I slid one hand beneath his thigh and pushed his leg wider.
He looked down at me, pupils blown. “Yeah?”
“Color.”
“Green.”
I kissed the inside of his thigh, then lower. My fingers found him, warm and tight, and circled without entering. His body clenched immediately.
“Breathe,” I murmured.
He tried. Failed. Tried again.
I took his cock back into my mouth while my finger kept circling him. His hips twitched against my hold. The first time I pressed firmer, his hand tightened in my hair.
“Jesus. That feels... I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to know.”
I slicked my finger with spit, returned to him, and traced the rim until his muscles started to give. Not much. Enough.
“Please,” he said, shocked by his own voice.
I lifted my mouth from his cock. “Please what?”
His face flushed. “Don’t make me say it.”
“I need to hear you ask.”
His chest rose and fell hard. “Push in.”
I went still for one breath, giving him a chance to take it back.
He didn’t.
I pressed inside slowly.
His mouth fell open, no sound at first. His body went tense, then confused, then hungry all at once.
“Easy,” I said. “You’re taking it.”
“That’s so fucking weird.”
I laughed low against his hip. “Still green?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
I worked him open with patience I barely had, curling my finger carefully, watching every reaction. When I brushed the spot inside him, his back came off the mattress.
“What the hell is that?”
“There,” I said, rubbing again.
He made a sound I had never heard from him, stunned and desperate. “Do that again.”
I did, and took his cock back into my mouth at the same time.
He came apart fast after that. Not polished. Not controlled. His hand locked in my hair, his thighs shaking around my shoulders while I sucked him deep and rubbed that spot inside him until he couldn’t form words. His orgasm hit with a broken shout, hot and thick on my tongue. I swallowed him down, holding him through every pulse while his body jerked under me.
