Control
Max was really keen to stay over. But I couldn't blame him. The potential prize was worth hanging around for.
WHaving hookups stay over was not something I usually tolerated. Normally, I made sure they headed out after I’d gotten what I wanted from them. Morning hangouts were only reserved for my really close buddies.
But tonight was different. Tonight, Austin was in charge.
Austin was the one who’d chosen Max from the crowded bar. Out of all the men who wanted him, Austin picked the one who didn’t pay him any attention. Not because Max didn’t find him attractive—it was clear he did—but because he wasn’t the type of man who chased.
I fixed that.
Once Austin chose his target, it was my job to reel him in. Max wasn’t used to being the chaser, but I knew exactly how to flip that switch. The pull of a man bigger, bolder, more magnetic than you—someone who filled the room without trying—was something Max couldn’t deny.
Once I brought him back, Austin had the pleasure of watching me use Max for my own enjoyment. I told Austin it was for him—a lesson in taking charge. Watch how a real man uses another for his pleasure. But if I was being honest, once I had Max in front of me, I almost forgot Austin was there.
Max was exactly my type. Tall, mid-forties, muscular, hairy. His chiseled features were perfectly set off by that porn-star mustache, which only made him even more fuckable. The fact that he rode a motorcycle and wore leather boots only pushed him further into my orbit.
There was no question—whether Austin had chosen him or not, I would have found a way to fuck him.
Now he was sprawled across my couch, prostrate and exhausted after I’d pushed him beyond his limits. It was clear that he had enjoyed our session.
But now, his eyes had moved over to Austin, staring at him like meat to a starving man. Despite his exhaustion Austin was a challenge he did not want to miss.
Austin sat opposite him in my armchair. Naked except for the collar and padlock at his throat and the cage locking his cock away. Even in this vulnerable state, there was something seductive about him, taunting you. He was like a siren calling you to your inevitable doom.
There was no question, he commanded attention.
Legs spread with deliberate confidence, arms planted firmly on the rests, head held high. His chest and abs stretched as he sat tall, offering himself up without asking. His stare cut daringly between me and Max, unflinching.
He’d just watched me make Max my bitch, and now his body was aching—horny and seething with jealousy. He was angry and he was just waiting for his chance to get retribution. This only served to make him look more desirable.
Meanwhile, Max lay stretched across the couch, arms draped along the back, head tilted as he looked toward Austin. Still naked. He took deep, heavy breaths, his chest rising and falling, pecs flexing with every slow inhale—his muscular frame on full display.
His cock lay thick and semi-hard across his thigh, damp and radiating heat between his spread legs. Watching him breathe felt like both recovery and foreplay all at once.
His eyes never left Austin—taunting him, teasing him—wordlessly daring him to make the next move.
The contrast between them was striking. Austin, restrained and collared, looked bold and domineering. Max—who had strutted in wearing a leather jacket and motorcycle boots— radiating confidence, just lay there spent and wrecked.
I loved the silence that stretched between them.
I was proud of how Austin held himself, how he was learning what it meant to be a man who didn’t need to beg for attention—one who owned a room simply by existing in it.
Owning his power.
The sexual tension was turning me on. I knew I needed a distraction. I went to the humidor and chose a nice fat cigar. Moments like this I needed an oral fixation. Something to do as I watched the scene before me build. I lit my cigar and watched them both as the flame caught, the tip burning bright while their eyes stayed locked on each other. The intensity between them was almost visible, thick in the air.
I enjoyed being the voyeur. Off to the side, my cigar smoke filling the room, as a reminder that I was here. A commanding presence, adding to the tension without participation.
All I could do was grab my cock and rub it through my jockstrap, feeling it grow as the intensity of the moment took over. I was getting rock hard, aching for release, but I kept my cock contained, stroking slowly at the edge of control.
Watching the two of them together—so fucking sexy—made it almost unbearable. I would have taken them both right then and ther if it had been about me.
But it wasn’t.
This moment wasn’t mine to claim.
I was only there to watch.
A voyeur—hungry, hard- eager to intervene, but this moment was about Austin and I was keen to see how this played out. I took another deep hit of my cigar and exhaled a heavy plume of smoke.
I got up and then poured two whiskeys, and handed one to Max. I looked down at Max, smiled, and asked quietly, “Are you sure you want to stay and play some more? Austin can be… a lot for a man to handle. What do you think?”
Max’s eyes widened. Exhausted as he was, the thought of a moment with Austin was temptation beyond resistance. He didn’t need to answer. I could see it in his eyes—the night was far from over.
