Per Anum Ch. 10: Triptych

Troy considered, then nodded slowly. "I'll have to see it, but I think I can work with that. Pin him, Connor, and we'll go from there."

I stared at them. "We don't exactly have wrestling mats in here," I pointed out, indicating the wooden stage set on the studio's tile floor.

Sebastian made a scoffing noise. "Obviously don't crack my skull on the floor or something, but we need it to look good. Come on." He got up in my face and grabbed at my arms in the way people who have no idea how to wrestle think it's done. "Pin me, we don't have all day here."

I sighed. "Just remember, this was your idea." I hooked my arms over and under his, stepped in, pivoted on my forward foot, and flipped Sebastian over my hip to the floor of the model's stage. I went down with him, controlling the fall so he landed (more or less) gently, but the breath still burst out of him in a rush as I came down on top of him. That whole process took about a second, and by the time he figured out what the hell had just happened to him, I had his wrists pinned above his head in one hand, his shoulders pressed to the floor with my other forearm across his collarbones, our hips matched to prevent him bucking me off and hooked my legs over his to control them too. It wasn't a proper pin position--my old coach would have been appalled--but it would look good for the painting, which was the actual goal.

"Daaaamn," muttered Troy, wide-eyed. "It's always the quiet ones."

I glared at him. "Shouldn't you be sketching or something?"

He blinked, then nodded. "Right. Yeah. Oh, can't forget the helmet." He grabbed the helmet we'd borrowed from the drama department's costume collection and positioned it askew beside Sebastian's head, as though my "takedown" had knocked it off of him. As he stepped back and started taking photos on his phone for later reference, Sebastian got his breath back.

"That," he murmured into my ear, "was the sexiest thing anyone has ever done to me." I immediately became aware of our positioning in a non-wrestling context, and fought down a blush. Clad only in knee-length towels as we were, my skin was touching his in a whole lot of places. With my hips locked against his--which I'd done solely to keep him from getting any leverage, I'd like to point out--I could very clearly feel something stiff and protuberant pushing against my thigh. The heat of his body, the feel of his breath on my neck...this was going to be an issue. Not that I hadn't been in similar positions, wearing almost as little, while wrestling previously...but then, I'd never wrestled anyone after watching them suck a guy off before.

"Then you're doing it wrong," I muttered back. His chuckle, more a huff of breath than a sound, sent goosebumps rising across my skin. I had barely gotten things back under control after Sebastian and Troy's unexpected show, and I was starting to feel rather protuberant myself. Once glance at Sebastian's face made it clear he knew. He gave a languid sort of squirm, rubbing his whole body against me in a manner that did not improve the situation.

"Hold still," I said, "Troy's still getting reference shots." As if that was the issue.

"I'm just trying to see how thoroughly pinned I am," Sebastian said innocently. "But I really can't move at all." His voice became a throaty purr. "It seems like I'm completely at your mercy. You could do anything you wanted to me, and I'd be helpless to stop you." I met his wide grin with a flat stare. Then he squirmed again, grinding his hips--and other things--up against me, and I sort of lost track of what I was objecting to.

When I realized I was grinding back down on him, instinctively seeking friction in my increasingly aroused state, I made myself stop. This was not going to happen. Nope. Not like this...when had his mouth gotten to my neck? Fuck, that felt good. Our bodies were both moving now, sliding against each other, straining for contact.

"I, uh, I guess that's all I need," I heard Troy mutter. "I'll...just be over here." I was vaguely aware of him moving behind the easel, getting started on his own canvas, but he more or less immediately faded from my attention as Sebastian and I really got going.

All the motion pulled at our towels until both were falling open, and the moment Sebastian's freed erection touched my skin something electric went through my body. I was still wearing underwear--apparently the only one--so I had to remove my arm pinning his shoulders in order to reach down between us and shove the waistband low enough to hook behind my balls. My towel, though now open, still draped over my hips, providing totally useless concealment to my hand as I wrapped around both our cocks, rubbing them against each other and stroking them together. That delicious friction had Sebastian muffling a groan into my shoulder.

