Evan’s been dreaming about his best friend, Thorn, fucking him into oblivion. When Thorn invites him over along with mutual friend Kevin, Evan’s decided he’s had enough with dreaming. He’s going to make his dream become reality, whether Thorn wants it or not.
Luckily, Thorn really wants it. And Kevin’s not going to just sit back on the sidelines and watch it happen.
Warning: this 5,200+ word story is for adults only! It contains a hot and heavy M/M/M threesome between extremely eager men, blowjobs, anal, and the explosive creampie finish that Evan’s been dreaming about.
Excerpt:
His skin is smooth, surprisingly. Evan touches the scar over Thorn’s eyebrow and this is where he finally reacts, cracking open an eye as his lips turn upwards. There’s that laugh again, the one Evan’s heard in his head when those lips are kissing his back and the fingers playing along his hips are inside of him. Thorn knows how to play him, inside and out. Like they’ve been together a million times before this.
“You look eager,” Thorn says. One of his hands drops from Evan’s hip and palms the thick member against his stomach through the cloth of Evan’s jeans, eyes jumping down to watch his fingers at work.
Evan bites his lip and pushes into his best friend’s hand, his own eyes closing as he gasps. “Fuck. Don’t be a dick right now, Thorn. Come on.”
He laughs again, and this time it’s nearly sardonic. “Who’s being a dick?” he asks, then squeezes.
Jesus fuck. If there was anything that should’ve made him roll awake, it’s the jolt he gets from Thorn squeezing his dick. “Come on,” Thorn taunts.
He should watch his words.
Evan leans down and puts his mouth on a nipple the way he’s thought of doing, the way he knows Thorn’s done to a hundred girls in the past. He sucks, eyes blown open so he can watch Thorn’s whole body arch toward him, his tongue working double time to keep his lips wet. His hands skate over ribs and hip bones, running on automatic. He grinds down against Thorn’s thigh, hearing that laugh again so piercingly annoying that he takes a hold of the guy’s hair and jerks his head to the side for a kiss.
Thorn wasn’t expecting it, the tug making him inhale. He doesn’t have much of a taste that Evan can define, soaked in beef and beer as he is already. But goddamn if his mouth isn’t the hottest, slickest thing he’s ever touched. His tongue is lazy in exploration, running along teeth and gums, fighting with Thorn’s for control. This time Thorn really arches, lifting up on his elbows to deepen it. Both of their eyes are closed, Evan’s hands all over the place like he’s blind and the only way to memorize the details is through his fingers. There’s curvature and dips in muscle he swears he’s never seen before — and finally, finally, he gets to run his fingertips over all those tiny little thorn scars, scratching over them. That’s when he starts to feel Thorn’s length responding just as eagerly against him.
That’s new. Definitely. And a pair of jeans isn’t hiding much on his end.
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