Chapter 31 Trouble #2
“Put your hands on each other’s chests. Right here, in the middle.
” I trace a line down my middle, inching my hand down my body.
They do the same but to each other. They’re both sweating.
Will has a fine sheen on his brow and Mat’s cheeks have colored.
I can tell how pent-up and frazzled they are, and I love that for them.
Their hands are unsteady, but they keep moving.
They move slower and slower the lower they get.
Thick fingers tremble and track down past navels and curled happy trails.
A flash of white.
A glint of teeth.
Two sheepish smiles as they pull their hands back as if they’ve been burned.
Mat’s eyes crease deeply as he starts to laugh.
Will gives him a little shoulder shove. You know the one, where straight guys butt into each other shoulder to shoulder when they want to touch each other but society has told them they can’t.
Goddamnit.
They’re ruining me.
It’s a sweet moment. It’s so fucking sweet I could faint.
But I didn’t come here for sweet. I came for sex.
I reach out and grab a dick in each hand.
I squeeze them firmly, stroking them once or twice in tandem, then I tug them gently, dragging their owners closer together.
Closer and closer. Closer until there’s no space between them.
A loud hiss.
A sharp intake of breath.
It’s seamless. A dance where everything comes together at exactly the right time. It’s a perfect, perfect moment. A dimly lit, smoked-out stage. No sound. Two spotlights hitting their mark at precisely the same time.
Abs tense, fists clench. Two spines contract and arch back deeply.
Cue the music.
Start the magic.
I rub them together. Head against head, slit against slit.
I do it over and over until they’re both glistening, coated in each other.
I bring them together. I gently pull Will’s loose skin back and tuck Mat in, covering him, making a new, snug home for the swollen head of his cock.
I slide them and roll them together. They handle like magnets that can’t decide if they want to repel or attract each other.
I’m hypnotized by the sight. My hands. Two beautiful cocks.
Two big boys mewling softly, stepping jerkily on the spot, hands floating up as if to brace themselves against some strange, invisible force.
“Take your clothes off,” Mat slurs. “Please, Trouble, take them off.”
“Take them off,” says Will. “Do it now before we tear them off your body.”
My mind is moving slowly, and I admit I’m not at my best, but something about his tone lets me know it would be best to do as he says. I drop my T-shirt and wrist cuffs on the floor and undo my kilt. I hold it up until both their jaws are tense and their eyes are pitch black, then I drop it too.
“Gggck,” says Mat.
“Are you wearing panties under a kilt?” Will asks as if such a thing is straight-up sacrilegious.
“Actually,” I say as I spin all the way around slowly, “I’m wearing a lace jockstrap.”
“Gggggggggck,” says Mat.
“Th-thought you had to go commando i-if you’re wearing a kilt,” says Will.
“Oooh.” I shrug sadly. “I can’t go commando. Can’t ‘cause I’ll step on my dong if I do.”
Walked right into that one, didn’t he?
They both try to muster a laugh, but the laugh goes awry and comes out as a rough growl. They step toward me, chins down, teeth clenched.
Oh shit.
“On your knees.” I use a commanding tone that’s almost completely believable. At least, it would be if you ignore how my voice cracks right at the end.
They both sink down and look up at me. They don’t look like themselves anymore. They don’t look scary or sweet. They don’t even look like dude-bros anymore. They look like things that are hungry. Things that need to be fed.
Will reaches for me first, scraping blunt nails lightly across lace.
I manage to keep my knees from giving way, but I don’t have the same luck stopping the dry gasp that leaves me.
Mat slides his fingers under my waistband, worrying it, pulling it down half an inch, and then carefully arranging it back in its proper position.
They tease me like that until I’m the one stepping jerkily on the spot.
Will takes mercy on me and starts taking my jockstrap off.
“Don’t take it off,” murmurs Mat. “Pull it down but leave it on. I like how his ass looks in it.”
Will gives Mat a toothy grin. “Wanna fuck him while he’s wearing these pretty panties?”
“Yeah. But first, I want to finger him. And I want to rim him. I want to eat him until he makes that sound again. The one he made last time.”
Ooof.
Will nods sagely and carefully tugs my jockstrap down in the front, tucking it down so my dick and my balls are completely exposed, trussing me up in a way that’s unexpectedly hot.
