Vigour

Erotic short. A man is stuck between a proverbial rock and hard place.

500w, M/trans M, rated E. Just a short piece, overstimulation, doggy style, bondage, and a sex wand.

This was cruelty.

Worse than cruelty, this was torture.

Bran’s arms were tied behind his back, forearm to forearm, wrists to elbows, and like this he was utterly powerless to do anything but take it, take his cock as Hector drove into him again and again and again. It was so fucking thick it was a stretch no matter what the position was, but on his knees with Hector behind him he was inescapably cognizant of the thickness in him, of the way he was forced to open up to accommodate it, of the weight of Hector’s cock, the weight of Hector’s belly on top of his arse, leaning over him.

He was driving into him hard and deep and at a regular, perfect rhythm; every thrust sent shudders through him, rocked him to his fucking core, and shoved him down onto the vibrating wand strapped to the pillows he was braced on.

He couldn’t lean up, not with his body fallen forward, couldn’t brace himself and push up from his elbows, couldn’t do anything. He was trapped, utterly trapped, not between a rock and a hard place but between the most powerful vibrator in the fucking house and the insatiable, impossible pleasure of Hector’s cock inside him.

He’d already come once — Hell, as soon as Hector had tipped him forward and turned the vibe on, he’d cried out, the vibrations suddenly throbbing against his cock and making his whole body jerk, his thighs shuddering as he spread them wide, and that had been before Hector had fucked inside him. Then, he’d come, his cunt clenching and fluttering around the driving force of Hector’s cock in him, and during and after he’d all but been wailing, so overstimulated he couldn’t think. His cock had been throbbing with it, painful with the weight of having just orgasmed, and over the past few minutes the pain had receded a bit but not quite.

There was a dull ache in him, at the base of his cock, buried in his cunt, and he could feel himself cresting closer and closer to getting over that ache as Hector’s cock kept sliding in him, as Hector kept making loud, slapping contact with his arse and the backs of his thighs, as Hector kept gripping tightly at his hips, his fingers pressing into the skin where Bran was plush and grabbable.

Hector leaned in, and Bran moaned at the change in angle, at the weight of Hector’s body on top of his and the rock of his hips so much more intimately now, not pulling back as much, just rocking around in an almost circular motion, pressing on his inner walls in a way that made his head spin.

“I’m gonna keep fucking you,” murmured Hector, “until I feel you come again.”

Bran whimpered.

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Hector, laughing, and leaned back again to renew his thrusts with vigour.

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