I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

by Tymber Dalton

  Trace hooked his arm over Ken’s hip to hold him in place as he mouthed the man’s cock from head to base and back again. Over and over, taking time each pass to give attention to the head again, flick, tease, taste—repeat.

  Why was I scared? Hal hadn’t been lying—the man had a perfect fucking mouth.

  At this rate, maybe I am bi.

  There was a quirky kind of perfection to the thought that the four of them could erase any potential squabbles caused by significant others if they were all together in a quad. Maybe they could play with others just for kinky play, and then come home and the four of them get off with each other.

  The more he thought about that, the hotter it made him, and the more he got into the blowjob. Ken was paying perfect attention and it almost felt like Trace was mouthing his own dick, the man imitated him so perfectly.

  When he finally reached the point of no return, he moaned, trying to go as deep as he could as he swallowed. And apparently he’d gotten Ken closer to the edge than he thought, because the man’s cock erupted in his mouth and for the first time in his life Trace was tasting cum from another guy.

  He didn’t want to move, at first. He lay there, Ken’s wilting cock still in his mouth and his face pressed against Ken’s body. The solid warmth of him, the presence of someone else.

  Not being alone.

  Ken reached down and stroked his hair. “You okay?”

  He gently released Ken’s cock. “Yeah.”

  “We good?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You want to sleep with me tonight, I don’t mind.”

  He didn’t move immediately, thinking about it. “Yeah.”

  Ken turned around and, after a moment of them figuring out their positions, Trace closed his eyes with his head nestled in the crook of Ken’s arm, and his arm draped across the other man’s chest.

  Like that, he crashed into sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ken awakened first in the dim morning light and lay there, smiling at the sleeping man curled against him, facing him. He didn’t know if Trace would feel as good this morning as he had when they’d collapsed last night, but hopefully they could talk it out if he didn’t.

  Steve would get an eyeful—if he showed up, as he frequently did.

  Weren’t many weekend mornings the two of them didn’t start the day with a quick fuck or blowjob, or shower sex. On Saturdays, Ken usually went to Steve, and on Sundays, Steve came to him. Except now having Hal in the mix had changed things around a little.

  Definitely fuck buddies. Friends first, but he knew they could absolutely trust the others to be neg and they didn’t have to worry about wrapping it if they didn’t want to.

  Sure enough, the door slowly opened a few minutes later. Ken held a finger up to his lips and waved Steve in.

  Steve’s eyebrows rose when he realized Ken wasn’t alone in bed, then a smile curved his lips.

  Steve silently closed the bedroom door behind him and walked around the bed to Ken’s side, where he leaned in to whisper in Ken’s ear.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “He was feeling lonely and curious.”

  “Want me to go?”

  “Nah.” He patted the mattress behind him. “Hop in. Bed’s big enough.”

  Steve kissed him deeply, and when he shed his shorts and slid under the sheets, Ken felt the man’s cock pressing against his ass.

  Steve nuzzled the back of his neck. “I guess I could sleep a little longer. Maybe when he wakes up he’ll want to play.”

  “Can’t hurt to ask.”

  But Steve didn’t nap, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He reached around Ken and, working by feel, located Trace’s cock and gripped it. Apparently Trace wasn’t completely asleep, because he softly moaned and started rocking his hips.

  Ken was enjoying the hell out of this. He reached behind him and found Steve’s cock. Maybe there wouldn’t be actual fucking this morning—because Ken wasn’t sure how down Trace would be for that yet—but they could all jerk each other off or blow each other. As his hand closed around Steve’s cock it hardened even more and Steve ground against him.

  Worth it? Ooooh, yeah.

  All four of them dropping all their inhibitions and forming some sort of hybrid little poly quad?

  Absolutely worth it.

  They’d seen each other at their best and worst, seen each other through the best and worst of times.

  Wasn’t it time they quit giving fucks what other people thought and simply enjoyed whatever this was? They’d worked their asses off and reaped the rewards. Time for them to enjoy those rewards and play, dammit.

  Because the only way to outdo what they’d already done was to make sure they were as close as possible.

  The way they were talking last night, they wanted to try to seduce Arden.

  Fine, good. If she could suck his cock, he’d be on-board with that. He liked Arden. She was a sweetheart, and yeah, she was cute. He liked her as a friend and she was damned good at her job.

  She’d be cuter if she had a penis, but whatever. She was adorable.

  Team Them. That’s what mattered.

  The kind of teamwork that got them through college and through the early days where they could barely afford ramen and water and were all sharing a tiny one-bedroom efficiency, where they used the bedroom as the office, because it had a door they could close to shut out noise and focus, and they all slept on air mattresses in the living room/dining room area.

  Those were good days, fun days. Days that had made them who they were now in more than one way.

  Now that they’d made it this far, it’d suck to lose it or fail to move forward. All they had to do was focus and stick together.

  What better way to do that than if they were all fucking each other?

  If Arden became part of that—sure. As long as she didn’t split them up and come between them.

  It’d have to be all-or-nothing. None of this her settling with one of them and the rest having to watch from a distance.

