The idea causes me to freeze. I swallow hard, a thousand thoughts traveling through my mind. What if we can’t do it? What if I fail to make this pleasurable for him? What if I leave him with another bad sexual memory? I’ll lose the only person I’ve had feelings for in a long time. I don’t know if I can handle that.
But just as my thoughts are about to spin out of control, he puts his hands on the back of my head and says, “Calm down. Breathe with me, okay?”
I wasn’t aware that he recognized my struggle, but he places his forehead against mine and leaves it there, breathing in and out and encouraging me to do the same. After several seconds, I find myself relaxing—until the thing he says next riles me up again, but in an entirely different way.
“Now, don’t you want to fuck me, Daddy?” he asks cheekily.
“Absolutely, I do,” I reply, and I slowly start pressing my cock harder against his hole. The tip slides in, and I moan as he lets out a whimper. But he doesn’t move away this time, keeping his legs up and his hands on the back of my head, which I take as signs of encouragement, so I move a little further in.
“Slowly,” he says.
I nod, because that’s precisely what I plan to do. I take my time inserting myself, looking at him to gauge his reactions, and moving slowly. Once I’m all the way in, he’s breathing fast, and pain shows on his face, so I pause, giving him time to adjust.
“Okay,” he says after a minute or so, even though discomfort still shows on his face. “You can move now.”
I nod again and carefully start thrusting. He still looks like he’s in pain, but after a while, I can see when pleasure starts overtaking it. What a sight to see.
I pick up the pace slightly, and before long I can see him letting himself get lost in the rhythm of my thrusts. He moans, his mouth wide open, his legs wrapped around me. Still, I make sure to hold back, but his next words surprise me and cause me to almost blow my load in the condom.
“Go faster, deeper, and don’t come. If you come before me, I will stab you withmycake knife.”
Fuck, I love the mouth on him, bossing me around, threatening me even... It’s turning me on in a way I didn’t think possible. This French guy is going to be the death of me, I tell you.
And then, as I fuck him faster, he makes it even worse.
“Yes, fuck me, Daddy.”
“Keep talking like that and you might actually have to stab me.”
“No, don’t come! Just a little longer...Ah.”
Then, seemingly without thinking, he reaches for his cock. He starts stroking it using his fingers in the way I’d pictured doing earlier.
Fuck, that image... His cock is a little bigger now that it’s hard, but it’s still small, and I’m all here for it, my eyes glued to it. I love, love a small cock, especially on a fit-looking guy like him. I feel like I’m about to blow, and damn, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in.
Then, luckily for me, something sets him over the edge, and he comes, shooting his load out over his stomach. That, along with him clenching his hole around my cock, is all I can handle. There’s no stopping it now, and just seconds after him, I reach my own peak, filling the condom to the brim as load after load shoots out of me. For a moment, it seems like my orgasm will last forever, because whenever I think I’m done, there’s more. I’ve never come this hard in my life, and I know it’s not just because it’s been a while; it’s mostly him. If this keeps going, thecondom will become useless, I find myself thinking. I’ll get this French boy pregnant—or at least try.
It’s a strange thought, and it would have made me chuckle if I had any decent grip on reality—if I didn’t feel like I was floating away, carried off by the unending sensations of bliss coursing through me.
But I have Luc beneath me, functioning as my anchor, and after several seconds, the feeling subsides and eventually stops. When it does, I find myself collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, my cock buried deep inside him. For a moment, I forgot about everything but myself, but now I’m back and ready to fully focus on him again.
“How was that?”
He nods, breathing too fast to reply. “Très, très bien,” he eventually says.
“So, worth repeating?”
“Absolument.”
“Good,” I reply, smiling wide and savoring the moment a few seconds longer. Then I pull out, remove the condom, and roll off him. To my surprise, when I lie beside him, he turns toward me and puts his arm around me.
Oh, my heart . . .
“I didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.”
“I’m not,” he says sleepily, his eyes closed. “I’ll leave soon.”
“Okay. Then I’ll take what I can get.” I pull his warm body closer to me and start to caress his back. He groans, drapes his leg over me, and holds me tight. Before long, despite his statement, I notice that his breathing has slowed and he’s fallen asleep.Goodness. Not only is he a cuddler, but he’s also a sleep cuddler. Have I won the lottery, or what?
