"Oh fuck," Antony grunts, hissing in a soft breath as he shifts in his saddle. "It's been way too long since I did this," he says to Stephen, eyes crinkling, more than a little amused at himself.
Stephen laughs out loud. "Now you know how my ass feels more often than not..." He wriggles in his own saddle and winks. "Nope, mine is fine, must've gotten all toughened up, wonder why." Reaching up, he adjusts the baseball cap he's wearing and then nudges his horse forward again. "If you're good, I might kiss it better for you," he teases.
Antony grins. "I'm always good."
Stephen snorts at that. It's been a wonderful day, they've been out riding for hours, he's sweaty and grimy with dust, he aches, and he's incredibly hungry, despite all this he's in no rush to get back, despite the promise of a soak in the hot tub. "C'mon old man," he throws over his shoulder as he sets off again.
Antony's more than happy to let Stephen take the lead. The view from back here is fucking stellar and it certainly takes his mind off his own ass. Besides, they're already in the home stretch, the landscape around them as beautiful as it's been all day, every vista seemingly more breathtaking than the last.
"Okay... now I ache," Stephen groans as he climbs the last two steps up to the cabin behind his husband. They'd returned the horses and driven the short distance back, all ready for an evening of food, beer and hot tub.
"I thought you were all toughened up?" Antony teases, opening the door.
"My ass is fine, it's just the rest of me," Stephen pouts as he pulls the baseball cap off and folds it up, tucking it into his jacket pocket. "Beer?" He steps past his lover and heads to the kitchen.
"Yes, please," Antony nods, kicking off his boots. "Want me to start the grill?" Thank god he's already put the steaks in the fridge to marinate and shucked the corn this morning. They'd be ordering in pizza otherwise.
"Hell yes," Stephen laughs as he pulls out two bottles and pops the caps off, offering one to Antony. "Am I okay to get a little tipsy tonight?" he enquires over the lip of the bottle as he lifts it to his mouth.
Antony nods, taking a drink. "Go ahead. I know I am," he says, unsure what kind of shape he'll be in for anything else in a few hours.
"Shall I open a bottle of red then? To go with dinner." Stephen takes a long drink of the cold beer, wiping away a stray drop with the heel of his thumb when he's done.
"Sure," Antony says, pulling the steaks from the fridge. "Do you want anything besides the corn?"
"Depends. Is there dessert?" Right now Stephen thinks he could eat the proverbial horse. And to top that off his sugar craving is kicking in. "Please say there is..."
"There's brownies left from the other night or..." Antony checks the freezer. "There's still some Haagen-Dazs."
"Is that all?" Stephen huffs out an over exaggerated sigh. "I have needs you know!"
Antony laughs. "What do you want?" he asks, taking a moment to pull Stephen in close and give him a kiss, dirt and dust be damned.
"Carbs and sugar, and sugar and carbs," Stephen singsongs against Antony's mouth. "But I can make do, you'll just have to make it up to me."
"Tonight or next chance I get, you mean?" Antony asks, sliding his hands down over Stephen's ass and cupping through his jeans.
"I mean," Stephen grunts as Antony's hands close on his butt, "the next time we're in the vicinity of a bakery with donuts and pastries." He makes a biting motion, catching his husband's lower lip in his teeth for a moment. "Then you can buy me the entire stock and let me roll around in it before you lick the powdered sugar off my ass."
Antony laughs, eyes crinkling. "Deal," he murmurs, taking the time to kiss Stephen once more, licking into his mouth, before his stomach grumbles and he draws back. "Steaks."
"Steaks," Stephen agrees, his voice a little rougher than it was moments ago. He takes another long pull of his beer before he selects two bottles of red, opening one to let it breathe while Antony busies himself with meat.
The steaks go on the grill along with the corn, Antony making sure everything's perfectly placed. "Where are we eating?" he asks, pulling out plates, cutlery and napkins.
"In the hot tub?" Stephen laughs. "At the table, I'll just find us some additional cushions for our poor, tender butts."