The way they’re looking at me and talking about me makes me feel like I’m losing my footing and, quite possibly, my mind.
“Open your mouths,” I purr in a last-ditch attempt to claw back some control of the situation.
They do. Just a little. Just a crack.
I laugh soft and mean. “Oh, you’re going to have to open wider than that.”
They glance furtively at each other and back at my dick.
I stroke their faces lightly, outlining the shapes of their jaws, then I slide my hands around the backs of their heads until I’m cradling a skull in the palm of each hand.
They both seem to relax at the same time.
Their mouths open for real as I sandwich my dick with their faces.
They struggle for a split second. One gasps for air, the other one grunts. Then they concede. They relent.
They stop fighting.
And they start licking.
Tongues dart out and bathe my head. Two sets of lips slide back and forth on my shaft. I hold their heads in my hands, controlling the speed and the tempo, keeping their action even and measured.
Ah, this is where I’ve been going wrong my whole life.
A dong like mine is no match for one mouth.
It’s simple physics, really. Just the basic law of matter, motion, and energy.
A big dick is best served by two mouths.
There’s no getting around it. What they’re doing feels really, really good.
Warm lips, wet tongues—how could it not?
But what’s even better is how it looks. Two ripped guys on their knees, naked and nervous.
My God. Now and again, their tongues touch each other, and when it happens, they both tense.
Mat cracks a hint of a smile and Will’s eyelids drop to half-mast.
“Wanna prep him?” Will asks Mat shyly like he’s offering to share a toy he’s especially attached to.
“Fuck yeah.” The hint of a smile from seconds ago cracks wide open.
Mat shuffles behind me, and I’m left facing off with Will.
He looks at me without blinking. His gaze is harsh and unwavering, pupils big and so black that they almost glint purple.
I know that look: dangerously horny. I’d be better equipped to deal with him if it wasn’t for the fact I’m so aroused that each breath I take burns me to ash.
My entire body is hot. Not just my dick.
Everything. All over. I’m hot everywhere.
I reach out to pet him. I want to stroke his face, to let him know I see him, to let him know I have it as bad as he has it.
He strikes as I do it. He moves fast and hard.
He firmly catches my wrists in his hands and brings them to my sides.
I let out a quick, surprised breath, and then I test his grip.
I try to move. I can’t. His grip is like a vise.
Hard and unyielding. Big palms and long fingers wrapped tightly around my wrists like cuffs.
He curls his lips up and exposes his teeth. I have a feeling it’s Will’s version of a smile. In reality, it’s a lot more scowl than smile.
It turns me on hard.
Mat’s behind me now. He has his hands on me, warming the back of my thighs and working their way up to my ass.
He strokes me gently, just an apparition of skin against skin.
He takes his time, touching and fondling every bit of me that's framed by my jock. When he’s finally had his fill, he cups my cheeks in his hands and parts them.
Not roughly exactly, but way more firmly than I expected.
It gives me a little shock, making me struggle against Will’s grip again.
He holds firm. He scowls harder and then sinks his mouth onto my cock. My spine bows back and then snaps forward as Mat starts to lick. Long, firm strokes behind me, a soft, warm mouth in front, and me in the middle, slowly losing myself.
I’m hardly even aware of the sound I make, but Will pulls back and says, “That the sound you’re chasing, Mattie?”
Mat shakes his head against my cheeks, scuffing my skin with his stubble. “Nah,” he garbles. “You’ll know it when you hear it.”
Will holds my wrists steady and takes my dick back in his mouth.
He slurps as much of it as he can in and suckles gently.
His eyes are closed, and he makes a soft sound that sounds almost like he’s humming.
It vibrates through me and finds its way to my hips.
They start rocking. At the same time, Mat changes his rhythm.
He changes from long and deliberate to slow circular swirls.
I start shaking and swaying, painfully, acutely, aware that I’m on the edge of losing control.
Mat nudges his tongue into me, and something breaks loose.
Something big. Something deep. It tears out of me with a terrible low rattle.
I look down to see Will smile. He still has my dick in his mouth, and he’s smiling almost sweetly around it.
They keep me like that, sucking my dick and tonguing my ass until I can’t stand anymore, until the room is spinning, and I’m begging for mercy or pity, or more.