Two days later, the power company got Anthony's electricity going again, but the soonest Anthony could get a plumber out to fix his pipes was Monday, and Mark and Sören managed to convince Anthony to stay through the weekend and not go home until Monday night when his pipes were fixed.
Anthony did insist on repaying them for their hospitality, however, so he informed Sören and Mark that he would be stopping at the supermarket on the way home to pick up things to cook for them for Shabbat dinner. Mark and Sören had offered to cook Shabbat meals for him instead, trying to tell him they didn't need a reward for doing the right thing by a friend, but finally Anthony wore them down.
Anthony left work at three PM on Fridays - he worked until eight PM most Thursdays to compensate - and even though Sören knew he was at the supermarket, Sören still found himself pacing as the minutes wore on. He felt sheepish for worrying about Anthony like this... all the more self-conscious knowing it was one of the most clear, obvious signs he had feelings for Anthony and the thought of something happening to him was painful. Even though Sören and Mark had weathered five years together, Sören still harbored an irrational fear that he would eventually lose everything and everything that he loved - perhaps not so irrational considering he lost his parents young, and what he knew of the Doom of the Noldor, carrying Fëanor's fëa - but he was annoyed with himself just the same for having that chronic worry.
The pacing wasn't all anxiety, however. He also couldn't help feeling a little giddy with anticipation, wanting to see Anthony again. For all that Anthony had been worrying that he was a nuisance since he arrived on Wednesday, Sören actually enjoyed having him and his pets around. Anthony felt like part of the family.
Sören continued to kick himself internally for not saying anything to Anthony on Valentine's Day, which would have been a golden opportunity. He and Mark had agreed to wait a few weeks but that was mainly Mark granting him a concession of patience, and he knew Mark probably wouldn't have objected if Sören had invited him to bed that night. But Sören didn't want Anthony to feel like they were taking advantage of him and requiring him to have sex with them as some form of payment for staying with them through the damage the storm had caused, and he still feared being rejected.
And yet, as he looked out the living room window for what had to be the twentieth time that hour, he knew waiting was agony, and he was either just postponing the inevitable or being too cautious and overthinking things.
Suddenly Sören heard a siren a couple streets away... then more. His stomach turned to ice and for a moment he could barely breathe, nails digging in his palms as he clenched his fists, backing away from the window slowly. Sören hadn't prayed since he was a teenager and his fundamentalist aunt made him, but his heart cried out now: Please don't let that be him. Please let him be OK. Then with a twinge of guilt: Please let whoever that was be OK.
He felt even more ridiculous now, face on fire, but was reminded of the saying "there are no atheists in foxholes". And he knew he really had it bad if he was actually praying for Anthony's safe return.
On the verge of tears, as he heard the sirens wail. He sat down and the dogs hopped up on the couch on either side of him, the four cats circling, then Solly on his lap, Snúður clinging to his chest, and Shmuel on his shoulders, Fabio rubbing up on his ankles, all of them seeming to sense Sören needed comfort. Sören took deep breaths, trying not to break down crying as panic flooded him, his mind spinning with various wreckage scenarios, trying frantically to push those thoughts away before they consumed him. He thought of his parents, killed by a drunk driver on the Ring Road while he was at a neighbor's house...
...The sirens stopped, and Sören instinctively reached for his cell phone, wanting to text Anthony to see if he was OK, making himself hold back. Wait, he cautioned himself. He tried to focus on the animals, reaching out to one then another for pets and skritches, talking baby talk to them in a singsong mixture of English and Icelandic, as if loving words to the dogs and cats were some sort of mantra for peace. Then he began praying again, silently. Please. Please. Please, keep him safe, please let him get here safely...
The minutes wore on, each of them like hours, days. Sören kept trying to focus on the cats purring, the dogs with their tongues lolling happily, the snow softly falling through the window. And then, at last, Anthony's charcoal grey Prius pulled in its guest spot in front of the duplex - Mark used their garage. Sören gently moved so the cats would get down, rose from the sofa, and then marched to the door. The minute he heard Anthony's boots at the front door he flung it open.
