Page 22 of Filtration Play
They slid their finger up inside him, and when they crooked it, pleasure flared hot and furious through him.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned.
“Well, that was easy,” they drawled. “I bet you’d come from prostate orgasms alone. If I locked your cock up and milked your prostate every day, you’d make the prettiest noises.”
The idea of them locking his cock away—holy fuck. His balls ached with the threat of spilling, even though they weren’t sucking him off. They stroked again, and another flare of heat shot through him. Fin licked his tip again while they crooked their finger over and over until his legs quaked. He’d always had a sensitive prostate, and the way they played with him, how their palm pressed up against his taint as he rode their hand, had him reeling in overdrive.
The fact that he couldn’t see them during this got him so much hotter.
Fuck, he might even blow without their mouth on him. Except he craved it so badly.
“Please,” he begged again.
“Please what, sweetness?” Fin teased, an amused note to their tone. They continued to stroke at his prostate until he was gasping. The possessive way they touched him felt so damn good. Too good.
“Please suck me off.” His voice came out in a whimper. “I can’t last much longer.”
“You’re so good for me. I can’t say no when you beg so prettily.”
He swallowed hard, his whole body on fire. He was so aware of every hitched breath, every puff of warm air from their mouth, every stroke and lick.
Wet heat surrounded the tip of his cock, and he let out a choked noise. Fin sucked hard, and they took in inch after inch of him, their hand still circling his base while he rode their other hand, their finger buried deep inside him. They swallowed him down, and the tightness around his cock almost had him spilling at once. His mind completely blanked of everything but the sensation of their mouth and the squeeze of wet heat around him, their finger stroking against his prostate again and again.
He moved on automatic, even with his arms strapped to his side, just a shift of his hips as he grew consumed by them. They shifted up and down on his cock, and with the way they continued to tag his prostate to the same tempo, he barreled toward an orgasm at top speed.
Sweat prickled on his forehead, and his skin felt hyperaware, as if someone had applied paint and it was beginning to dry. Fin sucked him with a force that made him light-headed, and his limbs trembled, even though he hadn’t come yet. The need had formed a drum beat inside him, growing louder and louder by the second.
He didn’t bother restraining his moans, even though they reverberated through the empty space. All the sounds did was remind him of how they were fucking in this desolate space, of how exposed he was—and blindfolded and restrained at that—and how much he fucking loved it.
The tension built to the point his very molecules vibrated from it. Fin crooked their finger again and sucked him down hard.
His balls drew up, and he came with explosive force.
His mind seared with the sheer strength of his orgasm, and the intensity made his limbs quake, even though they were still restrained. Pleasure rushed him in an engulfing force, and he surrendered to it, wanting to stay in this brief place of bliss for as long as possible. Hefloated there, just existing in this blissful moment, a simplicity he’d always yearned for.
The breaths volleyed from him in the wake, his shoulders heaving, sweat trickling down his face, his back. Fin’s mouth was around his cock, their finger still buried in his ass. They continued to give a few sucks, even though he was oversensitized at this point.
“Fuck,” he gasped out as he settled back into his body.
Fin pulled off his cock and retracted their finger. A moment later, his blindfold fell away from his eyes, and he blinked until the dim light of the room registered in his vision, mottled with grays, whites, and blacks.
“Such a good boy for me.” Fin patted him on the cheek. The indulgent tone held the slightest bit of demeaning to it that sent a shiver through him. God, he liked that far too much. “Let me get you out of the bondage tape.”
In a few quick tweaks, the bondage tape fell from his limbs, and the restraint that had been applying subtle tension to him evaporated. He grew dizzy, almost toppling, but Fin was at his side.
“We should get out of here,” they said. “Get you your emergency bar.”
Fuck, was that what was happening to him? He felt a bit like he waded through fog. Which was a little like a blood sugar drop, but an element of other existed. He grabbed the hard candy from his pocket and popped it in his mouth.
“You drop deep, don’t you?” Fin said wonderingly. They pulled his boxer briefs and pants up to his hips, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed at how they dressed him like a child. They slung his arm over their shoulders, their equipment over the opposite one. “Come on.”
He made his legs move as they walked through the abandoned warehouse a bit faster than their initial approach. Still, he felt steady, braced against Fin, who seemed as solid as ever. Their hair was mussed, but apart from that, they looked completely fine. Normal. While he was sure he looked like he’d been spat out by a washer and dryer.
They exited the building, the glaring late afternoon sun disorienting. He squinted, the sheer force of it threatening to overwhelm. After being blindfolded, the dim light in the space, a blood sugar drop, and whatever fugue state he wandered through after their play, he was reeling.
“Keep steady,” Fin said. “We’ll get you to your car, and then we’ll see where you stand after.”
Anything but standing sounded fucking lovely. The field they tromped through wobbled in his vision a bit.
