"Hey Sören, we have a surprise for you."
Sören looks up from his book - it's the first day he's had off in a week, and he wanted to get some art done, but is so brain-fried from how busy the last several days were, that he can't get in the zone. Earlier today he thought about going out and maybe taking one of the guys with him, hoping a change of pace would help, but everywhere is too crowded for Labor Day weekend and Sören isn't in the mood to deal with people, and he's too tired for hiking.
Nicholas steps out of the kitchen and smiles encouragingly. "You boys run along, I'll have dinner ready when you get back."
Anthony and Mark pull Sören up from the couch. Sören's curiosity is piqued and he follows them outside.
There's a patch of woods starting in their backyard, that goes on for a few miles and leads out to a lake. Sören hopes they're not taking him to the lake, which is bound to be full of locals having a Labor Day barbecue. But his partners know him well and Sören trusts they won't subject him to that.
As if to further give quiet reassurance that whatever surprise this is doesn't involve crowds, Mark drops his glamour when they're a few meters into the forest - Sören smiles and Anthony's face lights up at the sight of Maglor Fëanorion with his hair lengthened from just past his shoulders to all the way down his waist, pointy ears proudly on display, glowing softly as he walks under the trees, one of the Eldar in his element. If Mark isn't glamouring himself, then they're probably not about to join in any festivities at the lake.
Mark's unglamoured beauty is distracting, but not too distracting for Sören to notice the way the September sun dapples through the trees, with the haze of golden hour. The sugar maples are just starting to show hints of orange in their green, along with faint touches of yellow in the hickory, and goldenrod and aster also herald that autumn is on its way - a monarch flits through the Joe Pye weed. The warmth is pleasant but not oppressive.
And then he sees it. In one of the sugar maple trees, there's a rustic-looking "hobbit hole" treehouse, complete with a round door, with a ramp going up to the deck. Sören squeaks, then self-consciously covers his mouth with his hands. He never got to have anything like this when he was growing up in Iceland - his aunt and uncle, who raised him, were drunks and Sören didn't really have a normal childhood; he moved to the States to escape them after his transition, and has spent his adult years trying to give himself the fun things he never had. And now Anthony and Mark have indulged him as well.
"We worked on building this for you over the summer," Mark says. "Thought it might be a nice vantage point for painting nature scenes and whatnot."
"Oh my god." Sören hugs both of them. "This is amazing, thank you. I don't even know what to say -"
"Your happiness is good enough. Your daddies wanted to give our boy something nice." Anthony grins at him and boops his nose. "Come on, let's go up."
With Anthony ahead and Mark behind, Sören ascends the ramp to the treehouse deck, then Anthony opens the door. A few feet away from the front entrance to Sören's right, there's a picnic table. Picture windows are along the east and west walls, with fairy lights and shimmery dark blue curtains with a gold and silver celestial pattern. On the north wall there's more fairy lights around a framed print of "Starry Night" by Van Gogh - Sören's favorite painting - above a dark blue couch with Starry Night pillows, with a matching blue ottoman nearby. Near the couch there's a few beanbag chairs in different shades of blue, and in the far northeast corner of the treehouse there's a mattress on the floor with Starry Night-themed bedding and pillows on it, and a black gauze canopy hanging over it, strewn with fairy lights. Between the picture windows are tall, skinny wood shelving units with fidget toys and art supplies.
"You guys." Sören tears up, even though it's harder to cry on T. He feels that tight ache in his chest, like his heart will burst with love.
Anthony opens up a cooler by the picnic table and takes out a pitcher of lemonade. "Made fresh this afternoon," he says. He pours them each a tumbler of lemonade and while Sören and Mark sit at the picnic table to drink, Anthony opens up the ottoman and inside is a selection of board and card games. "Want to play UNO?"
That turns out to be a game of Strip UNO, where once a player puts down their last card, the person with the greatest number of cards in their hand has to remove an article of clothing. The winner is whoever has the most clothes at the end, and for an added naughtier twist, the winner gets to come first, while the player to lose their clothes first must sexually service the others before they get to come.
