Chapter 8 Cody #3
I groan, showing him my approval, and push my finger in. He clenches around it and lets out a moan that’s like music to my ears.
He’s tight, squeezing my finger. At this point, I have no idea how he’ll ever take my cock, but it’s clear that he wants to.
What’s also certain is that I’m willing to take my sweet time to get him ready.
There isn’t a doubt in my mind that this will be a good experience for me, but I want it to be great for both of us.
And so I continue, teasing his hole by circling the rim and eventually adding another lube-covered finger inside him.
I tease him until he’s squirming in front of me.
After a while, he looks about ready to blow just from the foreplay.
His breathing is insanely fast, and he’s clinging to the pillow like his life depends on it.
“Fuck, Cody,” he moans into the pillow.
I must say, it’s great to hear him moan my name like that, but there’s something I’d like more. A lot more.
”Not Cody, please. The other name you use for me.”
“Fuck, Daddy.”
“Yes. Thank you, princess.”
I press my fingers deeper into him, and in response, he gasps and moans, pushing his upper body harder onto the bed, buckling beneath his own weight.
He makes a sound as if he’s trying to speak, but fails. Then he swallows and tries again. “I think I’m ready. Do it.”
I don’t have to be told twice—I was ready for this the moment we stepped into my bedroom—and so I grab the condom and put it on. Still, I remind myself to be patient, because despite all the lube I used and all the stretching I did with my fingers, I’m not sure it’ll be enough.
I bring myself forward, guiding my cock up to his hole, and push. I’m met with resistance, which is normal at this stage, so I try a little harder, and my tip slides in.
But then Luc suddenly yelps and launches forward, telling me my initial thoughts were right: this won’t be easy for him.
“Not all at once, fuck!” he shouts at me.
I place my hand on his back. “Breathe, princess. That was just the tip.”
“Just the tip?! Merde.”
His breathing is fast and shallow when he slowly turns to face me. “I . . . I don’t think I can do this. It hurts.”
I’ll admit, I’m big, and he’s so incredibly tight, even after my preliminary work.
Part of me had expected this, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
I’m so hard it hurts, and having his naked body in front of me, to have him looking at me with those trusting eyes, is not helping in the slightest. But it’s as I said before we started: his pleasure is what’s most important.
And so, I swallow all my frustration, ignore my lust, and say, “It’s okay, we can try another time.”
It doesn’t have the effect I anticipated. He throws me a glare. “I don’t want to try another time. How about we switch? I’m smaller, I should be the one doing it. I think I could . . . in you . . . maybe.”
“We could, if that’s what you want. But I personally think that—”
“Never mind, it’s stupid. All of this is stupid.”
I shake my head. “It’s not stupid. Do you know what’s stupid? How quickly I’m falling for you.”
As soon as my words reach his ears, his expression settles, and his lips part. “W-what?”
“You know I don’t care about cake, Luc. Heck, I don’t even like cake.
I kept coming back to that store because of you.
You challenged me and insulted me from day one, and honestly .
. . I’m in the process of falling for you hard.
I’ll wait as long as you need me to. We can try again when you’re ready. ”
He stares at me, blinking slowly. Then, for reasons unknown to me, he places himself flat on the bed, on his back, looking right at me. “No. We try again now.”
“Now?”
“Oui. Put it in now.”
I struggle with the sudden change. Moments ago, I was trying to relax, looking for ways to get rid of my erection, and now . . . he’s asking me to put it in. Straight away.
Not that it should be a problem. I’m still hard as a rock, and all it takes is one glance at his body to be ready.
“Alright.”
He lifts his legs, silently inviting me. Okay, here we go, trying again.
For the second time, I guide my cock to his hole and press against it. Except this time, I pause before taking things further.
“Try not to clench up, okay?” I say to him. “And be sure to breathe, princess.”
He doesn’t say anything, only nods, and he stretches his arms above his head, looking straight at me.
He looks ready. If only I could say the same. The responsibility feels even heavier the second time around. If I mess this up, he may never want anything to do with me again.
The idea causes me to freeze. I swallow hard, a thousand thoughts traveling through my mind.
What if we can’t do it? What if I fail to make this pleasurable for him?
