I bit my lip. “How tho?—”
“Very.” He kissed me again, just a fingertip under my chin, but that touch was enough to hold me immobile while he had his way.
We’d been spoiled, with our team accommodations at home, and the showers that easily accommodated two people. Here, there was no such luxury so I hustled to clean myself inside and out so the others could also get in and rinse off the nervous sweat and clean up.
I wasn’t surprised that Alan sent Evan in next while he carefully dried me off, taking his time, drawing it out with kisses, caresses, soft murmurs of approval when I spread my legs for him to get at my balls.
“Are you going to dry my cock off, already?” I asked, closing my eyes as he dragged the towel over my ass, and his fingertips up my spine. “Mmm. I love when you touch me.”
“In good time.”
Evan came out of the bathroom then, and Alan handed me the towel.
“Get him dried off while I shower.” He cupped the back of my head and kissed me, a deep, long, groan-worthy kiss before stepping back so he could take us both in. “No one gets off without me.” His smile was hungry. “And no clothes.”
That, frankly, wasn’t a surprise either. I wasn’t about to complain about the no clothes part.
What was surprising, was Evan’s attention as I did what Alan told me to do and dried him off. He kept a hand on me at all times: on my shoulder while I dried his chest and arms, in my hair when I crouched to dry his legs and feet.
“Suck the water off my cock,” he said while I was down there. It wasn’t a request, though it fell just short of being a demand.
“We’re not supposed to get off until he gets back.” I looked up at him to find his eyes dark and demanding as his voice hadn’t been, as he gazed down at me.
“I didn’t say get me off, I said suck.” He thrust his hips forward enough his erection poked at the corner of my mouth.
My own cock jumped at the heat in his eyes as he tangled his fingers in my hair. Confidence radiated off of him, making my palms sweat and my skin heat.
For sure Alan had coached him to do this while he was busy.
I opened, and he moved, holding his cock lightly while he slowly pushed it past my lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he pushed in, dragged himself back, and pushed in again.
“That’s good,” he praised me in a whisper. “Just like that. No, don’t touch yourself.”
I’d dropped the towel to grab my dick, but stopped at his words. How many times had I said that exact thing to him? Had Alan? Refusing him relief while he serviced one of us. He revelled in the denial of his own pleasure, in doing what we wanted and holding back his own orgasm until we were satisfied.
I’d never been in that boat.
Maybe something showed in my expression because he eased out of my mouth, never taking his eyes off me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Ever.”
Of course I knew that. I nodded.
“Say it. Words.” It was something we’d always insisted on together, and something Alan firmly reinforced. Words. Always words, always explicit, always clear.
Before I could muster the brain power to form them, Alan returned from his shower, and his damp legs pressed to my back. He leaned over me to kiss Evan, a brief, intense connection, then his hand joined Evan’s in my hair.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been on my knees for one or the other of them, but it was the first time I’d been here, between them, below them, encompassed by them.
“What are you doing, precious?” Alan asked.
“Oh. Keeping him occupied,” Evan said.
Alan stroked fingers down the side of my cheek, curling them under my chin and lifting so my head was tilted back and I could see up into both their faces. “Are you okay down there?” he asked.
I swallowed, feeling the force of it under his touch, and nodded.
“Words,” he said.
“I am,” I managed, though it came out rough. “I’m good.”
