One, Two, Three (Casey/Zeke/Marybeth) NC-17
Title: One, Two, Three
Author: moit
Pairing: Casey/Zeke/Marybeth
Fandom: The Faculty
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, H/C, angst
Warnings: Slash, minour het (please don't let this deter you), bondage, implied slavery
Summary: AU. Takes place directly after Casey tried to kill Marybeth, only instead of killing her, it just kills all of her minions. Marybeth then exacts her revenge on Casey and Zeke.
Word Count: 2,719
Author's Note: This is dedicated to gabi_fics for showing me the hottest manip of Jared Padalecki naked and chained.
“Marybeth!” Zeke screamed. He screamed until he was hoarse. Until it felt like he’d swallowed glass every time he tried to scream again. His voice was no more than a harsh whisper, but he screamed again. And screamed.
The stupid fucking bitch had blinded folded, kidnapped, and stripped Zeke, chained him up, and left him alone in a stone cell. His voice echoed off the concrete walls. The floor was cold, but nude he felt every sting from the chill that pervaded the air. He tugged uselessly at the bonds holding him, but it was no use. His wrists were bound to his ankles, forcing him to either sit up on his knees or sit down and pull his knees into his chest. The chill of the floor kept him on his knees.
He desperately wondered what Marybeth had done with Casey. They were the only two left alive in the school. Casey stabbed Marybeth, but instead of killing her, it had somehow affected everyone she’d infected. Zeke promptly threw up when he watched Stokely fall to the floor with blood streaming out of her ears and her mouth. Dragging Casey by the wrists, Marybeth just kicked her to the side and muttered, “Pity.” Casey just looked wide-eyed and helpless as Marybeth dragged him past the equipment cage in which Zeke was still locked. Zeke tried screaming at Casey to fight back, but the kid just let Marybeth pull him along.
Hours passed, days passed, with no sign of light or of Marybeth. For all he knew, she was just going to let Zeke starve in a dank cell for his efforts to kill her.
The ground grew too cold for Zeke’s knees and he rolled onto his side. The cold was worse this way, crept across more of his skin, but it gave his knees a reprieve from both the cold and the weight of his body. He shivered to keep warm, told himself it wasn’t out of fear. It wasn’t out of fear, dammit. He was just fucking cold. Stupid bitch could at least have given him something to lay on.
Zeke would hallucinate from time to time. Sometimes he’d see Marybeth walking towards him. She never made it to the door to his cell, though. Other times he saw Casey hurrying towards him with keys in his hand. Mostly, Zeke thought he was in his own bed. Those were the times he thought this was a dream, but that only happened while he was sleeping. He started to confuse reality with his dreams.
Mostly, Zeke knew he was starving to death. It wasn’t cold enough for him to freeze, just cold enough to be uncomfortable. His stomach tied itself in knots, growling loud enough to echo in the small space. Zeke told it to shut up; his own problems were more important than the hunger his stomach felt. He’d distract himself by counting the bars on the cell door. Fourteen. Spaced in such a way that Zeke could get his arm through the space, get his leg through to the knee, but no more. He imagined it to be about five inches wide. The bars themselves were about an inch wide. Fourteen bars, fourteen inches. Fifteen spaces, seventy-five inches. Eighty-nine inches total. Roughly seven and a half feet across. The cell appeared to be square. Fifty-six square feet. Less than a typical prison cell. Zeke ruminated on these numbers to keep himself from thinking about other things.
Five inches. Fourteen bars. Seven and a half feet. Fifty-six square feet.
If he was honest with himself, he worried he was going crazy. Days without water will do that to a man.
Zeke continued to count. Fourteen bars. One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven . . .
Zeke stopped.
Marybeth.
He counted again.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven.
That wasn’t right. It had to be a hallucination. He was sleeping. Absolutely.
Zeke rolled himself up onto his knees and pinched the skin above his ass. The ground felt cold, the chains clinked as he moved. Not a dream.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth.
Oh, fuck.
“Hello, Zeke,” she said, only her voice was devoid of the sickly-sweet southern belle accent. She sounded like she could be from the Midwest, Anytown, USA.
“I’m dreaming again,” Zeke rasped out.
