It’s a strange summer’s evening without a doubt. Hot and humid, with something extra in the air that makes Rob Gregory feel more than a little jittery. He leans back concealing himself in the shrubbery then takes a swig of whiskey from the half bottle to calm his nerves as he tries to focus on his plans for the night.
There’s something about Blake and Jarrod that worries away at the inside of Rob’s brain. The two of them are like a pair of mosquitoes that have been burrowing into his head for near enough all his life. He’s known them since primary school, known their stupid names and their spindly legs. He can see then now, waving their hands in the air because they know what twelve times nine is before the teacher has even asked. Rob’s not so sure that he has the answer to that question now and he’s eighteen years old.
It’s always been Blake and Jarrod, Jarrod and Blake. Best friends who are joined at the hip, equally bad at sport, equally clever at schoolwork, equally ugly, equally geeky. Rob shouldn’t even be thinking about them but somehow they’re always there, grinning at him when he fails, consoling each other when he tries to piss all over them. Annoying the shit out of him.
Rob likes to think he’s an okay kid. Not the brightest spark in the bunch but he has ambition. He’s stayed on at sixth form to repeat his GCSE’s because he wants to work on the planes up at the nearby air force base and they’ve promised him a place there if only he can remember what the fuck nine times twelve equals.
So the question is if he’s not a bad kid and he’s got ambition why then is he crouched down in the bushes outside Jarrod Murphy’s mansion-like house, egg box in one hand, camera in the other, waiting to humiliate the nerd boys one last time before they head out for Oxford or Cambridge or some righteous hall of learning in the States? Everyone wants Jarrod and Blake with their geeky glasses and geekier brains. Everyone wants them except the football team and that doesn’t seem to count for shit anymore.
It’s the night of Winterbourne School leavers’ prom. The smallest reception room of the local four star hotel has been booked and paid for through fundraisers and right now the place is full of faculty and students, boozing and schmoozing and almost managing to be friends. Rob should be there with them knocking back the beers and dancing with his girlfriend Lacey but he’s not. Instead he’s here, slipping a finger around the neck of his too tight dress shirt and feeling the sweat trickle down his spine in a cascade of heat and apprehension.
Rob and his friends wasted far too many man hours planning out a huge campaign specifically designed to wipe the shit eating grin off nerd faces. It was good enough to be legendary, almost as spectacular as that Stephen King movie Carrie, but of course the bastards put paid to it by not even bothering to go to the fucking prom. So it was a case of back to the drawing board and with only a few days machination time all Rob and his boys could come up with is a full scale egging mission with photos for proof. Moronic yes, but these are desperate times and Rob’s willing to do anything. Just once he wants to be the one with the supercilious grin on his face when the curtain falls.
But none of this makes any sense.
Rob was opening batsmen for the first eleven and captain of the football team. He was the one to lead the school to a county athletics championship, picking up the cup and scanning the crowd the whole time to see the matching looks of adulation on the nerd boys’ faces. Of course they weren’t there and afterwards they had made it perfectly clear that sport to them was an utter waste of time. Fucking bastards. After that Rob resorted to tried and tested methods, beating Jarrod and Blake black and blue every time he found an opportunity. Exerting his greater power. Proving his superiority.
Concealed behind a sprawling willow tree in the front garden Rob watches as Jarrod’s parents pack a couple of weekender cases into the boot of the Merc and drive off, heading for Paris or Geneva or some other place that it’s likely Rob’ll never see in his lifetime. He knows they’re going away; he’s been listening in to conversations, searching for a chink in seemingly flawless armour. It’s not stalking, he just needs closure and if he says it enough times maybe everyone will start believing it.
Waiting another hour to make sure the parents aren’t about to make a sudden return, Rob sneaks around the back of the house past the swimming pool and the hot tub, that’s housed in its own elitist pavilion, and on toward the low box hedges that overlook the sunken patio. He’ll have his best opportunity here, lying in wait by the wide open French doors knowing that the geek boys will spend all their time down in that basement TV room -- after all who wouldn’t? Just once, a long long time ago, Rob was invited to a party here and he can still remember his jaw dropping open at the first sight of all the stuff in Jarrod’s private living room. TV, stereo, video games, DVD. There was even a pinball table and a juke box. It was revolting then even to his young eyes and from what he can see through the open doors it looks far worse now.
