Page 175 of The Liar's Reckoning

“You miss a big cock, don’t you, Senator?” I give him a few rough, twisting thrusts. “Look at this greedy cunt. Someone’s obviously been practicing.”

“Yes…” he moans. “Yes…”

“You realize what this means, don’t you, Senator? It means you’re a whore. Just like me.”

“Yes,” he says again, sounding utterly miserable.

“But where’s the pride, puppy? All this time, and you still can’t be proud of who you are? Who you’ve always been?”

“Silas,” he shouts as I fuck a fourth finger into him, opening him as wide as my cock would if it were anywhere near ready to go again, which it isn’t.

“What are you?”

“A whore,” he pants, barely loud enough.

“What was that? Louder, Lawther.”

“A whore—fuck.”

“But not just a whore.”

“No…”

I funnel my fingers inside, adding more lube to my hand before sliding my thumb in, too, until all my knuckles are spreading him wide.

He makes a shrieking noise as I rotate my wrist.

“What do your friends in the Capitol call people like you? You can say it. You can’t offend me, puppy.”

That’s a lie. His existence offends me, but here we are, and I’m finally starting to enjoy myself as he truly begins to suffer.

He whispers the word, but it’s not loud enough. I need to hear him admit it. I needmy phoneto hear him admit it.

“Louder,” I snap.

“Queer.”

“Oh, is that all? They’re being too nice. Maybe they see it in you. The queer with a greedy hole and a dick that only gets hard for cock.”

My hand slides in to my wrist, and I turn it slowly, curling my fingers into a loose fist. He’s a wreck of heavy breathing and grunting noises intermingled with whimpers and the occasional deep, primal moan.

The moans elongate as my knuckles graze his prostate.

I used to charge a lot for fisting, I think bitterly, but the majority of men who thought they wanted it, couldn’t take it. They’d nope out as soon as my thumb joined the party. Frompersonal experience, I know exactly how intense it is. How it makes your asshole feel like it might never go back to normal. It’s never made me come—it’s way too much, and not many people have the finesse required to make it good, but I’ve done it often enough that I do,ifhe can get past the hard part and accept what’s happening to him.

Graham rocks on his knees, adjusting to the intrusion and working his sweet spot. His ass lifts and rolls, bearing down on me with each breath. I grit my teeth so I don’t start punching the guts out of him, no matter how much I might want to—no matter how much he deserves it.

If he can come like this—great. It’ll make for a better video. Look at me, still making a living with sex.

I twist my fist as he rocks, finding a rhythm the way we always did, no matter what we were doing. I try not to resent that it still comes so easily, but it’s hard not to.

“I think I—” He cuts himself off, unable to finish telling me what I can already feel happening. His purple balls are full and taut. His asshole is vibrating on my hand in erratic spasms.

He comes, and it sounds like the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Like he’s being torn apart limb by limb—dying. He comes so hard, he loses control of his body, collapsing onto his chest and his legs splaying flat on the bed as he convulses with the orgasm his cock cage trapped inside.

My slick hand unclenches now that it’s not inside him anymore. I stare down at it. I can’t believe I just did that.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he says, hand reaching for the edge of the mattress. I pick up my trashcan and stride quickly around the bed. He lifts his head and vomits the instant I get there.

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