“Oh, this is not a dream,” she said, stepping closer. She ran her hand over one of the bars. Number seven, Zeke noted. A lucky number. She had to be a dream.
“Are you ready to play nice? I could always come back in a couple more days. After you’ve had time to think about things . . .”
“Dreaming.”
“Not a dream, Zeke.” She squatted down so they were eye level. “You know, I really don’t like to have to keep you in there all chained up. Casey’s doing quite well out of his cell.”
Zeke’s ears perked up. “Casey?” Maybe not a dream. Lucky number seven. Lucky number seven.
“Mmmhmm. He wasn’t quite as willful as you are. I didn’t have to keep him caged so long.”
“Can I see him?” Zeke rasped, no longer caring so much for his own welfare.
“I don’t know,” Marybeth said. “I don’t know that I can trust you yet. For all I know, you’ll try to kill me as soon as I let you out of that cell.”
“I won’t, I swear. I swear. Just let me see Casey.”
“Perhaps another day. We shall see.” Marybeth produced from the bag she carried a bottle of water and a few slices of bread and cheese.
Zeke devoured it all before she even left the room. Somehow he felt even hungrier than he had before he’d eaten.
Another day. Another day. Another day.
The mantra filled Zeke’s mind. He no longer cared for counting the bars on the cell. No longer cared for screaming. Another day he could get out of here. Another day he wouldn’t have to count the bars on the cell. Another day he’d see Casey.
Another day came only when Zeke had almost given up hope. Marybeth was suddenly in front of him. Definitely not a dream. Not a dream, he desperately reminded himself.
“Are you willing to play nice today?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke nodded vigorously. “Not a dream.” He sounded as hoarse as he had the previous time he’d seen Marybeth.
Marybeth smiled. She almost looked human. “No, I’m not a dream, Zeke. I’ve come to let you out. Are you going to be a good boy?”
Zeke nodded again. He looked like a puppy that had agreed to sit still in exchange for a treat. And this puppy very much wanted his treat.
“Stay,” Marybeth said, giggling at her own joke. She unlocked Zeke’s cell and approached him slowly. He watched her with dark, wary eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. She unchained his wrists from his ankles, but did not unfasten the chains that held his hands and feet together. “Up you go,” she said, pulling him to his feet by the chain between his wrists. Zeke was nearly a foot taller than her, but she wasn’t fazed by the height difference. “Good boy.”
She dropped the chain and Zeke’s shackled wrists fell against his thighs with a dull thud. Maybeth circled Zeke’s nude body slowly like a buying perusing merchandise. She must have liked what she saw because she stopped in front of him, nodding slowly.
“You’re not going to run?”
“No,” Zeke whispered.
“No, ma’am,” Marybeth corrected.
“No, ma’am,” Zeke repeated.
Marybeth smiled again. “My Zeke, but you are a quick learner. I may just have a use for you yet. If I unchain your ankles do you promise not to run?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Zeke knew he wouldn’t be able to run if he tried. After being shackled for so long, his legs were shaking just from standing.
Marybeth knelt down and unlocked the chain from Zeke’s ankles, but left the cuffs. She liked the way the black leather looked against Zeke’s skin.
“Follow me,” she said. She didn’t bother looking behind her to ensure Zeke was obeying.
She led Zeke up a set of stairs and into a modern home. The light shining through the windows made Zeke gasp and cover his eyes. After being in the dark for so long he wasn’t used to such a bright atmosphere.
“You’re fine, come on.”
They walked up the stairs to the second floor and through the double doors at the end of the hallway.
“Welcome home, darling.”
Zeke looked around the room. It was just a typical bedroom, save for the king size bed dominating the majority of it. Upon that bed was-
“Casey!” Zeke shouted, though it came out as little more than a hoarse whisper.
Marybeth grabbed his arm before he could take a step towards the other boy. “Not until I say, pumpkin.”
On the bed, Casey lifted his head and arched his back, stretching like a cat. Zeke could see that he was nude as well, save for the collar around his neck.
“Are you going to play nice?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke nodded furiously, his eyes never leaving Casey. Casey, for his part, just rolled over onto his stomach and rested his cheek on his folded arms, watching Zeke and Marybeth with wide eyes.
“Go ahead.”
