“Mmmm,” Tatum rumbled, stroking himself inside his shorts. Allen desperately wanted to see it, wanted to see the big man handle himself. That he couldn’t just made him want it that much more. He bit back a curse.
Sidri, the temptress, did something to make herself gasp, her fingers also hidden behind the soaking wet fabric of her panties. She bit her lip, hips jerking a little.
“Tatum would slowly, slowly, reach down and lower your zipper,” she told Allen, her voice heavy with arousal. “He’d lean you forward enough so you could brace your hands on the desk, just at the edge, and order you to leave them there, no matter what.”
“Jesus Christ,” Allen whispered hoarsely. His cock was achingly hard, the straps biting into his balls.
“He’d lower your pants,” Sidri continued breathily as Tatum began stroking himself harder, faster. “Just enough to give him access to that sweet ass, but not enough so anyone walking by would see they’d been lowered. You’d be panting by then, biting your tongue to keep from moaning, from giving yourselves away.
“Tatum always has packets of lube in his pockets,” she informed him with a devilish smile. Allen sucked in a sharp breath. “He’d take one out, rip it open with his teeth while keeping you still. Then he’d work it into you, keeping his movements slow, easy, while you shook with the effort of trying to hold still against the thrill of having his big, thick fingers sinking deeper and deeper inside you.
“When he’d worked you enough, stretched you enough to take that gorgeous cock of his, he’d bend you over the desk, make you reach for the other side of it and hold on tight. Now anyone passing by would see him bending you over the desk, preparing to fuck you. You’d be trembling, inside and out, wondering if anyone would look inside your office and see you offering yourself to Tatum. But it wouldn’t matter by then, you’d be so ready for him, so ready for his cock to slide into you.”
Tatum let out a breathy groan, stroking himself with hard, fast pulls. Allen licked his lips, over and over, eyes darting back and forth between his lovers as they pleasured themselves in front of him while still hiding everything from his sight. The toy in his ass felt huge, his inner muscles squeezing incessantly, wishing it were Tatum inside him.
“Tatum would cover you from behind, his big body blocking most of the view for anyone lucky enough to walk by, but not enough to hide the fact that he was fucking your ass. You’d be holding onto that desk, your knuckles white, begging him to do it, to shove that huge cock inside you and fuck you. But he’d just push his way inside, so gentle and so slow, making you take him to the hilt. You’d be moaning, begging him to fuck you, just fuck you, hard and fast.”
“Fuck,” Tatum strangled out, his thighs quivering. Sidri echoed the statement, her eyes closed and fingers working madly against her clit.
“When he started to ride you,” Sidri whispered, “he’d start out so gentle, so easy, making you feel every inch of him, rubbing your sweet spot over and over. No matter how much you begged, no matter how much you pleaded with him, he’d keep up that gentle ride, taking his time, making it last. You’d be frantic, begging for it, over and over, louder and louder, until Tatum finally couldn’t stand it anymore.”
Her eyes popped open, pinned Allen in place as she gasped out each phrase. “He’d fuck you. Own you. His thrusts so hard you’d need that big, strong desk—otherwise, he’d pound you right through the floor. You’d be yelling by then, not caring who happened to hear, because Tatum would be inside you, his glorious cock so big and so thick, so deep you’ll never be able to get him out.”
Allen cursed, hands shaking against his lower back, his body milking that toy like it wanted to milk Tatum’s cock.
“And just when you’d think Tatum would let you come”—she purred sensuously—“just when you’d think your cum would spray all over that desk, I would walk into the room, throwing the door wide open.”
“Sex incarnate,” Tatum groaned. He reached over to Sidri, his big hands wrapping around her waist and lifting her bodily in one swift motion. He settled her across his lap, facing Allen, with her skirt spread out over both their legs. Allen couldn’t see anything now, not Sidri playing with herself, not Tatum stroking his cock, and he wanted to weep with frustration. Then Sidri jerked, a sexy groan pouring from her lips as Tatum’s forearm cinched around her waist.
