“Playtime”
by Mychael Black


“Hard to believe it’s only two weeks away.”

Giving Ben Hickman a noncommittal nod, Bret stared out at the sprawling metropolis just beyond--and below--his eleventh-story office window. The merger had been hard-won--lots of compromising, deal-making, budget-setting--but it was worth it. Dynamic Technologies and Tracer Microsystems. When he’d heard that Mark Sanford was putting Tracer Microsystems up for bid, Bret had jumped at the opportunity. Tracer was still small enough to mold, but large enough to hold a decent--and rather impressive--clientele list. One year later, he was the CEO of Tracer-Dynamic, one of New York’s newest, and most promising, high-end technology firms.

With the merger came the need for more office space, however. The new building was completed, leaving the last of the inspections to go before the official move could be made. Now here he was: sitting in an office piled high with boxes stacked on more boxes, only the most crucial files on his desk. The only personal item left on his desk was one he would wait until the last minute to pack.

It was a photograph of four men: himself and his boys, as he liked to call them. Friends, lovers, whatever; he honestly wasn’t sure what to call them, but after six years with them as a group, he wouldn’t give them up for the world. They were why he did this, why he wore the suit and tie, why he hashed out business deals, fraternized with colleagues. They were, simply put, family. His family.

A loud thump jolted Bret out of a comfortable daydream. Turning his chair around, he practically glared at Nathan Parrish. The man seemed a bit tentative about saying a word at that point. Ben stood beside Bret, trying desperately to hold back a bout of laughter.

“Yes, what is it?” Bret asked, attempting to sound a little more genial and failing miserably at it. He really didn’t want to be here. His mind was elsewhere, watching the rise and fall of a young man’s chest with every nervous breath; hearing the soft, almost inaudible whimper from another.

“Geneva has the last of the inspection reports,” Parrish said.

Bret nodded and stood. “Very good. Tell her to leave them on the front desk, will you? I’ll take them home and go over them there.”

“No happy hour drink, eh?” Ben asked, poking a bony elbow in Bret’s ribs.

“No, thanks. I have…” Bret trailed off, fighting the urge to lick his lips at the mere thought of what did wait for him. “I have plenty to drink at home,” he said finally. Ben lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Well, suit yourself,” Ben said. “But don’t say I didn’t invite you.”

Bret waved him out of the office. “I’ll see you all tomorrow morning. Have a good evening.” He picked up his briefcase, slipped on his coat, and turned off his office light before closing the door.

“Night, Silvia,” he called as he picked up the manila envelope from the receptionist’s desk. He heard Silvia say something, but was already halfway out the door--too far away to respond.

It was nearly six before he saw the iron gate of his estate. He pulled up to the keypad and punched in the security code, then waited as the gate slid slowly open. Fall was in full swing in New York, the ground littered with leaves. Red, gold, orange, yellow, and brown; some of his favorite colors. They reminded him of his boys: red like Danny’s hair; the same shade of gold that sparkled in Nicky’s hazel eyes; Johnathon’s light brown, smooth-as-silk skin. Bret shivered as he parked the car in the half-circle drive in front of the mansion. His boys were inside, waiting for him.

Within seconds of the front door closing, Bret was pinned against it, three sets of hands, three mouths, all driving him beyond reason as they welcomed him home. This was why he did the CEO thing. His coat and briefcase and the manila envelope dropped to the gray marble floor as he pulled Danny into a deep kiss.

Danny, a fiery redhead if he ever saw one. Bret swore the man lived off of cinnamon candies. Danny’s kiss was sweet and sharp, tongue pushing into Bret’s mouth, hungry for him.

On his left, Bret curled an arm around Johnathon’s waist, moaning into Danny’s mouth as Johnathon’s teeth grazed his throat, nipping and pulling. Lord, Bret was surprised he could even stand. Johnathon was hard against him, cock digging into Bret’s hip, Johnathon gasping and rocking against him.

