Page 80 of The Prodigal Son

At the sound of his praise, my head falls back with a groan. The effect this man has on me is incredible. I’ve never wanted to please someone so much in my life. And it’s more than just a want. I can’t believe how much it turns me on to know I please him. I want more commands, more requests, more opportunities to hear him call me that.

“Lick your palm.” His voice is even and focused. A deep, sexy order.

Bringing my hand up to my mouth, I lick my hand and coat it with saliva. Then I return my slick palm to my rigid length.

“How does that feel?” he asks. “Describe it for me.”

Resting my head on the pillow with my eyes closed, I moan. “It feels so good,” I reply breathily. “I’m picturing your hand instead of mine.”

“It is my hand,” he says, his voice tighter than before. “Now fondle your balls for me.”

With the other hand, I reach down and cup my sack, gently massaging it in my grip. A guttural whimper escapes my lips.

“That’s it,” he urges me on. “Good boy. Keep going.”

My stroking hand picks up speed. My heels dig into the mattress as I roll onto my back. With my eyes still clenched shut, I imagine it’s Jensen’s hand on my cock. Then, his mouth.

I groan out loud again.

“Look at me, Isaac,” he commands, louder this time.

I turn my head and watch the screen on the nightstand to find that Jensen is stroking himself now too. His clothes are still on and the phone is farther back to capture his body on the screen.

We stare into each other’s eyes as we fuck our palms together.

“God, I miss you,” I cry out raspily.

“Miss me? I’m right here with you. That’s my hand on your cock. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I feel it,” I reply, throwing my head back and stroking faster.

“Don’t you dare come so fast,” he says, noticing my reaction.

“I’m not,” I reply, out of breath.

“Do you have lube?” he asks.

I glance around the room in a rush. There’s lube in my tour bus, but I didn’t exactly think to pack it in my overnight bag. I can’t say I expected to need it.

My eyes catch a small complimentary bottle of lotion on the nightstand. If it’s scented, it might burn like a bitch, but at thispoint, I don’t care. Releasing my cock, I reach over and snatch it off the table.

“I want to see you finger fuck that pretty hole,” he says, and heat shoots to my cock like an explosion. I swear to God, he never ceases to shock me with that mouth of his.

“Holy fuck, Jensen. You can’t say shit like that if you don’t want me to come.”

“Just do it,” he grunts.

Maneuvering myself to my knees, I squirt some lotion on my fingers. Then, with legs parted enough, I tease my ass. Just putting pressure on the rim makes my eyes roll.

“That’s it. Lie down. I want to watch.”

He’s still stroking himself on the couch in his house as I move to my back, sideways on the bed, legs spread wide as I continue to tease myself. I put pillows under my head so I can continue to watch him while giving him a front-row view of my middle finger breaching my tight ring of muscle. He’s removed his shirt, and his pants are splayed open.

My left hand continues pumping my cock as my finger slips in and out of my hole. Jensen groans salaciously, clearly enjoying the show.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he mutters. “And you’re all fucking mine, aren’t you? My good boy.”

I’m breathing so hard I feel like I’m going to pass out. “Yes,” I cry out. “Fuck yes.”

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