Page 84 of Shipwrecked

Mathieu, grumbling, crawls over to me. He climbs on top and strokes my ass, gently pulling my cheeks apart.

“Wait,” Cillian cautions as Mathieu slips a finger inside me. I groan. Mathieu goes still and peers at my face, studying. “He’s too sore right now. Come here.”

Mathieu looks warily at Cillian.

“I’ll be nice. Promise.”

“You can put it in,” I offer.

“Cillian fucked you?”

“I can use my mouth.”

“Come here,” Cillian insists. “Let him rest.”

Mathieu looks even more suspicious.

Cillian grins. “Look. You can use my mouth. How about that? I’ll leave my arms up here.” Cillian sets them down above his head.

Mathieu crawls over to Cillian, cautiously seating himself onto his chest, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his head. He grips Cillian’s wrists—who flinches when Mathieu grabs his left arm.

“Snakebite,” I warn, reaching out and shifting Mathieu’s grip away from the snakebite. Mathieu accepts the correction.

After that, Cillian doesn’t object. His offer was apparently genuine too, as he doesn’t lift his arms once, letting Mathieu sit on his chest and fuck his mouth. Mathieu spills into his mouth too, and I can barely breathe when Cillian swallows. His lips are slick when Mathieu slides his cock out, panting.

“How was it?” Mathieu asks.

Cillian wipes his mouth. “Not bad, but I prefer being on the other end.”

“It is equal for me.” With a deep sigh, Mathieu flops back onto the bed.

We all just breathe. Then, with another deep sigh, Mathieu rolls over to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in. I groan at the ache of moving but am comfortable once he settles himself, wrapped around me. He pecks my neck, then twists towards Cillian. I hear a soft thud.

“Do you really want to start something again?” Cillian asks.

There’s another thud.

“One more kick, Mathieu,” Cillian promises.

The kick doesn’t come.

“Come here,” Mathieu invites.

Cillian shuffles next to us.

“How many of your firsts did we take?” Mathieu asks him. “First blow job?”

Cillian makes a tired grunting sound in reply.

“First hand job,” Mathieu lists.

“I did the hand job,” I say. “But he did touch your cock.”

“To stop me from coming,” Mathieu gripes.

I appreciate that Cillian is getting the blame, even though I was the one who’d been holding the base of him. “You have a nice cock,” I murmur. “Your head fits perfectly into the back of my mouth. When you came, your semen shot straight down my throat.” I got credit for swallowing, but Mathieu made it really easy. I’m not sure his semen even hit my tongue, just painted the back of my throat.

There’s a long silence filled only by the sound of rain pattering on the roof of our hut.