36. Wallace #3
“Ohhhhh… baby. Touch me. Please, touch me!” Daddy’s strong hand moved his head, pulling him down on his cock, but without any finesse, just pure need. “Oh, fuck, please, pansy. Need you!”
Wallace nearly choked again, taken by surprise. Not by the rough handling, which he adored, but by the words. Daddy often cursed and commanded, but Wallace had never heard Daddy beg.
It was like Volt had been cracked open, finally allowing himself to let go and accept what Wallace wanted so desperately to give him. To truly use Wallace for his own pleasure.
Wallace had been keeping his hands submissively in his lap, but now he ran them up Daddy’s deliciously muscular thighs, teasing with light touches that made Daddy groan and writhe. He cupped one hand around Daddy’s balls, delighting in their fragile skin and their hefty weight in his palm.
He’d never played there before, and now he wanted to learn every spot and angle that made Daddy howl. He wanted to savor the beauty of Daddy’s raw masculinity and worship this new, gorgeous area of his body.
He would have lowered his mouth there, ready to suckle and see how much he could cram into his mouth. But Daddy’s hips jerked toward him, pressing unknowingly against the back of his throat. “Please, baby,” Daddy moaned. “You feel so good.”
This time Wallace was ready and swallowed Daddy down instead of choking.
Daddy absolutely screamed.
“Please, oh… Yes… Wallace, creampuff…”
Wallace was pretty sure that Daddy didn’t even know what he was saying by now, lost purely in pleasure.
Wallace was floating on it. Daddy was taking no thought of Wallace’s comfort, just using his throat and hands to bring himself off.
“Please, baby, need…” With the next thrust, Volt eased his hips toward the edge of the mattress, his legs falling out to the sides. When he leaned back on the bed, pulling Wallace with him and changing the angle, it still took Wallace a moment to figure out exactly what Daddy was begging for.
Did Daddy want…? Fuck. That had to be it.
Daddy wanted his ass played with… Fucked, maybe? And he was so delirious with ecstasy that he was begging for it.
Wallace’s heart swelled. Because Daddy had always insisted that the only thing he wanted was to bring pleasure to his sub, but he was asking for this now.
Wallace didn’t know if he was actually up for doing the fucking with what he now thought of as his cute, tiny cocklet. It just didn’t seem to be made for that.
But touching his Daddy? Bringing him to ecstasy with his mouth and hands? There was nothing more that he wanted in the world.
He dipped his hand down, teasing at Daddy’s perineum to make sure that this was what Daddy actually wanted. It must have been, because Daddy was rocking and panting, hips rising in need, until he took over with a growl and pushed Wallace’s hand downward.
And there it was. Daddy’s asshole, tiny and furled, but now vulnerably accessible to Wallace’s hand. It seemed impossibly tight, like Wallace’s fingers couldn’t possibly fit inside. Plus, he would definitely need lube. Spit, at least.
Suddenly, Wallace couldn’t stand it another second. He had to see this hidden, needy part that Daddy so desperately wanted him to touch. He needed to worship it properly.
He pulled back with his head, fighting Daddy’s strong hand, until Daddy understood and let go with a disappointed moan. Even without words, he was begging.
Wallace didn’t make him wait long though, licking his way down Daddy’s balls and further still, then pulled back to take in the sight.
Daddy’s thighs and ass were absolutely magnificent. Worthy of poetry. But that small brownish-pink circle, a few shades darker than the rest of Daddy’s skin, drew him like a moth to a flame.
Somehow, when Daddy touched him there, Wallace always felt small and delicate, the one being invaded and filled. Yet there was something masculine and in charge, even about Daddy’s hole, that demanded Wallace’s obedience.
Wallace knew he wouldn’t be perfect at this, since he didn’t have any experience being on this end of things, but surely Daddy would feel the love and reverence. And if he didn’t get it right, he’d just keep going, keep loving on Daddy’s hole until he figured it out.
When he’d looked his fill, he swiped upward with the flat of his tongue, and Daddy nearly leapt off the bed. Wallace held his hips, anchoring him, then did it again. And again.
Instead of fighting him now, Daddy gripped the sheets and whimpered, alternating with rhythmic grunts from deep in his throat.
Was this how Daddy felt when he was touching Wallace, like he’d never been so powerful, while also brought low in awe of the gift he was receiving?
Wallace circled the opening, again and again, then speared the tip of his tongue inside. Daddy’s hand landed on the back of his head again, pushing him closer until his nose was pressed to Daddy’s perineum, the weight of Daddy’s balls heavy over his eyes.
