Trans Jayce Week 2023!

You know exactly where it went. Wrapped around your largest dildo, spit-slick lips stretched taut around the very middle of it, bulbous silicone lodged into the back of Jayce’s throat just deep enough to allow him to swallow with a thick bob of his throat.

He whines as an answer, a small, wet little noise that falls into a spluttering cough the moment Viktor grinds himself against the meat of Jayce’s left pec and chuckles. You can tell based on the sharpness of his huff alone, don’t need to look at his face to know he’s thoroughly enjoying himself.

“His heart is speeding up,” Viktor tells you, legs spreading wider around the thick, meaty expanse of Jayce’s torso. Jayce arches into it, lets Viktor rub the slick of his cunt into the meat of Jayce’s chest. His hands would already be settled on Viktor’s gaunt hips, on your thighs, anywhere on either of you, if it weren’t for Viktor’s knees, pressing the entirety of his weight onto both of Jayce’s biceps, effectively pinning his arms down. 

“I can feel it,” Viktor says, making a point to press his cock against Jayce’s chest to the point a slick sound rings out, before he turns to look at you over his shoulder. His hand finds yours, loosely settled on his waist, and drag one between his legs, where the heartbeat of his swollen cock pulses against the thick of Jayce’s tit, “right here.”

You can feel it, too. The flutter of Viktor’s peripheral, quiet, but fast pulsing and fluttering of his muscles, the rapid pounding of Jayce’s heart. And your fingertips, caught between them, both slick and dripping and warm.

The texture of Jayce’s coarse stomach hair catches on your clit as you drag forward and settle above Jayce’s ribs, close enough to hug Viktor’s back against your front, but far enough to enable his steady grinding.

The hand you’d tucked between their point of contact inches up to the root of Viktor’s cock, parts him open. Out of pure muscle memory alone, your fingers fold, tugging at the base of him. Viktor is not small by any means, thick enough to fill up the space between your index and middle finger easily, so much so the webbing between them stretches taut over the hood of his cock. His hips snap forward, and with a sticky sound, his hood stretches taut and back, reveals the sensitive tip of him.

You pinch your fingers together, and he hisses — a first tonight — before his cock, now fully exposed, catches against Jayce’s erect nipple.

The sensation in and of itself can’t be affecting Jayce the way he is acting like it is. You suspect it’s mostly a force of habit. Before they had a silvery white crest running around, then down the middle of his areola, to all the way below the meat of his pectoral, Jayce’s nipples were sensitive. Had him mewling and arching into your hand as he gushed in his boxers over and over, let you tease orgasm after orgasm out of him until he was just a soaked mess, begging for reprieve.

Now, though, he’s choking around the strap in his throat, desperately humming as it sinks a little deeper, moaning not because it feels good, but because Viktor’s feeling good, and that’s what matters to Jayce. What’s always mattered more than his pleasure, is witnessing and being the cause of yours, and that has not changed. 

You suspect it won’t anytime soon.

“God.” Your voice falters while you tuck your chin over Viktor’s pale, bony shoulder, curvature of it made to be nuzzled into as you look down at Jayce. “So pretty with his mouth stuffed fucking full.”

“Could be fuller,” Viktor bites back, both a jab and a joke, taps at the remaining length of the silicone cock that’s still dry. “Could have his throat so full he won’t even be able to whimper.” His hand inches down the base of the toy, ghosts over Jayce’s lips, traces down his chin, settles palm down against his Adam’s apple. Jayce’s eyes flutter shut and he gives a moan so thorough you can feel it rumbling below your cunt. “But he needs to be eased into it, don’t you, štěňátko?”

Jayce’s hands clench, fist the sheets, then let go. Clench, unclench, you know what he’s feeling, because when he’s treated to a sight like the one right now, with Viktor grinding his cunt off on his chest and you hovering right behind him, Jayce is quite a simple man.

He only wants to touch.

And his gaze, glazed over and needy and oh-so-fucking-obvious betrays exactly what he’s aching for.

“Want me to touch him for you, Jayce?” You ask him, smoothing your palms up Viktor’s waist to get your point across.

Jayce nods — not an easy feat with silicone threatening to force its way down his throat — fists unclenching and staying that way; relieved, almost, that you’ve figured him out.

Viktor gives his approval by leaning into your arms, bearing what must be a delicious sight of his drenched, red folds to Jayce while he does so.

You can only guess, because he’s whimpering.

Not that you can be bothered to care much for what Jayce is treated to when you have Viktor’s chest in your hands.

It’s flat, your fingertips meet at his bony sternum while your thumbs cup around the outside, skin between your fingers settled above his perky nipples. Viktor’s scarred, too, proof of his past and his affinity for risks, but not where Jayce is. There’s a thin layer of pudge below his nipples, barely big enough to fill up the dip of your palm. 

His chest is milky white, pale enough you can see his veins — a dark blue contrast — peeking through when you give the softness in your hands a squeeze.

Jayce moans harder than Viktor does, whiskey doe eyes fixated on where your fingertips dip into pale skin, fixated on where they move to pluck at the pink bud of his nipple.

Viktor’s head falls back against the support of your shoulder, chest arched into your teasing touch, until your fingers twist the peak of him and he curls in on himself, hissing. The nipple in your hand grows warm just from that alone.

“Love your chest, Vik,” you whisper against the shell of his ear, reveling in the shiver rattling down the bony spine pressed to your front. “So sensitive. Barely need to touch you and you’re already putting on a show for us.”

Jayce’s hands clench into the sheets again, no doubt wishing they were placed where yours are, squeezing and pinching and twisting and tugging.

