Page 28 of Stetson

In the video, Barrett gagged and creamy white liquid poured down Daddy’s shaft. I wondered how those lips would feel around my own dick, remembered what Daddy’s felt like. Was that what I would get if I held out? I wanted to be good, I wanted so badly to obey but when Barrett roared on the other end of the call, I folded.

“I can’t take it.” My left hand shot between my legs, fingers wrapping tightly around my cock. I sighed, and my hand moved of its own accord. The water pounding my back and streaming down my shoulders provided a slick surface for my palm and simultaneous groans graced my ears.

It didn’t take more than a few pumps of my hand for me to spill my release, bursts of come splattering against the wall in front of me. I stifled another groan. The video had stopped playing. Daddy had gone quiet and Barrett panted, grasping for each breath.

As I came down from my high, I realized what I’d done. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with aftershocks. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m really sorry.”

Barrett chuckled.

“Wash up and get home, Stetson.”

“Damn, you sound good when you’ve been throat-fucked,” Barrett whispered.

He wasn’t wrong. My cock made a feeble attempt to twitch at the sound of Daddy’s hoarse, raspy voice, but the knowledge that I’d just disobeyed him was enough to whisk that feeling away. I stammered and stuttered, fumbling for something to say

“Color, Stetson.”

“Green,” I said without hesitation.

“Good. Then we’ll talk when you get home. Shower off, and drive safely. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.” And then he hung up.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and rinsed myself off. As I pooled water in my hands and washed the evidence of my crimes off the wall, I wondered exactly what I was in for.

14

LEVI

Late May

Little didI know how long it would be before the three of us had any private time. It had been nearly a month since that night. Making two busy schedules work was hell, but three was damn near impossible.

That was all going to change tonight though.

I’d been looking forward to this game all season. The Thrashers were facing off against the Hellbenders again, but this time the Hellbenders were hosting. With both my men in New York, I didn’t hesitate to jump on a plane. A two-hour flight was nothing when it meant I got to see them at the end of it, even if I did have to sit through a grueling game first. The change of scenery was just what I needed. With Barrett in practice and Stetson still on his flight, I leisurely strolled through Central Park.

My phone chimed, and I stepped to the side to check it.

Daddy, please…

I smiled. That night Stetson got bold and jacked off without permission, we all crashed the second he got home. We hadn’t had a chance to discuss punishment, much less act on anything. One thing Icouldcontrol, however, was making sure it didn’t happen again.

Stetson had been under strict instructions for three weeks: no orgasms. He could touch himself enough to edge, but only if he let me watch—and I controlled the moment his hand stopped. It didn’t take long for me to recognize the signs. The way he bit his lip, the way his thighs trembled. Most importantly, how hebegged.Damn, my boy could beg.

At first, I thought he’d break instantly. But he surprised me. I guess the feeling of knowing he’d broken the rules was enough to keep him from doing it again, but he still tested his limits. The video that followed his text proved that. I connected my headphones and hit play. Stetson was hiding in an airport bathroom. He whimpered, grasping the bulge that tested the thin material of his suit pants.

The sight was mouth-watering.

Not yet, sweetheart.

He had a game to play first, and the sexual frustration would make him even more of an animal on the field. I had faith that Barrett could keep up, but I wondered if the rest of the Hellbenders knew what they were in for. I responded to the pouting emoji he sent me with a kissing one of my own, telling him I’d see him after the game.

In a stroke of luck, both men had the next day off. We had nothing stopping us from squirreling away in our hotel room and spending the night tangled up in each other. The past few weeks of fleeting visits and stolen moments between flights had only given me more time to plan.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, biding my time until I knew I could enter the stadium unnoticed.

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