“I’m going to take you like this,” I said and slipped a finger along your cleft. “With your back on the table and your legs in the air like a piece of meat that’s been tenderized and strung up.”
“I just ate,” you warned.
“I’ll take my chances.”
You nodded and licked your lips, already getting that desperate way about you, when your eyes had trouble focusing, and you couldn’t stop touching yourself. Your thighs trembled and your calf muscle tightened against my shoulder. I circled your hole with two oiled fingers then plunged inside with both of them at once. Your abdominals curled inward as that sweet muscle cinched around my knuckles.
“Ohhh,” you moaned softly as your eyes closed and your lips puckered.
“Still so very tight,” I remarked, and you glanced up at me bashfully. “Have you been practicing?”
“Yes.” You swallowed and gave me a nod, so I pulled my fingers out of you and asked you to demonstrate. Tentatively you drew your knees back toward your ears, folding nearly in half while your fingers crawled to your entrance. You used one hand to lift your testicles while the other dug in, fingers seeking passage into your tight channel.
“That’s good.” I stroked my erection as your puckered hole throbbed against your digits. It pulsed outward before retreating inward again like a shy flower. You really had no idea the rousing effect you had on me.
“I’m going to make love to you, Orlando, and then I’m going to cut you, but only a little bit.”
“Okay.” Your face had reddened from the contortion and the effort of preparing yourself for me, so much blood rushing through your veins and blushing your skin. My glans beaded with moisture as I watched you work. Your brow drew together in concentration and your teeth bit into the fleshy part of your lower lip. It flushed a deep scarlet hue. Despite my full stomach, I was so very hungry.
“Are you ready for me?” I asked, unable to temper my lust much longer. You nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you rasped and spread your cheeks wide to make an offering of yourself. I took one of your knees over my shoulder again and dragged you all the way to the edge of the table, so that my angle was most advantageous. I pushed back your fleshy mounds of muscle, relieving you of the duty, and aimed for your opening.
“Breathe,” I said and before you’d finished exhaling, I drove in.
“Henri,” you gasped in a sweet, indignant voice that reminded me of our first time. I could be tender with you, and I could be rough, and you took the whole of the spectrum I delivered, at times teasing and playful but always obedient.
“Are you in pain?” I only wanted to hurt you a little.
“No, just…” Your head lolled from side to side. “Burns.”
I rolled you with my hips, just once, so I could position you properly. While you stretched to accommodate my size, I squeezed your shaft with my free hand, watching the precum bead up on your tip. You had such a pretty phallus. It pointed up and away from your pelvis like the prow of a ship. Your smooth, cut crown was elegant and beautifully formed, just like the rest of you. I gripped you tightly but was careful not to stimulate you too much, or you might come right there in my hand.
Your tight ring of muscle relaxed at last, and I began to pump my hips just a bit. You squirmed a little on the table with your eyes squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” I demanded gently.
Your eyes snapped open and you stared at me as I began thrusting in earnest. Your face took on a glazed expression as your body relaxed around me. Your mouth was partway open as you watched me work. Our lovemaking was putting you in a trance. You were my meal on the table.
“How… ahhh… how can anything feel this good?” Your abdominal muscles flexed as you curled your body tighter, allowing me to go deeper and stroke your prostate. “I’d swear you’re seducing me.”
I chuckled. “I don’t need to seduce you, Orlando.”
You grinned and laid one hand against my chest. Your thumb stimulated my nipple. I instructed you to hook both your knees over my shoulders then leaned in until you were bent entirely in half. What a lovely angle for massaging you. My shaft drove so far in, I felt your body tense and quake with every execution. You whimpered and you moaned, the tempo of your voice echoing my rhythm like a musical canon. Your arms reached around my neck as you clung to me in desperation. I kissed your forehead, then your mouth, plunging into the depths only to resurface and have you grind out your pleasure. I wished to overwhelm you with sensation so that your only thoughts were of the current pulsing from your prostate, the aching in your genitals, and that sweet yearning for release that revealed itself in your gentle, beseeching whimpers. Your response was what excited me the most. Your pleasure meant everything to me.
“Yes, Henri. Yesss. Pleeeease.”
I manhandled your muscular legs so that I could snap my hips at an unrelenting pace and spear you from within. Your cries escalated until you were shouting my name.
“Come for me, darling. No hands this time. Just like this.”
You glanced down as if doubting your biology. I rolled my hips and you scratched at my back with your blunt nails because I wouldn’t let you touch yourself. Your eyebrows drew together in a deep scowl that I thought was your obstinance but was only a reflection of your focus and determination. And then just when I thought you might need my help, you arched back and ejaculated on your chest in a beautiful gushing display and a long, drawn-out “Ohhhhh…”
Your muscle around my shaft throbbed, sucking me in deeper and I emptied myself into you in a glorious groundswell of pleasure. My groan stretched from my diaphragm to my lips and echoed across the quiet room with only your breathless panting to accompany it. Pure bliss.
With my sexual urges satiated, my bloodlust grew fiercer. All I could smell was your semen and sweat. And of course, your blood, in the soft tissues inside your mouth, the air you expelled, and your genitals where the skin was so very soft and delicate. If I wasn’t so concerned about scaring you, I’d put a small incision in your glans and suck the blood like I was performing fellatio. Perhaps I could save that trick for another time.
The cut from our first experiment with shaving had healed with hardly a mark, so I used the tip of Xavier’s sharpened Japanese steel to reopen it. You hissed and spread your leg wider, offering your lifeblood to me. I buried my face into the crevice of your hot, sticky groin and sucked until my mouth flooded with your thick, warm heme. My taste buds exploded from the rich, tannic flavor. As sweet and cleansing as warm, summer rain. I sucked it down eagerly, ravenous for more, until you moaned, and I realized I’d been down there too long. I surfaced to find you still suspended in a post-coital stupor.
