Brick by Brick (14 page)

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Authors: Maryn Blackburn

Tags: #Contemporary Menage

BOOK: Brick by Brick
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“Can you take them out?” James cupped his own glans with a protective hand.

“Yeah, but I probably couldn’t put it back in. If you don’t like it, I could take it out and let it close up.”

“Don’t,” I said. “I thought I’d just forgotten how thick you are, but I must have been feeling this. I liked it.”

Gage grinned. “That’s the idea. It’s for the ladies, or in this case the lady. Like a tongue piercing is for the guy?”

“I don’t see any tongue piercing,” James said.

“I’d never get another speaking role if I pierced my tongue.”

“I didn’t mean I thought you should get one,” James said. “I can’t believe you got this. It’s weird.”

“Maybe weird for Tucson. Not so weird for California.”

James cocked an eyebrow. “The question is, how does it taste?”

Different, I decided as I took him into my mouth, careful not to hit the studs with my teeth. Did I imagine a metallic edge to Gage’s basic brininess? I’d tasted him before without thinking of canned shrimp.

I slathered his penis with small kisses, somewhat reluctant to use my tongue, but they used their hands to urge me forward until I held lots of Gage’s penis in my mouth. His foreskin slipped back over the studs, dulling them to intriguing hard spots.

When I sent my tongue in a brief spiral deep into the secret place beneath his foreskin, tasting the metal on purpose, both my lovers moaned. I repeated the motion and looked up at Gage’s small sound of pleasure.

“He likes that,” James said. “Do it again, nice and slow. Yeah, that looks so hot. Know what else is hot? Seeing his fat brown cock in your pretty mouth like before, all of it. As much as you can.”

Gage moaned, low. “God, Natalie, yeah, that’s so good. I love that you’re watching.” His tone speaking to James was conversational.

I pumped, my mouth a slow piston. Gage flexed his pelvis, pushing himself into me. Naturally, he went too deeply and I coughed.

“Hold still.” James set the flat of his hand on Gage’s belly, just above his thatch, the tips of his fingers on the scar. “Let her move and control the depth. Nat, work him with your hand while you suck just the head, then more and more.”

If I hadn’t been aroused, I might have resented the instructions. It wasn’t as if this were entirely new to me.

I didn’t particularly enjoy giving oral sex, but the man’s reaction did something to me, made me feel both powerful and wanton. I had complete control. Gage’s little pleasure sounds were as pretty as music.

“Wait, I’m getting too close.”

“Don’t wait.” James moved his hand from Gage’s stomach to his shoulder. “Do the foreskin thing some more. Make him come. I’ve never seen his face.”

Even from my low angle, I identified Gage’s going-to-come moment. His eyebrows rose as he gasped, and he looked down at me with unabashed arousal before turning to my husband. His expression twisted from angelic to I-hit-my-thumb-with-a-hammer as his semen spurted against my soft palate. Gage’s orgasmic mew was guttural, almost pained; then his face softened to the point of boyishness.

“Oh, nice, very nice. Beautiful. Was that good?’

“God, yes. Thank you, Natalie.” He nodded toward James, telling me to give my husband more.

Gladly. In no time I had quite a bit of him in my mouth, enough that I could smell the faint soap scent from his pubic hair.

At first I thought Gage had turned so his thigh pressed my upper arm. Then I realized he and I knelt, shoulder to shoulder, before James.

“Oh, yeah.” James beamed down at us.

I pulled my mouth off to check on Gage, whose apprehension showed.

“I want you to,” James said, “so much.”

Gage raised his face to James. “I want to, because you want me to, but I still don’t think I can.”

“I need it. Right now. Really need it.”

When Gage did not move, I provided what he needed and left my husband wetly rigid before Gage’s rounded eyes.

“Please, Gage, do it. Do what Natalie did.”

In a whisper Gage said, “I can’t.”

Moving my lips soundlessly, I told him,
You can
. He shook his head no.

I licked the taste of ocean from James, circling my tongue extravagantly, licking my lips afterward for Gage, miming that it tasted good.

“Oh.” James breathed fast. “Gage, you do it. Please?”

Gage leaned nearer, looking at James’s long pink penis as if it might lash out suddenly.

“Come on, Gage, take it in your mouth. Suck it.”

He shook his head rapidly.

