Everything Changes
Allan was wrecked. His whole body still trembled, his breath uneven as he struggled to process how I’d just made him cum… fully dressed. The air between us was thick, charged with a humming tension that couldn’t be ignored. Emily sat frozen, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, processing, in disbelief of what she’d just seen. And me? I just stood there, watching Allan flounder.
He stumbled over his words, his voice a shaky mix of frustration and desperation. “This isn’t right… it’s not fair,” he mumbled, avoiding my gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.
I crossed my arms over my bare chest, letting the silence stretch, watching him squirm. With deliberate slowness, I stepped closer.
"Are you trying to say it’s my fault you’re into me?" My tone dripped with amusement.
Without waiting for a response, I turned and dropped onto the sofa beside Emily, draping an arm casually around her shoulders, pulling her against my bare torso. “What about you?” My smirk deepened as I glanced at her. “You having a good time?”
Emily’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she glanced at Allan, her hesitation barely masking her excitement. “Y-yeah,” she stammered, her voice soft but eager. “I am.”
I shot a quick glance at Allan, his expression faltering, caught between desperation and helplessness. Emily’s excitement was obvious. She stole many furtive glances at Allan, like she knew she shouldn’t be this fascinated, but her eyes always came back to me.
Turning to her, I let my free hand drift down to guide hers, gently placing it on my quad—the one that had just made Allan jizz in his pants. “Feel that.” My voice low and smooth, my gaze steady on hers. Her breath hitched as her fingers brushed against the dense muscle, hesitating for only a moment before pressing more firmly. Once she started, I let my hand fall away, leaving her to explore on her own. Her fingers traced the definition of my quad, her cheeks flushing deeper with every pass.
Allan’s entire body stiffened. His breath became shallow. The scene before him was something he wanted to reject, yet he couldn’t look away. His girlfriend was stroking my leg. And I knew he felt me, the intensity of my energy wrapping around him in ways he probably didn’t even understand yet.
His helplessness wasn’t just about her. It was about this. About the hold I had on him, about the way his body responded before his mind could catch up. I could see it in the way he studied the scene, the way his breath stuttered. My smirk widened as realization flickered behind his eyes.
I playfully tensed my leg, the muscles tightening under Emily’s delicate fingers as she traced the teardrop shape that formed above my knee. She gasped, her fingertips lingering. utterly captivated.
“Emily,” Allan croaked, his tone wavering between shock and something more raw.
I cast a triumphant glance at him as she didn’t seem to hear him—too caught up in me. Letting the silence stretch, I leaned in closer, my hand pressing lightly against her back, pulling her in just a little more.
Her breath caught, her fingers tightening instinctively on my quad.
I smirked, knowing Allan was hanging on every word.
"Tell me, Emily…" I let the words linger, watching Allan stiffen. "How was it for you?" My fingers traced slow circles against her spine. "Watching me wreck me wreck your boyfriend like that?" My smirk deepened, voice thick with amusement. "Guess we all know what really gets him off."
Emily looked up at me, her breath shaky, her hand still resting on my leg. “I’ve never seen… I’ve never felt…” She glanced down briefly, swallowed hard. “I d-don’t know what to think.. about Allan.”
I turned my head slightly, locking eyes with Allan—his eyes wide, his face burning. I let my grin widen, slow and victorious. Emily was coming around, willing to acknowledge the emerging dynamic between Allan and me.
And fuck, I felt powerful.
My hand brushed over her shoulder, trailing lightly down her arm. My smirk deepened as I flicked my gaze back to Emily. “I’ve got an idea… to take this to the next level.”
I stood, extending a hand to each of them, coaxing them up. With a smooth motion, I wrapped an arm around both of them, pulling them into me
“What do you say we try something new? Something fun. A little… group fun, just the three of us,” I said, my tone deliberate and teasing as I glanced down at both of them.
Emily’s eyes widened, and a nervous laugh escaped her lips as she glanced toward Allan, her gaze lingering just long enough to silently signal her desire. Allan’s face turned a deeper shade of red, his eyes flickering between Emily and me, holding for just a moment longer than before.
