Living It With Dylan - Chapter 2 free porn video

Wednesday

“I found Scotty a place,” Dylan announced, Wednesday evening at dinner. We were at a posh downtown place where you had to dress up, and Dylan looked so sharp in his suit that I wanted to fuck him in the men’s room, honestly.

“Calm down, bro,” he scolded me, slapping my hand away teasingly, when I suggested it. We had our bikes, since we’d both come straight from school, and we were waiting for horny Scott to meet us. He was outside, already, and I could see him through the restaurant’s front window, smoking a cigarette and staring at our motorcycles. He had one of our spare helmets under his arm. “You call him horny,” he indicated Scott outside. “You’re just as bad, boy.”

“Sorry, hon,” I apologized. “There’s just something about that suit that makes me want to rip it right off you.”

“You look good, too,” he smiled, giving me a little wink but then pushing my hand away, again, when I placed it on the inside of his thigh. “Be cool,” he scolded again, not looking at all serious. “We’re in public.”

“The bathroom’s a lot less public,” I tried, and Dylan laughed, thank God, because even though I kept harping at him about it, I doubted I’d be able to perform somewhere I might get caught and cited for indecency.

“I found you a furnished place,” Dylan announced again, when Scott joined us. “You can move in Monday.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, trying to look confused, but even I could tell it was phony; he understood just fine.

“It’s on sixteenth,” Dylan continued, not buying the act either. “We can stop by and look at it on our way home.”

“I was hoping I could hang with you guys,” Scott said, and I swear to you he sounded just like a whiney little kid not getting his way. I couldn’t wait for that guy to get gone.

“We need our space,” Dylan explained, and Scott nodded at him, misunderstanding for real that time.

“You guys need your own rooms,” he said, but Dyl shook his head like he was trying to think of a better way to put it.

“We need our space, Scott,” he finally said, “but not from each other.”

Thursday

On Thursday we took Scott out to an upscale Asian restaurant and he ordered the most expensive items on the menu, which I thought was obnoxious, but Dylan didn't even appear to notice and paid the guy’s bill without even looking at it.

“How about you guys let me film you?” Scott said, when the waitress had left us to our coffee. “Dylan said no, of course,” he said, leaning toward me like we were co-conspirators. “But I thought you might be a little more open-minded.”

“I can’t have shit like that on the Internet,” Dyl protested. “I’m gonna be a lawyer, bro. You think I need crap like that out there for people to blackmail me with?”

“You’re not ashamed of being gay,” Scott tried, shooting me a little wink because he was so sure that would work on Dyl.

“It’s not about that,” Dylan sounded thoroughly irritated. “It’s I don’t want everyone watching me take it up the ass.”

“You take it?” Scott eyed me, looking suspicious. “I’da thought it was the other way around.”

“It’s pretty sexy,” I interjected, taking a sip of my coffee. “I mean, watching you take it up the ass is hot. I’m just saying.”

“Don’t,” Dyl was getting pissed at me, then, obviously, for siding with Scott, so I let it go.

“I won’t post it,” Scott announced. “I won’t ever post it and I’ll distribute only to you guys. How’s that sound?”

Dyl ran his fingers over the top of his head, looking tense, and he shot me a questioning look. I shrugged, because it was all okay with me, either way. I was an education major, and I can’t have porn featuring me on the loose when I’m a middle school teacher, either, but if the guy wasn’t gonna let it go anywhere…

“I’ve always kind of wanted to see us on film,” I admitted, and Dylan shrugged, then, like he was beaten.

“We’ll see,” he muttered, and Scott beamed because he knew Dylan well enough to know that “We’ll see,” inevitably meant yes.

By the time I pulled up to our house I had an uncomfortably solid stiffy. Dylan brought Scott on his bike, and they were way behind me because they’d stopped to check out the apartment Dyl’d found, so I was all alone and feeling completely pre-occupied with my arousal.

I rarely jerk off because what Dylan does to me feels far better than anything I can do to myself. We generally come at least once a day, anyway, but the house was so quiet and I was so hard just from thinking about banging Dylan in front of an audience that I took off my trousers and sat down on the toilet with my erection in my fist, and before I knew it I was beating off enthusiastically and then ejaculating, like, everywhere. I got some on the sleeve of my suit jacket, which I should have removed when I took off my pants, and there were a number of splats on the floor, too. I wiped myself down with some toilet paper and a washcloth and I was mopping the floor with a hand towel when I heard the guys come in.

