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Marcello’s cock is the biggest. By far—even more so than Santino’s. This is unexpected, because Santino towers over him, but sometimes life surprises you.
Santino’s is the second biggest. I adore it—he’s uncut like Marcello, and it’s hard and thick as hell.
Lazaro’s dick—well, I can’t stop staring at the tip. Like me, he’s cut. I don't know why he is and his brothers aren’t, but that’s a question that can wait for another day.
I stroke Marcello’s cock, in awe of the way his foreskin rolls up and covers his glans, then slides back down.
His balls, those mighty things, press against his hairy taint, full and quivering.
A lusty growl escapes him, one that goes straight to the pleasure receptors in my brain.
"Wrap those pretty fingers around my trunk. Yeah, boy—the Lord didn’t give you a hand like that to keep to yourself. Your touch is Heaven. You’re a motherfucking angel—one I’m going to spoil."
Santino’s dick rises between his legs, his foreskin peeling back. "Looks my cock thinks you’re the hottest toy I’ve ever been with."
Lazaro swirls his fingers around my left nipple, squeezing it, pinching it, before moving his hand to my right.
I whine, clenching my toned thighs together, electricity shooting across my chest like lightning.
That’s when Santino dips down—and rams his face in my hole.
The sensation is too much to bear. With a scream, I toss my head back, not fighting the fact that it’s resting on the muddy, grassy bank, as Santino’s hot, possessive tongue swirls around my channel walls.
He pumps my cock with his left hand, stroking as he eats me out, igniting dual sensations in my body.
Marcello grinds into my right palm even harder. "Let your worries go, boy. You’re hot as hell—hotter than any other fucking person we’ve ever met. My dick has never been this hard. I can’t control my fucking desire around you."
A strand of sticky pre-cum shoots out of his cock and slams into my ribs.
I groan, quivering from the blend of lustful feelings, working my hole against Santino’s tongue.
It’s so. Fucking. Hot.
These men—these three steeds—are rock-hard for me, obsessed with my body, unable to tone down their chorus of need.
Lazaro tweaks my left nipple yet again. "Stick your left hand out, boy. Stroke me like you’re stroking Marcello."
I do as he says—he may be into tea parties, but he is my Daddy, after all.
He plants his cut shaft in my hand, which instantly causes my own dick to twitch.
"Look at it." Lazaro’s voice is firm. Deep. Brimming with authority. "Look at my cock in your fingers."
I do it—turn my eyes toward the sight. Oh—oh.It’s more beautiful than I expected.
Lazaro’s dick twitches and shakes, the pink tip swelling and spitting out pre-cum.
All at once, I know I can’t take it anymore. Not for a goddamn second.
I’m going to hit my release—fuck knows how it’s happening so soon, but it is.
I grip Santino’s shoulders. "Can’t hold on much longer!"
Santino growls as he plunges his tongue deep as fuck into my hole, greedy grunts escaping him, passionately swirling it up, down, before tickling my prostate.
"Come for us." Marcello’s voice doesn’t quaver. "Let it out—let us see."
Squeezing Marcello and Lazaro’s cocks, I scrunch my eyes shut—and let it rip.