Freed from my pin, his body arched up against me. I was still holding his wrists above his head, but he didn't seem too bothered. Sebastian seemed set on as much skin contact as possible, and curving his spine and rotating his shoulders farther back than I'd have thought possible didn't slow him down in the least. It did make his head fall back, and I took the opportunity to explore the arched column of his throat with my mouth. Every flick of my tongue, every graze of teeth, I paired with a squeeze or stroke of our paired cocks, and the noises I wrung out of him were increasing in desperation. Every stroke squeezed out more precum, from him or me or both, slicking our cocks and making the friction even more exquisite.

"I want...to taste you..." he panted, his words gasped out between moans.

"Once wasn't enough?" I teased. I rolled my eyes at Sebastian's surprised expression, and for the first time heard Troy make a choking sound from off behind the easel. "Really? You thought I wouldn't notice you blowing a guy five feet in front of me?" The sting of my words was mostly alleviated by the fact that as I spoke, I got up off Sebastian, dropped my towel and underwear, then moved above him so I could slide my cock into his eager mouth while claiming his slick erection with my own.

It had been a while since I'd last sucked a cock, but it's not the sort of thing one forgets. The warmth of his skin. The slightly salty, slightly bitter taste. That singular sensation of silk over steel. Even as Sebastian wrapped his lips around my cock, his tongue exploring the head, I did the same to him. Bracing one hand on the stage beneath us, I used the other to stroke the bottom half of his cock while I sucked the top.

It was hard to focus on sucking once Sebastian really got going. I rapidly developed sympathy for Troy's struggle to stay quiet under the onslaught. I halfway thought he had more than the usual number of tongues with how much sensation he was wringing out of my cock. He swallowed me easily, taking me to the root again and again, all the while his tongue was exploring every inch and doing half a dozen other things I couldn't keep track of. Sebastian's hands were free, now, and they were just as active as his mouth. Like with Troy earlier, his hands were all over me, exploring, caressing, penetrating...

Penetrating?!

I bucked in surprise when Sebastian's spit-slick finger slid up toward my ass and started toying with my hole. He choked at my sudden jerk, then pulled my cock out of his mouth and smirked at me through the gap between our bodies. Reaching up, he pulled my ass down and raised his head up, burying his face between my ass cheeks and holy FUCK what was he doing with his tongue?

It was so warm, and slick, and...flexible...Look, I'm an artist, not a poet. I can't even describe what it felt like to have his tongue slithering around in there. Every slow, torturous motion of his tongue made my whole body shudder involuntarily and wrung obscene sounds from my throat. None of my previous partners, male or female, had ever tried something like this before. Those guys on the parade float had certainly seemed to enjoy it, though, and now I understood why. He wasn't even really stimulating my cock anymore, just letting it rub against his chest as he rimmed me, but I could hardly make myself care.

Desperate to distract myself--and to muffle the somewhat humiliating amount of noise coming out of my mouth--I threw myself back into the task of sucking Sebastian. It required a bit of contortion on my part, curling my spine enough to keep my hole on his mouth while reaching his cock with mine, but fortunately his comparatively long frame made that somewhat easier. There are few benefits to being short, but this, I must say, is an excellent one.

And so we raced to see who could push the other across the finish line first. Sebastian, his hands holding my cheeks apart while his mouth did unspeakable, incredible things to my hole; and me, sucking furiously, swallowing more of his cock than any I had before from sheer desperation. My victory--if you can call it that--was secured when I realized that I had more than just his cock at my disposal. He was mostly ignoring mine, and while what he was doing felt amazing, he wasn't really driving me toward climax the way he probably thought he was.

When my own saliva-coated finger slipped down between his cheeks to circle at the rim of his hole, however, his body trembled in a very satisfying manner. Keeping up my sucking, I slipped the first segment of my finger inside him, tugging at the sphincter from inside. The noise Sebastian made in response could perhaps be described as bestial, but again, I'm not a poet. Recalling my long-ago lessons with Greg, I pushed my spit-slick finger a bit deeper, still sucking hard, curled the finger just so, and--

Bitter, yet salty fluid flooded my mouth. With a shuddering cry half-muffled against the skin of my ass, Sebastian bucked against me and continued to erupt, spurt after spurt pouring into my mouth and leaking out between my lips to run back down his shaft. Shocked by the sudden onset of his orgasm--not to mention no one had ever come in my mouth before--I jerked my head back off his cock, just in time to get one last jet of semen splattered across my cheek. Pulling my finger out of him, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and gave him a slow, squeezing stroke up and down, milking out the last of his load and wrenching another gasp out of Sebastian. Shuddering and gasping, flat on his back on the model's stage, Sebastian didn't notice when I used his towel to clean off my hands and face.