Antony chuckles and quickly sets the table, stopping for a moment to simply take in the view. "I can't imagine ever getting sick of this," he says to Stephen when he returns.
"You say that about the view from home," Stephen glances up as he sets a cushion on each chair. "And that place in New Zealand where we honeymooned." He steps up behind Antony and wraps his arms around him. "You, are just a big ole romantic at heart, darling man."
Antony laughs and leans into Stephen's embrace. "It's good to have a soft side, isn't it?"
"I promise I won't tell anyone," Stephen teases as he noses behind Antony's ear. His husband smells all musky, the scent of a man who's been physical, has sweated and been in the sunshine. He feels his dick flex hard in his pants as he inhales.
"I felt that," Antony teases back.
"You smell fucking amazing," Stephen rumbles, pressing his nose closer, his arms pulling Antony's tighter.
"Yeah?" Antony grins, eyes crinkling, deliberately pushing back against Stephen.
Stephen grunts at that, canting his hips to rub his erection against Antony's ass. "Sex. You smell of pure fucking sex."
"Let me flip the steaks and you'll have 5 minutes, unless you want them cold," Antony teases.
Growling, Stephen pushes his husband away with a look of disgust. "I know my place," he grumbles, albeit teasingly. "After food huh?"
"Hey, they're your steaks too," Antony grins, flipping them over. "And I'll still smell like sex after."
"Yeah well," Stephen reaches to pour them both a glass of wine, "don't forget I can hold out a lot longer than you." He cocks a brow at Antony as if challenge. "I've had plenty of practice." It's not something he usually teases about - orgasm denial being the one rule he's struggled against.
"I know you can," Antony admits happily, checking the corn. "I'd need a ring to keep up with you."
Making some non-committal noise Stephen takes a drink of the wine before setting himself, carefully, into a seat at the table.
A couple more minutes and Antony's sliding the plates onto the table, each laden with a thick cut rare steak and a couple cobs of perfectly seasoned and grilled corn. "You want any steak sauce?"
"Nope, I'll take my cow as is today." Stephen glances up at Antony before leaning over his plate and inhaling appreciatively. "I think I can still hear it mooing."
Antony chuckles and settles on his pillow. Fuck. He winces a little and slices into his steak, pleased to find it nice and bloody. "Anything more's an insult to the meat," he jokes.
Stephen doesn't waste time talking, he's utterly famished, exercise and fresh air always heighten his ever present appetite. He makes happy noises as he clears his plate, and by the time he's done, his mouth and fingers are greasy from steak juice and the butter he'd smeared over his corn.
Antony's not quite finished but his attention's wandered from his food to Stephen and he's watching him, a small smile on his lips. "I love cooking for you."
"Cos I'm a food pig?" Stephen sucks a trail of glistening yellow butter from his thumb and leans back in his seat, plucking his napkin from the table to start clean up.
Antony laughs. "Pretty much," he says, finishing his own last few bites. "Because you enjoy your food. Cooking for someone who doesn't sucks."
"Well you know me. I'd happily sit on my ass and let you feed me forever." His face and hands as clean as he can get, Stephen discards the napkin in favour of his wine glass.
Chuckling, Antony sets his plate with Stephen's and tops up his glass, offering more wine to Stephen. "You opened two bottles of this?"
"Uh huh," Stephen nods. "S'good right?" He's certainly in the mood to relax in the hot tub with the second bottle and his delicious man.
"Really good," Antony nods, taking another drink. "Want to put these in the sink and we'll move to the hot tub and dessert? Or just wine?"
"No, I'll clear them up in the morning. We need to be in that hot tub, with wine, dessert can wait until bed. When you get to spoon-feed me." Stephen smiles as he pushes his chair out and stands up. "Lucky you."
Antony grins. "Lucky, lucky me," he says, leaving everything right where it is. Except for their glasses and the second bottle of wine.
Stephen had gotten the hot tub filling while they'd eaten, so it's perfect when they pull off their clothes and climb in to the warm, bubbling and oh so soothing water. "Oh my god..." Stephen groans. "I think I just died and went to heaven."
