Page 5 of Hunk Sandwich
“Poor darling,” he crooned, sneaking a hand between us and gripping my length. “We wouldn’t want that.” He squeezed my dick. “That was so hot, Bo.”
“It was,” I agreed, bringing my lips to his ear. “You loved it when we had a listener, didn’t you? Naughty älskling. Getting off when someone listens to me sucking your dick.”
Ollie pushed his upper lip over the lower, shrugging as if to say ‘Couldn’t help myself’.
Gods, I love his cheek.
Not a lot remained of the tight arsed, proper hotel manager I’d fallen head over heels in love with. Watching Ollie’s metamorphosis into this more open version of himself was beautiful.
I loved the caterpillar, but I worship the butterfly.
Pulling his lower lip free, I kissed him softly on the mouth.
“You are perfect.”
Chapter 7
Kaspar
Ilocked myself in the stall at the far end of the room. My knees shook, and my dick was so hard I needed to deal with the situation before I could go back out.
I could have waited for another patron at the glory hole, but I didn’t want to. Wrestling with my trousers, I spat into my palm and fisted my dick.
Goddess, that’s better.
I wished the two guys from before had taken a little longer. The memory of their last time at the glory hole was one I recalled frequently.
That had been the first time I had come to the Pink Chicken to get head from a stranger. It hadn’t happened, but it still had been one of the hottest nights of my life.
For months, I had wondered what would have happened if the enormous green guy hadn’t held me back. Would I have gone through with it?
Sex was a little intimidating to me because I had always wanted things other people found unconventional. I didn’t want meaningless hookups. I wanted more than one person to be mine, and not just for a one-night stand. My stupid wolf yearned for a sense of belonging and connection.
My own little pack.
I had tried to get that from a monogamous relationship, but that had backfired and blown up in my face.
Maybe you’re just broken.
I tugged on my dick, already pretty close. I spat again, spreading the saliva over my head and down to my knot.
Fuuuck.
The image of the two men from earlier on my mind—both of them the stuff of my wet dreams—made me come in no time. I loved how different they were, one huge and green-skinned with rippling muscles under his white dress shirt and the other shorter, with a bit of stubble and a bookish vibe. But somehow, they worked well together.
I emptied my balls into the toilet, one hand flung out on the wall to steady me.
It should have been concerning that the one thing that got me off without fail was the idea of being sandwiched between them, feeling four hands on my body, two mouths, two dicks…
Just give up. Get your dick sucked by someone else.
Kink night at the Pink Chicken came with a guarantee of willing people on the other side of the glory hole.
But nope. My brain had latched onto the two guys, and they were going to stay in there until the next obsessive crush replaced them.
It was wired that way. Wired for heartbreak. I huffed. After I’d peed, I cleaned up, tucked my dick away, and left the stall.
The two men were nowhere in sight by the time I left the bathrooms.