I raised my glass. He mirrored me.
Then I took a seat beside him on the couch.
Setting my whiskey down, I let my free hand rest on his thigh, rubbing slowly, deliberately. Max took another drink, pretending to be calm while my hand traced lazy circles. My eyes drifted to Austin as my fingers moved closer to Max’s groin. I felt his cock stir beneath my touch, warmth building as it thickened in my palm.
I brushed my fingers across him, just enough to feel him harden, all while staring at Austin—knowing exactly how badly he wanted it.
To assert my dominance, I rested my hand on Max’s upper thigh, fingers settling against his balls and hardened cock. I paused there, deliberate,
then took another slow drag from my cigar. It was a quiet claim of ownership. Austin’s gaze locked onto me, openly begging for permission.
As I exhaled a thick plume of smoke, I smiled at him.
The game was about to begin.
I stood and walked over to Austin, telling him to get up. He rose and stopped close—too close. His tall, lean frame contrasted sharply with my broader one. I could feel him breathing me in, and I had to fight the urge to kiss him right there.
Instead, I reached down and grabbed his caged cock, holding it, feeling the weight and cold steel in my hand. I took the key and unlocked it. His cock sprang free instantly.
I grabbed his collar and pulled him in, close enough that he thought I might kiss him.
I didn’t.
I saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes before I spoke.
“The collar stays,” I told him. “You’re still mine.”
The disappointment melted into a slow smile
I took his place in the armchair. Settling in, making myself comfortable. From here, I had a perfect view of Max—spread wide on the couch, cock hard and eager, a wry smile on his lips, eyes bright and challenging as he tried to stare me down.
Then I looked up at Austin. “He’s all yours,” I said. “Make Daddy proud.”
I took another long inhale from my cigar and fixed Max with a cold, knowing stare as Austin moved toward him.
As Austin walked toward him, I could see the anger burning in his eyes, tangled tightly with desire. He wanted his hands on Max—wanted to taste him, consume him—but he also wanted to make him pay for touching what was his. Jealous fire rolled through him. His stance was aggressive, his gaze sharp and unflinching.
Max smiled back, convinced this young twink couldn’t do much damage.
Austin stopped in front of him and just stood between his legs. With Max spread open beneath him, he took his time, letting Max really see him. The lean, solid body. Muscles carved clean and tight. Piercing blue eyes. Beautiful lips. Scruffy blond hair. He stared down at Max without blinking, teasing him, daring him to make the first move.
Max only grinned wider, openly admiring what was about to be his.
The tension was brutal. Watching them square off made my dick throb harder, stretched tight against my jockstrap, demanding attention. I dragged my hand slowly along it, deliberate, before finally freeing it. It sprang up instantly, heavy and eager. I began to stroke myself with measured control, taking a long, unhurried pull from my cigar, eyes never leaving them. Two men locked in a silent standoff, both waiting to see who would break first—while I stood there, hard, contained, and dangerously close.
It was then that Austin stepped closer and climbed onto the couch, planting his legs wide around Max’s legs. His cock hovered right in front of Max’s face as he looked down at him. He teased him with it, holding it out so Max could get a good look. Austin’s cock matched his body—long, lean, beautifully built, crowned with a thick mushroom head
Precum was pooling at the tip, ambrosia begging to be sipped. Max opened his mouth, ready to take him, tqongue extended—an open invitation, silently begging for Austin’s cock. Austin took hold of himself and smeared his precum across Max’s tongue. Max’s lips began to close around the head, ready to take him.
Austin wasn’t having it.
He slapped his cock hard against Max’s face. Once. Then again. He dragged it across his mouth and cheeks, slammed it against him. There was little Max could do as Austin pressed his balls up into his nose—forcing him to really breathe in his masculinity. Max was clearly taken aback. This twink was dominating him with his cock.
Still, Max smiled. He was enjoying it more than he wanted to admit.
Then Austin decided to show him what he really wanted.
He slowly crouched down, hovering his ass over Max’s cock. Reaching back, he grabbed it, firm and confident, guiding it toward his hole. He sank down deliberately, inch by inch, taking him in—then kept going. Sliding down fast, greedy, hungry, swallowing Max’s cock deep as if he’d been starving for it. Not breaking eye contact.
Max gave a wry smile as Austin descended. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch, trying to reclaim a commanding pose as he stared Austin down.
