by Jules Jones
“You’re turning human in your old age,” Patrick muttered. “And the pair of you have put me off now.” He stopped what he was doing, although he didn’t pull out.
“I’m sure you can bring yourself to continue,” George said. “Don’t mind me; I’m just going to wash my hands.”
Martin heard the sound of running water, presumably George using the small sink in one corner of the room. Then he was distracted by the feel of Patrick moving in him again. Obviously not all that put off by having rude remarks directed at him.
The slow buildup of sensation felt very good indeed. Slow thrusting inside him, getting faster, and then again a quick orgasm, Patrick sighing in pleasure as he came.
A few seconds later, George said, “Right, you -- off.”
Martin heard a slap and felt Patrick jerk. “Bastard. I was enjoying that.”
“And I want to enjoy it as well. Besides, you’ll need to change your condom.”
Patrick pulled out, muttering to himself about big bullies. Martin couldn’t help smiling. Patrick wasn’t exactly on the small side himself, and George only had the advantage in height over him by an inch or so. But there must have been a time in adolescence when George really was a lot bigger, and with the advantage of delegated maternal authority. The pair still played on it now and again, and Martin found it rather endearing.
“Well, at least he should have loosened you up nicely for me,” George said.
By now he could rouse enough energy to answer, even if it was only, “Mmm.”
“Let’s see if I can wake you up.”
George slammed into him with a speed that made him very glad that Patrick had loosened him up first. “Ooph.”
“Said I’d wake you up.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, I’m fucking on,” George said in his best reasonable tone of voice.
“God, I’m not awake enough to deal with your sense of humour.” He’d have jabbed an elbow into George, but it required more energy than he felt like expending. It was easier just to lie there and concentrate on the way it felt to have George’s cock filling him.
“I can last longer with one go than Patrick did with two,” George boasted.
“Sounds good to me,” he mumbled.
Patrick dropped heavily onto the bed, making Martin bounce up against George. It was a pleasant sensation. Patrick stroked his arm, presumably the only bit of him that was in easy reach. “It’s good to have a partner who likes it whichever way we fuck him.”
Not teasing now, but an honest statement of fact. He stirred himself enough to reach out to Patrick, was pleased to have Patrick take his hand and hold it.
“I think you’re managing to wake him up,” Patrick said.
“Good. I want him taking part next time round.”
George was probably going to get his wish. Between the way George’s cock was rubbing against his prostate, and the way George’s thrusts were making his cock rub against the sheet beneath him, he was starting to feel a distinct interest in waking up properly. He squeezed down on George’s cock. That felt even better, especially when George swore and gave him an even harder stroke.
Still no touch directly to his cock, nothing but the friction of the sheet, but it didn’t matter now. He was hard and interested, and wanting more, and said so.
“All right,” George said. “If you want it, you’ll get it.”
He was treated to a demonstration of the difference between George doing it hard and fast but under tight control, and George just going hell for leather. Hard, heavy strokes, with the sound of George’s breathing harsh in his ear. He was pinned down by George’s weight, and loving it. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, just lie there and be filled with George’s cock. Patrick was squeezing his hand in time with George’s strokes, talking about how good it was to watch George fuck him.
If he’d cared to, he might have caught up with George. But he was enjoying the anticipation too much, the sense of being overwhelmed by a force of nature. So he let it all happen to him, wallowed happily in the sensation of George’s cock throbbing inside him as George came.
George slumped down onto him, but had the manners to roll off him a minute later, before he started wondering if he’d be able to breathe. They lay for a moment with George’s arm across his back. Then Patrick pushed at his shoulder until he turned on his side a little to face Patrick, grabbed him, and kissed him thoroughly. Patrick’s tongue filling his mouth was a good way to take his mind off George having left him feeling empty at the other end.
George let go of him and stood up. “Back in a minute.”
As Patrick let go of him, giving him room to move, he stretched thoroughly. He was still feeling a little bit of early-morning stiffness. He might have just had rather a lot of exercise, but he hadn’t actually done much moving himself.
That completed the job of waking up. He opened his eyes and rolled over onto his back, feeling awake enough now to want a cuddle with his sex. Patrick jumped on him. Patrick’s cock against his felt good.
“Oi!” George protested. “You’ve already had two goes!”
“You got off. I thought you’d finished.”
“I was being considerate and changing my condom for a fresh one, you pillock. Come here.” George grabbed Patrick by the shoulders and tried to peel him off Martin. Patrick refused to be budged, clinging to him with grim determination.
The scuffle was entertaining, but being at the bottom of it might get a bit wearing after a while, and they were starting to get noisier, perhaps noisy enough to attract Simon’s attention. He looked Patrick in the eye and said, “I thought you were a dolphin, not a limpet?”
Patrick promptly collapsed in a fit of laughter, and George won the battle by being able to control his laughter for those vital few seconds. He pulled Patrick away and took his place, kneeling over Martin. “This way up?”
“Mmm.” He held out his arms, and George settled down on top of him. It felt good to hold George in his arms, now that he was awake enough to want to take part.
