Page 162 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

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Danny’s huge. I can’t even begin to comprehend his vastness, trying to swallow him down without my eyes watering. He slides past my lips, face contorted in shocked ecstasy, like he never imagined this could happen in his wildest, most explicit fantasies. He’s so thick that I almost choke on him. It takes a concerted effort to focus on Danny, and it’s difficult when I’m hyper-aware of the hot building pleasure coursing through my core between Finlay’s hard, pounding cock and Luke’s lavish, expert licks.

But I get there. Danny finds a rhythm and I swallow him down. He fucks my face, though the words are too coarse for that. It’s notfuckingexactly — it’s gentler, softer, more akin to an act of worship — the way Danny cradles my head, his shaking fingers winding between strands of hair as he clutches me close to his length.

I swirl my tongue around the tip, letting him slide into the wet warmth of my mouth. His groans stutter through the air, somehow deeper, more masculine, than I’ve ever known him to be. I place my hand on the base of his cock, trying to remember how exactly I pleasured Rory in the cab, how he’d quivered beneath me as I’d slowly pumped my hand up and down his shaft.

Now Rory watches us all, alert to every tremble in my veins, every in and out of cock and tongue.

I wish he’d move. I wish he’d do something. But being caught under his silver gaze is stifling enough, and I don’t want this wave of ecstasy to ever end. I don’t want to return to a single state of oneness when I could be so thoroughly, abjectly filled.

“I,” Danny cries, his throat hitching, his body tightening, the fingers in my hair clenching around me. “I—” I suck at him greedily, toying with his tip, coaxing salty white cum from his dark slit. I want to make my best friend come. I want to feel him explode on my tongue. It takes nanoseconds. Danny’s fingers curl hard against my scalp, fixing me firmly in place, his hips thrusting furiously into me as his monstrous cock pumps hot, spurting semen down my throat.

His cock flexes beneath my tongue, my mouth flooding with so much of Danny’s seed that I struggle to swallow. It spills past my lips, gushing down my chin and landing in hot splashes along the skin of my collarbone.

I sense the stares of the others, the way the suite lengthens and distorts and becomes vibrantly, erotically charged. It’s in the increasing snap of Finlay’s hips, the distracted slowness of Luke’s tongue. The overbearing, overseeing, imperious gaze of Rory.

Danny’s thumb flicks at the small pools of his warm seed along my body, swirling his finger around each puddle, trying to smooth away the evidence. He looks doped, drained, and yet utterly exhilarated. He presses a soft kiss to my lips stained with his cum and whispers, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t expand his reasoning, but he doesn’t have to. It’s written in the peaceful release on his face: thank you for making me a part of this, thank you for letting me come, thank you for being you. He tucks a strand of hair over my ear, watching for a calm, suspended moment as I begin to tremble beside him.

I’m so close. I’m so close it hurts.

Danny scoops my head gently into his lap, playing with my hair. It’s all his docile self seems able to do, smoothing away the strands and feeling my body tense above him.

My eyes urgently seek out Rory while Danny delicately winds his fingers through my hair. Is he really not going to join in? Is he actually going to let the others claim their pleasure on his behalf? I give a small, needy whine, gazing into his warm gray eyes, my fingers grasping uselessly in his direction.

Like we’re tied, connected, Rory slowly approaches me, unfurling from his languid position across the bed. He only has eyes for me as he removes his shirt button by button. It’s as though the others fade dramatically into the background. The only sign that they’re there is the insistent arrows of pleasure Luke and Finlay shoot into me.

Rory settles beside Finlay, casually studying the earnest thrust of Finlay’s cock into me. Of Luke’s lips as they nibble at and stoke the pleasure behind my clit. All the while, Danny relaxes on his side, slowly stroking my face, lingering on my parted lips. It feels like I’m about to explode, like I’m about to be rocked by a wave so massive and all-consuming that I’ll never be the same again.

And still Rory keeps watching Finlay’s cock as it shoves into me, full of scholarly interest. Finlay concentrates hard on my face, his fingers digging sharply into my hipbones, perspiration lining his forehead. His ink-black hair sticks to his skin, and he never once dares to look at the side, at Rory.

“On a scale of one to ten,” Rory says to Finlay in a strange, coy tone, “how good does it feel to fuck my bride?”

Finlay’s hips stutter in their rhythm at the question, and then resume anew, snapping into me with a bright, sparking ferocity. I groan up at the ceiling, at the glint of the candelabra, squirming between Finlay and the warm silk sheets.

“Infinity,” Finlay chokes out, trying to keep me locked in place.

“God, no wonder you’ve been failing maths if you don’t understand scales.” Finlay clenches his jaw, looking like he’s about to say something acidic in response, but then Rory slings an arm around his shoulders and all protest dies on his lips.

I’m so gone. I’m so far gone and all inhibitions have fled from this room. And the two of them, Rory and Finlay, are so close… sitting so fucking close to each other… that it’s making me dizzy with a new, secret desire…

“Kiss,” I whisper up at them through dry lips. I can still taste Danny’s release in my mouth. “Please kiss.”

Rory raises an eyebrow at me. “Fin,” he drawls lazily, “stop denying the saint and give her a kiss.”

“N-no,” I utter quickly around a thready moan. What the hell is Luke doing to me that he can make my insides turn to liquid so easily? “Kiss. You. Please kiss.” And I look both of them in the eyes meaningfully, until they get what I’m trying to request in my broken, hopeless English.

I see it happen in real-time, the dawning realization of what I’m asking. Finlay tenses in a heartbeat, his green gaze gargantuan as he takes me in. Rory, who’d been on the verge of opening up to this, who’d been having fun bossing everyone around in bed, shutters completely.

I give a weak, strangled moan as Luke sucks on my clit like a hungry demon.

“Please,” I whisper again, my vision glittering through tears as the combination of Luke’s mouth and Finlay’s cock push me toward ecstasy. “Please.”

“You wanna piss aff yer dad,” Finlay mutters after a moment in a deliberately neutral voice. “Whit better way?”

“Oh, yeah, because he’s totally gonna find out about this.”

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