Dominate × Submissive | Phone sex | Tension | Married couple
{{{{Alex and Ethan had been married for four years now. To everyone else—especially Ethan's family—Alex was the perfect gentleman. Polite, charming, always saying the right thing. Or was he?}}}
Ethan lay on his back, one leg draped over the blanket, his phone cradled loosely in his palm. The house around him was asleep. His parents, his sister, even the neighborhood seemed drowned in peaceful silence—except for him.
He couldn't sleep.
Two days. That's all it had been. But being away from Alex made it feel like two weeks. Every night, his skin felt colder without the weight of Alex's arms around him. His neck missed the brush of lips, his waist missed the firm hold.
Then, the phone buzzed in his hand. He didn't even need to look—he already knew who it was.
He answered immediately.
"Hi," Ethan said softly, voice still laced with sleep.
"Baby," Alex's voice dropped into his ear like thick, warm honey—deep and familiar. "Miss me yet?"
Ethan swallowed. "…A little."
Alex chuckled, that knowing, low sound that made Ethan's stomach flutter. "Liar. You miss me like hell."
A small smile pulled at Ethan's lips. "Maybe…"
"Mmm. Thought about me today?"
Ethan hesitated, eyes flickering to the ceiling as if it might answer for him. "Yeah."
"What did you think about?"
A beat of silence. Then: "Your hands."
Alex groaned softly. "Fuck, baby. What about them?"
Ethan's voice was barely audible. "The way they feel… on me. Inside me."
That single sentence shifted something in Alex's tone.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Door locked?"
"Yes."
"Good," Alex growled. "Take off your clothes."
Ethan's breath caught. "Alex…"
"I'm serious. Everything. Now."
He obeyed without thinking, pushing the covers aside, lifting his shirt over his head, sliding his shorts and briefs down until he was bare and flushed in the dim light. He sat back against the headboard, nerves tingling with anticipation.
"They're off…"
"Touch yourself for me."
Ethan bit his lip, heat rising in his belly. "Where?"
"Start at your neck. Just like I would. Soft, slow. I want you to feel every inch of yourself and pretend it's me."
His fingers skimmed over his neck, brushing just under his jaw. He closed his eyes and imagined Alex's lips trailing there, slow and possessive.
"I'm touching…"
"Good boy," Alex murmured. "Now your chest. Tease your nipples."
Ethan gasped quietly as his fingers brushed over one, then the other. The sensation shot straight between his legs, sharp and sweet.
"I want to hear you," Alex said. "Let go for me, baby."
Ethan whimpered, already getting hard. "I… I'm getting there…"
Alex's breath came harder. "Slide your hand lower. Over your stomach. Down to your cock. Wrap your fingers around it."
Ethan moaned softly as he obeyed, his hand closing around himself. He was already half-hard, and the sensation made him tremble.
"That's it," Alex whispered, voice rough in his ear. "Stroke yourself. Slow at first. Like the first time I touched you. Remember?"
"Y-yeah…"
"Faster now. Stroke it harder. Let me hear you fall apart."
Ethan obeyed, pumping himself faster, his breath quickening, soft moans slipping past his lips like confessions.
"That's it, baby. Fuck, your voice is driving me insane."
There was a moment of silence on the other end, just the sound of Alex breathing harder, deeper. Then: "You make the prettiest sounds when you're needy."
"I'm close," Ethan gasped, hips lifting, legs trembling.
"Not yet," Alex snapped. "Stop."
Ethan whimpered, hand freezing.
Alex groaned. "You listen so well. God, I love that about you. Now take your other hand, and touch yourself lower."
Ethan knew what he meant.
"Alex…"
"Do it."
He let go of his cock, hand trembling as he circled his entrance with one fingertip, the touch featherlight.
"Spit on your fingers," Alex commanded, voice almost shaking. "Then do it again."
He obeyed, coating his fingers, then returning to tease himself again. The sensation made him moan helplessly.
"Push one in, slowly. Pretend it's me."
Ethan's breath hitched as he slid a finger inside himself, slowly, carefully. "A-ah…"
"Good boy," Alex groaned. "Move it. In and out. Then add another."
He did, stretching himself, panting into the speaker as he thrust his fingers in and out, imagining Alex above him—heavy, hot, breath on his neck.
"You ready for me?" Alex growled.
"Y-yes."
"You want me inside you?"
"Please—Alex, I need you."
Alex's voice broke. "I can't—fuck. Stay like that. Don't move. I'm coming to you."
Ethan blinked. "What?"
"I'm getting in the car right now," Alex said, already moving. "You think I can listen to you moan my name like that and not do something? Stay wet for me, baby. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget how to stand."
The call disconnected.
Ethan stared at the screen, breathless and still trembling, fingers slick and buried inside him. He didn't know how long he waited—20 minutes? 30?
