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You’re lying on your back next to Otto in his bed, talking and laughing and flirting. It’s easy and light and a pun you thought of last week comes to mind and you shoot a glance over at him and feel laughter bubble up inside of you.
“Hey- hey, Otto, you know what your other name should be?”
Otto lets his head fall sideways as he narrows his eyes at the tone you’ve just taken, trying to figure out what angle you’re coming from. “What?”
You can’t help but grin as you tell him, “Doc Cock.”
Otto groans, scoffing. “Shut up.”
You shake your head, sending one hand over to tangle with the wisps of his chest hair. “I mean, you do have your doctorate, and you have a fucking fantastic—“
“Finish that sentence and we won’t fuck for a month,” Otto interrupts.
“Personality, I was going to say. Wow, Otto, you need to get your mind out of the gutter.”
Otto rolls his eyes at you. Then rolls over and lays an elbow on either side of your head. His hips and chest bear down over you, stealing your breath. “My mind?” he asks, lightly grinding his hips down against yours. From behind him the actuators extend and brace against the ground. You can’t figure out why until you try to start rolling your hips up against his in return and he makes a clucking noise with his tongue, shaking his head no and leveraging you so you couldn’t move your hips at all.
You were completely at the mercy of the pace Otto wants to set. Heat that had already started gathering in your core grows impossibly hotter.
“Otto,” you whine, moving your hands to slide over his chest.
Otto chuckles, shifting and snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head to the pillow.
“Oh, you remember my name now, hmm? Well, too little too late. Time to give you a little lesson to remember correctly in the future, young man.” Otto dips his head and mouths along your jaw, taking his sweet time nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin.
You tilt your head back against the sheets and he laughs against your throat as he travels further down. He pauses when you gasp aloud and he takes extra time there, at the juncture of your neck and chest. One of his actuators pulls up from the floor, grabbing a spare pillow and carefully replacing the hand that was pinning yours with the pillow-actuator duo, making sure something soft is between your wrists and their grip.
Both hands free he drags one down your chest and cards the other through your hair, fingers tangling in and pulling taut, forcing your head back as he continues kissing across your neck to the other side. He thumbs over your chest where one nipple would be, if the guy who did your top surgery would have been a little more mindful to put them back. Still, the area regained much of its sensitivity, and you try to catch the whimper before it leaves your mouth. Otto notices your reaction, and pushes his thumb into small circles, applying extra pressure to the area.
“Otto, stop teasing,” you say again, trying to push your hips up for any amount of friction on your cock.
“Me? Teasing?” He licks the shell of your ear and says your name with a low rumble. “Does that sound like something I would do?”
“Yeah, you dick,” you say. He pulls the hand above you tighter, and your scalp prickles as every little tug is felt, lifting your chin higher, baring your throat to him.
“Mmm, I do not believe I have agreed to go by the moniker ‘you dick,’ and so this lesson is more important to continue than I first thought.” Otto lightly drags his fingernails down the center of your chest, nearly tickling you, until his hand is snaking between your hips, cupping you through your boxers. You can’t help the sigh of frustration you give as he passes over your dick, barely rubbing it at all before stilling his hand.
Otto lifts his hips so the only point of contact between you two is the hand ghosting over your crotch, the actuator holding your wrists, and one hand pulling tighter to the point of almost pain on your short hair as he smirks down at you, whispering hot in your ear.
“By the end of this you will be screaming my name. My correct name. I can promise you that.” He looks over you after he says that, watching a shiver race down your spine at his tone. He can probably see the heat burning your cheeks and staining your neck and chest—alongside the reddish-purple of his first few gifts of love-marks he’d already given you.
You lick your lips and know he can see the excitement and hunger in your eyes clear as day. For a moment his smirk drops into his gentle smile and he drops a kiss on your lips. “Love you,” he murmurs.
“Love you too,” you start—but you also want whatever game Otto was about to play with you. You’re dying to know what his “lesson” is going to entail and how long you’re going to be rutting into his hand begging to cum. Your mind is going hazy with lust just thinking about Otto edging you. So you start with repeating your love back to him, but then—
“Love you too… Doc Cock.” You can’t stop the shit-eating grin. Otto licks his lips and tilts his head, studying you closely, as if analyzing where and how he wanted to proceed next.
“Oh, my, my. Looks as if this lesson is going to take all night to imprint it upon you,” he says. He takes the base of your dick between two fingers and squeezes just a hair too hard. You moan, bucking up to try and get any friction in the movement.
“Ah-ah,” Otto tsks, “not yet.” He releases you entirely, your head falling slack against the pillow as he leans back to sit over your thighs, rubbing and pinching the sensitive skin there. “We’re just getting started.”