The Hot Floor (16 page)

Hot breath ghosted over my straining erection, fingers massaged my balls, and then Rai’s furnace of a mouth took me in, sucked me down, swallowed me right to the root.

The bubbling pressure in my nuts exploded, ripping a shout from my throat as I pumped load after load into Rai’s eager mouth. Everything was reduced to pure sensation, my overactive mind silenced in a roaring blast of exquisite pleasure.

I was still twitching with the aftershocks as I came to. My limbs were too heavy to move. Even my eyelids felt like they were made of lead. The only parts of me that didn’t were my dick, which Rai was sucking to the point of oversensitivity, and my ring, which burned as it attempted to contract while still stretched around Evan’s mighty battering ram of a cock.

I moaned and became aware of Evan’s continuing litany in my ear.

“You’ve been such a good lad, Josh. You blew my mind. So beautiful. So fucking perfect, letting us love you like that.”

Love. It wasn’t real love, I knew, but I let that word carry me along as Evan’s arms lifted me and carried me through to their bed. I let it soften the indignity of having someone clean my leaking hole with a towel, and I let it soothe me to sleep as a man cuddled in on either side of me and kissed me into oblivion.

Chapter Twelve

“Ah, there you are, Rip Van Winkle. We thought we’d have to resort to a bucket of cold water to wake you up.”

I unglued my eyes to find Rai beaming at me, a cup of tea in his hand.

“Ungh?” I asked, before my speech centre booted up. “Uh, whassa time?” It was dim in their spider-plant infested bedroom, but then again, it did face north and the blind was shut. I made to push myself up into a sitting position, and pain tore through me. My arsehole felt like it had been reamed by an elephant. As I hissed and writhed, strong arms wrapped around me from behind.

“Hey, it’s all right. We’re here for you.” Evan’s soft words slipped under the fog of pain and soothed me. “Now, where does it hurt?”

“My arse is on fire,” I wailed, my sense of pride having temporarily left the building.

“I thought as much,” Rai announced, somewhat smugly, I couldn’t help thinking. “Been there, done that, got the ‘I’ve been fucked by Evan Truman’ commemorative jockstrap. Don’t worry, though. We’ve got ointment for that. Roll onto your front, and I’ll have you as good as new in a moment.”

“I should do it,” Evan protested. “It’s my fault he’s hurting.”

“We’ll do it together. Now, Josh, just relax and breathe deeply. You’ll feel a lot better in a minute.”

I screwed my eyes tightly shut and buried my face in the pillow. I couldn’t believe I was about to let the two of them perform such a humiliating task. Shame heated my skin, but for some reason, I didn’t feel like running. My usually restless legs were infused with a sated calm. I felt like I was where I belonged.

Huh.

I took a deep breath and spread my legs as wide as they would go.

I heard two sharp intakes of breath.

“Oh, poor baby,” Rai crooned as hands began massaging my buttocks. “You really look like you’ve been in the wars. Take a look at what you’ve done to him, Ev!” Rai’s tone sounded strangely approving, and Evan gave a peculiar grunt that wasn’t far off one of his sex noises.

Was this a turn-on for them, having me splayed open and displayed? Come to think of it, was it a turn on for me? I mean, I had a semi-on, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, seeing as how I did most mornings on waking.

“Looks like you did that first morning, love,” Evan eventually said, his voice all husky. “How you still do sometimes, when you’ve wanted it rough.”

I heard them kissing—for fuck’s sake, kissing while I was left like this!—and then cool, slippery fingers began massaging my poor, abused ring. Oh! That was…intense. Good would have been the wrong word, yet I found myself rubbing my now very interested cock into the mattress as those fingers continued their ministrations.

“Fuck me,” Evan exclaimed. “Will you look at that!” Hands—I can only assume they were his—reached underneath me and took hold of my erection.

“Mmm,” Rai hummed happily. “And such a pretty scrote too, don’t you think?” Another hand cupped my balls as a lubricated finger slipped inside me with a sting. I groaned, but whether from pleasure or pain, I really couldn’t tell.

