Braided

by Michael, Sean

  And he was enjoying himself immensely, drama and all.

  ***

  They were curled up together on the sofa, his head in Paul's lap, fingers on Bowie's belly.

  Peter felt well-fucked and well-fed and warm and happy and never moving again.

  Ever.

  Paul petted his head, periodically tickling him and making him squirm.

  "By the way, I like the decorations," Bowie murmured. "It suits you both much better than the black and white."

  Paul chuckled. "You like the short look? I was going for elvish, sort of."

  "I like the shiny. Especially the way it accents certain body parts."

  Paul spread and wiggled, jostling him and he turned his head and nipped Paul's leg. That got him a sharp pop on his butt, Paul retaliating immediately.

  Bowie growled softly. "Settle down, boys."

  "Yeah, be good, Peter, or Bowie will have to beat you."

  That made him giggle. So far, the beatings had been completely confined to Paul's butt.

  Bowie chuckled, hand sliding down to his ass, squeezing gently. "I couldn't beat Peter, he's already pink."

  He grinned and wiggled a little as Paul chuckled. "Yes. I like him pink. He always looks freshly fucked."

  "P...p...p...paul!" Did he?

  Bowie laughed outright at that, squeezing his ass again, fingers lingering along his crack. "I would have said he looks more like an invitation to fuck."

  He squeaked, thighs parting a bit. Oh, the things Bowie said.

  "Mmm... he likes that."

  "I noticed. Would you like me to fuck you again, Peter?" Bowie had that low, sexy tone in his voice, the one that could melt muscles like butter.

  He shivered and moaned, hips raising just a little, body wanting, begging for the touch.

  "See, Petey? You are a slut."

  Bowie purred. "There's nothing wrong with that."

  Oh.

  His hand caressed Bowie in thanks, cheek nuzzling Paul, body undulating. Oh, heavens, he felt so sexy. So fine.

  Bowie petted him, hands stroking bundles of nerves to life in his back and ass.

  "Oh..." He turned his head, lips sliding along Paul's cock, wanting them all to feel as good as he did.

  "Peter..." A hand tangled in his hair, Paul's cry sweet.

  "Do you boys want to play or just make love?" Bowie asked them, fingers teasing his crack.

  "We can make love anytime, Bowie, but tomorrow we're all off work. Together. For the first time." Paul sounded... not whiney, but needy. Really needy.

  "Then I have a few ideas I want to try out. Especially with the lovely decorations you've chosen." Bowie patted his ass. "Meet me in my rooms in... ten minutes."

  Bowie got up and headed for the door, turning back before he got to it. "No coming before you get there."

  They giggled, Peter pushing up into Paul's arms and snuggling close. "Like we'd do that..." Paul said.

  "Yes, you would. Ten minutes, no coming and if you have you'll both be hog-tied for the entire two days and not allowed to come until we have another pair of days off together."

  Bowie gave them a stern look and left.

  Peter rested his head on Paul's shoulder. "L...l...love you."

  Paulie nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about earlier, yeah? You scared me. I thought you'd be hurt."

  He nodded, snuggled closer. "Wh...wh...what do you th...th...think about him?"

  "Bowie? He's something special. Something else. I don't know, Petey. If we learn to need him and he leaves? That would so suck, but he doesn't sound like he wants to leave, does he?" A soft kiss fell on his head. "Let's just wing it for now, yeah?"

  He nodded. He wasn't sure he could just leave it, though. He thought maybe he was beyond just leaving it.

  After nine minutes where they were both incredibly good and even sort of relaxed and cuddly, Paul helped him up and they padded over to Bowie's door and knocked.

  The door opened immediately, Bowie looking very pleased with them.

  The rooms were plain, austere even. All done in whites and creams and light tans. There was a minimum of furniture and the room Bowie led them into was done entirely in white, from the walls to the carpet on the floor to the bed and its linens.

  It was quiet but for the soft sounds of a waterfall, and it took him a moment to realize it had to be piped in.

  He looked around, eyes wide. Nothing so stark should be so pretty.

  "Oh, Bowie. Wow." Paul cuddled up behind him, arms wrapping around his belly.

  "Plain and simple have a beauty of their own, do they not?" Bowie grinned at them. "And I thought the white would show the two of you up quite beautifully. Your colors will just shine. On the bed please."

  Bowie picked up a bunch of white rope from the bed.

  "How do you want us?" Paul crawled up first, holding those familiar arms open for him.

  "Kneeling. Facing each other. You can make each other hard for me while I bind your ankles."

  Paul scooted up and he crawled up next to his twin, lifting his face for a kiss. Paul gave it eagerly, hands pushing into his hair.

  "I need your cocks fully hard by the time I'm done with your ankles," Bowie warned gently, doing his ankles first, looping the rope around them twice before tying it. It wasn't tight, but he knew it was there, could feel it.

  Paul groaned into his lips, hips rubbing against his belly and he reached down and pumped Paul's cock. He wasn't sure why his cock had to be hard for his ankles to be tied, but Paul seemed enthusiastic enough.

  Once his ankles were tied, Bowie moved on to tie Paul's.

