Read King Cobra (Hot Rods) Online

Authors: Jayne Rylon

King Cobra (Hot Rods) (4 page)

BOOK: King Cobra (Hot Rods)
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Alanso weighed the plump, if not huge, cock on his tongue. He suckled lightly, then a bit harder. It felt nice in his mouth. Warm, firm and full. His eyes drifted closed as he went for another nibble.

“You’re fucking hot. A waste to never have had this mouth fucked before.”

The guy was getting into it now. Really.

“Enjoy while you can, Al,” Ronnie cheered him on. “Links is close already. We got him good and riled for you. Maybe next time you’ll taste him. A little sweaty, a little salty.”

“Shit, Phil.” Ronnie ground against Alanso’s left side, prodding his hip with a thick shaft encased in denim. “Cut that out or you’re going to make me come in my pants again.”

“I have a feeling we’ll both be up for more than one round after this.” He smiled at his friend.

“Probably true.” The guy practically vibrated where they fused together.

Alanso could relate. His tongue lapped along the coated underside of Links’ erection, making him half-freak-out and half-celebrate. He was doing it. Really doing it. And
coño
, it felt good. Right.

Almost perfect.

Alanso relaxed his jaw, permitting himself to take Links farther into his mouth. He didn’t stop until the head of the guy’s cock stabbed the back of his throat and he choked. The men on either side of him pulled him off.

“Don’t get all crazy now, Al.” Phil rubbed his shoulders. “You’ll have plenty of chances to practice if you want them. Go slow tonight. Enjoy this.”

He moaned. The vibration had Links’ cock jerking on the tip of his tongue. He craned his neck and sucked harder.

“Careful. Teeth,” the guy panted.

Alanso thought of all the sloppy BJs he’d had from too-drunk chicks and tried to focus. When he did, he swirled his tongue around the ridges made by the veins now standing out on Links’ shaft. He worked up the length, learning the textures and shapes along the way until he got to the plump head.

Alanso closed his lips around the tip of Links’ cock and suckled. He flicked his tongue through the indentation made by the slit at the top, smearing superslick precome from the divot onto the reservoir of the condom. A shiver ran down his spine as he imagined the bulge filling with seed.

“Goddamn,” Links growled.

“He’s a natural.” Phil patted Alanso’s ass.

“Go ahead. Take him deeper. Slow this time,” Ronnie coached him. “Be ready. You probably won’t get far before he goes off.”

The four men braced each other in a ring, each of them fully engaged in the moment.

Alanso felt part of something…bigger…than his simple arousal.

What if it were Carver, Holden and Eli sharing the moment with him? Sally and Roman? Bryce? Kaige? Something this powerful would forge an unbreakable bond. He’d never have to worry about losing them again. Not like his mom.

Desperation forced him to suck harder than intended. He sealed Links’ fate.

“Oh shit, yeah.” The man’s fingers dug into Alanso’s shoulders. The tiny pain was welcome.

“Keep going,” Phil encouraged. “Drain him dry.”

His throat flexed as Links shouted and squirmed. The minty cock in his mouth swelled then jerked as Alanso’s first satisfied customer filled his condom with a thick load. For Alanso. He’d pleased a man. An experienced, kind of jaded guy.

Phil tapped his chin. “Okay, Al. Let him go. He’s spent.”

He opened his mouth. A whimper escaped along with limp flesh when Links’ cock slipped free. Alanso’s hand flew to his jeans and ripped them open before jamming his fist inside.

“Oh hell no.” Ronnie tugged his wrist.

Alanso nearly decked the man. He could come with a few good jerks.

Links hit the dirt on his knees just as Phil and his partner colluded to shove Alanso backward. He fell to the ground, his shoulders slamming into the clearing. For one tiny second, fear shriveled his balls.

“Shh. Nothing to fight here, Al.” Phil held him down gently. Alanso could have broken the hold at any time. “Let us take care of you like you deserve.”

“Me?” He hadn’t considered that.

“Yeah.” Phil grinned, a wolf’s smile. “It’s your turn.”

