Chapter 6 #2
When Rex frees himself, he’s as imposing as the rest of him. Not the longest, but thick as my wrist, with a heavy pair of balls that promise a massive load. A single thick vein runs along the underside.
He doesn’t give me a chance to prepare. One big hand tangles in my hair and pulls me forward, feeding himself into my mouth.
My nose ends up buried in wiry blond hair at his base, and I can feel him at the back of my throat.
I’m gagging, my whole body convulsing, but he holds me there, a low groan vibrating through his chest.
“Fuck,” someone whispers. I think it’s Malik.
Rex finally pulls back, letting me suck in a ragged gasp of air before thrusting back in.
He’s not gentle, but he’s not trying to hurt me either.
He’s taking what he wants, using my mouth like he’d use his own hand.
Hard, deep strokes that make my eyes water and my jaw ache.
I love it. I dig my fingers into the muscles of his thighs and do my best to relax my throat, to be a good, compliant hole for him to use.
He’s so focused, so single-minded that I’m not sure he even notices when the others join back in.
But they do.
Malik and Flynn flank me again, hard cocks jutting toward my face. I reach for them, one in each hand, stroking in time with Rex’s thrusts. Three cocks demanding my attention. Three pairs of balls to cup and tug. Three voices groaning and cursing above me.
My world narrows to this. The smell of sweat and arousal. The taste of skin. Harsh breathing and whispered praise. The stretch of my lips, the ache in my jaw, the desperate throb of my own untouched cock. I’m drowning in them. In this glorious sensation of being the center of it all.
When Rex finally lets me pull off, I start moving from one to the next, sucking each for a good long minute. Flynn. Malik. Back to Rex. They all get the same treatment. My wet, eager mouth. My stroking, twisting hands. I don’t want any of them to feel left out.
“My turn,” Malik grunts, nudging himself against my cheek when I spend too long on Rex.
“Greedy bastard,” Flynn laughs, pushing in from the other side.
I open wider, trying to take them both at once, but there’s no way. Instead, I press them together, rubbing the slick heads against each other and flicking my tongue over both. They shudder in unison.
I’m lost in a haze of cock and spit and precum, my mind blank, my body running on pure instinct. I don’t know how long we’ve been at it. Long enough for my knees to go numb, for my jaw to feel permanently unhinged, for the floor beneath me to be slick with drool. I could do this all night.
But the others have their limits.
Malik’s the next to go. He’s been edging himself, pulling away whenever he gets too close, but when I wrap my lips around him and swallow him to the root, that’s it.
He lets out a choked gasp and grabs the back of my head, holding me still as he empties himself.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, his hips stuttering.
This is the part I love most. That moment of total loss of control. A strong man falling apart in my hands. The salty, bitter taste flooding the back of my throat.
The sight is enough for Flynn. He watches Malik come, watches me swallow, and then he’s right behind him, a guttural groan tearing from his chest as he stripes my face with warm, thick ropes. They splash across my cheek, my nose, my lips, dripping down onto my shirt.
“Shit, sorry, Justin,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.
I blink, eyelashes sticky with it, and try to lick what I can reach. “Sorry for what?”
“For making a mess.”
“I like the mess.”
That just leaves Rex. He’s been watching everything.
How I swallowed for Malik. How I let Flynn paint my face.
Now he’s stroking himself with a brutal grip, the muscles in his arm corded tight.
His torso is slicked with sweat, the eagle tattoo on his forearm stretching as he works himself.
His jaw is clenched, his eyes locked on me.
“Mouth open. Tongue out,” he commands.
I obey, tilting my head back, looking up at him with my tongue out. I want it. I want his load. I want to be marked by all of them.
“Get ready.”
“Give it,” I slur, tongue lolling.
He aims that thick cock at my face and lets go with a harsh grunt.
The first shot lands hot across my tongue.
The second hits my upper lip. The third goes straight into my open mouth.
I swallow what I can, but there’s too much.
It spills from the corners of my mouth, dribbles down my chin, drips onto my soaked shirt.
A thick rope hits my cheek and slides down slowly. I close my eyes and just feel it.
Feel how I’ve broken this quiet, locked-down soldier wide open. How he’s emptying those heavy balls, all that stored-up tension, right onto my face. The sounds coming out of him are almost pained. Like he’s been caging this for years and it’s finally being ripped out of him.
He staggers back when he’s done, breathless, and leans against the bunk. Tucks himself in, zips up, walks to the sink without a word. That’s fine. He said enough with his cock.
I stay there for a long moment, kneeling on the floor, covered in them. Cum dripping down my face and onto my shirt, the taste of all four of them on my tongue. I’ve never felt dirtier. I’ve never felt more powerful.
They’re all spent. Sam’s collapsed on his bunk, arm thrown over his eyes. Flynn is lighting a cigarette. Rex is scrubbing his hands at the sink, his back to us. And Malik... Malik is kneeling in front of me.
“Everyone came except you,” he says, dark eyes soft as he looks at my ruined face. He wipes a smear of cum from my cheekbone with his thumb. “Let’s fix that.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Only seems fair,” he says, already unbuttoning my jeans. He pulls my aching cock free and my whole body jerks. I was so focused on them, on pleasing them, I almost forgot about myself.
He spits in his palm and wraps it around me, stroking with a tight, steady grip. “This what you wanted, J? All of us?”
“Yes,” I choke out.
“All that cock. All that cum.” His thumb swipes over the head, smearing precum. “Thirsty little thing, aren’t you?”
I can only nod, my hips starting to move, pushing into his fist. I’m so close. Watching them come, being the center of all that lust, feeling them finish on me, has wound me so tight a few more of those twisting strokes are all it takes.
“Come on,” Malik coaxes. “Give it to me.”
My back arches, a choked gasp ripping out of me as I pulse in his fist, spattering the dusty floor. The relief hits so hard my vision whites out. I slump forward, forehead against Malik’s shoulder, my whole body trembling.
“That’s it. Let it all out,” he murmurs against my ear, stroking my back. “Good boy. So good for us.”
He stays with me for a minute while I get my breath back. Then he helps me up. At the sink, I scrub my face with warm water, working the dried cum out of my eyebrows, off my cheeks, from behind my ears. The taste of them lingers in the back of my throat.
No one says much. We all retreat to our bunks, the energy in the room shifting from wild and chaotic to heavy and spent. Flynn smokes his cigarette by the open door, the smoke drifting out into the night air. Rex lies on his bunk, staring up, motionless. Sam is already asleep, or pretending to be.
The dark settles as I strip off my sticky shirt, crawl into my bunk, and pull the blanket over my bare skin. My jaw aches, my knees are bruised, and my throat feels raw. Every inch of me used up in the best possible way.
I lie there listening to the others breathe. The quiet after the storm.
And I can’t stop smiling.