Creeping closer, Rob wipes the sweat off his face and slicks back his dark gelled hair. Of course they’re in there sprawled over the couch, smarmy grins on their faces, beer in hand, weed burning away in the ashtray. That’s unexpected. So is the porn on the big screen TV. So are the kisses.
Rob stops, his entire autonomic system going into overload. Breathe, damn it. Surely this is the moment he’s been waiting for. He, Rob Gregory, has discovered the boys who have made his life unsatisfying to the extreme in the most compromising of positions, their mouths pressed close, lips and tongues sliding together as they make these tiny breathy grunts that almost send him falling to his knees.
He pulls the camera toward him and checks the image on the screen, zooming in closer until it blurs from the tremble of his hand as he focuses on fingers that are stroking over straining zippers. This can’t be happening. He needs to cover their bodies in raw egg, snap off a few pictures and run like hell but for some insane reason it’s not that easy. Not when arms and legs are ossified, when brain is turning to jelly and cock is anything but. He can’t look and yet somehow he can’t not look.
Jarrod takes off Blake’s glasses and strokes a hand through the dark brown wavy hair and Rob sees the light right there in that simple gesture. He’s jealous. He envies them for having each other, with or without the kisses.
Blake has grown into his angular looks, there’s no denying it. Razor cheekbones and pretty pointed chin with these thick lashed amber eyes that shine out from his olive skin. Rob tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he watches him straddle Jarrod’s lap, stealing his specs and throwing them over onto the other sofa.
“Hot,” moans Jarrod nuzzling up against Blake’s chest, mouthing wet patterns onto the t-shirt and sucking hard enough to make Blake squirm and cry out. Inching closer to the glass panel at the side of the door Rob watches enthralled as the boys kiss in this teasingly familiar way like they’ve been making out forever. Time slips away and just as Rob is thinking that this is all that’s between them Blake wriggles back, sliding a hand up Jarrod’s thigh and unfastening the zipper on those old and not so cool catalogue brand jeans and he’s doing it so damn slowly that Rob wonders if this is going to be a cliff hanger episode.
Rob’s face is almost pressed up against the glass now and if Jarrod looks up he’ll be able to see him as clear as day. But he doesn’t. He’s too preoccupied with Blake’s lips and Blake’s tongue and Blake’s hand that’s sliding inside Jarrod’s fly and making Rob want things that are so fucking wrong.
The weather’s getting hotter by the second, and sweat is running down Rob’s back in rivulets. He wants to shed his clothes like a second skin, he wants to dive into the pool or better still into that jumble of bodies on the sofa. He also wants to be free from this otherworld he’s slipped into by accident. Maybe. A thunderstorm that’s building in the distance rumbles a warning telling him to find some sense and run away. But it’s too late, he’s already been sucked inside this vortex full of sex and sin and confusion.
The front of his suit pants feel damp to his touch and he rubs a palm over his swollen prick and feels the slickness of pre-come glaze his skin. Mentally urging the boys on, he clenches his fist around his material covered erection and squeezes, gasping in a slight groan as his fingernails graze over the sensitive ridges.
Pinching at his nipples he tugs frantically at the white cotton shirt, his right hand dipping down into the dried blood silk of the cummerbund. Lower into the waistband of his suit pants. Lower over the bulge in his boxer briefs as he sucks up the sight of Jarrod with his white blond hair and freckled skin bucking up into Blake’s fist, moaning as he begs for more in a voice that’s so full of want. Girls don’t sound like that. Girls use sex as a weapon. Rob wonders if he’s ever sounded that needy and if so why the fuck hasn’t Lacey fallen to her knees and sucked him off?
“Fuck,” moans Jarrod as Blake’s fingers snap open the button of his jeans and his cock springs out, big and solid and glistening with fluid.