I wrapped my tongue around the mushroom head, savoring the drop of salty egg white at the end.

“Lick it, then, come on, please, a little lick?”

Gage averted his eyes and shook his head again.

“A kiss then, just a kiss. Your lips on me. Please, Gage. Please?”

With fresh blushes, Gage leaned close, hesitated a long moment, then gave the shaft a kiss as short as those James gives my friends’ cheeks.

My husband’s penis jerked upward. He mussed Gage’s hair with battered hands, the warmth of his affection pouring on us both.

“Excuse me a minute,” Gage said and got up awkwardly. “Bad timing, but I really need to pee.”

“I’ll keep James warmed up until you come back.” I took him in my mouth, dimly aware of the sounds of the bathroom door, Gage peeing, water running.

Gage returned with his clothes in his arms. He dropped them on the sofa and knelt immediately. “Where was I?” He gave James a little grin and kissed the shaft with closed lips, this time without hesitation.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah.” He kissed again.

“Can I help?” I said. I didn’t wait for an answer but took just the glans in my mouth, leaving room for Gage’s little kisses up and down the shaft while I worked the head with my tongue.

High above us, James said, “This is the best dream I’ve had in ages.”

That seemed to spur Gage on. He opened his lips a little, and the kisses he deposited became wetter until he tapped me on one shoulder, gesturing that he wanted to take that part of Jamie that I held.

I let him. He paused.

“Only if you want to,” James said.

Gage tilted his face toward James as if my husband were the sun, Gage a flower not yet in bloom. He let the tip of his tongue lick the head cautiously before retreating.

“Good. I hope to God you want to.”

At that point Gage opened his wet lips wider and took James into the rounded O of his mouth, sucking the plummy head with a soft, wet sound.

James wove his fingers through Gage’s disheveled hair, urging him forward but not forcing. Gage changed his angle, bobbing down to accept some of the shaft too. He smiled around James’s penis, clearly pleased with himself. He had maybe three inches of Jamie’s considerable length actually past his lips, wrapping much of the rest, which shone pink and wet from the tongue bath, with his fingers.

They were lost in it, ignoring me. Only fair; usually I had two orgasms for their singles. While I watched the men give and receive, thinking how beautiful they both were, James made a little grunting sound.

I knew what it meant. Did Gage? Jamie’s closed eyelids trembled, seizure-like. Within the next few seconds he would come.

When it happened, Gage opened his eyes wide and jerked away so quickly James’s throbbing organ left his lips with a
pop.

The first viscous spatter struck Gage’s neck, the others his chest and upper belly. A pearl of it ran down the scar. Gage looked at it with wonder, as if he’d never seen such a thing. His lower lip shone.

My husband dropped to his knees, dabbing the semen from Gage’s body with his hands. “I’m thrilled to be your first,” he said. “I really am.”

“Thanks for being so patient with me. I hope it was worth the wait.”

“It was. What’s that on your nose?”

Gage touched his nostril. Something white showed clearly, just a trace. It was powdery, definitely not cum or mucus. “Nothing.”

Chapter Nineteen

The angry lightning bolt between James’s eyebrows returned. “Coke or crystal?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gage said. He got up and sifted through the rumpled clothes he’d tossed on the sofa.

“In my house, either one could get you an ass whuppin’,” James said. “Just ask my brother David.”

“Yeah, right,” Gage said, pulling on his jeans. “Hey, Nat, did you hear? James is going to spank me.”

“My parents’ house,” James corrected.

“I didn’t think you’d beat my ass,” Gage said.

“I didn’t think you’d need to drug yourself to give me head. Am I that unappealing?”

“No, no, it’s me. You know that.”

“You can’t be doing coke or whatever it is and helping Rowan,” I said.

“Or yourself. We’re going to your hotel, right now, to get rid of the rest,” James said. “I don’t care if it’s the only way you can make yourself do me.”

“Come on, it’s not you. It’s me.”

“I don’t care if it’s the fucking pope. Find your shoes.”

“Fine.” Gage crammed his bare feet into his shoes and fished in his pocket for his keys as we all went out the front door.

“Don’t be stupid,” James said, neatly lifting the keys from Gage’s unsuspecting hand. “You think I’d let you drive?” He cuffed Gage’s head just the way I’d seen his father cuff David’s, sending Gage stumbling toward the truck. “Get in. You too, Natalie. Somebody’s got to ride herd on my temper.”

