Conclusion
Jack’s knees hit the concrete with a dull thud, the sound swallowed by the thick air of the garage. The floor was cold beneath him, grit biting into skin already too warm, too aware. He settled beside Craig, their shoulders almost touching, close enough to feel the heat rolling off each other. Both of them were eye-level with Luka’s cock.
The piercing caught the low light, a dull gleam at first, then brighter as Luka shifted his weight. A bead of pre-cum had already formed at the tip, swelling slowly, clinging to the metal as if it didn’t want to fall. It trembled there, heavy with promise.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The reality of it crashed in all at once. The three of them. Friends who’d spent years trading beers, cards, and bullshit, now stripped bare in a garage that smelled like whiskey and motor oil. Sweat hung in the air, thick and sharp, layered with something deeper, more animal. Craig’s breathing went shallow, his chest rising too fast. His eyes flicked to Jack, then back to Luka’s cock, as if afraid to linger anywhere else for too long.
Jack’s jaw locked. His hands curled into fists against his thighs, nails digging into skin. His cock throbbed hard, already leaking, drops darkening the concrete beneath him. His mind tried to surface a thought, some last scrap of control, but it never quite made it. The heat drowned it out. His body had already crossed the line.
Luka’s hand went to Craig’s hair.
Not gently.
His fingers threaded through the sandy strands, gripping just tight enough to make Craig suck in a sharp breath. Luka didn’t look down at him yet. He didn’t have to.
“You first, golden boy.” Luka’s voice was rough, carrying easily in the enclosed space. “Tell me what you see. And don’t you dare give me some half-assed description.” His grip tightened a fraction. “I want worship.”
Craig swallowed. Hard.
His eyes locked forward, fixed on Luka’s cock like it was the only solid thing left in the room. It hovered inches from his face, thick and solid, the skin stretched smooth over swelling weight. Veins stood out clearly, not decorative, not subtle, running along the shaft like raised scars. The Prince Albert curved through the head, the metal heavy, tugging slightly as another line of pre-cum slid free and finally dropped, splattering softly between Luka’s boots.
Craig’s own cock pulsed painfully against his thigh. He ignored it.
“It’s thick,” he said finally, his voice rough, breath ghosting over Luka’s skin. “Thicker than anything I’ve ever seen.” His throat worked, words dragging themselves out of him. “The head’s broad. Flushed. Like it’s already too full.” His gaze dipped to the piercing, lingered. “That metal… it’s heavy. You can see it pulling at you. Like it’s meant to be there.”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled, deeper this time, unashamed.
“You smell like whiskey and oil. Like sweat. Like something raw.” His eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat. “Musk. Male. Like everything I’ve been too chickenshit to admit I wanted.”
Luka’s fingers tightened in his hair. A low growl rolled through his chest, vibration passing straight down his spine.
“Good boy.”
Only then did Luka turn his attention to Jack. His other hand slid into Jack’s slicked-back hair, fingers curling, pulling his face closer until Jack had no choice but to look.
“Your turn,” Luka said. “And make it count.”
Jack stared.
Years of boardrooms and measured silences stripped away in a breath. On his knees, stripped bare, he was reduced to the simple, undeniable fact of what was in front of him. His voice came out rough, edged with something he didn’t bother trying to hide.
“Your cock is a goddamn weapon.” His eyes traced the slight curve, the way it jutted forward without apology, the heavy hang of Luka’s balls beneath it. “Those veins aren’t just there. They stand out. Like you’re always on the edge of using it.” He leaned in until his nose nearly brushed skin. “That piercing isn’t decoration. It’s a statement. You don’t care who sees it. You don’t ask permission.”
His breath hitched despite himself.
“And the scent—Christ. Whiskey. Smoke. Something primal underneath it. Leather and salt. The kind of man who doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not.”
Luka’s grin was sharp, all teeth. His cock twitched visibly.
“Better.”
He released their hair and stepped back, slow and deliberate, giving them the full view. Hands settled on his hips. His stance widened. His cock jutted between them, heavy and insistent, like an offering he already knew they couldn’t refuse.