Rob breathes in heavy pants of humid air. He’s more than excited, more than ashamed as he watches Blake’s fingers grease over his best friend’s cock.
“Like that, Jarry, don’t you, baby,” the boy mutters almost too low for Rob to catch the words but he can he hear the soft whimpers clearly enough as Blake works Jarrod’s cock, spitting into his palm and adding to the slick wet sounds and the increasing moans.
Rob twitches with frustration when Blake leans in for some more long slow kisses obscuring his virgin view of erect cock that’s taboo for so many different reasons. The low vibration of the thunderstorm hits him deep in his stomach and he feels the tingle of excitement zinging through his bloodstream born from a combination of electricity and voyeurism. Everything’s dangerous, filthy dirty dangerous and before he knows it he’s unzipping and his prick is standing proud in the evening air, throbbing with a steady pulse and begging for some fist. Heavy drops of storm rain spatter the flagstones and Rob breathes in the faint smell of ozone and dust and he knows that even if this ends right now he’ll never be the same person again.
“We need more beer,” says Blake kissing Jarrod so deep that Rob swears he can feel tongue then the boy bounces off into the depths of the house in search of alcohol and Rob is left staring at Jarrod’s cock and Jarrod’s hands.
Rob’s never watched anyone wank before. The sight of his older brother naked had him running scared and suffering from disturbed nights for a long time and that was just a case of walking in on Adie in the shower when he’d forgotten to lock door. So why is this so different?
Jarrod pulls his jeans down a little, cupping his balls and throwing his head back as he rubs himself off in these steady hypnotic strokes and Rob finds himself glued to the scene, mirroring the actions, playing along with the game. He’s shaking, scared to death and all the time he’s masturbating he’s wondering – hoping maybe that it’s the fear that’s pushing him to these extreme heights of arousal.
Jarrod groans and Rob urges his hips forward until the tip of his cock drags over the glass leaving snail trails of fluid to mark the scene of his depravity.
“Gotcha!”
Fuck. Rob feels the hand slap down on his shoulder and spins around, covering his crotch in total humiliation. For a minute he thinks it might be the police or Jarrod’s parents but no. For better or maybe for worse it’s Blake who’s standing there smirking away at him. He’s about to zip himself up and do a quick U turn when he feels the heat of another body press against his back and he finds himself sandwiched in between Jarrod and Blake.
“Caught ourselves a Peeping Rob,” says Blake, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“And it looks like he’s enjoying the show,” answers Jarrod.
They’re staring at each other over his shoulder, through him almost, and their voices which grate irritatingly every time he hears them now seem to carry much more weight.
“Look, guys, it was just a practical joke, okay. I’ll leave you to it.” Rob cringes; he could have thought of a thousand things that sounded better than that surely.
“Sounds good don’t it, Jarry? Leaving us to get on with it.”
Blake’s smiling but not at him and the boy wets his lips and leans in across Rob’s shoulder and he’s caught in the middle of one of those kisses that’re all open mouth and sucking. Even in this most humiliating of situations his cock jumps up ready to play like a puppy.
“Not sure if that’s what our Rob really wants though. Being left… to get on with it,” continues Blake.
The inference in those words is obvious and Rob pictures himself racing up to his room and dropping his pants, jerking himself off over and over in long wet streams as he replays this night in his head. He’s gotta get out of here. Start thinking rationally. Get himself together and tidy his clothes then head off down to the Crown to lose himself in Lacey’s tits and a few pints of bitter before the bar closes.
Employing every footballing skill known to man, Rob twists and doubles back, pushing with his shoulders and doing just about everything to get free from the nerd boys but somehow - some the fuck how - they have him trapped and they’re laughing more than ever. How come they have this newly acquired strength and lack of geekiness? How come they turn him on?
The boys manhandle him inside the house and he’s close to screaming for help. He’s never felt so weak in all his life and when he’s pushed down onto a steel and leather ladder back chair and he has a lap full of Blake he’s honest to God frightened. He’s hurt these guys, beaten them up and laughed at them. Spread nasty rumours all around school about them. He’s been a total shit and now- Well, now it’s looking like payback time.
