What He Left Behind

Despite my hands forgetting how they’re supposed to work, I somehow manage to get him the lube from the nightstand without dropping it.

Ian gets on his hands and knees and holds on to the footboard. I lie down beside him, holding myself up on my elbow, and watch, my pulse soaring as Michael kneels behind Ian with the bottle of lube in his hand.

Michael puts some lube on himself. He inhales sharply—just stroking lube onto his cock is enough to make his breath hitch. As he positions himself behind Ian, Michael’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and he’s breathing hard already, but evidently he’s still focused enough to push into Ian.

“Oh…God.” Ian moans, closing his eyes and gripping the footboard. He rocks back, driving Michael deeper. They’re breathing almost in unison now, and their bodies are falling into synch like they’ve done this a million times before.

My mouth waters. Apparently there is something hotter than watching them make out in a hot tub. Jesus Christ.

“Josh.” Ian beckons to me, and then taps the footboard in front of him. I quickly get up off the bed and come around in front of him. As soon as I’m within reach, he grabs my arm, pulls me closer. Before I know what’s happening, my cock is between his lips. I grab the footboard and Ian’s hair for balance. I’ve experienced his mouth countless times before, but all my senses are heightened tonight, and every touch sends lightning bolts through my veins.

Over Ian, I meet Michael’s eyes. I can’t tell if his skin is still damp from the hot tub, or if he’s sweating now, but either way, the sheen just adds to that primal gleam in his eyes. When he licks his lips, I can’t help shuddering, and inadvertently push my cock deeper into Ian’s mouth. He groans, though, and he starts teasing my balls with his fingers as he deep throats me.

“Shit,” I breathe. “That is so…” Words. Fuck words. Fuck thoughts. Ian’s sucking my cock and Michael’s fucking Ian right in front of me, and I don’t know or care how to articulate anything beyond a long, helpless moan.

The harder Michael fucks Ian, the more enthusiastically Ian sucks my cock. The more I curse and gasp, the harder Michael fucks Ian. I have just enough presence of mind to hope they’re both as overwhelmed with pleasure as I am, that they’re both as close to the edge. My eyes don’t want to focus, but I force them to, and it’s worth it—Michael’s definitely getting close to the edge, and the sight is unbelievable. His eyes screwed shut. His lips apart. Sharp, uneven breaths. Hard, frantic thrusts. Every muscle is tense, his knuckles blanched as he holds on to my husband’s hips, his skin shining with sweat. And God, I can feel his thrusts—every time he slams into Ian, Ian jerks forward, his lips and hand tightening around my cock like an echo of Michael fucking him.

And then Michael forces himself in as deep as Ian will take him. Ian moans, the sound reverberating through me as Michael throws his head back and releases a choked half cry, half whimper, and shudders. Ian doesn’t let up, and between his mouth and the sight of Michael coming undone, I lose it. I grab onto the footboard for balance as the world shifts beneath my feet and everything goes white for a moment. Ian keeps stroking me and teasing me with his tongue, drawing my orgasm out until my legs nearly drop out from under me.

Ian stops. I blink a few times. Michael’s dropped back onto his heels, breathing hard and also blinking like he can’t quite focus. Ian’s grinning up at me as he licks his lips.

“Oh my God,” I moan.

“Yeah.” Michael exhales. “That. But we still…” He puts a hand on Ian’s hip. “Still gotta make you come.”

“I don’t think that’ll be difficult.” Ian gets up on his knees, and he reaches for me, but Michael puts an arm around him and pulls him back. Ian turns his head, and as soon as they kiss, I swear an aftershock of my orgasm almost puts me on my knees. Michael’s out of breath, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing Ian deeply, just the way he does after I’ve sucked him off.

Ian grips the back of Michael’s head with one hand, and strokes himself with the other. Oh yeah. We definitely need to get that man off.

“Put him on his back,” I say. “I think he deserves one hell of an orgasm.”

Michael breaks the kiss. “I think you’re right.” While they shift position, I come around the bed and join them, and Ian’s shoulders have barely hit the bed before my mouth is around his cock.

“Oh yeah,” he groans. “Fuck.”

I nudge his thigh, and he parts his legs for me. When I slip two fingers inside his ass, he grips my hair. He moans, but it’s a muffled sound, and I glance up to see Michael kissing him deeply, and the two of them make out as I suck Ian’s cock and fuck him with my hand. Ian’s already close to the brink when I start; I’m tempted to stop, let him calm down completely, and then give him the kind of long blowjob he loves, but that would be cruel at this point, so I don’t hold back.