“A-hnn, God,” Viktor grits out, voice coming in hot and humid and ragged right against your ear. The weight of his head on your shoulder lifts, sharp chin grazes his pale collarbone to glance down at where your hands work his now hot, puffy nipples. “You’re nh-not— going easy on me, hm?”

“Not if Jayce is watching,” you reply. “Remember when we tied him to the kitchen chair and made him watch while I sucked you off, how he came, entirely untouched, when you called me a whore? He left a fucking puddle on that chair, and we acted like he wasn’t even there the whole time.”

Viktor chuckles, and a slick, sticky sound rings out from behind you. The shift of Jayce’s hips under yours tells you all you need to know. He’s got his legs clenched together in a desperate attempt to compensate for his neglect.

“Jayce.” You tut, faking disappointment, because how the fuck could you be disappointed when he looks up at you and Viktor through thick, wet, clumpy lashes and fat tears, mewling around the stretch of the dildo, cheeks and lips red with friction and exertion? He whimpers, caught red-handed. “What did we say? Legs wide open.”

The sound he makes in the back of his throat is pitched, silent and barely-there, on the exact same tonality he pleads on, which is enough to tell you he is begging now too, without needing to form even one coherent word to allude to it.

Still, his knees flop to the side, and his cunt parts with a slick, clicking noise.

“He sounds so wet,” Viktor remarks with a grin, before his hand comes down to cradle Jayce’s hollow cheek, thumb smearing at his swollen bottom lip. “Are you? Desperate to be filled on both ends, leaking for us?”

You set out for proof, one arm letting go of Viktor’s chest as you lean back and guide your hand behind yourself, to where Jayce hungers for touch and oh—

The air is warm and humid between his legs — even before you make skin to skin contact. But once the heel of your palm settles on his pubic mound, cock practically twitching into your palm, you dip lower, to his drenched hole first, then lower, down between his cheeks, until the back of your fingers graze the sheets. Soaked.

“So wet, Vik, he’s dripping,” you whisper, punctuating the last word with a dip of two fingers into his hole, down to the first knuckle. Not enough to pleasure him, just enough to make his pussy squelch for proof.

Jayce chokes around the dildo, feet kicking at the sheets as his thighs part wider, an invitation, a plea, cunt gripping your fingers, please please please fill me up.

“Are you that desperate for us?” you ask.

Jayce nods again, and where you expect to be a whine this time, there is a sniffle, accompanied by a fresh set of tears rolling down his cheeks, into his sideburns.

Poor, desperate little thing.

And then he breaks into a sob, the full-bodied kind, muffled by silicone, when you remove your fingers from his folds.

Viktor squeezes Jayce’s chin in his hand, grinds down on the man below him when he asks, with all the smoothness he uses when he talks about his newest invention or what’s for dinner tonight:

“Do you want (y/n) to fuck your needy cunt full?” There’s a brief pause, not long enough for Jayce to answer, but long enough for both you and Viktor to indulge in how his eyes widen. “Fuck you until your abused hole’s so sore you can’t even feel how horny you are anymore, until you’re sated?”

You wonder how he manages to say things like that like they’re nothing.

“M-mmffhhm—“ Jayce’s moan nearly morphs into a cough, evident in how his throat bobs and chest rises, but does not fill with air until a few seconds later, slow and gradual past the silicone.

“Our perfect boy,” Viktor says, then turns to you, nuzzles under your jaw. “Get the harness? I’ll prepare him for you.”

And who are you to say no to such a generous offer, to finally giving Jayce — precious, patient, perfect, pretty Jayce — what he’s earned? You hop off the bed to fetch the harness, already waiting atop your night stand, and step into it while listening to Viktor coo.

“You want to take all of it, don’t you?” He asks, fingers wrapping loosely around the dildo’s base. Jayce hums again, a wet, chokes sound with how Viktor slowly pulls the silicone from his throat. “Good,” Viktor says. “Prove it, then. Show me you can take it, and (y/n) will fuck you full.”

There’s a brief panic in his eyes, the kind that grows when Viktor’s entire fist wraps around what’s still left of the dildo’s length.

But Jayce is nothing, if not determined. Willing. 

He just needs guidance, sometimes. 

You kneel on the mattress beside Jayce’s head, palm settling at the swell of his throat.

It trembles under your hand as Viktor inches the toy out of his mouth, convulses with a stifled cough. Jayce writhes with it, nearly enough to free his arms from under Viktor’s weight. Nearly.

He miserably fails at suppressing a wet cough, tries to shoot up off the bed once the cock is out of his mouth. With how he’s nearly hacking up a lung, cheeks red and lips redder, barreled chest shaking so hard it’s making Viktor bounce, you’re starting to have your doubts about how much Jayce will be able to take, truly.

Still, you support the back of his head as he coughs, stroke the short hair on his nape.

“Shh, you’ve done so well,” you assure, just in case he’ll fail, because you know how that gets to his head, and this — well, the dildo you’ve picked tonight is pretty fucking big, “got the cock so nice and wet for me—“

“Want— all,” he splutters. “Can take it. I can— I can take it, just—“

“You will,” Viktor speaks up, steadying in his certainty. If he told you the sky wasn’t blue right now, you’d probably believe him. “Breathe.”

So Jayce does, because he’s as susceptible to Viktor’s persuading calm as you are. Coughs and sniffles one last final time, leaves you to wipe the spit-snot-tear mixture off his cheeks while Viktor taps the cock on his lips.

“Open up, babygirl,” you tell him, because you know that sometimes he gets so brainless just from having cock in his throat that sensory cues aren’t enough, that he has to be sweet-talked through it. Jayce parts his lips with a hum, looks at you through lidded, fluttering lashes, pupils wide with trust and affection and that specific brand of docile submission only he is capable of. 