Holy fuck, Tatum was fucking her. Allen watched, mesmerized, as Sidri threw back her head, eyes shut tight, face glowing with ecstasy. Tatum’s heels dug into the mattress as he thrust upward, but everything was hidden from Allen’s sight by that goddamned skirt. All he could see was Sidri’s body shaking, those gorgeous tits jiggling, every time Tatum entered her sheath.
“As soon as I join you,” Sidri panted, licking her lips as she clamped both hands around Tatum’s arm to brace herself while he fucked her from below, “Tatum would lift you up…turn you both around…and lay down on that big, strong desk. His cock would be buried…balls deep in your ass…so when he made you lie on top of him…he’d still be inside you.”
She paused for a breathy moan as Tatum held her down, grinding her against his pelvis. Allen was shaking uncontrollably, panting, as if he were the one being fucked.
“With you on your back on top of Tatum, your cock would be free,” she told him. “I’d climb on the desk, straddle you. No panties under my skirt. Take you inside, use my weight to drive you downward on Tatum’s cock.”
Allen was about to explode, his body heaving, sweat glistening on his hairless chest. Watching them fuck, still fully clothed so he couldn’t actually see anything, was so erotic it made his head spin. Combined with the fantasy Sidri spun so skillfully, hearing her talk dirty in that breathy, raspy feminine lilt…fire leapt through his veins with every breath he took.
And yet he couldn’t come, not with the harness still wrapped around his aching balls. All he had to do was reach down and remove it—there was nothing holding him back, nothing stopping him but himself. Yet the tiny, rational part of his mind that wasn’t swept away by the miasma of lust swirling through the room told him that if he did, if he removed the harness without permission, if he refused to take the punishment his lovers chose to give him, he would lose them both instantly.
“Please,” Allen moaned. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Didn’t even care. “Please. Please. Please.”
Sidri lifted off of Tatum’s cock, and both of them moved to the side of the bed.
“Move back to the middle of the bed,” Tatum said huskily. “Lie on your stomach, arms crossed under the pillow. You will not move, will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not take your eyes off the headboard. Do it now.”
He did it, shaking like a new foal, collapsing with a moan as his fettered cock jammed against the comforter. With the harness in place, he couldn’t even rub himself against the sheets, couldn’t find any relief. The toy in his ass felt huge, his body pulsing around it. The damn bees from last week were back under his skin, buzzing so loudly his whole body shook with the vibration. He lay there, panting, and waited.
Sidri nudged his knees farther apart, wide enough so she could settle her body between them. She lay across his ass, making him yell as the butt plug was jostled with the motion. He was tempted to look over his shoulder, figure out what the hell she was doing, but Tatum’s command rang like a bell inside his skull. He fisted the comforter and moaned.
They were doing something behind him. Without being able to see them, he couldn’t tell what. But Sidri’s weight shifted every few seconds, rocking his hips against the bed. He felt the brush of Tatum’s knuckles against his thighs, but they were incidental touches, not like the caresses he normally did when they made love. Allen frowned, then gasped as he was shoved deeper into the mattress, Sidri draped across him as if he were a piece of furniture. They were making sounds now, little moans and sighs, almost as if…
Allen froze, shock and pure unadulterated lust shooting through every corner of his being. They were fucking each ot
her. On top of him. Using him as their bed.
He could feel it now, feel Tatum’s hips thrusting, feel Sidri’s body shake against his back with the force of each impact. His mouth dropped open, his muscles going rigid. Tatum’s big hands used Allen’s back for a brace. Sidri used Allen’s thighs as a prop to hold herself open while Tatum fucked her. Every hard punch of Tatum’s hips jostled Sidri against the plug in Allen’s ass, making him writhe uncontrollably. But it was obvious the motion was incidental, not something they were trying to do to him.
It was the worst sort of torture he could ever have imagined.
