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Socrates never fucked that rough.
A moment later, Jegs finally slowed and leaned in close. “You like that,” he panted against Ashton’s ear. Not even remotely a question.
Ashton’s laugh came out breathless. He turned his head. Jegs lined up their lips and fused their mouths with a heated growl.
Breck gaped, unable to believe his eyes. His homie waskissinganother man. To the point that their dueling tongues were clearly derailing Ashton’s focus.
“Faster!” Pretty Mama wailed.
Jegs chuckled.
Ashton cursed, then fell back to feverish fucking, Jegs’ glistening rod disappearing repeatedly deep inside his ass. Moans punched up his throat. “Ungh, fuck— Ungh, fuck—”
Even Jegs started groaning, his muscles twitching as Ashton rode his cock.
Ashton’s head fell back, his thrusts turning erratic. “Shit—” he strained. “Ungh fuck—I’m gonna fucking come—”
“No!” Pretty Mama protested.
Jegs chuckled huskily. “You better not.”
Either way, that was definitely Breck’s cue. He needed to grab his keys asap and split.
But as he shuffled sideways, closer to his dresser, things over at Club Threesome abruptly shifted gears. Jegs pulled out, his glossy cock rigid and bobbing. Ashton shuddered with a groan and withdrew, too. Fumbling drunkenly, both guys threw on fresh condoms, re-lubed, then swapped places in their little happy train.
Breck didn’t move a muscle. Surely, they’d spot him as they relocated. Fortunately, both looked ripped as hell and with one singular focus: to get back to fucking each other as fast as humanly possible. That chick on the bed just kind of seemed like an afterthought.
Breck stilled. Or maybe she was aconvenient excuse.
He regarded Pretty Mama and Ashton. Were they the same two Jegs had trio’d with last time? Breck suddenly suspected that, if not both, at least Ashton was. Were Jegs and his buddy using ‘threesomes’ as a pretext to hook up?
Breck’s lips parted, as the two assumed their new positions. Sure enough, neither one noticed him, their hungry gazes locked on each other and absolutely nothing else.
“Jegs?” Little mama peered blindly over her shoulder. “Don’t you want me to give you head?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jegs spread his stance wide in order to line things up. “Not yet, though. Wanna see how good Ashton did at getting you ready for my cock.” He gripped her hip, then shoved inside, straight to the hilt.
“Oh, God!” she cried out, clutching the covers.
“Not bad,” he growled, slapping her ass. “I’m in. You ready?”
“Yes!”
Although, Breck was pretty sure Jegs wasn’t talking to her.
Ashton moved in close and nestled his crown between Jegs’ cheeks. “Yeah,” he rasped, slowly easing forward.
By Jegs’ grunt, Breck knew exactly when Ashton breached him and started pushing inside.
“Fuck,” Jegs strained out, clutching their alibi’s hips.
“Almost there,” Ashton whispered, watching his dick disappear.
Breck narrowed his eyes, studying them closely in action. It was almost like… they’d done this before. Had all but choreographed what to do and what to say. Question was, how many times had they done this? ’Cause swear to God, it looked like they had it down pat.
“Ashton?” Miss Alibi moaned into the covers.
“Right here,” Ashton ground out, clutching Jegs’ hips. He sank to the hilt, then stirred his pelvis to push in even deeper.
