Page 35 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

“Your Daddy’s going to be the luckiest man alive,” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like mine. It’s raw and gravelly like I’ve been swallowing sandpaper. “Go on, then. Don’t stop on account of me.”

My Bens share a secret smile before locking lips and returning to the task at hand. I lean back against the counter, watching the scene unfold. Bennet’s hand slides down until it’s cupping Benji’s ass, his fingers digging mercilessly into the cheek. He’s whimpering and whining beneath Benji, but Benji’s too far gone to hear them.

Benji’s grinding against him, taking his abdomen by force, the same way Bennet did with my hip the other day. I’m left awestruck when they break the kiss long enough for Bennet to wrap his fingers around Benji’s cloth-covered cock. The moment his hand touches down, Benji lets loose an ungodly moan, filling the room with an almost palpable air of sex. He’s fucking up into Bennet’s fist, his face buried in the crook of Bennet’s neck, and the entire time it’s happening, Bennet’s staring me in the eyes like a man. Like my good boy. I’m just so damn proud of him. A week ago—hell, two days ago—the thought of seeing these two boys kiss each other with passion would have seemed impossible. Now that Bennet’s masturbating his best friend, it seems like the most natural thing in the world.

“Are you close, baby?” Bennet asks. When Benji pulls away from Bennet’s neck, he’s got big, beautiful tears in his eyes. He’s nodding emphatically, his hips rising and falling as he fucks Bennet’s hand.

“Dad,” Benji moans. “Oh, God. Dad, come here. I need to feel you. Need to know it’s okay.”

I approach slowly, my now rock-hard cock straining against my pajamas. Damn. I came less than thirty minutes ago, and I’m already ready for round two. I really need my dick to figure itself out, because this is so outside the norm for me and for it. For God’s sake, I’m like a horny teenager.

When I’m standing over him, I stroke Benji’s shoulder. He looks up at me with love-drunk eyes, one hand on Bennet’s chest, the other reaching for me. He has his hand around my wrist, and before I can react, he pulls it toward his stomach, letting it rest there, refusing to let go. Jesus. His skin feels like fire. Like pure heat. It’s pouring off him endlessly, his eyes locked on mine, the gaze both intense and welcoming.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, baby.” To prove it, I tickle his tummy, smiling as he giggles and gasps for air. “How’s that feel, buddy? Is Bennet making you feel good?” My cock strains harder in my pajamas when he licks his lips.

“Bennet looks lonely,” he whispers. “Hold his hand, Dad.”

Just the thought of Bennet being sad because he feels excluded makes my heart crack in my chest. I don’t want either of them to feel excluded. They’re the biggest part of my life—the best part of my life—and there are no third wheels in this home. I grab Bennet’s free hand and squeeze tightly.

“I’m so dang proud of you, Bennet,” I say before a quick pop of pain spreads across my hand. Mary, mother of Jesus, what on earth was that? It doesn’t take me long to find the source of my pain. Benji’s hand is hovering over mine, and the skin on mine is red from where he’s just slapped me.

“Not that hand. Hold his other hand.”

I stare down at Bennet’s other hand which is still locked on his best friend’s penis. He’s pumping faster now, like it’s his life’s goal to make Benji come.

“But he’s touching your . . .” Every breath I take feels like sucking air through a straw. He’s looking at me with nothing but fire in his eyes.

“He’s touching my cock,” Benji says. “He’s so lonely, Dad. Our boy needs you.”

God help me, I don’t have an explanation for what I do next. The second Bennet looks up at me with pleading eyes, I’m a goner. My boy needs this. He’s so damn lonely down there on his own, I can’t stand it. I kneel next to him, kissing his bare chest.

“Dad’s here, Bennet. I’m right here with you.”

“Dad?” he whispers.

I kiss the tip of his nose. “If you’ll have me.”

His chest is rising and falling faster, his cheeks flushed with heat. “I’m yours,” is all he says before tearing his other hand away from Benji’s, grabbing me by the wrist, and holding me there as he strokes. I’m dazed at first, unable to form words, much less react. It feels like it’s happening to someone else, and I’m simply a bystander, watching us work over our Benji. My arm is moving with his, no longer needing him to guide me. I rub my thumb over his knuckles, reminding him what a good boy he is for taking care of his friend’s needs like this. Telling him how damn proud I am of him.

I try not to twitch my pinkie too much, because it’s right at the edge of Bennet’s hand, and if I’m not careful, I’ll more than likely have direct contact with Benji’s dick. It’s not that the thought makes me feel uncomfortable—I’ve seen far worse on the couch in my office downtown—I just don’t want to make Benji feel awkward. The last thing he needs is his dad holding his cock in his bare hand, stroking him. Touching him. Teasing him until he’s writhing around in a puddle of?—

“Fuck!” Benji screams, sounding like a foghorn. “Fuck. Bennet. Dad. I can’t—I’m gonna come.” His eyes are glued to mine. “Make me come, Dad.”

Fire sizzles in my cheeks as I increase the speed of my strokes, dragging Bennet along for the ride. As for Bennet, his hard cock is pressed firmly between Benji’s cheeks. Only two thin layers of cotton hide them from each other, and neither of them seem to mind. If anything, they look like they want more.

I stare up at Benji as I increase my rhythm, tightening the hold I’ve got on Bennet’s hand. The effect is immediate, making Benji cry out.

“Come on,” I encourage him. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go. That’s it. Come for Dad. Come for us, baby.”

His head falls back and he cries out a bastardized mashing of Bennet and my name that sounds a lot like “Badette.” His body is rocked with pleasure, back arched as he thrusts into our fists one final time, drenching the fabric of his briefs. He’s gasping for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I love you,” he says, but I’m not sure which of us he means.

Bennet’s still thrusting, and I want him to have this too, so while Benji’s lost in pleasure, I set my sights on Bennet.

“Nate,” he whispers as I touch his thigh. “Nate, please.”

“What do you need, little guy?” I ask, kissing the side of his face. “What can I do to help you?”

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