Zeke clambered up onto the bed as best he could with his wrists still shackled together. He looped his arms over Casey’s head to pull him close and Casey went willingly, rubbing his face against Zeke’s chest.
“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Zeke whispered, eyes raking Casey’s bare back for any sign of trauma or abuse.
“No,” Casey said sounding dreamy. “I’ve just been waiting for you.”
“Are you drugged?” Zeke asked, casting a wary glance to Marybeth, who stood watching their interaction with rapt attention.
“No,” Casey repeated. “But if I didn’t play nice, she threatened to leave you in the basement until you died. And then she said she’d keep me here, anyway. Or else I could go to the basement with your corpse.” Casey visibly shuddered. “I won’t let you die.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Zeke said, pressing a kiss to the top of Casey’s head.
“Have we caught up?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke pulled his shackled wrists back over Casey’s head and rested them in his lap. “Yes, ma’am.” He’d gone so far already. If this was what it would take to keep Casey alive, he’d do it. He’d do anything for Marybeth. She’d been so generous already.
“Casey, show Zeke how much you missed him,” Marybeth said, sitting down in the armchair next to the bed.
Casey took Zeke’s face in his hands, forcing the other boy to look at him instead of at Marybeth. “It’s just me and you,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to Zeke’s mouth.
Zeke’s lips parted of their own accord, allowing Casey to slip his tongue inside Zeke’s mouth. Casey’s tongue mapped the contours of Zeke’s mouth. They hadn’t seen each other for weeks and Casey was acting like they’d never see each other again.
With his hands bound in front of him, Zeke could only rub at the skin of Casey’s belly. He lowered his hands and found Casey’s cock semi-hard and responsive to Zeke’s touch.
“Do you like it when Zeke strokes your cock, Casey?” Marybeth asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Casey smeared against Zeke’s lips.
Zeke glanced over and saw that Marybeth was working herself furiously beneath her skirt. She met his eyes and Zeke looked away, blushing.
“It’s okay, Zeke. I want you to look. You still like women, don’t you, boy?”
Casey began trailing kisses down Zeke’s throat, giving him room to talk. “Yes, ma’am,” Zeke stuttered.
“Look at me.”
Zeke raised his eyes to Marybeth. She’d rucked her skirt up over her hips so that Zeke had a clear view of her fingers buried in her pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” Zeke shuddered, as Casey took his cock in his mouth. Zeke worked his fingers into Casey’s hair, thrusting gently into his mouth.
“That’s enough.” Marybeth snapped her fingers and Casey’s mouth was off Zeke’s cock in a heartbeat. “Come here, Casey.”
Casey slid off the bed in one fluid movement to kneel at Marybeth’s feet. Marybeth pulled a dog leash from between the cushions of her chair and clipped it to the D-ring in Casey’s collar. She wound the leash around her wrist until Casey’s face was in her crotch. “Go on, boy. You know how momma likes it.”
Without a second thought, Casey buried his face in Marybeth’s pussy. Judging by the enthusiasm he paid to her body, this was not the first time he’d done this. He seemed to know exactly what she liked. Marybeth bit her lip, throwing her head back onto the chair. She eyed Zeke with lust-dilated eyes. “Are you lonely over there, pumpkin?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zeke said, licking his suddenly dry lips. His cock was standing proud and hard at attention. Casey’s saliva was beginning to cool, making the heated skin more sensitive.
“Then get over here,” Marybeth said, smirking.
Zeke got off the bed as quickly as he could and knelt at Marybeth’s feet. All the while, Casey never took notice of either of them. He kept up his ministrations on her with the same enthusiasm he’d began.
“I want you to fuck Casey while he eats me out.”
Zeke’s breath quickened. Just the thought of being wrapped in Casey’s heat was enough to make him grit his teeth with desire. “I need lube,” he said. “Ma’am.”
“Oh,” Marybeth carded her hand through Casey’s soft hair, “he’s already been prepared. You can just slide right in.” Her hand tightened. “Don’t make me wait.”
Zeke crawled behind Casey. He guided his cock to Casey’s hole, finding it as slick and open as if Zeke himself had spent several long minutes preparing him. Once seated halfway, he laid his palms down on Casey’s lower back and pressed the rest of the way inside Casey’s body.
