The Tomorrow Trilogy Fanfiction - The Rule
I need to stop writing smut that's 5k words long. Or longer. This is a fill for 10_kink_prompts. The prompt? Pornography. Savin/Mitchel and Jazz/Savin, enjoyyyy
Today’s gonna be a great fucking day. No, make that an awesome day. It’s always an awesome day when Mitchel and I have a job to do. We’re on our way to the studio now -- though we still have to pick up our latest find along the way. This totally cute kid, maybe twenty years old. Blond, blue eyes. Perfectly round ass.
“You’re already thinking about our shoot today, aren’t you?” Mitchel asks, lightly dragging his fingers along the inside of my thigh as I drive.
I smile sheepishly at him. “And if I am?”
“Save some of that enthusiasm for later, Savin,” he murmurs. He looks right at me, as if he were trying to read what the hell’s going on inside my head. Worst part is? The bastard’s usually fucking right. I both love and hate that about him. And I especially hate that his insanely perfect fingers are now teasing me through my jeans. It makes it all the more difficult to focus on driving. “You know how I like to play with you myself after we’re done filming...”
“Speaking of filming -- are you sure you don’t wanna put this kid in a skirt?” I ask, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. I have to keep my eyes from drifting closed as he continues to rub his hand against me. Fucking Christ, we’re gonna have to stop before we even pick this kid up, aren’t we?
“Why a skirt?” Mitchel counters, his hand finally moving away from my lap. It’s all I can do to not groan in disappointment when he does.
“Have you seen this kid’s legs?” He totally can’t be serious right now -- Mitchel picked this kid because he knows how much he fits my type. “They’re made for showing off -- also, if we put him in a skirt I can fuck him while he’s still wearing it.”
Mitchel seems impressed with this idea. After all, the kid’s his type, too. How the fuck we ended up together, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because the bastard has this way of pushing my buttons -- and now I’m pushing his by making him think of me pounding into that blond kid with everything I got.
“Pull over.”
Mitchel’s words are an order I simply can’t ignore. I find the nearest parking lot and shut off the engine just as Mitchel’s climbing over the middle console to straddle my lap, grinding against me. “You really want to fuck this kid, don’t you?” he breathes against my neck.
I shiver, letting my eyes roll back as I recline the seat as much as I can. He knows what talking like that does to me. His hands are sliding up my shirt, pushing it away as he kisses his way down my chest. Broad fucking daylight -- which just only makes this whole thing that much hotter.
“H-Hey, if I’m gonna -- gonna give this kid all I’ve got today during filming...” I groan, throwing my head back and letting my own hands crawl up the back of his shirt.
Mitchel smirks at me, rolling his hips expertly. “I want you to last a while on set today,” he murmurs, his fingers deftly undoing my zipper and pulling me free of my jeans. “And I want you to think of me while you’re fucking him. How tight I am compared to him -- how my fingers are compared to his...”
Nothing can compare to Mitchel’s fingers. They’re fucking amazing, perfectly maintained and my breathing’s gone so shallow I’m surprised I’m getting any air as he jerks me off. He’s already got me to the fucking edge, each stroke of his hand bringing me closer to it.
Mitchel repositions himself back in his seat, bending over so he can swallow my cock just as I’m about to come. His tongue is as precise as his hands. Hate the fact that the bastard totally knows what he’s doing. Just as he takes all of me in, I can’t hold back anymore, a sharp cry escaping my lips as my hands bury themselves in his hair.
“Fuck,” I gasp as he pulls away from me, that annoyingly self-satisfied smirk of his firmly planted on his face. “How the hell do you expect me to drive after that?”
“I don’t,” he answers, chuckling quietly to himself. He opens the passenger side door and slips out of it just as I’m tucking myself back into my jeans, still breathing heavy. I take a moment to try and catch my breath before opening my door and wandering around to the other side of the car.
Even as Mitchel pulls the car back onto the road, I still can’t quite forget the feel of his mouth around me. How the hell is he so good at that? Or at anything else he does to me?
I can only hope that this kid doesn’t tire me out as much as Mitchel does.
***
Okay, this just isn’t fair.
The kid? Goes by the name Jazz. And he really is barely twenty years old. Five years younger than me -- nearly ten years younger than Mitchel. And he’s more than just adorable -- he’s fucking adorable. Christ, one look at me and the kid nearly turned bright red.
Which is a good thing, I guess. Not having to fake sexual attraction definitely makes the job a whole lot easier. I’m almost disappointed when Mitchel pulls Jazz away from me. Even give him a guilty smile when he narrows his eyes at me over his shoulder. Of course he’s jealous. He always is at first.
But then he gets to direct everything I do to my co-star -- gets to direct everything they do to me. And then we go home and he calls the shots there, too. Sometimes, though, he lets me just do what I want -- and when I see Jazz walking out onto the set in a short as hell skirt and pumps, I have a feeling this is gonna be one of those times.
I’m so busy staring at Jazz’s legs and the way that nurse’s “dress” hardly covers his ass when Mitchel puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump. “The nurse is ready for you, doctor,” he breathes in my ear. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“You really wanna watch me fuck the shit out of him, don’t you?” I mutter back, my hand straightening the knot to my tie. Mitchel notices and snorts, his fingers batting mine away and fixing the knot with practiced ease.
“The two of you make an attractive pair, so yes,” he answers, his face completely and utterly composed. His eyes drift upwards to mine, a slight smirk overtaking his features. “You’re allowed to direct the show today -- I get the distinct feeling you would simply ignore any of my orders, anyway.”
