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Can't Think, Just Feel

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Patrick felt exposed. Well, he was exposed. He gave a little tug on the leather cuffs encircling his wrists, reveling in his incapacitation. The cuffs tugged on the spreader bar they were attached to, pulling his legs higher in the air. He felt a cool breeze from the open window blow across his body, emphasizing his nakedness, his vulnerability. He shifted his head side to side, then up and down trying to find a sliver of space to peek through from behind his silky blindfold, but David was right, this mask blocked out any bit of light that may try to sneak through. 

"David?" He whispered, wondering where in the room his boyfriend was waiting. When there was no response, Patrick sighed and settled back into the mountain of pillows supporting his tied up form. David had rigged him up, checked the bindings, gave him a chaste kiss, and then told him to wait. So he would wait. 

He'd already heard the shower turn on, heard his boyfriend sing Mariah slightly off-key, heard the water turn off. He'd laid in total darkness listening to the sounds of David puttering about in the bathroom attending to his post-shower skincare routine. Patrick had been able to tell when step nine was complete, but after he heard the telltale squeak click of the bathroom door opening and closing signaling David's return to the bedroom, there'd been silence. 

Patrick abandoned his attempts to locate David by sound and let the smells of his bedroom waft over him. This was even less helpful since David's signature smell enveloped him just like the pillows supporting him from behind. The slightly spicy tang of David's moisturizer, the fruity notes of his leave-in hair treatment, even the scent of David's special laundry detergent swam over him in a constant onslaught of comfort. David was everywhere and nowhere. 

But David was somewhere, watching him, silently observing from an unknown vantage point in the bedroom. Patrick wiggled again, his hard cock dripping steadily onto his belly, a puddle of precome forming in the dip of his belly button. He'd barely been touched, but Patrick was so turned on in anticipation he felt ready to explode. Patrick shifted slightly to the right and felt the puddle on his belly overflow, the cooling precome slowly dripped down his side and onto the blanket below. 

For the first time since David left the bathroom, Patrick heard him. A small gasp came from the right. Ah, David had been watching him from the desk chair. Now that Patrick had a noise to focus on, he strained to hear any other sounds from that side of the room. It took a moment, but he could finally hear David's shallow breathing and the telltale slick sounds of a lubed hand sliding slowly over flesh. 

David was watching him and touching himself. 

Patrick had never been so deliciously uncomfortable during a scene before. He felt like a display piece in one of David's old art galleries. Something to be looked at and judged and admired. Patrick desperately wanted to move, put on a show, perform for David. That's what Patrick knew how to do. He didn't know how to sit and wait and be patient. 

"David?" He whispered again? "Please?"

He heard movement from David's direction and turned his head, still seeing nothing. Then he felt the mattress dip under David's weight as his boyfriend settled in, the tops of his knees tucked under the backs of Patrick's lifted thighs.

David still said nothing, but Patrick felt fingertips delicately tracing a path from ass cheeks to the backs of his knees. Over and over David's fingers wandered up and down, each pass trailing tantalizingly closer to Patrick's hole. He couldn't help it, he bucked his hips, using his bound arms to try and lift his ass closer to David, demanding attention.

David huffed out a small laugh, the loudest sound he'd made since he'd strapped Patrick into his bindings. Patrick could feel David's hands stop on the backs of his thighs and he let out a tortured groan.

"Jesus, David. I can't… just touch… fuck I'm… so fucking hard, touch me please!"

He was whining and he didn't care. How David could be so calm and quiet right now, Patrick couldn't understand. But finally, after a few more moments of agonizing stillness, Patrick felt a single slick finger begin to trace circles around his entrance. Patrick hadn't fully realized how desperate he was for that touch until he finally had it. His dick twitched twice and a third time, his cock still steadily spurting precome from the slit. He'd never been so wet before. As Patrick finally settled into the hypnotic sensation of David's single finger, it was gone. Patrick produced a pitiful whine that didn't even sound like any noise he'd ever made before. Did that even come from him? Where did David's finger go? 

"Come baaahhh-- oh fuck yes."

David's fingers were back. This time two breached his entrance, lube dripping from David's fingers, more being squeezed from an unknown height dripping down over Patrick's balls to his perineum to his hole. Patrick's whole world narrowed to David's two fingers sliding perfectly smoothly in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out; focused, meditative. 

Two fingers turned to three and David began making little aroused whimpering sounds while he steadily fucked Patrick. Every third or fourth press he twisted his hand or crooked his fingers hitting Patrick's prostate. It wasn't enough to make him come yet, but the slight variations kept him anchored in the moment, hyper-aware of the beautiful sensations radiating from his most sensitive place all the way to his fingers and toes. 

The steady onslaught of fingers continued, any pattern David had settled into was gone, and Patrick lost all sense of time and space. His whole world was David's fingers. Sometimes there were three, sometimes he went back to two, every so often he'd remove his fingers and soothingly stroke Patrick's hole with the pad of his thumb. Patrick thought he could stay here forever. Then David finally spoke.

"Can you come like this? I want to see you come on my fingers."

It took Patrick longer than usual to register what David was asking. He could feel his mouth opening and closing wordlessly, but had no control over it. He was brought back to the present by a small kiss to the back of his left thigh, though he still couldn't form words and just nodded.

"Mmh… good boy, but I need words, Patrick."

"Yes--" he croaked, "yes, I can come, please, David, please."

Immediately three fingers entered Patrick's hole. The intrusion was sharp, just over the edge of painful and Patrick was back in it, trying again uselessly to buck up to get David's fingers deeper. More lube came from somewhere and Patrick knew his asshole was a dripping sloppy mess. He wished he could see it. He wanted to see a picture of how sloppy he was. Could he ask David for that? Maybe? But before he could take that thought any further, David added his pinky finger to the mix and the only brain cell left working in Patrick's brain was chanting "more, more, more…"

As four fingers pushed and curled and twisted inside him, Patrick felt the tingling of an impending orgasm spread through his belly. He was so close, he just needed something more, and OH! David was licking Patrick's rim and gently sucking on Patrick's balls and he was coming, he was coming untouched, come spurting from his throbbing cock shooting up his belly, onto his chin, onto the mask covering his eyes. The silent room was filled with Patrick's desperate groans and a choked-off scream of ultimate pleasure.

Patrick sunk into the bed, every muscle in his body spent and exhausted. He let loose a petulant moan as David's fingers slowly pulled out. David's breath was ragged and loud as he unbuckled Patrick from his restraints and checked his wrists and ankles for injury. Mask still on, Patrick let his limbs stretch and relax as he felt David straddle his hips and settle his ass over Patrick's softening cock. Hearing the distinctive fap fap fap of hand moving on skin, Patrick used his last remaining bit of strength to remove his mask and was greeted with the sight of David jacking his cock furiously, back arched, one hand pinching his own nipple. It only took a few more seconds before David's orgasm hit him, his come streaking across Patrick's torso, adding to the already sticky mess that covered him. David collapsed over Patrick’s body and his half-functioning brain knew there was no better place he'd rather be. He wrapped all four limbs around David, holding him close and felt David give a light squeeze back. Cleanup could wait, right now he would rest in his boyfriend's arms.