Page 172 of Bad for Me

He plays with me, tortures me, with the pulsing water and his tongue, bringing me to the edge until I'm panting with my head resting against the tile. Finally, he takes my cock deep in his throat, inserting a single finger into my greedy ass. I buck into his mouth, growling with the effort of holding my climax back. My balls ache with the need for release.

"Let's see how many fingers you can take, and we'll see if you're ready."

Those words alone are almost enough to set me off. I hear the cap of the lube bottle before his fingers and mouth are on me again, and my mouth falls open, eyes heavy and hooded, my expression teetering on the edge of pain. The pitiful look in my eyes encourages him, and he presses two long fingers all the way inside me, brushing past my prostate and making me squirm. Two fingers feel good, the pressure making my balls throb. The third finger makes me hiss in a breath, but I bear down the way he taught me, and my muscles relax.

"Yes, Daddy, just like that." His voice is coated with unmistakable lust. I can hear it in the strain of his words and the shudder of his breaths, even if I couldn't see the evidence right in front of me. His cock juts from between his legs, twitching like it's straining to get closer to me, leaking to be inside me.

Ian strokes and scissors his fingers, stretching me until I can't control the way I press my ass against them.

"Fuck yourself on my fingers, Henry. Fill my mouth with your cum and then I'll fill your ass with my cock."

Fuck.

I do exactly as he asks, shuddering with every stroke of his thick fingers inside me, and fill his mouth with stream after stream of my release. I'm panting and near dizzy by the time I'm spent, leaning against the wall for support while Ian kisses his way up my hips. I reach for him, wanting to taste my cum on his tongue, but he doesn't let me. He turns off the shower and smacks my rear, telling me to get my sexy ass on the bed. I barely bother drying off, leaving my towel on the floor in an uncharacteristic display of impatience. Despite having just had the most delicious orgasm, I'm half hard just thinking about having Ian inside me. And there's a part of me that's worried he'll change his mind.

Ian hands me the lube.

"Get yourself good and wet for me, Daddy." He slowly strokes his dick from the doorway of the bathroom while he brushes his teeth. His gaze is zeroed in on my wet, gaping hole as I plunge my fingers in and out for him. "Fuck me," he says, wiping toothpaste off the side of his mouth and stalking towards me.

Despite being so ready, my heart thuds like it's trying to escape my rib cage. I feel it in every limb and pulse point, all the way to my balls. I'm relaxed and prepped for him, and even if it might hurt, I want this. I wanthim.

"Damn, Daddy. Look at you, all primed and ready for me." His gaze flicks from my ass and already erect cock to my eyes. "You're so fucking sexy," he says, and keeps eye contact while he crawls over me.

His mouth lowers to mine, licking against the seam of what I'm sure is a goofy smile. I open for him, his minty fresh tongue lapping into my mouth, tangling with mine. The kiss is deep and gentle, unhurried and passionate.

His fingers find my ass again, pushing more lube inside me while I stroke his cock. I try to line him up, ready to just get it over with, but he's having none of it.

"This is why you're not in control right now. You'd hurt yourself and it would be weeks before I could fuck this sweet ass again." My eyes nearly roll back with lust and impatience, but he finally lines himself up, rubbing his cock against my hole before pushing forward.

Keeping his eyes locked on mine the whole time, he pushes into the tight ring of muscle. After being stretched and milked the way I was in the shower a few minutes ago, I have no problems taking the entire head of his cock, but he still pulls back. His body shakes with the control, but he gently moves in and out of me, only giving me a little of him at a time. The further in he pushes, the more pressure I feel.

"Breathe," he says, despite it sounding like he's holding his own breath.

There's so much pressure, I can't look him in the eye anymore. It's too intimate, too emotional. If I keep letting him stare into my eyes, he might see everything I'm hiding. All the emotion and fear; all the attachment I've found with him. I feel hot tears behind my eyes, and even though I don't want him to stop, I let him think it's pain causing it.

"It's okay," he pants. "We can pull back. And if you need to stop, we can try again later."

"No!" I spit out. "Please. Don't stop."

"We're almost there," he whispers, kissing me sweetly. I can't bear it, and wrap a hand around the nape of his neck to pull him closer. I plunge my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss until he moans. His hips buck a little, and the upward motion brushes against my prostate. He rocks back and forth over that same spot.

"Feels good," I pant into his mouth. "More."

"More?"

"Yes.Fuck.Give it to me."

He's more than halfway in, so when he slowly pushes in to bottom out, it's not too much to take. It mostly feels like a lot of pressure.

Sweat drips from his forehead as he leans it against mine. "I knew you would feel good, but fuuuck," he groans. He rocks against me, letting my body adjust, before pulling back to thrust inside again.

With each thrust, he pulls back a little more, surging forward with a little more power.

"Oh. Shit."

He nods and chuckles, before pulling himself up to his knees, fingers digging into my hips as he rolls his into mine. He bites his lip, furrowing his brow with the amount of control he’s exhibiting.

“You feel so good, Henry. So tight and perfect. I’m not going to last.”

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