It has you melting, to have it all directed at you, especially as you talk him through it.

“Breathe in,” you whisper before Viktor’s pushed past the threshold of his lips. The wheezing inhale that follows has a few doubts weighing heavy in your chest, but you know Jayce will try. And you’ll fuck him senseless just for that alone. 

His nose twitches when the cockhead prods at the back of his palate, and as do the muscles and tendons of his neck, tense with anticipation and eagerness to prove himself.

“Breathe out, pretty boy.” His stubble is rough against the backs of your fingers, and Viktor’s entire weight sinks beside you from how thoroughly Jayce exhales. His gaze, in spite of the new budding tears, is trained on you, waiting. Obedient. “There you are, now close your eyes, relax.”

And he does so, lets his lashes kiss his cheeks and swallows with a breathy hum, waits for the stifling fill of silicone down his throat, which does not come.

“Don’t.” Viktor says, catching his chin between his thumb and index. “Don’t close them. Look at us. I want to see you when you take this cock all the way.”

With how Jayce swallows again, considerably thicker this time, and looks back and forth between you and Viktor, you know he’s started having a few doubts of his own now, in spite of his woozy brainlessness. Viktor solves them all with a steady onward press of the silicone cock, bony fingers wrapped steady around the base.

By the time Jayce’s lips reach the wet ring he’d previously left on the toy’s girth, a tremor has taken hold of him. From his hands, balled into fists so pressure-white they nearly match the sheets, all the way down to his knees, his entire body is taut and twitching with determination.

His throat bulges right below his chin, a subtle swell that twitches with every stifled cough and grows, because Viktor lives to push limits, regardless if they’re his own or not.

But when Jayce looks to you, pale and wide-eyed and writhing, you just start to wonder how much of it he, breakable in spite of his size, his status, his strength, his determination, can take.

“Viktor—“

“Almost,” he replies, and the moment you glance down at Jayce’s mouth to see the base of the dildo kiss his lips, Viktor huffs out a smile, satisfied. 

You feel tension from your own chest dissipating with relief.

And you wonder why you’ve ever doubted them. Jayce is nothing, if not resilient, and Viktor, with all his tendency for risks, knows to manage them. Knows to manage Jayce, above all. “There,” he reassures Jayce, “all in.”

And fuck, is it worth it. 

The once subtle swell of Jayce’s throat is now visible and palpable, firm to the touch and moving with every desperate constriction of his throat. His face is a slick mess, spit and snot and tears all combined, pooling around raw red lips and running down his cheeks and jaw, all the way down his flexing neck. The fattest drop that’s dripped down the farthest is cradled in the notch of his collarbone.

“I’m going to take it out, now,” Viktor breathes. With that, he grabs a hold of Jayce’s chin to steady him, and slowly pulls the toy out with a squelch that leaves your own cunt aching. By the time his lips are wrapped around its middle, Jayce is shaking and sputtering with coughs around it. And when it’s all finally out, Jayce comes up gasping, seeks comfort by sitting up as much as Viktor’s weight atop him allows and nuzzling the space under Viktor’s chest. 

Petting his hair with one hand, Viktor hands you the prepped dildo with the other, thick, webby spit pearling off the hanging head of it. It hits you that it would be cruel, truly, not to reward him for his work, for pushing his limits driven solely by the desire to please you and Viktor.

So, once you slip the cock through the O-ring and readjust the straps around your hips, you approach Jayce, face still buried against Viktor’s flat abdomen to seek comfort somewhere in the heady scent of him. Easily, you slip your fingertips under his chin.

It makes you forget your plans almost entirely when his watery eyes slide open and he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

“Open for me,” you say, thumb tapping at his stubbled chin. He does so within a heartbeat, and it’s moving to witness his blind trust during sex, regardless of how often you get to. It’s always something worth treasuring; you find yourself reveling in the soaked noise his mouth makes when he opens up. “You did so well for us. So eager and pretty, such a good cockwhore, such a perfect mouth. Let me make sure it stays nice and wet for when Viktor wants to use it, yeah?”

And Jayce whimpers out a breathless little “please…” before he opens generously for you, tongue sliding from his mouth to receive what you’ll be giving. 

You brace yourself on Viktor’s shoulder for balance, who is watching the scene before him unfold with a quiet awe and knowing. He’s been where you are, and where Jayce is, too. 

Nothing that can compare to Viktor’s grin once you spit neatly on the very middle of Jayce’s tongue. 

“Wait,” Viktor says, when Jayce goes to shut his mouth. Steadily, his hand comes to cup Jayce’s chin in a firm grip that forces his mouth back open. Viktor’s jaw clenches briefly, drawing up spit, before he rewards Jayce just the way you have. Jayce draws in a surprised inhale the moment Viktor’s spit hits his tongue and bottom lip. “Now,” he tells him, “you can swallow.”

Immediately, Jayce’s eyes fall shut in bliss, his lips twitching ever so softly as his throat bobs.

“Thank you,” he whispers, so quiet you can barely hear it. And you’re half worried that Viktor will fall into a mean streak, now that he is presented with the opportunity to make Jayce repeat himself until he says it loud and clear. You suspect he deems the quiet but overwhelming reverence in Jayce’s gaze enough to not go down that path.

Frankly, you’re much the same. Climbing down the mattress until you reach Jayce’s parted legs, where you settle, aiming to give him what he wants. It’s intuitive by now, Jayce only needs to feel your hand running up his thigh and settling under his right knee to know to lift it onto your shoulder.

You’d love nothing more than to see his expression when you sink and drag the tip of your cock through his folds, from red little cock to where his cunt clenches and flutters and begs to be filled. But hearing the wet click of his drooling pussy, seeing pink, swollen flesh part to accommodate the slide of the plastic cock — it more than suffices.

