Page 46 of Fibre and Ink

“Lay down on your back, so I can get these pants off you,” I murmured.

Mickey lay back, pulling me with him so he could kiss me again.

I made short work of the rest of our clothes, tossing them aside. I encouraged Mickey to hitch his knees up.

I grabbed the lube from my bag and started working him over. I was impatient to get going but my main priority was to make Mickey feel amazing.

Slow and steady was the order of the night. I used first one finger, relaxing him and stretching him, and then a second, listening hard for what noises he was making to know how to pace myself.

“Aster, oh fuck...” he moaned as I stretched the tight ring of muscle with my two fingers.

“Yeah? That feels good, huh? Keep talking.”

“Feels so good...” He rocked his hips, encouraging me to go deeper. I pressed my cheek against his inner thigh. “Can I lick you?”

“Oh god, Aster, please!”

I smirked, loving the desperation in his voice. I leaned in and licked a stripe up his dick. Rewarded with a deeper moan and his chest rising quicker, I licked my way back down again.

I fingered him at a lazy pace, pumping my fingers in and out to continue stretching him as I took him deep in my mouth.

It wasn’t long at all before I could add another finger.

Mickey’s hand found my hair and he was pulling gently on it, which had me even more horny for him.

When I felt him tense I pulled back, licking the tip of him like an ice cream before I sat up, panting. “I wanna fuck you now.” My voice was almost slurred, like I’d had a few drinks.

Mickey nodded, his eyes hooded and his mouth open, panting. “Please.”

“Okay. I gotta stand.” Reluctantly, I removed myself from between his legs and grabbed the leather strap harness I used for my strap-on. It was black leather with silver hardware and little studs here and there. Maybe a bit much, but hey — I’m a drag king. I’m always a bit much.

I fastened the harness around my waist and thighs, checking it was secure before grabbing my dildo to slip it into the ring.

Mickey watched with interest. For once, I didn’t feel embarrassed that this was a step I needed to take. Other times, my lovers had complained that I was slowing things down when I attached my strap on, or they laughingly quipped that I wasn’t a real man and couldn’t understand why a comment like that killed the mood.

Mickey’s expression was ravenous. Like he was watching porn or something. He’d actually gone up on his elbows to see better. If there was a hotter image than Mickey stretched open and ready for me, looking at me like that? I’d never found it.

“That’s hot as hell,” he said.

“I was gonna say the same about you.” I lubed my silicon dick and advanced on him. “You wanna be on your back or your front.” “Back,” he said, instantly. “I want to watch your face.”

“I knew there was a greedy slut in there,” I joked, gently, and moved between his legs. “Open wide.”

He let his legs splay apart and I pressed my dick against him with one hand, pushing gently so as not to hurt him.

“Maybe you’re the only one who brings it out of me,” Mickey moaned, reaching for me.

“Maybe I am.” The idea that this was just for me was way too thrilling. “Ready for more?”

Mickey nodded and I pushed inside him. Strap-ons are funny things, because you can’t feel the shaft, but there’s a surprising amount of feedback from the way they move against you, from the way you move your hips. I groaned as the base of the dildo ground against my clit.

“Oh god, Mickey, you...” Whatever I’d meant to say was lost, my words trailing out as I watched his face.

He loved it.

I wasn’t imagining it. He was honestly, genuinely, loving being on my dick.

“Please, move!”