"Are you all right?" Sören asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"
"There were sirens and..." Sören looked away, cheeks burning again, feeling like an idiot for mentioning it, not wanting to upset him.
"Oh, yeah, I saw a bunch of fire trucks and ambulances rushing past as I left the store." Anthony grimaced. "Hope it wasn't a grisly accident or something else bloody awful."
Sören helped Anthony take the groceries to the kitchen - Anthony was still in his shoes and outerwear, but that was no big deal - and the minute all the bags were on the counter, Sören flung his arms around Anthony and held him tight. Anthony chuckled and gave Sören a squeeze, then his own arms locked tight around Sören. "Awwww, were you worried?"
Sören just nodded, not wanting to cry if he spoke.
Anthony smiled at him. Anthony's cheeks were ruddy from the cold air and he had snowflakes in his hair and on his scarf and wool trenchcoat, and his eyes made crow's feet. But Sören thought he was absolutely perfect - that sweet smile melted his heart and took his breath away. The ice of panic in Sören's veins was now all electricity, his body responding to the feel of Anthony's body against his as they looked into each other's eyes, held each other's gaze, smiling at each other, their faces close. Close enough to kiss. Sören wanted to move closer, the urge to kiss him rising higher and higher...
Sören made himself pull back, quickly clearing his throat. "Uh. I'll get stuff in the fridge -"
"Actually most of this is going right in the slow cooker once I get washed up and prepped here." Anthony looked at the clock on the microwave. "This should be ready in about four or five hours if that's not too late for you guys? And there will be plenty to have tomorrow."
"Oh yeah, that's fine." Sören put a reassuring hand on Anthony's shoulder, then walked out, flustered.
Anthony got his outerwear and boots off, then took a quick shower - Sören said it was fine for him to change in the bedroom instead of the steamy bathroom - and when Sören heard the shower turn off then the bathroom door open, he got up and hid from a position in the living room where he could watch Anthony walk down the hall in his towel. He wasn't fast enough to see the front, but just looking at Anthony's shapely back and hairy arms and legs sent a thrill through him, as well as shame for sneakily ogling him. You thirsty ho, Sören scolded himself in English.
As he returned to his seat, feeling how slick he was already, his mind's eye replayed the almost-kiss, and the sight of Anthony's back in the towel. Tonight, he told himself, looking down at his hands, swallowing hard. Tell him tonight.
Mark got home from the shop just in time for Shabbat to begin at sundown. They had tealight candles for Anthony to use, and Anthony had brought kosher grape juice and challah from the supermarket's bakery as part of the meal.
After the candles were lit, Anthony said the prayer in Hebrew. A frisson went down Sören's spine and his hair stood on end. Somehow, watching Anthony perform the ritual made Anthony even more beautiful to him, made him love Anthony even more. Sören thought about the way his fundamentalist aunt tried to beat Christianity into him, which only made him think religion was the source of the world's ills and if there was a Higher Power, it must surely hate him. That conviction only strengthened after he transitioned and his aunt gave him hell enough that he moved to the States to get away. But seeing Anthony - a gay trans man - stand before his people's Higher Power, not apologizing for who and what he was, but expressing gratitude as a link in a chain stretching for thousands of years... Sören's chest tightened and he blinked back tears. One of the very few Bible stories he'd enjoyed growing up was Ruth, who was loyal enough to her mother-in-law to adopt her people and their deity. He thought of that now as he watched the flames of the candles dancing, the light in Anthony's eyes as he smiled serenely.
Anthony had something called cholent going in the slow cooker - sort of like beef stew, a recipe from his mother, who hadn't been very observant but nonetheless made cholent every Friday night as a nod to her Jewish background. As they waited for the cholent to be ready, Anthony streamed a service from the Reform shul he attended occasionally. The beauty of the songs and the ceremony intensified that ache Sören felt, and Mark picked up on it, taking his hand and squeezing. I know, Maglor spoke into his mind.
You miss it, don't you? Sören asked, remembering Maglor telling him of his time in Israel when it was called Judea by the Romans, and living among diaspora Jews for some hundreds of years thereafter, until the persecution in medieval Europe accelerated.
Mark gave a small nod and closed his eyes for a moment.