Austin steadied himself by placing his hands on Max’s extended shoulders. Then he began to ride him.
Austin lifted himself high, almost letting Max slip free before sinking back down again. Over and over. He built his pace deliberately, moving with unrelenting control. He then leaned back, shifting his angle so Max hit every pressure point—maximizing his own pleasure with no regard for Max at all. Using Max’s cock like a joystick.
Max’s head tipped back against the couch as Austin continued to use him. His eyes rolled back, sweat gathering along his brow as Austin rode him relentlessly.
Then Austin paused.
He stood, letting Max’s cock slip free, and turned to face me. Our eyes locked. He held my gaze as he lowered himself again, taking Max cock back inside easily, deliberately.
He smiled.
Watching me—cigar in one hand, my cock in the other—fully aware of exactly what he was doing to me as much as to Max.
He leaned back against Max, one arm stretched around his neck so they were both staring directly at me. Austin wore a wide, insolent grin while Max strained beneath him.
In this position, Austin’s long, hard cock pointed straight at me, bouncing against his stomach as he rode Max harder and faster.
I stared at the scene, my own arousal obvious. I took a deep pull from my cigar, watching as Austin tried to intimidate me with his stare. The intensity only made me hungrier.
Austin grabbed his cock and pointed it straight at me, taunting, egging me on.
“I’ve got a cigar for you to smoke,” he said.
The nerve of him should have made me angry. Instead, I was impressed. He was bold—commanding in a way he hadn’t been before.
I surprised myself by putting the cigar down and moving toward them. As I dropped to my knees, Austin turned his head and kissed Max—purely as a power move meant for me. I watched them make out as I reached for him, a sharp edge of envy cutting through me.
I took his cock into my mouth. It was slick with precum, which I swallowed eagerly. Austin resumed riding Max, and with every rise and fall, he used Max’s cock to fuck my face. He increased the intensity by gripping the back of my head, holding me there.
I should have resisted. I didn’t.
There he was—one arm around Max, the other controlling me—using Max’s cock while face-fucking me. There was no doubt we were paying for teasing him earlier. Neither Max nor I seemed to mind.
Austin shifted his position so Max was hitting him perfectly. I could tell that he was getting close. His cock twitched in my mouth. I sucked him harder as he began to cum. Each pulse hit the back of my throat. He stilled himself, letting me take every release, sucking him clean. His eyes rolled back as I finished him.
I savored the taste of him. Almost disappointed that it was over so quickly.
When I stood, he snapped right back into it. Still impaled on Max, he began riding again—harder, faster.
I returned to my armchair and relit my cigar, watching as Austin drove Max to the edge. The pounding was relentless. We could both see Max was close. Austin leaned back again, kissing him.
Max’s body started to twitch. Austin continued to ride him hard as he spilled deep inside Austin.
I watched closely as Austin clenched around him, milking every last drop. When Max was spent, Austin slowly lifted himself off and turned around, taking Max's cock into his mouth. He worked his dick to drain him completely.
In doing so, he raised his ass toward me giving me a view of his beautiful hole.
No words were needed.
I leaned forward, placing my hands on his cheeks and spreading them wide. I took a long inhale from my cigar and blew the smoke over his sphincter before pressing my tongue to his raw, flushed skin.
My tongue exploring his used hole. He shuddered—clearly soothed by it. I worked him over as he then released Max’s seed onto my tongue.
I accepted it gladly, tasting both men side by side. Max’s was saltier, sharper; Austin’s thicker, muskier. Both unmistakable.
When things finally settled, I returned to my chair and watched the aftermath of Austin’s assault on us both. The room felt different now—heavy, used, quiet in a way only earned exhaustion can create. We lingered there, bodies slack, breath still uneven, no one in a hurry to move or speak.
I fetched towels and water, set them within reach, then stepped back and let the silence do its work. Max lay sprawled where he’d been left, chest rising and falling slowly, eyes unfocused but content. Austin stayed close, still keyed up, still humming with that sharp edge of power he hadn’t fully set down yet.
Nothing needed explaining.
No words were required.
The heat faded into something steadier—control reasserting itself, dominance settling back into place. I let the moment stretch, let them come back to themselves at their own pace, knowing exactly when to intervene and when not to.
Some moments don’t need direction.
They just need to be allowed to land.
Eventually, I told them I was tired and heading to bed. They could let themselves out—or stay. I had a king bed, so the choice was all theirs.
As I walked toward my room, I heard two sets of footsteps following behind me.
I smiled to myself.
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