front hole. He teases me with the tip of his dick and says, “Say please.”

“Please,” I whisper, and Bael slides right in, inch by inch. He could have slammed right in, and I would have thanked him for it, but I’m tiny and he really, really isn’t. Later Me would have had regrets.

He bottoms out even though he still has dick to spare, and I find myself apologizing for being too small. “Sorry! It might be more fun for you in the back.”

“It’s fun for me because it’s you,” Bael says in a gravelly tone, and he starts pounding into me, silencing my brain right along with my ridiculous apology.

Holy Jesus Kittens, I know I just came a few minutes ago, but his big-ass dick is about to get me there again. I know that any attention my cocklet gets right now will do the job, so I grab Bael’s arms to keep myself from touching it.

I want this to last.

And boy does it. Bael seems like a sweet, fluffy guy, but he fucks like a porn star.

A considerate one, too. He watches me intently, noticing every tiny gasp of pleasure, and he fucks me harder to turn them into wails.

“God, you’re so perfect. So small. So mine.”

He grinds past my sweet spot, and I come with a cry. Bael follows close behind me, and he crushes my body against his as he comes. I swear I can feel him growling. It rumbles through my body and I sigh dreamily. Is this what love feels like?

Bael is half collapsed on me and panting, and I give him a lazy kiss. “Good boy.” Bael is a very, very good boy. “You should get a treat for this.”

“If you can come up with a better treat than that, I’ll probably die,” he laughs.

He gets off me and disposes of the condom before getting back in bed and curling around me.

“I want to do that again about eight thousand more times,” he murmurs into my hair.

“I think I can manage that,” I say sleepily. “But tomorrow, okay?” I yawn and my eyelids close on their own. I know, I know, falling asleep right after sex is cliché, but I came twice, okay? And I had a busy day. A boy needs rest after that.

I drift off to sleep to the sensation of gentle kisses pressed into my hair.