Chapter 31 We Cum in Pieces
We Cum in Pieces
One thing porn doesn’t tell you about pegging is the amount of work involved.
Fancy editing tricks cut out the parts where you have to carefully unwrap all of your materials, lay down a towel on your bed (just in case!), clean your new toys, finagle the twisty straps of the harness, and affix your dildo to it.
The other thing they didn’t tell you was how much fun those things could be.
How you could joke with your partner while you stood side-by-side at the sink, comparing his dick size to your new dildo like two guys at a urinal.
How every accidental brush of your skin would set your body on fire with anticipation.
How every casual look was seared with I’m going to fuck you implications.
Eventually, Hudson and I found ourselves standing on opposite sides of the bed, staring at each other like two virgins on their wedding night.
He, of course, had the dignity of being naked and hard-cocked and unbelievably handsome.
I had the unique distinction of wearing a strapped-on dildo, a red lace bra, and nothing else.
I also carried a small remote. Hudson, the brilliant man that he was, had opted for a strap-on harness with a built-in tonguing toy for me.
The clit-licker fit snugly against my already swollen nub, ready for action as soon as I pressed go.
I held off for now, knowing it wouldn’t take me long to reach my peak—not with how turned on I already was.
The air crackled with sexual tension. Still, neither of us moved. The bed loomed between us, beckoning.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before.”
“Me either.”
He chuckled and ducked his head. “Right. Obviously. Um—”
Given that we had equal experience, there wasn’t any initial indication of who should be in charge here. But Hudson’s blushing and stammering, so unlike him, clued me in to what he really wanted—whether he actively knew it or not.
I crawled on the bed and patted the empty space beside me.
“Why don’t you let me lead?”
“I’d love that. Thank you.”
Goose bumps. I always got them when Hudson said love lately. I told myself it was just my wonky air-conditioning playing tricks on me.
He situated himself beside me in bed, turned on our sides so we could look at each other. My fingers drifted idly across his body, awakening his hard nipples and his own goose bumps.
“Why do you want this, Hudson?” I asked.
Another chuckle. “I think it’ll feel good.”
“Yeah, but in what way? Do you want to be used, do you want to be fucked, made love to—”
“I want to be taken care of.”
Beyond sex, that one sentence wedged in my heart and refused to let go. Hudson took care of so many people—myself included. He deserved the same treatment. Someone who cared about him, his pleasure, his wants above everything else, even if just for an hour or two.
Perfect. That tiny piece of information unlocked the whole thing.
He may not have known the words, but he wanted what I’d sometimes seen on the internet and in the BuzzCorp fuck reports called “soft domming.” Unlike a regular Dom, who usually was characterized by discipline and consequences, a soft Dom was more about praise and care.
Not imposing pleasure on you because you’re a bad boy who needs to be taught a lesson, but coaxing you into it because you’re so good and you need your caring Dom to help you feel good.
Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never seen myself taking the reins—er, chains and whips—in a BDSM relationship. But whispering sweet nothings in Hudson’s ears while he took my cock so well?
My pussy clenched at the mere thought.
“I can do that for you. You just need to relax.”
“Relax,” he repeated, closing his eyes.
He was coiled up tight. Anticipation or nerves, I couldn’t tell. But this was never going to work if he didn’t unwind.
“I can’t help you if you don’t relax,” I murmured. “Don’t you want to feel good?”
My fingers brushed over his nipples. He shivered. His cock jumped.
“Yeah.”
“Then do what I say, and I’m going to make you feel really, really good.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ma’am. I liked the sound of that. The toy against my clit practically screamed to be turned on, but I refrained. Hudson needed me more than I needed to cum right now.
“I know first times can be scary. Believe me, I know. But opening up can often be the most rewarding thing we do.”
His lips twitched, eyes still closed. “I could tell you the same thing.”
“I’m not into anal. But I’ll keep that in mind.”
We both chuckled, knowing that neither of us was talking about back-door sex anymore. Tipping his chin up, I gave him his first command.
“Come here. Kiss me.”
Slowly, our bodies moved together and our lips touched.
For the first time, he kissed me like a question.
Soft and uncertain. I took his cheek in my hand, deepening it, exploring every inch of his mouth.
My chest pressed against his, my nipples pebbled against his smooth skin.
My own pussy felt empty without him, which only deepened my desire.
“You’re an excellent kisser, you know,” I breathed.
“Thank you.”
My hands traveled down his chest, toward his cock. It glistened with pre-cum. “We’re going to take this nice and slow, okay? Just enjoy the sensations.”
Fingertips first. Up and down his shaft. Feather-light, barely touching him. He twitched beneath me, hips bucking, desperate for more contact. When I felt like he might explode from the lack of pressure, I maneuvered down and licked the wet head, tasting the salty brine of him on my tongue.
He touched my scalp, not pushing me toward his cock, but pleading with me to take it.
How could I refuse?
I inched his length between my lips, wetting him until he hit the back of my throat. Then I withdrew, teeth dripping with his pre-cum.
“That’s a good boy.”
The whimper that escaped his mouth was equal parts arousing and pitiful. I may not have been a good girl kind of girl, but he was most certainly a good boy kind of boy.
