Trent let out a low, mocking laugh from where he stood stroking himself lazily, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Jesus, Chad. You just went full boyfriend mode down there. Licking his little pussy like it's date night. What’s next, you gonna light candles and call him princess?"
Brad barked a laugh, slapping Chad’s shoulder hard enough to make the impact echo. "For real, bro. You were eating him out like he’s got a clit. Thought we were breaking the kid, not romancing him. Next thing you know you’ll be asking if he came first."
Chad rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck. He didn’t snap back, just gave them a half-smirk and shrugged. "Laugh all you want. You two rush in dry and he’ll be crying for real, not the hot kind. I’m just making sure he can take us without bleeding all over the sheets. You’re welcome."
Trent snorted, stepping closer to run a rough thumb over my still-trembling lower lip. "Aw, look at him blushing for his gentle daddy. Pathetic. Bet he’s already half in love with Chad’s tongue."
I buried my face deeper into the pillow, cheeks burning, but my hips still twitched back toward Chad instinctively, body chasing the lingering warmth even as the mockery stung. Chad’s hand settled on my hip again, steady, reassuring, thumb stroking a small circle there like silent apology for their shit-talking.
Brad shoved past him impatiently, thick cock already leaking as he lined up. "Enough chit-chat. Move, Chad. My turn to wreck that pretty hole you just got all slick and sweet."
Chad stepped aside but stayed close, one hand resting lightly on my lower back like an anchor. "Slow, Brad. I mean it."
Brad just grunted, pressing the blunt head against me. "Yeah, yeah. Relax, surfer boy. Time to really feel what a real dick does."
I whimpered, face still turned toward the red light, body trembling with a mix of dread and something dangerously close to anticipation.
Brad lined up, the blunt, slick head of his curved cock pressing insistently against my hole. Chad had reached over to the nightstand drawer without a word, pulled out a half-used bottle of clear lube, and squirted a generous amount directly onto Brad’s shaft, then more onto his fingers. He rubbed it in quick, efficient strokes, making sure Brad was coated, before wiping his hand on the sheet and giving my ass a gentle pat.
“Easy does it,” Chad said quietly, almost to himself. “He’s still tight as hell.”
Brad grunted acknowledgment but didn’t slow down. “Breathe, surfer boy.”
He pushed.
The stretch was immediate and brutal, wider than fingers, wider than that one awkward beach dick last summer. My body fought it instinctively, clenching hard around the intrusion even as the lube helped him slide forward. A sharp, tearing whimper ripped out of me, muffled around Trent’s thick cock still filling my mouth. My hands fisted the sheets, knuckles white, every muscle locking up.
“Fuck, he’s gripping like a vice,” Brad groaned, voice strained with pleasure. He paused halfway in, hips flexing, letting me feel the impossible fullness. “Come on, kid. Open up for me.”
Chad’s hand settled on my lower back again, warm and steady, thumb rubbing slow circles. “Relax your hole, Riley. Push out a little, like you’re trying to push him out. It’ll help. You’re doing good, just breathe through it.”
I tried. God, I tried. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, smearing down my cheeks as Trent rocked shallowly in my mouth, keeping me distracted. Brad inched forward again, slow, relentless, until his hips finally pressed flush against my ass, balls snug against me, every thick inch buried deep. The pressure was overwhelming, a deep ache that bordered on pain, my rim burning around his girth.
He stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, letting me adjust, chest heaving. Then he pulled back, slow, deliberate, every ridge dragging along my walls. The drag across my prostate hit like a live wire.
My eyes flew open wide.
A shock of raw, electric pleasure sliced straight through the fear and burn, hot, sudden, undeniable. It wasn’t like anything I’d felt before. That one beach fuck had been clumsy, over too fast, no real spark. This… this was different. Deeper. Fuller. Brad felt the change ripple through me; my hole fluttered around him, body clenching not to push him out but to keep him in.
“There it is,” Brad growled, voice rough with triumph. He shifted his angle just slightly, hips rolling in a tight grind that nailed my prostate dead-on with every slow withdrawal and re-entry. “Knew you’d feel it.”
Heat coiled low in my belly, unwanted at first, then insistent, spreading like wildfire. My cock twitched hard inside the damp cotton of my blue briefs, thickening against the fabric, leaking steadily now. A soft, broken sound escaped around Trent’s dick, half moan, half sob.
Chad noticed immediately, leaning in close enough that I could feel his breath on my ear. “Look at you, baby. Getting hard for it already. That’s it, let it feel good. You’re safe. Just ride it.”