When the cholent was finally ready, Anthony made a blessing called kiddush over the grape juice and challah. Once again Sören felt that wistfulness, not just longing for Anthony but what he had, the way his faith seemed to be a source of joy rather than a burden. Sören kept those thoughts to himself, feeling like he would be rude for saying so - after all, he knew history; every generation had tried to annihilate the Jewish people - and he tried to focus on enjoying the delicious savory food in his bowl, but Anthony gave him a few worried looks and when the meal was done and Sören was rinsing dishes and loading up the dishwasher, with the rest of the cholent in the slow cooker on the warm setting for tomorrow, Anthony came over to Sören at the sink and leaned against the counter, arms folded. "You OK?"
Sören nodded and bit his lip.
Anthony cocked his head to one side, as if to say I know you're not OK.
Sören exhaled. "So, most Icelanders aren't very religious, like I'm Lutheran on paper but I couldn't tell you the last time I set foot in a church. But my uncle drank, and religion was my aunt's drug of choice. She belonged to this very weird, tiny church that was founded by an American, actually, one of those 'religious right' nuts on a mission to evangelize the irreligious Icelanders... anyway. It was a fucking cult. My aunt was really strict and really bigoted. She drummed Jesus into my head constantly, she believed in the literal version of 'spare the rod and spoil the child'. Before I began painting I used to draw and she had a problem with me making art and called it a form of idol worship, if she caught me making art she'd rip it up and then beat the shit out of me. You can guess how she reacted to me being, um... not a girl."
Anthony nodded silently, and waited for Sören to go on.
"It's not that doing Shabbat dinner... Shabbos... with you was triggering. Just the opposite. It felt like..." Sören made a vague hand gesture, trying to find his words, and then translate them into English. He felt himself tearing up again. "My aunt is wrong, and maybe G-d doesn't hate me. Maybe..." He couldn't find words anymore, only an old wound bleeding out. His voice trailed off, his chin trembled, and he looked away, covering his mouth with his hand and trying desperately not to break down.
Anthony hugged him, holding him tight, rocking him. "Oh, Sören."
Sören cried on his shoulder, and soaked up the sweetness of Anthony's touch, with Anthony gently rubbing his back and petting his curls. "Can I come to services with you sometime?"
"Of course! Like, we don't proselytize, we don't believe people have to be Jewish, it's not like fundamentalist Christianity, but we welcome guests and if you ended up being interested in converting my rabbi would probably be happy to work with you. Rabbi Joel is a real mensch, he's gay and his husband is a convert."
"I still can't believe that your religion is OK with queer people."
"Most branches. The Orthodox are still..." Anthony gritted his teeth and made a noise. "About it. But my branch, Reform, has an official resolution affirming trans rights. We can't help being what we are, after all, and justice, and protecting the vulnerable and downtrodden in society, is one of our most important values. Tikkun olam, repair the world."
"Wow." Sören snuffled, feeling a little intimidated - in a good way.
Anthony sighed and tousled Sören's curls. "I'm happy to hear you're interested. I just don't want you to think you have to convert to be with me... um, be friends with me."
Sören looked up and caught the blush on Anthony's cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes. Sören's heart skipped a beat, his stomach butterflies again. He couldn't help but wonder if that slip meant something. If it wasn't just him who wanted a kiss earlier, and held back.
And still he held back now, even as every nerve ending in his body was screaming for a resolution, to confess his feelings once and for all. He opened his mouth, trying to push himself, but his mouth went dry and his mind drew a blank with words - only giddy whirling, glittering feelings. And then, Mark poked into the kitchen.
"Do you guys want to watch a couple movies?" Mark asked.
"Yeah, that sounds nice and relaxing," Anthony said. "Shabbos is my day to chill and unwind, so I usually read or watch something, or both."
"Good. Anthony, why don't you go browse our DVDs and pick something out, and I'll get some snacks together?" And as Anthony walked out to the living room, both Mark and Sören stared at his firm, round ass and Maglor spoke into Sören's mind: That's a snack right there.
Sören facepalmed, trying not to laugh out loud.
