The Caregiver

And then he slid up into me, deep. I arched my back, breaking the pressure of his hand on the small of my back and rose up, throwing an arm around his neck and bringing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. He grabbed my hips with his hands and pumped me slowly with his cock, in long oil-slicked slides in to where his helmet dragged back across my prostate and then deep glides, loving and churning and stretching my channel walls.

He broke the kiss and laughed, and pushed my chest back down on the table. Then he started pumping me in earnest, in long, gliding motions.

“Ahh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh,” I cried. “Give it to me, Lenny, shoot off in me. Deep, like this.”

“Deep like this?” Lenny asked, the amusement in his voice dancing. “I haven’t gone deep yet, Lover. This is me going deep.”

And he pushed my legs out wider with a slap of his feet, grabbed my butt cheeks and pulled them wide apart, and plunged his oiled rod a good two and half inches deeper than he’d gone up me before.

“No . . . No!” I screamed. “It hurts. I don’t think I can . . . Ugh . . . Ahhh . . . Yes. Oh, yes, Lenny. Lenny! Lenny!!! Give it to me. I want it all. Just like that! Pump me, Man. Fill my stomach with your sweet cum.”