I stepped away from Felix with deliberate slowness, my fingers trailing across his trembling skin one final time before I released him entirely to stand exposed in the firelight. The warmth from the chimney cast dancing shadows across his pale body, highlighting every shudder that ran through his delicate frame.
Then, without warning or pretense—because where was the fun in telegraphing my intentions?—I slipped onto the couch beside Lloyd, the velvet cushions sighing beneath my weight as I invaded his personal space with shameless confidence.
A giggle bubbled from my throat, bright with mischief, as Lloyd flinched at my sudden proximity. His breath hitched audibly, the sound catching in his chest like he’d forgotten the mechanics of respiration, his entire body going taut as I curled myself closer against his side.
The heat radiating from him was immediate and unmistakable, his body practically vibrating with tension as I pressed my bare skin to his clothed form, letting him feel every inch of soft flesh molding against the hardened muscle beneath his vest.
"Relax," I purred into the space between us, my voice dropping into that register I reserved for coaxing nervous prey into lowering their guard. My hand settled on his chest with feather-light pressure, fingers splayed across the fabric of his shirt where I could feel his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape. "You’re so tense it’s making me anxious, which is quite the accomplishment considering I’m the one who should be nervous about pleasing someone of your esteemed reputation."
The lie was so transparent it practically glowed, my smirk widening as I watched him process the obvious manipulation. His jaw worked silently, trying to formulate some response that wouldn’t give away just how affected he was by having a naked femboy draped across him like a particularly shameless house cat claiming ownership of the furniture.
I glanced toward Felix with deliberate casualness, one hand gesturing in languid invitation. "Don’t just stand there looking adorable. Come join us." My tone carried playful command wrapped in sweet encouragement, the kind that made refusal feel impossible.
Felix hesitated for exactly three heartbeats before his feet carried him forward with reluctant obedience. He moved like he was wading through honey, each step requiring conscious effort, his arms wrapping around himself in unconscious self-protection until he reached the couch.
When he finally settled on Lloyd’s opposite side, curling up against the man’s other flank, he looked like a frightened rabbit seeking warmth from something that might decide to eat it at any moment.
His hands clutched at Lloyd’s sleeve, knuckles white with the force of his grip, his face still burning that delicious shade of crimson.
Lloyd sat trapped between us, his expression cycling through several stages of internal crisis—attraction warring with self-preservation, professional detachment crumbling under the weight of two very naked, very willing bodies pressing against him from either side.
When he finally managed to speak, his voice came out rougher than intended, frayed at the edges like fabric worn thin from too much stress.
"This is..." He trailed off, struggling to articulate what was happening to him. His hands hovered in the air between us, uncertain where to land, unwilling to commit to touching either of us while simultaneously clearly desperate to do exactly that. "I don’t usually let myself..."
"Feel?" I finished for him with a grin that showed far too many teeth. "Oh Lloyd, you poor thing. All wrapped up in your professional reputation, so focused on being the respected estate developer that you forget you’re allowed to just want something without justifying it." My fingers began tracing idle patterns across his chest, drawing small circles and spirals through the fabric of his shirt, feeling the muscles jump beneath my touch with each pass. "It’s okay to admit you’re desperate for this. That having Felix’s sweet little body pressed against you is making you lose your mind. That you’ve been hard since the moment you saw him strip."
Lloyd made a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh or possibly the noise someone makes when their brain short-circuits from overstimulation. His composure was cracking, visible fissures appearing in the professional veneer he’d worn since entering the theater.
The flush that had started at his collar was creeping higher, painting his neck in shades of pink that darkened toward red, betraying exactly how much my proximity was affecting him despite his attempts at maintaining dignity.
"You’re incorrigible," he muttered, though the words lacked any real heat. If anything, they sounded almost fond beneath the exasperation, like he’d already accepted that fighting against the current would be pointless.
"Oh, you have no idea," I whispered, leaning closer until my lips brushed the shell of his ear, breath ghosting hot across sensitive skin. "Incorrigible is just the beginning. I’m also shameless, manipulative, absolutely terrible at respecting personal boundaries..."
My fingers trailed lower as I spoke, sliding down the solid plane of his chest with torturous slowness, taking my time to map every ridge of muscle through the increasingly bothersome barrier of his clothing.
I could feel him trembling now, tiny shivers running through his frame that had nothing to do with cold, his breathing growing shallower with each inch my hand descended. When my fingertips finally grazed the waistband of his pants, his entire body jerked like I’d applied electrical current directly to his nervous system.
"And very, very good at getting exactly what I want," I finished with a purr, my hand dipping lower still until my palm pressed against the obscene bulge straining his pants.
The fabric was pulled drum-tight over his erection, the outline of his cock clearly visible as it pulsed beneath my touch, already leaking enough that I could feel the damp spot spreading through the material.