Brad picked up speed, long, powerful thrusts now, each one bottoming out with a wet slap of skin on skin. The initial burn started to fade, replaced by that overwhelming, prostate-milking pressure that made my toes curl and my thighs shake. Every deep stroke punched pleasure straight into my core; my hips rocked back instinctively, small, helpless little movements chasing more.
A low, needy moan vibrated around Trent’s cock. My eyes fluttered half-shut, tears still leaking, but the fear was melting under the rising tide of sensation. It hurt, fuck, it still hurt, but the hurt was starting to feel… good. Necessary. Like the stretch was carving space for something better.
Trent pulled out suddenly, letting me gasp for air, spit and precum stringing from my swollen lips to his glistening head.
“Camera, Riley,” he ordered, voice dark and amused. “Look right at it. Tell everyone how much you love getting cored out by your frat bros’ big dicks.”
My face was flushed, wrecked, eyes glassy. I turned toward the blinking red light, voice shaky and higher-pitched than I’d ever heard it.
“I… I love getting cored out by my frat bros’ big dicks.”
“Louder,” Chad said, softer but firm, his hand still stroking soothing circles on my back.
I swallowed, chest heaving. “I love getting cored out by my brother’s frat bros’ big dicks!”
They laughed, low, satisfied, victorious.
Brad slammed in harder on the next thrust, making me cry out, but this time the sound was mostly pleasure. My body was melting into it now, hips rolling back to meet him, hole clenching greedily around every thick inch. The ache was still there, but it had twisted into something addictive, something I suddenly craved more of.
“Fuck yeah,” Brad panted, pace turning brutal. “That’s it. Take it like you were made for it.”
Chad leaned down, brushed a damp curl off my forehead with surprising tenderness. “You’re doing so good, Riley. Look how pretty you look like this, taking him deep, leaking for it. It’s gonna feel even better.”
My only response was another broken whimper, body trembling, finally surrendering to the rhythm as the first real waves of anal pleasure started to build toward something unstoppable.
Brad slammed in one last time, hips grinding deep, a low, guttural groan ripping out of him as he unloaded. Thick, hot pulses flooded my ass, rope after rope, until I could feel the excess warmth starting to leak out around his shaft. My hole clenched around him instinctively, milking every drop, and the sensation pushed another helpless whimper from my throat.
He stayed buried for a few seconds, panting, letting me feel the full weight of him softening inside me. Then he pulled out slow, deliberate, his curved cock slipping free with a wet, obscene sound. Cum immediately welled up and dribbled down my crack, thick and pearly.
Brad didn’t hesitate. He scooped two fingers through the mess leaking from my stretched hole, gathering a generous glob of his own load, still warm and slick. He brought it to my lips, smearing it across them first, then pushing inside.
“Open up, surfer boy,” he grunted, voice rough with post-nut satisfaction. “Taste what you made me shoot.”
I parted my lips on autopilot, tongue meeting the salty-bitter flood. The flavor was overwhelming, musky, thick, mixed with the lingering lube and my own body’s heat. He fed me more, fingers sliding in and out, making me suck them clean while Trent angled his phone down, recording every second of my flushed, wrecked face swallowing Brad’s cum.
“Smile for the camera, bitch,” Trent murmured, zooming in on my lips wrapped around Brad’s fingers. “Dylan’s gonna love seeing his little brother eat frat load like it’s dessert.”
Brad finally pulled his fingers free, wiping them on my cheek, smirking. “Good boy. Cleaned me right up.”
Chad had been watching the whole thing quietly, stroking himself slow, eyes soft but intense. Now he moved.
“Alright,” he said, voice low and steady. “My turn. Let’s do this right.”
He reached for me gently, hands sliding under my hips, and flipped me onto my back in one smooth motion. My legs, long, lean from years of paddling, were pushed up and over his broad shoulders, folding me nearly in half. My blue briefs were still tangled around my thighs, cock straining hard against the soaked cotton, leaking steadily. The new angle left me completely exposed, hole still slick and puffy from Brad, cum trickling out.
Chad lined up, thick head nudging my entrance. He didn’t rush. He pressed in gradual, inch by careful inch, eyes locked on mine the whole time. The stretch was different from Brad’s curve; Chad was girthy, heavy, filling me in a way that felt almost too much and exactly right all at once. My breath hitched, eyes widening as he sank deeper, deeper, until his hips met my ass and he bottomed out with a soft exhale.
