It’s six fingers, in case you were wondering
Ronan loosens my binds and slowly brings my arms down to my sides. He rubs his fingers into my skin, drawing gentle circles with his thumbs in the dips of my elbows. He pushes me to my knees, and I go willingly.
“I’m going to play with your ass now,” he says, patting the top of my head and pushing me onto all fours. The dowels are still banded to my nipples and the change in position sends more blood to my chest. My entire body hums with a dull throb that beats in time with my heart.
“Thank you, Ronan.”
“We’ll see if you want to thank me when I’m through with you.”
I’m pretty sure I will, but I bite my tongue because there’s a chance he could be right. He walks around me and fists the meat of my ass in his hands. He still has that glove on and it’s such a different feel from his bare hand. I shiver, and he pulls my cheeks apart and spits, a glob of warm saliva landing right on my hole.
I feel exposed.
Iamexposed.
My hole clenches, opening up and swallowing his spit like a hungry slut. He spits some more, until it’s running down my crack and over my balls, and I don’t know how I’m hard again, but here we are.
“What a nice hole you have, Kevin.” He slides his finger up and down my crack then pushes into me so deep I can feel where his knuckle fights against my hole to go deeper. He pulls his finger all the way out and shoves it back in.
Even though his finger is thin, it’s a jarring sensation and I startle when he adds a second. He pulls them apart and fucks my ass with his spread fingers, spitting again before adding a third. The burn around my rim is familiar and he pushes hard when he bottoms out. I rock forward, encouraging him to slide as deep into me as he can.
His hand stills and I hear a cap flip open, then cold wetness runs down my ass. I’m sure the floor is a mess, and I’m a mess too, and then he pulls the glove off and spits it onto my back.
Behind me, his hands come together and fingers from both push inside of me. It stings and stretches and I make an inhuman sound as he hooks his fingers into me and tries to spread me open.
“Ronan!” My voice comes out a hoarse scream and he stills his motions, but I don’t tell him no and I don’t tell him stop so he starts again.
“It’s six fingers,” he says, “in case you were wondering.”
My hole is slippery and slick, and I’m stretched wider than I’ve ever been before, and it hurts. It’s not the kind of hurt I’d expected when I showed up tonight. I’d planned to be hit, twisted, tied, spanked, maybe even slapped and punched, but I hadn’t counted on this. In hindsight now, with most of both of his hands shoved inside me, it seems like a silly oversight. What Dom wouldn’t use his hands as tools?
“Do you think I can get my fist inside of you?” he leans over me and whispers. In a surprisingly tender move, he drops a kiss against my spine, and the stretch inside my ass changes. He brackets a slick hand around my waist, holding me and petting me at the same time. “I have four fingers inside you, Kevin. That’s less than six. You’re fine.”
I’m twisting beneath him, writhing and whimpering, and he tightens his hold on my waist. His hand pushes into me, and my muscles strain against his knuckles. He wraps his arm around me and changes my position so I’m almost sitting, and then it happens.
Gravity does its job and the weight of my body works in his favor. My hole widens to accommodate him, and his hand is inside of me. His entire hand. My hole squeezes closed around his wrist, pulling him deeper. He fucks my ass with his fist and there’s no words for the way it feels.
It’s an overwhelming sharpness and pain, but a satisfying fullness when I hadn’t even known I’d been empty before. I come again without a single touch to my cock, the cum dribbling out. Every muscle of my channel constricts around his hand, and he stills, letting me ride out my completion while my rim flutters around his wrist.
“That’s three,” he laughs into my ear. “You weren’t expecting that one, were you?”
I shake my head.
He eases me against him and keeps his hand in me, waiting until I’ve melted against his chest to pull it free. My breathing returns to normal and I feel glaringly empty. I ache for the loss and I’m about to tell him as much, but he pops the bands off the nipple bondage, and the wood clatters to the ground.
Blood streams into my tortured nipples and I scream. I actually scream. My body bucks as a tortured cry tumbles out of my mouth, and he wraps his arms around me and holds me steady against him.
“It’s okay,” Ronan says. “This is what you’re here for.”
He’s right. He’s so right. I’m openly weeping and it feels so good because it’s okay for me to be here like this—sweaty in his arms and covered in cum, and lube, and spit. It’s so perfect and I can’t stop crying over the beauty of it all.
“Thank you, Ronan.”
“I’m not done with you yet.”
He pulls away and puts something inside me. It’s cold and big, but not as big as his hand was. It’s a plug of some kind, and he pats the base still exposed outside of my body.
Ronan comes around to the front of me and undoes the fly of his pants, and I realize he’s been dressed this whole time. I’m coated in every fluid possible except for blood and piss, and he’s fully dressed like he could hop up at any second and go to Sunday brunch.