Chapter Four

Eli balled his fists to keep from charging into the clearing and taking a swing at the men who dared to put their hands on his best friend. But Joe’s warning rang in his mind. He had no right to interfere. He’d rejected Alanso’s advances. Given up the chance to be the man reveling in the seduction of Al’s innocent mouth on his cock.

What a fucking moron.

Except he wouldn’t have worn some nasty fucking condom. Alanso knew where he’d been. Hell, they’d been there together most of the time.

Jealousy burned through him, nearly as hot and bright as desire.

About the time Alanso really got into his amazing-looking blowjob, Eli unknitted his zipper and withdrew his cock. He took himself in hand, stroking in time to the uneven lunges of Alanso’s mouth on the guy they’d called Links’ shaft. The flex and play of muscles around the edges of Alanso’s T-shirt only fired him up more.

Eli wished he could feel the strength there as Alanso submitted to him. Not because he had some sick urge to lord over the guy. But because he had waited so long for Alanso to trust that his friends would always care for him, wounded or not. Once and for all, maybe he’d believe that none of his friends would ever choose to leave him behind.

Yet, in some ways, wasn’t that exactly what he’d done by refusing to walk beside his best friend on this journey?

His cock wilted for a split second until Alanso’s science project lost his control. The man broke, grabbing Al’s head and anchoring him in place as he rode the open, succulent mouth in front of him and shot his come into the condom in spasm after spasm of what looked like a world-class orgasm.

Eli half-expected the guy to drop dead on the spot.

He wanted to hate the bastard. But he was thankful that Links had given Alanso what he needed when Eli couldn’t. That the stranger had respected Al, taking pleasure while giving plenty in return. Fuck them.

All three of the apparent regulars now hovered around Alanso. His cheeks were darker than usual, a flush on his tan skin, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. The nice one, Phil, petted Alanso as if he were a stray dog to be tamed. Meanwhile, his accomplice shimmied those hot-as-hell jeans then a pair of bright yellow-and-black boxer briefs over Al’s trim hips and down his powerful thighs.

Eli leaned against a tree so he wouldn’t crash to the forest floor at the sight of Alanso’s dick, rock-hard. Sure, they’d shaken the ketchup bottle together plenty of times as teenagers. All of the Hot Rods except Sally had whipped it out periodically during those hormone-laden years when Roman would bring home a porno or one of the other guys had gotten lucky in the storeroom of the garage.

But he swore he didn’t remember Alanso’s cock looking like that.

It shamed Eli that he hadn’t noticed the heft and impressive girth of Alanso’s hard-on when he’d clasped it in his fist the day they’d discovered just how close the crew really was. To be honest, he’d been too mesmerized by Mike fucking Joe and overwhelmed by the possibilities to take it all in.

Plus, if he’d allowed himself to concentrate on Alanso’s cock spewing all over his hand, he never could have returned to normal once they’d left the fantasyland of their mutual masturbation and returned to the garage.
Fuck
. Had he gotten this entirely wrong from the start?

Maybe he should have done exactly the opposite.

Months and months of torture could have been alleviated for them both.

Because Eli knew as he watched the three men in the grove undress Alanso—slowly yet deliberately—that he would have to do the same someday before he died. Or he’d regret it with every breath he took.

Bronze skin coated in a light sheen of perspiration glinted in the twinkling lights wrapped through the bushes. Alanso looked like a sacrifice staked out on the turf. Or maybe a god surrounded by devotees.

Eli could understand.

He leaned forward as Phil dropped down to tease Alanso’s beaded nipple and the stainless steel barbell running through it. Eli had imagined doing that no less than a thousand times and could almost guess what the heated metal would feel like on his tongue. Or against the back of his teeth as he tugged lightly on the embedded adornment.

Links tucked himself into his pants and unclipped a length of chain from one of a dozen pockets.

Eli tensed, preparing to tear all three of the fuckers limb from limb if they so much as hurt one of the nonexistent hairs on Alanso’s head. Instead of anything sinister, Links let the length fall, heavy, onto Alanso’s biceps then drew it upward until it draped over his wrist. The implication of restraint was all that was required.

