Jeff, looked at Jared and said I think you’re going to like this surprise. His thumb hovered over the contact labeled "D-Block", "Gonna introduce you to my old cell mate," Jeff rasped, pressing the FaceTime button. The dial tone pulsed like a slow heartbeat, each trill syncing with Jared’s hitching breaths.
Donald answered on the third ring, his pixelated grin filling the screen – still looking good for his 60’s, his huge 6’5 frame and big beefy belly were on full display. His skin dark black,thick-necked, shaved head with a salt and pepper goatee, and a spiderweb tattoo creeping up his throat. "Well goddamn," Donald drawled, eyes flickering between Jeff’s bare chest and Jared’s frozen terror. "Looks like you’re having fun Jeff, what can I do you for?"
Jeff angled the camera downward with deliberate slowness, letting Donald take in Jasper’s naked form sprawled on the filthy floor—knees spread wide, thighs trembling, the glistening mess of Jeff’s cum oozing from his fluttering hole. "Teaching my nephews some manners," Jeff said, pressing a finger against Jasper’s swollen rim, spreading it obscenely for the camera. Jasper whimpered, the stretch stinging as fresh rivulets of semen dripped out. "They forgot how to treat family right."
Donald whistled low, leaning closer to the screen, his tongue darting over chapped lips. "Fuck, Jeff. That’s a tight little lesson." Jasper shuddered as Jeff’s fingers circled his abused entrance, gathering the slick and smearing it back inside with a cruel twist. The sensation was dizzying—burning stretch, the shameful wetness, the way his body clenched instinctively around nothing.
Jeff tilted the screen toward Jared, letting Donald drink in the way Jared’s throat worked, the sweat glistening on his collarbones, the way his knees pressed together reflexively. "See that?" Jeff murmured, thumb stroking Jasper’s twitching hole. "Thought you might wanna break him in proper—consider it interest on the years of protection you gave me in the yard."
Donald exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening around his phone. The screen distorted as he leaned closer, the spiderweb tattoo stretching grotesquely. "You serious?" His tongue darted out again.
Jeff pressed his finger deeper into Jasper’s abused rim, watching the muscle clench involuntarily around nothing. "Dead serious," he murmured. "Jared’s mine when I want him." Jasper choked on a sob beneath him, thighs trembling violently where they splayed across the floor. "But I’m feeling generous today and want to pay my debt.”
Donald’s grin widened, he licked his lips again. "Shit, Jeff," he chuckled, the sound raspy with arousal. "I’d love to, but you know my husband—possessive bastard. Doesn’t like sharing me with anyone else." His gaze flicked back to Jared’s frozen form, taking in the way he shuddered with each panicked breath. "Unless..."
Jeff’s fingers tightened in Jasper’s hair, yanking his head back further. Jasper gasped, the tendons in his throat standing taut against Jeff’s grip. "Unless what?" Jeff growled, thumb stroking the hollow of Jasper’s throat—a mockery of tenderness.
Donald’s grin sharpened, the screen pixelating as he leaned closer. "Unless I can share him with my husband," he purred, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial rasp. "You remember Tyrell—skin like molasses, wears my sweatshirts like dresses, could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch?"
The screen jostled violently before refocusing on a slender figure lounging in the background—Tyrell, draped in an oversized hoodie that swallowed his delicate frame, his cocoa-brown thighs peeking from beneath the hem. His manicured fingers paused mid-stroke over his phone screen, his almond-shaped eyes flicking up with feline disinterest. Then his gaze locked onto Jared’s, trembling form, and his plump lips parted in a slow, knowing smirk. "Oh," he murmured, his voice honey-thick and dripping with faux innocence. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his free hand sliding languidly beneath the hoodie’s waistband. "Mmm. Looks like we better accept this debt, baby” Tyrell said to Donald and then chuckled. “Besides, I always wanted a white jock to play with.”
Tyrell leaned forward, the hoodie slipping off one caramel shoulder. "Tell me," he purred, fingers tracing idle circles on his own collarbone. "That pretty mouth ever been used properly? Or just for whining?" Jared’s throat convulsed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against nothing. Jeff chuckled, low and dark, his free hand sliding down to grip Jared’s jaw, forcing it slack. "That mouth is always whining but he does suck a cock exceptionally well," Jeff taunted, thumb pressing against Jared’s bottom lip, dragging it down obscenely.
Jared snarled, twisting violently—knocking Jeff’s thumb away with a sharp jerk of his chin. "Fuck you, faggot," he spat, voice cracking mid-insult. The words hung between them, sharp as shattered glass. For a heartbeat, the room froze—Jasper’s ragged breathing hitched, Donald’s pixelated grin stuttered, Tyrell’s manicured fingers paused mid-stroke. Then Jeff moved—blinding fast—backhanding Jared hard enough to send him sprawling onto his back. White stars exploded behind Jared’s eyelids, the metallic tang of blood flooding his mouth from a split lip.
Tyrell’s laughter crackled through the phone—rich, amused, utterly unoffended. "Mmm, *feisty*," he purred, fingertips tracing his own parted lips. "Bet he bites, too." Jared panted through clenched teeth, chest heaving, the cold floor biting into his bare shoulder blades. Jeff loomed over him.
"Watch your mouth, *bitch*, or I’ll beat your ass and then send daddy the tape of you and Jasper”, Jeff growled, pressing his bare foot against Jared’s sternum—slowly increasing pressure. Jared gasped, fingers scrabbling uselessly at Jeff’s sweat-slick ankle.
On the screen, Tyrell arched one meticulously plucked eyebrow, his tongue tracing the seam of his lips as he watched Jared struggle. "Sunday," Jeff said, stretching the word like taffy. "Family service at Mount Zion Baptist—pastor’s the father of my oldest nephew's(Michael’s) girlfriend and my brother and his family go every Sunday. "And after? Well." His grin widened, all teeth. "Jared can welcome you both to the church. I know how Donald likes a little public play.