Quickly, I threw my clothes back on and met them in the living room, where Scott was already fiddling with his video cameras and explaining logistics to Dyl.

“You’ll have to let me get under you guys, sometimes, and you definitely need to announce it if you’re gonna spew, so we can capture the money shot, you know. I could see he was excited; his erection was bulging very obviously beneath his slacks, and I could also see that Dylan was not. He stood with his fists in his pockets, looking stressed.

“It’s gonna be fun,” I promised him, and he looked at me doubtfully, shaking his head.

“We need liquor!” Scott announced, and went into our kitchen to dig out some booze.

“It really will,” I assured Dyl, and he was examining me, carefully.

“Why aren’t you hard like him, then?” he asked, indicating his stupid friend in the kitchen.

“I just jerked,” I admitted. “Sorry, but I find the whole thing pretty exciting.” I paused for a moment, rubbing him gently and feeling him respond to my touch. “Don’t you?”

“I’m not adventurous,” he reminded me, but I’d been with him long enough to know that was total bull.

“You’re with me,” I reminded him. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, pressing my hand more firmly onto his hardening cock. “I hope it’s everything you’re wanting.”

“Let’s get started, then,” Scotty hooted. He was pretty wasted already, mostly from trying to get us drunk. I drank a shot with him, then he did one with Dyl and another by himself before we repeated the cycle. When I’d had three shots I felt a pleasant buzz and I could tell Dyl did too because his chest flushed red when he was a little lit, but we didn’t need to be wasted to fuck each other and Dyl explained that to Scotty before the guy got too shitfaced to film us.

“It’s just for your inhibitions,” Scotty replied, when Dyl explained we didn’t want any more alcohol. “I already don’t feel inhibited,” Dyl smiled, and I didn’t either, and we went in to gargle so we wouldn’t have nasty whiskey breath. We were fastidious like that, and even though we got sweaty together we always made sure we started out fresh. We weren’t girly about it and we were quick about our cleansing routines, but both of us showered at least twice a day and brushed our teeth a lot, too.

“Can you imagine doing porn with guys who don’t have good oral hygiene?” Dyl remarked. We were both bent over the sink, spitting out mouthwash.

“I know it,” I laughed. “Or how about anal with guys who aren’t clean?”

“I’d make a terrible porn guy,” Dylan admitted. “Rimming dirty ass would make me barf.” It was probably true.

“You make a great boyfriend,” I grinned, kissing him on his minty mouth.

“Ready for our next adventure?” he asked, looking unsure himself, but I was so excited my boner was pressing impatiently at the material of my jeans.

For a straight guy, Scotty sure seemed to know a lot of positions for us to use, and he’d detailed exactly when he wanted us where and how on a fairly detailed storyboard he’d drawn up before we even agreed to participate. He also made a script for every scene, just a few lines he wanted us to say, and he went over his plans for quite a while before we finally got positioned for the first scene.

“He walks in and there you are, whacking off in the chair, and he’s like, ‘Wow that’s big,’ and you’re like ‘Want to suck it?’” Scotty reminded us. “And then he will. Suck it.”

“Okay,” I nodded, because we’d been over it and over it and I just wanted to do it, already.

“He goes, “I gotta shower,” and you say, ‘okay’ and then you guys fuck in there, okay?” Scott pointed to the storyboard, which consisted of stick figures with arrow shaped dicks, positioned in various ways and occasionally, when Scott wanted a cum shot, the arrows had drops flinging from their points.

“Okay,” I nodded.

“Okay,” Dyl nodded, too. Scott made him go outside and then come in to the living room and stop, then he turned to me and said, “Okay, bro. Spank.”

I had an anticipatory erection, but Scott had positioned me exactly and I had to keep leaning forward so all three cameras caught what they were supposed to, and it was weird, seriously, to follow these instructions. Scott was holding a camera but also using his left hand to direct, and I did as he motioned, which was move my hands over my jeans and then take them down and pull out my boner. I managed it, but Scott was beckoning at me kind of furiously because when I sat back down after pulling down my jeans I wasn’t in the right spot. It seemed like a lot of my performance might consist of me looking slightly off to the left for my instructions.

I had my dick out, then, on film, and there was some freedom to that, I think, because it was started. I closed my eyes once I knew Scott had me where he wanted me, and I tried to think sexy thoughts while my hand stroked my cock in a fake way, like I was showing it off more than masturbating. I opened my eyes and Scott was nodding at me and he had one hand down deep in his khakis. Dylan was standing in the room, too, watching me.

