“And I want to get fucked by two dicks.” Jared’s own words made him shiver hard, and his elbows buckled. His arms almost gave out under him, but Tristan caught him and held him steady as Jared moaned, “Come on.”
Blake’s mouth watered. Jesus.
“I don’t know.” Jason ran his hands over Jared’s gorgeous ass. He glanced at Blake. “Seems like we should—”
“Fuck me now,” Jared growled.
Tristan squirmed underneath him. He lifted his hips and fucked Jared as best he could from that position, and mouthed what was probably a curse. “Maybe we should. I think Jared’s getting a little—” he thrust hard into Jared, making him whimper “—turned on.”
“Yes, please do.” Blake couldn’t even stroke his cock right then. He was arguably even more turned on than Jared, and he wasn’t the one about to have two very hard, very nice dicks in him.
Jason and Tristan exchanged grins, and then Jason put on some more lube and guided himself to Jared’s ass. His hips came forward, and stopped when he presumably met resistance. He stayed like that for a moment, then shifted forward just slightly.
One of the others groaned. Blake couldn’t even tell which. It could have easily been Jared, but Tristan’s eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows were pulled together, so it might’ve been him. Fuck, Blake hadn’t even thought of how good it might feel for Tristan, being deep inside Jared with another dick sliding back and forth along his.
Jason ran a hand up Jared’s side. “You okay?”
Jared nodded. He rocked back, and all three of them made soft sounds of pleasure—a moan, a gasp, a very British curse. Jason drew back slightly, then pushed in again, and he seemed to go a bit deeper this time. He worked himself in at a glacial pace, and the moans, gasps, and curses grew louder and more breathless. Tristan could barely move, but that didn’t stop him from trying—the lean muscles in his legs stood out as he pressed his heels into the mattress and slowly, carefully fucked Jared. Somehow, he and Jason fell into sync with each other, and suddenly they were both moving smoothly and fluidly, both holding on to Jared for dear life—Tristan gripping his shoulders, Jason his hips—and gasping and panting.
And Jared . . . Jared was so obviously in heaven, he could have sold a million pornos that were nothing but one long shot of his face. He was flushed, his eyes closed, sometimes biting his lip, sometimes mouthing words Blake couldn’t hear.
Jason let his head fall back, and his fingers tightened on Jared’s hips. “We should . . . we should make you buy orgasms, but I don’t . . .”
“Fuck that,” Tristan breathed. “Orgasms are included.”
“Oh thank God. Fuck . . .” Jason was the very picture of concentration—lips tight, brow furrowed—and his thrusts were faster now.
Jared whimpered. His arms shook under him, and Tristan pulled him all the way down, letting him settle on his chest while the two tops did the work.
Someone swore, and Blake realized it was him. He didn’t even remember when he’d started stroking himself again, but he was, and he was getting close, and holy fuck, he knew that expression on Jason’s face. That combination of concentration and surrender, trying to hold on just a little longer, but giving in at the same time.
It was Tristan who came first. He released a cry that set Blake off, and Blake pumped himself through his own orgasm as he watched Tristan squirm and thrash beneath Jared. And then the guys moved a bit, as if Tristan had pulled out—not that Blake could make sense of anything at this point. He was lucky he could even focus his eyes as his whole body jerked and trembled through the last few jolts of his orgasm.
“Oh fuck,” Jason moaned. “Now you’re all mine.” He dug his fingers into Jared’s hips and just let him have it, fucking him deep and hard. “And you’re . . . slick as fuck.”
Blake slurred a few curses. Jason was no doubt using Tristan’s semen as additional lube, and Jared was swearing and shaking and trying to complement Jason’s violent thrusts, and if Blake hadn’t already come, he would have right then, he was sure of it.
Jared tensed. Arched. Swore. Then Jason did too, pulling Jared’s hips to him so he could bury himself fully as he threw his head back and lost it, and this was easily the hottest thing Blake had ever witnessed.
God. He’d been right.
This was worth every penny.
Jason disappeared from the frame, likely to get rid of the condom. Meanwhile, Tristan was holding on to Jared, stroking his hair with an unsteady hand and murmuring softly to him. And Jared, well, he was the epitome of the phrase “wet noodle.” His eyes were closed, his body limp and relaxed on top of Tristan’s. Even when Jason returned with a couple of towels, Jared could barely move. Jason and Tristan helped him get up and roll onto his side, and the two of them gently cleaned him off.