“My friends know where I am,” he says lamely, looking over his shoulder once more as he feels a rough loop of rope encircle his wrists and tighten.
“But you didn’t drive here, did you?” says Blake. “There’s no car, I checked. And d’you really think they’ll reckon that the two biggest nerds in school have trapped the great Rob Gregory in their secret hide out and are busy torturing him for kicks?”
Jarrod continues to wind rope around Rob’s wrists and ankles and laughs. “Good that I did Scouts, isn’t it? Least I know how to tie knots.”
“See the thing is,” says Blake hanging into the steel bars at the back of the chair and writhing like a lap dancer on Rob’s knee, “We knew all about your little plan.”
“Eggs,” laughs Jarrod, “Bit old. Thought between the lot of you, you might have come up with something better than that.”
“What you gonna do?” asks Rob. He’s really scared now. If only he could reach the mobile phone that’s stashed in his back pocket. He’s been in worse situations than this surely. Fucked if he can think of any though.
Blake slides off his knee and leans over, his lips brushing up against Rob’s left ear. “Who says we’re gonna do anything?”
The boys smile at each other like Midwich Cuckoos then they drag Rob’s chair over to the side of the room until he’s facing the open patio doors with a good view of the flat screen which is showing the kind of things that he’s never ever wanted to see. Expecting at very least a beating, Rob’s almost disappointed when Blake and Jarrod collapse down onto the sofa, beers in hand and eyes fixed firmly on the TV.
“What you gonna do?” he repeats, the pitch of his voice rising a notch as he verges on hysteria.
“Shhh,” says Jarrod, wrapping an arm around Blake’s neck and lighting up a joint “You’re killing the mood. Be a good boy now.”
Rob’s always been a good boy, sexually anyway. He’s never fucked outside, or jerked off where he shouldn’t. He’s never even found a quiet place and done some naked sunbathing. He’s unadventurous to say the least. So now tied to this chair in an evening suit with his trousers halfway down his thighs and his boxers gaping open and revealing everything, Rob feels a slither of excitement that’s growing and threatening to consume him. Anyone could come in and find him here and none of this is his fault. He’s restrained and vulnerable, cooped up in a basement paradise with a couple of psychotic nerds. He’s not responsible for his actions.
It’s impossible to decide where to look. Downwards and he has a bird’s eye view of his privates and he’s still at that age where just thinking about his cock sends it halfway to happyland. If he looks straight ahead through the patio doors there’s all the thrill of exposing himself. Left is the TV and gay porn which shouldn’t be a lure but is. And right? Well, right is most dangerous of all - a world of Blake and Jarrod who are busy sharing wandering hands and tongues with each other.
“You can’t leave me here,” Rob says trying to summon up some self righteous indignance.
“Oh, you mean we can’t keep you as a pet?” Jarrod looks up and grins then goes back to exploring Blake’s mouth.
“I think he’s bored,” says Blake sliding down onto the floor and kneeling between Jarrod’s spread legs. “Maybe he wants entertaining.”
“Fuck you,” yells Rob as Blake pulls Jarrod’s jeans off, “No way am I gonna watch you faggots screw around.”
“Close your eyes then,” grins Blake, washing away a dribble of pre-come off the shaft of Jarrod’s prick with a swipe of his tongue.
Jarrod throws his head back and threads his fingers into Blake’s hair and Rob can see how hard he’s trying to stop himself from bucking up off the couch and thrusting into Blake’s mouth. Rob’s hips are jerking upwards in the same tiny rolling motion, ankles jammed tight against the cold steel chair, legs pressing inwards to give him some leverage.
“Want my mouth, Jarry?” asks Blake and Jarrod arches his whole body, whimpering low in his throat. Rob watches stupefied as Blake slowly engulfs the thick column of cock that’s jutting up from Jarrod’s lap.
The sound that Jarrod makes is enough to trigger all those internal arousal switches and Rob feels his stomach turn circles like a washing machine as the blood leaves home for more important parts. He tries to concentrate on the rustle of the leaves from the Mediterranean trees on the patio. He tries to listen to the splotches of rainwater falling heavy from the sky but everything makes him shivery and overly hot. His cock is sticking up like a poker now, unashamedly curving over to the right the way it always does but now it seems as if it’s inclining itself toward the boys on the sofa.