I grin at him, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m sorry. He’s fucking hot, okay?” I say, making sure to keep my voice low.
“I’m well aware,” he murmurs, letting his hands fall away from my tie. Before I can say anything in response, he then yanks me forward by my tie, smashing his lips against my own. Totally made my difficult situation even harder, as I can see Jazz watching us as Mitchel breaks the kiss. “Do what you like to him -- just don’t break the Rule, Savin.”
The Rule. Right. I smile back at him and wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him close to me. “Don’t worry, Mitchel,” I begin, bringing my lips close to his ear, “No matter how hot this guy is, he still isn’t you.”
Mitchel just shakes his head, giving me a slight push towards the set. Jazz is still watching us, but looks away the moment I turn my head towards him. There’s a guilty blush on his face that’s utterly adorable and I can’t help smirking at him, too.
“You’ve read over the ‘script,’ right?” I ask him, picking up the lab coat placed over the office chair. I’m supposed to play the role of the devastated new surgeon who had just lost their first patient. Jazz role is to provide me with “comfort.” Sexy, unbelievably fucking hot comfort.
Not the most original thing ever, but hey, who really gives a shit? All people are gonna care about is how hard I fuck Jazz as he --
“I have,” Jazz answers, his voice breaking through my thoughts. He takes an unsure step towards me, biting his lip as he brushes his hair out of his beautiful blue eyes. “Is -- is Mitchel your --”
“Boyfriend?” I finish for him, giving him a disarming smile as I notice Mitchel getting the camera set up in front of us. Jazz nods, a slight frown on his face. “Yeah, he is.”
“Is he really okay with you...?” Jazz can’t seem to finish that question, not with how red his face gets all over again. He tugs on the hem of his skirt -- and I can’t help taking the opportunity to really study his legs and think of how desperately I want to be between them.
Without thinking, I pull Jazz close, my hand slipping down to his ass and giving it a brief squeeze. Jazz yelps, his face turning the deepest shade of scarlet I’ve ever seen. “He finds it incredibly hot to watch me fuck other people -- both men and women. And you? Well...” I lean forward, letting my lips brush just under Jazz’s ear. “I have a feeling if he were comfortable being on the other side of the camera, he’d offer to take my place in a heartbeat.”
I smirk as I let Jazz go -- it’s hard to miss how easily I’ve made him “spring” into action. I can see Mitchel shaking his head out of the corner of my eye, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. I settle onto the small bed that’s supposed to be in the on-call room, slipping my fake glasses over my eyes. I never wear my actual glasses on set -- too easy to knock them off my face in the middle of the act. Too easy to break them -- Mitchel and I found that out the hard way.
“Savin, if you’re done teasing your co-star, I would like to get this show started,” Mitchel purrs from in front of me. I flash him a grin before nodding my head and trying to sober up my expression. I need to look upset, after all. “Jazz -- just so that you have some warning, Savin very rarely follows the script. Especially when he’s ah, excited. Feel free to ad-lib along with him.”
“A-Alright,” Jazz murmurs, fidgeting on his feet and tugging down his skirt. I wish he wouldn’t do that -- it just draws my attention to his hands. Hands that are gonna be all over me in a few more minutes -- running down my chest and stomach, moving even closer to my --
I give myself a slight shake and give Mitchel a nod as I recline on the bed, hands behind my head as I turn my eyes towards the ceiling of our small studio. How many films have we made now? The thought almost brings a smile to my lips before I remind myself that I’m supposed to be solemn. Damn near in tears.
Think of something depressing, Savin. I force a frown -- try to think back to something that made me tear up. Try to put myself in the shoes of an actual young surgeon who just lost their first patient -- anything, really.
I must have found the right expression because Mitchel quietly calls action. I run the dialogue over in my head. It’s supposed to take maybe five minutes from the second Jazz walks in to where clothes start getting removed. I close my eyes, try to keep myself looking defeated. Even sigh as I fiddle with my tie -- a tie I hope Jazz can take off nearly as expertly as Mitchel will, later.
I try not to think about that as I hear the “door” open and the soft clack of Jazz’s pumps on the set floor. He really does look amazing in that outfit, with how perfectly tapered his legs are -- especially for a guy. He gives me a sympathetic look -- says his line with a level of sincerity that most viewers of this little show are gonna ignore, likely fast-forwarding until he climbs into my lap and --
I stop that thought and murmur a response. As I put my head in my hands and run my fingers through my hair, I force my voice to shake. The lines are irrelevant -- it’s all the same overly dramatic bullshit in every porn ever, but I have a lot of fun coming up with them on the fly.
Apparently, Jazz does, too. He sits down beside me, his own voice shaking as he says his next line -- a totally unscripted one. He even leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he speaks. I don’t even hear the words, not with his breath hot against my skin.
“Right, doctor?” Jazz prompts, running his hands over my shoulders. He gives me a slight smile -- one that looks pained.
“Of course,” I murmur, frowning to myself. I know I shouldn’t kiss him yet. Not yet. Need to give it a little more time. So instead, I place my hand just on the inside of his thigh, trailing my fingers upward. Jazz reacts spectacularly, a quiet gasp escaping him as I continue to touch him, even as I force out my next line. “I just -- can’t believe that my patient is -- is --”
Jazz’s fingers are on my lips, effectively silencing me and totally getting me ready to go with one small move. He moves in closer, leaning against me -- and he trails his foot up my leg as he pulls his fingers away from my lips. “I know what I can do to help you forget -- to help us both forget,” he breathes. We lock eyes just as my fingers stop at the hem of his skirt. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks.
