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Matt offered his secondary’s tip a last lick before turning his attention to the larger sex. Masturbating the shaft he’d devoted so much attention to, he gave his mouth to the other. He started with delicate kisses and licks, teasing Avir as he’d often been teased. A soft growl told him he was on the right track to driving his lover crazy…as did the pearl of passion forming on the primary’s slit.
Using the same gentle touch, Matt claimed it. He gazed at Avir as he rolled his intimate flavor on his tongue, noting how dark the Dramok’s stare had gone. There was a sense of barely controlled danger about him, as if Avir were on the brink of erupting off the bed so he could grab Matt and fuck him.
Looking into the powerful man’s stare, Matt sucked his cock, taking as much of him as he could manage. Avir hissed, his lips wrinkling to show his fangs behind his flatter teeth. A thrill traveled Matt’s spine and filled his cock at the feral display.
His hand on the Dramok’s secondary and his mouth on the larger cock moved up and down in rhythm. He went slowly at first, then quicker, then slowly again as Avir fisted the sheets and watched with a brute intensity that terrified and motivated Matt at once.
He was definitely aroused again.
He alternated between cocks, sucking them in turn at varying speeds, enthralled by Avir’s reactions. He uttered sounds, hoping to excite his Dramok even more. He moaned and slurped, working his shafts with greater demand as minutes stretched out. Avir continued to look on the verge of tossing him on the bed and fucking him at any given second.
At last, Matt became a little too enthusiastic. He drove his mouth onto Avir’s primary and ended up gagging himself. He choked on the length, and his lips beat a hasty retreat.
He was still coughing when he was lifted in the air. He landed on hands and knees, facing the foot of the bed. Avir was behind him, snarling. The Dramok grabbed Matt’s hips and pulled him backward, thrusting at the same instant.
Avir mounted him forcefully, driving the breath from Matt’s lungs. Fortunately, Masok had already fucked him, so he was well stretched. His cry came more from surprise than hurt as Avir’s groin slapped his ass in a rapid tattoo.
“Fucking…gorgeous…Earther…” his lover gasped as he rutted violently. “Fucking…delicious…mouth…incredible…ass…”
Whatever else he said was lost in bestial growls. Matt’s excited whimpers punctuated them as extraordinary friction rubbed his cumspot. He was trying to move, to simultaneously thrust against Avir and escape him as overwhelming rapture seized his senses. Avir held him prisoner, thrusting faster by the second.
His rhythm faltered. A noise, something between a scream and a groan, poured from him as his cock jolted inside Matt. Avir fell over him, his body blanketing the smaller man, managing to brace himself on his hands and not crush Matt as he came and came, his seed flowing out to paint the backs of Matt’s thighs.
Matt shuddered beneath him, his own eagerness clamoring for release. Caged beneath the Dramok, he could only crouch in place as his lover moaned at each surge.
It was at least a minute before Avir drew free with a sigh. He rolled Matt onto his back.
All three of them were there, crowding around him, hands and mouths eager. They fondled and kissed him from head to trembling cock, moving and trading places so Matt was never sure who was doing what to him. Lips and teeth and fingers tugged, tongues licked. They performed a lustful feast on him, and when he writhed helplessly under the assault, they held him down and loved him harder.
They wrung devastating climax from him, ignoring his flailing to take him as high as he could go. For an eternity, there was a kaleidoscope of dark faces above him, his vibrant cries, the spicy scent of Kalquorian passion, the taste of Avir still on his tongue, and the violent uproar of desire fighting free of him.
Then there was warmth of bodies gathering him between them, of lips kissing his sweaty brow, of caresses gentling the chaotic clamoring. Matt fell from the heights they’d driven him to, and they were there to catch him in comforting arms.
“Where did you go?” Matt asked when Masok hurried in the room, his face flushed. “The transport home leaves in an hour.”
“I know, I know, but we passed a store yesterday I wanted to check out…Matt, I found the best jacket for you, a rare vintage designer piece you won’t believe. You have to go with me to see if it fits.”
“Do we have time?” Matt was packed, but he sat with his open guitar case, mooning over the Rickenbacker. He’d been staring at it and dreaming of the moment he’d play it. It was a lot more fun than trying on a jacket.
“If our clanmates will carry our things to the spaceport for us.” Masok’s tone turned wheedling as he smiled at Avir. “Please? We’ll meet you at the terminal.”
Avir chuckled. “I think we can manage. It’s one bin each.”
“And my guitar,” Matt said, his tone testy. He was grouchy from little sleep and no stim tabs to wake him up properly. He didn’t want a jacket, no matter how nice or rare it was. He wanted to carry his Rickenbacker himself, to be close to it every step of the way.
“Go, or you’ll never hear the end of it,” Kom muttered to him. “Avir spent too little on your guitar for them to consider it a proper clanning present.”
“Fine.” Matt snapped the case shut, then yelped when Avir, hurrying past to get to a shirt he’d left hanging on the back of a chair, nearly stomped it.
“Sorry.”
Matt rolled his eyes and hoped there’d be a convenient cup of coffee along his route soon. He pushed the guitar case halfway beneath the bed, out of the path of Avir’s big blundering feet.
His attitude improved once he and Masok set out. It was a lovely morning, the blue sky overhead blameless. Not only did his Imdiko promise him coffee on the way to the spaceport, but he popped into a store selling stim tabs. Matt’s headache eased almost immediately after the tab dissolved on his tongue, and the groggy heaviness that had dogged him from the moment Kom had shook him awake cleared.
He was delighted by the jacket Masok had discovered. It had been fashioned on Joshada, the planet known for being the best when it came to handcrafted goods. The leather was sapphire blue. It sported a collar that stood up instead of lying flat, and the back was long, trailing to Matt’s knees. Its coolness factor was on par with what the men of many bands like Casual Innuendo wore.
“I can’t believe there’s someone else out there my size,” he said as he turned in front of the mirror. It looked as if it had been sewn just for him, and its color brought out his eyes. He loved it. It would look amazing the next time he played at Den of the Departed.