Casey moaned into Marybeth’s pussy, which made her pull on the leash in her hand. “Fuck him, Zeke.”
Not one to disobey, Zeke began thrusting steadily into Casey’s body. Every thrust pushed Casey’s face into Marybeth’s crotch, earning a moan from both of them. Zeke felt like he was fucking them both, a thought that spurred him on all the more.
The heat encasing his cock quickly drove Zeke to the edge. But before he could crest, Marybeth groaned low in her throat. “Don’t you dare come before I do.”
Zeke had to slow his thrusts to keep from cumming. He ground his teeth together and thought fervently of things other than Casey’s tight ass.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven, Casey. Casey. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Zeke slid his cock out until just the tip remained inside Casey’s body. He slid back inside slowly, earning a low groan from Casey’s throat.
“Faster,” Marybeth sighed.
Zeke sped his thrusts up, forcing Casey’s tongue into her body at a quicker rate.
“Yesyesyes,” she sighed, holding the leash tight with one hand and forcing Casey’s face into her pussy with the other.
Zeke pushed into Casey’s body as deep as he could and held himself there, watching Marybeth’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut, little panting breaths escaping her open mouth. Although women weren’t his first choice, Zeke never tired of watching one reach orgasm.
“You can come now,” Marybeth sighed, releasing Casey’s hair.
It only took a handful of thrusts before Zeke was emptying himself into Casey’s willing body. He collapsed over his sweaty back with a sigh.
“Thank you, thank you,” he whispered, pressing kisses to Casey’s damp skin. Even he didn’t know if he was thanking Casey or Marybeth.
“Casey, you didn’t,” Zeke mumbled, fumbling awkwardly beneath Casey’s body with his wrists still tethered together. But he found Casey’s cock soft.
“He came when I did,” Marybeth said, smiling softly as she opened her eyes.
Zeke’s mouth rounded in a little “o” of surprise.
“I think I’m going to enjoy playing with the two of you,” Marybeth giggled to herself as Casey sat back on his heels and Zeke looped his arms over the boy’s head to pull him close.
Author: moit
Pairing: Casey/Zeke/Marybeth
Fandom: The Faculty
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut, H/C, angst
Warnings: Slash, minour het (please don't let this deter you), bondage, implied slavery
Summary: AU. Takes place directly after Casey tried to kill Marybeth, only instead of killing her, it just kills all of her minions. Marybeth then exacts her revenge on Casey and Zeke.
Word Count: 2,719
Author's Note: This is dedicated to gabi_fics for showing me the hottest manip of Jared Padalecki naked and chained.
“Marybeth!” Zeke screamed. He screamed until he was hoarse. Until it felt like he’d swallowed glass every time he tried to scream again. His voice was no more than a harsh whisper, but he screamed again. And screamed.
The stupid fucking bitch had blinded folded, kidnapped, and stripped Zeke, chained him up, and left him alone in a stone cell. His voice echoed off the concrete walls. The floor was cold, but nude he felt every sting from the chill that pervaded the air. He tugged uselessly at the bonds holding him, but it was no use. His wrists were bound to his ankles, forcing him to either sit up on his knees or sit down and pull his knees into his chest. The chill of the floor kept him on his knees.
He desperately wondered what Marybeth had done with Casey. They were the only two left alive in the school. Casey stabbed Marybeth, but instead of killing her, it had somehow affected everyone she’d infected. Zeke promptly threw up when he watched Stokely fall to the floor with blood streaming out of her ears and her mouth. Dragging Casey by the wrists, Marybeth just kicked her to the side and muttered, “Pity.” Casey just looked wide-eyed and helpless as Marybeth dragged him past the equipment cage in which Zeke was still locked. Zeke tried screaming at Casey to fight back, but the kid just let Marybeth pull him along.
Hours passed, days passed, with no sign of light or of Marybeth. For all he knew, she was just going to let Zeke starve in a dank cell for his efforts to kill her.
The ground grew too cold for Zeke’s knees and he rolled onto his side. The cold was worse this way, crept across more of his skin, but it gave his knees a reprieve from both the cold and the weight of his body. He shivered to keep warm, told himself it wasn’t out of fear. It wasn’t out of fear, dammit. He was just fucking cold. Stupid bitch could at least have given him something to lay on.
