“Do you want me to eat you, pet?” Cantrell spread Illias open. “Show you how much I crave you?”
“God,please, Father. I need it,” Illias whimpered. Cantrell leaned forward and buried his face between Illias’ cheeks, licking once across his hole. “Ah!Fuck, give me a—ah—warning, will yo-u?” Illias stuttered between whimpers.
Cantrell made a noise, but didn’t pull back. He traced his tongue around Illias’ hole, pressing his tongue flat against it and giving long, slow licks, enjoying the sounds it drew from Illias and the way it made him squirm. Cantrell wondered if this was Illias’ first time having his ass eaten. Based on how much he writhed and the noises he was making, Cantrell assumed it was. Or at least it wasn’t something Illias had done often. Either way, it didn’t matter. Cantrell cared more about the fact that he was the one making Illias feel good. That no one else would ever get to see him like this. Pants and underwear barely past thick, hairy thighs, legs partially spread, presenting his ass like a good boy. Cantrell leaned back slightly and spat on Illias’ hole, making him jerk.
“Fuck, I didn’t realize how nasty you were, Father,” Illias laughed breathlessly.
Cantrell chuckled, keeping Illias’ ass spread with one hand and using the other to tease the tight ring of muscle by circling it with a finger. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me yet, pup.”
Illias moaned, pushing back against Cantrell’s fingers. “I know one thing though: your fingers feel amazing inside me.”
“Is that your way of asking for something?” he teased, pressing his thumb to Illias’ hole.
“I thought you said ‘fuck the games,’” Illias whined.
“I did but”—Cantrell pushed his thumb in and Illias mewled—“You beg so pretty for me, pup.” Cantrell worked his thumb slowly in and out, cautious of the fact that spit didn’t work too well for lube. “What is it that you want?”
“You, always you.” Illias moaned, dropping his head against the wall with a dull thud. Cantrell twisted his thumb, pressing it as deep as he could get it. “Fuck,” Illias whined. “I want you inside me. Want you to finally fuck me like I’ve wanted since we’ve met. Please, Father, I promise I’ll be a good boy.”
“I love listening to you like this. Words running together, breathless,needy.” Cantrell eased his thumb almost completely out, teasing Illias’ rim. “Do you think you deserve my cock inside you?”
“Please, Father,” he moaned. “I’ll do anything.”
Cantrell removed his thumb and got to his feet. “Finish undressing for me, pup.”
He stepped back to give Illias space, watching him strip with hungry eyes. Illias piled his clothes on the floor then dropped to his knees without being asked.
“Stay there, pup,” Cantrell ordered, mind racing with possibilities.
“Yes Father,” Illias replied, holding his hands behind his back as if it was natural instinct to present himself.
Cantrell took a few seconds to commit the sight to memory then left the living room. He dipped into the bathroom, quickly washed his lower face and gargled mouth wash, then went on to the bedroom. He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and his old rosary. Returning to the living room, Cantrell saw Illias still kneeling right where he had left him.
“Good boy,” he praised. He placed the lube and rosary on the small table next to the recliner then sat down. “Now, crawl to me.”
Redness coated Illias face as he did what he was told. Cantrell’s cock strained against his slacks, aching to be touched.
“Please, Father,” Illias started, kneeling between Cantrell’s legs. Nimble fingers worked at undoing Cantrell’s slacks. “Let me please you,” he said, taking out Cantrell’s cock.
Illias licked a strip from base to tip on the underside, swirled his tongue around the tip, then wrapped his lips around it. Cantrell tangled his fingers in Illias’ hair, guiding his head down. Encouraging him to take more into his mouth. Cantrell groaned, slumping back into the recliner while he watched Illias bob up and down.
“Such a good fucking boy,” Cantrell praised. Illias hummed around his cock and Cantrell moaned. “Christ, come here, I need to be inside you,” he said, releasing Illias’ hair.
Coming off Cantrell’s cock with a lewdsmack, Illias wiped the back of his hand across his mouth then got to his feet. He straddled Cantrell’s lap, hovering slightly. “What’s that for?” Illias asked, eyes darting to the rosary.
“I nearly forgot I brought this out.” Cantrell picked up the rosary. “Lean down for me, pup.” Illias bent his head down and Cantrell placed the rosary around his neck. “I want you to start wearing this beneath your clothes”—Cantrell grabbed the rosary and pulled Illias close—“so you’ll always know who you belong to.”
“I’m yours, Father,” Illias breathed. “All yours.”
“All mine. And now,” Cantrell said as he grabbed the lube off the table, “I can finally have what’s mine.” He dripped lube onto his cock then set the bottle aside. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock, pet. You’ve been so good and patient for me.”
“Please,” Illias whined, “can I?”
“Go ahead.” Cantrell released the rosary, allowing Illias free movement. He reached between them, replacing Cantrell’s hand, and Illias lowered himself slowly. Cantrell felt the tip ofhis cock meet resistance. “Take it slow, pet,” he murmured, holding Illias’ hips. “Don’t hurt—fuck,” the swear punched itself from Cantrell’s lungs as the head went inside Illias.
“Oh fuck,” Illias groaned, stilling for a moment. “I forgot how fucking thick you are. Holy fuck.”
Cantrell rubbed soothing circles on Illias’ hips. “It’s okay, take your time. You’re doing so well for me.”