Unbidden, his hips tilt to invite the length of the toy, but you know better than to give him what he needs right away. There’s something special, vulnerable, about watching Jayce squirm, even if it’s for the briefest moment. 

So you tilt your hips back up, tip of your toy bumping against, then flicking Jayce’s cock on its way up. You’re not sure if his clit trembles due to your strap, or the spine-rattling shiver that shakes him, but it’s a sight you drink in regardless. 

The leg that isn’t rested on your shoulder kicks out in frustration, and you can hear him clench around nothing, all while he chokes on a broken little whimper.

“Put it in,” Viktor tells you, “I want to see his face.”

And who are you to deny the two you love most men asking you for the very same thing?

“Yesyesyes, please,” Jayce slurs, and his voice jumps once the tip of your cock settles at his gushing hole. It’s an easy slide home, his greedy cunt swallows every inch of the plastic cock you slowly feed into it. As he accommodates the stretch of the plastic, the hood of his clit stretches and tenses with the rest of his hole, effectively pushing down on his puffy growth.

You notice, not just because you’re enraptured with the sight of his body taking everything you’re giving him, but because Jayce scratches at Viktor’s thighs every time the dusty pink tip of his fat cock drags against the plastic. Once your hips settle against his fuzzy thighs, Jayce’s body loosens, overcome with bliss. His legs hang on your shoulders, boneless.

“So good,” Jayce stutters out. Just from how his cock twitches, you know his cunt is gripping the toy desperately. “Feels— so… fu—uhcking good when you fill up m-my pussy—!”

He chokes on a sob. Curious, you tilt to glimpse at his face, and are rewarded with a generous view of it: Viktor is holding his head tipped back by his scruff, enjoying the look on his expressive face. Watery eyes fluttering, fresh hot tears dripping down his cheeks, brows pinched up in both pleasure and Jayce’s specific brand of desperate neediness.

“Beautiful,” Viktor tells him, reverent and enamored, “you are so beautiful when we ruin you.”

Jayce’s hands grip the muscle and skin on Viktor’s thighs like they’re the last he’ll get to touch of him, and he swallows, thick and audible. “Ruin me more,” he pleads, “fuck my mouth, V.”

Jayce bends his head at an uncomfortable angle to nose into the curls above Viktor’s cunt, inhales his scent and whimpers like a starved puppy.

Said whimper turns into a full-blown sob of frustration when Viktor not only angles his hips out of Jayce’s reach, but shimmies off his chest. Easily, he braces some of his weight on Jayce’s cum slick tits, then on your shoulder, as he turns around to face you, with his legs straddling Jayce’s torso, and freeing his arms.

In an instant, Jayce’s big hands engulf Viktor’s waist, and Viktor shoots him a look that has them sliding down his thighs and finally onto the mattress.

“Good, keep your hands there,” Viktor tells him, then, turns to you, and parts his cunt open with one hand. You’re so taken with the webby stretch of the slick between his pussy lips that it’s difficult to keep up even with his simple demand: “Touch me.”

His curls are already matted with his slick, your hand slides to settle atop his pussy, prods at his convulsing entrance. Viktor pushes his hips into your touch; swollen-hot cock settling into the groove of your palm.

He watches where your hand disappears between his legs with a bated breath, stuck in his chest for a tense moment before you circle the rim of his hole. His exhale releases the moment you slide into his heat, warm and wet and gushing, grip of his cunt grinding your fingers together with each fluttering clench. Viktor leans into you, nuzzling under your jaw.

“That’s— hn… yes, yes, that’s exactly it,” he groans, bony grip on your arm going tense when you rub at the front of his walls. “Harder.”

Your free hand finds the small of his back, pushes gently, barely. “Can you bend for me?” You ask, fully aware of the sight Jayce will be offered if Viktor does so. 

His nose brushes your neck with his firm nod, hands find your chest to balance himself before he complies, back bending with a little crack. 

“Does it hurt?”

Viktor barely gets past his no before a strangled, desperate noise comes from Jayce, who grips the bedsheets with white knuckles and watches where your fingers are buried inside Viktor with wide, needy eyes.

“God,” he breathes, fists unclenching, clenching, unclenching. He swallows audibly, and when his gaze finally shifts from Viktor’s pussy to you, Jayce seems to be on the edge of breaking out in tears. “He’s so–” Jayce grits his teeth, eyes falling back to Viktor when you shove your fingers into him with a squelch. “So wet. Jesus Christ.”

Just as planned.

“If you want to taste him, Jayce…” you part your fingers and stretch Viktor’s cunt open as you pull them out, then smear the webby drool of his pussy across his already wet lips. Viktor shivers. “Beg for it.”

And you know Jayce will. He folds easily, begs earnestly. It would be a quick affair, to let him get what he wants so easily, to not give him an obstacle to overcome. Said obstacle comes in the form of a powerful thrust of your hips, followed by a brutal, unrelenting succession of them that has the air punched out of his guts. And yet, he tries. Of course he does.

Jayce chokes on another sob. “Oh, God,” he cries, “fuck, please l-let— let m-me, oh…” 

His sentence falls apart with a long, powerful thrust of your hips, the kind that starts with just the tip barely caught inside the clutch of his cunt and ends with your hips slapping the backs of his thighs, and his eyes rolling back. Viktor’s grin into the skin under your jaw falls apart with a little moan once you grind your thumb into his little cock. 

“Let you what?” You prod, spreading Viktor’s lips wide with your index and ring finger, pulling his hole open for Jayce to marvel at with your middle finger. He watches, through tears and fluttering lashes, he still has his eyes on the prize. Jayce is a man of singular focus, in spite of what the world believes him to be. “Put your filthy mouth on this perfect pussy? Even though you can barely get out a sentence?”

