Chapter 8 Grams #4
I suck the taste of Jean from Hessou’s fingers, annoyed, but undeniably pleased by the sheer excess of it. Jean pants above me, his cock still hard and flushed, twitching as another few drops spill from the tip.
“I—I’m sorry,” he breathes, chest heaving. “You squeezed me too tight, I couldn’t—I just—”
“You didn’t even try,” I say, spreading my legs wider and letting some of his cum drip out of me. “But I suppose I can’t blame you.” I drag my fingers through the mess on my stomach, smearing it over my skin before lifting them to his lips the same way Hessou did to me.
Jean’s mouth closes over my fingers without a second of hesitation, his tongue hot and eager as he licks my fingers clean. His cock jumps against me, already begging for more, and I can’t help but smile—he’s never satisfied after coming just once.
Hessou leans in when Jean pulls away from my fingers, his tongue flicking out to catch the last glistening trace of cum at the corner of Jean’s swollen lips before kissing him.
My hand fists around my own cock, stroking slowly as I watch them, the heat in my gut increasing with every slick sound of their mouths meeting.
Jean whines, his hips jerking forward helplessly, and Hessou hums against his mouth, one hand cupping Jean’s jaw while the other trails down to press between my thighs, fingers slipping easily into the mess Jean left inside me.
The stretch is delicious, my hole still loose and dripping, and I moan shamelessly as Hessou’s fingers push deeper, scooping up the thick spill of Jean’s cum before drawing his hand back.
“It’s all right, chéri,” Hessou murmurs, dragging his wet fingers over Jean’s parted lips. “You get to try again.”
Hessou kisses him again, deeper this time, swallowing every one of Jean’s needy sounds. I can’t stop touching myself to the sight, my fist sliding up and down my length in tight, greedy strokes. I arch into the bed, spreading my legs wider, trying to get their attention back to where I’m aching.
“So good for us,” Hessou breathes against Jean’s mouth before pulling back to look at me, his fingers finding my hole again.
“Even better now, hm? So soft and full of him.” He curls his fingers inside, pressing against that spot that makes my vision blur, and I gasp, my toes curling into the sheets.
Jean watches, transfixed, his cock dripping fresh pre-cum onto my hip.
“I need to—”
“You need to be inside him properly this time,” Hessou finishes for him, withdrawing his fingers and guiding Jean’s hips back toward me. “Slow. Make him feel good.”
“Come on,” I urge. “Fill me up again. I want to feel you fucking me open.”
I bite my lip as Jean sinks deeper, his cock pulsing, already leaking fresh heat inside me.
“Christ,” Jean chokes out, his hips trembling. “You’re—still so tight—”
Hessou chuckles, his palm rubbing soothing circles on Jean’s lower back. “Easy now. Don’t waste it this time.”
Jean nods, his jaw clenched, and begins to move—slow, deep thrusts that drag every inch of his cock against my insides. The friction is unbearable, my body clenching around him instinctively, and I toss my head back, my fingers digging into the sheets.
“Dieu—feels so good!”
Hessou’s dark eyes lock onto Jean’s thick cum streaked across my belly, pooled in the dip of my navel, spattered over my ribs, and then he lowers his head and drags his tongue through it. He gathers every thick string onto his tongue, his lips sealing around glistening patches to suck them clean.
Jean groans above me, his thrusts faltering as he watches.
“Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching inside me. “You—you’re going to make me— Hessou—!”
Hessou ignores him, his tongue flicking over my skin until my stomach is nearly clean.
Then he leans over me, his fingers pressing against my chin, forcing my mouth open.
He holds me there for a breath, looking down at my parted lips.
Then his own mouth softens, and a thick string of spit and cum falls from his lips onto my waiting tongue.
It’s not a flick, not a drop—it’s a slow pour, a transfer of everything he just gathered from my skin.
Feels like sacrament.
I moan, compliant, as the warm salt of it curls over my taste buds, and I swallow greedily, my cock throbbing in my fist.
“Take every drop he gave you,” Hessou murmurs, his thumb swiping over my bottom lip to catch the spill. He presses it back into my mouth, and I suck hard, craving every last drop.
My thighs tremble around Jean’s hips, my hole clenching around his cock, and he lets out a broken noise above me, his rhythm stuttering. I tighten my grip on my own cock, squeezing hard at the base to stave off my climax.
Not yet. Not before they’ve both had their fill of me.
Jean’s rhythm falters, his breath coming in ragged bursts, and Hessou pulls back just enough to glance at him, a smirk playing at his lips.
“Don’t stop,” he orders, his hand sliding down to palm Jean’s ass, urging him deeper. “He loves it like this. Look at him.”
