Chapter 17
Katt’s entire body felt deflated as he seemed to melt into the soft bed, unmindful of his own sticky deposits soiling the sheets beneath him. It kind of felt good, actually, heightening the erotic atmosphere of the moment.
Strong hands massaged his ass cheeks, slowly rubbing across his lower back and up to his shoulder blades.
Katt moaned into the pillow as every muscle relaxed beneath the firm yet tender rubdown.
During orgasm, his muscles had locked so tightly he’d almost gotten Charley horses in some areas. The massage did wonders for him.
Samson hovered over him as he continued working his muscles with skilled hands. His lips brushed the nape of Katt’s neck. “How are you feeling?”
Breathing deeply, Katt exhaled heavily, deflating against the mattress again. “Amazing,” he mumbled.
“Do you want to continue?” Samson whispered along the curve of his neck.
“It’s your decision.” Even as he spoke, his massive erection glided between Katt’s ass cheeks, not invasive or demanding, but almost massaging.
It felt good and inspired Katt to slightly raise his hips away from the bed.
But the sheer size of the organ reminded him that it might not feel so good going in.
The twins had left the bed for a moment, allowing Samson to soothe Katt’s overstimulated body and mind. Katt sensed them nearby, felt their warm gazes, and heard their soft whispers. He remembered the cameras and tensed again, but Samson’s presence and touch calmed him.
When they’d first entered the studio and undressed, Katt had been hyper-aware of the cameras, unsure whether he could perform on film with a camera crew watching.
But as soon as the twins laid him down and began “loving” on him, all thoughts of the cameras vanished.
Then Samson joined in, and everyone else faded to the far reaches of his consciousness.
Samson’s question lingered like a soft breath on his skin. Do you want to continue?
The only thing that delayed his answer was the magnitude of what meant to penetrate him. As much as he liked Samson and was drawn to him… as a man with a virgin ass, he couldn’t help but be a tad frightened of the giant cock.
Samson lowered somewhat without resting his full weight on Katt’s back, supporting himself on his elbows against the bed.
The heat of his chest and stomach warmed Katt’s already flushed skin, his hips curving slightly over Katt’s ass as he slowly, rhythmically stroked his incredibly large erection between his cheeks.
The gentle rocking motion sent heat pooling deep into Katt’s loins, spreading outward through his thighs in slow, radiating waves.
On reflex, he lifted his ass, hips rolling up to meet the rhythm without thinking.
The sounds that left him were barely sounds at all—small, broken things that dissolved before they reached the pillow.
Samson’s cock moved through the crease of him with a kind of devastating patience, the thick shaft rolling across his hole with every stroke, unhurried enough that Katt could feel the shape of him: the ridges, the pulse, the blunt swell of the root pressing briefly against the entrance each time before retreating, each pass drawing the ache inside him a little closer to the surface.
“Fuck…” Katt gasped into the pillow, squeezing fistfuls of the softness until his fingers ached.
He didn’t feel like the same person who had walked into this house a few short hours ago.
That man had come here confident he was 100% straight, willing to fuck another man only for entry into a fraternity brotherhood.
Katt wondered how he had been blind to his own sexuality all these years, how it was even possible.
Maybe subconsciously, he had agreed for this very reason—as an excuse to come to terms with who he truly was.
Samson’s lips moved from Katt’s shoulder to the side of his neck, his breath warm and controlled against the skin there.
The wet heat gathering between them had changed the quality of everything—his cock no longer just sliding but dragging now, catching slightly with each pass, the friction made slicker and more insistent with every stroke until Katt could feel the specific weight of him, the way the broad head nudged his entrance each time before pulling away.
Against the sheets, his cock stirred, then thickened, until his whole body had given itself over to Samson’s rhythm, hips rolling up to meet each forward stroke, the two of them moving together in something that was barely distinguishable from what he had always understood fucking to be.
“Uuhhh… huuh… uhh… uhh…” Katt gasped into the soft fibers of the pillowcase.
The twins appeared on the bed, lying down on either side of him again. “Do you want Samson to fuck you?” Marcus whispered, his soft lips touching Katt’s upper arm.
