Braided Page 2

  A hot tongue drew a pattern on his ass. "Adorable?"

  Peter giggled.

  "Bed," he growled, more pleased than he was willing to admit to these two firebrands.

  "Yes, Bowie." The voices came together, then the two wicked boys were tugging him into the mass of covers.

  It was soft and wonderful and smelled like them and he lay back, opening his arms. Two bodies pushed up against him, rubbing and touching, writhing against him and each other.

  Oh...

  He'd done a threesome once. A long time ago. And he'd topped two more than once, but there had never been sex involved. This was... this was hot. He moaned, hips pushing, searching for them to rub against.

  Two hands dropped over his cock, working together with sure, strong strokes, the brothers kissing as he watched. So pretty, so hot and eager, Paul's tongue deep in Peter's mouth. Groaning, he rubbed their asses in his hands.

  Peter leaned back. "Want m...m...me to suck him?"

  He purred but shook his head. "You boys must know what a sixty-nine is, yeah? Let's do it with three. All get our rocks off."

  Peter's moan was an answer and then the soft, hot mouth dropped over his cock, sucking hard.

  "Oh yes, come here, Paul. Let me have you."

  He helped Paul maneuver around and took the eager prick into his mouth, tongue playing over the hot flesh. He felt a moan around his own cock as Peter's was taken, the suction growing stronger, steadier, tongue lapping at his shaft. He sucked harder himself, feeling the circle of pleasure vibrate through him.

  There were two small, heavy rings behind Paul's balls, warm to the touch, smooth under his fingers. They made him moan, cock jerking in Peter's mouth. He hummed around Paul's prick, one finger hooking into the rings, testing them, feeling the way the metal had picked up the heat from Paul's body. Then he gave them a quick tug.

  He heard a sharp cry, Paul's hips jerking, pushing that hard cock into his lips. He sucked harder, his own hips moving now, pushing deep into Peter's throat as his fingers played with the rings, tugging and twisting them. Peter took him in deep, all the way to the root, humming around his cock even as Paul's movement grew erratic, graceless.

  Bowie pushed his little finger into Paul's hole as he sucked even harder, determined to send Paul over first. That tiny hole clenched and seed filled his mouth, the long cock pulsing. He swallowed it down and continued to suck softly, finger moving within Paul's ass, pulling out shuddering aftershocks from the man.

  Paul's pleasure ensured, Bowie could concentrate on his own, Peter's mouth hot and good around his cock. Peter's tongue worked the tip of his prick, then those lips sank down again and again, Peter's hands tugging him in deep.

  He held onto Paul's rings with one hand, the other finding the sheets and digging in as he started to hump up, meeting Peter's mouth more than halfway.

  Peter cried out around his cock, pulling hard and shuddering.

  "Yes!" He shoved in deep and came down Peter's throat, pleasure going up his spine like a shock. Peter swallowed around him, moaning low.

  He lay there with them, purring himself, feeling good in his skin. The boys curled around him, hands sliding over him, happy little sounds filling the air.

  They were pretty and sexy and eager and hot.

  Peter's purple skin drew his hands, his fingers searching out the hottest spots, the spots that made Peter grin. And Paul. Paul was all lanky muscles and smooth skin.

  They were an interesting mixture of similarity and difference. Peter was shorter, smaller, nipple and cock pierced, tiny pale tattoos almost hidden in the purple dye. Paul as well-tattooed with colorful, fanciful animals and beasts and flowers. But they were both warm and the shapes of their faces -- the long noses, almond-shaped eyes -- those were the same.

  "So tell me, boys -- what do you like best? Favorite food? Favorite piercing on yourself, on your lover? Favorite color? Favorite position? Do you like a flogger or a strap better?" He wanted to know everything about them.

  Paul started laughing. "I like clams, Peter likes chocolate. I love the tongue piercing, want Pete to get one. Pete likes his nipple. We both love colors and I like fucking Pete's mouth and... What was the other?"

  "Fl...fl...fl...."

  "Oh, right. Peter's skin shows the blows perfectly, much better than mine."

  "Do you always talk for your brother, Paul?" He stroked Paul's lips, thinking the man would look lovely in a gag.

  "No. Pete just talks slow. Stutters. It's horrible waiting. Beside, I know what he'd say." Paul kissed his fingers, nuzzling them.

  He frowned. That wasn't going to encourage Peter to talk. Not at all. Oh yes, he would have to go through his things and find a nice, soft gag to keep Paul quiet, make the man wait for his brother to express himself. "Oh you do, do you? Peter? Does he? Always?"

  Peter nodded, dark eyes smiling up at him. "A...a...a...almost."

  Paul reached down and tweaked Peter's nipple. "Liar! When was the last time I was wrong?"

  Peter stuck his tongue out. "My favorite color is b...b...b...blue."

  Bowie chuckled. Oh, they were a delight.

  "I think whenever we're in a scene, I would like Peter to do the talking. If that's a problem we'll just make sure your mouth is always full, Paul."

  Two wide sets of eyes met his, the boys looking shocked. "But..."

