Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
But fuck, this felt so good. Tyler was sucking in sharp breaths as he pushed back on his fingers, moaning when his fingers grazed against his prostate. Fuuuck.
Tyler’s dazed gaze fell on the nightstand again. The dildo was thicker and longer than his fingers. It would probably feel more satisfying.
Maybe just once? Trying a dildo once wouldn’t be too gay. No one had to know. Not even Nick.
That was how Tyler found himself moaning loudly as he fucked himself with the bright pink dildo his best mate had bought for him. Shit. He knew he was loud, that he should be quieter—the walls weren’t very thick—but he couldn’t help it. He was so full. The stretch was delicious, and he couldn’t stop whining every time the dildo pushed against his overstimulated prostate. It was almost too much and he barely had the coordination to make the dildo move in and out of him. All he wanted was to lie back and take it, to lose himself in this sensation of being fucked. Maybe he should invest in a strap-on. Maybe he should find a super open-minded girlfriend who wouldn’t mind fucking him instead of making him fuck her.
Tyler groaned at the thought, imagining a hot blonde with large breasts that would jiggle as she fucked him with her cock—her strap-on, not her cock. Because Tyler wasn’t into cock. Sex toys that looked like a cock didn’t equal a real cock. A real cock would probably feel so much different from the dildo in his ass anyway. Probably nowhere near as good. A real cock wouldn’t be so hard. A real cock wouldn’t be able to fuck him as hard as he wanted—
Tyler groaned and came, waves upon waves of toe-curling pleasure rolling over him as he clenched hard around the cock—the dildo—in his ass.
Tyler sat up, still breathing raggedly, and stared at the jizz on his stomach. Holy shit. He’d never come without touching his cock at all. Not even when he was a teenager.
Sighing, he flopped back on the mattress. He didn’t bother pulling the dildo out. He knew he would be ready again in fifteen minutes, and he didn’t kid himself into thinking that he could wank without wanting something in his ass.
These days, he always seemed to want something in his ass, which was…a bit worrying. This was turning into an obsession.
Tyler sighed again, running a hand over his face. Maybe he really should start looking for that open-minded girlfriend who wouldn’t mind fucking him with a strap-on.
Chapter 3
The word obsession was pretty damn inadequate, Tyler thought despairingly as he sank down on his brand new, six-inch-long dildo, suction-cupped to the chair in his bedroom. He was breathing heavily, gasping as he clenched around the thick toy in him. Fuck, it felt so good. The fullness felt incredible, but it wasn’t enough. He’d found that he liked the feeling of a cock—dildo, dammit—moving in him the best; having one inside him just wasn’t enough. He wanted thrusting. He wanted to be fucked.
Biting his lip hard, Tyler started riding the dildo harder, little moans slipping out of his mouth as it grazed his prostate. Fuck, fuuck—
His glazed eyes caught the picture of his parents on his nightstand, and Tyler flushed, imagining what he looked like—what his Christian parents would think if they saw him now, riding a dildo like some slutty thing. Shame hit him again, but he couldn’t stop. He glanced down at his thighs trembling with the effort and his red, hard cock—and felt another wave of embarrassment. The glistening head of the dildo looked disturbingly like a cock head as it breached him—
Tyler came untouched, crying out in a voice that didn’t even sound like his own.
God.
Tyler stared unseeingly at the picture of his parents, flushed and out of breath, the fake cock still clenched inside his ass. He wondered what his parents would say if they found out that this was the closest thing to a religious experience that he had ever felt.
Bloody hell, he needed help.
* * *
“I think I have a problem,” Tyler said grimly, nursing his beer.
He could feel Nick’s attention sharpening. “A problem?”
Tyler took a big gulp from his beer, set it down, and looked Nick in the eye. “I haven’t picked up in three weeks.”
Nick’s eyebrows crept up. “Are you serious?”
Tyler nodded miserably. He knew why Nick was surprised, of course. It had been years since he hadn’t gotten laid in such a long time. Picking up every few days was the norm for him. Three weeks was abnormal, to put it mildly.
“Why not?” Nick said.
Tyler felt his face become warm. He wanted to say that it was too much effort, but lying wouldn’t help the situation. Nick wouldn’t be able to help if he didn’t know the extent of his problem.