rivers_bend

So tabularassa posted this picture:


and this happened. Totally filthy, utterly lacking in anything like a plot, threesome comment-fic porn with facial. Adam/Tommy/Tom. 970 words. Not even a tiny bit safe for work. (and as usual, I don't know the people whose personas are mentioned here and neither believe nor mean to imply this actually happened.)






Tommy doesn't even have any idea how the fuck he got here, but he doesn't give a shit, because his dick is getting sucked by this guy with the most fucking sinful lips on earth while Adam's cock rocks in and out of Tommy's ass, so god damn slick and smooth after Adam held him, wrists pinned, face against the wall, sucking that spot on his neck while Tom—pretty-lips Tom—licked and fingered him open. The boy clearly likes to be on his knees as much as Tommy does. Tommy can respect that.

The look on Tom's face now, hungry, eager, not even pretending to be coy, while Adam's slow, steady thrusts feed Tommy's cock down his throat, god Tommy could watch that all day. Tommy's got his hands on Tom's shoulders, fingers digging into the ink on his skin, holding on for dear life, because Adam wanted to do this standing up, and Tommy's only human. Adam's got one hand in Tom's hair, holding him still to take the face fucking he's giving him, the other on Tommy's hip, holding him steady, not letting him set the pace. Toppy bastard, but Tommy loves it and Adam knows he loves it, so it's all good.

Tommy can feel Adam's chin digging in above his collar bone, watching those lips around Tommy's cock no doubt, because who the hell wouldn't want to see that? Except Tommy can't, because it will all be over way too quickly if he does, so he tips his head back against Adam's shoulder, nose tucked in against Adam's neck, taking deep breaths of that sex-sweat-cologne smell that makes Tommy's dick hard and his knees weak even when he's not getting fucked and sucked at the same time. It's not actually any more helpful than watching Tom's mouth, but Tommy can't stop.

He lets go his grip on Tom with one hand so he can reach back and touch Adam, feel the flex of his ass, reach up and touch his face, his hair, not coordinated enough to send any kind of message with his fingers other than, I’m here, I feel you. Adam makes a high note in the back of his throat, whispers, "Fuck, Tommy, fuck, look at his mouth, watch how he just fucking takes your dick. Look at him," and Tommy does what he's told, because it's Adam, and Tommy's hardwired that way.

And it's even more filthy-gorgeous-hot than when Tommy looked away. Tom's mouth redder, his hair stuck with sweat to his forehead, tears clumping his lower lashes where he didn't swallow past his gag reflex in time, but a smile in his eyes when he sees Tommy looking that says, Yeah, your boy is hot, lucky bastard.

Tommy is lucky, he knows that for sure.

"Adam, fuck," Tommy moans, feeling like he's being turned inside out, his ass so fucking full and his cock sliding in and out of that wet heat, Adam plastered to his back, holding him up. Tom puts a hand on his stomach and Tommy feels Adam's hand slide over so their fingers are touching. Like that's some kind of code between them, Tom slides off Tommy's cock for a moment, sucking in air, and then he's back, throat open so Adam can drive forward hard, the fast, short jabs he needs to come.

Though Tommy hasn't even come yet himself it feels like Adam's fucked him legless, but there's no chance to recover. Adam's still shuddering against Tommy's back when he pulls Tommy out of Tom's mouth and starts jerking him, perfect strokes, aiming Tommy's dick at Tom's face.

Tom's moaning, pulling his own dick hard and fast, staring at them still, licking his lips, pouting his mouth open, waiting for Tommy's load. The noise Tommy's making, he doesn't even know, he doesn't sound human, and Adam lets go of Tom's head and covers Tommy's mouth with his palm. And that's the final straw, Adam holding him like that, Tommy's head pinned to his shoulder, taking the noises Tommy makes and making them his, and that doesn't even make sense, but Tommy could not care less because he's shooting, finally, orgasm driving up from his knees, rolling down from his chest, making him shake and bite Adam's hand.

Somehow Tommy's still standing—maybe it's Adam's arms around his waist and his thighs under Tommy's ass—when he hears Tom say, "Hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," and realizes that the cooling wet on his ankles is probably Tom's jizz.

"Right?" Adam says, grin obvious in his voice.

"Hell of a party," Tom adds, rising slowly from his knees, hand on Tommy's thigh then his ribs like he's still unsteady himself.

"And the sex was good too," Adam says.

Tommy doesn't join in the conversation because he still feels like his nervous system has gone on vacation without him.

"Don't suppose you'd let a guy borrow your shower? I don't have a room here, and I'm not sure how thrilled my agent would be if I went back downstairs like this."

"I think we can do that," Adam answers.

"Bed," Tommy finally manages.

"Looks like we're going to bed." The grin is still clear in Adam's voice. "Feel free to come say goodbye before you leave."

Adam pretty much carries Tommy to the bed, cleaning him up with wet wipes so he won't wake up hopelessly sticky, though he misses the spots on Tommy's shin. Tommy manages a thank you, and stays awake long enough to hear the shower turn on, but then he's gone.

Murmured conversation drags him back toward the surface just in time for hot, wet lips—not Adam's—to cover his.

"Thanks for sharing," Tom whispers.

"My pleasure," Tommy replies.

He's pretty sure he's never said anything truer in his life.