Each sweet sigh, each whimpering breath, has Quentin groaning. He gave up the playful, light smacks on his ass. Instead, he gripped him by the hips and held him. It was easier to fuck when he held him still.

Now, he doesn't care so much about Corbin's pleasure. The boy will touch and stroke and play with himself, he'd get off on this because that's the goal, but Quentin is focused almost entirely on the filthy act of getting himself off. And Corbin's sweet, freshly deflowered ass is just what he needs for that.

It doesn't take much at all to build up to the speed and force he wants. He fuck him hard and fast, angled to stroke over that sweet spot inside him with each thrust. "That's it, baby. That's it. You take it so good, sweet boy."