I watch myself obey, pushing back and making my hole wink open, soft and needy. George sets the tripod down and uses two thick index fingers to spread me wide, holding my hole open in a perfect, obscene gape while I whimper on the recording.
Watching myself get fucked is like ten times the intensity of riding a toy. Both have their own filthy appeal. But seeing someone else wreck me like this, seeing my own hole stretched and used and claimed on camera… it hits somewhere deep, almost spiritual.
That sounds too dramatic, but fuck, isn’t this my new favorite pastime now, second to the real thing? I’m one good dicking away from writing scripture about my prostate.
“Jesus,” I breathe, stroking him slowly through his pants while my head rests on his bare chest. “We look so fucking hot on camera. Can’t believe you made me gape like that.”
George rumbles, dropping his lips against my hair. “You look perfect. Gonna watch it alone when I miss it.”
I catch another glimpse of the screen—my face contorted in pleasure while George pounds into me.
That’s all it takes.
I lift up, push my pants down, position myself properly, and sink down onto his cock with a breathless sigh.
A few orgasms later, we’ve somehow made it from the couch to the bed. I’m still seated on him, his cock buried deep in me, when the aftershocks fade enough for me to move again.
George is breathing hard under me, his chest slick with sweat and arms loose around my waist like he’s trying to decide whether to hold me still or just let me have my way. His dick twitches inside me, still thick and hard enough to keep stretching me open even after coming a few minutes ago.
I roll my hips once, slow and testing. He groans low, fingers flexing on my ass.
“Jesus, Lance. Give a man a second to breathe.”
I grin wickedly and lift up until only the head is inside, then drop back down hard. The wet sound is so hot, my unfiltered moan follows right after, echoing off the bedroom walls.
He curses, hips jerking up on instinct even though his eyes are squeezed shut like he’s in pain and bliss at the same time. “You’re killing me, actually killing me.”
I don’t answer with words. I just start riding again, faster this time. My thighs burning and ass slapping against his pelvis every time I bottom out. I’m too far gone to form sentences.
George’s hands slide to my hips, not guiding, just holding on like he’s afraid I’ll fly off if he lets go. His cock throbs inside me, rock-hard despite the two loads he’s already given me. Sweat dripping down his temples, abs clenching every time I grind down, he still meets every downward stroke with a forceful thrust, giving me exactly what I’m chasing.
He tries to complain again, voice hoarse. “Shit, my dick’s gonna fall off. How many times have you come already? Three? We’ve been going since I don’t even know the fuck when.”
My ass grips around him hard and slow, and his whole body jerks like I just shocked him.
“Four soon,” I manage between moans, my voice cracking. “And you’re still so fucking hard for me, Big Guy.”
He lets out a rough, breathless laugh, almost delirious. “Trying to be a gentleman and pass out, but you’re bouncing on my cock like it’s cardio day.”
I lean forward and brace my hands on his shoulders. George groans and shifts higher against the headboard, pillows shoved behind his back so he’s half-reclined. The new angle tilts his cock upward and slams straight into my prostate.
A raw, keening cry tears out of me. I plant my knees wider, grip his shoulders harder, and start rocking.
George’s hands clamp down on my hips like he’s trying to anchor himself to the mattress. He’s not fighting for control anymore. He’s just holding on, hips jerking up in short, helpless bursts to chase the pace I’m forcing on him.
He finally cracks.
“Fuck this,” he growls, voice raw. “I’m coming again. Can’t fucking hold it when you’re screaming like that.”
“Do it, G. Want to feel it.”
His rhythm breaks and he comes with a broken shout, pulsing deep inside the condom while his whole body shakes under me. The feeling of him throbbing shoves me over the edge one more time. His palm wraps around my shaft, still slick from earlier, giving me a few firm and fast strokes. That’s all it takes. Three rough pulls, thumb dragging over the head on the upstroke, and I shatter.
I come with a cracked, hoarse cry, spilling cum all over. My voice gives out halfway through his name, turning into a whimper.
We stay in place like that for a long beat, with me slumped forward and forehead pressed to his shoulder, both of us gasping like we’ve been underwater too long.
“You fucking menace,” he mutters after a minute, voice rough and warm at the same time. “Didn’t even give me a second to breathe before you wrung another load out of me.”