“Hey, chuck, look at me.” Evan’s voice was closer now, right by my ear, but although I turned my burning face, I couldn’t open my eyes. That hand—Evan’s or Rai’s?—began firmly jacking my dick.

“Look at me,” he repeated, his voice slipping into a deeper register with a frisson of command.

My eyes sprang open.

“There you are,” he said, smiling. “You’re so fucking beautiful, did you know that?”

I most definitely didn’t, so I just stared at him, openmouthed. He took advantage of this by slipping me the tongue, and within seconds, I was spraying come all over the sheets as wave after wave of hot, shameful pleasure coursed through me.

An hour after waking found me standing in a field filled with tables of old junk, wondering why on earth I’d agreed to accompany the two of them to their traditional car-boot-sale, Sunday-morning shopping spree. The object was, apparently, to comb through all the junk to find something amazing for less than a fiver. Whoever chose the best object won a blowjob off the other, which, considering how much they both enjoyed giving them, didn’t seem to make it all that much of a penalty for the loser. Mind you, seeing as how they were the only ones voting, the whole contest was as dodgy as a seven-quid note.

Still, the real mystery wasn’t the forfeit system but rather what had possessed me to come along. I still felt odd, my body tender and raw. Flashes of last night and this morning’s couplings would hijack my brain every now and again, leaving me standing there with a flushed face and tingling balls. Anything would set me off, from the ornamental alpenhorn that brought to mind Evan’s mighty appendage, to the leather sack of marbles that made me remember sucking on Rai’s very own ball bag.

I hadn’t felt up to taking the five-quid challenge myself, so instead I was on Rai’s team, and we’d both see to Evan if he won, whereas he’d try to cram both our cocks into his mouth at once if he lost. I hoped we were allowed to wait until we got home again, as I didn’t much fancy doing either in the parking field next door. My newfound exhibitionist streak didn’t extend to public displays.

“Hey, what d’you think of this one?” Rai asked, holding up a hideous, water-damaged portrait of a blond child cuddling a puppy, done in that sentimental style the Victorians used to love.

“It’s a bit, er, vomit-inducing, don’t you think?”

Rai screwed his nose up. “Yeah, maybe. And they’re asking eight quid, which puts it over budget anyway. Ooh look, macramé hanging baskets!” Rai tugged my arm so I had to stumble after him to the next stall. “Aren’t these just absolutely divine?”

It looked like a tangle of old string and wooden beads wrapped around a mouldering wicker basket to me, but I made an effort to try and figure out what Rai saw in all this seventies shit. “Tell me why you like this stuff so much,” I asked, my brain having given up for the morning. I must have had all my sense shagged out of me. It was the only explanation for being here when I could be huddled in an embarrassed ball on my own bed.

“It shows such craftsmanship, don’t you think? Someone tied every one of these knots by hand and put a whole lot of love into a simple piece of string so they could use it to hang a plant up in the sunlight. It’s a beautiful representation of everything that’s good about humankind.”

“Macramé says all that?”

Rai made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Our creativity. Our love. Our ability to look after plants. You know that agriculture was the stepping stone of civilisation, don’t you? When we began to sow and harvest our own wheat, we lifted ourselves from the tyranny of hunting and gathering.”

“We did?” I couldn’t remember this being covered in history at school, but I was willing to take Rai’s word for it. He was the brains of us three. Wait a minute,
us three
?

Before I had a chance to examine that thought any further, Rai was off on one. “Absolutely. Some of the Deep Greens think we’d be better off returning to those days—a kind of new primitivism—but you can bet your arse they’ve never had to wonder where their next meal’s coming from. I spent my gap year working for a famine relief charity in Malawi. I’ve seen what it does to people. They need a fair chance to share our wealth, to show us what they’re capable of. We’re keeping them down by driving their governments into spiralling debt. I blame the IMF.” Rai scowled. “And the World Bank.”

The pink-haired woman running the stall jumped in. “What about George Dubya? Surely he’s to blame with his warmongering around the world. Not that the new guy seems to have put a stop to it.”

