by Clare London
Jerry whimpered.
And then the music ceased, and Vincent relaxed.
***
Oliver slid into the water beside Jerry, a hand at his shoulder, as if he knew that Jerry needed support.
“You are magnificent, Vincent!” Connor said. His eyes were bright like an animal’s in the half light. “You are spectacular.”
Vincent’s breathing was slowing down, but his eyes never left Jerry’s. They were greedy, seeking satisfaction.
“Show him, Vincent.” Oliver’s voice was mischievous. “Show Jerry what he needs.”
“Jerry must ask for him,” Connor said. He lifted a hand from the water and gestured toward Oliver. The young man took Jerry’s left arm. He rubbed his groin softly against Jerry’s slim thigh, reaching a teasing hand to Jerry’s lap. The water splashed, hiding Jerry’s groin, but Scot knew what was there. Of course he did. And it looked like Oliver did too.
“Ask, Jerry,” Connor urged.
Scot watched, cruelly fascinated. His lover was being seduced. He couldn’t bear to turn away from its thrill.
Vincent bent and helped Jerry climb out of the pool. Oliver followed quickly with an easy leap out, until the three of them stood together by the pool wall. Vincent’s sweat-soaked face was only inches in front of Jerry’s. Behind Jerry, Oliver slid seductive hands around Jerry’s hips, and trailed his fingertips over Jerry’s rising erection. Jerry must have been embarrassed having a strange young man fondle him. Fluffing him! And another two virtual strangers watching it happen. Scot knew how private Jerry could be.
Used to be.
But Jerry stared at Vincent without any protest, without any hesitation. His whole body broadcast how much he ached for this attention.
“Do you want him in you, Jerry?” Connor’s voice was just a purr in the humid air.
=To take you? To fuck you?=
“You’ve never had that before. You’ve never felt that before. There’s so much more to experience.”
Scot watched Oliver’s hands run along Jerry’s cock. Jerry watched, too, his dick jutting out in front of him, painfully aroused by Oliver’s small hands stroking him. Oliver teased, but his hands were sure. He whispered sweet, encouraging noises of his own with every caress.
Connor’s voice was persistent. “Or do you want to take him yourself?”
“Or both?” Oliver sighed. His hand suddenly tightened on Jerry’s balls.
Jerry jumped with shock, his eyes wide. His nerves must have been strung very tightly, and his desire shone like a beacon in his gaze. He lifted a hand toward Vincent.
“Take me,” he said. He spoke quietly in the night air, but his words were very clear.
Vincent smiled, and no one could have mistaken the flash of lust in his eyes. It was apparently all he needed—the request from Jerry himself. Perhaps, Scot thought, it had to be that way.
Vincent put his hands on Jerry’s shoulders and dipped his mouth to Jerry’s trembling lips. “This will happen, Jerry. You want it. You’ve wanted it for a long time now. You’ve waited so patiently, and now you don’t need to wait any more. You need it.”
“Yes,” Jerry whispered. “Please, Vincent. I don’t want to wait any more.”
Vincent placed his large hand at the back of Jerry’s neck with astonishing gentleness, the long, broad fingers stroking below Jerry’s ear at the point of his pulse. Jerry stared at Vincent’s mouth, his cock raised high, throbbing and swollen to a blood-red peak. The muscles in his thighs were tight with anticipation.
“It’ll be so good,” Vincent murmured. “I can make you feel like no-one else can. But you know that, don’t you? It was always me—always me, whom you waited for.”
And now it’s happening! Scot shivered, and the sensations swept through him as they had done through the motel kitchen wall. He was in Jerry’s head, in his body! He could feel the desperation in his heart and the tremulous passion coursing through his veins. Scot swung his head to look at Connor, but Connor was fixated on the other three men and their tableau. He’d shifted on his seat, a few more inches away from Scot. Scot’s gaze returned to the courtyard.
Vincent’s hands cradled Jerry’s face—such strong, generous hands—and Vincent’s tongue swept through his mouth, sucking at the swollen lips, probing deep inside, tasting the sweet passion and the sour need.
Scot felt it all. He was hard—instantly, painfully.
“I want to suck you!” Jerry gasped. He looked mesmerized by Vincent.
