Chapter 11 Adrian #2
“Aaand no point for me.” Lance throws up his hands, then squints at me like I’m the one to blame. “Damn, thought I was bringing out the big guns picking him.”
The game carries on. The bottle makes another lazy turn and lands on Lance. Again. He grins like the game’s rigged in his favor.
“Touch,” he declares. And then he’s on me, leaning in close, warm breath hitting my chest before his tongue flicks quickly over my nipple through the thin cotton shirt.
As if it’s not enough, he opens his jaw wide and tries his best to cover as much of my pec as he can, before sucking hard on the nipple.
My breath stutters, hips jerking before I can catch myself.
The room explodes with howls, whistles, and pounding fists on the floor. Lance’s hand doesn’t move. He pinches the other nipple, then, because he’s a sadistic bastard, drops back to bite and suck at the first.
This time I break. “Ugh, fuck. Shit.” The words tear out of me before I can choke them down.
Across the circle, Vince is watching. His mouth quirks and eyes grow darker. He looks amused. Aroused?
Heat spikes up my neck, too much to sit with, so I rip my shirt over my head and toss it aside like that’ll even the playing field.
Lance leans back, looking pleased with himself.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 0. Trevor – 0. Vince – 0.
The bottle gets spun again and clinks to a stop in front of George.
“Dare,” he says, and Lance perks up like a referee who already knows it will be another dirty one.
George doesn’t make us wait. “Ride my thigh for ten seconds.”
The circle hums with low sounds of satisfaction and excitement, and my throat dries out.
Still, I swing a leg over and settle onto his lap, palms braced on his shoulders like I’m steadying myself for impact.
His thigh is solid under me, too solid, and the second my half-hard cock brushes his bulge, my brain betrays me. I glance at Vince like a reflex.
He’s already watching too closely, fiercely, almost daring me not to crack. And when his eyes flick down, right at the outline straining through my pants, my hips betray me too. I do a tiny shift, a little stutter. A grind.
George takes his chance. Hands cupping my ass, pulling me harder against him. Heat floods through me, sharp and humiliating. “Fuck, oh, god.” I bite them back, but it’s too late.
Lance claps once, sharp and satisfied. “One point to George, baby. Pants off first, then the socks. Bet you look better in just your underwear and those slutty little socks.”
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 0. Vince – 0.
“Yeah, yeah, the stripper strips,” I laugh at my own joke, climbing off George. I yank my pants down, kicking them aside. Now it’s just me in navy boxers and purple socks, every inch of skin buzzing under their stares.
Lance does not waste any time and spins the bottle, again landing on Trevor.
“Touch.”
I am sitting on the floor, my knees up and slightly apart.
He slides closer, lowers himself, and stretches a leg between my open thighs.
My cock is fully erect at this point, obscenely standing.
His toes brush the tip, dragging it down slowly and teasing, then letting go.
Everyone watches it spring back up, straining against my loose boxers that barely contain it.
I can’t help it. I gasp in pain and pleasure, and my thighs spread a little more on instinct. I have a feeling that if I actually glance down, I will see the tip of my cock peeking out at the waistband.
“Bloody hell, that’s filthy and hot,” Trevor breathes, his voice thick with arousal. Lance and George curse, while Vince just smirks like my dick just made him proud. He tilts his head toward my feet. My socks are next.
Now I’m down to just my boxers, the final flimsy barrier between me and complete exposure. My whole body hums, buzzing and raw, alive under their relentless gaze.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 1. Vince – 0.
Lance does not waste any time spinning the bottle. It stops at Vince.
Vince leans back, arms crossed, calm as ever, and picks truth.
“Alright,” he says, voice low, almost nonchalant. “What’s the name of the person you were imagining when someone was sucking your cock?”
I freeze. The other boys’ jaws drop slightly, even Lance looks like he didn’t expect him to go that deep.
I glance at Vince. His eyes are sharp and unreadable, and I can also see a flicker of jealousy. Maybe.
I bite my lip. “Uh…I…” I hesitate. I can’t say it. If I speak the name, I’ll out him. I am not sure if he wants them to know about our history, so I just shake my head.
Vince tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not answering?”
I shrug, trying to sound like I don’t care what they’ll do to me. “Nah. I don’t tell.”
Lance whistles low. “Damn. Easy point for Vince, then.” He claps once.