Sidri’s weight lifted from him, and she nudged his knees together impatiently. He felt them both straddle his legs as Sidri’s hands planted in the center of his back. She cried out suddenly, fingers digging into Allen’s skin as her body rocked forward.
Tatum was fucking her from behind.
Allen panted helplessly, cock and balls so achingly ready to blow, both screaming at him while Sidri held him down, held him pinned. He could feel Tatum’s body rocking, the big man’s knees braced on either side of Allen’s thighs, Sidri’s calves on either side of his hips. Tatum pounded into her, forcing her body sharply forward with every thrust.
Allen couldn’t see it, but he could feel every movement. When he pictured it in his mind—Allen on his stomach, Sidri being fucked doggy style over his back, Tatum’s big body hovering over both of them—it made Allen insane with the desperate desire to see it for himself. He started writhing against the comforter, hips gyrating uncontrollably, mimicking Sidri’s forward motions. She braced one hand on his ass, the impact of Tatum’s thrusts rocketing through her body, and the kinetic motion drove the butt plug deeper and deeper.
They really were going to kill him.
Finally, after an eternity, Tatum snarled something unintelligible and slammed into Sidri so hard the whole bed shook. She let loose a long, low moan of ecstasy, her nails biting into Allen’s back hard enough to break the skin. He shouted with them, so far gone he was no longer sure who was being fucked by who. All he knew was he needed to come, desperately needed to come. If he didn’t get to come soon, his body would explode…
Sidri lifted away from him. Tatum crashed to the bed on Allen’s right, as she fell to his left side. Tatum used his innate strength to flip Allen over, causing him to cry out incoherently when the toy in his ass made contact with the bed. When he was on his back, Sidri took hold of his chin and forced him to look at her.
“Do you forgive yourself?” she whispered hoarsely. “Do you accept that you did what you had to do to survive, that you did what you had to do to get through that time in your life so you could be here today, with us? Do you accept your punishment for your sins?”
Allen was sobbing, not even sure when he’d started crying, only that there were so many emotions running through him he didn’t know where they ended and he began. He swallowed, panting, and nodded.
Tatum grabbed his chin and forced him to look the other way, his blue eyes ice-cold. “Do you accept that we love you, sins and all, that we cherish your courage and your willingness to do what it takes to survive? Do you believe you deserve to be with us, to let us love you, body, mind, heart, and soul, until the day we all leave this earth?”
Allen let out a pained gurgle, his chest about to burst, muscles rigid. “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Do you accept your punishment for the sin of doubting yourself?” Sidri asked, making him look at her again. “Do you accept that the only sin you’ve committed is doubting we could love you, no matter what you may think you’ve done wrong?”
“Please,” Allen sobbed. His body was on fire, lava pouring through his system.
“Answer her,” Tatum snarled. He wrapped one big hand around Allen’s cock, over the harness, and squeezed.
“I accept it!” Allen nearly screamed, his breath knotting in his throat. “I accept it! God, please, I love you so much, please, please, please…”
And with that final, broken plea, they saved him from going up in flames right there between them. Tatum ripped the cock harness off him with a single practiced move, making Allen’s hips bow off the bed. Sidri reached under him, slid the butt plug out of his quivering hole in one smooth motion. And then, together, they looked him in the eye and said, “Come. Now.”
The orgasm that blew through his body was so intense, so magnificent, his mind completely shut down. Wave after wave of shattering bliss radiated through him, touching every molecule of his being. He screamed, tears streaking down his face, so overwhelmed he lost a significant chunk of time. And when he finally came back down from the stratosphere, his lovers were holding him, soothing him, praising him with so many words of love he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Please, both of you, I can’t…” He trailed off with a moan.
“What do you want, Allen?” Sidri whispered. “Tell us what you need.”
“You,” he panted brokenly. “Both of you.”
She raised a delicate eyebrow. “Do you understand the nature of your sins, Allen? Do you know what you’ve done wrong?”