The next day…
"Mount Zion Baptist, the eleven service," Jeff said, flipping the steak on the grill with a sizzle that drowned out Jared's choked protest. He didn't look up, just kept pressing the spatula down hard enough to make the meat weep juices onto the flames—same way he’d pressed Jasper’s face into the mattress last night, his nephew’s muffled sobs harmonizing with the bedsprings. Jeff’s sister-in-law, Rachel, blinked over her lemonade, ice cubes clinking like loose teeth. "You... invited friends to church?" Her voice frayed at the edges, the way Jared’s boxers had when Jeff ripped them off with one hand.
Rachel’s husband, Matt—Jeff’s brother—grunted from his lawn chair, barbecue sauce glistening on his chin. "That’s great ," he muttered, eyes glazed from Bud Light and sunstroke. Jeff smirked, watching Jared stiffen where he sat at the picnic table, his thighs sticking to seat. Rachel beamed, oblivious, her sundress fluttering like a white flag in the breeze. "Maybe they’ll find salvation," she sighed, and Jeff had to bite his tongue so hard he tasted copper.
"They’re gonna meet here and drive with us," Jeff said casually, flipping another burger with a wet slap. Rachel’s smile wilted at the edges. "I was hoping to borrow the extra black Tahoe," Jeff added, nodding toward Matt’s prized SUV glinting in the driveway. "That alright?"
Rachel’s fingers tightened around her lemonade glass, condensation dripping onto her floral sundress. "But... why do you need the SUV when it’s just three of you?" The words hung in the air between them. Jared’s knee jerked under the picnic table, knocking Jasper’s—his twin brother hissed through clenched teeth, the sound swallowed by the sizzle of fat hitting charcoal.
Jeff scraped the spatula across the grill, slow and deliberate, like he was skinning something alive. "Well, Jared and Jasper said they’d drive with us," he said, voice syrup-thick with feigned nonchalance. "Sit with us in the back to welcome my friends." The twins’ shoulders tensed in unison—identical muscles corded beneath identical tans, Jared’s fingers digging into Jasper’s thigh hard enough to leave marks.
Rachel blinked, her sundress fluttering as she shifted uncomfortably on the picnic bench. "Umm, I don’t know," she murmured, ice clinking nervously in her glass. "We always sit as a family."
Jasper leaned forward before Jared could protest, his grin too wide, too practiced—the same one he'd worn last night while Jeff’s fingers twisted in his hair. "Come on, Mom," Jasper chirped, knuckles whitening around his lemonade, the condensation dripping onto his shorts like the sweat still drying between his thighs. "We *want* to help welcome them." Jared’s stomach lurched at the rehearsed cadence, the way Jasper’s voice hitched exactly where Jeff had taught him—high and breathy, just like when he’d begged.
Alright," Rachel said finally, her smile fraying at the edges like sun-bleached fabric. "If it’s what the boys want." Jared’s throat constricted—her trust was a noose, and Jasper had just kicked the stool out from under them both.
The morning of service, Jared stood in front of his closet mirror adjusting his tie with trembling fingers, the starched collar digging into his throat like a promise of things to come. The pink jockstrap Jeff had tossed at him last night on under his nice chinos lay like a brand—the elastic cutting into his hips, the pouch cradling him with obscene precision.
Donald and Terrell arrived in pressed slacks and crisp button-downs, looking like respectable churchgoers—if you ignored the way Donald’s crucifix nestled in the shadow of his spiderweb throat tattoo. Jeff greeted them with exaggerated handshakes.
Michael’s lip curled as Jeff introduced his “friends from the old neighborhood.” “Great,” Michael muttered under his breath, flicking his gaze between Donald’s massive hands and Tyrell’s delicate fingers. “Just fucking great. I’m going to be so embarrassed if front of Emily’s dad”.
“That’s why we will be in the back, away from everyone. We don’t want to have everyone looking at us either”, Jeff said.
“Alright then time to get going” Rachel said as she fussed with the collar of Jared’s shirt, oblivious to the way he flinched at her touch. “You boys behave back there,” she chirped, smoothing Jasper’s tie with maternal pride. Jasper’s smile twitched.
Jeff guided Jared toward the Tahoe and with a grip that looked paternal to anyone watching—just an uncle steering his nephew. Jared’s breath hitched as Donald’s bulk filled the seat beside him, the leather creaking ominously under his weight. Tyrell slid in on Jared’s other side, his thigh pressing warm against Jared’s even through the fabric of their slacks. The scent of Donald’s sandalwood cologne mixed with Tyrell’s vanilla body wash, cloying and thick in the confined space.
Jeff started the engine, the low rumble vibrating through Jareds thighs. Rachel waved from the their car, as they pulled out ahead of them. Donald exhaled a chuckle beside Jared, his thick forearm pressing warm against Jared’s bicep. "Bet you never thought you’d be riding to church like this," he murmured, fingers drumming on the leather seat—closer to Jared’s hip with every tap. Tyrell shifted subtly, his knee brushing Jared’s with deliberate slowness, the friction sending sparks up Jared’s spine despite the layers of fabric.
The Tahoe hit a bump, and Donald used the jolt to lean in, his breath hot against Jared’s ear—sandalwood and spearmint gum. "Gonna wreck that pretty white hole," he whispered, low enough that only Jared could hear, his tongue flicking out to trace the shell of Jared’s ear before pulling back. Jared’s stomach twisted, his fingers clenching against his thighs, the jockstrap’s elastic biting into his skin like a brand.
"Unbutton," Donald murmured, the word barely louder than the creak of the Tahoe's leather seats, his breath hot against Jared's ear—not a request, but a fact, like gravity or scripture. Jared's fingers twitched against his thighs, the starched fabric of his Sunday slacks suddenly oppressive, the pink jockstrap beneath digging into his hips like a sinner's brand. Tyrell's manicured nails traced idle circles on Jared's knee, his touch light, but the pressure built like a hymn swelling toward crescendo. "Go on," Tyrell purred.
