1
Simon
The calloused fingers pressed against Simon’s neck belonged to a stranger—a man Simon had never met, but who he could never forget. As the pressure grew and his trachea narrowed beneath the even pressure of his partner’s hand, Simon closed his eyes and parted his lips. His cock throbbed.
Yes.
“Harder,” Simon whispered hoarsely. Words were a struggle. If the thumbs pushing against his throat would dig a little harder against him, they’d choke them out entirely. How good would it feel then? Made helpless, madeweak.As spots danced in front of his eyes and his lungs burned, begging for relief, he’d be forced to accept the pleasure given to him—dominated so fully that nothing, not even breath, was his choice.
Another pulsing tremor ran through Simon’s cock. He leaked precum against his flat stomach, the wet drip a constant, physical reminder of his depravity. This was what he’d asked for—this was what hewanted—and the man on top of him, the stunningly handsome figment of his imagination, was happy to oblige. “Harder.”
The man—the stranger—had a name, a face, a personality. Simon knew them every bit as well as he knew the stranger’s voice. Harlow Warwick—H—the only man Simon had ever wanted, and the one Simon was sure he would never, ever have. At least, in his fantasies, Harlow was there with him, touching him, filling him until he couldn’t stretch any more.
Simon gasped, struggling against the pressure on his neck. It made fantasy-Harlow chuckle, the notes of his voice rich with amusement. The bed rocked as he moved, and his voice, darkened by arousal, whispered into Simon’s ear. “Harder? I’m not even inside of you yet. Wait until I’ve filled you up with my cock—until you’re so stuffed that you can’t move without feeling like you’re being ripped apart. Tell me to go harder then, Kid. It’ll be worth the wait.”
A noise, rattled and rasping, broke through the barrier of Simon’s teeth. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep it at bay, but it was no use—the sound emerged from him regardless, half a groan, half a cry. The longer the pressure blocked off his airway, the foggier his mind grew and the more his arousal swelled. Desperation crept through his veins, tingling just below the surface of his skin. It turned his thoughts to cotton, fluffy and inconsequential, woven together to form a single, ball-like mass of need.
Want him inside me,those thoughts whispered in an asynchronous chorus.Want him deep. Want him raw.
For a moment, the pressure stopped. Simon gasped greedily for breath and filled his lungs, lifted himself up onto his elbows, and crushed his lips against those of the man above him. They collapsed back down onto the bed, kissing, while Harlow parted Simon’s legs and lifted him gruffly by the hips. A second later, his thick cock nudged its way between Simon’s cheeks, rubbed his slick taint, and then sank deep into Simon’s ass with little regard for his comfort. Simon broke the kiss to gasp and wormed his hips, welcoming it inside. He was wet from lubricant, his body ready. It wanted Harlow’s cock to breed him, seed him, fill him up… and tonight, it was going to get everything it so desperately wanted.
“Feels so good,” Harlow rasped. His voice was rugged and low, confident in everything it said, and right now, it had turned gritty with lust. The sound of it made Simon’s toes curl, and he tightened and loosened his hole around Harlow’s cock in response, trying to draw him deeper. “Oh,fuck,you feel good… wanna pump it all inside you.”
“It’s not safe,” Simon whispered. He bore down on Harlow’s thick length, then clenched, groaning as a mind-numbing wave of pleasure billowed though him. Harlow was huge—both in length, and in width—and Simon was a virgin. Or, he had been, before Harlow had gone and stuffed him full, forcing his cock into a hole too tight while he enjoyed it the entire time. “Gonna go into heat soon…”
A chuckle. An impassioned kiss. A heated whisper. “Good.”
Like a crack racing across a sheet of ice, pleasure cleaved Simon in half. He bucked against the cock buried in him—the one thatbredhim—and worked his hips in a frenzied motion as Harlow chuckled darkly and planted a hot kiss against the corner of his lips.
“You want me to come inside you?” he asked. As he spoke, he thrust into Simon until his balls smacked against Simon’s ass. The pressure, the fullness, was too much—Simon cried out in ecstasy. “Fuck, you’re a depraved little creature, aren’t you, Kid? But how can I say no when you feel this good…”
“Don’t,” Simon begged. His lungs were full now, but he was short of breath regardless. The more Harlow said, the harder he worked his hips, eager to make both of them come. “Don’t tell me no. Give it to me. Fucking put your cum inside of me. Want it sofuckingbad…”
“Dirty mouth for such a little boy.” Another thrust. Simon saw stars. “If you want me to knock you up that bad, then I have to do it, baby boy. I have to. Can’t put my cum anywhere else. Gonna turn you into a daddy.”
A series of sequential thrusts, deep and satisfying, pushed Simon toward the edge. He closed his eyes, imagined Harlow’s weight pushing down against him, and parted his thighs wider as he was reamed. Rushing heat raced through his gut, tightening in his groin. With every thrust, Harlow struck his prostate, and the astounding pleasure it brought with it made Simon’s whole body clench. He tightened his hole around Harlow’s shaft in spastic waves, too addled by arousal to be able to stick to a rhythm. All his body wanted was to feel more of the ecstasy Harlow brought—to milk every last drop of pleasure he could from Harlow’s cock. It turned Simon wild with need.
Nothing else mattered anymore.
He wanted to be bred.
Neededit.
As Harlow bucked into him, one of his hands found its way back to Simon’s neck. It pushed down, crushing him, constricting his airway once more. Simon choked and tried to thrash, but it was no use. The more he fought, the weaker he felt, and the less useful what little air he did manage to suck into his lungs became. Spots appeared before his eyes. Orgasm swelled within him, intense like it had never been before. The more control he lost, the more wild his body became, until it fed off instinct completely.
Air. Sex. Pleasure.
More. More.More.
“Yes,” Simon gasped. Outside his room, there was a noise—knuckles on wood. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling for the fantasy to end yet. He was so close to coming.Soclose. “Knock me up. Come inside me. Want it bad—wantyoubad. Wanna show the world that I’m a fucking slut for you.”
“Ohshit,” Harlow uttered. There was urgency in his voice—the kind that told Simon that the dam was bursting and he was about to shoot. “Here it comes. Here all of it comes. Going to flood you. Gonna get you pregnant.Fuck—”
But if Harlow was about to say anything else, it was lost to Simon’s imagination, because at that moment, Simon’s bedroom door burst open. The fantasy dissolved. With a yelp, Simon twisted himself up in his sheets and rolled over, hoping that it might help mask the raging erection he’d been seconds away from addressing. The oversized dildo in his ass—the one he’d been pretending was Harlow’s cock—wouldn’t be visible, but it wasn’t going to go anywhere, either.
“You still sleeping?” Simon’s teenage brother, Shep, asked as he entered the room.
Simon squinted at him, doing his best to make him out in the absence of his glasses. As it turned out, Shep was making direct eye contact—great.Scowling, Simon replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “Yes.”