Rob knows that he’s been relegated to the land of the forgotten as Blake sucks and swallows a throatful of cock. Jarrod is murmuring nonsense words now as he pulls off his t-shirt, dragging Blake’s hands up and over his abdomen and whining with pleasure as Blake pinches then soothes, dotting the pale skin with angry red marks. Rob swears he can actually feel that mouth and those fingers and if he doesn’t get access to his cock soon he’s gonna spontaneously combust in a shower of white.
“No,” gasps Jarrod pushing Blake away, “not yet,” and he leans over to the table and grabs a joint from the tin, lighting it and heaving in a breath of smoke as the fingers of his left hand squeeze the head of his cock to numb the overload of sensation then stroke all the way up Blake’s thigh.
The blowback kiss looks incredibly sexy and Rob’s eyes are locked onto target staring fascinated at the way the boys’ hands grip each other and their tongues slide as the shared smoke trickles out the corners of both mouths.
Jarrod looks up, watching Rob watching them and he stands up and swaggers over, all loose limbed and brim full of confidence. Rob’s startled; he doesn’t know this kid anymore, the one who’s been hounding him with his superior brain power since he was four, the one who’s straddling him and curling an arm around his neck. Just for a second naked cocks brush together as Jarrod inhales from the joint then he shifts slightly and warm lips press against Rob’s which part like the Red Sea. When the smoke drifts inside his mouth he tastes beer and weed and just a hint of tongue.
Every breath of marijuana makes Rob happier and hornier and when Jarrod slips off his lap and walks away he feels like an abandoned child. “No,” he mutters “Please.” He doesn’t now what he’s pleading for. Doesn’t he want them to leave him alone? Let him go, maybe? Silence his fears with their mouths? Let him join in and play with them just this once?
Jarrod strips Blake naked and slops beer over him until he cackles with laughter then he lounges between his legs and lovingly licks up the puddles of fluid. Rob watches the passage of that tongue and sees the wide eyed expression of delight on Blake’s face. He listens to the murmurs of “Jarry, Jarry, oh fuck, Jarry,” and wonders how come he’s never heard the nickname before.
“Wanna know how this started?” asks Jarrod conversationally. He looks over at Rob who does this non committal nod. He really wants to know.
Positioning himself better Jarrod leans up on an arm and begins to grind his cock against the naked body beneath him. “We started off cybering. Just a couple of geek boys on their PC’s with nothing better to do. We’d look at porn sites together and chat. Then one time I asked him if he was wanking.”
Jarrod braces himself on the arm of the couch and reaches down to crush both cocks together with his fist.
“He said yes and we started talking each other through it, saying what we’d like to do, finding gay sites to jerk off over instead of straight ones. It was weird because when we weren’t on the computers we acted as if nothing was happening.”
“Until his parents had to go away and I was staying here to keep him company,” interrupts Blake in a voice that’s husky with sex. “We’d been swimming and we went up to his room to get changed and we were fooling around play fighting and I kissed him. How old were we, Jarry?”
“Sixteen,” answers Jarrod his face lighting up at the memory.
They kiss and Rob can see a whole lot more than sex in the way their mouths meet. Two years they’ve been a couple and no one’s ever noticed.
“Two years,” says Blake the mind reader, flipping Jarrod over until he’s on top now. “We fool around in school all the time. I’ve fucked him on the playing field, given him a blow job during cross country.”
“Christ,” moans Jarrod. “Remember when I wanked you off during chemistry. That was some practical lesson.”
They look at each other and Rob knows he’s been forgotten all over again as Blake slithers lower and curls up at Jarrod’s feet, licking and sucking his cock until he’s back to making that throaty whimper. Rob looks down at his erection which is purplish red and aching for some relief then he stares out at the night sky as it’s split in half by a jagged streak of bluish white lightening.