The button gave with a muffled *pop*—Jared's exhale shuddered out as the waistband loosened, the cool air of the SUV whispering against the sweat-damp skin beneath. Donald's chuckle vibrated through Jared's shoulder where their arms pressed together, his massive thigh shifting to bracket Jared's trembling leg. "Good boy," Donald rumbled, the praise curling like smoke in Jared's gut, thick and choking. Tyrell's fingers slid higher, skating up the inseam with deliberate slowness, his pinky catching on the elastic of the jockstrap—*twang*—the sound obscenely loud in the quiet hum of the Tahoe's engine.
Tyrell leaned in, his breath warm against Jared's jawline, smelling of spearmint gum and something darker, muskier. "Mmm, look at you," he murmured, fingers tracing the outline of Jared's cock through the thin fabric, already half-hard despite the terror twisting his stomach. "All trussed up like a Sunday roast." His thumb pressed down just shy of cruel, the jockstrap's pouch straining as Jared's body betrayed him, swelling under the attention. Donald's hand covered Tyrell's, guiding it—*squeezing*—and Jared bit back a whimper as the pressure bordered on pain.
The zipper hissed open beneath Tyrell's fingers like a serpent uncoiling, each tooth parting with deliberate slowness. Cool air licked at Jared's overheated skin, his hips twitching involuntarily as Tyrell's knuckles brushed the bare strip of flesh above the jockstrap. "Ohhh, baby," Tyrell crooned, hooking a finger under the elastic waistband, stretching it away from Jared's trembling abdomen. The snapback stung, the pink fabric clinging to damp skin before Tyrell peeled it down just enough to expose the flushed head of Jared's cock, already glistening. "Bet you've never been taken apart on the way to church before," he whispered, thumb smearing precome in slow circles.
Donald shifted next to Jared, his chest pressing flush against Jared's shoulder, the heat of him searing through starched cotton. His chuckle vibrated against Jared's neck as Tyrell worked the slacks down past jittery knees. "We don't got much time before that holy roller parking lot," Tyrell murmured, nipping at Jared's earlobe. His fingers traced the angry red marks left by the jockstrap's grip—each indent a perfect half-moon of shame. "So be a good slut," he breathed, palm sliding up Jared's inner thigh, fingers spidering higher, "and let Daddy see what Jeff's been keeping from us."
Jared snarled—a sound ripped from his gut—and twisted violently, slamming his elbow back into Donald's ribs. The impact jarred Donald's grip loose enough for Jared to lurch forward, scrambling for the door handle with slick fingers. Tyrell gasped as Jared's heel connected with his shin, the sharp crack of bone-on-bone lost beneath Donald's curse. Jared's slacks bunched at his ankles as he clawed at his waistband, yanking the fabric up over his hips.
Donald's fingers tangled in Jared's hair with brutal precision, wrenching him backward with enough force to snap his head against the seat. Jared's vision blurred—white spots dancing—as Donald dragged him flush against his chest. "Thought you had this bitch under control, Jeff," Donald growled, his free hand clamping over Jared's mouth, muffling his ragged panting. Jared bucked wildly, his hips grinding against the crushing weight of Donald's thigh, the friction sending shameful sparks up his spine.
Jeff slammed the brakes without warning, the Tahoe fishtailing onto the shoulder with a spray of gravel. Jeff twisted in his seat, phone already in hand. The screen flickered to life—Jared's own choked moans filling the SUV as the video played, Jeff's cock pistoning between Jasper's spread thighs. "One more fucking issue," Jeff hissed, thrusting the phone inches from Jared's face, "and this goes straight to Daddy Dearest's inbox."
Tyrell's fingers tightened around Jared's wrist—not restraining, but guiding—as he pressed Jared's palm flat against the bulge straining Donald's slacks. The heat radiating through the fabric seared Jared's skin, the thick outline twitching under his touch. Donald exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip on Jared's hair loosening just enough to turn into a caress. "Now," Tyrell murmured against Jared's throat, his free hand slipping beneath the twisted waistband of Jared's pants, "are you gonna be a good boy?" His fingers found Jared's cock, already leaking against the jockstrap's ruined silk.
The Tahoe lurched back onto the highway as Jeff accelerated, the sudden motion forcing Jared's hips forward—while Tyrell's grip tightened around his cock in one fluid motion. Jared's gasp was swallowed by Donald's palm, his body arching against the conflicting sensations: the rough drag of Tyrell's thumb over his slit, the unforgiving pressure of Donald's thigh against his ass, the sickening thrill of Jeff watching in the rearview mirror. Tyrell chuckled, low and dark and slapped Jared’s cheek. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do, so to make it up to us, you’re going to get those slacks off right now.”.
Jared pushed his slacks down as they were still unbuttoned from before, the fabric pooling at his knees. Tyrell yanked them off his legs with a sharp tug, the friction burning against Jared’s skin as the jockstrap’s straps dug deeper into his thighs—leaving red welts that pulsed in time with his racing heartbeat.
Donald’s fingers tightened possessively around Jared’s jaw, tilting his face toward the rearview mirror where Jeff’s smirking reflection watched. “There we go,” Tyrell murmured, his breath hot against Jared’s bare hip as he hooked a manicured finger under the waistband of the jockstrap. The elastic snapped against Jared’s flushed skin, the sting sharp enough to make him jerk—but Donald’s grip held firm, forcing him still. “Now show my husband your pretty jock pussy,” With a brutal shove, Donald propelled Jared forward, his face colliding with Tyrell’s crotch—the musky heat of him seeping through crisp church slacks, the unmistakable outline of Tyrell’s cock pressing against Jared’s lips. Jared gasped against the fabric, his leg yanked up onto the seat as Donald manhandled him into position, fingers kneading the plush swell of his ass with rough appreciation. Donald spread him wider, the cold leather of the seat sticking to Jared’s trembling thighs.
“Look at you,” Tyrell purred, palming Jared’s cheek with one hand while the other worked his own belt loose—the metallic clink of the buckle punctuating Jared’s ragged breaths. Donald’s spit hit Jared’s exposed hole with a wet slap, the sudden chill making him jerk—Tyrell’s fingers tangled in his hair, holding him still as the saliva trickled down his taint in a slow, shameful trail. Donald’s thumb followed, smearing the spit in rough circles around Jared’s rim, the pressure just shy of breaching—each rotation sending jolts of unwanted sensation up Jared’s spine, his cock twitching traitorously against the jockstrap’s ruined silk.
