“Sergeant Colbert, I believe I gave you a direct order,” Nate said. His voice was equal parts hard and soft, and all that more terrifying. “On your knees.”
Brad narrowed his eyes at Nate but sank slowly to the ground; knees pressing into the hard, rough dirt. Brad made quick work of Ray’s trousers under the watchful eye of his Lieutenant and sucked Ray’s cock tentatively into his mouth. Nate planted a knee between Brad’s shoulder blades and pressed forward, making the hard press of cock into Brad’s throat a little bit more uncomfortable for his favorite team leader.
Ray leaned forward and captured Nate’s mouth with his, he was sure that Brad hadn’t seen things going this way when he’d invited Ray to have some fun with him and the LT.
Brad slid a $100 bill across the kitchen table, saying, “I give you 45 minutes maximum,” and then used the remote to switch Ray’s plug on to some kind of elaborate hula dance vibration. To make it whatever fucked up version of “fair” that Brad Colbert understood, he also put his thumb down hard on the button of Nate’s remote; Nate just closed his eyes and concentrated.
Ray felt like he was gonna squirm out of his skin, especially if he had to watch Nate zen his way out of this, but damn if he didn’t want to take a bill off of his TL. “Wait wait wait… what are the ground rules here? Anything goes as long as I don’t take out the batteries?”
Brad shrugged, “Sure.”
“Excellent. Put the cash in my wallet,” Ray said, tackling his meditating boyfriend to the couch and sucking his dick to the back of his throat. Brad could do his worst with that remote, but ain’t no one — not even buddha master Fick — can stand up to the force of nature that is Ray’s tongue.
Webbing rubbed against his ankles; a torn t-shirt was tight enough around his wrists to make his fingertips throb while he watched from the straight-backed chair. Nate was sitting in an identical chair across from Brad; one of his hands was looping around Ray’s shoulder, and the other was hard across Ray’s mouth. Ray’s ass stretched around Nate’s cock, up and down, the only sounds in the apartment slapping skin and sharp exhales as Nate fucked Ray onto his cock.
Brad’s eyes fixed on the sight of Ray’s hole taking Nate to the hilt, and his own dick twitched sympathetically, wanting to fuck into him too, wanting to be surrounded by that heat. His gaze rose to Nate’s face, finding him staring at Brad with a nearly feral grin as Ray spasmed, jizz coating Nate’s chest between their bodies. Nate released Ray, leaving him panting on the adjacent couch with a satisfied, glazed expression, and he crossed over to Brad, straddling him and sinking down onto Brad’s cock with a loud, hungry groan that let Brad know that his was only beginning.
There’s a hesitancy in the way Brad touches, his fingertips skimming up Ray’s naked shoulder before pulling him in closer by the back of his neck. He fists Ray’s hair, tips his head back, but Nate’s teeth skim over Brad’s neck and bite before Brad has the chance to kiss him. It’s sensory overload, hands on hips and chests, touching and pulling, pinching and teasing, and maybe this is a first for them, but it isn’t so awkward as it should be.
Ray curses and moans when Nate pushes into him, shudders in Brad’s arm and tries to lift his hips and drag Nate closer, but he’s pinned against Brad’s chest and there’s nowhere for him to go without putting up a fight. Ray doesn’t though, and Nate fucks him, slow and hard and with a look of such intense concentration on his face that Brad has no idea how he’s not going to come all over Ray’s back before he gets the chance to be the focus of it but he’s determined to find a way.
Ray is limp between them, exhausted, his arms around Nate’s neck just trying to hold on. He’s sore from his shoulders and down his spine, his jaw aching from taking both Brad and Nate into his mouth at one point or another, but nothing compares to the burning feeling of having both their cocks pressed deep inside of him.
It’s not that Ray doesn’t love it, because, Jesus, he feels so goddamn full with the both of them bumping and gliding inside of them; like, as much as it hurts being stretched that far, he can’t imagine not having the both of him inside of him, like this is where they belong. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. He’s just tired, pleasantly sore from being passed between the two of them and being so eager to take care of their needs, but as long as they’re inside of him, fucking him deeply and just this side of painful, then Ray will do his best to roll his hips and moan encouragement.
It’s one of those situations where Nate isn’t entirely sure how he’s supposed to respond. He knows what he should be doing, he’s a hot blooded male and Ray has access to the best porn in the universe, but it’s hard to focus when he’s hard in his jeans and Ray and Brad are on either side of him.