“Okay, cut,” Scott would say, then he’d focus in on Dylan and move the camera behind me slightly to the left or to the right. Dylan came in again and I said, “Hey, man,” and he was supposed to say, “Wow, that’s big,” but he said, “Whatcha doin’?” and I just stared at him because I didn’t know what to do. I glanced over at Scott, who was rolling his eyes and mouthing, “Just go with it,” but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I’m beating off,” I finally answered, and Dylan was kneeling down in front of me then, and Scott was adjusting things. Dyl was focused primarily on my cock, but he looked up at me to converse and said, “Are you?” and there was so much smile in his eyes it made me grin.

“Yeah, I am,” I answered. This piece wasn’t gonna win any screenwriter awards, anyway, so I quit worrying so much about spitting out the lines exactly and just followed Dyl’s lead. “I’m just hanging here out in my living room, masturbating.”

“You have a nice cock,” Dyl reached out and touched it, then, and Scott leaned in ridiculously close to us. Dyl’s touch felt positively electric, like it was the most stimulating thing that had ever happened to me.

‘Thank you,” I said, and then I laughed out loud because this was all so ridiculous. “Want to suck it?” I asked, feeling giddy, and Dylan was grinning, too, caught up in the silliness of this whole adventure.

“I do, but I’m straight,” he shook his head sadly, still moving his magnificent hand on me.

“Just this once,” I said. “I won’t tell your girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Dyl was mocking the script openly with his tone, and we were both giggling almost uncontrollably. Scott was standing in an agitated stance, one leg out and his hip cocked in frustration, but when Dylan leaned forward and took me in his mouth, Scotty gasped, audibly, because it was truly beautiful.

It’s not like I got lost in it or anything, but my dick really didn’t mind the cameras, it turned out, and even though Dylan had to come at me from a weird angle to accommodate the filming, it still felt outstanding.

“You’re good at this for a straight guy,” I said, improvising, and Scott was behind Dylan, encouraging me to moan, so I did but it sounded absurd. “Uhhh,” I said, and Scott slapped his forehead because I was so pitiful.

My moaning got better, though, because Dylan was sucking my cock, and that guy’s gifted, I’m telling you. “I want to fuck,” I eventually remembered to say, and Dylan dutifully replied, “I gotta shower.”

“No, don’t,” I held his face to my dick, not releasing him to leave. Scott gesticulated madly because this was the opposite of what he’d written.

“I’m all sweaty from ‘ballin’,” Dylan was wearing his basketball clothes; that striped bro-tee of his always turned me on because his arms were outstanding. Seriously.

“I’m only letting you shower if I can join you.” I sounded so preposterous it was hard to keep a straight face, especially when Dylan looked up at me all smirky and replied, “I’ve never showered with a dude before.”

“Except at the gym,” I corrected him, leaving the script again.

“Oh,” a teeny laugh spurted from between Dyl’s lips and he had to clamp then together to keep from laughing outright. “Yeah, that,” he finally added, his hand still moving on my cock. “And, you know, like…camp.”

“And basketball,” I added, “with the team.”

“Yeah, and football,” Dylan added. “And after bull-riding. You know, with all the other cowboy studs.”

“I laughed. I couldn’t help it, and it made Dylan laugh, too, and sent Scotty practically into angry conniptions.

“Be serious!” he yelled, and I said, “Yeah, Dyl,” to Dylan and that cracked us up again.

“Start there, I guess,” Scott snapped.

“So you were saying…” I said, but Dyl looked confused and that made us laugh again.

“Again,” Scott looked grim.

“So you’ve always been straight?” I said, and Dylan made his voice really low – even lower than usual.

“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “Straight.”

“Until today,” I cooed, sounding so faggy I saw Dyl’s mouth twitch again. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

We stumbled through the initial blowjob scene, and, honestly, I was ready to be done with all the movie bullshit right then. Once I was truly aroused, I just wanted to take Dyl into the bedroom and fuck him, and I started to feel impatient when the shower scene went all wrong.

“The lenses are fogging,” Scott complained, and then there wasn’t enough room in the stall for all three of us. Dylan finally just opened up the glass door and set the GoPro on the floor underneath where he’d be banging me, and that was okay with Scott, who crouched outside the showers holding another camera, except I was freezing, then, and discomfort doesn’t really make for great sex.

