Chapter Five

Sugar Baby

“Absolutely,” Pascal muttered, a glint in his eye and a telltale bulge in his boxers.

I helped them, and soon the bed was free of clutter. Pascal took my hand and pulled me roughly so I landed hard on my back. Jericho helped him pull my clothes off as I pretended to protest, but soon I became lost in the sensation of two tongues, two mouths and four hands as Jericho and Pascal worked together in a delightfully friendly assault.

I gazed up at Jericho. He held my wrists together over my head while Pascal winked and murmured, “C’mere, sugar baby. Let Daddy take care of you,” as he pulled my shorts down and took my cock into his mouth, slurping noisily as he gave me a Christmas blowjob I would definitely remember.

Afterward, when we’d all taken care of each other in quick but effective ways, we convened around the tree with our mugs of hot coffee and our treats, laughing, slinging barbs and enjoying being together on this special day.

“Careful, Scott. Don’t eat too many of those Sugar Babies or you’ll wind up in the doctor’s office on Boxing Day,” Jericho warned with a gleam in his eyes.

I poured another handful and popped them into my mouth. “I’m counting on it.”

Pascal laughed and rubbed his hands together. “Time for unwrapping gifts!”

We proceeded slowly, taking turns, admiring each selection and thanking the person who had given it. I came away with a coffee mug that said ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’ on one side and ‘Helps the Medicine Go Down’ on the other, a set of mixing bowls that I had mentioned I needed—with promises I would bake something for us soon—a bottle of Absolut Vodka and a set of good quality headphones.

“You two are amazing. Thank you,” I said, truly touched.

I fished the last gift out from under the tree.

“Here,” I said, passing it to Jericho. “It’s something you can both enjoy.”

“A double-ended dildo?” Pascal guessed, cracking up.

“Jesus. How did you possibly guess that?” I said, stone-faced.

His eyes went wide, and it was my turn to crack up. “No, it’s not a double-ended dildo. I would have needed a much larger box. But—” I smirked. “Good idea for Easter.”

“Oh my God, look at the tag!” Pascal said, covering his mouth with his hand as he saw the dog tag engraved with their names. “It was so far under the tree I never saw it!”

He touched it with the tip of his finger and exchanged an amazed glance with Jericho. They unwrapped the gift carefully, Pascal holding on to the metal tag. When they opened the box and saw that it was mostly empty except for the gift card taped to the bottom, they looked up.

“Clever,” Jericho said.

“Nice,” Pascal commented. “Sweet Basil. Is that the little place on Bank Street?”

“At Heron, yeah. It’s small but the food is incredible. Best Thai in Ottawa.”

“Thank you!” Jericho said, leaning over to give me a kiss. Pascal followed.

“You’re so welcome.” I beamed.

We lazed around after the gift-opening, until Jericho stood and moved toward the door. “Well, I’m gonna give the driveway a going-over. Looks like we got at least a couple of more inches last night.”

“That’s what he said,” Pascal quipped, breaking into hilarious laughter at his own joke.

“Nice,” I said. “I’ll help.”

“Me too,” Pascal added. “Won’t take long with all three of us putting our hands in.”

“That’s what they said,” Jericho muttered with a grin.

“Good Lord. The humor. How did I ever survive my past Christmases?”

“I have no idea,” Pascal muttered, kissing me on the cheek as he reached around me to grab his coat.

We emerged into the bright sunlight of Christmas morning, and Jericho handed me a shovel from a spot by the garage where three of them were leaned against the stuccoed wall. “Here you go.”

“Thanks. How come you have so many?”

He grinned. “I keep buying them because I see one that looks like it might do a slightly better job. But they all work about the same.”

“What we really need is a snow blower,” Pascal commented, scraping his red shovel along the pavement and hefting the snow to the side.

Jericho scoffed. “But shoveling is such a great workout. Pushing a snow blower is the easy way out.”

