Page 45 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“I need you. This is amazing. I feel you everywhere.”
Now Frost did laugh for him. “Oh, not yet, but you will. Don’t worry. I intend that you feel me absolutely everywhere.”
The feather took a slide down at an angle and then began to circle his hip bone. Frost reached down and tugged his pubes in a firm hand, making him raise his hips off the bed a little bit. It wasn’t a jerk. It was a long, slow pull.
His eyes flew open. “You didn’t tell me to shave.”
“Nope. I couldn’t do this if I had.” Another of those long, slow pulls came again. He swore he could feel a couple of the hairs popping free. All the while, that feather was circling and circling and circling, making that one patch of skin itch and ache and burn just the slightest bit.
He made a couple of noises that were incomprehensible even to him, because he didn’t know what to say. So he just let his head fall back, and he closed his eyes again, shaking his head back and forth as his body accepted all these sensations.
“Good boy. I think I’ll keep you.”
“Okay.”
His hip got a little swat. “Okay?”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, okay, Sir, please.”
“Better.” Now the feather was on his sac, and he was tingling and buzzing. His hips bucked up in time with all the little strokes and taps, and at some point, he rocked back down, and instead of just rocking down into the mattress, he found himself gasping, his eyes flying open again to stare into Frost’s. Something slick and solid was nudging his hole, pushing intohim. He groaned because it was so good and so foreign and so hot.
And he wanted it.
“You do have a hungry little body, baby. You’re just going to suck up this plug, aren’t you? I told you that I was going to touch you everywhere.”
“Yes, yes. Yes, Sir.” The words were coming out, but they were whispers, like he was afraid to say anything too loud that might make it stop.
Because that might kill him at this point.
The last thing he wanted was for any of this to stop. He kept rocking, and every motion took the heavy plug just a little more in, and the tip of that feather just kept driving him insane, tapping his balls, and there was no way that it could feel so heavy because it was so tiny and so soft.
But it did.
It felt huge.
“I love how you respond to me, baby boy. I love how your body is sucking in this plug. It’s just the most perfect thing.”
“Yes. Yes, Sir. It’s perfect… Oh, please more.”
“Only just a little bit more with the feather.” Frost pushed the feather over his sac again and again then back to where the plug filled him. He couldn’t believe how that felt, this hard pressure of the plug the soft tickle of the feather. The juxtaposition of it made him groan and grunt and just try to get loose so that he could push it away or get it closer or something. To get more.
Then to his everlasting disappointment, Frost abandoned the feather.
Quentin opened his eyes again. “What are you doing?”
Frost reached up and pinched one of his nipples good and hard, twisting it slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Please, Sir. What are you doing? I like the feather.”
“I can tell you do, but there’s more to this than one implement.”
He watched with an unholy curiosity as Frost picked up the tiny, super-soft flogger. “I told you I was going to try this on you today, too.”
“You did. I just wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it.”
“Well, I did wait to see how your body was gonna react today, but I think you absolutely deserve it. Look at you; you’re just flushed and vibrating and begging for it.”
He tested his hands and legs again making sure nothing was twinging, making sure his back and neck didn’t hurt. “You’re right, Sir. Please, I need it.”