  Their cocks were next.

  Bowie took his in hand, stroking firmly to make sure he was quite hard. Then his cock was bound with the white rope, his balls snugged up tight against his cock.

  "Oh..." His eyes flew open and Paul grinned.

  "Does it feel good, Petey? Tight?"

  "It should be tight enough, but it shouldn't hurt. And you'll find out how it feels soon enough, Paul." Bowie gave him a soft kiss, thumb stroking the tip of his cock and then moved to bind Paul.

  He could feel his cock, so hard, so stiff in the rope. Gods, it felt good. Different, but good.

  "Hands above your heads," murmured Bowie, an intent look in his eyes. "Paul you take Peter's right hand in your left, Peter you take Paul's right in your left."

  He reached up, their fingers twining, his arms stretching farther to meet the length of Paul's.

  Bowie purred, the sound low. "Oh, my Pretties." The hand that slid from his wrist on down to his waist was trembling slightly.

  Paul's face looked... blissful, eyes almost glowing, a soft happy moan filling the air.

  "Exquisite," said Bowie and then got to work with his rope again. This time it was looped around his chest and tied so that his nipples were under the rope. Paul was given the same treatment.

  He shivered hard, nipples squeezed between rope and ring, eyes flying up to Paul's for comfort.

  "You're okay, Petey."

  Bowie's hands slid along his back, rubbing his shoulders and squeezing his buttocks. "Yes, you're doing just fine, Peter. I'm going to finish up with your arms and then take vids so the two of you can see how amazing you look together."

  He blinked and blushed, leaning to rest his forehead against Paul's jaw.

  Bowie placed a kiss on his spine and then bound their arms together. Bowie wrapped the rope around their arms so that it seemed to spiral up one side and down the other.

  He squeezed Paul's fingers, the sensation of being so bound unusual, arousing, unsettling. Paul, though, Paul was relaxed, face easy.

  Bowie's hands touched him all over, sliding over his body and waking every nerve not already awake. "There we are. Perfect."

  Climbing off the bed, Bowie began to vid them, walking slowly around the bed to get them from every angle.

  He closed his eyes, leaning against Paul, listening to Paul's heartbeat, the sweet, soft noises. He felt so close to his twin -- closer than when
they made love.

  "Absolutely beautiful. You'll see when I show you the vids."

  Every now and then Bowie would touch them, a slide of fingers or a kiss.

  Paul rubbed his temple, humming softly, slow tremors starting to rock their shoulders.

  "Start kissing," murmured Bowie.

  Paul nudged his face up, mouth covering his immediately, tongue sliding in, all heat and pleasure and sweet need.

  "That's it, lovelies. Let your passion out. Give each other what you need."

  Paul pushed a long, low sound into his mouth, eyes so close, so big.

  Oh.

  Oh, Paul. Love.

  He whimpered, bowing under Paul's need.

  "Rub together if you need to." Bowie's voice was husky, needy.

  His arms pressed backward, as Paul moved, making him gasp, push back to keep his balance.

  "That's it. Show me. Show me how much you need. How much you want."

  He growled softly, pushing toward Paul, his own passion sharpening as he struggled not to fall.

  "Yes." Bowie's hands slid over him, tugging the rope across his nipples. He cried out, body rippling, tongue pushing hard into Paul's mouth. Bowie continued to touch them, urging them on.

  It was a struggle, but it wasn't, at the same time. Paul's fingers were twined with his, those eyes watching him, loving him. Their bodies though -- they pushed and rubbed, needy sounds filling the air.

  Bowie's breath slid over his skin, occasionally a hot tongue following. Then Bowie's strong fingers were on his prick, freeing it.

  "You may both come when you need to."

  Paul bit his lip. "Please, Petey. Come on me. Wanna feel you."

  He cried out, rubbing hard, ropes tugging his nipples and sending him over the edge, spunk spraying up along Paul's belly.

  "Perfect," whispered Bowie. "Now you, Paul."

  "Oh... oh, yes." Paul pushed hard, cock sliding against him, heat splashing.

  "Yes. Yes." Bowie's voice was so hoarse and then Bowie cried out, more heat splashing against his side.

  They swayed, leaned toward Bowie, bodies shivering and trembling with aftershocks.

  "Mmm... oh, my Pretties. So good. Such good boys."

  The ropes came quickly undone and they were lowered into Bowie's lap, those big hands working their muscles, rubbing their arms first, his and Paul's.

  He whimpered, Bowie's hands making his tired muscles melt, his fingers tingle. No part of him was left untouched, the massage deep, soft purrs coming from Bowie as he worked. Paul lay still beside him, boneless, so still. He'd never seen Paul so still.

  "B...b...bowie?"

  "Yes, beautiful?"

  "I...is Paul o...okay? H...he's s...so still, so qu...quiet."

  "Yes, Peter, he's fine. In fact, he's wonderful. At peace. What about you? How do you feel?"

  "M...m...melted. W...w...warm. A l....l...little sc...sc...scared." Bowie made him -- made them -- feel so much.