Pascal rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind taking the easy way out a few times.”

We got to work. Across the road, a door slammed and three children of various ages, dressed in snow gear with brightly colored hats and scarves, poured onto the snow-covered lawn.

“Hi, Pascal! Hi, Jericho!” a teenager in a bright blue jacket yelled over. “Merry Christmas!”

Pascal paused his shoveling for a moment. “Merry Christmas! You guys gonna make a snowman? Seems like it’s getting hard to shovel, so it should be perfect for rolling.”

“Awesome! Yeah, we will.”

“Did you open all your presents?”

“Yeah, ages ago. We were up at six thirty!”

“Nice!”

Jericho and I smiled at the kids, who immediately started rolling snow to make a snowman at Pascal’s suggestion.

“Nice neighbors,” I commented.

“Yeah. They’re great kids. Mom’s on her own and works really hard to look after them. We try to help out when we can.”

I regarded Pascal and Jericho warmly. “That’s so nice.”

Jericho shrugged. “Both of us were raised by single moms, so we understand the struggle. The oldest kid, Jason—the one in the blue—he’s trans,” Jericho said. “Carrie was so lost going through all that. She supported Jason a hundred percent, but she didn’t really know how to handle a lot of it. So, we helped her figure things out and got to know the family. The dad is supportive, too. He has joint custody. Those kids are lucky.”

I stopped shoveling to watch the three children playing in the soft snow. “That’s amazing. You don’t hear the good stories so often.”

“True,” Pascal said. “Jason is Jason, and I can’t even imagine him as anyone different. Carrie said he’s blossomed since he came out and they started using his new name.”

“How old is he?”

“Fifteen. I know they were talking about blockers, but I think it’s too late for that.” Jericho shrugged. “And Carrie is reluctant to put him on T at this age. But they’re discussing it with his therapist, and it will probably be up to Jason in the end. She’s pretty amazing at letting him guide the process.”

I watched as Jason helped his younger siblings push the large ball of snow that would make the base for the snowman.

By the time we’d cleared our driveway, the kids were rolling snow into another big ball for the middle of their snowman.

“Looking good, guys,” Jericho commented, heading over with his shovel to start on Carrie’s driveway. Pascal and I followed.

The kids threw me curious glances, so I smiled and waved.

“Who are you?” A little girl of about six asked as she squinted into the sun. She raised a mitten-covered hand to block it so she could see me better.

“Scott. Who are you?” I grinned.

“Madison. That’s my brother, Jason, and my other brother, Callum.”

I waved at the other kids. “Nice snowman.”

Jason laughed. “Technically, only half a snowman. We’re working on it.”

The door to their house opened, and a woman in a red sweater, with dirty-blonde hair, peered out. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Carrie!” Pascal said.

“Merry Christmas,” Jericho and I echoed.

“You don’t have to spend Christmas morning shoveling my driveway, Pascal. You guys do so much for us already.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem. It’s such a nice day. Be a shame to waste it indoors.”

“Fine,” she said, folding her arms to stay warm. “But when you’re done, come on inside. We have cookies, and I’ll make hot chocolate for everyone.”

“Sure!” He glanced at Jericho and me. We nodded in agreement. Who can say no to cookies and hot chocolate?

We finished shoveling while the kids worked on the snowman. When we were done, we took the shovels back to Jericho and Pascal’s place, then returned to help put the finishing touches on the snowman.

“There. How’s that?” Pascal said, setting the carrot he’d gotten from Carrie into the snowman’s face to make its nose.

“Thanks. I’m going to use some raisins for his mouth,” Jason said, opening a small Tupperware container.

“I wanna do it! Please, Jason! I wanna make the mouth,” his younger brother said.

Jason laughed and passed him the container. “Sure.”

“I got a hat for him,” Madison said, coming out of the house with a ratty looking yellow scarf and hat. “I don’t like these anymore, so mom said we could use them for the snowman.”

