Chapter 10 #2
Suddenly I’m above him, straddling his hips, the angle shifting everything as he remains buried deep inside me.
Something wild takes over and I’m moving on instinct, hips rising and falling in a desperate rhythm that makes us both gasp. Tanner’s hands slide up to grip my waist, his head falling back against the sleeping bag, eyes half-lidded but never leaving mine.
“Christ, Nate,” he breathes, voice cracking.“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamed about you like this?”
I meet his gaze, breathless. “I’ve lost count of the nights I’ve pictured this.”
My voice comes out raw. It’s embarrassing and liberating and Tanner’s answering growl is all the permission I need. My body jerks, hips faltering, and suddenly I can’t look away from Milo above me.
His eyes have gone dark and hungry, watching us with an intensity that makes my skin burn. Something unspoken passes between us, a current of recognition.
I’m overcome with everything all at once. The nights we fell asleep in the same room, inches apart. The summers we spent inventing elaborate excuses to touch: wrestling, dares, stupid games of chicken.
Even now, with Tanner’s cock buried inside me, I want Milo’s hands and approval.
For a second, my vision whites out. When I come back to myself, Milo’s face is right there, forehead pressed to mine, hand gripping the back of my neck.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah,” I manage, though it comes out more like a whimper. “Don’t stop.” I rock my hips harder, riding Tanner as he gasps and digs bruising fingers into me.
Tanner must feel the shift between us, because he slows his thrusts to watch.
“I need you to tell me if it’s too much,” he rasps, sweat beading on his forehead.
“It’s perfect,” I gasp, and I mean it so much it hurts
Milo’s hand trails down my chest. He finds my cock and strokes in time with Tanner’s thrusts, and there’s a rhythm now.
Three bodies moving as one, a feedback loop of need and wanting and belonging.
“I need both of you,” I manage, the words scraping my throat.
Milo’s lips part, revealing a slow, devastating smile. “Then you’ll have us both.”
The tent flap rustles as Milo slips out, returning moments later with something in his hand. He uses it coat himself before working it slowly up and down his length.
From my position astride Tanner, I feel exposed, vulnerable. Milo snakes in behind me, gently pressing Tanner’s thighs wider to make space.
“God, look at you two,” he whispers, his fingers tracing where Tanner disappears inside me. “Room for one more?”
I feel the blunt pressure of him against my opening, alongside where Tanner still rocks upward in shallow, careful thrusts.
“Only if you’re sure,” Milo says, tone deathly serious.
Beneath me, Tanner’s hands tighten on my hips. “We can stop right here,” he adds, though his voice trembles with restraint.
“Please,” I breathe, reaching back to guide Milo closer. “I want this. I want both of you.”
Then it happens. The impossible pressure, the stretching fullness that makes my head spin. Tanner goes completely still beneath me, a strangled sound escaping his throat as Milo’s length slides alongside his own, both of them now sharing the tight heat of my body.
The sensation is overwhelming. Milo begins to move, and I watch Tanner’s expression transform. Eyes fluttering closed, lips parting in silent ecstasy as he surrenders to the friction happening between him Milo.
My vision goes hazy. The rhythmic sounds of skin meeting skin, the earthy scent of rain-soaked ground mingling with our sweat and the musk of sex.
Everything intensifies. Each movement inside me is another brush against my prostate, causing every inch of my skin to erupt in goosebumps.
I’ve barely had time to adjust to their fullness when my body begins to tremble. When Tanner’s hands find my hips again and he starts to move in counterpoint to Milo, I’m lost. Crying out as pleasure crests and breaks through me, spilling hot across Tanner’s chest.
“Christ, just from this?” Tanner whispers, awestruck.
I can only shudder in response as they gentle their movements. When Milo carefully withdraws, I feel the loss acutely even as Tanner remains inside me. I ease myself off him, suddenly empty and floating.
Milo appears at my side, concern in his eyes.
“You with us?” he asks softly.
“Never better,” I murmur, still riding waves of pleasure. “But I want to see you both get off.”
“We can wait,” Tanner offers.
I meet his eyes, then Milo’s. “Paint my face.”
Once I’m on my back in offering they exchange a glance. Together they move to their knees, positioning themselves on either side of me. I stare up at them both, hands working in desperate rhythm over their cocks hanging only inches above my face.
Tanner’s free hand reaches out and his trace Milo’s jawline with unexpected tenderness before pulling him into a kiss.
The connection undoes Tanner completely.
He groans against Milo’s mouth and releases, warm streaks painting my cheeks and lips.
I part my lips, tasting salt and musk. Seconds later, Milo follows, his release landing in hot pulses across my brow and eyelids as I close my eyes.
I lie there breathing deeply until I feel warm, wet fabric trace my brow.
Tanner wipes my face clean with what must be his t-shirt. I can tell from the hesitant, almost reverent way he touches me. Simultaneously, Milo’s methodical hands attend to the rest of me, his movements unhurried but thorough.
Even without looking, I know them by their touch. Tanner’s fingers trembling slightly against my temple, Milo’s palm steady and sure against my thighs.
I sigh, surrendering to their care, feeling strangely whole between them.
We collapse onto the sleeping bags in a daze, all of us on our backs, limbs tangled, skin still warm.
I think we drift off like that. There’s no real transition. There’s no pillow talk. No need for it. The air feels full enough already.
Rain taps steadily against the nylon overhead, a soft, constant rhythm that pulls the world inward until it’s only the tent and our little cocoon breathing in sync. Three bodies giving in all at once.
At some point, Milo shifts like he’s about to roll away, but Tanner’s hand finds him without looking, pulling him back in. I tuck closer without thinking, settling into the space that opens.
I shift slightly, pressing closer without thinking, and neither of them moves away. If anything, they adjust around me, like it’s instinct now. Like this is something we’ve practiced without realizing it.
For a long time, I thought wanting something meant losing it. That the moment I reached for it, it would disappear or fall apart or prove itself to be something I’d imagined wrong.
But this… This is real. Messy. Complicated. Hard-earned in ways I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted.