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Johnny digs his chin into his crossed arms, staring at the wall in front of him like he hasn’t memorised the damn grain.
He lets his legs hang limp, the shackles on the outside of the wall he’s stuck in taking all his weight; the puddle of slick and lube beneath him pathetically small for how long he’s been lying here. Unlike Gaz who people seem to flock to and Alejandro’s growling orgasms are always hard to miss; he’s been listening to them all night and every wet slap and hoarse moan’s left him wiggling in frustrated envy.
He sighs and lets his head flop to the side. It’s always a tossup coming on gay nights whether anyone would stop by the guy with a pussy. He’s better off coming on the mixed nights; at least then he’s more likely to get someone who knows their way around a cunt even if they’re intimidated by the size of his cock.
But he’s been edgy all day; mind refusing to slow down as he jumped from one thing to another, energy buzzing under his skin no matter how he tried to get rid of it. All he wanted was to be fucked out of his head and that lack of forethought has backfired; now, instead of being edgy, he’s just been plain edged, his pussy throbbing after hours of sporadic fucking without even getting close to cumming.
He should’ve gone into one of the blowjob cubbies; at least then he could’ve reached a hand down and gotten himself off.
Johnny flinches as fingers caress over the outside of his thigh, head jerking up off his arms and he scoffs at himself for being so jumpy; he’s almost a professional hole worker at this point and he still gets too lost in his head. The guy pauses, clearly clocking the flinch and he braces himself for him to move on when-
“Arse or pussy, sweet’eart?” a deep voice asks, gruff enough to make a shiver creep up his spine and he shifts on the bed. Anticipation wars with lingering frustration; he hasn’t had a good fuck all night but a voice like that has to be connected to a good cock.
“Cannae ya read my sheet?” he drawls, though it wouldn’t be the first time some prick ripped off the bio sheet hung up beside the hole; a headshot and list of his preferences and hard nos. He likes both, he stretched for it so the more hesitant guys can work with something familiar, but it’s late and he doesn’t fancy walking home with a limp after such a lacklustre night. “Pussy.”
Deep Voice hums, lightly running his fingers over the back of his thigh, playing with the thick hair before his other hand joins it and oh; those are big. He cups his ass and Johnny sighs, pushing back into his hands as they knead his cheeks; pulling them wide to expose both his holes. He tenses reflexively at the cool air licking his sensitive skin, holes winking at the man who lets out an appreciative noise that sinks right into his bones.
One hand follows the curve of his cheek up over his hip, the other still pulling him wide; smoothing down his front to frame his cock between his fingers and giving it a leisurely pull.
“Nice cock,” he admires. Johnny rolls his eyes instinctively then pauses. For once, the compliment didn’t sound empty; wasn’t derisive or with thinly veiled sarcasm, just thrown out because it’s something he wants to hear. It almost sounded… hungry.
“Thanks; made it myself,” he snarks; rolling his hips into the slow, deliberate passes of his fingers. “What ‘bout you; homegrown or store-bought?”
A low huff, almost a laugh, sounds behind him. “S’it matter?”
“No’ really,” he shrugs easily. “Just that I’m allergic to silic- ah!”
His breath catches in a hiss as a broad tongue licks up his hip and over his ribs, following a line of deep scratches he nearly forgot about. It reignites the sting and he arches up into it as he crowds in over his back as far as the wall allows.
His weight presses him down into the padding and Johnny groans as he shifts back down and sinks his teeth into the meat of his ass; the pain making a beeline straight to his cunt. He drags the flat of his tongue over the bite and he feels his slick gathering in the palm of his hand as he works his cock, smearing over his pubes and making his whole front wet.
He tries to tilt into it, to entice those wicked fingers to slip inside him or the mouth nibbling at his cheek to work lower, but he just rides out the movements; following every buck of his hips with an amused huff against his spit-wet skin. Any other night, Johnny’d like the tease; the give and take, the slow build-up promising a long fall.
Any other night.
“Who the fuck comes to a glory hole and has patience; fuck me ‘fore I think you have a shrivelled fucken tadger,” he growls, jerking his hips back as much as his restraints allow; making them cut into his skin.
Deep Voice thumbs over one of them, running along the indent it’s starting to leave. “Hm, your sheet doesn’t mention you bein’ a brat,” he chides, the beginnings of a warning in his voice and Johnny freezes.