But then…
A knock at the window.
He turned, heart leaping, and there Alex was—dark hoodie, sweatpants, eyes wild and hungry through the glass. Ethan scrambled to unlock it, and Alex climbed in fast, shutting it behind him.
Neither spoke.
Alex grabbed him by the waist and kissed him, urgent, hard, unforgiving. Ethan moaned into his mouth, hands gripping the fabric of Alex's hoodie as their bodies pressed together.
"You touched yourself just like I said?" Alex demanded between kisses.
"Yes…"
Alex shoved him gently onto the bed, peeled his hoodie off, yanked off his sweatpants. He was already hard, thick and leaking, and Ethan's mouth watered at the sight.
"You ready for this cock?" Alex growled.
"Yes, Daddy…"
Alex's eyes burned. "Say it again."
Ethan whimpered. "Please, Daddy. Fuck me."
And then Alex was on him—parting his thighs, pushing inside in one deep, claiming thrust. Ethan cried out, back arching, the stretch delicious and overwhelming.
Alex didn't give him time to adjust—he knew exactly what Ethan needed. He fucked him slow and deep, hands gripping his waist, lips brushing his jaw.
"Two days without this pussy," Alex growled. "You think I'd survive that?"
Ethan shook his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as Alex hit that spot again and again, his moans growing louder, uncontrollable.
"You're mine," Alex said. "Every part of you. Say it."
"I'm yours," Ethan sobbed.
"Louder."
"I'm yours, Daddy!"
Alex grunted, hips slamming harder, and Ethan shattered beneath him, shaking as he came between them, body spasming with every thrust.
Alex followed, roaring into his neck as he spilled inside him, biting down gently.
They collapsed together, bodies slick and tangled, breath mingling.
Alex cupped his face gently, thumb brushing over flushed cheeks.
"Next time," he whispered, "I'm coming with you. I don't care where."
Ethan smiled weakly, eyes fluttering closed.
"I'd like that…"
**The next morning.**
Ethan woke slowly, still warm from the memory of Alex's body pressed against his. His muscles ached deliciously, his thighs sore in all the ways that reminded him just how rough Alex had been.
But the bed beside him was empty.
He sat up, blinking against the soft morning light. The window was closed again, the blanket pulled back neatly. On the pillow was a folded note in Alex's handwriting:
"Didn't want to wake you, baby. Your family still thinks I'm a saint, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'll call you tonight. You better answer. Still wet for me? 😘 —A"
Ethan flushed immediately. He pressed the paper to his lips, trying not to smile.
He stretched, winced, and immediately sat back down. His body was still recovering—Alex hadn't exactly held back last night. The bruises on his hips would fade, but the hickeys along his neck and collarbone… those would be harder to hide.
"Shit," he muttered, pulling on a shirt and walking gingerly to the mirror. His eyes widened. Three deep love bites dotted his throat, one just under his ear.
He buttoned his shirt to the top and turned the collar to hide the worst of it. His walk was awkward—legs stiff, movements cautious. Alex had truly ruined him.
As he stepped out of his room and padded downstairs, he heard voices from the living room.
"Alex! What a surprise!" his mother said cheerfully.
Ethan froze.
Alex was here?
His heart raced as he walked around the corner—and there he was. Alex stood tall in a crisp black shirt and jeans, holding a paper bag filled with pastries and a wrapped box.
"Oh—hey, baby," Alex said casually, giving him a small smile, like they hadn't been naked and gasping into each other just hours ago.
"Good morning," Ethan said, voice a little higher than usual. He avoided eye contact and walked slowly—too slowly.
Alex's eyes flicked down to the way he moved. The corners of his mouth twitched upward.
"You okay?" his mother asked.
Ethan cleared his throat. "Yeah—just a weird step getting out of bed. My leg cramped."
His father looked up from the newspaper. "You look stiff. Maybe you need a massage."
Alex's eyes gleamed. "I could give him one later."
Ethan glared.
"Oh," Alex added at the door, voice low enough for only Ethan to hear, "Don't forget… tonight. I expect that phone picked up on the first ring. I want to hear you beg again."
Ethan's face turned bright red. "You're unbelievable," he hissed.
Alex smirked. "And you love it."
He stepped out the door, leaving Ethan standing there with heat burning down his neck, love bites hidden under a buttoned collar, and a walk he couldn't explain.
"Sweet boy," his mother said. "Alex is such a gentleman, right?"
Ethan laughed awkwardly. "Y-yeah. Very… thoughtful."
And with that, he limped toward the kitchen, biting back a smile and praying no one asked why he was walking like he'd just survived a wrestling match with a bear.
Or why a "mosquito bite" was shaped suspiciously like Alex's mouth.