Stuart looks up at me and then down at me, smiling sweetly at my hole before devouring it again. When I moan, he plants a chaste kiss right in the middle, right where I close. Soft, puffy lips stamp their mark on me over and over.
My view is dreamlike and distorted. My knees are all but in my face, and my organs are being crushed as my ass is lifted clear off the mattress. Stuart’s hair is messed up. His eyes are closed and his mouth is on me. He’s eating me like a man possessed. Grunting softly, sighing and licking his lips when he comes up for air, extending his tongue into a point and worming it into me until I make almost the same sounds as when he took the bath brush to me.
I can’t speak and I can’t think. My thoughts are slow and delirious, drowned by pleasure and lust, so I’m surprised when I hear the sound of my voice, tinny and high, squealing, “Please, Daddy, please. Please,pleasefuck me now.” His eyes are hooded and heavy when he looks up. Ragged breaths puff out from an open mouth. I lean over and rummage in my drawer until I find my lube. “I’m negative,” I pant. “Got tested a while back.”
He blinks and seems to sober slightly, nodding, “I’m negative too. I got tested after Damien left. Haven’t been with anyone since.”
The familiar longing to throat-punch Damien finds me, but for once, I don’t dwell on it. I have more pressing things on my mind. Things like getting Stuart’s dick inside me before my mind breaks. Stuart dabs a generous dollop of lube on my ass, and before I have time to gasp from the cold, he presses it into me with a single slick finger. He does it the same way he does everything. Sure and decisive. A thick digit breaks my seal and slides into me with a sweet, spicy burn. The burn does nothing but fuel the deep, dull ache inside me. An ache to be full. An ache to be stretched out and stuffed. An ache to be fucked by Stuart Wiseman.
He extends his finger fully and thrusts deeply, drawing back slowly, teasing my gland lightly as he retreats. As he does it, he lectures me quietly about what he’s about to do to me, and sweet Jesus, it could not be any hotter.
“You’re going to feel some pressure, and then you’ll give way. There’ll be a deep stretch and a quick, sharp sting.” He strokes my shaft lightly and gives my balls a curt little tug when my eyes cross. “I’m going to give you what you want, but because you’ve never done this before, I’m only going to give you a taste. Just enough pain to balance the pleasure, okay?”
I nod wildly, mouth gaping open, as I fight the urge to roll my eyes back. “You know there’s good sore and bad sore, right?” he continues. “I want you to stay good sore the whole time. If it starts feeling too much, you tell me immediately.” His voice is rough and carries a clear warning. This isn’t the Daddy who just kissed my ass. This is the one who heats the seat of my pants.
“Yes, Daddy.” I gulp.
He slides another finger into me, watching my face closely as I accept it. It feels like a lot. The burn is hotter, and so is the stretch. I give him a nod when I’ve got it. He moves his hand slowly and speaks softly. “When I penetrate you, you’re going to feel like you want to tense, but I want you to do the opposite. I want you to open your hole by bearing down, trying to push me out…Not hard enough to strain, just hard enough that I feel you relax.”
Oh fuck.
Thank God I’m flat on my back. Thank God he’s arranged me just how he wants me because I swear, I’m legless and brainless right now. Stuart isn’t talking dirty. He’s not even lecturing me anymore. He’s patiently explaining how to bottom to me. He’s teaching me. That’s what he’s doing. It’s the best kind of attention. Pure and distilled. Thick and runny. Untainted and wholesome, and so fucking hot it has me moaning so low my spinal cord quivers. It feels like he’s pouring it into me, making me warm and full in places I didn’t know I could feel warm and full. Drip feeding me. Spoon feeding me. Pouring unadulterated attention directly into the bottomless pit I have for it.
I love it when he teaches me anything. I love being close to him, and I love that he takes the time needed to focus on improving me. I love it so much that I found myself squirming while being taught how to water houseplants the other day, but being taught how to take a dick?
Yeah, there are no words for that.
My brain has short-circuited, and I can barely hear him anymore. Time seems to lag. His mouth is still moving, but my hands are grabbing at him, looking for any part of him I can get hold of and dragging him frantically toward me. He pushes his pants down, kicks them off, and covers my body with his. He sinks down on me, holding me down with his full weight for a second. Crushing me into the mattress. Sensitizing every part of my body. Waking it up. Making it ache.