“Cool,” Jason said, glancing at us as his siblings took over. He eyed me curiously and extended his hand. “I’m Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason,” I said. “I’m Scott.”

“He’s a new friend of ours,” Jericho said. “He slept over so we could have Christmas morning together.”

Jason grinned, with an impish gleam in his eye. “Hmm. You should call him your boyfriend, if that’s what he is.”

Jericho and Pascal glanced at each other, while I looked at them. “Is that what I am?” I asked innocently.

They laughed and both leaned in to kiss me on opposite cheeks. Then they regarded Jason. “Fine. He’s our new boyfriend. Happy now?”

Jason grinned wide and nodded. “Yeah. He seems cool.”

I laughed.

“He’s a teacher,” Pascal offered.

Jason’s face fell. “Oh. Not so cool, then.”

“Har-har,” Pascal said. “College level, not high-school.”

“Oh. Well, that’s marginally better…maybe.”

I stared at this precocious teenager who spoke better than I had at his age, while the younger kids shouted for our attention.

“He’s done!”

“Our snowman is finished!”

Jason turned to regard the completed piece of art. “That’s amazing! Good job, guys! Now, who wants cookies?”

“Me!” Callum shouted.

“Me!” Madison said.

“Me, too!” Pascal yelled, following the kids to the door as they laughed with glee.

Jericho and I exchanged a glance, and he flourished his arm. “After you, Scott.”

“Why, thank you.”

We knocked the snow off our boots before stepping inside. The entryway was chaotic. Boots and coats and scarves lay everywhere.

“Never mind the mess, and just find a dry spot for your coats, gentlemen,” Carrie said from the kitchen as she stirred something in a pot.

We sorted ourselves out and joined Pascal and the kids in the cozy living area, where a fire crackled on the hearth and a decorated tree stood amid discarded wrapping and various scattered items.

“Look! I got a Lego Friends kit!” Madison said, showing us a box with a brightly-colored Lego café on the front.

“Great,” Jericho said. “I used to love building with Lego bricks.”

“Me too,” I said. It had been years since I’d thought about my childhood. I had spent a lot of time holed up inside, making things out of Lego and playing board games with my siblings. I remembered Christmases like this, with the early mornings and the messy house, the smells of cooking and spices everywhere. Callum had already forgotten us and was sitting by the tree leafing through a thick book about trains.

“Who’s your friend, Jericho?” Carrie asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

Jericho blushed and beckoned me to the kitchen island, where Carrie was stirring melted chocolate into hot milk. Pascal had crouched beside Callum to look at his book, but he glanced up at me and winked.

“This is Scott Vernier,” he said, “Scott, this is our friend, Carrie.”

She smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying Christmas morning.”

“I am. Thanks.”

She waggled her eyebrows at Jericho. “Seems like you wouldn’t have just anyone sleep over on the holidays, Jericho. What’s the story?”

I guessed Jason got his forthrightness from his mom.

“Pascal and I met Scott at a Halloween party in October. We’ve become good friends.”

Carrie smirked and raised her eyebrow.

Jericho sighed. “Very good friends.” He glanced at me, and I blushed.

“Hmm. I see,” Carrie said. “What are your plans for supper?”

“Pizza,” Jericho said. “We’re going to hang out at home.”

Her gaze moved from Jericho to me, then to Pascal. “I mean, you could come here for supper. There’s going to be a ton of food,” Carrie said, smiling warmly.

“Thank you, Carrie, that’s such a lovely offer, but we’re good with our plans. A low-key Christmas is exactly what the doctor ordered this year.”

I met his gaze and tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush.

Pascal commented from his spot on the floor. “Thank you, Carrie. You’re a queen.”