“If Patrick’s that desperate for another go,” George said, “I’d better not let you come.”
“Yes, George.”
“You’re not being very convincing as a sub this morning.”
Probably because neither of them was being very serious about being a dom this morning. “I’m quite serious about wanting you to fuck me.” He pulled George’s head down so that he could kiss him.
George gave him a long kiss, then said, “You really are interested now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” As further encouragement, he wriggled into a better position for George to get access.
George took the hint and entered him in one smooth, easy glide. This wasn’t the hard and fast urgency of a few minutes ago, but a more leisurely fuck. The height difference made kissing too awkward, but he could still hold George, stroke his back.
And this wasn’t just the two of them. Patrick obviously bore no grudge over being unceremoniously dumped on the other side of the bed, for he knelt beside them and stroked George’s head. His cock was hard, but his expression was tender as he looked down at them.
Martin’s own need was more urgent now, his cock straining against George, his pulse racing. But George said, “Keep it for Patrick. I like watching him make you come.”
“All right. But I won’t be able to hold off much longer,” he warned.
“Then I’d better finish quickly.”
One of the curious things about George and Patrick was that they could switch between dolphin and human response patterns, even when they were in the middle of fucking him. George gave him a few more strokes and came, leaving him aroused but not absolutely desperate yet. George pulled out, then slid off to lie next to him. “Hold me for a moment.”
He did as he was asked, cradling George in his arms. He wanted his own relief, but it could wait for a few moments. This had to be about last night, when George had started to worry about him.
It only too
k a moment or two to reassure George. “I’m all right now. Take your turn, Martin.”
“Want me on my hands and knees?” He was awake enough now to take an active part. George liked watching, and that position gave him a good view.
George glanced past him at Patrick and grinned. “No, I think I’d rather watch with you on top. And it’s time you had a turn with your cock in someone’s arse.”
Patrick started to protest, then stopped and looked thoughtful. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind it as a change from you, George. Even when you’re trying not to dominate, it always feels as if you’re on top-top, not just on top.”
George sat up and reached over him to lay a hand on Patrick’s chest. “I know, love. But I am trying, I promise.” Then George looked down at Martin. “Would you mind switching in the middle like that? I know this didn’t start out vanilla, but he’s right. You’d do a much better job of keeping it vanilla than I could.”
He was startled, but he didn’t mind. He and Patrick had kept to their preferred D/s roles until now, but it had been mostly a matter of revelling in finding a well-matched partner. They were both quite capable of enjoying vanilla sex, either way up. “It sounds good to me.”
“Right.” Patrick scrambled onto his hands and knees.
Of course, there was going to be one minor delay. “What have you two done with the condoms and lube?”
“We found the new packets you brought before we went to bed last night.” George reached over to the bedside cabinet and rummaged in the drawer. “Here.”
He put on a condom and warmed some lube in his hand before easing a finger into Patrick. He took it carefully; he knew a lot about Patrick’s likes and dislikes by now, but they hadn’t done this before, and he wanted to make sure he got it right.
Patrick pushed back a little, sighing with pleasure, so he pushed all the way in. He stroked his finger back and forth across Patrick’s prostate, trying to find the best rhythm and pressure for Patrick.
“Oh, that’s good,” Patrick said.
“Bit more, or would you like my cock?”
“Bit more, please.”
So he made it foreplay rather than practical preparation, doing his best to make it feel good for Patrick. It gave him a chance to admire Patrick’s arse, hard muscles and a nice shape. Patrick must have been out in the sun in the nude at least some of the time, because even his cheeks were tanned a pale gold; but there was a tan line on his waist just where his jeans would end.
“Better?” George asked.
“Mmm.” Patrick reached out a hand to George. “I’m not complaining; it’s just ...”
“I know.” George glanced at Martin. “We weren’t complete without a real third.”
Any two of them weren’t quite matched, couldn’t quite satisfy each other’s needs. But with all three of them, they could each have everything they wanted. “I’d regret not having known you sooner, only I think I needed to learn first what I want from a partner.”
George nodded. “I don’t regret the time we spent at the beach. We learnt a lot, and we found the company we needed. I can appreciate you better because of it.” George stroked Patrick’s back.
“I certainly appreciate him,” Patrick said. “Martin, can I have your cock now?”
He stopped fingering Patrick and eased his cock in. He tried to take it slowly, make it a nice smooth thrust. It was an effort to control himself; he might like being sucked best of all, but it had been too long since the last time he’d done this, and the tight heat around his cock made him want to thrust mindlessly.
One stroke, two, three, and he was satisfied that Patrick was comfortable, could take it harder than he was already giving right now. But Patrick probably needed something more, and he couldn’t quite reach comfortably to get a hand on Patrick’s cock.
“George?”
“Mmm?”
“Give Patrick a hand. And don’t try to control him; just give him something convenient to rub against.”
George looked amused at being told what to do, but reached under Patrick and took hold of his cock.
“Thanks,” Patrick muttered. “Feels good.”