The Tahoe hit another bump, jostling Jared forward—Tyrell’s zipper scraped his chin, the denim rough against his skin as Donald chose that moment to press in, his thumb breaching Jared with a cruel twist. Jared’s choked cry was muffled against Tyrell’s crotch, his hips bucking involuntarily—Donald chuckled darkly, his other hand splaying across Jared’s lower back to keep him arched, his thumb pistoning in shallow, taunting thrusts. “Fuck, he’s tight,” Donald muttered, the words thick with arousal—Tyrell hummed in agreement, his fingers tightening in Jared’s hair as he finally freed himself from his slacks, the thick, musky scent of him flooding Jared’s senses.
Tyrell’s cock brushed Jared’s lips—hot, heavy, the velvety skin damp with precome. Jared flinched back instinctively, but Donald’s grip on his ass tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise, his thumb still working Jared open with relentless precision. “Open,” Tyrell commanded, tapping Jared’s mouth with the head of his cock—the salty tang of him already smeared across Jared’s lips. Jared’s throat convulsed—Tyrell’s smirk was audible in his voice. “Or do you want Jeff to send that video to your daddy right now? Mid-fuck, maybe? Bet Jasper’s pretty moans would really sell it.”
The SUV hit a pothole, jolting Jared forward—Tyrell’s cock slid past his lips, the thick head bumping the back of his throat. Jared gagged, tears springing to his eyes as Tyrell’s fingers tightened in his hair, holding him still. Donald’s thumb pressed deeper, the stretch bordering on unbearable—Jared’s hole clenched around nothing, his cock twitching pathetically against the jockstrap’s ruined silk. Tyrell exhaled sharply above him, hips rolling forward in shallow thrusts, the blunt head of his cock nudging Jared’s tonsils with each movement. “There you go,” Tyrell murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. “Just like that—take it like a good church boy.”
Donald’s chuckle vibrated through Jared’s spine as he leaned in, his breath hot against Jared’s exposed cleft. The first swipe of his tongue was electric—broad and wet, tracing Jared’s hole with agonizing slowness. Jared shuddered, the sensation too much—too intimate—his muffled whimper lost against Tyrell’s cock. Donald’s tongue circled again, pressing just inside—Jared’s thighs trembled, his hands scrabbling uselessly against the leather seat. Donald’s grip tightened on his hips, pulling him back—forcing Jared’s ass higher as his tongue delved deeper, the slick heat of it unbearable.
Tyrell’s fingers tightened in Jared’s hair, his hips rolling forward—forcing Jared to take more, his cock bumping the back of Jared’s throat. Jared gagged, his body jerking—but Donald didn’t stop, his tongue working Jared open with relentless precision, each flick and press sending sparks up Jared’s spine. The wet sounds were obscene—echoing in the confined space—and Jared’s cock twitched traitorously, precome soaking the ruined jockstrap. Donald groaned against him—low and satisfied—the vibration making Jared clench around nothing, his hole fluttering against Donald’s tongue.
Jeff’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he glanced back—watching Jared’s lips stretch around Tyrell’s cock, his ass spread obscenely wide for Donald’s mouth. "Almost there," Jeff murmured, voice rough, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. Jared’s stomach twisted—half-terror, half-shame—as Tyrell’s fingers dug deeper into his scalp, guiding his head in slow, deliberate bobs. Donald’s spit dripped down Jared’s taint—warm and slick—his tongue pushing deeper with every thrust, the muscle thick and relentless as it breached him again and again. Jared’s thighs shook—his knees digging into the seat—the leather creaking beneath him as Donald pulled him back harder.
Tyrell’s groan vibrated through Jared’s skull—deep and satisfied—as Jared’s throat fluttered around him, the involuntary clench drawing a ragged curse from Tyrell’s lips. "Fuck, he’s greedy," Tyrell muttered, his free hand tracing Jared’s jawline—thumb pressing into the hollow of his cheek, feeling the stretch of his lips. Donald’s chuckle was muffled against Jared’s ass—his beard scraping sensitive skin—before he sucked hard, the sudden pressure making Jared jerk forward with a muffled cry. The SUV lurched—Jared’s balance faltered—and Tyrell took full advantage, thrusting deeper, the head of his cock nudging Jared’s throat in a way that should’ve made him gag, but instead sent a pulse of slick heat straight to his groin.
Donald’s tongue pressed in again—deeper this time—his hands spreading Jared wider, thumbs kneading the plush flesh of his ass like dough. The stretch burned—too much, too fast—but Jared’s cock throbbed in the ruined jockstrap, precome soaking the silk where it clung to his skin. Tyrell’s fingers tightened in Jared’s hair, forcing his head down—nose brushing coarse curls—as Tyrell rocked his hips in shallow, relentless thrusts. Jared’s vision blurred—tears spilling over—the salt of them mingling with the musk of Tyrell’s skin, the bitter tang of precome on his tongue.
Jeff’s voice cut through the haze—sharp as a switchblade—as the Tahoe slowed. "Church lot," he announced, the words crisp with amusement. Jared’s stomach lurched—Donald’s tongue still working him open, Tyrell’s cock still nudging his throat—as gravel crunched beneath the tires. Jeff chuckled—low and dark—his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. "Better make yourselves presentable, boys."
Tyrell groaned—reluctant—but pulled Jared off with a wet *pop*, his cock glistening with spit in the sudden sunlight. Jared gasped—air scraping his raw throat—as Donald gave one last, lingering lick—slow, filthy—before releasing his grip. Jared slumped forward—forehead pressed to the leather seat—his body trembling, his hole clenching around nothing.
Jeff tossed Jared’s crumpled slacks into his lap without looking—his gaze fixed on Rachel’s approaching figure—her sundress fluttering as she wove between parked cars. Jared fumbled- as he yanked the fabric up his legs, the jockstrap still riding high, the strap digging into his cleft. Tyrell smirked—adjusting himself with lazy strokes—while Donald wiped his beard on Jared’s discarded tie, the silk dark with spit.
