“Use your fingers. Open your hole. I want to watch.”
He reaches back with one hand, tentative, bracing himself on the other, and rubs the lube gently around his little pucker and then eases his middle finger in. Just a little. Just the tip.
“More,” I growl.
He does as I say, balling the rest of his fingers and thrusting his middle finger into himself deeply. He works it in and out, grunting softly when he fully extends it. I stroke myself slowly, sensation darting up and down my cock, trying not to blink as I watch him.
“Another,” I pant when I’m sure he can take it.
He does as I say. Rubbing himself on the outside before squeezing two fingertips tightly together and sliding them in.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yeah,” he pants. “But it feels better when you do it.”
Oh fuck. This boy knows just what to say to mess with my head.
I trace my fingers slowly up his inner thigh, teasing his balls with my nails until he moans, and then I slide my forefinger in. His head rears back and his own fingers slip out. No matter, I quickly replace them with two and then three of my own. His sweet little ass throbs in surprise, quivering as he relaxes and accepts me.
I lube my dick and hold it straight, angling myself so if he tries to sit on his haunches, he’ll impale himself on my cock.
“Sit,” I say softly.
He looks back, taking my dick and lining it up, wriggling his hips until I thrust up and nudge my tip in. He’s slick and slippery, and my head slides in fully. He’s silent for a moment, back tensed hard, and then a high, desperate cry fills the room.
I love that sound.
I love it andloveit.
I love it so much that I have to breathe in and out through my nose to stop myself from grabbing his hips and slamming him all the way down. He starts moving cautiously, skittishly sitting down on me until I feel him flinch and lift him up. We work together like that. Him sinking down and me lifting him up. We do it again and again until he’s taking as much of me as he’s ever taken.
“Want to learn how to milk it, baby?”
“Uh-huh.” He nods, turning his head so I can see one side of his face.
“Okay, clench your muscle really hard. Right here.” I thrust where I want him to clench. He does it, and as he does, I lift him up by his hips. His tight ring squeezes and drags up my cock, flooding me with pleasure so sweet it leaves me groaning. I make him do it again. And again. I make him do it until his little ass is quivering and his squeeze is nowhere near as strong as when we started.
“Want Daddy to help you?” I say when he pauses.
“Yes, please, Daddy.”
“Okay.” I thrust my hips up, holding him right where I want him. “Clench hard…harder than that.” When he can’t, I swing my hand back and give him a sharp slap on the ass. It works like a charm. He squeezes me so hard my head spins, and I feel like I’m drowning in good things. We do it again. And again. We do it until his ass is cherry red, and he’s grinding himself on me, hips rocking backward and forward. Frantic. Wanton.
“Start stroking,” I groan. “Now! Stroke hard and fast.”
He slips a hand into his jock and his arm starts pumping. He does it the way he does everything, with unbridled zest. The next time he sinks down on me, I dig my heels into the mattress and slam home. I penetrate him fully. Up to the hilt.
Deep.
As deep as I can go.
His head drops back and he wails, clenching down on me involuntarily, thrashing and digging his nails into my thighs.
“Did Daddy just pop that third ring, baby?” I ask when he stills.
He nods unsteadily, still twitching and groaning, grunting as he grinds me. His hips rock. His ass is soft and fleshy against my lower belly as I thrust into him. He grinds and grinds. He doesn’t stop until he’s ground me to dust. To nothing. To pieces. To rapture.
A long time later, he’s lying in my arms, hands cupping his mouth to my ear as if he’s telling a secret. “I liked that, Daddy. I liked it so much. It felt good. It felt wrong and right in all the best ways.”