If he couldn’t breathe, he’d die happily smothered in the thick scent of Daddy’s sex.
Helpless to do anything else, Wallace made his tongue stiff and thrust it in further, reveling in the musky flavor of… It took him a moment to figure it out, and then he grinned, despite his mouth being otherwise engaged.
Of course Daddy’s ass was self-lubing, deliciously thick and a little spicy with a completely different flavor than the lube that came out of his fingertips.
The knowledge that it came from a factory and that Daddy had to pop off a panel to periodically refill his reservoirs did nothing to change Wallace’s enjoyment.
Daddy was delectable.
Wallace pushed in deeper, seeking out that flavor and wiggling his tongue. Daddy’s inner walls were hot and silky smooth, sucking him in. Absolutely magnificent.
He pulled back to kiss and nibble around Daddy’s rim, something he loved when Daddy did it to him. Daddy’s fingers tightened in his hair, bringing a new wave of tears to his eyes, and he reveled in it. Especially when Daddy’s thighs closed in around his head, trapping him and muffling the sounds.
“Fuck, baby. Like that.. Need you… Oh, pansy, yes, please, more…”
Every word and moan sounded like music.
Daddy was riding his face. Using him as a fuck toy. Wallace kept spearing and licking with his tongue, even as it started to get tired. And Daddy was still begging him for more.
He squeezed one hand into the tight space, his first finger easily sliding in beside his tongue. Daddy howled, his knees falling open in invitation.
How many fingers did he want? He probably didn’t need to be eased open the way Wallace did, and Wallace’s tongue had to at least be as thick as two.
Wallace added another finger, still tonguing the rim, but now he could—very awkwardly—turn his hand around so his fingers were curled upward. Somewhere there had to be…
Daddy shouted, a wordless roar, when Wallace finally crooked his fingers over the right spot. So Wallace did it again. And again. Until Daddy’s back was flat against the bed, his whole body writhing to the rhythm Wallace created.
Wallace couldn’t keep licking and fingering at the same time, the angles too tight to do either well, but he could add a third finger. Daddy arched his back, pressing upward to receive it, keening when he was finally breached.
It was magical, cataloguing each of Daddy’s reactions. Figuring out what made him scream.
Wallace started moving his whole arm, fucking with his hand, as he learned what Daddy liked.
Hard and fast going in, then fingertips dragging over Daddy’s prostate as he slowly pulled out, only to do it all over again.
Each movement brought a separate, needy moan, and he could hear below it the rising hum of Daddy’s interior fans.
Daddy was absolutely lost now, head thrashing, clenched hands pulling the blanket and sheets off the mattress.
He was breathtaking, an ancient god demanding his due, lost in ecstasy as Wallace served at his feet.
Wallace used his free hand to bring Daddy’s thick cock to his mouth. He encircled the tip, knowing that tonguing Daddy’s slit would drive him absolutely wild.
And it did. Daddy’s hands cradled his head again, but it wasn’t with any direction or purpose, except more and please.
Suddenly, Daddy’s head shot up, his emerald eyes wild as they connected with Wallace’s.
“Baby… Oh, fuck, baby girl. Ohhhhhhhh…” Daddy was babbling, moaning, his words barely distinguishable between groans and whimpers.
“Come, ah… come with Daddy. Touch, oh… pansy… touch your… ahhhhh… your pretty clit.”
Wallace had nearly forgotten his own arousal, but now it hit like a tsunami. He almost didn’t want to touch himself, didn’t want to be distracted from the magnificence of Daddy’s pleasure.
But he also knew how important it was for Daddy to take care of him. How special it was for them to come together, before Daddy blacked out.
With fumbling fingers, he reached into his silky panties to grasp his hard clit. The sensation nearly made his eyes cross, shaking through his body. He was sticky and dripping, so close to the edge that it seemed like the merest feather would send him over.
Barely able to focus, he stroked himself in the same rhythm that he used to dive into Daddy’s clenching hole, synchronizing the joy in their bodies.
When Daddy’s hands landed on his hair again, he took a deep breath and then leaned forward to take Daddy deep. This was the first time that he’d deepthroated on his own instead of waiting for Daddy to force him, and it was amazing in its own way.
Daddy was thrashing and grunting, too absorbed to even direct Wallace’s actions. So Wallace just gave him more. He thrust harder and faster, digging into Daddy’s prostate while his lungs burned.
Vision going dark, he could feel some subtle change, a tightening of each of Daddy’s muscles, and he held on a little longer.
He circled the tip of his own clit once with his thumb, the skin impossibly tender, and that was all he needed to explode.
Fireworks filled the darkness, dazzling him with euphoria.