It’s obvious by the way he moves to get comfortable between my legs that he has every intention of dragging this out.
The first swipe of his tongue across the pulsing head of my cock sends a shiver down my spine. The second is even more torturous. By the time he sucks me into his mouth, I’m dying.
He’s in no rush, but I am. It doesn’t take long for me to reach the breaking point.
I moan against his hand, and he looks up at me. Finally, he takes his hand away, only to sit up and suck a finger into his mouth.
“Legs up.”
I mumble something so unintelligible even I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Probably a mix of fuck yes and oh my God, hurry up.
I flatten my feet on the bed and widen my thighs. I’m practically trembling when he presses his finger against my hole. He pushes in as he lowers his head again and sucks me in as far as he can.
I want to give in to the urge to cup his head so I can fuck his face, but I don’t want to test my boundaries. It’s a new type of loss of control for me, and my body is loving every moment of it.
But I need release.
I don’t know how long he sucks and teases me, but he seems to be an expert at getting me close only to change technique and bring me back from the edge.
“Haven’t you had enough yet?” I ask.
Harley pulls off with a small laugh. “Have you?”
“I’m so far past that I’m dying.”
“Dying? Really? And you think pop stars are dramatic.”
I go to say something smartassy back, but before I can think of words, Harley adds a second finger and pushes against my prostate.
My body tenses, and it’s all over.
Harley’s mouth covers my cock just in time for the first spurts of cum to hit his tongue.
“Mmm,” he hums, and I can no longer hold myself back.
I thrust up into his mouth over and over again, finally moving one of my hands from above my head to weave it into his hair.
I come down his throat, convulsing and shuddering through an intense orgasm.
I’m panting when he pulls off me, and I match his smile. His looks a lot more mischievous than the sated one I’m throwing his way.
“Roll over,” he says.
“W-what?”
“Now I’m going to fuck you.”
“Now? Not even gonna give me five minutes to recover?”
“Five minutes? Impressive refractory period.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about getting it up again. I just mean to catch my fucking breath after coming so hard. I’ll be lucky to get hard again at all.”
Harley looks proud as he climbs off the bed. He’s still completely clothed. “You have one minute for me to get undressed and grab a condom.”
“No condom,” I rasp. “We don’t need it.”
“I trust you.” Harley goes to his bedside drawer to pull out lube.
I can’t do anything but watch him. My muscles are broken.
“I don’t see you rolling over.” Harley pulls off his shirt.
“Can’t,” I breathe, my gaze locked on his pants as he drops them to the floor along with his underwear.
His cock springs free, long and thin, and my mouth waters. I don’t know what I want more: my mouth on him again or him in my ass.
As he lubes up, it’s decided. Definitely ass. Lube tastes gross.
He stands at the foot of the bed. “Minute’s up.”
I roll over and hold myself up on my hands and knees despite my muscles aching.
When Harley dribbles lube into my crack and preps me open enough to take him, my dick tries to get hard again but can’t quite manage it. Every pass across my prostate teases and tortures me. I’m completely spent, but I want more anyway.
“Think you got another one in you?” Harley asks.
“Why don’t you stop fingering me and hurry up with the fucking and find out?”
“You ready enough?”
“Enough,” I choke out.
“I don’t come until you do again.”
“Shit, no pressure.”
“Get yourself hard for me.”
At his order, my hand practically flies to my cock. As I stroke myself hard and fast, Harley slams inside me.
We let out a collective moan, and my dick finally perks up a little.
“Do it again,” I say.
“Sorry, what? Sounds like you just gave me an order, but that can’t be right.”
His words are as good as another hit against my prostate.
I’m sweaty, I’m trembling, and I’m on the brink of collapsing, but I want to do this for him. I want to come again.