The Twelve Disasters of Christmas

by J P Sayle

  Brad silently cursed. Defiantly he pulled off the last remaining barrier to reveal his scars. The glow of pride on Martin’s face had his wilting cock spring back to life.

  Brad glanced over his shoulder when he heard a door open. He chewed his lip, hoping to stop the saliva from dripping down his chin at Stuart’s glorious, naked, golden, and tattooed flesh.

  It took a second to register Joe’s harsh demand that no one touch Stuart. Brad smirked at his friend. He could totally get on board with that. He turned to Martin, giving his full attention.

  There is no way anyone is touching what belongs to me.

  The deep golden tan had hardly faded from their recent holiday. It seemed to make the tattoos scattered over his chest appear darker against the gold. Gold that glowed under the flickering candlelight. The naked muscles ripped sexily as Martin moved to sit on the navy leather chair. He spread his thighs open, beckoning Brad closer.

  The allure of all that naked flesh was too much to resist. Brad slid in between his rock-hard thighs.

  He felt rather than saw Joe move before he heard a clatter of items hitting the table next to their chairs. Brad felt his pulse spike when Martin positioned him so his arse and back were on full display before talking to the other men.

  “Brad was a naughty boy for not asking for what he wanted. So this was his punishment.”

  Brad felt his face burn with mortification when he knew all eyes had landed on his arse.

  “He has had to endure this little beauty in his arse all afternoon. For the entire party, hey, baby.” Martin’s words trailed off when Brad felt him slowly tugging on the end of the plug, right before pushing it deeper.

  Brad mewled. Unable to stop the sound from escaping, he gritted his teeth. The feel of the plug pushing against his sweet spot after hours of torment left his legs quivering and his cock dripping like a leaking tap.

  Brad knew without a shadow of a doubt that Martin was ensuring the other men’s focus was solely on his bottom and not his back. He would have kissed him for his thoughtfulness if he hadn’t been restraining him with his thighs and hand.

  He ground back, lost in the sensations that were lighting up his channel. He encouraged Martin to go deeper. Or pull out the plug and use his fingers, his cock, anything. He just needed more. The plug was no longer enough to take the edge of the need that had been building since Martin had teased him in the bathroom hours earlier.

  Brad felt the sweat gather under his hair. His pulse beat frantically as he tried to get some friction on his throbbing cock. A cock that was currently trying to attract Martin’s attention by dripping all over Martin’s balls and cock. The visual as the liquid gleamed under the flickering flames against Martin’s tanned skin had Brad’s tongue slide out of his mouth, licking his dry lips.

  The sounds from around the bedroom seemed to infiltrate past Martin’s need to torment him because he finally stopped making Brad suffer and removed the plug. Brad immediately wished Martin would push it back inside him when all he felt was empty. So at odds with how full he’d felt all day, he now felt bereft.

  He had no chance to complain when he watched Martin from under his lashes twist and grab the lube. His feral snarl as he pulled Brad closer, making him straddle his lap and face the bed had Brad tremble in anticipation of what was to come. The tiny hairs on his arms and legs leapt to attention, pleased to have what they’d been missing for the last few days. Days that had felt worse than all the years he’d tolerated with no sex. Hell, they paled into insignificance. There was just no comparison for him now.

  Brad writhed. His thoughts fled when large hands guided him down onto Martin’s large engorged erection. The bulbous head stretched his loosened pucker. The slight burn was welcome, taking the edge off his need to shoot cum all over the floor in front of him.

  Brad impaled himself on the steel rod that was Martin’s cock. His lips opened on a low moan. He sucked in a breath, struggling to hold still and allow his body to adjust to the intrusion. Sweat beaded his brow and upper lip. He willed himself to relax when Martin stroked his hands down his body before directing his gaze to the bed.

  How did I forget the other men in the room?

  Brad gasped a chuckle at his stupid question. Martin was his world. Why did he expect this to change that? Finding he had no answer, he watched Joe tease and torment Stuart’s body. The debauched picture they made as Joe sucked Stuart’s cock deep down his throat all the while riding his own fingers had Brad roll his hips.