Vincent laughed quietly. He glanced over at Connor as if for sanction, but he obviously received it, for he turned back to Jerry with a slow, hungry smile. “Do it, dark one,” he sighed. He pushed firmly at Jerry’s shoulders, forcing him down on to his knees, naked on the dusty floor. Oliver slipped to Vincent’s side, his fingers trailing now over Vincent’s dark skin, still glistening with drops of water.
Jerry had a good view of Vincent’s cock: it was large and it was long. Scot felt Jerry’s whole body shiver at the thought of it plunging into him. It was so much darker than Vincent’s shining, sweat-sheened body—so much smoother than the prickly, curling hairs that bedded it down. Jerry’s mouth watered with need.
Jesus. Jerry’s emotions were as much a shock to Scot as the actions.
Jerry grasped at Vincent’s hips, like he’d been grasped himself in the kitchen, and took the cock into his mouth. He licked, running his hand softly up and down the base of the organ where his mouth didn’t yet reach. He gathered the balls into his palm and rolled them gently against each other, kneading the wrinkled skin against the smooth pads of his hand. Vincent’s legs shuddered against Jerry’s face and he moaned with pleasure. A wide palm pressed down on the top of Jerry’s head, urging him to continue. To do more.
=Enjoy his pleasure. Their pleasure=
Scot saw Oliver out of the corner of his eye, leaning over the edge of the pool, brushing his head against Connor’s shoulder. He heard Oliver’s soft squeal, and an answering murmur from Connor. They were caressing, Scot knew that. And yet he felt their eyes on him. Their talk was about him.
A sudden breeze alerted him to Oliver darting back across the courtyard, to kneel behind Jerry. His gaze flicked up to Vincent and they smiled at each other. Oliver’s pale hands rested on Jerry’s hips, anchoring him as Jerry rocked back and forth, his mouth moving up and down on Vincent’s cock. And then Oliver’s nimble fingers shifted to Jerry’s buttocks, easing them apart.
Jerry flinched. His teeth caught suddenly on Vincent’s shaft so that the standing man groaned.
Scot gasped. The fingers were on his ass—probing into him.
=Hush=
Connor seemed to be all around him, watching, admiring, directing the other men’s moves, yet somehow always and frustratingly out of sight. All Scot could see were Vincent’s muscled thighs, straining against his hands—Jerry’s hands!—the wrinkled, clenching sacs, shifting in delicious anticipation below his cock.
“Let Oliver touch you, too,” came Connor’s gentle murmur. “He needs to prepare you. There should only be enough pain to appreciate the pleasure. Oliver understands this.”
Oliver’s fingers glistened—with water? Lube?—as they stroked around Jerry’s hole. Scot shuddered, all too aware of the shocking, thrilling breach to come. Oliver was soothing the tension, stimulating the nerves. One finger slipped in, and Jerry tensed quickly. Then Vincent’s hands pressed on his head again, stroking his hair, pacifying him.
“Relax, Jerry. It’ll be fine. You trust me. We only need Oliver’s touch, to stretch you for me. You must be ready. I want more from you than your mouth. Oh God, yesss…”
Vincent shuddered more heavily, his sturdy body leaning on Jerry’s shoulders. His cock swelled further, pressing against Jerry’s palate.
Scot felt the sudden spike of Jerry’s panic. What if Vincent came suddenly? Would Jerry swallow his come, like his had been swallowed before? Could he do that?
Then the finger in Jerry’s ass retreated, and was repla
ced with the hot, wet muscle of Oliver’s tongue, licking in its place—lubricating him, stretching gently at the puckered entrance. Jerry groaned, shivering with the twin agonies of delight and embarrassment.
Scot had never touched Jerry there. When he’d occasionally dared, Jerry would flinch away. But Jerry never faltered now. Oliver’s tongue was firm and persistent, and it stroked from the soft, sensitive skin behind Jerry’s balls right up to his entrance, again and again.
Scot’s own balls tightened in physical sympathy.
When Oliver’s tongue thrust eagerly into the tiny, puckered hole, Jerry’s legs stretched instinctively wider, welcoming the caress. Oliver laughed softly, full of delight. A dribble of his saliva ran down Jerry’s leg, as his tongue fucked gently and rhythmically for another few strokes. Jerry relaxed even further and his sucking of Vincent became as confident as before. But suddenly Vincent grabbed at Jerry’s hair, and stopped him. Oliver paused as well, hunkered down behind him.