“Allan,” Emily said, her voice softer now, but coaxing. She reached for his hand, squeezing just enough to ground him—or maybe to anchor herself. “I want this.” Her breath was unsteady, her gaze locked onto his. There was no mistaking the heat in her eyes. “Let’s do it.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t…” His voice faltered, and he shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “I mean, this is…” He trailed off again.
I leaned toward him, softening my tone. “It’s not a big deal, dude,” I said, locking eyes with Allan. Slowly, I reached out, my thumb brushing along the ridge of his collarbone. A not-so-subtle reminder of my effortless ability to overwhelm his senses. “Are you really going to deny yourself?” My voice dipped lower, the challenge unmistakable. “Or Emily?”
Allan’s lips parted, as he searched for the words he knew he had to say. Then, I saw the flicker of resignation in his eyes. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “Okay,” he said, barely audible.
My smirk widened. “Sweet!”
I offered my hand to Emily. As we walked to Allan’s bedroom, her grip tightened. Her touch felt warmer now, more deliberate. Her shallow, quick breaths weren’t just nerves—they were anticipation.
Behind us, I heard Allan shift. His movements were stiff, his footsteps hesitant, but he followed—like a man walking toward something he couldn’t quite understand but couldn’t resist.
As we stepped into Allan’s room, Emily’s breath quickened, her wide eyes flicking between me and Allan. Her curiosity was unmistakable, barely restrained by the last traces of uncertainty. Allan, meanwhile, hovered near the edge of the bed—his posture stiff, his jaw locked tight. The contrast between them was striking—her intrigue deepening, his composure unraveling.
I moved slowly toward Emily, my smirk deepening as her gaze locked onto me. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted slightly, her breath quickening. She knew where this was heading—she wanted it.
"You’ve been thinking about this. Wondering what it would be like to be with me." My voice was low, smooth, edged with quiet authority. I let the silence hang, watching her face, the way her breathing hitched. Then, I leaned in just enough for her to feel my presence.
She didn’t hesitate. Her fingers trembled as they reached for me, her restraint crumbling. I caught her hand, guiding it first to my bare chest, letting her feel the solid muscle beneath her palm. A sharp inhale. Her fingers splayed instinctively, as if trying to take in the sheer expanse of me. Slowly, they traced lower, following the ridges of my abs, her awe evident in the deepening flush of her cheeks.
Her gaze dropped lower still, catching on the obvious bulge straining against my shorts. I guided her hand down, pressing it gently against the hardness. Her lips parted with a soft gasp, her fingers curling slightly, exploring, needing to feel the weight of me in her palm.
"That’s it," I murmured, leaning closer, my breath brushing her ear. "Feels good, doesn’t it?"
She swallowed hard, her breath shuddering as she nodded—small, instinctive. Her fingers flexed, testing, pressing more firmly, and a quiet whimper slipped from her lips. The sound was soft, but it lit something in her eyes. She was coming to terms with just how much she wanted this.
I slowly peeled off my shorts, letting them drop to the floor, freeing my arousal. I moved slowly, deliberately, letting them both take in the full presence of me. Emily’s eyes followed every motion, her lips parted in raw fascination.
I reached for her hips, pulling her toward me. She came willingly, the heat between us undeniable. Tilting her chin, I let my lips brush softly against her neck, my fingers tracing her curves. She shuddered and moaned, a soft, breathless sound that cut through the silence.
Behind her, Allan stood fixed, like he was trying to control something that had already slipped past his grasp. Tension coiled through his rigid frame, but his eyes betrayed him. Wide. Fixed on me. On us. His lips parted slightly, his throat working as if he wanted to speak, to protest, but the words wouldn't come.
I let the moment stretch, let him feel it. Then, over Emily’s shoulder, I met his eyes.
And smirked.
Not just a challenge—a statement.
I knew exactly what I was doing.
To her.
To him.
Allan’s PoV
I shuddered under Noah's piercing gaze as he took a small step back from Emily. He stood tall, his sculpted muscle flexing with every shift, his impressive arousal standing proud. Every move exuded unhurried confidence as he reached for her.