Viktor’s hand at your bicep gives a little squeeze, the kind that is not chastising, but serves the specific purpose of keeping you in check. It takes Viktor visible effort to pull away from you — his movements are slow and deliberate as he turns to look at Jayce; desperate, drooling Jayce.

“Try again,” he says, and though you’re not sure Jayce registers it, his voice has gone softer. It’s natural, to balance Viktor out when he turns rough, and it’s just as natural to have him counter your punishing taunts, now. “I could barely hear what you were saying. How are we supposed to give what you want if you can’t even tell us, hm?”

So Jayce goes to try again, sucks in a soft, trembling breath before his voice and determination fall apart with one nudge against his g-spot.

Still, he persists.

With a frustrated, wet sob, he throws his head back against the pillows and his body tenses for a moment, before it breaks with a tender little shake and a sniffle.

“Please,” Jayce tries again, voice raw and strangled like he’s speaking through a knot in his throat. He manages to pry his eyes open and look at you and Viktor, then down to where your fingers swirl at the rim of Viktor’s hole, before they well up with tears that spill down his red cheeks. “Please let me— let me suck you off, Viktor, I can’t take it, I w-want… your cock in my mouth, so bad, I need to taste y-you until I forget what anything else tastes like, I— please. Please.”

His chest is heaving with another suppressed sob — and you would be worried, really, if this wasn’t Jayce. And you were, the first time he’d broken out in tears during sex. 

By now though, you know they’re no reason to worry — Jayce cries often, cries easily. It’s a sign of his trust and vulnerability, and that’s no reason to worry. If anything, it warms your heart to bear witness to how he melts and sobs and bends. All for you and Viktor.

Viktor’s hand finds your wrist, eases it from between his legs. His cunt clenches around your fingers as they slide from his heat, and before you know it, Jayce is letting out a breathy moan of relief as Viktor moves back to straddle his face. He still faces you with a smug little grin, which melts away into bliss the moment he gives Jayce permission to go ahead.

“Mmmh, fuuuck…” Jayce gasps against the slick heat of Viktor, nosing against his dribbling folds, before he lays a thick swipe of his tongue along Viktor’s slit. He lets out a winded breath once his tongue dips into his hole, a man starved. “Thank you,” he whispers, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard those two words spoken with such worship.

Viktor smiles like it’s the very first time he’s heard him say it, like Jayce doesn’t blurt them out whenever he receives whatever he’s being denied.

“It is—“ he bites back on a moan when Jayce’s pink tongue circles his cock, “my pleasure.” His visible complacency only grows once he can tell you’ve caught onto his little joke. Viktor leans forward a smidge, bracing himself against Jayce’s meaty chest and pinching at his nipples while his hips angle to grind himself into Jayce’s mouth, properly fucking it as promised. Jayce moans in response, chest arching off the mattress in delight as he licks on with more hunger than before. “So good,” Viktor tells him, “keep acting like this and we might take pity on your pretty cock and touch it.”

It feels voyeuristic, even though by now you’ve memorized each and every pulse and twitch of his cock, to watch Viktor’s middle finger settle atop Jayce’s hood and tug his clit into full view. Something about the way it twitches under the tension, about the droplet of slick clinging to its underside — it has you losing your mind, slinging Jayce’s other leg over your other shoulder and leaning in to kiss Viktor while effectively folding Jayce in half.

“I— hah, fuck, yes, fuck me.” Jayce gasps from below Viktor, wet licks and kisses interrupting every word. His heels dig into your back, a silent plea, before Viktor rests his weight back on his face. 

And who are you to deny him after he’s complied so nicely?

You lean your weight into the backs of his thighs, wrap your arms around them, before you start fucking into him with short, steady, slamming thrusts. Jayce writhes below you and moans out his ecstasy into Viktor’s pussy, his legs kicking out every so often when the tip of your cock brushes his g-spot or kisses his cervix.

“Mouth open, tongue out,” Viktor commands, and you nearly comply out of muscle memory alone, before you realize it’s aimed at Jayce. Of course it is. The rim of his pink, flattened tongue peeks out from under Viktor’s cunt, and his little cock catches on its rough surface as he starts grinding himself against it.

You forget for how long you watch the back and forth rub of flesh against flesh, but Viktor’s steady-yet-breathy tone snaps you out of your trance roughly. 

“Fuck him harder,” he says, “I want all of him to move with every thrust. Can you do that?”

Can you do that? You were made for it.

Jayce hiccups in surprise when you settle your hands on his hips and pull him against your pelvis, wriggles below you when you settle in deep. His gushing pussy clenches around the plastic of your cock when you pull out, stretches and flexes around the bulbous head. You stop once just the very tip of it rests between his lips and his clit jumps and shakes with anticipation.

“Stop staring at his cunt and start filling it up,” Viktor chimes in. His expression goes from half-serious to taunting. “Or do you think you can’t fuck him hard enough to satisfy me?”

“I don’t know,” you begin. With one forward slam, you breach the tight ring of muscles at Jayce’s entrance, and settle all the way inside his pussy with enough force to send his entire body reeling with your momentum, which makes the flat of his tongue rub up against Viktor’s cunt. He muffles his moan into Viktor’s flesh, but you hear it regardless; high and pitched and ruined. “Can I?” You ask smugly.

“Shut up,” he replies, slightly more out of breath than before. “And keep going.”

“I love you, too,” you half-tease, but Viktor finds the grain of truth in it regardless, pulls you in for a sloppy excuse for a kiss while you pound Jayce’s sopping cunt. 

