"Too much?" Ezra asked, his voice thick with arousal.
"No, yes, I don't... I can't... please don't stop," I gasped, the words tumbling out, barely intelligible under the weight of sensation. The vibrator pressed mercilessly against that inner spot, each pulse unraveling my thoughts.
"Focus, sweet boy. Come back to me," Ezra said gently, guiding my head to his chest. "Here. Let this help ground you."
I latched onto his nipple, desperate for an anchor. The rhythm of suckling steadied me, just enough to keep me from slipping under. The taste, the warmth, the familiarity of it helped me hold on.
"That’s it," he praised, and began moving the toy in shallow thrusts. "I’m going to fuck you with this now. Let your body learn how to receive."
Each push coaxed new sparks from my core, spreading outward like fire through dry grass. My cock lay flush against my belly, hard and pulsing, untouched but desperate.
"Touch yourself," Ezra said, one hand stroking my hair. "Show me how you find pleasure. There’s nothing dirty in what feels good."
My hand trembled as I reached for my cock. The old voices hissed in the back of my mind, whispering shame.
"Touch your cock for Daddy," he said again, more firmly now. The warmth in his voice didn’t soften the command. "Let me see you take pleasure while I'm inside you. Be a good boy and show me."
The gentle command in his voice sent a shiver through me. I wrapped my hand around my cock, and the jolt of sensation made me sob into his skin. I stroked in rhythm with the toy inside me, my mouth still latched to his nipple like it was the only thing keeping me tethered.
“Beautiful,” Ezra murmured, pushing the vibrator deeper. “This toy is smaller than my cock. When I finally take you, you’ll be stretched even more.”
The thought made my hips jerk. I couldn’t imagine more than what was already inside me, couldn’t picture taking something larger, but the way he said it—like a promise, not a threat—made me want it anyway.
“Don’t worry,” he added, his hand stroking my back. “I’ll make sure you’re ready. I’ll train your body until taking me feels as natural as breathing. And when I slide in, you’ll feel pleasure no toy could ever give.”
He twisted the vibrator slightly, changing the angle, and I cried out. The pressure against that sacred spot inside me made my vision go white. My fist moved faster, slick with pre-cum, the shame drowned out by need.
“That’s it,” Ezra said, voice thick. “When I finally fuck you, I’ll hit that place over and over. I’ll fill you so deep you’ll forget how to be empty.”
I shifted against him, and my thigh brushed his cock. The weight and heat of it made my breath catch. I pulled away from his chest, gaze dropping. It stood rigid against his stomach, flushed and leaking, more real than I’d dared to imagine.
“Can I touch you?” I asked, surprising even myself.
His voice broke when he answered. “Yes. Show me.”
My hand trembled as I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, marveling at the heat radiating from his skin, the velvet hardness beneath. The sharp intake of his breath at my touch filled me with unexpected confidence.
"Like this?" I asked, stroking experimentally.
"Just like that," he murmured, his hips lifting to meet my hand. "Touch yourself too. I want to watch you pleasure us both."
The dual act of stroking him while touching myself created a live wire between us. The vibrator hummed deep inside me as my hand moved over his length, building a rhythm that made his breathing turn ragged.
"That's it," he said, voice strained. "See how hard you make me? How much I want you?"
His words sent another wave of heat flooding through me. For the first time, I wasn’t just receiving pleasure; I was giving it. Watching his carefully composed exterior begin to unravel under my touch felt intoxicating.
I returned to his nipple, this time giving it gentle, attentive licks. His hips began to move with urgency, pushing up into my grip, and his breathing grew ragged.
"Do you want Daddy’s cum?" he asked, his voice tight with restraint. "Tell me you want it."
The question made something hot inside me flare. He was still in control, but by asking, he handed the moment to me.
"Yes," I gasped, releasing his nipple just long enough to speak. "Please. I want it."
Power surged through me. I was the one doing this to him, undoing him. His breathing quickened, his muscles tensed beneath my hands, and for once, I wasn’t the one unraveling.
When he came with a low growl, his release spilled hot over my fingers. It was the first time I had ever brought someone else to climax. The sight rooted me in place—his head tipped back, throat exposed, eyes closed in surrender. His face, so often composed and unreadable, now bared the raw truth of the pleasure I had given him. Thick ropes of white painted my handand wrist, not as something shameful, but as a kind of sacred anointing.
