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The grip on my throat tightened, as I made one, tentative twist of my hips.
“Fuck, lil bro.”
The raw need in Jefferson’s voice, the desperation in just those three words, cut through my self-doubt like a knife.
For a moment, Brayden seemed content to sit back and watch us. Grinning, one arm thrown out along the edge of the tub; his other hand in his lap, idly groping at his dick.
“You really wanna fuck him, don’t you, bro.”
Jefferson grunted. “Always.”
A laugh. “Can I have his mouth while you get his ass?”
Jefferson reached a finger up, pulling at my bottom lip. “Ask him nicely.”
Brayden gave me a puppy-dog look, or what I figured was meant to be close to it. “Pretty please, Eoin; can I put my dick in your throat?”
I knew, from the noise he made behind me, that Jefferson had felt my answer - the way I’d swallowed against his hand’s tight grip - before I could find the words for it. In the end, I just nodded.
“Sweet,” Brayden said, eyeing me hungrily.
The water poured off him in sheets as he stood. Tall, and broad, and utterly enviable: a body I wanted to possess as much as I lusted after it. Wide shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, the bright red of his swimsuit stretched obscenely by the fat ridge of his trapped cock.
I looked up at him, through the deep cleft of his abs. Caught on his smirk; knowing, too, that he was waiting for me to take the final step. That my agency made it sexier, more of a turn-on. A reminder - to both of us - that I could say no if I wanted to. And so the fact that I didn’t, the fact that my mouth was already watering even before he pressed the Speedo-wrapped length of his erection against my face, could only make the moment hotter.
“Fuck, you look so good like that,” Brayden murmured, as he ground his crotch against me.
And beneath me - somehow familiar and shocking at exactly the same time - Jefferson’s fingers slid back into my eager hole.
I reached up, clawing at Brayden’s suit. Dragging the protesting fabric down, the process made doubly difficult by the meager gap between us; the scant distance I’d grudgingly allow. Mesmerized by this close-up view of his gradual exposure, inch after thick inch revealed as I worked the Speedo down. Until, finally, his cock jerked free. Slapping my cheek, as I fought the urge to instantly wrap my lips around it.
He pulled me in close a moment later, my nose forced into the space between thigh and crotch. Lungs filling with his heady, musky scent: familiar now, and with its privileged shortcuts direct to the heart of my arousal. Brayden’s cock hard against my face, his fingertips digging into my scalp as I steadied myself on his hips.
Wet jock flesh muffled my whimpers, as Jefferson worked the head of his cock into me.
Not fast, but not pausing, either. As if he was certain, now, that I’d neither protest nor struggle: a correct assumption, the hiss escaping through what sounded like his clenched teeth as I flexed my thighs to grind myself further into his lap. Relishing the exquisite stretch, the sense of fullness. Each time a surprise, and each time further stoking the embers of my addiction to him.
Jefferson’s hands gripped my upper thighs, fingers pressed into the hot crease of my groin, and yanked me back. Our grunt synchronized, delivered in stereo, as he buried himself deep.
Dazed, my body shaking, I felt Brayden pull my mouth open. Looked up with bleary eyes, to see him grinning down at me. A wink, as he eased his swollen tip across my tongue.
My hands on his muscled, perfect ass, I urged him on until my lips were brushing the close-cropped fur around the base of his dick.
For a moment I thought it was too much for me. Seeing us as if from across the hot tub: from Luke’s perspective, maybe, if he’d crept back to peek at his boyfriend’s closer-than-close team. My body sandwiched between the two older wrestlers: Jefferson’s arms around my waist, now, and Brayden tightly gripping my head. All of us frozen, motionless, as if afraid that even the slightest of movements would begin some unstoppable hurtle toward an ending we each wanted to delay as much as possible.
Brayden broke first; always the most impulsive, the one primed to chase immediate gratification. His grip on me tightening, tilting my head back. Preparing me - the angles and the obedience - so that he could long-dick my throat most efficiently, most effectively. Staring with a frown of intent focus, as my lips stretched around his thick shaft and spit bubbled down my chin.
It was good, better than good, but I still wanted more.
Rocking my hips as best I could, locked in the hold of both men. The movement small, but still enough to communicate my eagerness: Jefferson’s body shifting beneath me, his legs spreading so that I dropped further into the gap between them, impaling myself deeper on his prick.
I heard him gasp behind me. Felt the way his arms tightened in their bear hug, and the thrill of triumph at knowing I was responsible for that uncontrollable reaction.
He made lifting me seem easy, almost insultingly so. Frustrating, had I not seen Jefferson flip men twice my size; pin them down with muscles cording but his expression intently serene.
Anyway, it was hard to feel overshadowed with his fat, broad cockhead dragging at my inner-walls. Hard to feel anything, in fact, beyond the sense that he was about to turn me inside-out, and the knowledge that I wouldn’t even try to stop him.
I cut my eyes to the side, my head still pinned, at Donny’s sharp gasp. The junior sprawled over the edge of the hot tub, ass hiked high; Carlos behind him, one hand pressed at the small of Donny’s back, the other holding the black rubber plug half out of his hole. Pushing it to the side, so that his cock could squeeze in alongside it.