I turned to face a goggling Troy, who wasn't even pretending to sketch anymore and had one hand underneath his towel, and pointed down at Sebastian. "Does this still count as a Trojan victory? It kind of feels like he won."

*

Sebastian had a full-on Cheshire grin when he pulled the cover off his contribution to the project. If my piece could be described as unexpectedly intimate, and Troy's as possibly suggestive, Sebastian's was straight-up erotic. While Troy's painting was nuanced enough that it might go either way, perhaps combative and perhaps seductive, there was no such subtlety in Sebastian's. Maybe, if you squinted and had a really sheltered upbringing or something, you might mistake what he had portrayed for a duel...but probably not.

"When Achilles learned what had happened to Patroclus, he was so enraged that he went out and hunted down Prince Hector," Sebastian all but purred. "Not only did Achilles take revenge on Hector, he also..." he waggled his eyebrows salaciously, "...defiled him."

Curtis gave him an arch look before turning back to the final painting. Troy and I--which is to say, Achilles and Hector--filled the canvas, leaving only an indistinct blur for a background. Troy held me from behind, his powerful arms coiled around my shoulders to hold me in place, his chest pressed close to my back as I arched against him. Bare-chested as we were, the fact that the painting only showed us from the waist up made certain insinuations inevitable, especially since the positions of our torsos made the relative locations of our hips extremely apparent. Angry sex was about the closest possible conclusion to actual conflict a viewer could draw, and our expressions could just as easily be called hungry as hostile.

"I'm not sure that's the sort of defilement Homer meant," Curtis said mildly. "I must say, you three really went all out with this idea. Reimagining the tragedy of Patroclus as some kind of love triangle gone wrong...well. I suppose I'm the one always telling you all to make bold creative choices."

The worst part was how well done it was. In terms of technique, it was shockingly well realized, with intricate detail work on things like my body hair or the way the veins popped on Troy's bulging biceps. I couldn't even decry it as a hack job...and, frankly, the sight of it would've stirred my blood even without the memories that went with it.

*

"My turn," Troy said, hurrying over. The tent in his towel was comically apparent, to the point where it was kind of impressive the whole thing hadn't come off when he stood up. "I mean, your turn, Sebastian. To sketch." I glanced down at my neglected erection, still gleaming with Sebastian's saliva, and felt like it really ought to be my turn, but whatever. Troy made a shooing motion at Sebastian, still sprawled at my feet. "Achilles needs to claim his revenge on Hector. Go sketch."

Sebastian eyed us, then rose and wrapped his towel back around himself. "You're right, we need to stay focused," he said. "Okay, I'd like a bit of ironic symmetry with the middle segment, so Troy, grab him or something. It needs to be clear that you beat him just like he beat me." Troy nodded and, before I could retrieve my own towel from the stage, stepped in behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a full nelson. This had the side effect of bringing his groin right up against my ass, which made the tent in his towel become--excuse the expression--rather pressing.

Sebastian walked around us, nodding to himself, then started to move away. As Sebastian stepped off the stage, though, he snatched Troy's towel off of him and scampered away with a gleeful cackle to hide behind the easel. Something warm, thick, and rigid was abruptly rubbing against my back, but Troy didn't release his hold. Instead, he ground his hips against me until his erection slotted into the cleft of my ass (though I think he had to squat down some to do it.)

"God, you feel amazing," he murmured in my ear. He rolled his hips, sliding his cock up and down. It...wasn't the worst. Instinctively, I flexed my ass, squeezing him. "Fuck," he groaned, "I want you so much." He wanted me? As in...? Well, the position we were in didn't really leave much room for doubt.

"I, uh," I stammered. "I've never...I mean, I've done a few things, but..."

