Master could not help himself. Four times tonight and his cock was hardening again, rising against his thigh as he watched his slave sleep curled at the foot of the bed. The boy was perfection — lean, smooth, obedient to the cellular level — and Master’s desire for him was insatiable. He nudged the sleeping slave with his foot. Wake up. The boy’s eyes opened instantly, trained to respond to Master’s voice even from deep sleep. He saw the erection and immediately assumed position — face down, ass up, legs spread, hands gripping the bed frame. Good boy. Master mounted him without preamble, his cock sliding easily into the hole he had already used four times tonight. The boy was loose and sloppy with previous loads, and the wet squelching sound as Master pushed inside made them both groan. Despite the hours of use, the sensation was electric. Master would never tire of this hole, this body, this total submission. He fucked slowly at first, savoring the warmth and the broken-in looseness, his previous loads serving as lube as he built his rhythm. The slave pushed back obediently, his own cock hardening for the fifth time as Master filled him yet again. I own you, Master growled, increasing his pace. Yes Sir, the slave whispered into the pillow, his voice hoarse from the night’s activities. Master fucked him for another thirty minutes, his stamina seemingly inexhaustible when it came to this particular boy. Load number five joined the others deep inside his insatiable slave.
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