  His want removed all common sense. Brad felt his need rise. He swayed, lifting his hips, then thrusting back down until his pelvis met Martin’s hairy thighs. The hair abraded the sensitive skin on the inside of his soft thighs, adding to his mounting pleasure.

  Brad panted, gasped, and ground down harder when Joe lifted his mouth and released his fingers to pick up the vibrator that sat next to Stuart. Brad groaned at the sound of buzzing and at Joe when he teased the tip of Stuart’s cock, making it buck and dance. Joe finally took pity on the writhing man, who as far as Brad could tell, was uttering utter nonsense.

  Though he wasn’t sure he was in a much better position when Martin caressed his nipples, twisting them till they burned. Brad released a sigh at the reprieve and panted when Martin sucked his fingers into his mouth. Brad gulped at the thoughts whizzing around his head as to what Martin was going to do next.

  Martin had only once before used his fingers at the same time as his cock, and Brad had been on all fours. He wasn’t sure Martin would be able to get his finger inside him in this position.

  When Martin shifted him forward, pushing on his back, Brad wasn’t sure whether he wanted to whine or beg. Brad tried to pull in a breath. Flashing lights burst in front of his eyes, convincing him a star had just burst through the window into the room, blinding him. He felt his body clench tightly when Martin eased his finger inside him alongside his cock.

  Brad growled, gripping the arms of the leather chair. The scent of leather hardly registered when the intense burn had him clasp his eyes tightly shut. Brad prayed he wouldn’t come before Martin had a chance to move his finger and cock together.

  His muscles struggled to relax for the deeper penetration that would come the minute Martin got busy thrusting into him.

  Brad opened his wet eyes, needing something to distract him. His spine was starting to tingle like he’d swallowed a whole packet of exploding candy. The visual in front of him mixed with the sounds around him did little to help. If anything, Brad found himself in a worse situation. The sight of Joe slowly pushing his cock into Stuart while Stuart growled and begged for more had his cock throb in agony. It pulsed and dripped all over the leather, making Brad wonder if he should have brought a towel to protect the chair.

  The thought had barely registered, when Martin chose that moment to thrust and push his finger deeper. The stretch was unbelievable. Brad’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. His arms shook as Martin encouraged him to move. Brad lifted and slammed back down repeatedly, losing himself under the onslaught of sensations.

  Brad felt his head loll forward. Sweat dripped down his cheeks as his eyes met Stuart’s. The heat of his eyes caressing his skin as Martin took hold of his cock held him captive.

  He rode the building storm as it gathered inside his body. Unable to harness it any longer, Brad howled as his cock erupted all over the chair, floor, and the end of the bed frame. It continued to spurt, making his balls ache as Martin thrust several more times before his body tensed. Martin’s thighs went solid as he came forcefully inside Brad. The heat spread in his channel, marking him in front of his friends.

  The languid satisfaction filling him had Brad collapse back against Martin’s heaving chest. His breath whistled past his ear, matching Brad’s.

  His heavy-lidded eyes were still glued to the bed as he watched Stuart finally find his release. He watched fascinated as Joe pulled out. Straddling Stuart’s upper chest, he stroked himself furiously. Brad exhaled at the sight Joe made
sitting on Stuart.

  Joe’s mahogany hair was soaked. It stuck to his forehead, framing his brown eyes. Eyes that looked like melted pots of hot chocolate were completely focused on pleasing the man lying in front of him.

  Stuart lavishly licked his swollen lips before opening his mouth wide.

  Brad felt Martin tense underneath him. He turned, catching the gleam of lust that darkened his eyes when Joe spurted cum all over Stuart and into his waiting mouth.

  Brad nuzzled into Martin’s neck, whispering, “We can try that. It can be our Christmas dessert tomorrow.”

  The low groan and twitch of finger and cock still buried in his arse had him clasp tightly. He wanted to whine in disappointment when Martin tilted him slightly to the side to remove his finger and let his cock slide out in a sticky mess.

