Page 80 of Puck You Both

He's thicker than Theo. A completely different weight in my hand, and I want a long, quiet hour to learn all the differences, and I'm not getting one. So I stroke him on the same rhythm Theo's using on me, passing the pleasure down the line.

Theo notices the geometry. "Look at us."

"Busy," I manage against Patrick’s mouth.

"He's multitasking, Patrick. On his first day.”

When mercy finally comes, it comes fast.

Theo's fist tightens and speeds up, no warning, and Patrick's mouth drops to my ear, hot breaths landing on my overheated skin, and the last of my self-control doesn’t die quietly. It goes loud.

"Don't stop." My own voice echoes in my brain, as if someone else’s speaking the words, rough and ruined. "Don't— Don't stop."

Theo makes a sound of pure triumph and doesn't stop, but what ends me is Patrick, rasping straight into my ear, "There he is."

I come so hard I forget how to breathe. My hips drive up into Theo's fist, and my own fist loses every rhythm it was keeping as cum stripes hot up my stomach, wave after wave of it, more than I knew I had. Somewhere in the middle of it, I hear my own voice again, broken open, in a room where both of them can hear it too.

The ceiling comes back into focus slowly.

"Okay," Theo says, shaking out his wrist, buzzing, still hard and gracious in victory. "Okay. Wow. Detailed notes later. Mostly tens—"

I sit up and take his cock in my slick fist mid-sentence. The rest of the review dies in a register I haven't heard from him yet.

He's been on edge all night and it shows. Patrick moves in behind him, knees bracketing his, an arm across his chest, mouth at his neck, holding him upright and open. Theo hangs between us, hips stuttering up into my grip.

I use every single thing I was taught.

The tight top, the slow base, and I watch his stomach the entire time. He lasts longer than I expect, which is still not long at all, and he comes with a shout, spilling across my fist and his own chest. Loud, long, and completely shameless.

He sags back into Patrick's arms, boneless, muttering something that's probably a compliment. Over his shoulder, Patrick watches me.

The only man in the room who hasn't lost a hand of this yet.

"You're behind," I say.

The eyebrow goes up. Theo, mostly unconscious, laughs.

"Maybe you should catch me up, then."

He settles Theo into the pillows beside me and kneels up, and I get my first real look at him like this. Kneeling in the dim light there’s nothing managed about him anymore, his cock flushed dark, angry red, finally, visibly, needing something from me.

It’s the single most intense power trip I’ve ever been on.

I reach out and close my fist around his cock, and his breath goes uneven on the very first stroke.

Then his hand closes over mine.

He’s not taking over. He’s showing me.

Faster than I would have guessed.

Tighter than I would have dared.

A hard twist up at the top that he presses into my grip once, twice, until my hand knows it without him. Then his hand falls away, and it's just mine, working the length of him while he kneels there and lets me learn him.

Theo stirs against my side, drapes himself along my back, and hooks his chin over my shoulder to watch.

"His thighs," he says, sleepy and vicious. "Watch his thighs. They quit pretending before he does."