My First Grindr Date Pt 2

I followed them into the hotel—eager, obedient—like a puppy. With a playful firmness, they took my hand as though it were a leash and led me through the lobby to the elevator. Once inside, they pulled out the room key and handed it to me, their voice low but commanding: “You’re going to pick me up and carry me to my room.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I scooped them into my arms. As we ascended, they nestled into my neck, peppering me with kisses, rewarding my compliance with tenderness.

Inside the room, I set them gently onto the desk. They immediately wrapped their legs around me, pulling me into a kiss that was slow and savoring. My hands roamed, exploring the curves of their body, guided by the rhythm of their soft sighs and gentle mews that only deepened my hunger.

Then, with a hand placed firmly between our lips, they hushed me. “I need to freshen up,” they said, voice full of intent. “Here’s what you’re going to do: undress me. You have my consent to touch me however and wherever you want—don’t ask. We’ll shower together. Afterward, you’ll step out, go to the bed, and wait for me. I’ll dress, then we’ll play until you’ve had enough. Deal?”

All I could do was nod. They smiled, pleased. “That’s a good boy.”
My body reacted before my mind could catch up.

The shower was slow and sensual. They clung close, fingers weaving through my chest hair, pulling my face down for tender, lingering kisses. I worshipped them in a way I’d never done with anyone—hands roaming, lips tasting every inch of their skin. I traced their shoulders with kisses, caressed the round of their hips, my fingers teasing along their backside.

Then I felt it—pressure against my thigh. They whimpered shyly, grinding into me with a quiet desperation. My mind spun in terror and awe, but I stayed rooted, present. Their arms curled up near their chest, like a timid T-Rex, and they let out soft mews that pulled my focus deeper into them.

I responded with full attention—one hand slipping lower, grasping gently, rhythmically. They melted into me, burying their face in my chest, crying out: “Daddy, Daddy, don’t stop.”
I held them close, kissed their forehead, whispered words of pride and adoration: “You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. I’m so proud of you.”

Their body began to tremble, small desperate whimpers building. “Daddy, can I cum? Please?”
I whispered, “No.”
They whimpered, pleading.
Finally, I gave the word: “Cum for me.”

Their body collapsed into mine, trembling violently. They cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain, pulsing intensely in my hand. I held them tightly as they clung to me, their release warm against my leg. They hummed softly, lost in the moment.

When it passed, they kissed me—deep, consuming, grateful. Then, regaining composure, they gently stepped back and washed me head to toe, with focused, nurturing care. I felt like a child in their hands—protected, guided.

Once satisfied, they kissed me again, slow and sensual. Then: “Dry off. Lie on the bed. Naked. On top of the sheets.”

I nodded.
“Good boy.”