“Me too,” he whispers, and there is no hint of humor behind it. You don’t think there could be, not when his arm winds around your shoulders to pull you in and his nose presses under your jaw, basking in the scent of you.

Between where your sweaty bodies are seamed together, Viktor’s other hand dips between his legs, parts his cunt wide open. You don’t need to see it; you can tell based on how his knuckles tense against the front of your stomach and how Jayce mewls for it. 

“I am going to use your whore mouth,” he breathes, and though you know it’s aimed at Jayce, your own mouth starts to water out of habit alone. “G-going to, ah, rub my cock on your filthy tongue until I am s-sated.”

Jayce gives a needy, affirmative hum from below, the kind that crumbles with the next push of your strap. Viktor is not far behind, grunting in unison with the added movement from your thrusts.

“God,” he gasps, voice slick and raspy against your neck, “his mouth feels s-so perfect.” 

Jayce tenses below you at the praise, heels pushing harder into your back. The slick sounds coming from Viktor’s dripping cunt and Jayce’s drooling mouth grow obscenely loud, to the point you can hear every back and forth tilt of Viktor’s hips, every desperate lick Jayce lays on him.

“I can hear it, it sounds so wet, I bet he’s drooling for your perfect cock, isn’t he?” You let go of Jayce’s thigh to dip your hand where his pussy stretches around your cock, rubbing the tight, wet rim of it before you raise it to show Viktor how his slick stretches between your fingers. Jayce’s clit trembles for attention, but you make sure to avoid it, which leaves his thighs flexing and chest arching. “He’s dripping for it down here, too. Leaky little whore.” 

At your words, you can hear Jayce sob and sigh from below Viktor, but he does not relent in his duty to please him, not for a moment. 

You expect Viktor to add to your taunt as he so often does, but he simply reaches for your wrist with a certain grip, before he leans in to close his lips around your slick fingers. His throat vibrates against your fingertips when he hums, sucks them so deep they hit the back of his palate before he pulls off with a wet pop.

“Tastes— hnn, he tastes so good,” Viktor gasps.

“Show me.”

Viktor’s lips are on yours in an instant, tongue prodding at yours to feed the remnants of Jayce’s salty-sour taste into your mouth. You swallow the taste of him like it’s sustenance, and Viktor parts a moment later with a breathy moan. He nudges his face below the groove of your jawbone and gasps: “Close.”

Your still slick hand instinctively comes up to cradle the back of his head, but your hips don’t relent. Neither does Jayce’s mouth, if the visible tension in Viktor’s legs, tendons rising and lithe muscles bulging with it, is anything to go by.

“I’ve got you,” you assure, brushing your lips to his hairline in a fleeting kiss. “I’ve got you, Vik, tell me what you need.”

“You, him, this— fuck!” Viktor huffs hot and humid against your neck. “Yes,” he breathes, “yes, he— mmh, he is— ah, doing that— that thing where he’s f-flicking his tongue, and, oh—“

Judging by the sharp, slick sound coming from below, Jayce has sealed his lips to Viktor’s cock and sucked it deep into his mouth. Viktor’s lashes flutter against your neck, a telltale sign that his eyes are probably rolling into the back of his head.

His next moan is breathy and deep, the kind that rumbles against his ribs until it’s released in a high-pitched whine. Blunt nails dig into your arms, Viktor’s ecstatic sounds pause for a winded inhale’s time, just enough for you to hear the pulsing suckles of Jayce’s mouth — the calm before the storm.

Viktor’s orgasm is the kind that makes him meek, so unlike how he carries himself otherwise: curled in on himself and small and holding onto whatever’s within reach.

“There it is,” you coo, while Viktor’s hand finds yours and squeezes. You squeeze back, hold him through his orgasm, while Jayce dutifully licks him through it. He trembles, hips twitching into whatever Jayce gives him until it’s enough, until the tension from his little body fades and all that’s left are loose tendons and slack muscles and a grin.

“Ah,” he breathes, and you’re not just noticing that he’s started rubbing the pads of his fingers against the spots where he’d dug his nails into your arm minutes ago. “That was…” he swallows thickly, kisses whatever part of your neck he can first get his lips on. He shifts off Jayce’s face, reclaims his old spot atop his chest, and leans most of his weight onto you.

“Good?” Jayce breathes from behind him, an attempt at completing his sentence just as much as it is his desperate, people-pleasing little desire to know he’s done right by him. Right by you.

Viktor nods, runs his hand across the cum-matted hair on Jayce’s stomach for palpable confirmation, because you both know Jayce needs to feel it just as much as he needs to hear it.

“Yes,” he tells him. “You were perfect.”

Jayce’s chest — and implicitly, Viktor — both fall with a relieved exhale, and when you look down between your bodies, Jayce’s fat, engorged clit twitches above your strap with the praise. You brush it with your thumb just once, but it still has Jayce throwing his head back and his hips forward.

“Please,” he says, “please touch me more. I need— feels like— if you don’t touch my cock, I’m gonna explode.”

Viktor laughs against your collarbone before his hand grips your shoulder, and the other grips your elbow.

“Poor thing. Help me get off him,” he says. “And take the harness off. I want to taste you.”

You help him brace his weight as he climbs off Jayce, then crashes next to him on the mattress. Jayce’s hips chase your strap when you pull out, pussy squelching when the tip of it dislodges. You think Jayce might have whined for the loss, but Viktor shuts him up with a kiss, the thorough kind, like he’s trying to remind himself what every ridge and edge and nook and cranny of his mouth feels and tastes like. You make quick work of shifting over to the edge off the bed, but find yourself unable to take your eyes off them, even as you stumble in your hurry to shimmy out of the harness and ease the cock out of the O-ring.

