He pushes in.
Slow. The slowest anything has ever moved. The head of his cock breaches my hole, thick and hot, the blunt pressure immediate and intense. My ass clenches instinctively around the intrusion, the stretch sharp and burning as my rim parts around his swollen head.
I bury my face in the pillow and breathe deeply through my nose, focusing on long, deliberate exhales, willing my body to soften, to open for him. The burn is real—his cock is much thicker than three fingers, the flared head stretching my hole wider than anything has before—but it's not pain like pain. It's fullness. Pressure. A deep, aching stretch that makes my toes curl and my breath hitch.
He stops after the first inch, completely still, his hands trembling slightly on my hips. "Okay? Talk to me." His voice is low, strained with worry and restraint.
"Yeah. Full. So full already. Keep going. Slow."
Another inch. The burn sharpens. His thickness forcing my ass open, the ring of muscle stretching taut around him. I feel every ridge, every vein as he slides in, the heat of his cock searing against my inner walls. My hole flutters around him,trying to adjust, and I hiss softly through my teeth. He pauses again, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on my lower back while the other stays steady on my hip, anchoring me.
"Breathe, Tex," he whispers. "Tell me when you're ready for more."
I breathe. Deep inhales. Long exhales. The muscle gradually yields, the sharp burn easing into a heavy, satisfying pressure that makes my cock throb against the sheets. The fullness feels right—deep and intimate, like my body is finally letting someone in on my terms.
"More," I say. "Please. Want all of you."
He slides in another careful inch. Pauses. Checks. "Still good?"
"More. Want to feel you deeper."
He continues like that—inch by careful inch—stopping every time to let me adjust, whispering soft words of encouragement, his hands never still, always touching, grounding. "You're doing so good," he murmurs. "Can you feel how much I want you? I always want you."
When he's halfway in, he leans forward, chest pressing warm against my back, lips brushing my shoulder. His cock is buried deep enough that I feel the steady throb of it inside me, stretching my hole wide, pressing against sensitive walls in a way that makes my breath shudder. The fullness is overwhelming, my ass clenching and relaxing around his thickness, every tiny shift sending sparks through me.
"You're taking me so well," he murmurs against my skin.
The words make my chest tight with emotion. Tears prick my eyes—not from pain, just overwhelming feeling. "I feel you. All of you. So thick inside me. Keep going. I want everything."
He slides deeper until his hips finally meet my ass. Fully inside. We both freeze. His cock is buried to the root, hot and thick, stretching my hole wide around him, the head pressed deep against my prostate in a way that makes my whole body tremble. He's shaking above me, breath ragged against my neck, every muscle taut with restraint.
"God," I turn my head. "Stormy. Look at me."
He looks at me. His eyes are wet. Not crying. Just overwhelmed. The sensation, the intimacy, the magnitude of what's happening—he is inside someone who wants him there. He is on top. He is in control and there's a man looking up at him with love so obvious it probably glows in the dark.
"Are you okay? Does it hurt? I can pull out—"
"If you pull out right now, I will never forgive you. Move. Please move. I need to feel you. Whenever you're ready."
He moves.
The first stroke is tentative. A slow withdrawal almost to the tip—my hole clinging to him, fluttering around the drag of his cock—then a gentle push back in that lights up every nerve I didn't know I had. The stretch reignites briefly, then melts into deep, rolling pleasure as his thick shaft slides over my prostate. My hands fist in the sheets. My back arches. The sound I make is unrecognizable, something between his name and a raw moan that echoes in the quiet room.
"Oh my God," he whispers behind me, voice breaking. "Tex, you feel... so tight around me. So hot. So perfect."
"Don't stop. For the love of everything holy, do not stop."
He finds a rhythm. Slow at first—long, careful strokes that let me feel every inch of him sliding in and out of my ass—then building gradually as his confidence grows. He reads my body, listens to every gasp and moan, figures out exactly whatmakes me grip the sheets harder, what makes me push back to meet him, what makes me say his name in that broken, needy way I can't control.
He's quiet at first. Focused. Concentrating the way he concentrates on everything, total and complete. But then the sounds start coming from him too—small at first, caught breaths and quiet moans, then bigger, fuller. He grabs my hips harder, fingers digging into the muscle, and his pace increases slightly, the angle shifts, and he hits that spot again and I nearly come off the bed.
"There," I gasp. "Right there. Don't move. Stay right there. Fuck me just like that."
He stays right there. He drives into me, hitting my prostate over and over, the thick head of his cock dragging against it with every deep thrust. The pleasure builds in a way I've never experienced—not from the outside but from the inside, a deep, spreading heat that starts where he's moving inside me and radiates outward through my entire body, making my cock leak steadily onto the sheets.
"Tex, I can't... it's so..." His voice is coming apart. The composure is gone. He's just feeling what it's like to be inside someone you love and have it be nothing but good. Nothing but wanted.
I reach underneath myself. I'm so hard it hurts, cock throbbing, slick with precum, and the first stroke of my own hand combined with his cock moving deep in my ass is almost too much.
