Chapter 9 #2
Japan720: Great work on the latest update.
The tension between Wyatt and Brady is incredible, and I’m just loving how Lara is coaxing them to understand what they really crave.
Do you ever do commissions featuring your characters?
I’d love a piece showing Wyatt and Brady kissing for the first time, and make it really spicy. Let me know what the price would be.
My mouth went dry.
The two male characters. My two male characters. The ones that resembled the men currently sitting forty feet below me.
I sat with that for a moment, the embarrassment and the heat arriving simultaneously, tangled up together in a way I couldn’t separate. How had I ever told myself it wasn’t them I was drawing? Lara, Wyatt, and Brady. What was the point in denying it, anyway?
It was sexy and fun. A filthy fantasy that they would never see. And if they could indulge in their whispering and secrets, I could indulge in a little fun of my own, couldn’t I?
And my brain flooded with images that had nothing to do with fictional characters and everything to do with the two real men downstairs.
Wade, broad and golden, his large hands gentle but insistent.
Bode, lean and intense, those dark eyes going soft with pleasure.
Their mouths meeting, hesitant at first, hungry.
Their hands exploring, discovering, gripping—
“Fuck,” I whispered, pressing my thighs together. My body craved more there, craved the pressure of their hands and their mouths.
This was ridiculous. Wade was straight and kind of a player. And Bode was straight too. And even if he wasn’t, they weren’t interested in each other that way. They were friends. Friends who sat close together at a laptop they didn’t want me to see.
Friends who touched each other’s shoulders.
Friends who…
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. What was wrong with me? Some anonymous Patreon subscriber wanted to see two fictional men getting it on, and that shouldn’t make me lunge for my vibrator.
With a resigned sigh, I picked up my stylus and opened a new canvas. If I was going to have these thoughts, I could channel them into paid work that might cover a bill or two.
I started sketching, lines flowing easily as I blocked out the basic composition.
Two men, facing each other. One larger, broader through the shoulders.
One leaner, with an intensity to his posture that suggested coiled energy.
Their faces close, lips nearly touching. Their hands between them, gripping—
I paused, studying what I’d drawn. The characters were starting to take shape, and already I could see the resemblance. The larger one had Wade’s gentle eyes, his strong jaw. The leaner one had Bode’s sharp cheekbones, his restless energy captured in a few quick lines.
As I worked, adding details, refining lines, I couldn’t help but wonder—what if? What if Wade and Bode were attracted to each other? What if they acted on it? And where would that leave me?
The thought sent another rush of heat through me, one that was complicated by an ache that wasn’t physical.
Because the truth was, I wanted them both.
Had wanted Wade for years, in a way I’d never allowed myself to fully acknowledge.
And Bode, well, that was newer, more confusing, bound up in his infuriating arrogance and the glimpses of vulnerability I’d seen beneath it.
But I couldn’t have both. That wasn’t how things worked in real life.
Except for people like Aimee, apparently.
I shook my head, focusing back on the drawing. This was fantasy, nothing more. A way to explore desires I couldn’t act on. Couldn’t acknowledge, even to myself.
My stylus moved faster, more confident now, as I lost myself in the creation.
In the curve of a back, the grip of a hand, the tension in a jaw.
In the story unfolding beneath my fingertips of two men discovering each other, discovering pleasure, while their domme watched from the shadows, directing, encouraging.
I closed my eyes, heat rushing to my core, and set down my stylus, imagining what it would be like to watch Wade and Bode lose themselves in each other.
Touch each other and discover what it felt like to be with another man.
I glanced at my bed. I should finish my commission, but right now, there was another ache that needed tending to.
I stood, setting the tablet aside, and walked to my dresser.
My hands were shaking as I pulled open the drawer and took out my favorite toy, slipping my jeans down over my hips and kicking them aside.
My skin was beyond sensitive, attuned to every sensation as I walked to my bed, leaving my shirt and bra on, but tracing my hard nipples through the silky fabric.
What would it be like to have two men suck me there? One hungry mouth on each hard peak, hands roaming everywhere over my body as they begged me to be able to touch each other.
As I climbed into bed, the sheets were cool against my overheated skin. Leaning across the mattress, I reached into my nightstand. My favorite vibrator was a gift from a subscriber, sleek and purple and powerful. I knew how to use it, what angles and pressures would get me where I needed to go.
I settled back against the pillows, my shirt riding up around my stomach as I spread my legs. One hand held the vibrator, not turning it on yet. The other hand traced down my stomach. I was so wet for this fantasy. What would they think if they knew? If they found me like this.
I closed my eyes and let myself imagine it, my arousal finally winning the battle with my embarrassment.
Wade and Bode were still downstairs on that couch.
But in my fantasy, I was there too, standing over them, directing them.
My voice low and commanding as I told Wade to kiss Bode.
Watching Wade’s surprise, his surrender as he leaned in.
The first brush of their lips tentative, testing.
Then deeper, hungrier, as I encouraged them with soft words of praise.
“That’s it,” I whispered aloud to my empty room, my hand sliding between my legs, sensing myself already slick and ready. “Good boys.”
I turned on the vibrator, the low hum filling the quiet space.
I pressed it against my clit, gasping at the first contact, my hips lifting off the bed.
In my mind, I was telling Wade to touch Bode.
To run those large, capable surgeon’s hands over Bode’s lean body.
To discover what made him moan, what made him arch into the touch.
The vibrator’s intensity increased as I adjusted the setting, and I bit my lip to keep from making too much noise.
I could see it so clearly: Wade’s hand wrapping around Bode’s cock through his pants, finding him hard and wanting.
Bode’s sharp intake of breath, his dark eyes going wide with surprise and need.
I imagined Wade undoing Bode’s pants with steady hands. Pulling him out, stroking him while I watched, while I praised them both. Bode’s head falling back, his defenses crumbling, giving himself over to the pleasure.
My breathing was coming faster now, my free hand gripping the sheets as I worked myself higher. The silk nightgown was bunched around my waist, my thighs trembling as I pressed the vibrator harder against myself.
In my mind, I told Wade to taste Bode. To take him in his mouth and show him what that golden-boy enthusiasm could do when properly directed.
I imagined Wade’s blonde head between Bode’s thighs, Bode’s hands threading into his hair, both of them looking up at me for approval, for permission to continue.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Like that. So good for me.”
I could see Wade’s cock straining against his pants, desperate for attention but waiting for my command. Could see Bode falling apart under Wade’s mouth, his cool composure shattering into raw need. Could see them both looking at me with hunger and submission and trust.
The fantasy shifted. Now they were both naked, pressed together, cocks sliding against each other as they kissed. Their hands gripping each other’s asses, pulling closer, grinding together while I circled them, touching them both, directing the angle, controlling the pace.
My hips were moving now, fucking against the vibrator as I chased my release.
In my fantasy, I was between them, Wade behind me, Bode in front.
Wade’s cock pressing inside me while Bode’s mouth found my breast, my neck, my lips.
All of us moving together, connected, controlled by my desire and my commands.
The orgasm hit me like a wave, my back arching off the bed as pleasure crashed through me. I pressed my face into my pillow to muffle the sound, my whole body shaking as I came, the vibrator still humming against my oversensitive clit.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
When the shaking finally subsided, I lay there panting, the vibrator falling from my hand onto the mattress, still buzzing loudly. I quickly turned it off, hoping they hadn’t heard it.
But a tiny part of me, the DeviDraws part, wondered if it would really be so bad if they had?