Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  One of Tide’s eyebrows went up. “You know better than that, Bran.”

  Bran rolled his eyes. “Oh, not you too.”

  “Yes, me too. We’d both like you to live to be old and gray, thank you very much,” he noted.

  “I’m totally capable, Sir.”

  “You aren’t driving the other vehicles on the road, boy.” Tyrone was growling.

  Lance was watching them like they were playing tennis.

  “Come on.” Tide sat, got comfortable, then patted his lap. “Assume the position, boy.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Bran climbed into his lap, settled against him easily.

  He slid his hands over Bran’s body, enjoying the smooth glide of shaved and waxed skin. “I do love a bare boy.” He hummed softly as he touched Bran, but his eyes were on Lance. If he did his job right, Lance would be shaved before their next meeting.

  He moved his touches to Bran’s ass, anticipating.

  Tyrone sat in front of Bran, on the floor. “I want to see your face, boy. Every second.”

  Reaching out with one hand, Tide touched Tyrone’s lips. Then he started, letting Bran have a good, solid swat. Lance gasped louder than Bran did. Oh yeah, they had his boy’s full attention now. That camera came up, though, and then they were shooting again.

  Tide found a rhythm, hand coming down hard again and again. Tyrone stole one kiss after another from Bran, drinking the cries his boy offered. The heat of Bran’s ass and Tide’s hand began to match, the burn delicious.

  “Look at his ass, Lance,” Tide ordered, wanting to make sure Lance was actually seeing this, not just photographing it. “You see how red it’s getting? It’s burning right up.”

  “Can you leave your hand there a moment, please?” Lance asked.

  “I can.” Tide smacked Bran’s ass, letting his hand linger on the burning flesh.

  “Thanks.” Lance clicked and shot, getting closer.

  Tide breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of Lance’s arousal. Then Lance backed off, and Bran spread, ass muscles jerking.

  “You want me to open this sweet hole for you, Tyrone?” Tide asked.

  “Please.” Tyrone’s voice was thick.

  “You got some lube handy we can use, Lance?”

  “Oh. I….” Lance brought the camera down, headed for the kitchen area. “Yeah. I’ll—I should wait on the balcony.”

  “No, you’re going to want to shoot this—Tyrone and Bran are sexiest like this. That fat cock spreading this fiery ass? It’s magic.”

  “I… that’s very personal.”

  Tide met Lance’s eyes. “Everything we’ve done here is personal. I know you can feel it. In your belly and in your balls. This is what you wanted to shoot, so immerse yourself and shoot it.”

  Lance turned away, grabbed the lube.

  “He’s good at hiding,” murmured Tyrone.

  “I’ve noticed.” Tide wanted to notice everything about Lance. Everything.

  Rubbing Bran’s ass to keep him warm, he waited for Lance to bring him the lube. Lance handed it over, so very careful not to touch him.

  “Thank you.” Tide held Lance’s gaze, not letting him look away. If he couldn’t have a physical touch, he’d take the visual connection.

  “You’re welcome.” The response was so soft and it made Tide smile; this man was a treasure.

  Lance backed off again, retreating almost to the kitchen.

  “You need to keep shooting, don’t you?” He slicked up his fingers before passing the lube to Tyrone to work on slicking up that gorgeous cock of his.

  “This seems very personal,” Lance repeated.

  “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Erotic fetish photographs? Don’t take pictures of the business end of it if it bothers you, just shoot their faces.”

  Tide wanted Lance to see the connection Tyrone and Bran had, the bliss their love brought them.

  Lance nodded, lifted the camera, but stayed on the outskirts. It would do for now.

  Tide fed his finger into Bran’s ass, pushing it deep right from the start.

  “Sir. Sir….” Bran made the best sounds.

  His fingers were a little—just a tiny bit—smaller than Tyrone’s, but he was rougher with them, giving Bran different sensations. Bran groaned softly, leather sheath sliding against his legs as Bran’s body responded.

  Tide pushed another finger in, spreading both wide and pushing them in and out.

  “How stretched do you want him?” he asked Tyrone.

  “Mmm. One more finger. You going to hold him for me?”

