Games We Play

By Mickey M.

© June 2003

"Lay down on the bed and stretch your arms up."

It's the only thing JC says to him; Chris doesn't say anything at all. Justin looks at them, one to the other, then locks gazes with Chris until he remembers no one wins a staring contest with Chris, and nods. The bed squeaks softly when he kneels on it; squeaks again when he shifts and settles back, nerves and anticipation coiling hot and squirming wildly inside his belly. JC stares at him until he raises his arms, stretching them out over his head. His shirt rides up, exposing just a small stretch of his belly, but even that little bit makes him feel horribly exposed, since Chris and C are both staring at him.

Watching him.

Chris kneels beside him, up by his head, and trails his fingers lightly up Justin's arms before he takes hold of his wrists and presses, holding them down. His breath is warm and moist and caramel-scented when he leans in to whisper, "Relax, dude. We're not going to hurt you." Justin swallows hard and nods. Tries to.

JC kneels beside Justin, pushes his shirt up, just a little...just the edge of it... and trails his fingers lightly over the exposed sliver of skin. Justin forgets how to breathe when JC teases one finger into his navel, sliding around lewdly in an unmistakable gesture. He laughs softly when Justin sucks a breath in, and his stomach ripples. Chris leans in and kisses him, licks at his mouth at the same time JC leans down and licks slowly, upward, ruffling the hair there, then back down, dipping his tongue into Justin's navel.

He writhes upward and groans into Chris' mouth when JC shifts so he's resting over Justin's thighs, anchoring him to the bed. Then he can't think about moving or not moving, because Chris' tongue is slick and sweet inside his mouth, teasing him, tasting him, and JC's mouth and fingers are driving him crazy with wanting, and his brain fuzzes out briefly.

"Does he taste good?" JC's voice jars him out of his haze, and Justin can't believe the sound he makes when Chris lifts his head, breaking the kiss. He wants to call him back, but the words freeze in his throat when hot, hot eyes rake down over him. Chris looks at JC and grins and JC licks his lips as if he's been kissing Justin, then laughs softly when Justin whimpers. "I thought he might." Chris echoes the laugh before leaning back in to kiss Justin again, licking slowly over his lips until Justin opens for him, wriggling a little against the hold Chris has on his hands. He can't move, and that by itself is a turn-on.

JC's edged his shirt up just a little more, and he's teasing now, ghosting kisses across Justin's belly, licking when he twitches, making it ripple. Justin wants to arch upward, but JC has a hold of his legs, won't let him move. And then...then, a gentle brush over his crotch, and god, he's so hard. Aches. But JC doesn't actually touch him, just...trails his hand really lightly upward. And licks him again. Tongues his navel, licking around the edge and pushing into the dip, like he's rimming him--and that thought makes Justin whimper again, though the sounds gets lost in Chris' mouth.

"C wants to fuck you, y'know," Chris whispers against his mouth, and Justin feels the shocks zing through him at that, shudders in response. He makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, moans louder when Chris pulls away. "Don'tcha, C?"

"Hmm?" JC looks up and Justin wants to cry; he wants JC's mouth on him -- lower would be good, oh, god, please -- and not up, making words. "What?"

"I told Justin you want to fuck him." Chris strokes one hand down Justin's throat, fingers squeezing briefly before continuing down. Chris pulls his shirt up further, baring more of his chest.

"Oh. Yeah." JC smiles, but it's not the happy, crinkly-eyed grin he's used to seeing. It's a hungry, predatory grin that makes his eyes dark, dilates his pupils. Justin swallows. "Definitely want to fuck you, J." And Justin strains upward, because JC's moved his hand again, brushing just...so...against the side of his erection. He can hardly feel the touch, through his sweats, but he imagines he can feel it, and oh, god. Pressure.

"Please," he gasps softly. "Please--"

"Poor Jup," Chris says, leaning across Justin to kiss JC hard, a wet, slick kiss that resounds around them. Justin stares, pushes his hips upward -- JC's not holding him down now -- and groans when JC's knuckles rub over his aching cock.