"Fix yourself," Jeff muttered, flicking the locks open—the sound final as a coffin lid. Rachel’s shadow fell across the window—her knuckles tapped the glass—and Jared’s pulse spiked as Donald leaned in, his breath hot against Jared’s ear: "Later," he growled, fingers tracing the outline of Jared’s ruined jockstrap through the slacks, "I’m sinking into that pussy so deep you’ll taste me for weeks." Jared shuddered—the words slithering down his spine—as Tyrell chuckled, licking a stray droplet from his thumb.
Rachel yanked the door open—sunlight flooding the backseat—and Jared flinched at the sudden brightness, his pupils contracting painfully. "Oh, honey," Rachel clucked, her fingers darting to his rumpled collar before he could recoil. Her touch burned—too innocent, too maternal—against skin still buzzing from Donald’s beard. "You’re all flushed," she murmured, smoothing his tie with oblivious hands, her wedding band catching the light as it brushed his throat. Jared’s stomach twisted—her perfume floral and wrong after the musk of men.
Jeff herded them toward the church steps with broad shoulders and a wider grin, his palm pressed proprietarily between Donald’s shoulder blades. Tyrell lingered behind—his sleeves rolled up to expose delicate wrists—but his gaze tracked Jared like a hawk circling prey, his tongue darting out to wet his lips at the sight of Jared’s slack covered ass.
Rachel beamed at the greeter in her floral dress, oblivious to the way Jeff steered their group toward the dim alcove beneath the balcony—where shadow swallowed pews whole and the hymn books smelled of mildew. Jared’s slacks clung damply to his thighs, the jockstrap’s strap riding up with every step—a cruel reminder of the spit still slick between his cheeks. Tyrell slid into the pew first, his thigh pressing flush against Jared’s the moment he sat, while Donald’s bulk boxed him in on the other side.
The pastor's voice boomed through the sanctuary, his sermon on purity rising in pitch just as Tyrell's fingers slid onto Jared’s thighs. Jared stiffened, his knuckles whitening around the hymnal, the pages crumpling under his grip as Donald's knee pressed against his thigh, the heat of it searing through the thin fabric of his slacks.
Tyrell’s thumb traced slow circles on Jared’s inner knee—each pass creeping higher. Jared’s breath hitched, his ribs tightening as Donald leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Jared’s ear. "Bet you’re still wet from the ride," Donald murmured, voice thick with amusement, his breath hot enough to make Jared’s pulse stutter. The pastor’s words blurred into static—something about righteousness—as Tyrell’s slid up Jared’s thigh to the button on his slacks. Jared reached out and grabbed Tyrell’s hand before he could pop the button open but Tyrell just chuckled “careful now, we wouldn’t want Uncle Jeff to think you’re being difficult”. Jared looked over at his uncle who was busy feeling up his twin brother and knew he was going to get no help, so he released Tyrell’s hand. Tyrell smiled “that’s a good boy” he said as he popped the button on his slacks open.
Jared’s thighs tensed—Tyrell’s fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his slacks, as Donald’s palm slid up his spine, pressing him forward. The pew creaked—subtle, swallowed by the choir’s sudden crescendo—as Tyrell tugged, the fabric sliding down Jared’s hips just enough to expose the ruined silk of his jockstrap, still damp with spit and precome. Jared’s fingers dug into the hymnal—pages tearing—as Donald’s hands nudged his thighs apart. "Look at that," Tyrell breathed, his thumb hooking under the jockstrap’s strap, tracing the soaked silk where it clung to Jared’s cock head.
Donald’s chuckle was low, his fingers skating up Jared’s ribs beneath his shirt—cold against sweat-slick skin—as the pastor’s voice swelled with righteous fervor. Jared’s pulse hammered—too loud, he was sure—as Tyrell’s fingers tugged the jockstrap lower, exposing Jared’s flushed cock to the stale church air. The elastic snapped against Jared’s thigh—sharp, stinging—as Donald’s fingers pinched his nipple through his dress shirt, the fabric scraping sensitive skin. Jared bit his lip—hard—the metallic tang of blood blooming on his tongue as Tyrell’s thumb swiped over his slit, smearing precome down his shaft with deliberate slowness.
Jared’s gaze darted across the pews—desperate—but the congregation was rapt, eyes fixed on the pulpit, hymnals clutched in pious hands. Rachel’s fingers tapped rhythmically against her knee—oblivious—while Jeff’s smirk deepened as Jasper squirmed beside him, his own slacks undone beneath the hymnal balanced precariously on his lap. Jared’s breath hitched—Tyrell’s fingers tightening around his cock—as Donald leaned in, his beard scraping Jared’s neck. "No one’s looking," Donald murmured, voice thick with amusement, his teeth grazing Jared’s earlobe. "Except maybe God—and He loves a repentant sinner."
Just then Jared felt Donald’s fingers travel down the crack of his ass as he told him to lift up—the command soft, mocking, as his fingertips traced the damp cleft where spit still glistened. Jared trembled—his thighs tensing—but obeyed, lifting his hips just enough for Donald’s fingers to slip beneath him, the rough pads of his fingertips skating over Jared’s hole with deliberate slowness. The stretch burned—too soon, too much—but Donald’s chuckle vibrated against Jared’s spine as he pressed in, the tip of his middle finger breaching Jared with a slow, cruel twist. Jared’s vision blurred—his cock twitching in Tyrell’s grip—as Donald’s finger worked deeper, the knuckle catching on his rim with every shallow thrust.
Tyrell’s breath ghosted over Jared’s cock—hot, uneven—before his lips closed around the head with a wet, obscene sound that drowned out the pastor’s prayer. Jared gasped—his hips jerking—but Donald’s free hand clamped down on his thigh, pinning him in place as Tyrell sucked, his tongue swirling beneath the crown in slow, relentless circles. The sensation was unbearable—wet heat engulfing his cock while Donald’s finger pistoned in and out of him—and Jared’s fingers clawed at the pew, the wood groaning beneath his grip. Donald’s thumb circled his rim—stretching him wider—as Tyrell hollowed his cheeks, the suction pulling a ragged moan from Jared’s throat.