Sören ends up naked first, and Mark is the winner. "Did you use the Song to cheat at UNO?" Sören asks, giving him a look of mock exasperation.
"Would I do that?" Mark bats his eyelashes innocently.
"Such an impertinent question deserves a spanking," Anthony says, smirking at Sören. "Perhaps some teasing as well."
Sören turns around and shakes his ass at them. "Ain't gonna spank itself."
Anthony and Mark chuckle and when Sören turns back to face them, Anthony flings one of his socks in Sören's face - Sören dodges but not in time, the sock getting him in the beard. Sören laughs and tosses it back at him.
Then his breath hitches as Anthony pulls Mark into a deep, hungry kiss, and Mark peels down Anthony's boxers. Anthony undresses Mark, kissing and licking at each patch of freshly exposed skin. Once the two men are completely naked, they resume kissing again. Mark's fingers lovingly trace Anthony's top surgery scars, and walk through the lush dark pelt on Anthony's chest and forearms and thighs. Anthony's hands slide over Mark's sculpted muscles, the body of an Elven warrior. Mark's body is almost completely hairless except for a silky dark bush; Anthony's is thicker. As they kiss open-mouthed, tongues licking together, their hands stray between each other's legs, each of them stroking the other's bottom growth: Anthony from ten years on T, Mark's from magic.
Sören hears himself moan, cunt throbbing. He can't wait to service them, worship them.
But of course, he gets his "punishment" first. After Anthony drops to his knees and takes a few slow, teasing licks at Mark's erect clit, Sören whines and Anthony looks over his shoulder with that smug, I-own-you smile. He gets up and Mark follows him over to Sören. Anthony kisses Sören passionately, sharing Mark's musky juices with him, as Mark kisses and licks Sören's neck, knowing how sensitive he is there. Sören finds himself being marched between them, Anthony walking backwards, leading the way to the couch.
Anthony and Mark sit on the couch together and pull Sören over their knees. "I'll let you do the honor of the first spank and deciding how many, since he accused you of cheating," Anthony says, knowing perfectly damn well that Mark played to win.
Mark laughs. He rubs Sören's ass and squeezes it. "Twenty spankings?" he asks Sören, allowing Sören to safeword if it's too much - knowing Sören won't, knowing Sören can take fifty. But Sören can smell how aroused they are already. They want to get off just as badly as he does.
Mark slaps Sören's ass, then Anthony does. They go back and forth, one of them caressing Sören's back in slow circles or letting their fingers brush and walk down his sensitive spine, while the other smacks Sören's ass. Each blow cracks harder, the sting seething, searing... making that aching need in his cunt more and more intense, juices dripping down his thighs. When they're halfway through, Anthony's fingers dip into Sören and he lets out a growl as he feels the wetness. "You are so fucking drenched already, you little slut," Anthony rasps.
Anthony tugs on Sören's curls and Sören glances up to watch Anthony bring his fingers to Mark's lips, who gives Sören's sore ass an especially hard smack just before his lips wrap around Anthony's fingers, sucking them slowly, seductively.
"Mmmm, he tastes good." Mark licks Anthony's fingers clean.
Then they share another open-mouthed kiss, tongues playing. "He sure does."
Sören whimpers, desperately rutting himself on Anthony's knee. Anthony smacks Sören's ass again and Sören cries out as the pain transmutes to pleasure, electrifying his whole body.
By the time they get to the twentieth and last slap, Sören can feel himself creaming, his clit almost painfully hard. Anthony fingers Sören again, and when Sören starts fucking his fingers Anthony takes them out before Sören can come, and makes Sören watch as he feeds cream to Mark again, who sucks on Anthony's fingers with a look of bliss on his face, relishing, Mark bobbing his head so Anthony's fingers slide in and out of his mouth like a small cock. Then Mark takes long, slow licks at Anthony's fingers, making streamers with his tongue. They kiss again open-mouthed and Sören whimpers with frustration.