“Now you’re gonna taste it.” His gaze pinned Craig. “One at a time. Craig first.”
A pause.
“One lick. Just the tip. Show Jack how it’s done.”
Craig hesitated. Just long enough for his pulse to spike.
His eyes flicked to Jack, then back to Luka. His mouth went dry, heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat. He’d never done this. Never let himself even think about it beyond the flashes he’d shoved down.
Luka’s hand slid back into his hair.
Craig didn’t fight it.
He let himself be guided forward, his tongue darting out, tracing the curve of cool metal before heat flooded it. The piercing was warm. Slick. The taste hit him all at once—salt and sharpness, pre-cum spreading across his tongue. Wrong and right tangled together, inseparable.
He fumbled, tongue slipping beneath the metal, awkward, uncertain. Then slower. Lips brushed the head. Luka groaned above him, the sound low and unrestrained.
“Fuck,” Craig breathed as he pulled back, lips wet and shining. His hand shook as he wiped his mouth, the taste lingering stubbornly.
Luka didn’t let him retreat far. “Good.”
He turned his attention to Jack. “Now you. Show me you’re just as hungry.”
Jack leaned forward, breath coming faster. His tongue flattened instinctively, dragging along the underside of Luka’s cock from base to tip in one long stroke. When he reached the piercing he paused, uncertainty flashing through him, then took it into his mouth, tongue swirling around metal and skin.
Salt. Musk. A faint tang of steel.
He pulled back too fast, gagging slightly. “Christ,” he muttered, wiping his chin. “I don’t—”
Luka laughed, low and rough. “You’re doing fine.”
He stepped closer. His cock brushed Craig’s cheek, then Jack’s, leaving slick heat behind.
“Now both of you.” His voice dropped. “Make it messy. Figure it out together.”
They didn’t move at first. Their eyes met, something heavy and unspoken passing between them. Heat pooled low in Jack’s gut. Craig’s breath stuttered.
Then Craig leaned in again, tongue tracing the base of Luka’s cock. Jack followed a beat later, slower, watching, adjusting by feel. Their tongues met awkwardly along the shaft, bumped, slid. Saliva spilled freely now, coating skin, making it shine under the garage light.
Their mouths collided at the tip. Craig sucked the head into his mouth, teeth grazing before he caught himself. Jack licked the underside, tracing the thick vein, still learning, still unsure.
Luka’s hands came down hard, fingers tangling in both their hair, guiding without mercy.
“Slower,” he growled.
They slowed. Not because they thought about it, but because his hands demanded it. Craig’s tongue dragged deliberately now, heat and weight filling his mouth. Jack followed the pace, matching it by instinct, saliva slicking skin as they adjusted around him.
“That’s it,” Luka said, voice rough with approval. “Worship it.”
Craig traced the curve of the piercing again. Jack followed, their tongues brushing, sliding, tasting Luka and each other. Spit dripped down their chins, ran along Luka’s shaft, pooled at the base before spilling over his balls. Their moans were muffled and wet, hands gripping Luka’s thighs. Their own cocks throbbed and leaked, forgotten, streaking the concrete beneath them.
And then it happened.
Craig pulled back just enough to breathe, lips swollen and wet, eyes blown wide. Jack turned his head at the same moment. Their gazes locked.
For a heartbeat, the garage fell away. The poker table. The cards. The bottles. Luka’s cock still gleaming between them. None of it mattered. There was only the wet shine of each other’s mouths, the heat lingering on their tongues, the shared hunger that had been tightening all night without either of them daring to name it.
Jack moved first.
His hand came up, cupping the back of Craig’s neck, fingers spreading into his hair. He didn’t yank. He didn’t hesitate either. He pulled Craig in, closing the distance in a single, deliberate motion.
Their mouths collided.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t exploratory. Tongues slid together immediately, messy and desperate, tasting Luka, tasting whiskey and salt and sweat. Craig made a sound low in his throat, surprised and wrecked all at once, before his hands came up hard, gripping Jack’s shoulders like he needed something solid to hold onto.
They kissed like men running out of air.
