Shelter from the Storm Pt. 02 - Sex Stories

Shelter from the Storm Pt. 02

... again that I was nothing but an object, a possession, a plaything. Like nothing about me mattered except the way it made him feel to pump his cock in my mouth.

And it made me feel so, so good.

His hands holding me in place made me feel anchored, safe, owned, used. The fullness of my mouth and throat was intoxicating; the thrusting rhythm of his cock was the only thing my mouth was good for, the only thing that mattered, the only point to me. I became aware that my cock was rock-hard. A rush of shame swept through me. Why was I responding like this to the way he was using me? And yet at the same time, I realised that I couldn't resist this feeling. I wanted it. I wanted to be a submissive little fuck object for him.

Faster and faster he fucked my mouth, that huge, hard thickness pumping in my throat while I drooled uncontrollably. Then I felt his fingers tighten on either side of my head, and the first warm, thick, milky spurt of cum burst out of his cock. Again and again it came, a huge load surging into my mouth, and I was struggling to swallow -- the cum was already dribbling out of my mouth and dripping down my chin. Sam let out a massive, groaning sigh while I choked and gagged on his shuddering, spurting cock. And then at last he was done, and the last drops of cum slid onto my tongue as he slowly withdrew.

I gasped for air, panting, flat on my stomach with my head at the edge of the bed. Sam bent down, a gentle hand cupping my face, and kissed me softly on ...

... the forehead. I leant my head into his hand, taking deep breaths, and let him gently stroke my cheek.

"Good boy," he murmured. "You're really learning what your place is now."

He kissed me again, and then he turned, and strode away to the shower.

I moaned, feeling overcome with a confusing mixture of giddy pleasure at his praise, and the fresh degradation of him dropping me and leaving for the shower the moment he had come. There was something about it that made me feel blissfully light-headed. I felt all the more like a possession, an object he had used and then discarded once he had taken his pleasure in me.

Then I felt an arm slip around my waist, and pull me firmly back into the middle of the bed. Gratefully, eagerly, I crawled back to James. He pulled me close and held me against him in his big, strong arms, and I snuggled into his chest. I felt small and naked and helpless. Just to curl up in his arms, with his hard, naked body wrapped around mine, was such a sweet relief that it made me almost swoon. I was warm, and safe, and tightly held.

"Did you like your face-fucking, Aston?" James murmured to me.

All I could give in response was a faint little moan. I whimpered into his chest. He laughed softly.

"You submitted like an obedient fucktoy," he said, stroking my hair. "I'm proud of you, Aston. You're doing so well at learning to be a good little slave."

I shivered with pleasure, and snuggled closer against him. He ran his hand down my back, and ...