Lloyd’s hips bucked involuntarily, a broken groan tearing from his throat as he thrust up into my hand without meaning to. The motion made his cock jump and strain like crazy beneath my palm.
"Oh my," I cooed with mock innocence, my smirk widening into something absolutely wicked. "Someone’s very excited." My fingers traced the outline of his erection through the fabric, following the thick shaft from base to tip, feeling it pulse and throb beneath my teasing touch. "Look at you, Lloyd. Already falling apart from just a little attention. What happens when I really start trying?"
Before he could formulate a response—before his brain could convince his mouth to produce words—I yanked his pants down with swift efficiency.
The thin fabric caught for one cruel second on the sharp jut of his hips before I tugged it down hard. Lloyd’s cock sprang free like a coiled beast finally unleashed—slamming upward with violent force to smack wetly against the pale plane of his stomach. The lewd, fleshy slap rang out in the hushed room, echoing off the walls like a filthy punctuation mark to his utter exposure.
I brought one hand to my mouth in theatrical surprise, eyes widening as I took in the sight before me. "Oh my gods," I breathed with exaggerated shock, though my gaze tracked over every inch of him with obvious appreciation.
Lloyd’s cock was a masterpiece of aggressive masculinity—slightly smaller than Brutus’s considerable length but thick enough to make up for the difference, the girth promising the kind of stretch that bordered on pain.
The shaft was flushed dark with arousal, veins standing out in stark relief along its length, pulsing visibly with each frantic beat of his heart. His head was swollen and angry-looking, the tip a deep crimson color that glistened wetly as another thick rope of pre-cum welled up and spilled over the flared ridge.
It clung there for a heartbeat, trembling, before gravity dragged it downward in a slow, viscous slide—thick enough to string between the head and his quivering abs in a glistening bridge before snapping and dripping onto his skin in warm, sticky trails that pooled in the dips of his navel.
Every tiny twitch of his cock sent another fresh bead bubbling up, the slit winking obscenely as though it were breathing, desperate to be sucked or fucked until he painted everything in sight with his shame.
Felix’s breathing went sporadic the instant Lloyd’s cock appeared, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps as his dark eyes blew impossibly wide.
Those delicate features went slack with shock, mouth falling open around a soundless gasp, his entire body freezing in place as he stared with the kind of horrified fascination people reserved for things they knew they shouldn’t want but couldn’t look away from.
Felix whimpered—a tiny, broken sound that was equal parts terror and reluctant arousal, his small hands clutching tighter at Lloyd’s sleeve like the fabric was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
I let out another giggle, this one edged with cruelty, my gaze flicking between Lloyd’s twitching cock and his face which had gone an absolutely delicious shade of mortified red.
"Look at you," I purred with filthy delight. "So hard it must hurt, leaking everywhere like you can’t control yourself. Does it feel good, Lloyd? Having us stare at your cock while it drools all over your stomach?"
His cock jumped at my words, pulsing so hard it bobbed in the air, another thick rope of pre-cum spilling from the tip to add to the mess already coating his lower abdomen. Every breath made it twitch, every teasing syllable that left my mouth caused visible throbs that ran through the thick shaft, his desperation painted across every inch of flushed skin.
I bit my own lip as my fingers finally made contact with his bare flesh, wrapping around his girth with delicate pressure. He was burning hot against my palm, practically radiating heat, the skin silky-smooth over steel-hard muscle as I gave him one slow, experimental stroke from root to tip.
My thumb swept deliberately across the weeping slit on the return, scooping up the fat, pearly bead of pre-cum that had already collected there—thick and warm, almost syrupy—then smeared it down the underside in a glossy streak.
The slick made my next stroke glide obscenely, wet schlicking sounds filling the air as I began to pump him properly. Slow, twisting pulls that squeezed just under the head on every upstroke, then looser drags back down to tease the heavy, drawn-up balls.
Lloyd’s reactions grew louder with each pass of my hand, his breathing dissolving into harsh pants punctuated by groans he could no longer suppress.
His head fell back against the couch, baring the long, vulnerable column of his throat bobbing frantically as he swallowed around the moans clawing up from his chest.
Sweat beaded along his collarbones and trickled down in thin, shining trails, pooling in the hollow of his sternum while his hips jerked upward in helpless little thrusts, fucking into my fist as pleasure overwhelmed whatever remained of his self-control.
"Fuck—fuck—that’s—oh saints—"
"What’s wrong?" I asked with false concern, my strokes remaining torturously slow despite his obvious need for more. "Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you’re just so overwhelmed by how good this feels that you’ve forgotten how words work?" My smile widened slightly. "Poor thing. Reduced to a whimpering mess so easily."
I increased my pace gradually, my fist pumping his length with practiced skill. "That’s it," I encouraged with filthy sweetness. "Get nice and worked up for me. Show Felix what happens when you let yourself feel good."