“Fuck,” I gasped, head falling back against the pillow. “It’s… so big…”
He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust, one hand braced beside my head, the other stroking my thigh soothingly. Then he rolled his hips, slow, controlled circles that dragged every thick inch along my walls, grinding right against my prostate with devastating precision.
My vision blurred. A broken moan tore out of me, loud and raw. My eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, whole body arching up off the bed like I’d been shocked. This wasn’t like Brad’s rough pounding or that fumbling beach fuck, this was deep, deliberate, every movement hitting nerves I didn’t know existed. Pleasure crashed through me in waves, hot and relentless, making my toes curl over Chad’s shoulders.
“Oh god… Chad…” I whimpered, voice cracking. “It’s… it’s so good… fuck…”
He leaned down, closing the distance, and kissed me, soft at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against mine. The taste of Brad’s cum was still on my lips, but Chad didn’t pull away. He groaned into my mouth, hips rolling in that same perfect rhythm, fucking me slow and deep while he kissed me like I was something precious.
Trent barked a laugh from the side, phone still recording. “Jesus, Chad. You gonna propose next? You’re tasting your own boy’s ass and Brad’s load on his tongue. Romantic as fuck.”
Brad snorted, already half-hard again just watching. “Bro’s gone full boyfriend. Next he’ll be whispering sweet nothings while he breeds him.”
Chad ignored them both. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against my lips, voice rough but tender. “You feel that, baby? That’s what it’s supposed to feel like. You’re taking me so fucking good.”
I was losing my mind. My hands scrambled up to clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as another grind across my prostate sent sparks behind my eyes. My cock throbbed untouched, leaking a steady stream into my briefs, the wet spot now dark and obvious.
“More,” I begged, voice high and desperate. “Please, Chad… harder… fuck me harder… I need it… god, your dick is… it’s everything…”
He picked up the pace, just enough, long, deep thrusts that bottomed out every time, hips snapping with controlled power. Each stroke punched pleasure straight into my core, making my legs shake over his shoulders, my hole clenching greedily around his thickness. I moaned openly now, shameless, head thrashing side to side, curly hair plastered to my sweaty forehead.
“Yes… yes… fuck… don’t stop… please don’t stop…” The words spilled out in a babble, body melting under him, finally giving in completely. This cock, this thick, perfect stretch, was a revelation. It wasn’t just sex anymore; it was something deeper, something that rewired me from the inside out. I was trembling, teetering on the edge, prostate throbbing with every grind.
Chad kissed me again, deeper this time, swallowing my moans as he fucked me through the rising wave. His hand slid down between us, palming my leaking cock through the briefs for the first time, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Come for me, Riley,” he whispered against my mouth. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
And I did, shattering with a broken cry, untouched except for that one squeeze, spurting hard into the cotton, whole body convulsing around his cock. My hole clamped down tight, pulsing, milking him as pleasure ripped through me in blinding waves.
Chad groaned low, thrusts turning erratic. He buried himself deep one last time and came with a shuddering exhale, flooding me with hot, thick pulses that mixed with Brad’s load. He stayed inside me through the aftershocks, kissing me softly, forehead pressed to mine.
“Good boy,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “So fucking good.”
Trent finally lowered the phone, smirking. “Well, damn. Chad just made the kid see god.”
Brad laughed. “Yeah. And now he’s ruined for anyone else. Dylan’s gonna be pissed.”
I lay there panting, legs still over Chad’s shoulders, body humming, sore, full, and already aching for more even as shame and bliss warred in my chest. Chad finally eased out slow, cum leaking from my used hole, and pulled me into his arms for a moment, gentle, grounding, while the others watched with dark amusement.
Chad eased out with a slow, wet pop, his thick cock slipping free and leaving my hole grasping at nothing, fluttering and gaping openly. A thick trickle of his cum, mixed with Brad’s, immediately leaked out, sliding down my crack and soaking into the sheets beneath me. My rim pulsed, swollen and puffy, still trying to close around the sudden emptiness. I whimpered softly, legs trembling from the aftershocks, body limp and oversensitive.
Chad stayed close, one hand stroking down my spine in long, soothing lines. “You did so good, baby,” he murmured, voice low and warm against my ear. “Took me like a champ. Breathe through it, let it settle.”
But Trent was already moving.
He didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. He grabbed my hips roughly, flipping me onto my stomach in one brutal yank. My face hit the pillow, curly hair falling into my eyes, and before I could even push up on my elbows, Trent’s massive weight dropped onto my back, chest to spine, pinning me flat to the mattress. His thick arms caged me in on either side, forearms braced beside my head, trapping me completely under his bulk.
