Page 61 of Weston & Cyrus
So. Much. Fun.
His reward that time was a slow fuck in and out, barely giving him stimulation. “You know you’re not going to get to come that much anymore, right? You belong to me, slut, and I won’t have you constantly playing with toys that belong to me.”
Giving him a hard fuck to make sure he remembered the toys I was talking about had air getting stuck in his lungs but fireworks seeming to shoot through him, so I had a feeling he’d been very honest about wanting to be used hard.
“Who do your toys belong to?” He had to focus on air first, but after a few moments he shivered and groaned. “That’s not words, slut.”
He was fighting to get them out, but it took longer than he realized. Luckily for him, I was having fun and not in any hurry. “You’re a good little cockwarmer but eventually you’re going to lose your orgasm.”
That wasn’t a threat I was going to follow through on, but it must’ve sounded reasonable enough to him that he jolted and his body tried to come again.
“Naughty slut.” Another spank didn’t help but it was a fun game and got more jolts and sound effects from him. “Words.”
Did he remember what I’d asked?
“Who do these toys belong to?” I gave him another fuck before reaching under him to jiggle his caged cock. “The tight one and the little one.”
“You.” The word burst out of him, filled with desperation and desire. “Please. You. They belong to you.”
“Good boy.” And since that meant he deserved a reward, I started fucking him with a punishing rhythm, bottoming out every time but at an angle that barely teased his prostate.
When he could breathe, he let out moans and whines, but when I was nice and nailed his prostate, I only got frantic, strangled sounds. They were all thoroughly enjoyable, though, and I couldn’t help seeing how many different noises I could wring from my needy boy.
“Please. Please. Please.” Repeating the word over and over, Weston started shaking and I knew we’d reached the end of his rope.
I wasn’t completely sure what would make him come, but I shifted the angle to nail his prostate with every thrust and reached under him to tug on his nipples. The back-and-forth rhythm of fucking and tugging had him letting out a strangled sound and I could feel his body rippling around me. “You’ve got a nice firm hug to keep you cute and soft. A cock in your tight toy. Being used like a slut. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
If it wasn’t we needed to add something else to the mix.
His desperate sounds made it seem like we were close to perfect at the very least. So I gave his nipples one more tug and nailed his prostate again. “Come, slut. Show me how good it feels. Show me you’re my good boy.”
Thank God.
He came.
Letting my own worries fade as he cried out and his body spasmed around me, I chased the pleasure he’d already found and raced toward my own orgasm. I found it as his faded, but feeling me come deep inside him seemed to give him a secondwave of humiliation and pleasure based on his sexy noises. “Yes, my slut loves being used and getting dirty.”
Leaning over him, I kissed the back of his neck and slowly rocked in and out of him, making sure he could feel my cum leaking out. “Such a sweet dirty boy. You begged so nicely and you even got to come.”
Weston was relaxed and hadn’t started to panic yet, so I kissed him and fucked with his head until my cock was too soft and I finally slipped out. He seemed to be blissed out or close to subspace, so I rolled us to the side and wrapped my body around his.
That finally got a soft sigh and he relaxed into me, so I kissed his neck again and nuzzled against him. “That’s right. You were so good.”
Still no freak-out.
No obvious regrets.
As his legs relaxed and his breathing deepened, I stroked his chest and slowly worked my way down his body. When I got to his caged cock, my intention was to release him but he shook his head. “Not yet. Please?”
“Let me check you first.” Kissing his cheek, I sat up and spread his legs wider, chuckling when he gave an embarrassed squeak. “Silly boy.”
That did not help the humiliation running through him, so it was a wonderful way to keep his worries at bay as he wiggled and scrunched up his face. “Does your little toy hurt?”
It looked fine as I shifted it around to make sure I didn’t see any sore spots, but his groan wasn’t exactly helpful. “It’s a bit dirty, so my minute man had fun, but do you have a boo-boo?”
Still just as fun as the first time I’d fucked with him.
And it still got just as fabulous sound effects.