Mirroring that groan, Antony sinks down to his chin before sitting up again. "Mm. We need one of these somewhere. Beach house..."
"Hell yes!" Stephen's enthusiastic agreement is underlined by him nodding his head, even though his eyes are closed. "A big ass one, it'll be perfect."
Antony grins and reaches for the bottle of wine, topping up their glasses once more. "I want a view with it though. Ocean, beach, forest, I don't care, but it has to have a view."
"I thought that would go without saying," Stephen picks up his glass and takes a drink. He pauses for a moment and looks around, taking in every detail of their surroundings.
"Maybe," Antony allows with a nod. "We should start looking seriously when you're done shooting, so we have somewhere to go of our own next break."
Bringing his gaze back to his husband, Stephen gives his head a little shake. "How the hell did I get this lucky?" he asks softly. "I still struggle to get my head around it sometimes you know? I mean I was happy enough before I met you, loved my job, was happy in my home, I kept busy and I was doing okay. Then I met you, and it all went so insane."
Antony grins. "I felt the same way until I met you. I didn't think life could get any better."
"Well, we could maybe give up work entirely, buy our own island and go native?" Stephen suggests, his own smile bright and wide over the rim of his glass. "There'd be no need for clothes."
"I like the sound of that," Antony says, chuckling, taking another sip of his wine. "You don't think you'd get bored with me?"
"Nah, I doubt it," Stephen smirks. "I'm sure I could find plenty of ways to entertain myself with you."
"Yeah?" Antony's eyes crinkle even more. "Care to give me some examples?"
"No," Stephen snorts, setting his glass aside. "Because you do not need any ideas!"
Antony grins, unable to resist teasing, "You don't think I'll ever run out?"
"You?" Stephen's brows shoot up and his eyes dance with amusement. "Hell no, you're one inventive bastard. Inventive, evil, sadistic, hot, horny, gorgeous... and mine."
"That's the important part," Antony says, taking another drink. "Yours. And you're my... muse. My kinky muse. I don't think I'd be half as inventive with anyone else."
"Muse huh?" Stephen smiles, his gaze dropping away for a moment in thought. "You think you might come up with a new evil plan? A humiliation plan? Perhaps with your boots at the end if I've earned it?" Stephen rarely asks, but he's been getting the urge to be pushed down hard again, partly out of curiosity to see how he deals with it.
"For when?" Antony asks, shoving down hard on the spike of arousal that runs through him at Stephen's request.
"Soon." Stephen lifts his gaze to meet Antony's. "Soon as you'd like," he adds, letting his husband, his Sir, his...Master see the need in him. The need to put down, to be used, to be everything his owner wants him to be.
"Here?" Antony says, thinking about all they've got coming up. "Or did you want something more public. With more pomp and circumstance?" He grins again.
"May I have both?" Stephen's mouth curves up, "Or is that being greedy?"
"The closest club's a couple hours away. Otherwise, we could do something where we might get caught, which would certainly be public, or at least out here on the deck where you'd think anyone could look up and see," Antony says, working through his options out loud. "I don't have any leather here except for my boots."
"Here is good. And all I need is you, the boots are the bonus." Stephen drains his glass and sets it aside.
"Tomorrow then?" Antony asks. "Or do you need a quieter day first?"
"Tomorrow would be awesome," Stephen finds himself reaching down to cup himself at Antony's words. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Antony says, giving Stephen a look. "You better behave yourself though, or I might change my mind," he adds, mostly teasing.
"I always behave myself, you tell me that I'm a good boy all the time." Stephen points out, shifting in the water to move closer to his husband.
"I do," Antony nods, "because you are, but this," he says, reaching over to take Stephen's cock in hand, "is mine."
"I know that," Stephen pouts. "Did I give you reason to think I didn't?" Even as he's speaking he can feel his cock respond not just to the touch, but his husband's very possessive words.