“Time to really break you in, fag,” Trent growled, breath hot and sour against the back of my neck. “This is what little pussy boys like you were made for, serving real dick. If it hurts, that’s your fucking problem.”
He didn’t ease in. Didn’t lube up extra. He just lined up that obscene nine-inch monster, still rock-hard, veined, foreskin peeled back, and rammed forward in one vicious thrust.
The stretch was blinding. A raw, tearing burn ripped through me, far worse than anything before. My hole had been prepped, slick with cum and lube, but Trent’s girth was something else, thicker at the base, unrelenting, and he didn’t give me a second to adjust. He bottomed out hard, balls slapping against mine, and immediately set a punishing rhythm: long, brutal slams that drove the air from my lungs.
I screamed, high, broken, muffled into the pillow.
Trent laughed darkly. “Yeah, scream for it, cunt. That’s all your little pussy’s good for, taking big dick and crying about it.”
My hands scrabbled at the sheets, trying to push up, to breathe, but his weight crushed me down. Every thrust punched deep, battering my prostate with ruthless force. Pain and pleasure tangled so tight I couldn’t tell them apart anymore. Tears streamed down my face, soaking the fabric beneath me.
Chad knelt beside us, one hand cupping the back of my neck gently, thumb stroking there in small, comforting circles. “Shhh, Riley, I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice steady despite the violence happening inches away. “Breathe slow. You’re okay. You’re taking it so well. Just let it happen.”
Trent snarled over my shoulder. “Shut the fuck up with the sweet talk, Chad. He’s not your girlfriend.” He reached down, snatched his own sweaty gym shorts from the floor, still damp from the party, and balled them up. Without warning, he shoved the musky, sweat-soaked fabric into my mouth, gagging me hard.
“Mmph—!” My muffled cry vibrated against the cloth, tasting of Trent’s ball sweat and stale beer.
“Shut the fuck up, fag,” Trent hissed, grinding deeper. “Pussy boys don’t get to scream unless I say so. Now take this dick like the hole you are.”
He fucked me harder, short, jackhammer thrusts that made the bedframe slam against the wall. My body jolted with each impact, prostate getting pummeled mercilessly. The pain was sharp, overwhelming, but underneath it, that deep, grinding pleasure started to build again, hotter, darker, more intense than with the others.
Chad kept murmuring soft encouragements, fingers threading through my hair now, petting me gently even as Trent railed me into the mattress. “You’re doing amazing, baby. Hang on. You’ve got this.”
Trent suddenly pulled out, abrupt, leaving me gaping and clenching around nothing. Before I could even gasp, he rolled onto his back beside me, cock standing straight up like a weapon.
“Get on it,” he ordered, grabbing my hips and manhandling me like I weighed nothing. He positioned me reverse cowgirl, facing away from him, and yanked me down onto his length in one brutal drop.
I cried out around the gag, the new angle letting him sink even deeper, the fat head bullying straight into my prostate. Trent’s hands clamped onto my hips, forcing me to ride, up and down, hard and fast, his cock spearing me over and over.
“Ride that dick, cunt,” he growled. “Show me what a greedy little pussy you’ve got.”
My thighs burned, but I moved, helpless, hips rolling, chasing the brutal fullness. Chad stayed close, one hand on my shoulder now, steadying me, whispering, “Easy, Riley… slow your breathing… you’re okay…”
Trent wasn’t satisfied. With a grunt, he shoved me forward, chest and shoulders dropping to the mattress, ass still high, knees spread wide. He rose behind me, stomach pressing to my back, and drove back in, long, punishing strokes now, pulling almost all the way out before slamming home again and again.
The long-dicking was different. Devastating. Every full withdrawal dragged across my prostate in a slow, burning glide; every re-entry punched it hard, sending white-hot sparks up my spine. My eyes watered, vision blurring, whole body shaking. The pain was still there, sharp at the edges, but the pleasure… fuck, the pleasure was overwhelming, building to something unbearable.
I moaned around the sweaty fabric, high and desperate, hips pushing back instinctively now.
Trent felt it. “Yeah, there’s the little fag pussy waking up. Look at you, cunt’s gripping me like it never wants to let go.”
He long-dicked me harder, slow pulls out, brutal slams in, each stroke hitting that spot dead-on. My cock throbbed untouched in my soaked blue briefs, leaking steadily, balls drawing up tight.
The next deep thrust did it.