With deft hands, he slipped her shirt over her head. His fingers skimmed her waist, unbuttoning her pants, slowly sliding them down her legs. Emily barely moved, her breath shallow—caught in a trance.
Once she stood in little more than lace and bare skin, he pulled her against him, his powerful arms wrapping around her, knowing the effect it would have. He moved like someone who never doubted the pull he had over others.
Emily’s breath hitched audibly as Noah’s erection ground against her stomach, the unmistakable friction wringing a breathless moan from her lips, shattering the silence. Her lustful cry tore into me like a lightning bolt, my entire body tightening at the raw sensuality of it. She wanted this so badly.
Noah met my gaze over her shoulder as he reached for her bra, his fingers flicking the clasp open with effortless precision. The lace slid away, baring her completely, but his focus never wavered. His eyes stayed locked on mine. He was telling me this wasn’t just about her.
His hands drifted lower, tracing her curves down to her waist. Then, he hooked his fingers beneath the final garment between them and peeled it away like he had all the time in the world. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. I should have looked away. Should have stepped back. But I couldn’t. I was caught in this as much as she was.
Then, in one seamless motion, Noah gripped Emily’s hips, lifted her effortlessly, and pressed her firmly against the wall. As her legs wrapped around him, he held her in place with ease, his strength absolute. And that’s when he looked at me again.
His gaze pinned me in place as he slowly, deliberately, lowered her onto his cock.
Emily gasped, her legs tensing around his waist as he filled her—inch by inch, stretching her completely. A strangled moan tore from her lips, her head falling back against the wall as her body trembled from the overwhelming sensation.
A sharp heat curled in my stomach, twisting tighter with every inch of movement. I clenched my fists, my breath locking in my chest.
Noah pulled back, just enough to make her feel the emptiness. Then, with a slow, measured roll of his hips, he filled her again—deeper this time, pushing past every last bit of resistance. Over and over, he fucked her, leaving her breathless, desperate, and completely his. His thrusts were precise and devastating, his power surging through every movement. Emily clung to him, her body arching, helpless whimpers slipping past her lips as she unraveled.
Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, nails scraping against his skin as if desperately trying to ground herself. But Noah wasn’t giving her that chance. He was making sure she shattered.
With her neck bared to him, his mouth trailed down her throat, his teeth grazing just enough to make her shudder intensely. Her gasps turned to frantic moans, each sharper than the last as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
Noah’s stamina was inhuman, making him an unstoppable force of raw sexual prowess. Every movement was calculated to tease, to push, to overwhelm. He was driving Emily beyond anything she had ever experienced. The rippling muscles of his back and legs gleamed under the light, each relentless thrust a testament to his endurance. He wasn’t just taking her, he was consuming her.
Emily’s first climax hit like a tidal wave. Her body arched, a sharp cry tearing from her lips as her legs tightened around his waist. Noah didn’t stop. He drove her through it, his thrusts unrelenting as she shuddered in his arms. Her hands roamed feverishly over his body, fingers pressing into the curves of his shoulders. Her voice broke into incoherent pleas as another wave overtook her, her cries climbing even higher.
Noah’s pace remained steady, powerful—controlled. He owned every second of this, every reaction he drew from her, every sound that filled the air. And then, just as another ragged moan escaped her lips, his eyes lifted.
Right to me.
A smirk curled at the edge of his lips, subtle but unmistakable. His gaze dragged over me, slow, knowing, as if he could see—could feel—the way my body had betrayed me. The heat under my skin. The tightness in my breath. And the growing strain in my pants.
The fabric was stretched tight, my arousal impossible to hide, no matter how desperately I willed it away. Noah’s smirk deepened, his head tilting just slightly, amusement flickering in those dark eyes. He wasn’t surprised. And that realization—the certainty that he had known this would happen long before I had—made something inside me twist even tighter.
I exhaled sharply, dropping my hands to my sides in resignation. There was no way to deny what was happening.
As I stared, Noah shot me a wink, letting me know just how much he approved.