“And what’s that?” I counter. As if on autopilot, we’re both leaning in.
Jazz knows just what the hell he’s doing as he grabs my hand on his thigh and directs it even further up his skirt. My fingers brush against the fabric of his underwear -- lacy underwear. Should have fucking known Mitchel would put him in women’s underwear just for me. “I think you know what I mean, Doctor,” he says with a moan.
Fuck the script. Fuck how long we should stretch this out. Mitchel doesn’t say anything -- doesn’t stop us as I grab Jazz’s chin with my free hand and rub his crotch with the other. Our lips meet in an almost desperate kiss. Have to remember to make it showy for the audience -- though with the way Jazz’s tongue runs along my own, I totally don’t think I need to worry about that.
The kiss is fucking electrifying. The kid totally knows what he’s doing, and I’m hard again in an instant and aching to have that wonderful mouth of his around me. If he’s this good with his tongue now, I can only imagine how it’d feel along my cock.
Jazz’s hands trail over my shoulders and along my chest, just as I imagined they would. They even move down my clothed stomach, landing on the zipper of my pants. The whole time, we’re still making out, both of us running out of breath quickly.
Jazz is the one to break the kiss first. Those blue eyes of his twinkle mischievously as he unzips my fly. He even licks his lips as he pulls me free. Even though I know I’m supposed to keep talking at this point, I’m not sure my planned line even makes it to my lips as his wrap around me. I almost forget Mitchel is filming us until the camera moves in closer, watching Jazz’s every move as I bury my fingers in his hair.
Christ, each showy bob of his head is almost too much. I wonder if Mitchel’ll let me come twice on film -- we can make a film that long, right? I wanna come all over Jazz’s pretty face -- and I’m sure the audience would love that, too. I flick my eyes over to Mitchel and give him a questioning look.
The bastard smirks at me and it looks like he’s just gonna shake his head for a moment, but then he gives me a slight nod. I throw my head back, moaning a little louder and tightening my grip on Jazz’s hair. I mutter something dirty to him, spur him to suck me harder. Except the kid just teases my tip with his tongue. It’s driving me absolutely nuts.
Two can play at that game. With the way Jazz is positioned on the bed, I can reach around him, flip up his skirt all while he continues to give me head. That ass of his, in lacy women’s underwear? It’s fucking perfect. I thought Mitchel had a nice ass, but Jazz’s is just -- perfection. I reach under him as best I can, trying to tease him through the thin pair of panties.
Whatever I’m doing must have worked, because he lets out a nice, loud moan around me, all while sucking harder. Guess he decided that teasing me was too much work -- especially when I’m just teasing him back, my fingers now slipping under the edge of his panties and teasing his entrance. I’m sure Mitchel’s cursing me, but he hasn’t stopped us yet, so I haven’t pissed him off too much.
Jazz seems to know exactly what I want to do, because he suddenly stops sucking me off and begins to run his hand along my cock. I’m already close, each stroke of his fingers just bringing me to the very edge. In retaliation, I push the tip of my finger inside him, and he gasps, groaning as he moves against my hand.
When I come, I direct it as best I can all over his face. I stop teasing him with my hand, trying to take a moment to catch my breath and to let him clean off his face once Mitchel turns off the camera. The bastard’s smirking at me as he offers Jazz a towel.
“We’ll resume shooting in a few moments,” he says, directing his attention to Jazz. “I have a feeling Savin has every intention to continue teasing you for quite some time.”
Jazz pulls the towel away from his face, and it’s an even darker shade of red than it was a moment ago. “T-Tease me how?” he squeaks. It’s utterly fucking adorable and I almost push him back down onto the bed and show him just what Mitchel means.
Except I’ll have plenty of time to do that, once Mitchel gets the camera rolling again. Instead of answering him, Mitchel then steps over to me and grips my chin roughly. The kiss he gives me? Totally possessive and jealous, and it’s utterly amazing. I have a feeling that it won’t matter how totally wiped I am when we get home tonight, Mitchel’s gonna make sure I know that I’m his.
When Mitchel pulls away, he still has that insufferable smirk on his face. “I’ll leave you two alone, now, so Savin can show you just what I mean,” he purrs, settling back into place with his camera. “Savin?”
“Yes?” I ask, straightening my tie.
“Please keep the Rule in mind, will you?” he asks, his smirk faltering somewhat. “I wouldn’t want to put an end to your fun.”
I nod, straightening my tie. Just as Mitchel says the word, I pull Jazz close to me. He’s more than ready to go, after all. As exhausting as it is to continue, I know I can totally focus on him, just for the time being. The kiss alone tells me just how desperate he is to get off.
Too bad I won’t be letting him do that until I’m inside him, giving him all I’ve fucking got.
I start kissing his neck instead, my hands flipping up his skirt and running all over his ass and crotch. I can’t tell if he’s exaggerating his moans or not, but either way, it’s totally fucking hot. I let my hands crawl up his shirt, quickly disposing of it. The skirt is staying. Might even let the panties stay, too, and just pull them aside when I’m ready to.
I have him pushed underneath me on the small bed in seconds, and I try to keep the audience in mind as I make my way down his chest. He doesn’t seem to like being bitten, but his nipples? Fucking Christ, it’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy whose nipples were this sensitive. Teasing him’s gonna be a piece of cake.
I have to be careful, though. Don’t wanna break the Rule. Just gotta tease him long and hard enough to get myself ready to go another time. While I would love to hear Jazz beg for it -- especially with how loud he is now that my hand tugs him free from his panties. I wrap my fingers around him, stroking him slowly.
