He does. Inches deeper. When he's fully inside, he curls gently—searching—and brushes that spot. Pleasure detonates, sharp, electric, radiating out from deep inside. My back arches and a sound rips out of me.
"There?" he asks, voice thick.
"Yeah… fuck… right there."
He strokes that spot again while his mouth returns to my cock. Lips close around the head, tongue swirling, then sliding down halfway. The dual sensation of his finger curling inside, pressing that swollen bundle of nerves, and his warm, wet mouth sucking me short-circuits every thought. My hips rock instinctively. He takes it, humming around me, the vibration making my balls draw up tight.
He adds a second finger in a slow stretch. I gasp, but it's pleasure-pain, the good kind. He pauses again, his mouth lifting.
"Still okay?"
"More than okay. Feels so good… don't stop."
He works both fingers now, slow, steady thrusts, curling against my prostate on every pass. His mouth takes me deeper. Lips stretched, throat relaxing, sucking in perfect rhythm with his fingers. The pleasure builds fast, layered, overwhelming, deep inside and along my shaft at once. My hands fist the sheets. My breathing fractures into gasps and moans I can't control.
"Tex… close… fuck… I'm gonna—"
He doesn't stop. Fingers press harder, curl deeper; mouth takes me to the root and swallows.
I come so hard that I can't see straight. The orgasm starts deep, originating from the place where his fingers are pressing, radiating outward through my hips and my spine. The loud sound I make fills the room and I don't care because this is mine.
This pleasure is mine.
My cock pulses in his mouth, ass clenching around his fingers, whole body shaking as I spill down his throat. He takes it all. Swallowing, humming, working me through every tremor until I'm oversensitive and boneless.
He withdraws his fingers gently and kisses the inside of my thigh, then crawls up and pulls me against his chest. His arms wrap around me, big, warm. I'm still shaking, aftershocks rolling through me.
"That," I manage when I can speak, "was not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Not that. I've never… nobody ever—"
"I know." He kisses my temple. "You okay, baby? Really okay? You can tell me if something was wrong."
"Yeah. More than okay. That felt… new. Like something just for us. It's just ours."
He exhales, relieved. "Ah…I love that, baby. Because I've never been more focused on anything in my life." His hand strokes my back. "We go at your pace. Tomorrow, if you want, we try a little more. Just the tip. Seriously. Or whatever feels right. No rush."
"I know." I press closer, listening to his heartbeat. "Thank you for making it feel like this."
"Remember, no thanks for sex," he says softly, echoing our old rule. "But you're welcome. Always."
"What about you?" I ask. I can feel his hard cock against my hip. He hasn't been touched.
"Tonight was about you. I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're hard enough to hammer nails."
"That is a vivid and accurate description. I'm still fine. Tonight was about learning you. I liked it. The physical evidence of how much I liked it will resolve itself."
"Or I could help it resolve itself."
"True, you could help it resolve itself. That's also an option. A very good option. An option I would enthusiastically support."
I help resolve it. With my mouth, because my mouth is good at this and because the symmetry feels right. He gave, I give. The circle closes. He comes fast because the last thirty minutes of touching me wound him tight and the spring was ready to release. I swallow and he moans my name the way he always says it as if the word itself is sacred. Afterwards I rest my head on his thigh until his breathing slows and then I crawl up beside him.
"Tomorrow night we keep going?" I say into the dark.
