Chapter 9
We stumble toward the tent, lips crashing together as we fumble with fabric. Clothes fall behind us in a careless trail.
My tank by the cooler, Milo’s shorts snagged on a stake, Tanner’s somewhere lost to the dark.
We tumble through the flap, and Milo’s weight follows mine down onto the open sleeping bag.
When I look up, Tanner’s there above us. His eyes track every movement between us, taking it all in and not missing a thing.
Milo bears down his full weight atop me, his erection sliding alongside mine with delicious friction. His mouth turns desperate on my neck, teeth grazing skin.
I blink up through the haze to see Tanner tugging his shorts past his hips, cock springing free. Thick and flushed in the dim light. My fingers find him and wrap around his velvet smooth skin, drawing a sharp intake of breath from somewhere above me.
Tanner edges closer until his cock finds the narrow space between our faces.
Milo’s eyes flick up, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he leans in, lips parted to welcome Tanner’s cock, drawing it downward in a slow motion until our mouths meet, tongues colliding as we share the hard length between us, neither willing to surrender the taste of salt or skin or each other.
“Christ. Give me a second,” Tanner hisses as he jerks back with a sharp inhale. His cock slips from between our lips, glistening. “You two trying to finish me before we even start?”
“What can I say?” Milo’s says, voice raspy. “Nate’s got skills.”
“I’m enthusiastic,” I mumble.
Tanner drops to his knees with a kind of eagerness that feels almost predatory. For a second, I think he’s going to lean in for another kiss, but he doesn’t. He pauses, gaze fixed on Milo’s face like he’s committing every detail to memory.
Then Tanner tilts his head, mouth opening as his tongue flicks out, catching a bead of sweat as it slips down the line of Milo’s jaw. The gesture is unexpectedly gentle.
Milo makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before and his body shudders above me. Tanner doesn’t stop. He follows each new trace of sweat he can find, pressing his mouth along the hollow of Milo’s throat, the sensitive skin behind his ear, mapping him out with slow intent.
Milo’s breathing turns uneven, and I’m caught beneath him, hyper-aware of everything at once. The weight, the heat, the way the moment keeps building with nowhere to go but further in.
Milo pins me beneath the weight of his hips, but I manage to squirm up so I catch his shoulder between my teeth.
Tanner’s hand glides over Milo’s back before slipping lower to cup him, fingers tightening with an easy, familiar confidence. At the same time, Milo’s cock smears a wet streak across my chest, leaking pre-cum onto my skin.
Every nerve in my body is lit up, and I realize if this keeps going for even another minute, I’m going to embarrass myself in a way that will be recounted for generations.
Tanner pulls back, that sharp, almost feral edge in his expression easing into something looser. A slow, satisfied grin tugs at his mouth. “I need to lie down,” he murmurs.
He drops back onto the sleeping bag, one hand dragging down my chest with unhurried pressure.
“Strip,” he commands, voice rough. “Then I want that ass on my face.”
I arch an eyebrow, hesitating. “You sure that’s…“
“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Whatever you’re thinking… I can handle your weight. Sit on my fucking face, Nate.”
“Yes Sir,” I murmur, shimmying out of my remaining clothes.
Milo lets out an appreciative whistle as he strips.
He flashes me a showman’s flourish before crawling across the sleeping bag, cock bobbing with every movement, already glossy at the tip.
He stops, kneeling between my legs, arms folded across his chest as if daring me to do something about it.
The effect is both hilarious and deeply, unnervingly hot.
I drag my attention to Tanner. He’s flat on his back, eyes dark, mouth parted.
“Don’t leave me waiting,” he growls, voice scraping low in his throat.
His hands find my hips, yanking me forward with a force that would be alarming if it didn’t make me throb harder. He manhandles me up his chest and positions me, ass hovering above his face.
I’m suddenly, acutely aware of every embarrassing thing about my body, but then his fingers dig into the meat of my ass and his tongue is on me.
It’s not a diplomatic, tentative swipe, either.
Tanner eats ass like he’s making a point.
