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He chuckles, popping his palm across my ass cheek. I clench around his fingers and gasp. Okay, that hurt. “I’m going to make you come, and when I do, when you’re flying away on the sails of the best orgasm of your life, I’m going to pull the plug free.”
“Yes! Just hurry!”
“Such a needy little hot pocket, aren’t you?” he murmurs huskily. “Alright, baby. Drop down on Daddy Fred’s face. Lemme slurp you up.”
Fuck yes!
I do as he commands, planting my hands flat on the floor. His mouth latches around both lips and his tongue slips between them, prodding at my flesh. It’s messy and uncoordinated, his movements making no anatomical sense, but for some reason, it feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I can feel him twisting his lubed up fingers around, rooting and digging through my gaping asshole. It’s unpleasant, but it doesn’t hurt bad enough to distract from his amazing head skills.
“I’m so close,” I whine, feeling that familiar ache deep inside. It burns, almost like I have to pee, and excitement fills me. “You’re doing so good, quiche! You’re going to make me squirt!”
“Hell yeah,” he groans, suctioning me harder.
“Use your free hand to rub my clit,” I beg, rocking my hips faster. He tries, but the rhythm is too slow. I shake my head frantically. “No! Like you're spinning a record! Your whole palm, fast and hard!”
He gets it right the second time, sending me higher and higher toward the great unknown. His teeth catch in my curls, adding a slight bite of pain, and it’s all I need to send me over the edge.
“Open wide, Freddikins! Drink me down like a juice box!” I demand, feeling his mouth immediately open.
I shove up to my knees and look down, watching enthralled as a massive gush of liquid sprays all over his face and chins. He keeps rubbing, moaning in delight at my taste. One orgasm bleeds into another and the world around me momentarily goes dark.
“Baby bed bug.” He groans, sounding tortured. “My baby bed bug. So good. So perfect for me.”
His hips pulse and I catch a small squirt of cum spray from his purplish tip. I lap it up quickly, not wanting it to go to waste.
His flavor is so yummy, it sends aftershocks rocketing through me. I clench hard around his back fingers, and suddenly, extreme pleasure turns to overwhelming pain. My eyes widen and my back goes ramrod straight.
“Story?” Fred calls, his voice laced with concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
I suck in a harsh breath. “Fred…” My stomach flips, tightens, and tumbles. Oh, no! “Fred, something is wrong.” My lower back throbs and starfish flutters. It feels like…it feels like I’m going to… “Fred! Move! You have to move now!”
I grip his wide hips and slide him out from beneath me just as my cramps give way to gassy air. Thank fuck for the dolly! He scrambles to pull up his bottoms, but only gets his underwear fully on before diving to his knees in front of me. He moves to grip my face but pauses an inch from my skin.
I grimace as I catch the scent of his fingers.
But then he’s staring down at me with so much worry, so much care. My eyes burn, and I forget all about where his hands and mouth have been.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I do something bad?” He blinks rapidly, his own orbs clouding over. “Tell me, baby. I can’t fix it if you don’t—”
“Ah!” I scream as another sharp pain blasts through me. My head jolts down to my spread thighs as realization dawns on me. “It’s time, Freddy! It’s coming!”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “It’s coming? Right now? Are you serious?”
He shoots to his feet, stumbling over his pants twice before fixing them, and begins to pace.
“But I’m not—we’re not ready, Story!” I watch as he moves to rub a hand over his sweaty scalp but thinks better of it at the last second. He rushes over to the sink and scrubs his hands twice before turning back to me. “Okay. We can do this. What do you need from me?”
“I j-just ne-need you,” I whimper pitifully. Swallowing hard through another burst of scraping pain, I hold out my hand for him. “Just you, Fred.”
His throat bobs. “Do you want to try to get up and push? Maybe the toilet or—”
I scream again, bearing down as the urge hits me hard and fast. I shake my head, squeezing his hand. “I think it’s too late for that!”
“Okay.” He nods and scoops up a few discarded puppy pads from earlier, one-handedly arranging them between my legs. “Back in the sumo squat you go. Quickly, baby.”
I try to move gingerly but cry out in pain. He grabs me under my arms and helps get me into position. Dropping to his knees, he brings me to his chest and kisses my head. “You’ve got this, Story. I believe in you. You can do this.”
I sniffle. “You won’t leave me?”