And then there was Nicky; cool, calm, collected Nicky. Those warm golden eyes had been Bret’s undoing the first time they met six years ago. Nicky loved to stroke and tease, to lick and suck on every bit of exposed flesh he could find. His left hand drifted over Bret’s pants, rubbing at the quickly-hardening cock beneath the cotton. A tongue flicked over Bret’s ear and he groaned, body trapped deliciously between three gorgeous, unique men.

When Danny finally let him up for air, Bret let his head fall back against the door, chuckling softly. “I would ask if you boys have eaten yet, but I have the distinct feeling that I am the main course.”

Nicky’s breath was hot in his ear, tongue tracing the curve lightly. “I think you already are,” Nicky whispered.

Bret started to say something, but his words caught in his throat as cinnamon-tinted lips slid over the head of his cock. “Oh, God.” When the Hell had Danny done that? Bret couldn’t remember Danny unfastening his pants, but one sideways look at Nicky told him Danny had help.

Nicky licked Bret’s lips, a low purr rumbling in that beautiful, golden chest. Johnathon’s kisses to the other side of his neck were growing more insistent, hungrier. Slipping his left hand through Nicky’s auburn hair, Bret tugged him into a kiss just as Johnathon’s teeth pierced his throat. Bret groaned and shuddered, hips pushing his cock into the hot velvet of Danny’s mouth as Johnathon drank deeply. Nicky purred on his lips, tongue teasing Bret’s with soft strokes. A hand cupped his balls and Bret’s hips rocked forward again, Danny swallowing him whole.

Nicky held the back of Bret’s head tight as Johnathon’s moans slid through Bret’s body, from his neck to his cock. It was enough to send both him and Johnathon over the edge, their gasps and groans echoing in the foyer as Danny swallowed every drop Bret could give him. Wet heat seeped into the side of Bret’s pants as Johnathon licked the wounds closed. Nicky was the last to come and Danny’s chuckle was sweet and playful as he caught every drop on his tongue like it was the elixir of life itself. Nicky moaned softly into Bret’s mouth, body lax against him.

“And what about you, lovely?” Bret asked, turning his head to see Danny standing again, biting at his bottom lip, hand stroking a long cock. Bret reached out and grasped Danny’s shaft, pulling him close.

Danny’s eyes were blazing, deep red fires flickering as he came, crying out as Bret milked every drop out of him. The shimmering, pale red substance poured over Bret’s fist, Danny’s beautiful body shaking until he collapsed to his knees. Bret brought his hand to his lips and licked it clean. Cinnamon.

“Are we going to play tonight?” Danny asked, nuzzling Bret’s thigh as he tucked Bret’s cock back into his pants.

Reaching down to stroke his fingers over the bright red hair, Bret laughed. “Yes, we will. Dinner first, then I have a bit of work to do.”

A trio of groans answered him and Bret chuckled. He carefully extricated himself from the three of them, giving each one a light kiss. They followed him into the kitchen and as Bret went to the refrigerator, he felt an arm slink around his waist. Only one of them could possibly still be hungry. He covered one of Danny’s hands with his.

“Let me,” Danny said near his ear. “You sit, visit with Nicky and Johnathon.”

Bret leaned his head back against Danny’s shoulder, drawing in a slow breath as Danny’s hand slipped lower. “All right, but no funny business. No more tricks on Johnathon.”

An impish grin appeared in front of him, Danny standing between him and the refrigerator before Bret even knew the man had moved.

“Oh,” Danny pouted, naturally ruby lips pursing. He glanced over Bret’s shoulder and Bret swore he heard a soft but playful growl come from the table. “Okay. No tricks.”

Bret eyed him for a moment, then kissed him. “Good boy. In fact,” he said, leaning past Danny to take out a bottle, “I will take care of Johnathon myself.” Danny grinned and his fingers danced over Bret’s crotch as Bret moved away, shaking his head.

“How was your day, Bret?” Nicky asked as Bret went to the sink.

Setting the bottle under the faucet, Bret turned on the water, letting it run hot over the bottle. “Long, but worth it, I suppose. Two weeks until the big move to the new building.”