“Stay still,
cariño
. Let my boys treat you nice.”

As if the chain weighed a ton, Alanso obeyed, not moving a fraction of an inch. To see the fiery man yield made Eli’s dick drip. Slickness eased the shuttling of his fist over his length. Too much of that and he’d shoot all over the weeds at his feet before they’d even gotten to the juicy shit.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Alanso’s hips lifted, begging for something he likely didn’t understand. Links had no trouble diagnosing a case of unrequited desire. “Phil, put your hand on his cock. Squeeze him nice and tight. You can stroke him a little. Don’t you dare get him off yet.”

“Yes, sir.” The dude seemed to enjoy taking orders as much as he would relish being the recipient of the prescribed treatment. Eli’s cock leaked, the droplet splashing into the soil.

“And Ronnie, push those legs wide as they’ll go, considering our slut still has his pants around his ankles and those hot fucking motorcycle boots on. I bet you really ride, don’t you?”

Alanso nodded. His eyes scrunched closed as his new cohorts assaulted him with pleasure. Knees splayed, soles of his feet touching, he gave them plenty of room to operate.

“That’s it.” Links tweaked Alanso’s other nipple before returning his hand to Al’s head and stroking him lightly enough to belie his gruff commands. “Now, Ronnie, get your face in those balls. Don’t be prissy either. Fucking slather them with your tongue. Soak him. Let your spit run down his crack. Get his hole nice and drenched.”

Eli thought someone had knocked the wind from him. What if they tried to fuck Alanso? Was he ready for that? Would they hurt him?

Could Eli stand by and watch them penetrate his best friend?

Something in him roared. That right should have been his.

Except he’d wasted the opportunity.

If he could do it all over…

Alanso writhed when Ronnie slurped his sac into his mouth and pulled lightly. Phil’s fingers rhythmically squeezed and released Alanso’s cock, teasing the bottom of his fat head.

From his outpost, Eli could detect the flaring of Alanso’s nostrils. A tiny smear of blood emerged on his lip when he gnawed a section between his teeth. Probably trying his damnedest not to shoot.

Phil took it upon himself to nuzzle Alanso’s belly. The chiseled abs couldn’t have provided much pillow for the slender man’s cheek. He watched up close and personal as his buddy followed instructions. Ronnie buried his nose beneath Alanso’s heavy
cojones
. He went to town on the sensitive spot between the delicate orbs and Al’s ass.

In the moonlight, Eli watched saliva drip toward the shadows between Alanso’s thighs. He imagined the impromptu lube coating his rear entrance.

“Just do it already,” Alanso barked.

The desperation in his directive startled Eli. Who could resist that invitation? Apparently, he had. What a fucking idiot. Why had he done that again?

He swore he couldn’t remember a valid fucking reason.

Not one.

But he’d had so many.

Hadn’t he?

Shit, this was bad.

“You’re not ready to be fucked.” Links squashed the flicker of hope in Ronnie’s eyes. He almost seemed to glance in the direction of Eli’s hiding spot. King Cobra froze, his hand grinding to a halt on his cock.

Until the older man returned his laser intensity to the guys he orchestrated once more.

“Don’t tell me what I can take.” Alanso practically spit at them. “I’ve had enough of other peoples’ judgments on my sex life. If I say I want to be fucked, that’s what I want. What does a guy have to do to get a dick in his ass?
Me cago en diez!
Doesn’t anyone want me?”

Eli tipped forward. The hand not cradling his erection landed on his knee for support.

The plea sliced through his guts like a rusty knife.

He deserved a thousand more cuts if he’d inflicted that clear pain on Alanso without even realizing it. Of course that’s what Alanso would assume. That he was unwanted. Again. Shit. Fuck. Damn.

“You come back in two weeks, you’ll have all the cock you can handle. Including mine.” Links shook Alanso’s shoulder. “
After
you’ve worn a plug a few days and maybe tried a smaller toy. No way am I letting your first time rip you up so you decide you don’t like it. Sorry,
cariño
. You’re going to have to settle for Ronnie’s finger tonight.”

BOOK: King Cobra (Hot Rods)
11.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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