1 WEEK EARLIER
The bass pulsed through the walls of Samuel’s apartment, a deep thrum that vibrated in Oliver’s chest. The air was thick with smoke, laughter, and the sweet, cloying scent of spilled cocktails. He leaned against the kitchen island, a beer in hand, watching Eli dance in the centre of the living room. The twink’s oversized sweater had been discarded hours ago; now he wore only a tight, black tank top that clung to his slender frame, his movements liquid and hypnotic. Oliver’s gaze was possessive, hungry. This, he thought, this is living.
Samuel Moore, the host of tonight’s gathering, stood nearby, nursing a martini and observing Eli with a mix of amusement and admiration. Samuel was Theo’s friend, someone Oliver had met shortly after moving to the city. Theo had introduced them, casually mentioning that Samuel was “a good guy to know” in the local scene. Oliver hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but Samuel had quickly become a fixture in his new life. He was a charismatic man in his early forties, with a sharp wit and a knack for throwing parties that blurred the line between wild and legendary. Samuel had assumed Oliver was separated from Mason Theo had introduced him that way, conveniently omitting the fact that Oliver and Mason were still in a monogamous marriage. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, just a selective truth. Oliver had never corrected him, and Samuel had never asked.
Samuel glanced over at Oliver, raising his glass slightly in acknowledgment. “Your boy’s got moves,” he said, his voice carrying over the music. “You’re a lucky man.”
Oliver grinned, sipping his beer. “Yeah, he’s something else.”
Samuel leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “You know, I wasn’t sure about Theo’s introduction at first. He’s got a habit of overselling people. But you? You’ve been a breath of fresh air. Glad you and Eli found your way here.”
Oliver nodded, his eyes drifting back to Eli, who was now laughing as he spun in circles, his arms outstretched. “We’re happy here,” he said, though the words felt heavier than he intended. Samuel clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious to the weight behind Oliver’s statement.
“Well, you’re always welcome at my place,” Samuel said. “You two fit right in.”
Theo sidled up next to him, a smirk playing on his lips. “Have you called back Mason yet?” he asked, voice low.
Oliver’s stomach tightened. Fuck. No, I forgot. The thought of his husband, 600 miles away and utterly unaware, sent a familiar thrill down his spine, a mix of guilt and electric excitement. “Shit,” he muttered. “Make sure you do, he’s called you 3 times today, he’ll get suspicious,” Theo added, clinking his glass against Oliver’s bottle before wandering off.
Samuel, the host, circled the room with a small ceramic plate. A fine, white powder was arranged in neat lines. Eli’s eyes lit up, a wicked blue sparkle, and he beckoned Oliver over. Coke wasn’t Oliver’s usual thing, but here, with Eli, with this new life… it was part of the script. Reliving my youth, he mused, bending down as Eli held the straw for him. The sharp, chemical burn hit his sinuses, then bloomed into a buzzing clarity. The music got louder, the lights brighter, Eli’s lips more irresistible.
They danced, a trio of heat and motion. Theo’s eyes scanned the room, always calculating. He got that smirk again. Oliver saw it and felt a pulse of anticipation. “Oh no,” Oliver said, grinning. “What are you thinking?”
Theo leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “You should fuck Eli in the walk-in pantry.”
Oliver laughed, a nervous flutter in his chest. “No way. It’s too risky. Everyone’s nearby, and people are making drinks in the kitchen. What if someone catches us?”
“Yeah,” Theo said, his smirk widening. “That’s the point. It’s great OnlyFans content.”
Eli slid into Oliver’s space, his hands finding the older man’s waist. He looked up, those pouty red lips glistening. “Come on, daddy,” he murmured, his voice a smooth and seductive. “It will be so hot.” He kissed Oliver then, passionately, tongue sliding against his, a promise and a demand. Oliver’s cock stiffened instantly, a hard ache against his jeans. Fuck. The risk, the danger of getting caught … it was intoxicating.
“Okay,” Oliver breathed, already turning.
They waited, watching the flow of the party. When the kitchen finally emptied, the three of them slipped through the door and into the large, walk-in pantry. Theo closed the door, the latch clicking softly. The space was narrow, shelves towering on either side, smelling of dry goods and spices. Theo pulled out his phone, the screen glowing. He hit record.
Eli looked at the camera and smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes. Then he sank to his knees on the tiled floor, his gaze fixed on Oliver. “Feed me, daddy,” he said, voice dripping with want.
Oliver’s hands trembled slightly as he unzipped his jeans. He pushed his cock out, thick and already flushed dark. Eli opened his mouth, a perfect O, and Oliver guided himself in, pushing past those ruby lips. The stretch was obscene, beautiful. Theo moved closer, hovering the phone above, capturing every detail: Eli’s stretched lips, the saliva beginning to pool, the desperate hunger in his eyes.
Oliver looked at the camera and moaned, a low, performative sound. “Fuck, yes,” he growled, playing to the lens. Eli bobbed his head, taking him deeper, choking himself deliberately. Oliver’s hands settled on Eli’s messy raven hair, guiding the rhythm.
