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"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I want it. Ple—. Oh, gawd, oh gawd, oh fuccccck." Rick's knuckles went white from his death grip on the slats of the headboard and he turned his head to the side and bit into a pillow, his nose taking in the unmistakable scent of his mother's perfume as Pete began his long slide inside.
But once deep inside Pete held until Rick began to tremble and whimper.
"What is it you want?"
"Pete, please."
"Please what?"
"Give it to me. Please. Pump me. Fuck me."
Pete laughed a deep, guttural laugh. "Thought so."
And then Rick gasped and tried to widen his legs further, as the cock began to pump him deep and the sound of the bed frame rhythmically beating a tattoo against his bedroom wall commenced its music of the night.
He was deep into the fuck himself now. Wanting it. Meeting thrust for thrust as Pete grunted and laughed. "See, you're a natural. You want to have it as bad as I want to take it. You're a little slut. But I can pull out now. I can stop giving it to you. You want that?"
"Nooo," Rick pleaded. "No, all of it, deep please. Fuck me!"
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