  Bowie held him close, kissing his forehead. "Give me your fear, Peter. Let me have everything but the good."

  He cuddled in, whispering low. "Y...you make us feel a...a...and w...w...we're... I...I...I... I'm scared. I'm sc...sc...scared you'll st...st...stop liking us. Leave us and we'll n...n...need you."

  Bowie nodded. "Needing others is the most scary thing in the world, isn't it?" Bowie tilted his head to look up into the green eyes. "I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you and Paul. It scares me, too, Peter. If you decide to leave me, you will still have each other. I will be alone. And yet... I cannot imagine not taking the chance and being with you."

  His eyes filled with tears. Oh, he loved this man. He did. No matter what Paul said. "I...I... have s...s...secrets. It w...w...was bad before Pauly. Y...you should know that."

  "I know, Peter. Oh, not the details, but I can tell that you have been hurt and know that Paul would never have been the one to hurt you so in your soul." Bowie kissed him. "One day, Peter, you will find the strength to tell me and together the three of us will banish your demons forever."

  He met those pretty eyes, hands tracing Bowie's face. "I b...b...believe in you."

  "And I believe in you, Pet." Bowie smiled down at him. "I imagine we'll manage between us."

  He nodded, leaning in for a soft kiss, letting Bowie's strength hold him.

  "Sleep now, Peter. You are safe and home in the arms of those who love you."

  He cupped Bowie's cheek, curling between them, fingers tangled in Bowie's braid, eyes falling closed. "Love you, Bowie. Pauly."

  Bowie's lips pressed against his forehead and a warm comforter was placed over them all. A soft command from Bowie dimmed the lights.

  He fell asleep before he realized it, warm and safe and home.

  ***

  Bowie woke slowly, warm, wrapped around Peter with his hand on Paul's hip. He could feel the calm aura of the room, the crisp white lines of everything leaving a smooth, almost icy touch.

  It was good.

  He was going to have to do something about the bedroom in the twins' apartment, make it more... user friendly. In the meantime, he and Peter both had something Paul could take care of for them. He'd break Paul of his need for constant and immediate satisfaction yet.

  "Wake up, my Pretties," he murmured, sliding his hand along Paul's spine and dropping a kiss on Peter's neck.

  They both stretched in concert, Paul turning to pet Peter's cheek, stroke the pink hair.

  So pretty, so sensual.

  He was a very lucky man.

  "I need, Paul. So does Peter. Wake up."

  Peter shifted, started licking his way down Paul's belly, Paul reaching to draw him into a kiss. "Good morning, Bowie."

  He chuckled, grabbing Peter beneath his armpits and pulling him back up. "Not this morning."

  Peter blinked awake, gave him a warm smile. "Y...you first?"

  Paul nuzzled Peter's shoulder, humming. "You smell good, Petey."

  "No, my Pretty, you're first."

  Smiling he stroked Peter's cheek and then Paul's. "Take your time, Paul, we want to savor this."

  Paul nibbled on his fingers, playing with the tips with the metal stud. "Haven't been up long enough to earn Petey's mouth, have I?"

  Oh, Paul was leaning. Excellent.

  "Quite right, Paul, but maybe once Peter and I have had our pleasure..."

  Paul's eyes were twinkling and happy, playful. "Maybe just this once."

  "Brat," he accused fondly. "Now make your brother fly."

  "Mmm..." Paul kissed Peter's lips. "If I tell you not to come, Petey?"

  Peter shook his head. "N...not for you. B...bowie's c...c...c...call."

  "Oh, you've deserted me for another..." Paul slid downward, teasing and touching as Peter shook his head again.

  He reached down and popped Paul in the head. "Behave."

  Paul's eyes danced up at him, winked. "Yes, sir."

  He shook his head. A half step forward and a full step back again. Still, Paul was beginning to think about what he did. Bowie slid his hands over Peter, fingers finding the pierced nipples and teasing them.

  Peter stretched out, body shifting against him, nipples drawing tight as if they were trying to escape his touch. He leaned in and licked at Peter's neck, finding the spot that made Peter squirm the most and then began to work up a mark there.

  "Oh. Oh. Oh." He loved the little breathless cries, the eager way Peter pushed the pretty ass against him, rubbing his cock.

  Purring, he kept one hand at Peter's nipples, teasing and playing, while the other stroked the sweet belly. All the while he watched Paul.

  Paul was teasing and playing, fingers drawing circles around the shaved skin over Peter's cock, tongue nudging the heavy ring in the tip. His own cock throbbed and he rubbed back against Peter. They were very sexy together. Very.

  Peter spread his legs, offering that sweet, tight hole to him.

  Oh, yes, very sexy.

  He reached back under the mattress. Finding
the lube, he slicked his cock up and then slid two fingers into Peter's body. "No more teasing, Paul."

  "Spoilsport."

  Then he heard Peter's sharp cry, felt the ring of muscles grip his fingers. He thought maybe he would need to gag Paul again soon. But not just yet. He spread Peter wide with his fingers, searching for the small bump that would increase Peter's pleasure. Peter shuddered, hips bucking as he found it, pushing deep into Paul's lips.