“Look at that,” he whispers, holding up the screen to show me a preview of my own blank face and dripping cockhead.
My dick twitches against my stomach.
Finn grins. “Yeah, I know you like it.”
Then the first guy shows up. I catch it in my peripheral. The flash catches branches, then a shape, then a man. Broad shoulders, thick chest, and a heavy beard covering half his face.
He closes the distance until he towers right in front of us, looking hesitant. His gaze drags down my body. His nostrils flare.
“Hey,” the guy says, tone cautious. “He drugged?”
“‘Course not, man. He’s our doll,” Grant says, and then leans over me. “Blink twice if you’re a good little fucktoy, doll.”
I blink twice.
The stranger’s breath hitches hard.
“Fuck. He’s a hot piece of meat,” he mutters, reaching out to thumb at my cockhead. Something in my stomach pulls tight in the best way with the words. “Any hole?”
“Yeah,” Grand agrees. “He doesn’t move, though. He doesn’t suck, either. He doesn’t do anything. He’s a cocksleeve. You use him however you want, but you do the work.”
“Works for me.”
“Condoms are mandatory, and you only get one turn,” Grant continues explaining the rules. “He can’t safeword in mode so if I say stop, you stop.”
The guy considers it for half a second. “Yeah, fine.”
“Which hole?”
Another pause. The guy reaches out, tilting my head up, and I let it happen. He looks at my face, and makes a sound low in his throat.
“Mouth.”
He hacks his belt open with one hand, his other tightly gripping my jaw, his thumb forcing its way between my lips to pry them wide.
“Hey, man, I’m filming. That cool?” Finn asks when the guy pulls out a condom.
“Long as you don’t get my face.”
“Bet. We’ll keep you anonymous, big guy.”
The stranger steps right into my space, his fingers bunching into my hair to anchor the back of my head. He tilts my face up and slides deep into my mouth with zero hesitation. My throat instantly clamps around the thick, rubber-covered length.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, that’s good. Look at that throat swallow it like a champ.”
“Right?” Finn says, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “Best mouth in the city, bro.”
The guy grunts, his hips snapping forward so hard my nose buries into his pubes, and the musky smell of his skin mixed with latex makes me dizzy with arousal. My jaw is stretched to its absolute limit, spit pooling heavily under my tongue because I’m fighting the urge to swallow around his girth.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the guy breathes, pulling out to slap his dick against my cheek. Spit smears across my skin where SPIT HERE is written, and Grant makes an approving noise. “You’re not even gagging. What the fuck are you, some kinda robot?”
“Nah, bro. He was just born to take cock.”
Then the guy is shoving back in, riding his weight deeper this time, the crown of his dick brutally nudging the entrance to my throat. His grip on my hair tightens, his hips pistoning faster, and the air fills with the wet squelch of my throat taking every single inch.
My brain goes completely white.
This is it.