  Their success came from them. This was the magic sauce that had made them multi-millionaires, and Ken wasn’t about to let another chance to make even more money slip through his hands because someone decided they wanted pussy to themselves.

  He’d make sure all of them understood there were more important things than how they got their rocks off. Trace had been the last one, and now that he’d enjoyed himself, hopefully he’d be on-board.

  Ken knew he could retire now and enjoy a quiet life.

  How boring was that?

  He didn’t earn a fucking master’s degree to sit around a pool all day and play shuffleboard with retirees nearly triple his age.

  The four of them had made a plan, a pact.

  A promise.

  He wasn’t going to be the one to go back on that. On any of it.

  * * * *

  Trace finally woke up when he realized there was a hand that was not his own wrapped around his cock and he was actively trying to fuck it.

  He opened his eyes to find Ken smiling at him. “Good morning,” Ken said.

  Steve’s head popped up on the other side of him, and it was then Trace realized it was Steve’s hand stroking his cock.

  He didn’t know what to say.

  Apparently, Ken could sense that. “You want to stop, no hard feelings. You want us to make you feel good this morning, we’re happy to do that, too. Your call. No teasing, no ball-busting, nothing, either way.”

  Did he really want to live in fear? He loved these three men. If someone asked him that, he’d say yes, absolutely he loved them. He didn’t have to be in love with them to enjoy fucking around with them, did he?

  Did he really want Steve to stop what he was doing?

  No.

  Especially not when Steve was doing it so damn well.

  Trace reached down and closed his hand around Ken’s cock.

  Ken drew in a sharp breath. “Not saying I expect you to let me do the

same, but if you wanted to fuck my ass this morning, I’d be down for that.”

  Trace wasn’t sure he could talk and make sense, so he opted to lean in and kiss Ken.

  “Oh, yeah,” Steve softly said. “That’s hot. Can I suck your cock?”

  Trace nodded and rolled onto his back. Steve changed places, climbing between them, kissing Ken and then Trace before holding both their cocks. He took turns, going from Trace’s cock to Ken’s and back again, while Trace and Ken kissed.

  If he’d thought Ken was amazing with his mouth, so was Steve.

  I wonder what Hal’s mouth feels like.

  Trace lost himself in the pleasure of someone beside himself giving his cock attention. Before long, they changed positions again. Ken climbed on top of Steve in a sixty-nine, and Trace had rolled on a condom and was fucking Ken’s ass.

  Oh…fuck!

  Ken and Steve were softly moaning around each other’s cocks, and for a moment Trace wondered if maybe he would enjoy it more if he were the one in Ken’s position and getting plowed?

  Next time.

  His hands settled on Ken’s hips and he long-stroked him, apparently doing the right thing because it made Ken moan even more around Steve’s cock. The more he fucked him, the better it felt, until pretty soon he was throwing him a damn hard fuck and realizing this was the best sexual experience he’d had in the past several years.

  And last night was the second-best.

  Steve got Ken over, and the feeling of Ken’s ass squeezing his cock was too much for Trace. He came in several hard, deep thrusts, filling the condom as he fell still inside Ken. Then Ken got Steve over, and when his moans silenced, Trace heard a slow golf clap from the doorway.

  “Gee, thanks for waking me up, guys,” Hal said. He walked in, naked, his hard cock at attention. “What am I supposed to do with this?” He fisted it, slowly stroking.

  Trace shut down his thinking brain and crooked a finger at him.

  Hal walked over and climbed onto the bed, standing next to Trace. Trace swallowed his cock, and it didn’t take Hal long to dump his load down Trace’s throat.

  Hal dropped to his knees and kissed Trace. “Welcome to the team, buddy,” he said with a smile.

  * * * *

  Steve was able to get untangled first and headed out to make coffee. When Trace emerged from the bedroom, Steve wasn’t sure how the man was going to react, until Trace pulled him in for a kiss.

  “This feels a little…weird,” Trace said.

  Steve smiled. “Which part?”

  “We’re still going to be friends, right?”

  “Yeah. Duh. Friends who fuck. Best of both worlds. You don’t want company? Lock the door at night. Simple as that, no hard feelings.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Doesn’t mean you’re bi or gay, either, if you don’t want to label it that. Means you’re attracted to the three of us as people, and that’s situational. You can pick whatever label you want. Hal’s heteroflexible.”

  “Maybe that’s what I am, too.”

  “Although I will say one thing.”

  “What?”

  He grinned. “I call dibs on you fucking my ass next. Whatever you were doing to Ken, he was sucking me like a goddamned vacuum cleaner.”

  Ken walked into the kitchen. “He was nailing me right in the sweet spot with that gorgeous cock of his.” He leaned in for a kiss from Steve, then hesitated and met Trace’s gaze for a moment.

  Steve silently cheered when Trace kissed him.

  “Now me and Steve have help with the horn-dog,” Ken joked. “Bastard’s been riding us fucking raw the past week.”

  “I can’t help it I like your cocks.” Hal yawned as he walked in. “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re turning into a slut, Hal,” Ken joked. “Woke up the other morning to him riding my goddamned cock.”

  “Didn’t hear you complaining then.” Hal’s hazel gaze sparked with mirth.