  Martin shifted him back onto his tacky chest, whispering back, “That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

  Brad sucked his lip between his lips to stop the moan from escaping when his body tried to fire back to life. Brad searched for a distraction and grinned when he took in the room. His nose twitched. He only now noticed the scent of cum. Cum that seemed to cover all the occupants in the room, along with some of the furniture and the floor.

  Thank God they’d not done this at our house. Princess would never have recovered from the shock.

  Thoughts of Princess pulled him up short.

  Shitting hell!

  He’d completely forgotten about her. Brad buried his face in Martin’s neck, not wanting to ruin the night with his worries.

  As if sensing his mood change, Martin held him closer, shielding him from the rest of the room. Brad buried his head into his shoulder, letting Martin hold his worries at bay while he tried to figure out how to leave.

  Princess felt something tugging at her spirit, though what it was, she had no clue. She knew it wasn’t that evil bitch Christina. She had used her senses to track Christina, and this presence had a totally different feel to it.

  Princess slipped back out of the house, heading to Stuart’s garden. She spent the previous day hiding at Stuart’s, only going home for food. She’d made sure to time it just right so Brad wouldn’t see her. Not that he seemed to be worried about her. He didn’t even appear to notice she wasn’t in the house.

  Okay. He’d had his head up his arse since the whole party thing had been thrust on him by Martin. And yes, she’d heard him talking about how worried he was about what the bitchy witch was planning with Max.

  Still, he could have at least looked for me. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask?

  Princess growled at the darkness, feeling the tug inside her. Only this time it was harder to ignore. She felt her hackles rising, and her fur brushed against the rough wood, increasing her displeasure as the sense of unease grew in the pit of her stomach.

  Her eyes flashed with sudden colour before her body felt the air shift around her. The movement of the air left her dizzy, as if she was spinning in circles on a waltzer at the fairground. She heaved when suddenly everything stilled.

  Princess blinked her eyes, once, then twice. Her gaze never faltered from the large man sitting in front of her on a gleaming gold throne. A throne, though bold and shining as bright as the sun, did nothing to detract from the stunning man sitting on it. His long, flowing raven hair shone as it framed the stunning aquamarine eyes that glowed with curiosity. His plump lips opened in a smile, showing even white teeth. His black-and-silver coat fitted his broad shoulders while his matching trousers hugged his muscular thighs.

  She watched as the muscles bunched as he shifted. He leant forward, and his large hand encouraged her toward him. Only then did Princess notice her mother was sitting on one side while Max sat on the other. Her eyes narrowed.

  What the ever Christ is this?

  On the twelfth day of Christmas my fight club gave to me:

  The empty house and the temptation

  Christmas Eve

  Nick wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He dragged his hands through his ruffled hair. He sighed when his fingers got caught in the tangles he knew he’d created in his frustration. He couldn’t find it in him to worry about what a mess it was when his misery intensified after he stupidly stomped his sore foot on the floor. He cursed long and loud, wiping at his wet eyes.

  He glared at the closed bedroom door.

  This is all Brody’s fault.

  The voice at the back of his mind whispered.

  No, not totally.

  The nagging voice wouldn’t let him get away with that. It reminded him that if Aaden wasn’t dating Greg, then he’d be in Stuart’s bedroom, enjoying the sights with the other. No, instead, I’m stuck in my brother’s spare room, playing the avoiding game with Brody.

  A Brody, he might add, who was downstairs at this very minute making himself right at home.

  Nick let out a growl of disgust when he took off the orthopedic boot that was the bane of his life. His nose wrinkled at the smell of sweaty skin. He looked at the crinkled dry skin and his thinning calf muscle.

  He rubbed at the self-inflicted ache in his left foot, considering his choices. Nick closed his eyes. His shoulders drooped when his mind decided that there was only one option, and as far as he was concerned, that was also the impossible choice

  He grunted.

  His fists balled tightly when all he wanted to do was hunt Brody down and demand to know why he’d kissed him, especially when he had a boyfriend.

