Dylan didn’t answer, too busy moaning as Ryker fucked into him with his fingers.
Ryker worked on Dylan’s hole for a good five minutes, making sure to hit his prostate at regular intervals.
“I think that’s enough prep,” he mumbled, pulling out and grabbing the lube again. He slicked up his cock, getting it nice and dripping before he climbed up on the bed.
“It is?”
Dylan sounded worried.
“I’ll go slow,” Ryker soothed, straddling Dylan’s thighs and lining up his cock. “I’ll give you time to get used to it.”
He nudged his cock against Dylan’s opening, the tight ring of muscle clenched firmly shut, and lay down so that he lay on top of Dylan’s back.
“Relax your hole,” he instructed, wrapping his arm around Dylan’s throat and holding him tight against his chest as he nudged his cock at the boy’s entrance. “Breathe and let me in.”
He pushed firmly against Dylan’s opening, the tight ring slowly opening up around the head of his cock.
Dylan let out a yelp of pain and squirmed at the wide intrusion, but with Ryker pinning him down there was no escaping the intrusion. Ryker held himself still, waiting for Dylan to get used to the stretch.
“How does it feel?” he asked, Dylan’s ass squeezing down on the head of his cock.
“Sore,” Dylan mumbled, grabbing onto Ryker’s arm where it wrapped around his throat for support.
The tight pressure on Ryker’s cock was the best kind of torture, and it took all his willpower not to start thrusting his hips.
“You’re doing such a good job,” he said, pushing his cock deeper. “All you have to do is relax and take it.”
Inch by inch, Ryker worked his cock into Dylan’s impossibly tight hole, forcing the tense ring of muscle to open up and take him.
“You’re doing so good,” he growled, tightening his arm and pressing Dylan’s head back into his pecs. The crushing embrace, combined with the fact that he was resting almost all his weight on Dylan’s body, meant that Dylan couldn’t move an inch.
“I’m going to make you pass out,” he warned, flexing his arm.
He remembered August mentioning that breath play was one of Dylan’s favorite things.
Dylan made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, and when Ryker cut off his air, he tensed up and started squirming.
It felt amazing.
“Don’t be scared,” Ryker growled, counting the seconds. “You can take it.”
Dylan’s whole body clenched, his hands clawing at Ryker’s arm, and then all at once his body went limp.
Ryker immediately relaxed his chokehold and started moving his hips, fucking into Dylan’s hole with long, hard strokes that had the whole bed knocking against the wall.
He felt like an animal.
Dylan came to with a panicked start, slamming his head up and crashing it into Ryker’s chest. Ryker reached down and held him tight, pushing him back down into the mattress with a grunt and slamming his cock balls deep into his ass.
When he realized where he was and what was happening, Dylan went limp and surrendered to being fucked.
Ryker’s arm stayed wrapped around his throat. He wouldn’t make Dylan pass out again – restricting blood flow to the brain wasn’t something you should be careless with – but the threat was there.
“Was that too scary?” he asked.
Dylan took a while to answer, but then he shook his head. “Felt good.”
Ryker laughed, fucking him harder. August had really struck gold with this one.