Jazz is completely and utterly amazing to watch. My fingers don’t relent, sliding along his cock in a way that must be driving him entirely insane. Jazz grasps the sheets of the bed and writhes.
I want him close. I hope he’s one of those who says they’re about to come -- since we are filming, he likely will. He seems to know just the sort of things the audience wants to see and hear.
At some point, his panties are tossed to the side and I can feel his whole body tense as he gets close. Just as it looks like he can’t take it anymore, I let go of his cock and spread his legs wide. I want to run my tongue along his ass, tease his entrance with it and make him ache for any part of me to be inside of him.
The whine that escapes him when I stop jerking him off? Utterly perfect. The breathy moan when my tongue traces down the length of his cock to his ass? Even better. As I start to twirl my tongue around the tight ring of muscle, I can see the camera coming even closer to us. Have to do this just right -- get Jazz panting.
And he does. This can’t just be him putting on a show, either, not the way his hand digs into my hair and pulls me even closer to him. When I start fingering him while sucking him off shallowly, he can’t seem to hold back at all. Which is good, because I’m almost ready to go again.
Jazz’s hands tear at my scalp, causing me to moan around him myself. Christ, I would give anything to have time with this kid without Mitchel taping us. I’d love to have Mitchel actually join in. The thought of Mitchel behind me, feeling me up while I do everything in my power to get Jazz as close to the edge without letting him go over? Takes my fucking breath away and makes these damn pants of mine way too fucking tight.
The thought of an actual threesome with Jazz is all I can focus on for a few minutes before I stop sucking him off long enough to watch his face. Mitchel’s hot, but Jazz is utterly beautiful for a guy. And he’s still in the skirt, it bunched around his waist and I think of how I ache to be between his legs and giving him all that I’ve got.
He’s getting close again, the way his thighs are tensing around me. He’s incredibly loud, too, as my fingers strike his spot repeatedly. Not much longer now... just a little more, and --
“P-Please, Doctor,” Jazz begs, his voice shrill and uncontrolled. “Just fuck me already!”
I stop everything all at once. He begged. He begged. Pleaded like it was the last thing he needed in this fucking world, and --
It takes all of my willpower not to look over at Mitchel -- to not give him an apologetic smile as I shuck off my pants and climb between Jazz’s legs. He begged for me to fuck him. I could tease longer, could deny his request, but --
He’s not Mitchel. I’d totally do that with Mitchel. Can’t do that with my co-star, no matter how much I may fucking want to. Takes all but a moment for me to spread his legs wide enough, skirt barely covering him as I enter him carefully.
I almost flip him onto his front -- I wanna watch myself penetrate him over and over, want to make sure that if he begs again, it’s difficult for Mitchel to hear. But for now, I’m so focused on how tight he is and how his back is arched.
If I thought he was loud before, it’s nothing compared to how loud he is now. It doesn’t take long before I decide I’m flipping him onto his stomach anyway. The skirt just covers his ass so I don’t need to push it back out of the way when I resume fucking him as hard as I possibly can.
My nails dig into his hips as he gasps and writhes. I think he might even be begging for me to pound him even harder, but I can’t be sure. Don’t wanna be sure -- I’m sure Mitchel’ll tell me if Jazz did or not.
I did unintentionally break the Rule, after all.
Try not to think about that as I start to get close for the third time that day. Try not to think at all while I reach around Jazz’s front and begin to stroke him in time with my thrusts. I can feel him tighten around me now, how he’s practically breathless as he tries to match my pace.
When he comes, it’s with one of the loudest cries I’ve ever heard, and the way his whole body tenses is completely and utterly amazing. I come not long after him, totally spent.
“Good job, you two,” Mitchel murmurs, snapping me out of my daze. His tone is light, but it hides a heavy edge to it. He isn’t looking at me at all -- not that I expected him to, after I accidentally made Jazz beg. I move away from Jazz entirely, pulling my pants back over my hips.
When Mitchel refuses to look at me for longer than five minutes, I know I’m fucking in for it on our way home.
***
“Did you have fun this afternoon?” Mitchel asks nonchalantly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel of the car.
I stiffen in the passenger seat, refusing to look over at him. We had dropped Jazz off not that long ago, and things had been quiet in the car ever since. Never a good fucking sign. “I did,” I answer, keeping my voice low. Maybe if I sound guilty about how much fun I did have, he’ll let me off easy.
“Clearly,” he snorts, frowning to himself. “I’m certain it was not your intent to get Jazz to beg for it.”
“But...?” I prompt, smiling at him warily. There’s always a but when he makes assumptions about my intent -- not that he’s wrong, right now. The bastard usually isn’t.
“Your future request for a threesome is denied,” he says, turning to smirk at me.
My shoulders immediately relax as I chuckle quietly to myself in relief. “Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” I mutter, lightly crossing my arms over my chest. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me?”
Mitchel snickers, flashing a smile in my direction. “Of course not, Doctor. If you hadn’t listened to him and made him beg harder, I might have been, but since you performed his request right away...”
I let out the breath I had been holding slowly, running my fingers through my hair. “Can we ask him to come back for another video, then?” I ask despite myself.
Mitchel shakes his head, his slight smile still there. “Perhaps.”
I grin to myself and lean back into my seat, closing my eyes. “You really want to fuck him yourself, don’t you?”
“He’s rather...vocal,” Mitchel says after a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. “Also, if you’re on your best behavior, I might entertain the idea of a threesome after all.”
“I like the sound of that,” I whisper, taking hold of Mitchel’s hand and giving it a squeeze as he continues to drive. He squeezes back, keeping his eyes on the road.
