"Thirty-Six II", Simon/Matt/Tim, NC-17
Title: Thirty-Six II
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Tim/Matt/Simon
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1,425
Warnings: RPS (this is a work of fiction), BDSM including spanking, voyeurism, D/s, mild humiliation, aftercare
A/N: This is a sequel to "Thirty-Six Promises" found here: http://coffeethyme4me.livejournal.com/64311.html
Dedicated to my wonderful friend, elrhiarhodan who STILL has no power or heat. Here's a little heat for you, darlin'. Keep warm. ILU!
"Come see it," Simon said, and though Matt had been instructed not to look away from Tim, his eyes fluttered closed for just that one moment.
Tim stood, easy, and walked slowly over to where Matt lay over Simon's legs. Matt's cock throbbed with his pulse, with Tim's every step.
And then he was close enough Matt could smell his cologne. He could no longer see Tim's face, and the two men - his husband and his best friend - were surveying his naked buttocks as though he were a thing, a prize.
"Beautiful…" Tim murmured, the first word he'd said. Matt shivered violently.
"Take him," Simon said. "It's my turn to watch."
Tim had never touched him in that way. Tim had never been this person with him. Yet here he was - here they all were - and Matt's face burned with the intensity of the shift.
Tim reached out and touched gentle fingers to his face; Matt gasped. Tim traced the tear lines. And then he lifted Matt's chin with tender but authoritative fingers. He bent and looked Matt in the eye. Then he said the thing that dashed all Matt's defenses.
He said, a breath, "Matty…"
Matt was afraid that if he said it again, he'd come all over himself and embarrass them all.
But he didn't. He just helped Matt up, and Matt needed all the help he could get. Between Simon's hands and Tim's, he was nearly helpless, so deep in sub-space and so transformed by the event that he trembled as he was lifted to his feet.
He wasn't there long. Tim bent down and swept him up in a cradle carry, and Matt had no choice but to cling to Tim's neck as he was carried across the room to Tim's chair against the wall.
He could feel Tim's shuddering breath, feel every step in his burning bottom.
Tim set him down and then sat. "Come here," he said softly, commanding. "Straddle me, Matty."
Matt did. He settled one knee on one side of Tim's hips, the other on the other side. He couldn't rest his butt on Tim's legs. He stayed tense, his thighs holding him up.
"Come here," Tim said again, opening his arms.
Matt's exhale rushed out of him, and he came into Tim's arms, relaxing against his bigger body, held.
Tim wrapped his arms around him, one around his back, and the other…
Matt inhaled sharply as Tim touched his bottom. His cock jumped hard. The pain was incredible. That soft touch was harrowing, and Tim did it over and over again, dropping his other hand to caress him there, too. Matt clung to his neck. He whimpered into his skin.
Matt heard Simon moving, coming over. He handed Tim something. Matt was jostled a little, and then Tim's wet fingers dipped into the crevice of his ass and found his waiting hole. Matt wanted to weep with joy.
Tim dipped two fingers into him shallowly, and Matt groaned long and hard. Tim just dipped those fingers in and out, stretching him and then letting the elastic rim cinch all the way closed again. The sensation was…wonderful in a humiliating way. It felt… God, it felt… Too intimate. Too invasive. And he knew Simon was watching, seeing every little grab of his asshole around Tim's blunt fingertips.
Matt felt the rustling, heard the jingle of the belt, and he sipped in his breath. Tim pulled him in closer, almost rough, and then Matt felt the tip of his cock seeking entrance.
Matt closed his eyes and loosened his hole, relaxed as much as he could. The head pressed to him, and Matt had a surreal and inescapable moment of knowing just who it was at the precise moment he was entered. He couldn't help the tiny whisper…couldn't stop it… "T-Tuh…"
And then Tim hauled him down into his lap and buried himself up Matt's ass in one burning stroke. Matt opened his mouth on the beautiful pain. He was wrenched open. And when Tim pulled him even further down, he could feel the scratch of Tim's pants on his buttocks, too, and Matt cried tears of renewed pain and arousal and a sort of flying joy.
"Fuck yourself, sweetheart," Tim murmured in his ear, and Matt mewled - and started to bounce.
"That's it," Simon breathed behind him. Matt wondered if he was merely watching or if he was touching himself.
It was the last coherent thought he had.
Tim started bucking up, pulling him down hard at the same time. Matt's eyes rolled back. He was going to come. His cock was smacking Tim's lap with each descent, and Tim's dick was stroking over his prostate, and his ass was getting spanked all over again by Tim's wool-covered thighs.