Zeke would hallucinate from time to time. Sometimes he’d see Marybeth walking towards him. She never made it to the door to his cell, though. Other times he saw Casey hurrying towards him with keys in his hand. Mostly, Zeke thought he was in his own bed. Those were the times he thought this was a dream, but that only happened while he was sleeping. He started to confuse reality with his dreams.
Mostly, Zeke knew he was starving to death. It wasn’t cold enough for him to freeze, just cold enough to be uncomfortable. His stomach tied itself in knots, growling loud enough to echo in the small space. Zeke told it to shut up; his own problems were more important than the hunger his stomach felt. He’d distract himself by counting the bars on the cell door. Fourteen. Spaced in such a way that Zeke could get his arm through the space, get his leg through to the knee, but no more. He imagined it to be about five inches wide. The bars themselves were about an inch wide. Fourteen bars, fourteen inches. Fifteen spaces, seventy-five inches. Eighty-nine inches total. Roughly seven and a half feet across. The cell appeared to be square. Fifty-six square feet. Less than a typical prison cell. Zeke ruminated on these numbers to keep himself from thinking about other things.
Five inches. Fourteen bars. Seven and a half feet. Fifty-six square feet.
If he was honest with himself, he worried he was going crazy. Days without water will do that to a man.
Zeke continued to count. Fourteen bars. One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven . . .
Zeke stopped.
Marybeth.
He counted again.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven.
That wasn’t right. It had to be a hallucination. He was sleeping. Absolutely.
Zeke rolled himself up onto his knees and pinched the skin above his ass. The ground felt cold, the chains clinked as he moved. Not a dream.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth.
Oh, fuck.
“Hello, Zeke,” she said, only her voice was devoid of the sickly-sweet southern belle accent. She sounded like she could be from the Midwest, Anytown, USA.
“I’m dreaming again,” Zeke rasped out.
“Oh, this is not a dream,” she said, stepping closer. She ran her hand over one of the bars. Number seven, Zeke noted. A lucky number. She had to be a dream.
“Are you ready to play nice? I could always come back in a couple more days. After you’ve had time to think about things . . .”
“Dreaming.”
“Not a dream, Zeke.” She squatted down so they were eye level. “You know, I really don’t like to have to keep you in there all chained up. Casey’s doing quite well out of his cell.”
Zeke’s ears perked up. “Casey?” Maybe not a dream. Lucky number seven. Lucky number seven.
“Mmmhmm. He wasn’t quite as willful as you are. I didn’t have to keep him caged so long.”
“Can I see him?” Zeke rasped, no longer caring so much for his own welfare.
“I don’t know,” Marybeth said. “I don’t know that I can trust you yet. For all I know, you’ll try to kill me as soon as I let you out of that cell.”
“I won’t, I swear. I swear. Just let me see Casey.”
“Perhaps another day. We shall see.” Marybeth produced from the bag she carried a bottle of water and a few slices of bread and cheese.
Zeke devoured it all before she even left the room. Somehow he felt even hungrier than he had before he’d eaten.
Another day. Another day. Another day.
The mantra filled Zeke’s mind. He no longer cared for counting the bars on the cell. No longer cared for screaming. Another day he could get out of here. Another day he wouldn’t have to count the bars on the cell. Another day he’d see Casey.
Another day came only when Zeke had almost given up hope. Marybeth was suddenly in front of him. Definitely not a dream. Not a dream, he desperately reminded himself.
“Are you willing to play nice today?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke nodded vigorously. “Not a dream.” He sounded as hoarse as he had the previous time he’d seen Marybeth.
Marybeth smiled. She almost looked human. “No, I’m not a dream, Zeke. I’ve come to let you out. Are you going to be a good boy?”
Zeke nodded again. He looked like a puppy that had agreed to sit still in exchange for a treat. And this puppy very much wanted his treat.
“Stay,” Marybeth said, giggling at her own joke. She unlocked Zeke’s cell and approached him slowly. He watched her with dark, wary eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. She unchained his wrists from his ankles, but did not unfasten the chains that held his hands and feet together. “Up you go,” she said, pulling him to his feet by the chain between his wrists. Zeke was nearly a foot taller than her, but she wasn’t fazed by the height difference. “Good boy.”
