He does it again, firmer this time, circling my rim before pressing the flat of his tongue against me. The sensation is overwhelming. He keeps licking me slowly, thoroughly, until I’m pushing back against his face, chasing more.
Only then does he pull back slightly and slide one slick finger inside me. He works it in deep, curling gently, while his tongue returns to my rim, licking around his finger as he opens me up.
“You’re so tight,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna open you up nice and slow. That’s it, Lance, relax for me.”
Relax? In this intense pleasure? Might as well ask a man on fire to sit in a lotus position, look zen and all that shit. I’m shaking, feral moaning sounds bouncing off the metal walls of the shop. He adds a second finger, scissoring them while his tongue continues its leisurely, dirty work.
“Been fantasizing about this hole for a long time, you have no idea,” he sighs against my skin, voice low and rough. “So fucking pretty.”
He keeps going like that for a while—fingers stretching me, tongue licking and teasing—until I’m loose, wet, and desperate, hips rolling shamelessly against his mouth and hand.
When he finally pulls back, his lips are shiny and swollen.
“How big is your biggest dildo compared to me?” he asks, heat heavy in his words.
“A bit smaller,” I blurt, breathless. “Shorter by an inch, I think? The alien dildo that I haven’t used yet might be closer, not thatI’m saying you’ve got an alien dick, but I can’t fucking know for sure because I haven’t tried both yet—”
“We’re gonna take care of that right now. That means this pretty hole’s gonna feel every thick inch of my cock stretching it wide.”
He stands, rolls a condom on, and slicks himself generously. He then lines up the fat, blunt head of his cock against my entrance.
“Ready?”
I nod frantically, gripping the bench. Ready? For what, exactly? Getting split in half by my best friend’s monster dick? Sure. Why the fuck not.
He pushes in slow.
Holy fucking shit.
The stretch burns, his cock massive—thicker than any toy I’ve ever taken. My eyes fly wide open.
“G—fuck, hold up,” I hiss, wincing as my body locks up. “That’s a bit too much, that’s a lot too much, Jesus Christ on a bicycle—”
He freezes instantly, hands gentle on my thighs.
“Okay. Breathe, baby.” He pulls out completely, rubbing the thick head against my hole in slow, teasing circles. “We’ll go slower. Relax those muscles for me. That’s my good boy.”
I let out a broken laugh that sounds suspiciously like a sob. “I’m trying, but my ass didn’t know we’re upgrading from silicone to industrial-grade cock tonight—”
George’s low chuckle vibrates against me. “You’re doing so good already.”
I groan, embarrassed but ridiculously turned on. Of course, he’s sweet while trying to rearrange my organs.
He coats his fingers again and works two back inside me, spreading them until the resistance softens. He takes his sweet fucking time, watching with complete focus while I stare at the ceiling trying to remember how breathing works.
When he finally pulls out and lines up his cock again, the fat head pops past my rim and I cry out. Pain and pleasure slam into me at the same time, white-hot and overwhelming. My brain does a hard reboot.
“Easy,” he soothes, stilling his hips. “It’s just the tip.”
Fuck me. “Buddy, that feels like you’re trying to park a fucking truck.”
Inch by inch he sinks deeper, pausing every time I tense, murmuring praise against my skin. “Look how you’re opening up. You’re taking it so well.”
I breathe out when the pressure finally levels off. “I’m good. That’s all of it.”
George looks down at me, dark eyes soft with humor. “Lance,” he says, patient as hell. “That’s only half of it.”
I blink. Once. Twice.
