Chapter 118 Threesome With The Reverends
My pulse roared in my ears as Baron turned toward me first, his eyes hesitant, wide and glassy.
I leaned in and our lips met.
His tongue slipped out, tentative, licking into my mouth.
I groaned, chasing the taste of Michael still clinging to him.
We kissed deeper, filthier, cum sliding between our tongues, dripping down our chins, mixing again.
Michael’s low, approving hum rolled over us.
“That’s it… make it messy.”
Baron whimpered into my mouth and my cock jerked. I was so fucking close.
I was going to come just from this, from just the slide of Baron’s tongue against mine, from the taste of another man’s cum shared between us, and the heavy weight of Father Michael’s stare burning into our skin.
Baron’s mouth was now softer against mine, almost apologetic in the way he’d licked the mess we shared, but Michael… Michael had watched.
And we were still on our knees, cocks aching, leaking onto the cold stone floor of my office like we were nothing more than animals in heat.
He hadn’t come down from that high yet.
His chest rose and fell in slow, breaths, his cock softening but still heavy against his thigh, glistening.
The sight of it made my hole clench around nothing.
I wanted it inside me.
I wanted him to finish what he started.
I wanted to be the one who broke under him this time.
Michael’s eyes flicked between us, lazy and predatory. “You’re both shaking,” he observed, voice low, amused. “Look at you... so fucking pathetic.”
Baron whimpered and his cock jerked, another bead of pre sliding down the shaft.
Michael leaned forward in the chair, elbows on his knees. “Will.”
My name in his mouth felt heady.
“Yes, Father?” My voice cracked on the title. I hated how needy it sounded.
He crooked two fingers.
“Come here.”
I crawled to him with no hesitation until I was between his spread thighs, close enough to smell the musk of him.
He reached down, cupped my jaw, thumb dragging through the drying mess on my cheek.
“You want to come, don’t you?”
I nodded so fast my vision blurred.
“Say it.” He demanded, his grip tightening.
“I want to come, Father. Please.”
His thumb pressed harder, forcing my mouth open again. “Do you think you’ve earned it?”
I shook my head—because I knew the game now. “No, Father.”
“Good.” He released me, sat back, spread his legs wider. His cock, which was now half-hard again already, lay thick against his stomach. “Then you’re going to work for it.”
He patted his thigh.
“Come straddle me and ride my dick like you mean it.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I rose on unsteady legs, thighs trembling from how long I’d been kneeling.
Baron watched from the floor, eyes glassy, hand hovering near his own cock but not daring to touch.
Michael didn’t look at him.
I climbed into his lap carefully, my knees bracketing his hips, shins pressed to the outsides of his thighs.
The chair creaked under our combined weight.
His hands settled immediately on my waist guiding me down until the blunt head of his cock kissed my hole again.
I was still slick from earlier. My hole open and greedy.
“Slow,” he murmured. “Let me feel every inch disappear.”
The stretch was heavenly.
My head fell back on a broken moan as he filled me again pressing against every sensitive place.