It’s not the most intense stimulation. It’s not even a tight fit. Ty’s loose lips feel like the cool, flimsy plastic of a water wriggler toy, but wetter, or maybe like those shitty DIY fleshlights teen boys make out of latex gloves and cornstarch. Chase may as well be fucking a jello mould of his boyfriends face.
He pauses at that, hand gripping his cock. Is Ty his boyfriend? Not really, but the idea of melting your boyfriend down and then fucking his sloppy malformed mouth sounds hot. He certainly enjoys fucking him, as well as calling him pet names.
But Chase is a dom, a service top to be specific, and he’s had plenty of small flings with no strings attached. The main difference here is Ty’s inability to leave. Or walk. Or speak. That is appealing— not that Chase wants an inanimate partner. On the contrary he would much prefer someone he can go out with and introduce to his friends.
But there’s a very sick sense of pleasure he gets at that idea. Bringing out a bowl and showing his friends. ‘This is my bitch.’ Ty would blush at that, and being displayed to a group of rowdy young men as if he were nothing but a desert flan. Some weird little dough ball boy sitting in his lap during a movie, powerless to stop Chase from force feeding him bits of popcorn, straight into his mouth. Squirming as Chase became erect and decided to pop one off right then and there.
He likes taking care of it too. A little TLC after the coerced, forceful fuck.
Chase never had to admit this to himself before, but then again he’s never had access to something, or someone like Ty. A literal plaything.
Before long Chase is pumping rope after rope of cum into Ty, who begins to purl and lap at the sides of the bowl in wavelets of upset putty. His lips smack together messily as he tries to swallow the sudden influx of spunk, a little mound of tongue pushing back weakly against it all and failing to do anything but make a choking gurgle.
The cum pushes through Ty and mixes with his soupy self, like adding water to an already wet clay. He coughs through his mouth fold, splattering cum and spit and some of himself over Chase’s crotch, his eye wrinkles shutting tighter as Ty lets out complaint moan and groans.
Chase plops down and catches his breath, then cleans himself up. He leaves the mess he made of Ty on the floor.