Threefer: Cam

by BRK   

For Cam, living with Quinn and his beautiful nipcocks is a dream—a dream that also stimulates a growing feeling of envy.

Cam remembered when he first saw them. He couldn’t not remember, really. It was like the moment was so potent it had actually rearranged his head so it could be the permanent central fixture in the architecture of his memory, the gushing stone fountain in the public square of his mind. And, like with a public fountain in the center of everything, Cam found he kept passing it in the course of his day, lingering there before it in dreamy appreciation, reliving that vivid, hot, life-changing moment he’d first spotted Quinn’s hard, beautiful, cum-leaking, desperation-red, mouth-hungry nipcocks during an innocent grocery delivery to Quinn’s swank apartment nearly two months past.

It got him hard every time, too, just like seeing the real thing. Cam was a sucker for those nipcocks, in his memories as much as in real life. The taste, the smell, the feel of them against his lips and tongue, the smacking of so much hot tasty cum against his throat as Quinn came and came from those sweet, chest-mounted mantools. He was obsessed. And, he’d been realizing more and more lately, just a tiny bit jealous.

Cam knew he wasn’t good at resisting temptation. His older brother was the kind to hang back, dithering and uncertain, and look where he was—unemployed and living with their parents, still waffling at twenty-six over what he wanted to be when he grew up. Cam was eager. He took action. He’d wanted to be big like their dad and uncle Marc, so he’d buckled down and made it happen—he’d started weight-training, triathlons, and lots of soccer in middle school and stuck with it until he was the builtest guy in his extended family, with cousins of both sexes drooling over him at the family reunions they held a couple times a year at the big spread upstate. He’d wanted to branch out on his own and start his own life, so he’d upped and moved to the city the moment he’d graduated, living with friends until he could afford a tiny shoebox, working delivery jobs while he studied electrical installation online. He’d wanted Quinn’s hard, cummy nipcocks in his mouth, more than anything he’d ever yearned for in his life, and he’d been the one to pounce, wrapping his lips and tongue around those warm, growing stubs of hard, phallic deliciousness before either of them had had a chance to think twice.

Because with Quinn, he had to admit, there had been a little bit of holding back up to that point. He and his too-handsome model lover Diego were regular customers at the Megamart he did deliveries for, and from the beginning Cam had thought Quinn was pretty hot. Tall and lanky, cute in a regular-guy brown-hair-and-brown-eyes kind of way. Built, but like a swimmer, tight and fit, not all weighted down with the kind of heavy, clothes-stretching muscle Cam grew way too easily. And spoken for—otherwise he would have taken Quinn up on his obvious attraction to Cam that very first time he’d found himself staring into that curious, heated gaze as he’d handed over bags of beef, shredded cheese, and canned Italian tomatoes to his new favorite customer.

It got to be a kind of exquisite agony, delivering to Quinn’s place and not acting on their mutual attraction. So when Quinn had appeared before him on that fateful Saturday, overflowing with raging lust and presenting him with three hard cocks he obviously couldn’t control, Cam’s resistance had broken like a like a dam made of reeds and tissue paper. He’d gone for what they both wanted and never looked back. Even if Diego hadn’t been into having Cam and Wes around 24/7 to give three-cocked Quinn all the pleasure he could possibly want, Cam would have found a way. If there was something he wanted he usually got it.

Now, though…

He lay in the bed next to Wes, six weeks into their arrangement, staring at the ceiling and unable to sleep. His toned, compact, and hairy fellow delivery-guy-slash-nipcock-worshipper was snoring loudly beside him, one arm thrown over Cam’s chiseled, slightly furry belly, in the room they shared one wall away from Diego and Quinn’s suite in the upscale three-bedroom apartment the app developer and his top-model boyfriend had managed to get a hell of a deal on. It was thoughts of Quinn’s nip-boners, though, not Wes’s snoring that kept him awake. He got to see them all the time—Quinn had carefully cut strategically-positioned oval holes in all his tees so that his chestboners were on constant display even when he was wearing a shirt, and Cam just couldn’t stop thinking about them… How beautiful they were, how awesome they must feel… What it would be like…

He drew his fingers over the small, brown areolas of his own nipples, teasing the nubs and then pinching them. Nothing. He’d gotten more than his share of pec appreciation over the years from devoted admirers of the muscular male form, but all that the nipple play that’d come with it had amounted to was a lot of tugging and the occasional wince as an overeager partner tried too hard to get a reaction out of him.

