The house was typical. An old red brick Victorian terrace with stone bay windows. The furniture, mostly found, reclaimed, or repurposed, was sparse. The place was filled with shadeless bulbs, scattered flyers and junk mail, and the smell of boys. The bedroom they stumbled into was much the same. High walls covered in polaroids and posters, an ikea bookshelf half full of deodorant cans, aftershave, and empty lube bottles, and a mattress by the chimney breast, a thick black duvet scrunched into a ball, smeared with glistening silvery stains.
The gig had been awesome. They’d been the third set, and the one the crowd roared hardest for. They’d finished sweaty, gasping, and hearts thumping. The girls had swarmed them of course, even the ones with boyfriends. Some of the boyfriends looked interested themselves.
But the girl had been forward. She wasn’t passive, begging, she was in charge and had quickly got them both under her spell, and neither objected.
Now the boys were laughing, their guest inspecting the space, a single eyebrow raise as she removed her top.
“Whose room is this?” she asked.
“Mine,” Aaron answered, “Trust me, you wouldn’t wanna be in his. Fucking stinks in there.”
Joe smirked, gently elbowing his friend, “Coz its smells of fucking roses in ‘ere.”
The girl said nothing, merely laid back on the mattress, tits on full view.
The boys turned, grinning and giddy each other, and were on the mattress in a single pace, one on either side of her, crouched in tight jeans, taking a nipple in one mouth, the curve of her neck in the other.
She arched back, silent in her enjoyment, as the two boys stole glances at one and other. Both had broad grins, eyes narrow with cocky amusement and bravado, not believing their luck.
As both boys intensified their attentions, the girl laid back, forcing her hosts to stretch out alongside her. Aaron was the first to paw her her waistband, only to have his wrist caught.
They both stopped in her gaze.
“Strip”
It was a command. They paused, then stood, Joe eagerly rushing for his belt, and yanking his shirt overhead, Aaron kicking off his crumpled old vans and unbuttoning his jeans. She watched them, and they her, but they also watched each other, their glances full of fun and risk and expectation. Joe was down to his tatty boxers first, his hazel eyes filled with mischief, the close buzzed strip of back hair matched with a line that went from belly button to south of elastic. His body was otherwise smooth, his muscles coiled around lankly limbs, and stomach smooth.
He gestured vigorously at Aaron to hurry up.
Aaron, in contrast, wore his hair in a tangled mop of dark brown hair that just began to brush the base of his neck, his body, now down to just socks and black boxers, was more that of core strength honed through past years of football and skating. It was dense with dark hair that hugged his legs, pubes spilling out over and beyond his trunks, and spread out across his lightly defined chest.
“Erm, aren’t we forgetting something, lads?” the commanding voice said, and waved a finger at their tented crotches.
They both look at each other's strained underwear. Joe’s face flushed with the familiar thrill he got when playing a game of truth or dare, and dragged the hole riddled things to his ankles, letting a large, uncut, pink cock spring free, the glands red and gleaming with expectation.
He cocked an eyebrow of his own, calling his bluff. Never one to back down, Aaron mirrored his friend and let his own manhood loose. It slapped against his stomach, his engorged head already fully out of its sheath.
The two boys regarded each others inches, assessing, grading. Aaron had a prominent vein on top. Joe kept his pubes shaved into neat triangle, creating an arrow with his trail.
“Really dude?”
Joe guffawed and pointed at the untamed mass of hair that swirled above and around his dong.
“Yeah, really dude?”
They laughed again, only for the rustle of clothes being removed to yank their attention.
The next several minutes were a tangle of limbs, sweat, and quiet moans. Cocks were kept at a distance, until they weren’t. First, a glance of shaft on forearm, then, the smell of precum that belonged to the other, finally, Joe’s engorged shaft entering the girls mouth as Arran pulled away.
As his tongue explored the folds of her cunt, Aaron watched the muscles of his friends smooth arse flex, and his good sized balls swing gently as he used her mouth. His own cock was solid against the flat of the mattress, so turned on he was gently humping the firm fabric.
Then, she was directing them. Joe was cast aside, and Aaron instructed by point and stare. Eager, he shuffled to his knees, and aimed, making sure to give Joe a smug stare as he sank inch by inch, completing the act with a wink as he bottomed out.
“Fucker,” he responded, and slapped his bare ass, like a rider eager to make a horse bolt.
