Page 33 of M.M. Scrooge
I know from experience Ash doesn’t need any help. He’s an excellent cocksucker. One of the best. But I’m not jealous or anything. Drake can have him. Ash is petty and stingy and—
“That’s got to change,” Drake says, tone of voice totally normal and not what I’d expect of a guy with his dick down another man’s throat. “What comes to mind when I mention safety?”
Safety? Ha! I thought they knew what Bogey’s been inflicting upon me all night. I don’t exactly feel safe, and no word will magically change that. “I’m drawing a blank.”
“Come on. There must be something.” Drake casually thrusts his hips. Slick slurping sounds come from where mouth meets dick. My semi chubs at the succulent noise. I want to jerk off, but something tells me Drake won’t allow it. “Something you associate with safety, Max. What is it? Try to concentrate.”
Condescending bastard. I scowl, but a word does come to mind. I’m reluctant to say it. Ash lets out a loud moan as he works. He looks pretty on his knees, with all that hair cascading over his shoulders and Drake’s fingers tangling in a thick hunk of it. Hot.
“Money.” I wet my lips. “That’s my word.”
Drake scoffs and shakes his head. “I should have known.”
Asshole. He thinks he knows me, but he doesn’t. He only knows Ash’s version of our story, which I’m sure makes me look bad. But it was Ash’s penny-pinching that broke us up, not my greed.
“That’s enough for now, peanut,” Drake says to Ash, who lets the cock slip from his mouth and noses at a pair of low-hanging hairy bowling balls instead. “Very good. Lick them for me, hmm? You know how I like it.”
I’m turned on and grossed out at once. Drake is shrugging out of his clothes while Ash kneels for him, tonguing him in all the places the sun doesn’t shine. Why am I here? Just to watch? Do I even want to participate with a guy like Drake calling the shots?
But my nipples are peaked beneath my T-shirt, and I’m uncomfortably hard in my jeans, so that answer is a resounding yes. Put me in, Coach. What’s my position? Let’s do this if we’re doing it.
I shift on the couch, preparing to stand, but Drake halts me with a look.
“Stay there.” His chest is bare now, covered in dark blond curls and wide as a fucking doorway.
Where did Ash find this guy? The MMA? I’m so screwed.
I watch as they do the dance of working Drake out of his pants while Ash continues to pleasure him with his mouth. Being alone with two naked men while they hook up is a twisted form of punishment. My balls are going to be blue and achy. Definitely going to jerk off to this later.
Drake hauls Ash to his feet by his hair, which Ash is definitely into if the blissed-out expression on his face is anything to go by. His mouth is wet and sloppy, lips swollen and red. And his cock juts from his body like a tree branch, angled up. Moisture glistens on the tip. Together they are a sight. Ash’s lean, smooth, willowy body and Drake’s stocky muscles and layer of curly man fur.
I palm my dick, which is begging me for scraps.
But I’ve snagged Drake’s attention in the process, and he doesn’t look pleased. “Max, hands off that. We need to talk.”
I could ignore him. What’s he going to do anyway? Spank me? But I’ll hear him out. I’m dying to know what this is all about. “You gonna tell me what’s going on? Let me in on that plan of yours?”
Drake’s fingers circle Ash’s pebbled nipples. “Yes.” I hadn’t expected a straight answer. “Scoot over.”
I do. It’s weird to be fully clothed while they’re both totally nude. Drake brings Ash to the couch and settles on the opposite end with the smaller man in his lap. They’re turned toward me, Ash between Drake’s legs, leaning back against his chest. It’s a pretty sight. I’m so horny.
“You’ve been a jerk, and I’m going to spank you for it, Max. Have you been properly spanked before?”
The muscles in my jaw twitch. My spine pulls taught. “Um. No thanks. I’m not interested in being spanked.”
Drake purses his lips. “Aww, think you can’t take it?”
“What? No. It’s just not my thing.”
“But you deserve to be punished. You treated Ash terribly. Have you ever apologized?”
Ash is mostly ignoring our conversation, even as Drake speaks his name aloud. He’s busy arching his chest into Drake’s touch. Drake fondles both nipples at once, gently stroking them, tugging them this way and that, swirling fingers around the areolas. Ash’s eyes flutter closed, and his lips hang open. For a second, I forget to be mad at him.
Drake coughs. “Well? Have you?”
Have I what? Oh. Right. “Of course not. Why would I apologize?”
“For taking advantage of his generosity.”