‘Cause normally, he can’t afford to be. The type of guys who waltz in here expect a thank you for the honour of being graced with their presence and a cock that’s fucked little more than their pillow. He can’t push back, can’t have a little fun because they’ll just leave him wanting and fuck the next willing hole that won’t make them work for it.
And he knows that. So why is he batting at this guy like he’s trying to get him to play?
Deep Voice tuts. “Poor thing,” he croons, patting over his pussy like he’s consoling it, not him and fuck that shouldn’t make him drip; the wet sound echoing in his ears. “Just want attention, don’t ya? Dumb fucks here don’t know what they’ve been given. Should be fuckin’ lined up to put you in your place.”
Johnny’s skin heats and he can only hope it doesn’t spread far enough down for him to see as he shifts restlessly on the bed. “Big talk fer a man behind a wall,” he spits.
“Harsh words for a slag flashin’ ‘is cunt,” he shoots back, his hands falling away and he goes cold.
“Fuck, wait, wait, I’m- wait…” He squirms his hips, just this side of desperate, trying to find it again. The fuck is wrong with him? He can never just be happy with what he’s given, can he? Always has to push for more-
Johnny keens as it comes down in a harsh slap over his pussy; fingertips catching his cock as his entire body jerks from the strike. “Fuck!”
Deep Voice palms his cunt, taking some of the lingering bite out of the hit. “Colour?”
Fuck that.
“Green, green, you clarty basta- fuck!” His voice breaks as his hand cracks down again and his pussy starts to drool as it comes down again and again; getting harder the more he moans and bucks into them.
His legs kick in the cuffs, barely moving and the exposure sets a knot in his stomach; he can’t close his legs, can’t hide, he just has to lay there and take the hits. The wetter he gets, the more they sting and the more he craves them; encompassing the whole of his cunt, striking his inner thigh and catching his lip until he’s sure his entire pussy’s bright pink.
Johnny gasps as he hits right over his leaking hole, tears welling in his eyes and Deep Voice must notice it in the twist of his hips as he rubs his hand over his pussy; slicking up his fingers and plunges them into his hole, not wasting a breath before mercilessly fucking him.
“Jesus sufferin’ fuck,” he cries, flailing as his fingers fill him up; stretching him out and hitting every sweet spot he has. He punches the wall a few times then braces himself against it, panting as his whole body rocks with the force of his thrusts.
“Pity you’re not belly up,” he muses idly, like he isn’t jackhammering his cunt. He doesn’t even sound winded. “I’d suck your fat cock ‘til you were cryin’; see how mouthy ya get then.”
Johnny thrashes in his binds, legs straining against the shackles as he trembles and moans. His fingers fuck him so fast, his slick flicks off them onto his thighs, running in thick trails down his legs and fuck he’s going to cum; he’s going to cum, he’s going to fucking cum on his fingers like a virgin after being slapped like a whore and he wants it so bad-
“Fuck, dinnae stop, please,” he sobs, scratching up the back of his neck and yanking at his hair just for something to hold on to.
“There we go; not much of a brat after all, are ya?” he taunts, stroking over his lower back before pressing down, pinning his writhing body in place. “Just need a firm hand, s’all. I’ll give ya what you need.”
The effortless manhandling sets a fire inside him and his whole body locks, clenching down on his fingers as he cums hard; a scream ripping from his throat as he drenches the hand fucking him through wave after wave of pleasure.
Johnny collapses on the bed, sucking in shaky breaths as his body trembles. Deep Voice stretches his fingers wide, gaping his hole and he whines as he slowly draws them out.
He runs the flat of his hand over his pussy, pressing down just enough to ground him as he throbs through the contractions. “You did need that; didn’t ya, lad?”
He humps mindlessly down into his hand; panting and needing- “Please keep touchin’ me,” he slurs. “Please, please, please…”
Something in him curdles at the litany falling from his lips but he feels like he’ll break if his hands fall away from him again.
Deep Voice smooths the hand on his back in slow, firm circles. “Hey, listen to me, sweet boy; are you listenin’?” he asks, low and gentle and he lets out a cracking whine and nods; completely forgetting he can’t see. “I’m not leavin’, alright? Not goin’ anywhere.”
Johnny focuses on the grounding pressure of his hand and his breathing gradually slows; feeling less and less like he’ll miss the earth on his come down and sink, untethered and lost, and more like he’s found a safe place to land.