What if I leave him with another bad sexual memory?
I’ll lose the only person I’ve had feelings for in a long time. I don’t know if I can handle that.
But just as my thoughts are about to spin out of control, he puts his hands on the back of my head and says, “Calm down. Breathe with me, okay?”
I wasn’t aware that he recognized my struggle, but he places his forehead against mine and leaves it there, breathing in and out and encouraging me to do the same. After several seconds, I find myself relaxing—until the thing he says next riles me up again, but in an entirely different way.
“Now, don’t you want to fuck me, Daddy?” he asks cheekily.
“Absolutely, I do,” I reply, and I slowly start pressing my cock harder against his hole.
The tip slides in, and I moan as he lets out a whimper.
But he doesn’t move away this time, keeping his legs up and his hands on the back of my head, which I take as signs of encouragement, so I move a little further in.
“Slowly,” he says.
I nod, because that’s precisely what I plan to do. I take my time inserting myself, looking at him to gauge his reactions, and moving slowly. Once I’m all the way in, he’s breathing fast, and pain shows on his face, so I pause, giving him time to adjust.
“Okay,” he says after a minute or so, even though discomfort still shows on his face. “You can move now.”
I nod again and carefully start thrusting. He still looks like he’s in pain, but after a while, I can see when pleasure starts overtaking it. What a sight to see.
I pick up the pace slightly, and before long I can see him letting himself get lost in the rhythm of my thrusts. He moans, his mouth wide open, his legs wrapped around me. Still, I make sure to hold back, but his next words surprise me and cause me to almost blow my load in the condom.
“Go faster, deeper, and don’t come. If you come before me, I will stab you with my cake knife.”
Fuck, I love the mouth on him, bossing me around, threatening me even . . . It’s turning me on in a way I didn’t think possible. This French guy is going to be the death of me, I tell you.
And then, as I fuck him faster, he makes it even worse.
“Yes, fuck me, Daddy.”
“Keep talking like that and you might actually have to stab me.”
“No, don’t come! Just a little longer . . . Ah.”
Then, seemingly without thinking, he reaches for his cock. He starts stroking it using his fingers in the way I’d pictured doing earlier.
Fuck, that image . . . His cock is a little bigger now that it’s hard, but it’s still small, and I’m all here for it, my eyes glued to it. I love, love a small cock, especially on a fit-looking guy like him. I feel like I’m about to blow, and damn, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in.
Then, luckily for me, something sets him over the edge, and he comes, shooting his load out over his stomach.
That, along with him clenching his hole around my cock, is all I can handle.
There’s no stopping it now, and just seconds after him, I reach my own peak, filling the condom to the brim as load after load shoots out of me.
For a moment, it seems like my orgasm will last forever, because whenever I think I’m done, there’s more.
I’ve never come this hard in my life, and I know it’s not just because it’s been a while; it’s mostly him.
If this keeps going, the condom will become useless, I find myself thinking.
I’ll get this French boy pregnant—or at least try.
It’s a strange thought, and it would have made me chuckle if I had any decent grip on reality—if I didn’t feel like I was floating away, carried off by the unending sensations of bliss coursing through me.
But I have Luc beneath me, functioning as my anchor, and after several seconds, the feeling subsides and eventually stops.
When it does, I find myself collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, my cock buried deep inside him.
For a moment, I forgot about everything but myself, but now I’m back and ready to fully focus on him again.
“How was that?”
He nods, breathing too fast to reply. “Très, très bien,” he eventually says.
“So, worth repeating?”
“Absolument.”
“Good,” I reply, smiling wide and savoring the moment a few seconds longer. Then I pull out, remove the condom, and roll off him. To my surprise, when I lie beside him, he turns toward me and puts his arm around me.
Oh, my heart . . .
“I didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.”
“I’m not,” he says sleepily, his eyes closed. “I’ll leave soon.”
“Okay. Then I’ll take what I can get.” I pull his warm body closer to me and start to caress his back.
He groans, drapes his leg over me, and holds me tight.
Before long, despite his statement, I notice that his breathing has slowed and he’s fallen asleep.
Goodness. Not only is he a cuddler, but he’s also a sleep cuddler. Have I won the lottery, or what?