“Good boy,” he whispers, and there’s a teasing edge to his voice that makes me snort softly.
Another quick kiss, and then he’s reaching for the lube, spreading a generous amount on his index and middle fingers, and then he pats my thigh.
“Feet on the sofa and spread your legs for me, baby boy.”
I comply instantly, and get a pat on my abs for it. I contract them at the contact, and get such a thrill by his responding hum of appreciation.
He circles my hardening dick with his free hand and reaches down with the other, stroking my balls with a feather-soft touch before circling my rim with one finger.
“So pretty,” he says, almost to himself.
He proceeds to put on a masterclass in teasing, stroking my dick every once in a while with an almost lazy effort, while slowly—veryslowly—loosening up my hole with soft touches and gentle pushes of the tip of his finger.
It takes me no time to be fully hard again and ready for him, but I hold out for what I can only assume is ten minutes before I’m full-on begging again.
“More, Daddy. Please.”
“Not yet, baby. You’ll take three of Daddy’s fingers, then I’m going to taste your sweet hole, and then you’ll get Daddy’s cock.”
It sounds like heaven and hell at the same time, so I bite my lip and fist my hands by my hips, willing my body to hold out, to take every ounce of pleasure he’s doling out and wait for the moment when he finally gets inside me.
When he finally pushes that second finger in, it slips in easily. My hips twitch and lift up with the urge to thrust into his hand.
Jake seems to have forgotten he has my dick circled because he strokes down quickly after that, but then again I get nothing but soft murmurs and his two fingers pushing inside me torturously slowly.
Until he curves them and hits my prostate.
“God,” I shout, my voice coming out guttural. “Please,” I plead again, and from then on it’s the only word I’m capable of saying.
Through the slow stretching, through his careful addition of a third and final finger, and then when he settles between my legs and laps at my hole before licking into me with a type of precision and thoroughness I never knew could exist.
All the while, my eyes stay locked on his face, cataloging every tiny, miniscule change in expression. Every time his eyes grow darker with focus, soften around the edges when I make a sound he apparently approves of, the way they light up every time I beg him to just please fuck me already.
I’m learning the language of him, and when he finally puts on the condom and kneels in front of me, instructing me to pull my legs up by the back of my knees, and pushes into me, I know I will not only never be the same, but I’ll do whatever it takes to convince him we need to happen.
I can’t lose him.
It’s no wonder, then, that when he’s finally fully settled inside me, when I feel the heat of him warming me from the inside in a way that’s as much comfort as electrifying, that I pull him down and hold on to him for dear life.
I try to convey my devotion through a desperate kiss, and in return, I get willingness from him.
When I relax around him at last, and he shifts his hips back to pull almost all the way out of me only to snap them forward with a force that leaves me breathless, I can only breathe against him, lips unmoving but never breaking that connection.
And I keep holding on.
“Fuck, baby boy, you feel fucking amazing.”
His voice, gone deeper, vibrates through my chest. It has goosebumps breaking out from my shoulders to my toes.
Every thrust hits my prostate dead on, insistent and demanding, never giving enough relief or absence for the pleasure to regulate. It’s like I’m connected to a power tower, ready to explode at any second.
The way his belly brushes against my dick, trapping it between us, is simply another form of teasing, one I never thought could be almost an afterthought.
“Please don’t stop, Daddy,” I whine against his mouth.
“Won’t, Timmy,” he says between panting breaths. “Not until you come.”
“No, I—” Fuck, there’s no way of getting enough oxygen into my lungs to explain what I mean. “I’ve been about to come for like hours,” I say, more petulant and demanding than I mean to. “I don’t want you to stop even after I co-ooome.”