Jack wouldn't say his libido is high, he's fine going without, especially as age has settled into his body. It's just that once he starts he gets addicted to it, so focused and so desperate to squeeze as much out of the experience as possible.
He can go for a lot of rounds, and his dick giving up doesn't mean the rest of his body is done. He is happy to use anything that he's got — his fingers work magic, and his gaze and voice has led people to places they doubted existed, and his mouth is always hungry for more, that never stops.
So of course, jack Abbot is used to overstimulating people. Having them shake and cry underneath him, voices begging to stop while bodies asked for just one more. He likes it. Likes the way he feels in control, and God, does he love the way people look at him when they're fucked out and whining.
What he is not used to is people enduring more than he can give.
So it's a shock to have you come into his life. So gorgeous, and eager. Everytime he makes you come its like watching an angel fall apart, it almost makes him dizzy just watching.
But then.. you're fine again. He made you shake and cry out, your whole body trembled as you gushed around him. And a few seconds after you look like you hadn't even started, raising a brow at him to urge jack to go on— you're gonna get bored otherwise.
It keeps happening. He's lost track somewhere in the double digits. The bed was wet already, coated in all kinds of shit, as were both your bodies, he was starting to tire from all the positions he's thrown you in. His mind is hazy from the vision that you are, and from the complete emptiness of his balls.
He hisses when your hand wraps around his dick —too sensitive, he can't — guiding him back against your hole. He wants to pull away, he needs to if he wants to survive tonight. But you don't care, you just expect that fullness again. The soft moan, when he bottoms out for the nth time, makes it worth it he thinks.
And he tries, for a few long moments he tries. But no. He whimpers your name, "ah‐ baby... baby, please. You- no.. ngh." He stops moving, buried inside and shaking ontop of you doing his best not to collapse with his full weight on that gorgeous body.
So you move instead. Working your hips to bury him deeper, pull out almost to the tip, just to drive it back in. And it feels so good, so damn good jack can't breath, he's stuttering above you. Breath catching and being run off by the whines he can't stop. "You.. my god, it's too—mmhf— too good, baby.."
He doesn't pull away, and he's not sure if that's because he knows if he moves an inch he will break, or because of the obsessive need that has formed in the last — fuck, how long has it been?— to make you satisfied.
But even as you finish again, so beautifully, you don't seem to have enough. Body already moving for more. And no. No, he can't. His eyes filled with tears, arms breaking the position he's been holding to land ontop of you, and he flinches at every little clench your body gives him.
All you do is click your tongue as you push him off, and he can't help but whine at the dissappoitnment he feels radiating of your body. "Longer than most at least," you mumble, as you push yourself up. And jack has to hide his face in the pillows as you walk to the bathroom as if he hasn't been making you cum for hours.
"Next time." He promises. Both to you and to himself. Because he was gonna break you, he was going to find a way to make your mind and body melt completely. Even if he needed to use his expertise for that.
"Im sure, baby."
(Masterlist)