Chapter 30 #2
He dropped his thick and leaking cock onto my pillow with a groan, then turned his head to the side and smiled at me.
He still had the bottle in his hand, ready to go.
I squirted some lube onto my fingers and teased them over his hole.
Getting one into him was easy, two didn’t even take that much work.
I told him to open the bottle before I even tried a third, and his body relaxed around my knuckles within seconds.
“Oh. Oh.”
“Are you good?” I asked, petting my other hand down the small of his back.
Smith humped the pillow, fucked himself onto my hand. “I am so good.”
“Let’s stay here a bit,” I said, even though it wasn’t up for debate.
Smith did not have a ton of experience with putting things inside of his body, but he’d done so well with that inflatable plug, I had high hopes for his ability to take my hand.
And that didn’t come from a selfish place at all.
Smith was out of sorts, and he needed to be pushed far enough that he had no choice other than to get out of his head for a while.
I stretched Smith open with three fingers for what felt like an hour. I brought him close to the edge without ever letting him get over, encouraging him to take a sniff whenever he started thinking too hard. On one of those inhales, I teased my pinky finger along his rim, and his entire body shook.
“Come on, baby. Open up and let me in. Reach back and spread yourself open for me.”
Smith moaned, eyes rolling back, but he relaxed so perfectly around my knuckles it barely took any more force to get all four of my fingers inside of him.
He rubbed his face against the sheets and reached back to grab his ass, spreading himself apart for me.
My fingers were pressed tight together in the necessary cone shape as I teased and pushed my way into him.
“So much,” he muttered, pulling some of the fitted sheet into his mouth and biting down.
“No.” I pulled the wet cotton out of his mouth and pressed my fingers against his lips. “Relax and take it, alright?”
He sighed and nodded, going limp against the bed.
Four fingers were considerably harder to fuck him with, so I added more lube and coaxed him up again onto all fours.
The shift tightened some things, loosened others, and Smith’s cock left a messy trail of precum between his stomach and the pillow.
A sweat broke out along Smith’s spine, and he rutted his hips like he was trying to fuck the air.
“I feel so fucking good right now, Riggs.”
Fuck, I loved the way he slurred my name like he was drunk with pleasure.
“So fucking good. Could come like this.”
“Not yet.”
I tucked my thumb alongside my fingers and pushed gently against his rim. He was so fucking tight, so slick and slippery with lube, and he was so fucking horny for me.
“I’m going to get my whole hand into you, baby.” That was a promise. “I’m going to fuck you with my fist and I’m going to jerk you off until you come. Yeah?”
“Please,” he whimpered, nodding vigorously into the bed.
I lubed up the rest of my hand and my wrist, smeared some extra around my left hand, then reached around and took Smith in hand.
He cried out at the touch, muscles going tight around my knuckles.
I changed the motion of my wrist to a scoop instead of a thrust, focusing more on the act of stretching him out than getting deep into him.
“Easy,” I coaxed, gritting my teeth. “Take a breath, okay? Take a breath. Take a…”
Smith took an actual breath of air, then moaned long and low. He still had his ass spread for me, knuckles white and skin pink. He was covered in sweat and lube, and he was so close to taking me up to the wrist. Smith had been so hungry for it, so patient, so pliant.
So perfect.
I covered one of his hands with mine to keep him spread, slowing my stretching down.
“Get the bottle,” I told him, relishing how loose he’d gotten for me. “Big one this time, baby. One side and then the other, alright?”
“Alright.” Smith nodded and fidgeted the bottle open with one hand. He let go of his ass to plug his nose and lift the bottle. “You’ll tell me when?”
“Of course.”
Smith shoved the bottle under his nose and waited until I told him to breathe.
“One, two, three, four. There you go. Now the other. One, two, three…” I trailed off, leaving the four unspoken as Smith breathed through it anyway. He buried his forehead against the wet pillows with a rumbling groan of arousal.
Ten seconds later, he went absolutely pliant and my hand slid right into him.
“Oh, fuck.” He panted, desperate and frantic. “Oh, fuck. Oh!”
“You’re still safe,” I promised. “I’m still here. It’s still us.”
“I know, I know.” Smith whimpered. “It just. Oh, God. You. You’re…”
“I’m here,” I promised him again, testing my ability to get my hand out of him. It took a little work, but it wasn’t long before I had my first in and out of him with enough ease his cock had gotten hard again.
“I want to come, but I feel so good,” he whispered, dragging his face across the spit-soaked sheets. He was so far gone, he was exactly where I wanted him to be and I needed to get my hand out of him before he shot his load.
“We can do it anytime you want, baby. But right now, I need you to take one last hit off that bottle and then come for me, alright?”
Smith took another breath and twisted the cap on, shoving the bottle out of reach. I stroked him faster, feeling his heart beat against my palm when I gripped him tighter.
“Coming,” he managed to choke out.
It was barely enough warning to pull the thickest part of my hand out of his ass before he clamped down hard around my fingers and spilled ribbons of cum across the bed.
He cried out, loud, and he thrashed violently, the relief of his release palpable.
I yanked Smith up and back onto my lap, his cock still shooting cum like fireworks onto his chest and onto my hand.
I didn’t stop touching him until he asked me to, and even then, I kissed the top of his head and turned him in my lap so I could get my arms around him.
“I love you,” I promised into his sweaty and matted hair. “I’ll do right by you, Smith. In every way.”
He nodded, swallowing hard.
“This is serious, isn’t it?” he asked.
I tightened my arms around him, wondering what our future could look like.
What it should look like. Smith had a whole career of his own, a gorgeous condo in Larchmont.
He had his brothers, his friends. He had a whole life, and it was so separate from mine.
I wanted us to come together, not just in the bedroom, but I wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap.
“Very,” I told him. Just because I didn’t know what happened next didn’t mean Smith didn’t deserve the truth from me. “Are you tired now? How do you feel?”
“I’ve never felt better.”
He untangled himself from my arms, working his shoulders back and forth, cracking his neck.
“Are you staying the night?” I asked.
“If that’s okay.”
“More than.” I helped Smith to his feet, walked him to the living room and sat him down on the couch—on top of a blanket—then I passed him the remote. “I have to change the sheets, wash my hands. Are you okay here for a few?”
“Riggs.” He reached for me, grabbing my wrist so I turned to look at him. “I’m so much more than okay.”
He smiled, kissed my wrist the same way I often kissed his. “Thank you.”