Chapter 49 Trouble #2
Will crosses my wrists over each other, and Mat winds the tape around and around my wrists and the pole.
Turns out it’s the type of tape that sticks to itself but not to skin, so it’s kind of ideal.
When I’m strung up securely, Mat kisses me softly, provoking me with nothing but the tiniest hints of his tongue.
Will bites my neck until I squirm. He murmurs soft reminders about love and safewords into my ear as Mat disappears from my field of vision.
Will kisses me hard, sealing my mouth with his and forcing his tongue deep, snatching my breath and leaving me sluggish with lust.
The way he smiles at Mat when he returns should tell me everything I need to know about what my blunt instruments have in store for me. But for whatever reason, I’m not feeling especially well-equipped to piece things together right now, so they catch me off guard.
Will leans down and slides a hand under the back of my knee, pulling and lifting at the same time. Mat does the same to my other leg. They lift me off the ground and part my legs widely. I find myself splayed open in the basest of ways. My cheeks burn and my heart starts to pound in earnest.
Will gently relieves me of the plug, and Mat produces another one with a big grin and a flourish.
He holds it up near my face, glistening and dripping with lube, giving me all the time I need to take in the sight.
The second I see it, things start falling into place.
Hot things. Wild things. Things I’ve spent years dreaming about and things I’ve never told anyone but the two men in the room with me now.
Mat lines the plug up and starts applying firm pressure.
“Open up, baby,” whispers Will, switching from biting to licking broad strokes up my neck.
I do as he says, closing my eyes and using all my focus to relax instead of tensing against the massive intrusion. Mat works the plug in slowly, carefully, listening to the sounds I make and adjusting his actions accordingly. It’s a slow stretch. A slow give.
It’s more than I’m used to.
The toy is bigger than Mat.
And it’s bigger than Will.
It makes my heart pound. With anticipation. With hope.
When it’s finally buried inside me, they set me down and wisely make no mention of the fact my legs are shaking. My mood has started to fray. The sweet parts of me are starting to fade, to disintegrate, to crumble, leaving me considerably less polite than normal.
“What are you doing?” There’s a raw harshness in my voice that should serve as a warning. Instead, it does the opposite.
Mat’s face lights up and shines with excitement. “You’ll see.”
“Actually”—Will picks up the sleep mask Mat tossed on the floor—“maybe you won’t.”
He covers my eyes. The room goes dark, and I feel the slight pressure of fabric over my eyelids. I hear Mat’s footsteps move away from us, and I feel Will’s big hands on me, adjusting the mask so it’s perfect, taking his time to stroke my hair and tuck flyaway pieces behind my ears.
Will walks away too. I hear bare feet on timber, moving in the same direction Mat went.
The lack of their touch and their presence gives me a moment to fully appreciate the position I’ve found myself in: bound, trussed up, restrained by the wrists with a monster-sized plug up my ass, tied to my own fucking stripper pole as the two men I love giggle together.
I hear zippers coming undone. Belt buckles clatter as they hit the floor.
A quick intake of breath. A soft sigh. The slick sound of mouths making contact.
Lips parting. Tongues touching. My hips roll and arch forward.
Knowing what they’re doing and not being able to see it wakes something inside me. Something hungry. Something angry.
“Untie me!”
Soft laughter.
“Untie me right now, or you’ll be sorry.”
More laughter. A little louder. A little closer.
The first strains of a song fill the room. A steady, seductive beat. I know the rhythm and the melody of the song, but I don’t know the name. Don’t need to because I know the name of the playlist.
Imma get laid.
The sound flows through me, working its way through muscle and bone, easing itself into my marrow.
It lies dormant for several seconds, benign but inside me.
Waiting. Waiting until the first surge of the song.
My hips buck and move involuntarily, writhing sinuously, slowly moving in time with the beat.
Every tiny movement jostles the huge toy stretching me open.
It draws my attention to the distension, the discomfort, the pressure, the pleasure.
Every small circle my hips make knocks the plug hard against my prostate.
Sparks fly. Pure, unadulterated arousal sinks down my body and pools in my groin.
