Page 45 of C is for Comfort

“I need you so bad,” I whine because his finger really isn’t enough. Yet even as I say the words, I rock my hips faster and harder, desperate for release.

“You really do need to be fucked, don’t you?” Spence asks.

“Yes, Daddy, so bad.”

Until I met Spence at the party, I’d gone months without having sex. Now it’s like I’m making up for lost time. There’s a need deep within me that can only be sated by having his cock up my arse and by the intoxicating scent of sweat and cum.

“I need you. Please fuck me.”

He teases me with another finger. I grunt as I keep up my see-saw motion. I’m doing all the work now. His hands are still. I’m working up a sweat and getting out of breath, but this is the best kind of exercise.

“Daddy,please,” I whine. I could come like this, but it won’t be as good.

“Stop.”

I freeze, my chest heaving as I catch my breath.

“Don’t move, sweet boy.”

He lets me go and leaves me. I don’t move. I stay exactly where I am, hands clutching the back of the armchair, legs shaking, cock dripping pre-cum onto the laminate flooring. I stare at the chair, focusing on the weft and weave of the bright fabric. I glance up at the space above the TV, which is still empty. How long will the print take to arrive? Did he even order it? My tie hangs over the back of the chair. My shirt is still pushed up over my back. I feel vulnerable as I wait and so needy. My arse pulses with anticipation. I hear his footsteps on the laminate but don’t sneak a peek over my shoulder.

“Do you still want me?” Spence asks.

“Oh, yes, Daddy, so, so much.”

His hands grasp my hips, his fingers finding the bruises he made on Saturday night. I whimper slightly at the sting of pain and then thrust my hips back in desperate search of his cock.

“You promised to wreck my arse,” I remind him.

He chuckles. “So I did.”

I feel the head of his cock against my entrance.

“I’m wearing a condom. Do you want to check?”

I shake my head. I trust him. That might be crazy, but he wouldn’t have invited me to look if he hadn’t gloved up.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

He pushes inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut as he forces his way through the tight ring of muscles. I should have let him warm me up more, but fuck, I like the burn as he buries his cock deeper and deeper inside me.

“Daddy,” I whimper.

“Fuck yourself,” he hisses into my ear.

“But—“

Riding his finger is one thing, but he’s the Dom. He’s the one who’s meant to be in charge. But he is, I realise. He’s commanding me to fuck myself, and he’ll command me to stop when he wants to take over. I obey, my body his to command. I fuck myself so hard I make my eyes water, my arse slapping back against his groin and hips. My cock bounces and hits my stomach, smearing pre-cum onto my skin. I’m soaking and shaking, my breath rasping out of my throat. He grabs my cock again, keeping his hand still so I’m fucking his cock and ramming my own back and forth through his fist. I arch my back to feel him deeper.

“Oh, god, Daddy.”

My heart is pounding, and the room is spinning. My arse muscles clench and throb around his cock. My dick jumps in his hand. I groan as I come all over his fist. He takes over, thrusting, slamming into me as I pant and shake. It doesn’t take him long to come. His cock pulses inside me, and he lies over my back, panting just as heavily as I am.

We stay there for a while, his cock softening inside me. But soon, my back starts to ache, and I let out a pained moan. He stands, gently pulls free of me, and helps me stand. I use the chair to support me while he fetches a cloth to clean me up. Then he pulls my underwear and trousers up, turns me around and tucks my shirt back in.

“There,” he says, straightening my tie. “You look all presentable again, sweet boy. No one would ever guess you’ve just been fucked over the back of a chair.”

I laugh wearily. “Except I’m sweaty, and my face is probably bright red.”