Okay, majorly obsessed. One of these days I was going to invest in the expensive nipple suckers and see how big I could get his.
“I like being edged,” he admitted softly.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“A lot. I mean, sometimes I’ll bust a quick nut, but if my roommate is gone, and I’ve got hours ahead of me, I’ll put on my favorite edging videos and…”
“Say no more.”
I grabbed the little silk bag full of goodies and set it on the bed. We switched positions so that I was laid up against the stack of pillows and he was between my legs, resting face up with his head on my belly.
His weight and wide back pushed my legs apart until my inner thighs ached from the stretch, and his massive body was spread out in front of me like an offering. My cock was stabbing him in the back of his neck.
Cursing under my breath, I grabbed the oil and dripped a generous amount of it over each nipple before setting it aside. Kissing the top of his head, I spread the oil across his chest until it glistened in the lamplight.
“There’s something about an oily, hairy chest that really fucking does it for me.”
“I can tell. You’re about to break my spine with your hard-on.”
He gently rolled his head from side to side, the back of his neck brushing my cock.
“You should see the view from here,” I murmured.
Satisfied that he was properly slicked up, I worked my fingers under each pec, popping them until his nipples pebbled and fattened.
He grunted, shifting his neck over my cock again.
“This isn’t too weird?” I asked, checking in.
“Just weird enough,” he replied, smiling. “I’ve never had somebody jiggle my chest like that.”
“Then I’ll keep going.”
“Please… yes,” he begged, letting the full weight of his head rest against my belly.
Bending my legs, I leaned forward and took each nipple between a thumb and forefinger and began rolling them. His chest expanded and deflated as satisfied moans left his lips.
I continued, switching it up every few minutes. He arched off the bed when I oiled his cock with one hand while using the other hand to bunch my fingertips around a nipple. I stroked and pinched down until his hips began to shift and roll and his chest started hitching violently.
His cock was painfully hard, and he’d have come if I’d gone for another stroke or two.
“Fuck, why did I tell you that I liked edging?”
His whine only encouraged my bad behavior. I spread oil down his belly, avoiding his dick as I worked my thumbs into his hip creases.
“Please,” he begged, scooping his hips, trying to press his desperate cock into my hands.
“So beautiful,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head.
I switched hands, tweaking the other nipple while sneaking my other oily hand down to his balls, tugging on them until he began to buck beneath me, frustrated, whimpering for my hand on his cock.
Only then did I stroke him. Too light, too soft, too slow, then switching it up whenever I felt like he was getting a little too close.
“Fuck, you’re torturing me,” he said, after I once again pulled my hand away seconds before he went.
“I’m just giving you what you asked for, big boy.”
“I know I asked for it,” he complained bitterly, “but you’re about to give me a heart attack.”
