I hear him get off the bed, hear the zipper of his overnight bag opening. A moment later, he's back, and I hear the distinctive click of a plastic cap opening, the squelch of lube being squeezed out.
"You brought lube?" I ask, my voice muffled by the pillow, ass still arched wantonly.
"I've been thinking about this all week, remember? Planning it—how I'd finger-fuck your hole until you cum untouched." His slick finger circles my entrance, teasing the spit-wet rim, the cool lube making it twitch. "I wanted to be prepared. Didn't want to get here and not be able to touch you the way I wanted—stretch you open wide."
"Always thinking ahead. Always prepared—like a good boy scout planning how to wreck my ass."
He presses one finger into me slowly, carefully, and the lube makes everything smooth and slick and easy. It burns a little at first, the stretch and the intrusion of his thick digit pushing past my tight ring, but underneath the burn is something else— a deep, building pressure that morphs into throbbing pleasure, coiling tight at the base of my spine, my inner walls fluttering around him as he sinks knuckle-deep.
"More," I gasp, pushing back onto his finger, impaling myself greedily. "I can take more. I want more—finger me harder, add another."
He adds more lube, generous with it, the cool slickness dripping down my crack, then works a second finger into me slowly. Scissoring them wide, opening me up, stretching my hole until the burn fades to a delicious fullness, my rim gripping his digits as he thrusts in and out. His other hand reaches around to stroke my cock, gripping the slick shaft firmly, and I'm completely overwhelmed, sensation coming from everywhere at once—his fingers curling inside me, rubbing my walls,while his hand jacks my dick in time, the dual assault making my prostate ache, my balls heavy and full. Too much and not enough, every thrust of his fingers sending sparks through my core.
"I want to be inside you," Ivan says, his fingers pumping deeper. "Not today, not until we're both really ready and we've prepared properly. But I want you to know how much I want it. How much I think about it—shoving my cock into this tight ass, fucking you until you come."
"I want it too. I want to feel you inside me—your thick dick splitting me open, pounding into me. Want to know what it's like to be filled by you."
"Soon. I promise. Soon." He curls his fingers inside me, searching, and then hits something that makes me moan into the pillow—white-hot pleasure exploding through me, my prostate lighting up like a live wire, every press sending shockwaves to my cock.
"What the fuck was that?" My whole body is shaking, hole clenching spasmodically around his fingers.
"Your prostate, I think. I did some research. Wanted to know how to make you feel good—how to finger-bang you until you're a wreck."
"You researched how to finger me? Jesus, Ivan!"
"I researched how to make you feel good. How to hit your p-spot just like this." He does it again, pressing deliberately against that spot, rubbing in firm circles, and pleasure crashes through me like a wave, building relentlessly. My cock pulses in his hand, pre-cum drooling steadily, and without warning, I'm coming, coming hard—my hole spasming around his fingers, prostate throbbing as ropes of cum shoot from my dick, spilling all over the sheets beneath me in hot, messy spurts, my body convulsing with the intensity, every muscle seizing in ecstasy.
"Oh my God!"
I collapse completely, boneless and shaking, unable to form words or thoughts, my ass still twitching from the aftershocks, cum cooling on my skin. Ivan pulls his fingers out slowly, gently, careful not to hurt me. He rolls me onto my back with tender hands, and I look up at him. He's still hard, his cock dark and straining, that thick veined shaft curving up, pre-cum dripping from the flushed head, practically begging for attention, balls heavy and drawn tight.
"Your turn," I manage, still shaky, body humming.
"Hang on, wait a minute. You just came hard as fuck."
"I want to. I want to jack your big cock until you paint me with your load." I sit up, still trembling, and push him down onto his back. "Lie down. Let me take care of you—milk you dry."
I straddle his thighs and wrap my hand around him. He's thick and hot in my grip, the girth barely fitting my fingers, his hips already moving, thrusting up into my fist desperately for friction, the slick pre-cum easing the slide.
"I love your cock," I tell him, watching his face contort with need. "I love how big you are. How thick—stretching my hand like this. How heavy you feel in my grip, pulsing for me."
"Jay—"
"I love watching your face when I touch you. The way your eyes go dark with lust. The way you bite your lip when you're trying not to come too fast—like a good boy holding back."
He's biting his lip right now, exactly like I described, his teeth sinking into the soft pink flesh, a drop of blood welling up. I tighten my grip and stroke faster, adding a twist on the upstroke over his leaking head, thumb pressing into the slit to coax more pre-cum.
"I think about you inside me all the time," I say. "I think about how full I'll feel—your fat cock stretching my tight ass wide, pounding deep. How good it's going to be when we finally do it for real."
"Fuck. Jay. I'm so close. I can't—your hand's too good, stroking me like that—"
"Come for me. I want to watch you come. Shoot your hot load all over. Want to see you fall apart, cum spraying everywhere."
I stroke him hard and fast, my other hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten, and he falls apart beneath me. His back arches off the bed, his mouth opens in a silent shout, cock swelling in my grip before erupting in thick white spurts across his stomach and chest—hot, sticky ropes landing in messy streaks, some hitting his chin, the scent of cum filling the air.
I work him through it, slowing my strokes as the aftershocks fade, watching his face twist in bliss, until he's twitching and oversensitive, pushing my hand away with a whine.
"Too much," he gasps. "Can't—fuck, my dick's throbbing."