Next to each-other, they’re a contrasting comparison of how the term fucked-out can look. Viktor, blissed out and boneless, running one hand through Jayce’s sweaty hair to brush it off his sticky forehead; Jayce, ruined and desperate, breath coming out in short, near sob-like bursts, legs parted wide and pussy trembling for release.

Jayce’s fists twitch like he wants to reach out and hold Viktor down when he rises to kneel on the mattress beside him, and looks to you, holding his hand out. You take it, let him guide you to sit in the generous space between Jayce’s parted legs.

“Do whatever you want to him,” Viktor whispers against your temple while he leans to grab a pillow from beside Jayce’s head. His tone falls into a purr. “Just don’t let him cum until I’m done with you.”

You hear the pillow dropping on the floor at the foot of the bed, and the mattress creaks when Viktor shifts off it. His hands find your hips, pull them towards himself, kneeling at the foot of the bed with a little smile and hungry eyes that have you feeling much like caught prey about to be devoured.

“Oh, look at you,” he sighs, thumb on either side of your cunt spreading you apart with a sticky sound, “you were aching to be touched.”

He wastes no time, goes straight for your sensitive, untouched clit, wraps his lips around it and sucks to the point you forget how to breathe within mere seconds. Your ears pick up on nothing but the rush of your own blood, nerves alight with pleasure that burns its way up your spine. 

Viktor pulls back with a sigh, frigid on your cum-slick folds. “You taste…” he pauses to swallow audibly, before he hums, pleased, “incredible.” His lips brush your cunt with every consonant before they latch back onto you.

“Jesus, fuck— Viktor…!” Out of instinct alone, you bite the closest thing to you, which just so happens to be the fuzzy meat on the inside of Jayce’s thigh.

You’d like to tease Jayce more — truly, you do. But with Viktor’s mouth, seemingly sucking the literal brain out of you and lapping up whatever’s left of it in broad strokes of his hot, wet tongue, you don’t stand a chance. There’s not much you can do but take whatever he spoils you with — pulsing suckles, pistoning fingers, a flick of the tongue — and whimper out your pleasure into Jayce’s bitten and bruised thigh.

He plays your body like a familiar instrument — which it is, at this point. Your untouched, sensitive cunt is excessively receptive to any touch, but Viktor knows exactly what you need, knows where to rub the rough pads of his fingertips and how to swirl his tongue when he seals his lips around your clit. He’s brutal in his approach, wastes no time teasing or building you up. Every burning touch is aimed specifically at driving you towards your rapidly approaching high.

You have half the mind to bury your sounds in Jayce’s cunt when you find yourself teetering over the edge, jamming your tongue into his dripping hole because you fear you may latch onto his twitching cock otherwise, out of sheer brainlessness alone.

Every muscle in your body goes taut and hot with tension. Viktor’s fingers and mouth slowly beckon you towards that sweet, cutting edge with each suckle of your clit and every brush of his fingers against the front of your walls. Your entire abdomen aches with the force of your cunt clenching around Viktor’s fingers, spread on their way out. Whenhe forces his way back in with a sloppy squelch, the tension snaps.

Your back bows to meet their thrust, ass raised like a bitch in heat, and it has Viktor smiling against your pussy. “Yes,” he coos, laying a sweep of the broad of his tongue against your engorged, twitching clit, “that’s it, let me feel you cum.”

His voice reverberating into sensitive flesh has your fingers curling into Jayce’s thighs and burying a moan in his sloppy hole. Viktor laps at you relentlessly, moans and hums like he’s the one getting off, like it’s his body that frays and sings with every swipe of his tongue.

It’s not a long orgasm by any means, but it makes up for its duration in the gut-punch of overwhelming pleasure, the kind that leaves your ears ringing and takes a good minute to resurface from.

It’s only once your senses start working again that you realize Jayce had broken out in a quiet weep, whimpering out the word “please” through badly suppressed, full-bodied sobs. 

His red, drooling cunt twitches when you raise your face from it, string of your spit-and-juices connecting your lips to his hole. Viktor presses one last kiss to your pussy before he climbs back onto the bed with a grunt. The mattress dips when he kneels next to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders and lips brushing your temple with a kiss.

“I think that was the fastest I’ve ever made you cum, was it not?” 

The pride in his voice is hard to ignore.

But you’re happy to indulge it — he’s right. 

“Yeah,” you say, at a lack for a better reply in your post-orgasmic haze. Your voice comes out breathy, broken. “It— holy fuck, it was.”

Jayce inhales through his teeth, pelvis tilting up against nothing, a silent plea for the attention you’d been denying him. You look at Viktor with a raised brow, the silent question reaching him with just a glance.

“Go ahead,” he tells you. “He’s been so very patient, hasn’t he?”

You barely have to lower your face to find it buried in Jayce’s sweet cunt once more. It’s worth indulging in how the rim of both his holes clench when you barely lay one kiss on his left lip. His juices had still steadily been trickling from his pussy, even throughout being ignored. You have half the mind to worry about your tongue slipping through his folds from their sheer wetness the moment you start to work your way upwards, towards his red, neglected cock. The mattress dips with Viktor’s weight beside you, but you pay him no mind. How could you, when you barely have to cushion your lips at the very base of Jayce’s cock, barely grazing one side of it, and his entire pussy convulses with it?

You hardly get the chance to lay one swirl of your tongue at its very tip before his legs kick out and he moans. Silicone brushes the bottom of your chin, and when you open your eyes, you realize Viktor is steadily pushing the dildo you’d previously used on Jayce back into his sopping hole.

“Ah, shit—!” Jayce’s fists clutch the sheets while his cunt swallows the length and girth of the silicone, and Viktor doesn’t relent until the flared base of it kisses Jayce’s folds. He’s heaving, sweaty and spent and yet still starving, before he relaxes around it. “A warning, hah, would’ve been… nice.”