  “Please.” He loved that about Tyrone and Bran—they let him play with them and didn’t shut the door when it came to the lovemaking. He was included.

  Tyrone leaned down, kissed him hard. “Love you, huh?”

  He wrapped his free hand around Tyrone’s neck, kept him there for more kiss. “I know, man. I count on it.”

  Tyrone grinned, tongue sliding on his lips before he backed away, tapping Bran’s blistered ass with two fingers. Bran cried out, body bucking on Tide’s fingers. Fuck, Tyrone always knew just what to do to get Bran worked up.

  Tide pulled his fingers away and let Tyrone add more lube to them. Then he pushed all three into Bran’s ass, hitting that little gland inside Bran with his fingertips.

  “Sir! Master! Please!”

  Oh, perfect. Tide punched against that sweet little spot a few more times, then concentrated on using his fingers to stretch Bran open for Tyrone’s cock.

  “Me now. I want him.” Tyrone’s voice proved his need.

  Tide pulled his fingers free and helped Tyrone crouch down, press into that tiny hole. Once Tyrone was in, Tide slid his hand around to Tyrone’s ass, pushing against it with every thrust into Bran’s body. Bran slid on his thighs, hands wrapped around his calf.

  Wrapping his free hand around Bran’s shoulder, he anchored the boy there. That put him firmly around them, holding them both in his hands. It made him a part of them and Tide was soaring, so fucking hard he ached. The only thing better would be if Lance was right there with him.

  He looked around, but Lance was barely visible, hidden in the shadows. He wanted to call Lance over, insist he come closer and share this, but he wouldn’t ruin Tyrone and Bran’s moment with his own greed.

  Lance didn’t have the camera up, though, and was watching with his naked eyes. Tide scored that as a win and he kept his gaze on Lance, connecting with him that way as he held tight to Tyrone and Bran.

  Lance ducked his head, pulled back.

  No, no, pretty boy. Stay right here with us. Stay here and feel how bad I want you.

  His erection was trying valiantly to punch a hole in his leathers, and Tide wanted to touch, to strip Lance down past his clothes and make him scream. Groaning, he shifted slightly, spreading his legs wider.

  “So fucking good, boy. Take me. Every inch.” Tyrone was breathing hard, muscles working.

  Bran groaned, nearly sobbing with need.

  “Yeah.” Tide slapped two fingers across Bran’s red ass.

  “Please! Master!” The sheath wasn’t allowing Bran any friction at all.

  Tide didn’t say anything, though—Tyrone knew he’d be happy to remove the sheath if that’s what Tyrone wanted. But only if it was what Tyrone wanted.

  “Please what, boy?” Tyrone asked.

  “Please. Make me come. Let me shoot for you.”

  “Are you going to anyway?” Tide asked, gaze moving to Tyrone’s face.

  Tyrone smiled, the look fond. “If you come now, boy, you’ll have to have a punishment tonight. I’ll whip your hole….”

  Tide moaned softly at the thought.

  “That’s right, boy. I’ll make you hold yourself open, ask for each blow. Beg for it.” Tyrone’s low growls were getting to Tide; he couldn’t imagine how much hotter they seemed to Bran, and he knew there was no way Bran could hold out. Even sheathed, Bran was going to shoot.

  Tide shifted again, legs sliding against Bran’s covered
cock.

  Tyrone groaned softly. “Then I’ll plug you while you’re burning for me. The thick metal one with the heavy base that will push against your whipped hole.”

  Jesus Christ, Tyrone was good at this, his best friend had him needing to cream. He looked over at Lance, the man’s lips parted, eyes slightly glazed.

  “Don’t stop now, Tyrone,” Tide ordered. He kept watching Lance, the smell of sex all around him.

  Lance’s eyes went wide, and he turned suddenly, disappearing as he slid out the balcony door.

  Dammit. Tide closed his eyes with a groan.

  “He’ll come back to you. I know it.” Bran was a good man, a caring sub, offering Tide the encouraging words, even as his own need had to be huge.

  Tide squeezed Bran’s shoulder. “I know. But it’s good to have someone else confirm it.”

  Tyrone swatted Bran’s ass hard. “Where were we?”