The other boys lean in with their eyes hungry, and I feel their stares burn over me. I peel off my boxers, taking my time with it, letting instinct guide the rhythm. My cock comes into full view, the tip glistening, stiff and pointing up.
“Well, damn, Adrian. I saw it once, thought it was a fluke that I got hard seeing another man’s dick, but now I still have the same reaction,” Trevor says, groaning and moaning.
“I know, right? It’s the way he peels off his boxers. You have a way with your hips, Pretty Boy,” Lance whistles, adjusting his own erection. “Thanks to Holloway, he made sure you’re going to say no and strip by default.”
“Do we still get to play?” George asks, eyebrows raised. “He’s got nothing left to strip.”
Vince leans back, voice calm but dangerous. “We carry on.” He leans forward just slightly, eyes boring into me. “He’s our entertainment. We get to do whatever we like to him, right, Adrian?”
Trevor laughs, nudging George. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Heat spreads through my face under their stares. “Oh,” I say, voice teasing. “I’m just glad I don’t bore you too much.”
George grins, low and sharp. “Bored? Trust me, bored is the last thing my cock feels right now.”
Lance practically chokes on a laugh, high–pitched. “G! What a filthy mouth! You letting that monstrosity of a cock come out and play again? Think Adrian can handle it?”
I swallow hard, a shiver running down me. Part of me is scared that I might like this too much, especially with Vince watching. I’ve been wondering for days what he thinks of me like this, exposed, not only to him but also to his friends.
Trevor makes a low sound of appreciation. “Look at that tip, shiny as hell. You’re teasing us, Adrian.”
“Shut up,” I say weakly, but my body’s straining under their combined attention.
Vince’s gaze doesn’t leave me. He leans back with arms crossed, eyes dark and hungry. “We keep playing,” he says. “And you? You’re going to make this worth our time.”
I glance at the other boys, all of them already buzzing and twitching, waiting for the next round. Their heat is contagious, awakening something in me that aches for whatever they want next.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 1. Vince – 1.
Lance spins the bottle again, and it lands on Vince. The room hushes for a beat, everyone leaning in like they’re waiting for a spark. Vince doesn’t even need to say anything. We all know what he’ll choose. I just brace myself.
He slides closer, hand ghosting over my body.
His knuckle drags over my taint, then his palm cups my balls, thumb brushing my tip.
I can’t help it. My head falls back, a sharp gasp ripping out of me.
My hand flies to my cock, slick with precum, gripping it as I spread wider.
I bend my knees, offering every inch of me, my nipples, cock, and ass, to their eyes.
Lance leans back, his voice teasing. “You better watch it, Adrian. That’s not even the only type of touch you’ll get.”
Vince grunts in approval, like he owns the room. And me.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 1. Vince – 2.
Trevor huffs beside him, muttering, “Can you make me win? I’m getting married on Sunday. I won’t be able to bloody do this thing anymore!”
Vince laughs, hand still heavy on me. “Why not? Look at him. I’m pretty sure if we wanted to, he’d just lay himself out and let us have him exactly like this.”
Heat burns my face, but it is nothing compared to the fire Vince drags through me.
Shame twists into something raw and filthy.
I never imagined this. After all these years, Vince is actually touching me, with three of his friends watching, wanting, ready.
My nerves scream, every gasp and shiver feels amplified by their hungry eyes.
I see the others shifting, lust mingling with awe. They have seen me like this before, but now it feels sharper and hotter. Every slight move from Vince makes my chest pound, my cock twitch, and my skin tingle. Shame, excitement, and arousal tangle into one impossible knot.
The obvious fact that Vince is orchestrating this, after all our years apart and the unspoken things, leaves me breathless, completely exposed, and craving for more.
Oh god. I hope they do more.
Lance spins the bottle again. It slows, then tilts, pointing straight at himself. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Touch,” he announces.
I’m dizzy now, my body already oversensitive from Vince’s hands. I try to steel myself, but it’s getting harder to think straight and hold any control.
He approaches me with quiet warmth. His lips brush the inside of my elbow first in a soft tease before his hand slides down my side with fingers grazing my ribs. I barely react. My body feels overloaded, with every touch from Vince still echoing.
“Damn,” Lance mutters, half surprised, half frustrated, voice low but teasing. “Ice cold again.”
I almost can’t help the tiny shiver that would betray me, the flush in my face, the slick dampening at the tip of my cock. I won’t give Lance any points. I want a certain someone to win.