He works in a second finger, then a third, scissoring. I grind down, fucking myself on his fingers, amazed at how my body is opening for him, how good it feels to be filled.
When my legs shake and I can't take more, I grab the lube, pour it on my palm, and reach back to stroke his cock. It's beautiful in my hand, not as thick as mine but with a nice heft to it, and definitely longer. My boyfriend is well hung, I think, and then I catch myself.Boyfriend.That's so weird to say in my head, but I like it. I like it so much it aches.
He stills, pulls his fingers out gently, and grips my thighs. “Are you sure?”
I nod, because I am, I'm surer than I've been about anything. I hold his cock and start to sink. “Take it slow, babe,” he says. “You have control. Take it at your pace. I'm just going to sit here and enjoy the view.”
I groan and press down until the head pops through. I gasp and still, my body adjusting, my mind reeling at the intrusion.
He rubs my thighs. “I'm gonna need you to breathe, baby.” I breathe, slowly sinking down until I feel his groin pressed against my ass. “That's it, you're taking it all, Perfect.”
I maneuver for better control, then begin moving up and down. It shifts from discomfort to pure pleasure—this fullness I've never known I needed. I lean forward, kiss him deeply, shift to a faster ride.
Breaking the kiss, I press my forehead against his. “You're so fucking big, Ry.”
He laughs. “Definitely not a starter dick. But neither is yours. You're doing great, Spence.”
I grab his face. “Ryan.”
“What do you need?”
“I want you to put me on my back and make me your whore for the night. Show me how good jocks can fuck.”
“Jesus, Spence.”
“I mean it, Ryan. I need you to fuck my brains out.”
He gently pulls out, then in one swift motion, scoops me up and pins me on my back. I feel vulnerable like this, exposed, and I love it because it's him. He kneels, spreads my legs, applies more lube, and gently sinks back inside. The stretch is deeper from this angle, and I whimper, overwhelmed.
Ryan leans forward, framing my face between his arms.
“You ready?”
I swallow, nodding.
He kisses me. “Say it again. Tell me you love me.”
I clasp my hands behind his head.
“I love you. Now fuck me.”
What follows is skin meeting skin, moans, endless kisses, his balls slapping my ass. We alternate between fast, frenzied thrusts and slow grinding, and I'm lost in it, in him, in this thing between us that's bigger than just sex.
“Ryan, I need to come,” I finally say.
He grins, then leans back. I reach for my cock, but he knocks my hand away. “No. I get you off.”
“Oh god. That shouldn't be hot.”
Ryan grins wider, then uses that strong body of his to pound into me while stroking my impossibly hard length. In no time, he has me shouting, “Ryan, fuck, Ryan, please!”
He switches the angle for a direct hit on my prostate. Two strokes and I groan, “I’m gonna come, Ry.”
“Give it to me, Perfect.”
Two more pegs of my prostate and two more strokes of my cock—and I’m spilling over with the most explosive climax ever, my whole body shaking with it, my vision going white at the edges.
When I'm drained, Ryan leans forward and fucks me through the tail end, and I feel so claimed, so thoroughly his. “I'm going to mark this ass as mine.” I nod. “Fucking do it.” He lets out a strangled moan, warm release flooding inside, and I feel it, feel him filling me. It's the most intimate thing I've ever experienced. He collapses on top, his heavy body grounding me to this moment, this perfect, ridiculous, overwhelming moment.