Lloyd’s hands finally moved with desperate insistence, reaching for both of us at once. His fingers sank into the soft flesh of my hip with bruising force while his other hand found Felix’s thigh, gripping hard enough to leave marks.
Felix sucked in a sharp, broken gasp at the contact, his entire body going rigid before melting into Lloyd’s touch. His face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, nipples tightening into painful little points as fresh shame and need flooded him.
His tiny cock, already flushed and slick from earlier, surged back to full, aching hardness against his belly, the flushed head weeping steady, pearly threads of pre-cum that pooled in his navel and dripped in slow, humiliating strings down his quivering skin.
The sight was devastatingly precious—fragile, desperate, utterly ruined—his poor little prick twitching with every ragged breath, begging without words for someone to touch it, ruin it, make it spill again while he whimpered and trembled.
I leaned in close to Lloyd’s ear, my voice dropping into something darker, more commanding. "You’re so close already, aren’t you? I can feel how your cock is pulsing in my hand, how your balls are drawing up tight. You want to cum so badly it’s making you shake." My strokes became faster, harder, my grip tightening as I worked him with ruthless efficiency. "So do it. Cum for me. Paint yourself with it. Show us what a desperate, needy mess you are."
Lloyd’s entire body went taut, every lean muscle snapping rigid at once, spine bowing off the couch in a violent arch. His head flung back so far the cords of his throat stood out like steel cables under his skin.
A guttural roar tore from his chest—raw, primal, and completely beyond his control. The sound echoed off the walls, bouncing back to us in waves that made Felix whimper in response.
His cock jerked violently in my hand, the shaft swelling impossibly thicker for one perfect, suspended moment. I could feel it pulse, could feel the cum traveling up his length in rhythmic contractions that made the thick vein running along the underside bulge and throb against my palm with each rhythmic contraction.
And then it happened.
The first rope of cum erupted from his tip with explosive violence, the pressure so intense it shot forward in a perfect arc that cleared the low table entirely before splattering against the floor beyond in thick, white ropes.
The second pulse followed immediately, just as powerful, painting another streak through the air as his hips bucked off the couch with enough force to nearly dislodge both Felix and me.
His cock continued to jerk and pulse, each contraction sending more cum arcing outward—some landing on the table, some reaching the floor, thick strands of it connecting the tip of his cock to where it pooled in glistening puddles that caught the firelight.
His entire body shook with the force of his release, thighs trembling, stomach muscles clenching and releasing in visible spasms, sweat breaking out across his forehead to mat his hair against his temples. His jaw locked open around groans that seemed torn from somewhere deep in his chest, completely beyond articulation.
I gripped his chin with my free hand, fingers digging into his jaw hard enough to bruise as I forced his head toward me. His eyes were unfocused, pupils blown so wide the color had nearly disappeared, his expression slack with overwhelming sensation.
Without even the slightest hint of warning, I crashed my mouth against his in a filthy kiss, swallowing the tail end of his groan as my tongue invaded immediately, licking into him with shameless aggression.
His cock continued to pulse in my still-stroking hand, weaker now but no less insistent, cum coating my fingers in thick streams that webbed between them when I adjusted my grip.
I could taste his desperation on his tongue, could feel the tremors running through his entire frame as aftershocks rolled through him in diminishing waves.
Then I pulled back just as suddenly as I’d initiated the kiss, releasing his chin and letting his head fall back against the couch.
He gasped for air like a drowning man breaking the surface, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His eyes remained glazed, unfocused, staring at nothing as he struggled to reassemble his scattered consciousness.
Just then, on pure instinct—driven by need he couldn’t articulate—Lloyd’s hand shot out to grip Felix’s head, fingers tangling in those golden locks before yanking him into a desperate kiss. Felix made a sound of utter surprise, his eyes flying wide as Lloyd’s mouth mashed against his, the man’s tongue forcing its way past his lips with insistent hunger.
For one heartbeat Felix resisted, his tiny hands pushing weakly at Lloyd’s chest, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden aggression. Then something broke inside him, surrender washing through his trembling form as he melted completely into the kiss.
His resistance evaporated like morning dew, replaced by eager participation as he clung tighter to Lloyd’s body, his delicate fingers gripping the man’s shirt with desperate strength.
Soft whimpers escaped around their joined mouths, Felix’s entire being focused on helping Lloyd ride out the final waves of his orgasm, his small tongue tentatively meeting Lloyd’s in clumsy exploration.
When Lloyd finally released him, Felix collapsed back against the couch with a breathless gasp. His lips were swollen and red from the bruising kiss, spit connecting them in thin strands before breaking.
That blush had darkened to something approaching purple, his entire face burning with mortified arousal as he stared at Lloyd with wide, shock-filled eyes.
I gave them both a moment to recover before my voice cut through the heavy silence, bright with anticipation.
"Well then," I said with a smirk that promised delicious torment, "now that your warmup is complete, I think it’s time we got down to the real deal."