Page 21

“Nngh.” Suddenly, Larkin’s chest stained with a flush. His hips twitched, shifting up to push his cock through my hand. He clutched the couch cushions again, his thighs quaking against my sides.

I gave him another slow stroke, and my belly tightened when Larkin stiffened and began to shake all over. He sucked in a sharp breath as if to say something, but in the next instant, his cock was throbbing in my hand as he loosed a strangled sound and his head fell back.

Cum shot from him, arcing high into the air and landing on his chest. Spurt after spurt in quick succession, leaving ribbons of pearlescent fluid dripping down his heaving stomach. A tiny groan escaped me, but he was too distracted to have heard it, grinding his head back against the couch as he whimpered.

The moment he stopped coming and sagged, his head snapped up to stare down at me with wide, horrified eyes.

“Sh-shit, I… I’m sorry.” He rubbed a shaking hand over his face. “Fuck. That’s so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not,” I said calmly, fighting the urge to dip down and lick up the cum dripping from my fingers. “It was your first handjob from another person. But that’s actually something we can practise,” I added slyly. “Building your stamina.”

Larkin’s expression was vulnerable as he gazed down at me and nodded. I was still holding his shaft, which was half-hard in my fist. I couldn’t stop myself from giving it a tiny stroke, and he gasped, his lean stomach clenching. His cock twitched. And began to stiffen back up.

“Do you want to practise that now?” I asked, ignoring the insistent throbbing in my pants. I could wait. “Have you heard of edging?”

“Um, y-yes.” He fidgeted, fingers picking absently at the couch cushion. “Like… not letting yourself come, right?”

“That’s right.” I nodded, hoping my voice wasn’t too much of a sultry purr. This isn’t anything. It’s just practice. Just teaching him. “It’s a good way to improve your stamina. We can try it, if you want.”

“O-okay.” He swallowed, looking like he was trying to mentally prepare himself for another handjob. “Does it… hurt? Like… blue balls?”

My mouth curled into a crooked smile. “You already have blue balls.”

He paused, then snuffled a tiny laugh. “True.”

“But no, it doesn’t hurt.” My lips twitched. “I mean, if I left you without coming after a long edging session, it wouldn’t be comfortable. But it’s not painful.”

He was gazing at me with a wide-eyed expression, as if suddenly realising that I was, in fact, a sexual being myself. “H-have you… done that before?”

I gave him a tiny smirk and a slight shrug, but remained silent. His cock had grown rock hard in my fist, and he only seemed to notice when he fidgeted and it slid through my grip, making him suck in a sweet little gasp.

“Ready to try?” I rasped, swiping my palm over his tip to collect the cum clinging there. He gasped again, shuddering at the sensation.

“Y-yes.” He took a fortifying breath, then nodded resolutely. “Edge me, bro.”

God, this was… insane. Beyond hot. A brand-new form of torture. I felt like anything but Larkin’s bro as I began stroking his cock again, steadily and firmly pumping my fist, building up a good rhythm. My other hand was still resting on his knee, but I slowly slid it up to mid-thigh and gently gripped the lightly trembling muscle.

This time, Larkin seemed slightly less tense and nervous, because soft sounds began to escape him as I pumped his cock. Tiny grunts, breathy moans, sweet little hitches as his hips began to rise to meet my shuttling fist. He dropped his head back against the couch with a sigh of pleasure, and he actually seemed relaxed enough to truly enjoy the sensations.

“How does it feel?” I murmured, my gaze roaming hungrily over every inch of him while I had the chance.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his stretched throat as he nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “R-really good. Different, like you said…” He raised his head and gazed down at me with hazy eyes, lips parted around his shallow breaths. “Y-your hand is… big, dude.”

My mouth quirked. “It is.”

Larkin was tall at about six-one or six-two, but I was taller—around six-seven—and overall bigger and more muscular, thanks to my werewolf genes and the fact that I worked out a lot. I wasn’t ridiculously cut and shredded like most of the wrestlers, but I had a good body.

I wondered whether Larkin would like it.

“And it’s…” He let his head fall back once more, fingers slowly uncurling to relax on the cushions. “N-nice. It feels… really nice.”

He was able to last a fair bit longer this time after already coming, but soon his balls started climbing to hug the base of his shaft, which grew even stiffer in my fist. His breathing quickened, stomach muscles tensing, pre-cum once again dripping steadily from the tip of his cock. Sliding my free hand up his thigh, I cupped his balls and stroked my thumb over them, which made him jerk and gasp.

He was getting close. I greedily catalogued the signs: the scrunched eyebrows, the way his lashes fluttered, the erratic thrusting of his hips into my fist as his knees fell open wider. His fingers curled again, gripping the couch cushions. Just as his chest started to heave, I let go of his shaft.

He shuddered, lifting his ass off the couch to thrust his cock into the air as it bucked. A slow, trembling exhale left him as his hips sank back down. I heard him swallow between his ragged breaths.

After a couple more seconds, I fisted his dick again and gently tugged on his balls to relax them so he wasn’t in immediate danger of coming. Then I started back up, making sure to glide my thumb over his frenulum with every stroke.