My dick strains and my balls ache. It’s a deep ache, a mournful sensation that feels like it has the potential to drive me insane. It agitates me and floods me with heat.
Oooh, the dude-bros are playing with fire.
A hand on my hip.
A mouth on my chest.
A tongue running slowly up my side.
Soft, warm lips on my left nipple, teasing it, making it hard, tugging and sucking it gently.
Another mouth on my right. Harder. Faster. A scrape of teeth. A deep pinch. A different type of pleasure, but one that’s no less intense.
Two mouths. Two tongues. Two men. Hands in my hair, hands on my neck, and hands splayed out on my stomach.
Big hands. Hot hands. Hands that stroke softly and hands that grab hard.
A hard man and a soft boy working together to break me apart, consuming me, turning me on harder than I’ve ever been turned on.
“Please,” I whine as their hands work their way down. They back up and retreat. Back up and retreat until my cock is burning with fury and leaking pure wrath from the tip. I buck and fight my restraints, which serves only to fuel the flames ripping through me.
“Untie me, you fuckers.” The words burn the back of my throat. I sound like something that’s possessed. “Or I’ll fuck you both till you cry.”
Will whips the mask off my eyes, leaving me blinking rapidly, startled by the sudden influx of light to my retinas as his handsome face comes into focus.
Strictly speaking, he’s smiling, but it’s one of those smiles that looks a lot more like a snarl.
Mat stands beside him, slowly running his fingertips through the fine trail of dark hair leading from my navel to my cock.
He looks mesmerized. Fixated. Smiling as he grazes the back of his hand against my engorged shaft.
Pulling his hand back quickly and smiling harder when I hiss.
“Well,” says Will. “What do you think?”
It takes me a second to piece his words together, to make the letters and sounds come together to make something meaningful.
It takes me another second to adjust my focus.
They step away from me. Dark skin and pale skin.
Long, defined lines and solid muscle and bulk.
One’s borderline scary and the other is sunshine and smiles.
Two sexy big boys, both wearing nothing but a pair of tiny white cotton briefs.
“Are those tighty-whities?” I wail.
Jesus, it’s a fucking emergency, babe.
You got to get down here right now.
Their eyes twinkle and they give each other a knowing look.
Then they turn and drape an arm around each other and start walking to the bed.
As they walk, Will drops his hand down, skimming the small of Mat’s back and cupping his ass cheek protectively, intentionally slipping a finger under the fabric where it’s creeping up Mat’s butt crack and gently easing it out.
My hips jerk forward. Hard. Angry. The plug punches my gland, making me moan so loudly I’d feel pathetic if I was still something that could feel things other than lust and desire.
Through the thick smog and mist clouding my thoughts, a single, clear train of thought forms. I can scarcely dare to believe it, but I know in my bones it’s true.
They’re going to do it.
They’re going to give me what I’ve always wanted.
We’re not just talking hot shit here. We’re talking holy grail shit. We’re talking ultimate fantasy shit.
My ass clenches in anticipation, squeezing the plug and forcing a terrible sound from the back of my throat.
Mat bounces onto the bed, grabbing two pillows and tossing one to Will as he crawls onto the bed too.
Oh no.
They wouldn’t.
“D-don’t you dare.” I sound nothing like I hope to sound. I fight my restraints, desperately testing the tape for give, seeing if there’s any way I can free myself and get to the men on my bed.
They both look at me and chuckle. Will looks a little self-conscious.
Mat is wholly committed to his role. He swings the pillow back and whacks Will solidly on the side.
Before Will can react, Mat hits him again.
And again. Will starts laughing in earnest, eyes sliding shut in amusement as he takes a swing at Mat.
They go back and forth, swiping at each other and filling the room with the boyish sound of their laughter.
My dick strains toward them. My heart feels like it’s full to bursting.
I only mentioned this to them once. I mentioned it in passing, almost as a joke when we hardly knew each other at all, but they’d heard me. They remembered. What they’re showing me isn’t just that they’re fun and ridiculous and fire in bed.
It’s telling me they know me. They accept me. And they love me.