21. Permission #7
He looked up at me, eyes blown wide, mouth open in invitation. I tangled a hand in his hair, guiding him closer, and he took me into his mouth without hesitation, lips stretching around my length, tongue swirling as he sucked me deep .
The sensation was dizzying—Rowan’s mouth on my cock, Tom and David’s mouths on his ass, the wet, filthy noises filling the room, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air.
Tom glanced up, voice rough with approval. “Look at you, baby. Taking all of us. Such a good fucking boy.”
David groaned, tongue working deep, fingers digging into Rowan’s hips to hold him steady. “He tastes so fucking sweet,” he muttered, “could eat him for hours.”
Rowan whined around my cock, hips jerking, the pleasure overwhelming. He was a mess, spit and precome slicking his thighs, his body shivering with every lick, every touch. I held his head, thrusting slow and steady, giving him just enough to handle.
“Good boy,” I praised, voice thick. “You love this, don’t you? Love being used, love having all our mouths on you, making you our mess.”
He nodded, desperate, moaning around my cock as Tom and David redoubled their efforts—tongues probing, lips sucking, teeth grazing just enough to make him gasp.
I let him take me deep, fucking into his mouth with slow, measured thrusts, watching his eyes roll back, his throat working to swallow every inch.
Tom pressed two fingers to Rowan’s hole, spreading him wider, then spit—wet and messy—before diving back in, licking around the rim, teasing and soothing in equal measure.
David finally pulled back, breathless, his face flushed, pupils wide.
He looked at me—something soft and hungry in his eyes—then moved to lie down beside me, propping himself up against the headboard.
His cock was hard and leaking, thick veins running down the shaft, sweat shining on his broad chest.
“Come here, pretty boy,” David murmured, voice gone low and coaxing. “Show me how much you want it. Worship me.”
Rowan didn’t hesitate. He crawled up, lips and chin shining with spit and Tom’s slick, eyes dazed with pleasure.
David opened his arms, inviting, and Rowan settled between his thighs, hands bracing on David’s strong, hairy legs.
He looked up, waiting, wanting—every inch of him soft and eager for praise.
David flexed for him—arms up behind his head, biceps bunching, pits exposed, chest rising with each deep breath. “You like what you see, huh?” he teased, voice going gruff. “Gonna show Daddy how grateful you are?”
Rowan nodded, worshipful. He dragged his tongue up the thick line of David’s thigh, kissing the muscle, biting softly.
His hands roamed, greedy for the warmth of living flesh, fingers digging into muscle and hair.
He nuzzled into David’s armpit, inhaling deep—the scent pure man, sweat and salt and aftershave.
Rowan moaned, open-mouthed, letting his tongue lap over the dark curls, licking up every drop of sweat he could find.
David groaned, one hand coming up to stroke the back of Rowan’s head, not guiding—just holding, anchoring him there. “Fuck, that’s it,” David praised, his tone equal parts affection and awe. “You worship so good, pretty boy. So hungry for it.”
Rowan moved between David’s pits, dragging his mouth from one to the other, licking and kissing, losing himself in the flavor.
He bit lightly, then soothed with his tongue, moving up to nuzzle at the stubble on David’s jaw before kissing his way down the thick column of his neck, tasting skin and sweat.
When he finally made it to David’s cock, he didn’t rush.
He started with slow, reverent kisses to the shaft, tonguing at the thick vein, then moved to the head, lapping up the bead of precome, savoring the taste.
He stroked David’s balls with one hand, massaging, coaxing, while his mouth worked its way down, taking David deep.
David flexed again, showing off for Rowan, his chest and arms taut with strength. “You like that, baby?” he growled, hips rolling up to meet Rowan’s eager mouth. “Like how big I am? How much I want you?”
Rowan’s answer was a desperate moan, muffled around David’s cock.
He sucked, cheeks hollowing, head bobbing as David’s breath hitched and his thighs trembled.
Every time he surfaced for air, he mouthed at David’s abs, kissing the ridges, licking sweat from the dip below his navel.
He worshipped every inch, letting his need show in every filthy, grateful sound.
I watched them, stroking myself absently, heart pounding at the sight of Rowan so undone, so willing to give himself over to pleasure.
But David wasn’t the only one hungry for Rowan’s mouth.
“Over here,” I commanded, and Rowan—still dazed, mouth red and swollen—turned to me, crawling into my lap.
I flexed for him, spreading my arms, showing off the width of my shoulders, the cut of my biceps, the thick thatch of hair at my pits.