Anthony gives Sören's ass one more slap and Sören gets up, shaking. Once Anthony and Mark are off the couch, Mark picks Sören up in his strong arms and carries him over to the canopied bed on the floor, Sören giggling all the way.
Now it's time for Sören to "pay up". Mark and Anthony lay side by side, kissing, reaching across to caress each other, as Sören gets to work. He laps and sucks at Mark's clit while his fingers stroke Anthony's clit, his own clit hardening, aching as they moan together. Sören never gets tired of this, tongue lashing and lashing at Mark's nub, then drawing it between his lips, clamping down hard, sipping on it. After a few rounds of licking, sucking, licking again, his tongue dips into Mark's creamy cunt, savoring the richer, muskier flavor of him as his tongue swirls inside Mark's inner walls. Mark cries out into a kiss and Anthony responds with a deep groan, claiming Mark's mouth and kissing him deeply. As Sören's tongue rubs away inside Mark, his fingers and thumb pleasure Mark's clit, mirroring the work of his right hand on Anthony.
Before Mark can come like that, Sören stops - he's allowed to have a little fun too, teasing them right back, and he moves over to give Anthony's clit the same treatment, licking at it, sucking hard, as he plays with Mark's clit. Sören mashes his face into the hairy mound, making filthy slurping sounds as he devours his lover, resisting the urge to touch himself as he hears Anthony's ragged, shaking breath. When his tongue is inside Anthony, the way Anthony cries out almost makes Sören come untouched.
Sören goes back and forth between them, licking and sucking Mark's clit, tongue-fucking him, as his fingers rub Anthony's clit in the rhythm he knows Anthony likes. Then his mouth is on Anthony's cunt, tongue lashing wildly at the long, thick clit, sucking it like a small cock, as he works Mark's clit between the V of his fingers, squeezing and tugging.
When Mark's thighs are quivering Sören knows he's close and dives in, slurping away, lips suctioning Mark's clit for all he's worth. Mark rocks his hips, fucking Sören's mouth, as Anthony leans in to lap and suckle Mark's hard nipples. After a long, frantic moment of Mark panting, eyes feverish, hands shaking as he holds onto Sören, hips gyrating, Mark throws back his head and cries out and Sören feels Mark's clit twitching, feels Mark's cunt contracting. Sören takes a few slow licks, watching the contractions - his own cunt dangerously close to climax at the sight of it - and comes up to kiss Anthony with Mark's cum on his tongue. They kiss open-mouthed, tongues sensually rubbing, while Mark lays there dazed, catching his breath.
A few kisses later, Anthony pins Sören down, scoots up and straddles Sören's shoulders, his cunt in Sören's face. He grabs handfuls of Sören's curls and rides Sören's mouth. Sören whimpers into the drenched cunt as his tongue lashes, then he sucks at Anthony's clit, reaching down to paw himself - he loves it when Anthony dominates him like this, and Anthony knows it.
"That's it, slut. Suck Daddy's cock," Anthony snarls, pulling Sören's hair harder.
Sören whimpers louder, hand rubbing harder at his cunt, making wet sloshy sounds. Mark slaps Sören's hand away. "Your daddies didn't say you could touch yourself," Mark scolds. Then he gets in between Sören's thighs and licks his clit oh so slowly - just enough to drive him out of his mind with delicious sensation, not enough to make him come. Anthony keeps working his hips, cock gliding in and out of Sören's full lips. "That's my good cocksucker," Anthony says. "You love being a slut for your Daddy's cock, don't you?"
"Mmmmmhmmmm!" Sören feels those flutters, almost coming. He sucks as hard as he can, slurping, suctioning, and watches Anthony shaking, panting, a fine sheen of sweat on his skin, in his chest hair. Sören lets his hands wander over him, expressing the admiration for his masculine body with the touch of an artist's hands. Anthony groans at Sören's touch, brings Sören's hands up to his mouth to lovingly kiss the palms, and then he grabs Sören's wrists, bucking harder. Sören can feel himself about to climax without permission, but Anthony comes, squirting, and as Sören laps up the musky flow like he's drinking from a fountain, Mark stops licking him, leaving Sören hanging on that edge, frustrated.