Then they heard a group of people enter the kitchen, laughing and talking. The clink of bottles, the blender starting. Oliver froze. Theo pointed the phone at him, zooming in on his face. Oliver’s eyes widened. Oh my god, he thought, panic and arousal twisting together. Theo stepped back, getting a wider angle of Eli on his knees and Oliver standing over him.
Oliver put a finger to his own lips, a silent command. Then he smiled at the camera, a reckless, daring grin. He grabbed Eli’s head with both hands and slowly, slowly, began pumping into his mouth. He moaned again, softer this time, a hushed gasp. Eli’s eyes fluttered, tears of strain gathering at the corners. Oliver did a gentle slap on his cheek. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Be quiet.”
Eli pulled off, gasping silently, and mouthed, Sorry, daddy. Oliver nodded, his heart hammering. He grabbed Eli’s head again and resumed his silent thrusts, careful not to go too hard, to avoid any gag or cough that would betray them. The noise from the kitchen swelled with more laughter, more voices. Oliver looked over at Theo; the camera was shaking slightly with Theo’s suppressed giggles. Oliver mouthed, Oh my god, his expression a mixture of panic and pure, unadulterated turn-on. The risk made his cock harder, a steel rod of desire.
After a few minutes of this silent, mouth-fucking, Oliver stood Eli up. He spat into his own hand, a crude, effective lube, and slicked Eli’s hole with it. Eli turned, bracing against a shelf, presenting himself. Oliver lined up and pushed in, bare. The penetration was silent, tight. Eli shuddered, a moan escaping his lips. Oliver quickly clamped a hand over Eli’s mouth, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Be quiet, slut.” He kept his hand there, muffling the sounds, and began fucking him slowly, silently. Eli’s eyes rolled back, his body trembling with the suppressed pleasure.
The kitchen noises faded. Oliver cracked the pantry door open slightly, peering out. “They’re gone,” he whispered, closing the door again. “Fuck, that was close. We don’t have long before more people come back.”
He picked up the pace then, no longer silent. The slap of skin, the ragged breaths, filled the small space. Theo adjusted his angle, getting the best shot of Oliver’s muscular back flexing, Eli’s slender form bucking against him. “Fuck me, daddy,” Eli moaned, louder now. “Please, give me your load.”
Theo groaned, his free hand moving. “Fuck, this is hot,” he muttered, pulling out his own cock and starting to jerk off while filming.
Oliver’s thrusts became erratic, primal. “Take Daddy’s Cock,” he grunted, driving deep. He came with a stifled cry, shooting his release inside Eli, his body shuddering with the release. Eli sank to his knees again, immediately cleaning Oliver’s cock with his mouth, his own hand jerking his slender dick. Theo stepped closer, holding his cock next to Oliver’s, getting both in the frame. Eli turned to the new offering and sucked Theo down, hungry and efficient. Theo came down Eli’s throat with a gasp, and Eli, finally, spilled his own cum onto the tiled pantry floor.
They collapsed against the shelves, laughing in breathless, adrenaline-fueled glee.
The next day was a lazy Sunday, spent in bed, spoiling and fucking. Eli lay curled against Oliver’s hairy chest. “Have you called Mason yet?” he asked, idly tracing a finger over Oliver’s nipple. “The poor, clueless idiot.”
Oliver laughed, nuzzling into Eli’s hair. “No. I’d rather be here with you. I’ll call him later.”
When Monday morning came, only then did Oliver message Mason, apologising for not having contacted him that weekend, making up an excuse about how busy he got with exams and get-togethers, and saying he was just too exhausted and it completely slipped his mind.
By the afternoon, Theo was over, spreadsheets open on the laptop, finalising plans for the Fire Island shoot. “I’ve lined up a few creators for collabs,” Theo said, tapping the screen. “Perfect working holiday.”
He turned to Oliver, his expression shifting to a mild scowl. “Have you called your husband yet? Oh, fuck, no. You didn’t speak all weekend. You’re getting sloppy. Call him now, before he gets suspicious.”
Oliver sighed, the real world intrusion a cold splash. “Fuck. Okay.”
“Wait,” Theo said, a familiar predatory gleam returning to his eyes. “Let’s record it. Get the content. It’s so fucked up, and the X teasers always get more subscribers when we post one of these.” He looked at Eli. “Eli, on your knees slut.”
Eli’s wicked blue eyes lit up. “Oh, fuck yes.”
Theo got his phone out and was getting ready to record, Eli was already on his knees in front of Oliver, rubbing his boyfriend’s now hardening cock through his sweats.
Oliver zipped up his hoodie halfway, tried to tousle his hair to look more presentable, then pulled out his phone, making sure the screen showed only his chest and head in the familiar, deceptive framing. He dialled Mason. The call connected, the ringtone echoing in the quiet apartment.
Finally, the video call connected, and Mason’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey, babe,” his voice was flat and neutral. Oliver could tell he was upset, but luckily, he didn’t push any further. “How was your weekend?”