She dropped the chain and Zeke’s shackled wrists fell against his thighs with a dull thud. Maybeth circled Zeke’s nude body slowly like a buying perusing merchandise. She must have liked what she saw because she stopped in front of him, nodding slowly.
“You’re not going to run?”
“No,” Zeke whispered.
“No, ma’am,” Marybeth corrected.
“No, ma’am,” Zeke repeated.
Marybeth smiled again. “My Zeke, but you are a quick learner. I may just have a use for you yet. If I unchain your ankles do you promise not to run?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Zeke knew he wouldn’t be able to run if he tried. After being shackled for so long, his legs were shaking just from standing.
Marybeth knelt down and unlocked the chain from Zeke’s ankles, but left the cuffs. She liked the way the black leather looked against Zeke’s skin.
“Follow me,” she said. She didn’t bother looking behind her to ensure Zeke was obeying.
She led Zeke up a set of stairs and into a modern home. The light shining through the windows made Zeke gasp and cover his eyes. After being in the dark for so long he wasn’t used to such a bright atmosphere.
“You’re fine, come on.”
They walked up the stairs to the second floor and through the double doors at the end of the hallway.
“Welcome home, darling.”
Zeke looked around the room. It was just a typical bedroom, save for the king size bed dominating the majority of it. Upon that bed was-
“Casey!” Zeke shouted, though it came out as little more than a hoarse whisper.
Marybeth grabbed his arm before he could take a step towards the other boy. “Not until I say, pumpkin.”
On the bed, Casey lifted his head and arched his back, stretching like a cat. Zeke could see that he was nude as well, save for the collar around his neck.
“Are you going to play nice?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke nodded furiously, his eyes never leaving Casey. Casey, for his part, just rolled over onto his stomach and rested his cheek on his folded arms, watching Zeke and Marybeth with wide eyes.
“Go ahead.”
Zeke clambered up onto the bed as best he could with his wrists still shackled together. He looped his arms over Casey’s head to pull him close and Casey went willingly, rubbing his face against Zeke’s chest.
“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Zeke whispered, eyes raking Casey’s bare back for any sign of trauma or abuse.
“No,” Casey said sounding dreamy. “I’ve just been waiting for you.”
“Are you drugged?” Zeke asked, casting a wary glance to Marybeth, who stood watching their interaction with rapt attention.
“No,” Casey repeated. “But if I didn’t play nice, she threatened to leave you in the basement until you died. And then she said she’d keep me here, anyway. Or else I could go to the basement with your corpse.” Casey visibly shuddered. “I won’t let you die.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Zeke said, pressing a kiss to the top of Casey’s head.
“Have we caught up?” Marybeth asked.
Zeke pulled his shackled wrists back over Casey’s head and rested them in his lap. “Yes, ma’am.” He’d gone so far already. If this was what it would take to keep Casey alive, he’d do it. He’d do anything for Marybeth. She’d been so generous already.
“Casey, show Zeke how much you missed him,” Marybeth said, sitting down in the armchair next to the bed.
Casey took Zeke’s face in his hands, forcing the other boy to look at him instead of at Marybeth. “It’s just me and you,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to Zeke’s mouth.
Zeke’s lips parted of their own accord, allowing Casey to slip his tongue inside Zeke’s mouth. Casey’s tongue mapped the contours of Zeke’s mouth. They hadn’t seen each other for weeks and Casey was acting like they’d never see each other again.
With his hands bound in front of him, Zeke could only rub at the skin of Casey’s belly. He lowered his hands and found Casey’s cock semi-hard and responsive to Zeke’s touch.
“Do you like it when Zeke strokes your cock, Casey?” Marybeth asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Casey smeared against Zeke’s lips.
Zeke glanced over and saw that Marybeth was working herself furiously beneath her skirt. She met his eyes and Zeke looked away, blushing.
“It’s okay, Zeke. I want you to look. You still like women, don’t you, boy?”
Casey began trailing kisses down Zeke’s throat, giving him room to talk. “Yes, ma’am,” Zeke stuttered.