He shuddered, violently. “I…I…”
“You doubted yourself,” Tatum growled harshly. “You doubted your courage.”
“You survived when others would have fallen, Allen. Did what you had to do to live another day. You had the courage to survive everything life chose to throw at you, and you lived through horrors no man should ever endure. Yet you still believe you failed, still believe you shamed yourself. That transgression is unforgivable.”
Allen closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I didn’t…”
“You did,” Tatum refuted instantly.
Allen shook his head, threaded his fingers through Tatum’s at his waist. He gathered Sidri’s hand to his chest, kissing her knuckles briefly, and held onto both of them like the lifelines they were. “No, I mean, yes, I know you’re right. But I didn’t think about it like that. The way my father preached…I always thought it was God’s way of punishing me.” He paused, swallowed hard. “For running away. For doubting Him.”
Both of his lovers went absolutely still. Then Sidri whispered, “Will you tell us about your father? About why you ran away?”
Allen took a deep breath then looked her in the eye. “You asked me, the day we met, if I lived off the grid on purpose.” Sidri gifted him a soft smile, obviously remembering. He gulped then plowed onward. “The answer is yes. The reason you couldn’t find me is because Allen Heras isn’t my real name. I started using it when I ran away. My real name is Alexander Romano-Herrera Whitman.”
“Whitman?” Tatum asked sharply. “You don’t mean…”
Allen closed his eyes. “Yeah. My father is Robert Whitman, Houston’s richest and most powerful televangelist.”
Chapter 20
Sidri exchanged shocked looks with Tatum. Christ on a pogo stick, that explained everything. Robert Whitman was the biggest, loudest, most obnoxious opponent to gay rights in the United States. He was the religious world’s equivalent of Rush Limbaugh, using his Sunday morning TV show to rally his right-wing conservative supporters and denounce anything and everything to do with same-sex marriage, employment equality, and equal-rights movements across the country.
According to his dogma, gay people were the embodiment of evil, demons walking the earth in open defiance of the Lord. If he had his way, they’d all be burned at the stake like witches of old.
No wonder Allen hated himself so much.
“But Whitman’s a white boy,” Tatum said incredulously.
Allen burst out laughing. “Pot, meet kettle.”
Tatum growled, leaning forward to nip Allen’s shoulder affectionately. “Smart ass. You know what I mean. His wife is white, too…” He trailed off, glancing at Sidri with a look that wondered if he’d gone too far.
Allen shrugged, just a tiny hitch in his shoulders, and looked away from both of them. “I was adopted. At least, that’s what I was told growin
g up.”
Tatum opened his mouth, confusion clouding his expression, but Sidri quelled him with a look. She rubbed her knuckles against Allen’s chest where he had her hand trapped against him. “We’re here for you, baby. Whatever you choose to share with us, we’ll listen.”
Allen was quiet for a time. Then he closed his eyes briefly and turned his attention to the ceiling, his voice falling into an expressionless monotone.
“I was told I was adopted when I was less than a year old. That my father, who had done several missionary expeditions to Columbia, had met a young couple there who had just had a baby and were afraid to keep him. To keep me. Because of the drug wars, all the fighting, he said. He told his family that he had agreed to smuggle me out of the country, take me home, and raise me as his own. He had three natural-born children already, and adopting me—a Columbian native—made him look as if he accepted racial equality. It raised his stock in the religious world, made him more acceptable to Houston’s vast Hispanic population. I was his biggest prize—until I ran away, of course. Then I turned into a different kind of political tool.”
“I remember this,” Sidri said, exchanging frowns with Tatum. “We just didn’t put it together. I remember hearing it on the news, how Whitman and his family were frantically searching for their missing adopted son, who had been kidnapped and probably taken back to Columbia. There were tons of tearful interviews, and tons of political debates about Columbia and our ties to them after all that went down. Thirteen years ago, I believe.”
Demons Within [For Love of Authority] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 22
