I just want you to try them, if you don’t like it you don’t ever have to use them.
That’s what he’d said, hadn’t it? Just to try it? Just to try playing with the toys that apparently he hadn’t been planning on buying for like… a month. They were an early Christmas gift, he’d said. Yes. Almost three weeks early.
Of course he’d been planning this.
“That thing is horrifying and I’m not putting it inside me.”
Cronus just laughs until tears gather in his eyes, hunched over on his couch and you just glare at him with lips pulled into somewhat of a pout as you turn the thing over in your hands. It’s a massager of sorts, you gather, like a shortish dildo with a particularly curved head. Soft plastic, probably, and you start squeezing it tightly for a moment to test pliability.
“You say that now, doll, but there’s gonna be a time where you need my cock and I won’t be there to give it to you.”
Then there was the vibrating cock ring, a stretchy thing with a tiny bullet clamped to it that, according to Cronus, was supposed to make your cock harder, make you last longer, and make your orgasm more intense.
You’d called bullshit.
And then you’d had sex on his couch, which was fun.
That was a week ago though.
For the first time in a while, you were at your apartment, the one you and Mituna share, and, after giving Mituna explicit instructions to not come home because I will be busy and he’d just said oh don’t worry I have plans of my own and you’d groaned and rolled your eyes, you were waiting for him. He was supposed to come home from swim practice at 10, and, here it was, 9:00, and you already have your hand in your pants.
Your cock is semi-soft, only mildly interested at this point, but you still stare up at the ceiling with your fly open, shuffling around in your boxers.
This was boring. Cronus wasn’t going to be home for a whole hour and you were the one who had to hang around with half a boner. Unbelievable.
He can’t text, he can’t call you, he can’t do anything but exist in your imagination at that point, and so you tend to let it get away from you at the best of times. And that’s exactly what’s about to happen, isn’t it? Because you’re thinking about bouncing on Cronus’s dick and crying for daddy to fuck you harder, aren’t you?
Aaaand there’s the rock-hard boner that makes you gasp out loud as it comes to life in your fingers. Ho man. You take a deep inhale, feeling it right down to your extremities. God.
You stroke your cock with measured precision, pause, and then shuffle partway out of your skinny jeans, letting them gather around your thighs. Your hand returns, you jerk yourself off slowly as you can. You don’t want to cum before he gets home, but you just can’t… ignore it like that. Or, maybe you could.
Slowing, and then finally stopping, you stare at the ceiling and let your cock throb in your hand. This is a problem, you decide, sitting up and starting to hitch your pants back up.
Playing Candy Crush on your phone for a little bit should probably calm you down. That game infuriates you enough to kill any boner, no matter how strong.
No matter even if it’s brought on with thoughts of sucking on Cronus’s cock while you sit on his face and let him call you a bad little slut?
“Delicious,” Your game decides to chime in, and you make an irritated noise and snap your phone back down onto your nightstand and roll over.
Then you roll back over and stare at your nightstand. At the drawer. At what you know is in the drawer.
Cronus will never find out.
Sitting up, you lean across the gap and withdraw, from your nightstand, two important things. One of them is Cronus’s bottle of Wet Platinum that he bequeathed to you after switching brands. It works perfectly fine, of course, and it’s about half-full of clear, slippery fluid.
You remove the massager from its packaging. It’s shaped a bit like a double-ended fishhook, which you find ironic in several thousand ways that you can’t put your finger on. It’s also candy red, something you rather resent for some reason, but, twisting it between your hands, you contemplate the curved head.
And then it clicks.
It’s a prostate massager. Oh. You know exactly what this is going to do, and you think that you’d very much like to experience it. You sit up, shimmy your pants and socks all the way down and off, kicking them away to the end of the bed as you uncap the bottle of lube. You understand why Cronus likes the other kind better, it’s thick and kind of goopy while this is quite runny. It works just fine, of course, as you coat the length of the little thing before sitting back against your pillows and, gingerly, starting to lube yourself up as well.
Fingers inside you will never feel half as good as Cronus’s cock. You wished he was here so you could ride it.
Swallowing hard, you brace the massager, then, pulling a face, give it a little push. It slides inside of you easily thanks to the merciful Lube gods, and, frankly, it doesn’t feel half bad.
Half bad, as it turns out, is actually more like oh God, ohhhh my God, as you hilt it neatly inside of you. You squirm around it, feeling the pressure of the soft plastic rubbing a wonderful, consistent pressure against your prostate, and oh God it’s really nice.
