Page 57 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
“You’re being so nice and patient, babe,” he murmurs into my ear. “Just a little longer.”
I legit whimper when he stops playing with my nipples and uses both hands to peel my underwear down, without actually touching my dick, of course. He drags the briefs down to my ankles and leaves them there. I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff, seconds from tipping over into free fall.
Jason’s warm hands clasp around my ankles, steadying me, but the sensation only increases when he trails his fingers up my shins, circles around my kneecaps, then strokes up my thighs to my hips. He squeezes my hips and kneads my glute muscles, then traces a finger from the base of my spine down my crack. My legs quiver and my hands shake.
“Jason,” I groan. “I can’t stand any more.” I mean it literally. I’m swaying on my feet and my knees are about to buckle.
“Oh, I have faith in you, Victor.” His voice is muffled because he’s planting kisses just above the swell of my ass in between each word. His hands grip my hips and I tighten my quads and draw up the tops of my knees, the way I do to stabilize myself in adho mukha svanasana when I’m on the yoga mat.
“Please, Jason.” I’m begging now. I’m desperate for him to touch me, fill me, press his weight on me, to keep me from falling over, or flying away.
“All right, babe.” He gets to his feet, untwists my shirt from my wrists and lets it fall to the floor. Then he helps me step out of my slacks and underwear. I stagger to the bed and flop face-first onto it, but turn over immediately because I want to see his face when he fucks me.
I grab a pillow and wedge it under myself, then plant my feet wide apart. I gesture to the lube on the nightstand. “Do you want me to prep myself or do you want to do it?”
Jason’s reply is swift. “I’ll do it.” He grabs the lube bottle and flips the lid open. “Put your arms over your head and hold on to the headboard.”
Conveniently, the headboard has vertical rails I can thread my hands through and grasp. Jason waits until I’ve done so and then knees up on the bed in between my legs. “I’d kind of like to blindfold you but I don’t feel like trying to find something to use right now. Can I trust you to keep your eyes closed?”
I promptly shut my eyes. “Yeah.” I’ll do anything he wants, any way he wants me to.
“Tell me how you want me to start.” There’s a cool, wet nudge against my hole and I take a deep breath in, then breathe out slowly to relax.
“Start with one finger or your thumb and I’ll tell you when I’m ready for more.”
“Got it.” Jason elects to use his thumb. I can tell because his fingers unfold over my balls, cupping them in his warm palm. God, that already feels amazing. He rubs the pad of his thumb against my hole and it’s slick and perfect.
Twenty-Seven
Jason
The next time Victor exhales, I press my thumb against his entrance and keep pressing until it slips inside.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Just like that.”
I watch his face for any sign of discomfort while I press slowly into him as far as I can go. His eyes are moving under his closed lids but he has a soft smile on his face. I keep my thumb still and roll my fingers over his balls. He’s tight around my thumb and so warm.
When his hips lift a bit off the pillow underneath him, I take that as a sign to slowly withdraw my thumb until only the tip is inside him, then press forward again. It only takes a few gentle pushes before he loosens up a little. I keep fondling his balls while fingering—thumbing?—him and his breath starts coming a little faster.
On the next push in, I press upward with my thumb and Victor sucks in a hard breath, then groans.
“More?” I ask.
“Yes, please. Two fingers now.” The muscles in his arms stand out as his hands flex and grip the headboard. He’s keeping his eyes closed still, though.
I withdraw my thumb, coat my first two fingers with more lube, and smear another dollop around his hole. His cock jumps and a bead of fluid wells up and slides down his length. When I position my fingers against his entrance, there’s more resistance, but Victor sighs and I slowly push inside.
When I can go no further, I lever myself up with my other hand and drape myself over Victor’s body. I plant my forearm on the outside of his arm, both still holding onto the headboard. “How did I know this would be so good?” I murmur into his ear.
My thighs are wedged between his, one of them providing added leverage behind the fingers inside him, and his cock is a hard length between us.
“Fuck me and see how much better it gets,” Victor says. He turns his head and kisses the first part of my face his lips touch. I catch his lips and thrust my tongue into his mouth while stroking over and over his prostate. Victor kisses back just as vigorously.
Until he breaks it off and turns his face into my neck, gasping. His arms are shaking, the headboard rattling in his hands, and his body shudders. I step up the pace of my massaging fingers. “That’s it, babe. Come for me.”
“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Jason, please. Don’t make me come like this.”
I slow my fingers down. “No? How would you rather I make you come?”