He arches upward again, a frantic fluttering in his chest telling him he has to feel JC's hand, has to get the friction. "I need—"

JC withdraws his hand and Justin has to bite his lip to keep from crying out. This was his idea; he agreed to play their game by their rules. They told him they like to tease. We'll make it good for you, but you might not like it on the way there, JC told him. Chris just stared, his eyes dark, so dark, hot, hungry. Justin remembers shivering at the look Chris gave him, at the light heat of JC's hand on his waist. He said yes before the words were completely out of JC's mouth.

"I know what you need," JC says softly and licks his lips. Justin wonders if he tastes Chris. Chris tasted good, kissing him. He mirrors JC's action, tastes a hint of caramel, the candy Chris was sucking on when this whole thing was first proposed. "We said it'd be good, remember? And to trust us?"

"I do," Justin begins. The rest of his words are swallowed when Chris kisses him again, turning so he can pin Justin more easily to the bed. He's never quite associated this sort of strength with Chris before. Not physical strength. But then, he's never really spent much time thinking about Chris in bed – until last week, when he walked in on Chris and JC making out. Which kind of led to this, since he has spent a lot of time thinking about JC in bed. "I just—please."

"Not used to waiting, are you?" JC trails a finger around and around Justin's navel and he shivers violently, manages to shake his head clumsily. "Chris wasn't, either," JC says softly. "But sometimes the best things are worth waiting for. And working up to." Slowly, so slowly, JC rubs his finger downward, easing over the erection tenting Justin's sweats up.

"But if you die from waiting," Justin mutters, trying not to squirm too much. Chris is licking his neck, teeth scraping gently, making heat slide deliciously through him. He's already embarrassed over the noises coming from him that he can't…quite…seem to control.

"No one's ever died from sexual tension, J." JC sounds like he's laughing, but Justin can't see and doesn't really care. He shivers when warmth gusts over hypersensitive skin; shivers again when JC licks upward, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Chris kisses him hard again, mouth working at Justin's until his lips feel raw and swollen when Chris pulls back. He strips Justin's t-shirt the rest of the way up, but leaves it tangled around his wrists, hampering movement. He whimpers and Chris smiles, a dark, hungry grin that bleeds heat into Justin's bloodstream.

"He wants it bad, C." Chris strokes his fingers over Justin's nipples, and Justin closes his eyes when they tighten into hard, achy points. He wriggles at each touch and pants softly, trying to absorb each sensation, to feel everything. The hands touching his nipples, chest, stomach; the fingers ghosting gently over his aching erection. He didn't wear anything but sweats and a t-shirt tonight, and now he's down to just the sweats, and it's still too much. Too big of a barrier between his skin and JC's touch, and god, he'd do anything to have those fingers wrapped around his cock—

"Anything, J?" JC's voice is wicked, pitched low and husky, flowing into his ears and down his nervous system, and Justin opens his eyes, realizes Chris has shifted and he has a clear view of JC reaching for the waistband of his sweats. "What about my mouth, baby?"

"Yes—god. Please, JC." He licks his lips and wiggles, shimmies his hips slowly. Enticingly, he hopes. JC rubs him through the sweats again then nods at Chris, nothing but that and a dark, heated look exchanged between them. Justin opens his mouth to ask, beg, plead, and groans instead when Chris bites down on one nipple, fingers worrying the other, pulling and pinching until it feels hot and swollen and Justin forgets there was something he wanted, something besides the hot, wet mouth moving back and forth across his chest, trailed by strong, knowing fingers.

He loses track of who's touching him where. Chris plays with his nipples until they're throbbing, aching points on his chest, until Justin's so sensitive he can feel each soft puff of breath, each light touch stroked over and around swollen flesh. In between bites and scratches and pinches, Chris kisses him, tongue stroking, licking, teeth scraping and biting. JC pulls his sweats down slowly, tonguing the insides of his thighs and laughing when Justin tries to spread his legs wider, body thrumming helplessly with arousal, with a hunger so intense he aches everywhere, his skin hot and tight, ready to split open around him. When strong hands cup his ass and spread him, nudge his legs open wider, Justin complies readily, eagerly, sobs into Chris' mouth when JC licks around the head of his cock. When wet heat slides down the length of his dick he cries out and thrusts upward awkwardly, watches the world fade around him, lost in a haze of pleasure colored red and black behind his eyelids.

