Amber's moan vibrated around his cock. Foreman exhaled sharply, breath leaving him in explosive little bursts. Fuck, one finger felt huge, two left him clenching down tight, fear suddenly leaping into his throat again. Every fraction of an inch of movement rubbed him raw, and he didn't know--he couldn't--God--
Foreman had no idea if he cried out, wordless and sharp, or if every sound only echoed in his mind. He knew he jerked, nearly pulled his cock out of Amber's mouth with the movement. But, fuck, the feeling of Amber's fingers stroking just there, fucking Christ. On some level, he knew it was his prostate, that there were nerve endings there. All his brain would allow him to think was that he wanted it again, that deep strange pleasure, the surprising force of it. Foreman's abs tensed as he pushed for more. Amber's mouth, sucking him in, the answering twitch of her fingers, worked him into a frenzy. Not that he was bucking his hips, or even moving much, but there was a storm raging through his mind. He didn't have to move. Hands squeezing Amber's shoulders, Foreman could ease forward into the hot suction of her mouth, and then, back, there, again, shivering at the bolts of sensation. Balls tightening, cock stiff and slick; it felt timeless, like it would last forever, until with one spiking jolt, everything kicked into a higher gear.
"Fuck. I'm--Amber, you're--making me come." Garbled as the warning was, there was no way he could force out any more coherent words. All he wanted was to push through into the hot slam of sensation. Moving now. Needing to. Couldn't help it. Lightheaded, panting, Foreman drove back onto Amber's fingers one last time, and that was all it took. The stroke tipped him over the edge, a deep groan vibrated in his chest, and he came in sharp, incredible pulses of pleasure.
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Foreman had no idea if he cried out, wordless and sharp, or if every sound only echoed in his mind. He knew he jerked, nearly pulled his cock out of Amber's mouth with the movement. But, fuck, the feeling of Amber's fingers stroking just there, fucking Christ. On some level, he knew it was his prostate, that there were nerve endings there. All his brain would allow him to think was that he wanted it again, that deep strange pleasure, the surprising force of it. Foreman's abs tensed as he pushed for more. Amber's mouth, sucking him in, the answering twitch of her fingers, worked him into a frenzy. Not that he was bucking his hips, or even moving much, but there was a storm raging through his mind. He didn't have to move. Hands squeezing Amber's shoulders, Foreman could ease forward into the hot suction of her mouth, and then, back, there, again, shivering at the bolts of sensation. Balls tightening, cock stiff and slick; it felt timeless, like it would last forever, until with one spiking jolt, everything kicked into a higher gear.
"Fuck. I'm--Amber, you're--making me come." Garbled as the warning was, there was no way he could force out any more coherent words. All he wanted was to push through into the hot slam of sensation. Moving now. Needing to. Couldn't help it. Lightheaded, panting, Foreman drove back onto Amber's fingers one last time, and that was all it took. The stroke tipped him over the edge, a deep groan vibrated in his chest, and he came in sharp, incredible pulses of pleasure.