I think I just might know how we make this relationship of ours work....
Today’s gonna be a great fucking day. No, make that an awesome day. It’s always an awesome day when Mitchel and I have a job to do. We’re on our way to the studio now -- though we still have to pick up our latest find along the way. This totally cute kid, maybe twenty years old. Blond, blue eyes. Perfectly round ass.
“You’re already thinking about our shoot today, aren’t you?” Mitchel asks, lightly dragging his fingers along the inside of my thigh as I drive.
I smile sheepishly at him. “And if I am?”
“Save some of that enthusiasm for later, Savin,” he murmurs. He looks right at me, as if he were trying to read what the hell’s going on inside my head. Worst part is? The bastard’s usually fucking right. I both love and hate that about him. And I especially hate that his insanely perfect fingers are now teasing me through my jeans. It makes it all the more difficult to focus on driving. “You know how I like to play with you myself after we’re done filming...”
“Speaking of filming -- are you sure you don’t wanna put this kid in a skirt?” I ask, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. I have to keep my eyes from drifting closed as he continues to rub his hand against me. Fucking Christ, we’re gonna have to stop before we even pick this kid up, aren’t we?
“Why a skirt?” Mitchel counters, his hand finally moving away from my lap. It’s all I can do to not groan in disappointment when he does.
“Have you seen this kid’s legs?” He totally can’t be serious right now -- Mitchel picked this kid because he knows how much he fits my type. “They’re made for showing off -- also, if we put him in a skirt I can fuck him while he’s still wearing it.”
Mitchel seems impressed with this idea. After all, the kid’s his type, too. How the fuck we ended up together, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because the bastard has this way of pushing my buttons -- and now I’m pushing his by making him think of me pounding into that blond kid with everything I got.
“Pull over.”
Mitchel’s words are an order I simply can’t ignore. I find the nearest parking lot and shut off the engine just as Mitchel’s climbing over the middle console to straddle my lap, grinding against me. “You really want to fuck this kid, don’t you?” he breathes against my neck.
I shiver, letting my eyes roll back as I recline the seat as much as I can. He knows what talking like that does to me. His hands are sliding up my shirt, pushing it away as he kisses his way down my chest. Broad fucking daylight -- which just only makes this whole thing that much hotter.
“H-Hey, if I’m gonna -- gonna give this kid all I’ve got today during filming...” I groan, throwing my head back and letting my own hands crawl up the back of his shirt.
Mitchel smirks at me, rolling his hips expertly. “I want you to last a while on set today,” he murmurs, his fingers deftly undoing my zipper and pulling me free of my jeans. “And I want you to think of me while you’re fucking him. How tight I am compared to him -- how my fingers are compared to his...”
Nothing can compare to Mitchel’s fingers. They’re fucking amazing, perfectly maintained and my breathing’s gone so shallow I’m surprised I’m getting any air as he jerks me off. He’s already got me to the fucking edge, each stroke of his hand bringing me closer to it.
Mitchel repositions himself back in his seat, bending over so he can swallow my cock just as I’m about to come. His tongue is as precise as his hands. Hate the fact that the bastard totally knows what he’s doing. Just as he takes all of me in, I can’t hold back anymore, a sharp cry escaping my lips as my hands bury themselves in his hair.
“Fuck,” I gasp as he pulls away from me, that annoyingly self-satisfied smirk of his firmly planted on his face. “How the hell do you expect me to drive after that?”
“I don’t,” he answers, chuckling quietly to himself. He opens the passenger side door and slips out of it just as I’m tucking myself back into my jeans, still breathing heavy. I take a moment to try and catch my breath before opening my door and wandering around to the other side of the car.
Even as Mitchel pulls the car back onto the road, I still can’t quite forget the feel of his mouth around me. How the hell is he so good at that? Or at anything else he does to me?
I can only hope that this kid doesn’t tire me out as much as Mitchel does.
***
Okay, this just isn’t fair.
The kid? Goes by the name Jazz. And he really is barely twenty years old. Five years younger than me -- nearly ten years younger than Mitchel. And he’s more than just adorable -- he’s fucking adorable. Christ, one look at me and the kid nearly turned bright red.
Which is a good thing, I guess. Not having to fake sexual attraction definitely makes the job a whole lot easier. I’m almost disappointed when Mitchel pulls Jazz away from me. Even give him a guilty smile when he narrows his eyes at me over his shoulder. Of course he’s jealous. He always is at first.
But then he gets to direct everything I do to my co-star -- gets to direct everything they do to me. And then we go home and he calls the shots there, too. Sometimes, though, he lets me just do what I want -- and when I see Jazz walking out onto the set in a short as hell skirt and pumps, I have a feeling this is gonna be one of those times.
I’m so busy staring at Jazz’s legs and the way that nurse’s “dress” hardly covers his ass when Mitchel puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump. “The nurse is ready for you, doctor,” he breathes in my ear. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“You really wanna watch me fuck the shit out of him, don’t you?” I mutter back, my hand straightening the knot to my tie. Mitchel notices and snorts, his fingers batting mine away and fixing the knot with practiced ease.
“The two of you make an attractive pair, so yes,” he answers, his face completely and utterly composed. His eyes drift upwards to mine, a slight smirk overtaking his features. “You’re allowed to direct the show today -- I get the distinct feeling you would simply ignore any of my orders, anyway.”
I grin at him, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m sorry. He’s fucking hot, okay?” I say, making sure to keep my voice low.