It was too much, too good, too wrong, too horribly perfect.
Matt cried out as it ripped through him. He wanted to cry because he was coming on Tim's shirt when he hadn't been told he could. He was fucking it all up. He was making a mess. And yet there was no stopping it, and he'd never come harder. He rode Tim's cock shamelessly and let it happen. He groaned luridly, his head dropping back, bouncing for all he was worth until the last drop bubbled out and his body relaxed and there was nothing left of him except what Tim held in his arms, wasted.
He felt Tim's hand in his hair, stroking him, and he realized Tim was whispering in his ear, "Matty… Oh Matty… Have to come inside you. Come on. You can do it. Make me come."
So Matt, exhausted, on the verge of revelatory tears, ground his sore ass down on Tim's lap, felt the thick cock bruising his insides. He ground and he ground, trembling, until Tim gasped in his ear and then started moaning, his hands gripping his hips hard, and Matt felt it - warm and slippery inside him.
"You're amazing together," Simon said quietly. "Just amazing."
Matt felt Tim smile against his temple. "Thank you both so much," he said. "Thank you, Matthew."
Matt lifted his head, his tear-streaked face, and looked into his friend's eyes. All he could do was nod. Tim brushed the tears away.
"Let's get him laid down. I've got some ointment," Simon said, all loving business.
"Yeah," Tim agreed.
And then Matt's boneless body was lifted once more - Tim's cock slipped out, and they both gasped -- and he let himself be manhandled and carried and laid down on the bed. Tim stayed with him and got him under the covers. "You were so good, baby," he murmured.
Baby, Sweetheart…these were so brand new for them and yet they fell from Tim's lips like he'd been saying them for years. Matt felt cherished and loved and embarrassed in a very good way.
He curled up under the covers, and when Simon returned, they each took turns salving his aching ass.
Simon slipped his finger inside three times, and Matt groaned. Tim kissed his back.
Then he heard Simon say, "Stay."
And then Tim was undressing and his husband was, too, and soon they were in the bed with him, Simon at his back and Tim at his front, and they were holding him.
And he was so very warm. So very sleepy and warm and gone and fully present.
Everything was different. There were four hands soothing over him as he dozed, twenty fingers over his skin, two bodies pressed close, and Matt had never felt anything like it in all his thirty-six years.
Author: coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Tim/Matt/Simon
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1,425
Warnings: RPS (this is a work of fiction), BDSM including spanking, voyeurism, D/s, mild humiliation, aftercare
A/N: This is a sequel to "Thirty-Six Promises" found here: http://coffeethyme4me.livejournal.com/64311.html
Dedicated to my wonderful friend, elrhiarhodan who STILL has no power or heat. Here's a little heat for you, darlin'. Keep warm. ILU!
"Come see it," Simon said, and though Matt had been instructed not to look away from Tim, his eyes fluttered closed for just that one moment.
Tim stood, easy, and walked slowly over to where Matt lay over Simon's legs. Matt's cock throbbed with his pulse, with Tim's every step.
And then he was close enough Matt could smell his cologne. He could no longer see Tim's face, and the two men - his husband and his best friend - were surveying his naked buttocks as though he were a thing, a prize.
"Beautiful…" Tim murmured, the first word he'd said. Matt shivered violently.
"Take him," Simon said. "It's my turn to watch."
Tim had never touched him in that way. Tim had never been this person with him. Yet here he was - here they all were - and Matt's face burned with the intensity of the shift.
Tim reached out and touched gentle fingers to his face; Matt gasped. Tim traced the tear lines. And then he lifted Matt's chin with tender but authoritative fingers. He bent and looked Matt in the eye. Then he said the thing that dashed all Matt's defenses.
He said, a breath, "Matty…"
Matt was afraid that if he said it again, he'd come all over himself and embarrass them all.
But he didn't. He just helped Matt up, and Matt needed all the help he could get. Between Simon's hands and Tim's, he was nearly helpless, so deep in sub-space and so transformed by the event that he trembled as he was lifted to his feet.
He wasn't there long. Tim bent down and swept him up in a cradle carry, and Matt had no choice but to cling to Tim's neck as he was carried across the room to Tim's chair against the wall.
He could feel Tim's shuddering breath, feel every step in his burning bottom.
Tim set him down and then sat. "Come here," he said softly, commanding. "Straddle me, Matty."
Matt did. He settled one knee on one side of Tim's hips, the other on the other side. He couldn't rest his butt on Tim's legs. He stayed tense, his thighs holding him up.