Craig’s lips parted wider. Jack pressed in, deepening it, his tongue sweeping Craig’s mouth with a hunger that had nothing polite left in it. The taste was overwhelming—Luka’s pre-cum still coating Craig’s tongue, spit slick and hot between them. Craig moaned into Jack’s mouth, a sound that vibrated straight through Jack’s chest.
Luka’s cock was still there, brushing Craig’s cheek, slick and hard and utterly forgotten.
Jack didn’t notice. Craig didn’t care.
Craig’s hands slid into Jack’s hair, fingers digging in, pulling him closer, harder, as if he could close the gap entirely. Jack groaned against Craig’s mouth, the sound breaking their kiss just long enough for Craig to breathe Jack in—heat, sweat, the sharp edge of arousal that matched his own.
“Fuck,” Craig breathed, the word torn out of him. “Jack—”
Jack cut him off with another kiss, rougher this time. His hand slid down Craig’s body, finding his cock, wrapping around it without ceremony. Craig gasped, hips jerking forward on instinct as Jack stroked him, slow and sure, thumb swiping over the head, spreading the slick there.
“I know,” Jack muttered against Craig’s lips, voice wrecked but steady. “I know.”
They were gone. Lost in it. Too far inside each other to notice the shift until it was already happening.
Luka had stepped back.
Not abruptly. Not to interrupt.
He watched.
His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, deliberately, the movement unhurried. His grin was sharp, satisfied, eyes tracking every frantic movement, every slip of tongue, every desperate sound. This was exactly what he’d been setting in motion. Not just their surrender to him, but the moment they stopped fighting each other.
Jack’s hand tightened around Craig’s cock. Craig bucked into it, breath breaking. Their mouths crashed together again, slower now, heavier, like they were learning the shape of this instead of just drowning in it.
Craig broke the kiss just long enough to look at Jack. Really look. His eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way Jack had never seen, pupils blown, lips red and wet.
“Fuck,” Craig whispered, almost reverent this time.
Jack didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He leaned in, forehead pressing briefly to Craig’s, breath mingling, then kissed him again, softer but no less hungry. His hand never stopped moving.
Luka’s voice cut through it.
“Enough.”
The word cracked like a whip.
They froze.
Not because they wanted to. Because their bodies recognized the command before their minds caught up. Their mouths were still touching when they stilled, breaths tangled, hands half-curled where they’d been gripping skin.
Slowly, they pulled apart.
Their eyes lifted to Luka.
He stood a few steps back, cock in his hand, still hard, still gleaming with their spit. His grin was all teeth, satisfaction written plainly across his face.
“Good boys,” he murmured, voice rough with approval. “Now you’re ready.”
The words settled over them, heavy and undeniable, as they stayed on their knees, chests heaving, bodies still humming with everything they hadn’t finished.
He stepped away from them, slow and deliberate, his cock still heavy in his hand, breath rough but steadying. He turned his back on them without a word, the movement casual in a way that felt deliberate, calculated. The tattoos along his spine flexed as he moved, ink stretching over muscle. He planted his hands on the poker table and bent forward, bracing himself against the scarred wood.
His ass was on full display.
The muscles tightened and shifted as he adjusted his stance, legs spreading wider. The light caught the curve of him, the deep crease between his cheeks, the darker trail of hair disappearing into it. His balls hung heavy beneath him, swaying slightly with each breath.
“Describe it,” Luka said. His voice carried easily, rough and expectant.
“Both of you. I want to hear what you see.”
Craig and Jack exchanged a glance. They were still on their knees, mouths wet, cocks aching, the concrete biting cold into skin that hadn’t cooled yet. Craig moved first, drawn forward like he didn’t quite trust himself to stay still.
He crawled closer until he was right behind Luka, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. His breath hitched as he took it in properly.
“Your ass is—” Craig started, then had to stop, swallow. “It’s thick. Solid. Muscled.” His gaze traced the curve, reverent. “There’s a trail of hair that gets darker between your cheeks.” He leaned in without touching, inhaling deeply. “You smell stronger back here. Sweat and oil, concentrated. Like leather and smoke and pure fucking man.”
His voice dropped lower as his eyes tracked down.
