Page 34 of Canned & Coated

“God, yes,” Milo breathes, eyes dark. “I want to watch him fuck you, but what do you want?”

I look between them, these two men who’ve orbited my life for so long. Want tangles with fear in my chest. I’ve spent years making myself smaller, denying what I crave.

What if I reach for this and it breaks?

What if I’m not enough for both of them?

“We can stick to this,” Tanner says softly. “No pressure.”

Something shifts inside me then. Their patience, their willingness to wait while I figure myself out. It’s been there all along, hasn’t it? A smile spreads across my face, surprising even me with its boldness.

“I want everything,” I say.

9

We stumble toward the tent, lips crashing together as we fumble with fabric. Clothes fall behind us in a careless trail.

My tank by the cooler, Milo’s shorts snagged on a stake, Tanner’s somewhere lost to the dark.

We tumble through the flap, and Milo’s weight follows mine down onto the open sleeping bag.

When I look up, Tanner’s there above us. His eyes track every movement between us, taking it all in and not missing a thing.

Milo bears down his full weight atop me, his erection sliding alongside mine with delicious friction. His mouth turns desperate on my neck, teeth grazing skin.

I blink up through the haze to see Tanner tugging his shorts past his hips, cock springing free. Thick and flushed in the dim light. My fingers find him and wrap around his velvet smooth skin, drawing a sharp intake of breath from somewhere above me.

Tanner edges closer until his cock finds the narrow space between our faces. Milo’s eyes flick up, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he leans in, lips parted to welcome Tanner’s cock, drawing it downward in a slow motion until our mouths meet, tongues colliding as we share the hard length between us, neither willing to surrender the taste of salt or skin or each other.

“Christ. Give me a second,” Tanner hisses as he jerks back with a sharp inhale. His cock slips from between our lips, glistening. “You two trying to finish me before we even start?”

“What can I say?” Milo’s says, voice raspy. “Nate’s got skills.”

“I’m enthusiastic,” I mumble.

Tanner drops to his knees with a kind of eagerness that feels almost predatory. For a second, I think he’s going to lean in for another kiss, but he doesn’t. He pauses, gaze fixed on Milo’s face like he’s committing every detail to memory.

Then Tanner tilts his head, mouth opening as his tongue flicks out, catching a bead of sweat as it slips down the line of Milo’s jaw. The gesture is unexpectedly gentle.

Milo makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before and his body shudders above me. Tanner doesn’t stop. He follows each new trace of sweat he can find, pressing his mouth along the hollow of Milo’s throat, the sensitive skin behind his ear, mapping him out with slow intent.

Milo’s breathing turns uneven, and I’m caught beneath him, hyper-aware of everything at once. The weight, the heat, the way the moment keeps building with nowhere to go but further in.

Milo pins me beneath the weight of his hips, but I manage to squirm up so I catch his shoulder between my teeth.

Tanner’s hand glides over Milo’s back before slipping lower to cup him, fingers tightening with an easy, familiar confidence. At the same time, Milo’s cock smears a wet streak across my chest, leaking pre-cum onto my skin.

Every nerve in my body is lit up, and I realize if this keeps going for even another minute, I’m going to embarrass myself in a way that will be recounted for generations.

Tanner pulls back, that sharp, almost feral edge in his expression easing into something looser. A slow, satisfied grin tugs at his mouth. “I need to lie down,” he murmurs.

He drops back onto the sleeping bag, one hand dragging down my chest with unhurried pressure.

“Strip,” he commands, voice rough. “Then I want that ass on my face.”

I arch an eyebrow, hesitating. “You sure that’s…“

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Whatever you’re thinking… I can handle your weight. Sit on my fucking face, Nate.”