Page 109 of The Laughing Game

“Oh, V. Fuck.Jesus.Yes, yes,yes.” Gideon took his cock in hand and jerked it, as I fucked him quick and hard, my eyes rolling back from the bliss of it.

He made a choking noise, then a loud wail as he came, his ass squeezing me as his body spasmed.

“That’s it, my Angel. Fill this slut up with your spunk.Own him,” Vihaal grunted, his face a picture of rampant desire andheady voyeuristic enjoyment. “I want to watch your face when you come.”

He grabbed my chin and held me as I slammed against Gideon, his intense gaze boring into mine. I cried out as the orgasm took over, stuttering gasps and groans as I emptied my balls.

As the waves of pleasure lessened, and my movements slowed, I noticed that Gideon had his head buried in Vihaal’s lap and was sucking his cock. I looked at Vihaal’s ecstatic face as Gideon brought him over the edge.

The sturdy armchair creaked in protest, my heart pounded, and the grandfather clock counted time as we recovered.

Chapter Twenty-One

Life went back to normal, if that word could be used to refer to my wonderful existence. I still felt daily wonder at what it had become.

I divided my time between their place and mine, with weekly visits to see my mother—who always asked about them—and occasional get-togethers with Jacob and Sebastian. My life was full and I’d never felt so grounded.

The guest room had become my home-away-from home at Gideon and Vihaal’s, where I kept a few things and which I used as an office if there was too much going on downstairs. But I slept in the main bed.

We’d spoken about the possibility of making it a more permanent arrangement, but my cats had to be taken into account. Gideon didn’t seem to think that would be a problem, and I got the impression he was excited at the thought of it. But I wasn’t sure about Vihaal, who enjoyed his meticulously clean and tidy home.

And, to be honest, it was nice to have my own place, where I could walk around and do nothing, stare out of the window, or sit in a favorite corner and read a book, without the distraction of the two men with whom I’d fallen head-over-heels. I had my little corner of the world that was mine and mine alone, and it was a conscious decision to share our time together. It worked well for us and I couldn’t see it changing anytime soon. Although I did feel guilty about being away from the cats so much.

My blue Sonata was a joy to drive, and I was more motivated to gain new clients. With the versatility of online work, I could get stuff done no matter where I was sleeping.

Vihaal didn’t have a day job—an advantage of being independently wealthy. He was on some oversight boards at a couple of places, and he did do some volunteer work for an LGBTQ+ charity—mostly online.

And although Gideon worked part-time, his job was physical and demanding, so he was often tired when he got home.

“Hey, how was your shift?” I asked one afternoon when he came home and found me sitting in the living room, working on my laptop.

He sighed and kicked off his shoes.

“Busy. Tiring.”

He padded over to me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. Charts, numbers, financials.”

“Blech.”

I laughed. “You want a massage, baby?”

“Oh my God. Yes!” He gave me a look. “Like, a real massage. No funny business.”

I laughed. “I promise. Where do you want to do it?”

“Your room? That way we don’t have to disturb the main bed.” He rolled his eyes. “You know how Vihaal is.”

Vihaal made the bed every morning, and didn’t appreciate it being disturbed until we went to bed in the evening. It was one of his little quirks, and it didn’t bother me. But this was one situation where the guest bed came in handy.

We headed up there, and Gideon stripped off his scrubs.

“Oh shit. When did that happen?” I asked, gesturing to his caged cock.

He looked a bit guilty. “Well, I asked for it.”

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