"Come here," Tim said again, opening his arms.
Matt's exhale rushed out of him, and he came into Tim's arms, relaxing against his bigger body, held.
Tim wrapped his arms around him, one around his back, and the other…
Matt inhaled sharply as Tim touched his bottom. His cock jumped hard. The pain was incredible. That soft touch was harrowing, and Tim did it over and over again, dropping his other hand to caress him there, too. Matt clung to his neck. He whimpered into his skin.
Matt heard Simon moving, coming over. He handed Tim something. Matt was jostled a little, and then Tim's wet fingers dipped into the crevice of his ass and found his waiting hole. Matt wanted to weep with joy.
Tim dipped two fingers into him shallowly, and Matt groaned long and hard. Tim just dipped those fingers in and out, stretching him and then letting the elastic rim cinch all the way closed again. The sensation was…wonderful in a humiliating way. It felt… God, it felt… Too intimate. Too invasive. And he knew Simon was watching, seeing every little grab of his asshole around Tim's blunt fingertips.
Matt felt the rustling, heard the jingle of the belt, and he sipped in his breath. Tim pulled him in closer, almost rough, and then Matt felt the tip of his cock seeking entrance.
Matt closed his eyes and loosened his hole, relaxed as much as he could. The head pressed to him, and Matt had a surreal and inescapable moment of knowing just who it was at the precise moment he was entered. He couldn't help the tiny whisper…couldn't stop it… "T-Tuh…"
And then Tim hauled him down into his lap and buried himself up Matt's ass in one burning stroke. Matt opened his mouth on the beautiful pain. He was wrenched open. And when Tim pulled him even further down, he could feel the scratch of Tim's pants on his buttocks, too, and Matt cried tears of renewed pain and arousal and a sort of flying joy.
"Fuck yourself, sweetheart," Tim murmured in his ear, and Matt mewled - and started to bounce.
"That's it," Simon breathed behind him. Matt wondered if he was merely watching or if he was touching himself.
It was the last coherent thought he had.
Tim started bucking up, pulling him down hard at the same time. Matt's eyes rolled back. He was going to come. His cock was smacking Tim's lap with each descent, and Tim's dick was stroking over his prostate, and his ass was getting spanked all over again by Tim's wool-covered thighs.
It was too much, too good, too wrong, too horribly perfect.
Matt cried out as it ripped through him. He wanted to cry because he was coming on Tim's shirt when he hadn't been told he could. He was fucking it all up. He was making a mess. And yet there was no stopping it, and he'd never come harder. He rode Tim's cock shamelessly and let it happen. He groaned luridly, his head dropping back, bouncing for all he was worth until the last drop bubbled out and his body relaxed and there was nothing left of him except what Tim held in his arms, wasted.
He felt Tim's hand in his hair, stroking him, and he realized Tim was whispering in his ear, "Matty… Oh Matty… Have to come inside you. Come on. You can do it. Make me come."
So Matt, exhausted, on the verge of revelatory tears, ground his sore ass down on Tim's lap, felt the thick cock bruising his insides. He ground and he ground, trembling, until Tim gasped in his ear and then started moaning, his hands gripping his hips hard, and Matt felt it - warm and slippery inside him.
"You're amazing together," Simon said quietly. "Just amazing."
Matt felt Tim smile against his temple. "Thank you both so much," he said. "Thank you, Matthew."
Matt lifted his head, his tear-streaked face, and looked into his friend's eyes. All he could do was nod. Tim brushed the tears away.
"Let's get him laid down. I've got some ointment," Simon said, all loving business.
"Yeah," Tim agreed.
And then Matt's boneless body was lifted once more - Tim's cock slipped out, and they both gasped -- and he let himself be manhandled and carried and laid down on the bed. Tim stayed with him and got him under the covers. "You were so good, baby," he murmured.
Baby, Sweetheart…these were so brand new for them and yet they fell from Tim's lips like he'd been saying them for years. Matt felt cherished and loved and embarrassed in a very good way.
He curled up under the covers, and when Simon returned, they each took turns salving his aching ass.
Simon slipped his finger inside three times, and Matt groaned. Tim kissed his back.
Then he heard Simon say, "Stay."
And then Tim was undressing and his husband was, too, and soon they were in the bed with him, Simon at his back and Tim at his front, and they were holding him.
And he was so very warm. So very sleepy and warm and gone and fully present.
Everything was different. There were four hands soothing over him as he dozed, twenty fingers over his skin, two bodies pressed close, and Matt had never felt anything like it in all his thirty-six years.