His tongue presses at my entrance, then plunges in with a rhythm that makes me see stars.
I bite down on a whimper, but it escapes anyway, an embarrassing, high-pitched sound that echoes inside the tent.
Above me, Milo is laughing, then he leans forward, bracing himself on one hand, and presents his dick to my face like a reward for good behavior. It’s thick and flushed and tastes like sweat and salt and Milo.
I open my mouth and take him in, as much as I can manage, and feel his hand in my hair guiding me down until my nose is pressed into his curls.
The taste and the smell of Milo mixed with the overwhelming sensation of Tanner’s mouth on me makes my vision swim. Tanner moans into me, vibrating through my whole body, while Milo starts a steady, controlled rhythm, hips flexing, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth with relentless pressure.
Every time I gasp or shift, I’m rewarded by a new angle, a fresh surge of heat, or the sudden, shocking press of Tanner’s tongue as he works me open.
I’m not even sure which sensation is better. Maybe it’s Milo’s cock stretching my jaw or Tanner’s tongue plunging deeper, but together it’s enough to send me to another plane of existence entirely.
I cling to Milo’s thighs for balance, fingers digging at his skin, then slide my hand upward and wrap around the base of his cock.
I need to feel him everywhere.
Milo makes a guttural sound and his grip tightens in my hair. He’s trying to be in control, but he’s shaking. Underneath me, Tanner alternates between circling my hole and dipping his tongue inside, all while making these obscene noises that only drive me further over the edge.
I can’t breathe. Literally, I’m losing oxygen.
Right now the only thing that matters is the way Tanner’s tongue is fucking me and the way Milo’s cock tastes in my mouth and the distant, surreal awareness that this is really happening.
This is me. I am here and wanted and completely, unreservedly out of my depth.
My brain is static, my body on fire, and for a second, all I can do is let myself be lost in it
Milo pulls his cock free and the first words out of my mouth are, “I want someone to fuck me.”
There’s a silence so sudden and absolute it feels like I’ve detonated something in the middle of the tent. Everything stops.
Milo’s cock is literally still resting against my cheek, so the effect is even more impressive.
For a full second, both of them stare, as if the confession is somehow more shocking than the acts already in progress. I hear my own words echo back, each syllable burning hotter and more humiliating as it rings inside my skull.
In the heavy quiet, I scramble to backpedal. “I mean… if that’s even on the table. No pressure or anything.”
A laugh tries to follow, but it comes out wrong. Thin. Strained.
My face burns, heat climbing all the way to my ears. I’m 99% sure I’m going to pass out before anyone even touches me again.
Milo’s eyebrows shoot so far up his forehead I’m worried they might not come back down. He recovers first, something bright and electric sparking in his eyes as he looks at Tanner, then back at me, then to Tanner again. I can practically hear the gears turning.
Tanner is frozen. His mouth parts slightly, whatever he was about to say gone.
His hand, still on my hip, slackens for a split second before tightening again, reflexive, like letting go isn’t even an option he’s willing to consider.
His gaze flicks from my face to Milo, then down to where my ass is still hovering over his mouth.
“Holy shit,” Tanner finally says. His cock, which had softened a fraction from the surprise, pulses back to life beneath me. “You’re really all in, huh?”
I want to crawl inside myself and die, but since I’m physically pinned in place, I say, “I mean, uh, if you want to, you can. Or not. It was just a thought.” I’m babbling, but I can’t stop. “Also, like, probably should use lube. And maybe a condom? I don’t know what the etiquette is here.”
Milo’s face contorts into an exaggerated grimace. “Well, this is what we call a logistical nightmare, Nate.”
“What’s the big deal?” Tanner asks, propping himself up on his elbows.
“The big deal is that executing the maneuvers I had planned would require certain... supplies,” Milo says, gesturing vaguely with his hands, “which I’m ninety-nine percent certain we don’t have.”
I freeze mid-breath, my entire body going rigid.
“Wait... we’re in the middle of nowhere... with no lube?!”