Evan unwraps himself and sets his feet on the floor. He wobbles slightly, hands on Deacon’s chest for balance until he’s steady. And then he looks at me with a mischievous glint in his sky blue eyes. “Animal.”
“I might have had some other sorts of dreams while you were gone, too.”
I’m surprised I’m as articulate as I am after what just happened. Now the emotions are taking over again. “You better be planning to spend the night,” I say to Deacon.
He shrugs. “Maybe you two need some time.”
I cannot believe this. He’s gonna walk after Evan came back and we just fucked him together? After Evan told us both he’sin? After missing him so much? “I don’t think we’re the ones you’re thinking about,” I say.
“You know how I feel about you pouting, don’t you?”
“I’d like to see you try and get it up again after that,” I say, still washing Evan’s ass for much longer than is strictly necessary.
“Mm…” Evan groans. “I’d like to see that, too.” And then he drops to his knees.
What the fuck?
I stare in shock as Evan closes his glassy eyes and wraps his mouth around Deacon’s semi-hard length. Deacon’s satisfied groan causes me to look up at his face. He’s staring back at me with a smirk. “Get ready. I’m not done with your spoiled ass yet.”
51
EVAN
Iwake up to Isaac’s “apology” for using me repeatedly last night like it was his first day with a new toy. If there’s been a theme to the last twelve hours, it’s been atonement. We all seem to have at least three key things we seem to be seeking forgiveness for, and while the words are valuable, nothing says I’m sorry like allowing a good throat fucking or an orgasm denial.
I’m pretty sure I spent about two hours in literal subspace, and I’m not even mad about it.
Isaac gives me a long, luxurious rimming to soothe my overused hole and make me come all over his sheets. Deacon is in bed with us because he totally stayed the night. He jerks himself off while he watches us. I get the majority of his load due to my mouth’s proximity to his dick, and Isaac sucks out the leftovers.
Isaac is still as hard as a flagpole.
I stroke his erection as he’s popping off Deacon’s cock. “Where do you want to put this?”
“I’m okay,” he lies.
I grab for him, pulling him onto the bed to land between me and Deacon. I’m the first one to get his dick in my mouth, but soon enough, Deacon is right beside me and I’m passing it over to him. He sucks it deep into his throat, and I suck his balls one at a time. Isaac’s fist clenches in my hair, and he curses, his leg wrapping around Deacon’s back to give us both room.
It’s a cruel blow job. Every time Isaac gets close, Deacon and I switch places. It feels early, I’m post-orgasmic, and in no rush. I don’t think Deacon is either. We kiss along Isaac’s shaft, licking each other’s tongues and running them along the prominent ridge on his underside. Occasionally, we ignore his cock entirely to exchange devious kisses.
Isaac doesn’t know whether to encourage us or force himself on us.
He’s actually impossible not to love. I know I have to leave this afternoon, go back to LA, pick up my dog, and get back to work, but I’ll miss this feeling of being wanted for everything I have to offer, and not worried about what I don’t.
With a hand on my lower back, Deacon digs in his nails, and I take this as a signal to go ahead and put Isaac out of his misery. It’s my turn, and I take him deep, sucking hard up his entire length once before quickly bobbing up and down with a looser grip. Precum spills onto my tongue, and his dick pulses. I pull off and aim it at Deacon who engulfs him. His eyes close as Isaac cries out, and I rest my head on his thigh and watch while Deacon swallows every drop of his cum.
“I’m hard again,” Deacon says eventually, eyeing me.
I shake my head. “Oh, no you don’t. Don’t look at me.”
“You can rest when you’re in LA, Evan. Would it help if I offered to make you breakfast after?”
“You’d make me breakfast either way,” I counter.
“Listen.” He crawls over me and puts me on my back. Isaac moves his leg out of the way to leave room for us, and I feel his hand randomly sifting through my hair.
“What?” I laugh when Deacon doesn’t follow up the “listen” with anything.
He kisses me, forcing his legs between mine and wrapping one of them around his hip. Isaac offers his version of help—by giving Deacon a bottle of lube.