In the front row, Rachel’s hymnal slipped from her lap—the dull thud swallowed by the organ’s swell—and Jared’s gaze locked onto her as she bent to retrieve it, her sundress gaping at the neckline. His stomach twisted—half-terror, half-guilty arousal—as she straightened, smoothing her dress, her eyes never straying from the pulpit. Donald’s chuckle vibrated against his spine—low, triumphant—as he crooked his finger, the rough pad of it dragging against Jared’s prostate with brutal precision. Jared’s vision whited out—his cock pulsing in Tyrell’s mouth—but no one turned, no one glanced back, the congregation’s voices rising in perfect, oblivious harmony.
Tyrell pulled off with a filthy *pop*, his lips slick with spit and precome, his breath hot against Jared’s twitching cock. "Look at him," Tyrell murmured, thumbing the swollen head—the touch featherlight, teasing—as Donald pressed a second finger in alongside the first, the stretch making Jared’s thighs tremble. "So fucking pretty," Tyrell breathed, his free hand skating up Jared’s ribs, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to trace the frantic flutter of his heartbeat. Jared’s breath hitched—his hips jerking forward—but Donald’s grip on his thigh tightened, fingers digging into the muscle hard enough to bruise, the pain grounding him even as Tyrell’s lips closed around him again, swallowing him down to the root.
Donald’s fingers scissored inside him—slow, deliberate—the stretch bordering on unbearable, the friction igniting sparks along Jared’s spine. Jared’s cock throbbed in Tyrell’s mouth—each pulse matched by the insistent press of Donald’s knuckles against his rim—his vision blurring at the edges as the organ’s swell drowned out his choked whimpers. Donald’s beard scraped the nape of Jared’s neck—rough, possessive—his voice a dark murmur against Jared’s ear: "Bet you’d come untouched if we kept you like this," he mused, fingers curling just so, the pressure against Jared’s prostate sharp enough to make his toes curl in his loafers. Jared’s hips stuttered—his cock twitching against Tyrell’s tongue—as the pastor’s benediction echoed through the rafters, the words dripping with righteousness even as Tyrell’s throat convulsed around him.
Jared’s breath hitched—his fingers clawing at the pew—as Tyrell pulled off just enough to swirl his tongue beneath the crown, the wet heat of it maddening, the suction relentless. Donald’s fingers pistoned deeper—the stretch blooming into something molten—his thumb pressing against Jared’s perineum with bruising force. Jared’s thighs trembled—his slacks pooled around his knees, the jockstrap’s strap biting into his flesh—as Tyrell’s lips sealed around him again, his nose brushing coarse curls, the scent of musk and salt thick in the air. The congregation rose—hymnals clutched in pious hands—oblivious to the way Jared’s spine arched, his cock pulsing in Tyrell’s mouth as Donald’s fingers dragged against his prostate with brutal precision.
Jared’s vision fractured—white-hot pleasure licking up his spine—as Tyrell hollowed his cheeks, the suction pulling a ragged cry from Jared’s throat. Donald’s chuckle vibrated against his neck—dark, satisfied—as he crooked his fingers just so, the pressure sharp enough to make Jared’s toes curl in his loafers. Tyrell’s throat convulsed around him—wet, greedy—his tongue pressing up the underside of Jared’s cock in slow, deliberate strokes. Jared’s stomach tightened—his hips jerking forward—but Donald’s grip on his thigh was iron, pinning him in place as Tyrell sucked him down to the root, his lips stretched obscenely around Jared’s girth.
The organ’s swell drowned out Jared’s choked whimper—his cock pulsing in Tyrell’s mouth—as his climax ripped through him, hot and sudden. Tyrell’s fingers dug into Jared’s hips—anchoring him—as he swallowed, his throat working around Jared’s cock with practiced ease. Jared’s thighs trembled—his slacks pooled around his knees, the jockstrap’s strap biting into his flesh—as Tyrell pulled off with a filthy *pop*, his lips slick with spit and come. Donald’s fingers slowed inside him—the stretch achingly sweet now—his thumb circling Jared’s rim with possessive laziness.
The pastor’s final amen echoed—congregation shuffling—as Donald pulled his fingers out with a cruel twist, the sudden emptiness making Jared’s hole clench around nothing. Jared shuddered—his cock twitching weakly—as Donald leaned in, his beard scraping Jared’s neck. "Pull your slacks back on," Donald murmured, voice rough with amusement, his breath hot against Jared’s ear. "We’ll be leaving soon." Jared’s fingers fumbled—slick with spit—as he yanked the fabric up his legs, the jockstrap still riding high, the strap digging into his cleft.
Tyrell smirked—adjusting himself with lazy strokes—before rising smoothly from the pew, his palm pressing into the small of Jared’s back as he guided him toward the aisle. Jared’s knees buckled—his thighs still trembling—but Tyrell’s grip was firm, his fingers digging into Jared’s hip hard enough to bruise. Rachel beamed at them from the pew—her sundress fluttering—as she gathered her hymnal, oblivious to the way Jared’s slacks clung damply to his thighs, the fabric still stretched tight from Tyrell’s earlier ministrations. Jeff herded them toward the exit—his smirk sharp—as Donald fell into step behind Jared, his bulk boxing him in.
The sunlight hit Jared like a slap—bright, unforgiving—as they spilled onto the church steps, the scent of cut grass and honeysuckle thick in the air. Jared blinked—his pupils contracting painfully—as the reverend materialized from the crowd, his hand extended toward Michael with practiced warmth. Jared’s pulse spiked—his hole still clenching around nothing—as Tyrell’s fingers traced the outline of his ruined jockstrap through his slacks, the touch featherlight, mocking. Donald leaned in—his breath hot against Jared’s neck—as the reverend’s gaze flicked toward them, his smile never wavering. "Smile," Donald murmured, his thumb pressing against Jared’s lower back—right where his spine curved—just hard enough to make Jared stiffen.