And bolted he did. Her silky insides contracting and expanding around him as he fucked. She gripped his shoulders, legs wrapping around him. He settled his head by hers, and felt the shadow fall over them.
He pulled up to find Joe’s cock very close to his face, her lips wrapped around it.
Scrunching his face in mock disgust, he upped his pace, as his bandmate threw his head back, totally relaxed.
They flipped. Joe bucking his well kept length inside her, the whole seven inches vanishing and reappearing between her lips, as Aaron’s half vanished into her mouth.
The room was getting hot, the smell a mix of sweat, cock, cunt, precum, and frankly, ass musk.
They flipped again, and again.
Then, just as Aaran felt his cock surge and Joe felt his threaten to flood her mouth, she pushed both away.
“Lay down,” she said to Joe.
Curious, but happy to oblige, the slightly more well endowed of the two did as he was told, arms propping his chest up as he waited expectantly.
He watched as she straddled his waist, then, without using her hands, impaled herself upon him, sliding down until her lips met the stubble and manicured hair of his pubis.
He started to buck, but she placed a hand on his chest.
“Ah, ah, ah.”
Turning, she grabbed Aaron by the wrist, the one not currently working his hands around his cock, which was now so hard it looked sore to Joe. A single droplet of clear precum dangled half a foot from the piss slit.
“Get behind me,” she instructed, “and get in beside your mate.”
Both of their eyes went wide, instantly finding one another.
“What’s wrong boys? Scared?” and teased them, laying flat on Joe’s stomach, exposing the sight of his cock penetrating her to his friend.
Aaron stared, his hair stuck to his forehead with well earned perspiration.
Unspoken acknowledgement passed between them. Aaron got on his knees, and Joe felt his friends cock head, slick with precum, nestle above his shaft. It traveled along it for an inch or so, then found her, pushing open her pussy, expanding it. She shifted, moaned, he felt her muscles relax around him, and Aaron's head push his own shaft down. Aaron worked slow. Deliberate. Until he felt his friend bottom out. They all stayed still a while, panting, as they got used to it.
Joe could feel Aaron’s pulse in his cock, throbbing lightly, rhythmically. Aaron could feel how hard Joe was, competing with his for space.
Then, she told them to go.
Joe bucked, Aaron thrusted. The intensity was instant. Half her pussy gripped half their cocks, the other half was being massaged by their companion. Cocks gliding across each other. Joe gasped every time the rim of Aaron's head ran over his own. His toes curled harder and harder each time.
Aaron, now curled over the entangled form of the girl and Joe, was becoming closer and closer each time his balls dragged over Joe’s. Aaron groaned. Joe watched him.
A dozen strokes felt like a hundred. Joe’s thighs swung with every fuck, Aarons arse clenched with every thrust. The girl shook between them, wordless but quietly vocal.
Her face was shrouded in her long black hair. But the boys were watching each other. Eye fucking each other. Competing. Fucking harder, trying not to be the one to cum first. Using each others cocks to undermine the other.
But then Aaraon’s cock head ran over his Joe’s, and Joe’s balls brushed Aarons, and the boys grunted.
“Fuuuuck!” Aaron shouted.
“Urrrrrrgh!” came Joe’s own.
They felt each other cum. The surge of spunk travelling up the others shafts, then wet, silken heart spread around their wrestling cocks, making them slide and slip and duel, fighting to the finish.
Aaron’s face was scrunched up, but eyes were still just about open. Joe’s mouth was wide open, just like his mouth as he emptied himself into her. They never stopped watching the other.
They collapsed, all three of them, into a tangle of exhausted limbs as the dark blue of impending dawn spilled along the edges of the heavy curtains.
The girl left not long after that, giving them both a long, drawn out kiss, and her number scratched out on a scrap of paper. She never gave her name, and when asked, had merely winked. She left them in the room, naked, cocks half hard, spent, but still puffed up.
They passed a joint between them, both propped up against the chimney breast, enjoying the post match glow.
“So,” Aaron said, “that was new.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, grinning from ear to ear, “and now we know who’s got the bigger dick.”
He grabbed his heavy, lazy appendage and swung it around, letting flecks of cum land on his friends hip.
“Yeah, but I’ve definitely got the better arse,” and rolled on to his front, propped up on his elbows and flexing his glutes.
“That hairy thing! You’re dreamin’.”
And swatted it.
They laughed, stretched out on the mattress, and blew smoke until a cloud of comforting blue encircled them.
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