“Not so hard,” Thomas warned. “We don’t want to damage that beautiful skin of yours.”
Scott relaxed his hand, no longer using his nails but the tips of his fingers to stroke his skin. It felt nice, relaxing even.The goosebumps were permanent, and he kept shivering, breath catching each time he did.
“Pinch your nipple again.”
Scott flinched at his own touch, thrusting his hips forward. It was his fingers and his nipples, but after stroking his skin until he was almost comatose, the sharp bite of pain shocked him.
“You really do like that, don’t you?”
Apparently, from the hot heaviness of Scott’s cock, he did.
He ached.
“Do you want to know how I can tell?” Thomas asked.
Scott was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question. He hoped it was. He was too distracted by his body to formulate a reply.
“You’re breathing harder,” Thomas said. “I can see your pulse at your neck.”
Scott swallowed. He could feel the pounding there too, the swish in his ears, the thud in his chest.
“Your skin is tight, sensitive, and that poor nipple you’ve pulled at has got a shade darker.”
The nipple in question throbbed, and Scott didn’t think, he didn’t wait for direction, he ran his hand up his body to twist it. Another gasp tore out of him as he arched his back.
“And your cock, Scott. It’s so fucking hard. It keeps slapping on your belly, leaving a wet mark. It needs your hand.”
Scott reached for it –
“But you’re not going to touch it yet.”
Scott furrowed his brow. A sound of distress he tried very hard to keep in somehow got past his lips.
Thomas chuckled.
“First, you’re going to torture your other nipple. I want it that darker shade. I want to know they’re both throbbing when you finally touch yourself.”
Scott did as he was told, tormenting his untouched nipple with pinches and twists. He writhed on the bed, unable to stophimself. Long minutes passed. His cock kept twitching. He kept making noises he didn’t mean to, like sighs and gasps, but they were too soft to be picked up by the camera’s microphone.
“You’re a sticky mess, Scott.”
Thomas’s voice was low, almost angry. Scott twitched his eyebrows, about to open his eyes and check that it was only his voice – he’d not done something to upset him.
“It’s a fucking sight to see,” Thomas murmured, softly again. “You can touch your cock now, fuck into your fist.”
The wetness surprised Scott at first. One stroke of his cock and his hand was drenched in precum. It leaked out of him as he pumped, and he was sensitive, more sensitive than he expected.
“Fuck your hand.”
Scott moved his hips, chasing his orgasm, curling his toes. It wasn’t far away. He could feel it building, and he wanted it, not for the camera, or even Thomas, but for himself.
“Yes, Scott, yes, get yourself off.”
Scott gasped as he came onto his chest. The orgasm stretched and stretched with the background throb of his nipples and the tightness to his skin. His cum hit his chest, and he shivered, slowing the pace of his hand, enjoying the last jolts of his cock.
He let go, relaxing his shoulders and sinking into the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come like that from touching himself.
“Really good.” Thomas chuckled.