Michael’s sneer twisted into something sharper—something venomous—as he stepped forward, his grip on the reverend’s hand tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "Reverend," Michael drawled, voice dripping with false reverence, his free hand gesturing toward Jeff’s approaching figure. "Meet my uncle—and his *friends*." The pause was deliberate—heavy—and Jared’s stomach twisted as the reverend’s gaze slid past Jeff, landing squarely on Jasper, whose swollen lips and rumpled collar told a story the hymnals never would. Tyrell chuckled—low, dark—his fingers tightening on Jared’s hip as the reverend’s smile faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing once, twice, before he swallowed hard.
The reverend’s grip on Michael’s hand went slack—his palm clammy—as Donald stepped into his line of sight, his broad frame blocking the sunlight, his shadow swallowing the reverend whole. Donald’s smirk was slow—predatory—as he reached out, clasping the reverend’s shoulder with a grip that made the man’s knees buckle. "Pleasure," Donald rumbled, his thumb pressing into the reverend’s collarbone hard enough to bruise, his beard scraping the man’s cheek as he leaned in. Jared watched—frozen—as the reverend’s breath hitched, his pupils dilating as Donald’s scent—musky, oppressive—filled his lungs. The reverend’s fingers twitched—his Bible slipping—but Tyrell caught it before it could hit the steps, his fingers brushing the reverend’s wrist in a touch that lingered just a beat too long.
Michael shoved Donald back—hard—his knuckles whitening against Donald’s chest, the force of it making Donald stumble half a step. The crowd murmured—curious, oblivious—as Michael’s lips curled into something sharp, his voice a hiss between clenched teeth: "Hands off." Donald chuckled—low, dark—his fingers tightening on the reverend’s shoulder before he released him, stepping back with deliberate slowness. The reverend swayed—his throat working—as Tyrell handed him his Bible, their fingers brushing again, lingering this time, Tyrell’s thumb tracing the reverend’s pulse point with practiced precision. Jared’s stomach twisted—half-terror, half-recognition—as the reverend’s breath stuttered, his gaze flicking to Tyrell’s mouth before jerking away.
The reverend cleared his throat—too loud, too forced—as he smoothed his robes, the fabric rustling against his trembling fingers. "Nice to meet you all," he stammered, voice cracking on the last word, his Adam’s apple bobbing as Donald’s smirk deepened. "But I must—" he swallowed, his gaze darting to Tyrell’s fingers—still curled loosely around his wrist—before continuing, "say goodbye to everyone else now." The words sounded rehearsed—hollow—his usual eloquence shattered beneath the weight of Donald’s looming shadow, Tyrell’s thumb still pressing into his wrist. Jared’s pulse hammered—his own wrist tingling with phantom memory—as the reverend jerked his hand free, his Bible slipping again, pages fluttering like wounded birds.
The reverend turned abruptly—shoulders hunched—his footsteps too quick on the church steps as he retreated toward the crowd. Michael whirled on Jeff, his fingers digging into his uncle’s forearm hard. "Great," Michael hissed, voice low and venomous, his free hand gesturing sharply toward the reverend’s retreating back. "Now you embarrassed me in front of my future father-in-law." The words dripped with contempt. Jared’s stomach twisted—half in recognition, half in dread—as Jeff merely chuckled, "That’s *Uncle Jeff* to you," Jeff murmured. Michael sneered at Jeff again, “I can always call you a convict if you want”. Rachel stepped in then and said they were making a scene and it be best to all be on the way now.
Jeff’s smirk never wavered—as he strode toward the Tahoe, gravel crunching beneath his oxfords. The promise coiled in his gut—hot, molten—as he watched Michael’s silhouette recede into the church crowd, his shoulders rigid with misplaced righteousness. Jeff’s fingers flexed—once, twice—as he pictured Michael bent over the hood of the Tahoe, his designer slacks pooled around his ankles, Jeff’s belt already loose in his hands. The image burned—bright and vivid—behind his eyelids as he yanked the driver’s side door open, the hinges groaning under the force.
Jared flinched at the sudden noise—his thighs still trembling from Tyrell’s mouth—as Jeff slid into the driver’s seat. The scent of musk and leather flooded the cab—thick, oppressive—as Jeff’s fingers traced the outline of Jasper’s thigh through his ruined slacks, the fabric damp with precome. Jared’s breath hitched—his hole clenching around nothing—as Jeff’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, locking onto Michael’s retreating figure with predatory focus. "Soon," Jeff murmured—low, dark—his thumb pressing into Jasper’s pulse point hard enough to bruise, the promise hanging heavy in the air between them.
Tyrell chuckled—deep, satisfied—as he yanked Jared into the backseat, his grip bruising on Jared’s wrist. The door slammed—metal ringing—and Jared’s stomach lurched as Donald’s hands found his belt, the buckle clinking against the leather seat. Jared’s breath stuttered—his ribs tightening—as Donald’s fingers worked the button of his slacks, the fabric sliding down his hips with deliberate slowness. Tyrell’s smirk was audible in the dark—his fingers tracing the outline of Jared’s jockstrap through the thin silk—before he hooked his thumbs under the straps, peeling them down Jared’s thighs with a cruel twist. "There he is," Tyrell breathed—voice rough with arousal—his palm skating up Jared’s bare flank, the touch possessive, the heat of it branding Jared’s skin.
Jared shuddered—his skin prickling with goosebumps—as Donald’s fingers curled around the hem of his dress shirt, the fabric damp with sweat where it clung to his spine. The buttons popped—one by one—the sound sharp in the confined space, each snap echoing like a gunshot in Jared’s skull. Donald’s breath was hot against Jared’s neck—his beard scraping sensitive skin—as he peeled the shirt off Jared’s shoulders, the fabric catching on his wrists before Tyrell yanked it free. Jared’s chest heaved—his nipples pebbling in the stale air—as Tyrell’s fingers traced the dip of his collarbone, the touch featherlight, mocking. "Pretty, little white jock slut," Tyrell murmured—voice thick with amusement—his thumb brushing Jared’s left nipple, the rough pad of it sending sparks down Jared’s spine. Jared’s breath hitched—his cock twitching against his thigh—as Donald’s chuckle vibrated against his spine, the sound dark, satisfied.