Out of their sizeable collection of DVDs, Anthony picked out The Princess Bride and Labyrinth. "I haven't seen either of these since before I transitioned," he said. Then he chuckled.
"What?" Sören raised an eyebrow.
"There was a Halloween party at the office a few years ago, and I dressed up as Jareth. But it also reminded me of when I first began living as male and was trying to figure out how to pack convincingly."
"Oh. Do you have any pictures?"
"Yeah, but they're on an external hard drive back at the house."
Sören bit his lower lip, trying to picture Anthony cosplaying Jareth. He definitely found the mental image appealing, though he liked Anthony the way he was. He couldn't resist flirting a little, though he balanced it with gentle ribbing. "I bet you look cute with a blond mullet."
Anthony cackled. "I'm very glad that hairstyle got left behind in the 80s."
Mark stepped in and made fingerguns. "Totally radical and tubular, dude." Then he began singing "Shake Me" by Cinderella on his way back into the kitchen.
Mark made hot chocolate, popcorn, and oven-roasted chestnuts. They started with The Princess Bride and Sören and Mark cuddled together on the couch, and though Sören was cozy that way, he felt guilty looking at Anthony all alone on the armchair. But Anthony also looked relaxed and content, wrapped up in a blanket with three of the four cats sitting on him - at one point, Sören thought Anthony was dozing during the movie. Sören realized Anthony was still awake when Maimonides knocked one of the chestnuts down from the tray on the coffee table onto the floor and began rolling it around like it was a ball, which got the cats interested.
Anthony sat at attention and pointed his finger at his dog. "Maimonides, no. That's not for dogs."
Maimonides stopped playing with the chestnut and whined in protest.
Suddenly a joke came to Sören - he enjoyed testing his proficiency with the English language with bad puns. "Maimonides nuts," he quipped.
Anthony facepalmed and shook with laughter that started off silent and erupted into full-bodied hysterics. "Oh no."
"Sören, that's completely wrong." Mark took a handful of popcorn. "It's Maimonides nuts on your chin."
Sören snickered loudly and Anthony doubled over. Then Anthony's laughter turned into tears.
Mark and Sören looked at each other, confused and concerned, then at Anthony. "You OK, bro? Did we cross a line somewhere?" Mark asked.
"You're fine." Anthony waved a hand and wiped his eyes. "Laughter opened the emotional floodgates - I'm overly tired, I think."
"Haven't been sleeping well?" Mark gave a sympathetic frown. "I know being away from your home can be stressful, even when it's in a safe place -"
"You guys have been great, it's not so much that as it's... I hate sounding like an entitled Karen when you guys have put me up on such short notice, but the couch bed is really hard and my arthritis is acting up."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Mark said. "I should have gone to Walmart or something and picked up a mattress pad when I knew you'd be staying with us for a few days."
"Like I said, I'm not trying to put guilt on you and I feel stupid even complaining about it," Anthony said, wincing. "Forget I said anything -"
"Well, no, and it's your day of rest, so you should get a proper rest, right?" Mark turned to Sören again. "Maybe we should take the sofa bed tonight and give Anthony our bed..."
"Oh shit, no, please don't inconvenience yourself for me like that." Anthony shook his head. "I can take it another couple of nights."
And then a lightbulb went off in Sören's head. "We could compromise. Instead of us taking the couch bed, you could sleep in our bed with us. It's a king bed, we've got room."
Anthony's eyebrows went up, but he didn't try to argue this time. He merely said, "If you're sure."
"Yeah," Mark said, nodding. "We're sure."
Anthony smirked. "As you wish." He took a chestnut and peeled it, and though he put on a poker face, Sören noticed the blush in his cheeks.
After they finally agreed to go to bed and had walked the dogs, washed up and brushed their teeth, and gotten in their pajamas, Anthony seemed a bit nervous and Sören was too - but also felt that giddy rush again, knowing he was one step closer to clearing the air about his feelings, and hopefully he was reading Anthony correctly, sensing the sparks flying were mutual.
"OK, how are we configuring?" Mark asked, looking at the bed and then back at Sören and Anthony.
