Chapter 44
Trent
The first live stream since my abduction feels crowded.
It’s not possible to be crowded in a live stream like you would be at a football game, but it physically feels the same.
While Magnus chats with our viewers about nothing in particular and we wait for about fifteen minutes to give everyone the chance to check their notifications, I take a minute to breathe through the anticipated fear that being in front of the camera brings up.
I grab a couple of water bottles and set them on the nightstand, then pull out two different kinds of lube to join what we already have out.
I don’t need all this, and Magnus knows it’s because I’m taking a break from the camera, so he doesn’t comment.
The viewers do, of course, and Magnus answers them with casual grace. “We have a little show planned, and Trent’s just making sure we have options,” he answers whoever asked about what I’m doing, then he smiles up at me. “Can you grab some M I might mention that to my therapist in a few days.
“Just so we’re clear, Magnus and I are not the standard for physical intimacy between friends.
Don’t go around turning your boys on just because I’m allowed to do that to Magnus. ”
Magnus whines softly, twisting his head around so he can pout at me. “Why did you stop?” he demands, playfully incensed.
I slide my hand down to his dick, squeezing it over the fabric and laughing. “A little edging goes a long way.”
Magnus bucks up into my hand. “This isn’t edging. This is torture. Why are you so good at this?” he demands.
I laugh, licking a stripe up his neck and jerking his cock through his shorts. “Haven’t you seen all of my videos?”
Magnus whines, grabbing my hand over his cock and shoving his hips up. “I’m not your dick,” he rasps, trying to get me to give him more friction.
I laugh, releasing him and pushing at his shorts. “If you want my hand, shove your shorts off.”
Magnus nearly kicks the camera in his eagerness to get the shorts off his body. He manages it without a complete disaster and then thumps back on my chest, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand to his gorgeous, hard, leaking, red cock.
I don’t know when I started getting poetic about his penis in my head, but fuck, my mouth is watering for it. Maybe the problem is that I haven’t had any intimate contact with my actual husband in weeks, and that’s fair because of recovery, but it’s not great for my actual well-being.
I palm his shaft and reach for the lube, giving him one stroke before running my hand up his body and back to his nipples. He makes a frustrated noise, which puts a smile on my face I’m sure looks evil. “I’m going to make you come, Magnus,” I promise, voice husky even to my own ears.
“But how long are you going to torture me before you do?” he complains, reaching for his dick and aborting at the last minute to grab onto my pant leg.
“Long enough to entertain our guests.” I make eye contact with the camera and wink.
Magnus lifts his hips, seeking friction where there is none as I pinch his nipples, tugging at the little buds with the goal of overstimulating them.
“Please, please, please,” he begs, tightening his grip on my pants as he squirms into my touch.
I latch back on to his neck, and he immediately submits, baring his neck, pushing into my hands, and stilling. His voice escapes him in a beautiful whimper that reaches into the deepest part of my psyche and makes me want to give him the world.
Magnus slowly relaxes into the stimulation as I continue to play.
I lick and suck on his neck and shoulder, giving myself permission to leave marks on his skin as long as they aren’t where he can’t cover them up.
I growl happily at the sight of his nipples, puffy and vibrant against the red flush of arousal coloring his chest. His cock looks almost purple, and his noises soften to mere whispering whimpers.
Biting his earlobe pulls a groan out of him, and I flick his nipples one last time, caressing the rest of his body as I drag my hands down to his thighs.
Spreading them wide, I guide him to put his feet on the other side of my knees to open him up for the viewing pleasure of our subscribers.
I run my hands up and down his inner thighs, bringing him back from that place where he was completely relaxed to a more immediate need for release.
“Trent!” he exclaims the moment my thumbs brush his tight ballsack.
I look down his body as I caress his sack with my thumbs. “I’ve got you. Just a little while longer. Get the lube, baby,” I instruct him, offering a distraction from the teasing touches.
Magnus slaps the bed, searching for the lube, and finally gets his hands on it as I circle his balls with my hands, massaging them and pulling them away from his body.
I’m sure it’s not comfortable, but if it’s as titillating from the camera angle as it is from mine, I wouldn’t be surprised if at least a few of our viewers come from the sight of it.
“Fuck,” I rasp, when Magnus’s hips jerk up involuntarily.
“Please!” he cries out, holding up the lube. “I need to come!”
I bite his ear again. “Pour it on your cock. Don’t touch it; just give me something to spread around, baby. You got this. Almost there.”
Magnus almost sobs, cracking open the lube and trembling as he pours more than we need all over his cock, balls, and my hand.
“Close it up, baby. Don’t make a mess on my sheets.” I should have put a towel down, but I didn’t plan this.
Magnus follows my instructions and then drops the lube, grabbing his own knees to keep from touching himself.
“Well done, baby,” I praise him, spreading the lube around, covering his cock and balls, slipping my finger down his perineum to his little hole.
Magnus cries out when I touch his bud, hips bucking. “Please!” he begs. “Trent! Please. Fuck! Trent!”
This is fucking heaven.
I grip his shaft in my dominant hand, snaking my off hand under his thigh to massage his bud.
I stroke him root to tip, press on that furled muscle, and watch with my teeth sink into the meat of his shoulder.
Magnus’s volume increases as each second passes, and then he loses his voice completely, his dick pulses in my hand, and cum hits me in the face. Twice.
I stroke him through his orgasm, entranced by the jets of cum painting his chest. I know he hasn’t been holding back, but this is a lot more than I’ve seen on him before.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” The words escape me before I can edit myself for the camera. Shit.