Joaquin straddles Wick’s hips, frotting him while sinking his mouth down on me. The moan that leaves my body feels like it’s coming from the depths of my soul. Is that dramatic of me to say? Fuck if I care.
“Oh God, I'm going to come.”
Joaquin pulls back, and I nearly weep. “Should we edge him or make him come?” he asks Wick.
Wick taps my hip, and I adjust enough for him to talk. “We’ve got a shit ton of work today, and we’re helping Charlie with some of the cleanup. I say we let him come quick now, then edge the shit out of him later.”
“Roger that.”
“Uh, guys? You could ask me what I want?” I say on a question, hovering over Wick’s face with my hand on my hip.
Joaquin shakes his head and gives me a wink. “Not when you're sitting on Warwick's face. When you’re doing that, you are completely and utterly under our control.”
He resumes sucking on my cock, and Warwick pulls my weight back down on top of his face, and I realize there is no limit to the number of configurations we could get into.
Within seconds, I've spun up again, barely able to keep up with the sensation, a massive, multi-point orgasm rushing through me, an avalanche of pleasure and emotion.
Yeah, it’s better to let them mind my orgasms. They’re so fucking good at it.
I shift back and forth between their mouths and come on a shout, completely under their spell. Joaquin chokes a little, swallowing every drop before sliding down to administer to Wick’s hard dick. He grabs the base of Wick’s shaft as he sucks him down, his expression pure bliss. Within seconds, he’s pumping hard and fast. Wick gets into it, still spearing me with his tongue while thrusting into Joaquin's mouth.
When Wick comes, it’s a buzzy, wordless thing, his body strung out on a line, vibrating like a guitar string. Joaquin can’t keep up with the flood of cum, and it’s all over his mustache and beard.
I shift off Wick to give him room to breathe. He whines a little, but he's inhaling and exhaling like he just ran a marathon, so I ignore him and kiss Joaquin, licking the cum from his facial hair.
He’s so right. Sloppier is better.
“Colt, lie back. Wick, straddle him,” Joaquin demands, and Wick and I comply. Wick, still breathing heavily, turns around and faces me, placing his knees on either side of my hips. He rubs his jaw, but the liquid bandage is holding.
“Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “You could rebreak my jaw, and it would be so worth it.”
Joaquin smacks his ass, and Wick’s face is pure pleasure.
“Wick, you got enough lead in that pencil to fuck our boy while I fuck you?”
Wick looks down at me, biting his lip. “Fuck, I just had an orgasm that rocked my world.”
I reach up and kiss him.Same, lover. Same.
Joaquin looks a tiny bit disappointed, but Wick rises to his knees, holding up a hand. “Wait.” He looks down at his limp cock, shaking it, stroking it…talking to it. “You got another one in you, Little Wick?”
Joaquin and I look at each other, then crack up.
“Little Wick? My asshole begs to differ,” I snort out.
Joaquin nods. “My mouth too. My hand barely makes it around the base of that motherfucker.”
He ignores us and continues his conversation. After a moment, he looks back up at us, popping his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I think I can make a go of it,” he says, stroking himself to full mast in an unreasonably fast time.
I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be his cock talking to us, or…doesn’t matter. I set aside ideas for cock puppet theater for later.
Joaquin shifts behind him, pulling him back for a kiss, giving me a gorgeous view of Wick’s perfect body as his arms go up behind Joaquin’s head to deepen their connection. Whatever concerns I have about being able to come again are pretty much obliterated in that moment.
“Que bonito. I need the both of you. Now.”