“Oh, come on, Dubya’s just an easy scapegoat because he’s thick as two short planks. It’s Kissinger and that lot behind the scenes who were the real criminals.”

I stood there listening to them argue the case, good-naturedly, of course, and realised for the first time what a clever guy Rai was. I mean, I’d known he was taking the PhD and everything, but he didn’t flaunt his brains on a regular basis. In the end, he’d managed to charm his debating opponent into not only agreeing to disagree but had her digging out another box of macramé stuff buried under the table.

“It was my Gran’s,” she said, “and I’d love to keep it all, but I haven’t got room for a whole house-load of knickknacks.”

“Rai hasn’t either,” I chipped in. “You should see the amount of crap he’s accumulated.”

“Not crap, darling. Unwanted objects that have been lovingly returned to use. I’m like a modern day Bagpuss.”

“How exactly do you
use
a macramé hanging owl?” I asked as Rai pulled the item in question out of the box with a gasp of delight. His face shone like a child’s on Christmas morning.

“You don’t need to use something as beautiful as this,” he said reverently, one hand splayed against his chest. “This just has to hang on the wall and bring joy to the world.”

“It’s wearing glasses. Since when did owls wear glasses?”

“Specs are sexy,” Rai said.

“Yeah, yours are, but not on an owl.”

“I don’t know. I think they lend a certain
je ne sais quoi
.” Rai made kissy noises at the owl. “Yes, you’re beautiful, you are. Don’t listen to the big, bad man. He’s just being a meanie.”

Pink-hair and I shared a look, and her cheeks dimpled. “You two make a really cute couple.”

I could feel myself changing colour and was about to stutter out a denial, when Rai clutched my hand tight and gave me a wet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Abi. You’re an absolute treasure yourself.”

Abi? When had he learnt her name? I scanned the field for Evan’s panama hat and spotted him a few stalls down, flipping through a plastic crate full of DVDs. Was he going to be pissed off if people started mistaking me and Rai for a couple? And what about the regulars here? Rai knew a fair few of the stall holders by name, and a couple of them had asked after his other half. Were they going to think Rai and Evan had split up? Was that why I’d had a few funny looks from people? At the time I’d put it down to them being able to somehow sniff out my newfound sexual deviancy, but since I was dressed in cut-off jeans and a T-shirt, with no visible bite marks, I was probably safe. I mean, I wasn’t about to drop to my knees and demand a spanking right here.

The idea of doing such a thing, even in private, stirred my blood. Was that the done thing? For the one being, er, submissive, to be the one asking for what they wanted? I’d always assumed that the tops were in charge, but Rai certainly didn’t seem backwards in demanding what he wanted from Evan.

I clearly had a huge amount to learn.

I came to from my thoughts to see Rai handing over his fiver to Abi and then gently rolling up the macramé owl around its wooden dowel hanger. Evan was going to be thrilled to see that one…not.

We strolled down to find him haggling good-naturedly over the price for a DVD of some cheesy-looking teen horror flick.

“Good God, not another one!” Rai said, pantomiming disgust. “Haven’t you had enough of watching pretty boys and girls being hacked to death?”

“Nah, you can never watch too many gore fests.” Evan grinned wickedly. “Gets the blood pumping.”

“We should probably be worried about that,” Rai muttered to me. “What exactly does it say about a man when he feels horny after watching something like
that
?”

“You can talk,” Evan threw back. “You get horny at the drop of a hat.” He turned to me. “He once told me he found chaos theory a turn-on. Now I don’t really understand what that’s all about, but if he’s finding numbers sexy, I think we should worry about his chosen career.”

“Nonsense. I don’t do any pure maths, anyway. I’d have a permanent hard-on if I hung around with mathematicians all the time.”

“You mean you don’t already?”

Rai gave a shit-eating grin and winked at Evan. “Why don’t you have a feel and find out?”

Jesus! What was with these two, acting like that in public? I wanted to slink away and pretend I didn’t know them, but then again, I found it refreshing for them to be so out. It had me worried for Rai’s safety, though—especially with the dirty look the guy behind the table was giving us all.