Marcus’s words barely registered, softened to almost nothing beneath the sound of Samson’s breath against his ear and the rhythmic creak of the bed beneath them.
The ache had moved past his ass entirely, threading upward through his pelvis and into his abdomen, tightening there in slow, adamant contractions.
His stomach muscles drew inward with each pass of Samson’s cock, his body trying to pull toward something it had never reached for before—a hollow, urgent need that felt less like wanting and more like hunger, the kind that makes you dizzy, the emptiness of it almost indistinguishable from pain.
“Yes…” Katt whimpered. “I… want… him…”
With that confession, Samson slowed, then eased off him.
Katt shuddered as large hands repositioned him onto his hands and knees.
He perched there trembling, legs spread wide, arms barely holding, head dropped forward as Samson’s slicked fingers returned to his entrance—two this time, pressing in with a slow, measured stretch that made Katt’s thighs quiver.
His back curved downward involuntarily, opening himself further, his hole gripping and releasing around the fingers as they scissored and stroked deep inside him, finding that spot again that made white light crowd the edges of his vision.
“Uuhhhh—” The sound tore out of him, ragged and unguarded, fingers twisting fistfuls of sheet.
His hips rolled back hard against the penetration, fucking himself on Samson’s hand without deciding to, chasing the pressure, needing it deeper, needing it to be more than fingers.
The ache had pooled heavily in his balls, drawing them up tight against his body.
His cock hung swollen and flushed between his thighs, a thin thread of fluid pulling from the tip each time the fingers curled inside him.
The twins closed in. One fist wrapped around him and stroked, while a mouth found the side of his neck.
The other kissed along his spine, palm flat against his stomach, steadying him.
Katt felt himself beginning to crest again—and then the fingers withdrew, slowly, pressing against his walls on the way out until only the tips remained, then nothing.
His hole clenched desperately around the absence, fluttering open and shut, slick and exposed and unbearably empty. But he knew what came next.
Are you ready for this? Are you really READY?
This was the true point of no return: once he took cock in his ass, there was no going back.
Back to what? Nothing. Everything Katt was experiencing right now, emotionally, physically…
that was his true self struggling to emerge.
He understood now, that it had been trying to get out since that day in the fort.
Maybe it was Todd’s rejection of their friendship that had caused him to lock the door tight and not even consider what was on the other side.
Maybe it was more than that, he didn’t know.
But he knew now: he didn’t want to live behind that door any longer.
Was he ready for this? Yes.
Katt was surprised by what happened next.
Samson stepped off the bed and spoke to the twins.
“You boys take over. I can’t be his first; he isn’t quite ready for that yet.
” He pulled on a white robe, moved around the side of the bed, and knelt down as Katt sank against the bed.
“The twins will further prepare you,” he murmured.
“Then I’ll finish you off.” He kissed Katt long and deep, drawing back with a soft pant. “If that’s all right with you.”
Katt nodded as the man’s kiss lingered wet on his lips.
The director, Rich, spoke to Katt. “Let the twins take the lead. They know what to do.”
“Okay,” Katt said, his voice thick.
Garrett, who had been watching from behind the cameras, approached Katt. “You’re doing great,” he said. “The less you think about the cameras, the better. Focus on the boys, and let yourself enjoy this experience.”
Katt swallowed. “Okay.”
“Are you scared about having sex with them?”
“A little, maybe,” Katt admitted. “But… what Samson was doing… it felt good.”
“What the boys do will feel even better.” Garrett smiled. “Trust me, those two will take care of you. They are caring, considerate lovers.”
Katt believed him. The twins had revealed that side of themselves. Katt felt safe in their hands.
When the director called for action again, the twins guided Katt back onto his hands and knees.
The cameras were impossible to ignore at first—he could feel the cold eye of the nearest lens trained on the small of his back, the curve of his ass, the trembling inside of his thighs.
The twins settled on either side of him, their weight shifting the mattress in two directions at once.
Hands moved across his back and down his flanks.
Mickey’s thumb found the dimple above his left hip and rested there.
