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I want to peg Ike, to see his sweet body quiver beneath me in pleasure. To tenderly kiss his lips, to nibble his ear and his neck. To stroke his body until he is blinded by the fog on his glasses. I want to tie him up and force him to the ground, his voice hoarse from my hand around his throat, begging me to move faster, touch him more. But I will not because this is my show, and his pleasure is secondary to my enjoyment. I want to slide my fingers in his ass and stretch his hole till he is ready, to massage his prostate until he begs for me to fuck him. I want to delicately slide my dildo in his supple ass while he moans in ecstasy, tears and drool streaming down his face. I want to grab him by the hair and pump him stupid until the sheets beneath him are a pool of lube and cum.
After I've made him squeal and orgasm to my satisfaction I want to hold him close and tell him he did a good job while he licks my strap clean; let him know that he is a good boy. I want to pat his head and whisper loving affirmations, his glasses askew and his face a mess.
Nothing else could satisfy me like pegging Ike. I love him so much and want to show my love by making him feel the sheer pleasure of having his prostate pounded. I long for his voice calling my name while I give him all the pleasure he could ever want.
