Chapter 31 #2
Illias whined, grinding against the sole of Cantrell’s boot.
“God, please, Father. Wanna taste you so bad, please. Wanna feel you in my throat. Can’t stop thinking about it.
” His breathing deepened. “Can’t stop thinking about you fucking me.
God, I want that so bad. Wanna feel you spread me open on your cock.
Fuck, please Father. I’d make such pretty noises for you. ”
“Such a greedy little pet,” Cantrell mused, dropping his hand to his crotch and palming himself through his slacks as he watched Illias.
“I could watch you like this for hours, grinding against my boot like a mutt in heat.” The sentence drew a high-pitched whine from Illias.
“I bet you could cum like this, couldn’t you, pet?
Think you can cum just from me talking to you as you hump my boot? ” he taunted. “Come on, pup, speak.”
Illias whimpered. “I would for you. I would do anything for you if you asked. But, fuck, please, Father, use me. Please, use me,” his voice was higher than Cantrell expected it to be. “I need you to ruin me.”
“God, you beg so pretty,” Cantrell groaned.
He unfastened his slacks, pulling his aching cock free.
He removed his foot from Illias’ lap and stood.
“Open your mouth pup,” he ordered. Illias opened his mouth and looked up at Cantrell.
“Hoc est corpus meum,” he said in mock sacrament as he slid himself into Illias’ warm, wet mouth.
Illias took every inch until his nose was buried in salt and pepper pubes.
He moaned around Cantrell’s cock, sending a wave of pleasure through him.
Cantrell groaned through clenched teeth.
Knotted his fingers in Illias’ hair and held him in place, terrified of coming too quickly after finally allowing himself to indulge in what he had dreamt of for months.
Cantrell wanted to savor this, draw it out for as long as possible.
The sight of Illias on his knees with his mouth full was picture worthy.
Cantrell’s hips jerked at the thought of a picture like this being somewhere in the album.
Jealousy winding through him when he imagined another man in his place.
“Is there a photo of you like this in your album?” Cantrell asked. Illias’ eyes flashed up to Cantrell’s face. “There is, isn’t there?” He drew his hips back until the tip of his cock rested on Illias’ lips.
“Yes, Sir,” Illias answered, voice rough. He wrapped a hand around Cantrell, stroking him slowly. “But if you’d like, you can replace it.”
“Fuck,” Cantrell groaned, thrusting into Illias’ fist. “I’ll replace every fucking photo in there of you with another man,” he promised.
“Nobody gets to have you like this except for me.” He guided Illias’ head forward.
Illias parted his lips, maintaining eye contact as he took Cantrell’s cock back into his mouth.
“Now, show me how much you worship me and take your fucking sacrament,” Cantrell rasped out, shoving Illias’ head down and causing him to gag.
Cantrell held Illias in place, using his mouth for pleasure.
No longer worried about how quickly he came, but focused on the sight at his feet.
Illias teary-eyed with saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin.
Staying perfectly still while Cantrell fucked his pretty mouth. The epitome of corrupt beauty.
With the end approaching rapidly after years of celibacy, Cantrell let out a near-inaudible fucking Christ and pulled out of Illias’ mouth. Illias sucked in a deep breath then coughed.
“I thought you were going to give me my sacrament,” he taunted, voice hoarse from the rough treatment.
“I am,” Cantrell grunted, wrapping a hand around himself. “Stick out your tongue.”
Illias complied, the edges of his mouth quirking up. Cantrell swore beneath his breath, hips jerking sporadically. “Fuck,” he gritted out, orgasm rushing forward. White hot and blinding.
Strings of cum landed across Illias’ tongue and face, though Cantrell’s hand caught most of it.
Illias, without being told, took Cantrell’s hand and brought it closer.
Cantrell could only look on, enraptured as Illias licked the seed off his hand like a starving man.
“Thank you, Father,” Illias murmured, then kissed Cantrell’s knuckles.
“Good boy,” Cantrell praised. “How are you feeling?” He gently removed his hand and tucked himself away.
“Like I need more.” Illias' pupils were still blown with arousal.
“How do you ask?” Cantrell asked, on the verge of giving Illias whatever he asked for.
“Will you touch me, Father? Please?” Illias shifted forward, straddling Cantrell’s foot. “I’ve been such a good boy. Please, fill me. Please, Father, I want you inside me so fucking bad.”
“God, look at you,” Cantrell breathed, watching Illias grind against his boot. “Begging while you hump my boot. Such a good little pup.”
Illias whined. “Please, I wanna cum on your fingers so bad.”
“Is there lube in your bedroom?” Cantrell knew there had to be, but it was easier to ask than to waste time searching for it.
“Nightstand drawer,” he replied, an eager look in his eyes.
“Strip and bend over the couch for me, pet. I’ll be right back.”