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The bedroom was softly lit by a lamp on the nightstand. Warm golden light spilled across the wide bed. Shane stood in front of the full-length mirror, cheeks already flushed. He had ordered the panties on a whim weeks ago, delicate black lace with a cutout at the back. He was quick to choose the first interesting option, so ended up with women’s underwear. It was meant to be a surprise for Ilya, something cute and teasing to drive his husband wild.
But the moment he pulled them up, the problem became obvious. His cock was simply too big. Even soft it had been a challenge, and now that he was half-hard from anticipation, the thick length refused to stay tucked inside the delicate fabric. The head pushed insistently against the lace, stretching it obscenely. A wet spot was already forming where he leaked, the material clinging transparently to the flushed tip.
Shane bit his lip. He adjusted himself again, trying to push the massive shaft down and to the side, but it only made the panties ride up higher between his cheeks and caused another bead of precome to soak through. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “This was supposed to be sexy, not ridiculous.” The other problem was Shane’s thick thighs. He’d thought the sizing would be roughly the same to what he normally wore, but the panties squeezed his hips and cut into the skin. This was supposed to be seductive, but now Shane felt ridiculous and uncomfortable. The sheer lace on the front was also resting tightly against his tip, and it was starting to feel bad.
The door clicked open. Ilya stepped in, still in his post-practice hoodie, and froze. His eyes darkened instantly as they raked over Shane’s body, lingering on the fragile black lace struggling to contain him.
“Fuck,” Ilya breathed. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. “What is this, pretty boy? Are you trying to impress your husband?”
Shane’s face burned hotter. He turned slightly, giving Ilya a better view of the back, despite the embarrassment. “I thought… you might like them. But my dick is too big. It won’t even stay in.”
Ilya crossed the room in three strides. His hands settled on Shane’s hips, thumbs tracing the delicate lace edges. “Too big,” he repeated, voice dropping low and threatening. “Of course it is. Look at you. Such a pretty hole, putting on a show so nicely, and this stupid, massive cock ruining everything. Leaking already, you know it doesn’t belong in something so cute and tiny.”
(It doesn't belong in anything at all.)
Before Shane could respond, Ilya hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged the panties down just enough to free the heavy length. It sprang out, thick and flushed, bobbing heavily against Shane’s stomach. Ilya gave it a light slap, watching it sway. “See? This big, dumb thing has no business trying to hide. It’s useless anyway. You never get to use it.”
Shane whimpered. His hips twitched forward instinctively, but Ilya’s grip tightened and guided him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He pushed Shane facedown onto the rumpled sheets, dragging the panties down so the opening at the back was positioned to properly expose his hole. Ilya applied lube to his fingers and pressed in, first one, then two. Shane opened easily for him, moaning as Ilya fucked him onto his fingers. Then Ilya was pushing inside, thick and hot and fast, all with a low groan.
“Fuck, you’re so tight for me. Now stay still,” Ilya said.
Shane wanted so desperately to move. He needed to feel Ilya grinding deep inside him, occupying every inch of space. It was agony to be so fucking still, throbbing with anticipation like this. He felt so full already and was dying for more stimulation. Each time he tried to squirm, Ilya grabbed his hips to stop them.
Ilya, keeping himself inside Shane, rolled them onto their sides. Shane whimpered, thinking he was finally going to be getting what he wanted, but Ilya shushed him. “Be still for me, be my good little hole. Wait patiently.”
So Shane whined some more and kept obediently still. Ilya’s cock stayed stretching him open, and Shane locked his hands together so he wouldn’t absentmindedly stroke his own dick. Behind him, Ilya grabbed his phone off the nightstand and scrolled, ignoring Shane clenching every now and then to try and remind Ilya of what he wanted. A gentle slap would come down on Shane’s ass each time he started to wriggle. “I decide, Shane. I decide. Keep holding my cock inside you.”
They had been like this for twenty minutes. Ilya just stayed there, buried to the hilt, hot and unmoving. Shane’s own dick lay heavy and untouched against his stomach. Massive, thick, and as always, leaking like a fucking fountain.
And completely, utterly fucking useless. The panties were still tangled around his hips, awkwardly digging in so much that they were sure to leave a red mark, a ridiculous reminder of how this had started.
Ilya suddenly pulled out. He moved Shane’s thighs, forcing them open and Shane onto his back. His hand wrapped around the base of Shane’s leaking cock. He squeezed once, hard enough to make Shane jolt. “Look at this stupid thing,” he growled. His accent was thick and his tone smug. “So fucking massive. Biggest cock I’ve ever seen. And you never get to use it, do you? Never. Ever. Tops.” Ilya punctuated each word with a light smack to Shane's neglected cock. “Because this big, dumb dick doesn’t belong inside anyone. It’s just decoration. Mine to ignore. Your cute little panties could never hold all of this in.”
