The sheets bunched under his fists, his knees digging into the mattress, every nerve ending in his body on fire.
He was making noises he didn’t even recognize as his own, desperate little whines and gasps every time the guy’s tongue pressed in deeper or circled right over his rim.
Then the guy pulled away, and Tommy sucked in air like he’d been drowning.
He barely had time to process before he felt fingers at his hole, slick and thick and insistent.
The stranger didn’t ask, didn’t hesitate, just pushed in, stretching him wider than the others had even bothered to try.
Tommy’s breath stuttered, his whole body tensing. He was used to being fucked, sure, but this was different.
Slower.
More focused.
Like the man was taking inventory of everything he could make Tommy feel.
Logan was right there, holding him together, grounding him with every touch.
God, he loved that.
He could feel the stranger’s cock now, heavy and hot and pressed right against him, but not inside yet. Logan’s voice cut through his haze: “Condom.”
A soft rustle, the stretch of latex, and then the real test began.
The head of the man’s cock was massive. Tommy actually whimpered when it started to push in, his whole body fighting between wanting to open up and wanting to clench down and never let anything that size inside him ever again.
It hurt, in the way that made his toes curl and his brain go fuzzy. Not pain, exactly. Just… too much.
The air left Tommy’s lungs in a rush.
Every part of him felt full. No, not just full: obliterated. Stretched so tight that he could barely think, let alone say anything clever. His brain was just static, a white-noise rush of sensation, every jolt of the stranger’s hips sending sparks up his spine.
He clung to Logan’s forearms, digging his nails in, and Logan just held him tighter, rocking him gently with each thrust.
The rhythm wasn’t fast. It was slow, relentless, like the guy wanted to make sure Tommy remembered every single second. Each push in was a new lesson in how much he could take. Each pull out left him empty and desperate, like maybe if he begged the guy would go slower, or faster, or just never stop.
Instead, he just kept going. The stranger’s cock was thick enough to make Tommy’s eyes water if he wasn’t already too gone to care about dignity. Every thrust felt like it wasrearranging his insides, slow and deep, and somehow Logan’s hands on him made it worse and better at the same time. Like he could fall apart and someone would be there to catch every piece.
He tried to keep his breathing steady, but it just came out in these shaky little gasps.
The guy behind him was relentless, hips rolling with this obscene confidence, like he knew exactly how it felt for Tommy, how it would wreck him.
Every time the cock bottomed out, Tommy’s toes curled and his vision sparkled at the edges, brain going static white.
He wanted to say something, make a joke, anything to fill the air, but all that came out was a pathetic little sound, half-whine, half-moan.
Embarrassing.
The bed creaked under them. Logan’s arm was a band across his back, holding him up, fingers digging in just enough to leave marks. Tommy clung to it like a lifeline, nails biting into Logan’s skin for something real. The guy behind him must’ve liked a show, because he picked up the pace, not faster but harder, each thrust shoving Tommy forward into Logan’s grip.
He was drooling into the pillow now, face flushed, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead. He had no idea what he looked like, but if there was a mirror he probably would’ve wanted to crawl under the bed and never come out. Instead, he just arched his back and let the stranger use him, let Logan hold him together.
The weird thing was, the longer it went, the more he felt it building. Not the usual kind of build, either. This was different. It was like every nerve in his body was being wound tighter and tighter, all the tension pooling in his gut, making his thighs shake. The stranger’s cock filled him deeper then Logan, deeper then anyone before him. He opened a new space inside of Tommy that sent waves crashing crashing through him, madehis whole body light up, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
He was making noises now, desperate and filthy, like he didn’t care who heard. The guy behind him grunted in approval, big hands bruising his hips as he pounded in. Logan’s hand was at his neck again, thumb stroking his jaw, voice low in his ear: “You’re doing so good baby, I’m so proud of you.”
The pressure just kept building, and suddenly it was too much. His body seized up, thighs kicking at the sheets, and he felt it hit him all at once.