The room was filled with the sounds of them—her desperate cries, his deep, measured grunts, the slick rhythm of their bodies moving together. It was too much. Too raw. Too real. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Noah shifted slightly, adjusting her in his muscular arms, his hands exploring her trembling body as he began again. Her cries became muffled sobs, her body writhing as he pushed her to yet another peak. The sight of her completely undone by him was mesmerizing.
Noah’s deep grunts grew louder, his pace quickening as Emily screamed his name, her body locking up one final time. The sheer force of her release sent her into uncontrollable convulsions, her cries raw and primal.
At the same time, Noah let out a guttural growl, his head tipping back as he drove deep one final time, his entire body tensing, rigid, unshaken. A sharp inhale, his fingers tightening against her hips, his muscles locking like steel cords, his body drawn tight as pleasure ripped through him, pulsing, consuming. Then, slowly, deliberately, he exhaled.
Even as the last tremors rolled through him, even as his body pulsed inside her, he leaned into her, ensuring she felt every last moment of it.
Emily was writhing in helpless surrender. Her voice shattered into frantic cries, each one sharper, more desperate, as the waves overtook her, as he wrung every last reaction from her. As if showcasing an effortless mastery of her pleasure, drawing out her ecstasy, like she had never been touched properly before.
I stood there, breathless, heat crawling under my skin, the truth settling like a weight in my chest. I could never do that for her. I had never heard her like that.
I’d thought Emily was happy with what we had. I’d thought our sex life was good, that I gave her what she needed. She never complained. She never asked for more. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe she never knew there was more. Not until now. And now that she’s felt it—really felt it—how does this go back to normal? Can it?
I didn’t know what to think, the weight of everything crashing down on me. Shame, awe, jealousy—it all mingled in a chaotic swirl that I couldn’t untangle. I wanted to believe this was just the heat of the moment, that once Noah left, things would settle. But what if they didn’t? What if this changed everything? And the worst part? I wasn’t sure I wanted to untangle it.
My gaze stayed locked on Noah as he straightened, his chest heaving, his body glistening from the exertion of his sexual marathon. Without hesitation, he adjusted Emily in his grip, lifting her effortlessly, her limp body molding against him as he carried her to the bed. He placed her down with a satisfied smirk, like setting aside something he’d thoroughly enjoyed but was finished with.
Then, he turned his attention to me.
The shift in his focus sent a jolt through my chest, my breath catching as he moved toward me, slow and deliberate. His cock swung heavily with the motion, slapping against the dense sweep of his quads, still thick and swollen from everything he had just done. His every step exuded unhurried confidence, his muscles flexing with a natural, arrogant grace, like a man who knew exactly the effect he had on the room. He smirked when our eyes met, sharp and knowing, like he could see straight through me.
“Looks like you enjoyed that.” His gaze flicked downward, nodding toward my tented pants. “And still are.” His tone was laced with triumph.
I couldn’t look away, couldn’t even attempt denial. This was, and continued to be Noah's moment.
His presence filled the space, heavy and overwhelming, pressing down on me like gravity itself. Every movement, every glance, every word had a weight I couldn’t ignore.
And I hated how much I craved it. Hated the way my body responded to Noah, before my head could even try to reason with me. Hated how I got so aroused in his presence, the way my breath became fast whenever his attention settled on me. I wanted to push it down, bury it, pretend it wasn’t there.
But it was. And Noah knew it.
He'd seen it in me before I even had a clue that I might be drawn to someone like Noah.
Noah’s PoV
As I stepped toward Allan, I ran a hand through my damp hair, feeling the lingering heat roll off my body. I let the moment stretch, absorbing it. Smirking, I slowly closed the space between us. I wanted him to feel this. Each step I took made his shoulders tense just a little more, his breath a little more uneven.
I tilted my head, my eyes never leaving his. I already knew exactly what was going through his mind.
"Don’t overthink this, Allan," I murmured, my voice steady, calm but threaded with challenge. "This isn’t personal. This is just how things work between us."
I clapped a hand down on his shoulder. His body locked up beneath my grip, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t move at all. He just stood there, caught in the weight of the moment.
My smirk deepened.
"Tell me something…"
I let my gaze drag over him, observing the way his chest rose quickly, the way his fists clenched like he was struggling to hold himself together. I then let my eyes drop lower. His pants were still tented, his body betraying him in the most obvious way possible. I raised an eyebrow.