He comes back to awareness when slick, wet, hungry sounds filter through to him. He opens his eyes to Chris and JC twined together above him, kissing. Not sweet, loving kisses; these are nasty, hot, needy kisses. Open-mouthed, and Justin sees tongues stroking, licking, sees teeth biting and pulling on lips. Chris' jeans are still fastened but for the top button, but he's lost his shirt, and his chest gleams pale in the dim light, dark hair trailing downward and disappearing into the waistband. JC's slender compared to him, skin lightly golden against Chris' pallor, and it's a nice contrast. He's shirtless, too, and his jeans are completely undone, cock rising out of a tangle of dark curls. Justin watches Chris slide his hand down JC's chest and into his open jeans, strokes his hard-on slowly.

JC leans back, neck arched, eyes closed, while Chris strokes him. It's a perfect position to see all of JC, and it makes Justin shiver. So beautiful, so sexy. Long and lean, muscles defined and standing out in relief, shivering as pleasure streaks through him, cock jutting up, thick and long, sliding back and forth through the tunnel of Chris' hand. Chris sees him watching and leans in to whisper something to JC, something Justin can't hear, but that makes JC turn to look at him, flames burning behind bright blue-gray eyes.

Justin whimpers before he can stop himself, moves his arms before aborting the movement. He feels scorched from that look, from the heat coming off Chris and JC both. He's already mostly hard again, wonders if he really lost his erection, even when he came. He licks his lips, looks from JC's face to his crotch, watches Chris stroke him, smooth, slow strokes. Teasing strokes.

"I could fuck you," JC is saying softly, when Justin realizes he's actually talking to him. "I could fuck you…or I could fuck Chris while you watch." He's leaned forward, has the fingers of one hand twined through Chris' hair, and Justin holds his breath, wondering what Chris would look like, mouth open around JC's cock. He thinks the image might be too much for his brain, and whimpers. JC smiles that smile again, the one that says, I'm going to devour you.

Justin kinda hopes that's what he's really going to do.

"Spread your legs wider, J." JC pulls Chris to him, fingers still clenched tight in his hair, and kisses him lewdly, tongue slicking over his lips, darting in and out of Chris' mouth. Justin hears someone – him? Chris? – whimper, and shifts so he's spread open, body trembling. He closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see, but the sounds are just as erotic, more so, actually, without the visual. He looks again, sees JC pull away and slide off the bed, watches him skim his jeans down quickly. Chris follows, and there's more kissing, more touches, hands and mouths skating across pale, sweatslicked bodies. Then Chris kneels beside Justin again and leans in to kiss him, mouth gentle at first, then rougher, harder, hot against his.

Devouring.

Justin moans into the kiss, struggles against the t-shirt still tangled around his arms, jerks nervously when JC nuzzles at his thighs, his balls, licks and nips at tender skin.

"Shh, J. He'll make you feel so good," Chris whispers the kisses into his mouth, licks them into the skin of his throat, bites them gently into his neck. Justin thinks 'good' is permanently tattooed there now, the skin so hot and flushed and swollen-feeling.

"Both of you," he whispers back, jerking again when JC spread his ass. He's so open now, exposed, and god he's a slut, because he likes it. Loves it. Loves the hands on him, the mouths licking and sucking, loves the teasing they're doing that makes his blood feel molten hot, liquid fire flowing in his veins.

JC licks him, slowly, tongue sliding from his balls back, and Justin shudders and twists, groaning when Chris pins him down again. His chest is tight now, breath catching when JC licks him, slowly, almost delicately at first, then faster, stroking wetly over the tight muscle. It's too much, but not enough, long, slick strokes over and around, his body loosening with each touch. He wonders distantly if JC can fuck as well as he rims, groans when his body relaxes and JC licks up inside him, small, darting, stabbing motions, then slow and smooth, slick and hot, and then Chris is kissing his mouth while JC licks his ass, and oh, god, his head is swirling with color and sensation, pleasure thrumming hotly all through him.