Oliver offered excuses something about exams, late-night study sessions, and how he’d been too exhausted to call. His voice was steady at first, but then Eli’s lips wrapped around his cock, warm and wet, and he felt the twink’s throat tighten around him as he swallowed him whole. Oliver’s voice was cracking slightly. “I…uh, I’ve just been…shit…really busy.”
Theo smirked from behind the camera, zooming in on Oliver’s strained expression as Eli bobbed his head, his tongue working in deliberate, teasing strokes. Oliver tried to keep his composure, but the sensation was overwhelming, and his words stumbled. “Exams,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling, “they’ve been kicking my ass”
Eli pulled back, giving Oliver’s cock a slow, deliberate lick before taking him deep again, and Oliver’s voice broke entirely. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, trying to mask it with a cough.
Theo’s smirk widened as he captured every detail of Oliver’s flushed face, his wavering voice, and Eli’s relentless suction. It was a perfect betrayal, caught on film.
“So…” Mason asked quietly, his tone deliberately soft, “where’s Eli?”
Oliver tilted his head, his eyes darting away from the camera for a split second, looking at Eli between his legs, working his cock, then darting to Theo, recording, giving him a thumbs up, mouthing silently, “ This is fucking great before he turned back to the screen and smiled. “Oh, Eli? He’s got class on Monday afternoons. So… on campus, I guess? Why do you ask?”
“Did something happen?” Mason asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver froze for a moment, and Eli was continuing deep throat his cock, but regained composure. “Nothing really?” Oliver said, his voice cracking slightly, with an awkward laugh. “Just busy, like I said. Exams are kicking my ass. And, uh, I’ve been partying, but I’m not young anymore. So, yeah, I guess I can’t party like we used to.”
Theo moved up closer to Eli’s face as Eli looked in the camera, slurping down on Oliver’s cock and giving a wicked grin. Oliver was trying to focus on the call, but his eyes were darting between his best friend filming and his boyfriend pleasuring his cock, Eli started bobbing his head up and down faster, causing Oliver to bite down on his lip. You ok, Babe? Mason’s voice came through the speaker, snapping Oliver’s eyes back to the screen.
I’m fine, babe, Oliver stammered, trying to act normal amid all the chaos surrounding him.
“Did you have a good rest of your weekend, at least? Get some rest?”
Eli was working faster, now on Oliver’s cock, now using one of his free hands, jerking it while sucking. Oliver could feel his orgasm growing, his shoulders dropping as he let out a breath. “Yeah, yeah, I did,” he said, his voice softer now. He quickly and subtly bit his lower lip again.
They talked for a few more minutes, Oliver promising to fly back the weekend after next since he was too busy with school and wouldn’t have time for visitors. As Mason spoke, Oliver struggled to keep his composure. Eli’s mouth was relentless, sucking and slurping on his cock with a practised ease that threatened to unravel him completely. Theo hovered closer, his phone capturing every detail Eli’s lips stretched around Oliver’s thick shaft, the spit glistening as it pooled at the corners of his mouth, the way his cheeks hollowed with each deep throat.
Oliver’s breathing shallowed. “Yeah, babe,” he said, forcing his voice to sound casual, though desperation was seeping into its edges. “I’ll call you later, okay?” His words came out strained, his hips twitching ever so slightly as Eli swallowed him deeper. The sound of wet suction filled the room, barely muffled by the fabric of the couch.
Just before they ended the call, Oliver cursed sharply, his body tensing as Eli took him all the way down, his throat contracting around Oliver’s cock. The sensation was too much. “Fuck!” Oliver groaned, his voice breaking as he came, his release shooting thick and hot down Eli’s throat. He lowered his head and pointed the camera up at the ceiling, trying to hide the shuddering of his body, the way his face contorted with pleasure.
Mason’s voice cut through the room. “What happened?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Oliver gritted his teeth, forcing out a weak laugh. “Nothing. Just banged my funny bone on the table.” His hand gripped Eli’s hair tightly, holding him in place as Eli greedily swallowed every last drop.
Theo grinned, zooming in on Eli’s face as he pulled off Oliver’s cock with a wet pop, his lips glossy and swollen. He looked up at the camera with a devilish smirk, tongue darting out, showing the copious amounts of cum. Theo mouthed, “Perfect,” and kept filming as Oliver collapsed back against the couch, his breathing ragged, while Eli swallowed and wiped his mouth, then licked his fingers clean.
Oliver quickly regained his composure, though his voice was still slightly shaky. “I’ll talk to you later, babe,” he said, ending the call before Mason could say anything else.
The moment the screen went black, Oliver exhaled deeply, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Fuck,” he muttered, half laughing, half groaning. “That was intense.”
Theo lowered his phone, grinning ear to ear. “That’s some premium content right there,” he said, already reviewing the footage. “The way you came while talking to Mason? So fucked up, but it’s Gold.”
Eli smirked, crawling up beside Oliver and nuzzling into his neck. “You okay, daddy?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
Oliver chuckled, pulling Eli closer. “Never better,” he said, though his racing heart told a different story.
To be continued
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