“Daddy?”
“Hold it there.”
Another frustrated sound, which might have even been a swear word, spits through gritted teeth.
“How does it feel?”
“Good, Daddy.”
“How much is inside you?”
“I don’t know. A couple of centimetres?”
“Push it a little deeper.” I count to three. “Stop.”
“Daddy!”
“Take it out.”
He sobs, but I know he’s doing as I ask.
“Push it in.” I count to five. “Stop. Take it out.”
I play with him like this for a while, letting him insert a fraction further each time before I command him to remove it. I have to stop stroking my own cock. I’m on the verge of an orgasm, and the wonderful sounds he’s making aren’t helping my own frustration one bit.
“Push it all the way in,” I tell him.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
He lets out a long, deep groan as he obeys. My spine tingles, and my toes curl at the sound.
“Fuck yourself as hard and as fast as you want.”
I start stroking myself again to the rhythm of his desperate pants. My breaths become erratic, my cock hypersensitive to the feel of my hand gripping it.
“That’s it, sweet boy. It sounds like you’re having so much fun fucking yourself for Daddy. I bet you look utterly beautiful with your eyes squeezed tight and your lips parted as you pant and groan for me. Can you feel all those ridges and bobbles stroking you? Stimulating you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Corey gasps.
“I bet they feel good, don’t they?”
“So good, Daddy.”
“I adore the sounds you’re making, sweet boy. They’re turning me on. I’m jacking off to the sounds you’re making and the gorgeous image of you in my head.”
“Oh, Daddy!”
“I’m so close, sweet boy. So close to spurting cum everywhere while I think of you.”
“Please,” he whispers. “Can I come? I need to come.”
“I’m going to imagine your mouth is around my cock. Hot and wet.”
“Oh, Daddy, I really need to come.”
“The things you’re doing to me with your tongue are amazing, sweet boy.” I groan for emphasis. “Lapping back and forth, sucking my cock, taking it deep.”
“Please?” Corey begs. “Please, Daddy!”