“He needs to eat me first,” I explained to Scott, and I saw Dyl’s eyebrow flick up.

Scott didn’t understand, apparently, because he’s never done anal, so I had to explain to him about how men don’t lube up naturally, the way women do. It was kind of embarrassing, but since Dyl and I were already standing there wet and naked, I figured I might as well let the guy in on all our secrets.

“We have lube,” Dylan reminded me, and he toweled off to run into his room to get some. We didn’t use it often because, honestly, with all the rimming and sperming we do we don’t usually need it. Scott and I sat there together, me naked and limp, him dressed but bulging, still, in the crotch region of his pants.

We didn’t end up using the lube because Scott was intrigued by the idea of rimming when we showed him what it entailed and he let Dylan get me ready like usual. It wasn’t our chosen position, certainly, with me standing up and leaning against the shower’s wall while Dyl knelt behind me with his face buried in my butt, but it worked okay and felt good. Scott insisted he hold my ass all open, though, and kind of lick at me from the side so the camera could capture it, so it wasn’t as hot as it is when we do it for real. None of it was, and neither Dylan nor I were proficient at pretending otherwise.

Dylan complied for a while, tilting his face toward the camera and holding my cheeks wide open, but eventually (thank God) he got into it and just ate me. His face was deep in my ass and he brought his hands around to fondle my dick, which Scott loved. “Turn forward more,” he dictated, and I did for a minute, but it felt better the other way and I eventually reverted to the left again, even though Scott couldn’t close-up us very effectively that way. Dyl dug his finger into me, then two, and he was slobbering all over me like how I like. “Fuck me,” I said, even though it wasn’t in the script that way, and fuck me Dyl did.

He stood up and took me from behind, which is kind of challenging when we’re standing but we managed it, me lifting one of my legs and leaning against the wall some while he stuck it in. Scott was right under us, at times, looking up through his pervert scope and reminding me to hold my dick and balls up out of the way, so I was glad when we moved to a more comfortable position. We got to dry off because we weren’t pretending to be in the shower anymore, and I got on all fours in front of Dyl, who rammed me so enthusiastically I thought I might come even with dumb Scott there, but then I could feel Dyl’s cock go super rigid and I must say was thoroughly impressed by his level of antipathy regarding Scott’s project. “I want to stay in you,” he whispered into my ear, and I was moaning for real because my prostate gland was taking a beating and I was absolutely loving it. I could feel the stiff ridge of his cockhead swelling up in me and I recognized the changed pattern of his breathing, too.

“Do it,” I begged. “Come in me.” Scott was shaking his head at us because we’d agreed to pull out and show the camera our ejaculations, but I let out a groan of authentic pleasure when I felt Dylan shooting in me, felt his cum squirting against my insides. He thrust so deep in me if felt like his dick was displacing some of my organs, and I heard myself growling at him, and saying “Yeah…yeah” as he heaved into me.

Scott was holding the camera under us as best he could, but then he backed up some in order to capture the view of Dyl’s contorted come face and to watch the guy pound into me so hard it took all my strength to keep myself fairly stationary and stop my skull from slamming into the bathroom cabinet.

He collapsed onto me, then, sweaty as hell and so hot, and I relaxed, too, so we were a pile on the tile floor, but only for a moment because Scott kept asking for the “felch.” I’d seen the term on porn sites before, and Dyl had too, probably, but neither one of us honestly knew what that meant and I saw Dyl’s eyes narrow suspiciously at Scott, who obviously knew more about gay sex than he’d been pretending to let on.

It turned out Scott was wanting something we do a lot anyway. We just didn’t know there was a name for it when I got on all fours to let Scott film Dyl’s cum seeping out of my anus. It was super embarrassing for me to have that camera trained right on my wet pucker and all, but then Dylan’s attacked my hole with his mouth, sucking and licking his cum like it was some precious vitamin he had to have to survive and not caring about Scott needing to have the best angle. He was still excited, still breathing hard while he thrust his tongue into me, lapping at his jiz. “You now,” he muttered, all intense, but when we got untangled from each other and we had to wait impatiently for Scott to get all his shit organized. Dyl kept his hands on my while we killed time, but Scott insisted he back off and show the moment of insertion or whatever, so when Scott finally said, “Action,” Dyl was quick to slide a finger into my butt and put his mouth down on my solid cock.