“Love storms,” he mutters looking over at Blake and Jarrod. Lacey never sucks his cock like that, like it’s the best thing in the world and she wants to make it last forever. He’s so fucking envious.
Blake and Jarrod share another of those Midwich Cuckoo glances.
“We’re gonna untie you now,” says Blake, “and you can go.”
“Or you can stay,” adds Jarrod with a languid smile that reflects the heat. “We’re going outside to play.”
Time folds itself into quarters and flips on its axis then the world shifts over a dimension or two. Rob has no idea what to do. It’s the brush of lips over the tip of his cock that helps him make up his mind.
Their fingers flicker over him as they unwind the rope and Rob thinks he must have become one of those Cuckoos as he stands up stretching like a cat, allowing the two boys to slide the evening suit off his body as if they’ve been undressing him for a lifetime. Taking him by the hand they lead him out into the night and he finds himself near to the point of begging, needing some kind of resolution to this madness.
Then fear creeps up and niggles at his brain. What if this is just a part of their get back at Rob plan? But for some reason he doesn’t think it is.
All three of them are much of a height, and much of a build too. Funny because Rob always thought of himself as taller, stronger, more muscular. Better. His lips meet up with Blake’s for the first time and he’s stunned at the softness. A tremor of pleasure runs through him which increases in intensity when Jarrod joins in. This slow burning three-way is happening, really happening. He’s outside completely naked, kissing boys in hot thunderstorm rain and it’s good.
Jarrod kneels, insinuating himself between the other two boys, and Rob shivers with anticipation as he accepts more of those soft kisses from Blake. He almost cries out when that mouth eases its way over the head of his cock. So hot. So wet. So wrong. Then Blake pushes his tongue between Rob’s lips in the same magical mystical rhythm that Jarrod is using on his cock and Rob’s legs begin to fail him as all three of them descend in this slow crumple to the ground.
The grass is warm and damp and Rob lies there on this back staring up at the thundercloud sky. He feels the drops of rain on his body and the licks of tongue across his skin and as silk lips glide over his erection he lets out this long sigh of satisfaction.
“Good huh?” says Blake with a smile in his words. Rob nods and smiles back and when Blake takes his mouth in this searing kiss which ups the tempo from languid to greedy he finds out exactly how much he’s wanting this. Leaning up on his elbows he watches Jarrod going down on him, see his cock sliding between wet pink lips and the revelatory thing is that he’s not frightened at all.
Blake kneels and licks his way down the crack of Jarrod’s arse moaning as he delves deeper and Rob is startled. How can that be good? Jarrod’s panting and trembling now but still managing to keep the blow job nice and easy and Rob thinks of bad things as he tries to control himself.
“Slick,” yells Blake getting to his feet and heading off for the house, more comfortable with his nudity than Rob can ever imagine being even in a million years time. Slick? The word filters through. He has no idea what slick actually is but words lose their significance when Jarrod cups his balls and wriggles a finger downward all the while swirling his tongue around Rob’s cock as if it’s a lollipop. Rob collapses back and looks up at the sky once again. If he stares too long at Jarrod he’ll get turned into a pillar of salt or maybe he’ll just come on the spot.
It’s hotter than ever now and the sweat is running off him in rivers. He’s surprised that he can’t hear the sizzle of steam as the drops of rain hit his skin. The thunderstorm matches the sex in every way. The long slow build up is leaving Rob twitchy and overexcited, desperate for climax and equally desperate for this to last forever. It will end and the world will come crashing down, but not yet. Right now Jarrod’s finger is rubbing circles over his hole and Rob’s cock has a mind of its own and is thrusting itself deep into throat muscles which clench and swallow him down.
Blake returns and Jarrod wriggles his backside in anticipation, slowing and cooling down the suck as he gasps in some breaths of air.
Rob wants to have an out of body experience right now. He needs to see what the three of them look like when they’re fucking. Himself laid out prone on the grass with Jarrod on all fours going down on him and Blake’s fingers knuckle deep inside Jarrod’s arse.
“Want my cock, baby?” asks Blake his hand still working away and finding some spot inside Jarrod that makes the boy quiver and whine for it like a bitch.
