Page 41 of Free Heart
Sejin’s legs shake, he covers his face again, and then nods frantically. “I want it.”
I consider. We’ve joked about it before, but I remember the gleam in Sejin’s eye, how he’d seemed like he wasn’t joking at all. “Why do you want it?” I ask.
“I’ve never…and I need to feel…something.” He uncovers his face, and his eyes are glossy but lucid. “Something overwhelming. Please.”
I know what he means. He needs something so intense that it anchors him in the here and now. Everything else—fear, worry,anxiety—will drop away. I can relate. That’s what happens on the wall.
Quickly, I calculate, do I have enough lube? I’ve only done this one other time with a guy I met at a bar in Denver. We’d had a tub of Boy Butter on hand. Sejin and I just have a rather big container of Wet Platinum brand lube. I pick it up and scan the back of the bottle. It does list “fisting lubricant” as one of its uses. I move my fingers, still lodged in Sejin, as I ponder. He writhes, and his long cock dribbles a little cum from the tip. I make up my mind.
“I could try it. If you really want me to,” I murmur. “I can see how many I can fit in. If it happens, it happens.”
“Please,” Sejin whimpers, his hole clenching on my knuckles. “Please try.”
I chew on my lower lip, reading over the back of the Wet Platinum bottle again. It’s mostly full. The stuff is slippery. But if this isn’t enough or he doesn’t like it, Sejin can always tell me to stop.
“Okay,” I agree. “Why not?” If I can climb up a giant wall without ropes, risking my life, then Sejin can attempt to take my whole fist inside his asshole if he wants to. I can respect his need to push to the edge sometimes. Blot out the world and just feel. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
Sejin nods and relaxes back to the sofa, letting me take control. I think about how he always loves when I take charge and how the accident has kept me from doing that for weeks now. I can give him this reprieve, take him to a place where he puts himself in my care again.
His eyes flutter as he settles into the rhythm of my fingers moving inside him. I breathe in and out as I keep adding lube and sliding more fingers past his straining sphincter. I consider what he must be feeling. I watch every shuddering breath. I take in his dilated pupils when he opens his eyes to gaze at me ina slutty-looking daze, and notice his dark-stained cheeks as he flushes all over with effort and arousal.
As I open him further and further, he starts to shake, and the noises coming out of him are delicious. When I get to my thumb, I stare at him as I push the tip inside, amazed that he’s taking it. I know if I pull out now, he’ll be gaping wide open, red and hungry for me. Cursing under my breath, I shift a little—ignoring the horrible twinge of pain in my leg—so I can get more comfortable and achieve a little more leverage. I can’t wait to see his hole wrapped around my wrist. I pour lube heartily over the joint of my thumb and the thickest part of my hand. Thank God the blanket from my van is protecting Peggy Jo’s couch, or we’d owe her a new one.
Finally, I press the base of my knuckles against his hole, testing the resistance. His rim feels stretched and tight, like he might not be able to open all the way for me. My heart pounds as I lick my lips, preparing myself for the next step—shoving inside.
“This is it,” I whisper. “Do you want to go on?”
I feel lightheaded as Sejin, sweaty and flushed, and far too overcome to speak, reaches down and takes hold of my wrist. He gazes right at me, and then takes a deep, deep breath, lets it out, and nods.
I push.
“Fuuuck!” he cries, as he bears down hard to help me.
I’m shocked and delighted to feel my hand sliding into him. It’s not easy, and it’s not fast, but gradually, millimeter by millimeter, I work the widest part of my hand inside. When his rim finally gives in, and I slide into his slick, velvety heat up to my wrist, Sejin is growling like an animal and quaking all over, like when I’ve made him come anally a few times in a row.
I’m sweating and my leg is throbbing, but I’m giddy too. I’m in his body in a way I can pretty much guarantee no man has been before, and he’s lost in the moment here with me. Noworries. No fears. Just my hand and all that sensation washing over him in waves of intensity.
“Okay?” I ask, and his lips and chin tremble. Tears slide down his cheeks, but he nods. “I love you,” I whisper.
His breath hiccups, and he peels his eyes open again to stare at me with a watery, amazed gaze. “I love you too.”
It’s raw and guttural, like he’s split open with pleasure and shock.
I don’t think I can properly fist-fuck him today, not at this angle and not without bothering my leg, but I will one day. For now, I’m gonna keep him drooling with pleasure like I did before this damn injury. I’ll keep him addicted to me and what I can do to his hole.
“Oh, God,” he groans as I make a fist inside of him, and then work it firmly against his prostate. I rotate my hand so each knuckle knocks the gland. He jitters so hard I think he’s going to fall off the couch, but he grabs hold of the back and steadies himself. “Fuck, Dan,” he whimpers, high-pitched and wild. “Fuck…I’ve never…have you?” He shudders hard, and his eyes roll back.
I work my fist some more until he’s totally nonverbal, juddering, and leaking cum like a small fountain. His nipples are hard, and his hole looks dark and impressive stretched around my wrist. His thighs jump and tremble like he’s run up a hundred flights of stairs.
I’m sweating from effort, and my wrist is getting tired. My arm aches a little in this position. Still, it’s worth it for him to lose it like this, for me to have him this way, to know that I can still reduce him to this whenever he lets me.
“Can you come with my fist in you?” I ask, curious. Some guys can’t. I, for example, couldn’t the one time I let someone try this with me. I went entirely soft.
But Sejin? Well, he’s still hard. Which isn’t a surprise because he’s as into his ass as I am, just in the opposite way—receiving instead of giving. If I didn’t love getting fucked, he’d probably never protest being an exclusive bottom with me. I like knowing that.
Sejin’s mouth opens to answer, but all that comes out are groans, and whimpers, and high-pitched pleasure sounds. He croons like he did in the days before my injury when I’d fuck him to sobs and screams. So I work him harder inside, my wrist circling, my arm pumping, but not enough to upset my leg too badly. I make sure to nail his prostate with every twist.
He writhes, his entire body convulses, and then he suddenly goes very still. His eyes fly wide open, and he stares at me for a bright, hot second before he squeezes them shut again and his rim grips my wrist hard. Thick stripes of cum fly from his cock and paint over his body. A few drops splatter to the wood floor. I feel a little bad about that because he’ll have to clean it up since I can’t.