  "Full?"

  "Oh."

  "I..."

  "What's this? Speechless?" He chuckled again, hands stroking down along their spines. "You're going to make me think that you're either pushovers or I'm just that good."

  "We're not pushovers!" Paul gave him an outraged look and snorted. "We don't know if you're that good yet. What you like, what's your favorite color, that shit."

  Peter giggled. "We know he t...t...tastes good."

  "I don't know yet." Paul pouted.

  "Well feel free to find out for yourself." He wasn't going to say no to another blow job. It would be interesting to see if Paul's technique would be different from Peter's. Not to mention he'd never been fellated by anyone with a tongue piercing before.

  "But... you didn't tell us anything. Where are you from? What turns you on? What don't you like?" Paul stuck out that pierced tongue, the barbell glowing.

  "You'll have to earn information. I've come once, so you get one question." He held up his hand. "Peter gets one question."

  Paul blinked, but Peter grinned and rubbed one cheek against his chest. "W...w...what gets you o...o...off?"

  He purred approvingly. "Control. Having it. Using it. Ceding it. Keeping it. Taking it from another. Giving it back. Turning people on their heads -- figuratively. Sex. Mouths and asses, cocks."

  Peter cuddled closer, leg sliding along his.

  "He likes that sound you make."

  "I know, Paul, he just told me." The boy really did need to learn to let Peter speak for himself, to be patient.

  "He did not. I was right here."

  Peter reached up and grabbed Paul, kissing him thoroughly. "Shh..."

  "He did, you know." Bowie stroked their lips, touching them where they merged. "He just didn't use words.”

  They leaned down, bringing him into the kiss, sharing their flavors with him. He purred again. They did taste nice, especially together, the flavor of his own come still mixed in. Peter made a soft little sound in response, which made Paul chuckle, the laughter warm and fond against his lips.

  "What do you like about me?" he asked Paul softly. He wasn't fishing for complements, just evening the playing field between them.

  Paul cupped one hand beneath the flame colored eyes, popping out the contacts and allowing him to see the rich, dark brown that matched his brother. "I like how you see us."

  He moaned, eyes on Paul's as he brought their lips together. Paul sank into the kiss, all warmth and ease, Peter settling beside, watching. He put his hand behind Paul's head, tilting it slightly so he could push his tongue in deep as he stroked the hot skull. Paul moaned, lips wrapping aroun
d his tongue and sucking, the tongue piercing sliding against him.

  That made him growl, made his prick jerk. "I want to feel that on my cock," he told Paul, finger sliding in to touch the piercing.

  Paul fastened over his finger, sucking hard, tongue teasing.

  He managed to chuckle, though it was much thicker than usual. "That's not my cock, Paul."

  Paul grinned, licking his finger once more. "Why no. No, it's not."

  He chuckled again. "Cheeky."

  Peter giggled as Paul licked down his body, nuzzling his belly, teasing his cock.

  "You -- talk to me or kiss me – either one’s going to make it good,” he told Peter.

  "T...talk to you?" Peter's eyes went wide and he received a hard kiss, Peter's tongue pushing in as Paul's mouth surrounded his cock. He made a soft noise, happy with the kiss and the sucking, though he would make Peter talk in the future. A lot.

  In the meantime their mouths were wonderful -- hot and wet and driving him wild. The hard smoothness on Paul's tongue was maddening and Peter's hands on his nipples were driving him insane. He writhed beneath their touches, hips pushing, wanting more from Paul, more of that metal teasing his cock, more of Peter's knowing touches.

  Paul started pressing into the tip of his cock, fucking his prick with the smooth ball of the piercing.

  "Fuck!" Surprised, aroused, he jerked and shot, the orgasm dragging through his spine.

  Peter grinned at him, chuckling as Paul swallowed. "N...n...neat trick."

  "Yeah." His voice was hoarse, shudders still going through him as Paul cleaned him.

  "Yeah." Peter nodded and reached down, stroking Paul's hair, the motion relaxed and easy.

  He moaned happily, and settled his ass into the softness of the bed. "Invite me to stay the night."

  Two sets of dark eyes smiled at him. "Stay?"

  "Yes, I do think I will."

  The boys curled together, still around him, moaning softly, bodies soft and warm.

  Oh, yes, he thought. It had indeed been a very good first day.

  Chapter Two

  Paul had been good as long as he could. He'd been up for hours.

  Hours.

  Okay, twenty minutes, but still.

  He bounced onto Peter with a grin, giggling at the 'oof' and the groan and the roll. Of course, the roll knocked him off onto the floor into the laundry and he pulled Peter down on top of him where he could tug the nipple ring.

  "Bitch!"

  "Morning, brother!"

  "P...p...paul!"

  "Yep. Been up for days. Hungry. Bored."

  Peter curled back up into the blankets, squealing as his hands squeezed that tight ass.

  A growl froze them both and Bowie's head popped up over the edge of the bed, green eyes looking right at him. "Someone needs to learn some manners."