“Your balls are heavy. Hanging low. I can see them from here, the way they move when you breathe.” A pause. “Your taint’s smooth, just a hint of hair.” His breath ghosted closer. “And your hole…” He swallowed again. “It’s tight. Puckered. Clenching like it knows it’s being watched. Pink. Perfect. Like it’s daring someone to try.”
A low chuckle rumbled through Luka’s chest.
“Good boy.” He turned his head just enough to glance back over his shoulder. “Now you, Jack.”
Jack crawled forward and settled beside Craig. He forced himself to look. To really look.
His hands clenched against his thighs as his eyes followed the same path Craig’s had just traced. His voice came out clipped, measured, as if he were trying to anchor himself in control.
“Your ass is firm,” he said. “Defined. The hair’s darker between your cheeks.” His gaze dropped. “Your balls are heavy. Full.” He hesitated, jaw tightening. “Your taint is smooth.” Another pause, longer this time. “And your hole is tight. Clenched.”
Luka shifted his stance. His ass flexed, the movement subtle but unmistakable.
“That’s it?” His tone was amused, edged sharp. “You sound like you’re presenting to a boardroom, Jack.” He glanced back again, eyes cold and knowing. “You’re thinking too much.”
His voice dropped, all warmth gone.
“Craig. This cock. Get on it.”
Craig didn’t hesitate.
He moved around to Luka’s side, hand wrapping around Luka’s cock, still slick with spit. He leaned in immediately, tongue dragging along the underside before lapping at the head, tracing the piercing. His mouth opened wider as he sucked it in, the taste flooding back over his tongue, salt and heat and weight. His free hand cupped Luka’s balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten in his palm.
“And Jack—” Luka said, his voice cutting clean through the wet sounds.
“You’re eating my ass.”
Jack froze.
Just for a beat.
“I—”
“Now.”
The word hit hard.
Jack’s breath caught. His eyes flicked to Luka’s hole, exposed and close enough to feel unreal. He’d been here before, with women. Knew the rhythm. Knew the rules. None of that mattered now.
He leaned in.
His tongue darted out, tentative, touching the edge of Luka’s hole. Careful. Polite.
Luka laughed, sharp and cutting. “That’s not a pussy.” His hand reached back, fingers closing hard in Jack’s hair, pulling him closer. “Stop trying to be gentle. This is my ass.” His grip tightened. “Flatten your tongue. Get in there. Eat it like you fucking mean it.”
Heat flooded Jack’s face. Shame flared, then burned away under the force of the command.
He obeyed.
Jack flattened his tongue and pressed it broad and firm against Luka’s hole, licking in slow, deliberate strokes. The taste hit him immediately—sweat and salt and something unmistakably male. He groaned, the sound vibrating against Luka’s skin, hands gripping Luka’s thighs as he worked his tongue deeper, circling the tight ring, pressing insistently.
Luka’s groan was low, satisfied. “That’s better.”
Jack didn’t stop. He leaned in further, mouth open, tongue pushing harder, learning by pressure and response instead of thought. His lips brushed skin, sealed, sucked lightly before he adjusted again, deeper.
“Use your mouth,” Luka growled. “Suck it. Make me feel it.”
Jack sealed his lips around Luka’s hole and sucked. His tongue pressed inside, meeting resistance, heat clenching around it. The sensation ripped a moan from him, humiliation and hunger tangling until he couldn’t tell them apart.
Craig’s mouth worked Luka’s cock harder now, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, tongue swirling around the piercing. He could feel Luka tightening above him, balls drawing up in his hand. Pre-cum flooded his mouth again, thick and salty. His own cock ached, leaking freely, but he ignored it, focused entirely on the weight and heat filling his mouth.
Luka’s breathing grew uneven. His hips rocked slightly, fucking into Craig’s mouth while grinding back against Jack’s tongue.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Both of you. Worship me.”
Jack’s tongue pressed deeper. His hands spread Luka’s cheeks wider, giving himself more access, moaning openly now as he worked. Craig sucked harder, taking Luka deeper, throat opening, nose brushing the base.