"You were touching yourself," Antony says, squeezing lightly. "Touching my cock."
"No Sir, I was merely adjusting myself." The pout melts away at the reprimand. "I can't recall the last time I touched myself with intent without your explicit permission."
With intent. Antony nods, satisfied, starting to stroke instead of squeeze. "Good."
"I'm... n..not even sure I could now... even if I had carte blanche, not without feeling guilty." Stephen stutters through his words as Antony teases him.
Antony smiles. Fuck he loves the sound of that. Which might be one of the most messed up things ever but it works for them. "How do you feel about that?" he asks, continuing to stroke his boy's cock, a pearl of liquid thicker than water welling up at its tip. "Being owned by me so completely?"
"It's... as is should be," Stephen mumbles, leaning in to his Sir, wanting to be closer, to inhale his scent, to feel his skin against his own.
"C'mere, boy. Straddle me," Antony orders, letting go for a moment.
"Yes Sir," Stephen shifts over Antony's lap and sets his hands on his Sir's shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the base of Antony's neck. "How may this boy please?" he asks softly.
"First, I just want to touch you," Antony says, hand back on Stephen's cock, lightly stroking the shaft, the fingers of his other hand finding the ring through the crown, tugging just as gently.
Stephen's eyes slide shut and his tips his head back a little at that pull, the pleasure spreads from his cock, his balls draw up and his belly tightens. "Boy is happy Sir finds him appealing," he whispers. "Boy wants to be everything to his Sir and Master."
"Boy is everything," Antony breathes, watching the pleasure spread across Stephen's features. He tightens his grip a fraction, tugs a little more firmly, his own cock filling quickly, aching already. "Everything. There's no one else for me. No one. You're the only one I've ever wanted to own like this."
"Then boy is content." Stephen smiles, his pupils blowing wider as Antony applies pressure.
"Just content?" Antony teases, both hands tormenting his boy, eyes locked on Stephen's face.
"Yes Sir. Anything more would show pride," Stephen's voice is lowered, uneven as his Sir ups the tease.
Antony nods, thinking that through. "Fair enough," he says, leaning in so he can get his mouth on a nipple, biting lightly then a little harder.
"Oh!" Stephen moans, leaning into the bite, he slips one hand up from Antony's shoulder to curve around the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the soft hair there. "Boy loves Sir's pain. Thank you," he whispers.
"You're very welcome," Antony murmurs, moving back and forth between Stephen's nipples, licking and sucking and biting, never once letting up on how he's tormenting his cock.
It's not long before Stephen is making soft whimpering noises, his breath hitching as his arousal builds. "Sir? Please?" he murmurs, his fingers tighten against the nape of Antony's neck. "Sir please..."
"Please what?" Antony teases, thrusting between his boy's cheeks.
"Please... please may boy cum?" Stephen licks over his lower lip, his gaze fixed on his Sir. "Or may boy help Sir orgasm first?" Whichever, Stephen hopes he gets permission real soon.
"You can come," Antony says, pulling harder, the tip of his cock catching on Stephen's hole. "You can come all over me, boy," he growls.
"Oh thank you, thank you..." Stephen gasps out his gratitude as he leans back, increasing the pull on his dick just a hint more. It's enough to push him over the edge, his body shuddering hard.
"That's it. Messy boy," Antony grins, thrusting more sharply, his own orgasm right there.
"Hmm," Stephen agrees breathlessly. "Your messy boy." He grinds down against Antony's cock, willing his Sir to orgasm.
"Mine." Antony nods, groaning roughly as his climax hits him, cock spurting between Stephen's cheeks.
Stephen smiles, his hands sliding over Antony's hair, his fingers petting warm skin as he makes soft soothing noises as his husband slumps, spent and satiated.
Antony tilts his head back, looking up at Stephen. His gorgeous husband, his beautiful boy. "I love you."
Stephen smiles, holding that icy blue gaze, all he can see is the love Antony has for him, the deep connection they share. He's never felt more complete, more right than he does in this perfect, intimate moment. "I love you too."