“I’m well aware,” he murmurs, letting his hands fall away from my tie. Before I can say anything in response, he then yanks me forward by my tie, smashing his lips against my own. Totally made my difficult situation even harder, as I can see Jazz watching us as Mitchel breaks the kiss. “Do what you like to him -- just don’t break the Rule, Savin.”
The Rule. Right. I smile back at him and wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him close to me. “Don’t worry, Mitchel,” I begin, bringing my lips close to his ear, “No matter how hot this guy is, he still isn’t you.”
Mitchel just shakes his head, giving me a slight push towards the set. Jazz is still watching us, but looks away the moment I turn my head towards him. There’s a guilty blush on his face that’s utterly adorable and I can’t help smirking at him, too.
“You’ve read over the ‘script,’ right?” I ask him, picking up the lab coat placed over the office chair. I’m supposed to play the role of the devastated new surgeon who had just lost their first patient. Jazz role is to provide me with “comfort.” Sexy, unbelievably fucking hot comfort.
Not the most original thing ever, but hey, who really gives a shit? All people are gonna care about is how hard I fuck Jazz as he --
“I have,” Jazz answers, his voice breaking through my thoughts. He takes an unsure step towards me, biting his lip as he brushes his hair out of his beautiful blue eyes. “Is -- is Mitchel your --”
“Boyfriend?” I finish for him, giving him a disarming smile as I notice Mitchel getting the camera set up in front of us. Jazz nods, a slight frown on his face. “Yeah, he is.”
“Is he really okay with you...?” Jazz can’t seem to finish that question, not with how red his face gets all over again. He tugs on the hem of his skirt -- and I can’t help taking the opportunity to really study his legs and think of how desperately I want to be between them.
Without thinking, I pull Jazz close, my hand slipping down to his ass and giving it a brief squeeze. Jazz yelps, his face turning the deepest shade of scarlet I’ve ever seen. “He finds it incredibly hot to watch me fuck other people -- both men and women. And you? Well...” I lean forward, letting my lips brush just under Jazz’s ear. “I have a feeling if he were comfortable being on the other side of the camera, he’d offer to take my place in a heartbeat.”
I smirk as I let Jazz go -- it’s hard to miss how easily I’ve made him “spring” into action. I can see Mitchel shaking his head out of the corner of my eye, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. I settle onto the small bed that’s supposed to be in the on-call room, slipping my fake glasses over my eyes. I never wear my actual glasses on set -- too easy to knock them off my face in the middle of the act. Too easy to break them -- Mitchel and I found that out the hard way.
“Savin, if you’re done teasing your co-star, I would like to get this show started,” Mitchel purrs from in front of me. I flash him a grin before nodding my head and trying to sober up my expression. I need to look upset, after all. “Jazz -- just so that you have some warning, Savin very rarely follows the script. Especially when he’s ah, excited. Feel free to ad-lib along with him.”
“A-Alright,” Jazz murmurs, fidgeting on his feet and tugging down his skirt. I wish he wouldn’t do that -- it just draws my attention to his hands. Hands that are gonna be all over me in a few more minutes -- running down my chest and stomach, moving even closer to my --
I give myself a slight shake and give Mitchel a nod as I recline on the bed, hands behind my head as I turn my eyes towards the ceiling of our small studio. How many films have we made now? The thought almost brings a smile to my lips before I remind myself that I’m supposed to be solemn. Damn near in tears.
Think of something depressing, Savin. I force a frown -- try to think back to something that made me tear up. Try to put myself in the shoes of an actual young surgeon who just lost their first patient -- anything, really.
I must have found the right expression because Mitchel quietly calls action. I run the dialogue over in my head. It’s supposed to take maybe five minutes from the second Jazz walks in to where clothes start getting removed. I close my eyes, try to keep myself looking defeated. Even sigh as I fiddle with my tie -- a tie I hope Jazz can take off nearly as expertly as Mitchel will, later.
I try not to think about that as I hear the “door” open and the soft clack of Jazz’s pumps on the set floor. He really does look amazing in that outfit, with how perfectly tapered his legs are -- especially for a guy. He gives me a sympathetic look -- says his line with a level of sincerity that most viewers of this little show are gonna ignore, likely fast-forwarding until he climbs into my lap and --
I stop that thought and murmur a response. As I put my head in my hands and run my fingers through my hair, I force my voice to shake. The lines are irrelevant -- it’s all the same overly dramatic bullshit in every porn ever, but I have a lot of fun coming up with them on the fly.
Apparently, Jazz does, too. He sits down beside me, his own voice shaking as he says his next line -- a totally unscripted one. He even leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he speaks. I don’t even hear the words, not with his breath hot against my skin.
“Right, doctor?” Jazz prompts, running his hands over my shoulders. He gives me a slight smile -- one that looks pained.
“Of course,” I murmur, frowning to myself. I know I shouldn’t kiss him yet. Not yet. Need to give it a little more time. So instead, I place my hand just on the inside of his thigh, trailing my fingers upward. Jazz reacts spectacularly, a quiet gasp escaping him as I continue to touch him, even as I force out my next line. “I just -- can’t believe that my patient is -- is --”
Jazz’s fingers are on my lips, effectively silencing me and totally getting me ready to go with one small move. He moves in closer, leaning against me -- and he trails his foot up my leg as he pulls his fingers away from my lips. “I know what I can do to help you forget -- to help us both forget,” he breathes. We lock eyes just as my fingers stop at the hem of his skirt. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks.
“And what’s that?” I counter. As if on autopilot, we’re both leaning in.
