Not just wanting it—needingit.
“I want you to have control of my orgasms, Sir.” I whisper the words, because that’s all the volume I can manage.
Carter’s face transforms into a beaming smile that makes my pulse surge. “Such agoodboy for me,” he softly says as he rises from the couch to stand in front of me.
Internal programming is thrown into complete chaos as my soul, body, and brain all struggle for control.
Then he reaches out and grabs my cock, squeezing it. It startles me and I flinch, but his other hand cups the back of my neck and traps me there even as my cock hardens in his hand. He pulls my head forward, so our foreheads are touching.
“Good boys get rewards,” he says as he quickly strokes me. “You may come.”
I…I don’t even know what’s going on. My body is merrily following along, my cock aching in that glorious way that tells me I’ll be comingreallyfast. That it’s someone else’s hand on my cock besides mine is a strange sensation, but Carter obviously knows his way around a cock. I’m not exactly lubed, but I’m leaking pre-cum and he smears that around with his hand.
When my cock explodes only moments later, I reflexively reach out and grab him for balance, holding on and trying not to fall over from the intensity of my climax. The sudden lubrication allows his hand to quickly slick back and forth, using more pressure, almost too intense to bear now. I think he’s going to stop, but he continues, and the hand around the back of my neck tightens to keep me in place.
I’m helpless, gasping, and incredibly feel myself getting hard again.
That’s when his grip on my cock eases as he continues to slowly stroke me. His hands are slightly rougher than mine, hints of old calluses haunting his, where mine are smooth and soft. It’s a deliciously different sensation.
“Good boy,” he whispers.
I’ve never gotten hard again so quickly before. I also realize my hips are rocking back and forth in time to his motions, my body actively participating in whateverthisis even though my brain is still stuck inwhat the fuck?mode.
I can’t exactly say I want him to stop, because I don’t. When my eyes drop closed, one finger painfully digs into the back of my neck.
“Eyesopen,” he firmly orders without raising his voice. “Eyes onme.” When I immediately comply and find myself staring into his brown gaze, he smiles again. “Goodboy,” he coos.
My grip tightens on his body and I whimper, helpless, as his hand skillfully pulls me close to the edge…
And keeps me there, reading my body and not getting me over.
I’m sooo fucking close, too, and even when I try fucking his hand harder, he compensates, leaving me frustratingly horny.
“Please,” I finally whisper, reduced to begging and no longer too proud to admit it. “Please make me come.”
One eyebrow arches.
“Please make me come,Sir.”
Another smile. “Good boy.” And he does, this time needing to drape an arm around me and lower me to the floor because my knees give out from the force of my orgasm.
We sit there with me cradled against him, my eyes closed, my head resting against his chest. We’re both covered in spooge now and he doesn’t apparently care.
I guess I shouldn’t, either.
I don’t know when my tears started, but at some point I realize Carter’s rocking my body, his arms around me, his chin rubbing against the top of my head.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let it all out. You’re not alone anymore, boy—I’ve got you. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you fall. I’llalwayscatch you, I promise.”
* * * *
I don’t know how long we sit there, but by the time I finally come back to myself, everything’s sort of dried out and crusty, and I’m feeling more than a little self-conscious.
I’m also wondering if Carter expects me to reciprocate.
I’m…well, I’m straight, and I’m not sure how I feel about that possibility.
I guess maybe I should have asked a few more questions before we actually started this, but I trusted him.
