“It’s okay, dirty boy.” His expression is wry but his tone is uncharacteristically free of mockery.
BeforeI can manage to pull any cohesive thoughts together the attempt is thwarted by Jazz taking my ball sac in handand providing a live demonstration of some of the amazing capabilities he was bragging about moments ago.
The pleasure he’s able to wring from my body as he tugs and strokes and squeezes with what is undoubtedly a well-practiced hand is fucking electrifying. My entire body feels supercharged and I can tell I’m going to go into overload any second.
Fuck,I think I might actually die if he pulls me up short again. I’ll just shrivel up into a husk; or maybe my dick will explode…
“Please,”I groan, tossing my head back helplessly. “Please. So close—need to come. Let me come…don’t want to die.”
Jazz lets out a huff of amusement. “You’re not going to die, you little slut.”
“My dick will explode,” I ramble.
“That’s kind of the point,” he says wryly.
Any concerns of a blue balls related death are wiped from my mind—along with pretty much everything else in there—as Jazz gives my balls a firm squeeze, prompting a strangled groan to fall from my lips.
“Fuck. Fuck, please…Please. Fuck…”At this point I can’t even remember what I’m begging for, I just know I need it more than I’ve needed anythingever.
He squeezes my balls again, and then I feel that mind-numbing pressure at the entrance to my hole. But this time it doesn’t stop; blackness clouds my vision and my lungs stop working as the pressure snaps into a momentary burst of sharp pain. ThenI feel Jazz’s finger thrusting inside me and it’s enough to make me explode.
My head falls back and I let out a guttural groan as my climax rips through me, more intense and overwhelming than I’ve ever experienced before. Ribbons of cum spray over my chest for what feels like hours, and by the time I’m finally spent I feelabout as solid as Jello, and roughly as capable of regular human function.
“Yeah, you might need a minute,” Jazz says with an indulgent smile, reaching out to pet my hair.
Mmm…that feels nice. I nuzzle into the touch and he obliges with more petting. “I have no bones.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “You actually have two-hundred and six bones. I think you might be experiencing a slight orgasm-induced high.”
I shake my head. “Not high. Jello. Green Jello. And pudding. And custard…”
He arches a brow at me. “Why are you listing desserts?”
“They don’t have bones.”
“Ah, I thought you were throwing out ideas for things you want to roll around naked in,” he says with a smirk.
I smile lazily at the suggestion. “Yeah…messy.”
“Okay,dirty boy, I think it’s time to sit up now,” he says with a snort of amusement as he grabs my bicep and tries to coax me up. “Get that circulation happening.”
“But I’m naked,” I argue, resisting his grip. “And covered in cum.”
He arches a brow at me. “And that’s a problem for you all of a sudden?” He lets out a wry huff, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, dirty boy—I already captured this moment for posterity.” He tugs his phone from his jeans pocket and swipes across the screen a few times before showing it to me. “I think I’ll call this “Whore in Rhapsody”.”
Of course, he managed to get the money shot, and “rhapsody” is sure as hell the right word for it. Jesus, no wonder it feels like I’m made of insubstantial goo; I look like I’m beingtransported.Hmm…maybe Iama little high.
I letout a sigh of resignation and gesture for Jazz to put his phone away. “Fine, I can sit up. But I still want to be a cat,” I say firmly. “I like being a cat.”
His brows creep up slightly but he just shrugs. “Okay…you can be a cat…”
This time I let him pull me up, my head lolling a little as I’m hit with a sudden wave of light-headedness. A concerned expression crosses Jazz’s face and he reaches out to brace my head. I nuzzle against his hand again, sighing contentedly.
“Ah…cat,” he murmurs. For some reason there’s a note of realization in his voice but I don’t spend any brain power on it; I’m too busy basking in the incredible sensation of being petted and scritched. It’s not a turn on—not even remotely close to one—it just feels sonice.
“Jesus, are you actuallypurring?”Jazz asks with a hearty laugh.
“You canshame me later,” I chide, bumping my head against his palm to encourage more petting. “I’m being a cat now.”