“Look at you, Allan.” I let my eyes drag over him, slow and knowing. "You’re standing there, short of breath, leaking into your briefs… what's got you so boned up?” I winked at him.
“Was it watching your girlfriend come completely undone on my cock?” I let that hang for a beat, my smirk deepening. “Or was it something else?” I tilted my head, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard.
“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you couldn’t stop watching me. And now you’re standing there—short of breath, hard as a rock—wondering why this is happening to you.” Without breaking eye contact, I reached down, grasping my still slick semi and giving a slow, taunting stroke. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides, his breath coming too fast, too shallow. I let my smirk widen.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I tilted my head, letting the silence stretch.
I looked down at Allan, his breath coming unevenly as he tried to process what I had just said. His shoulders were rigid, his entire body locked in place—like standing perfectly still might somehow protect him.
I smirked. "You seem a little overdressed. Let’s make you more comfortable." My voice was soft, teasing, as my fingers found the hem of his shirt. He stiffened—but didn’t try to stop me. I took my time, dragging the fabric over his head, feeling the hesitation in his movements as he lifted his arms. He was letting this happen.
"Much better." I let my fingers drift down his arm, slow, deliberate, my touch lingering just long enough. A shudder rolled through him, involuntary, undeniable.
"You’re starting to feel this…" I said, my voice soft, almost appreciative, as my hand settled firmly on his shoulder. His breath hitched, sharp and telling, as my fingers trailed up, brushing the side of his neck, my thumb stroking the tense line of his throat. His pulse pounded beneath my touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He was rattled—caught between what he wanted and what he was terrified to admit.
"Shall we show Emily what we’ve been working on?" My grin widened. His stomach clenched—I could see it, feel it. He wasn’t ready to reveal this part himself to her. Not fully. But he wasn’t stopping it, either. Every silent breath was another offramp he wasn’t taking.
His eyes darted to Emily, anxiety flickering across his face. I followed his gaze. She was watching, her flushed cheeks and parted lips telling me everything I needed to know. She was fascinated.
I turned back to Allan, letting my smirk deepen. He was unraveling.
"Lose the pants." My voice was casual, like I was asking him to hand me a drink.
He froze, caught between instinct and hesitation. His body already knew the answer. His mind? Was scrambling to catch up. I tilted my head, my eyes steady on his.
Allan’s breath wavered. Then, with slow, jerky movements, he reached for the waistband of his pants. His face burned as they pooled at his feet, his briefs still tented. He flicked another desperate glance at Emily—one last grasp at something familiar, some reassurance. But there was nothing there to save him.
Slowly, his gaze lifted back to me. He looked wrecked.
His hands twitched at his sides like he wanted to cover himself, but we both knew it was too late for that. The silence stretched.
Then I tilted my head, my smirk widening.
"So tell me, Allan," I said, my voice smooth, taunting. "What is it about me that makes you fall apart like this?"
His eyes widened. He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready for the way I was stripping away every excuse, every lie he’d told himself. I took a slow step closer, watching the way his chest rose.
"Is it the size difference?" I rolled my shoulders slightly, letting my chest expand just enough to loom over him. "That I make you feel small?"
I smirked, watching as he blinked rapidly, his breath stuttering like his body was trying to pull itself together.
"Or is it more than that?" My voice dropped lower, smoother. "That I can do whatever I want with you… and we both know you will let me?"
That hit deep. I saw it in the sharp rise of his chest, the way his breath broke into uneven bursts. He was barely holding himself together.
His silence was answer enough. But I wasn’t letting him off that easy.
I lifted my hand, my fingers tracing his jaw before my thumb ghosted over the edge of his lower lip.
"Tell me, Allan."
"What’s going through your head right now?"
His pulse hammered at his throat. I could see him spiralling, caught between what he wanted and what he thought he was supposed to want and facing the humiliation of being exposed in ways he wasn’t ready for.
I dragged my thumb lightly across his lip again.. and I watched him break.