"Well, I don't want to get between the two of you and keep you from cuddling, and I should probably be on one of the ends anyway since my bladder wakes me up in the night at my age." Anthony chuckled.
Mark lay on the right end of the bed, Sören got in the middle with Anthony beside him. Once the lights were out and they were under the covers, Mark spooned Sören, and a few minutes later, Sören spooned Anthony.
Anthony sighed. "That feels nice."
Sören sighed too. "Yeah, it does."
It felt too nice - like the three of them fit together perfectly... and the way Anthony relaxed made Sören reluctant to disturb the peace of the moment by trying to have a serious discussion about feelings. This was Anthony's day of rest, and he hadn't been sleeping well with the abrupt change to his routine, and Sören felt like it would be selfish to interrupt that now, even though he'd been gearing himself up for hours to say something. Besides, Sören told himself, maybe if he gets a night snuggling with us and he likes it, it might sell him on getting it all the time, if he's not already convinced.
But Sören still lay awake, despite the coziness of being sandwiched between Mark and Anthony, his mind screaming at him Just do it! And he kept holding back, fighting the urge with the need to just let Anthony be.
And then after awhile - when Sören was starting to do the breathing exercises and visualizations that usually helped him sleep on nights when he had trouble - Anthony sat up.
Sören sat up too, and so did Mark. "Are you OK?" Sören asked.
"Is this not working?" Mark asked. He rubbed his face. "I know the Walmart in Portland is open 24 hours, I could go now and get a mattress pad for the couch -"
"No, the bed is fine. I'm just too warm. Sören, you're like a living furnace." Anthony took off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor, where Shmuel came over to inspect it by sniffing. "There." He laughed.
In the glow of the nightlight, Sören finally caught that glimpse of Anthony's torso that he'd missed earlier when Anthony came out of the shower. Anthony was trim but starting to get a dad bod; he had faint top surgery scars, and years of being on T had given him a thick pelt of dark chest hair, with some fuzz on his abdomen and a trail leading down from his navel. Sören loved it. And before he could stop himself, he wolf-whistled.
"Wow," Sören said. "Now it's definitely going to be too hot in the bed, with your fine daddy self."
Sören immediately clapped his hand over his mouth, mortified at the complete lack of filter in the moment of pure lust, but Anthony's face lit up with that dazzling grin Sören loved.
Mark joined in. "Yeah, better call the fire department. The police too, because being that gorgeous should be illegal."
Anthony's laughter rang out. He bit his lower lip. "You guys are both pretty hot too."
Sören turned to look at Mark, who seemed to know what he was thinking - the moment was here at last - and Mark gave a small nod. Then Sören glanced back at Anthony. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "So um... you want to have a threesome?"
Anthony's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, and he blinked as if the question completely stunned him. Then he asked, "Isn't that corrupt? Isn't that immoral?"
For a brief instant Sören panicked - after all, Anthony wasn't a bigot but he was religious, and just because the Tanakh didn't prohibit polygamy, he knew monogamy was still the norm for Jews, and that was without getting into the issue of premarital sex - but then Anthony smirked, and Sören realized Anthony was quoting Neil Breen's movie Pass Thru, which they'd watched on Valentine's Day.
Before Sören could ask to make absolutely sure he hadn't caused offense, Anthony leaned in and kissed him.
Sören's body thrilled to the feel of Anthony's soft lips on his, then their tongues together for the first time, swirling and brushing. Instinctively, Sören reached out, his hands sliding down Anthony's chest and back up, enjoying his chest hair. Anthony pulled back with a groan, their eyes met, and then Anthony kissed him again, deeply, passionately, taking Sören's face in his hands. Sören moaned into the kiss, going slick and hard.
When the kiss broke, both of them were breathing harder and Anthony had a hungry look in his eyes. Mark moved in closer and now it was Anthony and Mark's turn to kiss. Sören almost came untouched as he watched them kissing, already deliciously erotic before any of them were naked.
Then Mark and Sören kissed and Anthony gave an appreciative grunt. "Fuck, you guys are hot together."
