Bob did, he just refused to acknowledge that there was anything wrong with being honest about what a person's needs were. "You have a way you want to do this? Bed? Wall?"
Mikey's gaze darted around the room. It settled on a desk that was in the corner. He walked over and placed his palms on the surface. He planted his feet at about shoulder's-length in distance and said, "This, um, okay?"
Bob came to his side. "Mikey, you have to count. If you stop counting, I stop. If you say no, I stop. If you say stop, I stop. Got it?"
Mikey nodded. Bob didn't give him any more warning before bringing his hand down. Bob had some sense that there was a way to warm Mikey up to this, make it pleasurable, but he also got the sense that that wasn't what Mikey was here for, that if Mikey wanted pleasure, he'd ask for that. Mikey said, "One," voice calm and yet needy and Bob went in for a second. Mikey's breath caught on his two, but he was still clearly waiting. Bob sped up, barely, just barely giving Mikey time to tally up in between. But he waited that long, just long enough to know Mikey was still in this with him. Around twenty, Mikey's voice cracked on a sob. At twenty-three he was crying quietly, but steadily. At twenty-eight, his count took on an ease that hadn't been there, almost like he didn't need to think about it so hard any longer. At thirty-four, he screamed at impact, but still counted off. Bob's hand was sore and the sound of Mikey's broken words was pounding in his head, but he had given Mikey certain parameters and he wasn't going to change them now. At forty, Mikey said, "Stop, stop," the words shaky, but the intent clear. Bob really hadn't needed to be told twice.
Mikey leaned the rest of the way over the desk, touching his forehead to it. He'd kept himself basically upright the entire time. Bob hesitated for a second before soothing his hand down the muscles of Mikey's back. They were trembling beneath Mikey's skin. Bob asked softly, "Too much?" He wondered if he was supposed to know, supposed to understand inimically when Mikey had had enough.
Mikey caught his breath to say, "Just enough." He pushed himself up and looked at Bob for a second, smiling. Bob couldn't help but notice how Mikey's shoulders didn't ride so high, how some of his edges seemed softer.
Re: Headspace, R, Mikey/Bob, part 3/4
Mikey's gaze darted around the room. It settled on a desk that was in the corner. He walked over and placed his palms on the surface. He planted his feet at about shoulder's-length in distance and said, "This, um, okay?"
Bob came to his side. "Mikey, you have to count. If you stop counting, I stop. If you say no, I stop. If you say stop, I stop. Got it?"
Mikey nodded. Bob didn't give him any more warning before bringing his hand down. Bob had some sense that there was a way to warm Mikey up to this, make it pleasurable, but he also got the sense that that wasn't what Mikey was here for, that if Mikey wanted pleasure, he'd ask for that. Mikey said, "One," voice calm and yet needy and Bob went in for a second. Mikey's breath caught on his two, but he was still clearly waiting. Bob sped up, barely, just barely giving Mikey time to tally up in between. But he waited that long, just long enough to know Mikey was still in this with him. Around twenty, Mikey's voice cracked on a sob. At twenty-three he was crying quietly, but steadily. At twenty-eight, his count took on an ease that hadn't been there, almost like he didn't need to think about it so hard any longer. At thirty-four, he screamed at impact, but still counted off. Bob's hand was sore and the sound of Mikey's broken words was pounding in his head, but he had given Mikey certain parameters and he wasn't going to change them now. At forty, Mikey said, "Stop, stop," the words shaky, but the intent clear. Bob really hadn't needed to be told twice.
Mikey leaned the rest of the way over the desk, touching his forehead to it. He'd kept himself basically upright the entire time. Bob hesitated for a second before soothing his hand down the muscles of Mikey's back. They were trembling beneath Mikey's skin. Bob asked softly, "Too much?" He wondered if he was supposed to know, supposed to understand inimically when Mikey had had enough.
Mikey caught his breath to say, "Just enough." He pushed himself up and looked at Bob for a second, smiling. Bob couldn't help but notice how Mikey's shoulders didn't ride so high, how some of his edges seemed softer.