His breath became short, uneven, like he was struggling just to keep himself upright. His shoulders shifted and he shuffled his feet.
I tilted my head slightly, watching him squirm.
“Breathe, dude.”
I let my gaze drag over his face, over the flush creeping down his neck, the way his pupils had swallowed up nearly every trace of color in his eyes.
He was locked in place. Trapped.
I smirked.
“You feel that, don’t you?”
His mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.
I held his gaze.
And then… his lashes fluttered, his eyes dropping to my mouth. When his gaze snapped back to mine, the last thread of denial had frayed completely. I let the silence stretch.
And that’s when it all spilled out.
"You just… you just come in here—" His voice cracked, breathless, like he could barely get the words out. "Full of attitude… like you own the fucking place, taunting me with your ridiculous muscles…" His breath hitched, his face burning hotter. "Fucking putting me in a headlock like I’m some goddamn kid."
His hands clenched into fists, like he was trying to hold onto something. Something real. But there was nothing left.
"Y-you get in my head without even trying." His throat bobbed, his breath stuttering. "I—I mean…" His breath hitched. "Y-you made me p-pop… just using your fucking leg!" His face burned red, shame twisting in his expression.
His voice wavered, like he was admitting something he didn’t even want to think about.
"And then you flirt with girlfriend until she forgets I’m even in the room."
His lips trembled.
"And if that wasn’t enough, you f-fucked her… right in front of me…" His chest heaved, like the weight of it was finally hitting him in full. "And I just… I just let you!!"
He sucked in a ragged breath, shaking, trying to pull air into his lungs, trying to make sense of any of it.
I smirked, letting the words settle between us. His gaze dropped, drawn to the way my chest tensed beneath his stare. Then, effortlessly, I pressed again.
"And how do you feel about that?"
His face twisted, but not in anger—something raw, something closer to desperation.
His eyes darted to the floor, then back to me. His hands trembled at his sides, clenching and releasing like he didn’t know what to do with them. I could see him hesitating, processing the battle he had already lost. Then, finally, in a voice that barely sounded like his own…
"I'm freaked out." He swallowed thickly, his eyes shining with something desperate. "I m-mean…" He exhaled sharply, his head shaking. Then, suddenly, his voice rose, intense, confused, cracking at the edges.
"L-look at me!" His hand jerked downward, motioning toward his tented briefs.
His eyes burned into mine, his chest heaving. "I should be furious with you!"
I smirked. "Should you?"
His breath stilled. I smirked at him as I let my voice drop.
"Then, maybe it’s time for me to leave.”
His eyes widened. His entire body snapped to attention.
"NO!"
The word ripped out of him before he could stop it.
Instant. Absolute. Desperate.
I let the smirk stretch wider, dragging my thumb across his chin one last time.
"That's what I thought."
I met his anxious gaze, letting him hear his own words echo in his head. He was shaking, his breath shallow, his fists still clenched at his sides like he was bracing against something that had already overtaken him. But there was no stopping it now.
And fuck, that did something to me.
Watching him crumble like this—vulnerable, exposed, every shattering confession tearing through him—had me throbbing again, my cock heavy, aching, demanding more.
I tilted my head slightly, my thumb dragging down to his chin.
"You’re making me horny, Allan," I murmured, letting my breath brush against his skin.
His lips parted, but no words came.
I smirked, watching him, his entire body drawn so tight he looked like he might snap.
"Do you want to help me out?"
He looked into my eyes. He didn’t even try to pull away. If anything, he leaned into my touch, My words still hung in the air, taunting him, daring him to deny what we both knew was true. His lips trembled, his breath shallow and uneven as he struggled to find a response. But there was no response. Nothing he could say that wouldn’t expose him further.
My hand still held his chin, keeping him in place, forcing him to stay in this moment. With his face tilted upward, his gaze wandered. I saw the exact moment he lost himself. His eyes dragged downward, tracing the lines of my chest and shoulders, lingering, like he was trying to take in every inch of me. His breath caught. His lips parted slightly.
And then he moved.
Slowly. Inevitably. His knees hit the floor.
His breathing was uneven, shallow, like every movement was costing him another piece of himself he couldn’t hold onto anymore.
