Hmmm. Do you think you might actually start to understand, Ghalib?
A dim portion of Ghalib’s brain warned him to keep his silence, but when the hand around his cock squeezed slightly then dragged over the tip, he said, “Adel.”
The hand disappeared very briefly, then came back, slick and hot, stroking him again, this time aided by what Ghalib assumed was oil. As the hand moved faster, the sound of the bells on his ankle floated to him and the incense he constantly smelled made itself known. He inhaled deeply and moved his foot while focusing on the pleasure, the need filling him. He felt the first tingling in his balls as he approached orgasm. He groaned, rocking, despite his best efforts, into the hand around him.
“Are you close, Ghalib?” Ghalib didn’t have the capacity to speak clearly. He could only moan, rolling his hips again and thrusting into the hand. “How did his hand feel? How did his cock taste? Did you enjoy feeling him grip your hair?”
The memory exploded into his mind, vivid and clear. The feel of the hand tight in his hair, pulling, as Adel lost control dragged a groan from him. The slightly-sweet taste of Adel’s seed filled his thoughts as his balls drew up. The sound of Adel’s voice calling his name, saying “mine” nearly undid him. “Going to… need to…” he tried to warn, then inhaled the scent of the incense deeply again.
Two strokes later, just as Ghalib thought he would lose it, Nadir squeezed the base of his cock, pulling him back from the edge of orgasm. He whimpered deep in his throat, his hips rocking, cock thrusting into the air as he was released. “Beautiful, Ghalib, you’re doing beautifully.”
He struggled with breath, tried in vain to gather his wits. He gripped the peg above his head hard, unable to stop moving. He hadn’t yet been brought that close, except the instance with Adel, and not given release. His balls ached, cock hurt from the sharp need and denial.
Just as he started to calm down, Nadir moved his hand again, the stroking this time nowhere close to slow. In what felt like mere heartbeats, he was hurtling back to the edge of orgasm. A whine tore from his throat just as he thought he’d go over; then Nadir let go and he hung there, his body poised, but denied before he eased back again into desperate need.
Nadir only let him calm just enough to take the edge off. This time, he drew it out, keeping the strokes to Ghalib’s cock slow and deliberate. Enough to keep him near that edge but not enough to push him over. Firm strokes from tip to base but not back the other way, then he paused to run his thumb over the crown, play with the slit and tease the nerves just under the head. None of it was what he needed, close but not close enough. As he worked, Nadir made sure Ghalib’s ankle shifted often, sounding the bells and reminding Ghalib of the anklet.
Ghalib felt like he was drowning in the arousal and need, desperate for the orgasm he hadn’t felt in days. Since his first night, in fact, now six days ago. He could think of nothing else except the need to come… and Adel.
Despite the teasing touches, he did start to approach the edge again. As Nadir’s hands danced over his balls, they drew tighter once more and he was sure he was going to lose it, no matter how hard he tried to hold back. Yet again, he inhaled deeply, the sweet, spicy scent of the incense filling him. “I… I can’t…,” he moaned. “I need…”
“What do you need, Ghalib?” Nadir whispered, his hand tightening just a little, strokes firming.
“Need to… please…” Ghalib moaned, hips rocking again, trying to thrust into Nadir’s hand. He gripped the peg even tighter, his full, heavy balls aching to empty.
“Tell me how he tastes,” Nadir commanded.
“Sweet,” Ghalib answered without hesitation. “So sweet.”
“How does his cock feel in your mouth?”
“Thick.” It came out a moan as the memory, having not faded far, sharpened. “Felt so good. Him filling my mouth.” As the words started to spill, he couldn’t seem to stop them. “Thrusting into my throat. Groaning my name.”
“Where was his hand?”
“In my hair, gripping me, holding me still.” The memory brought an even sharper surge of arousal, pushed him to the very edge. He nearly cried as the need got to be too much.
“Who, Ghalib?” Nadir asked, softly. “Who do you want?”
“Adel!” Ghalib shouted and before he even finished the name, Nadir finally gave him the permission and final stroke he needed so badly. With the thought of Adel firmly in his mind, the orgasm roared through him, starting at the base of his spine and exploding outward. He shook with the force of it as the climax yanked the cum from his balls and shot it over Nadir’s hand, his stomach and chest in thick, hot ropes. Nadir kept stroking him and aftershocks of pleasure followed, bringing weaker spurts in the wake of the explosion.
Nadir pulled Ghalib’s cuffs off the hook first, having to almost peel Ghalib’s hands from the peg. As soon as his arms were down, Ghalib braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He was only vaguely aware of Nadir cleaning him up, rubbing his shoulders and returning the cage to him, so lost was he in his own head.
“I want him,” he whispered, voice breaking with the admission.
He felt an arm slip around his shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Nadir murmured, brushing his free hand over Ghalib’s shoulder, then hair, then running his fingers down Ghalib’s cheek. “Is it just want?”
“I…” Ghalib started, then stopped and took a breath. He couldn’t speak the words, couldn’t force them through his lips, so he shook his head.
“He’s a good man, Ghalib.”
Ghalib took a deep breath and looked up again. “I don’t… I can’t… how? Why? I don’t understand.”
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