“Good lad; bein’ so good for me. So lucky I found ya,” he praises, stroking his clean hand over him as he fully relaxes in the restraints. “What’s your colour, luv?”
“Green, ‘m green,” he sighs, pressing up into his hand.
He moves closer, enough to feel the heat of his body between his thighs. “Sure, lad?” he checks.
“Aye,” he promises and looks over his shoulder like he’ll see anything more than wall. “You got a cock fer me back there?”
Deep Voice chuckles. “Mm, homemade; just li’e yours,” he purrs and Johnny shivers as he feels him circle the head of his cock over his own.
He starts up a slow grind, running the full length of his cock between his hot, puffy lips and he has to swallow when he realises his pussy barely covers half of him when his hips meet his ass. Looks like he was right; a good voice with a cock to match.
He pulls back, dragging it in a slow line from cock to hole and teases the thick head of his cock against his entrance, just barely pushing in and his pussy throbs; trying to suck his cock in before it can even get past his lips.
“Fuck, you’re hungry for it,” he groans, smoothly feeding him his cock and Johnny moans as his pussy flutters around him. “Need something to plug up this droolin’ hole? Makin’ a right mess.”
He bottoms out after a fucking year; his cock stretching him wide and his legs twitch in the cuffs, trying to close in around his waist and hold him there. “Your fault,” he pushes out. “Your mess… take care of it.”
“Oh, I will,” he promises - warns - and wraps his hands tight around his waist, pulling his body into him as he starts up a deep grind; making him feel the full length of his cock just to pull out and watch him squirm as he warms his cockhead.
“Shit, yeah,” Johnny groans; pathetic noises falling from his lips at the thick drag of his cock spearing him open and for the first time, curses his damn kink.
He wants to look; wants to see his slick dripping down his cock, matting the hair he can feel every time he bottoms out. He wants to see his stomach tensing with each powerful thrust, wants to know if the pecs he briefly felt are thick enough to bounce like tits; he wants to see his face-
A strangled noise tears out of him, eyes rolling back as his hips suddenly slam into his abused cunt, the leisurely grind abandoned for an unyielding pace.
“Oh, fuckin’ Christ-” he chokes out, throwing his arms around the bed and latching on for dear life as the thrusts rock his body; the whole thing creaking from the force. “Oh my God.”
A dark chuckle sounds behind him, sending shivers wracking down his spine. “This ain’t a place for ‘im, boy,” Deep Voice croons, something possessive coating his words and his hands tighten around his waist. “He doesn’t understand this kinda worship.”
Johnny gasps, the cross around his neck burning against his sweat-soaked skin as his pussy clenches.
The sound of the man spitting cuts through the fog and he flinches as a fat wad of saliva lands on his asshole, slowly dripping down to his sodden pussy. He doesn’t let it, sweeping the spit back up with his thumb and he moans as it presses into his hole; his cock never stopping as it splits him open and just sits it there, a wordless, immutable ownership.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum; make me cum, please, please,” Johnny begs and feels more vindicated than he ever did inside a confessional as his prayers are immediately answered.
“Come on, sweet boy, cum on me with this slaggy cunt; fuckin’ soak me with it,” he growls and Johnny wails as he uses the thumb still hooked in his ass to hike his hips up; shoving his other hand under him to jerk off his cock and driving his cock even deeper. “Make me walk outta here knowin’ everyone will see what we’ve done.”
His breath catches; the obscene image of the man leaving with Johnny’s cum soaking his jeans, proudly showing off to the world just how good he fucked him, how he took him apart-
Johnny’s eyes roll back, voice cutting off as his peak crashes through him; hard enough that he can barely hear himself cum all over Deep Voice through the roar of his heartbeat in his ears. His pussy ripples, squeezing his cock for all it’s worth and Deep Voice lets out a near-feral snarl and stills; grinding his cock in deep enough to make his insides twinge. He just whines as it makes his fluttering cunt try and draw him deeper.
He’s never hated Price’s steadfast enforcement on condoms more in his fucking life. He wouldn’t have gotten within ten feet of any of them without it but Johnny still lets out a mournful noise at the waste; caught in the damn rubber instead of filling him up where it belongs, where he belongs.
