"Look at my dick."
"No." Buffy doesn't even lift his head from his phone.
"Look." I shake his arm.
"Why?" He finally puts his phone down.
I smile because I cannot not smile when he looks at me. "You need to look, Buffy, then only you will understand."
"Okay." He peers down at my dick.
"See this vein?" I point at the vein on the side.
He clears his throat. "Yeah."
"It's very sensitive. If you touch it I'm done." I whisper.
He licks his lips. "Oh... that's... What about this one here?" He places the tip of his ring finger on another vein that's currently bulging up at the attention.
"That too..."
He furrows his brows and looks back up. "Then what's the difference?" His hand stays right where I need it.
I shrug. "Nothing."
"Then why did you want me to look?"
Unable to stop, I laugh and pull his head down to mine. "My dick is a thing of beauty. I want you to experience it."
The pressure in my dick increases ten folds and I bury my head in his shoulder and groan. Buffy makes sex so good without trying. I mean it in the literal sense.
He doesn't try at all. I've been with enough partners to know the difference. All he has to do is make eye contact with that look and my knees go weak. One gentle touch from one of those long fingers, my dick is ready. One teeny tiny kiss on my lips and I climax.
It happened in that same sequence once. I'm ashamed of myself for being such a weakling for him. He is amazed by my response.
"Why is that no reporter is writing about your narcissistic character?" He asks and bites my ear.
"Why were you reading them?" I scratch the short strands of hair at the back of his ears. He has a tight buzz cut in the back and a sleek tiny quiff at the front. A new hairstyle can change his whole look.
A side swept pompadour? Whoa.
"To know what all this fuss is about." His fingers expertly stroke my hard on.
I moan out my words. "What's all the fuss?"
"Let me see. You write, sing, compose, dance and have a striking stage presence. You also own a freaking label and number of studios. A multi talented artist and young entrepreneur. That's why this fuss."
I want to preen at the mention of striking. "If you do it's praise, if I do it's narcissism."
"There is a word. I think it is called humble. I hear it's good for the soul."
I lick his chin. "My soul needs your dick and ass."
"You can't have both at the same time."
"Watch me."
In one swift move he disengages from me and gets out of my reach.
I clutch his pants and pull on it with all my might.
All I get for my efforts is his maniac laughs. He somehow holds onto his pants. I grab his hips and push myself on him. Strong fingers press on my waist and he lifts me up and swirls me above his head.
"Whoa..." It's my turn to laugh like a lunatic.
After a few rounds he gently puts me down on the bed. "I have to leave now. No ass or dick. Sorry."
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YOU ARE READING
A Triad With Ash Minor (MxMxM)
Short Story🅜🅐🅝 ⓧ 🅜🅐🅝 ⓧ 🅜🅐🅝 Ash Minor - singer, song writer, billboard blasting track producer. A pop star. He knows how to play the heart strings. Sometimes soothing, sometimes shooting up the blood pressure. But always playing. Word count: 120000 **...