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Charles in Charge

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It had taken him all week to maneuver his guests just to where he wanted them: a week of sly touches, copious alcohol, naughty stories and increasingly risqué games. Now he had them, standing above him side-to-side, shirts open and trousers and pants around their knees. They were so different, but each so appealing, almost identical in age, not even twenty years old yet, fresh-faced and so eager. Neville had a softness and baby-faced appeal to him, and he looked embarrassed, from his pink-tinged chest and round cheeks to his soft cock nestled low against his balls. Harry was not soft. He was war-seasoned and his compact muscularity and restless energy made Charlie’s mouth water with the desire to feel it on his tongue, to pull that power out and harness it. Harry’s cock jutted aggressively forward and his eyes, above high cheekbones and a strong, young jaw, looked down and met Charlie’s in challenge.

Charlie pulled his own cock out of his trousers, taking it in hand and leaving Harry’s gaze to contemplate the feast at eye level. He spit into his palm and leisurely slicked his prick, conscious of the watching boys. He leaned forward and took Harry’s velvet hardness deep into his mouth, caressing the glans and shaft with the flat of his tongue, savoring the sharp, rich taste and smell of him. From the corner of his eye he saw Neville’s cock twitch with interest, and he shifted over to wet and taste it, then returned his mouth to Harry’s hardness. He stroked and pulled Neville’s shy flesh to full lovely hard length, then alternated taking each of them in his mouth in turn, licking their slits and caressing their balls with wet fingers.

These boys were deliciously young and their arousal spiraled quickly. He popped off Harry’s eager prick, and pulled Neville’s very hard erection down, letting it go abruptly to watch it bounce back up towards his stomach. As he stood up, he ran his hands up their sides, caressing their bums and bare backs under their shirts, pressing them to face each other. Harry reached his arms up around Neville’s neck and pulled his lips down, quickly deepening a hungry kiss. Charlie’s hands on their arses pulled them even closer together. He watched as their hard cocks made twitchy contact, and he reached in between to handle the saliva-soaked shafts. He felt like the best kind of voyeur, bringing them to perform for him, watching their desperate mouths feed on each other, and their cocks frot against his palm and fingers and their bodies. Charlie didn’t know who came first, but at the first feel of slick warm wetness in his hand he grasped the delicious erections even harder, and he pumped his own release between Harry and Neville and onto their spasming pricks.

As Charlie luxuriously rubbed spunk from all three men into his pubic hair, over his balls and between his legs, he closed his eyes and pictured blindfolds and lube and fingers and holes. Next time.