“Look at me.”
Zeke raised his eyes to Marybeth. She’d rucked her skirt up over her hips so that Zeke had a clear view of her fingers buried in her pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” Zeke shuddered, as Casey took his cock in his mouth. Zeke worked his fingers into Casey’s hair, thrusting gently into his mouth.
“That’s enough.” Marybeth snapped her fingers and Casey’s mouth was off Zeke’s cock in a heartbeat. “Come here, Casey.”
Casey slid off the bed in one fluid movement to kneel at Marybeth’s feet. Marybeth pulled a dog leash from between the cushions of her chair and clipped it to the D-ring in Casey’s collar. She wound the leash around her wrist until Casey’s face was in her crotch. “Go on, boy. You know how momma likes it.”
Without a second thought, Casey buried his face in Marybeth’s pussy. Judging by the enthusiasm he paid to her body, this was not the first time he’d done this. He seemed to know exactly what she liked. Marybeth bit her lip, throwing her head back onto the chair. She eyed Zeke with lust-dilated eyes. “Are you lonely over there, pumpkin?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zeke said, licking his suddenly dry lips. His cock was standing proud and hard at attention. Casey’s saliva was beginning to cool, making the heated skin more sensitive.
“Then get over here,” Marybeth said, smirking.
Zeke got off the bed as quickly as he could and knelt at Marybeth’s feet. All the while, Casey never took notice of either of them. He kept up his ministrations on her with the same enthusiasm he’d began.
“I want you to fuck Casey while he eats me out.”
Zeke’s breath quickened. Just the thought of being wrapped in Casey’s heat was enough to make him grit his teeth with desire. “I need lube,” he said. “Ma’am.”
“Oh,” Marybeth carded her hand through Casey’s soft hair, “he’s already been prepared. You can just slide right in.” Her hand tightened. “Don’t make me wait.”
Zeke crawled behind Casey. He guided his cock to Casey’s hole, finding it as slick and open as if Zeke himself had spent several long minutes preparing him. Once seated halfway, he laid his palms down on Casey’s lower back and pressed the rest of the way inside Casey’s body.
Casey moaned into Marybeth’s pussy, which made her pull on the leash in her hand. “Fuck him, Zeke.”
Not one to disobey, Zeke began thrusting steadily into Casey’s body. Every thrust pushed Casey’s face into Marybeth’s crotch, earning a moan from both of them. Zeke felt like he was fucking them both, a thought that spurred him on all the more.
The heat encasing his cock quickly drove Zeke to the edge. But before he could crest, Marybeth groaned low in her throat. “Don’t you dare come before I do.”
Zeke had to slow his thrusts to keep from cumming. He ground his teeth together and thought fervently of things other than Casey’s tight ass.
One, two, three, four, Marybeth, five, six, seven, Casey. Casey. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Zeke slid his cock out until just the tip remained inside Casey’s body. He slid back inside slowly, earning a low groan from Casey’s throat.
“Faster,” Marybeth sighed.
Zeke sped his thrusts up, forcing Casey’s tongue into her body at a quicker rate.
“Yesyesyes,” she sighed, holding the leash tight with one hand and forcing Casey’s face into her pussy with the other.
Zeke pushed into Casey’s body as deep as he could and held himself there, watching Marybeth’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut, little panting breaths escaping her open mouth. Although women weren’t his first choice, Zeke never tired of watching one reach orgasm.
“You can come now,” Marybeth sighed, releasing Casey’s hair.
It only took a handful of thrusts before Zeke was emptying himself into Casey’s willing body. He collapsed over his sweaty back with a sigh.
“Thank you, thank you,” he whispered, pressing kisses to Casey’s damp skin. Even he didn’t know if he was thanking Casey or Marybeth.
“Casey, you didn’t,” Zeke mumbled, fumbling awkwardly beneath Casey’s body with his wrists still tethered together. But he found Casey’s cock soft.
“He came when I did,” Marybeth said, smiling softly as she opened her eyes.
Zeke’s mouth rounded in a little “o” of surprise.
“I think I’m going to enjoy playing with the two of you,” Marybeth giggled to herself as Casey sat back on his heels and Zeke looped his arms over the boy’s head to pull him close.