“We won’t…have to move, will we?”

Bret turned and looked at Johnathon. “No, no.” Bottle warmed, he opened it and carried it over to the table. Johnathon took it, then a kiss. “This is our home,” Bret said. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

Johnathon smiled and drank nearly half the bottle at once. He set the bottle down and licked his lips. Bret resisted the urge to lick them for him. The blood turned Johnathon’s pale lips a deep pink, making them appear full and incredibly inviting. A slight smile curled Johnathon’s lips and he reached out, tugging at Bret’s tie. Bret gave in with a grin, tongue slipping out to lick at Johnathon’s lips.

“Taste good,” Bret murmured.

“Can we play while you work?” Johnathon asked him, eyes shifting toward the counter where Danny was working and humming.

“He’ll eat you alive,” Nicky said coolly. He leaned over the table and nipped at Johnathon’s left ear. “So will I.” Bret smiled when Johnathon shivered.

Bret just laughed and went over to Danny. “Need help?” He moved behind Danny and pressed against him, brushing Danny’s hair from his neck. A soft gasp escaped Danny as Bret kissed his neck, fingers sliding down Danny’s spine to his ass. “Still have it in?” He smiled when he felt plastic, then sensitive skin gripping it tightly. “Very good boy.” He pressed on the base of the plug, chuckling when Danny whimpered.

“Please,” Danny pleaded quietly. He leaned forward on the counter, pushing his ass back against Bret’s crotch.

“Please…what?” Bret slid his other hand down Danny’s side to his hip, gripping it tightly as he gave the plug a jiggle.

“Please, Master. Oh, God, please!”

Sweat began to bead up alone Danny’s spine and Bret leaned down to lick it off, meeting another tongue halfway. Raising his head, he met Johnathon in a kiss, teasing Johnathon’s fangs with his tongue and receiving an involuntary--but not unexpected--nip. Danny cried out and Bret pulled from the kiss with Johnathon to see half of Nicky beneath Danny. From the way Danny was shaking and rocking, Bret knew his cock was balls-deep in Nicky’s throat.

“Master, please!” Danny begged, head dropping to the countertop.

Bret nodded to Johnathon, then unfastened his pants as quickly as possible. When Johnathon returned, Bret gripped the plug and pulled it out. Danny had only a second of emptiness before three of Johnathon’s fingers slid inside him. Danny rocked and moaned, caught between fucking Nicky’s mouth and impaling himself on Johnathon’s fingers.

“Don’t stop,” Danny whispered breathlessly. “Oh!”

With nothing more than a nod from Bret, Johnathon pulled his fingers out and Bret pushed in, gripping Danny’s hips to tug him back hard. Danny’s body shuddered hard and his body tightened around Bret’s cock, squeezing him tightly and stroking him to the edge. Nicky slid out from under Danny, licking his lips, gaze hungry as it fastened on Bret’s cock pistoning in and out of Danny’s ass.

“Oh, fuck,” Bret moaned, teetering on the edge as Johnathon and Nicky met in a kiss just inches from his own lips. The moment they turned on him, pulling him into a three-way kiss, he came, hips slamming into Danny’s ass.

Exhausted as he was sated, Bret pulled out slowly, leaning down to kiss Danny’s back. “Feel better?” Danny nodded. “Good. Dinner.”

* *

After dinner, Bret sat at his desk, glass of brandy beside him as he went over the inspection reports. Everything looked good.

Real. Fucking. Good.

Bret shook his head and forced his attention back to the reports…and away from a naked Nicky. Danny was stretched out on his back, head in Nicky’s lap, Nicky’s fingers combing through his hair. Johnathon was faring no better than Nicky, having lost nearly every stitch of clothing but his jeans. Bret had wondered why the boys put clothes on after dinner; their raucous game of strip gin rummy was the answer. In addition to a smug grin, Danny still wore all of his clothes. Bret figured that would change fairly soon.

