Page 32 of Caged By the Stranger
The rest of my plea won’t form on my lips. I’m lucky I even got that much out.
“What do you need, Charlie?” His words vibrate against my hole.
His thumbs dig into the meat of my hips, thrusting me back against his mouth as soon as the words are out. This time, it’s not his lips that greet me, but the tip of a slippery, wet tongue.
“T-to come.Ineedtocome. N-now!”
The flexible muscle presses forward, slipping its way past my ring. It’s soft and foreign, warm. So unlike how my finger felt. I gasp at the way it fits with ease, expanding me ever so slightly, filling me when he dives so deep, I can feel his jaw press against my taint.
I’m so confused. Completely bewildered. That’s not what I meant, but he didn’t ask what Iwanted, rather what Ineeded. Iwantedto stop before I passed out. What Ineedis entirely different, and I answered truthfully.
I have a tongue in my ass. Rory’s tongue. With each slide and wicked lick inside my channel, a shiver shoots up my spine andmakes my legs quake with more fervor. The surreal part is that it seems like I’ve reached a higher plane. One where I think it might actually be possible for me to come. Either that or passing out is truly more imminent than before.
Groaning, I reach for my cock on instinct, but whimper when my palm connects with the metal of the cage. I settle for making tiny strokes to my flesh between the rings with my thumb. It’s not enough, though. With each of Rory’s delves inside me, he grazes my prostate, but it’s just a tease. Light tickles from that soft tongue that aren’t enough pressure. I have no idea how much is enough pressure on my prostate to make me come in a cage, but intuition tells me if I could just get a little more, I might be able to get myself out of this blissful misery that’s turned me into a babbling mess.
I thrust back without thinking. His jaw stabs me below my entrance, making it clear I essentially just jacked him in the face with my taint. But it’s not enough. All it produced was another of those teasing grazes to my gland. I groan in misery. If I had my razor, maybe the combination of the pressure and the vibration would be enough. God, I’m never going to come again. Am I?
“I can’t.” The words come out weepy.
His tongue retracts, pulling another sobbing sound from my lips. I hate this. I hate my life. I hate my cock. Hate my prostate. Hate my kink that got me into this mess.
Rory’s palm comes up and rubs a circle over my back. “Don’t worry, handsome. I’ve got you.”
I dangle on that reassurance, an odd bit of comfort. There’s aflicksound, and then cool liquid dribbles down my seam. It’s a rude awakening to the hot, wet heat that was just there. I suck in a breath through my teeth and shiver.
“Sorry,” he murmurs as two fingers swoop down between my cheeks, catching the liquid like he’s coating them. “If we were at my house in Northwest Heights, I’d have used my Chineseoil warmer,” he says casually, turning his hand and running two fingertips up to my ring. “I can set it to body temperature, so the oil feels perfect when you get it inside you.”
Inside you?The words have my gland reverberating in anticipation even as a sliver of worry runs down my spine. I think I knew that was his plan the second he coated his fingers earlier, but my pride opted for convenient denial.
Something about him makes me want to…try new things. I think it’s the real reason he ruffles me. And he does just that, slipping his index finger through my ring without any warning.
I’ll give him credit—he does it slowly, gently. But it’s still a shock. He’s only the second person besides me to have put a finger inside me.
“Breathe,” he whispers, rubbing my side with his other hand.
I listen. I don’t like that I listen so freely. How did we get to this place where I do what he asks me to and…enjoy it?
I make to protest, some kind of sound to let him know that he’s not in charge of me, but all that comes out is a moan. When his finger rubs my gland, the moan unfolds into something deeper and throatier. He traces around that bundle of nerves inside me, stealing my breath. It sends a wave of heat down my legs, a telling sign that usually happens right before I come. But this time…it doesn’t come.Idon’t come.
I groan in frustration. What is wrong with me? He said he came in a cage plenty of times. Am I broken?
“So greedy,” he whispers, leaning over me and planting a hand on the bed next to mine.
I turn my head in shame. As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.
His lips dust my ear, and he makes a chiding sound. “No, don’t be embarrassed. I love it. I love how greedy you are.”
There’s pressure on my ring, expanding it. I blink through the darkness, trying to make sense of the change. The next thing Iknow, I’m fuller. Full of Rory’s fingers. He added a second and…it should not be so satisfying.
When my college fuckbuddy suggested we try switching once, it sold me on the idea that ass play was not my thing. He’d unceremoniously spit on my hole and then tried nudging his cockhead slowly inside. My nerves and being exposed like that for the first time were already enough, but the burn that ensued told me pleasure wasnotgoing to be the outcome, so I called it off.
Maybe I wasn’t relaxed enough. Maybe he was just the wrong person, or I wasn’t ready. I don’t understand how Rory can be the right person, and I certainly wouldn’t say I was ready now, having thought nothing of it in all these years. However, I’m suddenly aware of just how relaxed I am. Despite all my verbal and internal bitching, I…there’s something about Rory. Something I don’t exactly hate. His voice, his gentle, warm touches—they calm my body into a pliable mess of compliance. My cynical mind may not trust him, but my body certainly seems to.
I stay poised on my hands and knees, immobile. Mouth hanging open, my jaw has lost the ability to move. A series of moans and hot breaths flood past my lips as he fucks me with those two slippery fingers, tapping my gland on each insertion.
Another wave of heat doubles down, rippling over the last. My God, it feels like my lower half is on fire. My cock starts bobbing like it’s at rave. My balls feel like granite. I’m pretty sure they’re going to crack.
This is it. The moment I finally pass out. I cry out a roar of anguish, at least grateful that I’ll meet the darkness in this haze of unrelenting bliss. Rory’s lips attack the place behind my ear, sucking violently at the tender skin there as he groans with me. It unlocks something deep in my groin, right behind my nuts, as the blackness is peppered with tiny spots of light in my vision.