Mark grinned. "I can make it hotter." He got up, walked over to turn on the light, and then as they watched he shucked his T-shirt and pajama bottoms, giving them a good look at his naked body - lean and muscular, sculpted like a work of art, almost hairless except for the silky black bush between his legs. His hard clit jutted out at them invitingly, and his nipples were hard too. Sören and Anthony moaned together, watching Mark's perfect body as he strutted with feline grace towards the bed.
Sören and Anthony quickly undressed. Anthony looked Sören up and down, taking in the ink and the piercings. Sören liked what he saw of Anthony - the hairy legs, the thick bush... impressive bottom growth, as big as a thumb. When Mark joined them on the bed, they took turns kissing each other again, hands wandering over each other's bodies, exploring. After a few kisses they shared a three-way open-mouthed kiss, tongues licking playfully. Anthony pulled on Sören's nipple rings and Sören moaned.
They caught their breath, then Anthony said, "I've never been with another trans guy before." He swallowed hard. "I haven't had sex since 2017."
Sören nodded. "We get it. I hadn't exactly gotten around much before Mark either." And he ached for Anthony, being touch-starved for seven years.
"At least it should be more intuitive since we all... have the same bits." Anthony looked down at Sören's clit ring.
"Well, tell us if there's something you don't like, OK?" Mark asked, touching Anthony's face.
Anthony nodded. "The only thing I'm not up for is being penetrated. I think I'm more of a top. Like, fingering is fine, but..."
Mark nodded and so did Sören. "We don't use toys often," Mark said.
"OK." Anthony smiled.
"OK." Sören smiled back, nervous and excited all at once.
Then they fell on each other, kissing again. Sören loved going back and forth between Mark and Anthony, enjoying the difference of their kisses, and it drove him wild to watch Mark and Anthony kissing. After more feverish, needy kisses, Mark and Sören gently pushed Anthony back against the pillows. "Let us love you, elskan," Sören husked, his hands sliding down Anthony's chest and stomach, down his thighs, wanting to spoil him with pleasure after having been deprived for so long.
Together, Mark and Sören kissed and licked Anthony's neck and shoulders. Then they kissed and licked Anthony's hairy forearms and armpits, sucked each of his fingers, worshiping every inch of him. They lapped and suckled his nipples together, teasing them into hard peaks, making him moan, breathing harder. They kissed, licked and nibbled his stomach, sides, hips and thighs, Anthony's breath ragged between groans and sighs. They kissed and licked his calves, kissed his feet and sucked on his toes, then kissed back up his calves to his thighs. Mark and Sören got a good look at the hard clit standing at attention, the plump lips, cream pooling and making a wet spot on the sheets. "Which one of us gets the first taste?" Mark asked.
"Rock paper scissors?" Then Sören snorted at the word "scissors", and Mark laughed too. Anthony grinned.
Mark played rock - typical for Maglor - and Sören played paper. They kissed each other, then Mark slid up and kissed Anthony as Sören took the first lick.
Sören took a few more long, slow strokes with his tongue, then began to rub his tongue harder, faster, rewarded with Anthony grunting with satisfaction. Sören's cunt was urgent for relief, watching Mark and Anthony kiss as he pleasured Anthony's hard clit. As he sucked on one of the meaty labia, pulling it with his lips, he couldn't help touching himself. Anthony gasped and kissed Mark more passionately. Sören sucked and tugged on the other one, then both together, before his tongue lashed Anthony's clit some more. Then he started sucking on it, gliding his head back and forth like he was giving a blowjob, massaging it with his lips. Anthony groaned and growled into Mark's kisses.
Sören let the clit slip from his mouth. "Ooh Daddy, you're so big."
Anthony groaned again and bit his lip.
Suddenly self-conscious, Sören cocked his head to one side. "It's OK if I call you Daddy?"
"Fuck, yes."
Mark claimed Anthony's mouth again and Sören got back to work, rolling Anthony's hard clit around in his mouth like a delicious piece of hard candy as he bobbed his head slowly. Sören pawed himself furiously, mad with lust as he sucked and savored the sweet musk, Mark and Anthony putting on a show with their steamy kisses. Anthony's breath was in shaky gasps and his thighs quivered, and Sören knew he was getting close. Before Anthony could come, Sören teased - he liked it when Mark edged him, making his release all the stronger - and resumed licking, then kissing it, mashing his lips into Anthony's mound, making filthy slurping sounds.
