Page 23 of Vesper Martinis

Fuck. Yes.

I set aside the condom for a moment and open the bottle of lube. I put some on my finger and warm it as I run my other hand over Wesley’s abdomen. My fingers trail across the V on his hips, and I can’t stop myself from leaning and licking them.

“Hmmm,” Wesley hums, and that’s when I start rubbing my fingers against his asshole.

I lean up and watch his face as I slowly circle my fingers around the rim.

“Have you had anyone else’s fingers play with this tight hole since me?” I ask as I slowly push in.

“No,” he says in a gasp. “O-only me.”

He blushes as if embarrassed, but it only turns me on more. The thought of him fucking his own ass has my cock dripping with pre-cum. I really hope I last once I’m inside of him. I want to give him my best, so I take a few calming breaths as I sink my finger deeper inside his warm hole.

“Hmm, you like to play with my little hole, Boy? " Wesley whimpers as I push another finger in and start stretching him out, brushing against his prostate, making him undulate his hips.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Yes. I-I like to play with it,” he moans. His admission makes me smile, and I reward him with a kiss against his chest.

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I like this pretty thing, too. I’ve been aching to feel you clench around me.”

Pre-cum drips out of Wesley’s cock. It’s hard as a rock, angry and red.

I fuck his ass with my fingers as he pants below me. His eyes are squeezed shut, and I can tell he’s trying not to come.

“When’s the last time you played with yourself? Tell me about it,” I ask.

He opens his eyes, and something gets caught in my throat when I look at them. So much lust, but there’s something more. His heart. He can’t help but show it to me. I make a mental note, carved in stone, to never hurt his heart again.

Fuck. That sounds very relationship-y. Like something a boyfriend would promise. When I came here, I had no intention of getting into our feelings or my feelings. It seems like something in me has other plans. Because now I’m starting to consider it.

I’ve always had great control over my feelings, but Wesley has made me… weak yet strong, out of control and yet in control. All of that shit scares the ever-living-fuck out of me, but maybe I don’t need to be. Because so far, I’ve been the asshole, not him. He let me in. I think he wants me there. But I’m not sure yet, so I inhale and exhale slowly and get back to just feeling each other’s bodies.

“Tell me, baby?” I ask, reminding him of my earlier question.

“Technically, it was this morning, but I was asleep.”

My eyebrow quirks up. “A wet dream. How lovely. What was the dream?”

There’s a hint of hesitation, but the words tumble out of his mouth.

“I was dreaming about you. You crawled up my body in bed and sucked my cock, and played with my balls. I woke up with my hand around my dick and the other around my balls. I’ve never done that before. I mean, I’ve woken up with my hand around my cock but never cupping my balls.”

“I must’ve really gotten to you.”

“You did.”

We’re talking about the dream, but there’s definitely something in that statement that speaks to the past. I lean over to him, brushing my lips against his.

“You got to me too,” I whisper, then curl my fingers.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans softly.

I take out my fingers and put on the condom, needing to be inside of him before I lose it. I put some lube over my cock and position myself at his entrance.

“If you ever need to stop, tell me, and I’ll stop,” I tell him.

Wesley nods, then places his hand around mine.

Together we guide my cock inside of him, groaning as we do. There is nothing quite like the feeling of sinking into Wesley’s ass.