Carrie glanced around her messy kitchen and laughed. “Queen of what, Pascal? The Queen of Chaos?” She grinned and began to ladle the hot chocolate into mugs. “Ooh, I like that. Grab a mug, guys. And help yourself to the cookies.” She gestured to a three-tiered stand that held iced and decorated sugar cookies and gingerbread men. “Kiddos, the hot chocolate’s ready.”

The kids gathered with us at the counter, and we sipped hot chocolate, chatted with Carrie and replied to questions from the kids.

“Are you allowed two boyfriends?” Madison asked Jericho, regarding me skeptically.

Jericho shrugged. “Sure.”

“Really?” She looked to her mom for confirmation.

Carrie laughed. “I guess you can have as many boyfriends as you can handle, as long as they know they have to share you.”

Madison frowned. “Hmm. I don’t think I could handle more than one.”

The three of us broke into laughter.

“Fair. It can get a bit busy. But we get along so well, it works out.”

She didn’t seem convinced.

Jason cleared his throat. “When I move out, I’m gonna buy a big house in Manotick, on the river. Maybe I’ll have two girlfriends and two boyfriends.”

Carrie gave him a look like he’d lost his mind. “Do you know how much those houses cost?”

Jason shrugged. “Gotta have enough room for everyone.”

“Well, you’d better get a good job, I guess—or find partners with good jobs.”

“Sure.”

“Do you plan to go to college, Jason?” I asked.

“Uh, duh. Yeah. Can’t go very far without post-secondary.”

“What are you thinking of studying?”

“I’m not sure. Probably sociology or psychology.”

I nodded. “I teach anthropology. That’s in the same wheelhouse.”

“Cool,” he said, sipping his hot chocolate. “Anyway, I still have a couple of years of high school. Who knows? I might do something completely different.”

“I don’t care what you kids study in college, as long as you go,” Carrie said firmly.

“Yeah, Mom, we know. Dad says the same thing.”

“Good.” She glanced at us. “We may not be together, but George and I are on the same page about a lot of things…which helps.”

We ate a few more cookies, finished our hot chocolate and took our leave. It had been a pleasant interlude to get some exercise in the fresh air and hang out with Carrie and her kids, but I was relieved when Jericho suggested we head back across the road.

“It was great meeting you, Scott,” Carrie said. “Hope to see more of you in the future.”

“Thanks, Carrie.” I glanced at Jericho and Pascal. “If I can keep from annoying the hell out of these two, then you will.”

Jericho laughed. “So far, so good. He’s only a tiny bit annoying.” He put his index finger and thumb about a half an inch apart.

As we trudged across the street to Jericho and Pascal’s yard and went inside, I side-eyed Jericho as I pulled off my winter gear.

“Exactly what the doctor ordered, huh?”

He grinned and nodded. “Yeah. That’s why we have a reservation for a fancy dinner out tomorrow instead of today.”

“We do?”

“Yes. Didn’t Pascal tell you?”

“Oops,” Pascal said, moving into the living room and plopping onto the couch. He yawned. “I think I might have to go back to bed. We were up pretty early this morning, and all that snow shoveling and socializing wore me out.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I said.

Jericho gestured between the two of us. “You mean, back to bed for sleeping, right?”

“For sleeping,” Pascal said firmly. “Keep your shenanigans under control, Dr. Griffin. Or Professor Griffin. Lock those personas down for a couple of hours, all right?”

Jericho laughed. “All right. But after we enjoy our low-key Christmas dinner, all bets are off. I want to make this Christmas Day epic.”

Pascal pushed himself up from the couch and approached Jericho, taking his face between his palms and kissing him softly. “I have no doubt you will. Which is even more reason to get a couple extra hours of sleep right now.”

 

* * * *

 

When I woke, it was to Pascal’s deep snores and grunts. He lay sprawled beside me with his mouth open and the familiar sound coming from his nose and throat. I was able to sleep through it most of the time, and, well, he did look adorable now that I was awake. There was no sign of Jericho, but sounds of drawers opening and shutting came from the kitchen and the smell of bacon drifted into the room.

