Page 60 of These Secret Years

“More?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

I don’t get spit this time. He lets go of my dick and opens the lube with a click of the cap. The cool gel lands between my ass cheeks. He removes his penetrating finger, swipes my crack up and down, and presses two fingers through my mostly relaxed rim.

I think I convulse or something because his laugh is a low rumble I feel in my overly tight balls. I open my mouth, biting my wrist so I don’t squirm or shout or something worse.

Two fingers move smoothly back and forth, occasionally taking a lap around the circumference of my insides.

“Not to tell you something you probably already know, champ, but you were built for this, too.”

My lips close around my wrist to muffle my groan.

“I’m not gonna give you three.”

“Wait, no—I need more. Please.”

“Oh, you do need more.” He withdraws his fingers, and I feel the lewd slap of his cock on my ass.

“Yes, fuck yes,” I whimper.

“Say more, Knight.”

“Please fuck me.”

“More.”

“Please put your cock in me.”

“Why?”

“Need to feel you. Need you to stuff me full.”

“With what?”

“Your cock, goddamnit.”

“Describe it.”

His cock? “Your big, thick, hard cock. I want it inside me.” I can’t tell if it’s the words that get him going or the fact that he’s able to make me say them at all. I’m so hot. Burning up with self-loathing and need so severe I’m sweating in the cool room.

The condom packet rips. Rustling of foil and latex make a soft sound that’s no match for my heavy breathing. The lube makes a slick noise, and he grunts. Lifting my head, I check the mirror. His head is down, his arm is moving, and then his other hand grabs my hip. Slippery, hot flesh settles against my hole. I clench once, hesitating as though my body needs to offer up one last chance for me to back out of this, but I don’t want or need that. My doubt evaporated the moment my knees hit the mattress. My body opened for him with barely a breath.

And it does now, too. His fat cockhead tears through the ring of muscle too small to accommodate it. I hiss at the searing stretch, and my reflex to push away the sudden, extreme fullness welcomes him in beyond my capacity to react in any way except to drop my head again and fucking whine.

“Oh fuck holy shit it’s so big fuck fuck oh my fucking God.”

“You gonna let me hurt you now?” he asks when I finally shut up.

I nod, my hips rocking back in an effort to take more.

It’s uncomfortable, but in terms of pain, I’ve broken three bones and have suffered through dry socket after I had my wisdom teeth removed, so I can’t even really call it pain. I understand exactly what’s happening to me. I have a cock in my ass. It feels more or less exactly how I thought it would, and I’ve craved it for so long, I don’t experience anything other than pure relief at the fact that I’ve actually gotten this far.

Earlier this week I was researching celibacy, so it’s not like I’ve never considered the possibility that I’d be a virgin for a very, very long time. I wanted this, though. I wanted to feel this. Just once, I remember telling myself.

I reach back to touch him. He lets me grab onto his thigh for about two seconds before he brushes my hand off him. “Use your words if you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”