One hand worked beneath his hips until I encountered his cock. To my delight, it was almost fully filled out.
“That’s what I thought,” I continued aloud. “Feels good to give yourself to me, even when you don’t like the sensations.”
Abruptly I crouched down and relocated both hands to his ass. With no other warning, I spread his cheeks apart, exposed the tiny dark portal burrowed between them, and leaned in to lick it.
Immediately Julian’s body went stiff. His face hid against the mattress and his breathing sped up, but he hadn’t set any limits for the use of his delectable backside, and he made no verbal protest. I’d never gotten to do this before; he enjoyed rimming Avery or me on occasion, but he’d always avoided receiving. Arguably, having someone’s mouth where shit comes out of your intestines is even more intimate than being fingered or fucked there. My theory was it embarrassed him, which made it an ideal activity for today’s session.
I kept tonguing him for a while — soft, wet swipes over his sensitive ring. Sometimes I ventured a little higher, along his cleft, and sometimes a little lower, to the disproportionately provocative region of the perineum. Other times I pressed his pucker open just a bit, teasing and pleasing all those buried nerve endings. He was careful not to release any sounds. Yet maneuvering a hand under him again confirmed that his untouched erection was much harder than before. And a glance toward Avery found his features etched with lust, his fist sliding over his own solid shaft.
When I was satisfied with my work, I replaced my tongue with a finger — just tantalizing Julian’s entrance without going inside. I’d demonstrated my partner’s vulnerability. It was time to get to the crux of this lesson.
“Who does this belong to, Julian?” I asked in a knowing inflection.
“You,” he managed, face still hidden between his arms.
I swirled my saliva in the center of his private crevice, keeping him constantly on alert for sudden impalement. “And what is your role this evening?”
His head turned a little so he could speak more clearly. “To…accept whatever you give me.”
“That’s right.” I removed my finger — I’d be using a different instrument in there — but continued the quiz. “Tell me why we’re doing this scene.” Multiple answers could be correct, and I wanted to hear his.
A brief pause preceded his response. “Because Avery wants me to trust you.”
“Ok.” It kind of stung that he still thought of this as something he was doing for his husband, not for me or for himself. “What’s my reason?”
Another quiet moment, maybe so he could sort through the many instructions I’d issued. “To get me to surrender completely.”
With my clean hand, I stroked the lines of ink across his back. “That’s my goal,” I agreed. “But what did I say is the single reason for everything we’re doing tonight?”
It took longer for him to answer that one, and his voice was lower. “That you love me.”
I didn’t think he’d ever spoken those words before, and it rose an unexpected pang in my chest. “Yes,” I confirmed softly. “Remember that.”
I got up, rinsed my mouth, and washed my hands. Then I knelt on the bed and generously lubed my manhood, which was rock-solid and ready for action. I drizzled more oil onto Julian’s hole for extra insurance.
Moving into position above him, I started feeding myself into his tight chamber, and he probably expected me to take it slowly like I always had, allowing him a chance to adjust to each half-inch before carefully sliding further. But I didn’t. I advanced my shaft at an aggressive pace — not so much that it would actually cause damage, but definitely beyond what would be pleasant for him, especially since I hadn’t used my fingers or provided him any opportunity to prepare for my rather considerable girth.
I could feel him start struggling beneath me — shifting in a useless attempt to reduce the pressure; wincing with the sharp cramps as my rod pushed against tight muscles he couldn’t consciously loosen. Spurring his lungs to a more urgent tempo as he realized I wasn’t going to stop. I rocked in and out, not violent but relentless: forcing him open and viscerally demonstrating that there was no way to escape the invasion of his most intimate place.
report “Graham –” he huffed first, but I ignored him.
He grew more agitated, pulling against his ropes while I thrust in deeper and claimed more of his channel.
“It’s too fast –” he tried next.
“I know it’s fast,” I said calmly, continuing to skewer him at the same challenging pace. “But you can take me. Just relax. Let me in.”
He didn’t relax. More broken words came out of him as his distress escalated. I’d had partners before who liked to play rough, so I had a fairly accurate idea of what was possible when it came to anal intercourse. Not to suggest that everyone’s anatomy and physiology aren’t unique, or that what works for one person would necessarily work for another. I knew Julian well, though, and in this case, I strongly suspected it was the lack of control, not the penetration itself, that was bothering him. Which is exactly why I was pushing it.
I sensed Avery getting upset too, so I paused with my cock still mostly embedded in Julian’s ass and smoothed my palm down his back. “Hey. Take a breath. What did we just talk about? What you feel in this session is my decision. Your job is to accept.”
He complied at least enough to pull in a long, labored lungful, but Avery’s angry voice interrupted.
“You’re hurting him, Graham.”
“I’m making him uncomfortable, but I’m not harming him,” I countered. “You wanted him to submit to me. That’s only effective when it isn’t something he would have chosen for himself.”
His retort was heated. “Well you could at least choose something that’s less like rape.”
“Avery, I’m choosing what I think will get the results we all want. You have to trust me too.” I stroked along Julian’s spine again, offering consolation while my cock continued holding his anus wide open. “If he needs to stop, he will tell us.”
The respite seemed to have restored some of Julian’s sense of safety. “It’s ok, Avery,” he said, a bit strained due to his current situation, but no longer sounding upset. “I — I want to let Graham do this.”
My younger partner still looked resentful, but he didn’t say anything else, so I refocused on the man beneath me. I speared deliberately into Julian’s hole several more times, and his nonverbal response was subtly different: alongside the physical discomfort were the telltale signs of rekindling desire.
“That’s right, Julian,” I crooned, continuing to press my unyielding steel into the perfect sheath of his body. “Your ass belongs to me right now. Let me use it the way I want. I’m gonna fuck you a little too hard, and a little too fast. I bet you’ll be sore tomorrow. But you’re gonna give me all the pleasure I want to take.”
That earned me an actual groan — lust, not pain — which sent joy into my genitals. Once I’d bottomed out, I stayed there for a few moments, emphasizing my right to fill him. But instead of starting up a rhythm, I pulled all the way out so I could breach his trapped hole from the outside again: slow but insistent, forcing him to repeat the process of stretching around me. Then I added oil and did it again. And again.