A gleeful cackle signaled another win by the redheaded tempest and the loss of Johnathon’s jeans. Judging by the look that passed between Nicky and Johnathon, however, the tempest would soon be tamed. Bret wondered what they had in mind for Danny, and if the look that suddenly appeared on Danny’s face was anything to go by, Danny was wondering the same thing.

“Truth or Dare, Danny-love,” Nicky purred.

Oh, Lord.

Bret swallowed the laugh. Truth or Dare was one of Danny’s prime weaknesses; a surefire way to discover new and interesting fetishes he had developed at any given time. Setting aside work, Bret leaned back in his chair and sipped on his brandy as he watched Nicky and Johnathon relieve Danny of his clothing. Then the three of them sat in a circle and Nicky started the game.

Looking to Johnathon, he said, “John, truth or dare?”

Johnathon seemed to think on it a moment and then smiled. “Truth.”

“Out of the three of us--me, Danny, and Bret--whose blood is the sweetest, barring orgasm?”

Licking his lips as if remembering the taste, Johnathon said, “Danny. Probably because of those damn cinnamon candies.” Those lips curled up into a deliciously wicked grin. “Danny-boy. Truth or dare?”

Bret and the others waited, tension sharp in the room as Danny bit at his bottom lip. A quick wink from Nicky had Bret on edge within seconds, those golden eyes flashing desire, love, devotion. A cat’s playfulness in one look.

“Truth,” Danny said finally.

Nicky got on his knees and crawled across the small circle until his lips were only a breath away from Danny’s. Bret could see the quickened rise and fall of Danny’s chest, could hear the soft whimper slip from Danny’s lips. Out of them all, Nicky was the best at getting to Danny. If anyone could make Danny writhe and plead for release until his body was literally shaking, it was Nicky.

“Tell me your most desired fantasy, your newest fetish,” Nicky whispered.

Danny blinked, then nodded. “I want to watch Bret fuck you,” he said, gaze dropping to the floor. “And then I want to lick it out of you.” His eyes shifted until he was looking back up at Nicky. “I want to drink his come from your ass.”

A feral growl followed and Nicky pounced, Danny landing flat on his back as Nicky dove in, tongue pushing into Danny’s mouth. Danny squealed and grabbed Nicky’s head, body rocking as they kissed. That was all it took to get Bret out of his chair. Stripping as he walked, by the time he knelt behind Nicky, he was naked and so hard, it fucking hurt. A slick hand stroked his cock and he turned his head, meeting Johnathon’s mouth in a heated kiss. Then Johnathon was guiding him and Bret thrust forward, impaling Nicky in one stroke.

“Oh, God,” Nicky moaned, the sound suddenly muffled by Danny’s mouth again.

Reaching around, Danny spread Nicky open for Bret, swallowing Nicky’s gasps as Bret pounded him relentlessly. Danny gasped and shook beneath them both, and Bret had only a split second to see Johnathon’s teeth sink into Danny’s throat before he was coming, pumping Nicky full of his seed. The second he pulled out, Nicky slid up Danny’s body, hovering over Danny’s face.

Danny grabbed Nicky’s hips and tugged him down, hungry sounds echoing in the room as he drank every last drop from Nicky’s ass. Danny’s cock was hard and leaking, painting his stomach with slick, pearlescent red trails. Unable to resist, Bret bent over and swallowed Danny to the root. Danny screamed and bucked, fingers digging into Nicky’s hips as he came in a rush.

Sticky, sweet, and unbelievably addictive.

Bret licked his lips as he released Danny’s softening cock. When he looked up, he chuckled and stroked his fingers absently over Danny’s thigh as Danny swallowed Johnathon’s release as it sprayed over his lips.

Deliriously sated, they all collapsed into a sweaty pile of limbs and hair, kisses placed on random body parts, soft moans filling the room.

This? This was worth more than any merger, any client base. Bret drifted off finally, sandwiched between Johnathon and Danny, Nicky curled at his feet, purrs already pouring softly from the cat’s lips.


(c) 2006 Mychael Black

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