Pleasure detonated, white-hot, blinding. I came hard, untouched, spurting into the cotton in thick, helpless pulses. My hole clamped down around Trent’s monster cock like a vice, fluttering wildly, milking him as my whole body convulsed. A muffled, keening wail tore out around the gag, eyes rolling back, toes curling.
Brad let out a shocked laugh. “Holy shit. He just came hands-free. Didn’t even touch his little dick.”
Trent barked a cruel laugh, still pounding through my orgasm. “Told you. Little faggot pussy boy. Born to take dick and cream himself on it.”
Chad’s voice was softer, almost proud despite everything. “Look at you, Riley… coming so hard like that. So fucking beautiful.”
Trent growled, thrusts turning erratic. “Gonna flood this cunt now.” He slammed in one last time, burying himself balls-deep, and came with a low, guttural roar, thick ropes painting my insides, adding to the mess already leaking out.
He stayed buried for a moment, panting, then finally pulled out, leaving my hole wrecked, gaping wide, cum pouring from it in thick streams.
I collapsed forward, trembling, wrecked, still gagged with his sweaty shorts, body humming with aftershocks.
Chad immediately pulled the fabric from my mouth, tossing it aside, and gathered me against his chest, gentle, grounding, while Trent and Brad laughed low and mocking above us.
Trent wasn’t done.
He sat up slowly on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, that monstrous cock still half-hard and glistening, coated in a thick, obscene sheen of lube, cum from all three of them, and the slick evidence of my own stretched, wrecked hole. Strings of it clung to the veined shaft, dripping lazily onto his heavy balls. The smell hit me again, raw, musky, filthy, stronger now, layered with everything that had just happened.
He fisted my curly hair in one brutal grip, yanking my head up and forward until my face hovered inches from his groin.
“Clean it, fag,” Trent ordered, voice low and mean. “Every fucking drop. Show the camera what a good little pussy boy does after getting bred.”
Brad was already moving, phone in hand, angled down for a perfect close-up. The red recording light blinked on again, different angle, same humiliation. Chad tensed beside me, hand still resting protectively on my lower back, but he didn’t intervene. His thumb stroked once, a silent “I’m here,” even as Trent tightened his hold.
I hesitated, lips trembling, tasting salt and shame on my tongue already.
Trent jerked my head closer, the fat, slimy head smearing across my cheek, leaving a wet trail. “Don’t make me ask twice, cunt. Open that mouth and lick your pussy juice off my dick. Taste what three real men just pumped into your greedy hole.”
My stomach twisted, but my body, still buzzing from the orgasm, still loose and pliant, moved on autopilot. I parted my lips.
The first swipe of my tongue along the underside made me gag instantly. The flavor exploded, bitter, thick, salty cum from Brad, Chad, and Trent all mixed together, overlaid with the tangy, musky slickness that was unmistakably me. My own ass, stretched and leaking, coating every inch of him. It was overwhelming, humiliating, and somehow still sent a dark shiver through me.
Trent groaned in approval, guiding my head with that iron grip in my hair. “Yeah… there it is. Clean it good. Suck every bit of that frat load and your cunt cream off me.”
I worked my tongue in long, slow strokes, base to tip, lapping up the sticky mess. Thick globs slid down my throat; I swallowed reflexively, cheeks burning. Brad zoomed in closer, catching the way my lips stretched around the girth again, the way cum smeared across my chin and dripped onto my chest.
“Look at him go,” Brad laughed, voice rough with fresh arousal. “Slurping up three loads like it’s his favorite smoothie. Little surfer bitch really is dickmatised.”
Chad’s hand slid up to cup the back of my neck now, gentle, grounding, thumb rubbing small circles there while Trent used my mouth. “You’re okay, Riley,” Chad murmured so quietly only I could hear. “Just get through it. You’ve already taken everything they threw at you. So fucking strong.”
Trent ignored him completely. He pushed deeper, feeding me half his length until my nose pressed into the coarse black hair at his base. The smell was suffocating, sweat, cum, ass, all of it, and I moaned around him despite myself, the vibration making him curse under his breath.
“That’s right, fag. Taste your pussy on me. This is what you’re built for, cleaning big dick after it wrecks your cunt. Dylan’s gonna see this and know his baby brother’s just a cum-hungry hole now.”
I kept going, tongue swirling around the head, sucking the last thick beads of cum from the slit, lips sliding down the shaft until it was mostly clean, shining only with my spit. My jaw ached, throat raw, but I didn’t stop until Trent finally shoved me off with a satisfied grunt.