Donald’s grip tightened—bruising—as he shoved Jared backward, the leather seat creaking beneath his weight. Jared’s back hit the seat—his spine arching—as Tyrell’s fingers dug into his thighs, forcing them apart with brutal efficiency. Donald leaned in, his breath hot against Jared’s exposed hole. "On your back, bitch," Donald growled—his voice rough with arousal—his fingers splaying across Jared’s hips, holding him down. Jared’s pulse spiked—his throat tightening—as Donald’s thumb traced his rim, the touch agonizingly slow, the rough pad of it sending tremors through Jared’s thighs. "Show me that pussy," Donald murmured—his lips brushing the inside of Jared’s thigh—the words dripping with dark amusement, the promise coiled tight in his voice.
Jared’s breath hitched—his muscles tensing—as Tyrell’s fingers tightened in his hair, forcing his head back against the seat. Donald’s chuckle vibrated against Jared’s skin—low, satisfied—as he leaned in, his tongue pressing against Jared’s hole with deliberate slowness. The wet heat of it sent sparks up Jared’s spine—his cock twitching against his stomach—as Donald worked him open, his tongue circling Jared’s rim with relentless precision. Jared shuddered—his fingers clawing at the leather—as Donald pressed deeper, the muscle thick and insistent as it breached him. Tyrell groaned—his grip tightening—as he watched Jared’s hole flutter around Donald’s tongue, the sight obscenely wet, the slick sounds echoing in the confined space.
Donald pulled back—spit glistening on his beard—as he reached for his belt, the buckle clinking against the leather seat. Jared’s pulse spiked—his breath stuttering—as Donald yanked his slacks down his thighs, his cock springing free—thick, flushed, the head already slick with precome. Donald’s fingers wrapped around himself—rough, possessive—as he stroked once, twice, the motion slow, deliberate. Jared’s thighs trembled—his hole clenching around nothing—as Donald leaned in, his breath hot against Jared’s skin. "Open up," Donald murmured—voice thick with arousal—his thumb pressing against Jared’s rim, the stretch sharp, insistent. Jared gasped—his body arching—as Donald’s fingers dug into his hips, holding him steady.
The first thrust was brutal—Donald’s cock splitting Jared open with a single, relentless push—the stretch bordering on unbearable, the friction igniting sparks up Jared’s spine. Jared’s vision whited out—his fingers clawing at the seat—as Donald bottomed out, his hips flush against Jared’s ass, the heat of him overwhelming. Donald groaned—low, satisfied—as he pulled back, the drag of his cock sending tremors through Jared’s thighs. "Fuck," Donald breathed—his voice ragged—his fingers tightening on Jared’s hips hard enough to bruise. Jared’s breath hitched—his cock twitching against his stomach—as Donald slammed back in, the force of it jolting Jared forward, his spine arching off the seat.
Donald’s pace was relentless—his thrusts sharp, deep—each snap of his hips driving Jared higher, the slap of skin echoing in the confined space. Jared’s hole clenched around him—desperate, greedy—his body betraying him as pleasure coiled tight in his gut. Tyrell chuckled—dark, amused—as he traced Jared’s parted lips with his thumb, the rough pad of it catching on Jared’s teeth. "Look at him," Tyrell murmured—voice thick with arousal—his fingers tightening in Jared’s hair as Donald’s thrusts grew rougher, the force of them knocking Jared’s breath from his lungs. Jared’s moan was muffled against Tyrell’s palm—his body trembling—as Donald’s cock dragged against his prostate, the sensation sharp, electric.
The SUV lurched—gravel crunching beneath the tires—but Donald didn’t slow, his grip bruising on Jared’s hips as he fucked into him harder, deeper. Jared’s thighs shook—his nails biting into Tyrell’s wrist. "Take it," Donald growled—his breath hot against Jared’s skin—his thrusts erratic now, his rhythm shattered. Jared’s vision blurred—his cock leaking against his stomach—as Tyrell’s fingers tightened in his hair, forcing his head back. "That’s it," Tyrell breathed—voice rough—his thumb pressing into Jared’s pulse point, the pressure just shy of painful. Jared’s gasp was raw—his body arching—as Donald’s hips stuttered, his cock pulsing deep inside him.
The aftershocks rolled through Jared—his muscles twitching—as Donald pulled out with a wet sound, his come dripping down Jared’s thighs. Tyrell chuckled—low, satisfied—as he traced the mess with his fingers, the touch featherlight, mocking. "Look at you," Tyrell murmured—voice thick with amusement—his thumb smearing the slick across Jared’s hipbone. Jared shuddered—his skin prickling—as Donald’s hands found his slacks, the fabric rough against his oversensitive skin. The zipper scraped Jared’s thighs—the material catching on his damp skin—as Donald yanked the slacks up his legs with brutal efficiency. Jared’s breath hitched—his hole still clenching around nothing—as Tyrell’s fingers brushed his nipples, the touch fleeting, cruel.
Donald’s grip tightened—bruising—as he buttoned Jared’s slacks, his knuckles pressing into Jared’s lower back hard enough to leave marks. The jockstrap’s strap dug into Jared’s cleft—the silk stiff with dried fluids—but Tyrell merely smirked, his fingers tracing the outline through Jared’s slacks with deliberate slowness. Jared flinched—his thighs trembling—as Donald’s fingers worked his belt buckle, the metal clinking against leather. The scent of musk and sweat clung to Jared—thick, oppressive—as Tyrell smoothed his rumpled shirt over his shoulders, the fabric damp where it stuck to his spine. Jeff pulled up to the house, “looks like your parents are home yet, get inside before they see what a mess you are.” He said to Jared. Jared had to crawl over Donald to get out of the car but before he got the door opened Donald grabbed his ass and told him “can’t wait to fuck you again baby, next time both Tyrell and I will be inside you together” Tyrell started giggling. Jared jumped from the car and ran as fast as he could to his room.
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