“Suck his cock,” Doug commands. “I want to see how deep you can take him.”
I swear under my breath as I thrust forward, and Aldo closes his perfect lips around my head.
Doug groans and begins to pound into Aldo, his jaw clenched and his muscles tight as though he’s struggling to hold back. The force of his punishing thrusts pushes Aldo further onto my cock, and he gags, swallowing around me.
I grip his shoulder, about to pull back a little, but Aldo reaches out and grips my ass, holding me in place.
“That’s it,” Doug grits out between thrusts. “Choke on his dick like the fucking cock slut you are. You fucking love it, don’t you?”
Aldo moans around my dick and my eyes all but roll back in my head as he continues to work me deeper than he ever has before, the head of my cock sliding down the back of his throat with every one of Doug’s thrusts.
When Doug reaches for Aldo’s cock, stroking him in time with the pounding of his hips, the noise Aldo makes is obscene, and I swear loudly, hoping no one is in the gym downstairs as I empty down his throat.
Doug picks up speed when I stagger backwards, stars at the edges of my vision, and I grab onto the back of the couch to steady myself. Aldo moans again and I watch in sated awe as Doug fucks him with a ferocity that has my own dick trying to rally.
“Fuck,” Aldo pants. “I’m coming.Fuck. Yes! Fu—”
I lean forward and catch his cry with my mouth, tasting myself on his tongue as he moans deeply, his body shuddering through his release.
Doug’s head falls back, his rhythm stuttering as he comes, and I press my forehead to Aldo’s as he sags against the couch.
The office fills with the sounds of our breathing, then Doug pulls out and Aldo swears softly.
“You’re so fucking thick,” he groans. “You almost split me in two.”
Doug laughs softly and presses a kiss to his spine. “It felt like you were made for me. Fucking perfection.”
Aldo sighs and I straighten, pulling my sweats back up while Doug reaches for the towel he brought up with him, cleaning them both up. The silence becomes a little awkward as they pull their clothes back on, and I want more than anything to point out to Doug that this is what he could have all the time if he wanted it. That this could be our normal, if only he’d take the risk. But I don’t. I grit my teeth, because I know that pushing him will only result in making him retreat further.
Tomorrow morning we’ll travel to California and, come hell or high water, we’ll get him to Aldo’s sister’s wedding. There, with Joy, we’ll convince him that we’re worth the risk. Because I believe with my whole heart that we are.
Finding someone that challenges you mentally and physically in this lifetime is rare enough, and I found that in Joy and walked away from it. The fact that I’ve been given a second chance even when I don’t think I deserve it, blows my mind. But to find two more people that I have this same deep, multifaceted connection with, is something I never dared to dream of. And I’m going to fight tooth and nail to keep it.
DOUG
I am a weak, weak man. This is not a surprise to anyone. Least of all me. I should have risen above the challenge. I knew Aldo and Masters were baiting me and I walked straight into it. But it felt fucking great beating Masters—confirming that I’m still an outstanding athlete. And it felt great racing. I’ve not felt that kind of thrill for a long time, and it soothed parts of my jaded soul that I’d long given up hope for.
Aldo was the icing on the fucking cake. I’ve dreamt about being with him since our first kiss on that sofa and finally taking him was everything I thought it would be and more. The soft whimpers, the way his skin flushed, and how he felt squeezing around me as he came. The fact that he took me while swallowing down Masters was . . . There are no words.
Tearing my thoughts away before I get an extremely inappropriate bulge in my pants, I concentrate on where the women are halfway through their medley relay. We’re doing okay. We’re not going to take first place, though.
The Washington and Los Angeles teams are causing more of a problem than I thought they would. There’re only two events left, and we’re tied for second place. And there’s the problem. Franklin West is filled with entitled kids who don’t understand anything less than first. Motivating them to keep trying when there’s not a chance in hell we’ll win, is harder than pushing a cow uphill.
I clap as the women finish up, with Joy taking first place for Franklin West. She’s done brilliantly today. I wasn’t sure she would after she confided in me on the journey down here that she’d finally come clean to her parents about not wanting to swim anymore. I’m the king of being a disappointment to your parents, so I was more than happy to lend a sympathetic ear. It’s clearly weighing on her, though. If I thought for one second she’d let me, I’d speak to her parents. After all, I’ve seen both sides. Joy is an extremely talented swimmer, but I’ve also seen her on the decks, and it lights her up from the inside in a way I’ve never once seen in the pool.
“This is bullshit,” Masters mutters beside me. “The team is doing great. They don’t deserve third place.”
I raise my eyebrows as I shoot him serious side-eye. “Yeah, they do. It’s not like the other teams are cheating. We’ll still place.”
Masters snorts. “Third isn’t going to be good enough.”
“Yeah, well, it’s going to have to be.”
He grunts and stalks off to speak to the men’s team as they stretch, preparing for the final relay. It’s cute how quickly he’s adapted to the Franklin West pace. When he first joined the team in September, he was full of the whole ‘as long as you give your all’ crap.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t like being right. And I am. Franklin West takes third place overall. There’s barely anything between the top four schools, but it doesn’t matter. This will drastically affect our chances of winning the season, and unless we win every single one of the remaining meets, we can kiss first place goodbye.
The mood in the locker room is somber and I give my speech and get out of there quick. Masters does the same with the women’s team and then we go hang in silence at the sports building’s café with a commiserating coffee. It’s an amicable silence, which is strange. He doesn’t try to wind me up and I don’t bite at him. It’s almost as though we’re at a truce.