Jazz knows just what the hell he’s doing as he grabs my hand on his thigh and directs it even further up his skirt. My fingers brush against the fabric of his underwear -- lacy underwear. Should have fucking known Mitchel would put him in women’s underwear just for me. “I think you know what I mean, Doctor,” he says with a moan.
Fuck the script. Fuck how long we should stretch this out. Mitchel doesn’t say anything -- doesn’t stop us as I grab Jazz’s chin with my free hand and rub his crotch with the other. Our lips meet in an almost desperate kiss. Have to remember to make it showy for the audience -- though with the way Jazz’s tongue runs along my own, I totally don’t think I need to worry about that.
The kiss is fucking electrifying. The kid totally knows what he’s doing, and I’m hard again in an instant and aching to have that wonderful mouth of his around me. If he’s this good with his tongue now, I can only imagine how it’d feel along my cock.
Jazz’s hands trail over my shoulders and along my chest, just as I imagined they would. They even move down my clothed stomach, landing on the zipper of my pants. The whole time, we’re still making out, both of us running out of breath quickly.
Jazz is the one to break the kiss first. Those blue eyes of his twinkle mischievously as he unzips my fly. He even licks his lips as he pulls me free. Even though I know I’m supposed to keep talking at this point, I’m not sure my planned line even makes it to my lips as his wrap around me. I almost forget Mitchel is filming us until the camera moves in closer, watching Jazz’s every move as I bury my fingers in his hair.
Christ, each showy bob of his head is almost too much. I wonder if Mitchel’ll let me come twice on film -- we can make a film that long, right? I wanna come all over Jazz’s pretty face -- and I’m sure the audience would love that, too. I flick my eyes over to Mitchel and give him a questioning look.
The bastard smirks at me and it looks like he’s just gonna shake his head for a moment, but then he gives me a slight nod. I throw my head back, moaning a little louder and tightening my grip on Jazz’s hair. I mutter something dirty to him, spur him to suck me harder. Except the kid just teases my tip with his tongue. It’s driving me absolutely nuts.
Two can play at that game. With the way Jazz is positioned on the bed, I can reach around him, flip up his skirt all while he continues to give me head. That ass of his, in lacy women’s underwear? It’s fucking perfect. I thought Mitchel had a nice ass, but Jazz’s is just -- perfection. I reach under him as best I can, trying to tease him through the thin pair of panties.
Whatever I’m doing must have worked, because he lets out a nice, loud moan around me, all while sucking harder. Guess he decided that teasing me was too much work -- especially when I’m just teasing him back, my fingers now slipping under the edge of his panties and teasing his entrance. I’m sure Mitchel’s cursing me, but he hasn’t stopped us yet, so I haven’t pissed him off too much.
Jazz seems to know exactly what I want to do, because he suddenly stops sucking me off and begins to run his hand along my cock. I’m already close, each stroke of his fingers just bringing me to the very edge. In retaliation, I push the tip of my finger inside him, and he gasps, groaning as he moves against my hand.
When I come, I direct it as best I can all over his face. I stop teasing him with my hand, trying to take a moment to catch my breath and to let him clean off his face once Mitchel turns off the camera. The bastard’s smirking at me as he offers Jazz a towel.
“We’ll resume shooting in a few moments,” he says, directing his attention to Jazz. “I have a feeling Savin has every intention to continue teasing you for quite some time.”
Jazz pulls the towel away from his face, and it’s an even darker shade of red than it was a moment ago. “T-Tease me how?” he squeaks. It’s utterly fucking adorable and I almost push him back down onto the bed and show him just what Mitchel means.
Except I’ll have plenty of time to do that, once Mitchel gets the camera rolling again. Instead of answering him, Mitchel then steps over to me and grips my chin roughly. The kiss he gives me? Totally possessive and jealous, and it’s utterly amazing. I have a feeling that it won’t matter how totally wiped I am when we get home tonight, Mitchel’s gonna make sure I know that I’m his.
When Mitchel pulls away, he still has that insufferable smirk on his face. “I’ll leave you two alone, now, so Savin can show you just what I mean,” he purrs, settling back into place with his camera. “Savin?”
“Yes?” I ask, straightening my tie.
“Please keep the Rule in mind, will you?” he asks, his smirk faltering somewhat. “I wouldn’t want to put an end to your fun.”
I nod, straightening my tie. Just as Mitchel says the word, I pull Jazz close to me. He’s more than ready to go, after all. As exhausting as it is to continue, I know I can totally focus on him, just for the time being. The kiss alone tells me just how desperate he is to get off.
Too bad I won’t be letting him do that until I’m inside him, giving him all I’ve fucking got.
I start kissing his neck instead, my hands flipping up his skirt and running all over his ass and crotch. I can’t tell if he’s exaggerating his moans or not, but either way, it’s totally fucking hot. I let my hands crawl up his shirt, quickly disposing of it. The skirt is staying. Might even let the panties stay, too, and just pull them aside when I’m ready to.
I have him pushed underneath me on the small bed in seconds, and I try to keep the audience in mind as I make my way down his chest. He doesn’t seem to like being bitten, but his nipples? Fucking Christ, it’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy whose nipples were this sensitive. Teasing him’s gonna be a piece of cake.
I have to be careful, though. Don’t wanna break the Rule. Just gotta tease him long and hard enough to get myself ready to go another time. While I would love to hear Jazz beg for it -- especially with how loud he is now that my hand tugs him free from his panties. I wrap my fingers around him, stroking him slowly.
Jazz is completely and utterly amazing to watch. My fingers don’t relent, sliding along his cock in a way that must be driving him entirely insane. Jazz grasps the sheets of the bed and writhes.