I exhaled slowly, letting the moment settle, letting him feel it.
"Knew you’d get there." My voice low, letting the weight of the moment settle between us.
On his knees, Allan’s face inches from my torso and inches from something even harder to ignore. His breath stuttered, his hands hovered nervously before settling on my quad. When he finally met my eyes, they were searching—anxious, but drawn to something he was no longer resisting.
He wasn’t just giving in. He was choosing this.
The tension in the room was electric, thick with anticipation as I guided him closer, my hand firm against the back of his head. I could feel the tremor beneath his skin, the way his body was already surrendering. My cock rested heavily against his cheek, branding him with its presence. He leaned in, drawn in by what he had been denying all afternoon and resisting for the last ten days since we were last together, like this.
"Open up."
My voice came low, steady. Just one last chance for him to stop this. One last chance to lie to himself.
But we both knew he wouldn’t.
Allan’s lips parted hesitantly, his breath uneven, shaky. His gaze flickered up to meet mine.
I slid my fingers into his hair, tangling deep as I moved him closer, letting him feel the weight of my presence, the inevitability of what was happening. He hovered there, close enough that the warmth of his breath sent a shiver up my spine. I smirked, feeling the tension coil in him, waiting for the moment it would snap. And then, finally, it did.
His tongue flicked out, a tentative, featherlight stroke against my head, already slick with pre. A single lap, but it was enough. A deep, guttural groan tore from my chest, vibrating through the air between us.
Emily’s breath hitched from across the room. I barely glanced at her, but I felt her watching—wide-eyed, frozen in place, her hand gripping the blanket like she needed to hold onto something real. She looked like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. The raw heat in her gaze, the way her thighs pressed together, confirmed what I already knew.
But she wasn’t my focus. Allan was.
His earlier resistance melted away as he moved with more confidence, his tongue dragging hungrily along my length, his lips sealing tighter with every inch. His breath came in short, shaky bursts, the last remnants of hesitation unraveling before me.
I tilted my head back, my abs flexing as I exhaled slow and deep, reveling in the moment. The heat, the pressure, the slick, eager way his lips stretched around me—it sent a ripple of pleasure through my core. I looked down, locking eyes with him. His cheeks were flushed, his breath trembling, his hands gripping my thighs.
Then I tightened my grip in his hair and lunged again, probing deeper.
Allan gagged, his whole body jolting as I pushed into his throat. His muffled gasp made my balls churn. I held him there, pleasuring myself in his spasming throat. The way his muscles clenched, the desperate, helpless way his body reacted—it only made me want more.
His fingers pressed against my muscular legs, clutching, bracing himself against my powerful thrusts. His eyes watered, his lashes fluttering as his throat tightened around me. He looked wrecked.
"You’re a natural," I growled, my voice rough, dripping with arousal. I pulled back just enough to let him suck in a shaky breath, feeling the desperation in the way his lips clung to me.
I bucked again. Allan shuddered, his muscles locking tight, and I felt it—each tremor rolling through him, feeding the fire building low in my core. The slick pull of his mouth, the heat of his breath, the way his body yielded with every motion only stoked my hunger. The tension coiled tighter, the pleasure surging through me, but I wasn’t ready to be finished.
I pulled back from Allan’s mouth, feeling the warmth of his lips lingering around me even as I slowly withdrew. I wanted to feel every inch slipping away, every nerve still alive with the heat of his submission. His lips stayed parted, breath shallow, uneven. His tongue flicked out, like he needed me. I wasn’t about to disappoint.
Shifting forward, I settled over him, pressing my shaft against his face. He didn’t flinch. He knelt there, waiting. His fingers twitched against my thighs. I smirked, wondering if he knew what was coming.
I tensed my abs, rolled my hips, letting weight rest against him, dragging my balls over his lips. His breath hitched, hot humid, shaky. His mouth instinctively opened. I exhaled slowly, savoring the moment, my pre oozing onto his cheek. His chest rose sharply beneath me, his breath turning shallow, overtaken by the moment.
My fingers curled around the back of his head, holding him there. I leaned down, my voice dropping lower.