  Nick shifted, wrinkling his nose when the smell of sweaty skin rose on the warm air, making him think a soak in the tub should be next on his list of things to do.

  At least in the bathroom I can’t get into trouble.

  He grabbed his crutches off the floor. He winced when the cold metal grazed his bare legs, having stripped when he got home earlier. He gave his goosebumps a passing thought when his eyes stopped on the only piece of clothing he was still wearing.

  He looked back at the door, his brow furrowing.

  It wasn’t too far to the bathroom, and he could really do with a soak in the tub. He ignored the little devil inside him that told him he was asking for trouble roaming around the house in lace manties.

  Brody’s already seen my manties, so what is the difference now?

  Nick shrugged off the strident voice that said a big difference.

  He lifted up off the bed and hopped to the door, opening it. He exhaled when it made no noise. He poked his head out and saw the coast was clear. He hobbled over the bare floorboards. His attention was caught by the shine of varnished wood.

  Aaden had finally finished sealing the wood the day before. Sidetracked by how nice the wood gleamed, Nick failed to notice the shoe left lying outside the bathroom door. The left crutch landed unevenly. Nick staggered, trying to right himself and not put any weight on his injured left leg without the boot on. The rubber tip on the right crutch thought it would be fun to join in the “let’s trip Nick over party” as it slid on the new shiny floor he’d just been admiring.

  He tried to brace himself. He watched in slow motion as the crutch slid away, making him topple forward. Nick flailed, losing his balance completely.

  A loud clatter filled the empty hall as he was forced to release a crutch as he hit the wall with force. Nick howled as his shoulder took the brunt. He slid down the wall, landing in a heap on his bottom. Breathless, Nick let out a stream of curses under his breath, praying Brody hadn’t heard him.

  Any hope died rapidly when the sound of thundering feet ran up the stairs.

  Nick inhaled just as Brody crested the top of the stairs. Nick wasn’t sure who was more stunned, him from the fall or Brody from seeing him sprawled, nearly naked, on the hall floor. He did, however, know who recovered quicker when he found himself lifted as if he weighed nothing.

  “Why is it, squirt, that you have suddenly become a clumsy git?”

  Brody’s husky chuckle and minty breath slid over his face, clouding Nick’s mind and causing a full-body flush to
rise. Brody continued talking as if he was oblivious to the reaction he was causing.

  “I don’t ever remember you being an accident waiting to happen.”

  Large arms bulged and flexed as they held him tightly against a solid wall of hard, warm muscles. Unable to stop, he reacted to the show of sheer masculinity. His body went pliant when engulfed in Brody’s fragrant scent and aftershave. An aftershave Nick couldn’t place but found way too intoxicating when he inhaled as it enticed all senses. Senses he wanted to smack over the head with a frying pan when his body betrayed him.

  Nick willed himself to calm down. Even then, he found his traitorous arms sneaking around Brody’s thick neck and clinging on. His grip tightened when Brody strode back into his messy bedroom. Nick was astounded to note Brody was hardly out of breath.

  It was only when Brody paused at his unmade bed that Nick took stock of his room.

  The nights he’d spent tossing and turning were evident in the tangled grey sheets and chequered duvet that lay in a heap, with half of it hanging of the side off the bed, on the polished floor. A floor he noticed that was scattered with dirty clothes, parcels, and tools.

  Nick avoided looking at Brody as he spoke. “You can put me down. I’m fine. I just lost my footing when I didn’t see the shoe outside the…” Nick’s lips flapped, no words coming out when Brody sat with him in his lap.

  Stammering, he tried to dodge the large hand that had moved to touch his bare shoulder. “Err, you… em… don’t… need.”

  “Shut up, squirt. Your shoulder is turning all shades of purple and black. Fucksake, you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself for a minute. You need a bloody keeper.”

  “You offering?” It was out before Nick could register what he’d said. He sucked his lips into his mouth, clamping them tightly between his teeth to stop any more moronic comments from escaping. He silently cursed when Brody’s lips peeled back, showing his perfect white teeth as he gave him a predatory smile.