I want him close. I hope he’s one of those who says they’re about to come -- since we are filming, he likely will. He seems to know just the sort of things the audience wants to see and hear.
At some point, his panties are tossed to the side and I can feel his whole body tense as he gets close. Just as it looks like he can’t take it anymore, I let go of his cock and spread his legs wide. I want to run my tongue along his ass, tease his entrance with it and make him ache for any part of me to be inside of him.
The whine that escapes him when I stop jerking him off? Utterly perfect. The breathy moan when my tongue traces down the length of his cock to his ass? Even better. As I start to twirl my tongue around the tight ring of muscle, I can see the camera coming even closer to us. Have to do this just right -- get Jazz panting.
And he does. This can’t just be him putting on a show, either, not the way his hand digs into my hair and pulls me even closer to him. When I start fingering him while sucking him off shallowly, he can’t seem to hold back at all. Which is good, because I’m almost ready to go again.
Jazz’s hands tear at my scalp, causing me to moan around him myself. Christ, I would give anything to have time with this kid without Mitchel taping us. I’d love to have Mitchel actually join in. The thought of Mitchel behind me, feeling me up while I do everything in my power to get Jazz as close to the edge without letting him go over? Takes my fucking breath away and makes these damn pants of mine way too fucking tight.
The thought of an actual threesome with Jazz is all I can focus on for a few minutes before I stop sucking him off long enough to watch his face. Mitchel’s hot, but Jazz is utterly beautiful for a guy. And he’s still in the skirt, it bunched around his waist and I think of how I ache to be between his legs and giving him all that I’ve got.
He’s getting close again, the way his thighs are tensing around me. He’s incredibly loud, too, as my fingers strike his spot repeatedly. Not much longer now... just a little more, and --
“P-Please, Doctor,” Jazz begs, his voice shrill and uncontrolled. “Just fuck me already!”
I stop everything all at once. He begged. He begged. Pleaded like it was the last thing he needed in this fucking world, and --
It takes all of my willpower not to look over at Mitchel -- to not give him an apologetic smile as I shuck off my pants and climb between Jazz’s legs. He begged for me to fuck him. I could tease longer, could deny his request, but --
He’s not Mitchel. I’d totally do that with Mitchel. Can’t do that with my co-star, no matter how much I may fucking want to. Takes all but a moment for me to spread his legs wide enough, skirt barely covering him as I enter him carefully.
I almost flip him onto his front -- I wanna watch myself penetrate him over and over, want to make sure that if he begs again, it’s difficult for Mitchel to hear. But for now, I’m so focused on how tight he is and how his back is arched.
If I thought he was loud before, it’s nothing compared to how loud he is now. It doesn’t take long before I decide I’m flipping him onto his stomach anyway. The skirt just covers his ass so I don’t need to push it back out of the way when I resume fucking him as hard as I possibly can.
My nails dig into his hips as he gasps and writhes. I think he might even be begging for me to pound him even harder, but I can’t be sure. Don’t wanna be sure -- I’m sure Mitchel’ll tell me if Jazz did or not.
I did unintentionally break the Rule, after all.
Try not to think about that as I start to get close for the third time that day. Try not to think at all while I reach around Jazz’s front and begin to stroke him in time with my thrusts. I can feel him tighten around me now, how he’s practically breathless as he tries to match my pace.
When he comes, it’s with one of the loudest cries I’ve ever heard, and the way his whole body tenses is completely and utterly amazing. I come not long after him, totally spent.
“Good job, you two,” Mitchel murmurs, snapping me out of my daze. His tone is light, but it hides a heavy edge to it. He isn’t looking at me at all -- not that I expected him to, after I accidentally made Jazz beg. I move away from Jazz entirely, pulling my pants back over my hips.
When Mitchel refuses to look at me for longer than five minutes, I know I’m fucking in for it on our way home.
***
“Did you have fun this afternoon?” Mitchel asks nonchalantly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel of the car.
I stiffen in the passenger seat, refusing to look over at him. We had dropped Jazz off not that long ago, and things had been quiet in the car ever since. Never a good fucking sign. “I did,” I answer, keeping my voice low. Maybe if I sound guilty about how much fun I did have, he’ll let me off easy.
“Clearly,” he snorts, frowning to himself. “I’m certain it was not your intent to get Jazz to beg for it.”
“But...?” I prompt, smiling at him warily. There’s always a but when he makes assumptions about my intent -- not that he’s wrong, right now. The bastard usually isn’t.
“Your future request for a threesome is denied,” he says, turning to smirk at me.
My shoulders immediately relax as I chuckle quietly to myself in relief. “Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” I mutter, lightly crossing my arms over my chest. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me?”
Mitchel snickers, flashing a smile in my direction. “Of course not, Doctor. If you hadn’t listened to him and made him beg harder, I might have been, but since you performed his request right away...”
I let out the breath I had been holding slowly, running my fingers through my hair. “Can we ask him to come back for another video, then?” I ask despite myself.
Mitchel shakes his head, his slight smile still there. “Perhaps.”
I grin to myself and lean back into my seat, closing my eyes. “You really want to fuck him yourself, don’t you?”
“He’s rather...vocal,” Mitchel says after a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. “Also, if you’re on your best behavior, I might entertain the idea of a threesome after all.”
“I like the sound of that,” I whisper, taking hold of Mitchel’s hand and giving it a squeeze as he continues to drive. He squeezes back, keeping his eyes on the road.
I think I just might know how we make this relationship of ours work....