Mark yanked a fistful of Sören's curls. "OK, my turn now."
Sören's cunt throbbed, almost coming from Mark's domination. But Sören indulged his bratty side by taking another slow lick, then gave Mark an open-mouthed kiss, tongues rubbing together, sharing Anthony's juices. He took one more lick to have one more taste, and came up to kiss Anthony, letting Anthony taste himself, who clutched at Sören and moaned.
As hot as it was to watch Mark and Anthony kissing, it was even hotter to watch Mark suck on Anthony's clit, licking it before sucking some more... knowing just how those sweet lips and that wicked tongue felt, knowing Anthony would love it just like he loved it. Then Sören lost himself in Anthony's kisses, deeper kisses and more sensual open-mouthed ones. Sören caressed Anthony's chest and arms, once again enjoying the feel of his body hair. "I love how hairy you are," Sören purred, kissing and licking Anthony's neck. "So masculine."
Anthony kissed him hungrily, and Sören's thumbs rubbed Anthony's nipples, pinched them and rubbed some more. Anthony growled into Sören's neck, kissing, nibbling, before he nipped Sören's lower lip and kissed him some more. When Sören pinched and tugged on Anthony's nipples again, Anthony licked down Sören's throat and leaned in to seize one pierced nipple with his mouth, pulling it with his lips, sucking hard, making Sören cry out. Sören began pawing himself again, trying not to come but needing to soothe the ache, even as touching himself made that ache stronger. Anthony lapped at the nipple, gave the ring a gentle pull with his teeth, and suckled some more, and Sören whimpered, his body electrified. Anthony turned to the other nipple to give it the same treatment, licking, sucking, pulling on the ring before sucking again, harder. "You are so fucking hot," Anthony whispered, before turning back to Sören's right nipple and pleasuring it, teasing it with his soft lips and talented tongue, going back and forth between them until Sören couldn't take it anymore, desperately close to coming. Sören stopped playing with himself and brought his slick fingers to Anthony's mouth. Watching Anthony lick the juices off his fingers and suck them, heat in his eyes, almost made Sören climax untouched.
Then Mark began shaking his head, slurping as he sucked, and Anthony let out a deep groan, pulling on Mark's hair. "That's it," Anthony growled. "Fuck, don't stop..."
Anthony and Sören kissed as Mark went wild, and Anthony kept hold of Mark's hair as he bucked his hips, fucking Mark's mouth. Mark kept his eyes on Anthony, watching Anthony's responses, the way Anthony panted and made feral noises between kisses, and then suddenly Anthony's eyes widened as if with shock and Sören knew he was right there. Anthony threw his head back and let out a shuddery sigh then "ohsweetfuck" before a strangled sob, his body heaving. Mark made an appreciative "mmmmmm", licking - Sören almost came untouched again as he watched Anthony's mound pulsing, and saw Mark's lips and chin glistening with Anthony's cream.
"Oh, fuck." Anthony laughed with euphoria, resting his head on Sören's shoulder. Mark came up and kissed Sören, and Sören moaned at the muskier taste of Anthony's release, their tongues licking together, making streamers with it.
"Shit, I need to come." Sören kissed Mark harder.
Mark glanced over at Anthony. "You need to recharge?"
Anthony nodded.
Mark kissed Sören back and now it was Sören's turn to lay back against the propped-up pillows. Mark took another pillow and put it under Sören's hips and ass, spread Sören's legs, and maneuvered himself between them, shifting around until their cunts were aligned. Mark and Sören both gasped as their clits touched, and then clung together, kissing hungrily as their boypussy lips kissed.
It was always so good when they made love this way, clit rubbing clit, juices flowing between them so it felt like gliding on wet silk. But it was even better with Anthony watching them - within a few minutes he was touching himself.
Sören knew what would make it absolutely delicious. "Sit on my face, elskan."