He’d always had a low-level wistfulness over his nips being so sexually inert—heck, even Wes, whose pleasure-giving and pleasure-taking were almost a hundred percent oral thanks to that crazy tongue of his, had more responsive nipples that Cam did. Lately, though, he’d been feeling a new imperative welling up in him. He wanted sensitive, stimulus-enabled nipples. And if he could achieve more than that, like Quinn had—well, he wasn’t one to complain.

His need solidified, and with it a plan. No more thinking was necessary, no more waiting. Easing Wes’s arm off his naked form, he stood and, ignoring his own thick, proud erection, padded to the door and out into the hallway, headed for the bathroom medicine cabinet and the innocuous-looking green bottle of life-transformation pills tucked away there, waiting for him to turn his desires into reality.

Two days later Cam was dealing with the one detail he hadn’t quite factored into his plan, which was that the straps of the insulated delivery cube he wore on his back for several hours a day, carting heavy groceries all over town for the Megamart’s sainted and always respectful customers, just happened to ride across his chest exactly where his newly DX3-sensitized nipples were situated.

He’d barely gotten the door to the apartment shut behind him before he’d violently hauled off the too-tight soccer jersey he’d worn to work today and, tossing it negligently onto the couch, stared down in amazement at the red, protruding nips he’d been rubbing and stimulating for an entire eight hour shift, his breath heaving as he took in the two hard, girthy, abused cockheads sticking out low and rigid from the rounded contours of his fuzzy, ponderous, well-developed pecs.

In his pants his usual cock clamored unsuccessfully for his attention. It was achingly hard and demanded its freedom and to show off the impressive gains in length and girth it had accumulated over the past couple of days, but Cam was barely paying any attention to his near-constant erection these days—all of his attention, twenty-four-seven, was given over to his nips. He’d achieved what he’d set out to accomplish, spectacularly so, but boy had he underestimated how powerful the stimulation was from two newborn, touch-loving, mouth-craving nipcocks shoving their way out of his chest for the first time.

“Those look sore,” said a smooth, deep voice from somewhere close by.

With a guilty start Cam looked up to find Diego, Quinn’s lover (and, Cam guessed he should add, his own, now, as well), lounging in the doorway to the kitchen area. Diego was eerily silent when he moved around, and Quinn had joked more than once about putting a bell on him.

“Hey, Diego,” Cam said. “I thought you were in Nice.”

Diego shrugged. He was wearing long cutoff jeans shorts and nothing else, looking too handsome and perfect as usual. Cam wondered if the shorts were really old cutoffs or of they were some designer brand retailing for $400 or something. Diego didn’t care much about clothes, which seemed kind of funny for a model, but he did get a lot of freebies.

“It was a quick in and out,” Diego said. He nodded toward Cam’s chest, the ghost of a smile twitching those very kissable lips, surrounded by his usual hint of stubble. “Would you like some lotion for those?” He held up a tube of specialty skin lotion, and Cam’s stomach fell. If Diego was waiting here, anticipating Cam’s problem with his straps chafing his burgeoning nip-stubs all day, that meant he knew everything—probably had known from the beginning. Him and Quinn both, probably, because ever since Quinn did the secret DX3 cock-growth thing they made a point of talking about everything.

Cam nodded, and Diego stepped toward him. “I was—” he began, as Diego stood before him, unselfconsciously uncapping the lotion.

“We know,” Diego said gently as he squeezed a line of amber gel onto his first two fingers.

“I was going to replace them,” he said quickly, determined to get this bit out. He really hadn’t expected the guys to check the pill bottle so soon, but of course they had.

Diego looked up, affection obvious in his bright blue eyes. “Those were yours, Cam,” he said. “We kept them there for you, just in case you wanted to—” He smiled. “—perk things up.”

