“Fuck. You feel good. Such a good boy.” His voice was low, pitched perfectly to slip past some of my resistance.
I’d endure a lot for more praise like that. I liked his possessive tone, particularly when he backed it with a proprietary kiss.
I willed myself to relax, like I was warming up before a track meet, melting into the stretch. Moaning against Joe’s mouth, I closed my eyes and rocked my hips, experimenting. And then my whole body jolted, like I’d touched a live wire. “Oh. I…oh.”
“Like that?” Joe’s voice was strained, just like mine. Good. I loved turning him on. I ground down, wanting to brush against his cock, but also seeking more of that electric pleasure. “That’s it. Ride my fingers. Show Daddy how good it makes you feel.”
“So good,” I panted as I found an angle that made his fingers brush that spot again and again. My abs tensed and a bead of sweat rolled down my back. “Fuck. Daddy. I….”
“Mmm.” Joe made a pleased growl. “You unable to sass me is something, brat. Might need to explore this a little more.”
“Yes. Oh.” I gasped again as he added what felt like a third finger. Almost too much. Too full. But then he pushed deeper, turning the jolts of electricity into a steady pressure, a power-plant’s worth of pleasure humming through my veins. “Now. Please.”
“You want it?” Voice rough, he fucked me deeper with his fingers. My balls tightened without either of us touching my cock.
“Yes, Daddy. Please.” I hovered my hand above my dick, needing to touch it, but knowing he wouldn’t allow that, which only served to turn me on more.
“Ask me nicely.” Joe reached for the lube with his free hand, but he wasn’t moving fast enough for how desperate I felt.
“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me.” Moaning as he did exactly that with his fingers, I bucked against him, trying again to get some friction, any friction on my cock. “I don’t want to come on your fingers.”
“You don’t?” He made a clucking noise before withdrawing his fingers and wiping them off on his boxers.
“No. Want your cock. Please.” Begging felt good. Freeing. Like another layer of being the brat. Like I could want this. Need it, even, and that was okay. More than okay. Sexy. I knew begging turned Joe’s crank, but it also did it for me, stoked my arousal that much more. My breath hitched with very real desperation. “Please. Daddy.”
“There we go. Damn. You are the sexiest fucking thing when you beg. Makes me so hard.”
Joe slicked up his cock. Bare. He raised an eyebrow at me, waiting. He’d reach for a condom if I asked, and he wouldn’t make me feel bad about changing my mind either. But that wasn’t what I wanted. Joe was already my deepest, darkest fantasies come to life, and I wanted this one too. I nodded.
“I…” I trailed off as Joe guided me backwards, holding his cock steady. The blunt head brushed my slick and stretched rim. It felt so much bigger than fingers. The burn returned, along with all my muscles tensing. My stomach wobbled, unsure what to make of this intrusion. “Fuck. Ah. Not sure…”
“Slow, baby. Slow.” Joe pitched his voice low and soothing as his free hand stroked my back and sides.
I took a shallow breath, trying to relax into the stretch like earlier.
“It’s so big.” I meant it literally, but also in the kinky sense we both enjoyed, letting the game relax me further.
“You can take it.” Joe caught on quick and gave me one of his stern Daddy looks. “Be a good boy. I know you can.”
His words were like an extra squirt of lube. Or maybe courage. Whatever. Suddenly, it was easier to move, sliding a little farther until my ass brushed the top of his thighs. My next exhale hissed out, and my quads trembled.
“Easy. Too much?”
“No. Just…” It was getting hard to talk again. Then Joe started touching me all over, my back, sides, chest. He tweaked one of my nipples, and I startled, which was exactly enough movement to cause one of those electrical pleasure jolts inside my ass. I rocked again, trying to find it on my own. “Oh. Better.”
“Yeah? Try moving a little more.” Placing his hands on my hips, he guided me into a rhythm that felt familiar from all our frot and grinding sessions, but also new.
“This?” Undulating my torso, I tried different angles until I found one that had us both groaning.
“Fuck. Yes. Whatever feels good.” Joe’s eyes fluttered shut. His face and chest were flushed, and we were both sweating, but hell if I was complaining—or stopping—until I made him come.
Me climaxing seemed more out of reach. The surge of pleasure whenever Joe’s cock grazed my prostrate was awesome, and my body was getting more used to the stretch, but despite being super turned-on, my cock had flagged. Which I was trying to ignore, but then Joe started playing with it. As usual, his firm grip had me panting in short order. God, I loved his hands.