“No. Please don’t stop,” Jerry whispered.
“You can have more if you want,” Vincent panted.
Scot found he was panting too, as if he also felt the loss of the shaft leaving his mouth, and the tongue ceasing to invade his ass. He felt—shockingly—bereft.
“Yes.” Jerry gasped. “I want that.”
=You’re perfect for me, Jerry. We want you. You want to know what it’s like, don’t you?=
“Yes!” Jerry groaned. Looking down on him, Vincent grinned. He glanced over Jerry’s bent head and shared a look with Oliver. Then he lowered his hands, slipped them under Jerry’s armpits and lifted him back upright. He moved away from the pool, half-carrying Jerry’s body along with him, and lowered him onto the nearest bench.
Jerry sank onto the cool, hard stone surface, still gasping, and rested his back against the wall. Vincent took up position in front of him. His eyes raked over Jerry’s nakedness, over his straining, outstretched legs. Then Vincent grasped Jerry’s shaking thighs and spread them even wider, the firm hands pressing Jerry’s legs up as well, lifting his feet off the ground and bending his knees back toward his chest. Jerry’s hips sank back, and his pelvis tilted up. He threw his hands behind him to brace himself in a half-sitting position, but he was now totally exposed, his cock, balls and ass open to Vincent’s gaze.
And that was where Vincent was looking, his eyes sparkling with pleasure.
“I don’t know what to do.” Jerry moaned. “Not like this!”
Standing behind Vincent, Oliver laughed, a genuinely happy sound. “You will do, Jerry. Vincent is the very best at teaching that!”
Jerry stared up at Vincent and flushed. “But… Jesus. They can all see us.”
“Yes.” Vincent nodded and smiled. “They always will. That’s how it is. That’s how you’ll want it.” He stroked at Jerry’s tight hole with a possessive fingertip. The skin must still have been damp from Oliver’s saliva.
Jerry groaned again. “Lift me,” he said to Vincent. “You can do it, I know you can. Lift me and take whatever you want!”
Vincent’s thighs tightened as he leaned forward, bracketed either side by Jerry’s legs. He gripped Jerry’s waist and, with what looked like a ridiculously easy move, he lifted him up. Holding Jerry’s back against the wall, he rested his knees on the front edge of the seat until they took his weight, then dragged Jerry’s pelvis forward again onto his lap. Jerry’s balls came to rest on Vincent’s bent, naked thighs.
Jerry gasped and wriggled into place. Scot imagined he could feel the wall on his back, like Jerry must do, the bricks abrasive on his skin, versus the smooth heat of Vincent’s flesh on his buttocks.
Fuck.
Vincent took a deep, heavy breath. His hands tilted Jerry again, so that this time his hole rested over Vincent’s groin, poised against the wet tip of Vincent’s cock. Vincent held him there, the strong arms gripping him like a child, and yet still allowing him adult care and gentleness, waiting for him until he was ready.
Jerry moaned softly, shivering with the anticipation. Vincent’s grasp tightened again, maybe offering to distract him. But rather than making an attempt to delay it, Jerry stretched his legs wider, spreading them around Vincent’s back. He tried to force his pelvis higher, to make a better angle for penetration.
Scot heard Vincent’s murmur of delight at the eagerness.
Then Vincent’s strong fingers bit into Jerry’s buttocks, he was pulled farther down onto Vincent’s lap, and Vincent’s cock thrust into him.
Scot actually jerked where he sat. As if he thrust into me!
Jerry looked completely shocked, and cried aloud. But he didn’t push Vincent away. Instead, he fell forward against Vincent’s chest, clutching at the other man’s wide shoulders, as Vincent pushed through his entrance and up into his channel.
“Jesus, God! No. Wait… Oh fuck!”
Vincent did pause under him; it must have taken an amazing amount of self-control, to say nothing of holding the physical position. For a brief moment, he dipped his head to hear Jerry’s whisper. It was too far away and too low for Scot to hear the words, but then Vincent braced Jerry in his arms again, and another thrust took the shaft even deeper.
This time, Jerry sobbed, but instead of protest, his cry was of need. A rhythm began between them, Jerry impaled by Vincent, and Vincent’s powerful muscles thrusting them together. Jerry grunted softly with each movement.