“You should be his first,” Mickey said, not to Katt but across him, to Marcus. His voice was barely above a murmur.
Marcus looked at his boyfriend, then down at Katt. Something in his expression softened and held. “Yeah?”
Mickey nodded.
Katt struggled to control his breathing as Marcus positioned himself behind him, between his legs.
His soft hands massaged Katt’s ass cheeks before squeezing a generous glob of lube into his palm, working it into Katt’s hole, dipping three fingers in deep, and stroking a few times.
He hit “the spot” once or twice, warming Katt back up and reviving the ache.
More lube—this time, Marcus slicked his own cock. No condom.
One of the requirements of signing up for the Curious Boys segment was recent proof of a clean STD/HIV test. All the porn stars were tested regularly, Gideon had explained, as they often filmed scenes bareback.
When Marcus slid his greased cock through Katt’s crease, Katt realized he was glad they weren’t using condoms. He wanted to feel the flesh-on-flesh contact. Nothing between them.
Marcus squeezed Katt’s hips and drew back a fraction, touching the tip of his cock to Katt’s slick hole. “Just relax,” he murmured encouragingly. “Samson loosened you up real good. This shouldn’t hurt. But I’ll go slow.”
Mickey sank beneath Katt and between his thighs, his breath hot against the underside of Katt’s balls before his mouth sealed over the head of his cock.
The wet heat of his tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge, then Mickey took him deep, the flat of his tongue pressing against the underside of Katt’s shaft as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked.
Katt’s hips jerked involuntarily, the tip of his cock nudging the back of Mickey’s throat. A broken sound tore from his lips—half gasp, half whine—as Marcus’s slick fingers spread him open, the blunt pressure of his cockhead pressing against Katt’s entrance.
The stretch was slow, deliberate, Marcus’s dick breaching him inch by agonizing inch.
Katt’s thighs trembled, his hole burning as it yielded, the resistance giving way to a deep, aching fullness.
For a heartbeat, his body tensed, fighting the intrusion—then Mickey’s mouth worked him relentlessly, tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge before taking him to the back of his throat, and the pleasure short-circuited his nerves.
His ass relaxed, muscles unclenching as Marcus’s cock slid home, thick and unrelenting.
The burn was sharp, exquisite, the kind that made his toes curl, and his fingers claw at the sheets.
“Fuck—” Katt’s voice cracked. The pressure was overwhelming, his body stretched taut around Marcus’s cock, every ridge and vein dragging against his inner walls.
His cock throbbed in Mickey’s mouth, the suction persistent, pulling at something deep in his gut.
His balls drew up tight, the ache between his legs sharpening into something raw and desperate.
He could feel Marcus’s cock twitching inside him, the heat of it branding him from the inside out.
Katt’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body caught between the twin pleasures of Mickey’s throat working him and Marcus’s cock buried to the hilt inside him.
The dual sensations collided, his nerves alight with the impossible stretch, the heat, the friction—every nerve ending singing as Marcus rolled his hips, grinding against that spot deep inside him that made his vision whiten at the edges.
Marcus pressed his chest to Katt’s back, lips finding the knob of his spine, then trailing slowly and wetly down each vertebra.
His hands slid up Katt’s ribcage, fingers spreading wide, palming the heat of his skin.
Katt’s arms buckled slightly. Marcus ground his hips in a deep, unhurried circle, not withdrawing, just moving inside him—a slow, steady pressure that had Katt’s hole fluttering and clenching around his shaft.
“Oh, my god…” Katt choked, his hips rolling back instinctively, desperate to take Marcus deeper. His body found its own rhythm, rocking back to swallow Marcus’s cock to the root, then surging forward to bury himself in the slick heat of Mickey’s mouth. “Fuck…” he gasped. “Fuck… me…”
Marcus rose up behind him, thumbs digging into the meat of Katt’s hips, tilting them back at an angle.
His first thrust was slow and total, withdrawing almost completely before sinking in to the root with a precise roll of his pelvis that dragged the thick crown of his cock directly across that spot—and held there, grinding, before doing it again.