“You saw that I said no to the branding and the whip stuff, right?” Dylan finally piped up, sounding worried.
Steve laughed. “I know, and that’s fine. You don’t have to push yourself. Everything we do is supposed to be fun for all of us. Isn’t that what Ryker says?”
“It is,” Dylan agreed.
“And he’s the boss, so that’s the rule,” Steve said. “We all have to have fun, or we’re not doing it.”
Dylan relaxed, leaning back against Steve’s chest and resting his cheek on the mound of his pec.
August rose up, standing next to the leg Steve still had propped up on the coffee table. He groped his bulge.
“Can I come on your back?” he asked, nudging Dylan as he asked the question.
“Sure,” Dylan said, turning his head to look back at him.
August freed his cock from his jeans and then proceeded to jerk himself off for about thirty seconds before he took a deep breath and released it, nostrils flaring, and sprayed his load all over Dylan’s back.
Dylan shuddered, letting out a happy moan when Steve reached around and started spreading the load into his skin, occasionally bringing his come-coated fingers over to Dylan’s mouth for him to lick them clean.
August squeezed the last of his load from the tip of his cock and then stepped over Steve’s leg so that he could move over and sit back down next to Ryker.
“Marking your territory?” Ryker teased, pulling him under his arm. His own cock was sticking out of his jeans, but he was holding off on jerking off in a way that would make him come. He wanted to savor the moment and keep himself on the edge for a bit longer.
“A little,” August agreed.
“I’m all sticky,” Dylan commented, not sounding at all unhappy with that state of affairs. “And I smell like come.”
“You do,” Steve agreed, holding up his palm for Dylan to lick it clean. “You’re a little come puppy.”
Ryker swallowed, deciding that he wanted to come, and that he wanted a show while doing so.
“Dylan,” Ryker said, getting Dylan’s attention.
“Yes?” Dylan’s face was a mess, but his eyes were bright and he looked happy. “What is it?”
“You made a mess,” Ryker reminded him, nodding down at Steve’s boot. “Lick it clean.”
Dylan shuddered, the commanding rumble of Ryker’s voice obviously doing it for him, and pushed himself off Steve’s lap and to the floor. He went to his hands and knees between Steve’s feet, and with a glance up through his lashes, started licking the leather of Steve’s boot and lapping up his meager load.
Ryker pulled his lips back from his teeth, sucking in a long breath, and jerked himself off with furious movements.
He was completely unprepared for August to suddenly lean down and take the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking him off with expert flicks of his tongue while squeezing down on his burgeoning knot just right.
Ryker’s orgasm hit him like a punch to the gut, his hot load spilling into August’s mouth and flooding his tongue with come. He grabbed August by the hair, quickly releasing his grip when August let out a warning growl and let his teeth graze the sensitive glans of his cockhead.
“Sorry,” Ryker said, laughing as he held his hands fisted by his sides and let August have control over his orgasm.
Dylan sat back on his knees, finished licking up his load, and watched August suck Ryker’s cock. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was having a religious experience.
When August finally pulled off Ryker’s cock, he noticed Dylan looking at him. He grinned, mouth full of come, and leaned over to spit all over Steve’s boot.
“There’s some more for you,” August said, grinning wide and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Get to cleaning.”
“You don’t have to,” Ryker reminded him, remembering Dylan’s dislike of spit. He wasn’t sure if that applied here as well, but he didn’t want Dylan to do something he didn’t like.
He needn’t have worried. Dylan leaned down and attacked Steve’s boot with far more relish than when he’d been licking up his own load, swiping his tongue over the leather and drinking down the streaks of come with greedy appreciation.
When he finally finished, he turned around and slumped against Steve’s leg, resting his head on his thigh and closing his eyes with a happy little grin on his face.