Shane keened. His hips (and hole) twitched uselessly, needy for Ilya to go back to his rightful place inside. “Ilya—”
“Say it,” Ilya said. He snapped his hips forward once, to fill Shane again. The motion was sharp and deep and made Shane whimper. Ilya nailed Shane’s prostate again and made him cry out. “Tell me. Right now. While I’m fucking you. Say it back to me, moya lyubov’.”
Shane’s breath hitched at the word. But Ilya didn’t give him time to savour it. He started thrusting slowly and relentlessly, dragging against that spot with every stroke.
“I never top,” Shane gasped. His voice broke. “My dick is… it’s useless—”
“Louder,” Ilya ordered. He slammed in harder. One hand pinned Shane’s hip down. The other still lazily held that massive, untouched cock like it was nothing. “Again. Tell me what a waste this big stupid cock is while I’m deep in your pretty hole.”
“It’s useless,” Shane moaned. Tears pricked his eyes from the overwhelming stretch and the humiliation. “I never top. Never. It’s just— fuck— it’s just a waste—”
“Good boy,” Ilya purred. “Such a shame, isn’t it? This huge, heavy cock dripping all over you and you don’t need it. You don’t even want it. Look how it leaks like a fountain. Just like a sweet little pussy, so wet for me. My good boy’s useless dick making such a mess while I fuck that pretty hole.”
Shane’s head fell back. He sobbed out a moan as Ilya fucked him faster. “I don’t need it. I'm just a hole, Ilya. It’s useless, it’s stupid, it’s all yours—”
Ilya laughed and leaned down to bite at Shane’s neck. “That’s right. This cock is mine anyway. My pretty husband’s big, useless dick. No one else will ever have it. You don’t even get to touch it unless I say so. And I don’t think I feel like touching it for you right now. Pretty boy doesn’t need his stupid cock touched. It just leaks and leaks while I take what’s mine. What a needy hole you are.”
“Please,” Shane begged. He sounded wrecked and desperate. His massive cock throbbed untouched in Ilya’s loose grip. “Please touch me. Just a little. I wanna come, Ilya. I wanna come so bad—”
“No.” Ilya’s grip on his hips turned bruising as he started pounding in earnest. His thrusts were deep and punishing and Shane whimpered at the change in pace. “I don’t think I will touch you. You come on my cock like a good boy, or don’t come at all. I know you can do it. Come untouched while your husband fucks you and reminds you how fucking pathetic this massive dick is. Leaking like a wet little pussy that only exists to take me.”
“Oh fuck. Ilya, I’m about to come. Fuck, fuck—!” Shane pressed his back into the mattress to meet Ilya’s thrusts, rocking himself desperately onto Ilya’s cock.
Ilya snarled. He held Shane down so he couldn’t move an inch. He slammed into him relentlessly. “Stay still and let me fuck you. Take it. Take your husband’s cock. That’s it. Good boy. Look at you making a mess of yourself, just from me ruining your little hole.”
Shane came with a broken moan as his voice cracked. His massive cock pulsed and shot all over his own chest and stomach while Ilya kept driving into him.
The whole time, Ilya never slowed. The orgasm tore through Shane, drawn out by every brutal thrust against his prostate. The ruined panties were still riding low on his hips, cutting into his thighs, and now sticky with his own mess that had been smeared all across his front.
Ilya’s rhythm finally faltered as Shane clenched around him through the aftershocks. He buried himself deep one last time, his hips stuttering. A low groan tore from his throat as he came hard, throbbing hot and thick inside Shane, filling him with pulse after pulse while he stayed buried to the hilt. “Fuck… that’s it. Take your husband’s load, pretty boy. All of it.”
When the last shudder left him, Ilya slowed but didn’t pull out, deciding instead to stay buried deep. His chest pressed to Shane’s and his lips brushed his ear as he murmured, soft and filthy and so fucking possessive. “There we go. That’s my husband. Coming so pretty and untouched for me.”
Ilya eventually pulled out and then slowly eased Shane out of his tight black panties, now soaked in come and lube. Shane whimpered as the lace caught on his fine leg hairs, and then pulled them down gently over his thighs. Ilya lifted them to his face.
“Oh my god, don’t sniff them!” Shane groaned. “That’s gross!”
“I am just saying goodbye,” Ilya faked a little pout. “I will miss them now they are ruined.”
“Ilya, they’re not fucking disposable. They came with care instructions. I think I need to handwash them but we don’t have to throw them out. I even bought this specific detergent. Apparently women’s underwear require special attention and you can’t put them in the machine.”
“I never thought that Shane Hollander would become expert in women’s panties,” Ilya teased and climbed back over Shane’s body to kiss him on the lips.
“I’m glad you liked them, even if they didn’t fit,” Shane said, now quite sleepy. “I’ll have to surprise you another day.”
“Mm,” Ilya hummed, “maybe next time I tear them off you instead.”