Playing with Fire

by K. C. Wells

  That slow tongue was back, lapping at my entrance, pushing at the ring, getting me wet.

  Getting me ready for his cock.

  I couldn’t help myself. My knees buckled at the thought of Damon’s fat dick splitting my ass. Oh, I’d seen it, all right. Damon had been sunning himself on a towel in his yard, his body oiled and gleaming in the sun. I’d watched him lying there, hand slowly coaxing his cock into fullness. I recalled the heat that flooded through me, heat that had nothing to do with the temperature that summer’s afternoon, and everything to do with the massive man-meat between Damon’s legs.

  Man-meat that I wanted to fucking own me.

  I gave a jolt when Damon slid a finger into my hole, his tongue licking around it. Fuck, even his fingers are wide. I bit back my groan when he pulled free, and spat out a low moan of pleasure when finally, his tongue explored me, probing me. Damon’s hum of satisfaction sent prickles all over my skin.

  “Your ass tastes good,” he murmured, before diving back in, licking into my hole, forcing his tongue deeper into me. I couldn’t keep still. I pushed back, desperate for more. If my hands had been free I would have pushed his face deep into my crack.

  And damn it, Damon knew it. The wry chuckle that echoed was proof. “Yeah, you like that, don’tcha?” He began to alternate between his tongue and his finger, each time pushing deeper inside me. I rocked my hips, taking more of him into me. When he added a second finger, I wanted to cry out in triumph. Yes! More, goddamn it, more. Damon fingered me, first one finger, then two, then back to one, until I was dancing on his fingers, hips jerking. My cock was rigid against my belly, painting it with sticky trails, leaking constantly.

  When two fingers became three, Christ, I felt so fucking stretched.

  Damon had those three fingers wedged deep in my ass, his hand pumping my dick. “Ever thought about being fisted, Pete?” His deep voice dropped even lower.

  Shockwaves ricocheted through me. Oh my fucking God. I froze, but the image was there in my head. Me on my back, Damon between my spread legs, his arm buried up to the wrist in my body. I trembled—no, I fucking shook.

  Instantly those fingers inside me stilled. “Not talking about now,” he said quietly, “but fuck, just the thought of putting my hand inside you makes me so fucking hard.” Slowly he fucked me with his fingers, my hole loosening more with each slow slide. “You an’ me, Pete. Fuck, the things I’d love to do to ya. Things I’ve been waiting to do with ya.”

  My stab of panic had passed. His words were making me hot. Making me want.

  “Christ, you’re hard. You fucking like that idea, don’tcha? Me doing things to ya?” His fingers moved faster, slid deeper, and I trembled with pleasure when he nudged my gland. “There we go.” His voice brimmed with satisfaction and he stroked over my prostate again and again, until my legs felt like brittle glass and my dick leaked copious amounts of pre-cum. “What you thinking about, Pete? What’s your imagination showing ya? Me putting you in my sling and fucking ya? Bending you over my bench and plowing your ass? Or maybe bringing round some of my friends so we can take turns reaming your hole, all night long?”

  Oh Jesus. Jesus. “D-Damon, Christ, what you’re doing to me…”

  He growled, the sound coming from somewhere deep. “Fuck, yeah, Pete. I’ve waited long enough to get you just where I want ya.” I groaned when he pulled his fingers out of me, but my disappointment soon fled when my cheeks were pulled roughly apart and his tongue was pushing at my hole, demanding entrance.

  I tilted my hips, crying out, my voice quavering. “Oh fucking hell, yeah. Don’t stop. Eat my fucking boy pussy!” I let out a brief yip of surprise when he slapped my butt cheek, but thankfully he didn’t stop, just kept right on fucking me with his tongue. I rotated my hips and he let me, darting and flickering his tongue in and out of my hole. My breathing quickened. Wet sounds filled the basement as Damon licked and sucked at my hole, until all I could think about was getting his dick inside me. “Please, Damon, now, fuck me now,” I begged. I howled with frustration when he stopped and began finger-fucking me once more. “For fuck’s sake, Damon, fuck me!” My cock was hard and aching, and I knew I couldn’t take much more. At this rate, I’d come the minute he was inside me.

  Damon gave the head of my cock a thump, the jolt of pain slicing through to my groin and settling in my balls, leaving an uneasy feeling in my gut as I cried out.

  “I thought you needed a little reminder of who’s in charge,” he snapped. I could hear the displeasure rumble in his voice. There was a moment when I knew he’d moved away from me, when I could no longer feel his body heat. Then he was back, and the sound of a foil tearing sent a wave of savage hunger through me. Damon laughed. “Yeah, that got your attention.” He moved closer, until I could feel the heat pouring off him. “You ready to get split open?”

  I was so fucking ready. In that moment I was hyper aware of everything: the shackles binding me to the cross, my legs wide; his hands on my ass, spreading me; his latex-covered dick, slick with lube, sliding through my crack; the feel of his pubic hair against my butt and his hot breath on my neck, his breathing as rapid as mine.

  Damon pressed the head of his cock against my hole and eased it into me. I shuddered, recalling the wide, flared head I’d seen when I’d spied on him. I whimpered when he pulled free of me, only to let out a sigh of pleasure when he entered me once more, this time inching a little farther into me. He repeated this a few times, and each time I could feel my hole relax more and more, until he was sliding deeper into me. “Fuck, your hole just swallows my dick.” He inched all the way into me, until I felt his hips snug against my ass.

  Christ, I felt full. “God, you’ve got a fat dick,” I gasped. I swore I could feel every inch of it inside me, stretching me.

  “That’s it, I’m all the way in.” Damon gripped my hips and began to thrust, slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back into me. He held me in place and filled me with long, slow strokes of his cock, his breathing quickening a little, clearly audible in the quiet basement. “Christ, Pete, your boy-hole was made to be fucked.”

  My face heated up at his coarse words, but I was filled with a sense of pride.

  “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded, picking up speed, his thrusts becoming more fluid as he got into his stride. “Because right now your ass is gripping my cock like a fist.”

  “Feels good,” I blurted out. God, had I ever taken a dick that felt this fucking good? “Feels like you… you’re splitting my ass in two.” Right then Damon shoved into me, hard, and I gasped. “Fuck, you’re deep.” I struggled to breathe evenly. “God, Damon, not sure I can hold it back. All I want right now is for you to pound my ass with that big fucking cock and make me cum.” My whole body ached to cum.

  Damon let go of my hip and tugged at my balls. “No cumming, remember?” He slid into me, moving faster, burying his dick in me. “Forget what I said. You’re fucking tight, and hot, so hot on my cock.” Hips snapping, flesh striking flesh, like a slap. “More. I want to hear more about how it feels.” A brief flare of pain jolted through me when he slapped my ass.

  “Fuck!” I wasn’t about to tell him the truth, that no one had ever fucked me like this. Fuck, why had I wasted my time with twinks, when all the while this fucking hot bear of a man was just next door? “Love it when you’re deep. When you—” The words died on my tongue when Damon grabbed me around the throat and began to fuck me with animalistic abandon, his fingers tightening as his thrusts sped up. The world got a little hazy and sparkly, until I felt sure I was about to pass out. He eased his grip and I gulped in air, my body shaking as he stilled inside me.

  Oh my fucking God. How had he known?

  Damon seized my hair and yanked my head back. “Like that? Did it feel good?” His gaze bored into me. “Yeah, you liked it. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t wanna be fucked like a little queer bitch.”

  I wanted to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.