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As Artair’s pounding grew faster, he trapped Luca’s arms in a cross over his chest, making it impossible for Luca to touch himself.
And then, somehow, Artair found even more direct angles into his ass, bucking his hips in bouncing slams. Hitting Luca mercilessly in his prostate. Making Luca splutter in incomprehensible pleasure.
Again and again he slammed into Luca—not as some glancing blow, but head-on now. Direct. Smashing him so hard that Luca almost lost the power of speech.
Then came the strangest sensation that Luca had ever felt. It rose first in his stomach, hot and unfamiliar. It grew like fuel in a piston, firing fast, growing in a line of roaring V8s. It came next to his balls—a deep pressure, like a steaming espresso machine. By the time it reached his prostate, now victim to the relentless torture of Artair’s nonstop pounds, it was like an oil geyser ready to burst from the earth.
Artair held Luca’s arms tight against his chest, obviously sensing what was happening. Feeling Luca’s conquered asshole spasm against his seismic girth.
Luca could barely breathe now.
The room was spinning.
When Luca spoke, it was broken words.
Please . . .
That . . .
Harder . . .
“Fuck yeah!” barked Artair at Luca’s submission, twisting him around for a deep, trapped kiss, somehow finding new pounds of pace.
And among all of that unbearable pleasure, Artair’s tongue was the final tipping point for Luca.
At the hunger of the man.
At the hunger for him.
Their mouths were entwined when the first jet of cum burst from Luca’s cock, arcing huge and handsfree across the floor. Luca screamed and sucked in Artair’s breath, losing all sense of time as the most overwhelming pleasure poured from him.
It was like nothing he’d ever experienced—the shots exploding out with such screaming force, such depth of desperation, that he almost collapsed under the weight of his own bliss.
But Artair didn’t let up, thrusting even deeper. Holding him in place with powerful arms. Not stopping his thrusts for one fucking second.
Now the tides of their needs turned. Now Luca’s ass propelled Artair with an urge to empty his big, slapping balls.
Luca broke the kiss and pushed his head back—Artair’s beard and tongue once again meeting his ear.
“Cum in me!” Luca sobbed, the afterglow making his whole body wish that he could merge into the man behind him. Be taken in full. Be used and consumed and owned. “Please, Artair. Please! Give me your fucking load.”
“Oh, fuck!” groaned Artair, spurred on by his eagerness. “You want it, Luca? You want my cum deep in your fucking guts?”
In this moment, there was nothing that Luca wanted more. And he did everything he could to show it, whispering filth into Artair’s ear. Telling him how good he was. Thrusting his huge cheeks back to meet each slam. Saying his name—hot and angry and slamming their tongues together.
Artair!
Artair!
Artair!
With all that hunger, it was only a matter of moments before Artair was screaming out in a soul-searing orgasm.
The hot cum flooded Luca. The deep throbs were so big and heavy inside him that they stretched his ring to new widths, barely able to contain the force of his lover’s load. The screams of Artair’s bliss were so sheer, so joyful that it warmed Luca to his core—joined by each jet of cum that sprayed up his ass.
On and on it went.
Pulse after pent-up pulse.