Anthony came over, facing the wall, straddled Sören's shoulders and sank down. As Mark and Sören continued working their hips, grinding together, they shared Anthony's cunt. First Mark's tongue was inside Anthony as Sören licked and sucked on Anthony's clit - every now and again Mark and Sören paused to kiss and lick the cream from each other's tongues. Then a few minutes later Anthony turned around and Sören tongue-fucked him while Mark sucked on his clit. Mark and Sören rocked their hips harder, faster, clit fucking clit, frenzied with lust. Mark ended up climaxing before they did, an intense one where he grabbed the sheets and buried his face in Sören's chest, gasping for breath.
"Too sensitive," Mark breathed as he rolled off Sören. He looked up at Anthony. "You can fuck him if you want."
Anthony wasted no time getting on top of Sören. Anthony groaned as he tasted himself on Sören's lips and tongue, and growled as he began to thrust. Sören cried out, nails digging in Anthony's sides, losing himself in pleasure as their clits found the perfect rhythm and their cunts made wet suctioning sounds, smacking together. "Daddy," Sören sobbed. "Daddy, Daddy..."
"Yes, baby." Anthony kissed and licked Sören's neck, then their mouths met, kissing deeply, fiercely. Their tongues licked together, mirroring the way their clits played and teased. "That's a good boy." Anthony shivered. "Oh baby, that ring is so good..."
"You're so big, Daddy."
Anthony groaned into Sören's shoulder.
Mark licked down Anthony's spine, making Anthony moan, and then Mark got lower and Anthony's eyes widened and he made a feral noise. A moment later Sören knew why, as he felt Mark's tongue slip into his own cunt, lashing at his sensitive inner walls. Mark went back and forth between them, tongue-fucking one then the other. It was some of the most decadent pleasure Sören had ever experienced, needing to come but not able to get enough of the sweet rubbing on his clit and inside him, and Anthony's sensual kisses, the smoldering look on Anthony's face as he took what was his now. Sören loved the way they fit together, how natural and right it felt for them to make love to each other, like they all belonged to each other. Anthony put two fingers in Sören's mouth and Sören almost came as he sucked on them and Anthony called him "good boy" again, thrilling to that feeling of being possessed, claimed, his.
When Anthony and Sören were both almost there at the point of no return, their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's shaking breath, Mark stopped tongue-fucking them and got beside them, sitting by their faces, fingers strumming his clit and tugging on it, making wet sloppy noises. He moved in closer, getting on his knees, and Sören held out his tongue - Mark dripped onto his waiting tongue, and then Sören and Anthony rubbed their tongues together, sharing the cream, and that was when Sören finally climaxed, and Anthony along with him, both of them crying out. Sören groaned at the feel of Anthony's cunt contracting and gushing against his. A moment later Mark came too, throwing his head back and screaming as he squirted all over their faces. Sören lapped like he was drinking from a fountain, then he and Anthony kissed again, savoring it, still pulsing together.
Sören sighed and Anthony laughed, and Mark flopped over with a big grin on his face.
"Fuck, that was amazing," Anthony said. His face lit up again. Sören rained kisses over his face and they rubbed noses, then Mark kissed each of them.
"That was fun," Mark said. "We should do that again."
"We should definitely do that again," Anthony said. Then he bit his lower lip. "I've been wanting to do this for awhile."
"Really?" Sören made a happy little squeak.
Anthony nodded. "To be honest, I... ah... I wanked off after I heard you the last couple nights."
"We tried to keep it down." Sören looked over at Mark, who nodded. "I'd say sorry about that, but -"
"It's more sorry that we didn't invite you," Mark said. "Sören was worried we would creep you out."
"Or offend you. After I asked, my heart stopped for a minute before I realized you were making a Neil Breen joke," Sören confessed. "I didn't know if, like, we were asking you to do something against your -"
Anthony shook his head. "Premarital sex is neither forbidden nor condoned. But..." He smiled, his eyes soft, and he stroked Sören's cheek and wound a curly lock around his finger. "To me, sex is sacred with someone I love." His other hand rested on top of Mark's burned hand.
Sören smiled back - so hard his face hurt, his heart soaring, feeling like his soul was exploding into brilliant colorful fireworks. He moved in closer and kissed the tip of Anthony's nose. "Ég elska þig líka."
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