I glanced at the digital clock on the dresser. Two-twenty. It seemed like brunch time. I salivated with hunger as I pushed gently at Pascal’s bare shoulder.

“Hey, wake up. Time for Christmas Day brunch, baby.”

Pascal groaned as his eyelids flicked open. “Oh, fuck. Was having the most amazing dream,” he said, taking my forearm and pulling me close.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dressed you as a pup and fucked you.”

I grinned, imagining it. I mean, I wasn’t exactly not into it. “Oh?”

He nodded, an evil glint in his eye.

“Were you dressed as Digger?”

He frowned. “Surprisingly, no.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, hmm.” He let go of my arm and sniffed the air. “I smell bacon.”

“Me too.”

Jericho had laid out plates and utensils on the kitchen table. Pascal and I had pulled on sweatpants and T-shirts. Jericho was in pajama pants and a tank, wearing his striped apron.

“Good morning…again. Well, it’s afternoon, now.”

Pascal leaned in and kissed Jericho while he stood at the stove, pushing bacon around with a fork.

I snagged a piece of bacon from the pan.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Duh,” I said as I carefully bit the end off. “I can take it.”

Pascal and Jericho laughed.

“Oh, I know you can,” Jericho commented. “But sit down. I’ll put this on a plate, then I’m going to make a big feed of scrambled eggs, unless anyone wants an omelet?”

“Scrambled is fine with me,” Pascal said, pulling out a chair and parking his ass.

I sat in the chair next to his.

As soon as my bottom hit the seat, the doorbell rang. We exchanged confused glances. I don’t think any of us were expecting visitors. Then again, it was Christmas Day.

“I’ll go,” Pascal said. Jericho had just sat and I was digging into my eggs.

We heard voices, then Pascal was back with two familiar-looking men carrying a gift basket festooned with red ribbon.

Duke boomed, “Merry Christmas, boys!” while Julius gave me a small wave and a wide smile.

I dropped my fork and stood. “Merry Christmas!” I was thrilled to see them.

“So sorry to barge in without letting you know we were coming,” Julius apologized, moving in for a hug and a cheek kiss. Pascal took the gift basket and placed it on the counter, oohing and aahing over what he could see of the contents. Duke pulled me into an enthusiastic embrace.

“Thanks, man. It’s great to see you both.”

He shrugged. “We can’t stay long. We’re heading to Montreal for supper with Julius’ family.”

“No worries. We’re so glad you stopped by!”

“Enjoying yourself in your delicious man sandwich?” Duke asked me, gesturing at Pascal and Jericho while Julius rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Oh yes. Most definitely.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re well taken care of,” Duke said, nodding at my two lovers.

“Oh yes. We’re definitely looking after him. I’m making sure Scott visits the doctor regularly…for his health.” Pascal said, nodding at Jericho and waggling his eyebrows.

“Good Lord,” Julius muttered, blushing, as Duke laughed loudly.

“Oh, I’m certain of that,” Duke commented. “Thank goodness we have such thorough and unique medical professionals at our disposal.”

Jericho bowed and laughed.

“Anyway, so good to see you. We’ll let you get back to brunch. Enjoy the chocolates and cookies and wine.”

“Thanks, Duke. That’s so thoughtful,” I said, kissing him on the cheek again. He was my best friend, and I loved him to death. If not for him, I’d never have met Jericho and Pascal. I was sorry I hadn’t gotten him anything.

“Never mind. I wanted to see you and treat you all to some gourmet treats,” he said.

“Merry Christmas!” Jericho and Pascal said as I walked them back to the door.

While they were putting on their boots, the doorbell rang again.

I opened it to see Jason standing there with a Tupperware container and a hesitant smile.

“Mom wanted me to bring over some Christmas goodies for you guys.”

“Thanks, Jason. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” he said, turning and hopping off the step. The other kids waved at me from across the street. I held up the container and gave them a grin and a thumbs up before closing the door.