Happy now that Patrick had everything he needed, Martin let go of his own control and went for it. Good, hard thrusting into Patrick’s body, loving the way it felt snug and tight around his cock. Hearing Patrick gasp and knowing that each thrust of his hips was forcing Patrick’s cock through George’s hand.
Faster now, harder, but still attention to spare for Patrick, and George too. George was watching them both greedily, gaze flicking between them. He could feel/hear that strange sound on the edge of his hearing and knew that George was watching with more than just his eyes.
Patrick deliberately clamped down on him, urging him on. It felt wonderful, lovely tight pressure holding him in a smooth grip. Then Patrick warned, “I’m going to come!”
He was almost there himself. The repeated fucking they’d both given him had been a wonderfully long, languorous foreplay, leaving him aroused and ready to go. Now he was on the edge.
A few seconds later, Patrick did come, groaning with pleasure. Patrick’s internal muscles pulsed around Martin’s cock, and the exquisite pressure pushed him beyond the point of no return. He slammed himself into Patrick one last time and came.
The slow buildup and then the sudden novelty of being on top made it so much better than a quick fuck would have been. He enjoyed it all -- how good it felt to come, the sight of Patrick on hands and knees in front of him, the way Patrick’s hips felt under his hands, and then George laying a hand over his. The three of them together.
Finally he pulled out, and Patrick flopped down onto the mattress, looking thoroughly contented.
George said, “Have you got a hand for me, Patrick?”
Patrick grinned and said, “As long as you’re quick.”
Martin might have flopped down himself. Instead he eased into a comfortable sitting position where he had a good view as Patrick reached out one hand and took hold of George’s cock. George must have been close. One stroke, two, three, and then he was spilling come over Patrick’s hand.
There was silence for a few moments. Finally Patrick said, “Who’s first for a shower?”
“I’ll go first.” He might as well be up and available as a security blanket before either of them ventured out to the bathroom. “Shall I put the kettle on on the way?”
There was a chorus of, “Please!”
Chapter Twenty-One
All four of them sat down to breakfast together. Martin wondered how things were going to go, but Simon demonstrated his ability to get along with all sorts of people. He started straight in with a neutral topic. “I suppose you’re going to go into town this morning to pick up more tools now that you’ve got electricity in the house?”
Patrick the gadget freak brightened visibly. “We should keep it simple to start with, but getting a couple of work lamps and some power tools will speed things up a lot.” He and Simon started a lively discussion on the best things to include in a basic tool kit.
Martin and George looked at each other and settled down to eat.
Twenty minutes later, they were on their way. As they were leaving, Simon said, “Having the power will make the place more comfortable to camp in, but it also makes it easier to seem as if someone’s there overnight.” He patted the burglar alarm panel. “I know you don’t have one of these, but if you put a couple of lights on timers it will make the place look inhabited. You’re welcome to stay here with Martin overnight if you’d like a break from camping out.”
George nodded. “We appreciate it. But won’t it be inconvenient?”
Simon shrugged. “Not as long as you let me into the bathroom first in the morning if I’ve got to be in the office at nine.”
“Thanks,” Patrick said. “We’ll see how things go.”
It surprised Martin that they hadn’t refused outright. Perhaps they’d had sufficient exposure to Simon by now that they trusted him
not to ask awkward questions. It would certainly be pleasant to spend the night with them. It simply hadn’t been practical for him to sleep at the summerhouse, not when he needed to be at work first thing on Monday morning and in a fit state to work. He needed a decent bed and a working bathroom.
At least with the electricity back on they could make a good start on the bathroom. Hot water might have to be from an electric kettle for a while, but it would still be a lot more convenient than having to heat it over a camp stove.
* * * * *
They bought some power tools and then went to shop for the kitchen. The electrical items of immediate interest were a microwave oven and a fridge/freezer.
The solid fuel oven had been serviced the week before and was allegedly in working order, but still needed a delivery of coal and wasn’t ideal in summer. Martin didn’t trust the wiring to the electric oven and wanted a microwave to tide them over. He browsed the relevant section of the shop and found a microwave oven and a small tabletop cooker that he could live with as the only means of cooking for a while.
The existing fridge was old and decrepit; it was easier to scrap it and buy a new, efficient one. He checked if the model he wanted was in stock and fended off attempts to organise delivery for a small extra fee by describing the access track, at which point the shop assistant stopped following her script and organised for the fridge to be loaded into his Land Rover instead.
Then he dragged George and Patrick away from the shop. Patrick’s gleeful exploration of the kitchen equipment on offer didn’t surprise him, but George’s did. “I thought you’d been into department stores before.”
“It’s different somehow when it’s something we have a practical interest in now,” George said. “Are you going to get one of those electric cookers as well?”
“Yes, if the old one isn’t working properly when the electrician checks it, but there’s no point until we get the rewiring done.” They’d need to sit down and plan the new wiring layout, now that the ground floor was something approaching habitable. “We can run the fridge and microwave off extension cords from the new sockets if the fuses blow on the old wiring, but the cooker needs its own circuit.”