"Yeah," I exhaled, my voice roughened by pleasure. "Just like that."
I kept my grip tangled in his hair, my cock still resting against his flushed cheek. His breath was warm against my skin, uneven, shaky and but hungry. He wanted this.
I straightened my legs and repositioned myself, pulled Allan back down onto my throbbing manhood, slow and deliberate, guiding him until his lips stretched around me again, until his nose was planted in my well manicured pubes.
Each flick of his tongue, each slow drag of his lips sent jolts of heat through me, sharp and electric. My breath thickened, my abs tightening as he settled into the rhythm. Not just following—embracing it.
My fingers curled slightly in his hair, not to force—just to feel. To anchor myself in the raw heat of the moment.
And fuck, Allan felt good.
I exhaled sharply, my hips rolling forward, a slow, measured stab into his throat. He gagged but didn’t pull back—he held on, his fingers pressing firmer against my thighs. His breath hitched as he took me deeper, his lips parting wider, his tongue stroking with purpose.
"You’re doing awesome, Allan!”
Something changed. This time, my praise ignited something in him. Allan’s hands tightened against my quads, his mouth working me deeper, slicker, his hunger building with each passing second.
His energy made me groan, low in my throat, my body tightening. The pressure, the warmth, the sight of him, lips stretched, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, made my blood run hot, made my balls tighten. I let him keep going. Let myself drown in it. Let my pleasure coil tighter, higher.
Then, just as the wave was about to crest, I pulled back, fisting the base of my cock, holding myself right at the edge.
Allan barely had time to react before the first thick stream of cum shot across his face, streaking hot over the bridge of his nose. His breath stuttered, his mouth still parted, caught between a gasp and a swallow. The second and third ropes followed, painting his face, tracing down his cheeks and neck. His chest rose and fell in shallow, unsteady breaths, his fingers twitching against my thighs.
Like a marksman, I adjusted my aim, the last thick ropes landing right onto his waiting tongue.
His breath was uneven, his lips still parted, his pupils wide and dark. The room was silent, the heat between us impossible to ignore.
I reached down, my fingers catching on his chin, tilting his face up. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, the movement drawing my eye, making my cock twitch with satisfaction. And fuck, he looked good like this. Flushed, streaked, wrecked. Raw.
I smirked, my thumb running along his cheekbone, smearing a drop of cum against his skin.
"We gotta do that again!" I murmured, voice thick with smug indulgence.
I exhaled slowly, letting the weight of what had just happened sink in. The raw energy crackled between us. But eventually, even the best highs have to come down.
I pulled on my shorts, deciding to go commando and savouring how the room still buzzed with everything I’d just shared with them. This had been different, unexpected in the best way. Watching Emily unravel, seeing Allan fight and lose a battle he never stood a chance of winning? Yeah, that was hot. I smirked to myself as I pulled my shirt over my head, a feeling of triumph settling deep in my bones.
It was my first time taking a couple, and I hadn’t just pulled it off, I’d rocked their world. I was leaving them both laced with my DNA, changed in ways they probably hadn’t yet considered. I rolled my shoulders, stretching slightly, letting the feeling settle. Not bad for a first run.
Emily was still sprawled across the bed, breathless, dazed, skin flushed with the aftershocks. Allan, meanwhile, had moved—now sitting stiffly in his desk chair, avoiding eye-contact with Emily, his arms folded tight. He was processing.
As I dressed, Allan’s eyes stayed locked on me, his expression shifting—something between dazed and disappointed. Like he wasn’t ready for this to be over. I took my time, letting the silence stretch, feeling his gaze track my every move. Once my shirt was on, I smirked, scooped up my briefs from the floor, and casually tossed them into his lap.
"Something to remember me by."
His jaw tightened, his wide eyes flicking from the fabric to me. His breath hitched, but whatever protest was forming died before it ever reached his lips.
I chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder before turning toward the door.
“I’m heading out.” My voice was easy, unbothered. “Figure you two might need a little time to… talk things through.”
As I reached the door, I glanced back at Allan, smirking. “See you around.”
No words. Just silence.
I didn’t expect a response. Didn’t need one.