“Wow, you are getting all the love this year,” Julius said, grinning.

“Thanks to Duke. Yeah.”

“I only got you to the bar. You did the rest,” Duke smiled. “Merry Christmas, Scott.”

“Merry Christmas, Duke.”

After they were gone, I stood in the living room and watched the kids across the street throwing snowballs at each other and shrieking with glee.

“Scott? Your eggs are getting cold,” Pascal shouted from the kitchen.

“And you should see the amount of chocolate in this basket,” Jericho added. “We’ll have to divvy it up this afternoon.”

After brunch, we showered and lazed around, playing video games, reading and noshing on Christmas cookies. We ordered two large pizzas around five thirty and tipped the young guy who delivered them a hundred bucks.

He blinked in surprise. “Are you kidding me? A hundred dollars?”

“Merry Christmas,” Jericho said.

“Thank you so much! And Merry Christmas!”

Jericho shut the door and turned, noticing us watching. “What?”

“You are a stand-up guy, Jericho Griffin,” I said.

He shrugged. “I can’t imagine having to deliver pizzas on Christmas Day. So, I want to make it worth his while.”

We grabbed the pizzas from him, kissing him on opposite cheeks, and took them into the kitchen. After we’d eaten and had a chance to digest, Jericho asked if we wanted to do a scene.

“Is the Pope Catholic?” Pascal said.

“Don’t bring the Pope into this,” I said, shuddering.

“Oh, sorry.” He turned back to Jericho, “I meant, sure!”

Jericho smiled. “Who do you want? The medical professional or the teacher?”

Pascal frowned. “Hmm.”

“How to decide…?” I murmured.

“Well, maybe I can combine the two somehow,” Jericho said.

We gazed at him with some confusion, but Pascal raised his hand.

“Yes?” Jericho asked.

“Sir? I sucked Mr. Vernier off in the school bathroom again. I can’t seem to keep from doing that.”

Jericho gazed at us with a sudden sternness, and I knew the game was on.

“Honestly, boys. My bedroom, now.”

“Your bedroom, Sir?” I said, placing my hand on my heart as if I were truly shocked.

“Yes. I’m not playing games anymore. I need to show you both how real adults behave.”

Pascal and I made our way to the bedroom in the back. The curtains were still drawn, but the room was bright with the sunlight that shone through the breaks in the fabric.

“Strip and bend over the edge of the bed. Both of you, side-by-side.”

I glanced at Pascal, and suddenly, we knew we were about to get our real Christmas gift.

“Keep your hands together or I’ll tie them that way.”

“Yes, Sir,” we mumbled, glancing at each other with anticipation. I threaded my fingers together and waited.

“As I’ve said before, we believe in corporal punishment at this institution and the two of you could use some strict discipline.”

He ran his hand along my ass and gave it a hard swat, making me gasp. He did the same to Pascal.

“But first, have both of you had your required physical exams?”

A sigh slipped out of me as I said, “No, Sir.”

Pascal said nothing.

“Mr. Olejatz? Have you had your required physical?”

“No, Sir.”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t have a medical degree, but luckily, the school physician has given me the okay to conduct a basic physical exam on any students who missed the requirement upon entry.”

We said nothing.

“Stand up. Hands behind your back.”

We quickly obeyed and stood side-by-side before him. He moved around the room, gathering some lengths of soft rope, which he used to tie our hands behind us.

“Um, rope, sir?” Pascal commented.

“You’ve already proved you can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Spread your legs.”

We did so, side-eyeing each other, our cocks in similar states of tumescence.

Jericho clicked his tongue. “Horny fuckers. Imagine getting hard from the idea of a physical exam,” he said disdainfully. “Nobody better come while I’m examining you or you’ll be getting twice as many swats with my belt.”

I cleared my throat. “Yes, Sir.”