You let your breath out in a long exhale, starting to stroke your cock again.
No. This is a bad idea. You’re going to cum so very quickly. It’s now that you remember the cock ring, and you make a face and lean over the bed again. “Shit!” The massager shifts when you move, and it rubs happily against your prostate in a way that makes you gasp.
The cock ring is incredibly stretchy. You still have a little bit of lube on your fingers, which you use to ring the inside of the toy before settling back down. Carefully, oh so carefully, you slide it on, and then let out a strangled noise when your grip slips and it vices unexpectedly around your junk.
Blinking back tears, you put it on the right way, and, once in place, isn’t so bad. It feels like a hand is squeezing you with just enough pressure to make you squirm. Then you click the tiny button on the attached vibrator and you moan out loud as it hums quietly to life, clutching at the bedspread and arching yourself somewhat off of the bed.
This was more like it. Panting, you’re free to use your hands to do whatever, stroke your cock, pinch your nipples, whatever you feel like, but for whatever reason they stay perfectly still at your side. “Oh god,” You breathe, closing your eyes as you force yourself to lift a hand up, trail it down your front and then grasp your cock gently.
Give it to me good, daddy, let me have that fat cock… does it feel good, fucking my ass like that? I love it when you pound me so good and deep, I can barely stand it… oh, God, yes…
Your cock is stiff, wet, and sensitive, as you stroke it up and down gently. It takes every bit of effort to not cum right then and there. But you wait, you have to wait, because if you don’t wait, then you aren’t getting laid tonight, and that’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?
“…haahhh… fuck me good, daddy, oh, yes, Cronus, baby, give it to your little slut…”
The noise that escapes you is probably what a chicken sounds like when it’s been stepped on.
Cronus is standing in the doorway of your bedroom with his gym bag slung over one shoulder, his leather jacket and combat boots on, and, of all things, a boner that you can see straining at his jeans from across the room. You sit up, scrambling to hide yourself, feeling all of the blood run to your face (except for the blood being used to wrangle your hard-on), shame and mortification spilling out every inch of your body.
“Cronus oh god no don’t- no no it’s not what you think it is please don’t laugh oh my god f-forget I said anything just please please pretend you didn’t hear me oh my god it’s really not what you think I’m not- oh no-”
Cronus drops the gym bag, all the while staring at you, shrugs his jacket off and then tosses it at the desk chair, where it hooks. Then, crossing the room, he starts to undo his fly, and you watch, spellbound as he whips his cock out and stands in front of you with it.
“Go on.” He said quietly, offering it to you with a pointed, surly look on his face. “You wanna be a little slut, daddy’s gonna treat you like one.”
And then you think you’ve actually died and gone to heaven. Actually. You want to punch the air and whoop and sing praise about your goddamn good luck and what you instead do is nod eagerly and open your mouth.
Cronus puts a hand on the back of your head. You shift somewhat, resting on the edge of the bed, sitting directly on the massager and feeling it pressing right into your switch. It’s enough to make your mouth water, taking his cock into your mouth and moaning hungrily for him.
“Yeah… good boy,” He breathes, using his grip on your head to direct you loosely, threading his fingers through your hair. His cock tastes a bit like chlorine, smells like soap from his after-practice locker-room shower, and you’re aching for every inch of it. He thrusts into your mouth, you nod your head in time with his hips. “Goooood boy… you suck it good, don’t you? You like it, when I fuck your mouth, don’t you, baby?”
You can only make a little 'mhm!' noise and rock your hips somewhat, feeling the massager shift inside you. You put one hand on your cock, just holding it while the other hand grips the base of his. Cronus uses the grip on your hair as leverage, and, feeling your scalp pull, you gasp, trying so very hard not to choke on him but his dick is big, and you don’t think you can fit that much into your mouth even if you tried.
He’s going to apparently make you try, though, and you gag on his cock and gasp through your nose as tears gather in your eyes. He looks so cold, so impassive, but his eyes are smoldering with lust as you stare up at him with your cock throbbing desperately in your hand.
Cronus pulls his cock out of your mouth. “Good boy,” He purrs, leaning down and giving you a sloppy kiss, “Being ready for me like that…”
“I couldn’t wait,” You reply, voice practically slurring as you lick your lips, still tasting his cock. “I-I tried to be patient, daddy, I really did, I’m sorry.” He strokes your chin, you lick at his fingers greedily as they drift over your lips. “Can I have your cock now?”
“Beg for it.”