“I can’t see,” Scott complained, and he ended up interrupting us and insisting Dyl just jerk me off using lube, so when we finally got started again Dylan’s hand was slippery and my dick glistened greasily. He bent down to suck on me or lick my balls once in a while, but mostly it was a good handjob and I sat up against the wall watching him, keeping my bent knees apart so Scott could film Dyl’s fingers sliding into my ass. It was pleasurable, for sure, and I concentrated mostly on Dyl, running my fingers through his hair and watching his gorgeous mouth envelope me, so I wasn’t paying any attention to Scott until he knelt down in front of me with his dick out.

“I gotta fuck that,” he implored, but it was Dyl he was looking to for permission. He glanced at me long enough to get his hands under my ass and hold his dick while he tried to push into me. “I need in this.”

“No!” Dyl yelled, pushing at Scott, who was still wearing a camera on his forehead. “Get away!” Dyl demanded, shielding my parts protectively with his large arms, but Scott was desperate. He’d apparently kicked off his shoes and pants, but he was still wearing the battery pack and his socks while he stood next to us, then, whacking at his stiff meat vigorously, and I reached out in the most subtle of gestures and put my hand on the back of his calf. He turned to me, his face anxious, and I moved my head in the smallest nod and he understood completely.

“Really?” he asked, but he was already maneuvering his erection into my mouth. His dick looked a lot like Dyl’s, but it felt different because he was uncircumcised so he had more skin, obviously, and the swollen end felt tender like a baby, like that part was newer, somehow, than the rest of Scott. He moved his fist along it and it moved the outside without his hand actually stroking different skin, and he was so hard it actually felt like there was a bone in his dick. My lips were on his cockhead for three seconds before he shot like a cannon and a big wad of cum pelted the back of my throat as he literally wailed with pleasure. Right away, though, Dyl stopped working on me and shoved his old pal, and Scott had to pull out of my mouth in order to stay standing. He finished ejaculating, though, creaming all over my chest while his hand continued to moved on his shaft, drops emerging in steady squirts like he was pushing it out a little at a time.

I could hear Dyl’s bitching, he was saying “Goddamit,” and “You dumb fucker,” and I caught his eye behind Scott’s body while the guy kept yelping and furiously spanking his dick over me. “It’s okay,” I smiled, because Dyl was jealous and he didn’t need to be. This whole thing was getting me off, big time, but Scott was no threat to my relationship with Dyl; that was certain. Dyl looked at me questioningly, and I gave him a quick wink, which made him laugh for just a second before he pushed Scott away from between us. “Okay, action or whatever,” Scott said, panting as he fretted over a camera and tried to get it started again, and Dyl smiled at me and meant it.

There were little puddles of Scotty’s spunk all over my torso and Dyl wiped at them while he massaged my hard cock, using the semen to lubricate his hands and then also bending over to lick at me with that tender tongue of his. I made a conscious effort to last as long as possible, but Dylan’s finger was pressing that amazing G-spot about two inches into my chute, and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t help but explode. Scott got all he wanted on that one, though, because it was gigantic, with cum flying out of me in energetic blasts. Dylan put his face up close to me, too, so some got on his lips and he licked it, smiling victoriously right at Scott’s camera.

“Is that it?” Scotty asked, naked except for the cameras’ battery pack and his socks. “Are you guys done?”

“We can be,” I replied, but I knew neither Dylan nor I wanted to stop yet. We’re madly in love and in our sexual primes, so we spend lots of time every day getting off with one another, and we often come twice or even more during our nightly sessions.

“Yeah, that could be a wrap,” Dylan muttered, but he was lying on me and I could feel his prick stiffening while he considered the question of “Are we done?” My dick was floppy and still wet with my cum and Dyl’s saliva, but I knew how it would answer, too, and it’s response would be something like, “Hell no, I’m not finished.”

“Can you do more?” Scott asked. “I mean, should I keep filming?”

“Go right ahead,” Dylan smiled at me, slyly, as I moved out from under him and sucked on one of his nipples, grinding it gently between my teeth. My hands explored him, too, while I moved down his body with my mouth and I could hear Scotty fapping a few feet away from us, but I ignored him, focusing on the cock I loved and the man I adored.

“Turn your head,” Scott kept repeating, because the camera couldn’t capture my tongue probing Dyl’s ass, but I didn’t care about his stupid instructions, anymore. If he wanted to film us, fine, but we were gonna finish this our own way, whether that played well for the camera or not.