Mark leans in to kiss Sören, tasting Anthony's cream, then Anthony kisses each of them in turn. Sören feels like he's going to die if he doesn't come, but he obediently waits for their permission. Whatever they have planned, they need to recharge first - Anthony and Mark lay side by side again, Sören curled up on both of them, shivering with pleasure as they skritch and pet him.
"We should let him come," Mark says, skritching Sören's beard, "but I think it would be more fun if we made him come than having him get himself off."
"I agree."
Stashed with some of Sören's art supplies in the treehouse is a clit pump. Sören laughs with delight as Anthony takes it out and brings it over. He and Mark are already plenty hard but they can get harder, taking turns pumping each other and making out as Sören watches, frantic with lust.
When they're ready, Anthony props up the pillows, leans back, spreads and pats his hips. "Come on, baby. Ride Daddy's cock."
Sören straddles him and sinks down, and Anthony's two inches slips into him like a finger. Both of them sigh with pleasure at that feeling of being connected so intimately. Anthony embraces him and Sören leans in for a deep, fierce kiss.
"I love you, Daddy," Sören whispers.
Anthony kisses the tip of Sören's nose, boops him, and then kisses him more passionately. "I love you so much, sweetheart."
Sören leans over Anthony, bucking his hips, Anthony's clit-cock sliding in and out of him, as the V of Anthony's fingers tugs on Sören's own aching nub, and Anthony's free hand plays with one of Sören's pierced nipples as he laps and suckles the other. After he's feasted on both nipples, Anthony tenderly kisses and nuzzles Sören's top surgery scars, then gets back to pleasuring one nipple with his tongue and the other with his thumb.
All the while Mark watches them, working his pumped clit between his thumb and index finger, heat in his eyes. "You guys are so beautiful together," he husks.
Anthony grins at him. "Get over here and help me fuck this cock-hungry slut properly."
Sören whimpers, knowing what's about to happen - craving it like a drug. Mark kneels behind him, tilts forward, and a moment later Sören feels Mark's clit slipping inside him to join Anthony's. Sören bounces faster and Anthony works Sören's clit harder, looking up to watch Mark reaching around to play with Sören's nipples, kissing and licking the back of Sören's neck and shoulder, hot breath teasing like a feather. Knowing their clits are rubbing together inside him drives Sören wild, making high-pitched noises against the squishing sound of two clits fucking a sloppy cunt, Mark's hips slapping against his. "Daddy," Sören gasps. "Daddy... Daddy, it's so good..."
"Get those dicks, baby." Mark nibbles Sören's neck. "Show us how hungry that slutty boypussy is for Daddy cock -"
Mark talking dirty to him in that crystal-velvet voice sends Sören right to that edge. The next moment seems to go on forever, clits rubbing inside him, Anthony's talented fingers on his nub, Mark's sweet mouth on his neck, fingers playing with Sören's nipples like Sören is his instrument. Sören holds back as long as he can, gasping, whining, heart hammering in his ears, wanting to come but never wanting them to stop, needing his Daddies to love him...
...and then he comes, screaming as he shatters. He feels himself squirting and doubles over. Anthony and Mark's arms tighten around him and then Sören feels them pulsing together inside him, hears Mark's gasp and Anthony's sigh as they come together, three sets of hands clasping as they throb in the same rhythm of bliss.
"Good boy," Anthony says, pressing a kiss to Sören's brow. "Good boy. Our good, good boy."
Sören drifts after that, and eventually Anthony and Mark rouse him. They get dressed, and finish off the rest of the lemonade watching the sunset on the deck, looking out across the forest and the way the light glows through the trees. They head back to the house in the twilight, with the last few fireflies of summer darting here and there. Sören can smell barbecue chicken - Nicholas is grilling.
It was a bad week, but today is a perfect day.