Deep Voice slowly pulls out with a low groan, the long drag of his cock pulling a whine from his throat as his pussy spasms around him.
“Don’t want me to leave, luv?” he snickers, voice cracking a little as he milks the head of his cock before it finally pops out. He takes his thumb out as well and Johnny slumps; body completely limp in the restraints.
He frames his ass again; putting his gaping, fucked out holes on display and giving a satisfied - almost proud - hum as they throb and drip. Johnny whimpers as his thumb comes back to press against his asshole but it doesn’t push in; just strokes over his winking hole, swirling through the sodden hair.
“You got someone to look after you back there?” he asks and Johnny knows how it goes, what places like this are for and he doesn’t know this guy from Adam but that doesn’t stop him from wishing he could be the one to bring him back up.
“A-aye,” he manages to slur out anyway.
He smooths his hands down his thighs and presses a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek over the bite he left. “See you ‘round, sweet boy.”
Johnny smiles loosely into the bed, the words leaving him warm and fuzzyheaded. He floats for a while, arms hanging limp off the bed. He doesn’t know how long for, just that he comes back to a sudden weightlessness in his legs as they’re released from the restraints.
“Had a good time, sunshine?”
He lets out a weak groan, cheek still smashed into the spit-soaked padding. Price just chuckles and bends down to disable the bed lock, pulling it and him out of the hole. His stomach swoops with the movement and he doesn’t even have the strength to jump as it thuds to a gentle stop.
Price puts a hand on his inner thigh, pulling it wide to see the creamy mess of his cunt. “Yeah; he got you good, boy.”
Johnny whines as his aching cock throbs. “Dinnae call me boy,” he practically begs. “Can’t take it.”
He snickers and pats his thigh. “Sorry, luv. Let’s get you up.”
He picks him up with practised hands, careless of the sweat coating his skin and Johnny unashamedly clings to him; nuzzling into his throat, craving the warmth of skin on skin. With Price’s arms around him, he lets himself drift again; floating on the throbbing ache of pleasure looping through his body.
Johnny wakes to fingers scratching his scalp and sure hands working the tired muscles in his legs and he sinks deeper into the body beneath him with a low groan.
The stomach under his cheek ripples as croaky laughter reaches his ears. “Look who’s back.”
Price uses the hand threaded in his hair to tilt his head up, cupping his jaw with the other and Johnny forces his eyes open. He smiles up at him, lazily blinking through his awareness check and he sets him back down with an approving grunt. “How you feeling?”
“Like I been fucked by the devil,” he slurs happily. His hips buzz, nice and loose even after being taken for a ride and he looks down his body, unsurprised to see Rudy rubbing the last of one of his massage oils into his skin. “Thanks, hermano.”
He hums in response and sets a towel around his bum knee, making sure the skin is fully covered and Johnny almost moans as he sets a heat pack on top. He wants to rip the towel off, let the heat sit directly on his skin and sink even deeper but he knows Rudy will just smack him like he always does and put it back and his hits are no joke.
He meticulously shapes the beans so the bag forms perfectly to the joint. “Sounds like you finally got hit by the Ghost,” he says.
He has just enough strength to scoff. “The fucking what?”
“The Ghost,” Gaz repeats and he cranes his head around to see him on the opposite couch, head pillowed on Alejandro’s thighs; both as diligently cleaned up as him. “He’s a legend in the dungeons. Far as we know, he’s a pleasure Dom; always comes by the end of the night and makes sure whoever he picks gets theirs.”
“Tenfold,” Alejandro snorts, a predatory glint twisting his grin.
‘He doesn’t understand this kinda worship.’
Johnny looks down at the necklace spilled out over Price’s stomach and thinks about the days when the little cross feels far heavier than it should.
He toys with it as Rudy opens a water bottle, handing it to Price and dutifully tips up and lets him pour it in his mouth.
“Have you…?” he asks Alejandro after swallowing.
“Once,” he answers, eyes going foggy with memory. He lets out a hungry growl and leans forward to hook an arm around Rudy’s waist; pulling him down onto the couch beside him, laughing at his chiding smack, and presses a kiss to his temple. “Hold this night close, Jabón; El Fantasma never visits the same man twice.”
‘See you ‘round, sweet boy.’
Johnny smirks and presses into Price’s hands; his earlier grief so far away, it’s little more than a distant memory.
We’ll see about that.