He wiped the head across my swollen lips one last time, smearing the remnants like gloss, then let go of my hair. I collapsed forward onto my forearms, gasping, cum and spit dripping from my chin onto the sheets.
Brad stopped recording, smirking wide. “That’s the money shot. Let’s blow up Dylan’s phone.”
Trent leaned back on his elbows, cock finally softening against his thigh. “Good little cunt. You earned your place here.”
Chad immediately pulled me into his side, strong arms wrapping around me, one hand cradling my head against his chest. He didn’t say anything to the others, just held me, letting me shake through the aftershocks, murmuring soft nonsense into my hair.
The room finally quieted, the air thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and cooling cum. The bedside clock glowed 3:47 a.m. in dull red digits. My body felt like it had been run through a storm, sore, sticky, humming with aftershocks that hadn’t quite faded. Cum leaked slowly from my wrecked hole, pooling beneath me on the sheets, but I was too drained to care.
Brad and Trent lounged against the wall for a minute, breathing hard, phones in hand. Chad stayed beside me on the bed, one arm draped loosely over my waist, thumb tracing idle patterns on my hip like he was trying to anchor me back to earth.
Brad scrolled through the footage first, clips of my tear-streaked face, my mouth stretched around Trent’s cock, the close-up of me cleaning him, the shaky reverse cowgirl ride, my hands-free orgasm. He let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
“Goddamn. This is gold.” He tapped a few buttons. “Group chat to Dylan. All of it, pics, videos, the works. He’s gonna wake up to a full highlight reel.”
Trent smirked, already pulling on his sweat-soaked boxers. “Sent from my phone too. Caption: ‘Your legacy little bro says hi. Thanks for the revenge material.’ He’ll see it the second his eyes open.”
Brad zipped up his shorts, still half-hard just from rewatching. “Mission accomplished. Balls are officially empty. Night, ladies.” He shot me a lazy wink, more amused than cruel, then slapped Trent’s shoulder. “Let’s bounce before Chad starts braiding his hair or some shit.”
Trent laughed, dark and mean, as he tugged on his shirt. He paused at the door, looking back at Chad and me curled together on the bed.
“Look at you two. Cuddling like it’s prom night. Pathetic.” His green eyes flicked to me, cold. “Don’t get too cozy, fag. You’re still house property. Chad’s just the soft one who likes to pretend he’s got a heart.” He snorted. “Sweet dreams, princesses.”
The door clicked shut behind them. The house settled into a distant, muffled quiet, someone downstairs still blasting music faintly, the occasional laugh echoing up the stairs.
Chad exhaled slowly, then turned to me. His voice was quiet, almost gentle in the sudden stillness.
“You wanna stay here tonight, Riley? With me? Bed’s big enough. I’ll keep the door locked. No one’s coming back in.”
I swallowed. My throat still ached from Trent’s shorts, from everything. My mind was a fog, shame, exhaustion, the lingering taste of cum on my tongue, the deep ache in my ass, but Chad’s arm around me felt… safe. Solid. Like the only thing not trying to break me tonight.
I nodded, small and tired. “Yeah. Please.”
He didn’t make a big deal of it. Just reached over, flicked off the string lights and the lava lamp, leaving only the faint glow from the hallway under the door. Then he pulled the comforter up over us both, sticky sheets and all, and tugged me closer.
I shifted without thinking, curling into his bigger frame. My head tucked under his chin, cheek against the steady thump of his heartbeat. One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, the other resting low on my back, hand splayed protectively over the small of it. His body was warm, solid, smelling faintly of fresh sweat. It wasn’t romantic, not really, but it was comforting. Grounding. After everything, I needed that more than air.
Chad pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, barely a brush of lips. “Sleep, baby. We’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes.”
I closed my eyes. My body hurt, every muscle, every inch inside me, but the ache was dull now, fading under the weight of bone-deep exhaustion. Dylan would wake up soon. His phone would light up with notifications. He’d see it all: his baby brother on his knees, begging, cumming untouched, eating loads off cock like it was nothing. The thought made my stomach twist, a fresh wave of dread washing over me.
But right now, Chad’s heartbeat was steady under my ear. His breathing evened out, slow and deep. His hand kept stroking lazy circles on my back, the motion hypnotic.
I was too tired to worry anymore. Too tired to fight the way my body relaxed against his, melting into the warmth like it belonged there.
Sleep took me fast, deep, dreamless, wrapped in the bigger man’s arms. Whatever storm waited in the morning, it could wait.
For now, I just let myself be held.
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