Page 162 of Seasons of Love
I reach for my dick because it all feels so good and I need more. I also discreetly reposition the bottle so it’s in a better position.
I’m not cheating myself out of an orgasm.
“I saw that,” he says, grabbing the bottle and squirting a good amount of lube on his fingers and some directly on my hole.
“Shit.”
He comes up to kiss me, but his hand stays put, with his finger gently massaging my rim.
“Afraid I won’t let you come?” he asks, kissing my jaw.
His finger presses harder on my hole, and I relax to let it in. Once it’s in, he crooks it, finding my prostate straight away. My body convulses, and I have to hold on to Milo and think of rotten food, sports, or something to stop myself from coming too soon.
“Not anymore. You keep doing that, and I’ll come before your dick is in me.”
I turn my face to kiss him, and he swallows every moan I let out while he’s opening me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Please, Milo.”
He sits back, and I watch his face as he lines up his cock with my hole. The look of concentration and self-restraint tells me we’re so much on the same page.
Milo has a decent-size cock, so it takes a few tries until he’s able to release his hand and just use his hips to push through.
“God, you feel so big,” I say.
“You can take me, Ellis. Just relax a little, baby.”
Our eyes meet when he uses the term of endearment, and for a split second, I see the old Milo back. Unsure if what he said was okay or afraid of how I might react. I just kiss him and wrap my legs around his waist.
He responds to my kiss, pushing forward and settling more of his body weight on me.
Before long, he’s fully seated inside me.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Tell me when I can move,” he says.
His balls are resting against my ass. My cock is hard and trapped between us. Sweat runs down his brow, and I know we’re both hanging by a thread.
“Move, Milo. Give me everything you have. Show me how much you want me. Make me forget everything else.”
“Fuuuck.” He pulls back a little and pushes in.
I gasp, and he does it again and again until he’s practically fully withdrawing his cock before slamming into me again.
Every other time he does it, he changes the angle so he’s hitting my prostate.
“I’m close, baby,” he says without stopping. I take my cock and stroke it until I’m on edge.
My orgasm builds until it’s right on the crest. I know I don’t need anything else other than Milo.
“I’m ready, Milo. Do it.”
He rests his face in the crook of my neck and his moves become jerkier, less refined and controlled. I feel his moans against my skin and have to pull the other pillow onto my face.
We’re practically glued to one another. The only part of him that moves are his hips as he nails me faster and harder, seeking his relief.
I come without needing to touch myself. An orgasm so strong that I bite the pillow.