  Peter peeped and disappeared under the blankets and he stuck his tongue out. "I didn't jump on you! I jumped on him! You can sleep, honest."

  One of Bowie's eyebrows went up. "I'm awake now. Peter -- there's some leather scraps in my pants pockets. Go get them for me."

  Peter wiggled, trying to get out of the blanket, and he sat harder, thumping Peter's ass. "Traitor! Whose side are you on?"

  "His own, I presume," Bowie answered for Peter. "As you won't let him up you go get the leather for me."

  "I... Which pants are yours?" Peter reached out, snagging Bowie's pants and holding them up for him. "Thanks, Petey."

  "Welcome."

  Bowie, looking less and less impressed, held out his hand imperiously.

  He had the good graces to be embarrassed, reaching down into the blankets for his brother after handing the pants over. "I think he's pissed at us, Petey. Get up?"

  Peter nodded, scooting up to settle on the bed between him and Bowie. "M...m...m...morning." Oh, his brother loved him so.

  Bowie's eyebrow was still raised as he fished out the scraps of leather from his pockets before refolding the pants. "Good morning, Peter. Would you be so kind as to hold your brother's hands by the bedstead? You may return my pants to the pile with the rest of my clothes when you're done."

  "P...p....paul?" Peter slowly drew his hands over to the bedpost, fingers stroking his wrists, eyes still on Bowie.

  Well, it wasn't boring, was it?

  Bowie nodded. "Quite right, Peter, I'm sorry. Stop for a moment, both of you. I need yellow and red light words."

  "We use yellow and red. Both of us." Peter nodded, agreeing with him.

  "That's easy to remember." Bowie gave Peter a sharp look. "No more questioning my orders. If your brother is uncomfortable with a scenario he'll either yellow or red or if you are uncomfortable you will yellow or red. Otherwise what I say goes. Without question."

  Peter shivered, looking over at him and he smiled. He loved playing. Loved it. And Bowie it seemed was very good at playing. Too bad neither of them were good at unquestioning obedience.

  Peter took his hands, held them for Bowie.

  "Better." Bowie efficiently tied his hands to the bedpost and then tied his feet together. A third bit of leather held his balls and prick in a tight, but not quite uncomfortable vise.

  Peter took Bowie's pants and put them with Bowie's other clothes, then sort of edged around the room, eyes wide.

  "He's not really awake yet and we've not had a... a morning dom,” Paul explained.

  Bowie ignored him completely in favor of holding his hand out to Peter. "Come. Make love with me."

  "Hey! No fair!" Paul pouted dramatically at both of them as Peter picked his way across the floor to Bowie.

  Bowie gave him a quiet look. "Perhaps tomorrow morning you will be more patient and less loud."

  Then the man's attention turned again to Peter.

  "I was patient for hours and you're going to be nice to him because he's lazy?" Oh, now, that was no fair.

  Peter shook his head, the silver hair pretty in the morning light -- even if he was pissed at the short little shit -- glistening against the violet skin.

  Bowie just ignored him, taking Peter's hands and pulling him onto the bed, bringing their mouths together, Bowie's skin so pale next to the purple of Peter's.

  Oh, they were really pretty together.

  Assholes.

  Bowie turned Peter onto his back on the bed and leaned against him, kissing him.

  And kissing him.

  And kissing him.

  Just how long were they going to just kiss?

  Paul tugged against the bonds. "If you two are going to keep being boring, then I'm going to go away and find someone to fuck. You hear that, Peter?" He had the satisfaction of seeing Peter stiffen, toes curl.

  Bowie looked up at him. "Do I need to gag you?"

  Oh.

  Oh. Wow.

  His cock sort of went boing and he shook his head. "No. Nope."

  Bowie looked at him a moment longer and then returned to kissing Peter, entire focus on his twin. This time Bowie also slid his fingers along Peter's violet skin, slowly exploring. Peter moaned softly, relaxing under the touches, dyed fingers sliding up along Bowie's spine. Oh, God. He knew how good that felt.

  Bowie's fingers found Peter's nipple ring, tugging and twisting it. Peter gave a soft, muffled cry and Paul moaned, tugging at the leather again. He wanted to play, too.

  Bowie moaned as well, moving slowly against Peter. He could see that long, fat prick slide along his brother's thigh.

  "No fair... I want to play, too. Please." He didn't even notice his mouth moving, just heard the sounds float through the air.

  Bowie didn't seem to even hear him, moving down Peter's body to lick at the unadorned nipple. Peter arched, soft little moaning sounds making his balls ache. Those were his sounds. His. Bowie kept pulling them out of Peter with his mouth and fingers, licking from one nipple to the other, fingers also rolling Peter's balls.

  "Stop. Those are my sounds. I make him feel good. Me." But he could see the pleasure Peter was experiencing, the same pleasure
they all shared last night.

  He was ignored again, Bowie sliding his tongue in Peter's navel. Peter arched, legs parting, eyes closed in pleasure.

  Fuck, they were mean.

  Really, really mean.

  Bowie moaned, fingers going back to Peter's nipples as he licked at the tip of Peter's cock.