Page 50 of Rent: Paid in Full
My dick loves this kind of talk. Absolutely loves it. Eats this shit up and asks for seconds. Truth be told, it’s kind of a fan of being naked around other men, and to my surprise, it seems to have a bit of a thing for having my legs splayed open and my hole on display too. I feel the tell-talezingas it starts to thicken, I try not to look down, but I can’t help it, so I blink helplessly at it as it grows before my eyes.
It’s almost a relief when he puts his hands on my knees, even though I know full well their trajectory isn’t going to be easy to come back from with dignity. He moves them slowly, skimming my skin, ruffling the hair on my inner thighs as his hands move over them, burning a trail up and down me as they do.
He stops when he reaches the smooth, soft skin near my balls and picks up the lube, squirting a generous dollop onto his fingers, making me watch as he spreads it all over his middle and forefinger. I shift uncomfortably, lungs burning from how fast and shallow I’m breathing.
“Have you been touched like this before?” he asks.
I shake my head dumbly.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you feel good.” He reaches between my legs and strokes two slippery fingers gently up my crack, dipping in, using a little more pressure when he touches my hole. My toes curl, and my ass jerks off the desk in fright, or something.
He smiles. Not sneers. Not grins. He smiles like he’s looking at someone he likes. He eases me back down with a heavy hand on my chest and a soft sigh. He strokes me again, and this time, he circles my asshole, using the pad of his middle finger, teasing, pressing gently, nudging softly until it sinks in. He keeps still an inch or less inside me, waiting for me to relax before sliding in all the way to the knuckle. My hips buck, and an awful, low sound is torn from my chest.
“D’you like it?” He sounds sweet and totally sincere.
I can’t stand it.
I hate how he’s looking at me. Like he’s cracked a code to my psyche. Like he can see the cracks in the surface and he’s about to peer in and see everything I spend my life trying to hide.
“No!” I croak, shaking my head vigorously. “I don’t like it.”
That sets any sweetness in him on fire and gives rise to something completely different. Luscious lips curl into a snarl. “Oh no?”
“No, i-it doesn’t feel good. I-it’s”—fuck, what’s the word I’m looking for? I should know this. It’s not a hard word—“u-uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable, huh?”
He locks his eyes on mine, lowering his chin in determination as he swivels his finger a little and then crooks it inside me. I make an awful sound. Horrific. Truly unbearable. I sound like something that’s been punctured. I look awful too. I’m sure of it. My teeth and eyes are clenched tightly shut, but my lips are pulled back in a feverish grimace. It’s using every ounce of my strength not to writhe. Not in discomfort. God, I wish that was it. In pleasure. Because fuck, it feels amazing where he’s touching me. It burns, not a lot, just a little. Just enough. Just enough to set me alight.
He saws his hand back and forth slowly, fucking his finger into me until my cock visibly throbs. Then he adds a second finger. He’s slow and careful about it, pinching his fingers together at his fingertips to ease his entry. He eases his fingers in. Taking his time and making me feel it even harder than I already was. I gasp and tense from the stretch as he pushes into me deeply. He waits again, letting me stretch, stroking my face with his free hand. I roll my head into his touch, almost delirious from the effort it’s taking not to buck and moan.
Two fingers feel completely different from one. One was a hint. Two is more than a taste. I feel full and debased, and while I’ve never thought having fingers in my ass would do it for me, it does. It really does. My blood is boiling and pumping furiously through my veins. Everything around Miller is dull, and I feel removed from all of it. In contrast, everything he touches is in crystal-clear focus.
Miller looks at me the whole time, studying my face, reading my movements and quite possibly my mind, responding before I have time to consciously want what he gives me next and giving it to me the exact second I realize I want it. He touches me gently and respectfully, so fucking respectfully, and for some reason, that makes it even harder to take. It makes me even harder too. He looks at me the same way. In amazement. In rapture. It’s sointense and beautiful that I can’t hold eye contact with him. I look down to see my engorged dick leaking copiously onto my lower belly, lurching helplessly when he touches the thing inside me that makes my hair stand on end as my ass lifts off the desk.
“You feel good inside. So good.” His voice is becoming more and more strained with each word. “Why?Why’d you feel like this, Ryan?”
“Uh…” It takes me a while, but this seems like a direct question that requires an answer. “Uh, um, all asses feel good.”He leans in and rests his forehead briefly against mine. “Nah, yours is better. Your ass feels better than anyone else’s.”
My eyes cross, but I quickly right them. Still, I’m not sure how to respond to that. I’m not all that good with compliments in general, and I’m suddenly aware that I’m wholly unprepared to deal with compliments specific to my anus.
I don’t think he notices. He’s moved on to something else.
“Can I touch your dick?” he rasps.
I whine and buck, neck arching back and eyes growing watery from the effort it takes to shake my head.
He bites his bottom lip and tries not to roll his eyes, no doubt at what a colossal idiot I am, and then leans down and kisses me sweetly on the mouth. He pulls his fingers out of me and quickly replaces them with his left hand, struggling to unbuckle his belt with his right. I help him, hands shaking as I undo his top button and drag his zipper down. His boxer briefs are heather gray, almost the same color as his eyes. The outline of his boner is massive and proud, stained by a clear wet spot. The sight of it makes my mouth fill with saliva.
He scoops his dick out of his pants and starts stroking hard and fast. His hand is curled around his shaft, forearm working hard and fast enough to make muscle bulge. The fingers he has inside me are still working me over. He’s less deft than he was with his dominant hand, but it still feels dangerously good.Dangerously close to making me lose the shard of control I’m clinging to. Dangerously close to making me come so hard I fully expect bits of my brain to shoot out of my dick. Close, but not close enough.
“Lift your balls,” he groans at last. “Show me that pretty hole.”
He pulls his fingers out of me at the last second, leaving my ass blinking and pouting in shock. His whole body stiffens, abs tensing, neck sinews straining as he shoots the biggest load I’ve ever seen all over my ass, my dick, and my balls.
“Damn.” He sighs, lips parted in a wonky smile, eyes misted over. “That’s some ass you got there, Haraway.”
It dawns on me sometime later that the moment has passed. He’s come. My work here is done. Yet, I’m still on the desk, and my legs are still spread-eagled. My asshole is still on display, only now it’s frosted with lashings of semen. Red-hot humiliation travels under my skin, flushing my cheeks and shocking me to my senses. I scramble to my feet and start the arduous journey to the bathroom, hobbling along as Miller’s load slithers down my legs.