Jean obeys, his hips snapping forward, his cock driving into me with such precision that pleasure sparks white-hot behind my eyelids.
Hessou leans down again, his mouth capturing mine in an open kiss.
I can taste the remnants of cum still lingering, and I suck his tongue greedily, my hips bucking up to meet Jean’s thrusts.
The room fills with the wet sounds of our bodies—skin slapping against skin, lips parting and meeting, the slick drag of Jean’s cock inside me.
“You love tasting him on my tongue, don’t you, my sweet thing?” Hessou breathes against my lips, his hand sliding down to wrap around my cock, his thumb smearing pre-cum over the head.
I can only whimper in agreement, too lost in sensation to form words.
Jean’s movements lose all restraint, his cock swelling inside me, and I know he’s close again—know by the way his thighs tremble against mine, by the desperate, fractured sounds he makes with every thrust.
I feel the mess he’s making, feel it drip down, feel him push it back in with every thrust, and my body opens like it’s been waiting for this exact kind of ruin.
“God,” Jean gasps, leaning over me to drag his mouth over my cheek and jaw, folding my body however he wants. “You’re—fuck! You’re so soft inside, so wet—Louis, I can feel it…”
“More. I want all of you…”
“You feel so good—I can’t—your hole’s sucking me in! Louis, please—!” he babbles, his cock twitching inside me, his voice cracking into pure want.
Hessou leans down to kiss Jean’s temple while Jean sucks a bruise into my chest; then Hessou turns to me, kissing my forehead, his lips dragging wet across the sweat-slick skin of my face until he reaches my mouth.
“You want both of us inside you?” he asks against my lips.
I nod, frantically, mind gone. “Yes—God, yes—please. I want it.”
Jean thrusts harder at that, groaning loud, his cock twitching where he’s still buried deep.
“You’re already ruined,” he mutters, voice raw. “The way you’re swallowing my cock…”
“Not enough,” I gasp, clutching at him, nails scraping. “I want more!”
“We’ll make room,” Hessou murmurs, kissing Jean’s shoulder, then reaching for the bottle of oil again.
Jean nods against my cheek, kissing me once before dragging himself out with a drawn-out moan. The sensation of him slipping free knocks a cry out of me, a needy, ruined little sob. My thighs spasm, and my hole clenches around nothing, wet with spit and oil and Jean’s pre-cum.
“Come here,” he says, laying down on his back and pulling me up and into his lap. I straddle him, knees sinking deep into the mattress, and lean forward to brace on his chest. My cock leaves wet streaks across his belly as I grind down, desperate to feel anything again.
Hessou moves behind me, the mattress dipping as he kneels close, pressing kisses to my back.
“Take him again. Let me see how open you are for us.”
I reach back to guide him in, his cock wet and hot and twitching against my hand. I sink down, moaning loud as I sit fully in his lap, hole stretched wide. Jean’s breath catches, head thrown back, his hands clamping around my waist like he might fall apart.
“Dieu, Louis,” he breathes, “You feel—God!”
“Hold him steady,” Hessou says, a hand firm on my hip, the other pressing between my shoulders to bend me forward. “Let me see how much he can take.”
He slicks his fingers again, more oil, more heat. He spreads me with both hands, thumbs dragging me open, and I sob into Jean’s neck.
“So open,” Hessou says, filthy and delighted. “Like a mouth waiting for the Eucharist. Begging for it.”
I moan, arching back against his touch.
His fingers push in beside Jean’s cock, and the pressure knocks the breath out of me. I jerk forward but Jean holds me, his voice strained and broken.
“Christ—fuck, he’s squeezing me… Your fingers—”
I drool against Jean’s skin, mouth open, whimpering as Hessou works his fingers in deeper. Jean’s cock twitches inside me, surrounded by the flex and pressure, and I clench again, trembling, every inch of me shuddering around them.
“Breathe. Let me in.”
He works slowly, so slowly, pushing against the tight resistance. His fingers are patient, coaxing, never too fast.
My whole body trembles.
“Please,” I gasp. “Please give it to me. I can take it. I want to be full, I want—fuck me, Hessou—now.”
“You are always so greedy, mon amour,” he murmurs, his voice slick with amusement and heat. “So eager to be used.”
“I want both of you. I want you to come inside me. I want to be dripping with you.”
Jean swears under his breath. Hessou kisses my shoulder, then bites it. I don’t know who groans louder, me or them.
I clutch Jean’s chest with both hands, breath catching in my throat, hips rolling involuntarily as the pressure builds.
“That’s it,” Hessou whispers. “Take me.”