The garage filled with wet sounds and rough breathing, oil and whiskey thick in the air as Luka’s control tightened around them both.
Luka’s breathing turned ragged, the sound tearing out of him as his muscles tightened under their hands and mouths. His hips jerked, grinding back hard against Jack’s tongue while he fucked forward into Craig’s throat, the rhythm no longer measured, no longer controlled. Whatever restraint he’d held onto all night was cracking under the dual pressure of their worship.
“Fuck,” he growled, the word breaking apart in his mouth. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop.”
Jack pressed in deeper, his tongue flattening, circling, sucking with intent now. His hands dug into Luka’s ass hard enough to leave marks, fingers spreading him wider as he worked. He could feel it clearly, unmistakably. The way Luka’s hole began to flutter around his tongue, muscle tightening and releasing in uneven pulses that matched his breathing as it slid out of control. Jack’s own hand found his cock, stroking in time with the movements of his tongue, chasing Luka’s edge without crossing his own. He stayed right there, suspended, riding the wave of Luka’s pleasure.
Craig took Luka deeper. His throat opened, surrendering to the thick weight filling his mouth. Pre-cum flooded his tongue, salty and sharp, as Luka’s cock swelled, the piercing dragging insistently along the roof of his mouth. Craig’s hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking fast and desperate, hips jerking into his fist. He wasn’t trying to come. Not yet. He just needed the friction, needed something to anchor him while Luka unraveled above him.
Luka’s hand tightened in Craig’s hair, the pull sharp, almost painful. His other hand braced hard against the poker table, knuckles whitening as his whole body went rigid.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m—”
His voice broke completely.
His hole spasmed around Jack’s tongue, clenching tight, releasing, then clenching again in deep, involuntary waves. Jack groaned against him, the sound vibrating straight through Luka’s body as he stayed buried there, tongue pressing deep, feeling every pulse, every contraction. His cock throbbed painfully in his hand, leaking freely, but he refused to tip over. He kept stroking, kept worshipping, mouth and tongue devoted entirely to Luka’s collapse.
Luka’s cock jerked violently in Craig’s mouth, and then he was coming.
His whole body shuddered as the first pulse of cum flooded Craig’s throat, thick and hot. Craig swallowed hard, trying to take it all, but there was too much. It spilled from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin, splattering onto the concrete in heavy white drops. He didn’t pull away. He kept sucking, kept swallowing, his hand working his own cock faster, eyes squeezed shut as Luka’s guttural sounds filled the garage.
Luka groaned, raw and wrecked, hips jerking helplessly with each pulse of his orgasm. His hole clenched rhythmically around Jack’s tongue, tight and unrelenting, and Jack stayed with him through it all, licking, sucking, drawing out every aftershock. His hand was a blur on his cock now, body trembling, balanced right on the edge but refusing to fall. He wanted to stay here, inside Luka’s pleasure, for as long as his body would let him.
Craig finally pulled back, gasping, lips swollen and wet, cum still dripping from his chin. He looked up at Luka with glazed eyes, his hand slowing on his cock, desperate strokes easing as Luka’s grip loosened in his hair. Luka’s body was still trembling, breath tearing in and out of his chest.
Jack pulled back too, face flushed, lips shining. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his other hand gripping his cock hard, squeezing the base to keep from spilling. His eyes met Craig’s, and something passed between them—recognition, hunger, the shared aftermath of what they’d just helped break open.
Luka straightened slowly, legs unsteady, chest heaving. He looked down at them, both still on their knees, cocks in their hands, faces marked with the evidence of his pleasure. His grin was savage, satisfied.
“Good boys,” he rasped. “Such good fucking boys.”
He reached down, fingers dragging along Craig’s jaw, then Jack’s, collecting traces of spit and cum before lifting his hand away.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Luka pulled away from them, his legs still unsteady, breath tearing in and out of his chest. He didn’t say a word as he turned from them and crossed to one of the chairs by the poker table, the movement loose, almost lazy, as if the effort it took were part of the point. He dropped into it with a satisfied groan and spread his legs wide, posture open and unguarded.