  Tide bit his lip to keep from laughing. He wasn’t going to help Bran out, either.

  Tyrone winked. “Oh, I remember. You were wanting to come and I was agreeing, with a tiny little caveat.”

  “Little?” Bran groaned.

  “Tiny.”

  Tide laughed. “A beautiful gem of a caveat.” And he’d bet Bran wanted it, deep down.

  He touched the top of Bran’s cleft, willing to help. “I bet he’s beautiful, spread, tears on his cheeks.” He could just see it. And if Lance’s face replaced Bran’s in his imagination, he didn’t need to share that just yet.

  “He’s stunning and giving, offering me his pain, his hole.”

  Groaning, Tide rocked up, totally using the friction of Bran’s side to stimulate his own leather-clad cock. He had another pair of pants, after all, if he made a mess in these.

  Tyrone had a wicked smile on his face. “When you have your boy, we’ll play together. Have Bran teach your boy to plead, how to wear a cage for days, come without a touch to his cock.”

  It made Tide growl, that Tyrone was going to make him come, that the man knew he was doing it. “Bastard.”

  “We should all get off. You. Me. My boy.”

  “Mine on the balcony.” Because Tide was sure, if there was enough privacy, that Lance was whacking off furiously right now.

  “Yes. All of us. Just think, you can punish him for that soon. Remind him that cock is yours.”

  It was a hot fucking fantasy. Groaning, Tide rocked up harder.

  “Gonna fly together.” Tyrone was barely holding on, pumping into Bran in short, violent strokes.

  “Yes!” Tide pictured Lance on his knees, begging to be allowed to come, and his entire body jerked as his spunk sprayed from him.

  Bran had a death grip on his leg, and Tyrone moaned, long and low, as he emptied himself into Bran’s ass. Tide could smell Bran’s come as well, knew the leather sheath had been thoroughly soaked. The only thing missing was Lance’s orgasm. He wanted it. He needed it. He needed to know.

  “I need to—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence, Tyrone was already pulling out of Bran’s ass and tugging his boy into his arms, freeing Tide up with a knowing look.

  Tide didn’t even worry about it, moving quickly to the balcony door where he’d last seen Lance as the man ran from them, from himself.

  Lance was sitting in the deck chair, smoking, top button of his jeans undone.

  “That’s a filthy habit,” Tide noted.

  “I know.”

  “You should have stayed and finished up with us instead of on your own.” He took the cigarette from Lance’s fingers and put it out against the rail.

  “That’s…. There have to be limits.”

  “That is something that’s usually discussed, yes. But we were open to having you.”

  “What? No. No, I mean the photographs.”

  “But you should have stayed. We all came together and I did it thinking of you, imagining you were with us.” He could have backed off, but he didn’t want to—he wanted Lance.

  Lance grabbed another cigarette, fingers shaking violently. Tide took it from Lance’s hands and tossed it as he crouched down. Ignoring the uncomfortable mess in his leathers, he took Lance’s hands in his and held them together.

  “Hey. Take a breath.”

  “I-I-I—” Lance sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe I’m the wrong photographer.”

  He noticed Lance wasn’t tugging his hands away. “Why would you say that?”

  “This is more intense than I’d thought. Personal.”

  “You’re more interested in what’s going on than you expected,” Tide suggested.

  “Maybe I should start again tomorrow.”

  “We can do that if that’s what you want. You have us booked for the week, but I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “I’m okay. Need a drink, maybe. Do you guys need anything?”

  “We’re good. Well, I could probably use a shower before changing back into my street clothes. And I’d love to have a drink with you.” It would be a reason to stay longer, after Tyrone and Bran had gone.

  “Let me get you some towels.”

  “In a minute.” He squeezed Lance’s hands. “I’m enjoying talking with you.”

  “I’m a little freaked out,” Lance admitted.

  “I could tell.” Leaning in, he whispered, “What I’m going to do now will either help or make it worse.” Then he pressed their lips together.

  Lance gasped, sucked in a deep breath. The smoking would have to stop. He wanted to taste Lance, not those nasty cigarettes. Nonetheless, he pressed forward with the kiss, moving his lips against Lance’s.

