Page 7 of Stealing the Merman

“That’s your prostate,” Conall said, his voice calm and controlled. “If stimulated right, it can make you come so hard you forget your own name.” Darin had no doubt. “My merman drove me wild until there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him. It was madness. I wonder if I can do the same to you. Render you helpless and incoherent with my fingers. Would you like to find out?”

Conall didn’t wait for an answer but instead gave Darin’s prostate one long, slow stroke. The little movement crashed into Darin like a tidal wave. Urgency mounted, and the undeniable compulsion to let go and erupt into orgasm overcame him. His head fell back, exposing his throat to Conall in total submission.

But Conall, that bloody tosser, wrapped his fingers around the root of his cock, trapping him suspended on the edge of release.

“So responsive,” Conall said, chiding and praising him at the same time. He ran his fingertips over Darin’s prostate, leaving him quivering.

“Please, sir… I need… please… don’t stop… let me…” Whatever else he wanted to say was killed by the scream Conall pulled from him by pressing his fingers into that damn sensitive spot buried in his most private place.

“This precious knot is a miracle,” Conall said unfazed, as if they were having a drink and talking about the weather. “Your little bundle of nerves loves my fingers, doesn’t it?”

Darin was about to tell him what a presumptuous bastard he was when Conall began rubbing his gland. Darin squealed. The ceaseless motion against his sweet spot combined with the unforgiving pressure to the base of his length drove him out of his mind.

“I love it!” he cried in the hopes of Conall taking pity on him and letting him climax. “I love your fingers so much. They make me feel so good.” Embarrassment burned in his cheeks. “Please, sir, please. I… I need to come. I need to come so bad. Please. Please let me come, sir. I—Nghhh.”

Conall’s digits were taking him to places no man’s cock had ever taken him. Darin remembered a dingy tavern back room, a man fucking into him and he, furiously pumping his cock to have a chance at getting off. This was a different world. Conall’s fingers were massaging him to heaven as he cried and sobbed and begged for orgasm.

Then Conall pulled out, only to dive back in, this time with three fingers. The stretch was considerable, and it burned so good.

“Say you’re my dirty little whore,” Conall demanded, incessantly prodding and stroking his swollen, needy prostate.

“I’m your dirty little whore.”

“And whose hole is this?” Conall prodded his gland for emphasis. Darin jumped at the fit of pleasure.

“Yours!” A filthy low moan. “All yours, sir.”

“That’s right. And who do you come for, boy?”

The hope that release was close surged in Darin’s chest. “You, sir. Only you.”

His legs burned with the effort of holding him up, and his hole quaked around the fingers intruding in him. His cock throbbed while his balls climbed high, ready to shoot their load. Conall bent to take Darin’s nipple between his lips. He pulled the sensitive skin into his mouth, the wet and warm feeling shooting straight into Darin’s cock. Conall flicked his tongue until the nipple formed a hard bud. His teeth came down on it, gentle but with a hint of danger.

“Please, sir,” Darin whimpered, unable to take it anymore. His aching cock demanded immediate relief, and as his trembling legs threatened to give out, Conall’s fingers hammered his prostate, and his grip on Darin’s base loosened.

Deafening silence hung in the room as Darin stared at Conall’s smug expression. He hadn’t touched Darin’s cock except to prevent his climax. But his fingers’ quick rhythm raised an escalating tension in Darin until he exploded like a keg of gunpowder set on fire.

He shouted when release thundered through his body and soul. His cock spasmed, and he erupted between them. Hot white cum splattered their chests and abdomens as his hole rapidly clenched and unclenched around Conall’s fingers that never ceased nailing the core of his being. Satisfying convulsions contracted his insides, again and again, spreading through his body and leaving him buzzing with bliss.

He sank into Conall’s arms, who pulled out. Darin rode the aftershocks as he buried his face in the crook of Conall’s neck and inhaled the scent of man and sweat. His entire body hummed with joy and relief.

“Thank you,” Darin mumbled, and placed an open-mouthed kiss on Conall’s throat. “Thank you for making me come like no one ever has, sir.”

Conall’s fingers threaded into Darin’s hair. Darin wanted to tell him his orgasm had beenexquisite, but it’d make him sound like a pretentious twat, so he kept that to himself. He purred when Conall ran his fingernails down his back, sending shivers from head to toe.

“Please clean up the mess you made,” Conall said, his tone even and soft.

Darin extracted himself from his arms and picked up his shirt. He cleaned himself with a few efficient moves, then tossed the shirt aside. It would need a thorough wash to get the cum stains out, but he’d worry about that later. Conall was his priority. He leaned in, kissing and licking his chest. The salty mix of sweat and cum intoxicated him. A blob of cum had hit Conall’s pecs, and Darin gathered it with his tongue. He didn’t stop there but wrapped his mouth around the hard nub Conall’s nipple had formed into, teasing it until Conall groaned. He then moved to the other side, repeating the motion while his fingers twisted and squeezed the one he’d left wet.

Under him, Conall’s cock exuded heat, a reminder to continue south. Darin took his time cleaning the ridges and valley of Conall’s abs, licking and tasting salt on smooth skin. He slipped between Conall’s legs, and his knees came to rest on the floor paneling. The sight of Conall’s engorged cock waiting for him took his breath away. He bent forward and ran his tongue up the length from root to tip, his gaze glued to Conall’s.

His reservations about kneeling in front of Conall had gone out the window. A man who could make him come that hard deserved his wholehearted attention. He licked his shaft, tracing thick, throbbing veins. Conall’s hands sank into his hair and guided him toward his bulbous crown. Darin salivated at the musky scent. His tongue circled the corona of the glans, leaving a damp trail. The pressure at the back of his head increased—no more fooling around, it said. Darin opened his mouth, stared up at Conall and took his fat cockhead between his lips. Precum dripped onto his tongue, and he moaned in time with Conall. Bloody hell, that cock was burly. It stretched Darin’s lips, and as he slid down, its weight was heavy on his tongue.

He wished Conall would’ve let him take off his breeches to give him full access, dick, balls and ass. Never mind. Spurred on by images of a merman taking Conall all the way to his base, drowning him in sensations, Darin took a deep breath and slid to his root. He wouldn’t outdo a merman, but Darin had blown his fair share of cocks and was determined to make this good. He whirled his tongue along the underside, and Conall let loose a hungry growl. Encouraged, Darin bobbed his head, licking and sucking, worshiping him with his mouth.

Conall’s grip tightened, and Darin relaxed his neck muscles, granting him control. Conall fucked his mouth, pumping hard and fast. Darin hummed his endorsement. He loved having a man twice his size use and abuse his holes. Conall hit the back of his throat. Years of blowing men in dodgy inns and dark courtyards had taught Darin to suppress his gag reflex. Conall pressed into his throat, and Darin accepted him greedily, opening up as far as he could. He swallowed around Conall, knowing how good that felt.

“Good boy,” Conall muttered, blown pupils fixed on where his shaft disappeared in Darin’s mouth. “Such a good boy for me, taking all my cock.” He pulled out an inch, then dove back in, deeper than before, grunting and panting. “Fuck, you’re perfect. You look so good with my cock in your mouth. You and that gorgeous little merman would make a great team taking care of my dick.”

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