He’s heavy, and his skin is burning hot. It sears where we touch, making me arch to meet him, struggling as I try to get closer. He pushes himself up on his elbows and lines himself up. I watch as he does it, and I think of all the times I’ve been in his place. I’ve had lots of guys on their backs. Lots of girls too. Usually, I love this moment. The second right before shit gets real. That brief point in time when legs are splayed open and a worried little hole winks nervously at the head of a dick. I love it. I love knowing exactly what’s about to happen. Knowing how it’s going to feel. The rearing need as my dick strains to thrust. The anticipation of that pulsing squeeze. Sinking into a snug sleeve for my throbbing cock. The dizzying height of being right on the cusp of wanting something and getting it.
Stuart must be feeling that now. He must know I’ll be tight and warm inside. He must know it won’t go in easily. He must be expecting the tension, that deep push and pull. He must know it won’t be long until he feels it, the tightness and warmth. The smooth slide. The relief of being inside someone else.
He reaches down and notches his head against my opening. He was right. It does feel like pressure. A heavy weight. A dense force. He takes his time, pressing gently as my ass twitches and struggles against the intrusion. He holds firm. Steady and consistent like always. Unblinking as he splits me open. I don’t move. I don’t buck or complain. I hold still as I feel myself stretch and sting.Jesus, the sting.He gives me more as soon as I’m ready, thrusting deeper every time he wins out against my spasming hole. He slips through my ring with a grunt and a sigh. My lungs open, and I revel in the feeling.
Deep pain.
Good pain.
Goodpain.
The kind of pain that shoots up my spine and arches my back clear off the mattress, forcing a thin, primal cry from low in my chest.
He stills, watching me, checking on me, moving slowly so I can feel every inch of him. Giving me the gift I’ve never trusted anyone else enough to ask for. A sharp sting, a dull tug when he moves, a deep ache that quickly starts throbbing. He starts moving in earnest, tentatively gliding into my ass until he meets resistance and then pulling back and doing it all again. Rubbing me raw. Rubbing me sore. Powerfully stroking the most sensitive parts of me, stoking sensations that others might feel as pain, letting them build, giving them air, letting them flare. Watching calmly as my nerves and brain scramble the feelings. Pain grows and blooms, stretching grotesquely, opening and blossoming into something beautiful.
I reach for my dick, desperate to chase the feeling into something bigger, but Stuart bats my hand away. He takes a wrist in each hand and stretches my arms above my head, pinning me as he starts thrusting in earnest. I struggle but only to test his strength, to prove to myself that he has me. That he’s bigger and stronger. That I’m safe in his arms.
I am.
I’m safer than ever.
Pleasure and powerlessness engulf me, thrumming through me in furious, fluid waves. I look up, studying his face, trying to etch it into my memory, wanting to cling to everything about this moment. His eyes are half-closed and thin rings of blue swim around blown-out black orbs. His jaw clenches and relaxes with each thrust. He moves carefully inside me, thrusting smoothly, sliding his thick, bulbous head back and forth over my gland. Hard and fast on the in-stroke, slow and considered on the way out. He does it until I’m struggling for real, until I’m pleading for more and begging for release.
“Please, Daddy,please!”
He lets go of one of my wrists and sits back on his knees. He takes my free hand and guides it down, but instead of allowing it to latch on to my leaking cock, he guides it lower. He takes my fingers and gently makes me touch myself where his body meets mine. My rim feels unfamiliar, smooth and stretched out. So sensitive that a light touch makes me howl. I circle his dick at the base, and to my amazement, I find he’s holding back. He has at least an inch he hasn’t given to me. That makes me howl too. It makes me thrash to get closer to him, frantically trying to drag him deeper inside me. He holds me down with one hand and starts stroking my dick with the other. The fight leaves me. I’m stunned. Paralyzed by pleasure. My eyes slam shut and my head arches back. Ecstasy darts from my ass to my balls to my dick. Up my legs, up my spine, all the way to my fried brain.
He keeps fucking my ass, circling my dick tightly in his hand, pumping slowly. He removes the hand holding me down and lets me fuck into his fist unbridled. I’m rampant. Bucking wildly. Thrusting my hips to meet him with no care for the well-being of my plundered hole. Opening myself and embracing the sweet feeling of fullness. Excess. Completeness. I moan my ass off, making sounds I’ve never heard coming out of me before. Everything is bliss. Everything is euphoric.