  Lance opened up, hands fluttering like mad. Tide twined their fingers together, taking Lance’s invitation and slipping his tongue between Lance’s lips.

  Lance stood up. “Oh, this isn’t. I’m not a…. Let me get you a towel.”

  “What you are is a sexy, beautiful man.”

  “Please. I need— You shouldn’t have come out. I’m freaked.” Lance’s eyes were wide, only adding to his appeal.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being freaked. It doesn’t mean you have to run away.”

  Although that seemed to be what Lance did, wasn’t it? Hide. Run. Escape.

  Tide stood as well and took another kiss, sliding his hand through Lance’s hair and tilting his head slightly. Lance reached out, fingers spread over Tide’s chest. They were cool against his skin, and he covered them with his free hand, holding Lance’s hand against him.

  God, their electricity was perfect, delicious.

  He deepened the kiss, finally beginning to taste Lance through the cigarettes.

  Someone slammed a door in the apartment complex and Lance jerked, pulled away. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Never apologize for kissing me.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” Lance headed inside in a rush, bumping into Bran. “Sorry. Sorry. There’s towels and soap, and the bathroom’s clean. Privacy, huh?”

  Bran grabbed hold of Lance’s shoulders. “Dude. Breathe.”

  “I swear, I’ll be totally cooler tomorrow. Valium now and in the morning.”

  Bran leaned in and glanced over at him, grinned. “Tide’s an awesome guy.”

  “I bet. You’re all super lucky. There are Cokes in the fridge, I’m going to give you guys some space.”

  “Oh, honey, we’ve invaded you, we’ll go.” Bran gave Lance a hug.

  Lance smiled, the look shaky as hell. “Ten tomorrow. I’m sure I got some great shots.”

  “Okay, honey.”

  Tide gave Bran an approving smile. He was a good boy.

  Lance slipped into the room where Tide’s street clothes were, gathered them, and placed them on the kitchen bar with some towels. Tide desperately wanted to grab Lance up and assure him, but he knew that wasn’t in the cards today. Luckily for them, they had all week.

  Lance disappeared into the bedroom, and Bran watched him go. “He’s totally wigged.”

  “I know. We’ll let him have his Valium and
we’ll blow his mind again tomorrow.” After all, he had patience and persistence. Two qualities he was pretty sure he was going to need in high supply.

  Chapter Three

  LANCE JACKED off before the guys showed this time, working his cock until he ached. He had his smokes, and a Valium sitting on the inside of the cupboard by the mugs, just in case. The vodka was in easy reach too. He could handle this. He had his glasses on, his loose jeans. He was going to be a professional if it killed him.

  Despite all that, the knock on the door had him jumping. Oh God, they were early. Only five minutes, but still. Early. Okay. Okay. He was a normal male. The sex was hot. It was normal.

  He headed to the door, opened it. Oh, no fair. Tide was even hotter than he remembered. And that smile, coupled with the gaze that said Lance was the only other person in the world….

  “Come in.” Cool. Chill. Super chill. That was him.

  Tide’s smile made him forget his own name. “Thanks.”

  Tyrone and Bran were behind Tide, and it was a one-two-three knockout punch.

  “How do you want us today?” Tide asked.

  “I sent some of the photographs to my client. He’s requested some bondage images.”

  “Good thing I brought the rope.” Tyrone held up a large bag.

  “Yeah. Do you need the massage table set up?” It was padded and he’d be able to circle it, find the best shot.

  “Yeah, that will work. Did you bring the red silk sheet, Tyrone?” Tide took the bag from Tyrone and started going through it. “Bran’s skin looks amazing against the red.”

  Lance would need to put down another backdrop. Maybe the deep blue one. Or the green. He muscled the table over, grateful for something to do. Tide helped him, smiling warmly.

  Bran and Tyrone spread the red silk over the table and Bran began to strip.

  Lance pulled down the green backdrop and checked the levels, taking a few test shots. No. No, he didn’t like that. “Hold on. I’m not happy with this.” He stood, trying to decide. Red or blue?

  Tide slid a hand along his shoulder. “What do you need?”

  The touch tingled, buzzed along his nerves. “Just trying to decide whether to use the red or the blue backdrop.”