Page 72 of Hansel and Gerhardt
“You seem fine like this.” He pumped his finger in and out with earth-shattering precision. “Maybe you don’t want me to fuck you.”
“No!” Hansel cried.
“No?” Gerhardt responded. He pulled his finger out as he licked Hansel’s dick from the base to the tip. But this was no retreat. He only dipped his fingers into a swirl of cream, then redoubled his work on Hansel’s ass with two fingers.
“Ah, fuck!” Hansel cried, losing his sugary fingers in his hair. “Please, Gerhardt. Fuck!”
“Please don’t fuck you?”
“God damn it, Gerhardt!” His pelvis shot forward desperately, curling the tips of Gerhardt’s fingers so that a sharp thrill ran through his entire body. “Oh, fuck! What did you just do?”
Gerhardt’s eyes widened at the new amusement. “This?” He curled them again, drinking in the tightening of Hansel’s abs, the greedy clenching of his ass, the way he bit into the back of his hand to keep from screaming. “But I guess if you want me to stop…”
“Oh, no! Oh, please no. Please, Gerhardt. Please don’t stop. Not ever.” He reached for him, trembling hands grasping at his shoulders, sliding uselessly to the mess on the table. “More. Please give me more.”
“With pleasure.” He worked Hansel’s miraculously discovered sweet spot, widening his fingers, toying with him, responding to every cry of pleasure with a ratcheting up of his actions, his dick ready to burst at the sights and sounds of Hansel falling apart for him.
More cream again, and he pressed another finger in, and Hansel gave a cock-twitching grunt that made Gerhardt’s dick positively ache for him. He looked so good, his hole stretched wide, those thighs shaking, those lips trembling, barely able to form words, a complete wreck for Gerhardt.
Gerhardt was entranced, loving every moment, and he had little thought for his own pleasure. That is, until Hansel controlled himself just a little, enough only to rasp out a surprisingly eloquent, “I want you to fuck me. I want your dick inside me. I want you to indulge in me, take your pleasure from me. I want you to tear me apart, Gerhardt.”
Never was a wish granted so quickly or with such enthusiasm.
Releasing Hansel just long enough to slap a handful of whipped cream onto his own dick, Gerhardt took hold of hiship, lined himself up with Hansel’s begging hole, and plunged himself in.
The bliss was palpable, emanating from every inch of him. It felt like stepping into Heaven. The desperate need his dick had for touch, but here was Hansel, and he was too perfect. He was so hot, so tight. Gerhardt had never felt such all-encompassing ecstasy.
Hansel grasped his wrist, pulled at him, begging against clenched teeth for him to push deeper, to come closer.
Gerhardt closed a hand at his waist to try to support himself, to slow things for Hansel’s sake. But Hansel wrapped a leg around behind him, forcing him in. “Oh, fuck, Hansel,” Gerhardt cried. “You feel incredible.”
Hansel reached long arms down for his thighs, desperate for more of him, bucking his hips so Gerhardt doubled over, sinking even deeper. He let out a small laugh in shock at himself, at Hansel, at the strange newness of it all. “You really like being fucked, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I think I do.” He dug his fingers into Gerhardt’s skin. “Give me more.”
“That’s not a small dick, Hansel. Maybe we should slow down.”
“More!” Hansel demanded. And who was Gerhardt to deny him?
He settled both hands on Hansel’s chest, arched his back, and slipped his dick a little way back, then, “Are you sure you can take it?”
“Fuck me!”
Gerhardt slammed into him, and they both cried out, pleasured moans so loud they drowned out the still-screaming Herr Candy, still flailing, on fire in the oven.
Hansel’s broad and built chest rose with gasping breaths. Gerhardt grasped handfuls of him, overcome with intensity. He managed to ask, “Are you all right?”
“Kiss me. Kiss me, please.” His hand wrapped around his neck, and he brought Gerhardt’s lips to his own, his tongue striking out for him in an adoring kiss. “Don’t you dare stop. Fuck me. Wreck me.”
And so Gerhardt did. He drove into Hansel unguardedly, lovingly, desperately, every shock of his hips, every wrenching grasp of his shoulders an expression of the desperate love that had taken him over, body and soul. Passion—all passion except anger—had been absent from him almost all his life. But now there was this. This love which bloomed true and powerful, pure, beautiful, and untameable. This love that was going to be his sole purpose for the rest of his life—proving his love for Hansel just as much as Hansel had proven himself to Gerhardt.
He leaned down and kissed him. “You’re so strong, Hansel.”
Hansel let out a soft moan.
He thrust into him. “You’re so smart, Hansel.”
“Oh, Gerhardt….” Hansel grasped handfuls of his hair, his whole body on fire as Gerhardt swept over that magical spot with his cock, which was so big, so beautiful, so soul-shattering in his desire for him, physical, spoken, everything Hansel had needed in his heart to feel and to hear.