“Don’t worry. I’ll go back to it. Just one second.”
His gaze never left me as I lubed up my fingers. I tried to give him the same I’m going to make you cum so hard energy that he’d given me so many times; I knew how painfully it heightened the anticipation.
Once satisfied with my lubrication, I returned to his cock and brought my fingers between his legs. As I took him in my mouth again, I pressed them against his entrance, waiting for the pleasure of the blowjob to hit and relax his muscles.
Soon, he opened for me, parting so I could work my fingers inside him—first to the knuckle, then to the hilt.
He whimpered. Pre-cum slicked the back of my throat. My clit begged for attention.
I remained inside him for a few moments, relishing the tightness around my fingers as I worked my mouth around him. His hips bucked—first deeper into my mouth, then back again for my fingers.
He cried out when I lifted my head long enough to breathe, “You take my fingers so well.”
“Thank you. But…”
“But what?” I asked innocently. “Tell me what you need. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
If he hadn’t already been a panting, sweaty, cum-starved mess, he would have seen the irony in that statement. After all, just a few weeks ago, he’d said that very same thing to me.
From under my hooded eyelashes, I watched him swallow hard. The shyness was still there, but it mingled with desire, a heady combination that went straight to my cunt. “I want you to make love to me.”
Love. Even clouded by pre-orgasmic fog, that word hit deep inside me, clanging around uncomfortably.
Making love—what did it even mean? Was it an intention? A level of care? Could you rail someone and make love to them? Or was it all soft lighting and gentle, Viagra-commercial smoothness?
I didn’t know. But I would find out.
“It would be my pleasure. And you’ve earned it.”
Withdrawing from him—much to his chagrin; he mewled like I often did when he pulled out of me—I cleaned my hands on a nearby towel. Then I shifted him to his side, so we were spooning.
The strap-on dildo fit perfectly between his ass cheeks. Whether he knew it or not, his back arched against it.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” I breathed into his ear as I lubed the dildo between us. “There’s no rush. I’m going to enjoy stretching you around my cock. Relax.”
It was quite the role reversal, positioning my cock at Hudson’s entrance. Grabbing his hips and lining him up with me. Hearing his every pant and groan, watching him turn into a puddle of lust and want beneath my hands.
When he took my virginity, was this what he felt like? The power, the trust, the rush of accomplishment when I reacted to his touch with such yearning and want?
I didn’t know. All I knew was that when I slid my length inside him for the first time and turned the toy on my clit to its lowest setting, I never wanted to stop.
“Are you all right?” I asked, once I’d bottomed out in him.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured.
Running my fingers through his hair comfortingly, I gave more instructions.
A great feat considering that I could barely get the words out.
The toy did its best work on my desperate clit.
“You can touch yourself if you’d like. But don’t cum.
The only one making you cum tonight is me, isn’t that right? ”
He nodded, then gripped his cock firmly. Coherency wasn’t his strong suit at the moment. The pleasure was too great.
And I knew the feeling. With every meeting of our hips, the toy on my clit tongued harder, rattling me with a fresh wave of delight. I was getting higher and higher, overwhelmed by the combination of my own oncoming orgasm and his melting pleasure.
Still spooning him from behind, I worked to find a rhythm. He arced against me, matching me thrust for thrust.
Soon, I could tell my climax was just a few breaths away. My body tightened.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Answer me.”
“Yes. Yes, it feels so good. You fuck me so good.”
And that was all I needed. The toy played long and hard on my clit. I pressed fully into him, deepening our contact and the toy’s pressure against me. And I dug my fingers into his flesh, trying to hold on to reality even as my orgasm smashed me through waves of white-hot ecstasy.
I screamed out his name. It was the only thought in my mind. Hudson, Hudson, Hudson…
And when it was over, I slowed my erratic thrusts and turned off the toy, once again focusing on him.
“I came so hard inside you, you know that? You made me cum like that. Seeing you so ready for me, taking me like this, you’ll never understand how sexy it is, Hudson.”
He was a mess, stroking his cock and teetering on the brink of what might have been the biggest orgasm of his life. “I’ve never—”
“I know, baby. I know. Just feel me. My hands on your hips. My cock bottoming out in you, pushing you farther, and farther—”
“Oh fuck, Scout. Fuck, I’m going to…I’m going to…”
“Cum for me.”
Like the good boy that he was, he obeyed. A roar exploded from the depths of him, and he bounced on my cock, determined to make it last as long as possible. Streams of cum erupted from him, streaming across the bed—evidence of just how hard he’d climaxed.
And then, it was over. We collapsed in a sweaty, spent pile of bones and sex toys and slick and cum. Not the prettiest picture, but I didn’t care. To me, it was the entire world.
The air around us settled. The world stopped shaking.
Our bodies stilled. It was a strange role reversal, to be the one who took care of him after sex.
Who breathed against his neck and stroked his tender skin.
Who wrapped my arms around him and cradled him back to earth after shooting him up past the stratosphere.
I held him like I’d never held anyone before, like he was precious to me.
And he was. He really was.