Page 72 of The Frathole

Hearing him call me Ry while I’ve got my finger buried inside him is deeply satisfying.

As his body relaxes, adjusting to me, he says, “You can try another finger.”

I don’t love the idea of getting off this spot—not when I know the power it gives me over him—but if one finger against it is making him do this much, maybe two will show me another side of his pleasure that’ll excite me that much more. I pull out enough so I can work my middle finger in with my forefinger, steadily creeping back until I’m against his prostate again.

“Don’t hate me nearly as much when I’m in charge of your pleasure, do you?” I ask.

“I hate you just fine,” he teases with a smile until I hit that spot again. There’s that slight shift of his upper body again as he gasps and it turns into a moan, which hits my ear just right.

“Mmmm,” I say. “You’re making me feel like I’m already a pro.”

“Jesus Christ, like that. Whatever you’re doing. Keep doing that.”

It’s as though he can’t help but beg for more. He’s left behind all the worries and stress and is absorbed in what I’m doing to his body.

I run my fingers in light circles around his prostate, occasionally lifting off enough to ease the pressure, but clearly it’s doing what it needs to. As I work it out, his ass loosens up even more for my fingers, as though his body is welcoming whatever is giving him somuch pleasure.

“Loving me being in control?” I say. “Tending to your needs?” I love it too, especially as another bead of precum leaks from his cock.

“Ryan, I think I’m ready…”

“You sure? I don’t want to move too fast.”

He angles his head so he can make eye contact, nodding. “Let’s do it. Please.”

I don’t want to pull out of him when I know what I’m doing to his body, but after exploring this much, the idea of having my cock in him, working him up like this, is more than I can resist.

“One last rub,” I warn before generously offering it, watching him twist up, ease into my touch once more, before I’m steadily pulling out of him.

I rise on my knees, crawl over him, and retrieve the condom on the bed, which is already torn open.

“Is this one good?” I ask.

“Yeah, the wrapper tore when I was tearing it off the strip.”

“You’re not trying to get a baby out of me, are you?”

“Trust me, I have no interest in having any of your asshole babies,” he jokes.

I can tell from that smile how much more relaxed he is, not only for tonight, but than I usually see him.

“You know, for a guy who’s always tense as hell, you sure know how to enjoy yourself.”

He’s grinning as he says, “It’d take a lot of effort for me not to enjoy that.”

“Makes me eager to see how much you’ll enjoy my cock.”

I ready myself with the condom, and Marty grabs the lube, passing it to me.

“So how do you want to take me?” I ask. “I’ve read it can be better—”

“If I ride you,” he finishes for me. “Yeah, I read that too, but I just know if I’m on my knees and trying to be the one getting it in, that’s gonna stress me the hell out. You want to try missionary and see what happens? Seemed to work fine with your fingers.”

That stirs something in me—this deep, primal desire. I don’t know why it feels so good, the thought of dominating him like this, claiming his ass with him under me.

“I’m sure I’ll be good however I do it. Feel like you’re lucky to take me.”

I can tell he’s fighting a glare, but he can’t fight back the curl in his lips. And I’m glad because I said it to keep things light. This isn’t the time Marty needs to be stressing about anything.