Page 41 of Poetry On Ice

Now that I really feel. I feel it everywhere. It’s more than a slight burn. More than a slight stretch. The pressure is deep and sustained. Decker moves his fingers slowly, swiveling them around inside me and finding my prostate with well-practiced skill.Jesus! I’m not just seeing stars. It’s an asterism now. A night sky with no clouds. No manufactured light to compete with. Just a heavy black screen with a million tiny lights burning through it.

He doesn’t stop when I squawk or call out. He doesn’t slow either. He keeps stimulating my spot. Hitting it like it’s his job. It fucks me up. It undoes me so much that when he pulls his fingers out of me, I’m a puddle of goo.

“Noooo,” I wail, frantically reaching back and trying to find his hand or his cock, anything I can use to fill me. “I need it.”

“Relax, Princess.” There’s a smile in his voice. A dark smile buried under a threat. “I know what you need, and I’m gonna give it to you.” He leans in and kisses my cheek, scraping my skin with coarse hair and teeth. “Imma make you into the perfect pussy boy you were born to be.”

I groan in reply. A long, loud sound that makes the whole room vibrate and spins every star in the room clockwise.

The lube cap flicks open, and I hear the slick sounds of Decker coating himself behind me. He moves closer to me, sliding his lower arm under my neck and curling it around my chest, using his free hand to line his cock up with my ass.

His head feels slick and warm against my hole. Thick and unforgiving. If I had any presence of mind left, I’d be nervous and or excited. I’m so far gone, though, I can’t remember how to feel anythingbut horny.

I’m still on my side, curled in a ball with my legs bent to my chest. I rock my hips back, offering myself to him. When he doesn’t act as fast as I’d like, I take my ass cheek in my hand and spread myself as much as I can. He strokes my hole with his dick a few times and then pushes in.

He’s prepared me well, and God knows I want it, but damn, I feel it. There’s a quick shock as muscle is forcibly stretched. A sharp sting that makes my eyes water. Decker knows what he’s doing though. He must because as soon as his head is inside me, he takes my dick in his hand and strokes it firmly.

The feeling of a hand on my cock soothes me. The familiar push and pull of skin sliding up and down mingles with the brand-new sensation coming at me from behind. Pleasure mingles with pain, quickly mixing and becoming indistinguishable from each other. They drown each other out, competing, changing, turning into something more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.

He inches himself farther into me. I grit my teeth and forget to breathe as my sphincter gives way. He thrusts into me until he encounters resistance and then backs up. It happens again and again, and even though I know I should thank him, even though I know he’s doing mea huge favor by taking me so gently, it drives me crazy. It makes me feral.

I take a deep breath, and the next time he pushes in, I arch my back hard to meet him. It makes me cry out, and when I do, he pulls all the way out of me, waiting until I’m swearing and begging before stuffing himself back inside me. The shock of being empty is awful. I don’t like it. I hate it.

“Don’t pull out,” I grind out the third time he does it. “Stay in.Please. Want it. Need it.”

“Aw, Princess, it’s gonna go in so nice and smooth this time, you’ll see. Push out for me, okay?” he rasps into my ear, lips warm and intoxicating on the back of my neck. “Relax, Babygirl.” I groan at the words. Let me tell you, there are groans, and there aregroans. But there’s only one kind of groan a man can produce when he has a dick in his ass and a man like Ant Decker is talking dirty to him—and that’s a groan that comes from his soul. “Give it up. Come on, give it up for me. You know you want to.”

I nod and moan and bite down on the meat of my shoulder as I dig my fingers into my ass cheek, clawing at my flesh, doing all I can to hold myself open.

He’s right.

Sweet Jesus, he’s right.

I do want to give it to him. I want to give it all to him.

It does go in nicely this time. He’s right about that too. It’s a smooth, slippery stroke. A long, true thrust that takes me from empty to full in under two seconds. My eyes bulge in my sockets from the pressure, and when it hits me, the burst of pleasure makes me roar. A long, guttural cry that sounds exactly like what it is: the sound of a man getting turned out for the first time.

“Shh,” he threatens, moving the hand that was around my chest up to my mouth and cupping it tightly. “Quiet, baby. You don’t want people to know what I’m doing to you, do you?”

I gurgle and choke out an inaudible response. It’s just as well because no part of me could come up with something sensible right now. In fact, no part of me gives the slightest shit who hears or knows what. I don’t care if every guest on the whole floor hears me being fucked. I don’t care if the entire team, the coaches, the trainers, and all the players know what’s happening to me.

I don’t care.

I don’t because Ant Decker is lying behind me, body curled around mine and hips as close to me as he can get them, and his cock is sawing in and out of me. We’re both naked, and he’s inside me.Heis inside me.Him. The thrill it gives me is hard to describe. Physically, I’mfull. Stretched out and stuffed. I’m as full as I can possibly get, and I’m moaning my ass off on a thick, throbbing cock. Mentally, I’m in a good place. I’m in a mother fucking good place. I’m as close to content as I’ve ever been. I’m paralyzed. Speared. Skewered. And I don’t just mean my body. I mean my mind. It’s vacant and still. Open and full. There’s no resistance in me.

And I don’t mind at all.

Decker has me right where he wants me. Right where I belong.

He keeps pumping my dick with his hand and thrusting into my ass at the same time. His timing is nothing short of perfection. The intensity is surreal. The pleasure dreamlike. His hand moves down on the in-thrust and up on the out-thrust. The stimulation is so intense it almost feels like I won’t survive. It fries my brain. Pleasure and pressure swirl inside me, growing in fury until I’m no longer a man.

I’m a storm.

I thrash and rage. Howling. Blowing a gale that rattles the windows and threatens to bring the entire building down. Decker keeps the hand he has on my mouth firmly in place and starts kissing my neck, biting just hard enough to sting when I get too loud.

He thrusts into me again. A deep thrust. A long thrust. And then unleashes a barrage of short, shallow thrusts that makes me see white spots all over the ceiling. My orgasm finds me with almost no warning. A distant threat on the horizon one second, exploding out of me the next. My ass clenches, trying in vain to contract. Each time it does, Decker fills me again, forcing wave after wave of pleasure up my spine, shoving his fat cock into my spasming hole until the storm has blown over. Until I’m marooned, helpless, legless, bobbing around on a flimsy rafter in an ocean becalmed.

He rolls me over so I’m still on my side but half on my belly too. My ass is raised, gaping, fucked-out, and offered up to him.