Jericho opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled out a container of the blue rubber gloves he liked to use for his medical role-play. He pulled one on and moved in close to Pascal, glaring at him until Pascal lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Mr. Vernier, look straight ahead or at the floor, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, focusing on the wall ahead of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jericho cup Pascal’s testicles in his gloved hand.

Pascal uttered a shaky breath as Jericho roughly prodded and rolled his balls.

“Have you noticed any lumps or painful areas?” he asked.

“No, Sir,” Pascal replied, his voice shaky. I glanced down briefly to see his cock fully erect.

Jericho chuckled. “God, you kids get hard at anything don’t you? I bet if I wrapped my hand around your dick, you’d shoot. No self-control.”

He must have taken Pascal’s cock in hand, because Pascal uttered a low groan and shifted on his feet.

Pascal struggled to stay still as Jericho added lube to his gloved hand and proceeded to give him a slow hand job, muttering about young men and their priapic desires the whole time. Pascal became more and more visibly aroused as this went on.

“Sir… Sir,” he said, “I’m getting close, Sir. If you keep doing that—”

“If I keep doing this?” Jericho murmured, speeding his hand.

“Oh! Sir. Oh God! I can’t— I’m gonna come,” Pascal gasped.

But Jericho released him suddenly and stepped back. Pascal whimpered at the loss, his cock standing futile and red against his belly.

“No, you’re not.” He watched Pascal squirm with frustration then settle down from being right on the edge of orgasm but thwarted. He dripped more lube onto Pascal’s cock and took him in hand again.

Pascal brightened, groaning as Jericho fisted his large, erect penis. But I saw the mischievous glint in Jericho’s eye as he brought Pascal to the edge again. As soon as Pascal warned him he was about to come, he let go.

Pascal emitted a growl of annoyance and shook his head. “Bastard!”

Jericho stepped into Pascal’s space again. “I beg your pardon? What did you say to me?”

Pascal whined with frustration and jerked his hips, trying to gain some kind of contact with Jericho, but Jericho wouldn’t have it.

“Stay still. Suffer your punishment, you priapic oaf.”

Oooh. Nasty.

I must have made a noise because Jericho turned to me.

“Quiet. Now it’s your turn.”

Oh, hell yes.

I stood there, keeping my gaze on the wall, while Jericho moved in close and cupped my testicles.

“You like watching your friend suffer? You like watching me tease him then leave him hanging?”

I didn’t know if he really wanted me to answer, so I stayed quiet.

“You think you’d like me to do that to you?”

I whimpered and unconsciously jerked my hips. He tightened his hand on my balls.

“Behave.”

“Yes, Sir. I will. I promise.”

“Now, Mr. Olejatz, I want you to watch me tease your friend here like I teased you. I know that will get you even more excited, but you’ll have to control yourself.”

“Yes, Sir,” Pascal whimpered.

Then he wrapped his lubed and gloved hand around my hard cock and jerked me in the same slow rhythm he’d used on Pascal. It was Heaven. I felt awesomely abused.

Jericho slowly stroked me, whispering filthy, abusive things in my ear as he did so. I shuddered and made soft noises as he got me closer and closer.

“Sir,” I said between clenched teeth, “I’m close.”

“Are you?” He made a disdainful sound. “That didn’t take long.”

He quickened his rhythm, and I gasped, thrusting into his grip.

“You gonna shoot, Mr. Vernier? You gonna come?”

I was so close, and I figured maybe he’d be nice to me and let me. But just as I got right to the brink of it, he let go and backed away.

I hung there for a moment and almost went over the edge, but there wasn’t quite enough sensation and I lost it. The frustration hit me like a song that got cut-off right at the emotional high point…but worse.

“Oh, Sir,” I whined, licking my lips. “Oh, please.”

“Hmm,” he said, like he was considering being a little more generous. Then his hand was back around my dick, slowly bringing me to the brink one more time. And, like before, right as I got there and thought I was going over, he took his hand away.

