“Let one finger inside, only the barest inch, slow as you can.”
Andrew whimpered again. Going this slow was torture, his gut on fire. He pressed in not quite to the first knuckle.
"Keep going."
Thank God.
"Deeper. Stretch yourself. Let me see how much you like it."
"Ugnnn," Andrew arched his neck and closed his eyes—but no. He wanted to see Ford, wanted to watch those magnificent eyes on him.
"You're so beautiful, Andrew, you have no idea. Add the other finger."
Whining eagerly at the touch, Andrew stretched himself wider, starting to scissor, slowly, always so slowly. And as he lay there, balanced on the ledge of the roof, he saw Ford lift his hands to the waist of his pants, lamenting that they weren't on the same roof and imagining how differently this could go if they were.
Ford pulled himself free of his pants, took himself in hand, and stroked. Andrew wanted to touch him, touch himself again, feel Ford's hands on him,something.
"Keep going. Deeper," Ford's voice rumbled across the line, rough and quaking.
Andrew complied, pressing his wet fingers deep inside himself, found his prostate, and quivered. "Ford..."
"Wishing that was my cock inside you, Andrew?"
"Yes." Andrew’s free hand twitched to touch his untouched erection. He moved his hand closer, eyes on Ford touching himself. "Can I—”
"No."
Andrew wailed, moving his fingers faster inside of him to accommodate. It felt good, and he enjoyed the way Ford looked at him, imagining he was the one touching him, but it wasn't enough.
Going straight for the sweet spot again and again, Andrew thrust with his fingers harder.
"Fuck, you're incredible," Ford praised him.
"Can I now...? Please?"
"Yes... touch yourself, but don't come. You come when I do."
Andrew's hand on his cock was such an instant relief, he nearly sobbed.
"Slower."
And then he did sob, because, "Please...please..." slow wasn't enough.
"Almost. Slower. Keep using those fingers. Show me how open you are. How much you want it. You do want it, don't you? You want me to fuck you."
"God, yes..."
"I will. Soon, I will. But tonight, you need to come for me just like this. Faster."
Andrew sped up his hand and the fingers inside him, eyes on Ford, who was rapidly moving his own hand over his red and weeping cock.
"F-faster," Ford’s voice stuttered, hoarse now. "Faster. Fast as you can."
Andrew’s hand practically blurred with speed; he was so close to coming.
"Not yet."
"Ford," he growled.