Rob twists his fingers into Jarrod’s blond hair and watches as Blake kneels up pulling himself a couple of times then sliding a condom over his shaft. Squeezing some gel onto his hand, he slathers it over his cock, breathing thick and low in his throat.
It’s so animal, so natural that Rob is aching to know more.
Blake presses a hand down onto his friends back. “Ready?” he asks as he leans into Jarrod’s arse. Rob feels the insistent push backwards, hears the mutual groans and he bucks up into Jarrod’s mouth.
The sex is slow and powerful. Blake slaps Jarrod on the hip and pushes deep inside him reaching around to stroke him off. Rob feels distanced in a way that’s good. He can’t become a part of this. Now he understands more about them, Blake and Jarrod are easier to deal with. Not nerds anymore. Now he can pigeon hole them in an entirely different way.
The hum of pleasure vibrating against the head of his cock is the beginning of the end. Arching up into Jarrod’s throat he comes with a howl and a rush of stars and ball lightening that he’s not sure is real or make-believe. Still thirsty for knowledge Rob doesn’t wait to come down from his high, instead he slides underneath Jarrod and tastes cock for the first time ever. It’s wet and drooling and sweet and glossy and he lets Blake dictate the play as he runs the tip of Jarrod’s prick over Rob’s lips, pushing the swollen head deeper into his mouth to practice sucking then pulling back so he can learn what to do with his tongue. It’s a master class and Rob is more than happy to be a pupil as he watches Blake’s cock disappear inside Jarrod, listening to the whimpers and whines and slaps of soft skin as balls collide with arse.
Finally the storm begins to build and they’re soaked by a shower of summer rain that rinses the sweat and stickiness away. The lightning turns everything a brilliant blue and Rob sees his new world in a slow strobe effect. The sounds of sex are masked by clattering raindrops and claps of thunder and everything becomes yet more intense. Blake climaxes with a shudder that filters its way through to Rob, turning him on more than he ever thought possible. His cock is raging hard again and when Jarrod arches and comes over his face he tastes semen and likes it way too much, opening his mouth wide to let Blake milk every drop inside him.
Laughing like ten year olds they sink back onto the soaking wet grass and let the rain wash away the sperm. Jarrod peels the condom off Blake’s cock and knots it, throwing it somewhere out into the darker part of the garden and Rob finds himself piggy in the middle of two naked geek boys and he can’t help wondering how this happened.
“Why?” he asks looking from boy to boy.
Blake smiles and leans over to kiss him pulling at Jarrod until he’s sprawled over the two of them. “Because it’s fun,” he answers eventually after all three of them kiss some more.
“And because you’re pretty,” laughs Jarrod rubbing himself up again Rob’s erection.
The come down consists of smoking and drinking in the Jacuzzi but then as the build up to more sex progresses with this heated inevitability, Rob begins to worry. He’s supposed to be showing his mates the evidence of the prank then fucking his girlfriend senseless in the back of her dad’s Mondeo. Conscience wins out. He should leave. Making a determined effort to rediscover the old Rob, he clambers out of the tub and finds himself rugby tackled into a heap of lounger cushions.
“One night,” murmurs Jarrod from behind him, words brushing against his ear as he wraps both arms tightly around Rob’s waist. They both stare at Blake who’s laying back on the makeshift blue and yellow patterned bed, cock hard and drooling and leaving slick trails all over his wet olive skin. Rob’s mouth waters at the thought of licking them up.
“Want to fuck me, Rob?” Blake asks fingering himself open and jacking his erection. “Want to fuck me while Jarry fucks you?”
This is it, the moment Rob needs to run the fuck out of here and never look back. He has free will. He’s not tied to a chair anymore. Rob looks down into Blake’s pretty feline face and the world spins another few degrees off its axis as he leans back and lets Jarrod take over, sliding a condom onto his prick and rubbing lube over him.
“Ready?” murmurs Jarrod nudging Rob forward with a gentle thrust of his hips until he’s knelt over Blake. Legs lift and hook around his shoulders and the head of his cock finds the indented hole like it’s meant to be there.