His cock had begun to soften, resting heavy against his thigh, still slick and shining. His fingers drifted to his nipple piercings, tugging at the rings, rolling them slowly. The chain between them caught the light as it shifted with each movement. His other hand wrapped around his cock, coaxing it back to life with slow, deliberate strokes that made no attempt to hide what he wanted next.
“What happens now,” he said, voice rough, unhurried, “is up to you two.”
Craig and Jack stayed on their knees. Their eyes met, chests still heaving, sweat cooling on skin that hadn’t quite stopped buzzing yet. For a moment, neither of them moved. The space between them felt charged, tight with everything that had been held back too long.
Then Craig surged forward.
His hand cupped the back of Jack’s neck, fingers threading into his hair as he pulled him in hard. Their mouths collided, desperate and messy, tongues sliding together without hesitation. Jack tasted Luka’s cum still coating Craig’s mouth, salty and thick. Craig tasted Luka’s ass on Jack’s lips, sweat and musk and something raw and unmistakably male.
They groaned into each other, hands gripping hair and shoulders, pulling closer, deeper, as if they could erase the space between them entirely.
They didn’t notice Luka watching.
His hand moved faster on his cock, nipples drawn tight under his fingers, breath hitching as he took in the sight of them devouring each other. They were too lost in the kiss, in the taste of Luka lingering on both their tongues, in the hunger that had been coiling all night and finally snapped free.
Without warning, Jack shifted.
He pushed Craig onto his back, the concrete cold against Craig’s overheated skin. Jack moved over him, legs bracketing Craig’s head, his cock hanging heavy above Craig’s face. He didn’t hesitate. He bent down and swallowed Craig’s cock as far as he could, choking slightly as it pressed into the back of his throat.
Craig bucked up into his mouth with a broken groan, hips jerking, hands flying to Jack’s thighs. Then he tilted his head back, mouth opening wide, tongue flattening as he took Jack’s cock in return. They moved together instinctively, sucking and moaning, mouths working in frantic, desperate rhythm.
Saliva spilled everywhere, streaking their chins, dripping onto the concrete, mixing with sweat and the slick evidence already marking the floor.
Craig’s hands slid down Jack’s back, gripping his ass, pulling him deeper. His thumb brushed over Jack’s hole, and Jack let out a guttural moan around Craig’s cock, hips jerking sharply in response. Craig pressed harder, thumb circling the tight ring of muscle, teasing without breaching, promising.
Jack answered without thought. He spread Craig’s cheeks, his own thumb finding Craig’s hole, pressing against it, feeling it clench under his touch. They sucked harder, faster, moans muffled and wet, bodies trembling as Craig’s thumb slid just inside Jack at the same moment Jack’s did the same to him.
The dual sensation shattered them.
Craig came first, his cock pulsing in Jack’s mouth, cum flooding his throat. Jack swallowed, choking slightly, but he didn’t pull back, didn’t stop until Craig was shaking beneath him, breath tearing loose in broken sounds. Then Jack followed, his own orgasm crashing through him, cock jerking as he spilled into Craig’s mouth. Craig swallowed it all, hands gripping Jack’s ass, holding him close as the last tremors ripped through them both.
Luka’s groan cut through the air, rough and wrecked.
His hand was a blur on his cock, hips jerking hard as he came again, thick ropes of cum splattering across the concrete. His head fell back, chest heaving, body shuddering with the force of it.
Jack and Craig collapsed onto the floor, bodies tangled, breaths coming in harsh, uneven pants. After a moment, Luka pushed himself up from the chair, legs still shaking, and crossed back to them. He reached down, hauling them both up, steadying them as they rose, slick with sweat and cum.
He pulled them in.
The kiss was slower this time. Softer. Three mouths meeting, tongues sliding together, tasting whiskey and salt and sweat and sin. When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Luka’s grin was sharp and satisfied.
“Debt paid in full,” he murmured.
Craig whined softly, needy, fingers tightening in Luka’s hair.
Jack laughed, breathless, confidence creeping back even as his legs still trembled.
“So… same time next week?”
Luka’s grin widened, eyes gleaming in the low light.
“Fuck yeah.”
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