He didn’t need any more invitation. He dove in, burying his face under my arm, licking at the salt and musk, moaning as he mouthed at my pit, desperate and filthy.
“You love it,” I praised, holding him there, letting him feast on my scent. “That’s my good boy. Suck it, baby. Show me how grateful you are.”
He whimpered, dragging his tongue through the hair, nose pressed deep, then moved lower, mouth latching onto my chest. He sucked at my nipples, biting gently, worshipping with tongue and teeth, marking me with kisses as he worked his way down.
My cock was hard, aching, leaking. Rowan looked up at me, pupils blown, then took me in hand, guiding my cock to his lips.
He licked the head, tasting the salt, then swallowed me deep, gagging a little but never backing off.
His throat fluttered around me, the sensation electric.
I flexed for him, arms braced behind my head, chest rising with each breath, letting him see how much I wanted him.
Tom watched from the foot of the bed, eyes dark, stroking himself slow. I met his gaze, and he nodded, understanding what came next.
I reached for the lube on the nightstand and tossed it to Tom, the bottle landing with a soft thud on the mattress.
“Your turn,” I said, voice thick with want. “Fuck him, Tom. Show him how much we want him.”
Tom grinned, wicked and hungry, slicking his fingers before settling behind Rowan. He teased the tight, spit-slick hole, working a finger in, then two, stretching Rowan slow and steady. Rowan moaned, hips rocking back against Tom’s hand, all submission and need.
Tom lined up, rubbing the head of his cock against Rowan’s entrance, teasing just a second longer, then pushed in—slow, relentless, filling Rowan until his ass was stretched wide, his body trembling with the force of it.
Rowan gasped, mouth coming off my cock with a wet, desperate sound. “Fuck—yes, please, Daddy, need it, need you to fuck me?—”
Tom’s hands gripped Rowan’s hips, holding him steady as he thrust in deep, burying himself to the hilt. The sound was obscene—flesh meeting flesh, Rowan’s breathless moans mixing with Tom’s low curses.
David watched, stroking himself, eyes locked on Rowan’s face. I cupped Rowan’s jaw, guiding his mouth back to my cock. “Take me, baby,” I coaxed, voice gone soft. “Suck Daddy while Tom fucks you. That’s it. Show us how much you love being used.”
Rowan obeyed, eager, letting me fill his mouth as Tom filled his ass, the rhythm building, heat coiling tighter with every movement .
The room was thick with scent and sound—sex, sweat, the low grunts and moans of men lost to pleasure. David and I flexed, showing off our bodies for Rowan, letting him worship us, take us, be taken in turn.
Tom fucked him slow at first, then harder, driving deep, hips slapping against Rowan’s ass. I held Rowan’s face, letting him choke and gasp on my cock, then praising him for every filthy, desperate sound.
“You’re perfect,” I told him, meaning every word. “Such a good boy, taking all of us, making us lose our minds.”
Rowan whimpered, caught between pleasure and devotion, his own cock leaking against the sheets, untouched, desperate.
Tom’s rhythm grew punishing, each thrust sending Rowan’s body forward, his moans muffled by my cock in his mouth.
Sweat slicked our skin, the room hot and thick with the scent of sex.
I watched Rowan come undone—eyes glazed, hands shaking as he braced himself on the sheets, hips bucking with every stroke.
He was a mess, spit and tears streaking his face, his own cock leaking onto the bed. The sound of Tom’s hips slapping against Rowan’s ass, the wet suck of Rowan’s lips around my cock, and the deep, hungry praise in David’s voice made the moment feel endless—weightless and heavy all at once.
“Look at you,” I murmured, my voice low and rough as I stroked Rowan’s cheek. “Taking everything we give you. Still begging for more.”
He whimpered, the sound vibrating around me, and I felt my control slip further. Tom was relentless, driving in deep, the bed creaking beneath us, but there was something in Rowan’s face—utter devotion, complete surrender—that made me want to push him even further.
I slipped from his mouth, letting him gasp for air, and cupped his jaw. He looked up at me, pupils blown, lips swollen and shiny. “Please, Daddy,” he whispered, “want to give you everything. Want to take it all.”
My own body pulsed at his words, and I knew exactly what he meant. I sat back against the headboard, spreading my legs wide, and pulled Rowan’s head to my lap.
“You want to be my good boy?” I said, softer now, almost gentle. “Want to show us how much you can take?”
He nodded, eager, mouth open, tongue out in silent invitation.
I gripped the base of my cock, aiming the flushed head at his waiting mouth. “Keep your mouth open, pretty boy. Don’t spill a drop.”