As much as Nate loves the guttural moans and arched backs of Ray’s favorite little twinks, he definitely prefers the lazy way Brad palms himself through his shorts and the bite of Ray’s nails through Nate’s jeans. The video does what it’s supposed to, Nate’s turned on, but he’d rather be on his knees or back; as partial as he is to watching, Nate would much rather be doing. It’s okay though, because Brad and Ray don’t complain when Nate decides he’s in the mood to take instead of sitting idly by; they never do when it ends with Nate naked, his fingers or lips wrapped around their cocks and taking his time in getting them off.
It’s hard to say what’s set Nate off exactly, between the pots of coffee and the sickly sweet donuts and the lack of sleep, but his foot is tapping against the floor with a rapid thump-thump-thump and Brad feels exhausted just watching him.
When Ray’s lips brush against the side of his neck, Nate snaps to, looking away from his laptop to look up at Ray, but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Ray kisses him. His foot stops tapping, but Brad’s sure it has more to do with the way he’s tugging at Ray to drag him closer and trying to dispose of his shirt at the same time.
“A little help here?” Ray asks, struggling to wiggle out of his shirt and push Nate’s laptop to the far end of the couch without knocking it over; the position is precarious, and Ray’s virtually at Nate’s mercy, but there are times to sit on the sidelines and times to get involved.
Nate’s still vibrating when Brad and Ray manage to shove the coffee table out of the way and drag him to the floor, stripping eagerly and jerking up into each touch to his throat and ribs and hips – it’s exhausting to watch him, for sure, but the sight of him falling apart beneath them makes it more than worth it.
The work bench is hardly the most comfortable thing for Nate to be spread over, but it’s steady and doesn’t leave splinters in the soft skin of Nate’s stomach. He’s pinned in place, Ray’s fingers in his hair and cock down his throat, Brad’s hands on his hips and cock in his ass, but it’s exactly where Nate wants to be. It doesn’t matter that it’s hot and humid in the garage, that his voice echoes like he’s in some cheap porno, because this is what Nate wants and he knows how to get it.
Fingers digging into Ray’s dips, nails scraping, Nate moans louder and relaxes his throat; Ray bottoms out easy, cursing and tugging at Nate’s hair frantically, but Nate pushes Ray’s hips away and tugs at his balls before he starts to come. Because Nate has a plan, always does, and he knows Ray like he knows Brad, and Nate knows if he’s going to get them both off at the same time it’s going to take a little patience and a lot of skill – both of which he has an abundance of – and Nate is determined to get what he wants.
Ray’s wrist burn where they twist in the rope, struggling, but his moans have very little to do with pain. He squirms as soft nails trace down his ribs and along his sides, but they do little to distract him from Natalie’s teeth scraping over the words on his chest and Brad’s mouth on the delicate skin of his inner arm.
“Shh,” Brad says, sucking at the ink until the blood rises and leaves it bright and shiny, but it’s hard to relax when Brad’s fingers snake down Ray’s belly and touch his cock; Ray jerks harder, tugging at his bindings, but Natalie just pushes him down and continues to nibble along his collar.
“I hate you,” Ray moans, bowing his back to get more of Natalie’s teeth before digging his heels into the mattress to thrust up into Brad’s fist.
“I guess that means we’ll have to stop,” Natalie says, pushing herself up onto his palms and smirking down at him; she laughs when Ray wraps a leg around her thigh, dragging her closer, and there’s no hesitation in her leaning down to kiss him while Brad’s fingers tighten around his cock and Ray is helpless to do anything but arch his body up for more of them both.
“Shit,” Ray curses, but it doesn’t accurately describe what he’s feeling by a long shot. Nothing quite covers the feeling of being fucked hard by the peachy silicone strapped around Natalie’s hips and held down by two sets of hands. Ray claws at the sheets, trying to push up and get his knees under him, but every sharp thrust of Natalie’s toy cock just pushes him further across the bedspread and closer to Brad. That’s the point, Ray thinks, but he’s determined to get off before he’s close enough to suck Brad’s cock into his mouth and swallow him down. He snakes a hand under his belly, giving up on pushing back, and Natalie just laughs softly and starts to fuck him harder, sharp nails digging into his hips and leaving half-moon cuts as he bucks hard beneath her and comes with a stream of expletives and a muffled shout.
