The silence after the video call was thick, heavy with the scent of our shared release. Rohan and I were still on our knees, sticky and breathless, when a sharp knock shattered the calm.
Rohan’s eyes went wide with panic. “Shit. Hide,” he hissed, scrambling for his discarded shorts and tossing me my own. I barely had them on when the door creaked open.
It was his friend, Aryan, from down the hall. He stood in the doorway, his eyes taking in the scene: the two of us, shirtless and flushed, the lingering smell of sex in the air. His gaze dropped to the glistening streaks still drying on my stomach and chest.
“Dude,” Aryan said, his voice low. “I heard… noises. And that video call earlier… was all that true? The stuff you were saying?”
Rohan froze, a deer in headlights. I could see the internal war—shame versus a desperate, newfound pride.
“Just… tell me the truth, man,” Aryan pressed, softer now.
Rohan let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping in surrender. “Yeah,” he whispered. “It’s all true.”
A long silence followed. Then, Aryan simply nodded, a strange, unreadable look in his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly, and without another word, he backed out of the room and closed the door.
The moment the latch clicked, the tension broke. Rohan collapsed against the side of his bed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck. He knows.”
But instead of fear, a weird exhilaration bubbled up in me. “So what?” I heard myself say. “He looked more curious than disgusted.”
Rohan’s eyes met mine, and the energy in the room shifted. The humiliation, the exposure—it was fuel. His gaze traveled over my body, lingering on the mess he’d made on my skin. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re covered in me.”
“You made this mess,” I countered, my own eyes devouring the defined lines of his torso, the trail of hair leading down to his soft cock. “You shot your fucking load all over me like a desperate slut.”
“And you loved it,” he breathed, crawling toward me on his knees. “You fucking loved being my canvas, didn’t you, Dhruv?” He stopped inches from my face, his scent—musky, sweaty, male—washing over me.
“Maybe I did,” I admitted, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Maybe I want to see what else you can do.”
His hand came up, not to strike, but to trace a path through the drying cum on my chest. He brought his finger to his lips and slowly, deliberately, licked it clean, his eyes never leaving mine. “I want to serve you,” he said, the words a hot promise. “I want to get on my fucking knees and worship every inch of you.”
The possessiveness in his voice ignited something primal in me. “I want to feel that fucking mouth,” I growled, fisting a hand in his hair. “I want to see if you’re as good a cocksucker as you are a show-off for Master.”
We didn’t need to discuss it. We were of one mind. We grabbed our phones, our fingers flying as we typed out a joint message to Master Ansh, explaining everything—Aryan’s interruption, the confession, and this new, raw hunger we had for each other.
The reply was almost instantaneous.
Master Ansh: My good little whores. You never fail to excite me. This pleases me immensely. Your devotion to each other is a testament to my training. From this moment on, you will serve together, in a single frame. Show me how well you please each other. I want to see every filthy, nasty detail. Do not make me wait.
His permission was all we needed. It was a command. A blessing.
Rohan didn’t need another order. He pushed me back onto the cold floor, his hands tearing at my shorts, freeing my already half-hard cock. He looked up at me with dark, hungry eyes.
“I’ve wanted to taste this since I first saw it on video,” he whispered, his breath hot against my tip. “I’m going to suck you like the filthy cocksucker I am.”
And then his mouth was on me.
Oh, fuck. It was wet and hot and perfect. His tongue swirled around the head, licking away the last traces of his own cum, before he took me deeper, his lips stretching around my girth. I groaned, my head falling back against the floor as he began to bob his head, his pace slow and deliberate at first, then growing more frantic.
“That’s it,” I moaned, my voice ragged. “You were born for this, you fucking natural. Take my dick deeper. choke on it, you slut.”
He did, his eyes watering as he took me all the way to the base, his throat working around me. The sounds were obscene—gagging, sucking, my own guttural moans. I fisted his hair, guiding his pace, fucking his face in earnest.
“You love this, don’t you?” I grunted, pulling him off my cock just to see a string of saliva connect his lips to my tip. “You love being used. Your mouth is fucking perfect.”
“Only for you,” he gasped, before diving back down, his enthusiasm overwhelming. His hands gripped my thighs, his nails digging in as he served me, worshipped me, completely lost in the act.
I could feel my orgasm building, a tight, familiar pressure. “I’m close, you fucking devil,” I warned him. “You’re going to swallow every last drop, you understand me? You’re going to drink my fucking load like the good little slut you are.”
He hummed in agreement, the vibration shooting straight up my spine. That was all it took. My back arched off the floor as I came, my release pulsing down his throat in thick, hot streaks. Rohan took it all, swallowing desperately, milking my cock with his lips until I was utterly spent, shaking and sensitive.
He pulled off with a wet pop, gasping for air, a triumphant, messy grin on his face. “Your turn,” I panted, pulling him up toward me. “My turn to serve.” I pushed him onto his back and buried my face between his legs, taking his hard, leaking cock into my mouth without hesitation. I wanted to taste myself on him. I wanted to make him feel even half of what he’d just made me feel. I swirled my tongue around the head, sucking hard, using every trick I’d ever dreamed of.
“Fuck, Dhruv! Yes! Right there!” he cried out, his hips bucking off the floor.
We were a mess of limbs and sweat and shared pleasure, two bodies serving one purpose under our Master’s watchful eye, and we were only just getting started.