“Take it slow now, Rob,” says Jarrod. “Push inside him nice and slow.”
Jesus Christ. This is nothing like fucking has ever been before. It’s so incredibly tight that he’s being crushed in a good good way. Somehow Rob manages to remember what Jarrod told him and eases in rather than swan diving into heaven. It feels as if Blake is swallowing him alive and he’s scared for a moment but then he looks down and sees this wide eyed look of wonder on Blake’s face and he knows they’re both living in the same limbo land.
“God, you two look fucking gorgeous,” says Jarrod, sitting back on his heels to one side of them as he works away at his cock with wet fingers.
Blake cants his hips upward and Rob begins to fuck him slowly and steadily and when he hits that spot inside Blake cries out pulling Rob in for a tongue heavy kiss. This is amazing but Rob wants more. Needs to learn everything he can in case he never gets another chance.
“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” he says looking over at Jarrod who gulps and stares back at him with bright blue eyes that are filled with urgency.
Crawling around behind him Jarrod presses soft kisses up and down the dips and swells of the bones in Rob’s spine, his erection slotting into the crease of Rob’s arse, then he pulls back and Rob can hear the sound of the lube being opened. More than one finger inside him feels odd to say the least and Rob’s first instinct is to run away but then Jarrod scissors and crooks and Rob is filled with a sensation like he’s coming over and over again in furious waves.
“More,” he growls fucking Blake as slowly as he can manage, running his tongue over collarbone and tendons and along to that pouting mouth. Blake’s warm hazel eyes are almost black with arousal as he glances at Jarrod and Rob can actually feel him thrum with excitement. He knows then that the nerd boys have talked about this, planned out the details just like Rob and his gang plotted their public humiliation. But that was a whole otherworld away.
When Jarrod first pushes inside him the pain is so intense that Rob thinks he’s going to throw up but they wait until he’s ready and then when the burn becomes more good than bad he hisses out a ‘yes.’ Jarrod snaps his hips forward and Rob is left howling for more as he’s swathed in this flurry of light and dark and total fucking ecstasy. It’s addictive and when Rob tries to focus and examine what he’s doing to shift himself back to reality he becomes even more aroused. He knows then that this threesome will always be one of the most incredible experiences of his life.
Forced downwards by the ferocity of Jarrod’s thrusts, Rob covers Blake with his body and inches his hand between them taking hold of Blake’s cock and sliding his fist up and down its length as he licks the pretty mouth that’s smiling up at him. Jarrod is biting and sucking kisses onto his shoulders and up the side of his neck and Rob can feel everything inside him building to a crescendo. Blake moans into his mouth and clenches around him and Jarrod’s powering into him from behind his hands running over Rob’s body pushing him higher and higher until he’s about ready to explode.
“Fuck yes,” he cries as he pile drives his cock into Blake and comes harder than he’s ever come before. Somewhere in the distance he can hear the sound of Jarrod reaching orgasm but it’s so very far away that he can hardly contemplate what’s going on. He’s pushed out of the way and slumps over to one side watching as Jarrod sinks down between Blake’s legs and takes his cock in his mouth sucking him hard until Blake is hanging on tight and murmuring quiet words then filling his mouth with come that spills out of the corner of Jarrod’s mouth. Afterwards, when they kiss and Blake cleans up the over flow of semen with gentle swipes of his tongue Rob knows that he’s back to being an intruder in this place.
They shower together in the wet room that’s been built into the pavilion then make their way back to the house and Rob thinks it should feel odd to be surrounded by an escort of naked men but it doesn’t. He dresses slowly, drinking beer and laughing with them both as Jarrod, who’s used to wearing evening dress, does the finishing touches tying his bow tie and fixing the cummerbund in place.
The goodbye kisses are laced with a solemn bittersweetness and Rob turns and walks away.
“Don’t forget your camera,” shouts Blake.
“And your eggs,” adds Jarrod with that perpetual grin in his voice.
But Rob carries on walking. If he goes back he’s worried he might never want to leave. This way the world has a chance of righting itself.
And it does. Almost.