Chapter 8
That’s… a lot.
For some reason, my lips felt dry. It felt as though his heat was spreading to me as well.
Trying to shake off that sensation, I moved my hand again. Gripping the loose skin that hung along the shaft and rubbing over the glans, I heard Celesto begin to pant.
After moving like that several times, my wrist quickly began to ache. All I was doing was holding and moving his p***s, yet it felt unexpectedly strenuous.
Is it because it’s too big?
I looked down at the flesh still extending more than half a span beyond my grasp even while wrapped in my hand. Simply moving it while sitting side by side on the bed did not seem enough to satisfy him.
Of course, Celesto’s reaction wasn’t bad. But it seemed he was merely stimulated by the novelty of someone else’s hand touching him for the first time, rather than actually having his arousal relieved.
“Mm, stay still. Don’t move.”
With that unilateral instruction, I shifted my posture toward him. Then I used both hands to grasp him.
“……!”
Celesto froze, unable even to make a sound. His green eyes darted back and forth.
Well, that wasn’t my concern. At least this was easier for me.
Forming circles with both thumbs and index fingers, I gripped around Celesto’s glans. Then with the remaining fingers, I laced my fingers together and wrapped them around the shaft.
Even like this, there’s still some left…
Thinking that, I moved my hands a few times. It definitely felt easier than before.
If it’s this much even with two hands, then doing it with one really was impossible.
Using both hands, I began stimulating him in earnest. Perhaps because the sensation was stronger now, the flesh caught between my fingers visibly flushed red.
As I continued rubbing along the shaft, a sigh suddenly spilled out above the crown of my head.
“…Hah.”
It sounded like he was suppressing something.
I retraced what I had just done. As I fumbled slightly, recalling the movement and shifting my fingers again, Celesto sucked in a sharp breath.
“…Does this feel good?”
Narrowing the circle of my thumb and index finger, I pushed back the fully drawn skin. Stimulated just beneath the ridge of the glans, Celesto clenched his teeth.
But he could not hide his weakness. His p***s began spilling copious pre-e*******e in heavy pulses, as though he might climax at any moment.
Once I had identified the sensitive spot, it became easy. I relentlessly teased the underside of his glans. His darkened shaft continuously leaked sticky fluid without pause.
Now my hand was completely soaked. As if I had applied lubricant to my hand from the start and stroked his manhood, every time I moved my hand, it made a wet, squelching sound.
Celesto, on the other hand, grew progressively quieter. He had been suppressing his breath as if determined not to make even a small sound, and now he kept his face deeply buried and didn’t move.
The longer Celesto’s silence lasted, the more the bedsheet became a mess. From the fabric crumpled in his grip, at some point, a tearing sound began—*udeuk, udeuk*—as if something was being ripped apart.
I didn’t bother to stop Celesto. Guest bedding could just be bought new… and besides, I was also holding something back.
I’m not sure exactly what it was. But whether it was because of Celesto, who was gritting his teeth as if he might explode at any moment, my body kept feeling hotter and hotter.
When this silence—not really silence—had continued for a while, Celesto finally spoke.
“Wait, Roarna.”
The words he muttered, as if chewing them out, sounded just like the cry of a beast.
I figured out his intention without difficulty. He was probably close to climax.
It seemed Celesto, unfamiliar with that sensation, was nervous.
So I didn’t heed Celesto’s words to ‘wait a moment.’ Instead, I moved my hand faster.
Celesto held on.
I moved my right thumb and started rubbing against his glans. As I lightly prodded the already moist and slippery opening, Celesto’s hips jerked violently.
“Don’t bother holding back… just come. It doesn’t matter.”
“I do mind—!”
That’s when Celesto took a sharp breath.
Instinctively, I knew. This was it.
I narrowed the circle I’d made with my fingers and tightened around his manhood. Celesto twisted his hips and moaned.
As if he couldn’t hold on any longer, his large hand grabbed my wrist.
But it was useless. I was quite dexterous, and it’s not like I would forget the weak points I’d discovered about him just because of this.
I let go of the hand gripping his shaft. Instead, I rubbed his glans with my palm, relentlessly tormenting his sensitive spots.
“…..!”
Celesto stopped breathing.
His body went rigid, and then a vigorous stream burst onto my palm. It was more than ticklish—it was almost stinging.
“Huuk… huh… haah…”
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