I gulp, staring at the thick length right in front of my face, ice cream already lting in thin white streams down the shaft, Bael’s hand still firm around my neck, and my mind goes completely blank.
I’m about to give a blowjob for the first ti in my life.
Both lives.
I look up at Bael, et his eyes for just a second, and see the challenge there, the expectation, the dark amusent waiting to see what I’ll do.
Then I open my mouth.
I stick out my tongue, intending to just lick the ice cream off like he said, nice and simple and safe, but my mouth closes over the head instead.
The cold vanilla mixes with the heat of his skin, the taste of sugar and salt flooding my senses, and I swirl my tongue around the tip, catching lting ice cream and the slick precum underneath.
Bael groans.
The sound vibrates through him, raw and unfiltered, and sothing in my chest tightens at the knowledge that I caused that, that I can make him sound like that.
I try to take him deeper, try to swallow more of his length, but it’s not easy, he’s thick and my jaw is already stretching uncomfortably, my throat protesting even the shallow depth. Bael’s hand holds my hair, fingers tangling roughly, and he presses my head down with steady pressure, forcing deeper.
I choke slightly, tears springing to my eyes again, but he doesn’t stop, just keeps pushing until I’ve taken more than I thought possible, until my nose is nearly pressed against his skin and I can barely breathe.
Then he thrusts.
Not as rough as before, not the brutal pace that made gag and cry, but not gentle either, steady and deliberate, using my mouth like it belongs to him. I try to keep up, try to match his rhythm with my tongue, but mostly I just hold on, hands gripping his thighs, letting him use however he wants.
Then suddenly he’s pulling up by my hair, dragging off his dick and up toward his face, and his mouth crashes onto mine before I can catch my breath. The kiss is deep and possessive, his tongue pushing past my lips to taste himself there, taste the ice cream, taste , claiming every part of my mouth like he owns it.
My head goes fuzzy, thoughts scattering like smoke, and I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m already kneeling over his lap, straddling him, the shirt hanging off in useless tatters.
Bael’s dick is pressed against my ass, hard and insistent, and I feel his hands co up to grip my hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
Then he lifts , both hands spreading my ass open, positioning exactly where he wants , and he shoves upward.
His cock drives into in one brutal thrust.
I cry out, the sound tearing from my throat as pleasure spikes through so sharp it’s almost painful, my body clenching around the intrusion, and I’m cumming before I can stop it, before I can even process what’s happening.
My dick spurts between us, untouched, painting streaks across both our stomachs as my whole body shakes with the force of it.
Bael doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t give a second to recover. He changes position imdiately, flipping us with effortless strength, his dick never leaving my hole, and suddenly my back is hitting the mattress and he’s lifting my waist up off the bed. Only my upper back and shoulders stay pressed against the sheets, my lower body suspended in the air by his grip, held exactly where he wants .
Then he thrusts, pulls almost all the way out, just the head of his cock still inside, stretching my rim, and slams back in.
The angle is brutal, direct, hitting that spot inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids, and I can’t control the sounds coming out of my mouth, high and desperate and completely shaless.
He keeps ramming into , over and over, each thrust driving deeper, harder, the wet slap of skin against skin obscenely loud in the quiet room. I can feel the slide of his cock, the drag of it against my walls, the way my body grips him desperately like it doesn’t want to let go.
My hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white, my head thrashing from side to side as pleasure builds again impossibly fast.
I’m going to cum again.
Already.
So soon after the last one that it feels almost painful, my oversensitive dick leaking continuously, body wound so tight I might break.
"Bael," I gasp out, not even sure what I’m asking for, just needing sothing, anything.
He thrusts harder in response, faster, drilling into with relentless precision, and I shatter. Cum again, body convulsing around him, clenching rhythmically as pleasure whites out every thought, every sense except the feeling of him inside .
But he doesn’t stop or slow down, he just keeps fucking through it, prolonging the orgasm until I’m sobbing with oversensitivity, until my body doesn’t know if it’s pleasure or pain anymore.
Then he lowers my waist back to the bed, settles my hips against the mattress, and leans over .
My hands co up instinctively, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer even though I can barely think straight, can barely rember my own na.
He fucks continuously, steadily, and I hold onto him like he’s the only solid thing in the world. His face is close to mine, close enough that I can see the sweat on his skin, the intensity in his eyes, the way his jaw is clenched with control that’s fraying at the edges.
Then he groans, low and guttural, and I feel him pulse inside . Hot cum flooding my insides, filling completely, and the sensation makes whimper, makes my body clench around him instinctively, he stays buried deep, hips pressed flush against mine, and I can feel every twitch as he empties himself inside .
Finally, we’re done, we can rest now.
I let my arms fall from his neck, let my body go limp against the mattress, completely spent, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. But Bael doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t stop, instead, he shifts his grip to my hips, hands locking around my waist, and flips over onto my stomach.
"Wait," I try to say, but it cos out slurred and weak, "what..."
He pulls my hips up, forcing onto my knees even though my legs are shaking too hard to support my weight, face pressed into the mattress. Then he thrusts back in and I cry out, the sound muffled by the sheets, my body still oversensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve ending screaming.
But Bael is rciless now, control completely abandoned, fucking with brutal intensity that rattles the bed fra, that makes the headboard slam against the wall in a steady rhythm.
He drills into continuously, relentlessly, one hand fisted in my hair to hold in place, the other gripping my hip hard enough that I know I’ll have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.
I can’t think anymore, can’t process anything beyond the overwhelming sensation of being filled, being used, being fucked into the mattress with single-minded determination.
My dick is hard again sohow, trapped between my body and the sheets, friction building with every thrust, and I don’t know if I can cum again, don’t know if my body has anything left to give.
Then I feel it.
The base of his cock swelling, growing thicker, stretching impossibly wider.
His knot.
"Bael," I gasp, "wait, I—"
He slams in one final ti, forcing the knot inside, and it locks us together.
I scream, the sound breaking off into sobs as my body is forced to accommodate the size, as every nerve fires at once, as I cum one more ti dry, body convulsing uselessly.
Bael groans above , hips jerking erratically as he fills again, cum pumping directly into with nowhere to go, trapped by the knot. Then he collapses forward, his weight pressing completely flat against the mattress, both of us breathing hard, completely spent.
The knot pulses inside , still swollen, locking us together, and I can feel every twitch, every movent, my body stretched and full and utterly claid.
I close my eyes and try to catch my breath, to rember how to think, but all I can feel is Bael inside , all around , his weight, his heat, his knot keeping us joined. And so distant part of my brain whispers that this is exactly what I wanted.
Exactly what I asked for when I laid on this bed eating ice cream and wearing his shirt.
I just didn’t expect it to be this overwhelming, this complete, and this absolutely devastating.
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