Cool wet replaces hot and slick, and Justin growls at the fingers teasing him, stroking up inside, opening him further. "Fuck me, god, please—" and he arches, back bowing, when JC strokes right there, makes him see stars as pleasure turns his limbs heavy and boneless.

Chris licks from his nipples up to his mouth, kisses him deep and hungry when JC shifts him; swallows his groan when JC thrusts in, the burning stretch overwhelming him for the moment it takes his body to adjust. Then it's nothing but heat, pleasure flowing over him hot and thick as JC fucks him slowly, then faster, driving into Justin with a force that makes the bed bang against the wall. Justin clenches his fist in the fabric of his t-shirt and wriggles beneath JC, groans when the thrusts slow, stop, when they become quick, teasing movements. He's begging into Chris' mouth, words, sounds, shifting his hips shamelessly. JC strokes his dick once, rubs a thumb over the slick, sensitive head, then thrusts again, filling Justin in one long, smooth stroke.

He gasps for air when Chris pulls away, whimpers when he watches him reach for himself. He'd like to stroke Chris, touch hard, heated flesh, feel the sticky droplets he can see pearled up and slicked over the tip. But he's already figured out he's not going to be allowed to touch – this time. Justin hopes there's a next time; hopes he gets to touch, then.

"Watch me," Chris hisses, fingers stroking lightly, teasing himself. Justin swallows; it's hard to concentrate on anything with JC hot and hard inside him, melting him stroke by stroke, but he tries, turns his head to watch Chris jerk himself slowly, then faster, joining the rhythm JC's set. "Next time… want you to suck me…" It's weird, but so hot, watching someone else beat off, and Justin feels each slick glide of Chris' hand like it's on his dick, watches wetness smear, easing the friction a bit. He wonders how Chris tastes. Licks his lips and groans when JC shifts him again, pushing him up, fingers tight on his hips.

Then he can't watch Chris, all he can see is JC, eyes blazing hot, face scrunched up in concentration. Each stroke inside him makes his vision dance crazily, redwhiteblack dots swirling around, careening against each other. So much to feel, hot, tight, hard, fast, and the sounds of flesh-on-flesh, and the salthot smell of sex and sweat and come in the air, and JC's fingers bite into him, small pinches of sensation, and JC's hand is on his dick, pumping him hard and fast while he pants and rocks his hips upward to meet the crazy thrusts.

He comes first, groaning through the spasms, feels slick heat on his belly and chest. JC slams hard into him twice, then a third time, grunting when he comes. Justin feels the pulses, wishes he could feel wet heat filling him, and clenches his ass tight around JC, groans when a tight swivel of hips makes JC's cock brush against that spot, sending prickles of heat through him again. His cock throbs, spasms once more, then again, and then Justin's relaxing back, eyes going to Chris again. His head is back, hand moving furiously, and he shifts, moves, and JC barks, "no! On him, Chris—on his mouth—"

And Chris comes on him, spatters hitting his cheek, his mouth – he opens, licks his lips, quivers when more droplets hit, searing him, though they're not hot, just warm – his neck. On him. JC leans up and licks from his belly to his mouth, lapping at his own jizz, at what Chris left on him, then kisses him, licking at his mouth so he can taste it all.

They cuddle afterward, Justin in the middle of Chris and JC, and he's sleepy and warm, and maybe a little freaked out that he just had wild sex with two of his best friends, but just a little. Mostly he's sated, and comfortable, and JC smells really good, and Chris feels wonderful against his back.

"You okay, J?" JC strokes his forehead, and for the first time in a long time, Justin misses his curls. He kind of thinks he'd like to feel JC's fingers in them.

"Mmmm. Fine," he sighs, cuddling deeper into Chris' embrace. Chris is a good cuddler, he thinks. Warm and comfortable, and just—good. He cracks one eye open – wow, he's sleepy. But he feels so good. "Sleepy."

"Then sleep, goober." Chris nuzzles his neck, then leans up and kisses JC. "You, too."

"We all should," JC mutters, brushing a kiss across Justin's mouth. Chris makes an affirmative noise and clutches Justin closer.

Justin would respond, but he's already mostly there, eyes closed, body humming contentedly. Games are nice, but the after is good, too.

~fin~

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