“Hold his cheeks open,” Scott chirped at me, sounding bossy, and I did it, some, but focused much more on Dyl and his reactions to my labors, working toward the point where he was writhing with pleasure. By then, he held my face against him so I’d keep rimming his delicious anus and preparing it for my big cock. I stretched him, gently, with one finger and then two, and I pressed that happy spot up inside him while I moved my mouth on him, sliding my wet hand over his cock and balls in one smooth movement, over and over again until he was practically ready to come and my meat was solid again, arching itself away from my body like it was pleading with me to put it in, already, and let it do its work.

I didn’t enter him, though, until he was begging for it, until he was pleading with me to fuck him and telling me he needed it, needed me, so when I finally pushed my cock’s head in, his ass swallowed me almost right away. I never forced myself into him, of course, but it was a short wait for his body to accept me, to allow me in to pummel his prostate lovingly with the end of my thick dick and make him totally lose it and ejaculate with the forceful spasming throbs he’d come to expect.

Scott was talking again, issuing orders while he fondled himself. “On your sides,” he insisted, and I tapped Dyl’s ass to let him know we were gonna change positions. I lay on the couch, then, and Dyl lay in front of me. “Hold your balls up,” Scott reminded him, and I suppose he did it but I couldn’t see. I liked this position because Dyl’s whole back was against my entire front, and I could kiss his neck while I was in him, and whisper crap into his ear. We wouldn’t come this way, though; we already knew that to be true.

Scott did, though. I was watching him as he moved about, crouching here and there to adjust a camera, and then he suddenly sat down and jerked off, exuberantly. His face got really red, like he was maybe holding his breath, and then he came very neatly, shooting his cum onto a newspaper he’d laid out, apparently specifically for that purpose. His hand seemed to move more than ours did on our cut penises, but other than that I was struck by how similar his motions were to Dylan’s, and how alike their members were, compared to other men’s.

Scott hardly took his eyes off us as he spurted semen, looking down only momentarily, like he was making sure his drips were hitting their target. Almost immediately after his ejaculation, he regained full control of his faculties and started directing again, his brow set in critical concern.

“Can you ride him?” he asked Dylan, who tapped me lightly on the hip before he changed positions. I’d never noticed that before, that we signaled each other that way. It felt private, somehow, and I was kind of wishing we’d thought to not do that in front of Scott.

I lay on the couch, then, and Dylan faced me, grinning at me because we both knew how this position would end. He moved on me slowly, at first, handling his own cock gently, but the harder he rode me the harder he spanked, and just a few minutes into it I felt a big orgasm rising within me. It started with that familiar bitterness at the back of my throat, then other parts of my body became aware of the impending explosion. My balls constricted and warmed, simultaneously, and my cock shook kind of violently, along with my thighs and hips, like a tremor passed through me to prepare everything for what was about to happen.

Dylan recognized all of this and knowing I was about to come turned him on and made him ride me even harder, gripping his throbbing hard-on tightly. I didn’t announce I was gonna come because Dylan already knew and I wasn’t performing for Scotty, anymore, but it was surely obvious in the way I trembled and grunted and thrust furiously up at him, and it was even more evident when my cum spilled out of him back onto my pulsating cock. I kept yelling, involuntarily, but not words, really, so much as just, “Ah, ah, ah!” like the contractions within me were forcing air from my entire system.

“Fuck!” Dylan yelled, ecstatic from my sperm spilling into him and out of him, and then he released me and I pulled him up onto my face even while my dick was still pushing out jiz. I sucked and licked and even used my teeth on that sopping wet tush of his, and I knew he was close when he lay down on me, my stiff wet member rubbing against his and against our abs, too, while he moaned loudly right into my ear. “Coming,” he mumbled, but he didn’t have to tell me; I could tell. His hard-on was sliding around between us, pressed between our hips and shoved up against my still-seeping cock, and it shuddered and Dylan himself shuddered, his breath catching as warm semen pumped from him. He thrust at me as if he were in me, and I moved my hips, too, to answer him, to massage more slick cum from his thudding cock, to exact more pleasure from his body even as I provided it, and our movements were synchronized, expertly timed to the rapturous force rippling through his perfect form. God, we were good at this.

“Fu-uck,” Scott muttered, when we were finally finished and Dyl collapsed onto me, kissing my forehead affectionately. “Are you guys done now?”

“Turn that thing off, bro,” Dyl addressed Scotty while he smiled down at me, moving his hand in my hair. “It’s over.”