I made a desperate sound as my cock bobbed in the air, throbbing and tingling but not satisfied at all.

Jericho went back and forth between us, edging us until our bodies were coated with a sheen of sweat, always letting go before we got past the point of no return. If Jericho hadn’t bound my hands, I wouldn’t have been able to resist finishing myself off.

After what seemed like forever, Jericho backed away from us both and told us to lean over the edge of the bed again.

“But if I catch either of you humping the mattress, I’ll lay ten more strikes each on your pretty behinds. Neither of you are allowed to come.”

“Yes, Sir,” we said morosely.

The lube bottle clicked open once more, and after a moment, Jericho pushed his finger between my cheeks and pressed my hole. As it breached me, I groaned and rubbed my face on the coverlet.

He sank it deep, turned it and found my prostate.

“Oh…fuck!” I swore, feeling my cock surge with pre-cum. “Ah.”

It was torture to not rub against the mattress, but somehow, I refrained.

Then his finger was gone, and I heard Pascal groan as, presumably, the same treatment was accorded to him. Once more, Jericho went back and forth between us, teasing us and driving us insane with desire and the need to orgasm.

“I’m just checking the plumbing back here. Everything seems fine.”

Yeah, right.

I heard him stand and move away from us finally and peel off the glove, tossing it into the waste basket.

What now? Then I remembered the belt.

Sure enough, the cool leather of Jericho’s belt pressed against my bare behind, and I risked a glance. Jericho’s expression was one of satisfaction and intense desire as he played the leather across our skin before getting down to business.

“Count for Mr. Vernier,” he told Pascal as the folded belt came down on me, the slice of pain taking me by surprise but causing a surge of pleasure alongside it.

“One,” Pascal said. “Two.”

I fell into a haze of pain and arousal as Jericho continued, the sharp bite of the thick leather leaving throbs of heat all over my rear and causing currents of pleasure in my cock.

He gave me six, then gave Pascal six, while I counted.

Pascal made more noise than I did.

Finally, Jericho threw the belt to the floor and told us to turn over but put our bound wrists above our heads. We did, and he spent the next long while edging us once more, with the same slow jerking of our cocks until we’d almost gotten there, then backing off while we groaned and whined with frustration.

Finally, even he’d had enough.

“My hand is fucking sore,” he said, pushing his pants down and waving his erection at us. “Kneel in front of me. Take turns. The one that gets me off gets to come first after. But you switch when I say. Got it?”

I practically salivated with eagerness as I knelt and stared at Jericho’s erection.

“Pascal goes first,” he said.

The disappointment I felt changed quickly to appreciation for the sight of Pascal deep-throating Jericho’s substantial cock. I watched with fascination, hoping it wouldn’t be over too quickly. It was only fair that I had a chance.

“Switch,” Jericho growled as he grabbed Pascal’s hair and pulled out of his mouth.

Pascal gave me some room, and I went to town, slavering on Jericho’s cock like it was prime rib. I mean, it was prime rib. That cut was the tenderest fucking slab of gourmet meat I’d ever had. It was an honor to choke on it.

Jericho seemed now to be edging himself, because every time he almost came he switched the sucker out and the other took over. His eyes got glassy, and his sounds more random until, finally, when he got close again, he grabbed my hair and held my face still while he fucked my mouth and came hard, filling my throat with his release as I choked and coughed. He pulled out, and Pascal was there, ready to take his dick in his mouth and get whatever was left.

“Fuck. You guys are killing me,” I muttered, once I’d had a chance to recover from the intensity.

“That was only round one, Scott,” Jericho said.

“Look, you young whipper-snapper, I’m thirty-eight fucking years old!” I protested. “I’m not the Energizer Bunny, like you.”

Jericho put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I think you can keep up with me.” He gestured to Pascal, who wiped his hand across his mouth and smirked. “I know this one can.”