Cam gaped at him, then dragged in a loud gasp as Diego spread the gel over his impossibly sensitive left nipcock. “Oh fuck,” he barked, grabbing hard onto Diego’s arm. He stared into Diego’s eyes, which were both amused and aroused, and managed a shaky grin despite the massive overstimulation. “Easy,” he cautioned him, though he wasn’t sure he meant it. He could feel his enlarged balls tightening, and he realized that cumming messily was in his very near future.

He needed to get his jeans off, right now, but he was so flooded with sensation he wasn’t quite sure where his hands were, much less how to operate them. He let out another, even louder gasp as Diego moved to his other side, rubbing the fruity-smelling gel on his other chest-cockhead. “Pants!” he managed to squeak, his voice sounding high-pitched and a little desperate.

Behind him he heard the door open and close. “Hey, Cam, why’d you run off like that? I thought we were going to head back together, maybe stop off for—” He broke off as he rounded Cam’s frozen form and saw what was going on with Cam’s chest, all the more visible as a smirking Diego knelt to undo his jeans. “Oh,” Wes said, very Keanu. Then: “Dude, what happened to your chest?”

Cam huffed, but he was too tingly to speak or he would have said something about how it should have been pretty obvious. Wes guessed what he was thinking and said, “No, not those. I mean, you look all swole and—” He reached out and stroked Cam’s big-looking pecs, and, fuck, it was like giving his hard, slippery shaft a good tug.

“Jesus!” Cam gasped. His reaction surprised Wes, who pulled back at first, then grinned. He went for another caress, this time with both hands, and Cam moaned uncontrollably.

“Hah!” Wes said, grinning wider. “Dude, your pecs got a muscle hard-on!” He stroked Cam’s thicker-than-usual arm, and Cam whimpered. “All your muscles, dude. You got a muscle hard-on!” His attention drifted back to Cam’s chest. “And a couple of baby nip-boners too. Pretty awesome.” He glanced at Diego, who had straightened up and was likewise staring at the newly-forming cock-heads on Cam’s chest. A drop of precum fell from each as they all stared, first from the left, then from the right.

“Psst, Diego,” Wes said out of the side of his mouth as they all continued staring, “why’d you put lotion on ‘em? ‘Cause they really need to be sucked on.”

Cam felt his orgasm—maybe a triple orgasm, fuck!—start to swell somewhere in the core of his being. He looked at Diego, who was smirking.

“Actually, it’s not lotion, it’s edible lube,” he said.

Diego and Wes shared a look, grinned, and in almost a single motion they bent to begin mouthing and licking and sucking on Cam’s crazy-sensitive chest-cockheads. Cam had to suppress a noise that would probably have come out as a scream and grabbed both of their heads, feeling his climax barreling toward him. He could feel Diego and Wes both stroking his cock, which seemed to be a two-hander now, but he barely gave it any thought. What was happening to his chest was consuming all of his attention.

He opened his eyes, ready to tell the guys he was about to cum, but when he did he saw Quinn, standing two feet in front of him his proudly boned nipcocks standing out from his chest through the little holes in his purple tee shirt, heavy and slightly curved, their slits pearling with white, hot cum.

Quinn looked very happy for him and very, very turned on. As Diego and Wes sucked and stroked him Quinn closed in on him for a kiss, his rigid nipcocks poking hard at Cam’s swollen, stiff, extra-sensitive pecs. He moved his lips to speak into Cam’s ear. “Welcome to the three-cock club,” he said, and Cam instantly was unable to hold back his orgasm a second longer. He came and came and came, and when he stopped he was panting, sweaty, and still hard from three cocks that seemed to have grown just a little bit more from his first triple release.

He panted at them, and his three lovers grinned, covered in cum. “I ordered pizza,” Quinn said, and they all laughed at the ridiculous mundanity of needing to eat.

“How long we got?” Wes said, eyeing Cam’s nipstubs and Quinn’s full-blown nipcocks with hungry eyes.

Quinn wiggled his cummy eyebrows. “Long enough!”

Cam grinned and knelt to fill his mouth with a hard and hefty Quinn chest-boner, his favorite thing in the world to experience—though maybe now it might become his second-favorite thing. It sure would be fun figuring it out.

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