You raised yourself up to your hands again and parted your lips, a willing receiver.
“Wait until I’ve set a rhythm,” I told Bruno. “He doesn’t like semen in his mouth, so pull out before you ejaculate.”
Bruno flicked his gaze at me and nodded before focusing on you again.
Your entire backside was already slick with oil, but I liked to get a little rough when penetrating you, so I greased myself as an added layer of protection. I aligned the tip of my erection with your puckered hole and tapped against it. Then I grabbed the end of the leather belt and plunged into you in one long, smooth stroke.
You gasped and let out a strangled little cry. You were still so deliciously tight, but you weren’t tensing up quite as much as you used to. You released a low, primal growl that reverberated in my balls as you bore down to receive me. With one hand guiding your hip and the other holding onto the leather strap, I rode you slow and steady at first, but picking up speed. The strap made for an excellent counterbalance, and when I shifted tempo, your body responded instantaneously. The muscles in your back quivered, and your buttocks flexed as I thrust. Once I’d set my pace, your head tilted back, and I assumed your mouth fell open because Bruno’s cock was then eagerly filling it. He caressed your cheek lovingly then glanced up at me as if he’d been caught.
“This is how you take care of him,” I said purposefully. You were too consumed by your animalistic side to notice the understanding that passed between us. I’d groomed Xavier as a companion, and I trained Bruno on how to satisfy you. I showed you how to pleasure yourself, Orlando. There was absolutely no reason for you to go seeking affection fromhim.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
For the moment, you appeared more beast than man, as your body undulated between my flesh pounding you from behind and Bruno feeding his cock into your wanton mouth. We worked in concert as your body pitched with increasing fervor. You seemed to enjoy being used like this, giving up your autonomy and letting the two of us dominate you. What a thrill it was for me to flaunt you, to possess you. Even to share you.
You were beautifully debauched, my lover, and the only thing that could have possibly made the scene more erotic for me was if you were bleeding from an open wound.
And then, as if a light had switched, it became a competition between Bruno and I to see who could sustain you. I smiled at this young buck’s unspoken challenge and slowed my strokes just enough to take the edge off. Meanwhile, Bruno didn’t seem to have the same discipline. He yanked his cock out of your mouth and gave it a few frantic jerks, then shot his seed all over your smooth brown back. You dropped your head, seemingly at the point of exhaustion, so I pulled you to me with the belt and gripped you against my chest so that you’d no longer have to hold yourself up. You had worked so hard and submitted so beautifully. I wanted you to feel taken care of, so I confined you to my arms, kissed your neck, and stimulated your nipples with my fingers.
“Henri, please,” you mewled. Your head fell back against my shoulder with a grunt as I drilled into you.
“Come for me, darling,” I whispered in your ear.
My hand was around your throat, applying the gentlest pressure, just enough to feel your throbbing pulse in the palm of my hand and see the strain on your reddened face. Only seconds later, you spilled your seed with a deep bellow that originated from somewhere deep within. After a few more rapid thrusts, my orgasm welled up inside of me and poured forth like an artesian well. I shuddered all the way to my core as my phallus pulsed with pleasure, still confined within your warm walls of flesh.
I licked your sweaty neck. My teeth grazed your jugular vein, and you trembled in anticipation. I wouldn’t bleed you that night. Your body was already at its limit. I hugged you tightly to me and whispered in your ear how much I loved and cherished you. You were mostly incoherent by then, so I gently laid you down and unstrapped the belt, then slowly withdrew myself from your warm, spent body. You curled into a ball and I covered you with a blanket.
“I’ll escort our guest out,” I said and kissed your forehead. Your eyes were already closing from exhaustion.
Bruno dressed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head and tell you he’d see you on Monday. He called you by his own pet name,Fofo,which translated toSoftiein Portuguese. A spark of envy flared up inside me because I considered those curls to be mine. And Monday wasn’t something I could promise you at all. Had I made a mistake in agreeing to share you with Bruno? Here was someone you could build a life with, make plans for the future, travel the world, while I could only promise youhereandnow.
I led Bruno through the living room, pausing to offer him a shot of whiskey. He downed it like a sailor and set the empty glass on the countertop.
“Thank you for letting me join you,” Bruno said. “It was…” he seemed to be struggling for the word, “incrível.”
My long memory had finely tuned my perception, and I felt a storm brewing on the horizon. I needed to know you’d be safe in my absence.
“You know our situation is precarious,” I told Bruno. “And if I were ever to have to leave Orlando, he would be devastated. He’ll need his friends to support him. And he might need other things too.”
Bruno placed a hand on my shoulder. “I would be there for him. And keep him sat-is-fied.”
He ended that pledge with a smug smirk and an obscene pump of his hips, so I placed my hand just as firmly on that cocksure youth’s shoulder. “To be clear, for as long as I am able, Orlando is mine.”
Bruno nodded and adopted a more serious tone. “He loves you, Henri. And what you have is special. I wouldn’t mess with that. He’s my best friend, and I want him to be happy, too.”
Our business settled, I walked him to the door. He still looked a bit smug as I bid him goodnight. “Sweet dreams, sweet dreams, sweet dreams,” I whispered, for I wanted Bruno to enjoy the night’s pleasure a little longer. He ambled off with a happy grin. The boy had a beautiful smile.
Back inside the condo, I made you tea with honey and lemon to soothe your throat and brought it to the bedroom.
“Did you enjoy the experience of being fucked by two men simultaneously?” I asked as you sipped your tea.
You almost choked. Your eyes widened, and your face flushed with embarrassment.
“Henri, you said ‘fuck.’” Your tone expressed mock horror at my coarse manners.
“Yes, I think I understand the difference now.” I stared at you, falling in love with you a little bit more, and waited for your answer. I’d been carefully cataloguing the sexual acts that brought you pleasure, and I’d happily add this one to our growing list.
“I liked it,” you said shyly, “but I couldn’t do that with a stranger.” You looked at me for some reassurance.