Viktor’s tone falls low and taunting, his fingers wrap around the base of the cock.

“I can always take it out if—“

“No, nono, fuck, please,” Jayce’s hand comes rushing down in an instant, cupping over his cunt while he looks at Viktor, then at you. There’s tears welling up in his eyes, but he just about manages to swallow them before he talks. “Please fuck me on it. Please let me cum.”

You were already planning on it — but that doesn’t make the soft brown and blown wide pupils any less convincing. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” you tell him, lowering to lick around where the dildo splits his cunt. “Makes me want to spend ages just face-down in your leaky little pussy, licking you until you beg me to stop—“

He clenches around the dildo to the point about two fingers width slides out of him, lets out a desperate little whimper while his thighs clench around your head.

Viktor’s fingers are on its base in an instant, pushing back in, relenting just enough to let it slide out, then repeating the action.

You kiss your way up Jayce’s left lip, licking up the drip of his cunt on your way upwards. His breath hitches when you lathe your tongue over his hood, and his cunt squelches with the next push of the dildo inside him.

You ready yourself for his sobs, for the suffocating clench of his thighs, for the powerful wriggling of his sturdy body made small just from pleasure alone.

What you don’t prepare yourself for is the hard press of a cheekbone against your own, or the textured warmth of another tongue under Jayce’s clit. Or half of Viktor’s lips, pulling you into a messy rendition of a kiss around Jayce’s hard little cock, tongues pressing and prodding at each-other and at his puffy clit.

“God— oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I—“ the weight of five fingertips presses into the back of your head briefly before it retreats once more, and Jayce curls in on himself. “Keep— keep kissing, holy shit, holyshitholyshit, I’m gonna—“

It’s a miracle that you manage to find his hand with yours while your eyes are closed and your face is sandwiched between his pussy and Viktor’s face, but you manage, and his fingers intertwine with yours, squeezing. 

“Come on,” Viktor breathes both against your lips and Jayce’s cock, before he jams his tongue forward, under Jayce’s sensitive bundle of nerves and between your already parted and suckling lips. And it’s all so hazily warm; Jayce’s folds, Viktor’s lips, Viktor’s tongue against yours, his humid breath. You find yourself coaxed into a daze by the taste and humidity and heat in front of you, mindlessly rubbing your tongue against Jayce’s cock, against the inside of Viktor’s lips. With a slurp, Viktor’s mouth seals Jayce’s clit into the embrace of your mouths, effectively crushes it between your tongues.

And that does Jayce in. He screams, high and pitchy and overwhelmed, before a hot splash of liquid comes squirting against your neck and collarbone. Jayce’s hand clutches yours hard enough to cut off circulation. He wails through his powerful release, thrashing and babbling that it’s too much, holy fuck, begging and begging and begging even though you don’t know what for. If it’s mercy, he’s out of luck, because Viktor kisses you until Jayce’s hands start clawing at his own thighs and his hips buck helplessly against and away from you. He squeaks, tells you that it’s good, it’s enough, and chokes on desperate thank-yous, until you finally relent.

Jayce is heaving when you rise up high enough to see all of him, powerful body trembling with the aftermath of his wrecking release.

He flinches when you lay your hand on his welted thighs, and he’s now no more than a fragile display of what once used to be raw power. 

“There you are,” you rasp, squeezing at his now slackened hand, still loosely clasped in yours. 

Viktor emerges from between his legs a moment later, laying one final kiss on his cock that shakes his entire body. Jayce reaches out for him, too, and Viktor is quick to take Jayce’s hand and stroke his thumb over the back of it while he shushes him.

“That was… oh, god, I think my brain melted,” Jayce blurts. His eyes slide open slowly, then go wide once he notices yours and Viktor’s slick chests. “Did I, uh—“

“Yes,” Viktor says, running his fingertips from the bottom of his slick sternum to where some of Jayce’s squirt clings to the groove of his collarbone. He pops his own fingers into his mouth with a coy smile, well aware of how it makes Jayce clench down on the dildo still inside him. “You did.”

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, and you’re about to tell him off for it, assure him that there’s nothing hotter than having him squirt for you, but the way his droopy eyes go wide and light up as they watch you climb towards him tells you all you need to know. He’s just had an idea. His big arm wraps heavily around your middle, pulls you in lazily, while he noses at your wet sternum. “Let me clean up my mess?”

And you would never deny Jayce when he glances up at you through fluttering lashes, when he kisses and nuzzles and licks at your chest like he needs to taste himself. 

“Go ahead.” Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head, scratches through the short hair. That’s all Jayce needs to hear before he starts lapping at you with unexpected but familiar enthusiasm, licks his way up your chest in broad strokes of his tongue. 

Viktor’s lips come crashing against yours moments later, leaving you gasping as he mumbles something about both you and Jayce being unfairly hot before he licks his way into your mouth, teeth catching on your lip before he grins. Below you, Jayce whimpers from the neglect, hiking the next lathe of his tongue up the side of your throat, then up your jaw, before needily licking at where yours and Viktor’s mouths fuse. 

“Please,” he begs, and you find yourself still responding to the word even though you’ve heard it dozens of times tonight, and hundreds of times since you’d first kissed him.

What better way to include him in the kiss than to run your hand down his front, then between his legs,and force his mouth open to moan when you wrench the dildo out of him? His sweet little sound does not get to be heard, not when you and Viktor are both sliding your tongues into his mouth, in possibly the most messy, drooly rendition of a kiss.

Viktor’s cheekbone makes itself known against yours, near-painful in its sharpness, and your nose is pressed between their faces, so much you’re unable to breathe from pressure alone.