18. Dylan #2
Ford’s tongue continued, each lick was a direct current, sending jolts of pleasure through my core.
He took me deeper, his lips a perfect vacuum, pulling and sucking with an intensity that made my knees tremble.
The rough warmth of his tongue against my sensitive skin was almost too much to bear after months of confinement.
I gripped his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
He alternated between slow, deliberate strokes and rapid, teasing flicks, each movement driving me further to the edge.
My vision swam, speckled with bright, bursting lights behind my eyelids.
I could feel the tremor starting in my thighs, spreading through my stomach, a delicious shiver of impending release, a desperate, uncontrolled need for him to swallow.
“Fuck!” I choked out, a wave of pure pleasure crashing over me as I convulsed, a low moan escaping my lips.
I came, hot and fast, emptying my load into his mouth. He took it all, a low, satisfied rumble vibrating against my balls as he swallowed. When he finally pulled away, I glanced down to find him smiling up at me, a dribble of my cum caught in the stubble on his chin.
Silently, he stood, rising to his full height, and pulled me into a fierce kiss. The taste was all too familiar as our tongues met with a passion that left me breathless. Leaving no space between us, his strength pulled me flush against his body. The intensity of the moment was profound.
All barriers were gone now, physical and emotional.
As he held me against his chest, I listened to the steady beat of his heart, and enjoyed the warmth of his skin against mine. I was definitely no longer celibate, but being with Ford was the smartest decision I had made in a long time.
It was impossible not to compare him to those that had come before—ultimately, they had led me here.
Jason, whose tongue cut deeper than he ever admitted, leaving scars that lingered long after our fights.
I used to wonder why love had to hurt so much.
Then there was Aaron, the manipulative charmer.
It took me far too long to realize he was using me for sex.
And my last boyfriend before this summer was Mark, who perpetually made me feel like I was on the outside looking in, convinced that I was never quite enough.
It turned out I wasn’t...because he was cheating on me.
But Ford was so different.
He was a caregiver, and very patient. He listened, truly listened, making me feel valued in a way no one ever had.
His touch was gentle when I needed reassurance, but he also had a quiet strength that made me feel safe.
He challenged me, not with demands or criticism, but with humor and encouragement, making me laugh and feel comfort at the same time.
And he was completely smoking hot. His body moved with effortless power and an innate understanding of exactly how to use his cock to make me scream.
With a surge of renewed desire, I pulled back from his embrace. Without a word, I moved towards the bed and climbed onto it, getting on all fours. I arched my back, presenting myself to him with a little wiggle. Looking over my shoulder, I found his eyes glued to my body.
"I want your cum inside of me," I said, my voice a low, husky whisper that surprised even myself. The words hung in the air, a direct challenge, an undeniable invitation.
Ford glided to the bed, a predatory yet tender grace in his movements, kneeling behind me. His hands settled on my hips, pulling me back against him until I felt his erection slide in between my cheeks.
I moaned, unable to contain my anticipation.
"Are you sure?" he asked. I never knew respect could be so fucking sexy. "Because once I'm in, I'm not pulling out until I fill you up." Or dirty.
“I’m sure,” I answered, sliding forward to tease his cock.
After a quick flip of the cap and a squirt on his shaft, the tip of his cock found my hole. While his thumbs kneaded my ass, spreading me open, he pressed in slowly. A deliberate, agonizingly drawn-out invasion. A sound tore from my throat, half-scream, half-moan, as he buried himself inside me.
Once his body was flush with mine, he held still and I took the moment to adjust to the fullness that was somehow both overwhelming and sensual.
When he began to move, it was like I could feel every inch of him, sliding out then back in.
Slow, rhythmic thrusts that quickened into a powerful, steady pace.
One of his hands moved from my hip to my shoulder, and with that leverage, each fuck came more solid than the last. He drove into me with an unleashed hunger, each stroke perfectly aligning, like we were supposed to fit together like this.
“You love when I’m inside of you, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Who’s hole am I fucking right now?”
“Y-yours.”
“Good boy.”
After he tousled my hair, I arched my back, meeting each of his thrusts, my fingers digging into the blanket.
My cock was hard again, slapping my stomach with each pump from Ford.
The bedsprings cried out beneath us, and I was afraid we were going to have to replace his bed too.
“You have”—Ford’s breath hitched—“no idea”—as he drove into me—“how hot you look”—harder and faster—“when you’re getting fucked. ”
My control frayed more and more every time his body slammed into mine.
"Oh God," I gasped, my voice breaking, "I'm cumming!"
“Again?”
“I’m cumming!” Every muscle in my body clenched as the first volley blasted onto the bed.
“Me too!” Ford practically roared, thrusting deeper than before, and I imagined the pulsing flood of his cum inside me as the rest of mine continued to splatter on the comforter below.
A few seconds later, Ford groaned, collapsing on top of me, smooshing me into the pools of my own release. He seemed to realize he was crushing me, because he slid off to lay beside me, his arm still wrapped around me.
“That was incredible,” I said.
“You take my dick so well.”
“It’s a lot to take.” I looked at him and smiled. “But it’s your hole after all.”
Ford averted his gaze. “I can’t believe I said that.”
I tilted his chin, making him look at me, then said, “It was hot, and it’s the truth. All of this is yours.”
“As is mine,” he replied.
“Including your hole?”
Ford chuckled. “If you want it, you can have it.”
We lay there, entwined, our bodies slick with sweat, while our heartbeats and breaths returned to their regularly scheduled program.
Ford’s attentiveness—the ease with which he could go from dominant to sensitive—was a testament to who he was as a person.
It was what led to us together in this moment—a messy culmination of desire and trust.
I just hoped he saw something as beautiful in me.