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“Patience,” he murmured at one point, shifting behind me.
I was about to remind him I didn’t have any when he pressed a finger inside of me, slicked with lube from I didn’t know where and, frankly, didn’t care. Corkscrewing it in deeper, he exhaled as I groaned, clawing at the mattress. “Fuck, Misha…”
He worked his finger in and out slowly, as methodically as everything else had been, stroking along my insides. My prostate was clearly his intended target, since he made sure to graze, tap, and press it in random patterns, never lingering for more than a moment.
It wasn’t long before he added a second.
I pushed my hips back, trying to get him to speed up again. It was torture. Pure, fucking torture. I couldn’t take it anymore. Wedging a hand underneath myself, I’d barely given my poor dick one minuscule tug when he seized my arm and plucked my hand back out, planting it firmly on the mattress.
“Not yet.”
“Thenyoudo it,” I whined, thrusting against the unsatisfying feel of the bedding. Friction was friction but if I had a choice, I’d prefer something a little more all-encompassing.
“Not yet.”
He cut another protest off at the pass, reinserting his fingers so quickly and plunging so deep that I made a completely undignified sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry. He didn’t seem to care. His tongue got in on the action again, licking around the stretched skin where his fingers worked in and out at a steady pace, before it glided south to my balls, teasing them gently.
Aching for more, I reached back and threaded my fingers through his hair, tightening them around his golden strands, trying to maneuver him upward again. I’d never been so desperate to be fucked in my entire life. So much so that I started babbling like an idiot.
“Harder. Oh my God. Please, Misha. Fuck! It feels too good. I can’t stand it much longer. I have to come. Please!” I let go of his hair, clawing at the sheets again when he drove his fingers in deeper and pulled back so slowly I wanted to cry.
He gently sucked one of my balls into his mouth, humming something that sounded like “Nuh uh” in the process.
“Goddamn it! You’re fucking killing me.”
Validating my argument, he crooked his fingers inside, brushing right over my prostate as he licked a path from my balls back up to my hole.
“Fuck, fuck! Don’t stop. Please. Ineedto come. Misha, please!” At any moment, I was pretty sure I was going to explode into a thousand frustrated pieces. Pressure built along my spine, circling inside my abdomen. It even extended down my legs, tensing my thighs and curling my toes. But as badly as I wanted the release, I didn’t want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop.
His fingers grazed my prostate one more time on their way out. My pitiful whine turned into a moan when his face pressed against my ass again, sucking and licking harder than he had before. I swiveled my hips in sync with his tongue, trying to push myself over the edge he seemed determined to keep me on indefinitely.
The more I writhed, the more he groaned, sending more vibrations thrumming through me. More, more, more, but still not enough.
Pulling back slightly, he spread me open and spat, smearing it around with the pad of his thumb. Before I could complain again, his fingers pushed inside, chill with fresh lube, stretching more than before. Because there were three. Three of his long fingers sliding in and out, faster and faster, andfinally!
Game. Fucking. Over.
The orgasm I’d been trying to reach crashed over me like a dam giving way, flooding every part of me from head to toe.
“Oh, fuck!” I cried out, burying my face into the pillow and thrusting my cock downward, blowing my load all over the sheets. I should have been embarrassed by that pathetic display of neediness; any other time, I definitely would have been, but at that moment I was too blissed out to care, riding high on the best orgasm of my life, bar none. By the time it was over, I was shaking. I didn’t even know that was possible.
Misha kissed my hip and crawled up my back, planting a trail of kisses up my spine before landing one on the side of my face. “Are you ok?”
“Uh huh.”
Laying behind me, he pulled me backward, curving his body around mine. Most of his body heat was diffused by his clothing, except for where his bare forearm was draped over my waist. That spot was red hot, along with part of my stomach where his fingers were splayed. I wasn’t a cuddler by choice but it felt nice with him. Maybe because he was actually giving me a minute to recover before jumping into Round Two.
After a while, he kissed the back of my neck and asked, “Do you want to shower?”
“Mhmm,” was all I managed from the edge of sleep.
I was vaguely aware that the bed shifted behind me, indicating he climbed off. My eyes drifted shut until I popped them open again, blinking hard and trying to regain some alertness.
Sometime later, Misha reappeared, peeling me off the mattress and directing me toward the steamy bathroom. My legs felt like jelly the entire way there. If it wasn’t for him keeping me upright, I’m pretty sure I would have crumpled into a heap on the floor. I got the hype now. Finally. After ten years of fucking guys, I got why the prostate was so revered.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as I stepped into the shower.
I couldn’t remember if I answered him. At that point, I didn’t even know if I could speak beyond caveman grunts. I was too lost in my head to care. Slumping against the wall for support, I hoped the cool tile would shock some sense back into me. Or at least some goddamn composure.Iwas supposed to be the professional. But that right there? That took everything I thought I knew and turned it on its head. It was the best high I’d ever had and I was instantly addicted.
