Page 31 of Mayfly

Did he just?

“Curren, I—”

“Please,” he whines. “I’ve been coming to the thought of it for as long as I can remember.”

My eyes roll back because, holy shit, that’s hot. The thought of him thinking about me while he’s alone, fucking himself, and wishing I was there with him…

I crawl back over Curren’s body and brush his hair from his neck. I kiss it, then pry his hands away from his face. With no instruction, I plunge the fingers of my other hand into his mouth and onto the back of his tongue. He gags around them, and I collect the thick, viscous saliva. Then reaching between our bodies, I use three fingers this time and force my way inside.

His face contorts in pain.

“Three fingers is nothing compared to the real thing.”

He opens his eyes and tries to look back at me.

With my fingers as deep as they can go, I pump, and search, and—

Curren tries to bite back a wail as his body shakes beneath me. So I latch onto the crook of his neck, and rub the same spot.

“Ah—fuck! That... That...”

“Does Puppy think he’s been stretched open enough?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me?”

Curren nods his head frantically against the bedding.

My fingers slip from his ass and back into his hair. “Get in the fucking bathroom,” I growl directly into his ear before standing him up and dragging him along with me. He has to hunch over so he doesn’t lose a chunk of his scalp as I push him one step ahead of me. But he still looks so big. So strong. Not that much smaller than me in reality, and nothing at all like I pictured he’d turn out. But this is better. Because Curren isn’t the only one who dragged a fantasy around; it’s just that mine felt so shameful I rarely let it rear its ugly head.

“Over the bath.” I toss Curren towards the tub. He stumbles but ultimately does as he’s told. Hands inside on the white porcelain, chest on the edge, knees on the tiles. I can't help but smirk at the sight of him; from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist where the dimples at the base of his spine catch the harsh fluorescence light.

My hand lands on his ass in a smack that echoes off the bathroom walls.

His cry is a mix of grunt and groan that goes straight to my cock, and that's the last thing I need right now, so I grip the head of my dick and squeeze until it hurts. Then I slap Curren harder a second time as a penance he doesn’t know he’s paying.

“Spread your ass open.”

I watch the muscles of Curren’s back tense at my demand, but he doesn’t move. So I step beside him and push his head downwith my foot. “Did I, or did I not, tell you I only like rewarding good boys?”

He tries to turn his head, but I’ve got too much pressure on it.

“Did Puppy change his mind?”

I get my answer when Curren finally moves; his torso now supporting him on the side of the bath as his hands reach back.

Kicking his head to the side, I retake my place behind him and watch as his fingers slide between his ass cheeks to grip the flesh, and expose himself to me.

“If only the guys from juvie could see you now.”

His rim pinches as his balls tighten.

“I bet you’ve always wanted that, too, huh? For them to surround you with their cocks out, drowning you in their piss.”

“No... Just you.”

“You want it in your hair? On your chest? In your face? In your mouth?”

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