“Please,” You moan, leaning back and sitting up a bit more, carefully extracting the massager, “Please fuck me, give me that big cock nice and hard like I need it… fuck me good, daddy, give it to me!”
Cronus finds the bottle of lube, and, as he snaps it open and starts to squeeze some out onto his palm, he drops the facade for the briefest moments and flashes you a smile. You blush, and wink at him, turning around and bending over on the bed, bracing yourself on the inner edge as you sway your hips for him.
“Come on, big boy. I know you’re ready.”
Your reward is a stinging slap on the ass that makes you cry out, body convulsing in shock. He growls, you moan for him as he squeezes the bruised flesh greedily, feeling the smack hot and raw on your skin. You whimper, the bed creaks as he rests one knee on it for leverage.
“I’m gonna wreck you.” Cronus breathes, his voice gravelly and hoarse as he pauses, then sinks his cock deep into you in one swift movement. You cry out, throwing your head back as your cock throbs, drooling viscous pre-fluid onto the bedsheets in a gossamer strand. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, you’ll be creaming yourself in no time. Such,” He pulls out, back in, starts to fuck you in a rather lazy, unhurried manner, “-a good little slut, aren’t you?”
“Aah… yes,” You murmur, breath hitching each time he hilts into you, pulling one of your pillows towards you and tucking it under your torso, resting your head and neck on it as you let your eyelids roll shut. “Fuck…”
The vibrator hums softly between your legs still, and you shift yourself a little bit, trying to get it to press closer to your body. Your toes curl, your throat is absolutely acrid desert dry. You’re hungry for it, such a good slut, he says, and all you can hear his his ragged breathing and the sound of your hips making contact and goddamn you’re whimpering with just every breath. Your nerve endings are aflame, panting and wheezing as he speeds up.
“Harder, daddy, harder, harder!” You cry, feeling your body prickle with sweat. You’re so hot under his touch, breath catching in your throat. “Oh yessss-”
“Fuck, fuck yeah,” You hear him growl, and god does he ever go harder, practically slamming you into the bed which creaks in anguish. He’s literally fucking you senseless, you can’t see anything but stars and the only sound is his breath. Your cock aches, itching to be touched, and you reach between you and start to fuck your hand just as he fucks you, moving in time with the jerk of your body.
“Take it you little whore,” He snarls, “Let daddy fuck you like you deserve it, be a good boy, that’s it, baby, that’s it, cum on that fat cock for me-”
You do. You can’t help it. Your body seizes as you cry out, your orgasm taking you so abruptly and entirely. You spill into your hand, the bedsheets, and it feels like it’s never going to end as Cronus continues to fuck you raw. He’s not going to stop, you know it, because he’s not done yet. He’s going to keep pounding you into the bed and let you gasp and moan and be oversexed and slightly hysterical as you writhe under him.
“Oh, baby, oh, yeah, fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard,” He rasps, you try to blink away tears but god, your whole body is on fire and tingling. He nails you right in the prostate, you cry out pitifully as it glances off and makes you practically buckle, feeling stupid and so very exhausted and you just want to curl up but he’s fucking you so deep and so hard that you can barely focus on breathing because ugh that cock ring is going to make you scream the way it buzzes on your hypersensitive cock and there’s no stopping it.
“Cum for me daddy, fill me up!” You urge him, fumbling for the cock ring to try and turn it off, it’s slippery and where the fuck is that button-?
Cronus doesn’t often make a lot of noise when he cums but he sure does this time, shoving a hand into your hair and then jerking it backwards as he impales you on his cock and empties, you feel him cumming in thick, heavy throbs, groaning your name as you cry out his own. You’re stuffed, you’re so full of him, and you can barely get the cock ring off in time for him to slow, slow, and then, finally, stop.
You can your the shake in both of your inhales, the tremor in the air as, heart pounding, you wind down. And he does the same, his grip on your hair loosening and then releasing. He slides a hand down your sweaty back, braces it on your hip, and then gently slides out of you. You whimper softly, body rocking to one side as you collapse, curled up somewhat, on the bedspread, and you feel the weight of the bed shift as he sits down beside you.
“…so,” You manage, “How was practice?”
“Hm? Oh! It was good, actually, I got my time down by half a second today.”
“Ooh! Good job, proud of you.”
Cronus is visibly shaky when he stands up, zips his trousers back up, and then hands you the box of tissues that you keep on your nightstand. As you both carefully mop up the bedspreed, you catch his eye. You smile. He leans in, grins, kisses the side of your head, and you laugh softly, unable to help yourself.