  “I wasn’t complaining when he did that to me yesterday morning,” Steve said. “You can always have him wake me up like that.”

  “Or me,” Trace said.

  Steve bit back the teasing line he wanted to toss at his friend, except he knew it’d taken a lot for him to open up—literally and metaphorically—the way he had to take this step with them.

  “We do need some ground rules, though, gentlemen,” Steve said.

  “Such as?” Ken asked.

  “We can’t do this around Arden. This is our home, yes, but it’s also her office. While she’s here, we need to be careful not to do anything to make her uncomfortable.”

  Hal held up his hand.

  Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Uh, she’s kinky. We’re kinky. She knows we are, and she knows we know she is. I don’t see the problem.”

  “Again—this is her office. Our office. I know we put the offer out there to her last night, but I’d be willing to bet come Monday she’s going to be forcing herself to come in.”

  Trace snorted.

  Steve waggled a finger at him. “That’s the kind of teasing I mean that we can’t do. I think we’re all in agreement that, yeah, we’d love to get something going with her. If that’s to happen, it needs to come—do not say it, Hal—from her.”

  Hal grinned but kept his trap shut.

  “He’s right,” Ken said. “Let’s play this smart. During working hours, it’s work. Any discussions we have along those lines with her—unless she initiates them—need to happen after-hours and preferably not in front of her.”

  Trace nodded. “Deal.”

  Hal sighed. “Fine, deal. Fucking boner killers.”

  * * * *

  Later that afternoon, Ken lay sprawled on the outdoor sofa on the lanai and was enjoying an eager blowjob from Hal when his cell phone rang.

  His mother.

  “Shit.” He tapped Hal on the head. “Hold up. It’s Momma.” He sat up as he answered. “Hey, Momma. What’s up?”

  “Hey, baby boy. I’ve got good news for you.”

  “Auntie Kay’s boyfriend finally get hit by a cab?”

  “Nah, and hush, you. Sissy’s engaged. Her boyfriend, Malik, popped the question to her last night.”

  “Which one is he?” Ken was the oldest of seven, and the oldest boy, but Sissy was the next oldest and his oldest sister. He couldn’t say “Cecelia” when he was little after she was born, and “Sissy” stuck.

  “He’s the one you liked. They broke up a few months back because she was being crazy, and she realized she made a mistake. Lucky for her, he took her back.”

  “That’s great. When they getting married?”

  “In two months. Nothing big.”

  If he remembered correctly, Malik was a grad student at NYU, and broke-ass, but a good guy, a hard worker who hustled. “Look, you get her what she wants for the cake and food, I’ll pay for that. And the rehearsal dinner.” One of their aunties worked for a place that sold formal gowns and could always get nice ones at cost, so their family never had to worry about that.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. I paid for Kimayah’s cake and food and rehearsal dinner. Now, just like you did with her, don’t let her be coming up with no 24k gold-plated shit or something crazy, but make sure she’s got a nice cake and we have decent food. Cash bar, though, unless his parents want to pay for that. Don’t need the cousins guzzling down gallons of booze on our dime.”

  It sounded like she was crying. “Baby boy, I love you so much. You know how proud I am of you?”

  One of the things he’d done after cashing out was to pay off Momma’s house and get repairs done to it, as well as upgrades like the furnace and kitchen. He took care of his family, and in return, she and his siblings had closed ranks around him when some of their family thought they could start hitting him up for money every time he turned around.

  Another reason he’d wanted to get out of the city and away from them.

  When he got off the phone, he realized he had two problems. One, his boner was now shot.

  Two…

  “What’s wrong?” Hal asked.

  “I’ve gotta come up with a beard for my sister’s wedding.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Monday morning, Arden stood under the pole barn and glared at the rain.

  Fudgeballs.

  This would be a miserable dang ride.

  Not just because she didn’t want to face the guys again right now. Sure, she knew logically it was fine, but the fact that they’d seen her like that…

  Even now, it made her cheeks flame, and not the ones she sat upon.

  It didn’t have to make sense that she’d fantasized plenty of times already about them doing exactly what it turned out they liked to do.

  They were her bosses.

  Resigned, she donned her rain gear. For good measure, she wrapped her backpack holding her computer and spare clothes in a plastic garbage bag before stowing it in the trunk, and tucked another into one of the side cases. Maybe she could get the guys to let her into the garage and she could take her rain gear off there, or out on the lanai. She didn’t want to traipse through their house wearing it.

  With her rain gear on and her bag safely stowed, she climbed on the bike and headed out to work. The commute was, as she’d predicted, gross. She left plenty of extra room between her and cars, and rode even more defensively than she usually did. Not just rainy, but blustery winds hitting her from different directions practically exhausted her as she struggled to keep the bike upright when slowing down for or taking off from stops.

  This wasn’t just a one-and-done summer afternoon storm. It felt like one of those weather fronts that made riding miserable and no one in their right mind, or who didn’t have a car, would be out riding in it.

  Okay, maybe I should prioritize getting a car.

  Heck, even a cheap old beater would be better than this. The men had been grumbling more and more about her riding a motorcycle, whenever it rained, or when they saw on the news that a motorcyclist had been injured or killed.

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