Handle Me

by Unfortunate Reads

Damn, I guess that means our foreplay will be rushed today.

I swear I could almost explode from his firm caress as he ensures the tape is adhered firmly to my surface.

I just want to be done with this so I can go home and soak my sore muscles while watching an episode of Reba.

I don’t have the energy to question whatever weird shit my brain is making me do, though I make a mental note to schedule that therapy appointment sooner rather than later.

Blinking a few times to process what I’m seeing, a new idea comes to me. Glancing toward the kitchen where I left my stick, I hum. “I wonder…”

Like a mountain lion, Jace stands from the couch and slinks toward me. I’m nothing more than a gazelle caught in the dangerous path of a lion.

His proud, jutting cock makes me curse my maker for not giving me a mouth to wrap around it.

If I could shudder, I would. Jace may touch me all the time, but he’s never handled me like this.

He’s stretching himself, working his fingers back and forth until they meet no resistance and glide as smoothly as a puck flying down fresh ice.

Jace works me against his entrance, sliding me back and forth, applying pressure then easing back, until with a satisfying pop my knob slips into his tight channel. It’s like his body is sucking me in, claiming me.

This experience dulls all of those in comparison. I can sense how good I’m making Jace feel, hear his grunts as he shifts me deeper. Each of the ridges spiraling around my grip drags against his sensitive walls.

No one that can love this 6’ 3” hockey god like I can. If I could only move.

I don’t know what came over me, maybe seeing Geneva riding that stick with her soppy cunt. But maybe I’ve been thinking about this subconsciously and never admitted it to myself. I feel this special attraction to this stick, more than would be appropriate if it was just the aftermath of my first sponsorship deal.

I’ll stop when I hit the end of the tape, thats only about eight inches. Totally reasonable.

Holy shit. I am fucking my hockey stick. Or is it fucking me?

Closing my eyes, it sounds like a little voice is talking to me in my mind. No one is here but us, Jace. Ride me. Use me for your pleasure.

Once I’m satisfied it’s slick enough, I wipe my palm on the carpet to rid it of the extra jelly

Grunts and moans fill the air, accompanied by the filthy wet sounds of the stick fucking in and out of my asshole. I should be ashamed, but I find I’m not in the slightest.

Deep inside me, an ice cold liquid erupts into my channel and I hear my subconscious moaning my name.

Another moan rocks through me at the unexpected feeling before I scramble away from the piece of equipment I just fucked, and that I think just came in my ass.

I’m instantly crushed. That isn’t the look you want to see on your lover’s face immediately after the most intimate experience of your lives. I lay here, abandoned on the floor, the last bits of my icy cold cum dribbling out from my knob.

Jace, can you hear me? Can you feel me inside of you? I’m not above begging if it means that Jace will accept me.

If I could move on my own, I would snuggle up next to him, stroke his jet-black hair until he woke, provide him any comfort I could.

I wish I was bare for him, that this layer of tape wasn’t in the way.

The sex I just had was phenomenal. Is it sex if I was using it…him… as my own personal fuck toy? That thought turns me on, knowing someone, well I guess something, was submitting to me, letting me use them for my pleasure.

Did the stick…come? Do I have hockey stick jizz dripping from me right now?

The creator made me just for you. He told me the day would come when you accepted me into your body, your soul. I didn’t think he meant literally in your body, but I’m not complaining. I’m yours, Jace. Always have been, always will be.

I would have happily lived with the scent of him on me forever, but I am grateful for the aftercare.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I dream about you. I even tried to fuck a puck bunny to erase you from my system.”

Leaning forward, he licks a hot line with his tongue from my blade to the end of my shaft. I swear I shudder at the contact.

Jace’s moans are muffled with my blade shoved under the cushions, but there is no mistaking the feeling of him riding me, rising up and down to use me for his pleasure. I won’t last long without the tape barrier between us, the feeling is too good. Jace must agree, because he tightens around me as he comes, setting me off as well as I fill him with my icy seed.

“I don’t know what you are, what we are, but I can’t bear to be apart from you. We’ll figure this out…together.”