Page 123 of Faking It Right
Harley stopped with concern. “Shit, sorry. I’ll pull out.”
I locked my legs behind his ass to stop him. “Don’t you dare.” I took a few deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside. “I didn’t go through all that to quit now.”
“Whatever you need. We’ll work with what you can take. No need to push it.”
“Is this the part where it gets good? Because so far, it’s been a lot of ‘ouch’ with rare moments of ‘Oh, that might be nice.’”
“We’re getting close.”
“In that case, keep going. When you’re not moving, it feels like having the ghost of last night’s burrito haunting my ass but refusing to cross over to the other side.”
He laughed hard enough that it made me crack up, which went a long way to making the situation less stressful. Once he recovered, he shifted his angle to thrust shallowly.
When I relaxed into the experience, he pushed in farther. My eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” There’sstillmore? What are you, part blue whale?”
“I’m making sure you get the full experience, snookums.”
“The full experience might split me in half,” I protested, though my body was eagerly accepting him despite my complaints. “I’m having trust issues with spatial dimensions right now. Everytime I think, ‘That’s physically impossible, there can’t be more,’ you prove me wrong.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m starting to think your penis is actually a portal to another dimension where the laws of physics don’t apply, and length is merely a suggestion.”
“You’re not far off.” He slid in further, making me gasp at how deep he hit.
I stared at him in disbelief, feeling impossibly full. “Please tell me that’s all of it.”
“That’s it.” His hands caressed me in silent comfort.
“Is it? Because I feel like I’m about to give birth to a bowling ball.” Every nerve ending focused on where Harley and I were connected. The stretch was intense, painful, yet somehow not unpleasant. “I think my soul left my body to make more room for you. It’s currently floating above us, looking down and saying, ‘Good luck with that, buddy.’”
He laughed, his hands stroking my thighs with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of our connection. “You’re doing amazing. Keep breathing.”
I tried to follow his advice, drawing in deep breaths that made me even more aware of how he filled me. Muscles I didn’t know I had clenched and released as they adjusted.
“This is the weirdest feeling,” I said, shifting and gasping at the resulting sensation. “It’s like you’ve rearranged my internal organs to make room for yourself. Should I be charging you rent?”
“I’d say I’m paying my dues in other ways.” He snickered. “This is why you should never tempt fate by asking, ‘How bad could it be?’ My dick takes the challenge personally.”
I shook from the overwhelming sensation of being so fully stretched out. “This can’t be real,” I whimpered, clenching around his hard length buried in me.
“What you’re experiencing,” Harley explained with scholarly seriousness betrayed only by his twitching lips, “is what the ancient Greeks called, ‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of dick.’ It was considered a religious experience.”
I snorted but couldn’t find the words to speak when it felt like his dick was in my throat.
“I’d apologize, but I’ve spent three years watching you bend over to pick up shit you’ve dropped. Consider this karmic retribution for all the blue balls you’ve given me.”
It drew a laugh from me despite the pain of being so occupied. “I really was too straight to understand what you were offering me.”
Harley affected a tour guide voice. “And if you look to your left, you’ll see the remains of Ryker’s heterosexuality. Please, no flash photography of the exhibit.”
“It’s strange,” I commented, needing to fill the silence with words to distract myself from the overwhelming feeling. “Like being full in a way I didn’t know was possible. Like when you eat too much at Thanksgiving, except the food is alive and pulsing and—never mind, that metaphor got weird fast.”
Luckily, my weirdness entertained him. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“Incredible at taking dick, apparently,” I said, a hint of genuine pride in my voice. “Who knew that would be my hidden talent?”
“You should list it on your résumé under special skills,” Harley agreed, his hands continuing their gentle exploration of my body, carefully avoiding my most sensitive areas as he gave me time to adjust. “Right next to ‘makes inappropriate jokes during sex’ and ‘looks unfairly gorgeous while being fucked.’”