The sound was one of pleasure, now.
Scot watched, speechless and sensitive all over from the shared feelings. He saw Oliver hop up onto the bench beside Jerry, crouching down. His grinning mouth leaned over Jerry’s chest and latched on to a nipple.
Jesus! Scot felt the little thread of lightning dart from the soft brown tip of his own nipple to his groin, and he wriggled in the pool, barely holding back a moan.
Oliver’s hand teased at Jerry’s erection, trapped in his lap, neglected as Vincent fucked him.
“Harder,” Jerry growled. Vincent obeyed. The rocking became frenetic—they grasped each other like driftwood in a raging sea. Vincent shifted Jerry’s body on his lap, and Jerry whimpered and tried to cling to the position, so that Vincent would strike him at that angle again.
Scot felt the wave of pleasure as clearly as the water in the pool eddied around him. He started to moan. A hand slid up his thigh—Connor had moved back beside him. His lips touched Scot’s upper arm, so gently Scot wondered if he’d imagined the damp, hot caress. Scot’s cock was thick and hot, even under the water, and he desperately wanted to touch himself.
=I want that too=
Vincent was groaning as his climax approached, but Jerry was there already, crying aloud with ecstasy as Oliver worked him, his cock crushed between Oliver’s hand and Vincent’s belly. He jerked, hiccupped and his cock spat his completion over their sweating skin.
With an answering shout of gratification, Vincent shuddered, and gripped so tightly that Jerry’s skin turned white under his fingers. They fell back against the wall and the bench, panting, melded together like one person.
And Scot found he was panting too, with his hand wrapped tightly around his dick.
***
Oliver tugged a blanket from off the bench, and spread it on the floor. Vincent straightened and helped Jerry onto the ground, then joined him. Vincent’s skin glistened with sweat in the moonlight. Scot imagined—or was it true?—he could see Jerry’s pale, sticky come on Vincent’s thigh.
No one had bothered asking about condoms.
=it’s not a problem here=
Scot wanted to snap back, wanted that to be nothing but careless, ignorant bullshit. But at heart, he knew it was true.
Jerry stretched out on his stomach, hip to hip with his new lover. Vincent leaned over him, feathering his skin with light, wet kisses.
When Oliver dropped to his knees on the blanket beside them, Jerry didn’t flinch. Oliver stroked him, mischievous fingertips running over Jerry’s ass. He slipped a finger into Jerry, probing gently.
But Jerry didn’t protest. Instead, he arched gently, as if to draw Oliver’s finger inside. Oliver seemed to know unerringly where to touch him, and Jerry moaned with rising pleasure.
=it’s good?=
Scot stroked himself almost absently. It was as if someone else’s hand guided him, yet Connor didn’t move any nearer.
“May I take you, Jerry?” Oliver murmured sweetly, over on the blanket. He might have been asking for a sip of Jerry’s drink, or a ride to the store. “May I have a turn?”
Jerry didn’t bother answering, though he sighed deeply.
Oliver rolled him onto his side, facing away. He pressed his fleshy, young body up against Jerry’s back, and spread Jerry’s legs apart. Oliver sighed with delight. His arousal swelled against Jerry’s ass, leaking its eagerness on to their skin.
Connor moved at last, putting his hand on Scot’s wrist. Their hands moved together lazily, up and down Scot’s cock. It was a strangely familiar feeling.
Jerry didn’t seem to mind when Oliver eased himself into him. In fact, his expression twisted with delicious astonishment.
“No pain?” Oliver murmured. His tongue lapped at Jerry’s ear like a kitten’s.
“No. It’s… good.” Jerry gazed up from the blanket. Vincent was watching them fuck. Vincent smiled back at him, and reached out a finger to Jerry’s lips. Jerry sighed and let the fingertip slide between his lips. He sucked on it greedily.
Scot’s own cock jerked on his lap. Connor’s elbow nudged him in the side. Oh God. He felt submerged in the heavy, blatant sensuality around him, and he knew he wanted to turn and kiss Connor.
=Scot?=
“You’re so good, Jerry,” came Oliver’s sexy, breathless whispering, muffled between Jerry’s shoulder blades. “I didn’t want Vincent to have all of you to himself. Would that be fair?”
