Page 64 of Inside the Sun

"I can help, if you want."

I answer the same way, barely moving my lips.

It’s one of the advantages of being AOs, our ears are like dogs’.

"How?" I whisper.

"I can… push things."

I stare at him, not understanding what he just said.

"Push? You mean like… move objects?" I narrow my eyes, digging into the idea. "Gases and fluids too?"

He nods, but my brain is too slow to keep up. It takes me a while to put two and two together.

"So… you can force the blood into my dick?"

Another nod.

Holy shit! That’s actual magic. Sounds like some kind of telekinesis.

"I can also make a thin barrier between you and him. You won’t feel anything."

His words sound so bizarre, I just keep staring at him. As far as Anzo’s concerned, the room is silent. He's just waiting. Probably hoping that I’m working on getting hard. And in a way, I am.

"Let’s try. And yes, I don’t want to come. Not inside that bastard."

The next moment, it feels like a force presses against my abdomen. Summer’s colorful eyes stay locked on mine, looking slightly absentminded, as if he’s in some kind of trance. Do they glow a bit?

To my shock, my cock starts to fill with blood, completely against my will, without any arousal. It’s a weird, almost unpleasant sensation because there’s no actual readiness in me, and the tissue doesn’t feel receptive. I grit my teeth, trying to push through the discomfort.

A moment later, I’m rock hard. I let out a breath through clenched teeth. My hands are cuffed in front of me, which makes it awkward to open the condom and roll it on. I’m not good at this, I never do it, so it takes a minute. I wrestle with the tight latex, clearly sized for Summer, not me.

Finally, I manage. I step behind Anzo, using his jacket for balance, my fingers gripping the hem. I press the tip of my dick to his hole.

I clench my teeth harder, then push in, not gently. That bastard doesn’t deserve gentle, not after what he did to me and Summer.

Anzo grunts, but surprisingly, he doesn’t fight it.

With a cruel little smirk, I tighten my grip on his jacket and start fucking him.

To my huge relief, I feel nothing. Like I’m plunging into a vacuum. No resistance, no friction, just emptiness. It’s bizarre, but now I understand why Summer never finishes. There is no sensation!

Anzo, though, definitely feels something. His breathing quickens. So I pick up the pace. I thrust into him faster, half-heartedly aiming for his prostate. The table creaks beneath us from the force, but he doesn’t stop me, and clearly is fine with it. It takes maybe three or four minutes of steady pounding before I notice something shifting.

I don’t feel his walls tightening, Summer’s magic still shields me, but I just know he’s coming. He lets out a low gasp, and then after a moment, lifts his hand to stop me.

I freeze, then slowly pull out.

Almost immediately, the pressure in my lower belly fades, and my dick goes soft. I peel off the empty condom and take a step back.

I feel a little sick. Dizzy. I don’t know if it’s from having such an amount of my blood suddenly and artificially forced downward for a few minutes, or just because this entire situation is so absurd, so far removed from anything remotely arousing or erotic.

This wasn’t sex. It was a task, as if using a dildo. Something I did because I had to, because I owed Summer.

He saved me half an hour of hell, so I gave him thirty minutes of peace in return.

Anzo, still bent over the table, tugs his pants back up, fastens them, and only then straightens. His face is flushed and lightly sweaty. His usually slicked-back hair is in a bit of disarray. He glances at the condom, noticing it’s empty, and then looks at me. His black eyes drill into mine.

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