Marcus rubbed Katt’s dick against the slick sheets, his thumb massaging the tip. “You’re doing great,” he moaned. “Samson’s gonna make you feel so,sogood.”
Katt felt his body clench around the intrusion as Samson pushed deeper, a reflexive resistance that made him curl his toes into the sheets. But then Samson began to move—not fast, just a slow, steady drag in and out, and Katt’s breath evened into it. More lube, cool at first, then warming fast. He closed his eyes and listened to the slick, rhythmic sound of it, felt the unhurried pull and push of Samson’s finger working him open.
He pressed his face sideways into the pillow and just felt it: the soft, insistent stroke, the stretch of it, the way his body had stopped pushing back and started pulling inward instead, greedy and involuntary, his hole tightening around Samson’s finger each time it withdrew. Somewhere in the rhythm, his body startedwanting—his inner walls tightening around the digit, squeezing, trying to draw it further in.
The twins leaned across Katt’s back and kissed, their bodies taut with hunger, their cocks dragging slick lines across his skin. Marcus stroked him more firmly, a slow, twisting pull that coaxed the blood back into him, and Katt’s breathing quickened against the pillow, his hips rocking into the rhythm of it.
When Samson pressed a second finger alongside the first, the stretch was immediate and undeniable—a deep, full ache that made Katt’s breath snag in his throat. A ragged moan tore out of him, and his ass pushed back, chasing it.
Samson’s own breath had gone shallow. He worked his fingers in a slow scissoring motion, feeling the resistance give, the tight ring of muscle softening around him. Then his fingertips dragged across something deep inside, and Katt’s whole body locked—a strangled cry ripped from his throat, his cock going instantly, almost painfully hard in Marcus’s fist.
“There we go,” Samson said with a smile in his voice. “That’s the spot.” He touched it again, and Katt yelped, his whole body convulsing against the bed. He could swear the man was jerking him offfrom the inside.
“Oh, my god…” Katt choked, huffing into the pillow. “Oh fuck…fuck…”
Marcus squeezed his throbbing cock. “Told you it would feel good,” he moaned against Katt’s ear. “Cum for us again.” With that, Marcus stroked him faster. Katt lifted his ass, giving the boy more room. Then he was thrusting through his fist while he shoved his ass against Samson’s fingers.
“Good,” Samson murmured, breathing a bit faster. He applied more lube and inserted a third finger. “Just let yourself go.”
Samson pressed into the spot and held, and Katt’s breath simply stopped. For one suspended moment, his whole body went rigid—thighs locked, spine arched, fingers white-knuckled in the pillow—and a broken sound tore out of him, swallowed by the pillow.
Marcus’s fist tightened around him, stroking faster, and Katt felt it building from somewhere deep and central, radiating outward through his thighs and up into his gut, a tightening that was almost unbearable. “Uh!” His toes curled into the sheets. His breath came in ragged, stuttering bursts, each exhale a wrecked syllable. “Oh fuck… fuck…”
Samson’s fingers found the spot a third time and held there, and Katt shattered—“Uh… uh… uuhhh… fuck… fuuuck!”—his back bowing, his whole body seizing as he spilled across the sheets in long, shuddering pulses, his cock throbbing in Marcus’s grip long after the sound had left him, while his face stayed buried in the pillow, breathing nothing.
“I have to gonow.”Daniel retreated toward the studio door. Gideon followed.
“You don’t want to finish watching the shoot?”
Daniel leaned against the doorframe as if he needed the support. “Ican’tfinish watching it.” He chuckled and rubbed his face. “I don’t think I can survive it.”
Gideon smiled. “You’ve watched other shoots.”
“I know, but…” Daniel took a deep breath, shaking his head. “But today…” He looked at Gideon, his eyes scalding. “… after everything we’ve done…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I can take any more without…”
Gideon held his stare, knowing what he would say.
Stepping forward, Daniel cupped Gideon’s neck and kissed him. “Without wanting… more,” he whispered through the kiss.
“I’m sorry.” Gideon touched his head to Daniel’s.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Daniel murmured, sliding his fingers into Gideon’s hair. “It’s all a process. One we’ll get through together.”
“Yeah,” Gideon whispered, kissing him softly.
“Remember.” Daniel lifted Gideon’s face. “It was my call, not yours. Thislinewe choose not to cross just yet…Idrew it, not you. If I find myself suffering now and then…” He smiled small. “… that’s on me.”
“Now and then?” Gideon slowly raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching slightly.
Daniel chuckled. “Okay, so maybe twenty-four, seven.” He shrugged. “I’ll live.”
“Not sure I will,” Gideon mumbled, then laughed quietly.
“You will.” Daniel took his hand and kissed it. “We both will.”
Gideon sighed. “I’ll walk you out.” He stepped over and spoke to Rich, the director, then exited the room behind Daniel.
They just reached the ground floor when the doorbell rang. Gideon walked ahead, crossing the spacious entry area, his shoes clacking dully on the hard floor. When he approached the front door and pulled it open, a young, good-looking man stood on the other side.
