“What?” Marc’s eyes opened wide, shifting between her and his friend, who was looking at him in a way he never had before.
“Are you shy now after everything we’ve done?” she asked with a purr.
“N-no, no. It’s not that.” His brain was glitching. “I’m just—” Marc inhaled deeply through his nose and took the cum-filled condom off his dick, tying a knot. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable with it. It’s completely fine if you don’t want to go any further,” he offered his friend a way out as he threw the rubber into the wastebasket.
“Who says I don’t want to?”
“Chris…” Marc called in a soft, yet warning tone.
“I’ve kissed you, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t ruin the moment.” Chris sat up, reclining back on his palms, eyes never leaving Marc’s as he lazily jerked himself. “Make me come, Zimmer.”
Fuck it.
“Take that off.”
“What?”
Marc grabbed one of the woman’s ankles and flipped her leg to the side, scooting closer to Chris. Without hesitation, he reached for his cock to remove the condom. Using protection when they were going to fuck a stranger was fine, but they knew each other. Had known the other for a decade, though a part of him didn’t recognize the man in front of him right now, and Marc was certain he had nothing to fear or be protected against.
“Fuck.” Chris hissed as the bassist fisted his shaft and stroked it a few times.
“Now relax and let me take care of you.”
Marc straightened, removing his hand without saying anything, and slid the band he had on his wrist off with his teeth to put his hair in a ponytail. They were both panting, and if their emotions matched the look of utter lust on their faces right now, they were equally feverish, too.
The bassist’s cheeks were hot, and so were his lungs, his stomach, and his dick coming back to life by itself. He shoved Chris’s chest and bent, kissing a wet trail down his body.
“Holy—” The guitarist inhaled deeply when he ran his tongue from the base to the tip of his cock, flicking it against the steel ring on it. “Fuck!”
In a swift movement, Marc forcefully pulled Chris towards him and repositioned his hips. With a hand jerking him off, he licked the crown of the guitarist’s dick, slowly dipping him in. His teeth clacked against the piercing, making him fully aware of the reality unfolding before them. He was touching Chris, savoring him, and he was going to make the best out of it.
Forward and back, corkscrewing, he sank him deeper and deeper in his mouth. He systematically worked on him. The guitarist was bigger than he seemed, though. And while getting him all the way in was a challenge for the bravest, Marc was enjoying the taste of him; his breathy groans, his silent pleas for more, his pre-cum flavored with a dash of synthetic strawberries. All of fucking him.
After a few minutes, the bassist found his rhythm, picking up on the subtle motions that made his friend tremble. Up and down. Up and down. He eagerly sucked him, suctioning when he reached the engorged head of his cock. The softness and warmth of his skin mixed with the hardness of the piercing was blinding Marc with euphoria, lust, and all the things that were forbidden to speak of.
Suddenly, fingers threaded through his hair, loosening his ponytail when a hand gripped him tight. The bassist pulled Chris out and, staring up into his eyes, planted open-mouth kisses along his shaft, gently tugging on the ring. The ardor swirling in those stunning blue irises twisted his insides. Raw. Intense. Unfiltered. This man—this impressive man who he thought he’d never have—was here, relishing his touch as if it were the best thing.
Chris bit his bottom lip, and with his palm still firm on Marc’s head, he guided himself into his mouth again.
“Fuck! That’s it. Keep going… Yes, fuck—”
Either he was doing the job of his life or his friend was truly on the edge from before, or both. The way he was repressing those guttural growls and shivering told Marc he was almost done. But maybe, just maybe, there was a third possibility and he might have been unconsciously wanting for this.
As he kept working on Chris, Redhead snuggled up against them and started a heavy make-out session with him while caressing the bassist. Wet and lewd sounds swamped the air they were breathing. The heat encapsulating them was like thousands of flames lashing his body, burning and offering solace at the same time. It was such a contradiction of sensations Marc thought he would pass out before he got his friend to the finish line.
“Marc, I’m close.” Chris panted, fisting his hair.
He didn’t do or say anything else, so the bassist took it as his cue to keep going, to make him touch the sky. And so he did.
Revving up, he added more pressure, clenching his grip and lips tighter. Chris’s breath turned ragged as he thrust upward, his voice turning raspier and louder. Outsiders would just see a filthy scene as the atmosphere shifted from sensual into hectic, almost violent. They probably looked like rabid animals, but for Marc, this was a lot more. He was one step closer to happiness, whatever that was.
Chris fell backwards on the couch, both his hands on the bassist’s head, keeping him down as he thrust upward and grasped his release. He stiffened, shivering through an orgasm that ripped a roaring moan from his chest. It was so sexy, Marc’s entire body covered in goosebumps.
Letting him ride the wave of his climax, he pulled Chris out of his mouth, lapping every trace of cum from his cock before he lay down beside him, thumbing the corner of his own lips.
