Page 40 of Brad & Finn
His joints felt liquid, and he struggled to lift his hand and push Brad’s head in the direction of his crotch.
Brad’s laugh was low and scorching. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
He swooped down and took Finn’s straining dick between his lips, and Finn had to slap a hand over his mouth. He swore he wasn’t usually a screamer, but the way Brad seemed to know exactly how to push his buttons was driving him crazy.
“Mmmm, so good,” Brad hummed, and the vibrations shook Finn down to his bones.
It only took a few minutes for Finn to start rocking his hips up into Brad’s mouth. Where he was struggling to get his words out just a few hours earlier, now he couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Your mouth is so good,” he whined. “Please…please—oh god, I need your fingers, please!”
Once he got Brad’s fingers inside him, though, it only got worse.
“How are even your fingers so big! I’m so full…harder—please, babe, harder!”
Brad looked like he was living the dream. His lips were pink and swollen, and his beard was covered in wetness. Every time he lifted his head, he grinned that lopsided grin, and Finn melted farther into the bed.
When Brad slid his arms under Finn’s legs, hitching them up onto his shoulders so he could bend Finn in half, he thankfully lost the ability to speak. Instead, he “mmmm”ed, “nghhh”ed, and “ahhhh”ed like he was a one-man a cappella concert.
Finally, Brad pulled back the foreskin hood on Finn’s dick, and his entire being seemed to zero in on that tender, sensitive part of him.
It took only a minute for his orgasm to start. It began in his chest, in the form of a high-pitched keening noise, and he had to cover his mouth to stifle it. It flowed down through his belly and pooled in his groin.
Brad gave a final rough suck to his dick, and Finn came, arching his back and clamping his legs closed around Brad’s head.
Ever so gently, Brad lowered Finn’s legs back to the bed, and Finn reached for him, making grabby hands like he couldn’t control himself. Which, around Brad, was proving to be true.
“You taste good, sweetheart,” Brad whispered as he lay down on the other half of Finn’s pillow.
Finn huffed, not sure if he believed him. “You know what tastes good?” he asked, rolling onto his side so they were facing each other.
Brad smiled lazily, running his tongue along Finn’s bottom lip. “If you say maple?—”
“Maple candy,” Finn said loudly, clumsily tossing his leg up onto Brad’s hip.
Brad grabbed him roughly around the lower back and pressed their bodies together. It was possible he had intended it as a hug, but Brad was hard against Finn’s thigh, so Finn reached down between them and closed his fist around the head.
Brad’s breath shuddered out. “You don’t have to?—”
“Can I?”
“Y-yeah, I mean, of course.”
Finn’s lips were sore, beard burn having taken a pretty rough toll, so he pressed his face into Brad’s neck as he slowly stroked him up and down.
Brad grunted and muttered soft curses, tracing idle patterns up and down Finn’s back. Exhaustion was settling in around them, but Brad’s hips were chasing Finn’s hand with each stroke, and he wanted to make Brad feel as good as he’d made Finn feel all night. He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, teasing the soft tip with his middle finger.
Brad laughed and pressed his palm into the middle of Finn’s back. “Stroking motion…with a squeeze and twist at the end?”
Finn did the twisting motion again, and Brad yelped. He did it a third time, then reached down lower with his other hand, gently rolling his balls between his fingers.
“Oh, shit?—”
Finn sucked on his collarbone, where he knew a shirt would fully cover any hickeys left behind, and Brad’s body tensed.
“Finn!”
Finn jerked his hand in three quick strokes, and Brad came with a choked cry, wrapping himself around Finn like a giant octopus.