Gage shot me a questioning look. I nodded, small:
I’ll protect you. If I can.

“Shit, I almost forgot. Wait a second.” James trotted back inside.

“Is he as mad as I think?” Gage asked.

“Probably. He worries himself sick over David throwing his life down the toilet because of drugs, and I’m sure he’s hurt that you needed—what was it, cocaine?”

Gage nodded.

“Needed cocaine before you’d touch your mouth to him.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to give him what he wanted. Is that so awful?”

“What does that say about the way you feel about him, that you have to anesthetize yourself first?”

Gage knotted his narrow lower jaw and glared at the windshield, not even looking in James’s direction when he returned to toss a paper grocery bag, its top edge rolled over several times, behind the seat.

The truck didn’t want to start. “Come on, you bitch-whore,” James muttered, and it caught. Nobody said another word until we reached the hotel. “Where should I park?” James asked.

Gage just pointed. We trailed him to his room. It was nothing special, just a basic hotel room with two double beds.

James set out the DO NOT DISTURB sign, then closed the door softly and swung the bolt home. “Where do you keep it?”

“Suitcase.” Gage gestured toward the open area with a rod and hangers, a black suitcase and several pairs of shoes on the floor below. James set the empty suitcase on the luggage rack and threw it open, reaching inside the pockets and compartments until he found a plastic bag filled with other tiny plastic bags of white powder. “How much is this worth?”

“Couple thousand.”

“Natalie, would you take Gage’s investment in his future and flush it?”

“Sure.” I wished there was a store where we could get him a refund.

“Thank you. Gage and I need to have a talk.”

The little packets seemed densely compact, but most floated and didn’t take well to flushing. It took several minutes of continuous flushes before they’d all gone. I was glad it wasn’t my plumbing and water bill.

I stopped in the bathroom doorway. Between the two beds, James held the front of Gage’s shirt in a wadded bunch over his breastbone, revealing most of Gage’s lean belly and that scar. The residue of James’s semen caught the light.

His face only inches from Gage’s, James spoke intensely, so low I couldn’t make it out, then glared at Gage until he unfastened the button on his Levi’s, lowered the zipper, and pushed them down.

Exactly what he’d done earlier tonight, but then his eyes hadn’t been defiantly locked to James’s, returning the glower with equal fierceness. The sweet, soft man-boy I’d adored just after his orgasm was gone, replaced by the kind of fool who didn’t back down from a bar fight.

I didn’t know either of these men, or like them. This wasn’t about cocaine or sex. This was all about power and testosterone. No wonder I felt invisible.

James released the T-shirt, leaving a starburst of wrinkles in the soft cloth.

I hadn’t seen Gage unaroused before. His penis was darker brown and the piercings, exciting so short a time ago, looked vulgar and lumpy under his foreskin.

James set the paper grocery bag on the nearest bed. “Open it,” James said to Gage.

Gage unrolled the top. “Uh-uh. No way you’re going to use that on me.”

What was in it? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know and feared I did.

James sat next to the bag. “Across my lap.”

“You’re just trying to scare me. You’re not really going to paddle me.”

He’d better not. Harsh discipline during James’s teens was one of the barriers to getting along with his father as an adult. James had stolen the paddle specifically so his father wouldn’t treat David as he had James. It was a faded orange, its oak scraped and nicked, ordinarily buried in the back of James’s closet.

“Across my lap
now
.” He hefted the paddle in one hand.

“You going to make me?”

“You think I can’t?”

I knew he could. And feared he would. James was strong and headstrong both.

“Stop it, both of you,” I said.

“Natalie,” they said in unison. James’s tone told me to stay out of it, and Gage’s asked me to intercede.

Before I could act toward either outcome, Gage astonished me, and I think James as well, awkwardly laying himself over James’s knees. “If this is what you need to do, then do it.”

“You don’t think I will, though.”

“I don’t know. I’m scared you will. I’m also scared you won’t, but that you’ll stay mad. I don’t want either one. So if you need to beat my ass to forgive me, then do it.”

There was no sound in the hotel room but their heavy breathing. Then James said, “Jesus, Gage. Jesus. Get up.”

The man who stood wasn’t a Gage I’d seen before. He was pathetically eager to please, a dog grateful for a kick if it meant you’d pet him afterward.

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