Page 31 of Badd Love
"No."
"Never had your prostate milked?"
“No?"
"Say yes, Dane. You'll like it, I promise."
I slowed my strokes, pressing my finger against him a little more firmly, waiting for his consent—this wasn't something you just sprung on a guy.
"Linz…"
"Trust me?"
Yes, I'm all too aware of the cruel irony of me asking him to trust me.
"Yes." He whispered it.
"Yeah?" I asked, excited—for him.
I don't do this almost ever, because again, it's something most guys I've hooked up with balk at for obvious reasons. But Dane is different. He didn't just allow me to use my special friend; he used it on me. He's open-minded and willing to play. To experiment.
Fuck, this is bad.
Stupid. So, so stupid.
I'm just confusing myself.
But I can't stop. I don'twantto stop. I want to make him come so hard he forgets his own name. After all, he just made me come three times in less than five minutes, and each orgasm was more intense than the last one, and by the end, I was seeing stars and actually sobbing.
So yeah.
I'm gonna give the guy a handjob for the ages.
Including a little light fingering of his prostate.
I dripped a little saliva onto my fingers and smeared it over him, pressing my fingertip against the opening. I caressed his cock with slow, loose strokes, applying a little more pressure to his asshole with each stroke. Within a few seconds of this, he was arched off the bed, hands fisted in the quilt as he alternated between arching up and dropping down to thrust into my hand, groaning and growling all the while.
I wasn't even inserted. Just you wait, big boy…you're gonnalovethis.
I think.
Now, to be clear, prostate milking is a whole actual thing, and a very specific thing, and what I was doing to Dane wasn't really that. I was just playing with his back door a little while giving him a handy. Still, I had it on good authority that thisgreatlyincreases the intensity of his climax.
He seemed to agree, based on the way he was reacting—eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, gasping raggedly and shaking all over as he bucked into my hand, desperately riding the edge of orgasm.
Now for the really fun part.
I circled his cock at the base with my index finger and then squeezed—hard. He grunted, doing an ab crunch to give me awhat the fucklook—which is when I slid my fingertip inside him, just a hint.
Enough that he shouted: "Oh—FUCK!"
“Yeah?" I murmured. "You like that?"
"I…I don't—Oh fuck, oh god. Maybe? I think?" He was squirming and writhing helplessly, like a worm on a hook. "Oh fuck—I need to come, Linz."
"Oh, honey-boy, you will. And I expect you to scream my name when you do."
I loosened my grip on his cock a little and he gasped when I gave him one slow caress of his pulsing hot length, the gasp becoming a ragged groan as I gripped him tightly once more and wiggled my fingertip a little further in. He tensed all over.
