Page 87 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“If that’s the case,” I purred in his ear as I rocked my finger in and out, “I’m never going to get tired of playing top when it’s my turn.”
Pulling back slightly, I added another finger and watched his hands curl against the glass as if trying to grip the surface. He wasn’t just warm around my fingers; he was burning hot, and I could feel the way his body was gripping me. It was taking more focus than usual to keep both hands going at the same time. But if I wanted to keep the sound of his breathing as it grew more shaky with each passing second, then I needed to focus.
A third finger made him cry out faintly, forcing him to push back as his dick jerked in my grasp. His body was far more sensitive than I thought it would be after having gotten off not once, but twice last night. “Do you not...take care of yourself when you’re single?”
“To a certain extent,” he said as he took a breath while I held my three fingers inside him, wondering if I could really feel his heartbeat from inside or if that was just my own feverish thinking getting the best of me. “But not...to a great degree.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure, it doesn’t interest me. I find my release when I need it, when it’s built up for too long, but I don’t put any extra effort into it. There just seems to be...no point. I only enjoy it when I’m with someone else.”
“I see that. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
“Truth be told, I can’t tell if I’m enjoying it so much because it’s been so long or because...it’s you. I think it’s the second...and a touch of the first.”
“Oh?” I asked as I curled one of my fingers and found the firm point I was looking for. The point that, as far as he was concerned, was just a bundle of nerves that existed to drive him crazy. A spot that when touched, made him gasp slightly, his body quivering ever so slightly as I continued stroking him, both his dick and his insides. “Maybe it is both.”
“Oh,” he breathed, pushing back onto my hand. “That?—”
I didn’t need him to tell me whatthatwas because I could feel the way his body kept tightening around me, not to resist, but to savor the feeling. My patience was wearing thin, and I had to take my hand off his dick long enough to shove my pants and underwear off as I kept my fingers buried in him. I didn’t bother with my shirt; it wasn’t important.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose it before you even get inside me properly,” he warned as I continued pushing my fingers into him. “My whole body feels...like it’s going to go crazy any minute.”
“It’s nice to see you can be as impatient as any normal person,” I said with a chuckle.
“Other than a few things, I’m pretty normal,” he said.
I pulled my fingers out, using the lube to stroke myself until my dick shone. “I’m going to tell you right now, there’s nothing normal about the effect you have on me.”
He had nothing to say to that as I hovered, pressing against him and then making sure the angle was right. Taking a deep breath, I pushed forward. There was resistance, but between the work I had done and his eagerness, all I needed to do was back up a little and bend him forward. I stared down at our bodies and grunted when I both felt and watched the head of my cock pop inside him.
“Oh God,” he whispered faintly, gripping my tip with his muscles before reaching back and gripping my waist.
It took me a heartbeat to realize he was trying to pull me toward him, and I wasn’t one to deny a man his pleasure. Pushing forward, I sucked in a breath and held it as I tried to stay in control and enjoy the feeling. He was still tight, but not as tight as he’d been around my fingers. And despite it apparently having been ages since anyone had fucked him, the steady pressure of him pulling my hips never let up.
“You okay?” I wondered because even with the prep, there still had to be some discomfort, if not the burning ache that I’d been on the receiving end of last night.
His answer was to yank me forward, and I gave a strangled noise as my last couple of inches were buried inside him without warning. My grip on his hips tightened as I fought the urge to lose control right then and there. Instead, I focused on breathing and running my hands up and down his back, not to soothe him since he seemed to be dealing with the pressure, but to give my mind something to focus on.
God knew how much time had passed before I was confident I could continue. Reaching forward, I took hold of his shoulder with one hand, keeping the other on his hip. I ground into him, a flash of heat blasting through me when I heard him give a low groan. I had done more drugs than the average person had ever seen, even on TV, but nothing compared to the intoxication thatfilled me as I pulled back and pushed into him again, the feel of his insides hot and firm around my cock as I buried myself.
The overriding demand for more that I’d felt last night came back with a vengeance, and I slid almost completely out before snapping my hips forward. It was a bold move because God knows, as demanding as he was, there was such a thing as too much too soon. Yet as soon as I was swiftly buried in him again, his body jerked and he grunted, pushing back into me, demanding more.
I was helpless to do anything else.
Standing up, I got into the rhythm and began to pound into him. I could feel my body growing warmer, sweat breaking out even as I saw the same on his back and face. Arlo pressed himself against the window, his fingers splayed, and the sound of our bodies meeting repeatedly grew louder and louder as I worked up an even harder pace. I was giving as good as I had got, and he was taking it just as well as I had, if not better.
“Oh,please,” he whimpered as I battered him; his head would have bounced off the window if he hadn’t used his hand as a cushion.
I knew what he was begging for, and I was more than happy to give it to him. Tightening my grip on his shoulder, I pulled him upright and pushed forward. I briefly prayed the window was strong enough to withstand the force as he was pressed against it. Except for his hips, because I had reached in front of him and wrapped my hand around his cock. He could have grabbed it, but he hadn’t. Maybe he had been waiting for me to initiate or give permission.
Whatever it was, I began stroking his cock as I continued to thrust. I couldn’t keep the same rhythm and strength as before, but I stayed deep inside him, thrusting against his insides and making him cry out and whimper. It took less than a minutebefore I felt his body go rigid, his breath catching at the end of each inhale, and his legs began to shake.
His cry was low and throaty, and I felt his grip around my cock grow even firmer as his cock jumped in my hand. He splattered the window as I held onto him, gasping as I felt the grip around me become like iron, refusing to let me go as he came hard. I knew the moment he was done when he sagged against the window, and I carefully pulled out once his muscles released their grip on me.
“Here,” I all but panted, at the edge of the precipice and desperate to tip over the edge.
Arlo swung around, and when I pushed down on his shoulder, he didn’t miss a beat or hesitate. He was on his knees in a heartbeat, peering up at me with big eyes that burned with the leftover lust he still felt. Hovering over him, I jerked myself; it was sloppy and erratic, but it was all I needed. The tipping point came when he tipped his head back and opened his mouth.
