Logan and the fucking machine
// Honestly Iām really new to this so uh *throws this here*
Logan sighed heavily, his cheeks flushed and hands gripping at the edge of the metal table he lay on. A warm yet bony hand gently rested on his back, making Logan jump slightly. His nerves were on edge, his pupils dilated and quick breathes escaping his lips. He thought carefully over his words. He can always say no, and the other side will surely stop. But Logan didnāt want to be a, quote unquote, chicken shit, and bail out. He wanted this. With this conclusion in his mind, he sighed nervously.
āI suppose so.ā Logan finally answered, staring at the wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers a bit, tensing up when the hand left. āDonāt think.ā He thought, jaw set as he heard a whirr of the machine starting behind him. He twitched when the thick head of a fake cock pressed against his prepped hole. 'Donāt think, Donāt think, Donāt-ā
āOh, fuck!ā He gasped, scrambling for purchase on the table as the thick dildo stretched him wide. The sting was just on the edge of too much, the cock filling him up right to the last inch. He panted, eyes closed and hands clutching onto the table. He tried fruitlessly to scrape up any last bit of dignity he had, refusing to give in to the pleasure. Despite these thoughts, he can feel the precum dripping out the tip of his cock, pooling onto the table.
āGreen.ā He hissed, teeth clenched. āGo on, I am not made of glass. The human body can withstand to- Fuck! Fuck, hold on- shit!ā He rolled his hips to counter the abrupt hard and fast thrusts of the fucking machine, thighs twitching. This is what he asked for, Logan thought idly. 'Serves me right, I suppose.ā
āI can hear the gears in your brain, teach. Maybe this isnāt fast enough?ā The voice cut through his train of thought, barely giving Logan enough time to brace himself for the sudden change of speed. He rested his head against the cool metal surface of the table, shaky gasps escaping his lips as the thick cock pounded hard into him.
A hard thrust to his prostate had him arching, a very uncharacteristic cry of pleasure ripping out of his throat. He tried to stay still so the machine hit the spot every time, finding it much more difficult than he originally thought.
āShit- right there, right there, oh, fuck!ā He chanted incoherently, glasses fogged up and his body shaking. āOh god, oh god Iām cumming-!ā He gasped, body tensing up. A hand wrapped around his cock, warm and lithe, beginning to pump slowly. āSo soon, teach?ā They purred, thumbing at the tip, before gripping at the base, preventing him from reaching the climax he so desperately craved.
āAt least beg a little bit.ā
āGoodness, I-Iām gonna f-fucking ki-Ah! Kill you!ā Logan bucked his hips, shaking. āShit shit shit-! God please let me cum!ā His cheeks were red, and the words sounded forced. His dignity? Shattered. No use trying to salvage it now.
āYes! I-Iāll do anything, oh fuck-ā
āWell. Under those circumstances, thenā¦.ā
The hand let go. The reaction was almost instant.
With a broken gasp, Logan tensed and began to cum. It was a slow and breathtaking orgasm, leaving him shaking and emitting breathless whimpers as he squirmed, thighs pressing together. He twitched and lay unmoving, panting heavily.
A very out of character whine left him as the machine started up again.
Itās gonna be a long night.
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