There was a slim, slight, tiny possibility Tristan Phoenix had a little too much to drink that night. His first clue was when a few slaps on the face woke him up to find an extremely hot, extremely muscular man sitting on his hands while another one ripped open his shirt. Fuck. His favorite shirt, at that.
His second clue was when he realized he had no where he was or why the extremely attractive but not at all his man on his hands was aggressively thrusting his denim-covered dick in his face. This close, he could see the man’s erection visibly swelling underneath his jeans. He had a distinctly masculine smell, a sharp blend of sweat and soap that was nonetheless not unpleasant, but still dizzying.
His third clue was that in spite of common sense, taste and better judgment, Tristan was unbelievably turned on. It was the only explanation for why he so quickly and allowed the stranger’s fat, perfectly shaped cock easy access to his suddenly hungry throat. And why he didn’t fight all that much when the other stranger pulled off his shoes and yanked his jeans off, leaving him completely naked save for the shirt that was no longer doing its job.
And the evils of alcohol were definitely the only reason Tristan’s own dick was growing while watching the two men strip, revealing rock hard torsos as they kissed above him. And why his dick grew so stiff he had to cover it with his hands to hide how turned on he was when one of the men began doing push-ups over his face, each up and down motion spearing Tristan’s mouth with his meat. But by the time he was raising his own head voluntarily off the bed to get a better mouthful of that freaking gorgeous-amazing-delicious cock, common sense and better judgment had completely flown the fucking coop and he was clearly, visibly, insatiably into everything that was happening to him – in spite of all the reasons he shouldn’t be.
For one, this wasn’t like him at all. He was no prude. He knew how to have a good time – hell, he could be downright slutty with the best of them and was damn proud of it – but being roughly manhandled by not one but two total strangers in what must be their hotel room? Not exactly his style. Neither was getting spit on, but there was this totally fucking hot mountain of a man leaning over him and letting a thin string of spit dangle from his lips – and here was Tristan, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out, practically panting with his need for it. Something about these two was severely fucking with his head. He didn’t DO this, and yet here he was – their casual arrogance and rough masculinity had him aching with a never before realized need to roll over, thrust his ass in the air and say yes, please.
Instead they just spun him around on the bed and plugged his mouth full of the other man’s cock, and if anything, it was even bigger and juicier than the first. He let it fill his whole mouth, swirling his tongue around to taste every inch of it as they arranged him like a puppet with its strings cut, limbs lying limp and useless at his side and head hanging over the edge of the bed while the steel rod in his mouth lanced deep in his throat. The first man sat on Tristan’s chest, his weight both ridiculously heavy and oddly comfortable as he played with his dick and raised Tristan’s hands to feel it, touch it, stroke it.
And then his legs were pulled in the air and his hands were empty but that dick – that gorgeous fucking stick of meat he needed in him so bad he could taste it – the thick, round mushroom head crowning that cock was pushing at his hole, even as the other man’s dick was buried so far in Tristan’s mouth that pubic hairs were tickling at his nose. He gasped, inadvertently opening his mouth further to receive even more of that enormous slab of meat and while he was preoccupied trying to breathe, the first man’s dick slid all the way inside his ass. Stretching him and filling him simultaneously, and then he was sliding in and out, faster and faster even as the dick in his mouth sank deeper and deeper and too much was happening and he was still pretty drunk and his brain was on complete and utter overload.
But also – pretty much total and complete fucking bliss.
Tristan sank back into the bed and just let the two tops own him in every sense of the word. The thrusting in his throat and the pounding at his ass made a strange, offbeat rhythm that was somehow soothing when he stopped fighting it. He burned and ached and suffered in all the best possible ways, confusion blurring into pleasurable oblivion where everything that was happening just seemed right and natural and the surreal bizarreness of how it had come to happen didn’t seem to matter at all. He barely even noticed when he shifted to sitting atop the first man’s dick, riding it up and down while he played with Tristan’s nipples. He didn’t think to question it when the man pulled him down in a hug, smashing him tightly against his chest with his powerful arms, and he didn’t even wonder when the second man crouched behind his already full ass and slowly but surely added his own giant dick to the overflowing cauldron of sensations that had him on fire. Never in a million years would Tristan have ever pictured himself getting double penetrated but with no time or ability to think about it or be frightened, there he was, crushed between the thick muscles of the two men, his ass stuffed with both their cocks as they double fucked him, unable to move, to breathe, to do anything but hold on for dear life until it was over.
And it felt fucking amazing.
Somehow when it was over, when it was just the one cock fucking him again while the other casually slapped at his face, when Tristan was jerking his cock to the most powerful orgasm of his life – he actually felt somewhat empty despite the fact that he was still being plowed by one of the biggest dicks he’d ever ridden. And somehow, when both the men were towering over him jerking their own cocks right above his chest and face, climaxing in thick jets that coated him from end to end – somehow he actually felt like it wasn’t quite enough, that there could somehow be more, despite the fact that he’d never let any of his boyfriends actually cum on him before, let alone two at the same time.
Yeah, Tristan had definitely had a little too much to drink that night – but he had a feeling he wouldn’t have the same excuse to fall back on next time, and there would definitely be a next time.
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