Page 31 of Brushed and Buried
Vince grunts in approval, like he owns the room. And me.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 1. Vince – 2.
Trevor huffs beside him, muttering, “Can you make me win? I’m getting married on Sunday. I won’t be able to bloody do this thing anymore!”
Vince laughs, hand still heavy on me. “Why not? Look at him. I’m pretty sure if we wanted to, he’d just lay himself out and let us have him exactly like this.”
Heat burns my face, but it is nothing compared to the fire Vince drags through me. Shame twists into something raw and filthy. I never imagined this. After all these years, Vince is actually touching me, with three of his friends watching, wanting, ready. My nerves scream, every gasp and shiver feels amplified by their hungry eyes.
I see the others shifting, lust mingling with awe. They have seen me like this before, but now it feels sharper and hotter. Every slight move from Vince makes my chest pound, my cocktwitch, and my skin tingle. Shame, excitement, and arousal tangle into one impossible knot.
The obvious fact that Vince is orchestrating this, after all our years apart and the unspoken things, leaves me breathless, completely exposed, and craving for more.
Oh god. I hope they do more.
Lance spins the bottle again. It slows, then tilts, pointing straight at himself. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Touch,” he announces.
I’m dizzy now, my body already oversensitive from Vince’s hands. I try to steel myself, but it’s getting harder to think straight and hold any control.
He approaches me with quiet warmth. His lips brush the inside of my elbow first in a soft tease before his hand slides down my side with fingers grazing my ribs. I barely react. My body feels overloaded, with every touch from Vince still echoing.
“Damn,” Lance mutters, half surprised, half frustrated, voice low but teasing. “Ice cold again.”
I almost can’t help the tiny shiver that would betray me, the flush in my face, the slick dampening at the tip of my cock. I won’t give Lance any points. I want a certain someone to win.
Thank god I do not wait long. The spinning bottle stops at Vince, and my breathing goes shallow. Vince gets it again. His dark eyes flick to me, sharp and certain. “Dare,” he says, controlled. Then, almost imperturbably, he adds, “Trevor.”
My stomach drops. He’s not doing the dare himself.
Trevor sprawls back on the couch with his knees spread and hands resting lightly on his thighs. He is already looking too confident for my nerves. Vince leans close, his breath brushing my ear, voice a little predatory. “Position yourself on the floor between his legs, on your knees and hands. Don’t break eye contact or make any reaction, whatever he does to you.”
I swallow, knees hitting the carpet as I lower myself between Trevor’s legs. My cock wobbles as I move, heat pooling low in my belly as I try to keep my expression neutral, just like Vince ordered.
Trevor’s fingers brush my shoulders before his cock comes into view. It turns out that he doesn’t need Vince to tell him what to do. He knows exactly what his friend has in mind. He nudges the tip of his cock along my lips, tracing the outline, tapping the corners. I’m supposed to keep still, lips sealed, eyes locked on his, but the sensation is electric, teasing fire straight into my groin. The room goes silent, every guy holding his breath, waiting.
I want to flinch, to part my lips, but I shouldn’t. I have a feeling my body will betray me at some point if this goes on longer than intended. The tip of Trevor’s cock presses harder, moving from my lips to my cheeks, and then to my nose.
I cannot resist it. My head tilts up, chasing it with my lips as they part just a little, enough to let a trace of my tongue brushalong him. I shiver, breaking eye contact for the first time, my mouth craving more.
Vince’s voice cuts through me. “Slut. Just what I expected.” His tone is sharp, possessive, and knowing, like he’s seen right through me the entire time.
The other boys lean forward, murmurs and quiet exclamations filling the room. George’s hand twitches near his lap, Lance exhales slowly, and Trevor freezes and mutters something under his breath. Every eye is on me, every reaction magnifies, and I am helpless under the heat of it.
I cannot stop myself. I trace my tongue along Trevor’s cock, tasting and teasing it, ready to take him fully if given the chance. I had a taste of it that one fateful bachelor party night, and I really liked how his cock felt in my mouth, especially when I knew Vince was watching me suck his best friend. Vince’s presence bears down on me, controlling and dominant, watching my every flicker of desire.
Scores: Lance – 1. George – 1. Trevor – 1. Vince – 3.
Finally, Lance breaks the tension. “Holloway wins. He gets three minutes to do whatever he wants with Adrian.”
On my knees on the carpet, fully exposed with my cock dripping, I look up at Vince. Trevor looks a bit disappointed he’s not getting any action further than this, but he seems happy his best friend gets the point. Vince’s eyes sweep over me, and I know that whatever comes next, I am entirely his.
I collapse back onto the carpet, chest rising and falling like I’ve just run a marathon. The fibers itch against my shoulders, grounding me in this dizzy haze. Vince is there, kneeling beside me, calm and collected, every move exacting like he’s drawing out my destruction.
His hand slides down, fingers cupping my balls, tracing my taint before he drags his fingers upward in one steady stroke, wrapping my cock in his grip. I gasp, my hips jerking, because it’s too much, too unrelenting and intentional. Vince strokes me like he’s got nowhere else to be, like he’s content to own every second of this.
“He’s close,” Vince announces to the room, voice dark and steady. Everyone goes silent. I can hear their breathing, ragged and waiting.
Vince leans down, mouth near my ear, and says, “Suck his nipples.”