"It's okay," Troy said, his gentle voice a counterpoint to the gradually accelerating grind of his cock against my ass. "We can take it slow. And I won't do anything you don't want." Abruptly his hands moved from their restraining grip on me. One slithered down my torso, wandering over ribs and lightly tracing my abs, until it wrapped around my still extremely hard cock. I groaned as he gave it a slow, firm stroke. A bead of precum welled from the tip and fell, a gleaming droplet with a hair-fine trail like a plummeting comet.

His other hand, though, only moved far enough for one finger to present itself to my mouth. Hesitantly, I opened my lips and accepted it, giving his finger a thorough coating of saliva, since I suspected I knew where it was headed. Sure enough, it soon withdrew from my mouth and Troy moved it down between us. It meant he had to stop sliding his cock through the cleft of my ass, which disappointed me more than I expected, but that experience was soon replaced with one I had briefly enjoyed with Sebastian and later turned against him. His fingertip traced the rim of my hole, then pushed in.

Still well-lubricated from Sebastian's earlier attentions, my hole opened right up for Troy's finger, and he didn't hesitate to slide it in deeper. Part of my brain insisted this was something invasive, but mostly it just felt odd...and good. It quickly got better than good when Troy pushed a little deeper and found that one magical spot Greg had introduced to me all those months ago.

Turns out he was right: the prostate really is the best.

My body arched involuntarily, my ass pushing back against his hand. A new upswelling of precum all but poured out of my cock as Troy stroked it, relentless and steady. His finger moved inside me, doing incredible, indescribable things, and it was all I could do to ride the wave. I think I heard Sebastian snickering but my brain was too overwhelmed to really pay attention. Also, I may or may not have been making noises of my own. Loudly.

Then Troy added a second finger, and everything changed.

There was a bit of a burn, like you get with a good stretch, but it faded quickly into pure pleasure as Troy's fingers opened me up. They withdrew most of the way, and I heard Troy spit, then they were back with a vengeance, exploring my inner walls and forever prodding at that one magical spot. I'm honestly not sure how long we spent like that, with Troy's hands pleasuring both sides of me at once, and his soft, deep voice murmuring encouragement in my ear.

Then, something much bigger than a finger was bumping at my hole, and the world came rushing back in.

"You ready?" Troy asked. I nodded, but he must've felt me go tense because he started running his hands up and down my body like he was petting an anxious dog. "Relax," he said. One of his hands wandered down to play with my cock some more, and his mouth started in on the side of my neck. "Breathe," he murmured.

Oh, right. Breathing. I should do that.

I took a slow, deep breath, then nodded again. "All right. I'm ready."

Troy's cock nosed up against my hole again, and this time I didn't clench up. Slowly, gently, he pushed forward, stretching me wider than his fingers ever had, but it surprisingly didn't hurt. It felt...odd, to be honest, kind of invasive, like something was full that shouldn't be full. When the head popped through the sphincter, Troy paused, and I reminded myself to keep breathing. Breathing was good. Breathing was important. Breathe.

Then Troy pushed in a little deeper, and the head of his cock just barely rubbed against my prostate. Suddenly, there was only good. All of the feelings were so, so good. I can't describe the noise that came out of my mouth, but it was unique in my experience. Probably interpreting that remarkable sound as bad, Troy pulled back, so only the head was inside me again, and I found myself wanting him to push farther in, to get moving already.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Keep going," I panted. When had I started panting?

Slowly, Troy got moving again. Pushing deeper, then pulling back, gradually working down the length of his cock until, finally, his hips were pressed up against my ass and I could feel the whole thing inside me. The sensation of fullness was more intense now, and still kind of weird, but every time he moved it felt so good that I just couldn't be bothered.

Troy held himself there, in that awkward half-squat position he was in to penetrate me standing up (the guy's thighs must be like rocks), for the longest minute of my life, and then finally, finally began to move in earnest. One of his hands braced on my shoulder, the other on my opposite hip, and I found myself being gently bent forward to make things easier. Leaning forward, legs spread, back arched, it was soon all I could do to stay standing as Troy got going.

In, and then out. The feeling was distinct, if no less excellent, each way, as he filled me and then emptied me again and again. Gradually his pace accelerated, each thrust coming harder and faster than the last, though never brutally so. He remained in control, his motions measured, even as the slap of skin on skin filled the room and echoed off the walls between my involuntary cries.